Blue Frosting

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Apple Bloom awoke with a start, hoping everything she remembered was a horrible dream. But reality hit her like a sledgehammer as she felt the packed dirt beneath her and saw the little slits of light in the room. She had wanted to stay awake to keep an eye on her friends, but she had passed out again shortly after Pinkie left. She could hear the irregular breathing of her friends and smelled a new, rank odor in the room.

Poop. Uncovered pony poop.

"Sweetie, Scoot; are you still there? What's that smell?"

"We're still here," came a very smooth and dreamy but tired voice. "I'm okay but Scootaloo's very sick." Sweetie Belle giggled. "I'm sorry I can't help her. Pinkie brought me some cupcakes and party punch, but she hasn't given Scoot anything since we got here. I think that's what she means by too little."

"I'm so thirsty and hungry," husked Scootaloo. "I'm sorry about the smell; I couldn't hold in any more. I just don't have any strength left."

"Hang in there, Scoot. We'll find a way out of this," started Sweetie Belle but she drifted off, lost in the agony and ecstasy of the blue drug. Scootaloo saw her eyes flutter closed and her smile become a cruel mockery of itself. This was the second time that she had lost consciousness because of the forced drug overdose.

Her distended stomach made it obvious that her intestines were bloated with the sugary blue solution. Had she not been so completely stoned she would be screaming in pain. Her body twitched and jerked from time to time. The side of her muzzle was encrusted with filly drool.

"Oh Celestia," choked Apple Bloom as she looked at her friends. "I am so scared. What are we going to do?"

"Pinkie says we should always," wheezed Sweetie Bell who had just regained consciousness, "always keep your smile up and..." She stopped to catch her breath. Sweetie Belle was also very sick. "your smile up and your tail down. Heh heh." She returned to her labored wheezing.

The clopping of hooves could be heard overhead. "Good morning contestants,' yelled Pinkie as she threw open the cellar door.  She tossed down the picnic basket and trotted down the stairs. Pinkie plopped herself on down on the old couch, a cloud of dust exploding from beneath her. "How are we all today? Roll call! Miss Apple Bloom?"

Pinkie was standing right in front of her. The taunting was almost as bad as the torture. "I'm here, Pinkie."

"Little Miss Too Much? Are you here?"

There was a pause, and then a hoarse voice cursed "I hope you get your head stuck in a cake mixer, you jerk."

No no, Sweetie, don't do it thought Apple Bloom, but at the same time she silently cheered her on.

"Oh ho! Lots of spunk left in the white filly." Pinkie walked over to the sassy filly and rubbed her tummy. "Well, there's lots and lots of something in there!" Pinkie gave her tummy a poke and Sweetie Belle spit up some of the pale blue fluid, almost hitting Pinkie. "Whoa! Don't show off just for me!"

She stepped in front of Scootaloo and lifted her head. "Oh Little Miss Too Little, you don't look so good. Aren't you sad now you stole my Party Ponies?" The filly's sunken eyes and cracked, bleeding lips showed she was seriously dehydrated. She trembled as her eyes a opened a slit and then closed again. Pinkie let her head drop.

She waved her hands in front of her muzzle. "You are one stinky filly, you know that?"

"But last night right before I went to bed," she started but was interrupted by someone not there. She staggered, then righted herself. "There are ponies who tell me I am a good pony and shouldn't be mean." Pinkie instantly switched from psycho-pony to very guilty-pony, "So I should say to you I am sorry for all the things I have done to you." A tear formed on Pinkie's cheek. "I know you are my friends."

"Then just let us go, Pinkie," begged Apple Bloom. "I promise we won't tell anyone. Show us kindness."

click. Psycho-pony was back. "Kindness? You are Party Pony thieves! They were going to be my best friends, not like you cheaters. Party Pony Haters!"

With that Pinkie reached into her basket, picked up a container and threw it at Scootaloo. The dehydrated pony barely flinched as the bowlful of water splashed her face, followed by the dull thud of the the empty bowl against her head. "There's your kindness!" She reached into the basket again and grabbed a pair of cupcakes. ”You look like you’d be good at eating LOTS of cupcakes!” She pried open Sweetie Belle's muzzle and crammed them down her throat. Instantly she started suffocating on the dry desserts.

"Oh, are those too dry for you? All the lemon-colored ponies said I should give you something to drink, too!" Pinkie grabbed Sweetie Belle's mane, jerking her head back and poured apple juice down her throat. Choking, she coughed out the now gooey cupcake matter into the air, a sizeable amount landing on Pinkie.

"That is so gross!" exclaimed Pinkie. "Bad Party Pony hater!" Pinkamena Pie stepped back and kicked the bloated pony in the stomach. A hurricane of blue fluid erupted from Sweetie Belle's mouth, followed by a hair-raising moan.

To Apple Bloom's horror, Pinkie turned toward her.

"Miss Apple Bloom, I apologize for not attending to your needs. The blue ponies were so concerned about Little Miss Too Much and Little Miss Too Little that we forgot about Little Miss Just Right." She plopped down on the couch, setting the basket beside her. "Come over here, filly."

Apple Bloom shook her head and tried to back away.

"I said get over here. We need to make things Just Right." She grabbed the chain with her teeth and pulled, jerking the wounded filly in the direction of the couch. Mouthful by mouthful she pulled the chain until Apple Bloom was in front of her.

"Apple Bloom, would you like some frosting?"

The hunger spoke for her, "Please Pinkie."

"How much do you want it? Would you kill Sweetie Belle to get some frosting?"

"No!" shouted Apple Bloom in horror.

"Ha ha ha. I didn't think so. That was the red and orange striped pony's idea. I thought it was dumb anyway. Did you know that all the new foals are solid pink? All 572 of them. They are very cute. I never thought my brain could hold so many ponies, but it does! Or they does. Maybe. It's too much for my simple Pinkamena brain; that's why I let the pony voices run things a lot of the time, now."

"Close your eyes and don't open them until I tell you." Apple Bloom complied. Pinkie opened a container from the basket and scooped out a hoofful of blue goo. She stuck in front of Apple Bloom's muzzle. "Take a sniff. What do you smell?"

The immature pony inhaled. "Blue frosting. Please Pinkie, I need some." Apple Bloom began to tremble.

"Now stick your tongue out, just a little. What do you taste?"

A pink tongue flicked out. "Blue frosting."

"Now see, all the ponies in my head are trying to make it just right for you. Aren't we generous? If you keep your eyes closed, you can eat some more. There's plenty."

The tortured filly took another lick and let the flavor of the drug wash over her tongue. When there was no reprisal, she leaned forward and took a huge bite, scraping her teeth along Pinkie's hoof as she tried to get all the frosting she could. She gulped down the mouthful of frosting just as a hoof reached out and smacked her up the side of her head.

"Such poor table manners for a Party Pony pretender!"

Apple Bloom opened her eyes in surprise at being struck.

"Did we say you could open your eyes?" scolded Pinkie Pie. "Did we?"

Apple Bloom closed her eyes again. "No, Pinkie. I'm sorry Pinkie."

"We need to teach you some manners. First," Pinkie's voice became low and sultry, “we learn table manners. You must always dine using the right plates. Blue frosting is for cupcakes, so we should always use the special dessert plates that we reserve for the yummiest treats."

Pinkie took another hoofull of frosting and waved it in front of Apple Bloom. The filly's nose twitched in anticipation. But instead of feeding it to her, Pinkie spread her legs and pressed the blue goo against her sex. She closed her eyes and inhaled sharply as she massaged it into her puffy pony lips. Her clitoris, which had been anticipating this event ever since she kidnapped the Crusaders, was already stiff and swollen. As she rubbed her pussy, the blue frosting began to mix with the juices that were leaking out of her, making a pale blue slime that covered her cunt and inner thighs. She took another scoop and patted it on top of the other, forming a mound of solid frosting.

Pinkie grabbed the chain and pulled hard, forcing Apple Bloom's muzzle against her blue-frosted cunt. At first she fought against the chain, worried that she might suffocate, but as she smelled and tasted the blue frosting she couldn't resist lapping it up, the taste melting into her mouth and suffusing her body. When she reached the moist, fleshy material underneath she hesitated, repulsed by the idea of licking another mare but helpless to stop as the need for the blue raged within her. Pinkie kept the chain taut and put it underneath her and sat on it, still trapping Apple Bloom but freeing Pinkie to use her mouth and hooves.

“The blue ponies were right,” sighed Pinkie. “Using the correct dessert plate makes all the difference. Don’t you agree, Apple Bloom?” Pinkie put a hoof on her head and forced her to nod yes, without having to removing her tongue from her rapist’s vagina. “Make sure you clean your plate.”

Apple Bloom’s mouth was now saturated with of the salty taste of Pinkie as well as the frosting. The thought of doing fillyfooler things made her want to vomit, but her body’s need for blue would never let that happen. She also knew that the longer Pinkie was in a good mood the better chance she and her friends had of staying alive.

Apple Bloom wanted to get this nightmare over as soon as possible. She tried to remember the times when she was alone in the house and she had touched herself. There were some places that felt nice when you rubbed them, some places that felt really good if you flicked them with your hoof, and sometimes it felt good if she put her hoof or a small apple into what her sister called her ‘apple bucket’ and then rubbed herself real hard.

Apple Bloom used her tongue and found the “rubbing spot” on Pinkie. The mare arched her back and gave a loud moan that filled the cellar. Pinkie grabbed the filly’s head and ground it into her cunt while her hips thrust up and down, milking every last drop of bliss out of her oral orgasm. She released Apple Bloom who fell back on her haunches, gasping for breath. Neither moved nor said anything for several minutes.

“Wowie Zowie!” exclaimed their crazed captor. “That was great, you little fillyfooler! Did you learn those fillyfooler tricks from your sister?”

“I’m not a fillyfooler,” countered Apple Bloom, disgustedly. Her muzzle was coated with mixture of Pinkie’s cunt juice, her saliva, and frosting, but she dared not touch it in case it might set off the dangerously unstable mare.

“Could’a fooled me.” Pinkie pulled down a “Welcome Party Ponies!” banner and used it to wipe the goo dripping from her vulva and thighs.

When she had scraped most of it off her body, Pinkie stared at the sign smeared with blue. She held it to her face and lovingly licked off the blue until all the words were legible again. “Party Ponies…: she whispered to herself. “My Party Ponies..”

And just like that the psycho-pony was back. “If you stole my Party Ponies, then you will have to be my new Party Pony!” she screamed at Apple Bloom, and knocked her over as she ran out of the cellar.

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Pinkie reclined on the couch, a position she had discovered was much more comfortable than sitting upright. Apple Bloom crawled out of her nest of broken boxes and fouled blankets toward her, unable to remember how this deranged monster had ever been her friend. She winced with every step, the weight of the heavy chain causing the metal collar to chafe and reopen bloody sores on her neck and shoulders. The pathetic creature stopped with her muzzle two feet away from Pinkie’s crotch and waited to play her part in the game.

It had been almost two months since Pinkie had drugged and kidnapped the three Cutie Mark Crusaders. Pinkie’s spotless reputation and her storytelling skills successfully convinced their parents, and the townsfolk, that although the fillies had been to Sugarcube Corner after school, they had left together before dark and she hadn’t seen them since. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were so preoccupied with their new baby that they didn’t notice Pinkie’s odd new habits and her frequent, unwarranted visits to the cellar.

The pink pony wiggled herself into the familiar worn spots of the couch and spread her legs, exposing her soft, moist parts to the filly. With her free hoof Pinkie gently massaged her cunt, manipulating the soft, puffy folds. Pinkie loved the feeling of control as she forced her prisoner to watch her pleasure herpony, within smelling distance of her marehood.

The pitiful prisoner had to wait until Pinkie's pussy began to leak pony juices before moving to the next part of the unspoken script. While Apple Bloom waited she reached down and carefully scratched the lesion on her flank. Several weeks ago Pinkie had decided her captive didn’t look enough like a Party Pony, so she poured buckets of brightly colored paint all over her. The paint, now dried and already flaking off, was meant for houses, not fillies, and as a result her hide was dotted with open sores.

The quiet squishing sound meant her tormentor was ready for her to proceed. "Please, Party Princess Pinkamena, I am a beautiful Party Pony who loves you very much. I have come from very far away to be your friend. May I please have some of your delicious frosting?” pleaded the filly acting the part of Pinkie’s fantasy friend.

"And how would you like your frosting served?" asked Pinkie, her voice muffled under the perfumed bandanna covering her mouth and nose. The bandanna was needed to cover up the putrid smell of the decaying ponies on the other side of the cellar. Pinkie’s torture of Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle had been so effective that they had died within a week of their capture. Pinkie had no way to get them out of the cellar, and even if she did there was no way for her to bury the bodies without attracting attention.

For the last month and a half their decomposing carcasses had been a source of sustenance for all matter of carrion-consuming creatures. Pinkie had tried to get Apple Bloom to bury the bodies, but the hard packed earth would not yield to a shovel, and any time Apple Bloom got close to the bodies she would wretch uncontrollably, regardless of how much Pinkie beat her. In the end, Pinkie used a cloth drenched in perfume to mask the odor, and Apple Bloom learned that if she didn’t think about it too much, she could live with it.

“I would like to eat your frosting off your best dessert plate because you make the best desserts.”

Pinkie used a frosting-coated hoof to work the tasty blue cream into her sex. As she rubbed her pussy, the blue frosting mix with her juices to make the familiar pale blue goo that covered her marehood and soft inner thighs.

"Party Pony, I love you so much,” responded Pinkie. “Please scrub my dinner plate with your magical tongue.”

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Blue Frosting Ending #00

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Pinkie was taking a long time to orgasm, which was perfectly okay, as it felt good and she had no pressing engagements. Her pleasure was magnified because it had been almost a week since she was orally sexed by her captive, and her ‘down there’ parts were tingly with anticipation. She tried rubbing herself sometimes, but nothing could compare with a blue-frosting addict slurping away between her back legs.

Pinkie gently guided Apple Bloom's head to the places that needed special attention. "Oh, right there. That spot still has some frosting on it." She looked at the beautiful Party Pony lapping away at the frosting between her legs. She saw her Party Pony as flawless and beautiful, but in reality any sane pony could see Apple Bloom was very ill.

Pinkie was distracted by tingle, a slight magical feeling in the air. It was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her hoof on it. And then she saw it: a glow from Apple Bloom’s haunches. It must be her cutie mark. She waited for it to materialize fully. When it did, she burst out laughing so hard she peed herself, accidentally getting a little on her sex slave.

On Apple Bloom’s haunches was the brand new cutie mark the filly would wear for what little remained of her short life: a little, pink tongue.