Eva blew the last of the smoke from her cigarette and let out a heavy sigh, draining the dregs from her mug of tea, blinking sleep out of her dark brown eyes and smiling wryly as she looked across at her project for the morning. Resting on her Knees and forearms in a Cast Iron roasting tray Lay an impressive fattened blonde woman, Eva had almost instantly forgotten the poor girls Name, having renamed her to what she saw as the more appropriate âButtercupâ as soon as the witch had had her locked up in the fattening cage.
The girl was in her early twenties, When Eva had ambushed her in the woods three months ago she had been a slight thing, bearly a hundred and ten pounds but two months of minimal movement had pushed her to an almost even three hundred, her once chiseled, almost model-like features had grown soft and chubby, now covered with a generous layer of fat. Tears streamed down her fat cheeks as she shivered in fear and the witch hovered over her, slender strong fingers probing the meat expertly. She had already stuffed her meal the night before so as to save time this morning, it has taken a good few hours to stuff her analy, leaving the fat pig of a girl with a distended belly, and she had capped it off with a large thick carrot to keep the thick sage and onion mixture inside of her
âWhoâs My fat little piggy Hmmm?â Eva Muses in a sing-song voice, running a pale digit down her well-upholstered back, stopping half way down to squeeze a generous meaty roll, her unnaturally long tongue flicking out moisten blood red lips as she moved her hand down to weigh the girls buttocks, before delivering a hard smack that left a red hand print and set the thick rump meat jiggling for a good few seconds.
âP-please Miss Eva, donât eat meâŚIâll be good, I wonât tell anyoneâ Buttercup begged, her voice cracking with terrified sobs. âNow dear, do try and face this with some sort of dignity, I mean your proverbial goose is cooked at this point and all your achieving is giving me a headache! youâve had a nice time right? acting like a lazy porker, not doing anythingâŚwell now that debt has to be paidâ. The witches voice dripped with mock sympathy as she spoke, floating away to the coal-fired oven and lighting it, chopping Potatoes as she waits for it to heat up, dicing a selection of winter vegetables and dumping them into the bottom of the pan.
âAnd look at it this way, you get to keep that pretty head, I mean I could have cut you into BaconâŚâ. The poor morsels eyes went wide, her rosy cheeks going white as a sheet, âPlease donât roast me alive at least, Iâm begging you, slit my throat!â. The earned her a hearty chuckle and a patronising pat on the top on her head, followed by a squeeze to her fat cheek as one would do to comfort a child. âAwww, so cute when they begâŚâ.
The Witch then moved over to the stove, placing a saucepan on the heat and adding a generous amount of butter to it, a dash of olive oil and some grated garlic, the cottages large kitchen filling with the slightly sweet smell of the melting Dairy products, a smile on her face as she listened to the bound and partially garnished pig whimpering and begging behind her.
âNow, Any last words piggy? Hmmm?â She said turning around, holding a large round apple in her fingers, striding towards the girl on slender legs, tight with muscles and pale as the moon, almost seeming to shine with an aura of the supernatural. appearing just slightly to perfect to be totally Human, the air of a born and instinctive predator hiding behind her cheery personable demeanour. The Pig girl on the other hand just whimpered slightly, her eyes rolling back as she passed out with fear earning her a sigh from the witch who simply used one strong hand to pry open her fat mouth and the other to cram the apple in as far as it would go.
she then removed the pan from the heat, letting it cool slightly for a few moment, absurdly not wanting to burn the meat before it went into the oven. She poured the thick mixture over her meal, covering her totally and beginning to knead and massage the basting fluid into her, covering every roll and crevasse on the unconscious lump of Human pork. She then poured Olive oil into her dinners hair, getting it nice and covered before wrapping it in tin foil to stop it from burning, it would be styled again once she was removed from the oven. She then fashioned tin foil booties for her hands and feet, knowing that her extremities would turn buttery soft in the covering and not end up burned and dry.
After she was done the young witch took a step back to admire her handy work with a few appreciative nods. Her last step was to rub the flesh with sea salt to turn her soft skin into a nice crispy crackling. She then wheeled the pan to the oven, opening the door, the brutal heat pouring out. This roused the victim, her eyes going wide, whimpers escaping around the apple, straining against the cooking twine that bit into her flesh. Eva gave her one last hard smack on the rump and slide her inside, slamming the heavy door and sighing to herself.
There was a knock on the door. âAh, my guest are running early!â She quipped, to no one in particular, used to having at least one girl in a fattening cage to bounce, admittedly at times slightly crazy, ideas off of. She opened the door with a grin. âWelcome S-â she cut herself off, her smile widening, bearing her sharp teeth to the person on the doorstep. A plump, raven-haired Goth girl, looking slightly Dirty, her clothes a little torn, shivering in the cold air. âHello there, I was lost in the woods, and i was wondering if I could use your phoneâ The witch smiled a bit wider, reaching a hand outwards onto a chubby sholder and giving it a squeeze, âBut of course my dear, come in!, you look exhaustedâŚyou must let me fix you something to eatâŚâ
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