Baker's Recipe 8

The whole time that Baker was telling me his story, he was acting out his actions and his emotions upon my body. He is a creation of mixed feelings, as his disdain for being told he was for sex clashed with his skill with it. His mechanical phallus buried itself into me, its springs pistoning into my womb! My little body stretched out, my eyes rolling back, my toes curling, my stomach bulging from the repetitive thrusting going on within me.

Each touch, each slap, was enough to convince my body that I was deep into the breeding pits at home, presenting myself before the most virile and gifted of kobolds in my tribe.

And yet, while he prepared my body to make that egg for him, I knew I could never develop it on my own. And I saw the means to the end staring at me from the other side—that demonic form with a smile wide and teeth sharp. From between Zelb’s legs, there emerged a long, throbbing phallus, coated in ichor and pulsing with power.

Zelb approached us, but Baker had no idea. She ran her fingers over my horns, laughing sadistically into my ear. “And now, the pact will be sealed,” she cooed, thrusting forward, her own cock joining Baker’s.

My eyes rolled back, and I screamed, feeling the energy fill my body, the laughter rolling out like an earthquake through my very soul.

I collapsed onto the bed, laying on my back and staring up at the ceiling, arms and legs outstretched, body drenched in desire.

“Are you alright, Darling?” Baker asked, rubbing my head, but I grit my teeth, nodding, my toes grabbing the bedding. “Here comes egg!”

“What? Already? My, my, you are fast! W… what do I do, Darling?”

I could not answer him, for the feeling of having that egg from within my womb at an accelerated speed was quite a strange sensation. Pain flared up as my womb worked in developing the shell, and what would take a whole cycle was happening in minutes.

My belly showed the seeds of this labor, swelling out larger than before. Never was an egg this large within me. I’ve seen mothers-to-be who swell to strange sizes, unable to move. The only other times I had ever developed an egg, it was small, lumpy, misshapen, and it never was at the full gestation.

The matriarchs would look upon my creations and shake their heads in shame. “Tik Tik will never be a mother,” one would say, “That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Tik Tik’s intelligence is far too uncommon to let the bloodline responsible for it to end with her.”

I did not mourn my inability to be a mother. I only cared about making my traps. Those were my children, not new kobolds. I would help the tribe in other ways—ways that provided immediate and visible results.

The egg dropped. I rolled my eyes back, my tongue hanging out. I could see myself laying there as if I didn’t’ have any control of my body. In fact, I was floating beside myself, my vision guided by another’s hand towards the quivering slit between my legs.

There I was, open wide for Baker, and myself, to observe. Without her saying anything, I knew this boon was the work of my demonic trespasser. Her breath hit the back of my neck, becoming heavier and heavier.

Soon, the slightly lumpy, purple-striped black shell breeched. My slit puckered and quivered around it, my hands moving down over my cheeks and down my body.  I squealed out in rapturous joy, soon collapsing as the most substantial part exited me, letting the rest plop down on the floor in a mess of slime and fluid.

“Congratulations,” Zelb says in a hoarse chuckle. “You’ve made yourself a beautiful egg. How does it feel?”

Immediately, my mind returned to my body, and I gasped, sitting up, sweat staining the sheets.

“Oh my, Darling. Are you alright?”

How could I tell him the extent of that existential journey? I had no idea what to say for myself, either. “Never done egg big like this before,” I said. “Tik Tik not sure Baker can use.”

Baker tilted his head. “There’s no actual father for this thing. I mean, I don’t even make cream come out of this thing,” He flicks his mechanized member, letting it thump dully.

“Yeah,” Zelb said, kissing at my neck. “What’s the matter, Tik Tik? Don’t want him cracking that open and using it in his dish? I mean, it’s as natural as a cow giving her milk, and you gave that. Why not let him have this?”

“What you want?” I snapped.

Baker recoiled. “I’m sorry, Darling. If this is special to you, I understand. I just… I was just hoping you could help me out with something… my masterpiece.

Masterpiece…? Alchemists always talk about making a masterpiece. The most potent mages seek to craft the strongest of spells. Could this egg of mine help Baker create his own masterpiece?

Zelb said nothing, floating away to the back of my mind. Zelb allowed me to make this egg, so maybe… just maybe the quicker I get rid of it, the better it will be for me. “Let’s see,” I said, picking up the massive thing, lifting it up to Baker, “what Baker’s masterpiece be.”

He grabs the egg, holding it up to the side of his head. He giggled, hugging the thing. “Oh, Darling. This is going to be perfect! Now, let’s get going to the kitchen.”