Baker's Recipe 6

Baker paused, hanging over me with his fingers frozen upon my form. “Is something the matter, Darling? You seem distracted.”

Of course, I was distracted. Ever since I had defeated the dark sorceress Estrasa, I’ve had a demon stuck in my head. Sometimes, she’d take over for me—make me say things I didn’t want to say or initiate an inopportune moment at the worst possible time.

“Come on,” Zelb said. As she spoke, I felt her tongue ride up and down along my horn. “It’s been so boring just forcing you to do things. Really, can’t we just work together? I’ve already told you that I’m in the business of granting wishes. As long as it has something to do with your body, I should be able to make it happen.”

“Why?” I asked her, the thought streaming from my mind. “Tik Tik okay, just… enjoying,” I lied to Baker. “Keep going.”

The mannequin nodded, his hands playing along my body. He lowered his head, placing slimy kisses upon my belly.

“Look at him,” Zelb said, resting her weight upon my head. “He’s working so hard for you, girl. But your dumb biology means it’ll take oh so long to make what he wants.”

“Why do you want it?” I squeaked in my draconic language.

“Ah! I don’t understand you, Darling. That isn’t a culinary language, I’m afraid. Though, I think I must have done something right, Darling. Is this your spot?” He curled his fingers up inside of me, and by all that’s beautiful, he really did find it.

“It would be so disappointing to have him go through all this trouble and not getting anything in return. After all, you need him to find that mystery girl of yours. So, come on… just say the word, and I’ll let you have exactly what you want.

“F… Fine!” I yelped, “Give it!”

“Oh my,” Baker said. He lifted himself off of the bed with a graceful twirl, standing tall over me. “If you’re that eager for the next part, Darling, I won’t hesitate. Besides, you need a male’s touch to make an egg, right? There’s only one thing for that, isn’t there?”

He ran his hands down over his own body, pinching at his hip. There, imperceptible except by the most masterful of eyes, was a tiny switch. Once flipped, a nearly invisible hatch opened up between his legs. And from within that hatch sprung forth a long, segmented member, rigid and ready.

“Hot damn!” Zelb said, slapping my butt. “That’s a real surprise there, isn’t it?”

I crawled up to my knees, the nature of my pact forgotten while I held onto the shaft. “Amazing!” I chirped. “Masterwork. How made, who made?”

“Oh, Darling, are you looking for my story now?” he said, scratching behind my horns. I chirped and nuzzled against him. “Well, if you can listen while we work, I’ll be happy to tell you.”

Though I call myself “Baker,” that was not my original name. Truth be told, Darling, I never really had a name when I was first made. As you can see, I wasn’t built for any sort of cuisine. Like other constructs, I was crafted by the construct smiths of Anteronia, and while they are renowned for their life-like creations, there is a rather specific, perhaps crude, reason for our superhuman articulation.

The smiths who made me imbued me with magical knowledge making me as competent as I was needed for the jobs I was to do. My prime directive was knowledge of beauty--artistry and fashion, most specifically. I was made for the Aldevan family, the forefront creators of style and costuming in the region.

All this, I knew the moment my senses first activated. What I wasn’t so sure about was why the old man who stood before me gave me that first initial hug. Perhaps it was because he wanted to test the skills he gave me, but it felt so beautiful to have a warm body up against my own, Darling. I wrapped my arms around his quivering form, patting his back to comfort him.

I only ever saw the old man that moment, for right after, the agents of my mistress came to get me. I explored the city, already a place I knew by my programming, but when I saw it for the first time when I heard the crowds, and when I felt the warmth of the sun, it was a totally different experience than anything I had come to understand. I understood those things, Darling, but I didn’t ‘know’ them. If you can get what I mean.

Immediately, I was thrust onto the wardrobes of the Aldevan estate, joining thin bodies who eyed me with disdain. Even as I slipped into the suits and dresses given to me by the director, I knew they hated me. They felt I was there to take away their own jobs.

The crowd clamored to see me pose in various outfits, all of them designed by the family and their associates, but the stage was too hot, and the people didn’t see me, they only saw the outfits that I wore.

Once the show was over, and I had removed myself from the last of the outfits, that’s when I first met my mistress. She’s a wonderful woman, beautiful and wise. She had seen many summers, but all of them had only heightened her beauty. I didn’t know how to describe the feelings I felt then, but when she took my hand, I followed, and I obeyed.