Page 62 of My Tiny Giant
“So?” I asked, feeling a bit nervous inside. “How was it?”
A huge smile spread on his face.
“So...bizarre.” He blinked, shaking his head. “This is probably the most extraordinary experience I’ve ever had.”
“So, did you like getting a blow job from a giant woman?” I laughed.
“I loved getting it from you ,” he corrected. “That’s what made it the most wonderful.” He kept smiling—happy and relaxed—his arms spread wide.
“Should I take that measurement now?” I tipped my chin at the discarded measuring tape nearby.
He followed my gesture with his eyes, then laughed. “Now I’m really happy I didn’t go to a tailor!”
“No.” I chuckled, too. “I doubt you would’ve gotten that type of service there.”
He rose on his elbows, bringing his face closer to mine. His smile gave way to a more serious expression.
“You’re the only one who gives me some sense of normalcy, Emma. When I’m with you, even the darkest of my worries fade away.”
* * *
“D O YOU WANT ME TO UNTIE my hair? For you to hide under?” I asked Agan on the parking platform of the Central Mall.
We’d hired an aircraft to get here this afternoon, after I’d finally managed to take all his measurements.
He was sitting on my shoulder, still wearing his old combat pants. We came to the mall to buy some fabric for his new pants. I could have bought it without Agan, but he volunteered to come with me.
I knew he must be feeling apprehensive about the attention he was for sure to receive in a public place like this. I could put him in my purse—it was large enough to fit a cat. However, I had a feeling Agan wouldn’t like that. He wasn’t a cat, after all.
“Here.” I reached for my hair tie.
“No.” He stopped me by touching my hand. “I can’t hide forever. I don’t mind the staring. If you can deal with it, so can I.”
“As you wish.” I left my hair as it was, in a ponytail, and headed down the glass walkway that connected the landing platform to the main glass dome of the Central Mall. “Are you even allowed to go out at all?” I imagined the authorities might want to keep Agan’s existence a secret from the general public, if only to use him for more undercover missions in the future. “Would you get in trouble with either of the governments for this?”
“Neither of the governments can give me my old life back,” he replied bitterly. “If they try to stop me from having any life at all, they can go fuck themselves.”
I understood his desire to be able to do ordinary things freely, just like everyone else.
The mall was busy this afternoon. Voranians rushed by, shooting curious glances my way. Some spotted Agan on my shoulder, stopping in their tracks. I did my best to ignore them, moving along a wide hallway with shops on each side.
“Where should we go first?” I asked Agan while searching for one of the information drones that normally hovered close to the entrance. “I’d say we get the fabric for you. Then, I’d like to buy a couple of those cute dresses that are in fashion in Voran, if you don’t mind staying here a bit longer.”
“I love dresses on you.” Agan shifted closer to my neck, wrapping his tail around it. The now familiar tickle of the fluffy tip sent goosebumps of pleasure down my arms.
“Excuse me,” a Voranian woman stopped in front of me.
She tilted her head, staring at Agan. Strings of colorful beads dangled from her long, polished horns. I slid an appreciative glance over her pink dress with a flared, knee-high skirt and a silver ribbon for a belt.
With the natural birth rate of one female to ten males, women were a minority in Voran. Here, in the mall, however, there were almost as many women as there were men.
“May I ask where you got that?” She pointed at Agan with a neatly filed black claw painted with silver dots. “Is this an electronic or a mechanical toy?”
“Neither.” I blushed violently, extremely offended for Agan. “He is—”
“I’m an AI,” Agan interrupted me, in a cheerful tone. “An artificial intelligence. A new-generation drone, exported from the planet Earth.”
“Is it available for sale anywhere in Voran?” The woman gaped at him as she spoke to me.