CW// Inanimate TF, Vore, Bad-end Your birthday party was ruined before it even began. Sure, the weather was great, and almost everyone you invited said they were coming. But your best friend who had organised it all with you forgot the birthday cake, of all things!
Your friend tried to cheer you up, insisting that you only get cakes for kids to make stupid wishes on. You quip back at her "Oh yeah? Well my stupid wish is for you to have a birthday cake!" You don't remember how long it was after that for the sensation to creep in. Not long.
First you felt your insides gurgle. It was as if, starting from a small point in your stomach, your guts weren't structures with rigid boundaries. Instead they were like putty, with blood bone and intestine all of the same texture, held together by circumstance.
This batter began to slowly churn within you, and before you knew it you couldn't scream. You couldn't cry. You couldn't express the way it felt as more and more of your organs began to join the slow viscous slurry. You felt the melting sensation crawl up your spine till it hit-
Your brain. Your vision starts to fade as your feet flatten and detach from your ankles, flattening into a metal tray. Things seem to move faster as your body shrinks and expands, forming a cake, strawberry and vanilla, the birthday girl's favourite.
Wait, the birthday girl? Through the garbled haze of your melting mind, you notice the changed banners and the smile of your friend as she picks you up before your vision goes black, your eyes becoming a printed on message: "Happy 19th Birthday Peaches!"
Your brain fully melts and forms itself into 8 strawberries for decoration. They flow out a hole in the top of the cake that used to be your mouth along with the delicious icing your lungs had been filling up with. At some point during that, the you that you were was lost.
But you couldn't tell, and it's not like you had time to reflect on it. You were now nothing but a delicious strawberry birthday cake, and you lacked the conscious thought to even recognise it.
You don't hear the chatter of the party with the ears that are now baked into your sponge, just like you don't hear the song that's sung as wax drips onto what was once your face.
You don't see the faces of people that you once remembered with eyes that are nothing more than a cheap edible paper. Just like you don't see them ignoring you entirely, unaware of your presence as more than the object you are now.
It wasn't all bad. You don't feel the pain of the knife sliding cleanly into you with a brain now nothing but fruity flesh to be piled onto the plate of the special girl. And you barely notice yourself fracture into a dozen pieces as you're divied up for the party.
And you're long gone by the time that you're digesting in the stomachs of people who don't know you. Who never knew you, not any more. Your girlfriend is her girlfriend now. Your friends are her friends, and your family didn't come. I wonder what her birthday wish was.