FatCat400

(Based off of an obscure game called Kingdoms and Castles. Witches in the game demand materials in return for spells and stuff) A big heave and then a big drop. Followed by a trotting away. The immortal yet beautiful witch leaves her small hut to be greeted by a load of foods. Breads, porks, fish, apples and even dragon meat. All there for her. Just a year ago the King of the realm had made a deal with the witch that said if the king gave her a large amount of food, the witch would provide magical protection to his land. He had held up his part of the deal, and so did she. She rose her hands up high and out came powerful green magics that dispersed in to the clouds. She got to work stewing the food up. Hurriedly she prepared the meal, before awaiting the recipient. The witch had been stuck in a long term deal of her own, having to prepare food for a powerful dragon lest she wanted to be eaten. The witch sat patiently for the beast to come from the salty seas, twirling her silky long brown hair and flipping her hat. Hours past, long after the dragon was supposed to come. Yet she sits there bored. Finally the dragon arrives, but not how she has expects. Its corpse washes up on the shore, seemingly having died of old age. The witch pokes and prodes at the beast, waiting for it to stir. Yet it just rots in response. The lady cheers happily at the site of its corpse. She was no longer bound by the evil beast's deal and no longer lived in of it. But now she had a massive pot of magically tasty stew with no one to share it too. It was obviously expendable to the King, since he gave it to her. So the citizens of the Kingdom won't need it. The though of having it all to herself was pleasing. And she decided to take a pot. She tasted her work and instantly fell in love. The taste was perfect, heavenly and almost addicting. She quickly sculled down the bowl in her hands and went for a second. She slurped it down, sip by sip, until it was empty yet again. The witch hangered for another, her belly audibly sloshing. By her third bowl, it was starting to feel tight. In her desperation for more, the witch casted a spell right into her belly. Her stomach instantly let up, enough room for maybe the entire pot. Her eyes lit up as she realised she could go for a fourth. And a fifth. And a sixth. By her eleventh, her belly was swollen past that of a 9 month pregnant woman, swaying and wobbling like a balloon. She couldn't help but eat and eat it. The enormous weight was starting to way her down and she simply casted it off like it was nothing. The stew was barely even finished even after eleventh servings. The witch was enamoured by the taste, almost captured by it. Serving after serving, adding to the ocean within her. Her belly shook and rippled as she greedily chugged a bowl of it and shuddered as she sighed in relief after each one. Half way through the bowl, the witch had a midsection larger than a house. The ingredients over time had gathered close to the bottom, making it stronger the further she got through the meal. Now it gave off pure pleasure, sexual even. She moaned and groaned with each slurp and suck, enjoying it like the sex she never had. By the next day, she was a slob. An empty cauldron and a full witch laid next to eachother. The swollen witch laid pleasured, bitting her lip in arousal. She played and slapped her gigantic belly, moaning with each ripple. The witch was satisfied.