Logger Encounter

                            Part I

Over the past couple days there's been a logging company doin' some

selective cutting on about 100 acres up the road from me. I stopped to

talk with a foreman from the suprisingly small logging crew as they

were loading their big semi-truck at the end of one day. Most of the

trees were about 3-4 feet in diameter, cut into sections for the semi,

and pulled from the forest to a field for loading.  The rugged foreman

came over, more out of caution to keep me away from the heavy

machinery than for much conversation. I was amazed when he told me

there were only four men doing the job - himself, a guy running a

loader and their traction-puller (used to drag logs out of the

forest), and only TWO men down in the woods. They were turning out

amazing numbers of huge logs - enough to make me almost not believe

him. During the week they were there I'd actually only seen two of the

four man crew. They were both big, bearded, lean muscular men, wearing

tight dirty jeans, massive logger's boots, and usually no shirts (or

dirty tank tops soaked with sweat, stretched by the solid muscle under

them). Even though I didn't pay attention all the time, I couldn't

remember hearing any of the 70+ feet tall trees crashing down, but

there had been lots of rumbling in the woods. Curiosity was getting

the best of me, so later after their 4x4 pickup and a loaded semi

left, I laced-up my big black RedWing Loggers and fired-up the old

Chevy "romper" (4x4 pickup, 6" lift, monster 31" tires) to go check

out what they were doing down in the woods. Again, only thinking I saw

two men leave.

                           Part II

I headed into the woods and quickly found a path they were using to

drag the huge tree-logs out.  It was a hot summer evening. But still

plenty of light for a few hours I thought to myself, as I followed the

heavy puller-tracks across a field and into a wooded area where they

were logging.  It was a little darker under the trees, but the path

was well-cleared and packed-down under the massive tracks of the

puller, so I continued on further. Slowing down a little to look

around, I suddenly realized the constant thumping from the grooves

made by the tracks had changed to rough, irregular, deep hard-packed

ruts in the dirt. It was only several yards further when I recognized

patterns formed by the ruts - I couldn't believe this!! - I was

driving over GIGANTIC Vibram-Lug BOOTPRINTS! I shut-down and jumped

out, awed at what I saw - they were colossal! Over 20 feet in length

and about 7 feet wide! My big Chevy truck easily fit inside an

imprint!! My size 15D boots looked TINY next to these! Then I found a

fresh bunch of "smaller" giant-size bootprints further up the path,

and got so into checking them out I didn't notice a shadow covering me

- until the earth shook as two MASSIVE, dirty-brown RedWing Logger

boots strode heavily into the path ahead, then slammed down into a

wide stance facing me.  I reeled and fell back from their impacts,

then gazed up at one well-muscled, sweaty, shirtless, bluejeaned,

goateed (mid-20's), rugged GIANT!!  The Vibram-lug soles of his

AWESOME, immensely-sized, well-used RedWings were over 5-feet long!

He stood proud, at least 4-times my 6'5" height, loosely flexing his

rippling arms, shoulders and chest as an already big bulge in his

tight jeans swelled larger, forcing the worn crotch outward.  Looking

down at me with fiery eyes, he growled and stomped one monstrous boot

off to my left.  "Like MY giant bootprints, huh?" he boomed down at

me, "then I bet you'll like MY fuckin GIANT 'WINGS that're makin em!"

as his other ominous logger boot rose over me, hovered there briefly,

then thundered down only inches away from me. I shivered with a

combined turn-on and some fear.  He let out a low laugh, sizing me

with his boot.  Not moving his foot, he slowly knelt down on his right

knee, guarding my exit with a mammoth hand, his beefy ripped huge body

moving closer and the low muffled sounds of thick boot-leather

bending.  Still sizing me with his massive left loggerboot, he snarled

"fuckin GIANT MAN-FEET... look at the SIZE of these BOOTS man!!

WoahYEAH I'm FUCKING BIG!!!" I just sat, looking at him in total awe,

turned-on, as he got more and more into his size.  He continued

staring down, reaching up to adjust his crotch, then noticed my

RedWings and smiled.  "I like 'yer taste in boots fucker - now you're

gonna get a taste of mine!" roughly sliding his man-length left boot

into me, knocking my torso onto its steel-toe, and growling a deep

laugh.

                           Part III

From some distance I heard a low, powerful voice quietly through the

trees, "What's goin on, Tim?"  The awesome young logger-stud above me

grumbled "Aw shit!" and slowly loomed to his full height.  His cock

had grown so thick and rock-hard inside the left thigh of his jeans

that it stretched the material profanely about halfway to his knee. He

hefted his HUGE left boot onto a stump - probably to prevent his

inseam from exploding, or attempt to quickly conceal his

over-yard-length manhood.  As I stood a deep voice above me spoke,

directed casually back into the trees, "Hey Jay you got a problem or

somethin?" and before I knew what was happening, the ground began to

quake again under another set of gigantic boots as they approached.

Sounds of snapping timber and small trees falling as they neared was

soon drowned-out by thundering BOOMs as each boot impacted the path

behind me...  louder and heavier than the first giant's were!

I looked up, eyes wide in disbelief... he was an increadibly defined,

thick, massively muscular, heavily-bearded, TOWERING GIGANTIC LOGGER,

about 34 years old, with a filthy ripped tank-top and snug-fitting

faded Wrangler jeans tucked into a HUMONGOUS pair of old dull-black

knee-high Wesco lace-to-toe Jobmaster boots. He was about 4-times the

size of his giant coworker... rising over 25 feet above the trees! His

boot shafts were widely laced over his bulging calves, and were at

least 24 feet tall! Then I noticed the incredible size of his feet and

massive Vibram soles of his boots.  This was the GIANT's GIANT who

made those TITANIC prints! He lifted his Wescos high over the smaller

trees, smashing them down like annoying twigs with each thunderous

stomp of his intimidating boots.  Everything was starting to make

sense how so few men could log so many large trees that fast!

                           Part IV

He slowed his near-rampage pace as he got closer, not noticing me on

the ground behind Tim's great steel-toe RedWing Logger boot. He was

obviously PISSED at Tim, I guess because of his noise and attitude. As

he got closer, Tim waved his large hand and pointed to my truck,

trying to warn the approaching angry GIANT LOGGER-MAN. Even though he

slowed, he continued to lift each outrageous black boot high enough to

clear the "underbrush" of little trees cluttering his path. I watch

one GIGANTIC-beyond-proportion-sized Wesco Jobmaster lift, swinging

into the air with his next mighty stride, thick powerful leg muscles

flexing under his awesome rugged torso, oblivious to the "toy" truck

just ahead in his path. At the last second he looks - the truck hidden

by his unbelieveably long and wide foot, tightly laced in a tremdously

heavy inch-thick-black-leather building-size boot.  The gargantuan

deep-lugged foot-thick sole of his mammoth, colossal boot slams down,

as if in slow motion, followed by the roar of exploding tires,

crushing and tearing of metal, smashing glass and a deep resonating

THUD as the immense-sized boot compressed the truck into the ground,

stomping it completely flat under the weight of his gigantic, massive,

incredibly-powerful muscular body.

Tim was still pointing at the boot when suddenly the raging giant

stopped. The anger on his face changed to seriousness as he realized

what might have just happened. The giant slowly lifted his gargantuan

booted foot, totally oblivious to the weight of my demolished

big-block 4x4 which was mashed deep into the lugged-treads of his

heavy Wesco Jobmaster. He looked at the ground, then lifted his boot

up, catching it with a colossal, rugged hand to look at the

bottom. With his free hand he peeled the mangled wreckage from his 20+

foot long massive Vibram sole. Metal creaked and ripped off big lugs

as the flexing muscles of his shoulders and arms erupted in

mountainous-peaks.  I tried to imagine what he was thinking while he

lifted the smashed truck up to see it closer. He lowered his

amazing-size boot to the ground with a rolling BOOM and just stood

there behind us. I looked at Tim, who had not taken his eyes off the

bigger giant the entire time. I was still dwarfed by Tim's gigantic

RedWing Logger boot, which had not moved. Tim glanced down and caught

me looking at it. The fire returned to his eyes almost as if Tim

suddenly remembered that HE was also a GIANT, and I noticed the still

raging-hard long bulge in his jeans now had a 1-foot round wet-spot at

its end - he was obviously VERY turned-on by all this.  An evil smile

grew on his rugged face, which was enhanced by the 4 o'clock shadow of

a full beard.

                            Part V

Tim slowly reached down and scooped me up in his powerfully-huge right

hand. It was at about this point that I could no longer hold-back, and

blew a big man-load in my jeans as Tim easily lifted me higher, the

sinews of his titanic forearm and the veins of his bulging bicep

standing-out like the cables of a suspension bridge. He looked me

over, saw a wet stain form in my bulging crotch, smiled again and said

"YEAH!" Our attention was quickly diverted back to Tim's giant

coworker as he tore open the cab of my mutilated pickup with his thick

strong hands, sweat drippin like drops of rain from his upper

body. Lifting the remains of the truck close to his face, he peered-in

to the open cab... I guessed he was looking for me.  He stood there a

little longer, his shoulder and arm muscles becoming more pumped as he

looked at the damage inflicted by ONE of his titanic boots.  Then he

looked down at his feet and again at the smashed truck in his immense

hand. Something was happening. Tim mumbled "oh Yeah... SHIT YEAH...

it's finally gettin to him!" as Jay let loose a fierce growl, which

then erupted to a full ROAR.  Tim took several booming steps backward,

with me still held firmly in his hand. It was like all the energy Jay

had built-up by refusing to let himself think past job

responsibilities and "get into" being a giant had suddenly been let

loose.  He flexed and pumped, peaking every ripped-hard muscle in his

body in an incredible display of power. Then his cock tore through a

thinner spot in the crotch of his jeans and kept growing and GROWING -

thicker and longer - ripping a gaping hole in the old material as it

expanded forward, becoming more and more erect as its length kept

increasing, proportioned beyond any man's dream.  The towering giant

looked down and spread apart his building-size boots, lifting them

high and stomping them so hard that nearby trees fall as the earth

shook. Awesome muscles of his forearm ripple and bulge as he closes his

hand on what's left of my 4x4, mashing it into a long crumpled wad of

scrap. His cock was now rock hard and at least 16 feet long, thick and

throbbing with the rush of energy from being an incredibly strong,

massively built, outrageously proportioned, and immensely-booted,

towering, RAGING, GIANT!!! He throws the wad of pickup down hard,

slamming it into the ground about 100 yards behind us. Then the

giantic-size loggerman rips-up a huge tree with his bare hands, roots

and all. Lifting the 75-foot tree over his head, he flexes his upper

body to its max as the trunk begins to bend and crack in his mighty

grip. He roars, slamming his Wescos down, felling dozens of small

trees as if they were toothpicks. With one ultimate flex of his

mammoth chest the tree in his grip snaps in two like a clap of

thunder. He throws each half down and comes rampaging toward Tim and I

with a proud, thunderous, destructive stride. When he got to Tim he

said "I can't control it any more Tim, this's too much size for ANY

man to handle!  I hope you're ready to fill Journeyman's boots!"  I

saw Tim's eyes light up. This was what he was waiting for! Then Jay

saw me in Tim's hand, and grabs Tim's arm with fingers and thumb,

forcing it lower. At 8 feet off the ground Tim let me go and I fell at

the toes of Jay's colossal boots.  Tim yelled up "NO!! You CAN'T!!!"

as the GIANT shoved Tim aside like a doll then towered to his full

height, growled out a deep ROAR, and lifted one nearly 7-yard long,

3-story tall loggerboot.

                           Part VI

I looked up at the incredibly-sized Vibram sole rising into the air

over me, and thought "what a way to go!" as the boot moved forward,

beginning its decent. It was too huge... there was no place I could go

quick enough. I laid back and decided to watch with a sickening sort

of pleasure as the massive lugged sole accelerated toward the earth.

Tim was back on his feet, yelling something like "it'll all be over if

you kill him! NO!! STOP!!!"  That had an immediate effect -- the boot

stopped decent, lifted back up, then swung to the right.  I could see

the giant's eyes burning with insane sexual climax as he stomped his

gigantic Jobmaster a few feet away from me, sending me into the air.

As I picked myself up, huge drops of liquid began to hit the ground

around me. I roll-over, looking up beyond the mighty pillars of boots

and muscled trunks of legs to see both his hands squeezing on his

colossal cock, which was throbbing and trying to pump the gallons of

cum he'd stored up for so long. He was muttering "NO... Can't

Blow!... Want to Stay This Big... grrRRRUUH... I'M SO HUGE!...

ShhiiTT--CAN'T STOP!!... I'M SO FUCKIN' GIANT!!!"  Suddenly the

pressure was too great, and a flood of cum shot into the air like a

firehose as he let go, his hands forming into car-size fists and his

entire awesomely ripped body flexing. He began to wildly stomp and

tear up trees as gallons of cum continued to fountain into the air and

fall on us.  I glanced over my shoulder and saw Tim had picked himself

up and was sitting with his back against a few medium-size trees. The

trees strained with each flex of Tim's powerful torso as he unzipped

and stroked his fully engorged 3-1/2 foot monster.  I was a few feet

from Tim's tremendous RedWings, standing in Jay's bootprint, which

made the toes of Tim's awesome boots stand taller than me. Tim kept

glancing down at me between his boots, then looking at his gigantic,

rampaging co-worker.

Jay headed for the carcass of my truck, and in one final bellowing

roar and an exaggerated thunderous SLAM of one immense GIANT BOOT, he

mashed what was left of the truck at least 6 feet into the ground as

his last flood of giant-juice exploded, arching into the air and

smattering into a field that was over 20 yards away. His chest heaved

as he savored his last minutes of gianthood. From far corners of the

property there came rapid beams of blue light.  Tim growled and

grunted as he blew and pumped wads of his own giant-juice in the air,

splattering on his broad chest, jeans, logger boots, and onto me.  Jay

buckled in pain, frantically digging into both front pants

pockets. Each hand emerged grasping a cloth sack, which were glowing

firey red. The blue light stopped. A few minutes later I felt a strong

hand squeeze my shoulder... it was Tim! He was my height and all his

proportions (well almost all of them, anyway) had returned to "normal

size" for a 6'5" guy. He gave me a grin, and we stood together and

watched as the gigantic-size Jay slowly shrank back to his regular,

but still intimidating, 6'10" height. He was still rock-solid, and I

bet his big boots were way more than size 16's. He fell to the ground

in pain and exhaustion. Tim told me to stay with him while he went to

radio the boss.

As I helped Jay sit up he handed me the two sacks that were still

clenched in his big hands. Saying, "Let's get to camp... Tim and I

gotta talk to you about what ya just saw... keep these away from me

and (glaring right in my eyes) DO NOT put them in your pants pockets,

DO NOT put them together, and DO NOT tell Tim you have 'em or I'll

make you ONE SORRY FUCKER. He stood up, grabbed me with one of his

thickly muscled arms and lifted my boots off the ground as he stood me

up. He was a BIG fucker and it was no wonder he was such an awesome

giant!  His cock was still hanging from a big ripped hole in the

crotch of his jeans, semi-hard. I said to him "Shit man, I'd be nuts

to piss ya off - you're a fuckin GIANT even when 'yer NOT 100 feet

tall!"  Slowly a smile crept onto his darkly-bearded face, and said

"You saw how much I REALLY liked being a giant... keep talkin like

that and yer gonna have a mighty-big friend!" He slapped one heavy

strong hand on my solid shoulder, tucked a now-expanding semihard pole

back into his jeans, and headed for camp. "109 feet 4-inches, by the

way," he bragged, "and one FUCKIN AWESOME GIANT too!" I added.

To be continued...