Innocent Musings Over Brunch by ArtimusG
Summary:

In this sequel to "Innocent Musings Over Breakfast", the tiny parents find themselves in the midst of a much bigger meal, and a much hungrier daughter.


Categories: Giantess, Couples , Instant Size Change, Mouth Play, Unaware Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: None
Size Roles: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: Innocent Musings Over Meals
Chapters: 3 Completed: No Word count: 4978 Read: 24264 Published: November 22 2011 Updated: April 30 2012
Story Notes:

As usual, there will be more tags to this story, like 'Feet' and possible 'vore' or 'body adventure', but until the story actually reflects those, I won't be adding them to the description.  Don't worry, I'll still be adding to the other stories. :)

1. Chapter 1 by ArtimusG

2. Chapter 2 by ArtimusG

3. Chapter 3 by ArtimusG

Chapter 1 by ArtimusG
Author's Notes:

I enjoyed writing 'Innocent Musings Over Breakfast' so much that I couldn't help but write a second, which made me decide to turn it into a series.  'Innocent Musings Over Meals' is the title of this series.  I made the decision after writing this sequel, so please excuse the lack of the word 'Brunch' throughout the chapter.  Please enjoy, rate, and review as always!

End Notes:

Thanks for reading!  Your comments, suggestions, ratings, and reviews are appreciated. 

Chapter 2 by ArtimusG
Author's Notes:

Hopefully I was able to throw at least a few plot twists in this story, to keep you guessing.  If not, well, enjoy anyway.

 

The swamp-like grits hardly made for easy movement across Lacey’s plate while she was in another room, checking the relationship status of her latest boy-crush.  The temperature of the recently prepared breakfast items didn’t help either, Frank and Anita felt their bare feet beginning to burn, though the food had cooled a bit after being served.  While Frank hadn’t considered this, Anita knew that having blistered, burned feet would hinder their progress pretty quickly.

“Come on Frank, come on, we have to hurry!”  Frank, the older of the couple, had the beginnings of arthritis in his joints, and the strenuous exercise he was putting them through was beginning to make those joints flare up.  Anita, on the other hand, had been an athlete all through college, and even occasionally played sports with Lacey’s friends just to help even the teams when necessary.  Unfortunately, the silk gown that she wore slowed her.  Sure, it could have been tossed to the side, but her nudity would ultimately be a distraction for her husband, who may think a quickie behind the saltshaker may spice up their sex life.

 

As they neared the very edge of that soupy breakfast side dish, they saw that the edges had begun to cool more quickly than the middle, which gave their numb feet a little break.  However, as it cooled, it also thickened, changing from a soup-texture, to a paste-texture, and their progress had all but slowed to a halt.

“Anita, keep going…Lacey might come back any second now, and we’re still in her…” Frank’s motivational words were cut off by the light sound of footsteps in the distance.  The only stayed light for a moment, before Lacey turned the corner back into the kitchen.  Still on the phone with her friend Tori, she had changed into a spaghetti-strap black tank top with a bra underneath, and a pair of long, slim, black and pink sweat pants.  That shoulder-length golden hair was pulled into a ponytail, as well.

“…do you think I should call him?”  The blue-eyed blonde bombshell asked her friend, walking over to the table where her plate was.  She glanced over it idly for a moment before reaching down for her spoon.  After receiving an affirmative answer from Tori, she grinned nervously, set the phone on speaker, and placed it on the table, next to her plate.  “I guess I could try…”

 

The tiny parents on her plate were nearly paralyzed with fear.  Earlier they had been on the plate, but not in Lacey’s food.  If they were climbing on anything that Lacey picked up, they could simply jump off.  Now, they were nearly buried in the pile of buttery grits, and the phone distracted Lacey from paying more attention.  She wouldn’t even be looking at what she ate now.  As their titanic daughter placed the phone less than an inch away from the edge of the plate her parents were trying to escape, Frank got an idea.

“If we can get to Lacey’s cell phone, maybe whomever she’s talking to will hear us, if we stand right next to the microphone?  Or even better, maybe Lacey will notice us?”

“Fine, fine, but can we focus on not getting eaten, first?”  Anita’s words came back with venom, a side of Anita Frank hadn’t seen since he missed an anniversary.  Not wanting to start an argument, or really do anything but survive to see another day, Frank bit his tongue and kept up his pace as best he could.  With the grits cooling further, progress was slower than ever.   Inevitably, Lacey, still standing over her plate, reached down and picked it up, balancing it in one hand, while the other held her spoon.  Sighing a bit, she idly began stirring her grits.  The thicker, gooey skin that formed on top of the grits when they were cooling looked too weird to eat without stirring away.

That plate hand moved so quickly into the air that the tiny parents trapped on it would have likely been tossed right off it, onto the floor, were they not stuck fast in place.  Soon, they were much higher than previously, and now had an unobstructed view of Lacey’s perky young breasts.  She was by no means a large chested woman, but her B-Cups were nothing short of mountainous to the tiny people in her food.  Undeterred, they kept pushing forward, adjusting their goal from the cell phone, to Lacey’s thumb, which was balancing the edge of the plate, while her fingers supported it from below.

 

This new effort didn’t last long though, soon enough they heard the crash of that terrible spoon into the plate, followed by the sound of it scraping across the flat terrain, right towards their swampy prison! 

“Anita!  Watch out!”  Frank screamed to his wife, who was standing immediately next to him.  This was all but pointless however, though it seemed like there were enough grits in this serving for a thousand people to have several bowls, it was on a small few spoonfuls for the hungry, unwitting antagonist of the story.  A single sweep through had the tiny couple tumbling over each other and covered entirely.

 

The spoon itself was a sight to behold, easily the size of a football stadium.  Had it been motionless, they could have seen their reflection in the metal utensil.  At such a small height, they’d have even been able to make out the imperfections in the surface, cracks, spots, blemishes and many other things that a normal sized human would never catch without a microscope. 

“Yeah, maybe he’ll even…I don’t know, have dinner with me tonight?”  Lacey was already blushing at the thought of walking in a restaurant hand-in-hand with such a studly gentleman as Mike.  Grinning a little more, she stopped stirring the grits.  With an uncaring flip of the wrist, she scooped up half of a spoonful of the warm substance and lifted it to her lips.

With so little on her plate, it was virtually impossible for her to miss capturing her parents along with it.  For the shrunken adults, still buried and unable to see a thing, it was hard to assume anything but what they had feared had happened.  Frank was the first to break the surface; gasping for breath and wiping his face clean with his hands, before opening his eyes.  He opened them just in time to see the end of the ascent to Lacey’s face.  The color ran out of his face, and he could barely stay conscious enough to realize that Anita hadn’t come up yet.

“Anita, baby, where are you?!”  Panicking, he was able to tear his eyes away from the lower half of Lacey’s face to begin digging through the grits to find his wife before she suffocated.  “Anita, we gotta get her attention, she’s going to eat us!” 

Anita didn’t answer.  Despite his efforts, he could not find Anita’s body, dead or alive, within a few feet of him.  “Anita!”  He screamed again, tears beginning to well up in his eyes.  His eyes turned back towards Lacey, who had the spoon level with those soft, pink lips of hers now.  He was torn between being angry and being incredibly sorrowful at the situation, it wasn’t Lacey’s fault that her parents had ended up in her breakfast, was it?  She couldn’t be held responsible for their death, even if it was her who would carry it out.

As Frank stared in anticipation at his daughter pouty lips, he heard a soft inhale above him.  His eyes shot up, realizing that he was standing directly under her nose.  That slender, perfect nose she had gotten from her mother was now large enough to inhale a city worth of people, and leave them trapped in her nostrils or all of their lives.  His hair, barely long enough to reach his ears, tossed a bit in the breeze her inhaling had created.  The cool updraft contrasted heavily with the warmth of the grits he was in, giving him a few goose bumps, and he turned away, realizing it was probably the last time he’d ever see his daughter’s face, or some of it, again. 

As the moment of serenity passed, Frank heard the sound of Lacey’s lips parting, a sound most wouldn’t hear.  The moisture that resided on those bouncy lips was more than enough to send a tiny crackling sound through the air.  It caught the father’s attention, just in time to see that dark, powerful chasm between his daughters open.  This was it.  All the times they’d he’d fed Lacey as a baby, and now he was being fed to her.

Briefly he saw the very tips of her teeth, but before he could even really register how large they were, her lips contorted, shifting into an odd shape…an ‘O’ shape..?  Her lips were puckered.  That could only mean…

“GAHHH!  ANITA!”  Frank screamed once again, feeling the first signs of his voice going hoarse.  Lacey’s inhale was not for the sake of oxygen, she was blowing on the spoon!  The grits on that spoon hardly stood a chance, and began rolling backwards on the spoon, lower layers being revealed.  Frank, too, tumbled backwards in his daughter’s powerful, less than fresh breath.  As he fell onto his butt and began to roll, he caught something out of the corner of his eye.

 

A hand, right at the edge of the spoon.

Anita had been buried far deeper than Frank with Lacey’s spoonful, and her breath had revealed the poor woman’s body.  As the torrent of wind came to an end, Frank crawled on all fours towards the woman, just in time to notice Anita’s leg hanging over the edge of the spoon.

“Don’t worry baby, I got you!”  Standing again, one buttery hand grabbed and pulled Anita’s upper torso back to the surface, where Anita took a gasping breath.  Grinning, Frank tried to pull her farther onto the spoon again.  “Its not too late, we can survive this!”  Frank kept pulling, until he thought he had her safe.  Anita, trying to slip her leg back over the edge, groaned and swung her leg over with all her might, trying to swing some of those thick grits in the process. 

The result of this process was a kick to Frank’s knee, who was already sore, and doubled over in pain, tripping over his wife’s body, and tumbling right off of the edge of that spoon, and falling what must have been miles for the poor father, back to the plate. 

Anita, dumbfound at her action, stood there peering over the edge, still resting on her stomach, until Frank’s body was too far to see.

“Frank…” she whimpered.  There was no time to mourn.  Anita felt that spoon shake once again, and turned over to face her daughter’s parting lips for the first time. 

 

After a quick breath, Lacey blew lightly on her spoon, to ensure the grits wouldn’t burn the roof of her mouth.  After the small mouthful was sufficiently cool, she placed the spoon in her mouth, savoring the buttery goodness, and pulled it out clean.  Another glance to her plate then, surveying what she would sample next.

 

End Notes:

Please tell me what you think!  We're getting to the good part now.  I could really use as much input on this story as possible, as is the case with all of my writing. 

Also, after finishing this story, I will never type the word 'grits' again. >/ 

Chapter 3 by ArtimusG
Author's Notes:

More of what you've come to see from me, I hope you enjoy. :)

Splash. 

Frank thought he’d be opening his eyes to see something much more heavenly than the surroundings he found himself in.  In fact, he hadn’t expected to ever open his eyes again, under his own power. 

Needless to say, when he finally managed to pull his eyelids apart again, the sense of relief he felt at surviving the terrible fall was short-lived, at best.  All around him was a colorful mountain range of various colors, and he himself was sitting at the base of a very yellow, pineapple scented foothill.  He’d landed in Lacey’s fruit salad.

The next thing he noticed was the chill from ice-cold fruit syrup that pooled the bottom of the ‘small’ serving dish’ he was now trapped in.  Not only was it cold, but it was sticky, and a strange orange color, the result of both pineapple and strawberry juice combining.  There were also grapes, mandarin oranges, and freshly sliced banana pieces.  Frank had really outdone himself with this meal.  Fitting, he thought, since this meal would likely be his undoing.

It had hardly been a few seconds later, when he remembered…Anita!  She was still trapped on that spoon that only moments ago was carrying both of them to an untimely death in their daughter’s mouth.  Now, it only carried his wife.  His gaze shot up to Lacey’s face, just in time to see her pulling that metal spoon from her lips.  Immediately after, Frank watched her whole jaw shift just enough to begin the chewing process behind those naturally soft, pink lips.  Realizing that Anita was left to fend for herself inside Lacey’s mouth, Frank nearly lost his will to continue.  Every gentle chew that the goddess of a 19-year-old made had Frank shudder, wondering which tooth, which chew would crush his beloved wife.  Would Lacey even notice? 

 

Finally, he watched a final chew; it hadn’t taken much to grind the soup-like grits to pulp.  With only slight hesitation, Lacey lifted her tongue to the roof of her mouth, pushing the contents with her tongue back to the precipice of her throat, and swallowed.  Frank’s skin flushed pale, watching Lacey’s throat muscles reacting, and pushing her latest mouthful down her long, powerful esophagus.  Down below, her father could just barely make out the tiny lump that rolled down her throat, until it disappeared behind her modest breasts.

He wasn’t given time to accept the gravity of it all though, he was stirred from his nightmare with a jolt, a loud metallic clashing somewhere behind him.  He was too busy watching he majestic, powerful vision of his daughter eating to notice that she had dropped her spoon on the plate behind him, still holding the plate with her other hand suspended in the air.  In the background, Frank could hear the droning sound of the person on Lacey’s speaker phone going on about something that apparently wasn’t important enough for Lacey to stop eating. 

Confused at why she might have put down the spoon, and hopeful that it was a sign of the end of this terrible meal, Frank looked up at Lacey again.

 

Instead of seeing his daughter’s sleepy, blue eyes, he instead was greeted with the rippled contours of her finger, as her hand came down to snatch up a piece of fruit from the miniature serving dish sitting on the plate.  There was no point in trying to run, the syrup was entirely too thick and deep to try to wade through to avoid Lacey’s enormous thumb and forefinger.

 

He watched that forefinger swing over his head, behind him, then turned back around to see her thumb crashing into the lake of fruit syrup he was stuck in.  The thumb was easily large enough to crush a house, but had missed him by several yards.  Gasping, he looked up again, only to see the palm of Lacey’s hand lording over him as if it had become the sky itself.

Looking back to her thumb, he was greeted by not only a very detailed view of the circular detail of her thumbprint, but a powerful wave of fruit juice.  Lacey’s thumb moved forward to grasp hold of whatever fruit was behind him, and send that wave hurdling his way.  Again, with no real way to defend himself, the wave caught hold of him, tossing him backwards, to land against a sticky, yellow wall.  Specifically, the over-sized chunk of pineapple Lacey happened to grabbed.

Frank’s most pressing fear was simply not being crushed by Lacey’s thumb when it pinched that huge piece of fruit.  He didn’t wait long for an answer there, that thumb slammed scale inches from Frank’s tiny body, shaking the fruit enough that he fell a feet downward, getting wedged between fruit and flesh.

The next few seconds were a blur of color, not unlike what Frank had seen on the spoon.  Lacey was simply lifting the fruit up to her lips, and giving her father yet another nearly unobstructed view of her mouth, which was slightly open, revealing the tips of both upper and lower incisors. 

Frank braced for impact as the entire vessel that he held so tightly to was brought towards her daughter pouty pink lips, her mouth widening with every passing inch that he got closer to them.  He felt that same warm, oppressive breath passing over him, coming from deep inside her lungs.  In the distance, beyond her teeth, he could see the inky darkness that his wife had been banished into minutes ago.  Somewhere deep inside that powerful maw of destruction was his wife, either struggling to swim in the powerful current of Lacey’s digestive fluids, or already chewed to death.

 

Now it was his turn.

 

The very edge of that pineapple finally crossed the threshold of Lacey’s mouth, her jaw wide enough now to begin the process of tearing a chunk out of that large, even for the hungry blonde herself, piece of fruit.  Still nearly powerless thanks to that sticky syrup, and Lacey’s thumb-flesh, Frank was given a front row seat to the destructive power of those bright white teeth.  He was so close to those teeth, in fact, that looking directly above him, he could see that Lacey’s upper lip was waiting immediately above his head.  Should she close her mouth around the fruit, he’d likely be crushed under the weight of her upper lip alone. 

 

More menacing than that was the awful sound of the fruit being torn in two pieces.  At times it sounded like several trees being knocked ripped from their roots, and in other instances, it sound was more like the sound of hundreds of gallons of liquid crashing against something very hard, and exploding.  A cacophony of noise that Frank would never forget the rest of his life, no matter how short lived it was.

His attention turned back towards those powerful incisors that were ripping through the last bit of the fruit.  Watching in horror and amazement, Frank could see that the deeper her teeth went into the fruit, the more of her teeth, and eventually her gum-line, was exposed behind her lips.  He was going to look away again, and start screaming at her for help, when he caught some motion out of the corner of his eye.  Following it, he saw what could only be a tiny, shrunken woman, clinging for her life against Lacey’s gum line.  Anita hadn’t been chewed or swallowed!

As the final instances of the bite came to a close, Frank screamed at Anita, who immediately looked down at her husband, and screamed back at him.  They were only giving the chance to speak each other’s names, before Lacey finally tore a healthy chunk of pineapple away from the larger piece, still holding Frank.  Content with this new mouthful, Lacey’s lips closed back around, sealing Anita in darkness again. 

 

Frank, unsure of which emotion was most prevalent, knew only one thing; that his wife was alive, and he had to save her from his daughter’s mouth.

 

Lacey, on the other hand, continued to listen to her friend’s rants about some guy, while chewing her next bite, and dipping the pieces of pineapple she held back into the fruit juice, stirring it around some to prepare for a second mouthful.

 

End Notes:

Rate and review please!

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