R.B. Ashton
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Sensus Supra: A Night At The Pub
🕑 Added 2021-12-01 15:04:15 +0000 UTC***Here's a standalone short story from the world of Sensus Supra, a little encounter in the pub of the village near the college, featuring all new characters. Fingers crossed I'll be able to do a bunch more like this, from varying perspectives. There's a fair chunk of build up in this one, but it does get there in the end!***
Most Friday nights in The Salt Yew pub, with the fire stoked and the old brick-and-timber room fit to bursting with villagers, conversation turned to rumours about St Fiacre’s, the grand, secretive institution up the mountain pass. Rory Sinclair, a young road worker who travelled during the weeks and drank at weekends, was particularly keen on the stories. The village was a dull place to live, and the idea that a few hundred beautiful women were suddenly living nearby made it all seem suddenly special. These girls could allegedly double or triple in size, hence they had been hidden away from the world. Yet they were right on his doorstep. Rory had seen a couple of them himself, when they popped into the village shop, and they looked normal enough to him. Well, amazing, but normal-sized.
He’d not had the gall to travel up to the college itself. Hardly anyone dared. There were signs warning intruders away, and they’d all seen enough size-changing footage on the news to know it was dangerous. A lucky few got a look in, though; Bobby Evans, the village’s best (and only) plumber had repaired their boiler once, and Rory never got tired of hearing the tale. Corridors full of young women, he said, in tight jeans and crop tops, looking coy and flirty. Rory imagined finding a girl in their halls for himself, there’d be so many to choose from . . .
Then, one Friday when Rory was already a few pints in, two women actually came into the pub. Rory was at the bar shouting conversation with his friend Aiden when a hush swept through the busy room. There they were: a short one with a messy tangle of ginger hair and a loosely buttoned shirt and a raven-haired sultry-looking one in plain brown slacks and an oversized sweater. They smiled coyly and slid through the room. Rory stared open-mouthed.
Both of them were beautiful, in their own way, though the dark-haired one looked less happy to be there. Her red-haired friend was smiling, taking in the room and saying quiet hellos. They squeezed up to the bar in the only space available – next to Rory. He fumbled to make extra room, wanting to say hello, ask their names, offer to buy them drinks – but the raven-haired one turned her back on him, cutting him off. He watched as they ordered their drinks then made their way past the crowd to a small round table in a corner.
“Look totally normal, don’t they,” Aiden said, following Rory’s gaze. “Wouldn’t think there’s a thing wrong with them.”
“There isn’t,” Rory said. “They’re perfect.”
“And that is abnormal,” Elias, the big, bearded barman, chortled. “Don’t usually get normal, perfect, pretty things down The Salt Yew!”
The raven-haired woman was huddled up, trying to avoid people’s gazes, but the redhead was happily watching the pub as the villagers watched them. Rory drank another pint, fuelling the courage to say hello himself. He waited for Aiden to go to the toilet, then walked over, up behind the raven-haired one. The red-head looked up curiously, making the other girl twist his way. He smiled and immediately feared it looked goofy, with his crooked teeth. He closed his mouth again.
“Evening ladies, how are you liking the drink?” he said.
“Yeah it’s alright,” the red-head said.
“It’s a local beer, you know, there’s –”
“Are you trying to get in for a shag?” Aiden demanded with loud amusement, reappearing abruptly and shunting Rory. Beer spilt from his glass – right over the head of the raven-haired girl.
“Shit!” she shouted, jumping up in disbelief. “Prick!”
“So sorry, I didn’t mean to –” Rory said, trying to pat at her with his free hand. She swatted his hand away, eyes vicious.
“Hey, hey!” Aiden laughed drunkenly. “Lighten up, love, it was an accident!”
“It’s not funny,” she snapped, in a smooth English accent, “this is cashmere.” The girl wrestled with her sweater, pulling it off, revealing a tight black top that hugged her pert chest and teased a glimpse of cleavage. Rory gaped, stunned at being so close to such beauty.
“Rory’ll pay for a new one,” Aiden said, nudging Rory again, knocking him into the girl. Before Rory could tell him off, the girl shoved him. Rory and Aiden stumbled into the crowd behind them, causing a cascade of further shoves and spilt drinks.
Voices rose in complaint, until Elias shouted, “Alright, enough! We’re all here for a good time, aren’t we? Young ladies, perhaps you’d be more comfortable back at the school?”
“What?” the red-head piped up. She was standing, too, affronted. “We’re just trying to enjoy our drinks!”
“Aye, and it’s making people uncomfortable.”
“Bollocks!” the raven-haired girl snapped. “He’s ruined my jumper, he should leave.”
This sent another wave of complaints through the room – the usually welcoming crowd becoming irate. Rory had to do something. He called out, “It was my fault, I tripped! At least let me get them a drink, Elias, make it up to them, before anyone goes anywhere.”
There were more grumbles of complaint, as the red-head went quietly hopeful; her raven-haired friend gave her an unhappy look to say she’d rather leave anyway. Elias shrugged and shook his head, saying “Alright. But I’m watching you.”
Rory quickly bought the girls more beers, forgetting to ask what they wanted. He sloshed the glasses onto the table and said, “I’m so sorry about my friend, he’s an ass.”
“It’s fine, it’s a Friday night, we’re all drinking,” the red-head said, relaxing again.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Rory asked.
“As long as he stays away.” The raven-haired one nodded Aiden’s way.
Rory grinned – his sentiments exactly. He sat, then asked, “Are you allowed out here? Down in the village?”
The redhead took a sip of beer before answering. “We’re not prisoners, of course we can come out.”
The raven-haired one snorted to say that wasn’t the full story.
Trying not to dwell on her negativity, Rory asked, “Where are you from originally?”
They told him: the red-head, Heather, had come from Manchester, two months ago. The raven-haired girl, Jan, said she lived in Oxford, in a way that suggested she belonged there now. Rory understood that once they’d shown signs of the growing affliction, they’d been removed from their homes to be here, but they were making the most of it right now. Rory started listing the many virtues of the Highlands. Clean water, clean air, plenty of space. Good-natured, community-minded people and a gorgeous stretch of countryside. He offered to show them around, and Jane snorted again, as if such a thing were highly unlikely.
He didn’t let it dampen his spirits. He said they could come into town for movie nights down the school hall, or the quiz night on Wednesdays. They could go boating on the loch. Heather was smiling fondly; he was getting there. Rory bought more drinks, and he and Heather joked and laughed, and they were gradually folded back into the pub’s party atmosphere; by the end of the night they were just part of the crowd, without fear, and even Jane smiled after a shot of whisky.
One thing seamlessly led to another and then Rory was outside with Heather, resting against the wall, his lips pressed into hers, tongues tracing hungry patterns in each other’s mouths. He ran a hand over her curves, and caressed and squeezed one of her breasts, a dream come true – until they were interrupted by Jane tutting with disapproval. She said, “Dammit Heather.”
Rory twisted around with frustration and Heather broke free from the kiss to confront her, but Jane started coughing. She turned away, hands on her knees as she stumbled into the road and coughed again, as though she was going to be sick.
“Oh no,” Heather whispered. “Not now.”
That made it sound serious. The affliction? Rory barely had time to process that before Jane suddenly lurched forwards, then surged up. Her body and clothes expanded in quick bulges, like a balloon being rapidly pumped up, and as Rory watched she grew. In seconds, she was twice the height, tensely hunching and grunting, teeth gritted, as she kept going. The road creaked under her weight and people came running out of the pub. A woman screamed in surprise. The girl was big as the pub itself, two storeys tall in a crouch, when she stopped growing. She took in big, calming breaths, a sound that filled the street, as everyone else stood in shocked silence.
Heather stepped towards her friend and raised a hand. “Jane. Have you got your button on you? We need to alert the school –”
Jane turned sharply to her, with a piercing gaze. Her hair hung long down past her face, its shadows sinister along with her already dark appearance, her massive size frightening. Still, Rory found himself gawking in amazement – she was everything he had imagined and more. A statue come to life, a genuine giant college girl, right here in their village.
“Forget the button,” the giantess rumbled, her voice rolling through the buildings. The crowd backed up towards the pub as Jane knelt down over them, trousers folding with curtain-sized creases. Her eyes settled on Rory. “We came out for a fun night and instead you chose him.”
Rory’s heart leapt in a warning of danger, and Heather stepped in front of him defensively. She said, “Jane. Press the button and we’ll head back, okay?” She addressed the villagers. “I’m sorry – it’s okay, though, no need to be scared. We have protocols, we just need to –”
A woman shrieked and Rory pulled Heather back as Jane raised a hand towards them. Jane’s fingers closed through the air where Heather had been, but the giant hand opened again snatching towards him. Rory shouted as huge fingers closed around his chest and he was lifted off the ground. His stomach lurched and he clutched onto Jane’s tree-thick index finger as she effortlessly carried him up past the height of the surrounding buildings, with people shouting panic below. She held him at head height and glared.
“Did you enjoy kissing her?” the giant woman demanded. “Hijacking our conversation? Getting cosy with my friend?”
Rory was rigid with fear, realising that this enormous woman had ideas, herself, about how she wanted the night to go. She would have preferred to be alone with Heather. Maybe she even fancied her? Rory shook his head quickly and said, “I didn’t mean to upset you!”
Jane narrowed her massive eyes, then looked down. He followed her gaze to the gathering of twenty or thirty people in the street, all looking up with fear that mirrored his own. It was a dizzying height down, and no one had any idea what to do. Even Heather looked dumbstruck, staring up. Noticing her, Jane reached down with her other hand. People pushed each other down, scrambling out of the way, and Heather cried, “Jane, no!” as the giantess grabbed her.
“Leave her alone!” Rory shouted, but Heather shoved Jane’s fingers and kicked her legs as the giantess lifted her up, too. Jane looked from one hand to another with a look of malicious satisfaction.
“You are a sweet couple,” she said, “but let me show you how it feels, Heather, to watch someone you like kissing someone else.”
Jane pulled Rory suddenly towards her face and he cried out before his face was pressed into her enormous, pillowy lips. He bucked his head and pressed his hands against her cheeks but she only pressed him in stronger with a kiss that smothered him and muffled his cries. When she pulled him away again, he took quick breaths, face dripping with her saliva.
“How far were you going to go?” Jane said. “Should I give him head? Literally.” She laughed meanly then opened her mouth and lifted Rory back towards it. He tried to get his hands up, but barely got a grip on one of her huge teeth as his head was thrust between her lips. His entire head was in her mouth, slapping against her moving tongue, and all his struggles couldn’t get him loose. She sucked, hard, and licked him all over, tongue sliding one way then another. He was pulled further in, up to his shoulders, completely filling her mouth, pressed on all sides by wet, fleshy confines. There was an empty space before him, the gaping opening into her huge, contracting throat. The close proximity struck him with sudden panic – she might swallow him, she was crazy!
Rory pushed and shoved with all the strength his constricted arms could muster. Outside her cheeks, he heard villagers shouting, getting up the courage and outrage to protest. Finally, the giantess pulled Rory back out of her mouth and Jane laughed as his friends yelled at her.
“Piss off,” she told the crowd. “I could squash all of you.”
“Put him down you massive bitch!” Aiden’s voice somehow cut above the rest of the noise, the man fuelled by drunken courage.
Jane growled irritably and rose up off her haunches to stand. The crowd scattered again, leaving Aiden on his own. His courage fled him before the sight of the giant standing over the village, and he darted back towards the pub entrance. The crowd gasped and Rory shouted a warning as Jane lifted a foot – her huge boot, a tatty black leather one with laces, knocked Aiden down. His arms and legs flailed desperately as Jane pinned him with a boot as big as he was.
“You’re nothing but a roach,” Jane said, and Aiden shrieked as she put pressure on her toe.
“Stop it!” Elias boomed, bursting out of the pub. “You let him up at once! I’ve called the school!”
Jane paused, glaring down at him, and Rory half-expected her to stomp on the brave barman instead. A great circle of space had formed around the yellow glow of the pub doorway where Elias stood alongside the boot that pinned Aiden down.
“No you haven’t,” Jane said, but he nodded quickly.
“We’ve got a hotline to them, you oughta know that. Any trouble at all, they’ll be here quick as you like. It was a condition of them opening the college there. Now you take your foot off young Aiden and put Rory down or there’ll be consequences.”
Jane glowered from him to Rory, then to Heather, who was stiffly afraid in the other hand.
“We’re all here for a good time, aren’t we?” the giantess said, echoing the barman’s words from earlier. “Just having some fun.” She lifted her boot off Aiden and he scrambled up against the wall to cower in a shivering ball. But she held up Rory. “When’s he going to have a chance for a ride like this again?” She drew him to her chest, and he flapped his limbs as she pressed him into her left breast. He was squeezed into the soft material of her top, her flesh folding around him, as she rubbed him over her chest, then across her cleavage. She held him back out with a wicked smile on her face. “Look at how happy he is.”
Rory was almost breathless, terrified but also exhilarated. He was tight in the trousers, too, his body reacting with lust where his mind was still trying to catch up to what was going on. But below, people called out with disgust and discontent, and Elias was shaking his head with clear disapproval.
“Fine,” Jane scoffed, and stepped to the side. She almost staggered, slightly drunk, but caught herself as a booted foo almost crashed through a building. She laughed with genuine amusement.
“Put him down!” Elias shouted, confidence turning to desperation, but Jane turned away from the crowd, carrying Rory up higher.
“Listen to them!” Heather added her voice. “Jane, you can’t just pick up a local!”
“That’s what you were doing,” Jane snapped, and marched away from the pub. Her big booted feet shook the village and Rory twisted in her grip to look back with waning hope. People raced into the street but no further, watching as he was carried away. In a handful of thunderous strides, Jane left the village behind and reached the dark of the surrounding countryside. Heather kept protesting, trying to reason with the giantess, but Rory concentrated on simply keeping hold of Jane’s fingers, in case her grip slackened – it would be a fatal fall from here.
“I’m taking him for you, Heather,” Jane said. “You wanted him, after all. Now you can be together. With me.”
“It was just a kiss!” Heather cried.
“We’ll find somewhere quiet, secluded,” Jane went on. “All of us together. You can take turns.”
Rory stared up in alarm – take turns doing what? He was chest-height to Jane now, and compelled to watch the shape of her breasts bouncing as she walked, each big enough to squash him, but together a marvel of nature, or whatever this was. He could lose himself in her chest. Live on her. This was everything he had imagined and more, he realised. No matter what Jane thought of him, and what she intended, she was incredible, massive, beautiful –
“And when we’re done,” she continued, though, “I’ll eat him. There’ll be no trace. I’ll be the monster they all are so horribly afraid of, why not?”
Jane looked at him and he sensed she meant it. He cringed, recalling being in her mouth. She would do it. He needed to say something, to insist there was no way she could treat a person this way. But he was completely at her mercy. If she wanted to eat him, well . . . His eyes tracked down her huge torso, and he imagined the vast chamber of her stomach. Would it give meaning to his pointless life, to feed something so much greater than himself?
“Oh shit,” Jane gasped, breaking him from that thought, and Rory looked over his shoulder to see something even bigger and more incredible ahead – the vast shadow of a mountain moving closer, along with earth-shaking quakes.
“Young lady,” a sharp voice cut through the sky like a command from God. “You put them down at once – safely.”
“But Miss Cathries –”
“At once,” the other lady commanded. The mountainous shape resolved into another enormous woman as she got closer – even more vast than Jane, wearing a smart suit. She was so huge Rory couldn’t take in her full height from his position. She put her hands on her hips expectantly and glared, and he was suddenly being lowered as Jane muttered apologies. He was released and staggered away from Jane’s boot, which sat like a small building beside him.
“Now you come with me this instant,” the other woman said, and Jane’s boot bent and lifted away. Rory flinched and ducked as though Jane might squish him, but her huge boot swung away and thumped far down the road. Rory watched as her towering shadow moved on into the night, following the even bigger form of the woman who had reprimanded her. A scolding, bossy superior. However incredible Jane had become, there were teachers out there, weren’t there? People in charge, women even more powerful and amazing than the students. Rory stood staring up the dark road, alone, marvelling at the prospect. But – Jane had carried Heather away with her. What would they do now?
He had barely moved a muscle when a car pulled up next to him and Elias and Aiden jumped out. They shoved him into the car, to return quickly to the village, marvelling at how lucky they’d all been, and warning that he steer well clear of all that business in the mountains. Rory wasn’t sure he could, now he’d seen the reality of these goddesses.
One day, he’d be invited to the school itself, wouldn’t he? Or more girls would come into town. He’d seen a mere slip of their world, and however dangerous it had felt, he wanted more. Like a moth drawn to a flame, he inwardly joked. He would see them again.
Like a moth drawn to a flame.
