BROBDINGNAG
On Our Doorstep

©2006 Rogue
(Inspired by the artwork of Chaswari and the writings of Raleigh)


The giants were a fact of life. No one knows how they came to be in our world, or maybe, somehow, we had come to be in theirs without realizing it. They simply were, where only a few weeks before they were not. On the outside they seemed exactly like us -- the same clothing, the same houses, even the same species variety. The only difference was that they stood more than twenty times our size. Even the smallest of them was big enough to crush a half dozen of our kind with a single step -- which, tragically, they did very often.

Appearance, you see, was where any resemblance stopped. If we thought that they should be just like us, the feeling was not at all mutual. From the very beginning they made it quite clear that they saw us as nothing more than vermin to be killed on sight. Whole towns were smashed flat and enormous houses built on the ruins. Millions were poisoned in the cities and then entombed beneath acre upon acre of concrete. We tried to reason with the giants at first, but...well, did you ever stop to think that the ants that crawled onto your picnic blanket might have been a peace delegation sent to plead for understanding? No. You simply brushed them away, and that is exactly what the giants did to us. We were just insects to them, and when we tried to fight back, we became just stinging insects, and the extermination continued.

So we fled from them. We fled, and we hid, and we trembled and we hoped that if we were spotted we might be ignored. Sometimes it worked -- it even worked for me once -- but most of time those who let themselves be spotted would simply be squashed underfoot. It was a ghastly fate, made even more terrible by the look of contempt you would see on the face of the killer at the moment of execution. It was a face like anyone's, like yours, like mine. Not a monster, but a housewife or a carpenter or a teacher, against whom our only affront was to stand ankle-high.

Some chose to live a dangerous life within the massive homes of the giants, where they hid in the walls and ventured out at night to steal food. Others, like me, preferred to head for the hills and eke out what existence we could in the wilderness away from the giants' settlements. That was hardly a guarantee of safety, though. We saw many giants, and more than once we had to run from our little ramshackle towns upon feeling the thump of a huge footfall through the earth. That was how we could tell that they were coming, a very tiny blessing given to us by whatever God might still be paying attention. There would be a series of tremors, usually at least a dozen, which would give us time to hide. We learned to count the seconds between them to let us know if the giant was walking or running, and in time we learned to tell by the strength of one tremor to the next if the danger was approaching or would pass us by, just like counting the delay between a lightning flash and its thunderclap.

I was caught because one day I only felt one.

There were six of us, which was about as many as you would want to have in a group to avoid attracting attention. Six of us out in the open, but close enough to a thick forest that we were confident that we could dive for cover in time. It was not that we were careless, oh no. Anyone who was prone to carelessness was long gone by that point. We would not have had a chance no matter what.

We all felt the thump, and almost immediately there was a great creaking and cracking sound. The tree limbs overhead parted suddenly and a huge feline face pushed through them. It had big yellow eyes that shifted first this way and then that, and then focused right upon us, and then I saw the most awful, awful grin.

The giant burst out of the trees and right away we scattered. It was a young male, feline, as I said -- naturally stealthy. That was all I could see and there was no time for gawking. We ran, everyone rushing in a different direction. Swarming insects do the same when threatened. It confuses a predator and allows most to get away. So we scattered, each praying to our absentee God that we would not be the one to be targeted first.

Behind me there was a scream. That was not unusual. There were always screams. Usually, though, they were very short, always ending with a horrendous sound. These cries went on and on, and damn me, I broke the Never-Look-Back rule. I saw the giant kneeling. In his hand was one of the vixens that had been walking beside me not ten seconds before. She was kicking and screeching wildly as the giant pinched her shirt between two fingers and pulled it roughly away from her until it tore. His terrible grin grew wider, the tip of his tongue poking from between his teeth, and behind him his tail lashed excitedly. Her slacks came off next, peeled away from her like the shell from a cooked shrimp.

I thought, You sick, perverted little... just before my leg caught on a vine. If I had been facing forward I might have avoided it, or at least been able to kick free, but twisted around and off balance as I was I went right down. I landed hard on my belly, hard enough to knock the breath clear out of me. I tried to jump up but down again I went. The creeper had looped around my ankle. As hard as I could I jerked my foot up, hoping to tear it free.

That's when the giant saw me. His head came up and both his ears and his gaze turned toward me. For a second or two I was frozen, but then in panic I pulled with all my might until the tough vine snapped in two. By then, though, I knew that it was too late. The giant stood, lowered the vixen down to a deep pocket on the side of his trouser leg, and casually dropped her inside, then started toward me.

I think at that point I was screaming, too. I don't know. I managed to get to my feet, but then BOOM...BOOM...BOOM...three steps, and he was standing over me. All of the muscles of my back and neck tightened up, waiting for the blow. I remember clearly wondering if I would feel it as he stepped on me, or if the impact of his foot would knock me out first. Something came down in front of me: fur and leather, a wall -- his hand. I stopped short, staggering and gaping at it, not knowing which way to run. That is when there was an indescribable pressure about my middle and I was hoisted into the air, the ground falling away so fast that I nearly blacked out. I saw my companions vanishing into the woods far, far below, before I was swung around and found my vision filled by the young giant's face.

What else could I do? I started to beg. As fast as I could spit out the words I pleaded for my life, but I do not think he could understand me -- that, or he simply did not care. I prefer to believe that it was the former. Regardless, it did me no good, just as it never had for anyone else. He brought his other hand up and dumped me into his palm, then shoved me onto my stomach and thrust his finger up under my shirt from behind. My voice got high and squeaky as my own shirt started to constrict around me, and thankfully it ripped apart before my ribcage collapsed. His thumb came down on my shoulder blades and pinned me fast. I felt my pants being yanked down toward my feet. Only then did it dawn on me that he was stripping me bare, just as he had done to the vixen before me.

It was no use struggling. I chose instead to go limp and allow the young giant to undress me, which probably saved me from getting my legs dislocated, or worse. That is how rough he was. After tossing what was left of my clothing aside he plucked me out of his palm and held me up for a close look. For some reason I put my hands over my face. I don't know why. Maybe I was afraid, or maybe mortified. He turned me over first one way, then the other, and then suddenly I was falling.

At least, that is what it felt like. I screamed as I plummeted downward, convinced that the giant had dropped me, and I flapped my arms and kicked my legs in panic. It did not occur to me that his fingers were still pressing in on my sides. The ground rushed up toward me as his shirt flew past, and then all at once I jerked to a stop. Both arms and legs snapped down painfully and my stomach felt as though it was going to leap out of my throat. I was hovering now, still held fast. Below me the giant's pant-leg stretched all the way down to the ground. In front of me was an immense pocket that looked like it could have held a delivery truck. It bulged and twitched, and I knew that that was where I was going. Still, I don't know why I was surprised when he lifted the flap with his middle finger and I saw a huge pile of bodies inside. There were -- I don't know, a dozen? Maybe twenty? All naked, like me, all tangled up and wriggling and kicking and pushing against each another.

Then the giant casually dropped me in on top of them.

I landed with a grunt and immediately got a fist to the cheek that made me see stars. Someone else's knee hit me in the stomach. In the darkness there were shrieks and yells and angry shouts to keep still. Someone at least was trying to take charge and quell the panic, but a few seconds later it was no use. The giant started walking. Our cloth prison swayed and slapped against his thigh and then jarred violently as below us his foot hit the ground. With each step we were jostled against one another, and though I am sure that everyone was trying very hard to stay upright, as I was, the dizzying motion kept pushing us around while others' legs tripped us. I had to fight constantly to avoid being buried under the rest.

At one point we were all thrown to the side and the pocket stretched tightly around us. The pressure was agonizing and we were all wheezing. To our relief the giant stood up again after only a few moments, and then light flooded in from above just long enough for a fresh victim to tumble down into our midst. The swaying and thudding and jolting started afresh, and went on for what seemed like hours.

When it finally stopped I was left bruised and aching and nearly exhausted. One of my teeth had been chipped. My fellow captives groaned and coughed and nursed their own injuries, but the respite was brutally short. Dazzling bright light flooded in for a split second before it was blotted out by colossal fingers slithering down into our prison. The screaming started again as we were shoved roughly up against one another, and then squeezed hard. I heard the hiss of fabric sliding over fur as we were pulled upward in a great kicking clump and lifted out into the light. It was blinding bright and I closed my eyes tightly, feeling wind rush past my exposed fur as we were carried through the air. Then we were descending, and all at once the pressure that was holding me against my fellows subsided. We slid down and made a painful landing on a surface that was hard and cold.

With my comrades sprawling around me, I watched through watering eyes as the giant's hand rose up and away, before he reached into his pocket to fish even more of us out. Everything around me was shocking white, as though we had all been dropped inside a light bulb. As my eyes adjusted further I made out gleaming metal shapes suspended high in the air to one side of us. In a flash I understood, and whispered an answer to the question I heard sputtered from somewhere nearby.

"My God," I said. "We're in a tub."

And we were. It was an ordinary bathtub, no different from any other that you may have seen, save for being half a football field long. Its surface was so bright it was nearly painful, and made it difficult to judge just how far it stretched. A raised silvery disk at one end served to stop the drain; even without trying it I knew already that it would be impossible for any of us to lift it.

The giant's hand came down, clenched, toward us. Little bare arms and legs and tails squirmed from between his fingers. We all let out a yowl of terror and began to scatter as the great hand opened, spilling out another mass of captives. Those that could struggled to their feet and began to stumble away, dispersing instinctively in all directions and leaving behind the ones who were too injured to walk; those could only lay groaning in pain and reaching plaintively toward us as we abandoned them.

He fished three more from his pocket and dropped them in among us, before straightening up. His arms crossed over his belly and gripping the hem of his shirt, he pulled it smoothly upward and off of his head, and then tossed it behind him. He hooked his thumbs in the waistband of his pants and shoved down, bending forward. There was a pair of hollow thumps as he stepped out of them, and then stood up tall.

A collective gasp rose, followed by wails of dismay. The giant had an erection. His penis loomed overhead, proud and terrible, twitching slowly up and down with excitement. It was not the sight of that mammoth arousal that sent us scurrying and squealing, though. It was the look on his face. I cannot begin to describe the savagery that gleamed in those eyes. His lips were drawn fully back, baring all of his teeth in a ferocious grin. It was an expression of unconstrained malevolence, and I knew right away that he did not just intend to kill us, as his kind always did, but to amuse himself with us just as his wild ancestors would have done with their prey.

We continued to disperse, some rushing to the left and some to the right. The giant ignored us for the moment and focused his attention on the wounded that we had left behind. Slowly a lean and powerful leg rose and swept over the edge of the tub. The foot landed hard with an impact that rang in our ears. The other leg followed with another loud and hollow thud, and the giant stood leering down at the wounded writhing between his feet. For a few awful seconds he simply watched their feeble getaway attempts, and then at last he lifted one foot off of the tub's floor. His scrotum swayed and bumped ponderously against his thigh as he tilted his body and swished his tail for balance. His foot swung soundlessly through the air until it was hovering over the three most badly injured. Their cries echoed oddly off of the sole as, slowly and deliberately, it descended on them.

He did not kill them right away. Instead, he let the weight of his foot pin them down, his toes flexing atop them while they thrashed and wailed beneath. To our horror and disgust he gripped his bobbing erection in his right hand and began rudely masturbating, all the time peering down with his ears canted forward to catch his victims' every squeal. Thankfully, the grotesque spectacle did not last very long. With a sound like a hardboiled egg being rolled beneath someone's palm the giant pressed his foot down heavily upon them. From where I stood I could see their faces contort in agony for a split second before they disappeared. The awful sound continued until red juice squirted from between the giant's toes and flowed freely toward those of us who had fled toward the deep end of the tub. We could hear it clearly, even over the sound of our own screams.

The giant released his member and stood panting, his eyes blazing with a sick kind of satisfaction. Lifting his foot slowly he sneered down at the crushed remains of his victims, and his tail thrashed wildly about and slapped noisily against the rim of the tub. He licked his lips, and then jerked his head toward the far end of the tub as though he had only just remembered that half of our group were cowering there. Curling his lip, he bent down and reached for them. As they howled and stumbled he scooped his hand behind them and chased them away from the tub wall, then herded them down the length of the tub toward us. One did not make it -- the vixen whose capture I had witnessed earlier. As the group ran past the giant's feet he suddenly snatched her up. Her legs were still running in the air and she was screaming as he lifted her high and away.

The last of the stragglers reached our end of the tub and we all huddled together, except for a few who were scrabbling at the smooth walls in a mindless attempt to climb to safety. The giant held the vixen tightly as he turned his body toward us. Without taking his gaze from her he crouched down and then dropped loudly to his knees. They slammed down on either side of us, his spread legs spanning the width of the tub. His erection swung ponderously from side to side between his thighs, as though it were some huge serpent trying to get a clear look at us. There was nowhere to run, now. The fear-crazed continued to rake their claws fruitlessly against the tub walls. Some turned away; others, like me, too dumbstruck by what we were witnessing, could only stare.

The vixen's screams were strained from the strength of the giant's grip around her torso. I kept hoping -- praying -- that she would pass out, but she never did, poor thing. The giant held her close to his face, his eyes wide and intense, tongue poking from between his lips in wicked fascination. With one finger he prodded roughly at her body, mashing it against her breasts and smacking her several times hard in the face. Her cries grew painfully shrill as he extended a cruel claw and thrust it into every orifice in her body.

The wicked examination went on and on, and when at last it was over the giant dropped his hand to his groin and resumed his lewd display. While his hand jerked briskly over his member he thrust out his tongue and gave her a long and brutal lick, from her knees to her face. She sputtered indignantly and lashed out with one arm, smacking him as hard as she could manage across the lip. That startled him. He jerked his head back and blinked, but then he narrowed his eyes and repeated the lick, harder still. This time, though, he hooked his tongue around her back and pulled her sideways into his mouth.

The sight of her thrashing body pinched tightly between his teeth sent a cry of alarm up from our little group. The giant's gaze shifted down to us and I plainly saw an evil notion cross behind them. His hand began pumping more feverishly. Our cries became a terrified howl and we all cowered as the giant leaned forward, his muzzle coming down within a few short yards of our heads. His pupils were wide, the eyes of a predator, and reflected all of our frightened faces as he fixed us with his gaze. The vixen, her voice hoarse, gibbered something incoherent, and then there was a terrible, terrible sound as the giant closed his jaws.

No matter how hard I pressed my hands to my ears there was no blocking out the noise he made as he chewed her up. He was slow about it, deliberately taking his time, and then as if our horrified squirming and retching was not enough for him, he had to lean down closer and open his mouth wide, savagely showing off what he had done to her before he swallowed.

The next victim was a big black wolf who was raking his nails bloody trying to climb the wall of the tub. The giant seized him and subjected him to the same torturous examination that he had given to the doomed vixen. When he dangled the howling wolf upside-down over his mouth, however, I spotted a slim opportunity. If I had had time to think about it I would never have tried, but fear makes you do things that in hindsight always seem insane. Besides, right then, what was there to lose?

The giant's head was thrown back and his full attention was on the wolf. On either side of me his legs lay like two furry walls, but between them -- yes, between them there was a gap, maybe four, maybe five feet of open air beneath his scrotum. Before I even knew what I was doing I was running toward him, then down on my knees and crawling as fast as I could underneath. I didn't look up for even a second while I was under him; I don't think I could have withstood the sight. But a few seconds later I was past and dodging around his tail and making for the far end of the tub.

Only when I got there did I finally start to think, Now what? I was no less trapped as I had been before, only this time there was the tiniest glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, my white fur would blend in enough with the tub's coloration that he would not notice me and would finish up his heartless games and go away. I could figure out how to get out of the tub later. For that moment, though, all I could do was huddle down and try to stay invisible.

One of the others had the same idea I had. I saw him run and make a dive for the opening, then abruptly he vanished, yanked upward and out of sight. I heard him scream once, and then a second time, even louder. The muscles of the giant's back and shoulder started to ripple and I could see his arm pumping briskly. His big testicles were jumping and swinging again. After a few seconds blood began to trickle down off of them and make little splashy patterns on the floor beneath.

Mercifully, I never saw what he did to the next few victims. Framed by his feet and the bottom of his scrotum I had a tiny window through which I could see my companions being plucked up, one by one. Each time an awful assortment of sounds would follow, highlighted by shrieks that would go on and on and on before they were finally snuffed out. I could only imagine the wicked torments he was dreaming up for them. Throughout the whole ordeal the muscles of his arm and shoulder flexed feverishly. Between his legs his massive testicles jerked and danced, stopping briefly each time another victim was seized and then starting again as the screams grew louder.

I heard him grunt and start to wheeze. The remaining prisoners wailed and cowered and held their arms in front of their faces, and then as I watched they were blasted by a long stream of thick white semen. I could hear them sputtering and coughing even over the giant's thundering groans as spurt after grotesque spurt crashed into them, draping over their bodies, oozing downward and making many of them slip and fall.

The grim baptism went on for an eternity -- a long, nauseating eternity. The giant was a cat, after all, and moreover, young. I don't know how many gallons he drenched them with before his arm stopped moving and his head fell forward. For a while the only sound was his deep, rumbly breathing, and the moans of his pathetic victims.

Even though he was finished, however, he was not satisfied. His tail swept through the air above me as he stood up, and then as I watched he raised a foot and started to crush the survivors beneath it. He caught four of them at once with the first step, scrunching his toes down on them and twisting his ankle, grinding them flat with appalling contempt. The others bolted but he caught them before they got far, and as they howled and pleaded and prayed for mercy he carefully and methodically squashed them. Within a few seconds the whole end of the tub and both of his feet were painted bright red.

Three managed to survive. You would have been amazed at how nimble they were, dodging and jumping and rolling as the big paws crashed down all around them. The giant, though, was not impressed. In fact, their insolence seemed only to annoy him, and with both hands he herded them together and swept them up into one big fist. While they kicked in his grip he used his other hand to scoop up the limp and dripping remains of his dead playthings, and then he stepped out of the tub.

My hope of escaping unnoticed soared. I stayed as motionless as I possibly could while he bent forward and lowered his last three captives out of my sight past the wall of the tub. There was trio of splashes and their cries took on an echoey, hollow tone. He dropped the raw remains as well, then stood up tall and gripped his softening penis in his hand. I knew all too well what he was doing, and tried once more with my hands on my ears to muffle the sound of frantic screams being drowned out by a long and torrential splashing, and then with the flick of a lever, by the roar of violent surf dragging them down.

The giant turned suddenly back toward the tub and reached for the tap, and that is when, to my horror, he caught sight of me. His ears folded back and he bared his teeth. I lost my head -- started to jump and rake at the tub wall as mindlessly as the late black wolf had. There was a loud thudding behind me. I looked back to see two big, blood-soaked paws resting just a few inches away. One of them rose up and loomed over me. I could see the whole underside, every ridge and crease stained bright red, and I thought, Finally this will be over.

I never was that lucky. In a blur of motion I was slapped down and scooped away from the wall, rolling onto my back and unable to sit up before a big toe-pad as wide as a garbage can lid came down on my chest. I could barely breathe, could hardly move. I remember thinking how warm the bottom of his foot was as it held me down and that it would not be so bad if that was the last thing I felt.

The wait was agony, and eventually I couldn't bear it any longer and opened my eyes. The giant was staring down at me, his eyes more cold and hateful than they had ever been before, as if he was angry with me for having nearly gotten away from him. The tip of his toe rose right over my head. If he had extended his claw even a little right then it would have speared clean through my skull. I actually wanted him to, but like I said, I never was that lucky. He leaned down closer, glaring and studying me. It made his foot press down harder and I thought, This is it.

Instead, he pursed his lips and spat. It hit me squarely in the face and I could not even free my hands to wipe it away. He let me sputter and almost drown for a few seconds before he lifted his foot. I was able to clear the slime from my face at last, and when I did, I saw that he was no longer standing over me. Instead, he had his back to me and was rinsing his feet under the tap. I sat there while he washed what was left of my dead companions down the drain, then kicked the water off of his feet and stepped out of the tub. I heard him walk away. Boom...boom...boom...boom...softer and softer, until there was nothing and I was left all alone.

I knew somehow that it would not last, and it didn't. Maybe a minute later it came again, boom...boom...boom...harder and harder until he appeared once more over the edge of the tub. He had that same hateful look in his eye, along with a terrible air of triumph that would have made you shiver, just like I did when I saw it.

He reached for me; there was no use struggling as he picked me up out of the tub. I saw his legs rising up like two big trees. Between them, halfway down, a pair of dark blue briefs was stretched like a hammock, and that is where he put me. I landed with my head in the front, and before I could even cry out I was being hoisted up with them. When I looked up all I could see was his scrotum rushing toward me, big and heavy and swaying. I felt its warmth even before I was pressed up into it and everything was dark.

I was there for hours, and that wasn't the only time, far from it. He's kept me alive since then, not that he hasn't been rough. I've had things done to me and been in places that your mind could not deal with. Why me? I don't know. He kills all of the others that he catches fairly quickly, but he always takes care not to do more than bruise me or break a few fingers. The only thing that I can think of is that I must look like someone he knows, maybe the bully at school, and the humiliating things he puts me through are his way of...

Sshh! Did you feel that? He's coming back. I'm afraid it won't be long for you now. Take my advice: When he picks you up, scream. Scream your lungs out and kick as hard as you can. It's what he wants. It excites him, and he's much more likely to do something to you that will end it fast.

If you don't scream, he'll make you. Believe me.

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Author's note: Yes, the spelling in the title is correct. If you don't believe me, look at this picture.. The images by Chaswari that inspired this story can be found in the "scraps" section of his page at FurAffinity. You should be able to figure out which ones. Special thanks to Raleigh for the added inspiration.


This story and is copyrighted. Links may be made freely to this page, but the text is under no circumstances to be re-uploaded, reproduced, or distributed without the express permission of the author. Address all inquiries to rogue-dot-megawolf(at)gmail-dot-com