Isabell's Revenge

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my second giantess story. Again, it takes place in Europe, mostly, so the currency used is the Euro. If you don't like a background for the main character, just skip the first two chapters. You may miss something however, heh heh.

Feel free to post any comments, likes and dislikes. I love to hear from you what you think of it!

Have fun!

Chapter 1

Isabell cried. Telling her friend Christine her story brought all the sadness back.

"He abused me! Used me! I loved him, but he was only interested in sex!" she sobbed.

"He" was Mike, her ex- boyfriend. He and Isabell had been a couple for three months, but now he had ended their relationship. Isabell had loved him indeed. She thought he was a nice guy, being good-looking, wealthy and a head taller than she was. How could Isabell know what kind of a bastard Mike was?

Having arrived at Vienna from her hometown, the hamlet of Medraz, Isabell knew nothing of the big city life. She had never been to Vienna, which was the capital of her fatherland Austria, and as Mike always put it, the "cultural centre of the world". She was a 21-year-old farmer's daughter, perhaps bright but naïve, having lived her entire life on the mountain meadows looking after sheep and growing grain.

However, her well-to-do uncle thought it was a waste of her talents and offered to pay her a scholarship at the University of Vienna. And there she arrived half a year ago, studying medicine, for she wanted to become a doctor in Fulpmes, the village lying next to Medraz.

She met many people in Vienna. One was Christine, also a medical student and soon a friend, and Mike, who was three years her senior.

He was from Vienna itself, and as a guy from the big city he quickly found out Isabell was an easy pick. She was very pretty, having hazel eyes and long black hair, reaching her butt. Her face was beautiful, but for one thing. She had a very big nose. It was easily twice the size of a normal nose, being 4 inches long, root to tip.

"He said my nose is too big. I'm too ugly, he said. Pinocchio, he called me. Trunk face. According to him, I needed a bed sheet rather than a handkerchief to blow my nose. And yesterday, when I met him and his friends in the library, he called aloud "Look! Over there, Isabell is coming to visit us! The nose already arrived!" Everybody laughed at me!"

Christine had to chuckle when she told that. She couldn't help it. Isabell shot her an angry look.

"Sorry, it was a reflex," Christine said quickly. Isabell sobbed again.

"He hit me!" Isabell said. "He hit me when I didn't want to give him a blowjob! And he said I had to be grateful to be his girlfriend."

"He HIT you?" Christine asked, shocked now. "What a dick! Did you go to the police?"

Isabell nodded. "They questioned him. But he denied everything. And since it was my word against his, they couldn't do anything. They warned him not to do this again, but since there were no witnesses, the police couldn't do anything. "She is lying," he told the police. "Look at her nose! Pinocchio is lying!"...and when I met him on the street afterward, he challenged me. "Do you seek trouble? You want to fight, huh? Come, hit me. Hit me, Pinocchio!" he said. Luckily, I could run away."

Isabell wiped the tears from her face. "Even Tom, one of his friends, tried to apply to his consciousness. When I saw Mike again at the University the day after, he waved his fist at me, grinning! "Why did you hit her?" Tom said. "She is too weak to block your blow. You can't do that. It's not right". But Mike simply said he didn't care."

"That little shit!" Christine said, angry.

"And when we were still a couple, he always bragged about his money. About his Harley Davidson. His large house. And about his favorite holiday country, Egypt. "Nothing for dumb, poor peasant girls. Egypt is a country for people like me. People from the upper layer. People who are more than others. Better. Educated people, to appreciate the vast, rich culture. Not as rich as Vienna's, of course, but still....You would be bored there, with your superficial, simple taste. Just like Vienna is better than your dog hole," he said. I always thought he was making jokes, but he was serious. For him, I was nothing but a dumb farmer's girl, good enough to fuck. It wasn't sex he had with me. He was masturbating with my vagina! I was just his plaything! He told me he had never loved me when he ended our relationship." Isabell started to cry again. She felt humiliated. "If only I could pay him back, that bastard!" she sobbed.

Christine put her arm around her. "There might be a way...," she muttered.

"How?"

"Well, my brother, Peter, is working on a machine, here at the faculty. He studied medicine and psychology, I told you that. This machine is still experimental, you know. It is, as far as I understand, some kind of Virtual Reality device. He wants to use it to study brain activity when people have all kinds of experiences, like holidays, driving a car, shopping....you normally cannot measure brain activity then. So, he uses VR. Making people think they i.e. shop. And then he sees the brain activity on his monitor."

Christine smiled. "You can also kill someone in VR. You can kill Mike, shoot him, stab him, club him to death. It's all fake, so don't worry about that. I'm sure you would love the experience."

"Is that possible?" Isabell asked in disbelief.

"Yes. And I'm sure Peter would love to see how the brain reacts to someone killing the other. You understand this has never been measured before." Christine grinned. "I'll give you the address of his workplace, and let him know you'll drop by tomorrow morning. You can talk to him about the machine. He knows more about the subject than I do, after all. Oh, and take a picture of Mike with you. Peter needs to know what he looks like, to program the machine"

Isabell left Christine's place a quarter of an hour later, holding a piece of paper with Peter's address. She felt much better already.

Chapter 2

"You must be Isabell?" Peter was a plain looking man, not pretty but not ugly either. As normal as they come. "Please, come in. Christine told me you'd come, yesterday."

Isabell was guided into a large room. A table, looking like the ones doctors use to examine their patient upon, stood in its center. Behind it, a large machine hummed softly. It consisted of countless buttons, three monitors and a long, flexible tube, ending in a cap-like shape. A lot of needles protruded from it.

"This is the machine," Peter said, waving at it. "It took us four years to build; now it's ready for testing. I'm glad you want to participate."

"How does it work?" Isabell asked. "Christine told me something about Virtual Reality?"

"Let me explain. You've seen the Matrix?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Isabell answered.

"Well, this machine works more or less like the ones used in "the Matrix". It feeds your brain with images, sounds, odors...all kinds of stimuli. Which means it replaces the senses' information send to your brain with artificially created ones. To your mind, they seem real, though. Just like the machines in "the Matrix" did to humans. Make them believe they lived in a certain world, but in reality, they were in some kind of stasis chamber, being milked of their energy."

Peter smiled. "I called it "the matrixer", by the way. In honor of this fantastic movie."

Isabell nodded, smiling. She liked the movie too.

"Now, this baby makes sure you think you are in another world as well. It fakes senses, feelings of gravity, pressure, balance, pain, hunger and thirst, among other things. You are lying here, but you think you are on a tropical beach, walking in the sand."

"Amazing!" Isabell said. "But what about my body? It lies down here, and sends information to my brain too. Does that cause a conflict?"

"No, I took care of that. Look." Peter showed her a long, rubbery tube. One part stuck in the matrixer, the other ended in a hoop. It looked as if he had a large dog collar connected to the machine.

"You wear this around your neck. It'll block all other signals, coming from your body and senses. Your real senses, I mean. So only the matrixer's stimuli will enter your brain. It works two-way. If you are extremely excited, your real heart rate won't increase, nor will feeling nauseous make your stomach churn. It'll feel to you it does though, but that is stimulation too. The machine interacts with your thoughts. Part VR, part fantasy. Your fantasy. The computer reacts to your imagination, your decisions. Just like in a computer game."

"OK," Isabell said. "And you can make me believe I shoot Mike?"

"Of course. I have to program the machine accordingly, and you'll find yourself standing in front of your ex, holding a gun, and you can shoot him. Without going to jail for it. Of course, in reality, he's still alive and won't know anything about it, so don't expect him to be afraid of you or something. But maybe the experience of shooting him, even if not real, will ease your mind. It's far more intense than a daydream, you know."

"How much does it cost?" Isabell inquired. It certainly didn't come cheap.

"Nothing. It's an experiment, after all. But...." Peter hesitated. "If you want to participate in another experiment of me, I'll give you money. A hundred Euros."

"What experiment?" Isabell asked. It sounded good, a hundred Euros was a lot of money for her.

"Sorry, I can't tell you much about it. Secrecy is part of it. Foreknowledge is a bias, you know. I'll tell you after you had your, let's call it "virtual shooting". You can still say yes or no then. But first, test the matrixer. You can spend a few minutes in VR, on the tropical beach I mentioned earlier. I use that program to make people acquainted with the machine."

"You mean right now?" Isabell asked.

"Yes. It takes just a few minutes. You can still refuse the shooting afterwards. Or now, if you really don't want."

Isabell hesitated. As curious as she was, it all happened a bit too quick for her. She had only come to ask how and what about this machine, this "matrixer", not already being connected to it. But her curiosity won, and she was lying on the table ten minutes later, ready for her first VR trip.

"Ready?" Peter asked, after having her connected. "All right, here we go!"

Isabell saw a flash, and suddenly found herself standing on a hot, sunny beach. Amazed, she looked around. Blue water, soft sand, palm trees waving in a gentle breeze. Was this all fake? She could not believe it. She felt the sunlight on her skin, looking up at the sun made her eyes water. Or so it seemed.

She strolled across the beach. There were no other people; she had a tropical paradise all for herself. She felt the breeze, heard the waves, saw the sand. Everything seemed so real, she could even make out separate grains of sand on her shoes if she looked closely.

Then, another flash, and she was back in Peter's lab. It was quite a strange feeling, so suddenly being torn away from a warm beach, now feeling her body lying on his table.

"WOW!" she exclaimed. "That...that was wonderful! I...this..." She was at a loss for words.

Peter smiled. "Thanks! Now, if you want to shoot your ex-lover, tell me so and I start programming the matrixer tomorrow. Come back in three days then. If you want, that is," he concluded.

"Yes! Yes, I want to! Oh, this is great! I can do everything with Mike, without committing a crime! I'm gonna shoot that bastard!" Isabell was overjoyed. Soon, she would feel much better. The real Mike might still live, but the virtual one wouldn't. And he would never know what she did to him in this virtual world. That secret alone was enough for Isabell to make her feel better.

Three days later, Isabell was in VR again. She found herself standing in a plain room, a large rifle in her hands. Mike was there, too, calling her names and challenging her. "Come, hit me, bitch! Hit me, carrot nose!" he cried.

"OK, I hit you," she replied. Isabell aimed the rifle, and pulled the trigger.

BANG! Mike's head started to bleed. His eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell down on the floor, blood dripping out of his forehead. Dead.

"That was awesome!" Isabell was excited. Peter had just turned off the matrixer, and Isabell was sitting on the table, overjoyed. "I could even smell the gunpowder! That bastard! Oh, I hope these matrixers become commercially available! I'll buy one and shoot him every day!" Isabell rubbed her hands at the thought.

"Glad you liked it," Peter smiled. "Now, as for the other experiment," he continued, taking a bottle out of a cupboard, "I need you to drink this." The bottle was thin and as tall as a hand. It contained a pink liquid.

"What's that?"

"This liquid just passed its test phases in the lab. We are looking for a cure for people who suffer from midget growth. Dwarfs, you know."

"OK..." Isabell said, puzzled. At 5'9, she was certainly not a midget.

"It is able to make you grow," Peter went on, "by merely wanting to. You just have to wish to get bigger, and you grow. It connects to your nerve system, see?"

"How much bigger do I get?" Isabell was satisfied with her height. She didn't want to grow much more, if at all.

"That, we don't know. It hasn't been tested on living tissue yet. We usually use animals for that kind of experiments, but one cannot make an animal "want" to grow. Wanting food, yes. Growth, no."

"And if I don't want?"

"No offence taken. It's just a question. But no hundred Euros either."

Isabell wasn't sure. Her height was fine with her. She stared at the bottle, and wondered what she should do. A hundred Euros was a lot of money, but what if the experiment failed? It could kill her. She could get cancer. She could become ill for the rest of her life.

But what if it worked? She thought of Mike, as he stood in front of her, a full 6'4, hitting her. If she was bigger than he was, he would think twice hitting her again. Or even insult her. That'd be nice. Very nice. Never humiliated again!

"All right! I do it!" Isabell said, and drained the bottle.

"Great! Now, go home and wait for a couple of hours. It takes a while before it works, see? Come back tomorrow and we'll see if you can make yourself grow. Or, wait, better yet, try to grow at home! I want to know how long it takes before it works!" Peter said.

At home, Isabell measured herself every five minutes. "Grow...grow...grow...I want to grow...," she kept thinking. But nothing happened. Still 5'9.

She had worked out a plan already to take revenge on Mike, should the stuff work. Her imagination had taken over; she pictured what she would do to Mike. Towering over him, seven, maybe eight foot tall, hitting him like he was a child. You don't care if one is too weak to block your blows, after all. His words. She imagined him licking her feet when she ordered him to do so. Isabell pictured her wiping her ass with his face, using his hair for leverage. Making him feel small and insignificant. Like an insect....yes, that was an exciting thought. Mike, the bug at her feet! How big could she get? She was certainly going to find out.

"Grow....grow....grow...," she kept thinking.

She measured herself again. It had been two hours since she drank the liquid now.

Her heart skipped a beat. 5'10! She had grown!

Chapter 3

"It works! That damned liquid works!" Isabell was happy. She tried again.

"Grow...I want to get bigger...".

She could feel her body expanding. The liquid had settled, and growing was much easier now. She inched up, slowly but steady. 5'11....6'0....6'1....her clothes became tight, so she took them off. Standing naked, she went to the bathroom to see her reflection in a large mirror. She looked taller, but everything was normal otherwise. Long, black hair, hazel eyes, pretty face. And a big nose.

She had B-cup breasts, a common body shape. Although she had always worked hard at the farm, she was not a muscular girl.

"GROW!" Isabell thought. Her body shot up, a full six inches. She stood 6'7 now.

"WOW!" she spoke out loud in disbelief. She could accelerate her growth as well, not inch by inch.

She flexed a muscle before the mirror, now not able anymore to show her entire body. "Not bad," Isabell thought, looking at the bulge. It was in proportion with the rest of her body, but still big. Compared to normal sized people that is.

Isabell grinned. Her plan was going to work. She took her widest clothes, which hardly fit her, and went off to Mike's house. She knew he was at home now, he always was at noon.

Isabell had forgotten completely to call Peter. The only think on her mind was revenge.

She had some trouble riding her bike, being a good deal bigger now, but managed and after ten minutes, she stood in front of Mike's house. Grinning, she rang. Mike opened, he was at home, and alone. His family, which Isabell never met (was he ashamed of her?) lived three city blocks away.

"Isabell?" he said. "What?" He looked up and down, her now tall body towering a head over him. Then, his face darkened.

"Are you making fun of me, Pinocchio? Walking on stilts under your pants? What kind of an idiot do you take me for, bitch? I...."

SLAM! Isabell struck him hard in the face. Mike looked at her, baffled. Then he struck back.

WHAM! Isabell was hit in the chest. She stepped back from the blow, then stumbled and fell. He was still very strong. Mike looked at her, his face twisted in anger.

Isabell got up. "So, you want to play rough, eh?" she asked. "OK, let's....play....ROUGH!" she spat, focusing on growing again.

6'9....7'2....7'8....8'5... Her clothes ripped as her body expanded. Shreds falling down her now huge frame. She stood naked in front of Mike, whose facial expression had changed to fear. And he should be! His ex was 9 feet, and coming towards him.

Mike dove inside the house, closing the door just before Isabell reached it. She knocked, then slammed, then kicked. But she couldn't get it open, or break it. It was made of solid oak.

"Open! Open up, Mike! Or else!" she cried, but Mike didn't answer.

"All right. You asked for it!" Isabell said after a minute, and started to grow again. Hands on her hips, she let loose, uncaring. She was fixed on revenge, nothing else mattered. Ten feet....eleven...fourteen....twenty...twenty-five. Mike's house grew smaller and smaller before her. It was like she stood in an elevator rising. Thirty feet (did she see Mike looking out of the window?). Forty feet. Forty-five. She halted at fifty feet, Mike's house now the size of a card box to her.

Isabell bent over, dug her hands under the roof and gave a mighty shove. It was like prying

the lid from a large box. The roof slowly raised, cracking. Plaster and debris rained down, and finally, it came off. Isabell looked inside the house. It was like the inside of a dollhouse to her, but the doll, Mike, was nowhere to be seen. She saw his furniture, his bedroom, and grabbed his bed. He wasn't hiding under it. Isabell looked at the now small bed in her hand. She hated it! In it, he had fucked her. Abused her. She clenched her hand, and crushed it like an empty soda can. Then, she threw it carelessly away.

"Where are you, Mikey?" she called down. "Come, come to me." Her voice wasn't filled with anger, it sounded more like singing. Isabell enjoyed Mike being afraid of her. But where was he?

VROOM! Isabell heard the engine of a motorcycle. Mike had managed to get to the garage next to his house, and drove away on his Harley. She could just see him shoot past her, onto the road, driving fast.

Isabell stood up, and ran after him. But he was too quick. She saw him gaining more and more ground, and decided to grow a little more. No, a lot more. See wanted to keep up with him just by walking.