The Night Shift at Sugar Cube Corner
A Marriage Bed Built For Three
Sugar Cube Corner was one of the most popular establishments in Ponyville. Every resident knew it as the best place to buy all manner of baked delights, from cakes to pies to cupcakes to breakfast pastries. The youth of Ponyville knew it as a great place to hang out with friends and enjoy sweet treats and milkshakes. The owners of Sugar Cube Corner were respected and beloved residents of Ponyville: Mr. Cake was a kind, gentle man with a smile and a friendly word for every customer, and Mrs. Cake was a matronly woman with a round, ruddy face and a doting demeanor.
Then there was the bubbly, cheerful young woman who lived and worked with the Cakes. Pinkie Pie tried to be a friend to every single resident of Ponyville, and her buoyant personality, comical mannerisms, and bizarre quirks endeared her to most. Her slim, toned physique and perky breasts made her a favorite of nearly every man and boy in town, and the envy of quite a few women. Her baking skills were on par with Mrs. Cake's, and she always had a spring in her step when waiting tables and taking orders.
Ponyville's residents loved Sugar Cube Corner, its upstanding proprietors, and their lovely and bubbly employee.
What nobody in Ponyville suspected was that once a week, Mrs. Cake sat on the love seat in the couple's bedroom and watched her husband have sex with the eighteen-year-old Pinkie Pie on their marriage bed.
* * * * *
It was ten o'clock at night on Wednesday. The middle of the week was always stressful; it was the perfect time for the Cakes to unwind with their private pastime.
Mrs. Cake sat on the plush love seat in the bedroom, her silk housecoat loosely gathered around her, a negligee peeking out from beneath it.
Mr. Cake sat on the bed, wearing velvet pajama trousers and a matching robe.
As the clock chimed the hour, the door opened. Pinkie Pie walked in, wearing shiny black mary janes, knee-high white socks, and a school uniform consisting of a pleated black skirt, a white sailor blouse with a black collar flap, and a yellow neckerchief. Her wide, innocent blue eyes made her look younger than she was, and her mass of cottony pink hair had been restyled into waves of straight, shiny locks. She poked at the corner of her mouth with a fingertip.
"You wanted to see me, Sensei?" she asked innocently.
* * * * *
Mrs. Cake had known, not long after Pinkie started working for them, that her husband was attracted to the girl. Lusted after her, in fact. She'd caught him fondling Pinkie's rear end whenever he happened to be standing next to her at the counter or in the kitchen. Pinkie would squirm awkwardly as Mr. Cake groped her, but never said anything or tried to pull away.
Mrs. Cake had confronted her husband about it. He'd averted his eyes, whined and stuttered, and made vague promises to try to control himself. Then, when he thought she wasn't looking, he'd invariably sidle up next to Pinkie and start rubbing her thighs, her butt...even her crotch.
One day, when Mrs. Cake was alone with Pinkie in the kitchen, she decided to address the issue directly.
"Why don't you say anything about my husband grabbing you like that?"
Pinkie sighed. "I...well, I don't really wanna make a scene or embarrass him..."
"My husband's being a complete pervert, and he knows better," Mrs. Cake said. "I've told him not to grope you, and he keeps doing it..."
Pinkie ducked her head. "Umm...you're probably gonna think I'm a slut or something for this, but..." She blushed. "I kinda like it when he touches me. It makes me feel dirty, but in a good way..." She gasped and waved her hands. "No, I'm not encouraging him to feel me up or anything, honest! It's just..."
Mrs. Cake pursed her lips. "I think I understand." She sighed. "Still...he shouldn't be doing that."
"Yeah, he shouldn't," Pinkie agreed. "I'll...try to discourage him."
* * * * *
Pinkie sat side-saddle on Mr. Cake's lap, arranging her skirt demurely. Mr. Cake slid his hand underneath her blouse and cupped her breast. His other hand brushed the inside of her thigh, slowly pushing her skirt up until the pale pink panties she wore were revealed. He ran a finger along the tender flesh at the hem of those panties, then gently pushed a finger underneath the hem. Pinkie gasped, arching her back.
"Stop," Mrs. Cake said. "I didn't ask you to wear a schoolgirl uniform for no reason. I want to see some roleplay."
"Oh. Okay." Pinkie stood up, smoothing down her skirt and blouse. "So, umm...what do I...?"
"You've been a very bad girl," Mrs. Cake said. "You've been cutting class and not handing in homework assignments. Your grades are terrible. Mr. Cake just caught you vandalizing the desks in your homeroom."
Pinkie blinked. "Wow. I don't know if I can play a bad girl..."
"That doesn't matter," Mrs. Cake said. "You've been bad, and the only recourse is corporal punishment." She smirked. "Bend over, little girl. Mr. Cake's about to give you a spanking."
"Eep!"
Mr. Cake grinned and pushed Pinkie down over the bed, lifting her skirt. He raised his hand...
* * * * *
It had stopped for a time, and Mr. Cake seemed to be sorry for the way he'd treated their young employee.
But then...
The week of Mr. Cake's birthday, Mrs. Cake had come down with a severe respiratory infection. She'd been in the hospital on her husband's birthday, forcing him to cancel the party she'd been planning with Pinkie Pie.
Many weeks later, Mrs. Cake found out that Pinkie tried to cheer up Mr. Cake by giving him a blowjob. She discovered this after catching the two of them in a lewd act; they had been working late on a very large, very stressful catering order. She'd been in the front, closing up shop and cleaning tables. When she returned to the kitchen, she saw Pinkie Pie crouched under the counter where Mr. Cake was working. Pinkie had one hand cupped around Mr. Cake's balls, while the other was working the length of his dick; her tongue was swirling around the tip. She saw Mrs. Cake walk in and froze, her eyes wide.
"Don't let me interrupt," Mrs. Cake said, arms folded. "Please, by all means, go ahead and finish."
Mr. Cake seized up and, in a panic, came all over Pinkie's face. After that, the three of them sat down and had a long talk about exactly what was going on. Mrs. Cake was furious with her husband for his behavior, and livid at Pinkie for encouraging him to cheat on her with a much younger woman.
"He's not...really cheating on you though," Pinkie said. "Sometimes he just...needs a little playtime, and you're not able to..."
That was when the birthday blowjob incident had come out. Mrs. Cake learned that once or twice a week, Pinkie would give Mr. Cake a clandestine blowjob, usually after a really stressful day.
She screamed at both of them for a solid hour. During her tirade, Pinkie grew increasingly more depressed, her eyes clouding and her face falling. When Mrs. Cake finally became too hoarse to scream, Pinkie said, "I'm sorry. I never meant...it's okay, I...I quit. I'll move out...first thing tomorrow. I...I guess I'll have to leave Ponyville. I really enjoyed working for you, this is the bestest job I could ever hope for, but..."
She looked so dejected, and in that moment, Mrs. Cake thought over the months Pinkie Pie had lived and worked with them. The girl was a tireless fountain of energy, joy, and cheer. She'd bound downstairs every morning with a smile on her face, a smile that never faltered no matter how hectic things got in the store. Her good cheer was infectuous—ever since she'd arrived in Ponyville, the entire town had become a much happier place, as though Pinkie was some kind of happiness battery.
Then she remembered what Pinkie had told them about her humble upbringing on a grey, dreary rock farm, a place utterly devoid of fun and laughter and cheer.
She also remembered how vital a part of running Sugar Cube Corner the girl had become.
As angry as she was with the girl and her husband, as betrayed as she felt...
The thought of actually losing Pinkie Pie, of watching that loft become just a dusty old storage room again, of the joy and laughter and cheer she'd brought to Ponyville evaporating...
Mrs. Cake sighed. "You...don't have to go," she said. "I don't want you to go. We need you, and I love you like a daughter..." She looked down at her hands. "It's just...this is..."
"Yeah..." Pinkie said.
After that, Mrs. Cake tried to spice up her sex life with her husband, having decided that perhaps she wasn't attentive enough, that his wandering lust was somehow her fault. But no matter what she tried, it never felt quite right.
She would look at herself in the mirror, at her thick-boned, dumpy body and saggy breasts, and sigh dejectedly. "Of course he'd rather have Pinkie than me," she would tell her reflection. "I never looked that good even when I was her age..."
She tried going to the spa for a full treatment and a makeover. She bought newer, sexier clothes...that didn't really flatter her. She tried everything she could think of.
But when it was just her and Mr. Cake, alone in bed at night...she thought about Pinkie, and lost all her passion. Mrs. Cake knew she wasn't a sexy woman, and while she and her husband loved each other dearly...that part of their life together was over.
And as much as she wanted to hate Pinkie Pie for it, she couldn't. How do you hate somebody for being sexier than you? It wasn't her fault. Sure, the situation that had arisen between Pinkie and Mr. Cake was at least partly Pinkie's fault...actually, mostly Pinkie's fault after the blowjob thing...
But she hadn't done it because she was a bad girl. She'd done it because she wanted to make Mr. Cake happy on a day when he was feeling very sad.
As the days wore on, Mrs. Cake began to have dreams...dreams of Pinkie and her perfect body and ample, pert young breasts bouncing up and down on Mr. Cake, of the two of them grunting and moaning and sweating together.
What surprised her—what terrified her—was that the dreams aroused her.
After a particularly vivid dream, she woke Mr. Cake up and fucked his brains out like it was their wedding night all over again. It was the first time she truly felt sexy in what felt like forever.
As they lay together in each other's arms, sweaty and sticky, Mr. Cake asked, "What brought that on, dear?"
"I...just had a really erotic dream," Mrs. Cake said.
"Oh? What was it about?"
Mrs. Cake decided not to tell him...but for the rest of the following day, she kept reliving those vivid images. Every time she looked at Pinkie, she saw her getting fucked by Mr. Cake, and fought down a whimper of arousal.
That night, as they were cleaning the kitchen while Mr. Cake locked up the register and the store, Mrs. Cake asked idly, "Pinkie, dear?"
"Yes, Mrs. Cake?"
"If...if I asked you to come upstairs later and...and have sex with Mr. Cake while I watch...would you?"
Pinkie stared at her. "What?!"
Mrs. Cake flushed. "I...I had a dream about...about the two of you...and it got me so hot and so wet...I haven't felt that way in a long time." She looked down. "I..."
"Whoa, you had a dream about me sleeping with Mr. Cake?" Pinkie asked. "That's really weird!"
"I know it is!" Mrs. Cake cried, face burning crimson. "But..." She looked at Pinkie. "Would you?"
Pinkie blinked. "I...I don't know..."
"After that dream, I fucked Mr. Cake wild like we were teenagers again," Mrs. Cake said bluntly. "I think...I think you're what our sex life needs."
Pinkie's jaw dropped. "Wow," she said. "That's...that's a kind of party I never thought I'd be..."
In the end, Pinkie agreed to discuss it with the two of them together. Mrs. Cake told Mr. Cake about her dream, then about what she'd asked Pinkie to do. Mr. Cake tried very hard not to look like he was excited about the prospect, but his body betrayed him.
That night, Pinkie Pie lost her virginity to a man old enough to be her father. Mrs. Cake watched as Mr. Cake's hands stroked every inch of Pinkie's naked body. Every moan or whimper or gasp from Pinkie stirred a longing in her. And when Pinkie lay sprawled on their marriage bed, Mr. Cake's cum pooling between her thighs, Mrs. Cake stripped down and took her husband right on top of her.
* * * * *
Mr. Cake's hand smacked sharply against Pinkie's ass for at least the thirtieth time. Her panties were bunched around her ankles; both her ass cheeks were red and raw. She was whimpering.
"Are you gonna shape up and fly right?" Mr. Cake growled.
"Umm...screw you, old man! Because I'm like, totally a bad girl and...I smoke and...drink and tip cows and stuff!" Pinkie said. Tears were falling from her eyes, staining the sheets.
"It doesn't sound like spanking her is working," Mrs. Cake said. "You're going to have to resort to tougher punishment."
"You mean like expelling me from school?" Pinkie asked.
"You know what I mean," Mrs. Cake said. Mr. Cake removed his pajama pants and spread his robe open. He pushed Pinkie down lower, grabbing her around the thighs to raise her ass higher into the air.
"N-no! I'll be good! I'll—I'll go to summer school! And do detention and stuff!" Pinkie stammered. She squirmed; her pussy was flushed and wet.
Mr. Cake rubbed his dick against her swollen sex, then thrust into her as hard as he could. Pinkie cried out in genuine alarm as Mr. Cake roughly pounded her.
"A-aaah! Wait! Y-you're doing it too hard!"
"This! Is! Punishment!" Mr. Cake grunted as he hammered Pinkie. Her feet bounced off the floor with the force of each thrust.
"N-no, I mean it! Y-you're hurting me, Mr. Cake! It's too rough...!"
"Your dirty little pussy wants it!" Mr. Cake grunted.
Pinkie whimpered as Mr. Cake kept fucking her. Mrs. Cake stood up. "Carrot...ease up on her. I don't want you to really hurt her. She's scared."
Mr. Cake backed off and sighed. "Sorry, Pinkie. I got carried away..."
"I-it's okay," Pinkie said, wiping tears from her eyes. "C-can you just...do like you normally do?" she asked.
"I think your pussy needs a little time to rest after that," Mrs. Cake said. "Why don't you give Mr. Cake a blowjob? Dear, sit on the bed...let Pinkie have some room..."
Mr. Cake sat down, presenting himself. Pinkie wriggled around until she was able to lower her head over his cock. Brushing her hair out of her face, she wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft and brushed her lips over his tip, then took him into her mouth. He grunted and tipped his head back as Pinkie's head bobbed up and down in his lap, wetting his member with saliva.
Mrs. Cake walked over to the bedside table, not taking her eyes off Pinkie's wriggling ass. "I'm going to rub some lubricant inside you, Pinkie. It should help soothe you." No reply came; Mrs. Cake pulled out a small jar of water-based jelly and crouched down behind Pinkie. Coating her finger with a generous amount of lubricant, she inserted it into Pinkie's sex, gently smearing the lube all around her insides. Pinkie moaned and squirmed, thrusting against Mrs. Cake's finger. Her pussy walls tightened; Mrs. Cake spent a moment lovingly caressing that one special spot that would make Pinkie extra wet, then pulled her finger out with a wet, slurping pop.
She studied Pinkie's ass, her red, abused cheeks, her swollen, wet sex. Frowning thoughtfully, she went back to her bedside table and pulled out a small, round vibrator. She moved back over to Pinkie and pressed the little toy against the rim of her asshole.
Pinkie let out a yelp and jerked her head around. "What are you doing back there?"
"Something I think you'll enjoy, Pinkie dear," Mrs. Cake said. Mr. Cake gently but firmly brought Pinkie's attention back to the task of sucking his dick, while Mrs. Cake slowly pushed the vibrator into Pinkie's ass.
Pinkie let out a sharp squeak, throwing her head back. Mrs. Cake pushed as much of the toy inside Pinkie as her ass would take, then turned it on to its lowest setting.
"AaaaAAAAaAAAH!" Pinkie looked back around at her. "Did you just put a vibrator in my butt?"
"Yes I did, dear!" Mrs. Cake said cheerfully. "How does it feel?"
"Weird," Pinkie said.
She was still stroking Mr. Cake's shaft with her hand; he let out a loud grunt and came, his seed exploding against the side of Pinkie's face. "Oh god," Mr. Cake groaned. He looked past Pinkie's head at her squirming ass and the sight of his wife slowly pushing and pulling on the active vibrator buzzing inside Pinkie's anus. His dick started to get hard again. He pushed out from underneath Pinkie and stood up. "Roll over, Pinkie," he said. "On your back."
"Huh? Why?" Pinkie looked nervous. "I'm still kinda sore down there..."
"That's okay, I have a different idea," Mr. Cake said.
Mrs. Cake slid back and helped Pinkie roll over. Mr. Cake straddled Pinkie's stomach and pushed her blouse up, revealing her firm breasts. He took them in his hands and kneaded them for a minute even as his cock grew stiffer. He then scooted forward, positioning his dick between Pinkie's breasts.
"Oh, we're doing this?" Pinkie asked. "I've seen pictures of it..."
Mr. Cake pushed Pinkie's breasts together around his stiff manhood and began thrusting forward and up, kneading her nipples as he built up a rhythm. Mrs. Cake went back to work on Pinkie's rear, nudging the little vibrator in and out while adjusting the speed...a little faster, then a little slower, then a lot faster...
Pinkie cried out, biting the knuckles of one hand and arching her back. Her legs bounced in the air. Sweat stained her cosplay school uniform and matted her hair. Mr. Cake grunted as he fucked her tits, faster and faster...
Mrs. Cake rubbed her thumb against Pinkie's swollen clit as she fucked her ass with the vibrator. Pinkie moaned. Her breasts bounced harder and faster as Mr. Cake grew nearer to his second climax. Finally, with one last, urgent thrust, he unleashed a torrent of cum that splattered on Pinkie's tits and face, then sagged against her.
Mrs. Cake pulled the vibrator out of Pinkie's ass and turned it off.
"I think Mr. Cake's done for the night," Pinkie said, gently easing the older man down onto the bed beside her. She pushed herself to the edge of the bed and gingerly stood up. She shuffled her feet awkwardly. "Umm...you've never...gotten so involved in this before..."
"I'm sorry, dear. Did it make you uncomfortable?"
"Well, a little," Pinkie admitted. "But mostly because you stuck something up my butt. Maybe a little warning before you do that?"
"Alright, dearie. I promise." Mrs. Cake smiled. "But did you enjoy it?"
Pinkie thought about that. "Kinda, yeah, I guess," she said. "It felt really weird, but...kinda not bad?"
Mrs. Cake laughed. "Why don't you go get cleaned up and go to bed?"
"Okay. Goodnight, Mrs. Cake! Mr. Cake!"
"Goodnight, Pinkie Pie."
* * * * *
The next morning, as Pinkie was helping bake the first batch of fresh muffins for the early crowd, Mrs. Cake said, "By the way, Pinkie...Mr. Cake's brother Buck is coming into town for a visit next week." She looked at Pinkie. "I bet he'd like to join in our little fun." She smiled. "I'd kind of like to see you get fucked by two men at the same time..."
Pinkie's cottony hair fell flat. "Eheh...hee..."
