Too Many Stinky Pies

“Happy birthday to… me…” your voice cracks as you mournfully finish the song, and you blow out the single candle in the cupcake. In a bare apartment, in a city where you don’t know a single soul, you celebrate your birthday alone.

And then a smile cracks on your face. Actually, you’re pretty excited about this new chapter in your life: leaving behind your old town was tough, but you’re starting your dream job tomorrow. But when you saw a cozy little bakery just down the street from your apartment building, you got the idea to act out a little “sad, lonely birthday” scenario for yourself.

Theatrics aside, though, you are celebrating your birthday alone, and that kinda sucks. But sooner or later you’ll make a friend, right?

There’s a knock at the door, and you sit up in surprise. You’re not expecting anyone, but… maybe someone saw you move in? Could be one of your new neighbors. Might as well start your new life off on a sociable foot. You rise to your feet and walk to the door.

Still a bit cautious, you peer through the peephole - and jerk back slightly as you’re confronted by an enormous blue eye. Whoever’s on the other side, it seems, has their face right up against the other side. The peephole’s lens makes their eye seem incredibly large, too. It’s all you can see.

“Hiii!” chirps a voice from the other side of the door. “Just wanted to meet my new neighbor!”

The voice is feminine, and very friendly. Even if you still haven’t gotten a good look at her, you feel pretty good about opening the door.

You pull the door open, and… oh wow. At first you’re not quite sure what you’re looking at. She’s a woman, you weren’t wrong about that. But she’s huge. Not just tall - seven feet if she’s an inch - but wide. She’s wider than the door.

But her size isn’t what’s strange about her. She’s pink. Not just rosy - every inch of her that you can see is cotton-candy pink. Her face sports a stubby equine snout, and her eyes… well, it wasn’t just the peephole that made them look big. They’re just bigger than human eyes.

And based on what you’re seeing, all these details add up to one conclusion. The creature standing before you is Pinkie Pie. Even her voice is the same, now that you think about it. But she’s not a pony; she’s standing upright, with arms that end in hands and… a prominent bust resting on her enormous belly. She’s also wearing clothes: a purple blouse with puffy sleeves, a short polka-dotted skirt, and below that… no, it can’t be what you think it is.

Setting that aside, though… she’s actually really hot. Not a lot of guys would be into that big belly, but it’s definitely your thing. Pinkie Pie appearing at your door makes no goddamn sense, but it’s hard to be too upset about it.

“Hey, neighbor!” she says, smiling down at you with bright eyes. “I’m Pinkie Pie! I thought you seemed lonely, so I thought I’d come by!”

“Wait,” you say, raising your finger. “So… you, Pinkie Pie, are my neighbor? You live in these apartments? And… hang on, you thought I seemed lonely? Based on what?”

“Aw, don’t worry about it!” says Pinkie Pie. “Pinkie’s here, and that means it’s a party!” Before you can react, she throws her chubby arms around you and lifts you up into a hug. Her flabby belly is pillow-soft, and it feels like you sink halfway into it when she hugs you. Your face is buried between her tits, and while you’re shocked at her strength, it feels amazing to be held like this.

Pinkie releases you, setting you back down on the floor. “Mind if I keep you company?” she asks. “You seem like a fun guy to hang out with! Ooh!” She leans to the side, looking past you at the coffee table on the other side of the room. “You have cupcakes!”

She barges past you, bumping you aside with her belly as she waddles across the floor. There’s a strange crinkling sound every time she moves her legs… but that can’t really mean what you think it means, can it?

Pinkie sits her wide ass on your couch - one of the few pieces of furniture your new apartment has - and starts grabbing cupcakes from the box on your coffee table. She puts one cupcake in her mouth whole - and after chewing for a moment, she swallows and pops the second one in her mouth. And she already has two more cupcakes, one in each hand, ready to eat.

Your instinctive reaction is to be offended. She just charged into your apartment and started eating your cupcakes. A lot of them, without even asking.

But then you realize that you didn’t buy a lot of cupcakes. You bought one cupcake for your lonely birthday party. But now there’s a box on the table, a box with eight cupcakes still in it. What the hell?

You feel like you should be unnerved, but Pinkie is just so friendly that it’s hard to be frightened. You take a seat beside her - and without hesitating, she puts her arm around you, pulling you close. Again, you sink into her belly, settling into the soft, warm flab. “Let’s have some fun!” says Pinkie. “Ooh, you got games!”

Your game system is about the only thing other than your couch that you set up. Pinkie reaches forward and grabs two controllers, placing one into your hand. “What have you got? I wanna play a racing game!” She turns on the system, then navigates the menu with one hand while she shovels cupcakes into her mouth with the other.

It happens that you do have a kart racing game already installed, a Mario Kart knockoff that’s fun enough as long as you don’t care too much about winning. The items aren’t that well balanced and the rubber-banding is a bit much, but it’s fine for parties.

You start up a match, and soon you’re getting into it. It makes no sense that you’re sitting next to Pinkie Pie, a character from a cartoon show… but it’s nice to have a friend. And it’s kind of extra nice that she’s got this big pillowy belly that you can lean against. You’re getting pretty turned on, actually… which feels weird, since you’re still not sure she’s even real.

She’s having a good time, though. She gets really excited every time she gets a good item or takes the lead, although she’d probably be doing better if she didn’t stop every so often to shovel another cupcake into her mouth. Even for a girl as big as her, she’s really putting those cupcakes away. She must have eaten twenty of them by now…

Wait, twenty? The box on the table only held a dozen. And even that box wasn’t there at first - it was just the one cupcake you bought for yourself. You look down at the box of cupcakes - it’s still sized to hold a dozen, but there are nine left in the box. And she’s been eating them constantly.

“Uh, Pinkie?” you say, unsure how to ask the question you have in mind. “So, uh, the cupcakes…”

“They’re really good!” says Pinkie. “They’re from the bakery down the street, right? I hope it’s okay that I took a few… there’s still plenty left for you!”

You look back down at the box, which now holds a full dozen. Goddamn it. “Pinkie, what is going on?” you ask weakly.

“We’re just hanging out!” says Pinkie. “We’re just hanging out, playing some games, eating some cupcakes! What’s wrong - are you nervous about having a girl in your apartment?”

“No, that’s really not it-”

“Nah, I get it!” she says. “Even for a cute guy like you, a sexy girl on your couch can be pretty nerve-wracking! How about I do something to make myself less intimidating?”

Before you can answer, Pinkie leans away from you, lifting one giant buttcheek off the couch. Her face scrunches in concentration, and she releases a long, low fart, an emission that makes your body rattle with the sound of it.

BWUUUUUUMP!

The air fills with the scent of Pinkie’s poot. And it’s a real stinker; being a cartoon pony doesn’t imbue her farts with the fragrance of cotton candy or anything. You should be grossed out… but you’ve always been into that sort of thing. Having a pretty girl release a huge fart right next to you is actually a huge turn-on, and your persistent half-chub grows into a full erection.

“Wow, that was a big one, huh?” says Pinkie. “When a girl farts in front of you, that kinda kills the mystique, right? So now you can just think of me as a regular ol’ friend!” Her mouth curls into a sly grin. “Hmm, it still looks like you’re nervous… maybe I better fart some more! Don’t worry, you pal Pinkie’s gonna keep on farting till there’s no more tension left between us!”

You don’t really know what to say to that, so you just start another round of kart racing. But this time, Pinkie does more than get excited when something good happens - she farts. Sometimes long, sometimes abrupt, but always loud - and increasingly, she’s filling the air with her powerfully smelly gas. And while most people would be retching, you’re more and more turned on, your hard cock twitching with every burst of gas from Pinkie’s giant butt.

And she’s not just farting - she’s slowly inching herself onto your lap. Each time she farts, she’s a little closer: first she’s blasting gas on your outer thigh, then she scoots just a little bit closer. By the time the your kart crosses the finish line, you’re leaning around her to see the screen, and she’s farting directly on your crotch.

And when you prod at the garment she’s wearing under her skirt, you realize you’ve been right all along: she’s wearing a diaper. “Uh, Pinkie?” you say, and she turns her head to smile at you. She’s sitting directly on your lap now, which isn’t so bad, despite her size; she doesn’t seem to weigh quite as much as she should.

“Uh-huh?” she says cheerfully. “Are these farts doing the job? Just say the word and I’ll give you more! I can fart all day if I have to!”

“Uh… I just wanted to ask… are you wearing a diaper?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay… why?”

Pinkie Pie giggles. “So I can do this, silly!” She closes her eyes and clenches her fists… and you hear her diaper crinkling as something pushes its way into it. She’s pooping. She’s pooping her diaper right in front of you. Not just right in front of you - she’s sitting on your lap, and as she fills her diaper you feel the mass settling into your crotch.

And it’s an even bigger turn-on than her body, even bigger than the farting. You’re so into this… and you’re pretty sure Pinkie knows what she’s doing to you. She looks over her shoulder, smiling innocently at you. “Hey, it’s okay for me to poop my diaper, right?”

“Uh, I guess?”

“Okay, good!” says Pinkie. Her smile becomes less innocent. “Because it’d be super rude of me to make big stinky poopies in my diaper if it just so happened that you were… turned on by that sort of thing.” She grunts, pushing more smelly mess into her diaper. “But you’re not, right?”

“No,” you manage to choke out.

“Yeah, you’re not aroused by any of this, right?” she says mockingly. “I bet if I went into your computer I wouldn’t find one single picture of anthro ponies pooping their diapers, would I? No drawings of me unloading massive messes in my pony pampers?” She grunts again, and her diaper swells with poop, actually lifting her up slightly as the mess grows bigger.

“And since you’re not turned on right now, I can do this…” She begins to move her hips back and forth, using her big poopy diaper to stroke your cock through your pants. “... and you won’t even cum!”

You lean back, groaning, as Pinkie mashes her messy diaper into you, still filling it with more and more poop. You should tell her to stop - but you’re absolutely loving this. She’s so big, and she’s pooping endlessly into a diaper that seems to have limitless capacity. As you look down, you see her diaper - lightly tinged brown by the mess within - growing over the sides of your lap, completely enveloping your thighs. But it doesn’t leak - it holds every ounce of her poop as she moves back and forth, stroking your hard cock with her messy diaper. “Mmm, my stinky poopy diaper is so gross, isn’t it?” she says. “Not sexy at all. I bet my big smelly poopies aren’t gonna make you cum, are they? Not even a little bit!”

And then you cum. Groaning, squirming underneath Pinkie’s big pink butt and her enormous brown mess, you jizz straight into your boxers and go limp. “Oh, maybe I was wrong,” says Pinkie. “Maybe you’re a poopy pervert! Well, do you wanna know a secret? Pinkie’s a poopy pervert too! Maybe me and my big messy diaper should stick around, huh? Maybe we could turn your new apartment into Pinkie’s poopy party zone?”

“Okay, sure,” you whisper, too drained - and confused - to argue.