chapter 2

“Wakey, Wakey,” said a gentle voice, somewhere nearby. Sarah didn’t know about ASMR but if she had she’d have described the voice and its owner’s manner of speaking as such - naturally tickling her ear like a whisper or rustling leaves. The sun was barely up. Having only slept a few meager hours Sarah turned her head into her pillow and let out a lazy moan to signify her desire to return to the peaceful void of slumber. However a thin firm probing finger jabbed repeatedly into Sarah’s exposed and vulnerable jelly belly, tickling her much more than the voice ever could.

“STOP! ST ...uh-uh …OP!” Sarah shouted breathlessly between giggling fits, trying but failing to ward off the pokes until she sat up and scooted her butt further away. Whatever small part of Sarah had thought the previous night had just been a bad dream died then, as she was still in the “cage” apparently located in an actual real-life witch’s basement.

The light of day did not reveal much change in Sarah’s predicament. Scattered around the cluttered basement were many crates and boxes of various sundries Sarah could only guess at, and a stair case at the far end opposite Sarah’s cage.

Sarah’s belly growled its desire to fed causing her to blush and glance down in its direction, her hands going to its sides as if to shut it up. Gone was the “firmness” from being stuffed to the gills with pastries the night before. Her belly was empty, though no smaller – actually visibly a little bit bigger, Sarah noticed with concern. It was as if every last crumb had magically dissolved and converted into blubber in just a few hours. Which of course is precisely what happened.

“Some-body’s hun-gry.” Sarah looked up at that singsongy pronouncement, meeting the gaze of the apprentice-baker-girl who wore a very mischievous grin and giggled to herself, causing Sarah to blush harder. She had taken off her apron and wore only a silky white and very see-through babydoll over her bikini style panties, with a pink ribbon tied in a bow under her bust. Despite a slight feminine softness in her lower belly causing her navel wobble a little when she walked and squish into a line when she crouched - to say nothing of her perky b or maybe even c-cup breasts - Sarah couldn't help but feel a little jealous of her cute and slender frame.

"Breakfast time!" she said playfully, motioning to several platters she had set next to the bars. She then turned away from Sarah and stepped through the bars with her left foot. She compressed her bust with one hand, protecting her nipples from scraping against the wooden bars, and passed her upper body through easily. Only the cheeks of her bottom had to a tight squeeze, first one, then the other plopping through with a bit more jiggle than Sarah expected. It looked like a normal sized, healthily rounded butt, but her underlying bone structure was much more slender than normal perhaps, Sarah decided. It would have to be to slip through the bars so easily.

Turning back to the bars she brought a large dinner plate through sideways, grabbed some tongs, and took the cover off a platter to reveal several stacks of chocolate chip pancakes so well buttered Sarah could smell it from half a room away. She used the tongs to place four of the giant pancakes on the plate, then pinching the tongs together and pressing it down into the plate, used the tip to cut the stack of pancakes like a pie. Separating the slices and the individual pancakes as necessary she then drizzled almost half a bottle of syrup into every nook and cranny until the pancakes were thoroughly saturated. Using a spoon from the tray she spread a thick layer of sweet homemade whipped cream over the "pie" and decorated each slice with blueberries.

Throughout the process Sarah's belly would not shut up no matter how hard she willed it to stop growling, eliciting a giggle from the novice baker. Sarah would have blushed but was probably already as red as she could get. Sarah knew this meal was designed specifically to fatten her up, the frightening visit from the witch was hardly forgotten, but still it was taking all or her willpower not to crawl over to the plate and feed like a pig at a trough.

Sarah's resistance simply would not do as far as the baker girl was concerned, though she never really intended to let Sarah feed herself to begin with. She advanced on Sarah with her usual smug smirk and half lidded eyes, confidently shaking her hips with each stride, kneeling down right between Sarah's thighs and sat on her feet. Sarah could only lean back slightly into her pillows, cornered.

"I know you want this," the girl teased, picking a gooey piece of pancake pie up off the plate. It was all Sarah could do not to drool, transfixed by the sweet aroma, imagining the taste and the feel filling her belly with the fluffy treat. Somewhere in the back of her mind a tiny voice begged her to fight, lash out, dump the plate on the floor - but there was no way. She couldn't even move, frozen by a kaleidoscope of conflicting emotion.

Since Sarah was leaning away the girl tried to lean forward but still couldn't reach without risking a spill so she came up from her kneeling position, stepped over Sarah's thighs, squatted and plopped her butt down in Sarah's lap and wrapped her soft thighs around the chubby girl's middle. Sarah's mouth opened in a gasp at being mounted and in went most of a pie slice. It was an awkward affair with only one hand free - the soggy pancakes would naturally droop and drip, and the toppings would all slide off if not supported from below - so once she got close enough she just crammed it in, turning her hand over as it went as if to cover Sarah's mouth with her palm. Not all of it made it in this way of course: drips of syrup and whipped cream, the occasional blueberry and not a few broken off chunks of pancake too large to be called crumbs decorated the tops of Sarah's breasts, funneled down her cleavage and landed on her belly. Not that she was aware judging by how her eyes were rolling back in her head, the girl noted.

(This chapter continues, just breaking here because of character limit)