It was the Princess’s birthday. She was spoilded and pampered. She was showered with gifts everyday so her father the King had to find very special gifts for her. For her 21st birthday he knew he’d out done himself.
He took his daugher out to an island, one he’d had custom made for her. It was a living doll house. She could walk around, hold the people in her hands, rearrange the buildings. It was all for her. This Miniture country. This island that was self sustaining for the little people that lived there.
Her big green eyes danced with merriment as she beheld her own island. An Island where she would be a Giant Goddess to these people. They would worship her pale ivory body, her dark, fiery hair, the delicate carriage of her long fingered, well manicured hands, her petite, soft well pedicured feet. The would worship and honor her or fear her wrath…
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