Without the presence of the spoon frequently covering most of her tongue, Pixi saw his best view so far of her tongue coming out, the lettuce being placed neatly onto it, and then her tongue disappearing into her mouth. Mrs Parkin was completely unaware of the effect that she had begun to have on the boy, and went about his afternoon lessons as usual. Pixi made a habit of looking at her mouth, while she talked. He did not want to be seen to stare too frequently, and he soon worked out that her mouth opened widest when she was pronouncing words with certain vowel sounds in them. He did his best to anticipate the uses of these words, and look closely at her mouth only when they were due to come out of it.

That night he turned into bed and lay awake thinking about the captivating sight of Mrs Parkin eating that salad. The more he thought about it, the more he came to realise just exactly the aspirations which were forming in his mind.

Pixi wanted very much to be that salad. He wanted to be spooned into Mrs Parkin’s mouth, or placed onto her tongue by her fingers and thumb. For nearly two hours, until he fell asleep, he imagined himself as the salad in the bowl, being spooned up by Mrs Parkin. He did not even think beyond that. His mind simply replayed every image it had stored, making believe that he was some secretly sentient salad item.

The boy did not dare to tell her of these yearnings and sensations. He wasn’t sure whether he feared that he would make her laugh or make her upset. In the next few days, as he watched her eat, he would look down a little as well, to hide the fact that he was paying so much attention to her mouth. He soon began to notice the way her lovely white neck would swallow and gulp as the food no doubt left her mouth and continued on its journey. This in turn added the thought of sliding down inside her throat himself as part of his nocturnal adventures of the imagination.

When Mrs Parkin would walk around the nursery, arranging things for lessons, he would only come up to somewhere below her waist, and had a clear view of her tummy. She always wore soft, dainty feminine clothes, and her tummy began to gain his attention too. He imagined snuggling his head against it. One day, as lunch approached, he heard a rumble from her tummy.

“Sorry, Pixi. That’s my tummy telling me it’s hungry and needs to have some food in it. Let’s go and see if our lunch is ready in the garden.”

Then, he watched her eating lunch again, and considered the fact that the food was travelling from her swallowing throat, down into that soft looking elegantly clad tummy. Pixi began that night, to incorporate into his thinking, the idea of having that soft lovely tummy all around him. Prior to these latest developments, he had not really thought beyond the sensation of being placed onto her tongue, drawn into her mouth and sliding down into her neck. Now, he combined all of the elements of his piecemeal discovered fantasy into one continuous sequence, which concluded with him envisioning himself inside Mrs Parkin’s tummy.

The next morning, he awoke early and soon realised that he would not fall back to sleep. So he read the next story in a book of children’s tales he had been given for Christmas. It didn’t entertain him that much. So, still having time before he had to get up, he went onto the next one, which was entitled: The Three Little Pixies.

The title caught his attention, and he subconsciously, automatically saw himself as each Pixi in turn. The story told of The Big Bad Woman, who had set her sights on three tiny pixies, having decided that they would make nice meals for her. Each of the first two pixies would sing “Who’s afraid of the Big Bad Woman?” mischievously and retreat into their houses, when she approached. Yet she had no trouble pulling their tiny straw and wooden houses apart with her full sized hands, catching the pixies and eating them. The final Pixie had outwitted her, by having built his house of bricks.

Yet it was the first two pixies that Pixi found himself identifying with. In the illustrations, the Big Bad Woman was drawn with rather stern expressions on her face. Yet her long dark hair reminded him very much of Mrs Parkin’s.

Suddenly Pixi’s nocturnal imaginings crystallized into one clear understanding, as he realised the implication behind all that had happened.

Pixi’s fondest longing was for Mrs Parkin to eat him!