Princess (Y/N) and the Evil Empress

You were on your knees, bowing before a mysterious evil queen had kidnapped you the day prior, you slowly raised your head up and saw her, skin like the inside of a pear, hair grass green and braided and wrapping around her figure, her dress was in two separate parts, the top part which hid her bountiful bosom and ample arms, and the lower half that barely hid her beautiful hips, which were so big they swelled behind her back. You looked into her peach green eyes and said “what do you want…”






“what a wicked tone, but since you ask,” the Evil Empress stroked her hair downwards, her finger tips looked almost like the sharp talons of a bird “I plan to make you my ransom, your kingdom in exchange for your safety.”






“ha! Like they’ll-” as you attempted to speak, you were interrupted by the Evil Empress cramming a big fat soft looking chocolate cake into your mouth.






As the Evil Empress shoved the cake into your filled gob, she got a big evil smirk, as she thought your eyes naturally drifted to her massive rump hanging into the air, watching it jiggle like the honey cake from the bee kingdom. Before you knew it a collar was wrapped around your neck and your dress was stripped from you, leaving you in nothing but your under garments, you nervously covered yourself up as the Evil Empress sized you up, and with a toothy grin said “take her to the kitchen, tell the chefs we have a human turkey to stuff!”






you were swiftly dragged against your will down the castle, whether on your legs or knees you were taken down to the castle at the bottom of the castle. You entered what looked like a fancy dungeon, with big pots and large ladles, a whole kitchen was mixed with a standard dungeon, with hand restraints on one half to boot. You were slammed against the wall and had your hands restrained, a large, round, cute chef waddled into the kitchen, clearly trustworthy do to her round frame. The guards left and the chef waddled to you, kneeling forward and accidentally falling flat onto you, your face getting smothered inside her bountiful bosom, the rest of your body becoming pancakes under her mounds of flesh and flab. After a few minutes of embarrassed eye contact and jiggly wobbling, the chef got off you and said “well, seems our beautiful Swan is gonna grow into a big pig!”






The chef waddled over to a cauldron and wrote something in ink on her hands, which glowed red as she lifted the large cauldron off the flame and in front of you, grabbing a ladle and stirring the cauldron lovingly. After about 15 minutes the chef pulled the ladle out and brought it to your mouth, forcing you to taste the pink liquid, it had a simple sweet Berry flavour, but the gooey goodness stuck in your mouth, like the melted marshmallow treats you sometimes enjoyed back at your home. You gulped and watched as the chef stood eagerly over you, asking “so, how is my cooking?






“Ish really gowd!” you said with your mouth full, swallowing before speaking again “is that whole pot full of it?”






“Yup, these cauldrons are my cooking pride, sometimes spend weeks tweaking the recipe to higher levels of perfection!” The chef said, feeding you another ladle full of the sweet goo.






You swallowed ladle full after ladle full of sweet goo, your gut swelling bigger and growing more sphere like with every passing minute. After what felt like an eternity the decadent stuffing had ended, the chef was ecstatic with how you had done, having managed to clean out the entire cauldron of sweet goo. The chef kneeled down to your swollen level and happily said “I’m so happy you aye it all up! Normally people throw up after a third of the cauldron but this makes my job much easier!”






You watched as the chef waddled back with the lighter cauldron, putting it back before igniting some ovens and preparing ingredients for pastry batter. You slowly began to lose consciousness, the massive weight in your gut causing a great toll of sleepiness.






A little while later you were awoken to the smell of freshly baked sweets, you looked up and saw the chef happily humming as she jammed the nozzle of creamer into each sweet, one by one inflating them with the delicious goop, making them rounder and even more delicious. You rested your head down and saw what little remained of your belly, which had shrunk down to the size of a beer belly, you stared at your gut for a moment before letting your eyes wander around you, your once slender, smooth, elegant skin, was now replaced with plump, soft, and comfy flab, ever inch of you was covered in it, from your ankles to your chubby cheeks. You then saw the chef notice you and waddle over, a tray full of the sweets rolling loosely, she spoke “morning sleepy head, I see my cooking did it’s magic!”






“Seems it did…” you shifted on the spot as you spoke, “but why?”






“The Empress has her dump truck for a reason,” the chef said, heartily chuckling to herself as she scanned the tray she held “and she doesn’t mind when a few of those new pounds going to her gut as long as her butt looks even bigger.”






The chef selected a pastry and shoved it into your mouth, watching lustfully as you bit down and entered a little baked world of euphoria, your taste buds dancing in bliss as you became shocked at how well made the sweet was. The chef smiled with glee and fed you the rest, running on the spot in excitement before running out the dungeon/kitchen towards the Evil Empress’s room. You groaned and felt what little you wore grow tighter, the pastry causing your weight to balloon again, your underwear growing tighter every time you ate her cooking.






Throughout the day you taste tested every batch of pastries the kind chef created, your waistline ballooning outwards as you finished tray after tray of delicious cooked goodness, your body looked like a blob of fat smothered in goo and crumbs, your face was a graveyard of crumbs, fallen pastry knights sacrificed to satisfy your ever hungering maw. Your chins were jam packed with the sweet goo, 1 through 3 they all had their taste of the gooey sweetness, you could feel them every time the chef climbed up to fatten you. Your arms were like round orbs of fat, far too big to move on your own, but you didn’t have to worry because the chef was very kind and stuffed you like royalty deserved to be. Your chest was as large as a pair of wagon wheels, two big orbs wobbling and jiggling, like two large sacks of fat only keeping their shape because the lusty chef insisted that you remain covered up. Your thighs and twin moons were massive, your thunder thighs were barely ever used, in fact the last time they moved was when your old pants tore and the chef yanked on new ones, your massive behind was a different beast entirely though, if you weren’t burping then you were releasing a hurricane of putrid green stink, and if it wasn’t the rotting skunk of a fart storm that got the chef to wear a mask, it was your absolute manure hill of a body, you sweated and burped regularly, your slippery skin only able to be climbed do to how spread out you were over the entire floor. Your body was jam packed with delicious sweets and baked confections, the chef and you had a lovely time every day, she would stuff you like a turkey, and you would eat like a pig.






Eventually you were saved, though to say you needed or wanted to be saved was exaggerating a bit, you were massively pampered and the concept of a diet in your state was an absolute joke, the closest you’d get to losing weight is when the chef hand fed you, rather than the magic she used nowadays to stuff you.


The End.