Chapter 7 - part vii

A month later Sarah stood naked in her cell, letting her new and growing pudge settle naturally according to gravity. The witch was washing her gown, which had been getting progressively tighter as time went on. Sarah thought she must be half again as heavy as when college started. She looked at herself in the full-length mirror Gryselda had placed on the wall outside the cage.

Her face was no longer slim, though the impression of it remained; it was as if someone had tacked on a layer of skin-covered jelly behind and under her formerly thin cheeks and chin. She looked a bit like an older Shirley Temple, with a healthy amount of baby fat, once you included her curly, dirty blonde hair. Her breasts had grown a full size, but that wasn't saying much; better to say she now had a bosom at all. Her protruding belly, wide hips, and swaying bottom bore the brunt of her fattening, though her thighs were certainly much rounder as well.

The witch returned and handed the gown through the bars, after a long, loving look at Sarah's progress. Sarah used to tremble when Gryselda admired her like that, and considering how big she'd gotten it occurred to her that her time might almost be up. Now, for all the anxiety that should have washed over her, Sarah simply blushed at the attention. Sometimes she thought the witch was sizing her up as a partner as much as a meal.

The gown clung to her round body uncomfortably.

'Turn around for me, slowly.' The witch commanded and Sarah complied. 'Now, stop... wiggle your bottom a bit...'

Sarah gave a half-hearted shake and found, worryingly, that her backside did most of the wiggling on its own.

'Now, walk to the far corner, then back to me.' Ordered the witch.

Sarah waddled the short few steps away from her captor and then back towards her, the dress groaning under the strain of her plush figure with each step. Gryselda gave a long, cooing, approving noise.

'Don't worry dumpling, you're not fat enough yet, but you're growing well.' The witch leaned in close to the bars as Sarah tried to stare her down, her blush deflated the attempt. 'You're getting to be such a big girl you need more room in your clothes, again. Undress for me dear, then it's time for lunch.'

...

After another fattening lunch, and feeling stuffed to the gills, Sarah waited sprawled out on the pillows of her cell for Gryselda to bring her the gown back. As her frame grew new padding week by week, Sarah was desperate for a way out. Surely, her family was missing her, her friends were missing her, her roommate had to be going 'wtf,' and all the boys on her list, surely, were missing her too. Even, she conceded, if you took her love interests out of the equation, she had a lot going on back in her life... way too much to end up as the main course for a witch!

Her plan was both simple and crazy, and she hoped it was crazy enough to work.

'You're such a tease.' Sarah whispered.

Gryselda seemed genuinely surprised, standing next to the bars with the re-sized dress folded neatly in her arms. Her eyes widened slightly, her posture erect and alert.

'You... you don't look at me like you want to... cook me...' Sarah stuttered. 'You look at me like you want to... "eat me."'

The witch smiled and leaned seductively against the bars, her eyes sizing Sarah up mischievously.

'...And... you have me parade around for you... don't you think I know how you look at my figure?' Sarah asked, more boldly.

'Yes, you're a growing girl. My pretty piggy, my tender rabbit, my roly-poly little mouse.' Gryselda practically purred.

'And the nicknames... The way you flirt with me...' Sarah stretched out and then curled up, rubbing her full thighs together and doing her best, admittedly amateur, impression of seduction. 'I know you want me.'

Gryselda laughed long and hard, the high, giddy, belting laugh of the mad. Sarah stopped dead in her tracks and prayed that the witch was simply mad with love, or at least lust. A fresh terror entered her mind: if Gryselda couldn't be seduced then Sarah was as good as cooked. A nagging doubt formed behind that: was Sarah going mad, lusting after the very woman who was going to murder and cannibalize her?

When the laughter ended, the witch gazed long and longingly on Sarah's naked body, with the longest look being to stare lovingly into the frightened girl's eyes.

'You say I'm a tease, but you love it so. I see how you blush, how you obey me, how you... touch yourself sometimes after I flirt with you.' Gryselda leaned forward to press her ample bosom to the bars. 'What do... you... want?'

Sarah stood up slowly. She pressed her thighs together and held her small, chubby hands over her small, but growing, breasts. She was aware of how her body jiggled with each movement; and though she was red with desire and fear, she felt a chill run down her back.

'Dress me...' She whispered.

'Pardon?' Asked Gryselda, knowingly.

'You feed me so well, but you keep me at a distance...' Sarah was practically pleading. 'I want you to come in here... I want you to... feel me... more than just my hands... I want you to dress me.'

The witch unlocked the door seemingly with a touch. She sauntered in, her own tight green dress clinging to her womanly curves. She tip-toed around her naked captive and bade her raise her arms over her head. The Amazonian witch stood almost head and shoulders over her short, round, submissive prey. Sarah's forearms and hands were caught and enveloped in the white dress rapidly.

Gryselda's palms traced the outsides of Sarah's cushioned upper arms and petite shoulders. It was the most touching that Sarah had ever had from a woman, and though not quite chaste, so little was more than enough to make her cheeks, belly, and loins red and her chest pert. Her mind raced with doubt, guilt, and fear. How could she be aroused by a woman at all? How could she be aroused by the woman who kidnapped and caged her? What if the witch decided, now that she was feeling Sarah up, up close, that Sarah really was fat enough to eat?

The witch took a moment to make sure Sarah's head was through the collar of the gown, then resumed her heavy petting. She lingered her hands on the sides of Sarah's breasts and teased the little pockets of pudge behind them, on her back. The trembling girl whimpered. Gryselda slid her soft, dainty hands down and pinched two handfuls of Sarah love-handles. The girl almost cried out in terror, sure that she would soon be on the menu, until the witch pressed herself against Sarah from behind.

The swell of the witch's plump breasts up to her back, the pressure of her soft abdomen against Sarah's fat bottom, Gryselda's hands tracing the curves of Sarah's wide hips, it all built pressure in the girl so much that she gasped with desire. The witch let the dress fall around the girl's legs, then seized and fondled Sarah's hands.

Gryselda laid her hands over Sarah's, both resting on the full of the captive girl's own growing belly.

'Say it...' The witch whispered lovingly.

'What... do you want me to say...?' Asked the submissive Sarah.

'I want you to say... "Plump..."' Gryselda said, as she gave her prey a gentle squeeze.

'... Plump...' Sarah trembled as she complied, and squeaked when the witch poked her teasingly as she said it.

'Again...' Said the witch, rubbing her loins against Sarah's wide bottom.

'... Plump...' Whispered Sarah. 'Plump... Plump... Plump...' She whimpered after each word and the corresponding poke or squeeze from Gryselda.

'You are, without a doubt, the most adorable girl I've ever had.' Gryselda whispered in Sarah's ear. 'I honestly don't know how I'll bring myself to eat you.'

Sarah wanted so badly to relax in Gryselda's arms, but the reality of her danger remained.

'You've gotten quite... plump...' Sarah whimpered again at both Gryselda's touch and her teasing. 'Plump enough, actually. Normally, I'd have eaten you by now. But you are so much fun to pamper, and you're cooperating so well, I think I'll keep you a while longer. I want to see what you look like, how you feel, once you're nice... and... fat...'

'Who... who knows? You might even decide to keep me... just... keep me.' Sarah suggested, hesitantly.

'Who knows, I might just do that.' Said Gryselda.