In present day, Madame Leontine Grogrande the scientist had a visit from a seven year old boy with a strange request.

“I’m John Dough,” said the boy, “And I want to go bun-gy jumping. Can you turn me into bread like a  bun, so it’s not so dangerous when I jump off the cliff?”

Madame Grogande applied herself to the task, and had soon perfected a machine that would transform a meat person into a bread person and vice versa. It was built in the shape of an oven. So she bade the boy to get inside it, and then turned it on. In time he could still feel his limbs, but they felt soft and malleable like gingerbread, because they were gingerbread.

“Oh well, it’s not a bun,” said Madame Grogande, “but you should still be able to go off that cliff more gingerly now.”

John Dough thanked her kindly, promising to return for the reverse treatment, after he had enjoyed his bun-gy jumping experience. He had to walk through a picnic area to get to the edge of the cliff. As it was the middle of the week, the place was largely deserted. Yet John saw a woman sitting at a table staring at him with mingled surprise and interest.

“Good morning, Madam,” said he.

“Why he’s really alive!” gasped the woman.

“Is a live person so very unusual?” asked John curiously.

“Surely when he’s made of cake!” answered the woman, still staring as if she could not believe her eyes.

“Pardon me. I am not cake, but gingerbread,” he answered in a rather dignified way.

“It’s all the same,” she answered, “You haven’t any right to be alive. There’s no excuse for it.”

“But how can I help it?” he asked, somewhat puzzled by this remark.

“Oh I don’t suppose it is your fault. But it isn’t right, you know. Who made you?”

“Madam Grogande the scientist,” he said.

“I always knew that scientists were mostly mad,” she declared, “Are you done?”

Before he could reply, she had drawn a large spoon from her plate and stuck it into his side.

“Don’t do that!” he cried indignantly, as she drew out the spoon again.

“I was only trying you,” she remarked, “You’re done to a turn, and you ought to make good eating while you’re fresh.”

John Dough gazed at her in surprise!

“Good eating!” he cried, “Woman, would you destroy me?”

“I can’t say it would be exactly destroying,” she replied, looking at him hungrily.

“To finish me off is destruction,” he said sternly.

“But to finish off gingerbread isn’t such a bad thing,” she rejoined, “And I can’t see that it’s cannibalism to eat a boy if he happens to be made of gingerbread and fresh baked. And that frosting looks good. Come, climb up on the table, while I whet my appetite.”

He tried to run, but the strong woman grabbed him by the arm, and soon had a firm hold on both of his arms, and heaved him up onto the table, where he saw that she had a large empty dish beside a picnic basket which was still packed.

She placed him on the dish and then took firm hold of one of his legs.

“I dare say you won’t be trying to run away again, once your leg is in my tummy,” she said, and bit into his leg.

He felt a tingling, as she bit off his foot. There was no pain, but his foot was being chewed up in her mouth, even as he watched. It would do him no good to be turned back into a meat boy now. The meat foot would surely be missing, just as the gingerbread foot was gone.

“Please stop eating me!” he cried, as she swallowed his foot in stages and leaned down and bit into his shoulder.

“Your half baked ideas about escaping won’t do you any good now,” she said, and began to bite mouthful after mouthful from his arms, his legs, and then his body, until only his head was left.

“Most of me is in your tummy!” he said, “You’ve no idea what it feels like to lose so much of oneself!”

“Maybe I don’t, but if you think I’m going to quit while you’re ahead, I’m afraid you’re wrong,” she said, and began biting from his cheek.

When she reached his last eye, he actually saw its journey into her mouth and down into her dark throat.

“A very well bred young man he was too,” she thought happily, and carried her obsolete picnic provisions home in the basket.

Hundreds of years earlier, in the time of Mrs Grimble and the others, two eight year old  boys named Snip and Lemuel found and climbed the beanstalk and emerged in Mrs Grimble’s garden. They walked a little way and hid themselves in the garden, just near the top of the beanstalk. Shortly afterwards they saw a giant woman and a normal sized woman coming out of the castle. The giantess was carrying the normal sized woman on what seemed like a normal sized swing with a long piece of rope (or giant string) tied to the top of the swing support.

“Thank you for agreeing to help me, Mrs Grimble,” said the normal sized woman, as the giantess approached the top of the beanstalk.

“You’re welcome, Mrs Weaver,” said the giantess Mrs Grimble, “I think it will be beneficial for both of us. Just give a tug on the rope, when the time comes, and I’ll hear the bell.”

Mrs Grimble farewelled the normal sized Mrs Weaver, and lowered her down on the swing, beside the beanstalk, presumably until she reached the bottom. Mrs Grimble ran the other end of the string over a sapling and hung a bell on it. The slightest pull from below would make the bell ring audibly to Mrs Grimble, when she was back inside her castle.

The two boys waited until the giantess had gone inside, and then set off to explore the giant land separately. Lemuel headed out towards the edge of the valley, while Snip went into the forest, passed a giant berry patch and kept walking. Deep in the forest, he came upon a gigantic woman.

“Well, if it isn’t another little boy!” she said, “How do you like the berries?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have any,” said the boy, “I’m Snip.”

“Just as well,” she said, reaching down and picking him up, “I’m Olda, and I made short work of the last little boy I caught in my berry patch. It so happens I have a job for you to do before I let you go.”

She began walking with him enclosed in her giant fingers. Snip was rather curious to know what she meant by the phrase “short work.”

“What happened to the other boy?” he asked at last, after working up the nerve to overcome his apprehensions.

“I swallowed him alive,” she said, “He went down to my tummy and his tasty meat became part of it. That’s exactly where you’ll be if you give me any cheek.”

Snip was still in the giantess’s hand, which was rather close to her huge stomach. He looked at it with a strange fascination beginning to form in his mind. No adventure he could ever have contemplated before seemed to excite him as much as the thought of this giant woman going ahead with her threat to swallow him whole. He gaped up at her neck and her mouth. Then he realised the folly of his thoughts. The effects would be far more serious for him than they would for the giantess. He decided that he had better find out what job she had in mind for him, and get it over with as quickly as possible.

Olda reached her giant house, took him inside, and set him down on a table beside a huge pile of giant buttons.

“As you can see, these buttons are not easy for my fingers to pick up,” she said, “I want you to sort them all into separate piles, according to their colours. See that you do it quickly and properly, or I’ll warm you in my oven and swallow you whole for my dinner!”

The giantess sat down on the other side of the room to read. Snip was able to look across at her relaxed indulgence, as she left this threat hanging over him. He began tossing the buttons across the table into colour grouped piles, and frequently turning to look over at the giant woman’s tummy.

In the meantime, Lemuel came to the outskirts of a giant school. Soon he was found by a school girl, who picked him up.

“I must take you to the headmistress’s office,” said the girl, “It’s a school rule she made, that all tiny boys the size of our thumbs should be taken to her office.”

The girl took him to the headmistress’s office. The headmistress was beautiful.

“Mrs Grande, I found this little boy in the school gardens,” she said, “I brought him here to be eaten by you, according to the school rules.”

“Good girl,” said Mrs Grande, “You’re the first one to catch a boy, since I instituted that rule. You’ll get a merit card at the end of the week. You may go now.”

“Thank you,” said the girl and left.

“Why do you want to eat me?” asked Lemuel.

“I consider it a widow’s treat,” said Mrs Louise Grande.

“How would you like it if you were my size?” asked Lemuel.

“Confidentially, since you’ll never tell anyone, I was once your size, a teacher on a school in your own world in fact. I came here and became a giant headmistress. You’re going to be eaten, simply because you’re delicious. It’s convenient timing, that the girl found you during lunch hour, don’t you think?”

Mrs Grande picked him up, tilted her head back and opened her mouth wide, partly extending her tongue, and slid the boy down her sloping tongue and back up again, in and out of her mouth. It was the most extraordinairy feeling, and the view was mind boggling.

Suddenly, he felt her fingers releasing their hold on his legs, and he slid permanently into her mouth. He lay on her tongue, amazed that this was happening to him, and then felt her head moving again. She was tilting it back with Lemuel in her mouth. He wrapped his arms around her tongue, hoping to gain some sort of grip, that would prevent him from sliding into her throat, when her lips were pointed towards the ceiling, but it was impossible. Slowly but surely, he slid into the top of her throat.

This woman, by her own admission, was one of his own people, who had set up her own unique opportunity to do this to him and any other boy found on the school’s premises. Unbelievably, he felt the incredible power of a throat which surrounded him drawing him slowly deeper into it.

The whole process took several minutes, and then he found himself inescapably trapped in her tummy.

Snip was beginning to tire of his extensive work on the sorting of the buttons, a task which was by no means finished. The more he looked at the giantess Olda, the more he felt that there would be two benefits in failing to finish the task. Did he really want to provoke the giantess into fulfilling what would be a new and fairly temporary fantasy for him?

At last Snip committed himself to the outcome she had warned him about. He stood up and called over to her.

“I’m not doing any more work for you!” he said.

“Are you sure about that?” asked the giantess, putting down her book and rising from the chair, “You know what I’ll do to you, don’t you?”

“I don’t care!” he said defiantly, “Go ahead and eat me!”

“Very well then,” she said sternly, “You’ve brought this upon yourself!”

He saw the giantess walk towards the table, saw the strength in her huge arms as she approached, and saw her open hand reaching towards him on the table. Olda picked him up and took him to the kitchen and put him into the oven.

“You can stay there until it’s almost time for dinner. Then I’ll warm you up in there, and after that, you’ll make a nice meal for me.”

Back on earth, a six year old schoolboy named Keenan was once again caught misbehaving in class by his teacher Mrs Weaver. Instead of showing him any anger this time, she pretended to let the matter pass. At the end of the day, she spoke to the boy.

“Keenan, after school tomorrow, I’d like you to meet me outside the back gate of the school. I’ll give you a ride in my horse and cart.”

Evening came, and Snip saw Olda return to the kitchen and walk over towards the oven. Then he heard a slight sound of a heating element turned on low, and saw the oven begin to light up a little. He watched as Olda walked around the kitchen, preparing to make a delicious meal of him. Snip knew that his decision was irreversible now, but was not regretting it one little bit. He could hardly wait for this woman to swallow him.

He looked at her tummy and thought, “Soon I’ll be IN there. Her giant tummy will be all around me. He saw her sitting at the table reading again, and imagined her continuing to do so after she’d eaten him. How fortunate he had been that she had chosen to threaten him in a way that he found so pleasant and exciting.

Olda soon got up, walked over and opened the oven. She lifted him onto a plate and took it to the dining room. There she sat down proudly in front of her relatively small captive and licked her lips.

“I’m sure that by now, you must be sorry that you disobeyed me,” she said.

“I’m not,” said the boy.

“Well you soon will be,” said Olda, and began licking Snip with her enormous pink tongue.

The boy enjoyed this immensely, and then saw her hold him up to her eyes.

“How old are you, Snip?” she asked.

“Eight,” he said.

“You’re a lot younger than the other boy was. Nils was 19, and he ate berries from my patch. Why don’t you just say you’re sorry, finish sorting the buttons and wait for me to let you go?”

“I won’t,” said Snip.

 “Well you can’t say I haven’t given you every chance,” she said, “Anyone would think you wanted to be eaten.”

Snip remained silent, while she stared at him relentlessly. Then he saw a sudden look of surprise in her eyes.

“Is that it?” she asked, but this time she spoke without opening her mouth, exactly as a ventriloquist would do, “You DO want to be eaten, don’t you? It’s unheard of! Please tell me honestly, little Snip. Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” said Snip.

“Why, may I ask, would you want me to eat you?” asked Olda, still without opening her mouth.

“Your tummy looks nice. I’d like to go into it,” said Snip.

“That’s the most unusual reaction I’ve ever had,” said Olda, “You do know that you’ll have to go into my mouth first.”

So this was why she had spoken like a ventriloquist. She had wanted to see whether or not he had been admiring the view of her tongue up until the moment that she had started to speak with a closed mouth.

“That looks nice too,” said Snip, “Except I can’t see inside it when you talk now.”

Then he saw the pretty giantess open her mouth wide with delight and start speaking normally again.

“You’re such a sweet looking little boy. I suppose I really will have to finish those buttons myself now.”

“I will sort them for you, if you still eat me anyway,” said Snip, as she lowered him to a position in front of her lips.

Olda smiled and ran the tip of her tongue around his upper body and neck and cheeks.

“It’s a bargain,” she said, “You can consider yourself eaten.”

She sat at the table and talked with him while he went to work on the buttons. He explained to her, in the language of an eight year old boy, how her first account of what happened to Nils had begun to stir unusual yearnings in him, and how it had built to the anticipation that he had gleefully enjoyed in the oven.

Finally the buttons were sorted. She placed open small bags beside the table in turn, and used her hand to sweep each pile of buttons into a separate bag.

“Thank you, Snip,” she said, “If you haven’t changed your mind, it must be past time for an enjoyable meal for both of us. Do you still want me to eat you?”

“Yes please,” said Snip, “Do you still want to eat me?”

“I’d love to eat you very much,” said Olda, “You’re the most extraordinairy little boy I’ve ever caught. I know you’re going to be a wonderful meal for me.”

Olda took him to the table, licked him again, and then slid him into her mouth and swallowed him. He reached her tummy with pre-adolescent ecstasy and snuggled against its inner flesh. He thought back to the outer views of that tummy, to the warnings she had given him, and to the reaction of adoration she had given him after learning of his true intentions, until he tingled into nothingness.

The next day, Mrs Weaver met Keenan after school. Almost nobody used the back gate, and they were not noticed as they departed in Mrs Weaver’s cart, with the horses pulling it. She stopped the cart a fair way from the school in front of the beanstalk, which had a swing beside it.

Mrs Weaver invited Keenan to sit on the swing, and began to push it for a while, and then gave a strong tug on the rope above his head. High up in Brobdingnag, Mrs Grimble heard the bell ringing in her garden, walked out and began to slowly pull on the rope.

“Hold on tight,” said Mrs Weaver, as the swing carried the boy up out of her reach..

Keenan looked out, as the views of the countryside became more apparent to him, and he felt himself being carried up on the swing beside the static beanstalk. Eventually the swing was lifted through the clouds and into a giant garden, where he saw a beautiful giant lady.

“My name is Mrs Grimble. I’ve been engaged by Mrs Weaver to punish the naughtiest boys in her class. You must be one of them, or you wouldn’t be here now,” she said.

“I was naughty yesterday, I guess. But I thought she was letting me off,” said Keenan.

“It would have been harder to bring you here if she hadn’t let you think that,” said Mrs Grimble.

“What is the punishment going to be?” asked Keenan.

“Mrs Weaver has asked me to do something which I think will not only be a punishment for you, but will also be a great pleasure for me,” said Mrs Grimble, “I shall send my young Jack to the house next door, and then have you for tonight’s dinner. Mrs Weaver will have one less problem student in her class, and I will enjoy the meal I intend to make of you.”

It had all been planned far too effectively for Keenan to be able to get out of his predicament. He was soon resting on Mrs Grimble’s kitchen bench, until the giant woman was ready to take him to the table and eat him. He thought about the astounding news he had just learned. Mrs Weaver had actually decided that the most severe and most unexpected of punishments would be the means of solving the discipline problem in her class. To that end she had employed a giantess who ate boys for her own enjoyment in order to dispense the disciplinary measure.  

Only at the beginning of that day, he had not even imagined that a giantess could have existed. Now he was going to be quite literally eaten by one. Mrs Grimble seemed quite amicable about the whole affair, which was not so surprising, he realised. After all, it had been Mrs Weaver whom his behaviour had annoyed in class. To Mrs Grimble, he realised, he was not the annoyance, but the pleasure to be enjoyed as she gobbled him down her eager throat.

As he made his way into Mrs Grimble’s mouth, he thought back to his previous conflicts with Mrs Weaver and knew that she’d won this one for sure. As he reached Mrs Grimble’s tummy, he wondered if she might well have eaten him, regardless of his guilt, if she’d had the opportunity.

One of the countries surrounding the Marvelous Land of Oz was the Kingdom of Ev. Its young Prince Evered and his friend Carter Green decided to go for a long journey through Ev on foot, exploring the outer regions of the kingdom, where no citizen had previously ventured.

After days and days of wandering, they came to a group of giant trees, and saw two huge giantesses, a mother and a daughter approaching.

“Giants!” choked Evered, and swinging around like a pivot, raced off in the opposite direction.

But the giants had already seen them. There were two of the huge creatures, a mother and a daughter beginning to gain on them.

“Mother! Mother!” shrieked the teenaged giantess, “See that delicious little boy!”

Before the luckless travellers had time to plan, think or act, a great hand came snatching downward and seized Prince Evered, just as Carter Green managed to duck out of sight.

“I’ll have to go after them,” thought Carter, and began to wonder about the giantess’s use of the word “delicious”.

Just before he had hidden himself, Carter had noticed that the mother giantess looked very beautiful. As he followed the giants at top speed, he noticed that there didn’t seem to be any male giants. He surmised, that somehow these giantesses had daughters without any help.

Soon large and disturbing signs began to appear on both sides of the road:

THIS COUNTRY BELONGS TO THE BIG WIGS. KEEP OUT.

“They must be the giants,” thought Carter.

Soon he came to a grand sign that gave him the town’s name: Immense City. He ran after the mother and daughter until they came to their house and took Prince Evered inside.

Sneaking in after them, he heard the mother say, “He IS delicious, but you found him. Put him in the cage in your room, and you can eat him tomorrow for lunch. I’ll catch one another day.”

As the mother and daughter separated, Carter followed the daughter into her room, and saw the girl put Prince Evered into a cage positioned so high up that Carter could never hope to climb or reach it. Then Carter was amazed at what he saw. The teenaged giantess removed a wig of long hair, which revealed her to be a short haired girl underneath.

Once the girl had put the wig down on the carpet, she shrank down to his own size and climbed into a normal sized bed. Carter Green had discovered the secret of the Big Wigs. They were only giants while wearing the wigs. Carter waited for the girl to fall asleep, and then snuck over to the discarded wig, which had also shrunken to the size of a normal wig. Carter put it onto his head, grew to giant size and took Prince Evered out of his cage. He walked out into the hallway, and came face to face with the girl’s mother.

“Just what are you doing in my house, and how dare you steal my daughter’s wig,” said the mother.

“I’m only freeing my friend, and then you shall have your daughter’s wig back,” said Carter, “While I wear it, I too am a giant, and you cannot stop me.”

“Then I suppose you must leave,” said the Big Wig Mother.

“Yes, but as soon as I have taken Prince Evered well out of Immense City, I will return your wig to you and remove it. I think you have a very beautiful mouth, and I am prepared to make myself available to you for eating me. Prince Evered has no wish to be eaten, and I must insist on saving him. I on the other hand, would consider it a wonderful experience to be one of your upcoming meals.”

“You’re too kind,” said the Big Wig Mother, and kissed his cheek.

Against Prince Evered’s protestations for Carter Green’s safety, Carter set the Prince loose well away from Immense City, and then returned to the Big Wig Mother after what had been a lengthy evening walk.

“I had my doubts that you’d be back, but you kept your word,” said the Big Wig Mother.

“I had no need to make you such a promise, while expanded to giant size myself,” said Carter.

“I see your logic. I’m sorry. I should have believed you fully,” said the Big Wig Mother, “I’ve eaten a few captives before, but you’re the first one to willingly surrender to it. Would you like to cuddle me for a while first? My daughter won’t wake. There’s plenty of time to eat you before morning.”

He accepted her offer and snuggled against her on the couch for some time, and then removed his wig and shrank, so that she could kiss him at her giant size first. Finally he invited her to enjoy the meal, and was lifted up and lowered into her satisfied mouth and gulped down.

One pleasant day in Brobdingnag, Alice went walking for some time until she came to an open restaurant table in a beautiful garden. She was soon introduced to the owner/waitress, a giantess (Alice’s own current size) named Fronda.

“A customer at last,” said Fronda, “Would you like to sit down and order?”

Alice sat down and examined the menu. Some of the items seemed fairly familiar, but there was one which she had never even heard of before, let alone eaten. It was listed as Ric Cotter.

“Have you decided yet?” asked Fronda.

“What is the Ric Cotter?” asked Alice.

“We only have one of those, but it’s been available, ever since it arrived, as nobody has ordered it yet,” said Fronda, “It’s made of meat. Would you like to have a look at it?”

“Yes please,” said Alice.

“You heard the young lady, Ric,” said Fronda.

There was a small box shaped object on the far end of the table, which had not caught Alice’s attention so far. Now a tiny door opened on it, and out of it stepped a teenaged boy who was the same size as she had been before her discovery of Wonderland, Looking-Glass Land and Brobdingnag. The boy walked across the tablecloth, until he stopped right in front of Alice.

“Good afternoon, Richard Cotter at your service,” he said politely, and then, inspecting her from top to tummy, he added in a doubtful voice, “I must say I was expecting somebody a little more enthusiastic.”

“Enthusiastic,” Alice repeated, “But why?”

“Because I’m fully ready to be eaten,” the boy replied, “Will you be able to eat me all? That’s what I’d like to know. For I don’t fancy having part of me left behind.”

Alice tried to speak, but she could only sit and gasp. She had occasioned in the past, to satisfy her hunger with the pursuit of small boys from her original homeland. As a child, she had been told by her governess to eat up all her food, but she had never been so instructed by the food itself. It was a unique opportunity that now presented itself to her.

“I promise I’ll do my best, and keep at it until you’re all gone” she managed to say at last, “And I’ll be sure to keep you in one portion, so that you go down all at once.”

“Well I can’t ask fairer than that, can I?” said the boy in a kindlier tone of voice.

“So how do you come to be here asking me to eat you?” asked Alice.

“I came to this land through a hole, a Wonderland, and a Looking-Glass Land,” said Ric.

“Why so did I,” said Alice, “I was once your size too. We must be fellow citizens of England.”

“Most assuredly,” said Ric, “A giant lady helped me to go from the dolls house on this other side of the Looking-Glass out into Brobdingnag.”

“It must have been before I came. I do that task myself now. I usually only eat boys when I’m frightfully hungry, but I’m happy to take you on in this case.”

“It’s about time,” said Ric, “I came and offered my services as a main course to Fronda, but not one of these giantesses has been interested in eating me. To think that a young lady from my own country is now a giantess and is the first girl to provide the kind of appetite that I have been seeking.”

Alice began briefly to wonder about the likelihood of eating someone who had so politely offered himself to her and then decided to go ahead with it.

Fronda left them to talk for a while, and then Alice daintily placed the tiny boy into her mouth and slowly began to gulp. When she had swallowed the boy, she thanked the owner/waitress, and then got up to leave.

“Don’t you have any distinction?” asked Fronda, “I was expecting a tip at least.”

“Well I suppose you could change the colour of the table cloth,” said Alice.

“That’s an excellent tip. Thank you. I hadn’t thought of that,” said Fronda, “I’m glad you enjoyed your meal. I’m sure that Ric enjoyed it too.”

Alice left the curious restaurant and returned home.

In the months ahead, Mrs Weaver’s most well behaved boy, named Stanley, noticed that a number of naughty boys had simply not turned up to classes on particular days, never to be seen again. Mrs Weaver herself was a divorced and subsequently widowed woman, who was disinclined to show any mercy to her more rebellious students. Some divorcees had asked God to heal them of the damage of their broken marriages, and been able to go on and enjoy happy lives and even successful second marriages. Others had left their wounds untreated, and become bitter and unwilling to trust anyone again.

At times Mrs Weaver even envied the giantess Mrs Grimble and did not relish the fact that she had to farm the pleasure of eating her naughty students out to someone who was big enough to do it.

One day Stanley was sitting in the gardens of the school, in a favourite place where he was surrounded and concealed by plants and left to himself undisturbed. Then he heard Mrs Weaver’s voice coming from the other side of the garden.

“You won’t get away, little boy! You’re going to be the first goblin in my tummy!”

Crouching down low, he peeked across, looking between plants and saw a tiny being running between flowers, and saw Mrs Weaver crawling after the goblin boy until she caught him. Had she gone any further, she might well have spied Stanley’s hiding place.

“Please let me go!” said the goblin boy, who was in fact one of Sylvie’s and Bruno’s people.

“I don’t think so, little boy,” said Mrs Weaver, “You don’t have any recognised rights in this school at your size. I’m going to eat you all up.”

As Mrs Weaver forced the goblin into her mouth, Stanley looked on in awe. Not once did he consider the unfairness in the behaviour of a teacher who had always enforced good behaviour in her class. He wasn’t confused by the incongruence of her actions. She had claimed that, from her perspective, the tiny goblin did not have any arguable right not to be eaten, and she was just doing with him as she saw fit. The entire scene had been so captivating to Stanley, that he envied the goblin. How he would have liked to have been in that goblin’s place.

Instead he would remain a normal sized student boy who came up to some height about halfway between Mrs Weaver’s knees and her thighs. He would continue on has her student, and she would never look upon him as that appealingly tasty tiny being that she had just eaten. Stanley saw Mrs Weaver stand up and make her way out of the garden with the goblin boy now in her tummy and walk off.

After school he began the short walk home, and kept thinking back to the amazing sight of Mrs Weaver’s tongue hanging out of her mouth and the goblin boy being lowered onto it.

“What’s the matter? You look unhappy,” said a much older girl, who was almost an adult.

She was walking towards him.

“I don’t know,” said Stanley.

What he really meant was that he didn’t know how to explain it to her.

“Do you mean you don’t want to tell me?” asked the girl.

“No. I want to tell you,” said Stanley.

“Well I want to listen. I’m Alice,” said the girl and began walking with him in his direction, “Why don’t you try to explain why you’re so unhappy?”

He told her the whole story in depth.

“I understand very well how you feel,” said Alice, “I recently met a little boy who encouraged me to eat him, and I enjoyed doing it. I would like to do everything I can to help you to be mistaken for a goblin and eaten by your teacher. I’ll need to get something, but I can give it to you tomorrow, and I’m sure that it will solve your problem for you.”

Alice arranged to meet the boy outside the school during recess break the following morning. In the meantime, she went back to the Robert Hole, where she had first followed the White Robert down into Wonderland. She collected some of the Wonderland cake, which she knew would have the effect of shrinking Stanley, and took it back to him the next morning during recess. She explained that eating some of it would make him tiny for a while, and gave it to him.

“If it works, I’ll never see you again,” said Alice, hugging him, “I’m glad to help.”

At lunch time that day, Stanley concealed himself in the same isolated garden again, and hoped that Mrs Weaver would assume that she would find more goblins there if she made another search. Soon enough he saw her crossing the school grounds, heading into the little used part of the school gardens where his own personal hiding place was. He quickly ate some of the cake and left the rest wrapped up in the garden. Before he knew it he was shrinking down to the size of the goblin that she had eaten the day before.

Peeking out, he could see Mrs Weaver drawing closer.

“She’s come out here to hunt for goblins and catch one and eat him,” he thought, “And now she’ll hunt for me.”

Stanley was exhilarated beyond words as he saw her towering form get closer. She veered a little to the side, as she reached the garden. He realised that she was going to look in the same section where she had caught and eaten the goblin the day before. There were far fewer large concealing shrubs there, and many more small flowers. He ran into that section of the garden, and now had no trouble looking up out at Mrs Weaver as she walked around, about six or seven feet away from the garden and stared in.

“If there had been another goblin here, she wouldn’t stop until she found him,” thought Stanley, “It probably won’t take her the rest of lunch hour to find me.”

He moved closer towards the grass, so that he would make himself more visible to her. Then he stopped between two flowers, where there was enough space to make him visible and looked up out at Mrs Weaver. She was looking slightly to the right of him, but her eyes were panning in his direction. Soon she would see him.

He watched as her gaze arced around and came upon him.

“I see you, little boy,” she said with satisfaction, “I caught a little one like you for my lunch here yesterday, but I have different plans for you.”

“So you aren’t going to have me for lunch?” he asked, beginning to wonder if he would ever be able to realise what had become so compelling for him over the last 24 hours.

“No I’m not,” said Mrs Weaver, and began to step forward and bend down to reach in for him, “My name is Mrs Weaver and I’m going to take you home with me and eat you for my dinner.”

He was elated as her hand closed around him and lifted him out of the garden. She had no idea that he was one of her best behaved students, and was looking on him with the same dining prejudice as she had looked upon the real goblin.

“You were wise not to run away,” she said.

“I could never get away from you, Mrs Weaver,” said Stanley, enjoying his role more than ever.

“Indeed you could not. I would fetch you back in no time. Now I need to hide you in my desk, while I teach my afternoon class. If you make any noise to give yourself away, I shall slip you into my mouth, unseen by anyone else and gulp you down on the spot. Can I trust you to be quiet?”

“Yes Mrs Weaver.”

“You’re very sensible.”

She took him to her desk and taught the afternoon classes, reacting audibly to the apparent absence of his Stanley persona. What he did not know was that ‘Stanley’s’ absence from the class surprised her more than anyone else. The others were getting used to student disappearances, but Mrs Weaver had been responsible for all of the other absences. She began to wonder if Mrs Grimble had somehow made her way to this area to hunt for more boys to eat. Then she dismissed it, and guessed that Stanley might have simply gone home sick.

How delighted Stanley was to see her face, when she opened the desk drawer after the others had gone.

“My students have all left for the day,” she said, “If you were their size, I’d willingly teach you too, and if any one of them were your size, I’d eat him up with no regrets. It’s as simple as that. Yesterday’s goblin was delicious, and I’m sure you will be too.”

Sitting at her desk, she lifted him out of the drawer and brought him towards her mouth. As she had said that he would be taken home for dinner, he wondered what she was doing now. When he was about two inches from her face, he saw her tongue coming out of her mouth, and realised with glee that Mrs Weaver was going to lick him!

It was beyond his wildest dreams of the previous afternoon (until he had spoken to Alice, and even afterwards) to see and feel a tongue a little larger than his entire shrunken body, as it slid over his face and shoulders to his great delight.

“You taste different, better in fact,” she said at last.

She hadn’t guessed that his different taste was because he was not a goblin but a shrunken student. Mrs Weaver carried him out to her horse and cart and climbed aboard.

“The ride could be very bumpy and uncomfortable for someone your size,” she said, “I’m not sure I have anywhere soft to put you.”

“Could I please ride on your tongue? It’s very soft,” said Stanley.

“That’s a good idea,” said Mrs Weaver, “It will be a nice prelude for dinner for me too.”

She opened her mouth and let him climb onto her tongue and make himself comfortable while she rode the cart home. Once inside she took him out and left him on a bench while she went about her chores. Then she stood and warmed him in a small pot on her stove and took him to the dining table.

“Alright little goblin boy, I’m going to gobble you down now. I’d like to thank you for being more polite and cooperative than my lunch was yesterday. It’ll be easier eating someone who knows his position in the food chain.”

“What does that mean?” asked Stanley, who was too young to have heard the expression.

“Well many beings eat different things. You probably ate small vegetation in the garden. That vegetation is at the bottom of the food chain. I, on the other hand, eat little goblins like you. There’s a chain of eating or being eaten which runs from the vegetation to you to me. I’m at the top of the food chain. I eat more meals than you and I last longer. It seems unfair from your perspective, but to mine, it’s natural. I don’t look upon you as an enemy, but merely as a highly enjoyable meal to be eaten.

“I don’t think you’re an enemy either, Mrs Weaver. I think I must just be the right size to be nice food for you, and I’m too small to stop you or to escape.”

“That’s right. Well thank you for talking so politely about it, but I won’t be talking any more. It’s time for me to enjoy having you for my dinner. You’ll taste nice when you’re in my mouth. You’ll feel nice when you’re in my throat, and you’ll be nice when you’re down there in my tummy. Goodbye little boy. Now I’m going to eat you all up.”

She still had no idea that she was talking to someone she’d taught as usual that morning, someone who had been one of her best students. Ironically, he had no idea that he could have misbehaved for her and ended up as the giantess Mrs Grimble’s meal instead of as hers. Nor did Mrs Weaver have any idea that he had witnessed her previous culinary conquest in the garden and used Alice’s Wonderland cake to trick her into thinking that he was another goblin bound for her stomach. He never thought of the lost opportunities of being a grown up himself one day. This was his dream come true, and it was happening right now.

Mrs Weaver opened her mouth, licked him again, slid him into her mouth and eventually gulped him down in successive stages, and felt her tummy benefit from his presence.

The school had begun to take in new students to replace the ones who had disappeared. Mrs Weaver searched the garden regularly, but had been unable to find any other goblins. She wondered if the two that she had caught had been outliers, who had strayed far from their home, wherever that was. One day another of Mrs Weaver’s students, named Hirum, was kicking his football on the lawn, when he accidentally kicked it into the garden where Stanley used to spend his lunch hours in seclusion.

This particular lunch hour had only been going for five minutes. Hirum crawled into the garden and found his football. Then he noticed some food wrapping and unwrapped it. Pleased to have discovered some cake, he ate it and then suddenly found himself shrinking.

He had no idea how it had been possible, but it had. He was now the most minute boy in the school. He wandered through the garden until he heard footsteps on the grass and a familiar voice:

“If you goblins are hiding in there, I’m still going to find you and eat you.”

It was Mrs Weaver!

“She thinks there are goblins in here,” he thought, “Maybe they left this shrinking cake behind. Maybe it’s what keeps them small, but now it’s made me small too. I’d better hide.”

He did his best to stay concealed, but he had to stay on the move, to avoid Mrs Weaver’s continued searching tactics. Before long, she discovered him, and stepped in to cut off his escape. She reached down and grabbed him.

“I’ve had one of you for lunch and one for dinner. I think you’ll make an excellent afternoon tea.”

“But Mrs Weaver, it’s me, Hirum. I ate some cake and shrank,” he said.

Mrs Weaver took a close look at him.

“Then why did you hide from me for so long, Hirum?”

“I don’t know,” he stammered.

“I think you do know, Hirum. I think you ran and hid, because you knew very well that I would enjoy eating a tiny student just as much as I enjoyed eating the goblins.”

Hirum realised that she was right. She had been his teacher for months, but would now treat him as her captive to be eaten.

“Is this what happened to all the naughty boys?” he asked.

“In a way,” said Mrs Weaver.

“But I’ve always been good,” said Hirum.

“And again I point out that you only ran and hid because you knew that it wouldn’t make any difference to me,” said Mrs Weaver.

“It’s true,” said Hirum, “Will you be gentle with me, when I’m in your nice looking mouth?”

“I always am, but your days in my class are over. You’re a mouthful of meat now, Hirum. I’ll put you in my desk during afternoon classes, and then you’ll have to be my afternoon tea.”

“Alright,” said Hirum, unable to prevent it.

He waited the afternoon in her desk and then saw the light coming in again and Mrs Weaver’s towering face.

“It’s afternoon tea time, Hirum,” she said, lifted him out of the desk and tilted her head back and held him over her gaping maw.

“Oh Mrs Weaver, it looks so pretty and so dangerous in there,” he said.

“I’m really not concerned. Goodbye Hirum,” said Mrs Weaver mercilessly and lowered him into her mouth and swallowed him.

As she was riding her cart home, she began recalling the events of that lunch hour, and began to wonder about the day that Stanley had disappeared. She had found and eaten a polite goblin that day. The more she thought of it, the more she realised that there had been something familiar about that goblin boy. She wondered if Stanley had also eaten the cake, and whether or not she had eaten Stanley.