Evanora - Vol.2 - Two-eyed Apprentice

Chapter 1 - The House on the Edge of the Woods

Author notes:

Evanora Series: Volume 2 - Two-Eyed Apprentice.

Welcome to the second thrilling installment in the Evanora series, timed perfectly for Halloween chills!
While Volume 1, "Evanora - Vol.1 - Feeding the Immortal Witch", explores the witch's medieval origins (available on my profile), it's not required reading before the Vol.2. These are standalone historical arcs, so dive right into this dark tale of enchanted feasts, feederism horrors, and eternal hunger on All Hallows' Eve.

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Halloween night in 1980 wrapped the Willow Creek neighborhood in a cloak of fog and mystery. The streets, lit by jack-o'-lanterns and decked out with fake cobwebs, buzzed with kids' laughter and the rustle of goodie bags stuffed with candy. Children dressed as ghosts, witches, and monsters dashed from door to door, oblivious that, at the end of the street where it met the woods, stood a house that seemed to exist outside of time. It was an ancient dwelling, with moss-streaked stone walls and windows of cloudy glass that reflected the moonlight like watchful eyes. The garden, a tangle of brambles and wild roses, gave off a sweet yet eerie scent, as if the earth itself were breathing a secret into that patch of ground.

That was Evanora's house.

Centuries had passed since Evanora had woven her fate with Rick's, her companion of old, whose body had fueled her magic in ways no grimoire would dare describe. The witch, eternal and unchanged in essence, had moved to this quiet suburb years before, carrying the weight of an existence that defied death, though compared to her lean, muscular medieval form, she now thrived better in this era, her body softer, almost slightly overweight, no longer needing to be sleek and tapered for surviving in the woos. Her beauty, flawless as porcelain, showed no signs of age: long white hair fell in silky waves over her shoulders, framing a face with sharp features and heterochromatic eyes, one pink like a forbidden dawn, the other blue as a winter sky. She wore a black corset that cinched her hourglass figure and chubby poped out belly, accentuating lush curves that spoke of indulgent comfort rather than her rigid old perfection. The long black dress that brushed her ankles moved with her like a living shadow, fluid and hypnotic.

The house, like Evanora, was an enigma. The neighbors, simple folks who spent their days at barbecues and gossiping, saw her as just an eccentric woman, maybe a wealthy widow with a taste for the gothic. No one wondered why her roses bloomed even in winter, or why the black cat prowling her garden never seemed to age. No one, especially, got too close to her door. Not out of fear, but from some ancient instinct, as if the body knew what the mind ignored. She was dangerous.

That night, though, Halloween brought a different energy. The neighborhood teens, buzzed on adrenaline and ghost stories swapped around bonfires, decided to challenge the "witch's house." Among them was Milo, an eighteen-year-old with messy hair and a leather jacket that made him feel tougher than he was. Tonight he was dressed as a pirate, which maybe made him feel even more like a rogue than usual, eye patch and all. He was the type who bragged about not believing in ghosts, but now, facing Evanora's rusted gate, a chill ran down his spine. Next to him was Lisa, his super sexy trophy girlfriend. She stuck with him for the social status; she was a stunning girl, but at this stage in her life, she played the slut big time. Tonight she was dressed as a zombie, just because later it would be perfect cover for some erotic role-play between them where she'd be a cock-muncher instead of a brain-eater. She wore a short skirt and a button-up shirt with knee-high stockings, clutching a flashlight with trembling hands, while the rest of the group, three friends armed with candy bags and teenage bravado, nervously snickered.

"There's nothing weird about this house," Milo said, trying to convince himself more than the others. "It's just some old lady living alone. She'll probably hand out gross candy and shoo us away."

Lisa eyed him, unconvinced. "Then why does no one ever come here? My brother says he once saw purple light coming from the windows, and that woman's cat stared at him like it wanted to eat his soul."

"Bullshit," Milo shot back, but his voice wavered slightly as he pushed the gate, which creaked open like a human moan.

The path to the door was littered with dry leaves that crunched underfoot. The house seemed to watch them, its windows like eyes that never blinked. When they reached the porch, Milo raised a hand to knock, but the door swung open on its own, revealing the interior shrouded in soft gloom, lit by candles that appeared to float in the air.

Evanora stood there in the entryway, as if expecting them. Her presence was magnetic, almost suffocating. The black corset gleamed in the candlelight, and her smile, slow and calculated, promised secrets no one should know. "Trick or treat?" she asked, her voice soft as silk but with a tone that raised goosebumps.

The kids froze, mesmerized. Milo, who'd pictured a wrinkled hag, was speechless before this woman who seemed too young, too perfect, for this world. Evanora turned him on without restraint. Lisa gripped the flashlight so hard her knuckles whitened, more distracted by how the witch captured her boyfriend's attention than by the danger radiating from her. The others exchanged nervous glances.

"Come in," Evanora said, stepping back. "I have something better than candy."

The temptation was irresistible, like the scent of fresh-baked treats wafting from inside, rich, warm aromas evoking chocolate cakes, sugary creams, and loaves straight from the oven, but with a darker undertone, as if the food was crafted to feed something deeper than hunger. In feederism terms, it was pure gaining bait, laced with enchantments to stuff and swell.

Milo, driven by a mix of curiosity about this incredible MILF and pride, was the first to cross the threshold. Lisa followed, jealous, while the others lingered outside the gate before entering Evanora's garden. The house's interior was a clash of opulence and decay: red velvet drapes, antique mirrors reflecting distorted images, and a table in the main room set with a feast fit for a king. Layered cakes, trays of glazed pastries, bowls of thick, glossy cream, and platters of roasted meat that seemed to pulse with their own energy. Everything was arranged with manic precision, as if she'd been waiting for someone to arrive.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" Evanora asked, slowly closing the door behind them. The lock's click echoed like a warning, but no one noticed. The teens, enchanted, approached the table, hands shaking as they grabbed the first treats. Each bite was a flavor explosion, a pleasure that coursed straight into their veins, filling them with unnatural warmth. Milo, especially, couldn't stop: every mouthful drove him to crave more, as if the food itself called to him, begged him to keep going.

Evanora watched, her smile widening just a touch. She knew what was happening. The food wasn't mere sustenance: it was infused with magic, an ancient spell that awakened primal desires, binding those who ate it to her in ways they'd never grasp. Like with Rick centuries ago, their appetite would become her power, their surrender her elixir. But this time, Evanora had refined her craft. It wasn't just about feeding a body to harvest its essence: she wanted a deeper, more intimate bond, a feederism bliss that went beyond flesh and touched the soul, turning them into willing gainers under her spell.

As Milo ate, his body seemed to relax, his eyes glazing over. Lisa, the more cautious of the two, tried to resist, but she gave in when Evanora handed her a cup of chocolate cream, whispering, "Don't you want to taste? It's made just for you." The girl shuddered but drank, and the flavor overwhelmed her, drawing a soft moan as a sense of fullness and heat spread through her body.

Evanora approached Milo, whose hands were now covered in frosting and face flushed with pleasure. "You like it, don't you?" she murmured, caressing his cheek in a gesture both maternal and predatory. "Nothing's more beautiful than letting go. Let me take care of you."

The witch's words were a spell, a promise of total surrender. Milo, lost in a haze of bliss, nodded without thinking, his body already feeling heavier, fuller, as if each bite was transforming him. Evanora gazed at him with eyes gleaming with hunger for something else, a hunger that had nothing to do with food.

Halloween night was just beginning, and the house on the edge of the woods was ready to claim its new prey. Evanora, eternal and insatiable, would continue her ritual, weaving a web of desire and magic that would bind those teens to her, just as she'd done with Rick centuries before. But this time, the game would be even more delicious, on a night like Halloween that granted her even more power than usual, making her momentarily almost like an immortal goddess beside these two young folks.