The Cottage in the Woods

Gathering up some modest gifts and throwing on a cape, she set forth into the deepest, darkest part of the Woods. She felt a thrill as the wolves howled, and once she saw baleful eyes staring at her from deep in the foliage, but she feared not, for she was on a mission of love and kindness. Suddenly, as if by magic, the dense trees and grasses gave way to a small, clearing, and Renee beheld a lovely little brown and white cottage, very tidily kept, with a garden full of healthy vegetables and a strong, upright cobblestone chimney. Delighted, she skipped straight to the front door and knocked briskly; within moments, the door opened and a tiny old woman peered out.

"Hello, Mum!" said the young lady. "I am Renee, from the village; we heard tell of new neighbors, and I bring greetings!" She held out her basket of gifts. "Here are fruits and breads to express our friendship."

The woman smiled, broadly. "Why, my dear, how wonderful! And my sister and I had just been discussing what we would be having for supper. Come, please enter our modest home." And with that, she swung the door open wide. Renee saw a neatly kept single room with a large table and many chairs, and a broad fireplace with a huge cauldron inside.

A voice called from another room. "Who is it, Hilda?"

"Come see!" said Hilda. "A young woman, named Renee, has visited us. Lovely, with hair as red as fire." She smiled up at Renee. "My sister, Gert; we live here, alone...but we have other friends in the Woods who visit us." She was dressed all in black, in a shawl and a gown that reached to the floor. Nary seven stone she was, and not even five feet tall; her wrinkles deep as a stream, but features merry and eager.

Out came sister Gert, dressed and looking much the same; a little stouter, but also a little shorter. She, too, smiled broadly. "Our first guest!" she said. "We had many in our last home. We will have you for dinner."

"Oh, but--" said Renee, not wishing to be a burden.

"We insist," said Hilda. "You are so kind to bring these gifts, and we too enjoy sharing. Our forest friends will join us. But, we will need your help."

That was different; Renee loved to help. "Of course, Mum." she said, as Gert took the basket and set it on the table. "What shall I do?"

"Well, first--" said Hilda, her eyes falling on the cauldron. "Dear, dear. That big, black pot is our dearest possession, but it's fallen into such disuse, and really must be prepared for this evening's meal. It needs to be thoroughly greased from the inside; quite a chore, I'm afraid."

"No trouble at all!" exclaimed Renee cheerily. "Just bring me the pot of fat, and--"

"But, my dear, you'll soil your lovely clothes!" interrupted Gert, who was laying plates and knives out at the table. "And with our friends coming tonight, you certainly don't want to look a fright."

The three fell silent for a moment, thinking; then, Hilda brightened. "I have it!" said the little old lady. "Renee, you will remove your clothes and while you work, Gert will clean them; then we will help you bathe, and you will be truly prepared for our little party."

Renee gasped. "Oh, Mums," she exclaimed, "To put you to all that trouble--"

"Tut, tut," said Hilda. "Without your presence, there would be nothing to celebrate. Now, do be a dear, and let's put Gert to work."

Renee nodded and smiled, and timidly began to remove her garments. She wore high, laced boots, which she pulled off to reveal glorious slim legs and ankles. Her coarse, peasant blouse concealed firm, freckled breasts, topped with large, handsome, pink aureolae; the heavy skirt was pulled down past a soft belly and welcoming hips, and thighs thick with the tone of youth. Bare as her birth day, Renee ducked under the mantel of the fireplace and gingerly stepped over the top of the rough, blackened pot, which was more than half her own height; she winced as her delicate feet met the jagged bottom. As Gert scooped up her clothing, the ever-smiling Hilda handed her a generous pot full of fat and a heavy brush; as Renee crouched down and began to vigously apply a layer of grease to the pot, Hilda watched her for a moment, admiring the slope of her back and the curve of her thigh, and the plumpness of her bottom; then, the old woman whistled, and a great, black bird flew in through the open window.

"This is Dorias, the raven who sees all in the Woods," Hilda told Renee, who was already huffing and puffing with the chore of coating the pot. "He will summon all of our friends; tell them," she instructed the bird, "we have a special guest for this evening's fare, and the meal will be truly memorable." With a croak, the bird flew off.

"Amazing!" exclaimed Renee. "You speak to the creatures of the forest?"

"Many, yes," said the woman. "Some, like the wolves, do not comprehend, but all are our friends. You are doing a truly fine job with our pot."

Renee was working harder and harder, and the inside of the pot was taking on a dull sheen; but the red-haired maiden was becoming tired and glowed with her exertion. Also, she was becoming coated with the stuff herself, so that her own fair skin shone with grease.

"Now, we've another chore for you," announced Gert, who had re-emerged from the side room lugging a large burlap sack. "We will add to our meal fresh vegetables from our garden; would you be so kind as to pare and cut them, and place them in the pot?"

Renee nodded and began to stand, but Hilda stopped her. "My dear, you bear as much grease as does the cauldron," she laughed. "First, the vegetables; then, we will clean you for this evening."

Renee smiled weakly, sat back down--her fat-coated hindquarters making a plopping sound--and accepted her newest chore. Sitting with her smooth, slender legs crossed, she diligently cut the rind off each carrot, potato and turnip, sliced it up and dropped it in the pot; soon, there were so many vegetables that her legs were covered, and she was up to her hips in the healthy produce.

Gert and Hilda had been busy; they had brought armloads of firewood from the stack behind the cottage and placed them beneath the pot, and now they were hauling in buckets of water.

"What wonderful work you've done, dearie!" said Hilda. "We've decided to bathe you right here so that you'll not get fat all over the cottage; we've worked so hard to tidy it up for our guests." And with that, the two kindly old sisters began dumping buckets of water into the pot. "Clean up, dear."

And Renee did, wiping fat off her glistening body with the water. The buckets kept coming; the vegetables floated as the level rose to her waist, her ribs, her breasts. Hilda fumbled in a cabinet, emerged with a large, round box with holes in the top.

"For your bath," she said. "Fragrant herbs and spices; they will freshen your skin. You must be tired; rest in the waters, and let the spices work their magic."

Renee was exhausted, to be sure, and lay back in the pot, her head and comely torso all that was above the layer of vegetables that coated the top of the water. "Very well," she said, "But I'll soon finish my rest and resume helping you ladies prepare for your guests."

"Oh, but Miss Renee," laughed Hilda, pouring in the spices, "you cannot leave the pot without your clothes, and Gert is still freshening them for you. Soon, all will be as it needs to be, and you will have served us very well." And with that, she bent over and struck a match, and touched the flame to the kindling.

"You start a fire?" said Renee, half asleep with all she had done and in the comfort of the waters.

"The warmer it is," responded the old woman, "the more you will enjoy it. Here; you must relax," and as she held up Renee's limp arms, Gert took a length of hemp and thoroughly bound the girl's wrists...then reached into the water and did the same with her slim ankles.

So tired from her labors, Renee hardly noticed the binding; she was dreaming of a marvelous feast and a group of new friends with which to share it. She drifted into a contented sleep, her pretty eyes gently closed and little mouth forming an "O"; her breasts heaved with each deep breath, forming ripples that splayed from her bright pink nipples to where her round, dimpled knees poked just out of the water.

As as she dozed and the water warmed, the sisters' guests arrived, and you would have known them, for they are unlike any you would find in the town. There was Harald the Troll, unkempt with his dirt-streaked clothes, his hands dragging on the ground; and there was the Bashful Giant, who peered into the cottage but did not dare to squeeze in; and there were sharp-toothed goblins and wickedly smiling satyrs. These were the Magickal Folk of the Woods, and when they heard their friends Hilda and Gert had supper cooking they hurried, for they knew they would be served delicious meat that night.

All commented on Renee, who snored peacefully in the pot. "She is young, and fresh," said Harald. His nostrils flared. "Such a wonderful aroma!" he cried. "We will dine well." The fire was now fully ablaze, and steam began to rise from the cauldron; a satyr trotted up on his hooves, commented, "Look, her flesh turns red as the evening sun" and, reaching into the pot, ran a hairy finger along Renee's bare shoulder and tasted her. He said, "Yes, this will be a marvelous feast."

All of this commotion woke poor Renee, whose eyes opened to find these strange creatures gathered around the cauldron, gazing at her and licking their lips and rubbing their bellies in a manner most unsettling. She attempted to greet them, but realized she could not rise nor wave, with her hands and feet tied. Her bosom, she realized, was half-covered with the herbs Hilda had poured into the pot, as well as with bits of vegetables. And she was becoming quite hot from the fire underneath her bath. Looking into the smiling faces of Gert and Hilda, "Dear Mums," the naked girl whispered, for she truly did not wish to be a bother, "my bath has become quite warm, and I would like to have my clothes again, that I may join you and your guests at tonight's party."

"Ah, but my dear," cooed Hilda, "you most certainly will join us," and with that she selected the ripest, plumpest apple from the basket Renee had brought them, and inserted it firmly into the young lady's mouth. As the now-silenced Renee looked up at them, questioning, the Bashful Giant reached into the cottage, lifted the heavy lid to the cauldron, and placed it firmly over Renee, as the guests squealed with excitement and pleasure.

And as you may very well know, that was the end of Renee, but not the end of the party. For she would be served to the Woods' folk on a big platter, the apple still in her mouth; and they would delight in eating her tender meat, so nicely flavored from the herbs and vegetables, from her dainty little feet to her lean legs and soft belly, and her heavy thighs and plump, soft buttocks and breasts; they would eat every last bit of Renee except for the bones, and drink as well the vegetable broth in which she had bathed, dipping in crusts of the bread she had brought that they might savor her juices even more. And Gert and Hilda collected each one of Renee's bones and placed them in a sack for the wolves; for even though the wolves could not understand their words, they appreciated a fine meal as well as any of their other friends. It was truly a feast to remember, and Renee had played a very important part.