Impromptu Story – Steampunk!Isley and Witchy

Isley looked at the boiling cauldron she was siting in, then up to the green skinned woman cutting carrots overhead. Every slice fell into the red tinted water below with a small plop. Once it was finished, she tossed it over her shoulder, grabbed a wooden spoon, and started to stir.

“Excuse me, Miss Witchy?” She asked. “I could've done this for you.”

The hungry witch lightly tapped her forehead. “Whose the chef with the recipe, hm?”

“Sorry, ma'am.”

“Don't be sorry.” Witchy replied before tapping her head again. “Be quiet.”

Isley didn't say another word as she rubbed the sore spot on her head. After stirring a little bit longer, Witchy lifted the spoon, slightly filled with stew, and brought it to her lips.

“It just needs one more thing.” Witchy whispered to herself before going to a cupboard lined with spices and seasonings. She traced her finger over every little bottle, uttering each name. When she found the perfect spice, she snatched it out of its place and quickly returned to the cauldron. Just a few gentle shakes around the girl relaxing in the cauldron was enough. Satisfied, Witchy placed the top back on the on the giant pot and went off to read a spellbook, a hungry gurgle emanating from her exposed tummy.

This wasn't the first time Isley was shoved into a cauldron of boiling stew and it probably wouldn't be the last. She didn't really mind it though. After all, it was just another way to prepare her for the journey to come. In fact, there were several times in her career that she threw herself into the pot! After awhile, it felt like she was inside like she was in a nice warm belly. A metal belly sure, but a belly none the less.

About half an hour later, Isley was sitting patiently in a large soup bowl, soaking in a warm pool of stew. Despite the fact her skin was a bright, burning red, there was still a smile on her face. In front of her was Witchy, resting her head upon her palm and grinning with hunger in her eyes.

“Oh, this is gonna be good.” Witchy cooed, then took hold of the bowl. With near supernatural strength, the green glutton hoisted the bowl high and put the edge to her glossy black lips. She started with a sip, but gradually her mouth widened to a ludicrous degree as Isley slid down the slippery bowl towards the cavernous maw. Steadily, she entered the witch's mouth and sunk into the back of her throat with the rest of the stew. As soon as the bowl was empty, Witchy's lips locked shut, sealing Isley in a humid world of darkness. With cheeks bulging to burst, she lifted her head and swallowed, sending the bulge down her throat and into her eager stomach. She breathed a satisfied sigh, then wiped the drool from her lips.

“A little too salty for my tastes, but tasty none the less.”

Witchy filled the soup bowl with the rest of the stew and chugged it down in one go, filling her swollen stomach. After the last drop slipped down her throat, she let out a thunderous belch that shook the walls of her little wooden cabin. She looked down with a devilish smirk at the wide girth bulging from her midriff and massaged it gently as it gurgled and groaned.

This was quite a first for the Delivery Girl. Normally when she was sitting in the gut of a customer, Isley would relax and let the stomach have its way. However! She was literally swimming in a pool of stew and like a ship caught in the teeth of a hurricane, she was thrown about the Witch's dark stomach, swishing and sloshing all around. She tried to brace herself against something, but whenever she had a grip, the crashing waves of soup wrenched her free and carried her somewhere else. Soon, the towering witch sat down and Isley world finally settled down. She broke the stew's surface, gasping for air, then took a moment to gather her bearings. Now, this was far from the first time Isley was eaten, but this was the first time she was devoured by someone who could eat so much! For the love of the Twelve, she was standing up to her neck in stew in the belly of a witch! She simply couldn't believe it! She wanted to praise Witchy for such a feat, but Witchy was one of those customers who wanted to hear more begging than praise, so she kept her mouth shut and tried to make herself comfy. In time, the eager stomach went into overdrive.

Sitting by the warm glow of the fireplace, Witchy relaxed in her chair with a book resting on her belly, listening to it churn the delivery girl into fuel for her body.