As a teenager, Percy helped the local church people to set up a small Saturday evening restaurant at the church, using its coffee room under the different name of Bite Delight. For some months the restaurant was a successful venue for Christian musicians to entertain diners; and provided a chance for guest speakers to preach the word of God to an audience who might be unlikely to attend the Sunday church services. The serenity of this atmosphere was soon disrupted by a gang of teenage vandals, who did everything they could to destroy the work of the church.

There was one delightful night when they failed to put in an appearance. It seemed that they had found other pastures to pervert on this one Saturday night of reprieve, after so many awful experiences. Percy, who usually stayed indoors in the restaurant in order to avoid being bullied by the vandals, decided to talk to the people who were congregating under the moonlight in the gardens of the church. If the vandals returned that night, to keep up their weekly record of destructive achievements, he could always head for the door, as soon as he saw them coming; but for the moment he would be happy. As he approached a group of teenage boys and girls, he saw one more reason to perhaps be happier: a beautiful girl, whose incredible full shapely lips and greater height all unwittingly played up to the giantess vore fantasy which had grown much stronger in his mind with the onset of adolescence. She had a  haughty confident look, which made her far more arousing than any of the other ladies who had been in his hopes and dreams in the past. The irony was that it would also most likely make her unwilling to match their friendliness and interest in him.

The girl was very pretty, and almost as tall as Jenny would probably have grown to be by that stage in his teenage life.

Ingrid Castlecove's haughty dignified penetrating beauty had an arousing glamour, which made him instantly wish that she was already in love with him and willing and able to shrink and eat him. He attempted to meet the impression she gave him with an artificially confident dignity of his own, as they exchanged their full names. (Days later, he would use the surname to find the only Castlecove of Wahroonga in the telephone book).

He reached to stroke her hair uninvited, hoping to convey a sense of bravery, but this fell to pieces, when he could think of no appropriate words with which to accompany the gesture.

"You're a little short to be attempting something so bold, aren't you?" she said with a carefree attempt to tease him.

"I like big tall girls," he said with a truth that nearly contradicted the falsity of his feigned show of confidence.

Her greater height (already six feet) would make her the most amazing giantess of all, if he was reduced to tiny size. She was already taller than him.

"I like sweets," she said, contemptuously dipping her hand into his open pocket, which she had noticed to be full of lollies.

"Have some," he offered, wondering if it had the slightest chance of impressing her.

"I intend to," she said, removing a huge handful that almost entirely exhausted his supplies. Ingrid used her free hand to put one of them into her mouth, and then transferred the rest of them to her own pocket.

The sight of her mouth receiving the lolly drove him wild, and the last thing he could do was tell her why, lest he be surely laughed out of her life.

It had been easy for girls to do things like that to him in those days. The teenage Percy had to let her take his lollies with a ninety-nine per cent certainty that it would not make the slightest improvement on his chances of attracting her.

"I don't suppose those sweets would be worth a sweet kiss," he suggested.

"They might be worth it, but you aren't," she mocked.

She took out another of his lollies, and kissed it.

"There!" she said, and ate the lolly.

What little remained of his forced confidence was blown to bits, as she saw him burst into tears. She seemed to enjoy this and smiled cruelly at him before laughing in a way that made her seem as beautiful as she was unkind. She would have flattered herself with the thought that he had run into the church, because he could not face up to any more of her taunting. The truth was that his tearful eyes had seen the approach of the vandals.

*          *          *          *

Later that evening in Percy's teenage years, the church people closed the restaurant and went to Wahroonga's all night service station to buy some cold drinks for themselves. Percy enjoyed his drink and then walked home. As he passed the church, he saw that the vandals were smoking cigarettes in the church gardens, and allowing their cigarette lighters to burn the leaves a little before putting out their miniature fires with the church hose.

"I hear you made a pass at my girlfriend tonight," said the tallest of them, blocking Percy's path. He was an inch taller than Ingrid had been.

"Who is your girlfriend?" asked Percy.

"She pointed you out to us when you took off, just as we arrived," said the boy, "She is Ingrid Castlecove."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I did not know that she had a boyfriend. I guess you're very lucky that she likes you," said Percy.

"And you would be lucky not to get pounded, if you didn't come to this restaurant ever again."

"I work here with the church," said Percy, "and the police won't like what you have done to our leaves."

"I've had enough of you!" said the boy, jarring Percy's shoulder with a sharp hook punch. Percy tried to parry the next one, but the boy knocked his arm away.

"Don't fight back," said the bully.

He could only have thanked the Lord for the courage to say what he mouthed next, as well as the fact that it worked.

"Just one more of those, and I'll walk next door into the rectory, and get you all thrown off this property by an angry woken minister at a late time in the night," said Percy.

The next punch partly winded him.

"Alright," he choked, as he walked towards the rectory.

They actually let him go.

He reached the minister's veranda and pretended to press the bell, to see if they would leave the area.

"The next time we see you on the street you're dead," said the boy, and the group walked away from the church.

"If you plan to assault me again, you had better make sure that you kill me," called Percy, amazed that he had not already awoken the minister, "Otherwise I'll be reporting you and whatever you do to me, to the local police!"

He waited for them to go, and then stole home himself. He had no intention of waking the minister. For to do so would inevitably lead to his grandparents learning of the incident. As well as suffering a lot of worry and concern for his safety, they might well tell him not to risk it, by never going to the restaurant again.

A year later, he had been wearing his finest suit for an early evening walk to the station, and happened to see Ingrid walking through Wahroonga Park with another girl, both wearing the uniforms of a school he knew well. They were probably in his year, but at a girls’ school instead of his boys school.

"You look well-dressed tonight Percy!" Ingrid called.

He didn't know whether the compliment was an attempt to make up, an invitation to talk, or a passing act of politeness. He did not know whether Ingrid was still in love with his unknown assailant or not, and he did not have whatever it took to walk over and find out. His planned train trip for that evening had no particular destination, but his legs just could not diverge into the park. The only thing he did know was that he had recently observed (from a safe distance) some teenagers being arrested for under age consumption of alcohol on a public railway station. He was too far away to see who they were. Maybe Ingrid's partner had found his way into the care of the law. Percy did not know, and some awful fear that the worst could happen to him all over again, prevented him from walking into that park to find out. There he was, lonely.

Something about the entire nonesuch Ingrid affair stood out from the other girls he wished he could have been shrunken and eaten by. He had to tell her of his fantasy, even though he knew she’d tease him all the more. Yet she had seemed friendly this time, without any of the mocking that had been there the previous year. As a matter of fact, she had actually complimented him, initiating discussion in a positive way. He couldn’t expect anyone, least of all someone who teased his apparently ordinairy courtship attempts, to care about his fantasy in the least, but he just knew that he wanted more than anything else in the world, more than ever before in his life, to invent a means of shrinking himself.

He thought back to all that he had learned from James Hamilton. Since then he had added much more high school science knowledge of electronics. There had to be a way. He borrowed every science book he could find from the libraries, both at school and at the local library. He took out all of his electronic kits, tools, equipment and so on, which largely came from birthday and Christmas presents going back several years.

He knew that he had to solve another problem too. Reducing himself was one thing, but how could a shrunken Percy hope to get to the only place where he would be sure to find Ingrid: her school?

It took him three months of building on all his previous failed attempts since age 12, but he finally perfected a machine that would both reduce him in size and teleport him to another location, which he could find by setting coordinates on a viewer. The controls were built down low, so that he could reach them at tiny size. He also built a homing ring which he wore unnoticeably on his finger. Turning it would enable him to send a homing recall signal to the machine. When Ingrid had seen him and scorned his tiny size, he could return to his machine and restore his size. At least he would have the pleasure of looking up to her as a giantess, the largest giantess and the most beautiful and the most mischievous and haughty.

Percy waited for a day when he got home from school early, and then sent himself into the outer gardens of Ingrid’s school at tiny size. He waited in concealment, until he saw Ingrid approaching. She looked so big now, that he had to look up and up to see her. Her dark hair was in a long ponytail. Her lower lip now looked as deep as his tiny face. Her neck would have been about two or three times his height. Even her legs looked like giants themselves to him. He had no idea what he would do, but he was aroused incredibly. 

He let her see him. There were no other girls around at the moment. This was no dream, no imagined fantasy. He had finally managed to shrink himself, and Ingrid was really looking down at him. If nothing else, she could not dismiss his shrinking itself as an impossible fantasy. He stood still as she walked over and leaned down, enclosed him in her fingers and stood up. The feel of her hand was pleasant and stimulating too.

“I don’t know where you came from, but I’m a lot bigger than you are,” she said with the same mocking haughty attitude that he knew so well, “I think we’ll find a private place to talk.”

She went and sat on the lawn at the highest point of the school gardens, close to the street. At last it was just him and her. He had come to the one place that even her boyfriend was not allowed to enter: an all girls school, and at tiny size too.

“So what are you, little one?” she asked.

“How do you mean?” asked Percy.

“I mean what sort of little folk are you a member of? I’ve never met any of your kind before.”

Percy was over the moon. She was talking to him without any recognition. She had hated and scorned the Percy she knew, and at best given him a brief passing compliment on that evening a few months ago. Yet she saw his shrunken self as a different person, someone she had never met, and apparently someone she WAS interested in. He might at least be able to hope for a giant kiss from her.

“I’m just a little boy,” he said.

“Well I’m a big girl,” said Ingrid, “And if I like the taste of you, I’m going to take you home secretly and have you for a special treat in my bedroom late tonight.”

She had said, ‘have you for a special treat.’ Those words did not guarantee an intention of Ingrid’s to eat him, but the phrase ‘if I like the taste of you’ increased the likelihood to around 90 per cent. She might have merely been thinking of licking him for half the night, which would be awe inspiring in itself, but he had to know if he had guessed right.

“Do you mean…?” he asked.

“You know I do,” she teased, arousing him beyond belief, “If you pass the tongue test, you’re going to be eaten whole. You’ll still be getting over the gulping and swallowing, when you’re almost down to my stomach.”

Percy remembered the way she had first helped herself to his lollies with mocking amusement. Now she was doing the same thing to a tiny boy, not knowing it was the owner of those very lollies. How he hoped that he did taste appealing to her tongue, which was clearer than ever to him now that she was holding him close to her face while talking to his tiny self. He could see glimpses of the most magnificent taste organ in history, as she continued speaking.

“Can we find out how I taste quickly then?” he asked.

“I imagine you’re even keener than me to find out,” she said, “Though I doubt you’re hoping for the same test result that I am.”

She would lose that bet, he thought. In any event, the test would give him at least one chance to be touched by her huge tongue.

“What will you do with me if I don’t taste nice?” he asked.

“You’d make a cute pet,” she said, “But let’s not think of that. It only takes a lick to find out, doesn’t it?”

With those wonderful words, Ingrid’s tongue took a respite from speaking and came out of her mouth slowly in front of him. She was deliberately doing it in slow motion, to draw out the suspense of the taste test. He was able to look at a protrusion which was longer and wider than his entire body. It had two sides, but no apparent separation in the middle, just a slight dip where the two sides met. The moist fleshy sparkling appearance of her tongue was the most beautiful thrilling sight he had ever laid eyes on. In mere seconds he would actually feel the touch of it.

She moved him closer and slid her tongue over him. It felt every bit as nice as he’d hoped and more so, particularly as its soft moist taste buds ran over his facial cheeks. Then her tongue retreated back into her mouth. He looked at her eyes and lips for any clue as to her assessment of him.

“What’s the verdict?” he asked.

“I’ll keep you guessing for a while,” she said.

Ingrid put him into her shirt pocket, under her jumper, got up and started walking to the station. She caught a train to Wahroonga, while he lifted himself a little and peeked out between the fibres of her woollen jumper at the scenery outside, and at Ingrid’s long lovely hands resting in her lap.

She alighted at Wahroonga, walked into the park, and sat down in an isolated part and took him from her pocket. She lifted him above her head, tilted it back, and opened her mouth wide and let him look in. He heard soft laughter and looked in at her laughing tongue. It was amazing.

Ingrid lowered him into her mouth a little, so that just his face touched her tongue, and then took him out.

“I did say supper, remember?” she said, “But at least you know I liked you. You’re the most delicious piece of meat I’ve ever tasted in my life. I’m going to gobble you all up at supper time and there’s nothing you can do about it. You can think about that for the next few hours.”

“I will,” he said politely, and then hoped he hadn’t given away his keenness to face the fate that she had planned for him.

“I’m glad to see that you’re nervous enough to point out the obvious,” she laughed, and put him back in her pocket.

Ingrid walked home and took him into her bedroom, unnoticed by her mother.

She let him watch her while she did her homework, and then placed him into a drawer.

“You can stay here, while I have dinner,” she said, “And think about the fact that I won’t enjoy it nearly as much as eating you.”

She closed the drawer and left him in darkness. He lay down on a folded item of clothing and waited for her return after dinner. He thought how pleasantly surprised he was. None of the girls who liked him in his earlier childhood years had had any real interest in eating him outside of his own dreams. Of all the people to be willing to do exactly what he wanted, it was the one girl who had openly disliked him at his full size. Ingrid was going to give him exactly what he’d always wanted, and was doing it with a forceful merciless amusement that made it all the more enjoyable and arousing. This was beyond his wildest hopes. He realised that being eaten in itself would have been thrilling enough, but Ingrid’s taunting enactment made it so much better. She was the one he had waited for all these years, since his six year old self had first dreamt of being eaten ten years ago. He admired what she was doing to him.

Ingrid opened the drawer and he saw that she had changed into a long night gown. She lifted him out of the drawer, put him on the pillow and climbed into bed beside him, with only the bright bedside table reading lamp illuminating them both.

“I’m going to sleep for a while. You can’t get away, so just make yourself comfortable,” she said.

“Could I climb onto your face?” he asked, “It … looks nice and soft.”

“If you like,” said Ingrid.

He climbed onto her chin, and said, “This is a bit hard, because of the bone,” shifted to her cheek, and said, “I might fall off here,” and then having intentionally established reasons for not being able to lie on the other parts of her face, he climbed onto her lower lip, which was roughly the width of his body’s length. 

“Are you comfortable now?” she sighed, moving the very lip he was resting on.

“This is just like a mattress to me,” he said, although it was not as deep as the width of his body.

Percy lay down and enjoyed the feel of her lower lip. It was like a permanent giant kiss, and he had tricked her into having no objection to it. Even her boyfriend would not have these experiences.

Ingrid dozed off and he soon felt her lips rising and falling as she breathed in her sleep. He enjoyed that for three hours, and then she stirred and awoke. Her hand lifted him off her lip and she sat up and yawned right in front of him, giving him another fine view of her mouth.

“Is that reading lamp bright enough for you, or do you want me to turn the bedroom light on?” she asked, “I want you to be able to see where you’re going.”

The audacity of the question was yet another of Ingrid’s thrilling taunts.

“It’s good enough for me,” he said.

“Thank you. I’m flattered,” she laughed, and he realised that she was making a pun on the thought of the experience of being eaten being good for him.

“You’ve really got an awesome sense of humour,” he said.

“Well you must have noticed that I’m beautiful,” she said.

“Yes, very,” said Percy.

“Maybe it will be good for you too,” she said, “But not as good as it will be for me.”

She had no idea. It would almost be worth telling her everything, or at least his identity, but he wanted to take no chances on anything changing her mind.

“I like your lips,” he said.

“I noticed,” she said, “You could have slept on my pillow.”

“You don’t mind?”

“If I did, I would have had no trouble stopping you… And I will have no trouble stopping you from ever going on a date with anyone. I’ll have the chance to go on and have a lengthy happy life, and you are going into my tummy … right now. Farewell, little boy.”

With those strangely stimulating ramifications still in his mind, he watched her tongue come out and lick him again and again. Being played with like a morsel of food by her beautiful mouth, without her having a care in the world was an experience that trivialised anything that had happened or not happened with Miss Newkin, Ilona, Ingrid Castlecove and the Wanderer Woman of Wahroonga.

“Well I’m ready to send you on your way,” she said at last, “But at the moment you’ll only taste of my own tongue water.”

She rubbed him on her bare shoulder a few times, and then reached for a cloth to wipe it. Then she opened her mouth wide in front of him. He looked inside in eager expectation. He could see into the top of a throat which would have no trouble gulping his tiny body down.

“Here comes the aeroplane,” she mused, and opened wide again and slid him onto her tongue.

He loved the combination of horizontal comfort and moist stimulation as he lay there for several minutes, until she suddenly angled her tongue. Within seconds he felt himself sliding into her throat. He could feel her throat all around him. This too was pleasant, but the blood was beginning to rush to his head.

Ingrid relieved his concern, by gulping several times, and he soon found himself in the dark tunnel of flesh that would curve its way down to her stomach. Then something occurred to him.

So intent on his fantasy was he, so pleasantly surprised at Ingrid’s willingness to fulfil it without even knowing it was he, that he had not even considered what would follow. Ingrid’s plan had been to digest him, which would have involved a lot of tingles, and then the absence of dating and other pleasures of life, just as she had detailed. 

Yet now his fantasy had been realised, and he could go on to enjoy those other things. Percy suddenly realised the obvious fact that his homing ring would be able to send him out of her stomach and back to his own home, without Ingrid even knowing. She would go the rest of her life thinking that she had eaten a mysterious tiny boy. Even if he met her again at his full size, she would not know him as the boy that she had eaten alive.

Yet he didn’t need to do it yet. He hadn’t reached the area of her stomach acids. He could enjoy just lying inside her for a while, celebrating the accomplishment of something that her boyfriend had no desire to emulate, nor any ability to prevent. He expected she would not even tell him about it. After some time, Percy twisted the ring and returned to the shrinking machine and then to full size.

He spent some days happily recalling the fact that he’d had the chance to be the cake and be eaten. He could go on, but with one drawback: it would not be with Ingrid. She still preferred the vandal to his full sized self, and he could not approach her at tiny size again without giving away the fact that she had not really eaten him. Ingrid had gratified his greatest urge, and he did not want to take away the fact that she might well (for all he knew) have gratified her own too. He would let her think she’d added him permanently to her stomach.

Years later, as a young adult adventurer, Percy could not help remembering Ingrid.

Ingrid had gobbled him alive, and that, combined with her unique size and beauty just magnified his infatuation with the memory of her as time went on. Eventually destiny dropped an opportunity into his lap. He learned that Ingrid had been kidnapped, and managed to free her from a location that he knew better than the kidnappers. Later they were talking back at Percy’s house, which he had inherited from his grandparents.

* * * *

Ingrid’s food had all gone stale since the kidnapping. 

“I don’t feel like going out tonight for food,” she said, “I don’t suppose you could give me something to eat.”

The irony of that request was not lost on the Sneaky Spy, though Ingrid would never know … or would she? Would he ever feel that he could tell her that he had tricked her into temporarily eating him?

* * * *

Percy went to his oven and brought out some chicken, which he served on three plates.

Percy was alone at home, thinking of Ingrid.

Nothing had been said of their teenage years and the way that Ingrid had treated Percy. She certainly made no mention of the way that she had treated the ‘little boy’ she had found. He wondered how often the experience was recalled in her thoughts. He hoped that she still had fond memories of it, albeit from her own POV, not the boy’s as far as she could know.

One thing was certain. Ingrid seemed to have lost all her mocking hostility to him. He had saved her life. So it could be gratitude. His height had been named as a reason to reject him on the night that they had first met.

At least she was treating him as a friend now, and keeping up contact.

Percy was strangely keener to know her thoughts about the boy she had eaten (the Percy that she had not recognised) than her thoughts about the man who had saved her. There had to be some way to find out. He began racking his brains for a way to raise the subject without giving away the fact that he had been that boy. How could he lead her into discussing it. If Percy really wanted to know how Ingrid felt about the fact that she had eaten a tiny boy, there was only one way to find out. He would have to give her the chance to eat another.

Percy shrank himself to tiny size in the machine one day, and teleported himself into Ingrid’s garden. He walked over to the back patio of the house, which had an all-glass sliding door leading into the back room, where he now knew Ingrid liked to sit and read. He looked in and saw her. He had to make his discovery by her look accidental, not contrived.

He looked and noticed an umbrella beside him, leaning against the patio pillar. He managed to knock it off balance, even at his size, as umbrella points do not create the greatest stability for the object that they support. He gave a sudden movement as Ingrid looked up. She walked over to the door as he backed away, turned and ran. This would make it convincing.

He heard her footsteps gaining on him in mere seconds, and then felt and saw her hand grasp him from behind and lift him up.

“I haven’t seen a fellow your size since I was a teenager,” she said, “But that was at school, which is in the same suburb as this house. Let’s see if you’re any good.”

There was no mocking this time, no taunting or teasing, just a matter-of-fact detached interest in his potential as a meal, as Ingrid’s tongue came out and tasted him. She licked her lips in front of him in several directions, carried him to the kitchen and dropped him into a bowl of salad that she’d prepared for her lunch. She had none of her teenage desire to make fun of his plight, nor to draw it out, merely the original appreciation for the taste of him without the slightest concern for his welfare. She believed him to be a different victim from both the boy whose lollies she had taken and the tiny boy whom she had eaten

“Help yourself while you can,” she said, “I’ll save you for last.”

“Thank you Miss Giant,” he said.

“You’re welcome. I’m happy to make conversation while you’re waiting for me to eat you as well.”

“Okay,” he said, and decided to find out what had intrigued him most, “Did you eat the other fellow my size too?”

“Yes. He was delicious.”

“Do you think of him much?”

“Often. He was the most enjoyable meal of my life, about to be equalled by you, I suppose,” she said, to his elation at being remembered all those years, “I’m glad you came here trespassing. I need something to cheer me up at the moment.”

“Are you going through something?” he asked, knowing full well that her husband’s activities had left her a lot of grief.

“Yes. I suppose it will sort itself out eventually.”

“I’m not trying to delay my fate, but you said we had time to chat. Would you like to talk it out with me? Maybe I can help.”

“Thank you. That would be nice,” said Ingrid, “The boy I dismissed with maximum ridicule when I was a teenager, when I had a preference for the kind of bad news that evolved into my homicidal ex-husband … well that boy has become the man who just saved me from being murdered by my ex-husband. I’m grateful, and there’s nothing to distract me from appreciating just how cute he is now. I know he still loves me. He dumped his girlfriend before we even got back from the rescue. He even loved me enough to risk his life to save me while he thought I was still married.”

“How did you meet?” asked Percy, keen to get her perspective on it without her being aware that she was telling it to Percy himself.

“I helped myself to some of his lollies,” she said, “Just like I’m helping myself to you. I always eat whatever I like, whenever I can, without sparing a thought for the feelings of the owner … or the feelings of the food in your case. If you do have any thoughts on my situation with my rescuer Percy, I’d welcome them, but my gratitude won’t cause me to spare you. I’ll eat you up soon and get on with my life, whether with Percy or someone else. For you, there’s only the rest of this luncheon and the ride across my tongue and down my throat to look forward to.”

“I guess I’ll be one of the INGRID-IENTS,” said Percy.

For the first time she smiled, only for a second.

“Percy’s a wonderful man, but if he resents my having rejected him, he won’t be likely to ask me out soon.”

Percy wouldn’t tell her to take the first step. He could see that, behind Ingrid’s confident exterior was a woman who wanted to be courted. She didn’t want Percy’s forgiveness. She simply wanted him to understand that she had done what she thought best as a teenager, and that she would like to do what she thought best now as an adult, which this time would work in Percy’s favour. As soon as he had left her stomach and restored his size, he could think how to approach her. Now all he had to do was say something reassuring to her as tiny man, without giving the game away, and then prepare to be eaten again, which he knew he would certainly enjoy.

“From what you’ve told me, he probably doesn’t know you like him that way,” said Percy, “He’d be thinking that you’re just grateful for the rescue, but he doesn’t want to get himself hurt by another rejection.”

“Of course, that’s it!” she said, lifting the second last piece of lettuce into her mouth, “I’ll say something to compliment him.”

He remembered the night that her teenaged self had complimented his dress sense the year after their initial unpleasant encounters. It was then that Percy understood that Ingrid had liked him back then. She had appreciated his good looks, but scorned his soft personality. Now that she had come to like it, she would love him even more than she had ever loved her ex-husband, he hoped.

“I hope it works,” he said as she cleaned her mouth with a glass of water, “I’m sure it will. You’re a lovely woman, Miss Giant.”

“Thank you, and call me Ingrid as you say goodbye. I think it’s time for you to go, and you’ve made me feel much better.”

Ingrid lifted him to her mouth and gave him a giant slow kiss.

“Oh Ingrid, thank YOU!” he said, having never forgotten how good the first gobbling felt, and having now been the recipient of a kiss from her amazing mouth too, “Goodbye darling, and here’s hoping that the quality of Percy is not drained.”

She now gave a delightful open mouthed laugh at his Shakespearian pun.

“That’s it. Away with you,” she said happily and licked the shrunken Sneaky Spy several times and then rubbed him on her neck and slid him into her mouth.

He enjoyed the gulping pressure of her adult mouth and slid down deep inside her, waited for a while and then teleported back to his machine and full size.

He soon heard a knock at the door, and went to see that it was Ingrid.

“Oh, don’t you look nice,” she said, “Could you stand some company?”

“I’d love it … if it’s you,” said Percy.

Returning the compliment would not give away his having been the tiny man who advised her, given that he was following her lead.

“Thank you,” said Ingrid.

“Would you like to sit in the garden?”

“I’d love to.”

They sat and talked for some time. Percy had no further doubts about her interest in him, and felt that an absence of words would spare them both from any awkward recollections of their teenage memories.

He eased his arm around her body slowly, and felt her move to do the same. Even sitting down her head was still a little higher than his. He lifted his finger and ran it over her lower lip. It was unlikely that this would lead her to guess that he had once lain on top of it at tiny size.

“Is this alright?” he asked.

“It’s lovely.”

Percy had two sudden realisations, both of which left him elated. One was that he could visit her at tiny size whenever he liked and be mistaken for yet another tiny man and eaten, role playing out any story that fitted in with her movements at the time. He could also enjoy her love and romance at his full size, without her ever knowing that she was participating in both experiences with the same man every time.

The second realisation was the fact that, on the night of their first meeting, she had said, ‘You’re a little short to be attempting something so bold’ the first time he had touched her … only her hair. Yet at his tiny size, he had been given the opportunity, and for that matter no choice but to touch her tongue, her throat, and the passage down to her tummy.

Percy put both arms around Ingrid and moved towards her. She responded positively, and their lips pressed against each other’s. As he felt her tongue making its move to his mouth, he was constantly aroused at the recollections of his time with his whole shrunken anonymous body inside her mouth. With memories like that in his mind, and the chance to renew them periodically, he would always be aroused beyond belief whenever he thought about Ingrid at all.

Now unofficially calling himself the Sneaky Spy, Percy had a number of adventures with Ingrid, and found himself protecting her on more than one occasion.

One night  Ingrid put her arm around Percy's shoulders, and silently kissed his cheek.

"You were marvellous in those adventures we’ve been having. Thank you  for letting me come with you."

“It’s nothing.”

“No really, you’re even sweeter than a jelly bean.”

He would never have a better opportunity to find out whether or not Ingrid would have eaten him the other morning, if she had known who he was. The question had stimulated him for days.

“That could be risky,” he said.

“Why?” asked Ingrid.

“Pretty girls eat jellybeans.”

“Are you worried that I might eat you?”

“Would you?”

 “Well you’re too big,” she said.

“But you ate my lollies that night we met, and now I’m glad you did. You see I was hoping that they’d win you over.”

“Like I said, you are so sweet, Percy.”

“But would you eat me if I was small enough, like a jelly bean?” he asked.

“You keep making it hard to decide,” said Ingrid.

“Really?”

He thought it unlikely that she would ever bring up the ‘two’ tiny ‘fellows’ she believed that she had eaten.

“Well if you were perhaps a little bigger than a jelly bean, but still small enough to swallow, you might be rather enjoyable to eat, don’t you think?”

“Would you really do that?”

“I guess I might. I think it would depend on whether you tasted nice or not.”

“You’re full of surprises, Ingrid. It does make you more interesting than any other woman I’ve known.”

"Well thank you. In the meantime, you’ve got me thinking. I'd like to eat something."

Later they were snuggled up in Ingrid’s bed, kissing and cuddling, but saving other activities for marriage. Ingrid suddenly put out her tongue in front of him. It looked spectacular, even from his full sized perspective. She licked his cheek, and then unbuttoned his shirt and licked his neck and shoulders.

“That’s really nice,” he said.

“So are you,” said Ingrid, “And you did ask me something back at those islands, which I’ve been meaning to answer.”

“Oh yes. You said you’d eat me if I tasted nice. So would I be in trouble if I was not much bigger than a jellybean?”

“Absolutely, but you are. I’ll just have to get my tiny boys elsewhere,” she said, in a tone that pretended to joke but in fact contained the absolute truth, as far as he knew.