© 2020 spawngts
I LOVE how this pic turned out (though I'm biased because I LOVE vore). Give me some love if you like it too! Also, you should download and view in full size because the detail here is pretty good.
Cassandra's mother always told her that "breakfast is the most important meal of the day". City Park was having its annual "Breakfast in the Park" week and so she decided to take advantage of it this year. Twenty-five dollars was a bit expensive for a bowl of strawberries and tiny men, but half of the proceeds were going to charity and so she gladly paid the premium. There were dozens of small tables set up on the grass, each one covered with a delightful checkered table cloth, ceramic plates, and silverware. They even had volunteer youth from the local civics club acting as waiters and waitresses. The whole affair was lovely. And surprisingly, each forkful Cassandra raised to her lips was delicious. The berries were in season and the mushy bite from the fruit blended well with the familiar crunch of the little men as their fine bones effortlessly snapped between her grinding molars. She savored the sensation of the pulpy strawberries complimenting the soft casings and faintly savory protein coming with each pleading forkful. Sometimes she would try to swallow the tinies whole but chew the strawberries. Other times, she would just hold the entire bite in her closed mouth; letting the heat and moister from her breath build as she tried to listen to the screams of the doomed tinies - each of them writhing in frustration, their frantic flailing almost weightless on her tongue. On her last bite, she paused and lifted her tongue to the roof of her mouth, pinning two of the bowl's smallest tinies. Cassandra purred to herself as she savored this final bite. Her giant wet tongue bullied and prodded their nude fragile bodies against her soft palate, each taste bud roughly invading every nook and cranny available to them until the tiny men had no room left to breath. They soon each suffocated in the reeking damp dark which seemed to collapse around them, its organic undulations oblivious to their imperceptible thrashing. A shiver of pleasure jolted down Cassandra's spine as she briefly detected the faint taste of tears from one of the crying tinies. However, realizing that this was quiet unlikely given their minuscule size, she figured it was probably just her imagination.
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