No Ship to Sail

It was getting progressively more difficult for Pinkie to maintain her bubbly demeanor.

"Miss?" the stallion prompted from across the counter. Pinkie blinked, trying to ignore the way Pinkamena was mocking his every word and movement. "I said I needed a dozen cinnamon rolls."

"Haha, of course! One dozen, coming right up!" Pinkie smiled.

" 'Coming right up!' " Pinkamena sneered mockingly, hopping over the counter. The stallion ignored her. Pinkie shook her head. It had been two weeks since the atrociously behaved doppleganger had made her escape from the mirror, and her invasion of Pinkie's day to day life was becoming progressively worse. She'd become harder to ignore, and Pinkie feared one day she was going to slip and scream at the pony on she could see.

Like right now.

All morning during her shift, Pinkamena had been mimicking her every word.

"I don't even sound like that," Pinkie muttered to her double as she bent down to retrieve the stallion's request from the pastry case.

"You do, you simpering sad sod," Pinkemna giggled, and smacked Pinkie as hard as she could on her rump.

Pinkie yelped. Loudly. Everypony's head popped up, even Mr. Cake's from the kitchen, and Pinkie felt uncomfortable stares land on her. She smiled nervously. "Just, ah... caught my mane in the register drawer, haha!" she recovered. "Clumsy ol' Pinkie Pie!"

"Miss, I really need to go," the stallion at the counter pressed, looking at his watch for emphasis.

"Of course, of course," Pinkie bubbled. "Here you go, eleven plus one yummalicious cinnamon rolls, baked fresh this morn—"

Pinkamena slapped the box from underneath, sending the cinnamon rolls bouncing out of the cardboard container and into the air. Pinkie watched in slow-motion horror as they sailed, icing first, right at the stallion. She winced as they landed, sticky side down, all over his coat and mane.

"What... on Equuis... was that for?" he demanded, clearly trying to contain his anger.

"I have a twitch?" Pinkie tried, feeling hot tears of frustration and embarrassment well in her eyes.

"I demand your manager."

"Pinkie." Mr Cake's voice came from the kitchen.

"Yes, Mr. Cake?" Pinkie replied. Pinkamena wordlessly mocked her, continuing to lob cinnamon rolls at the stallion. Thankfully, these either missed or he could not see them.

"Take the rest of the day off, will you hun? Mrs. Cake and I can handle this."

"But there's a line—"

The look he gave her as he came to the kitchen doorway was enough to still her tongue. Her mane sagging, Pinkie Pie nodded, and defeatedly trod into the back.

"Well that was an eventful morning!" Pinkemena chimed cheerfully, trotting bouncily beside her. It was as though their energies had switched.

"I hate you," Pinkie whispered.

"I only do the things you're too much of a coward to do for yourself," Pinkamena replied helpfully, sticking a hoof in front of Pinkie's, causing her to take a tumble. The straight-maned doppleganger giggled. "You are a piece of work!"

"Bully," Pinkie muttered, climbing to her hooves.

"Oh, sticks and stones, Pinkie my love."

"Whatever," Pinkie replied, nudging the door to her room open.

"So, what shall we do today?" Pinkemena grinned, plopping down on Pinkie's bed. Pinkie gave her a look that would have been menacing from anypony else, but, given that this was Pinkie Pie, ended up being just cranky.

"I'm going to see Twilight," Pinkie decided, stopping before her shattered mirror. She had gathered all the glass shards and glued them back to the frame—the effect was eerie and disturbing, but would have to make do until she had the bits to buy a new one. Pinkamena oozed in behind her, too close for Pinkie's comfort.

"Whatever for?" Her double's breath was hot in her ear. It made that tingly feeling in Pinkie's thighs again. She didn't like it.

"You," she replied plainly, trying to ignore how the proximity of another pony's body was making her react. Pinkamena had been doing it far too often—ever since her emergence form the mirror. It gave Pinkie thoughts she'd never had before, and she was pretty sure they were wrong.

"They'll just put you in that hospital with Screwball," Pinkamena whispered. This time, she nipped Pinkie's ear. Pinkie trembled. "Everpony already things you're a little 'off.' Imagine when you tell them a better looking smarter version of you is following you around making your life miserable, but only you can see it."

"Twilight will believe me," Pinkie maintained, pushing back against Pinkamena. The other pony stepped forward and placed a leg between Pinkie's hind ones. Pinkie gasped at the sensation.

"No one will believe you," Pinkamena hissed, biting Pinkie's ear again.

"S-stop it," Pinkie stammered.

"You like it," Pinkamena countered. "You want this. You always have, but you've been too timid to do anything about it." She ground her leg against Pinkie's place, and Pinkie gasped again, feeling a warmth spread deep in her belly.

"S-stop it, p-please," Pinkie tried.

"Give in," Pinkamena purred in Pinkie's ear. Her breath was warm... It always was. Pinkie felt like crying. It was good and bad at the same time, this feeling that was growing inside her. "Little Pinkie Pie, you've never had a climax, have you?"

Pinkie whimpered, feeling that place pressed against Pinkamena's leg grow wet and hot. The acrimonious alter smiled knowingly, and lifted her leg, drawing the length of it along that burning spot. Pinkie moaned.

"Never ever, so behind your friends..." Pinkamena continued. She placed the tip of her hoof against a place Pinkie had felt throbbing but did not dare voice her desire to have touched. It was for naught—Pinkamena knew her thoughts, and started rubbing that place with her hoof in small, fast circles. Pinkie bit her lip, slamming her forehooves on the surface of the mirror. "Say it feels good Pinkie."

"N-no..."

"Admit it. Admit you're a dirty little horse."

"I-I'm not doing anything wrong..."

"Say it!"

Pinkamena pressed harder, almost painfully so, and Pinkie cried out as a rushing, tingling heat cascaded from her place to her thighs, up her belly, and into her chest. She gasped for air, her muzzle covered in a fine sheen of sweat.

When she raised her eyes to the broken mirror, she saw her own shattered reflection, hoof between her legs... and nopony else, her blue eyes with pupils large and dark in post-orgasmic ecstasy.

She's... gone?

"Always with you..." Pinkamena's voice sounded in her ear.

Pinkie began to sob.