Scapegrace paced around her kitchen counter, trying to look intimidating while wearing an apron and holding a butter knife.
"You know, Larfen." she said to the ham sandwich on a plate she was orbiting around, "I've been thinking."
"Well, that's a first, mate." said the sandwich, despite not having a mouth ... or any other obvious organs, for that matter.
Scape poked Larfen's bread with the knife, leaving a small dent. "Food doesn't make snarky comments!" she said sharply.
"Yes, Mistress. Sorry, Mistress." Larf replied.
Scapegrace paused for a moment. "Wait a minute, this is a PPC fic. It'd be lame without snarky comments. So snark, but snark respectfully."
"So anyway, I was thinking. The plan was that I'd cut you up and eat you now that you've been turned into a ham sandwich, but I had a better idea I'd like to run past you."
"Go on." Larfen said, sounding excited.
"I've got a thing for corsets."
"That was pretty bloody obvious ma- Mistress."
"I thought I'd make a sandwich-sized corset. Then I'd put it on you, and squish you up real good. Then I'd work it up you so you'd be much narrower and easier to eat. I wouldn't have to clean as much too. What do you think?"
"That's ... actually a lot better idea than what I had when we decided to do this. I'd like to be squished up, Mistress. Let's do it."
"Well, I'll be back then." Scape said, putting the knife back in a drawer. "I'll need to make a corset that'll fit you."
"Don't run off now!" she called out as she left the room, chuckling as she did so.
"I don't have any legs, mate, I mean, Mistress." Larfen replied.
Scapegrace went off to her super-secret high-tech engineering complex, which is to say, the shed out back with all the robot parts in it. She spent most of the afternoon trying to figure out how to build a sandwich-sized corset, without much luck. Over the next few hours, the shed acquired a small pile of leather and plastic from Scape's attempts to build the thing she'd need to give Larf a good time.
Scapegrace, of course, didn't ignore the sandwich she'd left in the kitchen. She frequently came back there to make sure Larfen wasn't lonely, and sometimes to butter his bread or open him up and add mayonnaise.
Eventually, it was insanely late, even by Scape's standards. So, she gave up on the corset-making for the night, and went back to the kitchen. "Ugh." she said. "I didn't realize making a tiny corset would be this hard."
"So the idea's off then?"
Scape picked up her butter knife.
"Mistress." Larfen added.
"So sandwiches can learn." Scapegrace commented. "If I don't think of anything by tomorrow morning, we're going with the original plan."
"Shucks." said Larfen. "It sounded like a lot of fun, Mistress."
"It did, yeah." Scapegrace said. "Now, I think you need some sleep too." Scapegrace took out a roll of plastic wrap, covered Larfen (and his plate) with it, and put him in the fridge so he wouldn't go bad overnight.
The next morning, around ten AM (Scape slept in), Scapegrace went to the kitchen and retrieved her sandwich from the fridge. She lovingly unwrapped Larfen and set him back down on the counter. "Did you sleep well?"
"It's pretty cold in there, Mistress." Larfen said.
"It's a fridge. What'd you expect?"
"Good point." Larfen said. "We still on for the corsets?"
"Probably not ... wait, hold on, I have an idea!" Scapegrace ran out of the kitchen and went to her shed.
"Aw, she didn't even jab me for that." lamented Larfen a bit after Scape had left.
Scapegrace worked furiously for just under two hours. Her fingers flew on the sewing machine, drills, and other DIY equipment she had accumulated. Scapegrace emerged triumphant with a bundle of cloth, plastic, rope, and any other components the author missed in his thirty seconds of research that could be used to give a ham sandwich a nice extreme corseting.
Scapegrace half-ran most of the way to the kitchen, then stopped. She gathered herself and strode in fiercely. She had an image to maintain in front of her eventual food, after all.
As Scapegrace stepped into the kitchen, a clock somewhere in the house struck noon. "I have your corset." she said to Larfen. The sandwich, surprisingly, didn't reply. "It took a while."
Scapegrace set the corset down on the table and started checking it over. About a minute later, she looked at Larfen and asked "You ready?".
Larfen didn't say anything.
Just then, a much more human Larfen emerged from the other entrance to the kitchen.
"Oh." he said. "You managed to make the corset."
Scape looked around. "Right, the consciousness-transferring spell only lasts 24 hours. And we can't do it again until the next full moon."
"Oh well." Larfen said. "The pile of really lewd stuff is off, then?"
"Maybe..." Scapegrace said. "We could still figure something out. I've got a whole closet full of corsets from previous Shipfests, after all."
"Huh. Yeah. You did show that to me ... Mistress."
"Well, let's go take a look and see if we can think of something." Scapegrace said. "After all, what's a good shipfic without a transparent sequel hook?"
The pair of Boarders then went off to Scapegrace's closet to see if they could come up with any more crazy kinky shenanigans, since their original idea hadn't panned out all that well.