THE JENNY BEAN

Young Peter Dale was due to stay
For all his summer holiday
At his grandma’s residence;
Went through bushes, to the fence

Of the neighbour’s tennis court.
But none of them were playing sport.
Instead he met a girl, sixteen,
Who reached her fingers, ever keen

Inside her pocket, for a lolly.
“I would like another dolly
For this dolls house painted green.
So would you like a Jenny bean?”

He ate the sweet and thanked the girl;
And then the view began to swirl
Into one wild hazy scene.
“Don’t you mean a jelly bean?” 

He asked, as he sat down to rest.
“You’re going to be my little guest,” 
She said, “I’m Jenny, and I made
The Jenny beans, before I played

With dolls, so I could shrink someone
To be my doll, and have some fun.”
Then when his vision had repaired,
Itself, young Petr sat and stared

At everything now giant sized.
“I’m Peter, and I’m quite surprised.
Your Jenny bean has made me shrink.”
He rubbed his eyes, and made one blink.

He had not adjusted yet.
Jenny knew that her tablet
Would make him shrink, and better still
Double as a sleeping pill.

Nor did he know that she had more
New developments in store.
“Come through the fence, and let me play
My dolls with you for half the day,” 

Said Jenny, but the boy said “No.
I’m too small and I need to grow.”
“Now Peter be my doll,” said Jenny.
“No,” said he, “I don’t have any

Wish to be with you, while tiny.”
Then her eyes looked big and shiny.
“I shall come and capture you,
If you will not come on through

And be my little doll now Peter.”
She smiled with lips that looked still sweeter.
Peter knew she was not kidding.
So he did her every bidding,

Until the afternoon came ‘round,
And then he heard a rumbling sound.
“That’s my tummy. I must feed
Myself with lunch. So I shall need

To stop this game with dolls we’ve had.”
“Good,” said Peter, “I am glad.”
“But why?” asked Jenny. “It was wild,
But now I’ll be a full sized child,”

Said Peter, “Since you’re done with me,
Restore my size and I shall be
Happy to come back tomorrow
As a doll for you to borrow.”

“No small boy,” said Jenny, “Listen.”
Then he saw he pink tongue glisten.
“I have no beans to give you back
Full size, but wait until I pack

These dolls away, and then I’ll set
You loose in your own place, and let
You run, while I just count the time
Before I stand and start to climb

Right over to your garden side,
To find the place where you shall hide.
Once I’ve caught you, I’ve a hunch,
That you shall make a tasty lunch

For me to eat. Now run off please.”
She soon had caught the boy with ease,
And put him on her tongue, to gloat,
And sent him down her gulping throat.

LIVING WITHIN BOUNDARIES

For a special reader .... if only it were enough to help.

In the lifetime that I’ve fantasized of tiny size and vore,

I have never had a single aspiration, where I saw

Any suicidal yearning, which would bring about my end,

If I had the chance to be a meal for teacher, date, or friend.

I’d prefer the whole experience was amicable too,

Filled with mischief, laughs and chasing games, until the hunt was through,

Then some time within the kitchen, where you’d then go on to flaunt

All the movements of your lovely mouth, with ways your tongue would taunt.

I would like to live within you, by the process known as eating,

Since digestion has the awful side effect of just defeating

Any fantasy of being gobbled down through someone’s throat,

If a stomach full of acid was a deathly painful moat.

In my fantasy, the stomach of a giantess includes

A compartment, where the shrunken swallowed man enjoys the moods

Of the giantess, as she goes on to see the world outside,

Having greeted her diminutive young chap by opening wide.

We would have a great relationship of swallowed man and she

Who had gulped him down. It wouldn’t matter, that I wasn’t free.

If I still went on inside you, I am sure that I would feel,

So much more in love than guys who get the normal dating deal.

You’d be sweet and kind and friendly, up until you took the gulp,

Which would not reduce my body to an acid-ridden pulp.

No, instead, we’d be together for all time. I’d never brood

With regrets, when I was in there, that I’d been your favourite food.

There’s no need to build an outcome dream that’s steeped in death and pain,

Even if the Devil tries his best, ‘til Jesus comes again,

Causing seeming random suffering, while he knows his time is short,

When we’ll see the dead in Christ all raised to life, no more distraught.

Every genre has its own distinctive characters and trait,

But they’re not obliged to suffer, nor inflict a fatal fate.

There’s too much of that in news reports we wish were not so real;

And the victims, broken personally deserve the chance to heal.

Yonder giantess, please come and chase me, catch me, win the hunt,

Then dispatch me to your inner self, with every mouth play stunt.

Send me riding down your throat with all your neck’s great gulping force,

Once you’ve served me at the dining table as your only course.

Let me make my home inside you, living tenant, resident

Of your science fiction tummy. I’ll have truly paid the rent,

With the journey both of us enjoy, that somehow gets me there,
As we bring to life the hopes and dreams that each of us finds rare.

You’ve already brought to life the fact that I should be devout,

In resisting mainstream limitations, rather holding out

For a giantess connection, filled with vore dates and romance.

I’ll keep hoping it will happen until I can find the chance.