"You're a cruel bully!" The little man's taunts just arouse you further. You are perfectly content to be called cruel and simply smile at the comment. You don't have to worry about appearances when you're this big! In a lot of ways, it's freeing being able to act out all of your desires without being concerned about what these tiny people think -- not when your sheer mass is enough to petrify them with fear.
You brush the little commuters and their vehicles off your shorts using one hand to gently sweep them into the palm of your other. When you gather them all up, a cruel idea flies through your mind. You pull the elastic waistband of your shorts back and drop the rabble into your pubic hair surrounding your hardened shaft. "Good luck staying on!" You let the waistband snap back against your abdomen and immediately you can feel slight tingling sensations as the people pull slightly on the individual pubes, desperate not to fall through your shorts and to the ground, either to die from the impact or to be crushed beneath your feet. It certainly is ego-building to imagine these little people as being similar to tiny little parasites residing in your nether region. You can't imagine how dehumanized they must feel to be trapped next to a pair of oversized sweaty balls as if they were nothing but pubic lice.
"What are you talking about?!" the little man inside your ear says. You remember he can't see beyond the opening of your ear canal.
"Heheh, just taking some more of your little friends along with us for the ride. Don't worry: you have the better view!"
You get to your feet and look down proudly at the imprint your bottom left on the cityscape below. You walk over to where you tossed your shoes and grin at the destruction that they caused by rolling over their buildings and roads. Meanwhile, your bare feet press down over cars as you walk over multi-lane highway, which the width of your foot easily covers. The little crunches you can hear and feel are simply exhilarating. Even small buildings are no match for your tough soles. You grab your socks and sneakers and as you slip them on, another idea comes to mind. "Say, why don't you tell me who your leader is? Where can I find him?"
This time, the teenager's voice replies. "What good would it do us to tell you? You think we don't know that you just going to want to stamp your feet on his mansion!?"
"Heheh. I promise I won't do that. That wouldn't be useful to me either. I want to talk with him. It would be smart for you to tell me, because at the rate I'm going, I just might step on him accidently once my friends come back and we decide to wipe your entire little city out. But that would be after I dig yout out of there and introduce you and your parents to my toejam!"
"That's disgusting. How about washing your feet, you big slob!"
"What fun would that be? Then you little ant-people wouldn't get to experience the smell, hahah!"
The husband interrupts abruptly, no doubt sickened by the bodily nature of the conversation. "We'll tell you where he lives. But you have to let us go."
"Deal." You haven't decided whether you will follow through on that deal or not, though.
"He lives in a large mansion outside of town. You can't miss it, if you walk in the direction opposite of the ocean. It's on the largest hill in the outskirts. Now will you let us go?"
"Nah." Immediately the family in your ear begin shouting in unison, no doubt outraged by brazen lack of honor. "Pipe down, pipsqueaks. I want to find the mansion first. Then you can go free." The shouting stops. "Now then, off to find your leader." You can hardly contain yourself. You haven't decided whether or not you want to torture him or make an example out of him. Or even better, you could command him to rule the city as your puppet, and build monuments and statues in your image. You don't know if you should tell Jake and Eric about this plan, though.
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