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Never Trust a Fairy Tale

by Mentalis

Joe was in trouble, or more specifically, Giant trouble.

Brock's thunderous footfalls behind him were slow and lumbering--deliberately so even, to watch the desperation of his fleeing prey. For every earth-shaking step the twenty-foo-tall giant took, Joe's fleeing feet carried him twenty steps.

And Joe was losing ground still, and fast.

Desperately, he wished and prayed for some form of salvation--maybe helicopters would save him, or maybe some kind of hole would appear that he could hide in... Deep within his heart he knew this was unlikely--he had deliberately left the safety of the city for a place in the wilderness where he could reap the riches of the beanstalk all for himself.

Unfortunately, the Jack in the original tale, it seemed, must have packed a chainsaw instead of a lumberjack's axe, for the beanstalk which supported the weight of a climbing giant had never been in any danger of being felled from his flimsy strokes.

"IS THIS THE PART WHERE I GO 'FEE FI FO FUM'?" bellowed the giant in mocking laughter, gaining in pursuit. "YOU'RE HARDLY AN 'ENGLISH' MAN."

"This isn't real!" wailed Joe. "This can't be happening! Giants don't exist!"

Brock, the strapping giant, only laughed as he closed the distance, breaking into a slow jog that kicked trees aside and scattered birds and animals alike.

"YOU CERTAINLY BELIEVED IN MY TREASURE, 'NOT JACK'."

"In the fable Jack was only discovered on the third round!" protested Joe, as a giant shadow loomed over him and plunged his path into darkness. "That's not fair!"

The giant chuckled again. "YOU OBVIOUSLY NEVER LEARNED THE LESSON OF THE FABLE--GREED IS GREED, WHETHER ONCE OR THRICE. AFTER JACK GOT THE BETTER OF ME ONCE, DID YOU THINK I WOULD BE SO CARELESS IN THE FUTURE?"

The hapless human cried out in shock as gnarled fingers as thick as small trees closed around his body and lifted him up with a surprising gentleness. In that space of panic, Joe's recent memories flashed through his mind--his amazement and incredulity when his son returned home, claiming to have traded his scooter for 'magic beans' from a short robed figure, and his subsequent dilemma.

Joe had been deep in gambling debts and desperate for something more profitable than 'honest work', plus the beans had seemed oddly real--they pulsed in his hand. And so Joe decided that he would find his own fairy-tale ending of riches, with of course a little improvement on the original tale to ensure he did not get caught--he would stop after two attempts.

But as it turned out, fairy-tale giants could be remarkably modern in their security systems. He had only begun his search for treasure for an hour or so (after marvelling at the sheer immenseness of his surroundings) when some form of an alarm blared throughout the gigantic castle.

And so he had fled in panic back to the beanstalk, without so much as a sniff of the treasure he had struggled for. And now, he was being lifted on a sweaty palm the size of a dinner table. The giant's barely-laboured breath poured over him like a hot stale wind as Brock brought his hand up to his face level.

"Please! Let me go! I don't want to die!" pleaded Joe, tears of desperation streaming down his face.

Brock's grin of flashing white teeth only widened. "NOT GOOD ENOUGH," his voice boomed so loudly in proximity that the human cowered against the meaty floor. "I'M TIRED OF HAVING INTRUDERS 'PLAYING JACK'."

"I'll do anything for you as long as you let me live!" screamed the hapless human.

"ANYTHING?"

Had Joe been paying any attention to the giant's face instead of his own predicament, he might have noted the hungry look that flashed across Brock's eyes.

"Yes! Anything!"

"ALRIGHT, HUMAN. I WILL LET YOU LIVE..."

Brock's grin parted to reveal a cavernous jaw long dripping with anticipation since the beginning of the chase.

"INSIDE ME."

Joe barely had time to scream as the hand tilted him forward towards the slick welcoming pink mat of an extended tongue, sliding out from within a doorframe of stretched jaw muscles. The human garbled frantically as he was pressed against the slippery warm flesh of the tongue, scrambling to free himself.

Then the sight of the plunging 20 foot drop beneath him cause Joe to conversely hold onto the tongue for his dear life. A deep rumble echoed from the vast chambers of the giant's throat, past the dangling uvula, and splattered wetly on Joe's face. Immediately, the tongue retracted, pulling the human headfirst past rows of teeth into the dripping, fetid mouth chamber.

Joe released his grip on the tongue and flailed wildly, trying to head back out, but the giant's lips closed around his legs, sealing his way out with a sucking noise.

"NO! LET ME OUT!"

The giant's tongue jerked as his head was tilted backward, and Joe found himself pitching forwards slowly into the welcoming tunnel of the throat, suspended like a tetherball between the two walls of flesh by his legs. He was now thoroughly coated with foul smelling drool from his surroundings, and his legs were beginning to...

Slip.

Like a passenger in a roller coaster ride, Joe knew with a dread realization that he was past the turning point of ascension, and that the only way left was down.

His muffled screams were cut off as his head and shoulders pitched into the giant's throat, the uvula tickling against his back as the walls of throaty flesh begin to contort around him. His hands reached out futilely for some sort of a hold, but found no purchase on the slickened surroundings.

There was a low rumble of satisfaction from the giant as he savoured the struggles and tastes of his meal. Brock tilted his head further and further back, readying for the task of getting the human's troublesome shoulders through. Then, without warning, the giant inhaled with a slurping noise that pulled Joe out of the mouth and fully into the throat that stretched tenuously to contain the large prey.

Brock felt the struggles within the sizeable bulge in his throat and knew that he had to be quick--he would not be able to breathe in the mean time, and the throat was not normally suited to prey this size, but the stomach would hold the human easily enough.

The giant's throat rippled with slow but powerful gulps that sent the bulge moving along steadily, while his hands pressed against the bulge, both enjoying the wriggling sensation while forcing it downwards.

With a final contraction of throat muscles, Joe's head and shoulders pushed past a thick ring of coiled muscle and into a humid, sweltering chamber that reeked far worse than the mouth and throat. The human had long since ceased screaming and had his eyes closed, acknowledging the futility of his struggles, but as his head smacked wetly against a flashy slimy wall, his eyes opened for the first time since the descent.

Even in the pitch blackness of the stomach, the glitter of coins, gems and even a small harp shone through the murk and gunk of the chamber with their own light.

Joe's hands, now freed from the peristalsis of the throat, reached out, feeling the distinctive coldness of gold and other precious metals to his sides, blanketed in the same viscous fluids as himself. Slowly, the rest of his body joined him in the growing expanse of the giant's belly as his mind came to terms with the situation.

"YOU SEE, 'NOT JACK'," roared the voice of the giant, now all around him, as Joe's world bounced up and down with the giant's satisfied petting of his belly. "I DECIDED THAT THERE WAS ONLYONE SAFE PLACEFOR MY TREASURE, WHERE I WOULDN'T MIND IF THIEVES LIKE YOU DISCOVERED."

"Nooo!" wailed Joe, scrambling to his feet, but the resounding tremble of the giant's belch and the blast of wind knocked him face first into the muck and treasure. The rumbling continued with the giant's laughter.

"LOOK AFTER MY TREASURE, 'NOT JACK'. YOU HAVE THE REST OF YOUR LIFE TO ENJOY IT NOW."

On that final note, Brock the giant settled down to rest, his hands stroking lovingly at the bulges in his belly where his prey, and his treasure, would always be safe.