None of the four knew that Willy had arrived late, to keep a date with Jenny, and had witnessed this gathering of giantesses and captives. He looked across the grounds and saw Jenny in the distance. Jenny had noticed Mrs Long talking to Brooke St Albans and begun to wonder herself. She waited until the other two giantesses had departed with their victims, and then came over to find Willy about to reveal himself.

“We can’t save both of them at once,” said Jenny, “I didn’t think Miss St Albans would betray us.”

“I’m the one Mrs Long wants. If you drop me at the boarding house, I’ll see what little I can do to sneak into Brooke’s room and rescue Nicky,” said Willy, “And you could go and save Hamilton from Mrs Long.”

“They’re working together. If Miss St Albans catches you, she’ll surely hand you over to Mrs Long. I’d rather take you with me. We may still have time to save both after all,” said Jenny.

“Well Mrs Long sounded as though she was the one in the greater hurry to eat her captive, from what I overheard,” said Willy, “Let’s go to her classroom first.”

“You stay silent in my pocket,” said Jenny, “You’re still number one on her preferred menu.”

Willy remained in the position she placed him, as the giant love of his life ran towards the classroom.

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

Mrs Long sat at her desk and admired her young captive.

“Soon we’ll have all of you at our mercy,” she said, “When Miss Cartwright expands that little tube, we’ll go to your world and storm your school with our tummies ready for the rest of you. Not that you’ll be around to know about it. I’m truly touched that you chose me little boy. Now off to my tummy you go.”

Mrs Long lifted Hamilton above her head, held him over her opening maw and let him look into it.

“Behold in detail the view of your destination,” she said, “Just look where you’re going and think what it will be like to disappear down there forever. You’re going to be swallowed without the slightest bit of concern from me. How do you feel now, little boy?”

“Small and helpless I guess,” said Hamilton.

“Then goodbye,” she said, and lowered him slowly into her mouth.

Jenny ran into the room and right over to Mrs Long.

“Let him out,” she said, “You’ve already had Robin and Tinker. It’s not fair that you get so much, and they lose so much.”

Mrs Long opened her mouth. Jenny looked in at Hamilton, smiling sympathetically, pleased to have appealed to Mrs Long’s mercy, or to have played on the friendship they’d had in the past. Hamilton looked out at Jenny, surprised that a rescue had come where none had been expected.

Then suddenly, Mrs Long lifted her tongue enough to slide Hamilton into her throat, and gulped.

“How awful you’ve turned out to be!” said Jenny, “But you’ll never get Willy!”

Mrs Long simply laughed.

“You might find a little more traffic around that tube the next time you decide to meet up with him,” she said.

Jenny had nothing left she could do, except run to the boarding house and try to save Nicky from Brooke.

Mrs Long took Casey home, and collected her daughter Kirsty on the way, and set him up in her bedroom as she’d planned. She put all sorts of comfortable dolls house furniture on her bedside table, and moved it right up against the bed, to make it easy for Casey to step onto the pillow or back onto the bedside table. She had dinner with Kirsty downstairs, and brought Casey’s up to him afterwards.

When they were lying together, she brought up the subject of Hamilton.

“Did you hear me eating Hamilton?” she asked.

“Yes. I’m so happy that you don’t want to eat me. You must really like the taste of little boys.”

“Very much so,” said Mrs Long, “I’ve been writing songs about little boys being eaten for a while now. Would you like me to sing you one each night, before we go to sleep?”

“Yes,” he said, recalling how lovely she looked as the choir leader at his old school, when she was singing.

Mrs Long began to sing.

When Peter was 6, all of this came to pass.

He turned up to school for the first day of class.

In second class, that is, he met his new teacher,

And wished he was taller, so that he could reach her,

With kisses to grace her adorable lips.

But young Peter didn’t come up to her hips.

“Now good morning children. You must all behave,

Like good little children, or nothing will save

You each from big trouble. Now let’s do some spelling.”

“So how can I please her? Now that would be telling,”

Thought Peter. I know. I shall try to be best

At class work or homework or doing a test.”

For afternoon class, she gave them all a mission

To write their own story in brief composition.

To show that he’d written a good story first,

He took out a comic and quenched his young thirst

For comic book heroes. The plot was exciting.

“Young boy,” said Miss Longstaff, “Just why aren’t you writing?”

“I’ve finished,” said Peter, to show off his speed.

“Then ask for more work,” his new teacher decreed,

“I don’t allow comics in class time at school.

So see me at 3pm, you little fool.”

When all of the other young children had gone,

She told him, “Behaviour like yours is not on.

You may have one drink, and then what you will need

Is lessons for you, that nobody should read

His comics in my class.” The new teacher stepped

Right back from his drink, which he drank. Then he slept.

The drink made him doze off; and after his dream

He woke on her desk in a dish of whipped cream.

Somehow she had shrunk him. He now looked above

Himself to the face that he’d soon come to love.

“Ah there, little Peter, I see you’re awake;

And now you will learn from your silly mistake.

You’ll really be punished for reading your comic,

By being my dinner, thanks to the atomic

Reducing ray, built as my own first invention.

“I don’t want to do that,” the boy chose to mention.

“You cannot be punished with things you enjoy.

Now wait here in silence, you naughty young boy,”

She said, while he waited for what seemed an age.

She moistened her finger to turn the next page,

By licking it. He looked, and reached a decision.

“Miss Longstaff, while you’re marking our composition,

Could you let me down, so that I can explore

The room at small size? It’s so far to the floor,

Now that I’m so tiny,” said Peter, still gaping.

“Alright, but don’t think that you’ll end up escaping,”

She said, “I have properly locked up this room.

You cannot escape from your culinary doom.”

He hid in a hole in the wall, where he saw

Her marking their work. She soon finished the chore.

“Now quickly, young Peter, you’d better return

To me, for it’s time for that lesson you’ll learn.”

But Peter refused now, to do as she’d bidden.

He waited in silence, remaining well hidden.

“Alright, do you want me to get up and find

My small treat, small Peter. I really don’t mind.”

She searched, and soon found the small boy’s hiding place;

And blocked his escape with her beautiful face.

She tried reaching in, but her hand was too huge

To fit into young Peter’s place of refuge.

“Come out and be eaten, you troublesome child.

I’ll gobble you whole, which is really quite mild,

Compared to the usual chewing and biting.

Your fate in my mouth should be very inviting.”

“I’ll stay here,” said Peter, “This punishment’s wrong.”

“Alright,” said Miss Longstaff, “You won’t be there long.”

She fetched a big can of whipped cream, and then sprayed

It into the hole, where her student still stayed.

Through cream blasts he saw big Miss Longstaff’s mouth pout.

It said, “You shall drown there, unless you come out.”

He soon staggered out and she licked all his features,

And then made him one of the first living creatures

To slide off her tongue, to a tummy so dark.

And gave his assignment a very good mark.

He looked into her widely opening mouth, each time she sang a vowel sound which caused her to open her mouth wide. The view of her tongue at that range was unmistakable. He could only imagine how Hamilton had felt, but Mrs Long loved Casey.

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

In the weeks ahead, Chely began to complain frequently about the time that Lera spent including Alfie in family activities, often trotting out the phrase “You’re neglecting me, Mum.”

“It’s not true,” said Lera, “Alfie is going to be a part of this family too one day, and we’re starting to make him feel like it now.”

From then on Chely would often deliberately bang about in the kitchen, whenever she was fetching food for herself, subtly displaying her temper and resentment at Alfie’s presence.

“What am I supposed to do?” asked Lera one day, when Alfie was not there to hear it.

“We should have days when we do just girls things together alone,” said Chely.

“And what would Alfie do then?”

“You can tell him to come for just Saturday, instead of the whole weekend.”

“That would break his heart, and I don’t want to see him for half the weekend. I want him with us for all of it. If your behaviour hasn’t discouraged him, I hope he will ask me to marry him one day. He’s never been married before, and he’s never held my loveless marriage to your father against me. He’s been very patient with my responsibilities as a mother, and if we are married one day, he’ll be here all the time, every day of the week. You’re going to have to adjust, Chely. In a few years, you’ll have a boyfriend of your own, and then get married yourself. If I sacrifice my relationship with Alfie, instead of addressing your attitude now, I’ll end up alone. I won’t do that. It doesn’t mean I love you any less, but give Alfie a chance. He’s tried to be friends with you girls. Matilda’s accepted him, but you’ve shown only resentment. Just think of him as a friend, rather than a threat.”

On the next Friday evening, Alfie arrived at Lera’s house and rang the doorbell, as planned. She had invited him to stay the whole weekend.

To Alfie’s surprise, Chely opened the door.

“Hi,” she said, seeming a little friendlier than usual, “Mum’s doing the shopping with Matilda. I’m making a dessert treat for her.”

She put Alfie on the kitchen bench, where she was using a metal mold (which had the shape of a man Alfie’s size) to carve pieces of Turkish delight in the shapes of small men. Chely took out a roll of string, cut some small pieces off, and tied Alfie’s hands together, and then his legs. Finally she tied a piece around his mouth and head to gag him. She sprinkled icing sugar all over him, making him look no different to the Turkish delight men.

“It’s going to get so much worse for you, Alfie,” said Chely, “Since mother loves you so much, I hope she feels well fed after she’s unwittingly eaten you! Then I’ll have her all to myself again.”

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

“I’m glad you think I’m beautiful,” said Brooke, “You must find this whole situation terribly ironic.”

“I’d have preferred it if things had turned out differently,” said Nicky.

Brooke giggled, and put Nicky inside her mouth, as the late afternoon sun shone into her dormitory and into her mouth.

Nicky sat on the front of her tongue, and looked at the back half of it. There were two sides to her tongue, which met at some imaginary line in the middle. As dangerous as it was to him, it was a thing of great beauty.

“You have a very nicely designed tongue, Brooke,” he called out.

The new teacher closed her mouth and turned him over and over with her tongue. In a strange way, it felt as though she were showing him a unique form of affection. After a few minutes she took him from her mouth, now saturated with tongue water, and rubbed him dry on her dress.

“Wasn’t I just the best time you’ve ever had?” she asked, giggling with amusement, “Was I better for you than Yvanne?”

“I’d have to be honest and say that you were,” said Nicky, “It was great, Brooke. Was I better than Bertie?”

“That’s none of your business,” said Brooke.

“I’m sorry,” said Nicky, “But it seemed fair to ask, since you asked about Yvanne.”