Author's Note

Sex at the start of the chapter; sorry if that bothers you. Ctrl+F to search for [Sex if Over] to jump past it if you need to.

Anyways, comment on whatever int eh chapter catches your attention.

Ch07 - Half Bakery

Anton yawned hugely, waking to the sensation of Creepette nibbling his ears. It didn’t help that he, apparently, had a minor... ‘stiffness’ issue to work out. Preferably alone.

Crap...

He needed to do something, but his mind was more occupied with what could go wrong. One of the more outlandish possibilities involving something exploding somehow.

Okay, what can I do... bad choice of words, there. Damnit.

His bleary gaze swept across the small room, peering at each of the possibilities. They were, as he saw things, his hooves; his own mouth if he could flex that far; and Creepette. And she was still nibbling his ears, which continued to make the... ‘issue’ ever more noticeable.

Nervously, Anton reached under the covers to take the issue into his own paws... quite literally. He was doing his best to be discreet, but he had no idea if his efforts were enough.

“Uhn-gee?”

Creepette’s worried-sounding voice piped up from next to his ear, prompting him to startle. His paws, rough and unsteady,hadn’t been doing much for him anyways, and the startling only made it worse; half mast was still enough to be embarrassing, but not enough to be easily hidden or discreet.

He could easily feel the shift in her movements as she curiously peered over his shoulder towards the part of the sheets where he was presently trying to hold the doubled lengths of his stallionhood at bay, or at least holding them away from tent-pole position.

“Uh...”

He was having a hard time coming up with what to say, especially since she probably didn’t fully understand what he was doing. He’d have to think fast, but that was difficult with his mind focused on two things: getting ‘finished’ and what to do. His half-focused brain didn’t help at all, leaving him with one option. Babble like a ninny.

“Uh...”

The green mare nosed at the sheets, then gripped them in her teeth. With that accomplished, she began tugging the bedding towards herself, turning in a circle atop the bed and dragging the whole length incidentally across his dual shafts, the sensation a cross between an electric shock and a dull burn. After several seconds, she stopped turning, leaving him still largely covered, and her inside of a large cocoon of quilts around her as she peeped out. She’d left a small hole through which to look out from, her huge, dark eyes glinting brightly in the half-light of the room.

The only thing he could think of aside from his current predicament was, Oh good Goddess that’s fucking adorable! The last thing on his mind however, was what would happen next, he couldn’t possibly fix the problem by himself at this point, and it was beginning to get slightly painful from being up so long. That twinge of pain made him realize how long he’d been awake, at least.

He remembered what had happened earlier in the magma tunnel, but she couldn’t possibly be willing to do that again. Also, even if she was, how would he ask her to? She didn’t have a word for ‘sex’ in her mental library.

The mare continued to stare at him, her muzzle slowly poking further and further from the blanket bundle. After getting her own ears out, she reached, in slow-motion, for his ear once more. Instead of nibbling again, though, she seemed to be drawing him towards the cocoon.

Ooookay, what’s she doing now?

As his forelimbs wrapped around her, she returned the gesture, topping it off with a deep whiff of his neck, sniffling dramatically into the base of his mane. Like a moray eel snatching prey, she yanked him into the cocoon, licking his nose before squirming up beneath him.

Oh... well she may not have a word per se, but... is that really what she thinks it means? Maybe. At this point, he gave up being embarrassed, if she was going to fix his problem, damnit, let her!

He felt her settle in against his body, back pressed in tight against his chest, her mane in his face. The stuffy confines of the bundle made it hard to see, but he could sometimes see the visible red coals of her eyes providing faint light in the dark. He could also smell something else, but it didn’t feel important.

What did seem important was the she had positioned herself, but he couldn’t decide why. He could feel her tail wrapped around his own, a surprisingly strong grasp from it holding him tightly near her.

Had he been in his right mind, he might have pondered how strong her tail was compared to her upper-body strength, but his mind was too clouded with arousal to care about details. He needed his problem fixed. And soon.

His mind clouded further when he realized that she was, ever so slightly, pressing against his groin with the underside of her own tail, her forelegs holding close to the ground. The notion sent a jolt up his spine, once more feeling himself grow harder than ever before, and he pressed back eagerly.

He briefly wondered how to get her to understand the phrase ‘hurry up already’ before remembering he was trying to be different than most of the current town’s population. But she was making it difficult with all her teasing.

As his muzzle pressed to the back of her neck, he felt himself twitch, and could feel one of his tips, he wasn’t sure which, press against something tight. The touch made her shiver as well as him, and he could feel her press back against him slightly.

He tried thinking of a way to calm her down, convey that it was alright, so he tried what she’d done for a while now, and started nibbling a bit on her ears, hoping it would get a positive response.

The faint ‘yipe!’ and subsequent ‘hisss...’ seemed a mixed-bag response, added to her physical response of relaxing against him, her matted fur brushing coarsely against his own coat and scales. Her head tilted back, her spine arching as she seemed to try pressing her head into his face, hissing softly as she did.

Realising that this hiss didn’t signal death or explosive teleportation, which confused all his gaming sensibilities, he managed to relax. Positive that his heart had resumed beating, he continued, trying to figure out what to do in the meantime, which was hard.

As if to answer his unasked question, he felt her hips move back slightly, pushing his questing tip against the tight entrance he’d found, gathering yet another short hiss in the process.

Getting rather impatient, he tried pushing forward slightly with his own hips, hoping that she wouldn’t get offended. The slight quiver of her muscles as she felt him enter her, just ever so barely, made him prepare to GTFO if she hissed louder, until she pressed back with equal fervor, and he felt himself slide into the tight, slick passage he’d discovered. He gasped, accidentally biting harder on the captive ear, drawing blood from the half-dozen pinpricks.

His immediate response was to move his head back, though the movement was rather restricted by the confining covers, and tried to give his best ‘I didn’t mean to, honest!’ face. The last thing he wanted was for her to be mad at him, because that would end badly. Plus he wouldn’t have a traveling companion to keep him warm at night. He then cursed himself for his mental selfishness, despite it being right, he’d probably have frozen to death without her.

Instead, she just mewled, slamming herself down his shaft and completely knocking his mental abilities out the metaphorical window. Almost on instinct, he licked at the tiny wounds he’d caused, as a silent ‘I’m sorry’ as his body began to fall into a more natural rhythm, and he heard a slight ‘slap-slap-slap’ accompany her gyrations. A moment later, she stopped, pausing and leaving him gasping, before reaching back a little ways. He felt something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what in his fugue state, until he felt the tip of his second shaft press delicately against her entrance.

The only thing his muddled head could form into words was This is gonna be awesome!

As the sensation of his mare beginning to rut him filtered out all his coherent thoughts, he found himself only responding, his teeth caught in her coarse mane. Their sweat mingled, and his consciousness faded to the sound of bodies meeting...

------------------------[Sex is Over]------------------------

Anton felt sore. He was also pretty sure he had already woken up, but he was waking up again. And he was sore. Thankfully, it was a pleasant soreness, but soreness all the same. And was it mentioned he was sore?

With a heavy groan, he tried to get out of bed, operative word being ‘try’ as his hooves were weighed down by Creepette’s gently breathing weight. A strong smell filled his nose, but he wasn’t sure of the source, and his eyes snapped open only to find darkness and a thin shaft of light. The light slid across Creepette’s form, her layered, matted coat warm as it pressed against his chest. As he finished waking up, an odd sensation and a wet ‘slorp’ as he felt himself exit the mare in his arms.

It was a strangely satisfying sensation, until he realized he couldn’t remember anything after she had stopped and started again.

Doing his best to remember events that had happened after he blacked out, he figured that he had fallen asleep and she kept going. That was a better result than what usually happens when a guy falls asleep on a girl.

And yet, he could smell the sex, an almost spicy after-effect in the scent. He’d actually never experienced it before, but he rather liked it, as long as it didn’t get any stronger. He wasn’t the biggest fan of ‘spicy’... and now he was hungry.

Shifting a bit to try moving towards the pale green light, he found himself actually crawling over Creepette, one urge taking precedence over hunger, tiredness, soreness, and even the urge to snuggle: the urge... to urinate. He hadn’t gone since he had gotten to this strange new place.

Scrambling out of the quilted cocoon, he poked his head into the chilly air of the room, feeling the temperature difference with a severe level of distaste. Peering around the room, he only saw the small desk, the bed, Asphodel, the door, the wardrobe, the... wait, Asphodel!

She’d know where the restroom is!

“Uh, hey there, so uh, do you have anywhere I could pee, do you?”

“Anywhere you wish. But you will need to bathe before you go, you have a very... strong odor.”

A muffled call of ‘Uhn-gee?’ was heard from the bundle.

“Heh, yeah... okay. You don’t mind that we, uh, y’know...” Anton trailed off, blushing hard and rubbing the back of his neck with a paw. The maredragora simply smiled, and shook her head.

“It is an entirely natural thing, so do not be ashamed. But it is still impolite to wander places smelling like you just did. I have already drawn separate baths for you and her.”

“Of course, thank you Asphodel, you’ve been a great help.”

Another muffled ‘Uhn-gee!’ sounded from the bundle, its shape changing as it toppled slowly off the bed. A squeak accompanied the movement, along with Creepette looking utterly bewildered, as if gravity itself had betrayed her.

Anton merely chuckled, looking at the adorable display, remembering the times he had tried getting out of bed and ending up meeting the floor rather quickly.

“Heheh, c’mon Creepette, let’s get a bath, okay?”

“Bath?”

As if to clarify, Asphodel gently grabbed both of the ponies by their ankles and lifted them straight towards the ceiling, rapidly closing with the solid wood of the roof...

Which parted like a veil right before they reached it, flying up and dropping in a short arc directly into a pair of tubs, Asphodel already waiting for them.

“Okay, that was weird, but totally awesome.”

Asphodel chuckled and smiled with him. As she reached out with a veritable forest of tendrils, she added her own response.

“I thank you, but it wasn’t all that special.”

Turning to Creepette, she focused much of her attention on the young mare, while tendrils bearing large white bricks came for Anton.

“Now dear, this is a bath. It’ll get you all clean...”

And the maredragora did just that, scrubbing and stroking and wiping away the combination of sweat, trail grime, volcanic dust, and sexual juices, Anton finding himself suspended often and without warning in the relatively freezing air that wasn’t the warm water of the bath.

However, he had to admit, the cleaning was very thorough, and included having his mane brushed by a creaking wooden comb.

Meanwhile, Creepette was giggling, shrieking happily, and playing in the water. By the time Anton was settled down for the soak before the final rinse, she had acquired a magnificent bubble-beard. And finally, a wooden bucket of water was upended onto the two of them, rinsing them off.

“Alright, now step out of the tubs.”

“Got any giant leaves for towels?” Anton chuckled, then stopped. “That... wasn’t in bad taste, was it?”

“No, I use woolen towels, like everyone else. Now hold still.”

And with that, she proceeded to vigorously rub them both down, the soft, wooly towels fluffing their coats and buffing his scales. At the end of it, he had the barest beginnings of a sheen on his scales, and fluffy hair, while Creepette’s ‘pixelated’ mats of fur looked more crisp, the hairs less disorganized. Her brightly colored mane was a brilliant shock of red, the bottom faded to a slightly lighter shade.

And her face practically shone. Her normally terrified expression was replaced with a gentle smile and half-closed eyes, giving her the impression she was trying for angelic. It wasn’t quite spot-on, but it was close enough for him.

“I took the time to gather a saddlebag. To prevent yourselves from arousing suspicion, I would suggest that she wears it at least until you have left the town. After that, you could switch off, or she could keep it if she wanted. In the meantime, let us get you moving in the right direction. This way, please.”

The mare’s form melted into the wall, as a staircase going down formed into the same wall, the wood pulling apart like a curtain to reveal the passage. It led to an underground tunnel. The way was lit with the same bioluminescent structures, the corridor bathed in pale green light.

“Just follow the lights. You will come to a cellar. Just knock twice in any pattern, then knock three times quickly to announce yourselves. Be safe, you two, and may your lives be happy.”

The planty pony waved goodbye to the duo, and they walked down the hall, Creepette staying close to Anton’s side. His nose twitched when he realized that she smelled like strawberries.

Behind them, where they couldn’t see, the opening closed shut, not a single seam to announce the passageways presence.

Definitely a bakery.

Anton walked up to the door and rapped on it with his front paw, two times, then three more in quick succession as per Asphodel’s instructions, wondering what the sequence meant.

A few moments of waiting after, Anton heard the latch of the door turn, and then the door opened on a sight he almost couldn’t believe.

It was a pony, that appeared to be made of layered cake or donut, with a faint orange coloration to her translucent mane and tail, with a similarly-colored glaze along her back.

Anton had to quash the sudden and damned-near overpowering urge to lick the pony’s nose, which also appeared to have the shiny material on it.

"Holy crap, you look delicious!"

Anton paused, eyes wide. The mare in front of him quirked a frosted eyebrow.

“I did not mean to say that, I’m not a mindless idiot I swear. Can I try that first impression again, please?”

“Uhm, why don’t you just come inside... My dad’s waiting for you.”

The mare motioned towards the bakery proper, and Anton got a good whiff of the main part of the place, filled with the scent of caramelizing sugar, baking batter, simmering soup, fresh loaves of untold dozens of types of bread, and the mouth-watering smell of icing flooded his senses, and he found himself drooling.

And that’s when he realized he hadn’t moved his gaze from the food pony, who was now looking more than a little scared of him.

“Damnit, I can’t win today, can I?” He asked rhetorically as he faceclawed once again, sure it wouldn’t be his last.

“Uhm, yes? Ah, my dad’s on the right, past the ovens. Try not to hurt yourself.”

The mare pointed, then began to back quietly to the other ovens, turning to do... something, Anton wasn’t sure what.

“Thanks miss... sorry for bothering you.”

Anton headed to the right, hoping he still had a chance to not seem like an idiot. Well, a complete idiot at least.

Shaking his head and sighing, Anton followed the instructions, the bakery well-lit from numerous glowingly hot ovens, the temperature rising.

“Uhn-gee...”

Creepette moaned softly, and Anton saw that she was already sweating profusely. It was a little confusing, because he didn’t feel it much at all, but maybe it was like back in the desert-ish area.

“Maybe we can ask for some water to help cool you down, I hope. Plus we shouldn’t be too close to these ovens too long.”

He decided that until they found the baker, he’d stand between Creepette and the wall of ovens, hopefully able to block some of the heat. Creepette still looked miserable, but perhaps a bit less so.

Finally, the two exited the main kitchen, and entered into what was likely a prep room. After the heat of the ovens, the fairly normal air seemed almost freezing to Anton, though Creepette seemed to come alive.

A stallion and two mares were at work in the kitchen, the three of them earth ponies. As Anton stepped in, the male turned to look at him. Talking a bit loudly to be heard over the bustling mares cutting, dicing, and mashing ingredients before mixing them or dusting them onto the tops of some of the loaves, the stallion told the two to move to one side so they could talk.

Anton obliged, wondering what he should ask first if the baker, he presumed to be Fresh Loaf, didn’t speak before he did.

“You’re the two Asphodel talked about, aye? I’ll be the one ta get you some food, and you’ll be movin’ near the evening. My wives will keep working while I get you ready, but I gotta come back soonish, alright? You’ll be kinda stuck fer the time being, but I think you’ll be fine, alright?”

“Uh, sure. Asphodel said you’d have a club or something? Also, my friend here is rather sensitive to heat, do you have a place for us away from an oven?”

“Aye, that can be arranged. As fer the club, that’s an old joke between us, I think you’ll be fine, as is. This should be routine enough. You wouldn’t believe how many I’ve had to sneak out of this city. This place, it’s like a poison fer the soul... Bah, I’m just ramblin’, sorry. Anyways, just follow me, you’ll be in the serving area. Just hang tight, and we’ll send you on your way come sundown.”

“Thank you, sir. Frankly, the way this whole society is set up is... unnerving. I’m used to, er, mares and stallions being equal. Eh, everywhere’s got their own customs I guess.”

The stallion shrugged, and led them onwards. The two of them were sat at a nice booth, Creepette squished against a wall to hide what gender she was. The two were brought sugar-coated pastries of some kind, each in the shape of a leaf. Half an hour or so of waiting later, Anton noted he could hear a faint thumping noise. It was rhythmic, four beats, two almost matching. He didn’t recognize it, but it seemed to be growing louder. It was almost like marching, but with too many footsteps, like each person had twice... the...

Peering out of one of the glassless windows, Anton saw something that scared him. A mob of ponies was marching toward the bakery, and several had torches.

“Uh oh.”

Anton muttered the phrase as no other option came to mind other than trying to look inconspicuous.

Fresh Loaf, followed by the younger mare from before, stepped out from the back of the bakery, and the two looked at the oncoming mob.

“Oh, what’re they doing? This is bad. This is really bad. You two, change of plans, you’re taking m’daughter with you, and you’re going to be getting out, now. The back of the bakery sits against the town’s wall, we’ve made a tunnel leading out. Get through there, Orange Glaze can show you. Glaze, honey, you’re going to have ta trust ‘em. Grab your emergency bag, and go.”

“B-but, dad, what ab-”

“No buts. You two. If my daughter is hurt because you did something or failed to do something, I’ll hunt you down, alive or no.”

“Y-yes sir!”

Anton was trying not to be intimidated, but failing, hence the waver in his voice. He was fairly sure two of his legs were quivering.

“Don’t call me sir, I’m no knight.”

“Uh, okay. Thanks for helping us, I won’t disappoint you. I hope.”

The last was merely a thought, and yet Anton was still nervous, hoping that the stallion couldn’t hear it.

“Good, now go, you three. Me and my wives’re going ta end this problem. One way, or another.”

Anton only saw the baker’s face in profile at that moment, but it was a face of cold resolve. Anton could tell that the stallion didn’t expect to come out of this alive.

“Good luck.”

Anton figured he’d at least offer something before heading to the tunnel and essentially deserting him.

By the time he’d turned around, he saw that the baker’s daughter, apparently named Orange Glaze, was already all ready, a canvas saddlebag on her back. It appeared to have something rolled up and strapped to the top, and she was motioning to Anton for him to follow. Creepette was starting to look nervous.

Anton merely grabbed Creepette’s front hoof and ran to Orange, hoping she’d have an idea of what to do once they got outside. The two quickly reached Orange, and the trio ran. They went into the kitchens, and Orange hauled what appeared to be a large, unused furnace out of the way, revealing it to be hollow.

The three of them went in, the sound of thudding coming from the front door.

Muffled, some words filtered back to them.

“Hey bring us the outsiders!” “We know you have them!” “We may not be able to burn down the kindling, but we can burn you down.”

“So nice to see you, mayor.” “Loaf. I do hope you’ll be cooperative. But if not, my dungeons are rather empty right now...”

Then, the furnace was slid back into place, and a latch sealed from their side. Orange pulled the other two resolutely onwards, stopping only to grab a taper candle to light their way, and snuffing it once they’d reached the exit.

During the quarter-minute trip, she said nothing, though that could be attributed to the candle in her mouth. After she had slipped the cooled wax rod into her saddlebag, though, she just opened the exit door, and stepped out, leading the three of them away from the city.

Seeing nothing else to say, and the previous silence getting to him, Anton spoke up.

“So uh, where to now? I personally have no idea where I am at all. Like I said, I come from... somewhere else.”

The mare failed to respond, continuing to trudge on. Twenty minutes passed without a response, Anton giving up eventually. He was rather unprepared when she stumbled, then fell to her knees, sobbing.

“Uh, Orange? Are you... well, no, you probably aren’t okay... Is there anything I can do?”

The mare continued to sob, curled up slightly on the ground, dust catching in her sugar-based mane and tail. As she cried, Creepette trotted calmly over, and embraced the other mare, who clung tightly to the greenish pony’s form.

Seeing not much else was available for actions, Anton decided to do the same, and hopefully calm the mare down.

The mare leaned against him, and he and Creepette continued to console her as she let it all out.