Someone requested their dodo girl be put in a perilous situation, and I thought what better than being prepared for the oven?

Wrote a story to go with this, which you can read below.

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(stuffing, bbw bird girl, cooking vore, implied vore)

Clinging tightness. Numbing cold. Gentle warmth. A number of alien sensations assaulted the dodo girl as she slowly rose from her slumber. Her mind was groggy and sluggish, and she struggled to comprehend her situation and surroundings. She was stuck on top of her chubby gut, forced to lay forward on her knees. She tried to rise from the uncomfortable position, only to find that her body was bound; a tight rope pinned her arms to her torso and held her in place.

The dodo didn't understand why she was tied up. A few more sluggish movements accomplished nothing but causing her to slide around on the cold surface she had been forced onto. Glancing down, she could see she was resting in some sort of large metal basin. The smooth metal chilled her even through her coat of brown and yellow feathers. Yet at the same time, a gentle warmth was emanating all around her body, though it was particularly prominent on her raised rump. It was a pleasant sensation, one that soothed her and encouraged calmness despite her strange situation.

Still, the dodo struggled, knowing that no good could come from being caught and bound. Her futile wiggling was interrupted by a door across the room slowly opening. Through it strode a portly little woman, her face obscured by long blonde hair but her plump red lips still shining in the gentle light of the room. She was dressed up in a white chef's attire and smiled at the sight of the dodo, who continued to writhe in confusion. She walked over to the plump bird and began to gently stroke the feathers on her head, which calmed the dim-witted avian down.

"So, you woke up yes? That's fine, fine; maybe even helpful. I still need to do quite a bit of work before you are, ah, "ready" for the dinner I promised. Don't worry though; it shouldn't take much longer."

Memory suddenly returned to the dodo girl. That was right! This kind old lady had invited her into her restaurant and given her food! For free! So much of it too. It had been too long since the girl had been able to stuff her beak without a care. She gleefully gorged on all manner of dishes, and through it all the chef had waited upon her every whim. She didn't mind how much of a glutton the bird was. She brought her every dish she desired and then some. When the dodo had eaten her fill, she remembered feeling so very tired... and then the wonderful chef offered her a free place to sleep!

She had thought it was an incredible stroke of fortune at the time, but now she was feeling conflicted. Why had the chef put her inside this large metal pan? It wasn't like any bed she had ever slept in, and it certainly wasn't comfortable like one.

She opened her beak to question her circumstances, but was cut short by a wonderful sight set before her eyes; more food. A large bowl filled to the brim with bread stuffing was placed before her. Without a second thought, the dodo girl plunged her beak into the bowl and began to gobble up its contents. With her body bound she had no other way to eat, but she didn't mind; she would gladly act like a pig at its trough if it meant she could get more delicious food.

The chef smiled even wider, ruffling the feathers on the dodo's head once again in a sign of affection. "Yes yes, that's a good girl now. You just stuff yourself full; don't hold back. We need you filled to the brim! I'll be back in a moment, I just need to check my recipes..."

The dodo didn't listen to her words. She didn't have any space in her mind for anything other than eating. The chef meanwhile had walked to a table across the room and begun flipping through them. As she thought, she could find no recipe for preparing dodo harpies. She'd prepared all kinds of harpy before; swan, goose, turkey, even more exotic ones such as peacock. But the dodo harpies were exceptionally rare, thought by some to be extinct. To find one simply wandering around aimlessly outside her restaurant was nothing short of a miracle. It was an opportunity she could not squander; she had to have this bird plumped, plucked, and prepped for a wonderful feast.

In the end she decided that cooking a dodo was probably going to be quite similar to that of mundane birds, so her instincts at a chef could carry her through the process. She gathered her ingredients and tools before returning to the table where the gluttonous avian was still hard at work stuffing her gut. She gave the girl a few pats on her plump rump and began the process of preparing her for cooking.

She pulled out a pair of large frills and gently wrapped them around the dodo's feet, making her look even more like a turkey roast. Then she gently placed an array of ripe mangoes inside the roasting pan around the bird. The juices would help season the roast while also serving as a festive decoration. The dodo, for her part, didn't mind having a bed of fruits shoved beneath her. It was odd to be sure, but a more comfortable bed than the cold metal she had been lying on previously. Pleased with her progress, the chef turned around and flicked her fingers at a large clay oven. The small fire within it suddenly surged, crackling loudly and bathing the room in a heavy blanket of heat.

All these changes didn't distract the dodo from what really mattered; food. As soon as she had emptied one bowl, the kind chef slid another in front of her. She dove into this one with just as much greed. She could feast for hours before getting full, and had the figure to prove it. And when she started to gorge, there was no stopping her. She had a one-tract mind that had difficulty focusing at the best of times, but nothing held her attention quite like delicious cooking. She didn't even pay any attention to the strange pricking sensation she felt on her back. It was inconsequential compared to consumption.

So the dodo continued to happily stuff herself while the chef meticulously plucked feather after feather off the bird's body. Slowly a layer of soft, tan flesh was exposed to the warm kitchen air. The dodo's flab looked absolutely succulent even without any prep work. The chef could hardly contain her enthusiasm, and a primal hunger inside her was tempting her to simply gulp down the bird raw. But centuries of working to prepare all manner of feasts had hardened the chef's resolve. She knew that a properly cooked meal was worth the wait.

After a few minutes of rapid but careful work, the top of the dodo had been plucked clean save for the the hair on her head and feather's on her tail. Those would serve as wonderful compliments to her roasted form. The oblivious bird hadn't even noticed, or simply didn't care; there was still more food to eat after all. She was onto her third bowl, and had stuffed herself so thoroughly the her bulging gut had caused her plump breasts to spill over the side of the pan. The chef marveled at the size of them; the two jiggling spheres would be particularly choice cuts of meat.

Chuckling to herself, the chef began to douse the bird in a thick sauce made from mango chunks mixed with honey. The dodo let out a little sqwak of confusion, but her golden eyes then caught sight of the bowl again, so she returned to her mindless munching. The sauce was brushed over her meaty backside, with particular attention paid to her round rump. It wiggled with the slight motions made by the bird as she gorged and glimmered with light from the oven. There was no doubt about it, the dodo's derriere was her highlight. The chef made mental note to save some cuts of it for herself; she deserved to enjoy the fruits of her labor after all.

Gently shaking some crushed pepper and nut powder over the top of the dodo, the seasoning of the bird's top was complete. Now for the rest of her. The chef began the laborious task of turning the obese harpy over, and for the first time she began to seriously protest. She still didn't understand what was going on, but now she was being prevented from indulging in stuffing! The binding, plucking, and basting were inconsequential compared to the prospect of being denied food. She did her best to break free of the chef's grasp, but she possessed deceptive strength while the dodo was weak and flabby. After a few moments of awkward struggling, the roast-to-be had been flipped and was now laying belly up. In this position, the dodo was able to catch her first glimpse of the giant oven behind her, the fire inside roaring with menace.

The dodo gulped in fear. Her sluggish mind was starting to piece together the situation. Looking down at her partially stuffed and plucked form, it suddenly became painfully obvious what was going on. Before she could do anything about it, a thick tube was shoved into her beak. She let out a panicked series of muffles, but they were silence by the flow of honey.

Honey. Sweet sweet honey. The dodo was instantly calmed again. Her eyes glazed over, and she began to greedily gulp down the contents of the tube. All her fears faded away as her taste-buds flooded with savory sugar. She returned to her mindless consumption, her only wish being to drink from the tube even faster.

"Sorry dear, I didn't want to interrupt your little meal, but I have to work on the rest of your lovely chub. Besides, it seems you like the honey stuffing anyways, yes? Mmmmm, don't worry, this will all turn out just... perfectly."

The chef once again began the process of plucking while the dodo focused on oblivious gulping. Her round belly, free of its feather coat, was now totally exposed. It gently rose and fell in rhythm to to the Dodo's swallows. The chef gave it a soft little pat before covering it in another thick layer of sauce. Taking her brush, she made sure each fold and curve of flab was thoroughly covered. Every inch of her needed to be carefully prepared to ensure she met with the chef's high standards.

More basting, more seasoning; the process of prepwork repeated itself until finally the dodo was completely ready. Now she found herself once again in distress; the sweet flow of honey had stopped. She sucked greedily on the tube, but found she could force no more filling out of it. She whined and warbled before the chef popped the hose from her beak. Looking up at the portly blonde, the dodo opened her beak to speak; only to find it suddenly stuffed with a particularly large mango. One which, despite her gluttonous demeanor, she could not swallow.

"Well dear, I'm afraid the time for eating is over. Well, your eating anyways. You are...quite full, I should say. Hm hm~"

She delivered a firm slap to the dodo's meaty belly. It barely jiggled, so thoroughly filled with honey and bread. The dodo was too dull to feel any discomfort from the fullness, but even her small mind knew enough to fear the roaring fire looming before her.

"I've quite enjoyed the time we've spent together, and it seems you have as well, yes? I'm afraid though that this next part will not be... quite so pleasant."

With that remark, the chef shoved the roasting pan with remarkable force. The dodo's eyes went wide as she slid perfectly into the oven, a large metal gate suddenly manifesting itself behind her and sealing her inside. Inside the heat of the oven, with the searing flames licking her sides, the reality of the situation once again became clear. The dodo girl could do nothing but let out muffled warbles and cries around the mango gag as she felt herself slowly begin to become what she had been prepared as; a delicious harpy roast.

She wasn't sure if it was because of some kind of magic or her own dull senses, but she didn't feel any pain. That did little to diminish the horror of watching her skin slowly turn from a light tan to a glazed brown. All over her body the heat smothered her, slowly causing her to crisp and cook. She did her best to struggle, but it was a futile endeavor. Even if she wasn't bound, she was too stuffed to do anything but lay in the pan in defeat. The sticky sauce sunk into her skin, and a savory aroma danced through the searing air. If she knew it wasn't the smell of her own roasting flesh, she'd have found it delightful.

As time went on, what little struggling the dodo could do diminished. Her muscles cooked and her mind grew heavy. She even found her mouth watering at the smell permeating from her roasting belly. The heat of the oven went from overbearing to soothing, and she found herself drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

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A few times over the course of her cooking the dodo found herself regaining conscious, albeit only for a few moments. She was vaguely aware of the chef pulling her out of the oven and complimenting her on how "well she was roasting". Then she would apply another basting of sauce, adjust her position, or simply give her a gentle pat on the belly or rump. After that it was back to the heat of the oven, the roar of the fire, and the cooking of flesh. In a matter of moments, sleep would return to claim her mind.

But this time when the dodo woke, she no longer heard the oven or felt its warmth. She did not see the gentle light of the kitchen. Instead she found herself in a harsh and uninviting place. A scarlet light bathed everything in an ominous glow, and the surroundings she saw passing by her looked alien and abstract. Somehow, it all felt even more threatening than the oven she'd spent the last few hours roasting inside.

Roasting... the dodo looked down at her own form in dismay. She was thoroughly cooked now. A perfect bird roast, a huge belly covered in crispy brown skin with a fresh coating of sauce. Her arms were no longer bound, but they had been cooked to the point where she could manage no movement other than small wiggles. The same applied to her legs, which now truly resembled thick meaty drumsticks. To top it all off she'd been transferred from the cooking pan to a festive platter, once again adorned with mangoes and other tropical decorations. A slice of pineapple with a cherry in the middle sat on top of the great dome of her belly, truly solidifying her place as a meal.

The platter itself lay upon a serving cart which wheeled down the scarlet halls in a hurry. Pushing it along was the chef of course, who reacted to her roast waking up with surprise.

"Oh my... I didn't expect you to wake back up dear. You should really go back to sleep. I'm afraid for you, things are about to get... well, lets just say you're going to make a fine gift for my sisters."

The dodo let out pitiful whimpers that were barely audible. Fear pierced her dazed mind, and she found herself unable to return to blissful slumber no matter how much she craved it. The cart was wheeled through a pair of ornate doors and the dodo found herself being placed on the center of a decorated table. She looked around sluggishly, her eyes widening in horror: all around her were a variety of horrible creatures. They came in all shapes and sizes, but most were grotesquely obese. Their bodies were covered in multiple mouths from which tongues flicked out in anticipation. The creatures licked their lips with delight at the sight of the roast bird before them.

The chef herself walked to the side of the dodo. She no longer appeared as a kind little old woman. Now she was a fat devil with crimson skin, her once gentle smile twisted into a toothy grin. On the center of her meaty belly was a huge mouth from which a giant tongue in the shape of a hand emerged. It passed plates around the table in an absurd and grotesque display. The dodo couldn't even muster the energy to shriek around her gag; she was stunned into a horrified silence. The chef began to address the gaggle of otherwordly creatures, ignoring the dodo's distress and treating her like nothing more than a prize roast.

"Dear sisters, I've brought you a very lovely little gift. I know you've enjoyed the harpy roasts I've prepared in the past, yes? But this is a very special one. A perfectly plump bird that few have even seen, and perhaps none in this century have tasted. But tonight, we shall all get to enjoy this lovely roast in its entirety."

Suddenly the dodo felt sharp fingers dancing across the brown dome that was her cooked belly. The chef's hands, once small and gentle, had grown into wicked long claws. They resembled incredibly sharp knives, perfect for carving through meat. Perfect for carefully slicing off choice cuts of the roast the dodo had become.

"Now then...who would like the first cut? Hm hm~"