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A Dish Best Served Huge
by Rapscalion

"What did daddy look like?" Alissa asked her mother when she turned five. Alissa had never met her father, who died before she was born. But she was a curious girl, determined and smart. "He had dark hair," Alissa's mother Kim explained, "and brown eyes."

"Was daddy tall?" Alissa asked when she turned eight. She wondered, because at five-foot-five, she was easily the tallest girl in her class. Taller than the boys, too. In fact, she was as tall as her mother. "Yes," Kim told her. "Your father was quite tall."

"How tall?" Alissa asked when she turned eleven. Now she was six-foot-three, taller than all but one teacher at her school. "I don't remember exactly," Kim told her. "But very tall." Alissa didn't mind being so tall. She was confident, intelligent, and beautiful. She knew that her classmates made fun of her because they were intimidated. Still, she wondered how tall she would grow.

"Why aren't there any pictures of Daddy?" Alissa asked when she turned twelve. "We've been through this before," Kim told her daughter, who at six-foot-five was now a full foot taller than her. "Your father didn't like pictures." "I know," Alissa said. "I just thought maybe there'd be one, somewhere."

It was not even a month later that Alissa, waiting for a friend at the library, got an idea: she'd look up her father's obituary. She knew he must have died in the nine months prior to her birth. So she got out the microfilm of the local paper and started her search. She didn't find an obituary that day. Or the next. Or any day. But the next week, a photo caught her eye as it blurred past on the screen. Was that her mother? Alissa rewound and found the photo. It was her mother, pregnant and crying. The headline above the photo read "Accused Rapist Acquitted!"

Kim's heart sank when Alissa confronted her. "I never wanted you to know who your father really was," she said. "He was huge. Two feet taller than me, and strong as an ox. Or ten. He raped me. It took eight policemen to restrain him. The jury was terrified of him. They couldn't send him away long enough to feel safe. So they found him not-guilty."

Alissa felt the anger welling up inside her. "So he's alive?"

"Yes," Kim said. "He lives in Blackburg now. I hear he hasn't changed his ways at all."

Alissa lay diagonally across her too-short bed, staring at the ceiling, most of that night. She'd always wanted to know about her father. Now she wished she'd never found out. He was a seven-and-a-half foot bully, a rapist, and a scumbag. As the hours passed, her despair turned to anger, and then to resolve. Her father had given her one thing: size. He might be able to intimidate everybody else, but she was big, and getting bigger. There was no telling how much she'd still grow, but that night, she was determined to grow as big and as tall as she possibly could. She stood against the wall in her bare feet and marked her height with a pencil -- she was just under the height of the door frame. Then she measured to seven-foot-five, her father's height. She could barely believe it -- it was so close to the ceiling! But Alissa vowed she would get that tall... or taller.

And so the regimen started. Alissa ate six meals a day, all protein. She exercised an hour a day and three on weekends. Before she went to bed, she would meditate and imagine herself growing relentlessly taller. And it was either this regimen, her genes, or sheer force of will, but something was working. In six months, she'd grown two inches, and by her thirteenth birthday, she stood a commanding six-eight.

At school, she towered over everyone, her small but growing breasts at eye level with most of the boys. She had some friends, but she was so much taller than they were she often couldn't even hear what they were talking about way down there. The company that made the school uniforms had to make special ones for her, but now those were starting to get small, too. But as huge as she was, she was still a good nine inches shorter than her father. She had to grow more. Much more.

And grow she did. That year, she added another four inches! At a full seven feet, she was taller than the lockers in the girls locker room, where many of the girls barely came up to her increasingly full breasts. She joined the basketball team, knowing a sports scholarship was the key to getting her into a college her mother could never afford, and suddenly male attendance at the games shot way up. She knew the guys liked watching her boobs bounce around in the other girls' faces. But she was also unstoppable on the court, not just towering but fast with her enormous stride, and able to drop the ball in the basket while keeping it well out of any opponent's reach.

As even seven feet became a memory, Alissa started to understand how her father, still even bigger than her, could consider himself above the law. In her worst moments -- when she got annoyed, grumpy, or simply impatient -- she would momentarily stop thinking of the little people around her as her equals. They were always in her way. She felt like the only adult in a world of children, a world that she was increasingly outgrowing. Door frames were no longer just a nuisance, they almost seemed an insult to her. When she stood in a stall in the ladies room, she couldn't help but see down into the stalls on either side of her, and eventually she got tired of apologizing to the girls in those stalls. It wasn't her fault they made the dividers so short! And when she sat in those stalls, her knees often pressed against the door. She resented that she couldn't take driver's ed, because none of the cars could fit her. She could only ride in her mother's car if she sat diagonally across the back seat, and it amused her to see the looks on people's faces as she unfolded her endless legs out of the car and stood up, and up, and up, and up.

At school, the chair-desks were becoming uncomfortably small -- she could manage to slide her legs under the desks, but then couldn't even cross them -- and in general, she chose to sit on tables or counters in the backs of most of her classrooms. She knew the teachers wouldn't mind -- they seemed more intimidated by her size than the students. Maybe it was because her teachers allegedly had authority over her, authority that almost seemed a joke given their relative sizes. And she wasn't above subtly using her size to intimidate them, because she knew it would be reflected in her grades, which, she knew, were probably a little higher than she really deserved. She'd long ago abandoned the school uniforms, but flaunted that fact when she came to school one day in a short skirt and a tight shirt that clung snugly to her fantastic breasts (which, even adjusting for her scale, were now huge). When the principal got the nerve to chastise her, she came to school the next day in her old uniform. The skirt barely went past her butt, and her great boobs lifted the shirt up, revealing her tight stomach. Her breasts strained the buttons on her shirt, revealing a chasm of cleavage. Okay, it was a bit obnoxious, but she was making a point -- at her size, she made her own rules.

And yet, the line on the wall remained elusive. As towering as she was -- and by now, she dwarfed even the tallest men she encountered -- her father still had inches on her, and her vow to grow to his height increasingly seemed frustratingly just out of reach. Her size and her strength were off the chart... except her father was just a bit further off the chart. Did she dare confront him anyway? No, she thought. Despite it all, he still had the advantage.

"You're too tall," the assistant basketball coach said at Alissa's pre-season check-up. What the hell kind of stupid comment was that?, Alissa, now a senior, wondered as she glanced down at the top of his head. "No," he explained, "I mean, you're too tall for this measurer. It only goes to seven-foot-six. That's a couple inches too short for you." What? Alissa stared at him. "You're wrong," she said. "I'm not that tall."

"You sure are," he assured her. "Look." He raised the metal ruler up as far as it would go. It stopped a few inches shy of the top of Alissa's head. "That's seven-foot-six. And you even look down on that!"

How could this be? Sure, it had been a while since Alissa had actually measured herself. And her clothes were all specially made by a seamstress friend of her mother's, so she never checked her inseam. But she still stood next to her line on the wall, if not daily now, then at least weekly. After practice, she dashed home to check.

She was right -- she still looked up to the line. And then she noticed something. Just below the line, there were other lines. They were hard to see, but on close inspection, apparent. She could see three other lines that had been erased!

"Yes, I did it," her mother admitted that night. "I knew what you were up to. I didn't want you getting ****y. You're so used to being the biggest by far, I was worried you'd confront your father before you were big enough, and strong enough."

"But I've outgrown him now," Alissa said, as she rose to her feet. She redrew the line -- her first line -- at her father's height. "Look how much taller I am."

Kim smiled. "You have, and you are. Just be careful, okay?"

"Of course," Alissa smiled, as her mother rose to hug her. By now, the top of Kim's head merely brushed the bottom of her daughter's very ample breasts. "He's going to pay for what he did to you."

--------------------------------------------

Alissa's father finished his eggs. And steak. And pancakes. He was at his usual table -- the only one big enough to fit him. The waitress -- a fresh-faced, busty young thing who was new there -- approached the table. "Can I get you anything else?" she asked, though he'd already had five breakfast plates. He looked her up and down and smiled, gulping down the last of his coffee.

"Nothing on the menu," he said, his intentions as obvious as his joke. The waitress quickly tore off his check and put it on the table. "I'm sorry, honey, you're new here. You don't realize -- my food is free. Isn't that nice? They don't charge me. But if you're hoping for a tip, I'll be happy to give you something bigger than anything you've ever had before."

"That's okay," the waitress said, backing away. And then, by rote, she added "Have a nice day."

"I will," Alissa's father replied as he stood to his full height. The waitress -- who, at five-nine was tall for a woman -- felt like a midget next to him. He put his huge hand on her shoulder and effortlessly pulled her to him. Pressed against him, she could feel his gigantic penis growing in his pants.

"Come on, Dean," the diner's owner protested. "She's new."

"I like 'em new," Alissa's father Dean replied, as he pushed the waitress out the door. She struggled, futilely. The other people in the diner didn't do anything. They knew from experience it, too, would be futile.

Then, a car door opened in Dean's path. "Let her go!" Dean looked for the source of the voice.

A pair of legs emerged from the back seat of the car. Long, long legs. Followed by Alissa's arms and head. As she unfolded her body, she rose, higher and higher. Dean had never seen anybody so tall, and she was still straightening up. As she stood up straight to her full height, Alissa looked down at her father's stunned face. She couldn't help but let out a quick laugh.

"Holy ****!" blurted Ned, a patron in the diner since he was a kid. "There's a girl out there bigger than Dean!"

Everybody in the place rushed to the window. They never thought they'd see Dean look up to anybody, much less a gorgeous young woman.

"Let her go," Alissa repeated.

"Why don't you mind your own business?" Dean replied.

"Why don't you pick on somebody your own size for once?" Alissa said.

Alissa noticed a crowd gathering at a safe distance. She didn't know what the next move was. She'd spent years dreaming about this moment -- about confronting her father -- but what did that mean? What was she going to do?

She could hear the crowd murmuring. "She's gigantic." "She's a monster." "Look at the size of those tits!," a teenage boy exclaimed to his friends. "How did she get that big?" For the first time in her life, Alissa felt self-conscious. Every eye was on her. Was she just a humongous freak?

Dean turned from Alissa, and the crowd parted in fear to let him pass. "Screw you," he said. And he dragged the waitress with him. The waitress looked up at Alissa, plaintively. Alissa smiled back at her. She took a few steps toward her father, reached out her long arm, and grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Eighteen years ago, you raped my mother," she announced. "And you used your size to get away with it. Obviously, you think being the biggest gives you the right to do whatever you want. Well, you're not the biggest anymore. Your little girl is not so little anymore. I'm bigger than you. I'm stronger than you. And what I say, goes."

Alissa stood up straight to accentuate her height advantage. But before she could enjoy it, Dean planted his knee right into her stomach! Alissa doubled over, all the wind knocked out of her! Bent over, she was looking straight into the eyes of the waitress and all her normal-sized friends, and she could see the their disappointment. Clearly, Alissa wasn't their savior from Dean, any more than any other person brave or stupid enough to challenge him had been. But she only had a second to think all this, because she felt the force of Dean's foot against her face, and it knocked her backward!

As Alissa stumbled backward, time seemed to slow down. She could hear the crowd scream as she felt herself tumbling into them, taking down eight or ten full-grown people like they were bowling pins. She fell on top of them, her huge body crushing those unlucky enough to be caught beneath her. She could hear them gasping for breath as she struggled to roll off them.

Dean laughed. Alissa watched from the ground as he straightened to his full, gigantic height, mocking the puny people who stood uselessly beneath him. She was devastated. She had lost.

Just then, she felt two hands on hers. She looked up to see two teenage girls, each a bit younger than her, offering to help her up.

It wasn't until she was getting to her feet that Alissa noticed how tall the girls were. Though neither approached her own height, they were clearly each a good six-foot-eight or even taller! As Alissa rose to her full height, the girls exchanged a glance. "I think we have another half-sister," one said.

Alissa got her bearings. Clearly, her own mother wasn't the only victim of Dean, not by far. Clearly he had to be stopped. Her half-sisters smiled at her. They dwarfed everybody else in the crowd, and Alissa dwarfed them. It made Alissa realize anew just how big she was. She hadn't spent all this time growing, getting stronger, to be defeated now. She straightened her shirt and adjusted her huge breasts in her huge bra. Suddenly, she didn't feel self-conscious anymore. She felt powerful.

It took only a couple of her gigantic steps to get to her father. This time she took the first shot, pounding him across the face with her right hand. The force of the blow stunned him -- since his early teens, he'd never even faced anybody who could even reach his face, much less somebody as strong as Alissa. She took advantage of his moment of shock to deliver a powerful punch to his stomach and, for good measure, a kick to the groin. Dean fell over in pain.

It was the waitress who was first to take advantage of the giant's newfound vulnerability, kicking him again in the privates. Then the floodgates opened -- twenty years of torment by this way overgrown bully had taken a toll on the town's psyche, and now it was payback time. Alissa stood back and watched in satisfaction as the Davids pummeled Goliath, finally feeling every inch of her gigantic stature and loving it. Her half-sisters approached her. "There are four more of us, that we know of," one told her. "I think they'd like to meet you."

Three days later, the seven girls got together at a nearby restaurant. All stood between 6'5" and 6'9", and had never felt short until they met Alissa. They sat at one table, their endless legs entangled around each other underneath. They thought it was funny, and laughed at the stares they got from pretty much everybody. "Didn't Dean have any sons?" Alissa asked. "I haven't seen any evidence of it," Deb, a 6'9" beauty, replied. "We can ask him, if he ever gets out of the hospital." On their way out of the restaurant, they passed a six-foot, ten year old girl with her short mother, and wondered if she, too, was one of them.

Alissa's mission was done, but she was not done growing. In the next year, she continued to get even taller, adding another inch and a half, and finally topping out at just over 7'9". She had her pick of basketball scholarships, looking down as she did on even the tallest man in the NBA. She got used to the feeling of her hair brushing the ceilings of most rooms, even in the flattest shoes. The visceral reminder that even buildings barely fit her gigantic body was oddly exciting sometimes. For social events, when she knew the ceilings would be high, she wore six-inch heels, which showed off her phenomenally long and shapely legs. It would cause quite a stir, Alissa's legs being as long as some attendees' entire bodies. She became so comfortable with her gigantic stature that it no longer angered her that the world was built so inadequately small for her she was, after all, much bigger than anybody could reasonably account for. She was a giant, and she loved every minute of it.

THE END