This is a shrunken people Vore story. This story is about a man being shrunk to a relatively large size (about half a meter), and being roasted and eaten alive by a family (not his family).
Contains: Vore, shrunken people, hard Vore, cook, chew, digestion, food, FFMM/m.
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Not always everything is as bad as it seems. For instance, not always when a person shrinks for whatever reason, they will end up as someone's meal. It depends a lot on where you have shrunk, which society is in the area, and also the size. People can shrink due to various reasons. It can be from catching the ongoing shrinking virus which may or may not cause temporary or permanent shrinkage. It can also be from genetic condition that will make you shrink involuntary. Some people like criminal or misfortune poor that lost a big lawsuit can be shrunk on purpose too. Final size can also vary, from barely a centimeter to about half a meter. The attitude and treatment towards shrunken people is different depends on the local culture.
Sure, on the western world the most common type of tinies you can find is on the size between 5 and 10 centimeters, and most of them are being used as food in one way or another. However, it's not a strict rule. Even in the western world you can find ant sized tinies, or really large ones that are in the same size of a 2-3 years old child. Also, in some places they allow tinies to live their lives freely, take care of themselves just like street cats or pigeons do. Naturally, the bigger shrunks have more surviving chance. On some cases, in some towns, the shrunken people which are taller than 30 centimeters are considered almost as regular people with some sort of unfortunate disability, rather than insects like the smaller ones.
Back to the point, this means that if the conditions are right, a shrunken person at the size of roughly half a meter can live their lives without too much concern. Furthermore, the normal sized people interact with them in respectful way, hiring them for jobs occasionally. And that's exactly what happened to me. What is the reason behind my shrinkage? It doesn't matter. What it does matter, that I live in a warm community town with people that are fairly decent towards the bigger sized shrunks. That, plus the fact that I'm currently between 50 to 60 centimeters tall.
You see? Life isn't always dark. Not everything is evil, and sometimes the bad things that just happen to us are merely a small wall for us to curve the ball over and score a goal. Even when there's a mighty goal keeper standing you can still score the penalty kick. I was in the middle of my twenties when I was shrunk, still young, capable, ambitious, and with my whole life ahead of me. This made me try hard and put effort in building a viable life for me in this town. Sure, there are some dangers, nobody says it would be a piece of cake, but I believe in myself and everything will be alright.
For three years, I've been able to live reasonably well, avoiding being snatched by hungry lusting wicked visitors. I had to avoid other dangers like cars, dogs, weather conditions, and keep eating a clean healthy food and not only wasted leftovers from trash cans. Sometimes people are nice and letting me have their leftovers instead of throwing them to the garbage. Yes, I know some of them see me as their trash disposal, saving them the effort of walking few steps to dump their waste themselves, but it works for me too.
Occasionally, I tried to look for odd jobs. Some Norms were hiring people like me to do some temp jobs. The payment wasn't money, but a good warm meal or some place to stay at night. This time I didn’t have to look so hard. While strolling the streets scavenging for food, I saw an advert that offered a temporary job for the next month or so. The advert was decorated with the traditional symbols of the upcoming holiday, promising the best food and warm treatment from families to those who comply. The requirements are shrunken person, male or female, a size of at least 40 centimeters, ages between 18 to 50, and a healthy intact body. I check all of the above. An address and receiving times were attached at the bottom.
The following day I went to the mentioned address. A young woman wearing a bright yellow polo shirt with a logo on it greeted me. I said I'm here for the job offer, and would like to hear the details. She said that she'll need me to take off the recycled rags I use as clothes for a thorough medical exam, and she'll tell me about it during the exam. I complied, and let her lay out the details. I knew not to expect something very specific, with this type of jobs it was always somewhat obscured, but it sounded fair enough. All I know is that they will take me somewhere else to the industrial side of town, and the job should be done by the day or two after the upcoming holiday.
I passed the exam and a vehicle came to transport me and three other similar size shrunken people who were waiting. At the destination, I saw there is a large area with fences where the four of us joined a larger group of shrunks. All of them are within the advert requirements properties.
As time passes we try to talk to each other, introduce ourselves, try to figure out what this job might be. Nobody has a clue, but everyone give chilled out vibes, they like that so far no hard work is given to us. A Norm came and threw a bucket full of bread pieces and vegetables on the floor near us. I looked at my friends puzzled, but the guys who were there before us went straight to start eating. I started to have a bad feeling in the back of my head, but shook it off and went to eat some. Every few hours the ritual repeated itself, but not a word was spoken to us. At night we just went to sleep on the floor, at least the A/C kept it in comfortable temperatures.
Few days went like this. I used the time to talk to the other people. Some of them are men, some women. I heard their stories and they heard mine, we were just fighting off boredom. A norm woman wearing high plastic boots and white apron entered the room and told us it's time to be transferred. She said the holiday is near and a lot of people will want to get us, there is a high demand and low supply.
That irritating feeling in the back of my head, telling me something is not alright here kept bugging me. I shook it off again, convincing myself that each one of us will be sent to a family to have the holiday with them in a nice and warm way like the advert promised. I already told you, I like to be positive. I walk with everyone through the door as the woman employee leads us.
After walking through some elaborated maze like corridors we reached a room containing empty cages, perfectly fit to our size. Now I know something is wrong, but I don't have the courage to do something drastic, nor do the other shrunks. The Norm woman in white apron is joined by another, a little bit older one with similar dressing. The first woman tells us to take off our rags and put them in a pile at the side. Everybody just look at her and do nothing. The second woman repeats with firmer tone, saying she hadn't got all day. This time we all comply. If it wasn't clear, the Norms that treated us nice didn't have to do it, legally speaking we are not equal citizens or even considered humans anymore.
Everybody is naked now, they order us to each enter one cage. When inside the cages, the first employee comes to close them and lock the doors. The second employee prepares a hose to wash us with a stream of cold water. She explains that they have to delivers us nice and clean to the market, we need to be presented properly for the customers.
My mind worked extra time in the background, trying to build the final picture of what this job offer is going to end like. The first employee sees the confusion in our faces. She can't hold herself any longer from hiding her smile.
"What? They didn't tell you? Isn't that clear with the upcoming holiday and the traditions and all? Why do you think we only have family meal sized shrunks here?"
My world collapses on me. I genuinely thought they need us for some nice activity for the holiday. Apparently all they need us for is to be a stuffed roast at the holiday dinner table. I didn’t know that until now but evidently the town is known for exporting "free roaming turkey sized shrunks" for the holiday. All of the Norm residents keep it as a secret, treating us shrunks nicely until we are ready for the harvest. Cooking techniques have become so advanced, that they can cook a shrunken person to perfection yet keep them alive and aware. There is something about eating the tiny alive, letting them live through the experience, knowing they feel everything, that makes the ordeal of eating them much more intense and satisfying.
I was wrong. I honestly believed the world isn't as bad place as people claim. I truly thought that I can have decent life in this town. But no, I will not. Instead, in about two and a half weeks I'll be sitting on a middle of a dinner table while the members of a random family will eat through my flesh. Now that I'm inside a locked metal cage, I don't think there is anything I can do about it. I was so glad when I shrunk that my size didn't became too small. If I was bite sized, I would already be eaten years ago. I couldn’t escape this fate anyway.
At the market, I was presented on a table along few others of my fellow tricked shrunks. I can see Norms passing by, buying their groceries for the next week or the holiday. It is known that turkey sized shrunk is quite rare and expansive. Some of the by passers are looking at me with envy. On envy on my situation, envy on the other Norms who can afford buying me. They would have wanted to get me to their family dinner table too, but will have to settle on more conventional foods and lower size, cheaper tinies. The more financially capable customers, or those who can afford the more luxurious ingredients, gaze upon me more thoroughly.
I see parents and grandparents men and women coming to check me out, check out the other shrunks too. Some of them are comparing between me and my fellows next to me. I saw a mature man picking up the woman near me, he clearly liked her naked breasts. I saw a middle aged woman, she had to change her glasses to look at me and the guy next to me closely. She picked him. I saw a hot mom with elegant clothes, she looked rich. She took her time to pick between me and a chubby shrunk woman in her age. She poked her breasts with her finger and then poked my penis, she giggled and told the vendor she'll have me.
I felt a sharp stabbing pain as a needle and a syringe injected me with numbing substance. It took a minute for the effect to full take place, preventing me from being able to run or fight. The vendor used a sheet of cloth to bind my legs and my arms the covered it with tight duct tape. She reminded the customer woman that I can be stay fresh like this in the fridge for up to a week, or stay even more fresh if being put in a small cage and fed at least twice a day. I can't believe this woman has just bought me to become her holiday dinner main course. When I heard the price, I felt even more ashamed. Even back when I was in full size it was something I couldn’t afford so easily.
At the woman's home I learned that her name is Heather. She had a small cage ready to be used in her pantry. It seems like it isn't the first time it is being used, I wonder how many people became her stuffed roast before me. She put me in and cuts off my bindings. "The numbing effect should wear off by night" she says. Later in the evening, she came with a small bowl with some food inside. I think that it's some of the leftovers from the dinner she and her family just had. Before it was bedtime, she came with some sort of a blanket to cover my cage. She didn't say good night. I felt stupid when thinking that she might, getting ready to reply back to the greeting that never came.
For two whole weeks I'm being held there in silence. At least twice a day, in different times each day, someone is coming to give me some of their leftover meal. Slowly, I'm getting to meet the rest of her family. I saw her husband, he seems like one of those guys who take care of how they look in an elegant way. I saw a teenager boy, and a little older girl in her twenties. I think of my size. I'm too big to be a proper size roast for a family of four. I don’t know, maybe they are too rich they don't mind wasting and throwing out the leftovers. Or, maybe they plan to invite other family members like aunts, uncles, and cousins. Is it strange that I prefer the latter option? If I have to die for the sake of their culinary satisfaction, at least have them actually use me as food rather than end up as food waste in the kitchen's garbage.
To be clear, I don't want to be eaten. Not by heather, not by her family, not by a hot young and beautiful woman, not by anyone. I don't want to be eaten period. I didn’t think that wanting to have a somewhat normal life was too much to ask. How can they be so cruel? Do they really see me as nothing more than food? Don't they know I used to be a regular man? Maybe they are some of those people who believe that shrunks are inferiors, that it's the natural order, and that we deserve to be eaten by them. Those two weeks are really long time to go over this kind of thoughts, to dwell and stew over on my upcoming cruel fate. Knowing that I had number of days left to live, and I have to spend them locked in a dark cage in a pantry is depressing. To rub salt on my wounds, at the end of these two weeks I'm going to be gone in a humiliating way, being consumed to the sake of others, becoming part of their bodies.
One day before the holiday's evening it was time to be taken out to start preparations. I'm shaking with fear and terror, I don't want my life to end, not like this. All of this time I feel from the body language of Heather and her family that they like doing this to me, they like my misery, like it's a part of the fun from having the meal I am going to be made into. At this point, I know the names of the rest of the family. The husband is Eddy, the girl is Cynthia, and the boy is Jake. However, I have always been terrible with names, always remember people by their roles or features.
Heather starts with ordering me to eat something. It tastes strange. Later I realized it contained syrup that it made me numb right up until the cooking started, when it was no longer necessary. The preparations started by being thoroughly washed in the sink. I felt her hands rubbing all over my naked body, it felt nice. She dried me with a paper towel and placed me on a tray on the counter top. She called her husband.
"Hey, can I ask your opinion? I'm not sure how to do the stuffing." Heather asked her husband, who entered the kitchen in puzzled face.
"Hmm what do you mean? I'm not the best expert in cooking hehe." He replied.
"Yeah I know I'm just not sure in which way I should perform the stuffing, I wanted to consolidate with you."
"What are the options?"
"Ok, so there are three possible ways I had in mind, saw all three on some chefs social medias. The first one is the fish style- cutting open its tummy, removing all of the inner stuff, putting the stuffing in, than sewing the tummy back. It sounds quite simple, at least the first part, but I'm not sure about the sewing part."
"Hmm ok, what's the other way?"
"Ok, the second way is to carefully inset a small knife or a stick or something through its butthole, cutting all of the inside mush, then squeeze it out through the butthole. Then, the insides will be clear and I can insert the stuffing through the widened butthole and only need to lightly sew off the hole so it won't all spill out during cooking. This technique is a bit more complicated than the first, but it seems way nicer."
"Ok, I like this a bit better than the first one, what's the third option?"
"Well the thirds is the most simple and easy one, so as the laziest. It is just trying to forcefully shove thing down his throat and up his butt. There won't be so much room for stuffing, and all the inner organs will remain inside."
"Hmm I think I prefer the second way. What are you going to do with the inner stuff anyway? Do we even eat it, or does it go to the garbage?"
"Good question. I'm not sure how much I like eating those parts. Some people say it is delicacy. Maybe if they'll look usable after I'll take them out I'll cook the separately or add them to one of the other dishes."
"I vote for second way, should look marvelous."
"Yeah let's go with that. Hey, can you pass me one of the forks over there?"
I was there through all of this conversation. They spoke about me like I'm not even there. Up until not long ago, I was standing on my own, reaching just a little taller than their knees, and now the discussed the ways she can gut me. I feel my stomach turns upside down. I imagined the idea of being a stuffed roast will be the opposite of heaven, but hearing them talking about the specifics terrifies me.
The mother takes the metal fork, she holds it backwards. I can see the handle isn't wide and thin, but shaped more like a cylindrical stick. She puts it near me and grabs a smell sharpened knife. I can feel her hands spreading my legs apart, lifting my knees. This gives her better access to my anus. I feel the sharp pain as she spreads the hole and cuts a circular hole in it on the inside part. Then, through the butthole she inserts the handle side of the fork, deeper into my body.
I can feel the pain of the large rod penetrating me. It goes way over my intestines can hold, and combined with the recent cut it breaks through. The feeling of having the rod inside my guts is weird. I can feel her playing with it, trying to mush and scarp off my lower insides from the butthole up to the diaphragm. She pulls out the fork and inserts a dull knife instead. It allows her to scrap and separate my inner organs from my muscles more easily.
What comes next is pretty brutal, even when I already know it was coming. Using her hands, the mother leans on my stomach, trying to squeeze it out. She takes point to squeeze in downward motion, to not have my insides splash out of my mouth. Between my butt cheeks it feels like I'm pooping, but these are my own inner organs being squeezed out of my butt. Not all goes out easily, so she uses a rolling pin and tries to squeeze harder, careful not to crack my ribs. She comes back few times with the dull knife or the back side of the fork to scrap off some more, then squeezes again, this lasts for about ten long torturous minutes before I have no more inner organs except from my heart and lungs. Speaking of which, I have no idea how they still work, and how am I still alive. My best guess is that the shrinking process have some weird side effects like this one. That, or maybe they gave me a special substance that keeps me alive. Nevertheless, even without having stomach anymore I feel it turns upside down again.
My squeezed out mushed intestines, stomach, liver, kidneys, and other inner organs were scooped out by heather into a small bowl. She washed them with cold water and put it aside. Now it was the time for stuffing. I saw a bowl with pre seasoned cherry tomatoes, garlic teeth, and some green things. Then one by one the lady who bought me couple of weeks ago pushed them into my empty tummy through my butt. After all the horrible things that happened to me so far, I still managed to feel embarrassed and humiliated when she did it. It kind of made me feel even more as food rather than human. But I was still human, at least to my eyes. Heather stuffed me more and more. My tummy skin was stretched and it made me look fattened. When there was no more room, she roughly sewed my butthole shut. When looking back at her stuffing bowl, she saw only two lonely cherry tomatoes were left. She looked at me and smirked. She took one of the tomatoes and shove inside my mouth. It forced my jaw open wide. She giggled and snacked on the other one herself. I watched her chew it with closed lips. Soon, I'll be eaten by her too.
From then, the time was dragged out. Heather had other foods to prepare, as well as going here and there around the house, or answering phone calls or texts. At some point she covered my in oil and spices, then put me on a smaller glass tray. Lying down on my back, I was too big for the tray and her home oven. She paused and took a moment to think how it is best to fold me. She grabbed me and tried few ways, moving my arms and legs to different positions. Eventually she decided to lay me on my side, legs and arms folded in a fetus like position, but with more room for my bloated stomach. She almost went for the cartoony iconic position where I'm on my knees and elbows, butt pointing slightly upwards, and my chin is being held between the palms of my hand. She decided it looks good but won't cook my front side well enough, so she went with the former option.
Before I knew it, it was early afternoon and time to put me in the oven. I got nervous. I knew that the same effect that keeps me alive and ware after being mutilated this badly, will probably keep me alive during the oven. In fact, this is one of the main reasons "big" shrunks like me are so expansive popular dish for the holiday. It is really marvelous for the norms to have a fine cook roast which is still alive and used to be a "loser" human. The power rush it gives them is second to none, even some vegans get out of their habit and eat misfortune people like me, because for some of them we are considered "legitimate meat".
In the oven it feels terrible. The heat is intense, even if it's a relatively low temperature with long cooking. Just before entering, I saw the oven set for 150 C degrees. I knew it would take me at least three good hours to be cooked in this temperature, maybe even four. At the bottom of my tray there was some sauce which kept me from drying and burning off too much. All of my senses and instincts shouted for me to jump out and escape. At some point I felt the numbing substance I was fed earlier losing its effect. The problem was that at this point the protein of my muscles was already denaturalized and hardened. I couldn’t control my limbs anymore. The cherry tomato in my mouth became soft and cooked, oozing warm tomato juices inside my mouth. I don’t like tomatoes, and didn't like its smells and tastes, but why would anyone care? The point isn't me eating food, the point is me being the food.
During my time in the oven, I saw different faces coming to glance through the glass door. Most commonly was heather, the family's mother. The rest of her family, which I already met like her husband and children, came at least once too. Some other faces of people which I've never met before came too. I figured out that they are relatives, coming together for the holiday. I felt awkward, they came all the way to crouch in front of the oven just to look at me. They look forward in anticipation upon dining on my flesh.
During the long roasting process my body was being prepared to be eaten. However, my body wasn't the only thing that did so. My mind and soul were transitioning too. I don't know how, I don't know why, but during those hours of hellish heat my mind underwent a process getting it ready for being eaten too. I started to think more and more about being eaten, about Heather, about being eaten by her or other women. I remember just couple of hours ago I was disgusted by the idea, but now I'm starting to embrace it. I notice when I think of my flesh being chewed by Heather or by one of the other ladies coming to glance through the oven's window that I get erection.
This revelation suggests that maybe there is a part in me that wants to be eaten? A small voice in my head tells me I belong to her. She bought me and I am her property, her food. The same voice is telling me to be proud that she chose me, that she wants to eat me. She could have chosen anyone else, or a complete different dish to make. I try to fight off these submissive thoughts.
I think that at one point I fell asleep. I don't remember being pulled out of the oven, I don't remember being position nicely on my back on a new decorative tray, and I don't remember being delivered to the festive dinner table filled with lots of other delicious looking foods. Alas, here I am nevertheless. I see and hear multiple people around me, talking and laughing. I know the family have four members, but I see at least four or five more. I see a woman who resembles heather, only a little bit younger. I see her sitting next to a man in her age. I conclude that she's heather sister, the aunt of the family plus her partner. I see a mature woman, grandma's age, resembling heather and her sister. I see another young woman in her twenties, not sure how she's related. Maybe there's someone I missed, it's hard to focus on such details when you know it's a matter of minutes before parts of you will find their way into people's mouths.
I hear people commenting and congratulating heather for the extraordinary looking food. Some of them are mentioning me, pointing at me even. I look to my right. I see the grandma eyeing me thoroughly, trying to decide which portion of me she'll cut and have for herself. While I'm focusing on her, I didn't get to see only feel first as something sharp stabbed my left arm. I look immediately to see someone poking a fork and knife to carve out a piece of my left arm and deliver to her plate.
"Wait! Let's carve the stuffed tummy first. Cam someone take a picture of it? I want to post on my social media later." Heather said with excitement.
Then, heather took a sharp knife and sliced a line between my rib cage and my lower abdomen. A plum of steam rose from my stomach, revealing the pile of cooked vegetables which started to spill out. People cheered and clapped. Having their forks, knives, and spoons ready to jump in, almost everybody at the same time started to poke me all over.
It was hard to concentrate, because multiple people came at the same time to carve, cut, and scoop out a piece of me or my cooked stuffing insides. I felt like a huge tuna fish sitting cooked on the table, some of my insides and bones are already visible. Speaking about the bones, I only just found out that the smaller ones are edible, nice and crunchy, the rest will be food waste. Even though my body is cooked, I can still feel everything. It hurts when knives are slicing through me and forks stab me. I'm not sure where to send my eyes to. I see the daughter, a beautiful young woman in her twenties, bringing a fork loaded with some of my meat to her mouth. The submissive voices inside me that were being "cooked" in the oven take control. My little member was already erected, but now I notice it. A little wave of sensuality goes through my body, or at least what is still intact.
Merely few seconds after, I feel a spoon uncovering stuff above my crotch. Heather's hand is holding it, her face seems like she's looking for something. When she spots it, she carefully uses a knife to cut the triangle part of my crotch and deliver it to her plate. I no longer have a penis, it sits on her plate now near a scoop of some vegetables. I'm almost glad the she gets to be the one who eats it, feels "right" in some way. I watch her eat it with delight. I can only imagine what it would have felt like to have her lips and tongue around it when it was still attached to my body.
I see all of them, every one of the people around the table. I'm not big enough that each and every one will get a large portion of me, so I'm being eaten along other foods, other types of meat and side dishes. I see mouths, teeth, and tongues. Some eat me with manners, using only fork and knife, chewing with mouth closed, wiping their mouth with a napkin. Others, mostly the younger ones, grab a piece with their fingers and eat it like chicken wings, using their teeth to strip the meat from the bones or to even chew the bones. Every single one of them seems to like my taste. The women in the group, as well as the men, dressed nicely for this occasion. With the women it meant wearing some light elegant makeup and some lipstick. It makes their mouth and lips look sexy when they eat me, I like watching them eat.
My arms and legs were among the first to be gone, they had a lot of "pure meat" on them. Later, came the middle parts, stomach, back, and chest. When people came to eat my heart and lungs, I started to feel like drowning and suffocating. I knew it was only a feeling, because I kept staying alive, seeing, hearing, and thinking. At the end, all what's left of me was the head, minus the cherry tomato that was jammed in my mouth, and some bones that were too big to be chewed. The grandma pointed at my head.
"What? Is nobody going to eat that?" The grandma asked.
"Nah." someone replied.
"Hmm… nope!" another one added.
"Nah, I don’t like this type of parts." Heather said.
"Haha no, do you eat a grilled fish's head too? It's only here for decoration." Heather's sister joined.
The grandma made a disappointed face.
"So, you are just going to throw it to the garbage? Such a waste! You young people are always so picky, always so spoiled. If you weren't a bunch of pussies, you knew that this is the best part." She said with condescending tone.
"Well mom, you're welcomed to eat it if you like it so much." Heather said. She didn't like when her mother gave her this kind of attitude.
"Umm I don't know, I'm kind of full. It's not healthy to eat that much at my age."
"Whatever, mom. Do you want me to pack it up for you? I can put it in a box for you to take home, you can put it in the fridge and eat tomorrow."
I did not know what to think about all of this. So many thoughts went through my head, so many different directions. One part of me wanted the nightmare to end as quickly as possible. Another part, wanted me to be kept alive, no matter what. The sexually submissive part wanted to be held and passionately kissed by Heather, her daughter, or her sister. None of the parts wanted to be stored in a fridge and eaten tomorrow. None of them wanted to be thrown in the trash, which would just mean a slow death buried in reeking stench. The grandma took a second to consider and answered.
"Nah, it wouldn’t be as tasty and fresh tomorrow if stored in the fridge. Ha, I remember when we were younger we used to bet who can swallow it whole. Nowadays I'll only be able to eat it in two or three bites. You know what? I'm not in favor of letting good food to go to waste. I'll eat it. The brain and inner parts are usually sweet and like dessert anyway. Here, pass my plate, give it to me please."
I guess it settled then. The grandma will be the last to eat me, her mouth will be that last thing I'll ever see and feel. Even though when being the oldest one around the table, she isn’t that old. She is in her sixties, but still looks great. She clearly lives healthy life and takes care of her appearances. She wears a strong red lipstick, which is more typical for her generation's women.
At my current size, my head is in the size of a small apple. I'm naturally bald, so there isn't much hair on my head. A hand comes to pick me up from the serving tray and put me in the grandma's white plate. The plate is already messy with the remnants of whatever she ate earlier. The plate switches hands until it reaches the grandma and the rest continue to eat, there is still other food on the table.
I'm in such position, resting on my neck and chin in the middle of the plate, facing the huge face of this woman. She looks at me with desire, but not with a broad smile. She holds her fork and knife, looking directly into my eyes. This iconic look makes me feel humiliated, I'm totally belong to her now. She puts down her utensils and decides to grab me with her bare hand. Now I feel like an apple, not only share a similar size. She brings me close to her mouth and I see her wrinkled red lips. This is it.
She spots a blob of sauce at the side of my forehead, just above and to the side of my right eye. She comes to lick it off. I feel her hot breath. It smells feminine, with hints of the food she ate, and in a way I'm not sure how to describe other than say like a mature woman's mouth. I expected her tongue to be rough and dry because of her age, but it is actually soft and wet. She licks some of my eye too.
This is her moment now, as well as mine. She intends to feel young again, eat me I a way she likes, ignoring the sneaky looks her family members give her. First, she turns me to face downwards. I see her lower teeth come between my own lower and upper teeth, splitting my jaws. I feel her tongue on my chin and lower lips. Her upper teeth are closing on the back of my neck. She takes a bite out of me, taking my entire lower jaw, tongue, and what's left of my throat into her mouth. I can hear her chewing. It sounds wet and crunchy.
Her hand twists and turns me. Quickly, she comes to bite off my little nose and each one of my ears. She chews them together and swallows. She gives one last look into my eyes before turning me on my side and brings my face into her open mouth. I look directly into her large mouth. I see the pink tongue, saliva strands stretching from top to bottom, the dark entrance to her throat, and her mildly yellowish teeth. I feel her mouth warmth on my face, smell even strongly her breath. Her teeth are coming to press in the sides of my head, just behind the eyes. This is it, with this bite she'll take my eyes and front face off, crushing my skull, splitting my brain in two, which will undoubtedly will be my end.
I feel the teeth coming to their position, the lips are closing to make a seal. With the last of the dim light that managed to find its way into her mouth, I see the tongue coming to touch my eyes and face. I'm not sure if it is sweat, saliva, or both that is wetting my head. At this exact moment, the teeth are pressing with tremendous force, breaking their way through the sides of my skull, cutting through my brain, taking the bite with my front side into her mouth. I'm no more. What used to be me is now a mushy, bubbling, substance, digesting with other foods inside several stomachs.
Giantess World
