The Joy of Cuddling

by jmj

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Gore, Violence, Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Alternate Universe, Sad, Original Character, Pinkie Pie, Sex
Length: 12928

Pinkie Pie finds herself in a new town alone and empty. Can anything fill the gaps in her life?

Pinkie Pie finds herself in a new town alone and empty. Can anything fill the gaps in her life?

Published 2022-12-15 17:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2024-02-20 15:32:56 UTC

I really love you, baby

I really love you, baby

Pinkie Pie threw back the shot glass with adroit precision. The burning liquid didn't gather in her mouth but simply followed the curve of her esophagus and plummeted down into the churning blackness of her stomach. In a matter of moments it would begin to digest, the potent alcohol thrumming through her body and adding to the significant buzz it's predecessors had constructed by their demise to the devouring machinery of her digestive system. She wiped her lips with the back of her foreleg out of habit more than necessity and tapped the glossed, colored wood of the nightclub, Neighon Bomb's, bar with a hoof and then pushed the small container to the side to clatter against a collection of similar empty glasses.

The bartender cast a doubtful eye on the pink mare and seemed to study her for a moment which only agitated Pinkie. "I'm not wasted yet. Give me another." Her words shuffled but did not blend together in a slur of mispronunciation which must have quelled the doubt the chestnut stallion held as he sat another shotglass onto the bar and filled it with clean precision to the brim.

Pinkie lifted the drink and breathed in, slugging back the drink in identical fashion to the one before, breathing out the powerful taste to lessen the burn. The flavor of whiskey was far from her favorite but she needed the extra courage the liquor gave for what she wanted to do. It made things a lot easier for her if she could dull the thinking apparatus of her head and let instinct and lust dictate her actions. Her thoughts were blanketed, softened like gelatin instead of stone and that was exactly what she wanted. She lay a stack of bits on the shiny new bar and turned away to survey the dance floor.

Flashing, rotating lights of many colors streaked across the reflective tiles and ponies writhing to the beat in the center of the club. Pinkie's gaze fell across them. Several were beautiful and caused a stirring of her loins but they seemed to be taken already or, less often, surrounded by friends. Friends and partners made things difficult and, though they might make Pinkie's mouth water, just weren't worth the hassle of prying them away. It gave the wrong idea when she tried to separate a group.

Pinkie knew what she was looking for, having practiced the art of one night stands in Ponyville before moving out to the city of Bridleton. Ponies were the same everywhere; they wanted companionship.

Bridleton was a new, developing city and many ponies had come here to find a new life, a fresh start. Here, many ponies had abandoned all of their loved ones to try and make something new and exciting. Those ponies would be searching for friends, lovers, or mates: anything to relieve the loneliness.

Upon several prospects did Pinkie Pie pour her attention: a pegasus, a unicorn, and an earth pony. After a moment she realized the pegasus was not interested in mares. She certainly wouldn't do, then.

The unicorn drew more attention, sipping at a drink and attempting to move her hips in tune with the thunderous beat from the loud music. She was kind of cute in her arrhythmic, out of sync motions and it caused Pinkie to giggle to herself. Even if she had no idea how to dance, she was having fun and that kind of excitement was intoxicating.

The unicorn had big, round glasses that flashed blinding beams of white hot light when the rolling colors passed over her. Her mane was fluffy like the stuffing inside of a teddy bear and it flounced as she bounced about the floor. Her minty green coat shimmered with a kind of inner radiance that caused Pinkie to ponder her origins. A crystal pony. Pinkie had never had a crystal pony before. But, as Pinkie watched the unicorn's mannerisms, the ghost of Twilight Sparkle haunted her and that was a massive turn off. She didn't need that mental image or the associated psychological questions. She had enough of those as it was.

The last option was the earth pony. She seemed shy at first glance, standing off to the side of the floor and watching with small, oval eyes that appeared to trap light. She was burnt umber orange and just a tad overweight but heft was never something that really bothered Pinkie. A black choker cinched against her throat. Her hooves tapped gently with a trepidation that wall flowers or the serially undated tended to observe. But, just as Pinkie prepared to check her off the list, there was a tick of pupils onto the rump of another mare and a glimmer of a wry grin that poked at the corners of the pony's mouth. It was a look Pinkie understood; this pony wasn't shy, she was a predator. A wolf among sheep. She was thinking lewd thoughts, the same thoughts Pinkie was.

Well, sort of.

She was the one: a mare looking for a bed, a good time, and carnal company. Pinkie could give her all of that tonight.

Sliding off the barstool, Pinkie's head swam suddenly. The heat of her loins and the fire in her belly warmed her, filling her with tingling prickles. It felt nice. But she was looking forward to how she would feel later intertwined with this pretty mare. Her desires, though rare, controlled her actions when they reared their collective head. She was compelled to the company of a mare, maybe a stallion. It really didn't matter; she wouldn't know them for more than a night anyway. That was part of why she left Ponyville for this up and coming town: Pinkie was growing a reputation that was beginning to be difficult to overlook, even for an element.

So she had left it all behind: Ponyville, her friends, and her duties as an element. All to chase an insatiable urge in a place where nopony knew her name and an endless cascade of fresh faces flowed in and out of town. Here, she could be free of popularity and small town gossip.

She could finally be herself and feed that hunger that crawled up from deep inside.

She could satiate her desires.

Her steps were uneven at first, her legs getting used to the tilting room, but they quickly found the rhythm and Pinkie flowed through the dancing ponies like a shadow, just another forgetful face.

Pinkie was behind the dark orange mare in a series of quick steps and whispered into her ear, "Mmmm, you look good enough to eat."

The earth pony jerked slightly, the feel of warm breath on the nape of her neck startling her. She didn't recoil however, simply turned with one lifted eyebrow. Her eyes searched Pinkie's body and then flipped to her face. The mare's lips turned up in an interested smirk.

"Y'all make a habit of sneakin' up on somethin' ya like?" She said in a thick Appleloosan accent. Pinkie liked accents but it reminded her of her cousin Applejack. Not that it was such a bad thing. Aj had gotten very drunk after her relationship with Rainbow Dash had ended and Pinkie had…

"Who says I like you? I like those curves, that lusty, stalking look in your eye, and the smirk I put on those country lips, but I don't need to like you to enjoy those things." Pinkie knew this mare was looking at her like a piece of ripe fruit but that was ok. The honesty between them was understood immediately. "Or are you the kind of mare that has to know the entire backstory of the treat she has in her mouth?"

The umber pony grinned, dark cheeks turning darker as they flushed. She moved close, wrapping her forelegs around Pinkie's shoulders and falling into a rhythm with the music. The smell of alcohol was strong and she raised an eyebrow. "Y'all are two sheets to the wind already, sweet tater. Think a skinny little thing like you can handle a real mare in yer state?"

Pinkie had to admit she liked being called skinny. She had lost some weight since coming here from Ponyville, but she had never in her life been called skinny.

"I haven't failed yet, Sugar Cube," Pinkie used the term Aj had used for Rainbow and her hoof fell to the flank of the bigger mare and squeezed. There was stout, strong muscle beneath a healthy and enticing layer of chub that enhanced the curve of her body. "My name is…"

Pinkie found lips on hers, pressing and wet. The strength of the mare would have caused her to tumble to the floor if she wasn't wrapped in her forelegs.

She was a little taken back but melted in the moment and leaned into the kiss, accepting the exploring tongue of the mare into her mouth and rolling it with her own wiggling, dripping tool. Both moaned and mewed gently into each other until the big mare broke the kiss.

"I don't wanna know yer name, Sweet Tater. I ain't a bit a' good at relationships." Her eyes were narrowed, hiding scars from the past behind a curtain of anonymity.

"That's pretty fast. I don't think I've seduced anypony this quickly," Pinkie smirked, teasing her.

"Don't go flatterin' yerself too much. Yer cute an' all but I ain't got a lot of time. An' I don't want ta hurt y'all by gettin' attached," she answered. Pinkie could see this mare had demons. Didn't everypony? Whatever they were, she couldn't have love, even if she wanted it. Lust however… "But I am a hell of a fuck. I ain't from round here. Gotta go ta yer place if y'all want a life changin' lay."

Perfect.

Pinkie was in a bit of a daze between the alcohol and the intoxication of the mare's lips but the knife edge of adrenaline slid through the fog and she nodded. "It's a little bit of a walk but I have a place if you don't mind the smell of sugar and cake."

The mare chuckled, "Do y'all really think I wouldn't like the smell of cake?" Taking Pinkie in again with another staggering kiss, albeit short, she pulled away. "Lead on, Tater. I got an early ride outta town an' I wanna have as much fun as I can with ya until then."

Pinkie felt a stirring in her abdomen but it wasn't until the chill air of the late fall outdoors hit that she felt the accumulation of moisture on her nethers. She wanted, needed this tonight. It had been over a month since her last encounter and she felt cramped, balled up inside with a burning desire that even the cold drifting down from the Crystal Empire couldn't smother. Pinkie didn't want a special somepony just as this mare didn't. Anonymity was good. It protected them both.

The heavy thump of music began to dwindle as Pinkie led her new friend away from the club and down the sidewalk. Painted in ochre from the flickering lamps, they observed one another with quick glances. Just two strangers agreeing to find a moment together. Beneath the desire was a layer of shame that neither wanted to acknowledge.

In the distance a train rolled into Bridleton station. It was a sound Pinkie had come to know as her home was close to the tracks. She rarely noticed it anymore. It was funny the things one could get used to, no matter how disruptive or frightening they might be to others.

"Tater, if y'all live near the station, I might have time ta share breakfast with ya. I fix a mean sourdough biscuit if ya like'em," the mare said, cooking her head in the direction of the station and mapping where she was in relation to it.

"What makes you think I'm going to let you sleep over tonight?" Pinkie bumped into the larger mare with her shoulder playfully, ice blue eyes shimmering under the limited light of a waning moon and drawing a snicker from her companion.

"I'll have the run of the place after I wear y'out, Tater. I ain't met a mare yet who can keep up with me," she beamed with pride and bounced back into Pinkie, knocking her a step away and similarly earning a laugh from the pink mare. "You can call me Sugar. I like when y'all say it."

"We'll see, Sugar," the pink pony replied.

There was silence for a few blocks except for the clack of their hooves. Neither wanted to admit the guilt that wound through them like barbed wire. It wasn't sexy to admit, but both could feel it deep down. It stifled the conversation. Sugar was the first to break the silence, offering something, anything to get her mind off the indecency that she was about to commit.

"Yer so pretty, Tater. Wish I was colorful like y'all. I'm this dark, dead leaf color."

Pinkie brushed the magenta curtain of mane from her eye and looked her over. "It's what's inside that matters, Sugar, and I can tell I like you already. Coloring doesn't matter to me. I'm sure you are beautiful inside. A good pony."

"I ain't good, Tater. But that don't matter none tonight," Sugar replied, slumping slightly.

"Ahh… okay. Sounds like you have something on your mind. Want to talk about it?" Pinkie Pie asked, casting a questioning look at Sugar.

"Nah, don't worry about it. Just some family stuff back home," Sugar looked away.

"I don't think that's it. Seems like some Sugar stuff. Go ahead, talk. We've still got a bit of a walk left," Pinkie said.

Sugar seemed to struggle with herself for a moment but finally spoke, "I don't like lyin', Tater, but I've lied ta many friends n' family ta be here tonight." She paused and traced Pinkie's face with her eyes, searching her for something. "I have ta because they don't… they don't know what I am."

"What? Gay? Bi? Something like that?" Pinkie asked, trying to put the puzzle together. Sugar only nodded.

"They'd be ashamed if'n they knew the things I do." There was sadness in her voice, shame.

Pinkie understood now why she wanted to be nameless. It was hard for a nameless pony to have rumors whispered about her to closed-minded ponies.

"Yeah, I… I understand," Pinkie said, looking away for a moment and taking a sharp breath. "We can't help what we like. What we need. The things we are missing in our lives and find in others. I have secrets too, Sugar, that the ponies who love me wouldn't understand."

Sugar grabbed Pinkie and pushed her against a wall, drowning her in hot, sopping kisses. They were alone on the street but it didn't matter if they weren't; they could be themselves in Bridleton. The town where nopony knew anypony. She moved down her neck, lips pressing and sucking on the slender pink area just below Pinkie's jawbone and extracting velveteen mewls from her.

Pinkie lost herself in the heat and for a moment, just an instant, she felt whole. A moment could last an eternity but, in Pinkie's experience, it was the width of an unspoken thought and then she was back in herself: a jigsaw puzzle from a discount store with most of the pieces missing. Maybe they were stolen. Maybe they were simply never there but, on occasion, the company of others filled the gaps and completed the image.

But never long enough to decipher what the picture was.

Pinkie lifted Sugar's chin and took her into her mouth again but broke it off quickly. "You have a train to catch in the morning, remember? Do you want to waste time here or at home where my tongue can be of better use?"

Sugar smirked. She liked this pink mare. Maybe too much. She wanted to see her again. "Bourbon flavored. I knew you were the kind of mare to get straight to the point and not pussy around with mixed drinks."

"I take what I want, Sugar. I'm not the type to hint," Pinkie pushed the mare back and they shared an eager grin before moving down the cold, empty streets again.

The chill north wind blew in, a gelid hand causing them to shiver as they turned down one street and then another. It promised the coming winter would be arduous. "How much further, Tater?" Sugar asked. The cold was getting to her, her lips already felt chapped.

"Not much. My street is coming up. It's at the edge of town close to the tracks," Pinkie replied and trudged on, wishing she had thought to bring a scarf.

"How'd y'all know I was catchin' a train in the mornin'?" Sugar cast a questioning eye to Pinkie who giggled.

"You practically told me, Sugar. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you were taking a train when you said, 'you live near the station? I can stay for breakfast.'" Pinkie shook her head playfully. "Your hick is showing."

Sugar blushed with embarrassment and shrugged. "Gotta cover my tracks most of the time. I couldn't be seen with a mare like you back home," she admitted with a pang of guilt.

"Intelligence a real turn off in the sticks?" Pinkie teased.

"Y'all know what I mean," she replied playfully.

"Yeah, I guess I do. This is my street."

The pair turned onto a work in progress. The side of the street they were in was furnished with brick buildings stacked into a long, neat row. Some were a single story while others had another above. Almost all of them had large windows with fanciful writing to advertise the name of the business. It was a new, beautiful front of an expanding town.

The other side was a series of small homes with a checkerboard pattern of new and old. Many were built fifty years ago when Bridleton was little more than a town to itself, subsisting on the local farmers. But with the resurgence of the Crystal Empire, it had begun to grow substantially. Many ponies were moving to Bridleton and housing was slow to catch up to the need.

Skeletons of houses, frames in the darkness, lay against a forest that had been cut back to make room for new construction. Behind the row of new and old structures the train chuffed by loudly, rattling the ribs of the house frames. Sugar cast an eye to the noise and watched the headlight of the train flash the shadows of trees against the unlit buildings.

"Kinda loud ain't it?" Sugar asked, flattening her ears against her head.

"You get used to it. I barely notice it anymore," Pinkie responded and paused before a two story building. She smiled sweetly. "This is me."

The building was brick like all the others with a glass inlaid door and matching window that was large enough for several ponies to stand abreast and browse comfortably. The window and the door were frosted with the words, 'Pinkie's Cakes and Treats'. On the other side of the glass in the darkened confectionery was a display filled with a multitude of sweet goodies on shimmering glass trays and stands.

Sugar regarded the name of the store and sighed softly. "So much for not knowin' yer name, Tater."

Pinkie shrugged and laughed as she fished a key from a small purse on her hip and stuck it into the lock. With a click and a clack the door swung open. The heavenly scent of syrup, icing, and mixed flavors held thick in the air like an invisible, appetizing fog. "Oh… you make all these, Tate err… Pinkie?"

"Yeah. I name fresh every morning the stuff I know is going to sell out. I usually have to be up at 4am in order to be ready by 7 when I open, but tomorrow is Sunday. That's my day off." Pinkie replied, pleased that Sugar enjoyed her business. "Maybe if you are as good as you say, I'll make you a sample bag to eat on the way home tomorrow. Give you an excuse to come back sometime."

Sugar had closed in on the display case and was looking over the selection. The details caught her eye. She appreciated the finer aspects of things and was astounded at the tiny flowers, hearts, suns, and other tiny decorations. "These're really well done, Pinkie. I always wanted ta paint but aside from my family callin' it a sissy hobby, I ain't never had the coordination fer it." Sugar squinted into the case with a real, genuine smile across her features.

Pinkie moved silently and draped herself over the mare, which she easily supported. "I am happy you like what I do for a living but did you come to sample cupcakes or something else?" Pinkie bit Sugar's ear roughly, enticingly.

"Ooh, yer a little wild ain't ya?" Sugar twisted her neck to playfully bite at Pinkie just above the collarbone, nipping at the soft flesh beneath the pink coat, sucking it into her mouth, and tonguing it.

"Let's go downstairs, Sugar," Pinkie breathed and pulled away.

"Downstairs? Like a basement?" Sugar asked, her word turning up at the end.

"Yeah. It's the warmest part of the house and there's something I want to do," Pinkie grinned and wiggled her rump as she disappeared through a double acting door. Sugar could see a kitchen on the other side and stood dumbfounded momentarily but pushed through the door in pursuit soon after.

The kitchen was full of baking utensils hanging from overhead tracks, a couple prep tables, several refrigerators, and a wall with several silver ovens. Steel mixing bowls of various shapes and sizes were stacked on a counter with a variety of molds, pans, and shaped cookie cutters. The sweet scent of assorted fruit fillings and toppings tickled Sugar's muzzle. The far side of the room had a set of wooden stairs leading up but what was at the top was lost to the darkness. Sugar looked back to Pinkie waiting at another, single action door.

It was very stout and made of dark wood like oak or walnut. Strangely, at the top just inside Pinkie's reach was a bolt lock that the confectioner was struggling to open. She twisted the dark steel knob up and down, working the bolt free a little at a time.

"Why is there a lock on this door?" Sugar asked, her features screwing up.

Pinkie looked back at her. There was an uncomfortable pause before the pink pony turned her attention back to the lock. She spoke matter-of-factly, the sensual tone in her voice gone. "I use the basement as a store room. It has to stay dry or else there is a risk of mold. And," her voice flatlined, all jocularity disappeared, "it's where I keep the ponies I foalnap."

Sugar stepped back quietly, assessing her ability to run for the door if Pinkie proved to be some kind of weirdo. Sugar murmured some kind of noncommittal response but it was soft and weak. A hard ball suddenly appeared in her stomach. Something seemed… off.

Pinkie began to laugh raucously and the bolt snapped free of the bracket. Pinkie's grin was wide and mirthful as she faced the bigger mare. "Scared you, didn't I?" She said and fell back against the frame, her eyes slitting seductively as the smile faded to a sexy pout. "Don't you want to play with me, Sugar?"

Sugar weakly smiled, the clenching of her stomach released but a feeling of doubt still hung in her heart like cheap wallpaper. "I… I don't know, Pinkie. Maybe I should go. "

Real hurt filled Pinkie's eyes and she slowly moved toward Sugar. "Hey, I was just joking. I'm… I'm sorry if I scared you. I thought it would be… I don't know, cute." She paused just outside of reach and sagged. She hoped she hadn't screwed up. Sugar was beautiful and Pinkie was looking forward to fulfilling her desires with the mare. She was so strong and curvy, whetting Pinkie's needs until they were almost painful.

Sugar seemed still uncertain and Pinkie nodded to herself slowly. "Listen… I'm not the best at this sometimes. I get excited and say stupid things. I… I can play the flirty mare but I'm kind of a goof, really. Talking sexy… well, I've kind of learned to do it but I mess it up still." She gently reached out and touched Sugar's hoof with her own. "I really want to do this with you, Sugar. I'm sorry if I said something dumb. I thought I was being mysterious." She smiled weirdly, demurely. She was like a child who had been caught in a lie and was ashamed of it.

Sugar looked Pinkie over again, searching her body for information, for a glimpse of her intentions. A deep sigh released like the pressure of an over pumped tire releasing and she laughed to herself. She took the hoof and pulled Pinkie to her, kissing her playfully. "I ain't always good at it either. Truth is, I try ta act tough and sure of myself but I've only done this a few times. I'm… I'm still learnin' ta trust, Pinkie. Learnin' what I am. I'm glad it ain't just me that can say somethin' dumb."

Rolling her head beside Sugar's, Pinkie wrapped her in her forelegs and nuzzled into her neck. The warmth was nice but it did little to fill the hollow within Pinkie.

Sugar rested her forelegs around Pinkie, holding her close, kissing her neck and cheek with tiny, butterfly kisses. Pinkie returned them like dew on morning flowers and they held one another for a moment.

Pinkie felt like a rotten tree trunk. She could tell Sugar a thousand sweet things but she didn't mean any of them. She just wanted to get off, to burn this caustic need that ate her guts like acid. She would say whatever it took to get what she wanted. "Do you still want to this?" She asked as hollowly as she felt.

"Yeah. I want you, Pinkie. Even if it's just for tonight I want to pretend yer mine," a tear rolled down Pinkie's neck, having slipped from Sugar's cheek. Pinkie earnestly wished she could care. She pulled away instead and slapped a knowing, lusty smile on her face.

"One problem with that, Sugar. Tonight you belong to me!" She snickered and turned, presenting her flank to the big mare, moving her tail to flash what lay beneath.

Sugar, shaking her head and chortling to herself, slapped the exposed rump. The resulting moan caused her to grow moist and follow Pinkie as she disappeared down the basement stairs.

The basement was finished and appeared as just another kitchen albeit without as many appliances. The floor was tiled with off-white cream swirled clay tiles like the kitchen above. In place of the wall of ovens was a large brick structure that dominated the corner of the room. A boiler sat across from it that hummed and filled the room with a swaddling heat that was welcome after the cold trek through town. There was a black cauldron that smelled of caramel. Inside was coated with a thin, syrupy skin of sugary sweetness.

One wall was piled with various sacks of resources: sugar, salt, flour, and several smaller bags that smelled of clove, cinnamon, and other spices.

Above the sacks was a long wooden shelf that spanned the length of the wall and several ornaments sat upon it. A vase containing a couple long, blue feathers, a worn, leather-colored cowboy hat, a bracelet of multicolored stones, and several other small trinkets.

"I like that hat," Sugar said and motioned with her chin towards it. Pinkie smiled at the wall.

"That's my memory shelf. All those items were given to me by somepony I cared about. It helps me remember them. But, that's not why we are here, " Pinkie licked her lips and pulled Sugar into the center of the room by the black, woven choker around her neck, leaning in and whispering into her ear, "Right now I want to fuck you, Sugar."

She led Sugar to a steel prep table empty of any and all utensils in the middle of the room. Beneath it was a small drain in a sloped depression. Sugar looked at it and surmised it was in case of flood and noticed a slight angle to the floor that led to the drain. It reminded her of the sump pump back home. She didn't have time to think more about the surroundings as her rump touched the warm metal of the prep table.

Pinkie pushed forward and brought her lips into contact with Sugar's, immediately implanting her tongue to wrap the slick muscle inside. Her hooves searched and caressed Sugar's body down to the hips and inside the pelvic v of her abdomen. The touch caused Sugar to gasp but Pinkie slid a hoof behind her head, pulling her back into the dripping honey pot of her mouth. Pinkie refused to break the lapping, twisting of intertwined tongues, guiding Sugar up and onto the prep table so that she was sitting with her back legs hanging off, head tugged forward and down into oral embrace.

Pinkie finally popped off of Sugar wetly and grinned devilishly as the big mare sucked in air with a lost look in her eyes. Her cheeks were bright red. Pinkie kissed her way down Sugar's chest and tummy, tickling the slight pudge that lined her taught, strong muscle. She continued to slide down agonizingly slowly, her ice blue eyes locked with Sugar's. She paused just above the vulva mound and kissed the slight tuft of fur. "I'm going to show you how to make all the mares beg to bed you Sugar. Are you ready?"

Sugar's chest heaved, her body tingling and dripping in anticipation. "Yeah… please, Pinkie," she muttered, a tremor running through her as the excitement built, shocking her spine and sending electric chills through her extremities.

Pinkie's hoof came up and pressed into her chest, easing her upper body down to the steel while Pinkie pressed her muzzle into Sugar's belly and snaked a slavering tongue into the soft flesh, leaving a glistening trail of saliva leading down to her pubic mound.

Pinkie's ears perked and took in the most minute sound: Sugar's bated breath hanging on the precipice of want, need and the satisfaction of that first luscious stroke, the thunderous clap of her racing heart, and the nearly imperceptible gurgle of her innards just inches beneath the rising, trembling belly. She savored the moment, allowing it all to run into her like rain to a storm drain swallowing rain water. Sugar was scared, horny, and indelicately awaiting Pinkie.

Pinkie lay her lips mere inches above the running sex, the heat burning her throat as she kissed the tuft of fur once more. Sugar's legs twitched and a pained whimper eased from her as her big orange eyes gazed down in near panic. She was tingling and would cum quickly from the teasing. Her mind was consumed with what Pinkie could give her and it would drive the big mare off the edge of that cliff at full speed. That near-insane look was what Pinkie had been waiting on. It was time to release Sugar from her suffering.

Pinkie's tongue dipped into the steaming vulva, penetrated the plush folds even as they gripped around the pink, roiling muscle. Her upper lip rested on the bright, twinkling, cherry-like clitoris. The anticipation led Sugar to moan immediately with sweet, syrupy exultation and her cushioned petals salivated around Pinkie's quivering instrument a musky, brine that the pink mare found oddly pleasant: a strange blend of what tasted like sweat and guava juice with a distinct salty sweet flavor.

The taste made enjoying the act much easier despite it doing very little for Pinkie. She would get her turn and the desires burning in the front of her mind and down her scorching lower lips would finally release.

But, even if cunnilingus wasn't the most arousing act for her, Pinkie knew it would be worth the trouble to watch Sugar melt before her skills.

Pinkie's forelegs came from beneath Sugar's thighs and wrapped over them, bringing her hooves down on each pelvic bone. Sugar had begun to squirm and moan in a strange squirrel-like chattering and Pinkie wanted to anchor the mare's waist to keep her from falling from the table as well as to make it easier to lash the tender spots that Pinkie was finding that produced reactions as her swirling, twirling tongue sought deeper treasures within Sugar's sopping sex.

"Pin…oh! Fu…Pink," Sugar couldn't get a single complete word out let alone a full sentence and Pinkie hummed a chuckle that vibrated against the swollen clit, causing Sugar's hips to arch and lift the small of her back off the table. Pinkie felt this more than saw it, her eyes closed to aid in focusing on the job at hoof. She moaned in long, intentionally monotonous hums that caused a nearly constant vibration to run through Sugar's love bump.

Sugar's rump contracted and brought her thighs around Pinkie's head roughly. The soft layer of fat cushioned the squeezing muscles but the raw strength in Sugar's legs crushed Pinkie from both sides. She pried at them with her hooves to relieve the pressure. Sugar seemed lost in the moment and was likely unaware of the discomfort she was causing. Pinkie knew that meant Sugar was about to orgasm.

Sugar's chittering and groaning continued as her hips bridged upward higher. Her front hooves came down to grab Pinkie's head and pull her deeper into her squirming vulva. She gasped, lungs crying out in burning agony as a wave of pleasure unlike anything she had experienced crashed her body like a jenga tower. Her vagina clenched and spasmed in intense pleasure that dipped into pain. She wanted to scream but her body locked so firmly that she could only shudder and tense. Her jaw constricted enough to cause the joint to ache and her ears to ring.

Pinkie didn't like having her head grabbed but Sugar was so strong that there was little she could do. When the solid pony orgasmed it was like being caught in a vice. A vice that spewed guava scented juice down her throat on both the inside and outside. She swallowed the flavorful liquid out of both arousal and necessity. Sugar's body crushed Pinkie against her and there was no pulling free. Her muzzle was smashed against the lowest part of her pubis, blocking her nostrils. She had to swallow the sweet flood and hope Sugar would release her before she ran out of breath and passed out.

Pinkie had to unsubtly smack Sugar's thighs with her hooves to be released as the orgasm eased away and a wailing moan finally broke free of the full body spasm. Pinkie, for just a moment, was angry. But she recognized the teeming moan laced with intense pleasure. Sugar had never experienced something like that and the anger died almost immediately. It was, after all, a compliment.

Sugar sucked air in large heaving breaths. The orgasm had wore her body out harder than a twelve hour workday back home. She felt weak and tired, jelly-like. "Oh Celestia," she said between bouts of breath, "I thought I might die for a moment. What the… what the fuck did y'all do to me, Pinkie? I don't think I've ever cum so…" Sugar shrieked suddenly as Pinkie's tongue corkscrewed against her anus.

Pinkie's lips wrapped the other hole tightly as she made her tongue stiff and spun it like a drill bit cutting into a safe. The initial shock caused Sugar's rear to tighten but Pinkie's determination opened it regardless of the clench. Pinkie moaned, actually enjoying eating ass. There was something about it, about sexualizing the end of the digestive tract, that turned her on and caused several sticky drops of her own fluid to mark the floor beneath.

Sugar found the new sensation strangely pleasant and softened her flank by pulling her legs up with her abdominal muscles, letting Pinkie's driving tongue deeper into her puckering exit. One of Pinkie's hooves rubbed back and forth quickly over her bulging clit which caused her to flatten herself against the table and grunt in ecstacy. She had never experienced this before and hadn't planned on it. The thought of asking another mare to put their tongue there hadn't crossed her mind. But it was nice, especially with the hoofjob to support it.

Pinkie sucked at Sugar's star hungrily. She was thankful that Sugar was clean, but she would have done it regardless. Her fluids were not just drops any longer but a trickle of lubricating juices puddling on the tile. With one hoof stroking Sugar's sensitive cherry, she only had one left to roughly and quickly stroke herself. She was careful not to get herself off and only cultivate the lust and pleasure.

"Pinkie, yer so fuckin' good. Y'all're ruinin' other mares fer me! Oh! Fuck, Pinkie!" Sugar exclaimed in a warbling, harried voice.

Pinkie continued to corkscrew her tongue inside Sugar's twitching rump. The taste of flesh filled her mouth and she had to pull her hoof away from her tingling cooter. She focused instead on getting Sugar off again, pushing the tip of one hoof inside the flexing vagina before her eyes. The other continued to attack the fleshy node nestled at the hood.

Sugar's moans began to draw out in length and volume, rising like flood waters. It only spurred Pinkie on, digging the full extent of her tongue into Sugar's butt. Pinkie opened her jaws and pushed forward, earning an extra inch inside Sugar and the squawls crescendoed.

The basement walls were surrounded by earth and that was the only reason the decibel of Sugar's scream from her second orgasm wasn't heard outside the confectionery.

Pinkie shut her eyes as Sugar sprayed her with ejaculate. That guava-salt scent was incredibly strong and Pinkie retrieved her tongue from Sugar's rectum with a sticky pop sound only to dive directly onto the visibly throbbing clit.

Sugar was feeling light headed and the sudden change caused the room to spin. She felt weak, tired, but so incredibly horny that she let herself go limp on the steel table. Pinkie could do with her what she wanted. The spasming orgasms had caused muscles throughout her body to become sore but it didn't matter. There was no fight left in her, just the glory of being a slave to the pleasure Pinkie was giving her. She mewled and squeaked, too weak to fully voice the intense, almost painful sensation swallowing her. She desperately wanted to tell Pinkie how this was the best experience of her whole life. "Too…good. Yer…oh fuck," was all she could manage.

Pinkie assaulted Sugar's love bump directly, tongue spinning around the drooling chickpea viciously. Pinkie had to shoulder Sugar's limp legs as she worked magic with her mouth. Sugar seemed to protest but was at Pinkie's mercy and the pink pony had no sympathy.

Pinkie watched carefully. Sugar's legs were already quivering. She wouldn't be able to stand very well after this. The strong, stout mare was obviously exhausted and Pinkie hadn't had her turn yet. The need was in control. Lust, or more specifically, that feeling of being different, of being alone, chewed Pinkie like a wad of cotton candy gum. Her turn was coming. Sugar was almost where Pinkie wanted her.

The pink pony doubled down, spurred on by the empty agony. She sucked on Sugar's clitoris while rocking her tongue across it. Sugar's moans were building and her limp, noodle legs engaged pathetically, unable to lift and simply shook. The final frenzy was coming. Pinkie reached beneath the table, finding the item that was bound to the underside via powerful magnet. It was always there, a welcome friend, the silent, third partner in her lovemaking.

Sugar squawled pitifully and shook in full body spasm once more. It racked her for several seconds and finally she fell back and sucked air, tears dripping down her cheeks. "Stop, Tater… please. I need a break."

Pinkie lifted her soaked head from Sugar's nethers and lay it on her abdomen, listening to the groaning, churning, and gurgling coming from within. It was spectacular. She loved that sound. She kissed the belly gently and rubbed it with one hoof, imagining what lay on the other side. "My turn, Sugar?" She asked gently.

"Yeah, baby. Give me…give me a minute," Sugar replied through big breaths. "Think we have time ta do this again in the mornin'?"

"If we wake up early enough," Pinkie's eyes were fixed just below the top of the hips where the tummy was softest. "You liked that?" She purred.

"I…I've never cum like that, Pinkie," Sugar confessed. She smiled at the pitter patter kisses on her belly but didn't have the energy to reciprocate. She just lay, head a mess of thoughts. "I'd like ta see ya again. I… I can't come to Bridleton too much or my family'll suspect somethin', but if y'all wanted somethin' steady, I'd be here as much as I could," Sugar said.

"Whatever you want, Sugar," Pinkie's words were empty, distracted.

"Don't call me that. I ain't never gave my real name, Pinkie. But I think yer special. I want ta be with y'all as much as I can," Sugar hesitated, lost in the conflict of her sexuality. "My real name is Aub…"

In one swift move Pinkie freed the blade from its magnetized home beneath the table, swung it overhead, and sank it to the handle in Sugar's abdomen just beneath her ribs.

Sugar screamed as pain tore through her senses like a wildfire through a drought starved forest. Her limbs tried to kick but they were all useless, exhausted from the sex. Before the adrenaline could release from her sudden panic, Pinkie had unzipped the country pony from rib to vagina. Her belly splaying open in a great rift down the center. Blood ran in incarnadine rivers and fell to the floor, forming flowers of crimson against the off-white tile.

Sugar couldn't understand what was happening. Hadn't they just shared an intense moment? Had she upset Pinkie by asking for some time to recover? A thousand thoughts spun in her mind but none truly mattered. Her chief priority was to escape.

She saw Pinkie biting her lip with a wry, sleek grin splayed on her face as if she were enjoying what she had done. Sugar should have listened to her gut earlier when she was skeptical of entering the basement. Didn't matter. Have to escape.

Rolling to her side and flailing off the prep station, she crashed and collapsed against the hard floor. Sugar held the chasm that once had been her tummy with one hoof. Great pale, snaking cords of intestines spilled from the massive wound and a sickening, raw meat and feces odor filled her nasal cavity, gagging her. That smell was her, she knew, her insides and what she had eaten for dinner the night before nearing the end of the digestive process. That smell also meant Pinkie had ruptured her bowels.

"Sugar, don't run. It's only going to make things worse for you. I'm only going to rearrange your guts. That's what you were looking for, right?" Pinkie teased, following the mare. Sugar's lifeblood glistened on the knife just like her sexual fluid danced in the light all across Pinkie's face. Her eyes were harsh dots of madness and desire.

"No! Leave me alone, ya crazy bitch!" Sugar cried, kicking herself up to her hooves and awkwardly dragging herself away. Adrenaline had finally kicked in, providing necessary energy but the terrible wound had ruined muscles normally used as secondary walking mechanisms and her legs jerked oddly without their aid. More of her organs fell like netting to the floor as she released the wound to flee. A heap of red, purple, and white ropes dragged behind her like fishing nets trolled from a boat, leaving blood, feces, and green bile trailing.

With each beat of Sugar's heart, streams of red liquid squirted across the tile. Pinkie bit into her lip once more, drawing her own blood. Her thighs were dark with vaginal fluid. The sheen on the intestines caused Pinkie to seep and sop. "Your guts are so fucking hot, Sugar. I told you it was what was on the inside that counts. Celestia, I knew you were beautiful but fuck… I'm almost ready to cum just looking at them!"

"Get away!" Sugar screamed, fighting her way towards the stairs but with each step the world grew dimmer. She didn't notice when she fell the first time, her consciousness beginning to flicker like a dying flame. She struggled to get up again, finding her back legs had gone numb. Instead, she pulled her body closer to the stairs with just the power of her forelegs.

"I don't want to see you suffer, Sugar. I… I don't like that, really. It doesn't do a thing for me," Pinkie explained, crouching beside the frightened mare. "I'm sorry. Really, I am. I hate to waste you like this but… I need to feel complete, to feel loved. And fucking your dead body will give me that for a little while." Pinkie stroked Sugar's firey, orange mane and leaned down, kissing her forehead.

Sugar was fading quickly. She didn't have the strength to pull anymore. She didn't know what was happening and her fight or fight instinct evaporated to confusion. Her breathing was slowing and the burning pain in her abdomen was suddenly numb. Cold was creeping through her like frost across a valley of flowers. Pinkie had said something to her but the words were strange, distorted.

Sugar found herself on her back again, looking up into the sweet, pink face of the beautiful mare she had lain with. Ma and Pa would disown her if they knew. But she liked Pinkie. She was beautiful and artistic. Sugar smiled gingerly as Pinkie kissed her.

Maybe. Maybe she was the one, Sugar thought to herself as she began to drift off into sleep. Maybe she could be finished with the hiding and sneaking. Pinkie was different. She was worth leaving that life of lies behind.

Sugar's muscles went slack as the life drained from her eyes, staring straight into Pinkie's. Pinkie sighed, she had liked Sugar. But, she needed this. It wasn't a choice any longer. She needed to cum; she needed to feel close to another pony and fill the hole inside her.

A tear fell from Sugar's eye and Pinkie leaned down to suck it into her mouth. It was salty. She kissed the unmoving lips, lapping at the still tongue inside.

Now it was her turn.

She turned and straddled Sugar's face, parting her slick pussy lips around the cooling muzzle. Her hips engaged and she bucked, riding Sugar's face and moaning blissfully. Her juices fell like rain down Sugar's cheeks in rivulets and pooled around her head as glazing, lifeless eyes stared unseeing at the rump grinding before them.

Digging her hooves into the open wound, Pinkie pulled out the intestinal rope in long stretches to drape around her shoulders and neck. She loved how they glistened: shiny and wet. Her tongue reached out and stroked them, pulling them into her lips and biting until they burst and filled her mouth with an earthy, greasy flavor. She swallowed greedily and rubbed the bloody tubing across her body as she writhed over Sugar's muzzle.

Before long, Pinkie was crying out in ecstasy as the first of several orgasms hit her like a tsunami. The steam coming from the disemboweled cavity of Sugar's abdomen had finally ceased and her body was cooling rapidly but Pinkie continued to explore and use it for nearly an hour after it had grown cold.

Pinkie breathed hard, her coat a mess of various colors and fluids as she dragged Sugar closer to the boiler where heat resonated and warmed the room. She was hard to drag because Sugar was a massive mare and Pinkie had to take a break before getting to the spot she wanted in front of the heating machine.

Finally, she cuddled up to the corpse, laying her head on one shoulder and wrapping her forelegs around Sugar. She was cold now but the boiler would warm her up again soon. Pinkie murmured softly and cuddled up against Sugar. A gentle kiss pecked the mare's cheek and Pinkie whispered, "Thanks, Sugar. I'm glad you are going to stay with me for a few days instead of heading back home immediately." She sighed happily and kissed her lover again. "I know we just met but… can we pretend we've known each other our whole lives? Yes? Good."

Pinkie eyes the black choker and slipped it over Sugar's head. "For me? Oh, Sugar! How thoughtful. I'll cherish it always."

Pinkie smiled contentedly, cozied up to the still, ruined body, and listened to the boiler as it heated the water inside and dispersed steam throughout the house through steel radiators.

The feel of Sugar's legs around her was hypnotizing and addictive. In a few days their love would have to end but, for now, Pinkie felt whole, complete. It was a feeling she never knew before discovering the joy of sharing organs and cuddling up with somepony. She lovingly kissed Sugar again and realized how tired she really was. She snuggled into the big mare and sighed happily.

"I love you, Sugar. I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight."

Author's Note

I'm sorry I've been away so long. Medical issues have kept me from writing for over a year.

I don't usually write sex in stories but the connection between serial killer and sex is undeniable. I really wanted this Pinkamena to be a tragic monster, not just an unfeeling killer.

I'm not sure if anyone will like this story or not. I hope you do, but I understand if you don't. Thanks for reading all the same.

I Love What You Got

Pinkie was miserable. Sugar was gone. Decomposing to the point that the smell would affect business, Pinkie had been left with no choice than to dispose of Sugar in the fashion she had become accustomed to. Saying goodbye was hard and Pinkie had wept with every cut as she decapitated and dismembered her snugglebug, temporary mate.

Sugar had been a very large, strong pony and Pinkie didn't have the strength to lift her body as a whole. Even without most of her major organs, Sugar needed to be rent in order to be placed in the brick oven where she had been razed to ash, charred bone, and steaming gristle.

The process took time. Days, sometimes a week if the former pony was particularly stubborn or Pinkie failed to maintain the fire in the brick oven attentively. Sugar had burned quickly but there was something about rendering a lover from pony form to a ruined skeleton that always broke Pinkie's heart. It was like breaking up and the pink pony felt the anguish of being alone again. There were no more cuddles, no more sweet kisses, or conversation (even if they were one-sided) to be had.

In the end, Sugar had left her, just like all the others.

Mostly. There was still one step of disposal left but what remained of Sugar wasn't the mare Pinkie had loved so dearly for several days.

Business had been slow after lunch so there were few distractions from Pinkie's broken heart and Pinkie felt every painful beat. She absently leaned upon the cash register, one hoof gently tugging and releasing the black choker Sugar had given her. Her thoughts were on the big mare and how good she felt wrapped in those powerful legs. She wanted to cry but it wouldn't solve anything or make her feel better, so she just watched the empty shop and wished it was closing time. Still three hours to go and then she could sulk in bed until she finally fell asleep, alone.

The door opened, clanging the little silver bell that hung on a coil just above the door. A pair of young colts entered Pinkie's Cakes and Treats. They appeared to be close to the same age and were rattling off inane stupidity like only children could do. She didn't want to deal with this today. Parents should watch their dumb kids and not let them run wild all over town. Pinkie rolled her eyes and said as cheerily as she could muster, "Welcome to Pinkie's Cakes and Treats. What can I get for you today?"

The bigger of the two looked surprised as if he had not known Pinkie was in the room while he defended an assault from the other who was complaining, "Mom said you had too! You can't get yourself something and not one for me!"

"Shut up! You don't deserve anything, whiney," the older one retaliated and pushed the other away.

"I'll tell mom! Then she'll wash your mouth out with soap again!"

"That's for cussing, idiot!"

The smaller colt turned his eyes to Pinkie, the only adult in the room, for help, welling with tears, "Tell him I'm not an idiot and he has to buy me something too!"

The bell chimed again but Pinkie didn't notice, aggravated by these two. "If both of you don't act like civilized ponies, neither of you will get anything!"

The two colts had the audacity to look shocked but they calmed and began to look through the glass display that intersected the room.

Pinkie grumbled to herself silently and sat on a stool by the register once more, waiting for them to be out of her mane. She noticed a third pony in the store, peering into the display on the far end. What struck Pinkie about them was the mop of curly green mane rolled into eclair shaped springs around her head. She appeared to be squinting but it was hard to tell through the mane.

"We could each get two of these, Bub," the young colt said, breaking unintelligible chittering that has been steadily escalating over the last minute.

"Yeah, but those are for foals, not real stallions like me. Real stallions get cupcakes!" The older colt answered.

"Cupcakes? But I like the lemon bars!"

"That's because you're not a real stallion, crybaby."

Maybe it was just how miserable she felt, but Pinkie was beginning to hate the colts. She bit her tongue, afraid that if she spoke she would regret what she said.

The bigger colt sidestepped down the glass, bumping into the green-maned filly and causing her to stumble. The colt quickly looked and chuckled to himself, "Look, Zap. It's One Eye!" he teased. "Why don't you watch where you're going, One Eye? Oh, cause you can't see on this side."

The filly shrunk, tucking her chin and turning her face away from the colts.

"That's not her name! Leave Cuddletini alone, Loop," the younger colt, Zap, replied.

"Oh? She's your marefriend now or something?" Loop switched targets adeptly, obviously used to picking on others.

"I… I'll… I'll tell mom!" Zap's eyes filled with tears, resorting to his only defense.

"Ugly ponies like you and One Eye belong together!" Loop chided, a wry grin pulling his lips up.

The filly at the end remained quiet, just looking at her hooves. She seemed used to insults. Pinkie didn't have any patience left and smacked the case with her hooves.

"You two, buy something or get out!" She said harshly but somehow without screaming. The colts quickly pointed out a couple cupcakes and Pinkie bagged them up, took the money from the shaking hoof of the older one, and watched them open the door and quickly run down the street.

Pinkie sighed and shook her head with frustration. Her cold eyes fell on the child at the end of the display, head still drooping, pastel yellow shoulders slumped. Celestia damn it. Now I have to deal with this shit.

"Hey, kid. Are you okay?" Pinkie asked, doing the best she could to mask the agitation in her voice.

"Yeah. I'm ok," the filly's voice was soft like warm icing and as fragile as hummingbird eggs. But her body remained hunkered forward, green curls blocking her face.

Pinkie moved down the rear of the case to stand on the opposite side from the filly. "Is there something I can get you?" Pinkie asked, wanting the girl gone as quickly as possible. Pinkie just wanted to be alone to wallow in self loathing but now she had to deal with the problems of others.

"Oh… no, I don't have any money," the filly spoke.

No money. Great. Why even bother coming into a confectionery? Pinkie had to grit her teeth and pause the negative thoughts rushing through her mind. "I didn't ask that. Tell me what you want and I'll get it for you."

The child's head popped up, a single gold eye searched Pinkie's face. The right eye was permanently shut by small stitches where her eyelashes met her cheek. An incarnadine scar of churned, swirled flesh marred the eyelid and the forehead up to the line of her mane. Several smaller scars sat like pink islands in the yellow coat of her face. Pinkie recognized it as a burn immediately and winced at the sight. She had been popped by oil a few times and knew the lingering agony of just a drop or two. This filly has probably been in terrible pain for weeks.

A small smile broke across the little pony's lips and she shook her head gently, curls shaking with slight delay. "N-no, it wouldn't be right. I just wanted to see your store. I hadn't noticed it until today."

Pinkie smirked to herself. She was offering a free snack and the filly was refusing. That was odd for anypony let alone a little girl. "Well, I make all sorts of sweets here: cakes, pies, cookies, brownies, just whatever ponies want. Sometimes I make fancier desserts too for special occasions or special orders. But, I haven't been here very long. A couple months?"

"Yeah, I saw you moving in once. You're really pretty," the filly said, her one good eye shimmering and taking Pinkie in.

"Thanks. You live in this neighborhood?" Pinkie smiled for the first time in a few days. It was a real smile.

"I can't tell you that. I d-don't really know you. Teacher taught us not to talk to strangers," she paused and then looked at the stacks of goodies in the display. "Or to take candy from them."

Chuckling, Pinkie watched the little filly. "That's a good practice. You never know what a pony is capable of." The irony was not lost on Pinkie and she had to battle to not laugh.

"Mmmhmm," the filly agreed.

"Is that why you don't want a free sample? Because you aren't supposed to take candy from strangers?" Pinkie asked. "It's my job to make candy, you know. I'm not just standing in an alley or something."

"No, it's because you should pay for things. It wouldn't be right if you gave me one for free," she answered.

Pinkie regarded the small filly and smiled. She was a weird kid. That wasn't bad, though. She had some kind of principle that she didn't want to break. Pinkie actually wanted to give her something now instead of just doing it to shut her up and get her out of the store.

"If you could buy one, what would you pick?" Pinkie asked, watching the girl peer into the display directly before her. "Take your time, there are plenty more to look at all the way down. You let me know when you find the one that speaks to you."

Pinkie walked back to the stool and watched the filly as she perused the case. She couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her that had put her eye out. The lid was flat, indicating that the eye itself had been removed and the lid sewn shut. The girl didn't seem bothered by it and navigated well so it must not have been recent. There was just too much to ruminate on and Pinkie began to talk again.

"If you have any questions, let me know. I made everything in there this morning," Pinkie said.

"Your name is really Pinkie?" She asked, gold eye flipping up to the pink mare. "Like the name of the store?"

Pinkie nodded. "Yep. It's my store. It's not a very clever name I have, is it?"

The filly shrugged and smiled, "I like it. It's a cute name. It would be weird if you were Goldie or something but Pinkie makes sense." She scrunched her face up and gazed at some straw shaped, multicolored snacks on a white plate in the display and looked up questioningly. "What are those?" Her hoof accidentally tapped the glass with a sharp tinkling noise. Pinkie wondered if it were due to her depth perception.

Looking at the candy, Pinkie answered, "Salt water taffy." Pinkie idly wondered what the girl's guts would look like laying on the floor of the basement. They'd probably be small, easily scattered out and run in circles like a garden hose. She touched the choker again. "It's soft and chewy. I have 5 flavors: cherry, lime, berry, cotton candy, and orange."

"Oh… they look neat," she answered and thought for a moment, her concentration evident. "Probably the lime or berry one of those is what I would get because I like trying new things."

"You won't take one for free, so how about we work out a deal?" Pinkie asked, watching the curious filly raise the eyebrow over her missing eye. "Do you know what that is?" She pointed to an old wooden broom leaning in a corner by the counter and a dustbin propped next to it.

"A broom?" The filly asked as if it were a trick question.

"Right. My back is sore today. If you sweep this room for me, I'll give you one of each of the taffies. That way you are working for them and I don't have to sweep with sore back," Pinkie winced to illustrate her point despite there being nothing wrong with her back.

The filly rushed to the broom and began stroking the brushed end across the floor with enthusiasm. She moved in quick, deliberate motions that gathered dirt and dust but without causing a choking cloud. She appeared to be well versed in sweeping.

"What's your name, sweetie?" Pinkie asked, already preparing a bag with the taffy, throwing an extra piece in for good measure. She thought one of those brats had said it earlier but she couldn't remember what it was.

"Cuddletini," she responded, sweeping a small pile of dust and hoof debris into the bin and dutifully dumping it into a bigger trash can.

"That's a pretty name. Definitely not as simple as mine," Pinkie wondered if the girl's family knew where she was. Anything could happen to a filly just running around Bridleton. It wouldn't be hard… just come take a look at this thing down these steps…then guts. A small heap. A delicious pile of shiny tubes, topped with a tiny kidney, ovary, or… oh, her little heart beating its final few times, fluttering in fear as it realized its actions no longer pumped blood to the body and fell silent. Fuck, that was hot.

Her reverie popped like a balloon and she suddenly felt embarrassed. Pinkie realized she was damp down there. She had also missed what the fil…er, Cuddletini was saying. "Huh? What did you say, dear?"

"I said, I like your name. It suits you," Cuddletini looked at the front, nearly swept clean and turned to face the pink mare. "There's not a lot to sweep out here, Pinkie. I don't think it's worth that many pieces of candy."

"There's still back here to get. I'm sure it'll be worth it then, " Pinkie replied and smirked as the girl began stroking the last few feet of the front. Pinkie took a small container of scraps and dumped them on the floor behind the counter to make the filly feel as though she were earning the treats.

Cuddletini finished the front and paused at the entrance to behind the counter, her only eye looking for permission. "Can I come back there?"

"It would be kind of difficult to sweep from out there so I guess so," Pinkie mused, earning a grin from the yellow filly who stepped through and began sweeping the tiny pieces of paper into a pile.

Nopony knows she's here… it would be so easy. I could bring what's left of her up to the bed to cuddle with after I drain her of blood. Fuck, I don't want to be alone tonight. Plus, I could see what's under that sewn eye lid. I wonder if it's all mushy…

"I'm done!" Cuddletini announced, once again bringing Pinkie back from her mind.

"Huh? Oh! It looks so much better up here!" Pinkie smiled and made a show out of looking around. She had done a good job, though.

Cuddletini smiled at the affirmation. "Mama makes me help keep the house clean. I'm good at lots of things!" she beamed.

"Yes, I can see that. Maybe you could take a look at one more thing?" Pinkie said, a wide smile growing on her face. Her heart beat hard in her chest as excitement built.

"Oh, okay," Cuddletini answered.

Pinkie pushed the double action door open and moved through the kitchen. Cuddletini followed but paused to look at all the different instruments, tools, and appliances. "Wow! It's so neat back here! Is this where you make all those yummy things?"

Pinkie was under the yoke of need, barely noticing the filly had spoken. She had moved to the door to the basement and was fidgeting with the bolt. "Yeah…this is where it happens. All the magic… all the…"

What the fuck is wrong with me? She's a filly! Are you really going to do this to a kid? She barely knows life and you are going to end it just to feel less sad for a night or two?

Alcohol would have shut that voice of reason up. Or at least quietened it enough that it wouldn't aggravate her. She needed this… didn't she? The wooden door was warm against Pinkie's forehead. Fuck.

"What did you want to show me?" Cuddletini asked, right behind her.

"What? Oh… just the kitchen," Pinkie bluffed. "I thought you might like to see it."

"Yeah, I like it. I didn't know you needed all this stuff, but the others all say I'm dumb, so maybe I should have," she said, consternation crossing her features.

Pinkie made sure the bolt was locked and turned back to Cuddletini, sighing. She suddenly felt fatigued, as if she had run a marathon. "You seem pretty bright to me, Sweetie. Let's go get that candy."

"Yay!" Cuddletini celebrated and hurried through the door to the front, leaving Pinkie to hate herself.

"You're not that fucked up, yet. You're not that fucked up… not yet," Pinkie fell to her haunches and grabbed her head, running her hooves through her mane and scraping at the flesh covering her skull hard enough to draw a small trickle of blood that got lost in the dark mane. Clenching her teeth and slamming her eyes shut, a tear rolled down Pinkie's cheek. "Get it together. Get your shit together."

And just like that, like a switch being flipped, Pinkie stood once more and calmly followed the filly out to the front. She took the bag and smiled, putting it into Cuddletini's hooves. The girl laughed and wrapped Pinkie's midsection in an incomplete, but tight hug.

"Thank you, Pinkie!" Cuddletini looked up with her golden eye and green mop of mane, a natural smile on her cheeks.

Pinkie couldn't help but smile in return and hugged the filly back. It felt weird but it felt right. It felt good. "You're welcome, Cuddletini."

The filly took her bag of goodies and walked around the counter and toward the door.

"Hey, Cuddletini!" Pinkie called, stopping the filly just as she got to the door. She looked back with the bag in her grinning mouth.

"I bet this floor will need to be swept again tomorrow evening if you wanted to work for some more treats," Pinkie said, inexplicably wanting to see the child again.

Cuddletini nodded happily. The grin could have split her head in half as it grew. "Mmhmmm!" She murmured through the paper treat bag. She waved once more and the bell rang as she exited.

A couple entered the store, forcing Pinkie to focus on business instead of being alone.

***

The pair that entered when Cuddletini had left signaled the evening rush and Pinkie was busy enough to keep her mind occupied until close. Few of the treats remained and what was left would be marked down for quick sale tomorrow.

Pinkie locked the door to her shop and retired to the kitchen, preparing a few batches of dough for the morning and placing them in one of the refrigerators. She then cleaned the kitchen, thinking about the strange girl she had met.

She hoped to see Cuddletini again. There was something about her that Pinkie liked. Maybe it was because she was weird, or damaged like Pinkie, or maybe there was no reason at all. It was hard for her to decipher her own emotions. All she knew was that the girl was interesting to her.

Once the kitchen was sterilized, she only had one more job to close out before she could head upstairs to her apartment. She unbolted the door to the basement.

With each step, the feeling of solitude within her grew like a cancer. The memories of her nights hugged up with Sugar were painful, almost crippling. The basement was incredibly hot. Whether it was the heat or the hurt that took Pinkie's breath she couldn't be certain. But she had to begin the healing process. She needed to say goodbye.

Taking the black choker from her neck, Pinkie began to cry. The tears were cold in the hot room as they spilled down her cheeks like frozen beads. She approached the shelf with Aj's hat, Dash's feathers, and the personal items of several other former lovers slowly, taking in the last few moments with Sugar's ghost.

"I'll never forget you, Sugar. Thanks for everything." Gently she laid the choker between the onyx earring of a stallion named Clutch and the friendship bracelet of a unicorn named Izzy. They were all good memories but saying goodbye was so difficult.

It took a moment for Pinkie to let go of the choker. She patted it lovingly, wiped her eyes, and turned away. There was still work to do but the hard part was over.

The brick oven burned incredibly hot. Had the building been made of wood instead of brick, it would have likely burned from the intense heat pouring from the oven. Pinkie had to use special gloves to open the iron door and squinted as scorching heat blasted against her. The inside of the oven was a glowing mass of bright orange and yellow. The walnut, hawthorn, and oak logs were dense and took forever to catch, but, once they had, they would burn long and extremely hot. Pinkie had come down shortly after the lunch rush to restock the logs in the oven to keep the fire hot enough. A large pot gurgled in the midst of the glowing oven.

Wearing the fire retardant gloves, Pinkie pulled the 80 quart cooking pot to the mouth of the oven with some difficulty. Opening the valve at the top of the clamped cooker, Pinkie had to be careful and wait for the steam and pressure trapped inside to escape in small, controlled bursts before she could release the clamps and open the lid. Inside, she could see yellow tallow bubbling on top.

She used a wooden club to push through the cataract of fat and felt more than saw the gelatinous bones squash beneath the tool. Good, it was done.

Pinkie stirred the pot, feeling all that was left of Sugar collapsing beneath the wood. The high heat and pressure had softened the bones enough to reduce to nothing but stock. The meat she had burned away first overnight. It was soft tissue, easily burnt to nothing in a few hours, but bones took days to soften. She had loaded wood into the oven at least a dozen times over the last three days in order to keep the internal heat high and dispose of Sugar completely. Once she finished beating the bones to goo, she could allow it to cool, mix in more water, and use the nutritious stock to feed her small garden out back.

With some luck, and Sugar's help, the winter vegetables would grow big, strong, and delicious this season.

Diary Entry

Sugar is gone. Just like all of the ones that came before. Once again I'm left with this gnawing emptiness. Some ponies would think it's guilt for what I've done and maybe to some extent they are correct but I'm uncertain. Relating to others has never been my strong suit.

I adopted the smiles, the fake goofiness, the bumble-fuck retardation that kept others from wanting to get close to me. I was their clown though I never wanted to be. Just make them laugh. All surface. Like a rubber ball. Inflated with nothing inside but air. A toy. Their toy to play with and forget once they have used me to their satisfaction.

Is that what love is? Using another? Controlling Others? Surely not… that's not how it is described in stories. But stories are lies to make others feel better. Is the love they profess a beautiful lie to cover what gives true gratification?

I don't think I'll ever know.

I have to pretend to be like them.

That's what I want so that they don't see the real me. The scared me. The one that doesn't understand them or their emotions to one another.

It's frightening to reveal yourself to another. To open your nature for inspection with all the rotten vines and veins that wrap your black papier mache heart. Especially when you can't feel the way they do. If they do.

What if we are all lying to each other? That I'm not alone with my glass grin and fragile farce of affection and the others are just as withdrawn and confused as I am.

I want to love. But how? The only seeking of my heart comes from the candy innards of their pinata bodies. Conversation means nothing. Embraces are graveyards of emotion. Even making love, that term for creating the feeling I so dearly desire, is as empty as the coffins they bury.

Watching their bright eyes dim. Seeing their thoughts through the windows to their soul as I remove their parts; that's the only connection I am ever able to make. Sharing their final moments and becoming romantic with what remains when their spirit departs fills me but, like a broken cup, I leak until there is nothing left but the knowledge that I have ruined another life.

For what, Pinkie? To feel for a few days the luster, the joy others claim to experience all the time? No… I think it's some gross approximation of love. Real love wouldn't be so cruelly obtained. At least that's what I pray.

I'm the problem, I think. There's something wrong with me. I hope so. Surely the others aren't like me. I don't want to think that. Whatever they feel is real, innocent. An innocence I can never understand with the things I've done in my pursuit for this tainted farce.

And yet, while I know I may be the broken piece, I can't stop. Like a Pandora's box I've opened, it cannot be undone. Not on this side of mortality but I cannot bring myself to end my own life. I want to live. I want to love.

I pray one day I may find the strength to send myself through the chimney of my oven as I've sent others. The pain of my body burning away would be a fitting punishment for the malignancy in me. For my hubris in my Frankenstein love.

And though I know it cannot be true, I crave that tortured love I have created because the feeling it gives me is real. No matter how twisted and wrong, I can feel it.

The feeling is like an addiction. A scourge that I cannot shake. Ever since I first felt it coursing through my veins, stirring the dead lump in my chest, I've needed it. I can fight it for a while but I can't control myself when I get so lonely.

Love.

What a bitch.