- Text Size +
Story Notes:

I do not own Macross or the associated characters; they belong to various Japanese persons and corporations. Various legal-beagle snizzbazz. 

Emilia Jenius felt her cheeks get hot. “Basura…”  It had been one thing to be bested in a musical duel by a man over a hundred times smaller than she, but to hear these words, amidst their whirlpool of muddled, off-color emotions.

“There’s no winning or losing in singing,” he had said—kindly, and perhaps even slightly amorously? Emilia couldn’t tell, couldn’t fathom. His eyes, tiny and brown, were flecks of piercing light in the warm, dry den. “Your song shook my heart, too, you know.”

“Oh, Basura…” Her voice sounded strange—alien, as though it were not her speaking, but some other replica of herself, some Id-creature. “My heart also…”

Then time seemed to stand still. She wanted to—no, it was unthinkable, they had only just met! And he was so much smaller than she… Would it really be a kiss to him? Or would he think she was trying to eat him? Surely micronized folk had stories they told like that, of evil giantesses and such. What was the word—fairy tales. She didn’t want to scare him… And yet something was stirring inside of her that wouldn’t tolerate being ignored for much longer.

He’s so close, her hind-brain whirred encouragingly at her. And he’s at just the right height, on the table there. Just level with your lips. Look at him—he wants this. Just do it, already, scoop him up and give him a smooch he’ll never forget. You’ll never have a better chance! Doit-doit-doit-doit-doi…

Maybe this was inevitable. Emilia felt herself lean in. Her eyes squeezed shut, her lips puckered out, closing in on Basura’s location. From his point of view, it must have looked like a hillside collapsing down on him, a hillside with enormous, pink, eminently kissable lips…

Then: “Ahayyyyyya!”

Emilia opened her eyes. Just out of the corner of her vision, a tiny shape moved. There, scrambling up onto her broad shoulder, was Pedro, the little boy Basura had brought out onto the ice with him. He’d been playing in her hamper, she thought, bouncing on my bras. How did he get here…?

But the time for such questions came to a sudden and shocking end. Suddenly Pedro’s small weight wasn’t on her shoulder any more. He’d taken a running leap off the natural platform, boosted by a surprised twitch of the huge woman’s shoulder, and was soaring through the air…

Basura couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe… One second prior he was about to receive a life-changing kiss… And now he only watched in horror and some slight awe as the boy Pedro catapulted off Emilia’s shoulder and tumbled straight into her titanic mouth. It happened in seconds—no, the shavings of a single second. Pedro gave a little joyful yell – then he flew – then he was gone, vanished completely between Emilia’s plush lips. Her expression mirrored his own: utter shock and surprise at the tiny, wriggling weight on her tongue.

But for Emilia, time still crawled. The boy seemed to arc towards her in slow-motion, graceful as a tune-dragon lifting off a boulder. Her mouth fell open in surprise at the sight, and as Pedro reached the zenith of his jump and began to descend, she squeezed her eyes shut. She didn’t see the boy fall inside her mouth. Only felt it—felt his little bottom land inside, felt her eager tongue rise to cradle his weight. Her lips smacked shut behind him, leaving the poor boy in complete darkness as already the saliva reacted to the taste of flesh…

Maybe it was the slickness of the saliva. Maybe it was Pedro’s momentum. Or perhaps, just perhaps, Pedro had a plan beyond simply jump. But the results remain the same. The instant Pedro landed inside Emilia Jenius’s huge mouth, he began to slip back, back along her enormous tongue, past her double rows of teeth, past huge white molars, sliding farther and farther away from the gateway of her lips and the safety that lay beyond…

To Pedro, the inside of Emilia’s mouth was as huge and spacious as the upper lifts of a cathedral. The roof of her mouth glistened with saliva, lit up by the light pouring in through her still-open lips. But when her lips closed and darkness fell, the darkness was even bigger. In the dark, her mouth seemed to stretch on forever. And Pedro knew he was slipping back into forever, into the black eternity now looming over him. Zipping along inside her mouth, the journey to the back of her throat took only the simplest fraction of a second—but to Pedro, it was a voyage, a strange and slimy journey into a huge and exciting unknown.

But almost before his trip had begun, it was over—the black portal of Emilia Jenius’s throat towered over him. There hung her uvula, bulbous and glistening with spit, so close he could reach out and tap it with his fingers if he stretched… And beyond that: the Long Drop, a dark tunnel curving down into oblivion. As he sat there, crouched on her curving, shifting tongue, the back of Emilia’s throat seemed to stretch even wider, as if inviting the curious little morsel to take the plunge down inside, just to see what all the fuss was about below.

But it—the choice, the chance—was immaterial. Emilia felt Pedro’s wiggling little body slip straight across her tongue, directly to the very back of her mouth… And as his tiny feet touched the sensitive flesh guarding the top of her throat, thousands of years of biological instinct kicked in and she swallowed, hard. Her tongue lifted up, taking the little boy with it, and plunged the morsel inside her mouth straight into the top of her esophagus. Gulp! Immediately the powerful muscles inside the walls of her throat closed in on the kid, hugging him close and carrying him gently down inside of her, deeper and deeper, as the sound of her triphammer heart pounded louder and louder…

There was nothing Emilia could do, nothing but gasp in horror as she felt the little boy slip into her throat and listen as the wet, muscular sound of her powerful swallow filled the air. A slight, boy-sized bulge appeared under her chin and travelled down her long, pale neck—she clapped a hand to it, in shock and

and what? Something else stirred, something like what stirred when she looked at Basura only moments ago, something primal and ancient and strong…

terror she traced Pedro’s descent as he slid down her throat. The bulge—the only indicator he was inside her visible to the outside world—slipped down her neck and vanished behind her collarbone, but Emilia continued to trace him, down and down. She could still feel him inside her chest, slipping down between her titanic, globe-like bosoms, struggling against the firm-but-tender grip of her commanding throat, until at last the boy’s journey came to a sudden and terrifying stop as her esophagus deposited him into her stomach.

In the course of only a few small seconds, Emilia Jenius had done the unthinkable—she had swallowed a human child in a single gulp.

 

 

You must login (register) to review.