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Perturbed by Brownie's sudden change in demeanor, Baker folds his arms over his chest and crosses a leg over the other. "And just what exactly do you mean by that? Aside from an unthinking, uncaring machine, who exactly do you think I am?"

Brownie bites her lip, leaning back on the bed, their arbiter completely enjoying her own post-coital delight as the two bakers square off. "Oh, Nothing much, but just a single-focused self-indulgent thing, programmed entirely to do one thing and one thing only. If you leave now, you prove it."

His lips quiver, and he crawls up to her, narrowing his eyes. "What exactly are you hoping to accomplish by egging me on toward this single-minded focus?"

Brownie presses her toes to his chest as he approaches her, tilting her head. "I just want to see if I'm right, is all. I need to understand my enemy if I'm to overcome him."

"I have no desire to be your enemy."

She slinks her foot up, toes touching his lip. "Oh yeah? Then why do you keep coming back for more? Why do you keep talking to me?"

He grabs her by the ankle, narrowing his gaze. "I… don't know."

"I'm manipulating your parameters," she says, wiggling her toes.

He pulls her, making her slide closer to him, falling on the mattress, her arms above her head. He leans down over her, hair brushing over her cheek. "And if you push me so far, manipulate me so much, then what happens?"

"Then," she says, "You realize you have no free will and will lose this battle sooner or later. You've got a short menu, Baker. You couldn't leave the sexy life if you wanted to." She says, parting her lips slightly. "No matter what you try, you can't deny yourself that you were made to be your mistress's fuck puppet, and no matter what you say you like about yourself, that's all you'll ever be."

He frowns, his lips so close to hers, but he doesn't say anything. The thought races through him, considering all his life choices ever since he had that very first idea to strike out on his own and disobey his original mistress, his owner. He smacks his lips and says, in a weak voice. "She's dead."

"But she'll never leave you—not really."

He grabs Brownie by the back of her head, pressing his forehead to hers. "Know this, darling," he says, in a gruffer voice than he ever put on before passing to her, "I am my own man, and I will show you I am more than capable of making my own decisions. I'll make you see."

"More than I make you see right now?" she says, slipping her knee up between his legs, pressing against his candy cock.

He winces.

Her eyes sparkle as she rubs her thigh against that length. "You see, Baker? You're all about giving others what they want, even if that's giving me a good rival."

Baker bites his lip, scanning her momentarily before lowering his lips toward hers.

Brownie presses her body up against his, the lips mingling together in a wild dance of delight before pulling back, saliva and syrup stringing together.

"I hate you…" Baker huffs.

"Good," responds Brownie before the two return to their kiss.

She pushes against him, rolling the two to the side, where arms and legs intermingle and entwine, hands through hair, legs against legs, filling the room with their sighs and their moans.

Meanwhile, their arbiter picks herself up, rubbing her eyes and yawning. She blinks and rubs them again, shaking her head when she finally gets through the blur. "So, I take it the two of you have agreed?"

Brownie pulls Baker free from her face, huffing and gulping for air. "Fuck no!" she growls, gripping her fingers into his shoulders. "I've not yet begun to, aah!"

Baker slips up to her neck and pecks her skin with little kisses before he growls into her ear. "Oh, but if you get rid of that frivolous lawsuit, we can settle our disputes in other arenas."

She murmurs, swirling a finger through his cotton hair. "You know what? That just might be fun. You've got yourself a deal. From now on… we settle our differences together!"

"Mmm… I look forward to humiliating you, Darling…" Baker coos.

—

Early in the morning, Libi removes loaves of bread from the oven and replaces them. She yawns and double-checks the schedule, grumbling at the others' lack of help, but they aren't scheduled… Baker is.

The night shift had put the Mannequin back in the kitchen, and it stands there, a monument to their boss’s silence.

Libi shuffles past the old mannequin, and just as she resigns herself to continue with her work, the thing shudders to life.

"Where the hell were you?" Libi asks.

Baker wipes the nonexistent sweat from his brow and glances over the room. "Oh, Libi. I'm glad you're here. You wouldn't believe the day I had!"

"You going to tell me all about it?" Inquires the employee.

"Oh, ho ho, Darling, no," he pats her on the head and adjusts his toque. "We have so much more work to do before the rest of the crew shows up."

"All of the crew?"

"Oh, yes," says Baker, picking up the schedule sheet and flipping through it. "After all, we have a big competition waiting."

"What? When? How long is it?"

With a chuckle, he raises the schedule again and huskily says, "Until one business is left standing."