Recipe Witch: Cherri Pie

 

Annette leaned over and looked through the field glasses. Far in the distance the enemy castle lay dormant. The gargoyles of Castle Ral-ja floated overhead holding spears, standing stiffly while watching guard. In her thin, minted armor her hand shook, holding her sword. "I'm not sure we can the fortress commander. They say a lot of soldiers have gone missing trying to find their way in there." The sun was beginning to fall below the horizon, and the soldiers slowly stood up to move back into position far behind the trenches. They were at a safe distance from the enemy territory. But safe, didn't create bread or grow crops. "They might attack in the darkness or come back in the morning," General Ilaria murmured. She looked like an old woman,b but her acumen and and reputation proceeded her. "They'll definitely try to come back in the morning and take our supplies, they're trying to take everything." She raised her sword and pointed it ahead. "We need to make our way to that castle.  But how can we get up there? The terrain is too steep to walk., but ." Annette saluted. She could be easily identified by the unique scarlet tattoos on her face and throat, which, in her case, were shaped like an "O". Her eyes are a dark blue color with swollen bags. "General if I may.. I haven't seen any troops garrisoned in the enemy castle."

As the sun disappeared and the night began to consume them, a deep growling erupted behind them. The sounds of the animals were beginning to increase as they moved closer.

Husbandry overseer Devina grabbed a handful of oats from her saddle. It was the last food in their sack, meant for their mounts, and she needed to eat it to keep her strength up.

"That doesn't mean anything. It's frigid tonight. They're probably hunkered down deep inside." Llaria didn't trust the silence, but Annette was her most worthy confident. The lowest of her village, the farthest from a champion. It was said that her mother died in battle in a nameless skirmish, and during her last of days she cried out for a Saint.

The Saints, could move mountains and defeat entire armies by themselves. So Annette's mother spent her days tending to the wounded, cleaning the battlefields of blood, praying and waiting for the Saints to come save them.

Devina took her hands off the oats and it rolled down her arm, the kernels landing in the dirt of the road. She put her hands in her lap and stared into the setting sun. The two soldiers behind her glanced at the overseer and Annette smiled weakly. "Don't worry, I'm not going to eat it."

"Are you sure? We wouldn't want our good luck charm to go hungry." The general asked.

The army was quiet and still, the dark of night had descended and the stars twinkled high above. A gentle wind blew across the mountainside, ruffling the sleeves of her armor. The last of the soldiers were setting up camp and Annette was heading back to the main road with the rest of the horses. She looked back at the castle walls, it's gargoyles floating against the backdrop of the moon. She got off her horse and turned to the other rider, telling them to turn around, and that they were going to sneak into the enemy's stronghold. She was starving, but if they didn't take this castle, the rest of her kingdom would be too.

Her lips parted, and her breath frosted as she whispered a short prayer.

"I hope this doesn't make me see ghosts." Annette muttered.

She started to climb up the ditch to the enemy's encampment. Her form was flickering in the darkness as she moved, making her way up the fosse. She reached the top, and was relieved to see that the way was clear, but the castle seemed to have no windows. And strangely enough, no guards.

Annette's eyes scanned the top of a bolted entrance, looking for a way in.  "Where is everybody?" She whispered. There were a few gargoyle guards on the rooftop, but they seemed rather bored, perhaps watching the stars. She saw a tiny break in the side of the wall, the ground around it collapsed. Braving what may come, she started to tunnel through it and crawl through the dirt, onto the inside.

The tunnel seemed to go on and on, she saw the fatest light at the very end. She knew she had to do this, everyone was counting on her. The castle shielded the only seedling to a valuable tree in the large courtyard. These trees were called Gather Groves or 'Gatherers.' A single Gatherer can grow anywhere from 400-600 meters tall, and its roots are said to extend around 3 kilometers from beneath the surface. What was exceptional about them besides the tiny red fruits they provided, was their roots and presence provided the cultivation of proper soil and inevitably, vegetation. In some ancient societies long past Annette had heard stories about ancient civilizations being formed along estuaries and riverbeds, before much of the world's water dried up. In her age growing up, she'd been taught that these trees took upon the importance of ancient rivers. Without them, life could not thrive. With them, enough surplus and crop yield could feed whole kingdoms and provide subsistence. The difference between starvation and thriving in these lands she knew meant acquiring Gatherers, and the territory they grew on. Annette could finally see the end, she'd lost track of how long she'd been crawling on her knees, but light finally revealed itself.

The squire crawled out of the deep and dusty hole, arriving into a room that looked like the inside of a cathedral. A Knight, she corrected herself, as if trying to fight some invisible meta making waves at the dim edge of her consciousness. She looked around, seeing no enemy guards, but pews, glass stained walls, stoney halls and lit candles. The place seemed like a house of worship for the rich, she'd known such places for priests to put huge bowls out full of holy fruit. Her grandmother would take her to one often, and with her grandmother being dead, it was now her world. She stepped inbetween the pews and slowly made her way out into the halls, finding her feet dropped by some red slush. Annette's body went tumbling. Her face, she could feel was sticky with some dark red painty-sludge, sticking to the floor. She'd dropped her sword. When she saw it in a puddle she attempted to pull it out, only to find it sink and dissolve. The colorful slime over her body seemed to stick everywhere, spreading across her body in a smooth layer.  She could feel the coldness of her body begin to spread through the thin layer of slime, but she refused to look down, and kept marching out into the exit.

She saw a split hallway that lead to a granary, visible from outside, and a stairway the other direction. She went up the stairway, sloshing her boots against more red sleek juice with every step. She rose fast, hoping the slime would dissipate faster. Her left hand slipped off the slick and sticky puddle and slid on the stairway rail abit. Annette realized just how high up she was, in a tall building of all things. She was still able to make it to the top, and entered a large throne room, connected to a bedroom, servant's quarters, a study, a kitchen and dining hall.

At first she could feel the pain in her knees but with the adrenaline from the tunnel they were numb, a pain she could forget. Annette was shocked to see she was only 5'2", shorter than her usual. Normally she'd think being that small was a good thing, but now she was in the belly of the beast.

She turned around to go back down the stairway when she heard a noise behind her. She looked and saw it. With its face a 5 meters away from her own, she froze, her heart skipping a beat. A gargoyle pointed its spear at her. She took out her sword, truthfully the knight didn't know the origin of Gargoyles, no one did. The gargoyle swung its spear at Annette, and it had to be the one the knight had seen earlier. It swung three times in a row, Annette rolled out of the way and rolled underneath one of the stools around the room. She landed in a puddle of more scarlet juice. The stone of the pillar she hid underneath was soaked red. Looking at her hands, dripping with slime, but at least not broken. She picked up the pommel of the sword and swung it with both hands at the beast, striking it 3 times to return the Gargoyle's attack. The sword shattered the fiend across the ground, shards of stone spilling everywhere. A tiny fragment pierced her leg, no larger than a pin.

Annette ran to the kitchen to get some wine and a cloth to wash the wounds.

It didn't escape her notice that she needed a stool for some cabinets, as she'd lost her height to around 4 feet, maybe shorter... Upon seeing her reflection in some glass, she looked like a teenager again. How young did she become, 15, 14? Whatever curse she'd stumbled upon, she'd lost years of her mature body right before her eyes. They'd never let her serve in the Feeder's Legion as she was now.

She saw an empty bowl, a golden shade with scarlet stains across it. No doubt one meant to hold the rare lifegiving growth of the Gatherers.

"The fruit, it really is the best thing to happen to the poor, ever!" Jontue, her uncle would often repeat to Annette. "It really does something for their mind and soul."

"My mom would have said that, Jontue would say this," Annette answered wistfully. "I miss her so much."

It had been a long time since the past but the memory she had of it brought her back to the present. Annette remembered when there was a boy she liked in her village. He was young, like Annette was now. He was kind, and she had seen that kindness in him too. She had felt that warmth deep in her chest when he had looked at her.

He died when the drought hit while she was in training, sharpening her blade in the barracks. More than half her village was gone too. If she hadn't taken the plunge and joined the Feeder's Legion, she's sure she would have succumbed. Annette was a strong girl, she got along well with almost everyone, being the only girl. She had a strong mind, and could work in harsh conditions. That was why she was able to make it into the Feeder's Legionary. But she didn't know what to do now.

Annette dragged herself around the large, royally sized dining chamber, slumping around the table and into the kitchen. She looked through the dusty shelves, the monotone of the room seeming to fade her into the colourless shade and just barely allowing her to find a wine bottle. When she popped it open, the red that corked out was bright, brighter than anything she’d ever seen. It took her back and she accidentally spilt it onto a large, leather-bound tome.

“Huh?” The pangs of her leg was catching up to her, stiffness and a numb, paralyzing sting forcing her to limp slightly.There wasn’t a drop left. But oddly the fluid didn’t stain. The Tome, was as bright as the reddest fruit she’d ever seen. Curiosity called to her, engaging her mind like a plague until she gave in and flipped its pages.

In the front, there was only one page, as if everything were folded out. It was a simple, elegant art. There was a single sentence.

“You’ll die soon dear sweet Annette, your days are numbered.”

“W-Wh…”Her heart sank. This didn’t make any sense, she just found this book. How could her name be written in it? She flipped a page.

“Unless you cook. Granite you will be your new look.”

She felt the pain of her kneecaps, and looked down. The skin, fading to a blunt grey. When she felt the surface, it was as hard as stone, spreading from where the shard had impaled her.

 

“Cook what?!” She needed answers. The next page was written in red ink.

Potato-flour piecrust.

Sugar.

Milk

Meringue.

Vanilla.

A sprinkle of sugar.

A dash of cinnamon.

A single cherry. Soon to be many.

Roll dough, add mix and cook as usual.

 

 

She was uncertain if this was a joke. She flipped through a few more pages until she saw this:

Recipe for a beautiful stone Knight-statue

Curious girl.

Abandoned castle.Gargoyle attack.

Disbelief and stubbornness.

White polish paint.

Moss.

 

Now she was certain.

She turned the page backwards to the Pie recipe.

“I don’t even know what I’m reading! Where did this come from?” Annette shook her head. Could she really cook a pie in the middle of war? No, that was a ridiculously stupid idea. But the more she thought on it, the stranger it seemed that there were no enemy soldiers in the castle. She examined her leg, the stone infection growing even larger. Would she regret her skeptism when she could no longer move? Fear ran out and, at the rate it was spreading, she decided to get moving.

Annette hurried gathering the ingredients around the room. As if in on the cruel joke, the kitchen had the exact ingredients she needed, right down to iron pie tins and a huge oven. The girl nervously worked to mix the ingredients, the potato-flour tailor made to hold the mix in thick starchy dough and hold its dry part with the gooey consistency of the piemix. The golden bowl that she saw when she came in earlier, now had a single cherry. She carefully reached in, plucked it and placed it at the top of her bowl, then balanced it on a large wooden paddle carefully into the oven, bellowing it on.

Then she waited. The heat, meeting where her flesh remained. Stark coldness spread everywhere else. She looked down and sat even her toes and feet were hard and smooth, only her upper calves were moveable. Time was not a luxury she possessed.

She felt herself growing dizzy. She looked to her hands. They were crumbling. She stared at the page, and her hands blurred, changing into a smooth, slick grey.

"I’m going to die. My body is decaying into granite. I’ll be stone. I’ll have no feelings, no warmth, no way to get out of a situation. That’s probably the cruelest thing.” She mumbled. 

Her body was slowly falling apart. If she was to die, she wanted it to be on her terms. She took the kitchen knife and stabbed it into her chest, but the knife broke upon hitting stone, and she saw from the neck down her body was starting to harden. Her upper shoulders were already feeling stiff.

“Oh no.” Annette screamed as the book opened with a gush of wind, then closed like a storm, her body was growing cold. The book was the most perfect, most terrifying thing she’d ever seen. There was a note on the spine of the book, hand-scrawled in faded blue ink. The wind from the book blew it towards her.

“You were a lovely girl Annette. Thanks for the pie.”

She shook her head. "No! I was a horrible girl, always acting cold, always so unfriendly, no one would be friends with me because of that." Annette thought back to her past, always acting cold and harsh. She’d only started to warm up to people, when she met general Llaria. “I wasn’t a nice person!” She thought, crying.

All her tears were frozen solid, so they broke into a hundred tiny shards, which were now falling down on top of her head. Annette turned around, looking at the kitchen. There was a single pie in the oven. Her hand trembled as she reached in and lifted it out. It was hot to the touch. The pie seemed perfect, not a single imperfection to be found. Would it really stop everything? Annette placed it in her mouth and began to chew. A moment later, her jaw cracked as her mouth felt like granite. She tried to catch her lips in front of her teeth, but it was freezing and her breath was freezing. She looked around her, feeling more cold. It was as if the entire castle was an icy mountain.  All the pie was melted onto her face, turning her into a perfect granite statue. A secret recipe, the cherry that was suddenly there maybe. Either way she'd die, as her entire body from head to toe was becoming smooth stone and soon her vision grew dark. Annette touched herself one last time, but the stone felt like hot glass.

When Annette woke, she couldn’t move. Her entire body was rock solid. She could hear voices of someone speaking, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying. Her face was frozen into a scrunched up expression. She wondered what she looked like, and she turned around to inspect herself. She was still stone. But the Annette statue started to turn bright red, as if heated and molded, melting inside. The rock cracked. Like a hard shell it split everywhere, growing as bright red as the Cherry she used. She finally felt red hot, and burst.

She gasped, free again. The girl felt her flesh and body, unable to believe she was alive. "Magical mumbo jumbo actually worked?"

She wasn't wearing a corset before she turned to stone, Annette was surprised she could even breathe wearing that thing. She was also slightly paler. Maybe she wasn't so lucky? But she could move atleast, so every bit of luck she cherished as a blessing.

She sat up and looked at the kitchen. A single piece of pie was on the counter. She picked it up and took a bite. "Oh my! This pie is amazing!" She tasted it. It was very nice and moist, she ate half and placed the rest back on the counter. She sighed in delight. The book flipped a page. It was the original pie recipe again. The wind drafted the window open, prompting her to look out, seeing the kitchen was in a tall tower right above the camp. When she looked down, she covered her mouth.

The entire battalion from what she could see, was in great distress. The gargoyles had swept the area, and a very large number of soldiers had their bodies blighted by the same affliction she had. Annette paced back and forth for a bit. She ran her hands through her longer, silkier hair and took in the panic of the moment, trying to think of what she could do. In her current state she couldn't fight, but she looked towards the Recipe book and the solution seemed intuitive. Her pies could cure petrification, so why not bake more? She began to gather ingredients from the kitchen for later. It was done before she knew it, and she stared at the pie for a good twenty minutes, admiring her work. It would be perfect for the needs of the soldiers, she would bake and bake it until she felt better. She wrote a letter with a quill pen and wrote in a scroll, folding it and placing it in a slit cut into the pie.

Annette's eyes locked on her letter as she started to think of how to best handle it. Once it was done she would have to find a way to take it, perhaps a carriage. She couldn't very well carry it around like a soldier though, and she couldn't just throw it down, it needed to be eaten, so she would need a plan to transport it in a covert manner. That's when it occured to her, she hurried back down to the church where the highly decorated curtains hung over the back stand. Taking them off, she carried and dragged them all the way back up, ignoring the sloshing juices as they dragged. Once she arrived in the kitchen tower, she gently wrapped the pie into a cloth and anchored part of the carpet with a brick, tying it to the cloth on the other end. With gentle care she started to lower it down, glad the carpet could go all the way down. Other soldiers saw her and pointed, she waved back. By the time she lowered the pie and note by cloth onto the ground, the Gargoyles had begun to take notice, swarming around the window. She had to pull the curtain black up and slam it shut. On the ground, General Ilaria took a suspicious look at the pie. Then she saw the note, it had a familiar smell. "This is the work of..." Annette breathed a sigh of relief. The General fed it to one of the petrified soldiers, smearing it into their mouth, and slowly watched as they cracked out restored.  Annette immediately got baking on another pie, and the next one, and about 40 more by the end of the night, where only a single slice was even needed. By daytime the Gargoyles had all turned to stone and she found herself able to simply waltz out and deliver them to the army, who happily relished in her sweet treat.

She returned to the kitchen tower, wondering where all the castle's inhabitants were. The Leathery Tome had new recipes and ingredients, all pies. And as if by magic, the room was restocked with what she needed to bake them. They'd captured the Gatherer tree. Annette and her people were no longer in danger of starvation. She didn't expect a feast every day though, the castle soon held a full schedule of working soldiers and their needs were constant. And with no one else willing to bake pies and tarts, or even the minor pastry, Annette's job became much more celebrated. When the second month started, she asked the castle people for a carriage, and they made her a special one. It would only sit one. She used it to transport her pies to her hometown, and rode into town to deliver them. When she returned, she got busy with the pies. So much so, that it took her 3 days to even notice that the general wasn't visiting her any more. She wanted to bake another batch for her villagers, and spent almost a week on various Pie recipes the book had to offer her, not noticing her height returning or the red juice stains on her body becoming a more natural feature over time. As she made her way back home, she saw someone with familiar clothes. It was the General. But she was looking... Annette almost fell over. They were much younger, for one thing. Slimmer too, less muscle tone all around. Their face looked, oddly voluptuous. "General?" She asked, unsure if she was looking at the same person. They'd transformed and now looked like  a slender, young, pale-skinned woman of about 18, her hair was pure red and seemed almost slick and wet. Her voice was no longer that deep, and her eyes were different. "Yes my liege? It's so splendid for you to finally show up!" Annette's heart froze, she was so confused. "Why...why, I...no I'm not..." Her face reddening further.  "Y...you've changed..."  She stammered out, trying to find something to say, unable to say it. "We're not, how could you say that...?" She finally blurted out, "We're exactly the same...we always were." Annette felt like there was a big bubble of blood between her heart and her brain, and she couldn't quite figure out what she wanted to say next.  So she ran away, ran back to her tower. Out of compulsion, the only thing that brought her comfort was more baking. The golden bowl that first only housed a single cherry, was now overfilled with them and always spilling out. And she would be there every night, sitting at her pie table, waiting for a knock. Sometimes she'd get a knock on the door from her villagers, which always made her smile. Sometimes she'd notice them pair, hair juicy and red, wearing red-velvelt and rubbery looking dresses and skirts, often matching one another. That disturbed her incredibly.

She continued to bake the pies for as long as she could. Occasionally a gargoyle would steal one, and occasionally it would come back not as a stoned beast but a shiny, latex-y red imp who was more flirty with her. The townspeople started to come to her for requests and advice, as if she held some sagely position or reputation for resolving disputes. It was like in real time she observed them lose independence, becoming more willing to acquiesce their livihoods to her and accept whatever her final word was. She could see that the more they ate her pies, the more they seemed to shift, becoming more sweet and doll-like, with bigger breasts and less thoughts than ever before. But all and all, some voice within her fought every attempt to stop baking, and she convinced herself it was for the good of the kingdom. Everyone loved her pies and she provided such wonderful ones, why would she want her people to starve?

Her people?

One night, she got a knock from Devina, the Husbandry overseer. Annette was busy baking, per usual and found herself listening to a song she made in her head, sounding of something ritzy and harmonious. Baking pies nowadays was all she ever thought about, it seemed to consume her during long hours of the day. "Come in!"

Devina stepped forward. "Hello Annette. I should probably mention, you have a series of requests!" Although not surprised at this point, the Ex-knight shot a glance at the girl's appearance now. Flushed pale skin, long curls of red hair that seemed to be wet and plastic-y, her body in a sheer see-through dress with white paste along her breasts and shoulders, looking like the swirls of a cinnamon roll. Her wardrobe looked like it was made for by catoring, not a seamstress. The woman marched on two ruby-red high heelst that she'd never seen the once humble girl wear and handed Annette a scroll. She looked over it, seeing different disputes.

"Dispute over nutmeg display.. request to delegate land inheritance, river to the east is drying up... Really? You're really going to make me deal with any of this? I'm not qualified to make all these decisions or solve issues like these."

The velvety woman merely giggled. "But you are, like, my liege! So sweet and precious." Annette's face flushed. She did not want anyone calling her sweet and precious, so in her mind she thought of a different name for herself: bitch. Yes, she was a huge bitch. Just like back before her training, as a squire, she'd been mean to everyone, she reminded herself. "Tell them to go eat.." Her mind paused for an appropriate word, and all that came out was. "Pie."

"As you wish!" Devina soluted. The bouncy, airry way she talked and presented herself was so unlike the simplistic animal-feeder she knew way back then. Her entire outlook had changed, and why she was acting so forward with Annette she wasn't sure. But what felt stranger still was she couldn't dwell on why it was that wrong or unwelcome. "My liege, may I?" Her plastic rustled as she moved her body towards the pie baker's.

"May you what?"

The woman patted Annette's cheek, making her giggle and blush. The woman's skirt rose up, revealing red and white rubber heart underwear as she bent to kiss Annette's cheek. Annette shook her head, confused, but some part of her fought the urge to fight. "I don't know, may you? They say for every pleasure given, to each their own.." and she pursed her pure red lips, smacking out and starting to smoosh them against Devina's. Before she knew it their tongues were sloshing together. Why was she kissing a woman she'd barely met? Wait, so she had met her, right? Debby, Diva, Divine, what was her name? She didn't remember meeting the woman, but... oh, but no, she was kissing her! Suddenly a part of her, like some voice seemed to wash over on her squeamish nature. "Who cares if you've never met them or who they are? They're all alike, they're yours for the taking. "

The latex top felt so smooth against her breasts, this lady's mouth was soft and warm. She felt light, and the kiss was long and gentle. Her latex coated hands gently rubbed against Annette's back, treating her like the master of the universe. It took her a few minutes into their foreplay to notice her height had returned, and the curves and breasts that had been repressed prior were now even more pronounced than before she regressed.

"I'm no longer a girl!" she cried out. "I'm...a grown-up! Again?"

"You look like a new woman! Shall I get you fresh set of heels?""

Annette blinked, staring at her for a moment. "I'm busy! You'll do what I say when I say it. Now pleasure me." She covered her mouth. Why had she given such a bossy command? She did it again. "Is that understood? No pies will be served until I am satisfied with your performance." It felt easier this time, right. Her voice, now a smooth baritone, seemed to coax with the new authority she polished. The woman's hands slowly moved from Annette's back to the front of her body. They pressed against her large breasts, her nipples hardening, her pussy wet. She closed her eyes and let herself sink into carnal heaven.

Fifty minutes later, the two had explored every inch of one another's bodies, Devina acting utterly subservient to Annette's desires. She lay down on her bed, her cheeks hot from the kisses and tongue lapping. Yes, this had been a great experience, she thought. A perfect performance. She'd gotten what she wanted. Her new command came easy, as if she'd been practicing all her life. Too bad that woman's tongue was so sloppy and her movements poorly performed. Still no pie could be perfect.

Maybe she'd give it a try tho.

"Would you like your cherry served, Mistress?" Debbie or whatever her name was asked. Her face had changed so substantially that she no longer looked human- face so white and chalky that it looked like cake batter and her hair a long mane of some fruity goop, which had spread along her wrists and ankles, her waist thinner pinched and more shapely than most corsets despite not wearing one. "I can give you the Crème Lécher Crepe with a side of pudding de poitrine.." She tugged on Annette's breasts.

"Enough with the sex talk. Just take your damn pie and leave."

"Of course!" The lady giggled. She grabbed one from the shelf and soon strolled off.

Annette's face grew hot. She was just acting, right? She could pretend to be a little mean sometimes. She may have gone overboard in the heat of the moment, but she was just Annette. She was a little scared and shy, but she was still Annette, she said to herself. And Annette was a woman who baked pies and had whatever everyone liked. Would that statement hold weeks ago, would it hold tomorrow? She didn't know, and in the uncertainty sought to bake. She'd just gotten to the oven and was pouring some flour onto a pie tin. She closed her eyes, letting the smell of her fruit and cinnamon fill her nostrils.

She slid back into the kitchen's chair and watched as her pie cooled. Her hand was still wrapped around an oven mitt, when she took it off her heart raced. Her mind was racing, trying to get ahold of her identity and what was guiding her nowadays.

She had done something right today.

She had taken control.

She could even be a little scary.

She also held the power to bake anything her customers wanted.

And they would do anything she wanted in turn.

A fantastic arrangement, she thought with a twisted curl of her lips.

She started to laugh hysterically, her limbs growing taller as she did so.

"Come in," she said over the laughter. The pie lady didn't stop laughing. She didn't stop talking. Debby or Dory opened the door and walked by the doorstep, but she was slightly different. No, this was a different woman. She thought? They looked so much like the previous one, the same clear latex dress and whipped cream cuffs and body, a different hairstyle of red juicey hair. She'd been formed the same way, even if she wasn't the same as the previous one. The pie lady was setting so many plates and cups before she grew tired of the new girl's meek, passive nature.

"I said come in." She sounded a little rude, but she wasn't going to apologize to a slut that she'd ordered and wait on her. The girl walked inside.

"Ugh, finally. Here take these plates, wash up. Clean the kitchen if you can." Why was she giving this girl orders? Then again, why shouldn't she? It just felt right. Something about it personified new feelings and urges within her, she revoked any attempt to question it.

While the girl cleaned up, she headed into the castle bathtub and started up the spout, hot water pouring into the porcelain tub. This must've only been used by royalty before, she thought. The baking broad let the soap water fill until she dipped her toes in, swirls of red starting to tint inside as she did. By the time she lowered her hips and backside down, the water had turned comfortably crimson. She closed her eyes and let herself bathe away in the neon, the thickness of it rising and seeming to coat every inch of her body to serenade her with tingly indulgences.

She ran her fingertips, nails growing out, and sheared her slit's hair to a pixie and then dipped her other hand into the water, playing with her pink nipples as her breasts grew to full sized melons. She then sat up, turned towards the sink, the water slowly running down her ample backside. She bent over, a small tinkle sounding as the water cascaded from her buttocks. She bent further to catch a taste of her pussy juices. While sipping them, enjoying the sweet delicious taste, she raised her hand up to drip some on herself. They fell to the floor in small drops as her face became covered with sugary white liquid.

She could feel it under her soft silken skin and on it, as she dipped her knees next and watched them become long, muscular and slender. By the time she reached her face, her eyebrows began to curl into shades of red, irises following suit with black sclera. The woman that had been Annette let herself slip beneath the cherry-red, bright sticky bath completely, merging with the layer sticking onto her as she descended and embraced it. When she slowly rose, drooping strands stretching away from her hair and face, she was now a sultry cherub. A heartthrob of a luscious woman, she could see it, with her siren's white hair and long eyelashes. The reflection didn't look anything like that foolish girl she was before.
Slightly dazed, hypnotized by her own reflection now even, subtle voices spoke in emotional tones directly to her. "Don't look a gift horse in the mouth." The girl said, or the voice said, she wasn't sure which without even looking up. The blend of aromas and thoughts sticking to her mind seemed to blend in with her psyche and leave no room for difference between who she was and who she was becoming, making all voices indistinguishable. "Don't look at how good I cleaned up, don't look at how good you're looking. Just be happy with what you are now, that's how it should be."

The bathtub had already overflowed, now lying beneath the girl, the red filling every crevice of the castle. Cherry red goop had flooded, but rather than destroy or ruin what it touched and stained, transformed it. The monotony of brick and stone architecture warped and became beautiful shiny red arches of an unknown material, impossibly sleek and smooth, like hardened toffee. Rooms were redone, bedrooms decorated with lavish crimson furniture, the floor carpeted for its owner. Heart-shaped motifs spread everywhere the juice touched and red was never out of style. Before long the entire castle was long gone, replaced with a dramatic scarlet temple with lush and lavish decorum.

The voices in her head faded to silence, and what once would have been a girl with bloodshot eyes and a dazed expression, staring off into space, no longer existed. The girl before her was a vision, and it wouldn't be wrong to call it ethereal. With her hair slicked back in an adorable manner and red-cheeked, she beamed like a fresh-faced Madonna. The girl started to masturbate furiously to her own reflection. And when she finally stopped, she wasn't exhausted, she was soothed by a quiet calm that took over her senses and left her mind even more vulnerable. Looking at herself, it was hard to know whether the girl had changed or she had simply been transformed by the red that had replaced her bathtub with a heart-shaped pool and all of the surrounding territory. Her face appeared to be unblemished and perfect, her lips shiny as if she'd had a fresh coat of cherry-coated lipstick applied.

Annette's hands paused, moving over her own body, feeling her new body. A shiver ran through her, feeling so... powerful. It made her want to purr like a kitten. She laughed to herself, feeling naughty. That name didn't suit her however, she felt like she needed one to match, or rather to choose one that was always meant for her. The girl pulled out of the tub and wrapped silken robes around herself, making her way to the book and opening a page to a new entree, a recipe witch. "Cherri Pie." Was her name. Perfect, she purred. The surrounding villages and even the people themselves seemed to transform into something that could only be described as a dream or illusion. A person with even the most basic sense of morality would surely be unable to keep going as they are, not when it would be easier than anything to simply submit and serve the cuisinier supreme. The red had to be stopped some felt, but what can one do to stop a dream, a wish? And Cherri's wishes were far from a nicety. She yawned, and as if anticipating her needs three woman came into the room. Debby, Dani? Actually those were nonsense words, they didn't need anything to be referred as, merely orders. Cherri instructed them to dress her.

Before she knew what she was doing, Debby or Dory, the three girls, nearly made identical save their hairstyle pulled the red latex dress over her head, along with tight pants and white strappy heeled-shoes.

"Wash the kitchen, and do all the other chores," she spat at the girl. The red latex dress dropped down to her ankles, melting revealing her thick legs with white skin. It continued to droop, melting and merging with her tight pants slowly.

"Do it right now. And take these shoes off."

"Okay"

"Fine. Just do what I tell you." She said with a smirk, her teeth and lips growing sharper as they did so. She couldn't help it. Her face was full of energy. And then the red latex dress that she was wearing fell down her legs, starting to slide towards her feet. The assistant pulled out the heels out just in time, having to struggle with the rubbery stretch of the cherry-red latex shaping around them before they were pulled out. And even once pulled out, the latex maintained their shape.

Her ass and legs were thin, covered in dark red rubber, hairless on the outside but covered in fine hair on the insides of her crotch. They brought a bra and pressed it to her chest, the material turning to a sugary cone as red syrup started to pour out of her expanded breasts, pocketing in place right over her nipples in a crystalline fashion. When they brought out a bucket from the pool to wash her hands, they were soon choked with heavy liquid that spread over and formed latex gloves of the same wet texture coaxing her legs into comfortable submission. They brought her white towels, which upon resting over her shoulders and wrapped around her chest, fluffed into velvety creme, decorating her beautifully.

The assistants now were busy baking her pies. When she reached the Recipe book, she found she didn't even have the urge to flip back, choosing to go forward to a blank page. Taking a red pen, she started to write in new Recipes, recipes that came to her out of nowhere, each seeming more brilliant than the last. The newfound servants, which she wouldn't care in the slightest to know used to be her fellow knights, Feeder Legion, even the general were referred elsewhere as the cerise. A cerise knew who they served and relished in the sweetness of the act. But to her they needed no such identification, being indistinguishable minions to her.

 

It'd been three years since then.

One day a girl from outside the country, Mina stumbled upon a strange red kingdom where everything had run red, from the rivers to even the tips of the trees reshaped with large heart shapes. She rode on her horse until said mount got stuck by the largest palace she'd ever seen, slushy juice overtaking it and sticking it like a bog. It emerged as a scarlet steed. The girl noticed several pure-red imps on the top of the Palace, their shiny crimson skin quite the enigma. When she looked inside, the first and most noteworthy observation was an expansion of the kitchens, red and shiny, the walls of the giant vats, ovens and cartoonish bedrooms now covered in an abstract mire of plastic-seeming surrealism. The foreigner found a woman with the brightest red latex dress, lips, and eyes she'd ever seen. "Come in come in." There was a stack of pies everywhere behind her, and she held a rolling pin as if it were a scepter. The White haired despot, She was quite the sweetheart, but the stranger did become on alert as quickly as possible, Mina raising her hands to her face defensively.

"You seem hungry. Come, this land is plentiful. There's so much to eat in my domain, have you seen the nest of Gatherers around town? We have several. Everyone in the town tends to them, and I tend to everyone" Mina stepped back, seeing something predatory in this woman. "No t-thanks, I'm quite lost and really must be getting back to my travels." The woman on the throne smirked, as if was even giving her a choice.

"Now then, my dear. I'm going to make you a little more comfortable. If I have to force you to do things like this, you are in for a rough time."

Mina stared at her, wondering how the things were even able to talk. "Force me? I didn't do anything!" She protested, not willing to just do anything Mina wanted her to do. But the red latex woman didn't stop, grabbing her by the hair gently and pulling her into a deep kiss. Mina felt her tongue being forced inside her, tasting of some kind of alcohol mixed with.. cherrys? But then Mina's mouth began to taste her own saliva, a metallic tang that didn't feel good at all in Mina's mouth, it felt like it was burning. Her lips were pressed to Mina's lips. She licked and sucked on her tongue. It was so delicious that Mina shuddered, her hips bucking against the rubber woman, her body trembling in intense pleasure. Mina then began to gag, feeling something in her throat that was making her feel limp and tired, not to mention so very very hungry. She sat down beside the floor of the throne, looking at the tall stack behind the ruler.
               Cherri Pie took notice of this, wiping some of the drool from Mina's mouth. She looked up and saw the girl, still in the same clothes. Her body was pale, with large breasts and a little meat on her. She was curvy but not overweight. Her mouth turned into a full grin, her red, razor sharp teeth.

"That's what you want to do. Isn't it?" she taunted. She could tease her like no one else. She thought. She looked at the girl's body, the white skin and the hairless pussy. It was perfect for this. She wanted to play. "You want to eat?" Mina nodded, and then she reached up and grabbed a pie from the stack. "You won't feel a thing." Cherri whispered in a mocking fashion. It was the ultimate humiliation. Mina started to chew. The delicious, red goo and savory sweetness filled her mouth, a slice of paradise melting across her tongue. It was enough for her to dig her face in and eat around, consuming it without dignity or poise. When she finished, Cherri Pie offered her a towel to wipe her face with, seeing the glowing, vibrating tints of red in her eyes. "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Mina shook. "Would you like another?" Cherri offered her one more. "Have as many as you like. No one ever goes hungry in my kingdom." And so Mina did.

The feeding frenzy didn't come free. It felt like someone was pulling and tearing her apart, and the more she ate, the more she wanted to eat. She just wanted to get through it all and be done. She wanted to be Cherri Pie's pet. She'd never be free of it, unless she did what she was told.  Mina looked down, noticing the sticky white liquid running through her hair and down her body. She wanted it off, but more than that she wanted to keep eating. It was an unnatural feeling, but it still felt good. After her seventh pie, she hardly looked like herself anymore, and Cherri Pie knew she was almost finished.

The girl sniffled, she felt as if she was starving. "You can't just leave me here. I need to go back to my friends. I need to get back home. Help me, please..."

"Please what?" Cherri Pie asked, taking some red juicy filling and smearing it over the poor peasant's mouth, making sure her finger got in there until the girl's pupils dilated, and she began to suckle. Mina looked at the shiny woman, she was so beautiful.

"Please... Just one more pie?" she pleaded.  And just like that, she was lost.

"You can have one more.." And she smashed a pie over the rubbery red boots she was wearing that day. "Eat it." Mina nodded. She started to lick, scraping her tongue up the woman's legs, from the bottom of the footwear all the way up to her calves.

Cherri crossed her legs on her throne chair. She knew this and loved it, and she needed to stop thinking that it made her evil. She'd never be evil, because she didn't have an evil bone in her body.

She'd just been born that way.

She'd been thinking of the name before, but when she looked up, she realized that there would be no need for a name. The girl had an expression like she'd like to complain, but instead she began to follow the orders that were in front of her. The four girls had awoken and stood up. They were all tall, and all of them very thin. They were all very pale, as if they weren't allowed to have any color. Not even on their skin. Their eyes looked like rubies. Each of them was a cerise, like many others. The four of them went to help clean off the poor girl, who now looked identical to them. The new girl's heart was filled with joy. She felt herself to be much more assured of her purpose now than she was previously. There was no longer any way to tell the girl from the other four, since they were all identical. She had come into the palace terrified. But like those before her, she too became red haired and paper-white, changed into a cerise.

Her face was now right in front of the woman's pussy. With no hesitation, the new cerise started to mindlessly lick Cherri Pie's cherry.

"Is it good, my little one?"

Cherri Pie's pussy felt like a warm blanket on her lips. Her tongue started to push its way in, her lips trying to taste the sweet juices which flowed over Cherri's fingers. She then pushed in deeper. "I guess that answers that." She put one hand on the Recipe Book next to her, flipping to her chapter with all her recipes- at the very front, a mosaic of Cherri Pie was imprinted in, all the wonderful details of her scarlet kingdom and most loyal assistants, the cerise appeared, thus becoming a part of its fables forever more.

No more the sounds of the wind, water and earth around the world could be heard. All sounds were now silenced by the red landscape. A gentle hum, a whisper if you listened hard enough, you wouldn't hear the sound of nature of kingdoms fighting in petty wars anymore. The only sound was the slurping, scraping, and sucking of tongue on clitoris.

That, and the ding of an oven.