<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Girlfood on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/authors/girlfood/</link><description>Recent content in Girlfood on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sat, 16 May 2015 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/authors/girlfood/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>Accidentally Eaten</title><link>/stories/2015/05/16/accidentally-eaten/</link><pubDate>Sat, 16 May 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/05/16/accidentally-eaten/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Bertrand looked up at the woman coming out of the shower. Her body, perfectly sculpted, radiated steam from the warm water. Her soft skin was tinted red from the heat of the shower. Steam filled the room and somewhat obscured the view of Robin. Still, she was strikingly beautiful. She stepped out of the shower, water still streaming off of her in what amounted to tiny rivers to the four men looking on, and grabbed a towel high above them.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>A Willing Meal</title><link>/stories/2015/03/19/a-willing-meal/</link><pubDate>Thu, 19 Mar 2015 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2015/03/19/a-willing-meal/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Meredith needed another man.
It was a funny thing to think. She loved her husband and her family. No she didn&amp;rsquo;t need someone to love. Not to love in the traditional sense anyway.
No, she needed someone to eat. It was an odd desire she supposed but no less strong despite what society would have no doubt deemed irregular or even criminal.
Meredith had eaten quite a few men in her time. She had started as a young woman, devouring an unsuspecting teenager. Since then she had eaten many men; far too many to have kept track. Sometimes she would eat as many as several a week. Sometimes she would eat as few as one a month or even a few months. It all depended upon her mood and what, or more accurately, who was available.
Men, she had found, were delicious. Although it was the hunt she savored most. It was fun to give them what they would consider a sporting chance at escaping her. Granted no one had ever succeeded in escaping. Not a single solitary one. Despite this, it was fun to hunt them and catch them. And eat them. Oh my was it a turn on to swallow live something that understood what was happing to him.
Their reactions to what she did to them were as varied as those she had eaten. Some begged on their knees for their lives, pleading and promising all they could think of if she would only spare them. Others ran and hid themselves, struggled in her grasp and fought her even as she was lifting them to her full, open lips to be swallowed. Still others, and these were by far the rarest, were actually willing participants in a meal for her. Sometimes she would dine with them upon her plate as she ate a meal and drank wine. She would make polite conversation with them and even share a few jokes. Then it would be time for them to become part of her meal. She never once felt remorseful at their consumption. Only contentment.
Each type of man, willing or unwilling, had his charms and each was equally tasty and satisfying when swallowed. Still the glory of the hunt was Meredith&amp;rsquo;s favorite part. She loved the chase. And the reward at the end.
Three weeks ago a nineteen year old man had been running to escape her. He had hidden himself in a pail, one of her daughter&amp;rsquo;s playthings that had not been put away. Meredith had crept right by it without noticing the little fellow until well past him. She had been looking under the couch when she turned and happen to spot the man pressing against the back of the bucket like he wanted to become a part of it. Too bad for him that he was slated to become a part of her.
He had watched from an empty jam jar as Meredith had cooked her dinner, set the table and opened some wine. When dinner was ready she sat down and placed her tiny captive on her plate.
He had gotten on his knees and begged her to spare him. He didn&amp;rsquo;t want to be eaten. He was only nineteen. Couldn&amp;rsquo;t she eat someone else? Meredith smiled and explained that it was too bad. Nothing was going to save him from being swallowed alive by her. Then he had begged her at least to chew him. Meredith had declined.
She had eaten him with much relish, swallowing him whole and listening to his receding scream as he was pushed down her esophaugs. He had gone excellantly with the wine she had drank which had gone well with the dinner she had eaten.
Later, she had taken a bath. Meredith enjoyed the soak in the tub, the white, fluffy bubbles covering everything. Her stomach was full and felt warm. When she got out of the tub and headed to bed, she fell into a dreamless sleep.
It had all been so satisfying. The hunt, catching the man and explaining that she would eat him with dinner. Making him watch as she cooked. Eating him and the taste of his body on her tongue right before she had gulped him down. The dinner she ate afterwords. The wine, the bath. Most of all, going to bed with the knowlege that an entire man was inside her stomach being digested. He would never reach twenty. She had grinned at that thought.
Now it seemed like ages ago. She was starving for another boy or man. She had taken to looking out her window for a boy to eat like a cat watches birds.
She selected her prey carefully. Right now, her attention was focused on a man of twenty-six. Meredith watched the young man through her window. He was cute, in shape and exactly what she was looking for. Now all she had to do was catch him. That wasn&amp;rsquo;t so hard. Meredith had once been a model and was still very pretty.
She walked outside and began talking to the man. &amp;ldquo;Hey there,&amp;rdquo; Meredith said. &amp;ldquo;I couldn&amp;rsquo;t help but notice you look nice and strong. I was hoping you could give me a hand. I&amp;rsquo;m trying to lift this box in my house but just don&amp;rsquo;t have the strength. Do you think you could give me a hand?&amp;rdquo;&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Sorority</title><link>/stories/2013/12/31/sorority/</link><pubDate>Tue, 31 Dec 2013 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2013/12/31/sorority/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;The house was filled with about twenty or so young women. It was a group of sorority pledges that were at the last stage of the rush. Amanda, the group mother, looked down at the women. Each had the same thing on her plate. They had been given strict orders to clear their plate or they would be out of the sorority. If they didn’t have a boyfriend, a guy had been introduced to them the previous night. Each one was paired up and only Amanda knew where the boys were. It was the first real step of a slow recruitment process.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item><item><title>Oysters for Dinner</title><link>/stories/2008/09/22/oysters-for-dinner/</link><pubDate>Mon, 22 Sep 2008 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2008/09/22/oysters-for-dinner/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Jen Wright was one of the prettiest girls around. She was damn hot. Blue eyes, blonde hair, tall, athletic, muscular. Everyone wanted to date her. Tony was staring at her ass as she walked away. Her buttocks moved against each other with a grace, rhythm and beauty that can only be seen when looking at such an attractive woman when she is walking. She filled out those jeans perfectly. Jen must have felt his eyes upon her because she turned around and caught Tony staring. He felt the blood rush to his head and turned even redder when she started walking towards him with a smile on her lips.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>