When I first joined nearly 2 years ago, I wrote a few one-offs under a series called “Classic Sequels” and ultimately removed them, as the limitations of being bound by the original stories made it hard to write truly original gts vore and gts romance.

This saga will go back and rewrite the originals from scratch, interlocking several stories with overlapping plots in time, as the complexity of sequel material develops. As well as that, being a convicted Christian, I feel I should remove the occult derived magic subtexts, which occur in some of the originals. This will in no way detract from the gts vore and gts romance elements. If anything, the blank page will enable me to tell more story than following the originals would have. (Obviously I could never go in for actual vore suicide or murder either, but, having discussed this fantasy with a number of other authors and readers, I conclude for now, that it’s harmless enough as a fantasy fiction).

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Once upon a time, hundreds of years before global warming made it unsafe for children to be out walking forests and climbing beanstalks in the middle of the day, there was a 13 ½ year old boy named Jack. He was on the brink of adolescence, and lived alone in a house just outside the town. Jack had his eye on a wealthy young girl in the nearby town named Gretel.

Sadly, Gretel’s mother had remarried to a man who didn’t spend much time with the children, which left Gretel with lots of issues. Gretel was still dealing with her baggage at the time that Jack began asking her out. As Jack was poor like her stepfather, she wondered if Jack was just trying to stake an advanced claim on a future marriage for money, just as she thought her stepfather might have done. So she refused to date Jack until he could come up with some signs of independent wealth.

So, in desperation, Jack walked into the town with his last cow, and met the town inventor Wee Willie Tinkerer in the marketplace. He was peddling his various inventions. He had several fascinating items still available.

“Sir, I have only one cow,” said Jack.

“For that, most of my creations might be out of your price range, but I’ll trade you my Wonder Beans for your cow,” said Willie Tinkerer, “Do you have a farm?”

“Yes,” said Jack, “The soil’s good.”

“Then just plant your Wonder Beans and they’ll bring you good fortune,” said Willie.

Jack made the trade and carried the Beans in his pouch. Then he went to call on Gretel. The door was answered by her younger brother Hansel, who was more sympathetic to visitors. Hansel fetched Gretel to the door, where she saw that Jack had come to call on her.

“I have the means to make my fortune now,” said Jack, “If you would like to come on a picnic in the field beyond the woods outside the town tomorrow, I will show them to you.”

“I shall be there,” said Gretel, and she turned up the next day as promised, walking out of the town, through the woods and into the field, where Jack was already opening the picnic basket on the rug where he sat.

Gretel sat down to join him for ham and cucumber sandwiches and enjoyed her lunch for a while.

When they had finished eating, Jack put his arm around her, hoping to see where things would go.

“So, err … tell me how you came into such good fortune,” said Gretel.

“With these,” said Jack, and opened his pouch and poured the Wonder Beans into her hand, “These are Wonder Beans.”

“You’ve probably been conned by someone, if you think you’re going to get rich with beans!” said Gretel, throwing them into the field, “I don’t want to see you again until you’re filthy rich!”

Gretel got up and stormed away, leaving Jack in despair. He lay down on the rug in the noon day sun and dozed off to sleep.

Having been left at home with his big sister out on a picnic and his parents otherwise occupied, Hansel, being a boy of eight, decided to go for a walk in the woods, which were just near their house on the edge of town. He remembered his sister’s advice on ways to keep from getting lost in the woods.

“I don’t think I’ll waste time on any crumby ideas like that,” thought Hansel, and quickened his pace and walked deep into the woods, further than he’d gone before, until he came to a timber-wood cottage.

The front fence had been decorated with gingerbread biscuits and other tasty items. Hansel was feeling quite peckish and decided to indulge himself. He nibbled gingerbread for several minutes, before a woman in her fifties opened the front door of the cottage and came out. Even at the tender young age of eight, Hansel was as capable as this author was of noticing that there was something quite pretty about her. Her lips were only of medium depth, but her cheeks were round in a way that made Hansel keen to snuggle against them and give her a cuddle.

Hansel noticed something else about the woman. She was looking at him, frequently licking her lips, and the sight of her tongue’s movements were making a confusingly enervating impression on the boy.

“I see you’re enjoying my gingerbread,” she said, “But I can cook food inside until it’s warm and very tasty. Come in and make yourself at home. My name is Dinella.”

“Thank you. I’m Hansel.”

The woman held out her hand and took Hansel’s hand, as she led him into the cottage and closed the door. She took him to the table and showed him a quaint kitchen with a large oven.

“What do you think of my oven?” she asked him.

“It’s very big,” said Hansel, “What are you going to cook today?”

“You!” said Dinella, and took firm hold of Hansel with both her hands. He struggled in vain to free himself.

Dinella forced Hansel into the oven and pushed him to the back. He had room to sit comfortably and look out, as she continued licking her lips and smiling in a way that made her round cheeks look even more beautiful.

“Please don’t cook me!” said Hansel, “Ovens get very hot.”

“This one won’t. You’ll be comfortably warm, for sure,” said Dinella, “But this oven doesn’t generate a lot of heat. It mainly generates radiation! Do you know what that will do to you, you delicious looking boy?”

“No,” said Hansel, “I don’t know about radiation.”

“It will reduce you in size,” said Dinella, “As you’re cooking in my oven, you will get smaller and smaller, until I’m able to fit you inside my mouth.”

Hansel was hoping to climb out of the oven and escape the woman, as soon as she left the room. He realised that this would be a lot harder if he lost most of his size, and thought frantically of ways to trick Dinella.

“If you make me smaller, you won’t get much meat out of me,” said Hansel.

“That’s no bother to me, lad,” said Dinella, “You’re far from being the only boy that I’ve ever eaten.”

“But my friend Cary Cature says that eating anyone under 16 is wrong, regardless of genre,” said Hansel.

“You’re clutching at straws,” said Dinella, chuckling happily, “You won’t be hurt by the oven or my mouth, but you’ll soon be a healthy addition to my stomach. Young boys are so mouth watering.”

Dinella closed the oven door and reached up out of sight, so that she could collect something from on top of the open. Her hand soon came back into view, as Hansel watched closely through the window in the oven door. She was holding a large key. Hansel heard her turning it in a lock outside, and found that the oven door was now sealed shut.

Dinella peeked in at him and waved her hand mischievously, smiling at his realisation of the way that she had secured him. He saw her licking her lips again, and then she turned and walked out of the room.

Dinella was attractively plump, well built, with powerful shoulders and arms. Now Hansel understood that she had most likely acquired this inspirational girth from eating other boys before him. He wondered how many boys had made their way into the alluring hospitality of her clutches, only to find that they were to be the meals in her stomach, while her enjoyment continued.

Jack woke up in the middle of the afternoon and was amazed at what he could see. A huge tall gigantic beanstalk had grown from the field and reached high into the clouds, as far as his eye could see. It had large leaves on stems which would be easy to climb.

It must have grown from Willie Tinkerer’s Wonder Beans, he surmised.

Jack knew that nothing could be salvaged from what he had left behind with Gretel. The future, he was sure, lay ahead, at the top of the beanstalk. He began a long climb, and marvelled at the sights. He could see over the woods, into the town, and even beyond the town below, to the valleys that led off to other towns he’d never visited. Why walk off to them, when he could climb into the clouds?

Jack climbed higher and higher and soon saw white clouds around him, obscuring some of the leaves of the beanstalk. He climbed through, and found that, beyond the clouds, the beanstalk emerged at the top of a hillside where even the flowers were taller than Jack himself. Across a huge garden, with scenic giant pathways and flowers, Jack saw a gigantic mountainous castle. Did fortune lie within? There would certainly be adventure.

Jack began a slow journey across the garden, until he came to the towering door of the castle. He looked up, and saw that the door knocker was high out of his reach. He climbed up onto the step and then saw that there was enough space under the door for him to slide under it. Jack made his way into a grand luxurious room, and walked for a while, until he saw a 15 year old giant girl walking towards him. She saw him and stopped, looking down. He was about the height of her ankle.

“Hello!” he called, “I’m Jack.”

“I’m pleased to meet you, and welcome to Brobdingnag, Jack,” she said, reaching down and picking him up, “But it is not safe for you to stay here. My mother’s favourite dinner is a little boy like you. Every time she catches one, she makes a great ceremony of eating him.”

“Really?” said Jack, “Can your father do nothing to stop her?”

“Mother’s a widow,” said the girl, “I’m Serena. Oh my! I hear Mother coming. I must hide you.”

Serena noticed a vase of flowers, and quickly concealed Jack between some flowers, so that he could peek out and witness the approach of Serena’s giant mother.

The woman walked into the room and looked at the grand old carpet which lay on the floor.

“Fee fie foe fints.

I see tiny boy footprints.

If he’s young and still unwed

I’ll gulp him whole, until I’m fed!” said the woman.

There was one thing that Serena had not told Jack about her mother. The giantess was the most beautiful woman that Jack had ever seen.

After a while, Dinella returned to her kitchen and walked around, gathering a plate, a glass, and a tray, and setting them on the bench on the other side of the room. Then she came over and looked in at him, and he noticed the difference in their sizes now. Her beaming face was an engrossing sight in front of the glass window.

Dinella smiled and put out her tongue at him, and made a gesture with her finger and thumb, beside it. He realised that she was inviting him to consider the scale of it in comparison to himself. He estimated that he was now not a lot taller than what he could see of the length of her tongue. Dinella fetched a stool and sat on it in front of the oven, so that she could keep an eye on the last stage of his reduction. He looked out in bewilderment, still wishing that she might have given him a cuddle instead of eating him. Dinella eagerly awaited her meal, enjoying the diminishing sight of her captive as he sat cooking in her oven.

Hansel fully understood the danger that he was in. He knew that he would never return from Dinella’s stomach. Yet, along with this realisation came a strange anticipation. Hansel was too young to understand why the sight of Dinella’s tongue and the thought of her intentions excited him. Soon he would be between those lovely round cheeks, inside her mouth, on her tongue, and on his way to a plump stomach which somehow captivated him. He was both keen to escape and slightly thrilled about what lay in store.

“It’s amazing!” he thought, “Soon I’m going to be eaten!”

Then he heard the oven alarm go off, and saw her reach for the key again, and unlock and open the door.

“You heard the alarm,” she said, “You’re small enough now. Just look at you! I think you’re going to be the tastiest little boy I’ve ever eaten.”

Her hand reached in towards him, and he admired the smile on her face. Her fingers felt strangely pleasant as they closed about his now tiny form. Dinella stood up and walked over to the tray, and placed him onto the plate. Hansel looked up at her neck, which was clearly in view from this angle. It was wide and soft and pink. He imagined what it would be like, when he was inside that neck, when it became his way down inside her stomach. It would not be long now, and he would find out. He felt movement, as she lifted the tray and carried everything to her table. Dinella sat down, and once again, he saw her tongue orbiting around the aperture of her mouth, signalling the pleasure she was deriving from the prospect of eating him up soon.

“Do you think I’m overweight?” she asked.

“What does overweight mean?” asked Hansel.

“Do you think I look too fat?”

“No. I think being fat looks good,” said Hansel.

“Well aren’t you a polite little meal?” she said, “I think I might nickname you Girthfood. I hoped you liked my gingerbread, Hansel. It’s time for you to feed me in return now.”

As he looked on in wonder, Hansel again felt her fingers lifting him up off the plate, as he saw himself rising into the air, above her neck and level with her mouth.

 “Once I’m in there, I’ll never get out, but there’s no way to get out of her grip anyway,” he thought, and yet there was something exciting about her mouth which he couldn’t put to words.

As he continued to stare in amazement, the tongue that he had witnessed through the oven window came out of her mouth, as her hand moved him slowly towards it. She opened her hand, so that he was spread comfortably on her palm and found himself lying on his back. He looked at her cheeks again.

Dinella’s hand moved him towards her tongue. He saw the large sparkling taste organ right in front of his reduced form. Then he felt it. Dinella’s tongue actually touched his chest and shoulders and face all at once. Then she slid it upwards, licking his face with every part of her tongue in turn, and then withdrew it into her mouth.

“I enjoyed that, Hansel,” she said, “You tasted magnificent.”

“Your tongue feels nice,” said Hansel, “… and it looks nice too.”

“Do you really think so?” asked Dinella, “None of the other boys ever made mention of such a thing.”

“Your cheeks look nice too,” said Hansel, “I wish I could cuddle them instead.”

“Instead of what?” asked Dinella.

“Instead of you eating me,” said Hansel.

“You can do it as well,” said Dinella.

“Thank you,” said Hansel, “I’m still a bit wet from your tongue water.”

She used her free hand to guide a lock of her hair, so that it hung within Hansel’s reach.

“You can dry yourself with my hair,” she said, and watched him do so.

Dinella then held Hansel beside her left cheek, and felt him reach out with both arms and press his chest and tiny cheek to her own huge cheek. Then she moved him over to the other side and repeated the process.

“Thank you, Dinella,” said Hansel.

“You’re welcome, Hansel, but the fun for you is coming to an end. Now I’m going to eat you all up, you delicious little sweet boy!”

Dinella licked him several more times, and then opened her mouth wide.

“In you go, little Hansel, and you’ll soon be on your way to my tummy,” said Dinella and put the boy gently into her mouth.

He thought back over the day’s events. That morning he had woken up and begun a typical day, seen Gretel go off with Jack, and then taken his walk. Now he was lying on this strangely magnificent tongue, with her throat awaiting him whenever she felt like drawing him into it.

He lay there for a while, recalling the sight of her tongue, while she had been licking her lips at various stages throughout the day, and guessed that Dinella must be enjoying the taste of him. Then he heard a laugh coming up from her throat. It, or her latest decision, caused her tongue to move, and he could do nothing to avoid sliding into her throat. Once inside it, he thought back to the image he had seen of her towering neck, while she had been carrying him to the table. Several more movements took him all the way down, and he found himself in her soft dark stomach. He remembered how grand it had looked from the outside, when she had been sitting on the stool watching him cook and reduce. For Dinella, there was still a world out there, with an oven, a kitchen, a fence with gingerbread on it, and the freedom to walk the woods beyond. For him, the stomach which now surrounded him was his last stop.

Jack stared out at Serena’s mother and saw the woman pacing around, her eyes scanning the carpet for any clue as to where Jack might be hiding.

“It’s lucky that she doesn’t know Serena lifted me up and hid me here,” thought Jack.

He had quite literally forgotten the existence of Gretel and the disappointment of the picnic. He was wildly infatuated with a giantess who would have eaten him if she had caught him by now. How incongruous the situation seemed. Yet Jack could hardly deny his feelings.

Serena waited until her mother had given up the search and left the room. Then the giant girl took Jack back out to the garden and found the top of the beanstalk.

“You’re very lucky,” she said, “Mother would be so angry, if she found out that I helped you escape.”

“Thank you, Serena. You saved me,” said Jack.

He waved goodbye to the girl and headed back down the beanstalk.

The next day, an older lad named Nils, who was 19, found the beanstalk and climbed it. Unwilling to venture into the castle, although ignorant of the threat which lay within, Nils walked around past it, and into a nearby giant forest. He was carrying an empty backpack, which he tended to take with him wherever he went. He came to a berry patch, which had berries which were, to Nils, as large as tennis balls.

“A few of these could fill my backpack and keep me in plentiful supply of this great fruit for weeks,” thought Nils, and began the strenuous task of picking the giant berries and putting them into his backpack.

Soon he heard a sound which made him tremble. Suddenly, towering high above him was a gigantic woman. She was simply enormous.

“What are you doing in my favourite berry patch?” she roared.

“G-g-gathering berries,” shivered Nils.

“Nobody gathers berries in MY patch!” roared the woman, “I shall eat YOU for my supper!”

“Please … don’t do that,” said Nils, “I am but a humble visitor to your land.”

The giant woman was in a playful mood.

“Run and hide,” she said, “I will come and look for you. The first time I find you I will let you go. The second time I find you I will also let you go. But the third time I find you I shall EAT YOU … Now off with you. Run and hide!”

Nils dashed here, there and everywhere in a panic. How could he hide from a giantess? It was impossible. He had almost given up hope of escaping, when he saw a tree trunk with a loose splinter at the bottom. Nils tugged with all his might, until the splinter came loose, climbed in and pulled the splinter back in front of him.

“She will never find me in here,” he laughed to himself, but he had laughed too soon.

When the giantess came looking for him, she was carrying an axe, and cut down the very tree in which Nils was hiding.

“Found you!” she said as she pulled him out and put him on the ground, “Now run and hide again.”

Nils ran to the lake side, found a hollow reed and climbed inside.

“She will never find me this time,” he laughed.

Once again it was too soon, as the giantess came along to collect reeds to take home to her own garden. She pulled at the reeds and plucked several at once, including the one which was concealing Nils.

“Found you!” she laughed, as Nils tumbled out onto the grass, “Now run and hide once more. Next time I find you, I shall put you into my cooking pot.”

Nils was in despair, but determined to outwit her yet. Nils found a fish, which had washed up on the shore of the lake and drowned out of water. He climbed inside the fish and hid himself.

When the giantess came along, she searched everywhere for Nils, but was unable to find him. Then she noticed the fish.

“I think I shall have this for my supper instead,” she said aloud, “I’m sure it will fill me up nicely, but it won’t be half as appetising as that plucky young man.”

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

Late in the golden afternoon, Alice was sitting in the garden of her mother’s huge estate, reading a book. She wondered to herself, what was the point of a book without pictures?

Then she saw a midget teenaged boy, around her own age, or perhaps slightly younger, running through the garden. He saw her and called out:

“I’m late. I’m late! I just can’t get a date!”

“Who are you?” she asked.

“The White Robert,” he said, “Must rush.”

“Hey!” called Alice, and chased after the boy. He only came up to some point between her knees and waist, but was surprisingly nimble in outrunning her. He ran into some thick undergrowth. Alice got down on all fours and crawled in after him and grabbed hold of him.

She had no sooner seized him in her arms, than the ground opened up beneath them, and she found herself slowly floating down through a surprisingly well lit vertical tunnel.

“We’ve fallen down my Robert Hole,” said the White Robert.

“I wonder how far down it goes,” said Alice.

“Down to the room,” said the White Robert, “Very nice of you to carry me like this.”

“You’re welcome,” said Alice, “Though I have you in my arms because I caught you.”

“It feels like a nice cuddle though,” said White Robert.

“For me too,” said Alice, “Though I might suggest that, the next time you wish to secure the company of a girl, you might consider taking her somewhere other than halfway down to the Antipodes. I feel like I’m on a journey to the centre of the-“

“Never that one! Jules rush in, where young girls fear to tread!” said White Robert.

“I’m older than you, I should think,” said Alice.

“Then you must be old enough to be kissed,” said White Robert, and landed one squarely on Alice’s lovely lips.

As she was holding him up with her hands, she could not use them to respond in any way, positively or otherwise. Alice could only ride out the kiss until he stopped.

“Such cheek!” said Alice, “Perhaps I should just let go of you.”