For everyone following Hazel's rampage online, the footage coming out of San Trasero was like something out of a bad sci-fi movie. A buck-toothed, bottom-heavy, visibly slobby 200-foot 19-year-old girl had just made short work of an entire squadron of tanks and helicopters using nothing but her chubby, pear-shaped figure and formidable digestive system. Now, to make matters even more surreal, it seemed like she was about to start issuing demands.
"The thing is," said Hazel, kicking the wreckage of the Dildo. "I was really looking forward to fucking this thing. And I'm still horny. So I'm gonna need a new one. And I'm gonna need it fast. Otherwise, you're all gonna have a big problem on your hands. Got it?"
While none of the helicopters recording the giant gooner's statement had the hardware to respond, she knew that her message would be received. Meanwhile, only now regaining consciousness between the giantess's vast cheeks, Max couldn't help chuckling at the sheer predictability of it all. With enough power to meet most people's criteria for a living god, suddenly in a position to demand whatever she wanted, the first thing she'd thought to ask for was another sex toy. Of course, that was Hazel.
*
On the heels of their most humiliating defeat in decades, the Military decided to comply with Hazel's demands—at least until they could figure out a more permanent solution to their newfound problem. Thus, shortly after the giantess had given her first public statement, several truckloads of army engineers converged on downtown San Trasero. Over the next several hours, despite all the personnel lost to Hazel's various irrepressible appetites, a successor to the Dildo quickly began to take shape.
While this happened, the rest of humanity kept watching in horror and fascination. The idea of a giant, seemingly-invulnerable college sophomore who spent most of her time either masturbating, farting or eating people was, obviously, a lot to process—and the initial reactions to her inexplicable arrival were thoroughly mixed. As the US government tried to devise a strategy to contain her, other countries started putting together offers to get her on their side — from vast sums of money to huge tracts of land —in hopes of turning her into some kind of walking superweapon. At the same time, her online army was growing stronger and more vocal every minute—and many of them were now heading for San Trasero.
As Hazel set to work supervising her new team of engineers with an endless stream of often contradictory orders, Max remained trapped in her ass. Even if he'd been able to get his giant captor's attention and convince her to let him out, he had no interest in accidentally getting squashed or stepped on. Plus, after spending the last week in this very crack, he'd had a lot of time to get used to it. While Hazel's ass was just as uncomfortable, hot and smelly as ever, it was safe—and at this point, that was the only thing he cared about.
The only break in the action came about three hours into the construction process when all of Hazel's "meals" began to catch up with her. This was made clear by a series of especially wet farts, the longest and wettest of which finally inspired the engineering team to offer to build a "safe disposal system" for her "waste." For Hazel, who'd once clogged three separate toilets in a single day back at regular size, the idea of a few puny engineers overcoming the unmatched power of her digestive system was beyond laughable—and some part of her felt seriously tempted to give them a demonstration. Still, with no interest in causing a slowdown in the completion of her new toy, she ultimately decided to go do her business on the other side of town—specifically, at the nearest outdoor public pool.
While Hazel had neglected to consult the weather before settling on her impromptu toilet, she thankfully ended up downwind from the park. Following an announcement that prompted every regular-sized person in range to start running like a bomb was about to go off, the giantess proceeded to bury San Trasero's second-biggest swimming pool under a pile of bus-sized logs—totally displacing every drop of water and rendering the surrounding area more or less uninhabitable. Max remained trapped in his captor's cheeks for this entire ordeal, but managed to avoid falling out by clinging to her copious quantity of ass-crack hair—something he'd gotten quite good at over his first week as her assistant.
By the time she got back to the center of town, the new Dildo was almost complete—and the park had swelled with new arrivals. Easily overrunning the military perimeter around the city, Hazel's supporters now surrounded her in droves—worshiping her feet and her butt, begging her to use them as snacks and sex toys, and generally acting like some strange blend of foul con-goers and religious fanatics. This all came as a bit of a surprise to Hazel, but she found it hard to complain. If a bunch of random internet people wanted to offer themselves up to her, she wasn't going to talk them out of it.
"Alright, ma'am." As the army engineers began to get back into their vehicles, a lone tank with a bullhorn addressed the giantess. "We've completed construction. Do we have your permission to vacate the area?"
"Sure, yeah," said Hazel, directing them away with an absent-minded wave of her hand. "You're free to go."
"...Thank you," came the response from the bullhorn, with a fresh note of uncertainty. As the 200-foot gooner rose to inspect her new toy, the engineers wasted no time in leaving the park—incurring a significant amount of harassment from the giantess's supporters in the process. Soon, they were gone—and Hazel was ready to test their work.
"Hey there," she said, looking the phallic sculpture up and down and licking her lips. Around her, her supporters hooted and hollered, eager to witness whatever was about to happen between their goddess and her new toy. They wouldn't have to wait long to find out.
Taking a few steps forward to center herself over the Dildo, crushing several dozen hapless incels, femcels and NEETs underfoot, Hazel brought a hand to her clit and found it sopping wet from sheer anticipation. "Oh, yeah," she breathed, curling her toes. "That's what I'm talking about."
Without further ado, the giantess crouched down and gently guided the head of the sculpture into her dripping, steamy sex. Hearing — and feeling — all of this from his prison between his captor's cheeks, all Max could do was thank his lucky stars that she'd chosen to start with her vagina and not her asshole. Not that it would make the next few minutes any less unpleasant for him.
For the next thirty minutes, the whole world watched Hazel fuck the Dildo. It was headline news, albeit heavily censored, for every network and newspaper, and the internet was filled with streams and commentary. Many heralded it as the beginning of the end of the world. Others, like everyone cheering the giantess on in San Trasero, saw it as the beginning of something new—a golden age for all those who swore allegiance to the new goddess. Only time would tell the truth—although, based on Max's last week as the giantess's live-in assistant before her rise to power, he wasn't terribly optimistic about the rest of the world's prospects.
By now, having discovered Russia and China's plans to convince Hazel to defect, the US government had scrapped any plans to try and stop the giantess. The area around San Trasero had been cordoned off from the rest of the country, and legislation was already being drafted to completely cede the area over to the giant gooner herself—the first of many offerings meant to ensure she remained loyal to America. Compared to the alternative of risking another crushing defeat or losing her to a rival power, this had all been accepted as a necessary evil—and would be relayed to the 19-year-old walking superweapon by helicopter courier as soon as she finished gooning.
"Oh, f-fuck," Hazel moaned, finally approaching a climax. "I... I..."
BBBRBRBRBRBBRBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP
As the buck-toothed giantess lost herself in a wave of overwhelming pleasure, she lost a similar amount of control over her bowels. The only upside for those on the ground was that her stomach was empty. Then again, that wasn't saying much. The fart that followed was the single biggest, longest, smelliest blast of gas she'd cut in several weeks—and while many of her supporters had come prepared with gas masks, even the most sophisticated biohazard gear on the market was no match for the resulting cloud of stink. When she regained her senses, she found the entire park out cold.
"Heh, whoops," Hazel giggled, scooping up a handful of unconscious supporters and dropping them into her mouth. "Thorry, guyth. I'm thure you'll get uthed to it eventhually."