Giantess Gretchen: 877-496-0255: 2.50 per minute, billed to your credit card

You and your friends on that lifeboat, shipwrecked, cheer when you see an island rising from the mists before you. You rush to paddle yourselves over the reefs onto the sandy beaches, to be thankful for land at last. When you find those incredibly huge palms with their tire sized coconuts, it's like a miracle.

You build a fire on the beach, dancing and perhaps swigging the last of the liquor you had hoarded on the lifeboat, in celebration. But then you hear it, the crashing smashing sound of trees snapping. Some kind of enormous animal must be approaching! You arm yourself with torches, trembling, and then you see....ME.

Standing tall above the trees that break so easily when I push at them, waves of blonde hair gleaming brighter than the sun, a red hibiscus the size of a Volkswagon behind one ear. Your tiny little bodies tremble when I step from the trees, my legs longer and more supple than any palm tree, my magnificent body barely covered in a brightly patterned sarong. Your teensy pricks spring erect when you comprehend how truly incredible the breasts straining at that sarong must be, how deep that cleavage you worship so. Worship is right, for I am a Jungle Goddess.

But then your lustful half drunken worship turns to fear. I step onto the beach carelessly and barely miss catching two of you under my huge toes. It would be so easy to squish you and I don't seem to care if I do.

You begin to run as I herd you with great sweeps of my hands, sending showers of sand like desert windstorms to torment you. And the one who stared most, I pluck up between my large fingertips with their long deadly nails and drop him into the unfathomable depth of my cleavage. He kicks his itty bitty legs and struggles and I laugh, a booming laugh that hurts your ears and sends you fleeing once more.

Will I smother him in the softness of my zepplin-like tits? Will I chase you, in earth shaking strides, and stomp you all like so many grapes? Or will I catch you all and make pets to bring back to my sisters? You thought you found safety, but there is no safety here for puny little insect men. For this is GIANTESS ISLAND!

For your own adventure on the island, call GIANTESS GRETCHEN. This blonde bombshell of a Giantess will test your imagination and drive you wild.

Giantess Kendall: 877-496-0255 2.50 per minute, billed to your credit card

Lush tropical raintree forests, waterfalls and palm trees swaying in the breeze.. welcome to my island. it is no accident that you are here.

You might have felt the earth tremor as I take my afternoon strolls through the treetops...the earth shaking with each step of my feet smashing anything that gets in my way. I am a Giantess and I live here with my two sisters.

We often meet in the evenings at the top of the volcano and talk about who we captured and make plans for our next adventure. So many men have come to the Island and they all are captured. I have had fun picking up cars and shaking little men out, stomping through Giantess City causing the concrete to break under my feet and walking through the forest while you hear the trees fall under my crushing heels.

I like to play with my little prisoners and make them do entertaining things for Me. You will never escape from Me and their is no good hiding place for you here.

If you have any special GTS fantasies please let me know at the start of your call. I am imaginative and creative and enjoy any Giantess/Squish/Stomp/Destroy fantasy calls. Welcome to Giantess Island.

Giantess Nancy: 877-496-0255 2.50 per minute, billed to your credit card Tremble in fear boys!

I'm Nancy, the 50 ft tall goddess that's about to crush you under her pretty stiletto... (that is, if you're lucky).

Now don't get me wrong, I wasn't always such a mean and nasty girl; I was actually rather sweet before my sisters and I had our little "accident".

However, now for some reason even my teensiest little temper tantrum can fuck with the richter scale - whoopsie, perhaps it's not too smart to piss off a woman that's well, almost 10 times your size.

Of course, I don't completely hate you little, skittering men beneath my heels. Sometimes you tiny men can be good for well, certain things. Remember, I'm still a woman, and I still love to cuddle, even if it's at the expense of you. And believe me, I luuuuv to be pampered- whether it takes an army of slaves to do it or not!

Well, anyway, until I find my 50 ft dream man, you little ants are all I've got - and you really have no choice in the matter now, do you?

So be good little insects, worship me like a Goddess and do whatever I tell you, or I might get angry... and we both know what happens when I get angry.