While her parents noisily made themselves ready, Izzy sat on the bed in her old room; she angrily crossed her legs and pouted as she looked around, looking at all her belongings. Eventually her mother came into the room and kneeled in front of her.

  "Are you coming down, dear? Delilah will be here soon"

  “Why do I need a babysitter? I’m 24. It’s humiliating” Izzy barked, folding her arms and facing away from her mother.

  Izzy’s mother sighs. “You know why… besides it’s the law, I can’t leave you on your own” 

  She waited a moment before holding out her hand to her daughter. Izzy looked up at her mother, her gigantic form still looming over her despite her kneeling. Izzy huffed and climbed into her mother’s large, soft palm. Her mother gently cradled her tiny daughter and took her downstairs.

Izzy watched as her parents finished getting ready. Eventually there was someone at the door and Delilah was invited in, Izzy gave her a glare and she returned with disinterest.

Over the evening, Izzy made a mental list of everything Delilah did to offend her, no matter how petty it might be. She also kept her distance from her which wasn’t difficult thanks to Delilah’s lack of interest. A couple hours of pouting and glaring later, Delilah brought Izzy to the dining room and then she herself headed into the kitchen.

  Izzy’s giant carer clattered around the kitchen, messing with plates, cutlery and food. As she gently stirred a boiling pot the microwave bleeped and grabbed her attention, she went over and pulled out a plastic bowl wreathed in steam. After some more clattering she plated up her meal. A short walk to the dining room and she placed down her plate upon the placemat. She went back to the kitchen for a second and cradled in her palm a second, tinier plate, presumably taken from a dollhouse. Delilah placed it in front of Izzy, who was sitting cross-legged and irritated on the table.

  “This is it? These look like scraps” She whined as she looked at the finely diced spaghetti and a drop of sauce.

  “Stop whining! You’re tiny and that’s your portion”

  Izzy huffed and picked at her minuscule meal.

During dinner Izzy happened to glare up at Delilah as she took another bite of her spaghetti. She wanted to snap at Delilah, to complain about her etiquette or something but the words got caught in her throat. She watched as Delilah’s mouth widened and she could just about see inside. Delilah’s teeth and the dark interior went away as quick as it appeared as her thin pink lips closed around her fork. As she pulled it away a string of spaghetti hung limply from her lips and she simply slurped it back in and licked her lips for any juices. Izzy realised she was staring and spun around. Even though she couldn’t see Delilah anymore she could still see her lips in her mind, a lingering thought that she couldn’t explain. She peered over her shoulder for another look, something else she couldn’t explain. She watched as Delilah swallowed her food and watched her throat shift as it squeezed its contents downwards.

  “…what?” Delilah asked.

  “Huh? Uh, n-nothing. …this spaghetti is so bland, d-did you even season it? It’s a good thing you gave me such a pitiful portion, I don’t think I could stomach any more of it” Izzy sputtered and faced away. Delilah sighed and Izzy quietly sighed as well, believing she had successfully deflected the question.

  “I’m sick of this,” Delilah growled. “You think my cooking is so shit maybe you can help flavour it!”

  “Huh-?“

  Izzy suddenly felt her top yank upwards and its collar dig into her throat, her feet left the ground but before she could shout out she felt her collar relax and her momentum change direction. She landed onto Delilah’s plate and in her warm, slimy spaghetti. Her arms and legs sank deeper into the mass of spaghetti with every squirm and quickly Izzy found herself stuck. She looked up at Delilah and froze. Above her, Delilah stared down, her pink lips pursed slightly. Izzy felt her chest tighten but there was something she couldn’t explain, it felt different.

Delilah stabbed her fork into the mass of spaghetti and coiled it up, intentionally getting Izzy caught in it too. She then brought it to her mouth, doing it slowly to build up tension. Izzy stared into Delilah’s maw as her lips parted and unveiled the slimy, hot, writhing, pungent, wet, cavernous, hungry interior. Izzy struggled to find any more words to describe it but she tried, something inside her tried. She couldn’t make sense of any of the thoughts in her head, it was like trying to make sense of the words of a crowd of people.

  Delilah’s lips closed around the fork, plunging Izzy into darkness, and she slowly pulled the fork out. The mass of spaghetti slumped onto her tongue and was then rolled to the left, folding over itself and resting against her teeth. It then rolled to the right doing the same, burying Izzy and disorienting her. She struggled to see or speak without getting a face full of spit or spaghetti. Eventually the ball of food rolled back towards a dark pit, Delilah’s throat. Izzy managed to get glimpses of the inside of Delilah’s mouth, seeing her teeth and tongue and sometimes a glint of light that slipped in between her lips, but now she could see that dark descent. In a panic Izzy kicked at her slimy restraints but that only made her move closer. She pulled an arm free and tried to grab onto Delilah’s tongue but to no avail.

  “D-Delilah, plea-!” Her panicked voice was abruptly cut off as the mass of food tipped over the edge of Delilah’s tongue and was quickly seized and squeezed down by her throat.

The next few seconds felt like an eternity, the walls closed in on Izzy and pressed against her, moving in pulsing, descending patterns. The heat was immense and the sound of Delilah’s heartbeat got louder and louder, she couldn’t believe what happened and tried to reason it as a dream, one she seemingly wasn’t waking up from. All while one thought sat front and centre, no matter how hard she tried to dismiss it.

  ‘I’m just like food’

  Eventually the grip of Delilah’s fleshy tunnel released and she plopped down into her stomach, into a pool of stomach juices, spaghetti and whatever else might have been in there from earlier. Everything from before was dialled up to eleven: the heat, the smell, the sounds, the feeling, it was all overwhelming to Izzy. Her chest was still tight but now she realised it also felt warm. She couldn’t place how she felt, ‘was she afraid?’ she thought, ‘she should be’. As she dwelled on the thought she slowly noticed her nipples becoming erect, poking through her soaked blouse. Another moment later and she noticed the warmness between her legs, a warmness different to the juices she was sitting in. Gingerly, she lowered her hand downwards and gently pressed a finger against her nethers. Instantly she squirmed, a whimper escaping her lips. She tried to come to any other conclusion but couldn’t. 

  She enjoyed this.