On the morning of the second last day of the holidays, the impending return to humiliation by the girls at his school crept back into his mind, and Tristram made a decision to give reign to his real desires. He wrote one more letter to Mrs Waye and left it for her to find.

Dear Mrs Waye,

I have fallen completely in love with you now, and have thought about this carefully for the last three weeks. I would like to take advantage of the one and only way that I shall ever be able to touch your tongue. I would like to come and turn myself over to you in your garden tomorrow morning at eleven o’clock. I will meet you on the large stretch of lawn near our letter collection spot. If you stand in the middle of the lawn, I will come out towards you, and then you can pick me up.

I would consider it the highlight of my life when you gobble me all up.

Your adoring young admirer,

Tristram xxx.

The next day Tristram made his way to the garden, walked to the edge of the lawn, and watched the other side in anticipation of Mrs Waye’s arrival.

Soon he saw her walking slowly along a path and out onto the lawn. He watched her huge grand form pacing slowly to the centre of the lawn, where she stopped and rested her hands by her side. He stepped out of the garden and walked across the lawn to stop just in front of her.

“Hello Tristram. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last,” she said, “You’ve only ever seen my tongue from ground level. Would you like to come up and have a closer look?”

“I’d love to, thank you,” said Tristram.

He looked up, as the woman leaned over and reached for him with her huge hand. Her shapely forearm was in view, as her fingers closed around him, and then he felt himself leaving the ground. He looked up as he was lifted high into the air and held just in front of her lips.

“How does this look?” she asked.

The words had given him a brief glance at her tongue, and he saw more as they continued to talk.

“It’s so nice to be with you like this, Mrs Waye. I’m glad you’re not at all offended by my staring at your wonderful tongue.”

“I’m pleased with it actually,” she said, and kissed him, “Dillon gave himself to me with a built in escape clause, but your devotion to a one time encounter is touching indeed. Would you like me to do anything else for you today?”

“Could you open your mouth wide, so I can look inside it without your tongue moving to speak, and hold it there for about ten seconds?” asked Tristram.

“I’d love to, but you’ll have to count the seconds, if you don’t want my tongue to move,” said Mrs Waye, and opened her mouth wide.

Tristram stared in at the beautiful sight with unparalleled admiration. He reached in, resting his upper arm on her lower lip, and stroked the front of her tongue with glee.

When he withdrew his arm, Mrs Waye smiled adorably and put out her tongue and licked him.

“Thank you,” said Tristram.

“The pleasure was mine,” said Mrs Waye, “Shall we go inside?”

“Yes please,” said Tristram.

She carried him into the house and spent the rest of the day with him. He enjoyed watching her eating her lunch, having told her of the reactions of the girls at school. It delighted Mrs Waye to give him generous views of her tongue, and then they spent the afternoon talking happily together.

After the sun had gone down, Mrs Waye cooked him in her oven, while he looked through its glass door in admiration of her every movement about the kitchen. Soon she took him to the dining table, sat down and began licking him ecstatically.

She thanked and farewelled him, and then placed Tristram onto her tongue to await the final gulping process. He slid around for several minutes, and then the first gulp came, and he found himself slowly making his way down her throat. Even at this point, he had no regrets. He thought of the scorn he had received from arrogant dismissive teenaged girls, and was more grateful than ever to Mrs Waye.

Then he felt another gulp, and was carried down further and further, as each successive gulp took him closer to her stomach.

Leanne and Tarquin had co-written these last chapters, rather than taking turns to write a chapter each. This allowed for Tarquin to write all of Tristram’s dialog and thoughts, and for Leanne to do the same for Mrs Waye.

Then, having discussed the knowledge they’d gained of Christine Long and the Kenvilles, Leanne and Tarquin decided to add a few more pages after the conclusion of the novel. The first such page read as follows:

If this story has awakened an interest in giantesses or tiny boys, the authors would like to give you the opportunity to contact them and become members of our new fan club called G.O.O.D. (Giantesses Order Of Diminutives).

Send the joining fee now, and we will send you regular newsletters with the secret meeting venues and events for our fan club. As you have seen from the story, single parents have their exclusive clubs, and it is time that those who would be either giantesses or tiny boys were given a group of their own in which to gather…

The one thing that still remained was a title for the book. It should not be overtly descriptive of boys being eaten by giantesses, but should nonetheless make the science fiction genre unmistakeable to anyone choosing whether or not to purchase the book. Leanne had chosen the wording of the fan club invitation page, and asked Tarquin for his thoughts on a title for the novel.

After some thought, he suggested ‘Tunnel to the Giants’, and Leanne agreed that it seemed suitable. As Tarquin was still a minor, he was happy to have his photograph only on the inside cover, so that nobody who knew him would find it staring at them from the front of the book.

Leanne’s photograph was on the back cover, and the front cover read ‘Tunnel to the Giants by Leanne Commons and  Quinn Little’. The pen name would preserve his anonymity. However, Leanne would set up an account in Tarquin’s name, which would receive half of the proceeds from the sales of the novel as well as half of the money raised from the joining fees for Giantesses Order Of Diminutives.

Not only would they be making extra money from their project, not only would they be helping other people with similar interests to meet and socialize and share their work, but they would also be furthering their own research into how many other people like Timothy, Christine Long, Howie and Corinne Kenville, Tarquin, and Leanne Commons existed in the world. They would gain some insight into how widespread the rare desires of these few people were.

When the work was completed and the manuscript sent to Leanne’s publisher, Tarquin stayed one more night at Leanne’s place, to celebrate with a series of cuddles and kisses.

In the middle of the night, he awoke to find that it was daytime in the familiar garden of their size differential experiences. This time he ran straight for the approaching Leanne Commons and made it easy for the giantess to catch him.

“Put me in your mouth, quickly, and try to gulp me down before it can end,” he called enthusiastically, spurred on by what they’d both written about Tristram and Mrs Waye, to see how it would turn out for himself and Leanne.

“Why not?” said Leanne.

She placed him into her mouth and took none of the usual time to savour the experience, but gave a powerful gulp.

Tarquin was quickly drawn into her throat, and downwards.

Then he found himself back in the bed, cuddling up to Leanne.

“You did it. You ate me!” he said, “It worked, but I’m still alright.”