She was beginning to get worried.  Her parents didn’t typically stay out this late…hell, it wasn’t late anymore, it was early.  8 a.m., and she still hadn’t even heard from them.  But what confused Lacey the most was that both of their cars were still in the garage.  For now, she wouldn’t worry about it.  The longer they were gone, the better, she figured, it meant she had the whole place to herself.  Crossing her long, slender legs, she began to bounce her sock-clad foot idly, reaching for her cinnamon-raisin bagel.

Frank, however, was much more confused than his daughter.  Mainly, because he didn’t understand how he’d gone from escorting his wife to her car door, to screaming for his life.  As Lacey, his tall, blonde daughter silently ate breakfast, he found himself lost within the confines of her sock, clinging desperately to the telephone pole-thick rungs of cotton fiber that intertwined all around him, just in front of her toes.  The middle-aged husband desperately struggled to avoid being tossed away from his safety net of sock, deathly afraid of finding himself lodged between the titanic, teenaged toes.  They were easily the most immense, fleshy structures he’d ever seen, yet to Lacey, they were gentle and petite, painted a cute blue color.  With each quick bounce and twist of her slim ankle and model-worthy calves, Lacey threatened to toss her poor father away from the relative safety of her toes, and closer towards the murderous sole, should she decide to set her foot down. 
                Meanwhile, Anita was having a similarly frightening experience.  Though comparatively dangerous, her situation was much different.  The landscape was rocky and craterous, with huge valleys that seem liter the ground everywhere she looked.  There was hardly a step she could take without finding herself tripping.  She’d abandoned her heels long ago; there was no sense in trying to walk through all of this, knowing full well that she would end up breaking her ankle.  She hadn’t the slightest clue where she was, unlike Frank, until a shadow cast over her.  One would think that she might have considered the smell of cinnamon in the environment, and the softness of the ground below her, but it all became too clear, when she looked up to find the source of the shadow, finding a huge, rippling plain, with five, long protruding digits…a hand.  Lacey’s hand.  She was on a breakfast pastry, helplessly waiting to be consumed by her nineteen year old daughter.
                The thumb and fore finger went on either side of her, the thumb being the closest, and she barely had a chance to breathe, before the entire bagel shook violently, as Lacey’s delicate fingers embraced the pastry, and began to lift it, obviously to take her first bite.  However, Anita was not too far from her thumb…and though the bagel’s ascent to her daughter’s face was swift, she arrived at the massive thumb just as the bagel reached the height of its climb. 
                “Lacey, it’s your mother, don’t eat the bagel!”  She screamed, beating harshly against the pink skin of the thumb, her fist fitting easily into the thumbprint.  Her answer came quickly though, as she was harassed by a foul, warm wind, that knocked her to her feet.  She looked back to Lacey’s face, hoping to see the beautiful girl’s bright blue eyes gazing down at her, but instead, saw what she expected.  Pink lips, easily half a mile wide, and a quarter mile tall each, had parted, exposing those pristine white teeth, protecting the entrance to the mouth that surely intended to trap the forty-two year old woman within it’s hot, wet cavern.  “Oh Gosh…oh gosh….”  She could only say, as tears quickly began to spring forth from Anita’s eyes, as she watched the yawning cavern of her daughters mouth open wide enough to accept the first bite of the bagel, the pink, oceanic tongue glistening with moisture.  It was dark inside, apart from the occasional strand of saliva, extending from one area of the mouth to the next, catching bits of the natural sunlight from the window Lacey sat next to. 

Screaming once again, Anita attempted to get to her feet, but only fell again as the bagel was ushered forward towards the mouth’s entrance, but the stay-at-home mom realized quickly, and to her delight, that Lacey’s petite mouth would hardly fit a large enough bite to reach her.  She had time…and wasn’t far from the edge of the bagel.  But no sooner had she realized this, would Lacey begin her breakfast, the gigantic ivory structures of devastation impacting with the soft, untoasted bagel, jarring Anita harshly, and giving her a front-row seat to it all.  The teeth tore harshly through the pastry, pulling away a large chunk of landscape.  The lips followed to assist the teeth by capturing any lingering crumbs that managed to escape their wrath, just briefly glancing over the surface of the bagel.  Anita whimpered in fear, as she expected to be set down, along with the bagel, back on the plate…but had no such long.  Lacey began the chewing process, without setting the bagel down.  The bagel hovered just in front of her soft lips as she chewed.  Anita could only watch in horror as her daughter masticated part of her world, and as close as she was, every gnashing, chewing, grinding sound that resonated from within the blonde’s mouth, was amplified, as the lips hardly stayed sealed, occasionally giving her Lacey’s mother a very clear view of the inside of the mouth, while she carelessly ate. 

His fingers began to burn from attempting to avoid the dangerous toes of his beautiful daughter.  Frank was about to give up hope, hoping to land directly on top of the toes, instead of between them, when to his luck, As she took her first bite of bagel, the rocking stopped, and Frank’s world was still...for a moment.  He got a great, detailed look at the murderous toes, no longer even wiggling…but this pause was not very long, in fact, the world shook with a vengeance, as Lacey curled her toes at the sweet taste of breakfast.  The knuckles of each toe exposing itself briefly, and Frank could only watch, as he embraced himself for what was, essentially, an explosion of power from the, delicate, yet powerful toes…stretching the fabric of the cotton as they temporarily spread and wiggled, sending Frank spiraling desperately towards the even softer cavern of flesh between Lacey’s toes.
               
                And Lacey had no clue of the torture she was putting her parents through, at the expense of warm feet, and sweet breakfast.  She gave a tiny sigh, as she bit the bagel, eyes rolling in the back of her head, partially out of boredom, mostly out of contempt for the idea of her parents walking in and fussing at her for sitting at the breakfast table with the shades lifted, and wearing only her bra, panties, and an open, silken night robe.  Well, what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them.

TBC