~Both, ~~WG, Forcefeeding - Retelling of a classic fairy tale
A mildly predictable story, but I still love it! Short and sweet.
Branches, leaves, sticks, twigs, and more branches. The scenery of the last week had remained monotonous, which Greta had found peaceful at first, but now began to annoy her. She reached up to push the thick growth away from her face as she hiked along the trail. Up ahead she could hear Hans crashing through some underbrush muttering to himself, periodically stopping to take pictures or jot down notes.
He was a horticulturist, and a pretty good one at that, currently researching Northern European deciduous growth patterns. Greta had always found the idea of the job romantic. Spending ones days out in nature with the sun and the birds seemed so relaxing, so unlike her stressful mid-level marketing position. She had hung up some of Hanss photographs of flowers at work and she felt that it had helped her focus. She had looked forward to being a part of his researching and traveling lifestyle for several years, and now that they were finally married, it had come true. She had followed him on his latest excursion to Bavarian forests to study Lord Knows What. Greta was a bright woman, but the ins and outs of horticulture eluded her and Hans was in too much of a rush to explain much to her. As a result, shed spent most of the week following his trail and trying to be a good sport.
At least its good exercise she thought to herself. One of her biggest fears about traveling out of the country and living in an isolated farmhouse in the forest was giving up her exercise routine and exclusively healthy diet. Hans was also in good shape, in part due to the active nature of his job and in part due to good genes. Greta had met both of his parents, plump old German people, so she guessed that hed be fighting off a middle-aged paunch later in life, but the idea didnt bother her. She believed that men were supposed to be big. It made them more masculine, better protectors.
What time is it, doll? Hanss voice was muffled through the leaves. Greta had lost track of time and was startled to see how late it was already.
Past seven, she said. We should get back. Her stomach growled. It had been a long time since lunch and the granola bar she brought wasnt very substantial.
Greta caught up to Hans, looking every inch the rugged explorer in his cargo shorts, backpack, and hiking boots. He gave her an absent kiss as he opened the pack to pull out the map hed marked with their way out of the dense woods. Mmm, my big strong man, Greta thought as she watched him rifle through the pack. The things Ill do to you tonight.
Hans looked up. Did I give it to you?
No, sweetheart.
Cant seem to find it He turned back to the small backpack and removed everything one by one. Greta felt a chill. Shed never been lost in the woods before, and it was getting really dark. It was so big and dense here that if they were lost, theyd never find their way out. No one would even know to come look for them for days! He had to find that map!
Must have dropped it on the last leg of the study. If we walk back this way well see it. Greta took his hand, hoping he was right. The fading light made it impossible to see which way they were going. They walked for what seemed like hours without finding any trace of the trail. By now, both were cold, nervous, cut and scratched by unseen branches, sore, and ravenously hungry. Greta was so upset she wanted to just sit down and give up. Even Hans was beginning to think that their situation was hopeless when all of a sudden he saw a light, very faint and far away, but a light nonetheless. Thinking it was their own house, he grabbed a startled Greta and kissed her full n the mouth! See? We made it! Lets hurry! Greta could have shouted for joy! She strode ahead quickly, looking forward to a hearty dinner and a warm bath.
As they got closer, they realized that it wasnt their house at all, but a tiny cottage in the old German style, dark wood with white scrollwork trim. Looks good enough to eat thought Greta to herself.
Hans was walking to the door. Well ask for direction here, maybe sit down for a minute.
Greta started to say no, but thought better of it. It did look inviting. Cozy, and smelled of gingerbread. Her stomach pinched her painfully. Waling up to the entrance, the door was open. Hans pushed it and walked in. The house looked as if someone had only just stepped out of the room. There was a steaming table of food, a teakettle on the stove, and a massive icebox. Greta got a chill. Something felt wrong. Hans called, Hello? Hello! We were lost in the woods.
Greta turned around and gasped. Hans! He was instantly be her side. Oh, I thought I saw someone, an old woman. Im sorry. It must have been my own reflection in the window.
After a thorough inspection of the house, they noticed that all the doors and windows were tightly locked, and the main room was set up in two sides that seemed to be perfect mirror images of each other. Each half of the room had a small oven, an icebox, and a giant table heavy with delicious food. Greta could barely stop herself from diving into the steaming plates with both hands. So hungry! She thought. Hans sat at the near table and almost mechanically started eating a piece of thick bread with butter. Greta thought, what terrible manners! But were so hungry and no one is here yet. Im sure they would understand. She took off her coat and walked it over to the other table, laying it out and pulling the leaves from it. She noticed a plate of iced spice cake and couldnt help herself. She cut a thick slice and ate it with her hands. So delicious, she thought. Hans, I cant remember eating something this good in forever!...Hans?
Greta looked up in shock. Where there once had been another table with her husband sitting at it was only a large mirror, reflecting her own half of the room back at her. She ran to the glass and pounded on it, but it was a solid wall. Soundproof too. She could hear muffled thumps, and guessed that it was Hans trying to break through. There was something impossibly odd about this, first a room that looked like it contained a mirror image of itself, then suddenly it because a mirror? Hans and Greta were trapped in two identical rooms. Greta exhausted herself yelling and throwing herself against the glass. That wont be any use said a voice. Greta looked all around but saw no one, only her own tearstained face. She looked through all the windows and tried all the doors, but nothing moved.
Where are you? Let us out! she called angrily.
Finish it and youll see him the voice murmured, no louder than a whisper.
Greta could feel someone watching her, but saw no one. Finish what? she said. Her attention was immediately drawn to the table groaning under the massive quantity of foods. Her eyes grew wide. Finish all that food? She immediately noticed an hourglass with sand slipping through it silently. She was filled with dread: finish more food than she had seen in her life, enough food to feed and army, before the glass ran out? She couldnt believe that this was happening to her. She began to cry as she sat down at the table. Sobbing, she mechanically ate the rest of the cake and another one, her body numb with shock, her mind in a state of disbelief. She quickly realized that she had finished two whole cakes, more than should have been able to fit in her stomach, but yet she wasnt full or uncomfortable in any way. In the mirror she saw her stomach puffed out, inflated by cakes, and she realized that she would have to eat that whole table of food THAT EVENING before the clock ran out, and that it would be instantly moved from inside her stomach onto her body to prevent her from ever feeling full, essentially enabling her to eat forever. Oh my God, she thought. She started crying even harder. I cant! I cant! she sobbed.
Then youll never get out said the voice. Greta gasped again- the hourglass seemed to be running more quickly. Better hurry whispered the voice gleefully.
Greta became frantic. Being trapped in the woods and never seeing her husband was too much to bear. She threw herself into eating with gusto. A plateful of German sausage, Weiner schnitzel, pretzel bread, more spice cake. Greta hated herself for even allowing the thought to enter her head, but she had to admit that this food was the most delicious that she had ever tasted. Each dish more rich and decadent than the last. She was finishing a pot of golden roasted potatoes when she felt something fly off of her shorts and clatter to the floor across the room. She looked into the large mirror next to her and was shocked to see all the ways that the huge quantities of food were manifesting themselves on her petite frame. Her cheeks were round, chin was becoming invisible, collarbones had vanished, so had her shoulder blades. Everything was smoother, more rounded, more feminine. Gone were her bony shoulders and knees, her flat rear and jutting hip bones. Her rear end spread a tiny, but noticeable, amount on the wooden bench on which she sat. Her thighs looked smoother, creamier. Gone were the lines of her tightly defined quads, the bony ankles. Wow, she thought, I actually have breasts. She actually unbuttoned her shirt to get a better looks at them. Yes, her bra was not only having difficulty clasping around her now fuller back, but her breasts had more heaviness to them, and were slowly growing out of the tops of the cups. She took it off and they rested lightly on her chest, still small but better defined. Her belly had seen the greatest change, becoming fuller, rounder, and mostly growing out to the front as opposed to toward her sides, though she did have small love handles. Ugh, she thought. Im pudgy! The tears started again.
Hurry said the voice, and Greta quickly realized that she wasnt even close to being done with the food, and the hourglass was halfway empty! She stood up, topless, and began to grab anything in sight, terrified of what would happen to her if she didnt finish her task. Roast vegetables in heavy pastry, thick stews, breads, and all manner of pastry, cake, fatty confections. Fruit tarts and turnovers, pie, and cream puffs. She stuffed them indiscriminately with both hands in a feeding frenzy. If she had looked into that mirror, she would have seen ghastly visible changes taking place. The button on her poor shorts had popped long ago and the shorts had slid down her growing thighs on their own, lying in a puddle at her chunky ankles. Her thighs were round, dimpling, expanding like bread dough, with a tiny fat roll above her knee. Her butt looked like two watermelons rising out of her much-too-small cotton panties. Firm and round, it jiggled with her every movement as she leaned further down the table to bring more food to her mouth, frantic with desperation.
Her arms began to blossom as well, with softness accumulating on them all along her arms, under the armpits, and dimpling her wrists. She noticed it was becoming more difficult to bring the food all the way to her lips because the arm fat rolls would limit her joint movement. Her breasts were firm and round but spread out and hanging down on either side of what now looked like a beach ball gut. Solid, perfectly round, and beginning to interfere with Gretas ability to reach the table. It pushed out in front of her regally and her love handles blossomed as well. Her panties finally split with her efforts to reach food beyond her massive round, rock-hard belly. Greta looked down and realized what the problem was. I dont have time for this, she thought, and quickly climbed up on the table on all fours and continued to eat as if her life depended on it. Her belly began to brush the table as she knelt, heavy with food. Eat, piggy! Faster! she could feel the unseen watcher goading her on, laughing at her increasing difficulty. She knew she must look ridiculous, a rapidly expanding woman pushing herself across a table top on her belly with her giant wobbling rear in the air, and shoveling in anything edible within arms reach into her greedy mouth.
Only a third of the time left on the hourglass and she was sore from supporting all her new weight, jaw sore from chewing, and belly sore from such rapid growth. She cradled it, now reaching out further than her arms would go, high, round, and firm, a huge ball of indulgence. She crawled through the dirty dishes in search of more. Tea cakes, veal chops, Cornish game hens, doughnuts piled high in heaps. A bowl of cream, an entire roast turkey, giant yeasty loaves of bread. A black forest cake as wide as her belly. The plates are getting bigger! She thought, and she was right. With now only a quarter of the hourglass sand left, she tried to push herself to hurry, but her new massive, and still-expanding girth made it too difficult. She heaved herself face first into a blackberry tart and ate it from the inside out. She smashed the yeast rolls flat and crammed several into her mouth at once. She tilted an entire pot of stew into her mouth and slurped it down without even chewing. She was shoveling in food faster than her body could convert it to fat and she began to get full, uncomfortably full, but she kept pushing, sweat breaking out on her brow. She must save Hans and herself.
Stuff, chew, swallow. Barely even tasting her food she slurped it down faster than shed ever eaten in her life. Blubbery rolls continued to expand all over her, down her thighs, across her back, under her arms, under her chin. She wobbled more and more as she wiggled her fat way down the table. A quick glance at the hourglass showed her that a scant 10 minutes or so remained- and she had come to the end. All that stood between her and freedom was a giant cake. It was at least seven tiers and altogether looked as big as she was. Thats right said the voice, youre going to eat your weight in cake.
Greta was so appalled that she almost broke into tears again, but steeled her reserve. Im strong. I can get through this, she thought. She attacked the cake with gusto, tearing it off in chunks, shoving it into her mouth, covering her hands, face, and chest in chocolate. Her stomach was so painfully full she was afraid she would burst, but somehow her body kept up, always managing to make just enough room for the next bite. She finished two tiers in only a few minutes, despite acute tummy ache. She threw her face into the middle of it and just bit and chewed, steadying herself resting on her giant swollen belly. Third tier down, impossibly. 4 left, and she didnt think she could make it. Crying with pain, she stopped, panting. She painfully rolled onto her fat back and tried to massage her giant globe of a stomach, giving it a pep talk as she rubbed. Come on, belly. We can do this. We have to get out of here. I know you can find it in you to finish the cake.
Suddenly, she did feel less stuffed, in less pain, and a renewed fury against her captor. You bitch! she snarled through a mouthful of chocolate. How dare you lock up my husband and me! 4th tier gone, the pain had returned. Halfway through tier 5, she had to stop again. This time, her belly was too big for her to massage. She cried out in frustration, kicking her legs uselessly, as they didnt reach the table. The clock read only 3 minutes. With a final scream, she threw herself back into the cake, chewing with all her strength, shoveling food with both hands, eating so fast that she almost choked. She found herself panting, breathless, but the end was in sight. She focused on her love for Hans and her desire to see him again as she crammed in the last hunks of cake. In a daze, she found herself looking at the bottom of the silver cake tray with only smudges of cake, chocolate, and her round-cheeked, fat-faced reflection to meet her.
She looked up just in time to see the final grains of sand disappear through the hourglass. She rolled herself to the side of the table and tentatively stood up, difficult on all her new-found bulk. She was elated! She had done it! She looked toward the mirror, expecting it to disappear, but all she saw in the glass was the image of a room with a table of empty dishes and a hugely obese round figure in it. What? That bitch tricked me! She felt hopeless- all that pain for nothing? Thats when she noticed that the big fat figure she was looking at had a beard. HANS!
Greta? Hans was sitting on his own wooden bench, holding his stomach and groaning in pain. Greta waddled across to him. The witch of the house had given them each the same task, and they had completed it, with the same results. Both were embarrassed about being seen in their radically altered form, but surprisingly, the sight of a giant, fat Hans didnt shock Greta. It made him look bigger, more imposing, more masculine. Similarly, Hans wasnt repulsed by Gretas fleshy rolling body. Where once there were only flat planes and sharp angles, now there were soft, feminine curves and those breasts! They smiled at each other, so happy to be reunited!
Look! Greta pointed behind him excitedly. Turning to look, Hans saw the door to the cabin, previously locked, had swung open to reveal breaking dawn, and the faintest glimpse of their farmhouse in the distance through the trees. Quickly, he took her hand and together, the two of them began a long, swaying, jiggling walk home
Hans & Greta
By SweetTea
By SweetTea
A mildly predictable story, but I still love it! Short and sweet.
Branches, leaves, sticks, twigs, and more branches. The scenery of the last week had remained monotonous, which Greta had found peaceful at first, but now began to annoy her. She reached up to push the thick growth away from her face as she hiked along the trail. Up ahead she could hear Hans crashing through some underbrush muttering to himself, periodically stopping to take pictures or jot down notes.
He was a horticulturist, and a pretty good one at that, currently researching Northern European deciduous growth patterns. Greta had always found the idea of the job romantic. Spending ones days out in nature with the sun and the birds seemed so relaxing, so unlike her stressful mid-level marketing position. She had hung up some of Hanss photographs of flowers at work and she felt that it had helped her focus. She had looked forward to being a part of his researching and traveling lifestyle for several years, and now that they were finally married, it had come true. She had followed him on his latest excursion to Bavarian forests to study Lord Knows What. Greta was a bright woman, but the ins and outs of horticulture eluded her and Hans was in too much of a rush to explain much to her. As a result, shed spent most of the week following his trail and trying to be a good sport.
At least its good exercise she thought to herself. One of her biggest fears about traveling out of the country and living in an isolated farmhouse in the forest was giving up her exercise routine and exclusively healthy diet. Hans was also in good shape, in part due to the active nature of his job and in part due to good genes. Greta had met both of his parents, plump old German people, so she guessed that hed be fighting off a middle-aged paunch later in life, but the idea didnt bother her. She believed that men were supposed to be big. It made them more masculine, better protectors.
What time is it, doll? Hanss voice was muffled through the leaves. Greta had lost track of time and was startled to see how late it was already.
Past seven, she said. We should get back. Her stomach growled. It had been a long time since lunch and the granola bar she brought wasnt very substantial.
Greta caught up to Hans, looking every inch the rugged explorer in his cargo shorts, backpack, and hiking boots. He gave her an absent kiss as he opened the pack to pull out the map hed marked with their way out of the dense woods. Mmm, my big strong man, Greta thought as she watched him rifle through the pack. The things Ill do to you tonight.
Hans looked up. Did I give it to you?
No, sweetheart.
Cant seem to find it He turned back to the small backpack and removed everything one by one. Greta felt a chill. Shed never been lost in the woods before, and it was getting really dark. It was so big and dense here that if they were lost, theyd never find their way out. No one would even know to come look for them for days! He had to find that map!
Must have dropped it on the last leg of the study. If we walk back this way well see it. Greta took his hand, hoping he was right. The fading light made it impossible to see which way they were going. They walked for what seemed like hours without finding any trace of the trail. By now, both were cold, nervous, cut and scratched by unseen branches, sore, and ravenously hungry. Greta was so upset she wanted to just sit down and give up. Even Hans was beginning to think that their situation was hopeless when all of a sudden he saw a light, very faint and far away, but a light nonetheless. Thinking it was their own house, he grabbed a startled Greta and kissed her full n the mouth! See? We made it! Lets hurry! Greta could have shouted for joy! She strode ahead quickly, looking forward to a hearty dinner and a warm bath.
As they got closer, they realized that it wasnt their house at all, but a tiny cottage in the old German style, dark wood with white scrollwork trim. Looks good enough to eat thought Greta to herself.
Hans was walking to the door. Well ask for direction here, maybe sit down for a minute.
Greta started to say no, but thought better of it. It did look inviting. Cozy, and smelled of gingerbread. Her stomach pinched her painfully. Waling up to the entrance, the door was open. Hans pushed it and walked in. The house looked as if someone had only just stepped out of the room. There was a steaming table of food, a teakettle on the stove, and a massive icebox. Greta got a chill. Something felt wrong. Hans called, Hello? Hello! We were lost in the woods.
Greta turned around and gasped. Hans! He was instantly be her side. Oh, I thought I saw someone, an old woman. Im sorry. It must have been my own reflection in the window.
After a thorough inspection of the house, they noticed that all the doors and windows were tightly locked, and the main room was set up in two sides that seemed to be perfect mirror images of each other. Each half of the room had a small oven, an icebox, and a giant table heavy with delicious food. Greta could barely stop herself from diving into the steaming plates with both hands. So hungry! She thought. Hans sat at the near table and almost mechanically started eating a piece of thick bread with butter. Greta thought, what terrible manners! But were so hungry and no one is here yet. Im sure they would understand. She took off her coat and walked it over to the other table, laying it out and pulling the leaves from it. She noticed a plate of iced spice cake and couldnt help herself. She cut a thick slice and ate it with her hands. So delicious, she thought. Hans, I cant remember eating something this good in forever!...Hans?
Greta looked up in shock. Where there once had been another table with her husband sitting at it was only a large mirror, reflecting her own half of the room back at her. She ran to the glass and pounded on it, but it was a solid wall. Soundproof too. She could hear muffled thumps, and guessed that it was Hans trying to break through. There was something impossibly odd about this, first a room that looked like it contained a mirror image of itself, then suddenly it because a mirror? Hans and Greta were trapped in two identical rooms. Greta exhausted herself yelling and throwing herself against the glass. That wont be any use said a voice. Greta looked all around but saw no one, only her own tearstained face. She looked through all the windows and tried all the doors, but nothing moved.
Where are you? Let us out! she called angrily.
Finish it and youll see him the voice murmured, no louder than a whisper.
Greta could feel someone watching her, but saw no one. Finish what? she said. Her attention was immediately drawn to the table groaning under the massive quantity of foods. Her eyes grew wide. Finish all that food? She immediately noticed an hourglass with sand slipping through it silently. She was filled with dread: finish more food than she had seen in her life, enough food to feed and army, before the glass ran out? She couldnt believe that this was happening to her. She began to cry as she sat down at the table. Sobbing, she mechanically ate the rest of the cake and another one, her body numb with shock, her mind in a state of disbelief. She quickly realized that she had finished two whole cakes, more than should have been able to fit in her stomach, but yet she wasnt full or uncomfortable in any way. In the mirror she saw her stomach puffed out, inflated by cakes, and she realized that she would have to eat that whole table of food THAT EVENING before the clock ran out, and that it would be instantly moved from inside her stomach onto her body to prevent her from ever feeling full, essentially enabling her to eat forever. Oh my God, she thought. She started crying even harder. I cant! I cant! she sobbed.
Then youll never get out said the voice. Greta gasped again- the hourglass seemed to be running more quickly. Better hurry whispered the voice gleefully.
Greta became frantic. Being trapped in the woods and never seeing her husband was too much to bear. She threw herself into eating with gusto. A plateful of German sausage, Weiner schnitzel, pretzel bread, more spice cake. Greta hated herself for even allowing the thought to enter her head, but she had to admit that this food was the most delicious that she had ever tasted. Each dish more rich and decadent than the last. She was finishing a pot of golden roasted potatoes when she felt something fly off of her shorts and clatter to the floor across the room. She looked into the large mirror next to her and was shocked to see all the ways that the huge quantities of food were manifesting themselves on her petite frame. Her cheeks were round, chin was becoming invisible, collarbones had vanished, so had her shoulder blades. Everything was smoother, more rounded, more feminine. Gone were her bony shoulders and knees, her flat rear and jutting hip bones. Her rear end spread a tiny, but noticeable, amount on the wooden bench on which she sat. Her thighs looked smoother, creamier. Gone were the lines of her tightly defined quads, the bony ankles. Wow, she thought, I actually have breasts. She actually unbuttoned her shirt to get a better looks at them. Yes, her bra was not only having difficulty clasping around her now fuller back, but her breasts had more heaviness to them, and were slowly growing out of the tops of the cups. She took it off and they rested lightly on her chest, still small but better defined. Her belly had seen the greatest change, becoming fuller, rounder, and mostly growing out to the front as opposed to toward her sides, though she did have small love handles. Ugh, she thought. Im pudgy! The tears started again.
Hurry said the voice, and Greta quickly realized that she wasnt even close to being done with the food, and the hourglass was halfway empty! She stood up, topless, and began to grab anything in sight, terrified of what would happen to her if she didnt finish her task. Roast vegetables in heavy pastry, thick stews, breads, and all manner of pastry, cake, fatty confections. Fruit tarts and turnovers, pie, and cream puffs. She stuffed them indiscriminately with both hands in a feeding frenzy. If she had looked into that mirror, she would have seen ghastly visible changes taking place. The button on her poor shorts had popped long ago and the shorts had slid down her growing thighs on their own, lying in a puddle at her chunky ankles. Her thighs were round, dimpling, expanding like bread dough, with a tiny fat roll above her knee. Her butt looked like two watermelons rising out of her much-too-small cotton panties. Firm and round, it jiggled with her every movement as she leaned further down the table to bring more food to her mouth, frantic with desperation.
Her arms began to blossom as well, with softness accumulating on them all along her arms, under the armpits, and dimpling her wrists. She noticed it was becoming more difficult to bring the food all the way to her lips because the arm fat rolls would limit her joint movement. Her breasts were firm and round but spread out and hanging down on either side of what now looked like a beach ball gut. Solid, perfectly round, and beginning to interfere with Gretas ability to reach the table. It pushed out in front of her regally and her love handles blossomed as well. Her panties finally split with her efforts to reach food beyond her massive round, rock-hard belly. Greta looked down and realized what the problem was. I dont have time for this, she thought, and quickly climbed up on the table on all fours and continued to eat as if her life depended on it. Her belly began to brush the table as she knelt, heavy with food. Eat, piggy! Faster! she could feel the unseen watcher goading her on, laughing at her increasing difficulty. She knew she must look ridiculous, a rapidly expanding woman pushing herself across a table top on her belly with her giant wobbling rear in the air, and shoveling in anything edible within arms reach into her greedy mouth.
Only a third of the time left on the hourglass and she was sore from supporting all her new weight, jaw sore from chewing, and belly sore from such rapid growth. She cradled it, now reaching out further than her arms would go, high, round, and firm, a huge ball of indulgence. She crawled through the dirty dishes in search of more. Tea cakes, veal chops, Cornish game hens, doughnuts piled high in heaps. A bowl of cream, an entire roast turkey, giant yeasty loaves of bread. A black forest cake as wide as her belly. The plates are getting bigger! She thought, and she was right. With now only a quarter of the hourglass sand left, she tried to push herself to hurry, but her new massive, and still-expanding girth made it too difficult. She heaved herself face first into a blackberry tart and ate it from the inside out. She smashed the yeast rolls flat and crammed several into her mouth at once. She tilted an entire pot of stew into her mouth and slurped it down without even chewing. She was shoveling in food faster than her body could convert it to fat and she began to get full, uncomfortably full, but she kept pushing, sweat breaking out on her brow. She must save Hans and herself.
Stuff, chew, swallow. Barely even tasting her food she slurped it down faster than shed ever eaten in her life. Blubbery rolls continued to expand all over her, down her thighs, across her back, under her arms, under her chin. She wobbled more and more as she wiggled her fat way down the table. A quick glance at the hourglass showed her that a scant 10 minutes or so remained- and she had come to the end. All that stood between her and freedom was a giant cake. It was at least seven tiers and altogether looked as big as she was. Thats right said the voice, youre going to eat your weight in cake.
Greta was so appalled that she almost broke into tears again, but steeled her reserve. Im strong. I can get through this, she thought. She attacked the cake with gusto, tearing it off in chunks, shoving it into her mouth, covering her hands, face, and chest in chocolate. Her stomach was so painfully full she was afraid she would burst, but somehow her body kept up, always managing to make just enough room for the next bite. She finished two tiers in only a few minutes, despite acute tummy ache. She threw her face into the middle of it and just bit and chewed, steadying herself resting on her giant swollen belly. Third tier down, impossibly. 4 left, and she didnt think she could make it. Crying with pain, she stopped, panting. She painfully rolled onto her fat back and tried to massage her giant globe of a stomach, giving it a pep talk as she rubbed. Come on, belly. We can do this. We have to get out of here. I know you can find it in you to finish the cake.
Suddenly, she did feel less stuffed, in less pain, and a renewed fury against her captor. You bitch! she snarled through a mouthful of chocolate. How dare you lock up my husband and me! 4th tier gone, the pain had returned. Halfway through tier 5, she had to stop again. This time, her belly was too big for her to massage. She cried out in frustration, kicking her legs uselessly, as they didnt reach the table. The clock read only 3 minutes. With a final scream, she threw herself back into the cake, chewing with all her strength, shoveling food with both hands, eating so fast that she almost choked. She found herself panting, breathless, but the end was in sight. She focused on her love for Hans and her desire to see him again as she crammed in the last hunks of cake. In a daze, she found herself looking at the bottom of the silver cake tray with only smudges of cake, chocolate, and her round-cheeked, fat-faced reflection to meet her.
She looked up just in time to see the final grains of sand disappear through the hourglass. She rolled herself to the side of the table and tentatively stood up, difficult on all her new-found bulk. She was elated! She had done it! She looked toward the mirror, expecting it to disappear, but all she saw in the glass was the image of a room with a table of empty dishes and a hugely obese round figure in it. What? That bitch tricked me! She felt hopeless- all that pain for nothing? Thats when she noticed that the big fat figure she was looking at had a beard. HANS!
Greta? Hans was sitting on his own wooden bench, holding his stomach and groaning in pain. Greta waddled across to him. The witch of the house had given them each the same task, and they had completed it, with the same results. Both were embarrassed about being seen in their radically altered form, but surprisingly, the sight of a giant, fat Hans didnt shock Greta. It made him look bigger, more imposing, more masculine. Similarly, Hans wasnt repulsed by Gretas fleshy rolling body. Where once there were only flat planes and sharp angles, now there were soft, feminine curves and those breasts! They smiled at each other, so happy to be reunited!
Look! Greta pointed behind him excitedly. Turning to look, Hans saw the door to the cabin, previously locked, had swung open to reveal breaking dawn, and the faintest glimpse of their farmhouse in the distance through the trees. Quickly, he took her hand and together, the two of them began a long, swaying, jiggling walk home
