Having Your Cake and Eating it Too

It was late at night when Dennis reached the "haunted" mansion. The occultist zipped up his jacket, giving a shudder. It was cold and he could see his breath. Bringing a cigarette up to his mouth, Dennis took a long drag and tossed it onto the moist ground.  Exhaling the acrid smoke, he casually crushed the smoldering butt.

 

With a flashlight in his hands, Dennis shined it all over the entrance to the mansion.  It was two stories, and the front of the mansion was covered with three marble pillars, long overgrown with ivy and moss. The steps leading up to the decrepit home were worn and covered in leaves. Making sure not to trip, Dennis approached the door.

 

The door was an old thing, wooden. The paint was cracked and flaking off in several portions. The wood was swollen and Dennis frowned when he saw that. That meant for sure the door would be stuck. He'd know. He'd been to at least a dozen haunted houses already.

 

Dennis tried to open the door, but failed. It's not that it was locked, far from it. Stuck, that was the problem.  Dennis turned around sighed. He would go back to his car and get the crowbar. Better than using a brick to break a window.

 

Dennis didn't even take three steps when the door creaked open. A shudder went down his spine. Something here was amiss. But...that was his job, wasn't it? This county was notorious for how many missing person reports they filed. And it was widely believed that the mansion was haunted.  Fear and superstition kept the townsfolk from ever checking, though. Taking a deep breath, he entered the mansion.

 

Dennis shined his flashlight at the mansion's lobby. It looked surprisingly clean. The air was fresh. It wasn't musty at all. Wasn't this place supposed to be haunted?

 

CCCCCCRRRRRRRREEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAKKKKKK

 

The door behind him slammed shut and Dennis rolled his eyes. How typical! There was probably a backdoor, though. For now the occultist looked for a light switch. The mansion probably had a couple of squatters in it, which is why it was cleaner than usual. Dennis resolved to not step on any crack pipes. Now where was that light?

 

Aha! Giving the light switch a flick, the chandelier in the lobby flickered a few times, before fully lighting up. In most of these abandoned homes, there was typically debris. Or a mattress.  In here though, there wasn't a speck of dust on the checker-board pattern tiles. This place was...immaculate.

 

There was a large staircase that led to the second story. To his left was a long hallway, and he could see the distant outline of a pool table in a room to his right.  Where to go. Where to go. Following his instincts, Dennis moved forward. The mansion was completely silent except for the sounds of his footsteps click-clacking against the tiles. In no time at all, he found himself in a dining room.

 

The occultist shuddered. It was cold here. So very cold. Dennis placed his flashlight on the dining room table for a second, while he pulled up his hood and rubbed his hands together. There was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. There was bad energy here.

 

Turning on the light to the dining room, Dennis felt his heart skip a beat. "Ehh hee hee...". Was that laughter?

 

"If there is a ghost here, make yourself known! I demand it!" Dennis stood resolute, crossing his arms.  But nothing challenged his daring command.  Dennis took a deep breath and rubbed his temples. As soon as he'd find the back door to this mansion, he'd leave and return to the morning.

 

Dennis pushed himself through a double-door that led to the kitchen. Pots, pans and other cooking ingredients were neatly organized. There were several large refrigerators, and a huge industrial oven.  Dennis shivered as he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. The energy in here was even worse than before. It almost made him feel sick. But the back door, there it was! Hastening his step, Dennis briskly walked towards his salvation, before getting on his knees and coughing.

 

He was right beside a refrigerator, but he was also two feet away from the door. This was the nexus of the spiritual energy in the mansion, of this he was certain. Curiosity won over common sense as he opened the fridge, and laughed.

 

A cake! It was just a stupid cake! The fridge was completely empty besides a gorgeous pink cake, sitting all along in the refrigerator. And it smelled...delicious. Somehow, the cooling was still working. And it didn't seem stale or moldy at all. It's scent was a sickly sugary sweet, making his mouth water. All of this worry over a stupid cake? Ha! Stupid locals!

 

The occultist grabbed the cake with both hands and placed it on a nearby counter. Rifling through some drawers, he quickly finds a cake knife. And some more rummaging found him a plate. Dennis cut himself a thin slice, before putting the cake back in the fridge. After he was done with this slice, he'd leave.

 

Taking the cake with him to the dining room, Dennis didn't even bother with a fork or spoon. He just dug in with his hands. And it was good. So. Very. Good. The best cake he had ever had in his entire life. It was sweet and delicious, moist and satisfying. He couldn't remember the last time he ever ate something that good. Picking at a raspberry left behind on the plate, he plopped it into his mouth and sighed. So good. He was content.

 

Dennis pulled out a cigarette from his pocket and quickly lit it, taking a few good puffs. Everything was perfectly fine. Perfectly fine.

 

"Excuse me, but shouldn't you put that out? Smoking is SUCH a disgusting habit," purred a disembodied voice.

 

"Oh yeah, sorry I...hey, wait a minute, what's going !?" Dennis rose up from his chair and looked around. Something just spoke to him!

 

"Come on dear, put out that cigarette." The voice was sweet, but there was a power behind it. Just hearing it made shivers run down Dennis' spine.

 

Dennis placed his hands over his eyes for a moment, rubbing them. Amazing. A ghost had never spoken to him before. When he opened his eyes again, he gave a cry and dropped his cigarette.  The spirit had manifested.

 

"Oh, that's much better.~ How considerate of you. I think you should have another slice of cake..."

 

Dennis backed up against the wall to the kitchen. "No! No! Oh my God, what are you?" Dennis' face was as pale as chalk.

 

The spirit smiled. It was a wide grin, unnaturally so. Her teeth were a pearly white. "I am. But you may call me Margaret, dear."

 

Dennis slumped against the wall, taking a good look at the monster standing in front of him. It was seven  feet tall, with a curvy, voluptuous figure. Undeniably female. And it seemed entirely made of cake. Sweet, delicious cake. Pink icing was laboriously stylized to look like fur, a stunning design. Decadently delicious pale pink icing covered her eyes(did she even have any?). The "hair" icing was elaborately styled to look huge and curly, so feminine and sweet. Two dainty fox ears poked through her lush mane.  Beneath a very small and stylized snout was a huge mouth, with large and puffy dark pink lips. Swishing behind Margaret was a large, fluffy tail made of cake.

 

Her stomach and chest were a paler pink, just like her "hair". Her breasts were large and stylized. Even in his panicked state, Dennis wondered how they tasted...

 

"Please don't be afraid," cooed Margaret. She slowly approached Dennis, grinning from ear to ear. "I just want to speak to you..."

 

Dennis cold feel the sweat pouring down his back. "Puh-puh-lease..."

 

"Shh...shh," said Margaret. She pushed her paw towards Dennis' face.

 

"N-no!" But when Dennis took one whiff of the rich confection, he couldn't help but take one little bite. The cake from before smelled amazing, but Margaret's cake-paw was irresistible. It was perfect. He could feel himself drooling in anticipation of another bite.

 

Margaret leaned forward grabbed Dennis by the arms, softly easing up. "You and I are going to have a nice talk," said Margaret. Even though she was made entirely of cake, Dennis' clothes remained unstained.

 

Dennis opened his mouth in protest, but Margaret placed a digit in his mouth, stifling any idea of resistance. Dennis' eyes rolled back in pleasure.

 

"Now you sit....here," Margaret propped Dennis back into his chair,  while she took the chair right beside him. "While I sit...here!" Giggling, Margaret bent down and planted a sweet, sticky kiss on Dennis' cheek. She quickly cut him another slice of cake and smiled, leaning forward.

 

"Uhhh...thanks, I guess". A part of Dennis just wanted to get the hell out of there. But that creature hasn't done anything to harm him yet. So what harm could another little slice do him? He began eating the cake with his hands when Margaret began to frown.

 

*ahem*

 

"What, what is it?" Dennis looked warily at the cake-creature.

 

"Don't you think it's impolite to eat with your hands?"

 

"I don't have a fork! What am I supposed to do?" Dennis put down his cake and wiped his hands on a napkin.

 

"Don't worry about it dear, have a fork!" Waving her hands, a fork appeared in the vixen's hands. Sterling silver.

 

Dennis looked incredulously at the conjured utensil. Well, better not look a gift horse in the mouth, right? He leaned forward and took a couple of more bites, before Margaret began coughing some more.

 

*ahem*

 

"Ugh, what is it now? I'm eating," said Dennis.

 

"My dear, your elbows are on the table. Would you kindly take them off?"

 

"OK. OK. Fine, geez, you don't need to lecture me, you know. It's not like you're my mother or..." The occultist looked up in surprise.

 

"Ahaha! Ohoho!" Margaret brought a paw up to her mouth. Her giggles were as sweet as the cake he was eating. "Oh, oh don't mind me. I was just thinking of something funny."

 

Dennis shrugged. Whatever. This cake was too good for him to even care. He was entirely focused on his cake.  

 

A few more bites, and he was done. Nothing but a few paltry crumbs left. Dennis was absolutely content. Well, except for one thing. "I sure could go for a glass of milk right now," said Dennis.

 

"Oh? And what do we say? Hmm?" Margaret placed her elbows on her thighs, paws under chin. The vixen smiled a huge grin.

 

"What? Oh..uh...please?" Dennis found himself surprised. He never expected a spirit would be so accommodating. Or obsessed with etiquette. But she made good on her deal and manifested a cool glass of milk. Dennis chugged it out as fast as he could, letting out a large burp. "Excuse me," said Dennis.

 

"Oh, that's so wonderful, dear! I'm so proud of you!" Margaret wrapped an arm around Dennis and bent down, planting another sweet kiss.  The occultist smiled at Margaret. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

 

"We never had our talk, dear. Won't you humor me? What's your name?" She tried to touch his face, but Dennis calmly pushed it away.

 

"I'm Rusty." Dennis folded his arms.

 

"Oh my, how droll! I suppose you take me for a fool?" Margaret pushed her paw towards his face, rubbing it all over his cheeks and chin. Dennis felt a hunger grow in his stomach, and he began biting her hand. That cake was wonderful! After several good bites, Margaret smiled. She drew back her paw and waved it, restoring the cake lost from his snack.

 

"What's your name, dear? Come on....," said Margaret. The spirit put her hands on her hips.

 

"It's Dennis," said the eponymous occultist.

 

"Oh, I think you and are going to get along famously! Would you mind if I asked you a few more questions?"

 

"I guess," sighed Dennis. If she wanted to kill or hurt him, wouldn't she have done it already? What harm could a few more questions do?

 

Margaret cupped Dennis' chin and smiled. "How old are you?"

 

"29"

 

"What do you do for a living?"

 

"I'm an occultist." Dennis wanted to swat away her paw, but couldn't bring himself to do so. Her paw was moist and sticky. Sticking out his tongue, he began to lick at her hand.

 

"Oh, that is so wonderful, Dennis! I noticed the moment you came here that you were special! You soul is so wonderful to look at. But..."

 

"B-but what? What are you making at?" Dennis felt a chill run through his spine as he could literally feel the spirit gaze at his soul.

 

"You're lonely, aren't you? I can sense it," said Margaret. She moved closer to Dennis.

 

"What! I'm not lonely, I'm....!" Dennis was rudely interrupted as Margaret kissed him, this time on the lips. Her large, slick lips left a rich coating of icing that he eagerly licked away.

 

"I-I am!" Dennis felt a tear streak down his face.

 

"Shh, Dennis, shh." Margaret kissed him on the forehead. "So am I, my dear. Would you like to never feel lonely again?"

 

Dennis was in a haze of pink and purple sweetness. He felt confused, very confused. But he knew one thing. Margaret knew what was best for him. "Yes!"

 

"Then follow me," whispered Margaret. She grabbed Dennis by the hand and took him to the kitchen. Dennis felt heavy and languid for the entire short walk. Once there, Margaret began to strip Dennis, down to nothing. Each time Dennis protested, she'd either kiss him, or give him a bite of her delicious cake body.

 

When he was buck naked, she guided him to a large metal bowl, one that he fit in perfectly. Dennis offered no resistance as she plopped him against the cold stainless steal.

 

"Here Dennis, eat up!" Margaret grabbed her leg and tore it off, giving it to Dennis. Her own own leg regenerated immediately. "Come on, eat!"  Dennis needed very little encouragement at this point. He scarfed down the leg. Wonderful, absolutely wonderful! Dennis ate and ate and ate. All he could focus on was the simple act of consumption.

 

As he gorged himself on her pink, sweet limb, one of his legs began melting. You'd have to either be an idiot, or under some sort of compulsion to ignore that. Each bite, a little bit more melting. It was a painless process,  but truly bizarre . As Dennis ate more and more, a dark brown puddle was forming underneath him. It smelled delicious. And it was batter! It was thin, but that would surely be remedied!

 

When he finished the leg, his head began to tilt downwards, until Margaret stuffed another leg into his mouth. He couldn't notice, not yet. "Mmmmppphhh!" Dennis groaned in pleasure. No matter how much cake he ate, he didn't feel full.

 

With both of his legs gone, Dennis was just a torso lying on his back, awash in batter.  Margaret Offered Dennis a "hand", and plopped an entire arm onto his chest. And he scarfed that down too. With only one arm, Dennis found it challenging to eat the last limb. But he persevered, despite increasingly difficult circumstances.

 

With only a head and a torso left, Margaret giggled at Dennis. He was coming along quite nicely. She couldn't wait to see the final product. Tearing off her own head, she bent down in the bowl, decapitated body holding the head for Margaret. She laughed as the insatiable man completely devoured her head. Waving both hands over her headless body, a new one quickly appears.  Dennis was no where near as lucky. He didn't even have a head anymore. Or a body.

 

"How do you feel, darling?" Margaret looked on in amusement as the batter began to shift, forming the very faint outline of a face, with a small mouth. Dennis felt so very disoriented.

 

"What.............are..........you..........doing.........to........me?" Each word was laborious for Dennis. A bubble would form in the batter and pop, releasing the words.

 

"My dear, I'm going to make sure you're never lonely again!" Dennis shuddered as two dozen eggs hit his batter. And then 3 gallons of milk. "You're going to be delicious by the time I'm done with you!" Margaret's smile was enormous as she poured bag, after bag, after bag of sugar into Dennis. The sugar made him feel light and happy.

 

"Ha.......ha........ha.......ha!"  Perhaps whatever Margaret was doing to him wouldn't be so bad after all.

 

Margaret began laughing with him as she pulled out a huge whisk and began beating the ingredients together. More dizziness and confusion welled up inside Dennis. Dennis was still there, but he was spread out across the entire bowl. Before, the mixture had been 100% Dennis. But now, there were foreign elements. Things that weren't him. And thinking felt very, very slow.

 

Seizing the entire bowl, she poured it into a tin. The tin was shaped(unsurprisingly) in the shape of a well-endowed humanoid vixen. Batter flowed from the bowl and it was a perfect fit. Whistling to herself, Margaret casually shoved the tin into the industrial oven(that she had pre-heated).

 

As he roasted in the oven, Dennis began to gurgle. He had thought that being dumped into an industrial oven would be painful. Instead, its roasting fire was soothing. Over the course of an hour, his body began to take shape and cooked to an adorable golden brown.

 

Having cake for a body certainly made for an interesting experience. No heartbeat in your chest. No drawing of breath. You just are. And no brain, either!  As the sweet sugar was cooked into his body, he began giggling. His voice was becoming high and clear, cuter than his mother's....err Margaret. New knowledge began flowing into his head. Cooking, cleaning, embroidery, magic, poetry, singing and dancing. Everything a proper daughter needed to know. But Dennis was still there. And he loved it. Mother would be so proud to see him right now! She couldn't wait to show her.

 

When Margaret pulled out the tin, she poked the cake. Cooked to perfection! A lovely golden brown, with two impressive mounds on her chest. There was nothing on her daughter's body to suggest she had ever been a man. Or human. Or animate.

 

"Sophie, what do you think?" Margaret extended a paw and helped her daughter out of the tin. The newly minted vixen immediately ran over to her mother  and smiled. "Mother, mother! Am I beautiful now?"

 

"Not yet darling, you are far from complete!" Opening the fridge, she pulls out a huge tub of mauve icing. "Get in, Sophie."

 

"Oh of course mother. Whatever you say." Submerging herself in the tub, Sophie let the smell of lavender assault her nostrils, as her mother began rubbing it onto her cake body.

 

"Mauve is such a beautiful color, don't you agree?" Kissing her daughter on the forehead, Margaret dunked it several times in the icing, giving it a thick coating.

 

Sophie licked the icing around her mouth and smiled. "Indeed, mother! It's ever-so beautiful!"

 

"I know. Only the best for you, my precious, beautiful, daughter."

 

"Mother...I love you."

 

"I love you too, dear."

 

With Sophie entirely coated, Margaret gently eased her out of the tub.  The elder vixen pulled out a trowel and began removing the excess icing, heaping it into a pile. Sophie couldn't help but giggle as mother did so. She was ever-so ticklish!

 

Sophie's new body was almost as shapely as her mother's. The mauve coating was slightly darker on her chest, while her mother sculpted her a thick and luscious pair of dark purple lips. Whistling to herself, Margaret gave her daughter a beautiful, bushy fox tail. The tip was a darker purple.

 

Legs were shapely and long, ending off in cute paws. Her arms were immaculately sculpted,full of texture and detail. Her hands were slightly paw-shaped, but had thumbs.

 

With her body taken care of, Margaret began piling the excess icing on Sophie's head, giving her a wonderful head of icing-hair, stretching all the way to her ankles. Smoothing the hair all over her eyes, she smiled. Like mother, like daughter. As a final embellishment, Margaret began styling the icing, giving her daughter the appearance of big, curly, hair.

 

Margaret kissed her daughter on the cheek. "Sophie, you're complete! Take a look at yourself!"

 

She was shorter than Margaret by about half a foot, putting her at 6'5. Even though her eyes were completely covered by icing, she could see perfectly fine (logic and reason goes out the window when it comes to cake-girls).

 

"Thank you, mother! Thank you!"  Sophie gave Margaret a huge hug, nuzzling her cheeks against her mother's large chest.

 

Margaret smiled and licked her daughter on the cheek, savoring her sickly sweet taste. "Darling, you taste spectacular."

 

Sophie licked at her mother's breast before biting down. "Not as much as you! You're utterly irresistible!"

 

Margaret laughed, regenerating her body. "Sophie, don't worry! You have plenty of time ahead of you, to get to where I am now." She hugged her daughter more tightly and stroked one of vixen ears.

 

Their blissful cuddling and soft kissing was interrupted by a sound of a window breaking. Sophie smiled fiendishly at Margaret. "Mother, may I have a sister?"

 

Margaret laughed into her hands. "Oh Sophie, I spoil you, don't I? Very well, go make the sister of your dreams. But just this once!"

 

"Oh mother, you're wonderful! Thank you ever-so much!" Sophie bounded out of the kitchen, ready to put her new magical powers to good use.