Strip Tease (Chapter 4)

Jessica Lynn, the forty-mile stripper, swayed over her domain. The wreckage of the landscape she’d so thoroughly outgrown was now her stage, and all she wanted now was to display herself for the populace. Her crystal platform high heels bore deep craters into the remains of Nevada, dusted it with blood, sweat, and tears; the sweat originated from Jessica’s feverish dance, though the other two fluids, of course, came from her accidental victims. Without a pole to dance on and twirl her limber legs about, the giantess was a little lost at first, but after she got comfortable making her own body the center of the dance, the golden goddess really had a show for the world. She sang with a throaty hum, the music echoing across the land, almost as loudly as her own confident footsteps.

            And at her new height, she indeed had the largest audience she’d ever enjoyed for one of her shows. Granted, anyone close enough to get a really good look or tuck dollars into Jessica’s toe-cleavage, was already pulverized into the ruins each time those shimmering heels came colliding back to earth like meteors. However, for those people anxiously watching on the outskirts, glued to their TVs and radios, the news rolled in regarding the mysterious mega-woman who was sensuously demolishing everything within fifty miles of Las Vegas.

            When she couldn’t remember any more of the song, Jessica stopped in her jaunt. She stroked her chin, taking in the sight of the destruction below. It was hard to believe she’d done all that. Sure, her crystal heels were heavy-duty, and made a satisfying clack on the Vegas catwalk, but the most damage she’d ever done with them was kicking a customer in the crotch when he got too grabby.

            Now, she was taking out entire counties of the state with a single step. All around the towering blonde, she noticed the stamped matter of the planet molded into the distinct semi-circle of her crystal platforms, punctuated with the spike-heel behind. This shape painted the landscape like a rug pattern, with entire urban metropolises, forests, small suburbs, and especially the once-blazing neon utopia of Vegas all trampled and mashed into the exact shape of her heels’ unforgiving glass tread.

            “Gosh,” the woman observed. “Was that really all me? Jesus, who’s even gonna see me dancing now? They all went squish!” Jessica ruffled her golden tresses, scratching her head, then planted her hands on her shapely hips. All this sun-smooched tannery, hoisted skyward on the altars of her crystal heels, and yet no one could enjoy her? What was the point, she wondered? It seemed a waste.

            “Well, where else is gonna really appreciate seeing somebody like little ol’ me?” Jessica pondered aloud. “I don’t wanna walk all the way to the east coast. That’ll take, like, half an hour! But maybe in California… yeah, yeah!” She looked to the horizon, and made her best guess at the location of Los Angeles. Jessica wasn’t exactly a geography whiz, but she knew how to follow the sun. So, satisfied with her choice, the girl set off across the previously unspoiled landscape, crushing everything in her path on the way.

            Now, those hapless cities which previously were only made to watch in confusion and fright through their televisions as Jessica stomped and danced Vegas into dust, became a brand-new audience for the ditzy leviathan. Always conscious of her physical appearance and movements, Jessica recalled the words of the many experienced professionals who’d taught her how to drip with animal sensuality on every measured step upon a catwalk. Thus, the trip to L.A. was turned into a prime example of that practice. Jessica’s crystal battleships crossed miles at a time, gleaming with sunlight, then cascading down from the clouds back toward the people below.

            Yet again, the spotless glassy structure of the shoes created an optical illusion. While most people could see those slender naked feet with bulbed hammer-toes belonging to the luxurious stripper, they couldn’t see the platforms containing them; unfortunately, this meant the people had several seconds less to live before they were flattened, as they didn’t notice the gemstone-like heels smushing their livelihoods until it was already happening. And those angelic pink soles flexed and writhed above, piloting the shoes as they took out town after town on the way to California. A clear trail formed, leading from Las Vegas straight to the forty-mile wonder, as her heels left startling ovular sinkholes everywhere. The impacts were so influential on the very fabric of America’s geometry, Jessica might as well have been stepping across a fluffy frosted cake in her shoes.

            “California, here I come!” the giantess announced, holding her arms wide, and pirouetting as she crossed the state lines. Jessica utterly failed to notice the gathered blockade of army tanks, trucks, and helicopters, not to mention hundreds of ground troops, who stood pathetic sentinel at the edge of the border. She also failed to notice the attacks they launched: machine gunfire, turrets, grenades, and tactical missiles were launched in a hailstorm of fire upon those approaching crystal heels.

            All of the military’s attacks pinged right off Jessica’s shoes like raindrops, and she didn’t even have a reason to look down and notice them. Nor was she aware as she wiped out entire battalions with a single well-placed foot. That gleaming glass heel, which Jessica often joked to herself was the slutty version of Cinderella’s slipper, silenced the army and mushed them down to a single inch tall with just one world-compressing step. A single stride, and most of the armed forces yet marshalled were turned into indistinguishable human pancakes.

            None of this incredible violence down below was known to Jessica; she was far too pre-occupied with scoping out Los Angeles. It took longer than she would’ve wished, and she made several wrong turns on the way, crushing and stampeding through several towns which would’ve never been touched if only the stripper had a better sense of direction. Criss-crossing patterns of those famous crystal shoes dotted much of the western seaboard during Jessica’s search: the mountain terrain was turning uniformly flat every time the woman steam-rolled her translucent platforms atop yet another innocent urban sprawl.

            Over the next hour, she spent time combing through the lush California seaside, delicately brushing buildings with her fingertips and squinting for anything that said ‘Los Angeles’ so she could know for sure. This proved unhelpful, though, and most of the cities looked the same to her, so the monstrous blonde took to asking for help directly. Back in Vegas, at her regular size, her charms and beauty usually got just about anyone to help Jessica out. She was counting on that luck here, but it was difficult to get the attention of any of the microbial people as they fled for their lives before they became the next atomic crumb of gutsy collateral adhered to the stripper’s gleaming high heels.

            “Hello!” Jessica announced pleasantly as she used her colorful manicured fingernail to crack open the tops of needle-sized skyscrapers. “I’m looking for L.A. I want to dance for everyone there, see, and I know they’d accept me, even if I’m a little taller than most strippers, just because… hey, is anyone even listening to me? You’re all just running away, without getting to know me first. Rude!”

            Jessica didn’t feel the least bit bad about smushing the cities full of people who refused to take pity and answer her questions; they were all so concerned with shouting and escaping en masse, they couldn’t even stop to offer comfort to a scared young woman.

            Well, two could play at that game.

            Just then, the United States military made its redemptive stand, after Jessica unwittingly won the first battle at the border. They’d brought much heavier hardware this time. To a woman of Jessica’s size, though, their most advanced and destructive technology was smaller than a grain of rice.

            “What’s THAT!” Jessica boomed, pointing at the speck. The comparatively flea-sized missile spat plumes of smoke behind as it zipped straight for its gigantic warm-bodied target. Waving her palms did little to deter the path of the weapon, especially since she was afraid to look directly at the object. When the missile made contact, an explosion erupted on the stripper’s stomach just above her navel. Ash and flames crumbled in the form of a dying spark down Jessica’s washboard stomach.

            She screamed in terror. Her high-pitched moan yawned across the lands, shattering windows for one hundred miles around. Of course, the missile hadn’t actually hurt her; at most, due to her durable demigod body, the powerful weapon was similar to being poked with a dinner fork. Unfortunately, Jessica didn’t know the difference, and flailed about, horrified at the thought of being blown apart by misunderstanding military cretins.