Penny’s slender legs had taken her only a couple of miles closer to L.A. when she saw another tractor-trailer truck coming her way.  She reached down and picked it up by the cab, this time letting the trailer dangle off the back.  Unfortunately, the trailer’s rear doors were not as tightly closed as they might have been, because they swung open, spilling a whole load of somebody’s furniture and boxes onto the pavement.  Penny thought all the doll furniture was cute, especially the little dining room set.  Still holding the truck in her left hand, she used her other hand to set up the tiny table and chairs, right there in the middle of I-15 Southbound.

Clearly, the dining room set needed diners.  Turning back to the truck, Penny stuck her fingers through the windshield and peeled the roof off the cab.  Inside there were three people – two men and a woman.  Since when do women drive trucks, she wondered?  No matter, she set the truck back down on the ground and pulled the three out with one hand.  Then she lifted each victim out of her hand, and placed it one by one in its own chair.  This was just like playing with Barbie dolls, except that the dolls kept getting up and trying to run away.  She always picked them up by their shirts and put them back in place, but they wouldn’t stay there.

Realizing that drastic measures were in order, Penny put one of the men back in his chair and then pressed his feet down to the ground with her thumb, as if she were setting a piece of tape in place.  The man screamed, then slumped in the chair and stayed there.  Satisfied, she did the same with the other two truckers.

She stood up and admired her handiwork.  “There,” she said out loud. 

Suddenly remembering that she was looking for the fat truck driver that tried to do bad things to her, Penny took another close look at these three.  No, none of them looked like the bad man.  She turned and continued walking along the Interstate, now with single-minded purpose – completely forgetting about the three dead people she left sitting at a dining room table on a highway in the desert. 

Every time she encountered another semi, she would do something to it.  She always peeled the roof off and pulled the drivers out to see who they were (none of them were ever the right man), and then she would somehow destroy the truck.  A couple of times she simply stamped on it with her bare foot, flattening it, and a few times she twisted the cab away from its trailer and crushed them both, one in each hand.  Once she even put the whole truck between her breasts and squeezed them together, until the wood and metal splintered and bent into an unrecognizable wad.  She also had fun with the drivers.  She would capture them with two fingers under their arms, and then slowly lower them to the ground – almost, but not quite.  She thought it was funny how their legs would make running motions as they got closer to the ground, and then stop when she lifted them away.

But eventually, this game taxed Penny’s rather limited attention span, and she tired of it.  In fact, she was beginning to feel tired all over, and hungry as well.  She wondered what in the world she would eat that was big enough for her.  She imagined a whole crew of kids at MacDonalds serving her one mammoth cheeseburger.  Giggling, she stopped to rest. 

Since there was no suitable bench to sit on, Penny just sat her bum down on the ground, her knees arching over the highway, her heels resting well beyond the other side.  There was lots of activity on the interstate at this point – cars and trucks going every which way, driving on the wrong side of the road, driving forward, driving backward, honking and hitting each other – but Penny was oblivious to it all.  It simply didn’t matter to her.  And it didn’t matter to her either, that she was still stark naked, her pussy clearly visible to all those below.  Why should she care?  They were ants, down there.  Would she care if an ant saw her vagina?

No, what Penny was concerned about just then was how she was going to get food.  She wondered whether she should eat a cow, or a goat, and whether that would even satisfy her.  And how would she get the bones out?  And would it matter if the animal wasn’t cooked?  Could you eat animals that weren’t cooked?  Or animals that weren’t dead? 

As she pondered these questions, Penny turned and laid down on her side, along the highway, resting her head on her forearm.  Her gargantuan breasts sat atop one another, with their nipples just hanging over the breakdown lane.  The one or two cars which were brave enough to drive past her were treated to a spectacular sight.  First there were huge red manicured toenails (only a little chipped and faded) on suntanned feet and ankles, followed by a pair of legs so long that they seemed they would never end.  But they did end, coming together on smooth-skinned thighs to Penny’s tangled black bush (or perhaps we should call it a forest), and to the glistening pink folds of her vagina.  A person could get lost in that dense forest, or find himself completely engulfed by her cunt.

Higher up, Penny’s body spread to her rounded hips, which were several stories high, and then back down to a relatively narrow waste and a washboard stomach – with an inward-turned navel big enough to put your fist into.

Penny’s beautiful stomach led next to a pair of huge, magnificent breasts, which appeared so smooth, soft and squeezable that they caused their beholders to cum instantly.  But they were dangerously heavy, each one weighing a good deal more than a 4-bedroom house.

Beyond Penny’s boobs receded at the top of her cavernous cleavage to reveal a very long neck and a delicate jawline (if 20-ton jawbones can be called delicate), wet, heart-shaped lips, and a tiny upturned nose (relatively speaking).  Her cheeks were narrow, her eyes big and brown.  And flowing down from her head, resting lazily on her shoulder and upper arm, and laying haphazardly across her bulbous breasts, was a thick mass of luxurious black hair.

Idly, Penny picked up an intercity bus that was trying to get away, and started rolling it back and forth on the pavement.  “Vrrrrrmmm vrrrrrmmm”, she said, imitating her little brother.  For grins, she lifted her top boob, slid the bus underneath, and then allowed the huge mound of flesh to slap closed.  The bus, of course, didn’t stand a chance.  Penny opened up her crusher again and flicked the squashed vehicle out and across the highway. 

Forgetting about her predicament, Penny picked up other cars and trucks and stuffed them into her cleavage, squashing them.  Then she wrapped a strand of her hair around a small sportscar and pulled it tight, slicing it in half.  She found she really enjoyed being so much bigger and stronger than anything these regular people thought of as big.  She was the absolute and complete master of everything around her.  To make the point, she gathered together a bunch of cars and trucks and squished them into an unrecognizable ball of steel.  Then she slammed the ball down on the road, flattening its underside.  It looked kind of like a paperweight, thought Penny.

It was only a matter of time, though, before the police showed up.  They came from both directions, two Mustangs on each side, with flashing blue and red lights and wailing sirens.  They met just about in front of Penny’s nose, stopped, and shut off their noise.  Penny thought it was a good thing that they did that, because the noise was bothering her and she didn’t have to let anything bother her anymore.

All the cops got out, but most of them stayed behind their cars, with guns drawn.  As if either the cars or the guns could protect them from her! thought Penny.  One cop climbed on top of his car and pointed a megaphone up toward her.  “This is the California Highway Patrol.  Who are you and what do you want?”

Penny listened suspiciously.  She generally didn’t like cops, ever since they had refused to listen to her date-rape complaint last year.  They said at the time that she had asked for it by dressing in teeny hotpants and a tank top.  Really!  So what if her generous boobs had bounced out once or twice from the loose material – guys are supposed to behave themselves!  She couldn’t be responsible for their uncontrollable hormones, could she?

Returning to the present, Penny decided she would play along with these cops as long as it suited her.  Obviously she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to do, but maybe these guys needed to be reminded of that.  She reached down and picked up the cop using two fingers under his arms – his megaphone went flying – and held him in front of her face.  “My name is Penny, and I’m hungry.  It’s time for my lunch.”

The cop didn’t respond in any way that Penny could understand.  He just said “Aaaarrrrrrrgggg”, and she thought he was trying to push himself away from her fingers.  Then he suddenly stopped struggling and managed to draw his tiny gun out from the holster at his waist.  Penny threw her head back and laughed, the thought of such a tiny bullet hitting her skin being inexplicably hilarious to her.  The man might have said something, she wasn’t sure, but pretty soon he began firing at her fingers.  There was no way the bullets could penetrate her thick hide, so they simply bounced off.  Getting no result, he aimed a shot at one of Penny’s eyes.  She blinked instinctively, and the bullet bounced harmlessly off her eyelid. 

Penny didn’t know whether whatever skin covered one’s eyes would be proof against a bullet, though, and she didn’t want to take that kind of chance.  So she squished the policeman and threw his body over her shoulder, wiping her gory fingers in the dirt.  Then all the cops started firing at her with rifles and sidearms.  She noticed that several of them had chosen to target her huge nipples, but she really couldn’t feel the impacts.

Deciding she’d had enough of this game, Penny made a fist and slammed one side of it down on a squad car.  The whole car crumpled inward on itself, throwing broken glass and tires outward, murdering those it was meant to protect.  The remaining cops stopped shooting; some turned to run, others jumped into their cars and started to drive away.  Penny let the runners go, and concentrated on the three escaping vehicles.  She grabbed two which were headed in opposite directions, one in each hand.  Then, holding each one by its trunk, she turned their headlights toward each other and slammed them together.  The result was equivalent to a head-on collision at 500 miles per hour.  Neither car had any material left forward of its trunk, where her fingers grasped the metal.  And the rear end of each car was also crushed by the strength of her grip.

Penny tossed away the two destroyed hunks of steel and found the last fleeing squad car.  Even though it had gunned its engine, it was still within the reach of her long arm.  She caught it and brought it back in front of her.  Peeling the roof off, she saw that both cops had their bleeding heads leaning against the dashboard.  They were obviously dead already, so she couldn’t have any more fun with them.  She threw the car over her shoulder.  With a sigh, Penny stood up and brushed herself off, and then resumed her stroll toward the hills of L.A.