A man named Peter had consistently come first in English classes at school, and was now a writer working on one of his books. One day, while walking in a forest, he discovered a trans-dimensional tube, and walked into it. It was like a space warp. When he stepped out of the other end, he was in a scenic world in another dimension. He sat down in a clearing of large lovely plants. He felt it was the best atmosphere to write, and came there every day for two weeks.

One day, he was sitting there writing, when he heard heavy footsteps and looked around.

"Hello," said a voice.

He looked up to see a gigantic woman looking down at him. She lifted him up and he saw that beyond the plants was the grass of a gigantic garden. 

"Are you a writer?" asked the woman.

"Yes. I come here to concentrate,” said Peter.

"This garden and its holiday house belong to a friend of mine called Bella, who's quite an accomplished writer too. I'm visiting her today. She comes here to write on weekends, usually for one day at a time, and then goes home. I think she'd like to meet you,” said the giantess.

"Sure, I'll come,” said Peter.

The woman took him to her friend Bella's house in her pocket.

When Bella welcomed her in, she sat down on the couch and said, "I made a little friend on the way. He's a writer too."

"Really? You should have invited him to join us,” said Bella.

"I did," said the woman, and took him out of her pocket.

"I'm pleased to meet you," said Bella. She was in her 20s, and very beautiful.

"Thank you, Bella. I came through a trans-dimensional tube which links my land and your garden."

"Well you're welcome to come over, whenever you like. We can write together. I may be able to help you, and vice versa,” said Bella.

"That’s very kind of you," he said.

"Would you like to read us something you've written?" asked Bella.

He read a poem.

"That's very good," said Bella, "I tend to write a mixture of short stories and multi-chapter novellas."

"I'm about the same, except that I sometimes do poetry, when my ideas are only enough for short stories. It's not surprising really, since I'm so short, compared to you,” said Peter.

"I liked your poem, and I'm sure you can write just as well at any size,” said Bella.

He farewelled her giantess friend, that carried him back to the trans-dimensional tube.

"Now that you know the way, you can walk over to my house, whenever you like. I'm usually here in the daytimes on weekdays,” said Bella.

"Thank you. It will be nice to come here again,” said Peter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter would often visit the giantess Bella, and she would place him on her desk, where he would write on his notepad, while she worked on her own stories. Sometimes they would read paragraphs or verses to each other and ask for feedback and suggestions. She kept her house well stocked, as she ate a hearty lunch in the middle of every day, and would feed him as well.

Today she was spooning some pavlova onto a plate for him, and some slipped off the spoon and fell on his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said, and picked him up.

She suddenly licked pavlova from his face! He had admired her beautiful sparkling tongue for weeks, and watched it eagerly when she was eating or reading. Now he loved the feel of it.

"That's got most of it, but you're still a little sticky," she said, and licked his face twice more, until it was clean. The third lick gave his clean cheeks direct contact with her tongue.

"I couldn't have been happier, if I'd been her boyfriend!" he thought.

She had no idea how thrilling it had been for him.

"How's that?" she asked.

"I feel perfectly clean, thank you. Your tongue was very gentle with me."

"Good,… except I've left all that moisture on you. I'll dry you off," she said, and rubbed him against the dress of her soft shoulder. It was lovely.

They ate their lunch, and went back to writing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter had continued his visits to Bella’s home away from home. She had provided him with so much giant food, that he had not needed to work long hours back on his own earth. So he had taken a part time job two days a week, and devoted the rest of his time to writing. 

One day Peter and Bella were writing, and he was often looking up from his own work at her mouth, having enjoyed the licking experience and fondly remembered it from that day at lunch.

"Peter, do you mind if we take a break for a while? There's something I'd like to ask you about."

"Sure," he said, and put down his book.

She looked down at him, and seemed to be thinking how to express herself about something.

"I've been thinking a lot about the day I cleaned the pavlova from your face."

"I have too," he said, “I’ve never forgotten it.”

"Really? What made it remain in your mind?"

"Well I've never been licked by a giant lady's tongue before," he said, "I guess it was very unusual."

"Did you find it at all unpleasant?"

"No, not at all. A giant sized tongue is just as soft as any other."

"I enjoyed it a lot," she said, "and I enjoyed the third lick most of all, because all of the pavlova had been removed, and it was just your little face I was licking. What I'm really saying is that I think you're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted."

This was wonderful, he thought. She was probably going to ask him if she could lick him every time he visited her.

"Thank you. I think it's a nice compliment," he said.

"Well Peter, I liked the taste of you so much, that I'd like to ask for your permission to eat you."

He looked at her in surprise for several seconds.

Her face showed no embarrassment at having made such a monumental request of him, with such lasting consequences, if he agreed to it.

"Do you mean … completely?" he asked, although he knew her answer before she said it.

"Yes. I obviously don't need to bite you, and I'd never do that to you anyway. You're small enough to go down as one mouthful. I'd like to lick you several times, with no pavlova to detract from the taste, then place you into my mouth and let you slide around on my tongue for a few minutes, and then gulp you down my throat. I was happy when you said you didn't find the licking process unpleasant."

"I'm honoured that you think so highly of how I taste, Bella. It's just that I enjoy our writing sessions together. I look forward to them more than anything I ever do on my own world. If you eat me, I'll never have any more of them."

"I've enjoyed them too, and I know I'd miss them. I’ve never told you this, but I’ve met other little boys like you. I’ve asked each of them for permission to eat them, and they’ve all said “no” and never come back. With you I didn’t ask until now, because our common interest in writing was worth sharing. However, I have weighed it up in my mind, and the experience of eating you is one I'd remember fondly for the rest of my life."

"If I said no, would you eat me anyway, without my permission?"

"No, I promise you I'd never do that. In fact, if you said no, you'd still be welcome to come and continue our writing sessions as often as you like. I won't hold it against you in any way, if I can't have what I'm asking you for."

Now he loved her more than ever, but it was such a difficult decision.

“The being eaten part sounds like the most wonderful thing that could ever happen to me. But the rest, after you’ve swallowed me, would be really scary and painful.”

“It wouldn’t be, though. I can control the gulping process, so that you slide into the front compartment of my tummy,” said Bella, “Everything else I eat goes into the back section, where I have stomach acids to digest it. The front section’s just like a flesh pouch, although nutrients absorbed from the back section can porously seep through into the front section to sustain you by a variation of osmosis. I could feel you moving about in my tummy’s front section forever, and pushing against the front of it. You’d never need to go back to your little world, and we’d always be together like that.”

“Wow! That sounds lovely. I never knew about the front section of your tummy before. Nobody has one on my world. You've been my very dearest friend, and I'd love to do anything for you. The actual process of being eaten (the way you've described it) doesn't sound frightening at all. It's just the fact that once you'd gulped me down, I'd be eaten forever."

"I know. If you do give me permission to do it, I'd be grateful beyond words,” said Bella.

"Could I think about it, and give you an answer the next time I come to visit?"

"That'll be fine. Well, thank you for not saying an immediate no. Shall we get back to writing?"

"Alright," he said, and lay down in front of his notepad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter wrote very little, and kept looking up at Bella and thinking about her unusual request.

"Bella, I can't really concentrate on writing, and if you do eat me, I won't be writing any more anyway. Are you having trouble concentrating too?"

"Not really," she said, "My mind does wander into recollections of your tasty meat, but I'm still getting plenty of work done. You'd find it harder to concentrate than me, because you're the one whose life would change forever by being eaten. I'll still go on writing as usual, whether I eat you or not. You have to make allowances for that, and don't try too hard to force a new poem, when your mind is occupied with such an important choice to make. You know that you can trust me not to eat you uninvited, don’t you, Peter?”

“Yes Bella,” he said.

“If I lay down on my side in bed, would you be willing to climb into my mouth and about half way along my throat, and lie there for a while, so I could feel you there, and then climb back out again?”

“What if you sat up suddenly? I’d fall down anyway.”

“I’ll make sure I don’t do that. I’ll stay on my side, until you’re out again.”

“I would like to do it for you. I’d do anything for you. It’s just very risky. Will you promise to be very careful? One mistake could see me eaten ahead of any agreement we might or might not make later.”

“I give you my word I won’t shift from the moment you climb into my mouth,” she said.

“Alright. I’ll do it.”

She took him to the bed, and lay on her side. He watched her mouth open and climbed in and slid his body past her tongue, which was now like a wall to him, rather than the floor of her mouth. He made his way into her throat, right to where the tongue started and slid along. It felt soft and comfortable as he lay in there. Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep. He awoke later, and wondered how long he had slept.

Peter slid his way out of Bella’s throat and out of her mouth.

“You were in there a long time. You must have become very contented with the idea,” she said.

“How long was I in there?”

She looked at the clock.

“About 2 ½ hours.”

“I’m sorry. I fell asleep. Was it awkward for you to lie in that position all this time and not be able to talk to me to ask when I was coming out?”

“It was fine. I fell asleep too for a while.”

“Oh my goodness! That’s another thing we didn’t think of. You might have turned over in your sleep.”

“I wouldn’t have sat up though. At worst, you’d have reached my mouth and needed to wait for me to put my head on its side again.”

“I was halfway down your throat, halfway to your stomach. What an adventure!”

“I hope I haven’t given you reason to regret it.”

He loved her too much for that.

“No. I don’t regret it,” said Peter.

She carried him to the trans-dimensional tube, and said, "I'll see you soon, and please don't be afraid to come back. I'd value your continued visits if I can't eat you."

"I'll come back and tell you, either way."

He made his way home, and thought how beautiful her mouth was.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter wrote a poem and went to visit Bella again.

"Hello," she said, and picked him up and put him on the desk.

"I've written a poem for you."

"Thank you. I'm sure I'll enjoy it," she said, and sat down, "You can read it now, if you like."

He read from his notepad:

            My dear Bella, I am going to say "Yes,"

            To what you've requested, but you'd never guess,

            That, during the time that I've come here to write,

            Your presence has filled me with endless delight.

"Little friend, that's beautiful. I'm very touched, and happy beyond description to have the answer you've given me."

"When would you like to do it?"

"I'm going to sleep the next two nights here. Would you like to stay the night with me tonight, and I could eat you for dinner tomorrow night? Is that too soon? I don't know if you wanted to do anything back on your own world first."

"No, it's not too soon. I think tomorrow night will be fine."

"Good."

"So you realise now that I enjoyed the licking, because I think your mouth is so beautiful."

"Yes. So you'll enjoy our dinner date tomorrow night."

"I'm looking forward to it now."

"Well I'm going to start writing. What would you like to do?"

"Could I rest in your lap against your stomach for a while? It would be interesting to press against it from the outside some time before tomorrow night."

"Alright," she said, and placed him in front of her stomach.

He enjoyed the soft feel of it for a while, and imagined what it would be like to be inside the stomach in less than two days time. He looked up at her face, while she wrote. She would go on happily, and he would become a part of her. He now had the chance to give her a significant moment of happiness, and enjoy the contact with her lovely mouth, while she was doing it.

After a while, Bella lifted Peter back to the table, and said, "I've written a response to your kind poem," and read:

            Your verse was so lovely. It moves me to see,

            That you wrote a heart warming one about me.

            I'm pleased for the chance to place you in a bowl,

            For dinner tomorrow, and gobble you whole.

"Do you like it?" she asked.

"Yes, very much. It expresses everything in a way that makes me feel special."

"You're very special," she said.

When they had lunch, he watched her mouth more than usual, imagining himself in the place of the food.

When the day concluded, Bella took Peter to sleep in her bed, and left a reading lamp on.

He lay by her cheek, and talked with her for an hour or so. Then she fell asleep. He took another two hours to get to sleep, moving across the pillow to look at her whole face and then back to her cheek. The anticipation of the following night had made him too excited to drop off to sleep.

She looked beautiful, sleeping contentedly. She was having a perfect life, without the dichotomy of emotions which faced him, as the critical meal approached. 

Finally he fell asleep for a few hours

Peter awoke before Bella, and looked at her again as the sun came up.

When she awoke, he asked if he could lie on her neck for a while.

"It's a chance to prepare for the other stage of tonight's meal," he said, "I've been in your mouth, and pressed against your stomach. Your neck will be the outside of your throat. It’ll be good to feel the outside of the neck that will eventually be gulping me down and swallowing me."

"You're very welcome," she said.

"I didn't sleep much in the night."

"That's understandable. I'll set up a cushion as a makeshift bed for you, when I start writing."

While she wrote that day, he looked up at her for some of the time, lying on a small cushion she had placed on the desk for his comfort, and dropped off for lengthy sleeping spells now and then too.

When it was near the end of the day, Peter watched Bella writing until she said, "Well are you ready to go to the kitchen with me now?"

"Yes, Bella."

"Let's go then," she said, and picked him up and carried him to the kitchen bench.

"Tell me whatever I can do to help you prepare me for eating," he said.

"You won't need to do much, except watch it happen," she said, "but thank you for offering. I've been very impressed with the way you've coped with this situation, ever since I first asked you about it."

She opened a shelf below him and took out an oven baking dish. Peter looked up at her towering upper body, her neck and face, as her dainty hands went about the task of preparing him. Her well dressed stomach was right in front of him.

"Well I guess you realise that I have somewhat mixed motives," he said.

"That doesn't make what you're doing for me any less impressive," she said, putting the dish down on the bench beside him, "I'm flattered by your feelings for me, and I think we're two kindred spirits as writers. If your opinion of my mouth has been the reason you agreed to let me eat you; then I'm very glad you find it beautiful."

"I'm glad I can make you happy like this," he said, "I guess it was very fortunate the day that the pavlova spilt onto my face."

"It was. If I hadn't licked you, I might not have known to this day how delicious you are."

She lifted him into the centre of the baking dish, and then picked it up in one hand, and walked over to the oven. She opened it, and leaned down to place the dish in the oven.

"I'll turn it on with a very low setting. It won't burn you, just warm you up a little. Your meat is the best there is, but all meat tastes better when it's cooked."

"Okay."

"I'll come and fetch you soon," she said, and closed the oven door.

The window was level with his position. So he watched her rise to her full standing position, walk around the kitchen, take some oranges to the table and squeeze a jug of orange juice. She wore a long neck-to-knees dress with short sleeves and a distinctive waist line, nice shoes with round fronts, and no openings for toes, which he never found fashionable anyway. She looked perfect just like that, a grand giantess, with her hair swaying a little as she moved, licking her lips at the thought of her next meal.

…And he was going to be that meal.

She walked out to the dining room with the jug and a glass.

Peter waited until Bella returned.

She walked towards him, opened the oven, took the dish out, and picked him up and touched his face with the tip of her tongue.

"Hmm, that's nice, but could you be comfortably heated up just a little more? I want this to be absolutely perfect."

"It's a bit like being in a sauna, but not uncomfortable," he said.

"I'll sit on the stool and watch you warm up a little more. If it's beginning to be too hot, just wave your hands, and I'll get you out."

She put him back in the dish, and placed it into the oven.

She sat down on the stool and looked in at him

Peter marvelled at the grand elegance of Bella’s giant body, and the way her dress hung over her knees, and the view of her legs beyond. He could never have outrun those legs if she had insisted on eating him without his permission and chased him through her giant garden. Peter waited until she opened the oven again, took out the dish, tasted him once more, and said, "That's perfect, Peter. I'm ready to serve you now."

She reached to a shelf above him and took a plate down, and placed him upon it. She walked into the dining room, put the plate on the table and sat down.

"Well here we are," she said, "I'd like to put you into my mouth, before you've cooled down much. This will be our last chance to talk. Is there anything else you'd like to say, before I commence?"

"Thank you for being my lovely friend, and best wishes for a nice dinner."

"I'm sure you'll be that," she said, "And thank you for being my dear little delicious friend. Alright, my sweet little admirer, I'm ready to eat you."

"Goodbye, lovely giant."

"Farewell, sweet young dinner."

She lifted him gently towards her mouth in her fingers, and then opened her hand and let him lie on the palm.

She put out her tongue and licked him for a minute or so, and then said, "You're the most luscious meal I've ever had. In you go then, little darling."

She opened her mouth wide, and placed him into it. She left her mouth open for a minute, while he looked out at her retracting hand, her lips and the dining room.

Then she slowly closed her mouth, and moved her tongue about, sliding him and rolling him around on it. She did this for several minutes.

Then she stopped, and her tongue did not move at all for a second.

"She's about to swallow me," he realised.

He had guessed correctly.

She slowly arched her tongue upwards, so that he slid into her throat. He stopped in the middle of her neck.

She waited a few seconds, and then he felt her gulping.

He slid down further and further and reached her stomach.

"Well that's it," he thought, "She's eaten me. She'll be back to her writing tomorrow."

Peter found himself inside a small, stuffy, yet cozy space. Everything in there is very dark and humid and he, although knowing that he’s inside Bella’s stomach, feels himself a little calm. Not much, but calm enough to not to try to get out of her beautiful body. He noticed, as he entered Bella's stomach, that a slight peristaltic contraction pushed him into a different area, separated by a thick muscular membrane that seems to be closed now, as he felt it closing as soon as his body entered that part. It’s a fantastic experience for him: to be for the first (and definitive) time inside the digestive system of a giant woman, at the mercy of her body.

This space is not empty, however: he noticed a small pool in the bottom of the living chamber that contains him. Its odor, contrary to his expectations, is sweet. A little sour too, but sweet. The environment also has some very acid odors coming sometimes from the back section of Bella's stomach, the digesting section, as she explained before.

"I don’t think it’s going to kill me if I taste it just a little..." Peter said to himself, tasting some of the sweet liquid in which he is partially dipped. The taste is very sweet, but at the same time acidic: like pineapple juice mixed with too much honey.

"Hey Bella, did you drink some pineapple juice?"

No answer.

"Yep, I see. You simply can’t hear me. You’re there, going on with your life and living all the good things world has to offer, while I... have been eaten and that’s all." he spoke again, a little uneasy with his new reality: he is completely isolated from everything that exists, having to live the long rest of his life inside the belly of a giant woman who, a few minutes ago, was his best company at writing, and with which he had shared so many good moments.

Soon, he heard a weak gulping sound coming from above, and a splash coming from the back section of Bella's stomach. Peter had no doubt about what's happening: Bella’s having a lunch. The back section of her stomach is half-filled with the orange juice she drank before eating him and now everything she’s swallowing falls into the pool of juice that the back section of her stomach contains. Peter was quiet, just listening to the sounds that Bella unwittingly makes inside her body as she chews and swallows food, food that is making her stomach more and more full, gulp after gulp. The safe space he's in is getting tighter, and then Bella apparently stopped chewing and swallowing.

Peter felt everything sway slightly, and weak, rhythmic vibrations around him could be clearly perceived. Outside, Bella rose from the table after devouring a full meal, something that, unlike Peter, could sustain her for a few hours before her body starts to need more food. She now just walks, satisfied, closing the house and taking a well-lined path that leads her back to the village where she lives.

"I hope you're feeling good in there, my little fellow... as you're going to be inside me forever." she spoke with a sweet voice and a beautiful smile, lightly patting her belly. Inside her, Peter felt strong vibrations all around him, not knowing it was just Bella patting her belly in satisfaction. But he heard all of Bella's words and, again, got a little worried: what will be of his new life, from now on? It seems that the sweet liquid here with him is some kind of nutritious liquid that will nourish him, as Bella spoke before, by a variation of osmosis. Peter also decided to drink it, since, although sweet to the point of becoming nauseating, small amounts of that liquid are still quite pleasing to his taste.

Leaning his ear on the thick flesh that separates the front section from the back section of the stomach he’s forever into, Peter could hear Bella's stomach digesting its contents, gurgling softly with each contraction of its walls. It seems very busy now and Peter thanked for not being there at that moment, or he would be now being dissolved in digestive juices together with Bella's other meal, something quite painful. From there, Peter can feel almost every stomach movement, while it contracts and distends, digesting Bella’s meal.

Peter settled into the now tight space he has for himself, waiting for the back section to push its contents into Bella’s intestines, so he can have a reasonable space for himself again. His body apparently absorbed some of the sweet liquid that surrounded him and Peter is already satisfied: as Bella said, his body is being nourished by osmosis.

"You know what? It's very sweet of you to allow me inside your lovely tummy, my big friend…" Peter said, knowing Bella just can’t hear him (even though she can feel him moving inside her): She has her own life to go with and he's just a little guest inside her belly . A guest that only Bella knows is there: for the rest of the world, Peter doesn’t exist anymore.

Peter stretched out, settling himself in a corner farther to the left and, listening to Bella's strong heartbeats, he fell asleep.