He was about to protest, but something about the look in her eyes told him that it would do him no good. She had set herself on a certain path, and nothing he said would sway her in another direction.

Annie turned and walked out of the room, her arms displaying a certain detached confidence and haughtiness, while her dress swayed behind her.

Zimmy grabbed at the curtain and tried to pull it through the window. However, it was too heavy for him. He would not be able to use it to slide down to the garden outside. Then he had another idea. He walked to the far end of the windowsill and was just able to lean out and reach the curtain cord. On this giant world, it operated in a similar way to the cords of window blinds. The cord was light enough to pull up to the windowsill and then drop the end out the other side. He slid down it, as though it were a rope, until he reached the garden bed, and then ran across the lawn. He had almost reached the garden bed at the far side of the back lawn, when he heard Annie calling from the window.

“You can do this if you like, Zimmy. To me this is just another game of chasings, and we both know who won all of those!”

“But I won some of the games of hide-and-seek,” he thought, and darted into the flowerbed, just as Annie opened the door. He looked back, retreating backwards, as she ran across the lawn.

There was something uniquely arousing about the sight of her running after him in that dress. She reached the edge of the lawn and stood and stared down at him. He ran sideways between flowers, while she did the same on the grass with minimal strides for her giant legs in order to match his progress. She came to a log and sat down on it and folded her arms. She waited for him to make another move. He retreated backwards a little. Annie crouched down and reached in with her hand and snatched him.

She carried him back to the house, put him into a baking dish, placed it in the oven, and walked confidently out of the room, much as she had done when she had left him on the windowsill.

Soon she returned, sat on a chair and looked in at him for a while, and then took him to her dining table. The sun outside had now fully set, and the lighting in the room illuminated her radiant towering features. As she picked him up, the feel of her slender fingers was both comfortable and enjoyable. She brought him towards her mouth, put out her tongue and licked him several times, then stopped and smiled.

“Make yourself comfortable in the front room,” she said, “I’ll be using the back room to deal with some substantial sustenance.”

She placed him into her mouth, and soon swallowed him. He went down her throat, wondering what she meant by her references to rooms. When he reached the front compartment of her stomach, he found that there was no acid, and only limited living space, with no exits other than the unreachable one above him, from which he had just come. Soon he heard sounds coming from another part of her stomach, and gradually worked out for himself the internal anatomy of a giant woman’s stomach. So he was not to be digested, but to remain in her stomach.

************************