Denise skipped happily down the street.  She had just finished knocking on every door in her neighborhood, and had convinced every single person she met to buy Girl Scout cookies!  

As the troop leader, she hadn’t expected she would be doing this, but when several of the girls came down with the flu, she figured it was the best way to make sure they reached their goal for the year.  Dressed in her Girl Scout leader’s uniform, she had made her way from one end of the street to the other.  She smiled to herself, proud of her success.  After all, she had grown up in this neighborhood, and most of the residents knew her, either from her high school days, when she was all-state in track, or currently, as a high school teacher and well-respected member of the community.  Still, not one had turned her down!

Just as she was about to turn for home, she remembered there was one more house she hadn’t been to yet.  It was off the beaten path, and most people either didn’t know it was there or tried to forget that it was.  Denise knew an old woman lived there, and she remembered when she and her friends were kids, they would make jokes about the ‘witch’ that lived up on the hill.  She had never actually been to the house, but it WAS in her neighborhood, and she just KNEW she had to sell the old lady some cookies, to finish her perfect day!

With purpose in her steps, she smoothed her khaki skirt down and headed up the hill to the old woman’s house.  Denise was glad it was such an unseasonably warm day for being in the middle of winter; she could wear her skirt, short sleeved shirt, and vest, and still be comfortable outside.  Clutching her order form, she finally made it to the top of the hill and saw the house up close for the first time.  It seemed much larger than it had from a distance, much too large for one person.  Even the door seemed huge…and it was, almost eight feet tall, solid oak, with a large wooden knocker in the middle.  Denise took a deep breath and knocked loudly on the door.  She waited….and waited…

Finally, she heard the door creak open, and suddenly it swung all the way in.  The first thing that caught Denise’s attention was a wonderful aroma that hit her immediately and seemed to be everywhere.  The large room that she saw was well decorated, much nicer than she had imagined, and seemed to be taken right out of the Medieval period.  Denise was so overwhelmed by everything she saw that she almost overlooked the tiny woman standing in the doorway! She gasped; the woman looked terribly old, and couldn’t have been more than four feet tall!

Denise stammered, “Umm…umm…want to buy…cookies?”

The old lady looked up at Denise and cackled, “Why looky….a pretty little Girl Scout…come to sell me some cookies…!  Come in, come in….what’s your name, little girl….?” the old woman laughingly asked.

“Umm…I’m Denise…Denise Miller….I’m the troop leader…!” Denise almost shouted, a little annoyed that the elderly woman was treating her like a child.  Then the aroma wafted in again, from the next room back, and Denise stopped, breathing in the delicious scent.

“Ah…yes…little Denise…I remember you….running around with your friends…always running….but not so little anymore, are we?” the old woman cackled, reaching out and giving Denise’s tummy a soft squeeze.  Denise gasped in surprise, and blushed a bit, thinking that she had put on a bit of weight since her high school days…

“Ah, quite the piggy now, aren’t we?” the old lady chuckled.  “Been eating a few too many of your own product, haven’t you, my little piggy?” The consternation at being teased like this was starting to show on Denise’s face.

“What? No…I mean…” Denise stammered, trying to regain control of this situation.  “Are you going to buy my cookies….” Denise was interrupted in her speech by the delicious aroma once again floating in from the kitchen.

“Ah…I see, little girl…you must be wondering what that wonderful smell is…it just happens, I was making some cookies myself….” the old woman said, reaching up and taking the order form from Denise’s outstretched hand.  “Does the little girl want to try one….does she….does she….?”

“I….” Denise muttered, trying to refocus on finishing her sale… “they do smell yummy….”

“Yummy….yes, little Denise, they ARE yummy…” the woman exclaimed as she reached around Denise, her warm hands sliding underneath Denise’s shirt, further clouding the dazed young teacher’s mind.  “You know you can’t resist….they’re right back through that door…”

“yummy…cookies…” Denise stumbled slowly towards the doorway, lured by the wonderful smell, too entranced to notice that the old woman’s wrinkled hands were slowly undressing her as she walked.  By the time she got to the doorway, she was completely nude, and as she walked into the huge kitchen, the aroma completely overpowered her senses.  All she could focus on was the wonderful smell, and the basket of cookies seemingly hanging by itself in the center of the room.

The witch backed away a bit, collecting Denise’s clothing, as she watched the helpless Girl Scout leader get closer and closer to the basket.  “Almost there girl…just a little farther,” the woman cackled as Denise rushed forward, reaching the basket and hungrily snatching a large warm cookie, devouring it.  “So…good…thank you….”

“No, Denise…THANK YOU….” The old woman laughed heartily.  Suddenly, Denise realized she couldn’t move her feet!  She looked down to see what was going on, and gasped in shock as she saw herself standing in the middle of what appeared to be a huge vat of cookie dough that was recessed into the floor.  

“Help…what’s going on…I can’t move…!” Denise struggled to free her feet as the witch pulled the basket of cookies out of her reach.   “Help…help…!” Her head cleared for a moment, allowing Denise to take in her situation, and also to realize her clothes were gone.  “You…you witch!  Where are my clothes? Why can’t I move?”  She tried desperately to pull both feet out together, causing her to lose her balance and fall back flat into the cookie dough.  Now she was completely stuck!

“Mmmm…I think my next batch of cookies will be REALLY yummy….what shall I call them…hmmm…maybe DeniseDoodles? I’ll have to think about it…” the witch laughed, as Denise sunk farther and farther into the vat of dough.  She smiled as she watched the helpless young woman struggling, which only caused Denise to sink in faster.

“Please…let me go…please…please…” Denise pleaded, her face now the only part of her above the dough.  Suddenly, Denise felt her feet touch the bottom, stopping her from sinking any farther.  A smile crept over her face; there was hope yet, surely the old woman wasn’t REALLY planning to make cookies with her as one of the ingredients, right….?  As she thought this, Denise suddenly felt a warm tingle start to envelop her body.  The warm cookie dough was pushing inside her, between her legs!  She gasped as the warm dough filled her, pressing inside her, overwhelming her senses once again.  Denise was finding it more and more difficult to keep her feet touching the bottom as the dough pushed her closer and closer to a dizzying climax.  As the wave of pleasure finally rolled completely over her like a giant rolling pin, her feet slid off the bottom and she sunk the rest of the way in.

The old woman walked over and turned up the heat on the vat, waiting as Denise’s body slowly dissolved into the dough.  Soon, Denise would be completely dissolved, just another ingredient in the witch’s special batch of cookies.


A few days later, the witch’s cookies were a big hit at the local farmer’s market, although there were those who took exception to her claim that they were “The Only Real Girl Scout Cookies”.  One bite of the sweet cookies with the smiley faces, however, and all the complaining stopped.  Even the Girl Scouts themselves were buying them, although they did think the smiling face on the cookies looked oddly familiar…..