Space Station: HODD SUBTLE: S.S.H.S
HODD Haven's Ordered Daily Delivered.
Mission IMP Possible
The Baker’s wife put out the sweetcakes that morning. Singing lustily, she popped them into the furthest most corner of Skye to cool at 5am just as she did everyday. They were thirteen in all – twelve she had set for the King’s Most High Table at Castle and one she had kept for her and her good fellow to share and enjoy with the Goodness of Fair.
They were perfectly delightful. Moist, buttery, rounds of pale, delicious creations, just like the King and her man loved them and she was a big woman; let’s face it, she was large, so they were ample.
A strong ampule of woman, not overweight she was robustly feminine – elongated at full mast and standing at ship size, she was buxom strong in a striking Amazonian way, with lots of deep, umber–red, coppery hair in the sun.
She was a full comesome wench who looked like she had seen some powerfully, strong men in her time and she wore a wide feral grin to suit her very warm, rich, amber skin. Her name was Apple Butter, and she was counting the cats and kittens in the courtyard, who had put on their finest mittens – believing they could prowl and get fed by any who looked at them night or day.
How she loved those cheeky cats! They were like her children, and they kept the despicable lesser out.
“Aah . . . with all these cats around, the mice will not have time to play!” said she and happily swept her thick ponytail back. It flew like horse wind and flared out in ruddy, orange–red mane up behind her and as she whispered a word, a tall black sun appeared by her side, and she shone like the sky at sunset before night and bright silver flashed in her hair.
As Milo the Magical Cart and Limbic Orderly from Skye Castle trundled by Apple Butter to collect the wares, she handed the order over. . . and into number Five Porta of the Luminous Gates of the O’clock it went and the Sky blazed with Light, and Dawn became Day.
