Hazel's Rampage Continues Shrunken First Semester: Attack of the 200-Foot Gooner chapter 5 by maximally

 

On a good day, the drive from Ventus to downtown San Trasero took about thirty minutes — but for Hazel, it was now walking distance. Stomping off campus and into the surrounding suburbs, leaving nothing but flattened houses, cars and pedestrians in her wake, the 200-foot-tall gooner began carving a swath of devastation toward the center of the bustling Southern California metropolis in no time at all.

 

By the time she reached the first real midrise it had been less than an hour since she grew.

 

By now, Hazel’s rampage was worldwide news. The internet was filled with theories regarding her origin, and the several hundred Ventus students and faculty members who’d managed to escape her first big goon sesh were finding a wide audience for their anecdotes about her. Naturally, the majority of humanity seemed to view the giant gassy young woman’s ascendance as an unambiguously bad development — although a vocal army of fellow gooners, NEETs, incels and femcels were already defending her actions in the comments of every relevant post and video.

 

Of course, Hazel didn’t care about any of that — and even if she had, there wasn’t a phone or computer in the world big enough for her to check her mentions. For her, being big wasn’t about going viral or taking over the world. It was just her way of acting out all the depraved, horny fantasies she’d spent most of her teens gooning to — and if the rest of humanity had a problem with that, she didn’t give a shit. Not yet, at least, she thought, feeling a telltale rumble in her gut and chuckling.

 

While this was happening, Max remained trapped in his usual prison, jostled back and forth with every step. After a week of Hazel’s usual sedentary lifestyle, being back here while she was moving around so much was strange. Part of him, the part that was growing increasingly resigned to the possibility that he was never, ever going to escape this giant depraved woman, was already nostalgic for the quiet predictability of her room. His calf kept time under the bruise. The raw stripe from the girder pulled every time she clenched. The pain was useful information. So was the fact that the muscle underneath had not snapped.

 

He yelled when a gap in her cheeks gave him mouth-room. Sometimes a face on a lawn looked up and saw him — a man, whole, filthy, braced like cargo — and that was as far as useful information went.

 

BBBBBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPP

 

As yet another massive fart blasted out of the giantess’s ass, washing over his comparatively tiny form before rushing out into the world beyond, he shuddered. Somehow, despite all the massive gusts she’d forced out of her rump in the last half hour, he still hadn’t fallen out — and well aware that the drop from her ass to the ground would probably kill him, he was very thankful for that. Hazel’s huge, filthy crack was far from the most pleasant place in the world, but it beat falling to his death by a long shot.

 

Outside, as Hazel’s latest fart wafted down to ground level, the few pedestrians unlucky enough to be in range were sent crumpling to their knees, coughing and gagging. True to the giant genius’s earlier hunch, the serum she’d used to grow had, in fact, made significant changes to her digestive system — making it even more productive than ever before and making the resulting farts even stronger and smellier. Between that and her apparent nigh-invulnerability to all forms of physical harm — given that she’d turned the biggest, strongest building at Ventus into a pile of rubble and bent steel without sustaining a single scratch — she was nothing short of a walking bioweapon.

 

Within ten minutes, the one and two-story residential neighborhoods of the San Trasero suburbs had given way to the midrise buildings and skyscrapers of the downtown core. Finally surrounded by structures that gave her a little competition in the height department, Hazel couldn’t resist the temptation to check herself out in the mirror of one such building, a twelve-story glass-walled office complex a little under three-quarters her size. Turning around and watching her own butt jiggle on the mirrored facade, she grinned. It almost seemed like her growth serum had added a little extra curve to her already curvy figure.

 

 

Meanwhile, inside the office complex, several hundred people were frozen in terror. They had heard the warnings. Some of them had probably even thought they understood the emergency — evacuate, stay off the elevators, wait for instructions. Nothing in those instructions covered a two-hundred-foot girl using their building as a mirror, or the diminutive young man buried between her immense cheeks, signaling to them quite frantically.

 

Max got an arm into the open and waved it hard enough to hurt the shoulder she had already jammed.

 

“GET OUT,” he shouted. “BACK STAIRS. NOT THE LOBBY—”

 

A man on the ninth floor was close enough to the glass that Max could see the headset still hooked over one ear. He understood it was a warning. He dropped the headset, grabbed the two people nearest the window, and shoved them toward the core. A couple of others saw that and started moving too. For a second Max thought the warning had actually worked.

 

BBBBBBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP

 

Bracing himself as another colossal blast of rancid air thundered out of Hazel’s asshole, Max watched in dismay as the vast mirrored facade shattered like it was made of sugar glass. The resulting shock wave was enough to knock most of the people inside to the floor — and as the accompanying smell began to creep in, most of them stayed down. The headset man made another three steps toward the core and went down among the glass. He stayed down. Max lost him in the glitter.

 

“Geez!” Hazel giggled, turning around to survey the damage of her latest fart and grinning. “They really don’t build stuff like they used to, do they?”

 

Before she could say more, she was cut off by a growl from her stomach — and she remembered that she hadn’t had a thing to eat in a full two hours.

 

 

“Hmm,” she said, eyeing the several hundred people inside the building and stepping forward. “Looks like you guys are the only thing on the menu right now...”

 

“Hazel.” His voice scraped raw. “Don’t. They’re people. You know they’re people.”

 

“Yeah.” She sounded almost patient. “That’s the fetish, miniguy.”

 

Extending a hand into the ruined structure, she plucked out a handful of helpless office workers — the closest cluster unlucky enough not to get away in time. As they struggled to climb off her hand, only to realize there was nowhere to go but down, she offered them a conciliatory — if slightly aroused — smile.

 

“Sorry, guys,” she said, already drooling a little. “I know this seems like a raw deal. But the thing is. I’m hungry. And I’m horny. And I’ve always had a huge vore fetish. So... y’know.”

 

“A what?” One of the men on her hand, unable to process what he was hearing, looked up with utter disbelief.

 

“A vore fetish,” scoffed Hazel. “Y’know. People eating people?” Seeing the total lack of recognition — or perhaps just sheer terror — on her victims’ faces, she rolled her eyes. “Fuckin’ normies... alright, whatever, here goes.”

 

Before anyone on the buck-toothed giantess’s hand could do anything to talk her out of her plan, she put it into action. Dumping them into her mouth and swishing them around with her big, eager tongue, she savored their frantic struggles for several seconds before the urge to swallow got the better of her. Then, in a single triumphant gulp, she banished her latest victims to her stomach.

 

“Ahhh,” she said, patting her gut and leaning back toward the bombed-out building. “That hit the spot... but I could use a little more...”

 

He tried the thing that had worked for one second on the roof. He yelled destinations. He named the stair he could see on the cutaway floors. A woman on a lower level looked at him, understood him, and turned toward the core — which would have mattered if Hazel’s other hand had not already been in the hole, scooping the cluster she was standing in. Understanding him had gotten the headset man three steps and this woman a change of direction. Neither one produced an exit. The building was open to the street, and she was still faster than a hallway.

 

Over the next few minutes, the helpless workers inside the office would soon discover that Hazel’s definition of “a little more” was at least six dozen regular-sized people. Gleefully digging into the office like an economy size bag of Hot Cheetos with one hand and vigorously rubbing her clit with the other, the giant chubby gooner was in heaven. If this was what she could look forward to on any average day at 200 feet tall, she never wanted to go back.

 

Following ten or twenty handfuls of office workers and at least one orgasm, she was finally satisfied — and based on the bloated feeling in her stomach, she could already tell she’d overdone it. “Ugh,” she groaned, letting out a big, greasy burp and eyeing those who remained in the ruined complex. “Why didn’t you guys stop me from going back for seconds?”

 

After watching the depraved giantess turn most of their coworkers into lunch while gooning herself silly, the building’s few surviving occupants were too shell-shocked for words. At the same time, hearing all of this happen from the crack of Hazel’s ass, Max felt more terrified than ever — but knew that this was probably not the time to push his giant captor for mercy.

 

“You can’t keep doing that,” he said. It came out smaller than the sentence deserved. “Hazel. The whole city can see you.”

 

“Good.” She was already looking past the empty floors, toward the park’s lights and the ugly steel column at the center of the grass. “I was getting bored of walking.”

 

Max had spent much of the last week wishing somebody would notice him and understand that he needed help, so seeing the man respond to his warning had briefly made him think that things might finally be different. He was back to his normal size, people could hear what he was saying, and several of them had actually started moving toward the stairs. Unfortunately, none of that had made them any less vulnerable to Hazel. They understood the danger perfectly well; they simply hadn’t been able to get away from it, and Max had been forced to watch his warning accomplish far less than he’d hoped.

 

When he finally felt her starting to walk again, after going back for at least one more handful of the office, he hesitated to imagine what she’d get up to next.

 

*

 

Stepping away from the now-totally-empty office building that had become her lunch, Hazel turned her attention downtown. A few minutes later, after turning another unfathomable quantity of cars and pedestrians into dust under her huge feet, the 200-foot sophomore arrived at San Trasero’s central park — a vast, rectangular quad of grass and scattered trees built around a large, somewhat controversial piece of public art.

 

The sculpture was a 20-foot-tall column made of thick-walled welded steel, featuring a curiously rounded top and flared base. While the sculptor, a famous modern artist, had dubbed his creation “Monolith,” the residents of San Trasero had quickly settled on another moniker: the Dildo. It was here that Hazel next set her sights, eager to follow through on a fantasy she’d harbored as long as she’d known what a “giantess” was.

 

“There he is,” chuckled the buck-toothed giantess, licking her lips. Even after her first and second giant goon seshes of the day, she was already craving another round — and this time, she knew that her hand wouldn’t be enough. At her newfound size, the dimensions of the Dildo matched a few of the most ambitious toys in her old collection. In other words, it was the perfect tool to help her get off right now.

 

Straddling the sculpture and preparing to ease it into her dripping sex, she could feel her legs shaking with anticipation. All she had to do was crouch down and get to work.

 

“FREEZE!”

 

“Huh?” With her lips just a few tantalizing feet away from the tip of the Dildo, Hazel was not expecting anything to take her out of the zone — but the megaphoned voice behind her was hard to ignore.

 

“THIS IS THE CALIFORNIA NATIONAL GUARD. STEP AWAY FROM THE MONUMENT AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD.”

 

Turning around and identifying the source of the voice, the giantess scowled. In the time since she’d gotten into the park, every exit had been blockaded with military vehicles — including two dozen tanks and several idling attack helicopters. The force had started the night pushing toward the Ventus perimeter and been redirected downtown once the MSC went down.

 

“Can we do this in, like, ten minutes?” Idly rubbing her clit to keep herself ready to fuck, she rolled her eyes. “I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

 

Unfortunately, the voice — which seemed to be coming from one of the tanks by the park’s main entrance — had no interest in cooperating. “STEP AWAY FROM THE MONUMENT AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEAD.”

 

Listening from his perch in Hazel’s ass, Max felt a distinct pang of uncertainty — the same kind he’d felt upon first waking up in the House Proserpina common room seven days ago. Based on the number of heavy-duty vehicles outside, it sounded like the National Guard had come prepared with enough artillery to stop Hazel for good — but if there was one thing he’d learned from spending a week at her mercy, she was never to be underestimated.

 

“Don’t shoot the statue—” Max shouted. “She’s going to take it personally. Get your people back—”

 

A soldier on the nearest vehicle had binoculars up. For a second Max thought that recognition might mean a rope, a team, something. The soldier stayed where he was. There was no safe way to force Max out of her that did not depend on her cooperation, and the soldier seemed to understand that as quickly as Max did.

 

“Five minutes?” Hazel sighed. “C’mon!”

 

Rather than repeating their instructions, the tank leading the task force responded by firing a warning shot — aimed squarely at the Dildo. They were still trying not to shoot the living target. With a single well-placed heavy-caliber shell, the upper third of the column was reduced to flying chunks of sheared metal, and a ringing stump was all that was left of the head.

 

 

Watching this happen, the giantess standing over the sculpture gasped. “What the... seriously?! I was about to fuck that thing!”

 

“THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING.” Rolling forward a few feet, the lead tank leveled its gun at Hazel. “SURRENDER NOW OR PREPARE TO BE DESTROYED.”

 

For a moment, Hazel was silent. “Y’know...” Her scowl deepened. “If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s getting cock-blocked.” She took a step toward the tanks. “So... which one of you is gonna help me get off now?”

 

Recognizing that the 200-foot-tall girl in front of them had no interest in negotiation, the tanks and helicopters began to fire at will — a mix of high-caliber cannons and missiles, unloading round after round at the giant, visibly-addled monster for at least a minute straight. By the military’s usual standards, this kind of all-out barrage was far from conventional. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures — and in the face of an opponent like this, they knew they couldn’t be too careful in shooting to kill.

 

By the time the task force leader finally gave the order to cease, their whole position was covered by a thick wall of smoke. At least thirty seconds went by in relative silence, leading many soldiers to believe their job was done. A few even began preemptively cheering and celebrating victory over the giantess. Then the smoke began to clear, and their cheers gave way to groans of disbelief. After everything they’d thrown at Hazel, she was still standing — without a single scratch. Apparently the same growth effect that had added the mass had also toughened what the mass was made of.

 

“That’s the best you’ve got?” Sticking her butt out in the direction of the largest cluster of troops and vehicles, Hazel scoffed. “Alright. My turn.”

 

Still trapped in the giant gooner’s ass, hearing her vast digestive system gurgling to life again and then feeling her equally vast pucker tensing up, Max grimaced. The soldiers on the ground clearly had no idea who they were messing with. He stayed awake for it anyway. After a week of her, blacking out would have been a courtesy, and the day had stopped offering courtesies.

 

 

BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP

 

For Max, Hazel’s latest fart was enough to punch the lights down to a gray ring — which, after all the farts he’d absorbed as her assistant to date, was really saying something. He did not go out. For those on the ground, it was nothing short of biblical — an overpowering wall of sulfuric force that shattered windows, flipped tanks and downed helicopters, leaving nothing standing in its wake. Some soldiers were sent flying a dozen feet off the ground. Others were left gasping for breath on their knees. When the dust settled, the only sounds were the muffled coughs, gags and groans of defeat.

 

“You guys are so dramatic.” Sniffing the air smugly, Hazel chuckled. “This is nothing. You should see me after I have a couple burritos!”

 

Seeing the few soldiers still clinging to consciousness struggling to unpack the limited quantity of biohazard gear they’d brought along in case of emergency, the giantess grinned. One by one, they were dropping like flies — and even those who managed to strap themselves into gas masks and HAZMAT suits quickly realized they still weren’t safe. Standard-issue respirators and filter canisters had failed first; the concentration and pressure were simply outside what those masks had been built to rate. A few troopers in supplied-air HAZMAT lasted longer because they were breathing from a tank instead of the park, but those suits offered no protection against the physical force of the attack. In a matter of minutes, the entire task force had stopped moving — leaving Hazel free and clear to have her way with them.

 

Gathering up two heaping handfuls of soldiers in her arms and settling down in the center of the wreckage, the huge, horny giantess quickly began making up for lost gooning time. Half of her victims were pressed into service as sex toys. The other half became her second big meal of the day. While she was still feeling full from gorging herself on office workers a few minutes before, she was never one to pass up a snack in the heat of passion. Soon enough, she’d polished off every last one — but she could already hear more helicopters approaching in the distance.

 

Supplied-air equipment, Max understood later, would let crews work closer to her than anyone in a paper mask — long enough, at least, to finish a weld or retrieve a casualty. That was the use of the equipment. It did not give anyone a way to make her leave.

 

“What’s this?” Staring up at the half-dozen flying machines starting to circle overhead, she grinned. Unlike the heavy-duty choppers the military had shown up with, these looked much smaller and more civilian — and the lettering on the sides made her think that most were some variety of news organization. “You guys here for an interview? Here’s my first statement.”

 

prrrrrtttttttt

 

As the bottom-heavy giantess shifted her hips to one side for another absent-minded fart, the helicopters idled back to avoid the resulting fumes.

 

“Alright, alright, I’m just kidding.” Hazel giggled. “Here’s my real statement...”

 

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, still conscious 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. She could have asked for a country. She wanted a replacement for the sculpture, and she wanted it fast. Of course that was Hazel.