Cleaning House (Chapter 8) (Patreon)

With Lucy’s quarter-of-a-million-mile tall likeness now decorating the starscape above Earth for all to see even with the naked eye, it wasn’t just the world’s covert governments that had identified the lowly part-time maid as the identity of the lovely doom-bringer of a woman currently crushing their planet to smithereens. News organizations, corporations, and courageous citizens alike across the globe took notice as well, publishing proof of who she was and asking for anyone who might have information about how she grew, what she wanted, or, probably most importantly, what might be done to convince her to stop. There was no more talk of physically fighting back, as every military on the globe had thrown their entire arsenals at her, and Lucy hadn’t even noticed except for the literal atomic armaments. Everyone could see that the only way the giantess would halt her rampage was if she chose to do so.

A humble union of news outlets and other concerned peoples in North America had come together to share information and alert the public. Similar organizations in Europe and Asia had performed similar duties earlier, until most of them were demolished by Lucy, either directly under her rubbery flip-flop soles, pounded to ash by her bare feet, or just shattered by the epic seismic events clattering across the hemisphere every time the girl took a stride. Though the North American coalition was separated from Lucy by an ocean, it felt more like she was merely standing on the opposite side of a thin creek, ready to cross to the other shoreline at any time if she chose. Indeed, Lucy could have stepped over to America without even having to jump. Already they were feeling tremors that toppled cities on the west coast.

With no answers from any known relatives or friends that Lucy may have had, probably because any that did once exist had now vanished into the swirling chaos of foot-stomping apocalypse over in Europe and Asia, the North Americans came to a difficult decision. They had to try something to save everyone with the information they had. If they couldn’t find someone to appeal to Lucy on a personal level and ask her to stop this onslaught, they would simply have to see if they could meet her on the level of humanity. Though she was now an all-powerful and effectively a beautiful deity standing on the rubble of mortals, she had once been just like them, if not more modest and downtrodden. Perhaps she could be made to understand.

As society dissolved and any remaining military presence disappeared, these rag-tag organizations across the continent banded together in planes and helicopters, and took off as a fleet for the smoky airspace over Russia, where Lucy was finishing her playful stomping ritual, though the atmosphere had become so clouded from all that she’d mashed to flame and dust underfoot, it was now impossible to see the giantess directly. Instead she appeared as a vague shadow behind the smog, imposing and mysterious as she was mighty. It was only when the fleet cleared the ring of rising blackness, and reached the eye of the storm, that they discovered what had become of Lucy. She was growing again before their very eyes, even from sub-orbital views in the most advanced flight technology available, they couldn’t see much higher than her waist now as she sprouted closer to the cosmos. Delirious with fear, they watched through garbled video feeds as the giantess pulled back the country-sized black cloth of her skirt and panties, exposing her smooth vulva to the world far below. They witnessed the sexual cataclysm, feminine fingers with the strength to peel apart continents now gracefully ramming between the pink labial petals, her whole body rising higher each time Lucy thrust to make herself grow again.

The pilots and rebels were discouraged, but nonetheless carried out their mission of sky-writing pleading messages to Lucy in the air, in hopes of catching her attention and changing her mind about what she was now obviously intent on doing. Every pathetic letter they wrote, though, went ignored, because the giantess couldn’t notice such microscopic details now that she was so tall. And even if she could somehow see it, she wouldn’t have cared.

It was too late. She’d outgrown the planet far too fast.

Hopeless now, wondering what chance they ever had, this last stand of humanity’s simply hovered at the edge of space now over Earth, watching helplessly as the green-and-blue sphere beneath Lucy’s feet buckled into detritus. They heard her moans, an astronomic barrage of divine sound like the implosion of a star, calling down from above as the giantess approached orgasm. Her masturbation technique sped up, causing dollops of honeyed cum to gush from between her lips and pour over the already-smote remains of Russia and the world beyond. Lucy was so big now, there was little distinction between what country she was or wasn’t standing on, as the simplest nudge of her heel or twitch of her toes could cover half a continent. Her sexual fluids swirled, forming new oceans where the unthinkably giant woman had already splashed away the planet’s old structure.

When she climaxed, squirting nectar across the globe and stomping with lust, the world fell out of its orbit. In shock, the pointless battalion of Americans still floating in their planes and helicopters watched the Earth tilt away and leave them stranded in space. The planet floated through the void under Lucy’s ever-growing mass as her size soon exceeded the globe’s diameter. At last, the giantess was left to smile and float among her creation, while the crushed husk of the world tumbled toward the sun. After so many years of maid service, she’d certainly earned her rest.

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THE END