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Overall, it's not so bad a day for the dark sorceress, but her stomach growls as she walks along the sidewalk. She pats it tenderly, sighing. “Soon, very soon, I shall have my fill.” She says this, licking her lips, a wonderful treat surely ready for her.

As she makes it onto the street, that is when the wafting smells of coffee and sweet treats make their way to her nose, and before her, just across the street from the Statuary Park, is the object of her desire—a quaint little shop nestled in an old building, with people sitting outside, supping and snacking on all sorts of delectable goods.

“I’ve finally found you,” says the sorceress, stepping up to the doorway, her hands outstretched. “The greatest Bakery in the land!!”

The door opens, and a cloud of sugar and spice billows out from within. Standing on the threshold is the owner, Baker, his arms crossed over his chest, his sugary eye fluttering. “So, Zozafina, darling… You ready for your appointment?”

Zozafina chuckles and steps forward, face-to-face with the pastry chef. “More than ready, you sweet son of a bitch.”

—-

In the back room of Baker’s Bakery, Zozafina sits on a soft and comfortable chair, crossing one leg over the other and sipping a sweet tea prepared by the pastry chef.

Sitting across from her is Baker himself. Before them is a table set with various decadent sweets, and at the center is a cloche. The femboy gestures to the cover and tells his guest, “Whenever you are ready to begin, let me know. I hope the presentation is to your liking.”

“Oh, it’d better be,” Zozafina responds, placing the drink down and licking her lips. “I paid good money for the experience.

She slips her hand to the cover and nods at him.

Baker sits back, sighs, and closes his eyes. A moment later, his body collapses against the seat like a lifeless puppet.

The darkness of transportation is replaced with a great light as he looks upward, seeing the cloche removed and the now massive woman sitting before him. He stands up in a miniature recreation of the chamber, complete with minuscule versions of the treats he had prepared for his guest.

“My, my,” Zozafina’s voice rumbles. “I heard that your ability to switch bodies was superb, but this is amazing beyond compare.”

Baker places a hand on his chest and nods, taking off his tiny toque. “It is a pleasure to delight the eyes, nose, and tongue.”

“And the ears, too. You sound simply adorable,” she says.

“What shall I do for you now, miss Zozafina, to continue the cuteness?”

“I wonder,” the dark elf says, bringing her hand over to a pitcher, pouring from it cold and referring milk into a small glass. “Do you have time for a bath?”

The baker giggles, unbuttoning his coat. “But of course,” he says, stepping forward and tossing off the jacket, showing off his chest peppered with glittering sugar. He shimmies out of his pants and undoes his shoes, leaving them strewn aside on the miniature room and climbing onto the edge of the glass, sitting with his legs dangling over the outer side.

Zozafina lifts the drink, the white and foamy substance sloshing about in the vessel. She slides her finger along the edge, pressing against his side and slipping up and down.

Giggling, he shifts and puts one leg over the edge, dipping into the milk and flicking his hair back. “I hope you enjoy a little chocolate milk,” he says, fluttering his eyes.

“Oh, indeed,” she responds, bringing him close to her face.

He slips inside, submerging in the drink and then springing out of it, gasping and running his hands through his candy hair. Already, some of it begins to dissolve.

Zozafina gasps.

“Oh, don’t worry, honey,” he assures her, even as rings of brown reverberate from around him, “I won’t dissolve entirely until you’re done with me.”

“I’d rather not waste yourself on just the drink,” the sorceress sighs, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a gentle sip. “Aah…”

He swims up to the edge beside her lips, holding onto the side. “Do you enjoy it? It’s quite exotic, taken from Blair Garten’s farm.”

Sitting back, Zozafina swirls the drink. This causes Baker to fall from the edge and flail around in the new whirlpool that formed. “Ah, yes, so many people from the Tournament have made connections. It’s quite a change in the world when the gods interfere with mortal affairs.”

Clinging onto the opposite edge, Baker wipes some milk from his eyes and says, “If you want more sweetness and something you aren’t familiar with, try the honey from my very own employees. It doesn’t get fresher than that!”

Zozafina pinches the honey dipper between two fingers, pulling it up from the small pot. The amber liquid drizzles into a sumptuous slime as she lifts it from the container. She lets the delicate delight drip from its holder, waving over the milk like a magic wand. She lets it draw out swishing sways of motion, slipping through and up to the femboy, drenching it over his head.

Baker squeaks and pulls himself from the edge, wiping the honey from his eyes, giggling as it slides over his cheeks and shoulders. “Hey, aren’t I sweet enough?”

“Oh, I’m sure,” responds Zozafina, but she brings the drained dipper to her lips, wrapping those plump things around it and popping the head inside. She sucks it like a lollipop and pulls it out, revealing that she has cleaned the whole thing with her tongue. “But I like to torture my victims before I play with them.”

He leans back against the rim of the cup, giggling slightly as he drapes his arms over the edge, floating to his nipples. “Well, torture this body all you want, you fiend. I’ll be fine and dandy after the fact.”

“Oh, I know,” Zozafina says, licking her lips. “But sometimes I need someone willing to sacrifice for my sin.”

“Willing and ready, oh newest dark queen. Make it as slow or as quick as you desire.”

She glances up toward the life-size version of the Baker for a moment, that inanimate form so uncanny.

“And once I transfer, I’ll give you whatever you want with that body, too,” the chocolate man says, winking. Now, hurry up, my dear, before I melt away.”