Chapter 1

I was awake, I think it was all the noise.

There was a lot of noise, there were strangers in the house, I wanted to know why they had to make so much noise, but the slowly dissipating pain of having had my chest crushed, almost as though I had been run over by a bus, was at that moment more important. What was going on around me was beginning to make its presence known to my consciousness.

I was lying on my back, on a very rough but springy surface, I imagined a carpet but several times the normal size. My arms were spread out in a cross shape, while my left leg seemed to be turned back in an unnatural angle. None of this made any sense.

I looked up, and up, and up. Why did the ceiling seem so incredibly far away? I recognised the ceiling, the patterns, but ... oh-oh, the walls were also an improbable distance from where I lay.

I was still finding it difficult to move my body, but my head was able to move, a little. I saw something amazing, these bare feet, a little dirty, as though someone was walking barefoot, but not on a regular basis, because I could also see that the heels, pointing towards the ceiling were a bit dried and there was cracking, but the rest of the foot looked soft. But what stood out the most was the fact that this foot looked like it might be almost as big as me. ‘Giants, they do exist!!!’

“Oh, thank god, you’re here,” I heard the booming voice of my sister.

I thought, ‘there is no reason to shout!’ And then I saw it, a wheel that looked big enough to be on a truck, but the rest of the contraption resembled the kind of paramedic’s gurney you see on TV. And then the shoe, I recognised the shoe for what it was, but ... I realised that that shoe must have been bigger than me.

“Hey, don’t stand on that,” another booming female voice, as a hand also proportionately much too large came down and scooped me up. She straightened out my arms and legs and put me in a seated position on top of a coffee table, again, far too large, but I recognised it, my back against a book, a typical coffee table book, I think that I had even picked it up, once or twice, without ever actually having read it. I wondered if she had seen my erection, as soon as she picked me up, I was ready.

But she didn’t even blink.

I looked into a face full of concern, she looked to be about late-twenties, early-thirties, brownish green eyes, ‘isn’t that hazel?’ I thought; full lips, but almost no makeup. Well, if she is a paramedic on duty, then she probably wouldn’t, even if she was allowed to. Her eyelashes seemed quite long, and her eyebrows were a slightly darker shade of mousy-blonde than her hair.

She turned away, and apart from being at least six, maybe more times larger than normal, she had what I thought to be a reasonably good-looking body. I was in reverse-Lilliput.

I watched as they turned the body lying on the floor over. The nose looked to be broken and a little mangled, there was still some bleeding, bruising all over the forehead, “damn, that looks like me. Fuck am I dead, and watching the last of my life slip away, but no ... there is still bleeding, so I’m not dead, but then... ?” there was still a broken mug handle in the one hand, and other detritus under the body.

The female paramedic and her male colleague got me onto the gurney, I heard my sister saying, “not my husband, my brother, I think he stepped on my son’s Lego pieces or my daughter’s Barbie doll and tripped.

The female paramedic squatted down and picked something off of the floor, and put a Barbie doll seated next to me, “I know he’s not Ken, he’s GI Joe, but you can keep him company,” I heard her say, as Barbie’s hand was put into mine, but she nudged us as she moved, probably accidentally, so that my hand was in between Barbie’s legs, and her hand was on my crotch.

I heard the squeaking wheel of the gurney, as it was manoeuvred through the doorway, and the room was empty ... except for, “fuck off, pervert. How dare she? If I could, I would give her a piece of my mind,” the now-conscious, awake Barbie Doll/girl sitting next to me was saying. “KEN, Ken, where the hell are you, when I need you?”

I looked over at Barbie, she looked less plastic, in fact a lot more human, she still resembled one of those Russian or Ukrainian models who had had the Barbie plastic surgery done, although this one looked even more natural, the neck wasn’t out of proportion, and her hourglass figure, well, I couldn’t really see, she was sitting down, but she had a pair of orange-sized tits. I watched as her nipples... “damn, you’re naked, fucking nice, I mean I’m not complaining,” I looked downwards, to where my hands were telling me ‘no bush, also no stubble, nice and smooth.’ And unused? No bruising or discolouration of any kind. It looked as though Ken didn’t do the deed very often, if at all.

“Fuck off, pervert, but I already told you that!” she said, while the blush spread across her face and down to her still young pair of tits.

“Well then, howsabouts you stop stroking?”

She snatched her hand away, “ohmigod, I didn’t realise,” and I gave her clit a last tickle, before moving my hand. I noticed her unconsciously lick her hand, I had probably gotten some precum on there, and then, “KEN, KEN, where the FUCK are you?” she shouted in my ear.

I heard a whining sound, ‘fuck is that an electric motor?’ And then Ken drove up in Barbie’s pink mini, his arms up in the ‘oh, shit I’m drowning!’ salute. Well, he’s male, he wouldn’t be doing the ‘shake what your momma gave you’ dance, at least I hope not!

Barbie said, “Ken, stop fart-arsing about, come and help me get away from Joe, you weren’t even here to defend my honour.”

Ken lowered his arms, I was wondering how he had been driving, and got out of the car, he didn’t hop out over the door, but opened the door and climbed out. He shook his head, a subtle movement, but enough to bring attention to his hair, and how ‘good’ it looked.

He opened his mouth, and I fell over laughing, I had to clutch my chest, there was still some residual pain there. Barbie looked at me, in disgust.

Ken tried again, he sounded a bit like Marty McFly in the first movie, a bumbling, low self-esteem beta male, “yes, m ... my one t ... true l ... love, what c ... can I ... I d ... d ... do for you?” he stammered, “a ... and wh ... who d ... d ... do you th ... think you a ... are t ... to l ... laugh at m ... me?”

I had stood up, and Ken stared at me, “oh m ... my gosh!” he said as the blush spread across his face.

I looked down, the boner that Barbie had given me was still prominent, and it hit me. My niece might have still been too young and hadn’t yet started putting Ken and Barbie into that kind of position, and he still wasn’t certain of his place in the world. And ... I wasn’t even going to help him, hell, I wanted Barbie for myself.

While this was all happening, I thought, ‘if Barbie doesn’t stop soon, she is going to stamp her foot through the coffee table.’ We heard noises, Ken returned to where he had come from, and Barbie and I both sat down in the same positions as before, as the door opened, and my sister walked in. she went to the corner of the room and pulled out one of those plastic wheelie crates, and started picking up Lego pieces and tossing them in the crate.

There was a crushed and bent train car, ‘damn, why the hell do adults always give their prized belongings to the younger generation?’ that car and the whole train set, was at least three, no ... four times the age of my nephew, and if it hadn’t been me who stood on that car now, then it had already been damaged. It was enough to get me really pissed off.

“Oh, there’s Ken,” I heard her say, and she picked the car up and put it in the crate. Ken, she put on the double bed in Barbie’s house, I still remembered constructing that from old building materials, even having used acetate sheets for the windows. But it was proportionately sized for the dolls, there was only the one bedroom, a very feminine bedroom, a complete kitchen with built-in cupboards and all the appliances, a furnished lounge with flat-screen TV and cable, and a full bathroom with stand-alone glass shower cubicle. Did Barbie need anything else?