Sweet Treats: Maggie's Story

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#1 of Sweet Treat Vore stories

Maggie the mouse needed something to eat or she would die. Ginger the cat needed something just as bad too.


She opened her bakery window a crack on the third day I quietly entered this town but I didn't enter, despite the sweet and welcoming smells that were tempting me to come in. Even though I am only seven years old my parents taught me well.

Of course my parents would have also told me not to enter a town where only our feline enemies live, but I'm desperate for food. No I'm DYING for food and I don't know when I'll come across another town.

Dad always got the food with the other men in our village but when those cats came to what we thought was our well-hidden home and gorged themselves on the adult mice and rounded up the children, most likely saving them for dessert, I was fortunate enough to escape.

Of course saying I am "fortunate" might be an understatement. Following the weeks since my village was destroyed I haven't had a decent bite to eat, only nibbling on bits of food I managed to salvage from my empty home after those ugly miserable old cats left and it's showing on my body. I can see my ribcage through my dirty gray fur.

I had never traveled outside my village before and so I decided to head north, not sure where I was going, only thinking to myself I needed to find more of my own kind, when I happened upon this giant town. I soon learned that not only is this wealthier village infested with cats, but a majority of them are female cats.

Pretty female cats with shiny well-kempt fur, perfectly white sharp teeth and glimmering claws. They are lovely creatures and I hate them with every fiber of my being. My parents, neighbors, and friends never harmed them and yet these giant monsters feel no regret or give a second thought about swallowing my kind like we're candy. There are other things to eat beside meat. How about berries? Would that kill them?

Anyways, I hide from them. I hide behind dumpsters, scurry into holes when I hear approaching footsteps and tuck myself into shadows when they come near. I am not planning on making this place my new home. I just need to get enough food for my travels and then I'll leave take off.

And I didn't have to look far after entering the town to see who I was gonna steal from. Her bakery is called Ginger Cakes' Sweet House and from the looks of it the ginger-furred cat who owns the bakery is just as lovely if not more than the other cats that live in this town. Even from a distance, every time the lady throws her trash away I could see that she keeps herself healthy. Her fur is beautiful, though at times matted with flour or sprinkles and her eyes are a bright green.

But there was one thing that makes this otherwise beautiful killing-machine imperfect: she is missing her left paw. I like to think she had it bitten off by a bigger predator, but in all seriousness she was probably born that way.

So anyways, I searched her trash cans every night for nearly two days after the streets were deserted and she closed up her shop for the day and went up to her upstairs apartment, but I couldn't find a single edible thing to eat. All she had thrown away in that last two days were wrappers. Wrappers with no food residue on them. What was she? Some kind of master baker who never messed up any of her creations? Mom was a master baker, but she always burnt at least one thing every time she made her delicious pies and cakes.

Mom....I really miss her. I HATE cats....

And as I said before, on the third day I was nearly out of my food and was just about to leave her area and go look through another cat's trash when I noticed something: She left the bakery window open!

The smells that hit me as I climbed her windowsill made me tremble. The scent of breads, cookies and sugar smacked me so hard I nearly drooled and when I cautiously peeked my head through the small opening I nearly died on the spot. It was dark, but my eyes Could still make out all the goodies she had baked for the day! And since I was in the land of the giants everything from the cupcakes to the shortbread were bigger than me!

I could literally take two cookies and be set for months! I almost went in right then and there, but I didn't. It was too risky doing it without a plan or knowing this cat's routine. What if she didn't leave her bakery and go up to her upstairs apartment as soon as she closed up her shop? What if she came down during the night for a snack? No. Going in at that time would have been a mistake. My only hope was she'd forget to closer her window for the next few days and in that time I could watch her and know her routine and come up with a plan.

Then I could take what I needed and leave this mean nightmare town.

It was a pain to wait though. For the next three days, my food finally ran out and my stomach constantly voiced its distress but I forced myself to wait. And in those three days she never once realized that her window was open. In fact on day two of watching her, she even cracked it open a little more and while I was far away from her bakery, my mouth really did water at the delicious smells while my stomach's rumbles grew painful.

But my patience paid off. Every night after closing and turning off her lights, I slowly crept up the windowsill and watched the stairs she went up until daybreak, my stomach twisting and my eyes drooping but to my delight she never came down.

And on this fourth night I finally go inside, my eyes trained on what I'm gonna steal. She keeps sample chocolate-chip cookies on the counter for her customers which are close to the window I come in from. I'll grab two of them and run. Then when I am safely out of her bakery I'll go to my hiding space, break the large cookies into crumbs, put them in my bookbag and head off.

Easy-peasy.

With a deep breath, I bolt to the cookies and before I could even grab the two I have my sights on, I heard something that makes my heart stop. The window closing. A second later something even worse happened.

A soft-furred and massive paw wraps itself around my body and lifts me up bringing me face to face with the grinning owner of Ginger Cakes' Sweet House.

She is even prettier and more terrifying up close. Her sharp teeth sparkle in the dark and in my horrified mind, I can't help but wonder if this is what my loved ones saw before they were swallowed up.

I don't speak. I can't speak. I can't even squeak, let alone force myself to die from a self-made heart attack, but she doesn't seem to mind my frozen panic as she places her nub on her waist.

"Really? I spend a week keeping my window open, staying up nearly every night, hiding under my window waiting for you to make a move and not to mention baking my very best sweets only for you to grab at the sample cookies?" she tsks sweetly, her mouth in a sad frown, but her green eyes dancing with excitement.

I blink at her disappointed words. Wait...she knows I have been watching her? I feel heart completely fall into my empty stomach as the cat gracefully walks over to the light switch and with her nub turns the lights open. The sudden illumination blinds me and I blink several times to adjust to the light. She hops on her counter, next to a tray of amazing looking purple icing cupcakes and crosses her legs.

"Please..." I beg, knowing it is hopeless, but I'll try anything because what else could I do?

She looks at me, her fake frown of sympathy becoming a smug little smirk.

"My name is Ginger. What's your name, my sweet?" she purrs, bringing me closer to her face and opening her soft paw so I'm standing right in the center of her hand. I look down briefly. I'm too high to jump. The fall will kill. I look back and tremble at the close proximity of her mouth. Perhaps falling to my death would be a better fate.

And as I think of my death, a sort of peace comes over me and washes away my fear. My parents were kind. Wonderful, kind and loving but they one night when I was five they sat me down and talked to me about death, namely if I were ever captured by an enemy species.

And as I stare up at my smiling and pretty enemy, my mother's words flash in my head.

"It might seem scary, but in the end we'll all be together again," mom had told me after I had started crying about being some bird's lunch.

My father had hugged me that night. "We might have a short life, but we and our friends will have eternity together."

At least I'll be with my family and friends soon, I think as I glare at her.

Her eyes widened in surprise.

"What's with the hostile look for, my sweet little mouse? You broke into my bakery-"

"And your kind ate my family and destroyed my home so....there's that," I spit at her. I wish I were older. If I were older I would know some really insulting curse words to say to her before she eats me.

Her face remains shocked for just a few more seconds before she breaks into a fit of laughter, putting her nub over her stomach as she laughs harder. I glared more angrily at her. She thinks my family being murdered was funny!?

"Oh my little sweet dear! How true! We can be such cruel creatures, but please keep in mind that nature-"

"-made you cruel," I finish, the bitterness coming out of my mom. "My dad taught me that. He also said all animals who eat others will burn in hell."

Her grin gets even wider. "You are a feisty little one! Come now, tell me your name and I'll give you a delicious freshly baked cupcake instead of one of those old nasty stale cookies," she offers.

My stomach rumbles at the mention of food. I want to die with dignity, but....

My stomach rumbles more loudly this time and the feline giggles, but keeps me up in the air.

If I am going to die, why not have a final taste of something sweet before I go?

"Margaret," I mutter.

I don't understand why her eyes practically glow at the name but they do and a second late she places me on the countertop but before I can even think about making a run for it, her thick tail surrounds me, blocking my escape, but I don't think about it as she places a huge cupcake right next to me.

I can't control myself. I dig into it, icing covering my face as I take a huge bite from the dessert and nearly moan at how good it is. The cake is vanilla and the icing is sweet in all the right ways. I forget about the cat who is most likely watching me fatten myself up on her sweet before she eats me and continue wolfing down her sweet.

"Goodness Maggie, you must have been starving!" the cat purrs and at the nickname I pause in my eating.

Maggie....

Mom and Dad's nickname for me....

I begin to say that but stop as the first word forms out of my mouth. She's going to kill me. She is not going to get anything more out of me, especially my good memories.

I begin eating the cupcake again and as I do, the feline hums, her tail swaying all around me, patiently waiting for me to finish and when I'm done, my stomach is slightly bigger and my whole dirty body is covered in cake bits and icing.

I'm full and I'll be seeing mom and dad again, I think to myself. No regrets as mom would say.

Ginger giggles again and I watch as one of her giant fingers comes down and gently pets my head.

"Maggie...did you come to this all cat village all by yourself? I know you told me your parents were killed by my species, but do you have any brothers or sisters with you?" she asks her tone still playful but her voice has a curious edge to it.

Because I know I am going to die I openly scoff at her question and cross my arms, turning away from her.

"Why do you want to know? So you can capture them too?"

Her tail pushes me closer to her body until I'm practically laying on her soft and warm thigh. And for one second I feel my mother's arms around me. Ginger's fur feels so similar to my mom's that it's scary. I try to pull away but the tail keeps me in place. Her single finger rubs my fur again.

"Not all cats are so mean, my little sweet. If I were anything like those horrible cats that killed your family wouldn't I have just grabbed you the first night I realized you were looking through my window? And tonight...why would I feed you? If I were just a mean old cat wouldn't I have just crushed your body into little bits the moment I caught you?"

Her voice sounds hurt and sad and I look up to see her rubbing her stomach...her eyes look miserable and suddenly without warning a hint of guilt hits me hard. She did have a point. The cats destroyed my village didn't see a point in conversation. They grabbed, swallowed and threw all my friends in a box before they took off.

"You are a cat..." I begin..."and I am a mouse..."

"A mouse child," she corrects and smiles down at me. I suddenly find myself smiling back at her. She looks so kind in that moment. "That makes you special to me. I've waited a long time for a mouse child. Most of the women in my town are on a waiting list for mouse children."

"What?"

She smiles again and lifts me up.

"My town is only filled with women because we are a special breed of cats. Misfits really. We can't reproduce and this..." she pats her flat stomach, "..is a constant reminder of our failure. By now I should have a bulging belly full of kittens waiting to burst out of me and my breasts should be much bigger filled with milk for my unborn babies, but..." the hand that is holding me begins to shake and my fear starts to come back. Before I can even think about jumping off her hand, it encloses around me again.

"...But I can't have kittens. Oh no. No children for me. No little ones to take care of. No one to give sweets to, but-" she smiles again, revealing her sharp teeth. "My species doctors found a cure for our disease. And it involves you sweet little mice children."

Even though I don't understand a word she's saying, my eyes widened with realization as to why those cats spared the mice children in my village. They are for these cats!

She lifts me up higher over her maw and I finally let out a squeak.

"You...you said you weren't like all the other cats!" I reminded her, my fear coming back in full force.

She smiles, her hand still shaky.

"I'm not. I know this might sound like I'm lying, Maggie, but please believe me, this won't hurt a bit. I'll see you in a little while my darling little sweet."

And with that she opens her mouth and drops me in. I land on her tongue and she seals her lips, imprisoning me in her wet prison, darkness surrounding me.

Her tongue instantly starts to toy with me. I'm pressed lightly to the roof of her mouth as her wet and rough tongue starts to rub me back and forth and apparently I must taste good despite the dirt on my fur because her mouth starts to vibrant with a loud purr.

I feel a deep pressure as she begins to suck on me like I'm some sort of hard candy and in a way I suppose I am. She takes everything off my body. The dirt, the icing and the cake and all the time she sucking her tongue keeps rolling me around. Her saliva covers me from head to toe until I'm just as wet as her unforgiving mouth is.

I try to grab onto something but everything is so wet and slimey and slippery that all I can do is take it as she stops sucking, my exhaustion hitting me hard and I barely have enough time to take a breath before her tongue presses me into her cheek, her deathly teeth inches from my body.

I let out a sob. They always play with us! Cats just love to play with their food and that's exactly what she had done with me from the very start! I curl my tiny hand into a ball and hit the inside of her cheek weakly.

I hear her gasp in surprise before a little chuckle vibrants around me and I feel her fingers lightly pressing the outside of her cheek, and even though her thick skin is keeping her fingers from directly touching my body, I can tell she's trying to rub my head again.

She pins me to the roof of her mouth one more time before tilting her tongue back. I start to slide backwards and finally look behind me.

The gaping hole of her throat pulsing almost as if it's welcoming me. I close my eyes and think of my mom and dad.

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Ginger easily swallows her late night guest and sighs in bliss as she feels the mouse child slip into her stomach. She pats her still flat tummy before closing her eyes to fully enjoy the small wiggles from little Maggie.

She feels Maggie try to climb the walls of her stomach for ten minutes from the digestive juices finally get to her. Ginger smiles and hums, hoping her mouse can hear it. Hoping it comforts her.

If Maggie were older Ginger would have explained that the cupcake she ate was laced with a special sort of medicine that would keep her from fully digesting. In fact at the moment the digestive juices were merely making little Maggie's body more mushy so she could travel more easily to Ginger's womb. Then she would explain that the reason why she didn't have a paw was because the doctors needed a bit of her body to place in her womb so when Maggie finally did enter that space, the mouse and the DNA from the cat paw would mix together, giving Maggie a much better body.

Of course the procedure would take about two months. That's what the doctors said. Ginger waited this long for a child. She could wait a little longer.

She would explain all of this to Maggie if the little girl were older, but she wasn't. Maggie was so young. So sweet. And so...tasty. Ginger swipe her tongue against her teeth savoring her little guest's flavor. She couldn't help but play with her little prey. She was a cat after all.

Ginger pats her flat stomach again and wonders if Maggie will remember anything when she's reborn again. Some cats claim their mouse-turn-kitten children do. Other say they don't. Ginger can't help but hope that Maggie remembers. The little girl was feisty. Ginger likes that quality in a kitten.

The cat also wonders if her kitten will come out with gray fur or will she have Ginger's pretty orange fur.

As Ginger hops off the counter and walks back upstairs to get some sleep she thinks back to how Maggie looked. Gray fur and bright blue eyes. She was adorable.

Ginger can't help but smile. No, she hopes Maggie is a gray-furred kitten with blue eyes. Things that adorable don't come around that often.

"Goodnight, my sweet little treat," Ginger whispers as she lays on her bed and closes her eyes, rubbing her nub on her stomach on last time.

Maybe it's her imagination or wishful thinking but she could swear her belly feels a little more round.