Another Kind of Baker's Daughter Ch. 02

"Master, I..." she began, but Ginger silenced her with another kiss, falling forward onto her, bracing herself against the bed as Albrecht began to pump into her, stuffing her hot passage, his fingers at her hips digging into the moist dough beneath her skin. Marchpane clutched at her and writhed, her fingers still working within herself. Her other hand found the place where Ginger and Albrecht were joined, and began to rub at them both.

It was too much for Albrecht. He gave one last pump and shot his load into Ginger, filling her with his seed like an eclair. She spasmed around him and collapsed heavily onto her sister, keening as her own climax took her. He leaned heavily against her brown back himself, sandwiching her between his chest and the pale golem beneath her.

He rolled off of her, and she pushed herself up and sat back, his seed and her juices dripping out of her in a hot mess, cum swirling into molasses like cream in coffee. Albrecht's cock was stained brown from her depths. She had a self-satisfied smile on her face as she looked down at him.

"Master, don't... don't leave me like this," said Marchpane, clutching at his arm. He looked over at her; she was still lying on her back where Ginger had pressed her, fingers working desperately at her own slit as her other hand held his arm. Her needy gaze found his, and he had to swallow before he was able to speak.

"I won't," he said. He sat up, stiffly, and then shifted up to the headboard of the bed, leaning against it. "Come here," he said, and Marchpane scrambled up and crawled after him. He had gone limp after shooting into Ginger, but he made Marchpane sit in his lap anyway, his flaccid length pressed against her slit.

"It will take a moment," he said. She kissed him, hungrily. He drew back in surprise, then leaned into it. Behind Marchpane, Ginger smiled lazily, leaning against one of the bed posts, fingers idly drawing circles in her cum as it pooled on the bed beneath her.

Albrecht's hands slid up Marchpane's sides and gently circled her breasts, toying with her nipples. Her mouth still tasted of honey and almond, but now there was the hint of Ginger's cinnamon and clove on her tongue, from where they had been kissing earlier. He chased the taste, hungrily. He was beginning to grow hard again, swelling against her opening. She rocked against him, and he bucked his hips to rub against her, leaving streaks of ginger's brown cum on her pale flesh.

It wasn't long before he was ready again.

"Alright," he said. "Are you ready?" She nodded against his neck, voiceless, and he took hold of her hips and lifted her up, holding her over his tip. Slowly, he lowered her onto him.

She bucked, and arched her back, and gasped. He kept going until he was hilted within her. She writhed around him, her narrow passage slick as marzipan melted and ran. He didn't fear for her--the magic that animated her would keep her from melting away, just as it had repaired Ginger after their first, rushed coupling.

Slowly, he began to move. She was tight but slippery, and her insides churned around him with every thrust. She shook her hips, weakly at first, but with more confidence as he picked up speed. She was riding him hard by the time Ginger put her chin on Marchpane's shoulder and reached down between Albrecht and her to return the pale golem's favour, massaging the place where he slid into her, rolling her fingers over his shaft, and Marchpane's slit. Albrecht grunted as he pumped up into the golem, whose carved hair was flying in thin, marzipan sheets about her head as she gyrated wildly around his shaft. His hands dug into her breasts, deforming them, leaving gouges behind his clutching fingers, and she bit her lip and moaned.

"Bite her," hissed Ginger, working at them both. "Bite her, like you bit me." In the heat of it he bit her, leaning up to sink his teeth into the flesh of the outside of her breast.

Marchpane gasped and arched back into a perfect half circle, her head almost in Ginger's lap, and clenched around Albrecht's shaft as her tight passage roiled uncontrollably. There was a small gap in her breast where Albrecht's teeth had torn away a bite of marzipan. He swallowed it guiltily, but the hole was already being filled in by the magic that animated her, almond paste oozing up out of her and solidifying.

"Now we're both marked," said Ginger, grinning, and Albrecht came, shooting deeply into Marchpane as he had just done with Ginger. He had to wonder just how independent she'd get if he let her. She was already the strangest golem he'd ever seen.

He collapsed back against the headboard, spent, and Marchpane folded forward and relaxed against his chest, eyes opening and closing.

"That was... Master, I... thank you," she said. He put his arm around her, as Ginger curled up against his side, her arm joining his around Marchpane's back. Albrecht was silent while he caught his breath, considering.

"How would you like to learn to bake?" he said at lasat, putting his head back after a moment.

"Master?" said Marchpane, uncomprehending.

"We can't do this all the time," he said. "I run a bakery. I have assistants that need supervision and training. And apprentice wizards, working under me. Ginger's already my apprentice, sort of--"

Ginger gasped "really?" but he continued.

"--so I could make you my assistant," he finished.

"A golem is to serve," said Marchpane, uncertainly.

"Then it's settled," he said. "We'll start next week. I gave everyone that long as a holiday, but it wouldn't be fair to keep them away longer than that."

It would have to do, he thought. Treat them like people, and maybe they would be people. Ginger was already showing a disturbing amount of initiative, and he had the feeling Marchpane would be no different. He'd wanted companionship from his constructs, not mindless obedience, and he'd gotten it. So much of magic was in the will. Now it only remained to see what could be made of them. He didn't think Sylvie would approve, if he kept them locked in his chambers as playthings or slaves.

His eyes were closed, he was drifting off--not yet, he couldn't.

"I'm going to sleep now," he mumbled, warning them. He didn't want Marchpane panicking like Ginger had.

Silence. He opened his eyes.

They were curled against him, the golem made of gingerbread and the golem made of marzipan, and they were still and silent like statues. He blinked at them. Were they... asleep? Golems didn't sleep.

He felt himself drifting off. The morning. He'd deal with it in the morning.

* * *

"Ginger?" said Marchpane, in the middle of the night.

"...Yes?" said Ginger, opening one eye. She could see her... her sister, looking at her in the gloom.

"We can... we can share him, right?" she said. "Master Albrecht?"

Ginger thought for a moment. She knew, in the way she recognized Albrecht as her master, knew in her deepest part, that golems were supposed to work together to serve their creator. Even so, she had been... scared? Angry? Some feeling she couldn't describe, when Albrecht had begun work on Marchpane. Now, however, the feeling was gone, replaced by a soft, warm glow. It was right that they share their master--and perhaps share more.

"I think so," she said, sleepily. "I think so."