My Original GT/Vore One-shots

Crystal vs. the Taco Truck

A short story featuring Crystal from Giant Solidarity

On a rundown street in a seedy part of a downtown giant city, a backroom card game ended victoriously for one. Tonight's winner was a well-known local gambler who made his income betting on the ponies and hustling pool in dive bars. Known as Sharps to his friends and associates, this giant man of questionable morals emerged from the barroom counting his cash, which he'd more than doubled in the last two hours. A few extra tequila shots in the dimly lit kitchen of that closed tavern gave him the confidence at the card table to call the bluff that greasy, hairy-chested giant and he was richer now for the risk. Sharps was exceptionally lucky even for a gambler, especially since he had been playing at the table with his stepdaughter's college tuition savings. Never one to derail a winning streak, a slightly drunk and ballsy Sharps decided after he paid off one of his bookies on the way home, he'd place a late night bet at the racetrack.

Halfway to his bookie's boardinghouse, under the streetlights of the inner-city, Sharps passed other night owls, including two scantily dressed giantess streetwalkers winking and whistling at passing traffic. It seemed Sharps' luck was plateauing, as on this same intersection his favorite taco truck was parked with the OPEN sign flashing. The converted minibus out of which Dragon's Tortillas functioned, could often be found parked either across from the whorehouse or from the shady nightclub where psychedelic drugs were sold in restrooms. Despite Jorge, the overweight giant who operated the Dragon's Tortillas truck having to lay low in neighborhoods like these, the food from the truck was delicious. Even now going to place a bet, Sharps was hypnotized by the smell of grilled chicken and cilantro pumping out of the truck's aromatic exhaust.

         "Aw well, should reward myself with a treat," Sharps told himself, peeling a few cash bills from the wad he walked away with. It would probably be a good idea if he had some food in his stomach to absorb the tequila fermenting in his gut and a burrito would suffice.

In front of him in line, two younger yuppy giants gave their order to Jorge at the wide window on the side of the van. The chimichanga genius who founded Dragon's Tortillas handmade all the fare himself. Jorge placed four wrapped soft shell tacos on the collapsible countertop mounted on the van's side panel and gave his patrons their change. The twentysomething giant and giantess strolled toward the subway station chomping huge mouthfuls of ground beef and melty cheese. Approaching the Dragon's Tortillas window, Sharps waited until the previous customers were descending to the underground station and out of earshot before greeting Jorge and mumbling "Got any Carnivorous Nachos left tonight?"

Smiling knowingly with an evil glint in his eyes, Jorge answered "Sure do, one left."

Straightening his hairnet, the taco truck owner glanced down both dark avenues of the intersection before turning back into his little on-the-go kitchenette. Carnivorous was a codeword infamous among Jorge's customers in the giant municipality for a specialty, controversial off-the-menu item he offered. The shady foodservice giant unlocked a metal cabinet above the tortilla press and yanked out the fresh caught human girl by her ankle. By pure luck Jorge had come across this wayward human walking down the sidewalk without a giant escort, unwise for these tiny folk, particularly in this section of downtown. Undressing the ill-fated young woman in his palm, Jorge took the crispy tortilla chips from the oven with his free hand. Oddly enough the raven-haired girl in his clutches was not pleading or struggling. Actually she seemed to accept her fate quite quickly, making Jorge's job tossing her in with chips, sour cream, lettuce and refried go swimmingly.

"That'll be 12.75 Sharps," Jorge told the gambler, casually handing out the plastic basket of girl nachos to him.

The surprisingly laid back human girl, Sharps's delicious source of protein merely scowled up at him. Queso stuck to her hair and skin, tugging on her limbs like a spiderweb and Sharps couldn't wait to eat the attitude off her little face. At least she'd probably add some spice to the nachos, as sadly Jorge was out of his spicy chili salsa. Picking up the plastic spork, Sharps tried to scare the little morsel by eating a few bites of the guacamole and chips around her. But the stubborn little prey maintained her poker face and Sharps was hungry and in a hurry. Scooting the spork under the little humanoid's ass, he pulled her up toward his mouth with a dollop of sour cream and string of cheese.

          Crystal watched the humungous blocks of teeth slam closed around her, only slightly less cavalier than she had let on in the face of her eater. "Moment of truth," she muttered as the sticky, writhing trampoline of a tongue around her began to curl back and uncover the throat. Aware she had to act quickly, Crystal removed the stud of her left earring. Luckily after he snagged her, taking the bait, Jorge's balance beam sized fingers were far too large to extract the jewelry from her earlobes. As the stud on her right earring was actually an earpiece for audio monitoring, Crystal could only use the opposite one as a defensive weapon. With a smirk on her face just before she would have been swallowed, Crystal stabbed at the sinewy tongue with her earring repeatedly.

Immediately at the little pinprick pains in his watering mouth, Sharp's eyes widened in shock and irritation. As Crystal jabbed at his gums, roof of his mouth and inside of his cheeks until her biceps and triceps ached, he finally couldn't take it anymore and spat saliva coated Crystal back onto the half devoured basket of chips. "What the fuck?!" growled Sharps, spitting tiny droplets of blood.

Before Sharps could even think about demanding a refund from Dragon's Tortillas, Crystal wasted no time. She used the giant lime slice in the basket as a landing point. A squirt of lime juice shot up toward Sharps' face with unreal precision and struck him right in the tear duct. As her disappointed eater yelled in stinging pain, Crystal spoke the codeword into her communication earpiece "Garlic aioli!" she shouted, knowing she may be scolded for not using it sooner. With the code work for "move in" over the airwaves two police cruisers came zooming out from a nearby alley, as a third rounded the corner and screeched to a halt, blocking in the taco truck.

          Moments later members of the Human Relief Taskforce and local city police surrounded the impounded taco truck. Jorge and Sharps were handcuffed swiftly as a giant Taskforce member scooped wet and sticky Crystal out from the dropped basket of nachos. "Great job Crystal," the superior complimented her in the crease of their palm. "Not everyone willing to go undercover as carnitas... But why didn't you say "garlic aioli" before he took a bite with you in it?"

         "Now we can arrest the proprietor and a customer," said Crystal, whipping her jet black hair around to the back of her head. She didn't need to smell the bad breath and guacamole on her hair. What she wanted to smell was the victory as two more maneating giants were taken away and brought to justice.

"Wake up. Crystal wake up babe." Harley's pillar-like fingers prodded his tiny human girlfriend gently awake. Nestled amongst the dunes of humungous bedsheets, Crystal seemed to be having a riveting dream. But she was scheduled to teach a kickboxing class at the human shelter in an hour. "Time to wake up Crystal my sleeping beauty."

Crystal woke up and got ready to instruct the rescue humans in her tiny yoga pants and headband that wouldn't even fit around Harley's pinky finger. All the while her reflection had a smile. Hopefully that kickass dream portended changes on Crystal's horizon. In real life, she was indeed a human volunteer affiliated with the Humanity Relief Taskforce but it wasn't as exciting and glamorous as her dreamland suggested. In fact, human members of the task force mainly helped with desk work. Field work in the giant world was quite hazardous to tinies, especially since most offenders they pursued were giants.

"Someday I'll get a little combat experience," Crystal told her confident reflection. "Get these hands dirty with some aioli."