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Author's Chapter Notes:

AN- This is going to be a little bit less detailed (due to the rhyming) and a little bit sillier (due to the rhyming) than what I usually post on here (...due to the rhyming).  It’s also 3rd person, which I try shying away from in fetish works.  It was a bit of a rush job since the idea came to me and I wanted to just get it done, so I may edit and make better rhymes at a later date (plus get rid of all forced rhymes, half rhymes, and masculine rhymes).


AN 2- What follows is a retelling/rewrite of Loris Lesynski’s kid’s book “Boy Soup”, with three key differences- 

1.  The boys in this case are far older (18 year old seniors in high school with a few 19-21 year old college men).

2.  This is what would have happened if the giant never ended up snatching a girl accidentally.

3.  It is R-rated.

Big Sam woke up with a great throbbing head.

“I’m achy and sore- I feel dreadful,” he said. 

His sniffles caused hurricanes-

He sneezed away the remains-

Then moaned with a shudder, “My everything pains.” 

With thunderous footfalls he got up to look

Through the pages of his Giant Home Remedy Book.


With boulder-sized digits, Sam searched through the sheets-

Through cures made of herbs, veg’tables, and diff’rent meats.

He found all his symptoms on one sixty nine;

Tickling throat, wheezy voice, wanting to whine,

Feeling worse than croup, and cough stronger than whoop-

The only remedy? A bowl of Boy Soup.


“No way,” mused the giant, “it wouldn’t be right,”

But his tongue lolled on out, giving into the fight.

Yet then, if I’m sick, that’s a valid excuse...

He thought of the broth a sweet boy could produce.

A lean boy, a teen boy, a boy so delicious 

a giant like me would be licking the dishes!

One buff, meaty boy, or better a whole group! 

A full dozen lads would make wonderful soup!"


Catching the boys was a true piece of cake.

Sam lept from the clouds, making the whole ground quake.

He looked at the humans, all shaking with shock

And took his time selecting the best of the stock.

Jumping back up to his home in the sky,

The humans returned to games, still unsure why

Sam, the big giant, had come down to their land

But in fifteen minutes they’d all understand.



He’d made his selections, so soon his thick arm

Was reaching back down to the Earth, doing harm.

A huge shadow hovered over youths in their groups,

And a meaty paw grabbed the fittest, with large scoops.

As Sam stretched on down from his home up above,

The boys tried to run, with a push and a shove. 

All was for naught as the lads were to find

For the god-like giant had made up his mind.


First from the football field, a meaty twelfth grader-

The team captain- grabbed up by the giant invader.

Next was a lean lad, out on the pitch playing soccer,

He ran into the huge palm, which to him was a shocker. 

Then to the baseball diamond Sam’s hand did go,

The juicy-assed pitcher shrieked, plucked up mid-throw.

A lacrosse player was next, tastiest on the team,

With a smack of his lips, the giant laughed at his scream.

A wrestling boy, after grappling, his opponent he did mount,

But when the giant snatched him he was the one down for the count.

A pick up basketball game next caught Big Sam’s eye,

One tall lanky form captured despite being so spry.

Behind the gym an adorable emo smoked.

One look at the giant, his skinny jeans were soaked.

A tasty weightlifter, was leaving the gym,

The smell of the sweat made Sam go straight for him.

A preppy gay boy who looked on with awe

Found himself lifted, still slack in the jaw.

Sam spied a cyclist fleeing, ped’ling real fast,

Calves muscular from his rides- this would be his last.

At the skatepark was a boy who just turned nineteen,

Tasty looking, fit and trim, on his brow a thin sheen.

At a nearby frat, a bro sucked down beer like a beast

He was the last for the feast, but certainly not least.


"I don’t feel guilty at all" the giant began,

when twelve angry young men protested his plan.

"It’s giant doctor recommended, right here in my book!"

One boy replied, "Before supper,could I have a look?"

"No!" Said the giant, who feared some sort of trick.

He then went on, giving his lips a long lick.

“I know what you’re planning, I’ve seen it before,

You’ve all read that silly kid’s book and what’s more,

You’re far too tasty looking for me to let go,

And there’s a few more things you really should know.”


Without another word the giant put in a tape

Forcing the boys to watch, each with a wide open gape.

On the screen were young men killed by the score,

Some tortured, all eaten, and what was still more,

The giant seemed turned on by their struggles and pain,

On film pleas’ring himself when turning a boy to a stain.


It was true they had read the book in their early days,

“Boy Soup”, they thought, was a tale, not a real craze.

They sulked and they cried, offering to be pets,

“Sorry,” said Sam, “there are no giant vets.

Perhaps I could make you into sex toys…

But no… you look mouthwat’ring, my tasty boys.”


The film finally over, the giant began,

To gather ingredients, some sauteed in a pan.

A truck load of carrots, a hammock of peas,

While he prepped he saw the boys’ trembling knees.

The water soon simmered, having gotten real hot

“Now”, snapped the giant, "Boys, get into the pot!

I’m tired and hungry; I’m as sick as can be;

Nobody in creation has it as bad as me.”


The lads would have laughed if they weren’t so scared.

Good God.  Really?  The giant actually dared

To compare his minor head cold to a tragedy-

Knowing full well, the pain in which the boys would soon be?

With a thunderous roar, the giant sneezed snot from his nose 

And all the boys shook with terror from heads to tasty toes.

“But wait,” said the emo.  “Hold on,” begged all of the jocks.

“You can’t really be ready,” cried the blonde in soccer socks.


“Oh, but I am,” the giant boomed out with glee,

“I’ve followed the entire tasty recipe.

I gathered the boys, meaty, succulent and cute;

Teen athletes, as it says, are ripe like the freshest fruit.

Your body mass indexes are perfectly healthy,

So I procured you ingred’ents… I am rather stealthy.

It says your succulent bodies are perfect.” They all groaned.

“So I can suck the meat off your bones or have you deboned.

Then I diced the tomatoes, and cut up the peas.”

“Please!” they all begged.  “Please, oh God, please, please please!”

“I cooked up the beans and mixed in all the spices,

Keeping them separate them from the human sacrifices.

Your flavor is already so strong and so rich

I don’t want to taint it, or I’d have to switch

The recipe completely, and have you marinate

For that would be awful, making me have to wait

As the juices mingled with your succulent flesh.

Then I’d have to start again anew and afresh.

I added more veggies to the giant stew pot,

Letting it simmer until it got good and hot.

So yes, I’m ready, to add you morsels of meat,

The most delicious part of the soup for me to eat.”


But here the giant stopped, he had noticed a flaw.

“Before I throw you all down, into my dank dark maw,

I realize you’re right.  I did skip an important step.

I was so busy, rushing as I went on to prep,

That I neglected one ingredient, oh no!

It’s right in the title, which just goes to show,

You can’t rush anything when making a meal,

Especially one with such tasty fine, young veal.”


The boys were ecstatic, despite what he said,

They’d have a bit more time before they were dead.

Not wanting to be soup in the belly of the beast,

Their wonderful young bodies, served up as a feast,

They racked at their brains at an alarming rate,

To save themselves and their friends from this gruesome fate.


“You see,” the Giant said with a wide grin,

“There’s one thing to do before we begin.”

The lads didn’t care whatever it could be

As long as it gave them longer to live, you see.

“The name of the meal was not what we thought,”

The meat perked right up, just as they’d been taught-

Like in the book, the soup is probably

Made by boys, not with boys, oh golly gee!

They thought they were safe and breathed sighs of relief,

But this reprieve proved to be only too brief.

“For you see,” the giant went on with a smile, 

“The real name of the soup gives us a short while.

Boy soup is good but this soup is even better.”

At his next words the emo’s pants got even wetter.

“This is not boy soup, but cream of boy soup it would seem.

So one last ingredient is a gallon of fresh boy cream.”


The lads were confused, and it showed on their faces,

Were they to be ground up, destroying all traces?

For how else could one turn a boy to fresh cream?

It was the frat bro who first caught onto the scheme.

With a shriek he jumped, as though about to leap from the table,

But Big Sam, prepared, seized him before he was able.

The young man was stripped into his birthday suit,

And was instantly manhandled by the great big brute.

Sam held the lad over the bubbling pot,

And his big meaty finger went in like a shot.

The frat bro screamed as his asshole stretched wide,

Sam pushed his prostate, tickling deep inside.

The meaty jock went rigid, biting his lips,

And Sam pushed in further, bucking his toy’s hips.

It only took a few strokes of the now rigid tiny dick,

Which Sam did with huge fingers and a single well placed flick.

The frat bro writhed and spurted into the pot,

Against his will, his frothy boy cream, which was a whole lot.

The giant chuckled and removed his digit,

Licking the sore hole of the frat boy midget.

Then with an unceremonious plop,

He dropped the muscled youth, who felt himself drop.


Turning his attention back to the group like a hawk,

The boys were pale, and wide-eyed, in disbelief and shock.

In moments he had them all stripped of their gear,

Standing there nude, and trembling in their fear.

The only exceptions, were the boys with long socks,

Which he kept on their legs, jock straps still clung to their cocks.

He wanted to have fun taking those off real slow,

Seeing how much their cocks underneath them would grow.

So reaching over he lifted the next young man,

The blonde soccer boy who resembled Peter Pan.


The youthful face contorted into a scream,

As Sam went about harvesting the cream.

He licked the blonde hair, and soft puckered hole,

Flicking the bubbly ass, which had a cute mole.

The cheeks jiggled and turned red, a succulent sight,

Which rekindled in those watching their terrible fright.

The jockstrap band was pulled back and released,

Causing cries of anguish from his soon-to-be feast.

And then while he traced the lads’ nipples and abs,

With his forefinger, stroking with stabs and with jabs,

He sucked the youth’s long soccer socks between his lips,

And played with his sweaty feet, sweet as choc’late chips.

With a shove of the strap, the kid’s hard cock was free,

So Sam slurped it in next, for all his friends to see.

‘Twasn’t long ere he too, succumbed to the giant,

Despite all attempts on his part to be defiant.

With a squirt and a shudder he released salty cream,

Falling into the pot with it, past all the steam.


Big Sam continued the process with each and every lad,

Filling the pot with more cream and boys than he’d ever had.

The boys were exhausted from their ordeal,

And naked and sweaty, now the perfect meal.

The giant’s shadow crossed over the pot,

Where he sniffed the tasty smell of the whole lot.

Their flavors were mingled with each other and plus

The veggies and the cream, after all of the fuss

He was ready to dine, and lifted up a spoon,

Causing the terrified boys below to swoon.


But suddenly Sam stopped, he had realized something,

“Is it the steam from this stew?  Or maybe the ginseng? 

Whatever it is my sinuses have cleared.

Was it just allergies, when a cold I had feared?

It makes sense, as spring usually brings on my hay fever…

And of coincidences I am not a believer.

Still let me make sure, the snot is all gone”

With that he scooped up in his spoon John and Sean.

The boys’ eyes were red-rimmed, from steam and from tears,

Was this it, the culmination of all of their fears?

They winced as the giant’s nostrils flared at their smell,

For John the lacrosse star and Sean the b-ball stud, this was pure hell.

But with a sudden jerk their heads were shoved in,

Not into a mouth, but somewhere akin.

Both boys were in the nostrils up to their asses,

Their flailing legs unable to remove their tiny masses.

With a quick snort, they were flung back into the pot

Trembling, trying to catch their breath, and covered in snot.

The giant took in a few lungfuls of air

And was happy to report, “no more phlegm in there.

It seems I am cured.  There was no cold at all,

I get allergies in spring and sometimes in fall.

Sorry for the confusion.  My window was open last night,

But after snatching you up I closed it up tight.

So now there’s no pollen in here and I feel fine,

I guess I didn’t need boys in which to dine.”


The boys smiled to each other, through their fatigues,

They’d be returning home, back to their sports leagues.

Their young lives were saved, they wouldn’t melt in a gut,

They’d remember how fortunate they were whene’er in a rut.

“Still, it’s a shame to waste such sweet succulent meat.

Throwing you into the trash, when you’d be such a treat.

The garbage disposal also breaks when there’s bones,

And your flavor is perfect from working out and hormones…

So I guess I’ll proceed anyway, besides I’d be a sinner

If I were to waste such a mouthwatering dinner.”


The boys with wide eyes couldn’t believe their fate,

No matter what they said, they knew it was too late.

With whimpers and hugs, they sobbed and they cried,

Praying the giant joked, he kidded, or lied.

But the spoon raised again, and they gave up all hope,

As one after one they entered the maw of the dope-

The dope who had truly thought he was ill,

So sure he was that he was willing to kill

A dozen fine young specimens, so full of life.

Not chopped to bits with a cleaver of knife,

The giant wanted them alive, whole and complete,

As they entered his gullet, and he began to eat.


Sam started with broth and veg’tables, a prelude to the show,

Eying the youths below, his cock proceeded to grow.

First was the gay prep, whose flesh was supple and soft,

He inhaled too much giant saliva, his last words just a cough.

While Sam ate, and felt the struggling inside

He jerked off to the lad’s pain, and didn’t try to hide

This fact from the lads still below in his bowl.

His moans of pleasure at their taste played a big role

In proving to them they were nothing but food,

No longer people, but objects, just as all boys should

Know that they are, at least in the eyes of the large.

All young men need to be aware of who is in charge.


Next thrown into his maw was the dark lanky teen,

The waifish b-ball player, tall and waifish as a string bean.

He was followed by the emo whose meat was quite sweet,

Yet still smokey from all the pot he’d smoke in the street.

The football captain and frat boy were quite the mouthful,

And of swallowing them whole, Big Sam was quite doubtful.

But his throat expanded to guide them down

To meet up with their friends who had started to drown

In the melted remains of those who came before,

Making room, as his stomach was begging for more.

His groaning tummy was sated as he continued to masturbate,

For the blonde hairless soccer stud was the next that he ate.

Soon after came the skater, who kicked and screamed,

Tasting better than Big Sam could have even dreamed.

The baseball pitcher’s ass was nibbled on and tongued deep,

Yet somehow the young man didn’t make a peep.

The weightlifter was sweaty, adding to his flavor,

But unlike the last, his manly cries were something to savor.

The cyclist’s leg muscles were packed with such taste,

Sam held him sticking from his mouth, up to his waist.

Hi tickled the boy’s calves, with his snaking tongue,

Amazed at the large kicking feet for one so young.

The lacrosse player watched the cyclists bulge descend,

And gulped as he knew this was his own end.

He was meaty and musky, but somehow tasted cheesy

Getting his broad shoulders inside was not easy.

Last to go down was the wrestler boy,

Giving one final beg to remain there as Sam’s toy.

Sam gave a laugh and stuffed him in for one final match,

The treat wrestled his tongue a moment… there’d be no rematch.


Patting his belly Sam grunted and finally came,

Putting the tiny ejaculations of his dinner to shame.

His own giant gallons of frothy man cream

Covered his hairy stomach in a steady scream.

“That was a most excellent supper indeed,”

Big Sam grunted before cleaning up his spilled seed.

“Thank you boys for such a fine, delicious meal.  

I can’t remember the last time I had so much veal.

I know I didn’t need you to cure my head cold,

But maybe this is the start of something new that’s bold.

Your teammates looked almost as tasty as you,

So I might use the book for more than just stew.

Instead of using it for remedies only,

As up here I do get quite sad and lonely,

I could use it as a recipe book too,

And have your friends over for supper like I did to you.

We can chat and we could play before I prepare them,

The calm before the mass murder and mayhem.

And I think I’ll see your teams sooner rather than later

 

Because my friends also have colds... and I do like to cater.


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