"you know that my words can change you," adrianus murmured, "so long as you're unable to resist them."

victor was supine on the table, surrounded by plates and bowls with various dessert toppings. he knew, deep down, that if he was in a position like this, he had probably already lost. after all, if he could have resisted adrianus... then they wouldn't have gotten this far in the first place. even now, he was relatively still - a bit twitchy, but certainly not moving enough to escape. he wasn't even moving enough to disturb the table.

but they hadn't even gotten started yet.

"of course, changing your body so completely is more difficult than just getting you to obey basic commands," they continued, slowly running their hand down his arm. "but i don't anticipate many complications with you. i think your body should respond quite nicely."

his heart was pounding.

"you..." it took tremendous effort to say anything at all. "you're going to eat me?"

"that's right," they said gently, looking down at him with a very strange kind of affection. "you'll become a dessert for me. once your whole body becomes nice, and soft, and sweet... and i can just cut right through it with a butter knife... i'll help myself."

they continued stroking his arm. "of course, i couldn't eat you all at once... i'll probably start with your limbs, and store the rest of you away for later. don't worry... you won't have to be lonely... i have a nice, cool glass display case for you, that i'll keep nearby, so we can still see each other. i wouldn't just leave you in a dark fridge by yourself..."

they said it as if it was meant to be reassuring, but it might have been creepier than simply treating him like an ordinary dessert.

and yet, their tone of voice told him that he was supposed to relax, regardless. he couldn't help but respond to it. a part of him accepted everything they said, and it seemed that part of him was what controlled his reactions, because he didn't move no matter how much the rest of him repeated in his mind that they wanted to eat him, that being eaten was supposed to be the exact opposite of what any living being should want, that in fact, most living beings center their lives and behaviors around avoiding that exact fate.

then again, this didn't resemble actual predation at all, did it? he wasn't going to be eaten the way an animal would be eaten. was that why his instinct wasn't stopping him? how exactly was he supposed to react to someone preparing to transform him into a dessert? how was he supposed to be sincerely scared of something that felt so absurd and surreal?

even if he knew that every precious second that he allowed to slip away from him was only bringing him closer to the point of no return.

"well," adrianus finally said, "i suppose i should get started."

he could only twitch his fingers and tremble. that was the extent of his resistance.

"it's alright," they said slowly, softly, quietly, leaning closer to him. they had stopped stroking his arm, now just resting their hand on his and rubbing it with their thumb. "you can just relax for me... it will feel nice... it won't hurt at all... you'll only feel pleasure."

with a shiver, all of his tension melted away, his body becoming still. his thoughts remained more or less the same, his apprehensiveness actually becoming stronger, but he was entirely unable to turn those thoughts into actions.

"even when i eat you..." they murmured, "it will feel good."

chills ran down his spine.

"that's right," they cooed. "you already smell just a bit sweeter... can you feel it?"

he wondered if it was true, or if they were just saying that. it didn't matter. his body and mind were flooded in an instant with a feeling that this was really happening, that it was starting, that it was too late. he was changing.

he felt dizzy.

they were stroking his arm once again, and this time, he could feel the touches all the way through the skin, into the muscle, the bones.

"with each stroke," they said in a steady, hypnotic tone, "your body becomes sweeter... each layer... changing into part of a dessert. the skin and muscle becoming a soft, spongy cake... the blood becoming a thick syrup... the bone becoming a biscuit... something that would have just enough of a crunch when you bite into it... but that you can still cut into and eat quite easily..."

a strange, quiet noise escaped his throat. it was a foreign sensation, feeling his body change like this. he mostly felt it in the arm they were stroking, but that sweet blood was traveling through the rest of him, too. pumping through him as his heart pounded.

it was difficult to describe, but it felt... good. it was as if his arm was relaxing on a level that wasn't physically possible for a normal human body part. as if even the tension of just... having skin and muscle and bone was melting away. and there was a distinct feeling of sweetness. not just a smell or taste, but a deep sensation that was slowly permeating every part of his arm.

their strokes began to feel different - the texture of his skin was changing. it was softer... beyond that, it was just a bit numb. and yet the feeling was not at all unpleasant. even that hint of numbness felt like a relief.

they moved to his hand, caressing it, massaging it, letting the feeling spread through it.

"you're doing so well..." they purred. "i can feel you changing... changing so deeply... letting that sweetness completely take over..."

there was a uniquely helpless feeling to it, when it was his hand. it was becoming less flexible, less dextrous, less sensitive.

some of the fear and apprehension came back to him, even as they were dulled by that relaxing sweetness that was spreading through his body. he couldn't believe that he had gotten so absorbed in these feelings that he had completely forgotten about the very real danger he was in. he couldn't use his hand like this. how many basic tasks and actions were being made completely impossible for him, as he lay there, watching, his body just obediently allowing itself to be molded?

they set his hand back down, letting it rest on the table. it was no longer a normal part of his body - it was a piece of cake, in the shape of a hand. numb, dull, still... and fluffy, and sweet, ready to be pulled apart, each finger conveniently sized to be a little snack, a little treat. they could even be dipped in chocolate, or jam, or some other sweet sauce or frosting or syrup that could coat them. the image felt strangely satisfying, even though he knew he should be horrified by the idea.

but it was food now. it no longer felt like him. perhaps there was a strange sort of comfort, in that disconnect. but would he still feel that disconnect when the rest of him had transformed, or would it once again feel like a part of his body?

adrianus moved to his other arm, stroking it the same way he had stroked the first, murmuring the same suggestions of sweetness. this time, he felt it happen much more quickly - he was getting used to it.

"a part of you is anticipating it, isn't it?" adrianus said. "you already know how nice it feels... a part of you is eager to just relax and let it happen... isn't that right? you want to feel this in your whole body... this wonderful sweet, soft feeling..."

he couldn't deny it, as much as he wanted to. it did feel strangely addictive... even despite the knowledge that the more he gave in and allowed this to continue, the closer he would get to being eaten, to being consumed. his odds of escaping, even if he could summon all of his effort... they were already almost zero, without his arms.

maybe that should have made him feel more nervous, more terrified. and yet, when he thought about that helplessness, about how he really couldn't stop this, even if he tried... when he thought about how it really wouldn't make a difference if he attempted to resist... he felt... relief. yes, even if he did have a chance... he was already giving up. he really shouldn't, but... was that sweet blood getting to his brain?

it just felt... so nice, to give in, to let those fears and worries become numb and distant and quiet. to let himself be overtaken with sweetness, with sugar.

by the time they were caressing his other hand, he could hardly even pretend to be concerned. he could only focus on the feeling, on how delicious even that helplessness was. on how carefully adrianus had to set it down when they were done, because it was their dessert, and they didn't want to tear it or ruin its shape.

he could sense their hunger as they moved to his legs, stroking both of them at the same time, starting from the inner thighs. the tingly sense of arousal that he felt from their fingers brushing the sensitive skin was also becoming dull and sweet, the desire shifting, settling into something else... he knew that if they just pinched their fingers, the cake would crumble, and the syrup would ooze out of him... it would stick to their fingertips... and they could just... lick it...

any tension in his legs was completely removed, that numbness consuming more and more of his body. the ticklishness in his feet vanished with only a few touches. he had absolutely no chance of walking now. it wouldn't make a difference if they cut his legs off right at that moment - they were already entirely useless to him. they couldn't support his body even if he could move them. they couldn't even kick without the risk of falling apart.

adrianus' hands wandered, running down his chest, and his stomach. the table had felt somewhat uncomfortable under his back before, but how, he just sank onto it. even as they ghosted over his genitals, the sharp pleasure quickly faded into a much less sensitive, but pleasant, feeling, the wetness turning to a thick cream that seemed to fill them and make them puff out. it still felt... sexual, but in a more distant, abstract sort of way. he hoped that when they ate that part, they wouldn't bother with utensils... that they would only use their mouth.

he had just enough sense to be concerned by the idea that he would hope something like that, that he would look forward to them eating any part of him.

but the only part of him that hadn't been fully changed was his head and neck, and they were approaching that now, their hand hovering over his throat.

"what do you think it will feel like, when your head is transformed?" they murmured. "how do you think that will affect your mind? your thoughts?"

the hand near his throat, combined with their tone, managed to inspire some fear and tension in him again, but his body was entirely useless.

"your brain might just be the part i'm looking forward to the most," they continued, their hand inching closer to his exposed neck. "i'm sure it will taste so good... but, don't worry, victor... i'll save the best for last. i'd like you to be able to enjoy every part of this, too..."

they put their hand on his throat, and though they were gentle, and it didn't at all feel like being choked, it was threatening, it was dangerous. he was beginning to taste the sweetness inside his own mouth, the sweetness of his saliva, his tongue, his gums, his teeth. the thought that those parts of him were now edible was viscerally uncomfortable, and he did not want to imagine exactly how they would be eaten. he could even smell his own sweetness inside of his nose.

the overwhelming, dizzying sweetness flooding his senses faded mercifully quickly, becoming the same sensation that the rest of his body had - a vague kind of sweetness that was more like bodily awareness than active stimulation. it was simply an ever-present part of him.

their hands caressed his face now. it was especially odd, the feeling of his face, of his head, becoming less and less human, less and less real, becoming something that's only shaped like a person. he might have trembled and shuddered at the feeling if he could have, at that point - but he couldn't.

still, it was gradually becoming more pleasant, more comfortable. it felt so... soft. so delicate.

they pet his hair, and he felt its texture change, becoming thicker, the hairs merging together into something else, into one solid shape.

finally, their hand rested on his forehead. he was completely helpless as the sweetness seeped deep into his head, through his skull, reaching his brain.

"that's right," they murmured. "just let your thoughts become sweet and syrupy... let your mind... melt..."

it wasn't simply a figure of speech. surely his brain could have been some sort of jello, at least, something that could hold its shape... but no. it was melting, his thoughts pooling into a thick, sweet, delicious sludge. if his head were cut open, it would all ooze out of him. it would cling to the knife, dripping off of it, a wonderful pink syrup.

he was still conscious, on some level, but his brain was no longer meant for thinking, really. his mind was something to be consumed. he just knew it would feel good, for it to be licked up, tasted, swallowed. that it would taste so nice. that adrianus would enjoy it. that they wouldn't be able to help themself... that they wouldn't be able to hold back.

he could only stare up at adrianus, who really was looking at him as a decadent dessert now. even his vision was sweet, his eyes glazing over.

"very good," they said softly, affectionately, hungrily, licking their lips. "very, very good."

their mouth was so nice, he couldn't imagine why he wouldn't want every part of himself to disappear inside of it.

he heard them step away and grab a knife, he felt it sinking into his arm so easily, only needing a slight bit of force when it reached what used to be the bone. he could hear the soft crunch as it was severed. even then, he could still feel it. he could feel them slicing it again, putting the slice on a plate, sinking the fork into it, taking a bite. he could feel their mouth, their lips, their teeth, their tongue. then, it all dissolved, faded, melting away into their throat. it was gone.

"mm," they hummed. "you taste so good..."

he felt nothing but pure bliss and pleasure, as they took bite after bite, and he felt those small pieces of him disappear, one after the other. he could feel their satisfaction, that satisfaction filling the void that those missing pieces of him left. he wanted it to replace every part of him. he had the sense that, even when there was nothing left of him to feel that pleasure, it would still feel good, somehow. he had the feeling that he would still exist, as that pleasure, that he would be that pleasure. it made perfect sense to the syrupy, melted brain inside of his soft, spongey body.