Lerato wipes her forehead with an oil-stained cloth, standing over the halfway mangled mess of machinery, sitting on a heap on the floor of her workshop. The Dik-Dik sighs and collapses on her chair by her workbench, swiping up her comically large jug of water. Large mechanical gloves grip the life-giving liquid dispenser as she dumps the fluid over her head and opens her mouth wide, missing most of the time but gulping down a few mouthfuls of the precious fuel.
“Hitting a particularly stubborn roadblock, deer?” asks a meek voice, accompanied by the gentle clopping of hooves upon the hard floor.
Lerato sighs and spins around in her chair, resting her arms on the back and her chin upon her arms. “A roadblock is nothing. I could punch it out or build a device to clear the path. However, it’s more like I need to develop an entirely new road.
Her doting husband approaches the robot, one hand behind his back, another scratching at his chin. “Hm, yes, this isn’t an issue with magical armaments. Otherwise, I’d be able to help you out quite well. If only we knew someone who knew some fellow artificers?” He asks this, quirking an eyebrow in her general direction.
“No, no, no,” Lerato says, leaning back, resting her head upon her desk. “I gotta do this one myself. I can’t let anyone else take the credit.”
A moment’s pause between the two ends with her sitting back up and squeaking, “Except you, babe!”
“Well, that certainly goes without saying,” he notes, patting the machine. “The fact you feel you need to say such things means you’re quite out of it. Might I suggest a means of relaxing?”
Lerato smirks, staring up at the ceiling. “Oh, but hubby, I’m so sweaty and dirty. Are you sure you want to help me relax like this?”
He approaches her, leaning over her face, staring eye-to-eye with her, and shaking his head. “Would you prefer such vulgarity over something a bit more refined?”
She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
Between his hooves, Lovemore holds up a parchment. “Observe.”
Lerato snatches it between two mechanical fingers and reads over the details, immediately sitting up again. “You… you ordered me this? It’s super expensive!” she whirls around, standing up, grabbing his robes by the collar, and pulling him in, forehead-to-forehead. “You’d better not have used our  special funds for this.”
“Perish the thought, my love,” Lovemore says, detaining himself with his hands up, clicking his hooves together. “I have been saving up, little by little, and that last job we pulled got me just enough.”
She frowned and looked at the slip again. “You could have funded your research expedition with that money.”
“I know.”
“You could have enchanted a sword!”
“Indeed.”
“You could have done absolutely anything for yourself.”
“Deer,” Lovemore says, clasping a hand in his hooves. “Seeing you happy is the best treat I could buy myself.”
She smirks, flashing the paper toward him. “And besides, I'm sure you’ll also get to share in the delights.”
“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to handle everything alone,” he admits.
“I’m going to try,” she responds, pressing her snout against his.
He chuckles softly, rubbing his cheek up against hers. “You’re so sweaty!”
“Of course I am, you silly boy!” she returns, nuzzling against him, smearing her happy dik-dik tears over his face.
He tilts his neck, sighing gently as he holds onto his wife. He allows her to lean in, pacing kisses on his neck, following that up with the marking of his fur with her tears.
“You’re such a wonderful husband!” she pecks and peppers those words as she kisses over his neck, gently sucking with each kiss, being sure to mark him under his fur in more ways than one.
“O-only for the best wife!” he mewls back, his gasping getting louder with each kiss she gives.
Mechanical hands slip down his tight outfit, brushing over his fur, reaching down, cupping at his butt. “Mmm, maybe I could have some good inspiration for something here and now?”
“Okay, okay, that’s good, that’s good!” he giggles, squirming out of the robotic grasp. “You really need to clean up if we’re going to make it to the restaurant.”
“Mm, fine, fine, but if we’re going to make it in time, we’ll have to go together.” She says, forehead upon his.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way, my love,” he says, bouncing on his hooves. “But remember, we’re just going in there to clean. We don’t want to be late for the reservation.”
“Oh, you sneaky devil, amping me up and denying me. I’ll get you back, you know.”
“Oh, will you now?”
Biting her lip, she lifts her hubby up in her mechanically-assisted grasp, her shoulders straining but handling his weight as he holds onto her bridal style. “Alright, little guy, we’re going to have a night on the town!” She leans into his ear and whispers, ‘Because if it’s as good as you say it is, I’ll reward you with the best fucking’ you’ve ever had, my beloved.”
He smirked and pecked her cheeks, draping his arms over her shoulders. “And you’re going to have a gift to remember.”
She holds him close, lifting one hand and stroking his cheek. She then locks lips with him and sighs, the two of them embracing and kissing as they head out of their workshop, eager and ready for their trip to the city-renowned cafe, Baker’s Bakery.

Baker’s Bakery is a deceptively small shop sitting just across the park from Anteronia’s Statue Park. There, the people on their morning commute are tempted by the wafting scents of freshly baked goods and treats and the addicting bitterness of coffee, and while the place serves as a mostly casual experience in the morning, the mood changes as the evening rolls around.
Lovemore steps out of the carriage, adjusting his glasses and checking the laces of his casual evening gown, which covers his neck and leaves his arms free. He holds out a hoof and bows gently, taking the mechanical hand of his beloved.
Lerato steps out, her hooves clopping over the pavement. She wears something with a plunging neckline and tiny straps, exposing to the world the powerful neck and shoulders of one used to working with heavy tools.
“So, tell me, hubby bear, how much did this cost again?” She asks, entering the building with his hand and hoof.
“Less than you think,” replies their fawning friend, squeezing his cloven digits against her glove’s mechanical fingers.
“But more than I’d want to know?” she responds, smirking.
The doors to the establishment open, held in their position by three buzzing bees dressed in the pink uniforms of the establishments.
“Welcome, welcome!” says one.
“Please enjoy your stay,” chirps the second.
“And be sure to let us know if you need anything.”
As the two pass into the main establishment, the front of the house is relatively empty, with only the clinking of dishes to be heard in the back and the wafting of scents to join them.
“Pretty empty for a famous establishment, don’t you think?” asks Lerato.
Through a doorstep, the graceful figure of the shop’s proprietor, Baker, flutters one visible eye past the long locks covering half his face. This evening, his competition is cakey, with dots of different colors sprinkling throughout, making him look quite freckled in deliberate but natural ways.
“Why, hello, sweet things,” says the proprietor in a breathy voice, getting down on one knee to be eye-level with the two, placing a hand upon his chest and another holding out toward the two. “Welcome, Mr. Lovemore, and this must be the dik-dik of the day, Dearest Lerato?”
“My wife, yes. She’s been working very hard on a project of hers and, well,” he leans in and whispers, loud enough to show the performance in it all. “It’s the anniversary of our first successful adventure together.”
Lerato blushes, clasping her gloves to her cheeks. “H-honey, you… what? It is, I…”
“Lost all track of time? It’s to be expected. I’ve always been the timekeeper of our party,” Lovemore says, pushing up his glasses and smirking smugly.
“Well, madam, you will not have to keep track of time here tonight,” says Baker, retracting his hand and then revealing it again. This time, a small cupcake graces his palm. “For tonight, you get everything you could want to indulge in.
Lerato pinches the tiny thing in her hand and examines it from the whispy frosting on top to the paper below. She squeezes the wrapping, pulling it apart. So perfectly presented is it that it peels away without taking a single crumb with it, leaving the cake itself an artistic mold of the crinkling of the wrapper.
She rolls out her tongue, pressing it to the frosting, and slowly flicks it off the cake, bringing the sugary swirl inside her mouth and swallowing.
“Fascinating,” says the baker.
“It’s delightful,” says Lerato, popping the rest of the tiny cupcake in her mouth. “Mmmm!”
Lovemore clasps his hooves together, tapping his foot hooves one after another. “Oh, do you love it, my deer?”
Lerato wraps her arms around herself, standing on one hoof and swaying back and forth. “Mmm, it’s so fruity and juicy, and the cake's fluffiness melts between each chew.” She gulps. “And what fruits are in that?”
“Oh, so many! Thanks to my good friend Tik Tik, I can access the Grand Caravan and all sorts of wondrous delights to make new creations!”
Lerato smirks, dragging her gloved thumb over her lip and sucking on the frosting left over there. “Oh, indeed? You’ll definitely have to tell me more about that.”
“Why don’t we continue our conversation in the delectables room? Your husband has purchased a lovely experience to enjoy as you see fit.” He stands up and motions to the door from whence he came.
“But,” the baker says, a glimmer in his eye as he speaks ot the lady dik-dik, “I must hear from your heart what it is you’re comfortable with.”
With a hand on her hip and a sassy sway, Lerato turns to Lovemore,” Oh, I see. Was my hubby trying to surprise me when I knew all about the Baker’s special?”
Lovemore kicks the ground, arms behind his back. “Maybe…?”
Baker squats before them, saying. “Well, there is one thing he said, and I wanted to make sure with both of you here that you were fine with it before we got into anything uncomfortable. He said you would be the queen this evening, and I would service you however you desire.”
She quirks a brow. “Lots of singular pronouns there, and what are you going to do?” she asks, turning toward Lovemore, hands on his shoulders.
“Ah, m-me? Well, the night is so expensive a-and I really couldn’t afford enough to indulge as well and…” he bites his lip. “I kinda was hoping to get some studying done out here.”
Lerato strokes her hubby’s cheek and leans in, giving him a kiss. “Aw, poor Lovemore. You needed a break from your hot wife riding your dick every night?”
He squeaks.
She pulls him in and whispers, “You just do whatever you want.”
“You know I will, lover,” he responds.
The two of them then embrace, kissing delightfully in the middle of the entryway.
“Well, I’ll go get myself ready for you, Madam. You two enjoy yourselves a little longer and come in when you’re ready.”

Once Baker leaves the two dik-diks alone with one another, Lerato pulls her mouth away from her husband and pecks him on the cheek. “Don’t get in trouble, now,” she says to him, slipping away and giving him a firm slap before she heads back to join Baker.
Lovemore yips, getting on the tips of his hooves, his lips quivering, his eyes tearing in delight. He turns to watch his wife leave him and smirks as he heads out. There’s so much work to do, after all…
Lerato enters the room of delicacies, admiring the rustic decor a bit. She sits upon a comfortable chair, giving her short form a bit more height as she sits, one leg crossed over the other, her gloved hands resting on the arms of the chair. It’s a plush thing, letting her sink in a little bit, and aside from it, there is a couch with a chase. Of course, the coffee table rests in the middle of the room, ready to be used.
Her ears flicker when she hears the rolling of wheels. The cervine lady watches as the doors open, revealing Baker rolling in a tray of treats, particularly an expensive-looking bottle of some vintage and a cake looking quite similar to the cupcake from earlier..
Instead of his uniform and hat, Baker wears a pink robe tied at the waist with the collar plunging down, revealing more of his fruit-freckled form.
“I do hope you’ve brought your sweet tooth, sugar,” he says, fluttering his visible eye at her.
“From what I understand,” she begins, touching her leg and stroking over her lip, “You have quite the mouth yourself.”
“If it comes to that,” says the baker. “Wine?”
“Oh, please.”
Baker uncorks the bottle, pours the drink, and hands it to the guest with all the practiced grace of a courtesan.
Lerato swirls the glass and sniffs the fruity drink but does not yet bring it to taste. “Tell me, how does a successful business owner decide to sell his body?”
He giggles at that. “Oh, none of these bodies are mine, dear. They are made specifically for the enjoyment of the client.”
“Yet, I had no input in how it looks.” She says this, leaning her cheek into one hand and swirling the glass in another.
“I designed it per your husband’s instructions,” he says, bowing gently, a hand up to his chest.
“Let’s see.”
The baker nods at this and reaches down, pulling at the sash at his waist. He rolls his slender shoulders, revealing his lithe form. Flecks of crumbs fall off as the robe falls to the floor, but his effeminate figure comes into full view, from the fruit-freckled cake skin of his chest down to the spongey cock hanging between his slight legs.
“Do you approve, Madam?”
“Madam improves, indeed.” She says, sipping the wine. She snaps her fingers and holds her hand, palm up. “Now, then, Madam demands cake.”
The feminine male nods and cuts a perfect sixteenth of the delicate treat, serving it on a plate with a golden fork. “For you, madam,” he says, lowering himself to one knee and presenting the snack.
Lerato takes the plate, and Baker takes the empty glass, placing it on the table, still remaining at her feet.
When the dik-dik cuts the fluffy exterior of the delight, she eyes the figure before her. “I’m no sadist,” she says. “I just enjoy being treated as a queen.” She places the cake on her tongue and gently chews, slowly savoring the sweetness of the berries. She shudders, kicking her legs against the front of the chair and rocking back and forth in delight.
Baker nods. “If you make no use of this body to indulge in more taboo desires, I can certainly use it to give you what you desire anyway. Just say the word, and it shall be yours.”
“A man of few morals, are you?” the dik-dik asks, cutting another piece. “What do you want out of arrangements like this.” She says, pressing the cake to her tongue and sighing.
Baker bites his lip, glancing upwards at her. “Only to know that my clients are enjoying themselves.”
She swallows slowly, sithing and patting her stomach, laying back. “Is that so? And do you have limits in how that works?” she asks, tapping her lips.
“Within reason.” He admits.
“I see,” the dik-dik says. “I wonder just how reasonable you can be.” She snickers, leaning back. “Now, what do you know about me, Mister Baker?”
“You are an engineer,” he says, gripping his knees.
“And that’s exactly why my hubby sent me here with you,” she says, her hand slipping down further than her stomach. “You’re a fascinating series of mechanisms and magic—a work of art and ingenuity.”
“I do what I can,” the baker says. “Is speaking of how I work what you desire?” He asks this, a pleading look in his eye.
She shakes her head. “No, not yet. I wanna see how you tick first,” she says. “Or rather, how about you show me how you lick.”
Lerato uncrosses her legs, sitting on the edge of the seat with her legs spread as wide as she can make them. She grips at the hem of her dress, pulling it up, revealing to the servant that underneath her outfit, she has nothing blocking the way between her fuzzy dik-dik pussy and the air between them.
“Now, be a good little boy toy and execute a delightful function, would you?”
Baker gulps, looking at her, his fingers digging into the cakey flesh of his knees. “Y-yes, madam,” he says before diving in.

Lovemore heads out of Baker’s Bakery, turning to the side of the building and disappearing into the alleyway beside it. Glancing over his shoulder, he reaches into this top and pulls a small wand. Approaching the side entrance to the building, he taps it with his wand until he hears a satisfying “click.”
“Bingo,” he chuckles, slipping his wand back in and slipping inside.
—
Baker bites his lip, watching the dik-dik lady sitting before him.
“Something the matter?” Lerato asks. “You built this body to serve me tonight, didn’t you?”
“Yes, darling,” he says, sighing, reaching up. His hands slip up along her calves, past her knees, and to her thighs. “Though, I would appreciate it if you didn’t speak to me as if I were a soulless machine.”
“I love machines,” Lerato says. “I spend most of my life around them, watching them, building them, unleashing their true potential.”
“Is that so?” he asks, kissing at her thigh. “That is most fascinating.”
“I would really love to know more about you,” she says, breathing gently quickening. “And not just use you to fuck me. I meant no offense.
He smiles and lifts one thigh, letting it rest on his shoulder. He kisses underneath it, slipping her dress up with his free hand as he does. “Mmm…”
She hooks her leg behind his head, her gloved hand stroking up and down her collar. “Do you like giving girls head, Baker?” she asks. “Seems like you do.”
He pulls his lips free from her fur, a soft breath against her thigh. “I like giving people the experiences of delight. Hearing your every breath, feeling your every movement. Tasting your desire, that is what I do.” He presses his lips to her labia, giving it a soft and quick kiss.
He continues, “Your husband must love you very much to not spend his money on me himself.”
She sinks into the seat a little, her head against the back. “Maybe we can, mmm, see, gather some more funds to let him have a ride.”
“You can enjoy more cake if you desire,” the baker says, slipping out his tongue. He presses it to the bottom of the lip and slowly drags it up along her.
“Ah… h…” she huffs, biting her lip and pushing her hips upward.
The Baker slips his hands underneath her, supporting her hips, her ass, pushing her closer to his face.
His nose squishes up against her clit, rubbing back and forth, stimulating that button with waves of delight.
Lerato’s eyes flutter back as she glances off toward the door. When it doesn’t open after a few seconds, she turns back to the femmy server and places a gloved hand upon his head. “Don’t mind if I., ah… have some…” she says, pushing herself up and reaching for the cart.
That’s when he lets his tongue dip inside, teasing at the entrance, slipping within.
She squeezes his head between her thighs. It’s soft but not as smooth as she’d imagine, so she squeezes harder, pushing him in. “Ah… a-amazing, mmm… skill and… ah. Craftsmanship! I can’t ah, oh!”
She drops the cake on her chest as the tongue reaches her sweet spot. She rolls her eyes back, her whole body shaking and shuddering as she runs her hands through her hair and grips at the back of the chair. She can’t find any place to be still as she wriggles about. “R… right there!” she says, “just like that!”
“Oh, I know,” he says, pulling back, his voice peaking up from her pubic mound, sparkling in delight. “Enjoy the next few minutes, Madam.”
With that, he returns to her and lets out a low and deep moan, leaning forward, gripping his hair, finding her fingers smushing that frosting that tops him, getting coated in that icing.
“A… ah… the structural, mmm, integrity is, ha!’
He squeezes her thighs, pushing himself forward, pushing herself back against the seat, basically squishing her against it, keeping her from going anywhere.
But why would she want to go anywhere? He is a pure and straightforward machine, giving the delights that no man living could do. He has none of the mistakes or the tirelessness or the stumblings that could get in the way of her perfect orgasm.
“I can’t belie-huh heeve, you’re so, ah, go… goood!” she gasps.  It’s like you were, mmm, made for this!”
He pulls his face away from her. “It doesn’t matter what we’re made for, darling,” he says, flashing a saucy glare at her. “What matters is we are happy.”
She tilts her head, catching her breath. “And you aren’t happy, are you?”
“I’m in a rut, really,” he says. “But today isn’t about me, Madam. It’s about you.”
He dives right back in there, hitting her in all the right spots once more, holding her thighs tight, a gentle growl rising up from his chest.
“Ah, fuck! B-boy has, ahhh, bite!” she gasps as he lifts her up, pulling her from the back of the chair and knocking her back so she’s on her shoulders.
He continues to slurp and suck and delve deep into her with his candy tongue, staring up at the doorway himself.
And he stops, dropping the dik-dik.
“H-hey, what are you doing!?” she gasps.
“I see you!” Baker says, arms akimbo, tapping his foot. “You’d better come in here right this instant!
The door opened, and through it, Lovemore, his ears down, eyes cast in a different direction.
“So, you couldn’t afford the service and decided to peek in?” Baker asks. “You should know I don’t take kindly to people who steal from me.”

Lovemore clasps a hoof over his heart, stepping back through the threshold of the baker’s bedroom. “What? Me? Steal from you? Perish the thought!”
The human-sized host approaches the short dik-dik, hands on his hips, a pout on his lips, and a discerning and disappointed gaze upon his uncovered eye. “Then, you’ll need to tell me exactly what you were doing, sneaking up on me and my special guest?”
“I, uh…” Lovemore catches his wife slipping off her seat, putting her dress back into position. “I just wanted to ensure that Lerato was having a good time.”
Baker squats down, hands on his knees, looking at the little antelope in the eyes. “If your wife wasn’t satisfied with her service, we have rules. You should have seen all that when you signed her up for this excursion.”
He smiles slightly and places a hand on Lovemore’s cheek. “Now, turn around and march right back out to the foyer, my friend, before I get handsy.”
“Oh, he’d like that, wouldn’t you, dear?” Lerato says, stashing away the cake knife behind her back as she walks past the tray. “Honestly, I’d love to see a bit of that myself.”
“W… wuah?” Lovemore gasps.
“Please, I read up on you, Baker. I know about your skill, not just as a culinary genius but as a champion in the Tournament of Pleasure.”
Baker narrows his gaze, turning toward the female of the duo. “Well, I would be flattered, but I haven’t built a body for such a thing, and I’m on the clock to deliver you a tantalizing time tonight.”
“You’re on the clock to give me what I want, right? Seems to me that program could be easily interpreted in many ways.”
Baker frowns. “What exactly do you mean by that, miss, Aah!?”
Lovemore claps his hooves against Baker’s neck and, from them, emits sparks of magical energy, coursing through the construct’s body, shocking the femboy, making his hair stand on end, the smell of crispy bread filling the room.
Baker collapses, holes in his neck burning with the vestiges of magic crackling through him.
He doesn’t get up, paralyzed as he is, hands and knees on the floor.
Lerato steps up before him, smirking as she looks down over his cakey form. “Well, well, hubby, looks like your magic is working well, as always.”
Lovemore smirks, pushing his glasses back up to position. “As always, his constructed form leaves him vulnerable to an overstimulation of magical energizing. It’ll take him a moment to reboot his systems adequately to do anything about it.”
“That should give me enough time to really have some fun with him,” says the lady Dik-Dik, walking along Baker’s side, pulling out the cake-covered knife. She presses the flat end of the blade at his neck and strokes it down along where his spine would be. “I have a hypothesis, my love,” she says. “This Baker’s form is entirely powered by  his magical will.”
“That would make sense, considering his business model.”
“It would be impossible to do any real damage to him.”
“That is the intent.”
“But instead of truly hacking,” She says, diving the knife into the small of Baker’s back. “We should try soft-modding.”
The baker gasps, arching his back.
“Hm… yes! His is a unique case,” the male says, clapping his hoof cloves over his nose. “But the principles behind his leaping consciousness into new bodies is understood by various schools of thought as theoretically possible.”
Lerato cuts a square hole in the middle of that cake, lifting up a large chunk from within Baker. “Well, my dear, what do you think about the magic inherent inside him? Any mechanics you can mess with?”
Lovemore takes the cube of cake and leans in. He sniffs it. He licks it. He waves his hand over it once and twice. “Hm, yes, fascinating.”
“Is it, now?” Lerato says, hopping up on Baker’s back and sitting on him, one leg crossed over the other.
Baker grits his teeth. “W… what are you planning to do?”
“All sorts of delightful things, I’m sure,” says Lerato, leaning on her side and patting Baker on the cheek. “After all, I’m in a bit of a slump. I’m stuck with my own programming and construct crafting, so why not look at you for inspiration on exactly what we can do with a fully programmable model.”
“And you’ve… been planning this… from the start?”
“That’s the brilliant part!” Says Lovemore, stepping around to face the construct. “We haven’t! All I wanted was for my wife to have a wonderful evening.”
“Oh, don’t be so modest. You wouldn’t have given me a night of access to the most famous golem in the city if you didn’t want me tinkering with him,” she coos, dragging the knife up along Baker’s side.
“So, that’s all I am to you?” Baker says. “A thing to break for your pleasure?”
“Oh, Baker,” Lovemore says, shrugging. “Who are you to lecture us on what you do yourself to your bodies.”
Lerato leans in, whispering into his ear. “You have people pay for the right to fuck and eat you, and you think you’re on some kind of moral high ground?”
“Now, now, deer,” Lovemore says, shaking his head. “We cannot expect artificial intelligence to understand the nuance of morality. If memory serves, he was created simply to give pleasure. Besides. Once we’re finished with your body, you won’t remember a thing.”
“Well, you in a sort of metaphysical sense,” The male continues.”
“What do you mean?” Baker asks.
“Oh, you silly little thing,” the magus says, shaking his head. “When you transfer consciousness into a new body, do you honestly think you’re moving your mind from one vessel to the next? What a fascinating coping mechanism that is.
“No, no, the truth is much simpler than that. You simply copy yourself from one form to the other. With but a few simple tweaks to the kernel of this body, I think we should be able to disconnect you from the mannequin form. It’ll simply wake up with no recollection of tonight’s events.
“Or, if we can figure out what’s in that noggin of yours,” Lerato says, “we could probably inject our own memories into there.”
“Oh, verily,” Lovemore says, patting his hooves together.

Lerato swirls into the dark bedroom, spinning and hopping onto her bed. She happily kicks her hooves and spreads her arms and legs out, stretching enthusiastically.
Stepping in behind her is Lovemore, lingering at the doorway, a soft smile on his features as he leans against the frame.
Pushing herself up, Lerato giggles. “What’s the matter, my smart, smart man? You  aren’t satisfied with a job well done?” She asks this, bouncing their hard-earned pouch of gold in the palm of her glove.
“Oh, I’m satisfied with the results and the knowledge,” he says, blushing slightly. “I’m just admiring your glow, my deer.”
She smirks, pulling one leg and resting her elbow on her knee. Curling her hooves, she bites her lip and curls a finger inward, dropping the gold. “Come here, you cutie-pie, and give me some sugar!”
He hops onto the bed with an eager squeak, climbing up in front of her, leaning in closely, and pressing nose-to-nose with his beloved. A moment later, she’s nuzzling him, cheek-to-cheek, getting their dik-dik tears all over each other.
A moment passes between the two when Lovemore flutters his eyes at his wife, and she leans in, pressing her mouth against his. The lady dik-dik drapes her arms over his shoulders and pulls him in, flopping onto the bed with a satisfied huff. He returns her kisses but pulls back, peppering them over her cheek and chin.
Tilting her head back, she huffs in delight, snickering slightly.
“What’s so funny?” her husband asks, catching his breath.
“Are you a jealous boy, Lovemore?” she coos.
“Oh, you’re doing this again, are you?” he says. “No, I’m not jealous of Baker.”
She smirks, tilting her head gently. “Oh, well, I’m glad you specified that because I asked if you were jealous of me getting head. I wonder if you wanted him to throat ya.”
“I, well, it was a gift for you and-”
“That’s okay. We’ll find a lady or dude to slobber ya up nice and sexy-like,” she says, caressing his cheek. “But you are a little jealous you didn’t get to taste any cake, aren’t ya?”
“I get to have you whenever I like!” Lovemore says, puffing out his chest.
“Oh, really? You think you could just command me to spread ‘em, and you can go to town any time, any day?”
“W-well, I would ask you first.”
“What if I don’t want you to ask?”
He gulps, licking his lips. “Well, I suppose I could just take you whenever I wanted.”
“I suppose you can.”
The two lovers stare at one another in the silence of their bedroom. Only the hot and heavy breaths from both of them break the tranquility for the few moments of peace.
They end when he generates magical energy at the tips of his hooves, forming a blade that he brings up to her, hooking under her dress, tearing down the fabric in a single clean cut, his other hoof clamping at the torn sheet and pulling it away, exposing her body before him.
“Ah, you jerk! That’s new!”
“I bought it for you.” He says, a growl in his voice. He lowers his head, pressing his mouth up against her breast, his lips wrapping around her stiffened nipple, tongue flicking at it.
Ah… ah… so forward… that’s my husband!”
He pulls his mouth back, suckling on the tit enough to pull her breast gently from the suction. When he opens his mouth, her mouth bounces back into place. “Of course. You know just how to push me forward, my beloved. Just like how I know how to push you beyond.” He chuckles, kissing down her tummy and down beneath, nuzzling against her womb.
“Mmmgnh… all that scheming’s got me… excited.”
“OIh, I know, I know, and it will all pay off soon, my love,” he giggles, dragging his nose down lower on her body. Soon, he brushes against her clitoris, already thrumming with the desire. He flicks his tongue out, swirling over that delighted nub.
“Aagah!” She practically has hearts in her eyes. She grips the sheets, pushing her hips forward. Her tail swishes back and forth rapidly, her legs locking to keep herself elevated to her husband’s ministrations.
“Careful now,” he sighs, pressing a hoof against her rear, “We don’t want you flying off the bed now, do we?” He responds to this, pressing his lips against her quivering want, his tongue sliding against her wettened folds.
“Ah, simply delightful. Could a simple sex worker desire the fruits of your arousal as much as I? Could the basic mechanics of activating your neurons bring you to such existential joy?”
She whimpers and bites her lips, shaking her head, squeaking out in delight and desire.
“I wonder, then,” he says, huffing his breath onto her mound, “what it is that really gets you going.”
“Y… youuu!” she whines, her knees arching to come together. At the last moment, she decides against it, relaxing and lowering.
“That’s right,” he says, his eyes focused on her. He claps his glasses between two hooves and tosses them aside before pressing his face against her. His vision blurred, but his focus was straight upon her body. His words are replaced now with the dedicated huffs of a man hungry for the woman he loves. She squirms on top of him, receiving every moment of his delight and dedication.
It is, after all, a beautiful night to make love and commit a crime.

Lovemore pulls his mouth away from his lover’s snatch, his tongue sticking out, and the trail of her desire chaining between the two dik-diks. Through his blurred vision, he watches her squirm around on the bed, and the male chuckles, climbing atop his beloved, laying upon her, and locking their mouths together.
Eagerly, the wife accepts her husband’s kiss, suckling and slurping at the taste of her own delight on his tongue. She momentarily samples the excitement but doesn’t move her hands to embrace him. Instead, she keeps herself on the bed, submissive to his whims. After all, no one knows how to care for her like her other half.
Pulling away from the kiss with a “smek,” the male dik-dik wipes his chin with his sleeve and sits up, straddling his life partner. “You know,” he begins, “I think the patch has finished. Do you wanna test out our new toy?”
“Oh, already?” she says, her chest rising and falling, resting a gloved hand between her breasts and her navel. “You sure you don’t want me all to yourself for now?”
The male looks down over her, his own chest rising and falling in quick succession. He clamps his outfit in his hooves and practically tears his garments apart, falling atop his wife again, his hooves behind her back, pressing against her shoulders.
There, he gives kisses to her, growling as he does, butting her with his orbital glands, marking her, claiming her.
“You turn me from prey to predator!” the male says, pushing his hips against his wife, his male hood revealing itself between his legs, hard and ready, pressing against those primed folds.
“Oh, I know,” She gasps, tilting her neck and pushing out her chest. She grabs the back of his head, urging him to various spots on her body, her shoulders, and her collar, and down to her breasts.
Lovemore, for his part, takes attention to use his expert mouth, so used to spelling out complex incantations, to lick and swirl and dance with her aroused nipple, sending tiny sparks of delight up to his other half’s brain, where she enjoys the static of delight overwhelmingly the sense of her logic and reason.
More than those simple ministrations is the simple, enthusiastic motion of the male’s hips. No expert courtesan, Lovemore’s thrusting are that of an unschooled novice, his excitement carrying him through with his quick and forceful thrusts.
With each, Lerato gasps, her squeaking cries getting louder and louder as the two of them rock the bed in their enthusiastic thrusting. She wraps her legs around him, urging him to continue his actions, rubbing his thighs with her hooves and lacing her gloved fingers through his hair.
“F… fu… fuck, Love… ah… no one, mmm, does this… as well as… ahh, you!”
Lovemore rests his head upon her shoulder, gritting his teeth, thrusting away, and nodding in focused agreement. “Nngh, Ler… my… my deer… uuuungh… I love… ouuuhve… you!”
She clamps him close to her as she feels him reaching his climax, latching him to her body, letting him spill out deep inside of her. Though he tries to pull back for the first moment, he soon relents, nestling himself deep into her as his thick cream fills her up, leaving his cock sloshing around in the creamy mix that he makes within her.
Catching his breath in slow and unsteady huffs, he pulls back, pushing his hooves against the stained sheets and looking down into her eyes. “Y… you play a… dangerous… game… my deer…” he says.
“You know you love rolling the dice,” she coos, stroking his cheek. “You’d make a good father, you know.”
Swallowing, Lovemore pulls his cock out from her, and the oozing cum and delightful juices drizzle out onto the sheets. “M… maybe,” he admits, sitting on his knees, resting his hooves upon his legs. “But there’s still so much we must do alone.”
“You could always zap me with one of your spells,” she says, sitting up with her back against the headboard. “Ensure we don’t have to take any chances.”
He sighs. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Putting me in a corner like this, you naughty, naughty girl.” He crawls up to her, placing one hoof upon her tummy and sliding it below her navel. His other hoof slips down between her lips, pressing through, squishing through the mix of sexual delight.
He closes his eyes, huffing out a breath and muttering the arcane incantation. His hooves buzz and hum as he holds them there, and immediately his wife arches her back, moaning louder than even when his cock was in her.
He keeps up the concentration, slipping the hooves in deeper, spreading out her lips, letting the liquid drip out of her and dissolve in a magical mist, eliminating any possible sperm that found its way inside of her.
The process is quick, and when he sits up, she collapses on the bed, smiling dumbly and closing her legs together.
“Mmm, is that it?” She asks, rocking her legs back and forth.
“That’s it, you selfish, selfish lady,” he says, chuckling, patting her knee. He kisses it and wraps his arms around her legs, pressing them up against his chest.
“How many times must you make me cuck myself, my deer?”
“As often as you still like it,” she says, biting her lips. “One of these nights, you can decide not to eliminate it and see how fate takes us.”
“Yeah, no. Not until we’ve finished our masterpiece.”
“You’re totally right,” she says, taking his hooves in her gloves and rubbing the back of those digits. “So, Lovemore, what were you saying again bout the patch being done?”
The male smirked and retrieved his glasses, pressing them to his eyes. “Oh, I think the cake’s done and ready for more testing, my deer.”

Sitting atop his adoring wife, Lovemore clicks two hooves together, sparking a magical signal. In response to said signal, a figure stumbles into the room, made of cake and with low coordination. There’s no expression on the creation’s face, which stares down at the two lovers with a dull gaze, only showing recognition to the male.
“Behold, my deer, our bootleg replica of Baker—severed from his original self and ready to serve us for all our nefarious needs.”
“Oh, you’re so naughty,” Lerato says, squeezing her husband’s rump. “I could just eat you up!”
“Hey now, save room for dessert,” the food golem says. A whiff of some sass passes through his barely moving lips, but it lacks all imagination, all polish.
The copy slides onto the bed, biting its lip and smirking at the lady. “I remember it was your special day today? I made this body just for you.”
“Looks like someone’s filling back into their role nicely,” Lerato says, pushing her hubby to the side.
Lovemore falls with his back on the bed, crossing a leg over another, resting his head in his hands. “Of course. All of the construct’s personality is just learned behavior after all.”
Lerato climbs to her knees to face the cakey boy, resting her gloves on his shoulders. She looks over towards Lovemore and rolls her eyes. “Come on. I know how a golem works. What do you think I am.”
“An adoring audience to my powerful mage craft?” Lovemore says, snickering.
Lerato reaches behind the head of the cake construct and pinches a chunk of the false baker’s head off. “This should be enough for my purposes, don’t you think?” She asks Lovemore.
“The magic is distributed about the form. Conceivably, if a crumb of the construct remains, then it shall be enough to animate his form.”
“That’s all I need to know!” Lerato says, hopping off the bed and clopping out toward the door.
“Ooh, are you going to do some naked engineering!?” Lovemore gasps, hopping to his knees.
“You’d love to see that, wouldn’t you?” Lerato says, teasing him, clutching the chunk of cake in her fist. “But sorry, you won’t. I need to test another thing out about our little friend here.”
The male frowns. “Whatever could that be?”
She turns around, a hand on her hip, swaying teasingly. “Oh, cake boy, dear.”
The copied Baker perks up and bows his head. “Yes, miss?”
“What I would really like right now is to hear my dearest deer husband cry out in pure pleasure like a virgin girl while I’m out in my workshop. Think you could do that for me, even if it isn’t in the payment plan from tonight?”
The false Baker frowns, furrows his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. “It isn’t? Hm…”
“Please…?” Lerato says, fluttering her eyes.
“N-now, wait a second, my deer!” Lovemore says, waving his hooves.
“What? You don’t want to be dicked down by his candy cane?”
Lovemore blushes, retracting his arm and rubbing his hoof upon his chin.
“That’s what I thought,” she says, smooching her glove and blowing her hubby a kiss.
When she closes the door, that leaves the two guys on the bed, both of them rather twinkly, both of them entirely naked.
“So…” Lovemore says, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re going to listen to her, yeah?”
The fake Baker flutters his eyes, climbing up toward the antelope., hands on either side of him, a smirk over his face.
Lovemore falls onto his back, his voice caught in his throat as he stares at that candy eye reflecting his blushing and huffing face. “I… I take that as a yes.”
“You take it as a success on your experiment, darling,” the construct says.”
“W-wait, are you saying you’re, ah… ah…!?”
A hand wraps around the elongated member of the antelope, and this Baker saddles up, resting his spongey thing against it. Pushing his hips forward, he slowly frots against the dik-dik’s dick.
“Aware of what you made? Maybe I am. What of it?”
The dik-dik bites his lip, letting out the squeaks of delight he’s quite known for.
The baker pushes forward, sliding his cock over the smaller male’s. “My, you are surely endowed for a creature of your stature. I…” he pauses. “I’m sorry, that original Baker should not have been so hasty to kick you out.”
Lovemore squirms, gasping, pushing his hips up, gripping the mattress with his hooves.
“Are you delighted in me, or are you turned on by the wondrous magical achievement you’ve accomplished? It’s okay, Mister Lovemore. You can tell me!”
Meanwhile, in her workshop, Lerato, having found her work clothes, steps up to her own creation, opening up the vessel and placing the crumb within it. She closes the door and tilts her ear out.
“Aaaah… aah… haaaa!”
She smirks, nodding. “Nice. You deserve a good time, lover boy.” Sitting in front of her scrying tablet, she says this and presses the operating keys to activate the magic. The Runic operations display the diagnostics of her device before her, and she waits, fingers crossed, spinning back and forth in her chair.
When the test ends and the mechanical creation does not whir to life, she slams her gloved fist upon the table, leaving a small dent.
“What am I missing!” she growls, gritting her teeth.
Down in the hall, the echoes of her husband’s mewls of delight again hit her ears. She whirls around in her chair, gripping her arms. “Oh, yes, of course,” she says, chuckling. She leaps from her chair and grabs a large hammer. Draping it over her shoulders, she heads down the hall, whistling.

Lovemore is a good husband. He is a shoulder to cry on for his wife and lover. He provides for the house with his work. He protects her when she needs defending and supplies her every need when she asks for it.
And a great husband always gets rewarded.
Today, that reward is being lifted by the cake-twink they stole, his back pressed against the copy Baker’s chest, the more prominent male holding onto the antelope’s thighs, spreading them apart, and that cock pressing over and over again onto the love button the smaller male so cherishes.
His squeaks reverberate through the room, his cock bouncing and oozing with the delight that anticipates his climax. His mouth hangs open, and his eyes roll back as he reaches over his head, hooking his hooves around the construct’s neck.
“S… such… a… a great… machine!” he cries. “It’s lush like nothing I’ve… ha-had before!
The robotic partner slows down his pace, keeping the antelope from edging, tears running down the dik-dik’s face as the emotions envelop him. As they continue, the baker knows precisely how to time himself and how to keep his partner from reaching climax. It is a perfect combination—a sensation that cannot be beaten!
And amid the throes of delight, Lerato kicks the door to the bedroom open, a giant hammer hefted over her shoulder. “Alright, hubby, playtime’s over! Time for some hardware modding!”
The male reaches ot his face, adjusting his glasses, panting heavily as he looks at his wife with horny-blurred vision. “Uh.. Ha.. W… what?”
She handles the hammer in two hands, smirking. “Alright, baker, put my husband down. You’re getting in my robot.”
The construct slows down, stopping but not pulling out of the husband. He wraps his arms around Lovemore’s stomach and turns around, a soft smile upon his features. “Oh, hello, mistress. Are you upset with me?”
She smirks, thumbing her nose. “Nope, not at all. You just got spare parts I need to make my masterpiece really work.”
“Oh, I see. What happens to me when you finish working with your robot?”
Lovemore takes a deep breath, still hanging on, his hooves twitching. “T… there is no ‘you.’ You are but a copy made for our purposes.”
“I see, and isn’t this a purpose?” He says this, collapsing onto the bed, the dik-dik under him thrusting heavily into him.
“Y-yeeees!” Lovemore gasps, patting at the bed.
“I’m not quite done pleasing your husband,” the constructed baker says. “You’ll have to come back later to disassemble me.”
“Well, well, an uppity machine.” She holds the hammer out toward him. “I can take you out while still making my hubby cum.”
Lovemore responds with howls of delight, his vision unfocused, his glasses askew.
“Don’t worry, deer. I’ll get the strap-on out if you really want to get pounded. I just gotta take a swing!”
She swings the hammer straight at Fake Baker, and in response, the robot grabs the shaft, all while pumping away at the small male under him. “Sorry, darling,” he says, tilting his head. “But Baker participated in the Tournament of Pleasure, remember? I know my way around a fight.”
“So do I,” Lerato says, leaping up and lifting her knee.
The Faker rolls around onto his back, with Lovemore in the way of Lerato’s attack. The cock-addled dik-dik holds his hands up as his only defense, preparing himself for a very unpleasant strike.
But Lerato pulls herself on the shaft of the hammer, changing her leverage and landing on the bed beside him.
“Ooh, very nice,” Faker says. “But it isn’t enough.” He says this, wrapping his arms around Lovemore and standing up, still thrusting away. Fleks of Dik-Dik pre-cum drip down onto Lerato. “He’ll remember me and how good I was, and you’ll  never be able to satisfy him, darling.”
“Ah… ha... I don’t.. Think… it works... L-like that!” the poor dik-dik cries out.
Lerato growls, hopping onto her hooves and gloves. “Oh, you ain’t gonna finish off my hubby,” she says. “I’m gonna finish you off!”
“Oh, I’d love to see you, whoa!”
Faker’s weight is too much for him because Lerato lunges forward and bites a chunk of cake from the construct’s ankle just then. The lack of balance sends him toppling over, crashing off the bed, and rolling over, landing on the floor.
Lovemore lands on top of him, caving in his chest, leaving a dik-dik-shaped indent along the entire front of his form.
“W-well, that was unexpected,” the faker says, lying on the ground, still holding onto Lovemore.
“Unexpected?” says Lerato. “Seriously? Your body was made to please me however I wished.” She gulps, licking her lips. “And this fruit cake is my favorite.”
Lovemore coos in delight as his wife hops off the bed.
Squished to the ground, the Faker can’t move as the dik-dik lady throws down the hammer, the handle crashing against his soft neck, squishing and severing it, and sending his head rolling back and under the bed.
When she lands, it is on her husband’s face, the male yelping as the weight falls on him, but his cock harder than ever before.
“There you go,” She sighs, sitting back and wiping her brow. “A simple extraction and… had... Mm… Lovemore, you cheeky fucker!”
Lovemore had already slithered his tongue up against her, stroking up and down along her lips, humming delightedly.
“Oh, of course, you’d be turned on by that,” she says, pushing herself off of him, her delight dripping down onto his chin.
“You’re so strong, my deer! No one can beat you!”
“Don’t I know it,” she coos, grabbing the hammer and hooking it under the bed. From beneath, she pulls out the severed head of the Faker, who looks at her with a scowl of disapproval.
“So, my robot servant,” she snickers, “You wanted to cuck me, but it’s I who shall cuck you!” With that, she grips the cake cock and pulls it from her husband’s hole.
“You’ve ruined this, and you won’t be needing it anymore,” she says, pulling it off from the rest of the squished body, holding it up in front of the detached head, and crushing the cake until it crumbles on the floor.
“I take great satisfaction in knowing you’ll have to clean that up later,” the faker says.
“Ha!” Lerato says, leaning in. “Silly construct. That’s what my robot is for!”

“So, who would have thought you’d eat your cake and have it, too?” asks Lovemore as he flips through the pages of his book, sitting with one leg crossed in the chair.
“We would, of course,” says Lerato, slamming the hatch shut on her newest creation. The machine whirs to life, puttering around the room with the dissatisfied chugging of existential horror as it sweeps through the apartment.
“So, I don’t think it’s exactly viable to actually sell this design to anyone,” laments Lovemore.
“Nah, but it’s a learning experience. I already got the mind a-chugging for some adjustments to the next mode. Now that I know it works, we can develop our own constructed soul-based operating system. Hopefully, one that doesn’t try to get so uppity.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” says Lovemore, stroking his stomach. “I didn’t mind how uppity our Faker was.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t,” says Lerato, sauntering over towards Lovemore’s seat, pinching his book between her fingers and tossing it aside. She climbs atop him, draping her arms over his shoulders and pulling him close. “Getting your butt pounded by the bootleg copy got you going, didn’t it?”
He blushes, squirming under her. “Y-you’re the one who told him to do it.”
She leans in, pressing her nose to him. “I know, I know, but you’re the one who was squealing like a virgin as he was pressing your boy button.”
“W-what are you going to do to me, my dear?” he whimpers.
“Everything I would ever want,” she says, leaning in and pressing her lips to her husband’s, and the two of them disappear into the delights of their kiss.
That is until a knock at the door interrupts them.
Lerato pulls free, wiping her chin with her thumb. “You get yourself nice and comfortable, love. I’ll be right back.”
She slips away from the chair, walking past the puttering machine, sweeping up the old crumbs off the floor, leaving Lovemore to shuffle slowly out of his garments, luxuriating in himself as he wonders what delights his beloved will do to him.
Lerato makes it to their abode's front entrance and opens the newcomer's door. Standing past the threshold is a woman in a suit.
“This is the establishment of the Lovers?” asks this newcomer.
“It might be,” says Lerato, a hand on her hip and the other on the doorframe. “Who’s asking.”
“A client interested in your services.”
“We’re in the middle of something,” Lerato says, stepping aside, “but if you don’t mind us doing our thing, we can talk.”
—
“Boss, you seem a bit out of it. Are you alright?”
Libi flips the closed sign to open, passing by Baker.
The construct sits at one of the barstools, in his base mannequin form, scribbling down notes and comparing things.
“Boss?”
The faceless mannequin turns toward Libi, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m sorry, darling,” he says. “It’s so strange that I have blanked out last night. I’m just trying to figure out why.”
Libi slips next to him, looking over the journal. “Any success on that? I’m sorry I wasn’t in last night. I was,” she pauses, “busy.”
“No, that’s quite alright,” he muses, tapping his forehead. “I’ve never had a blackout that long before. It usually occurs between hopping from body to body, and even then, I can account for it, usually.
“Did you ask Tik Tik about it?”
“No, sweetie, I don’t want to bother her. She’s preparing for her trip to the insect kingdoms. Besides, she didn’t devise the initial plan, anyway.”
Libi blinks. “She’s not?”
He shakes his head. “No, no, I developed the initial recipe based on what I learned at the college. I should research, but they always want to poke and prod at me, trying to figure out what makes me tick.”
“I’m sorry you have to go through stuff like that, boss,” Libi says, reaching out and patting him on the back of the hand. “Tell you what—I’ll go look into the library to see what I can find out about the recipe.”
He pats the back of her hand and nods. “Oh, thank you, Libi. You’re such a good help. I could kiss you, but I have no lips right now.” He sighs. “The real sticking point, though, is this,” he says, tapping the notes. “I should have had a client last night, but no names are on the ledger.”
“Foul play?”
“Perhaps, but that’s not for someone like us to decide. Maybe I should get the judicators involved or a hero of some sort.
Libi takes the ledger. “I can see what I can find if you’re okay with me heading off to the college.”
Baker places his cheek in his hand and nods. “You know what, a delivery needs to be made there. Why don’t you do a little snooping after you give that cake to the retirement party?”
Libi smirks. “I might be a bit late.
“Take your time, dear. Take your time…”