It started as a normal day. Not a bright or sunny day, because the human world lacked the foresight to have someone actually do something about the weather and contented themselves with talking about the weather and making some guesses about what it would do.
On this normal day, something terribly abnormal was happening at Sugarcube Corner.
No, Pinkie Pie wasn’t the abnormal thing. She was there all the time.
What was abnormal was what she was baking.
“What should I call them?” Pinkie asked herself, looking into the oven. “A combination donut and cupcake… maybe a ponut, since it’s a pastry donut? Nah, that’ll never catch on.”
“Pinkie, it’s almost time for you to leave for school!” Mrs Cake yelled, from the back room.
“Five more minutes!” Pinkie yelled back.
“Just remember if you’re late again, your parents aren’t going to let you come over and help with the morning rush!”
Pinkie watched the clock intently. She wasn’t going to make it in time.
She clutched the crystal pendant around her neck. Or would she?
Pinkie stuck out her tongue, focusing and trying to speed up the oven. There had to be a way to make things bake faster with magic, right? She was good at parties, and baking, and making things explode, and baking. And she was very good at baking, which was why she counted it twice in her list.
The oven started glowing pink, and the pastries inside firmed up before the door popped open with a burst of confetti and a victorious anthem.
“Huh. I didn’t even put confetti in the oven today!” Pinkie scratched her head. “I guess I must have done it and forgotten about it! You’re the best at surprises, Pinkie! You even do it to yourself!”
She quickly frosted the donut-shaped cupcakes in bright pink and stepped back to look at them. They’d closed up more than she would have liked, the hole in the middle having closed up to a tight pucker. It looked inviting, warm, and tasty. And something about it made her blush, like she was looking right at-
“Pinkie, you’re going to be late!” Mrs. Cake yelled.
Pinkie jumped in surprise, losing her train of thought and dashing for the exit, grabbing her backpack.
“I put today’s special out on the back counter!” She called out from the doorway. “I’ll be back after class!”
Pinkie ran out without waiting for a reply.
Mr. Cake was humming to himself as he walked into the back room. It was always a fifty-fifty chance when Pinkie was left to make the day’s special if it was going to be something amazing or something that sat on the shelf all day. The rhubarb-raspberry-red velvet hadn’t gone well yesterday and he was hoping for a winner today.
What he found were two dozen tight, pink, rings.
“Huh,” he said, rubbing his chin. “There’s something about them…”
Mr. Cake picked one up, squeezing it. It felt a little rubbery, but was still warm, even an hour after Pinkie had baked it.
He gingerly licked it.
Miles away, in class, Pinkie’s eyes went wide, and she almost leapt from her seat.
“Miss Pie, is something wrong?” Cheerilee asked.
Applejack looked over at her, raising an eyebrow.
“I, um-” Pinkie’s cheeks turned red. “No, it’s-”
She felt, distinctly, a tongue slide across her anus.
“I NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!” She yelled, running for the door.
“Huh, that’s weird,” Mr. Cake said. He licked it again. It was sweet and salty, and intensely warm on the inside. He dipped his tongue into the taut ring, and it spread a little, not tearing but stretching, like rubbery fondant.
Pinkie grabbed the sink and gasped, bending over.
“W-what’s happening to my butt?!”
She groaned, tensing as she felt her anus spread on its own, feeling something warm and wet searching inside. Pinkie panted and moaned, her breath fogging the mirror as she struggled to keep quiet, something she had little practice with.
After a few minutes, the feeling faded, and she struggled to get control of herself, her legs shaking.
Mr. Cake ate the last of the cupcake donut. The flavor had been odd but pleasant.
“What did she put in these?”
He looked around the room. His wife was busy at the front counter, and for some reason, after eating the dessert treat he was feeling awfully frisky. And the tight pink cakes were invitingly rubbery and tight, and still warm despite how long they’d sat out...
Mr. Cake picked one up and licked the tight hole, lubricating it.
Pinkie fell over as the sensation returned, her butthole spreading open thanks to an invisible tongue.
“W-why is my butt haunted?!” Pinkie cried out, before something started pressing into it, a stiff, hot rod stretching her open as it pushed inside, deeper and deeper.
She spread her legs, pushing her butt out, her body responding to the violation on its own, her panties damp.
"Be gentle, butt ghost!"
Mr. Cake’s eyes went wide as the cupcake around his cock tightened, like it was gripping around his rock-hard member.
“What in the heck did Pinkie do to these?” He slid the ring up and down his now frosting-covered penis, the tight hole in the cupcake pressing tight around it.
“Carrot? Are you in here?” Mrs. Cake opened the door, revealing her husband standing in the back room of the bakery with his pants down and his cock inside a pastry.
“I can explain!” He said, quickly.
“Are you fucking the baked goods? Again?” She sighed. “I swear, after last time when we almost got caught by the health inspector…”
“Pinkie still hasn’t figured out the secret ingredient we used in the cream filling that day,” he mumbled, blushing.
“And you got yourself all messy!” Mrs. Cake put her hands on her hips. “Look at all that frosting! We’re just going to have to get you all cleaned up…”
Pinkie grunted and panted as the invisible rod fucked her hard and deep, with no regard for what she wanted, taking her like she was just a toy. Her hand had found its way into her panties without her being able to control it, and she rubbed her slit as the force had its way with her, unable to stop herself.
The thrusting stopped suddenly, her asshole gaping open, the sensation starting to fade.
“I-I can’t take this…” she moaned, shivering. If this went on much longer, she’d lose it. Even one more thrust, and-
She felt something move, like a tongue licking deep inside her, along the phantom dong holding her backdoor open.
Pinkie screamed as she came harder than she’d ever come before in her life.
Mrs Cake bobbed her head along her husband’s cock, licking the delicious icing off his manhood as she took it nearly to the base, her nose pressing against the pastry he’d been making love to.
Her husband leaned back against the counter, letting her work his shaft. She took it all the way into her throat, lapping at his sensitive underside, sliding the tip of her tongue between the cupcake and his tool.
“Just like that, honey,” he moaned. “I hope you’re ready to taste the special filling…”
Mrs Cake rolled her eyes and reached around the pastry to squeeze her man’s balls.
Carrot squeaked and his rod throbbed with heat, baby batter splattering against the back of his wife’s throat. She kept squeezing his sack, draining him, until he pulled free, one last splatter landing on the pastry as it slid free of his softening rocket.
“That was amazing,” he panted.
“You better have more for me later,” she said, winking. She took the cupcake and licked her husband’s seed from it before eating it. “I’m better than a pastry and you know it.”
Pinkie looked up at the people who had found her in the bathroom, her panties down around her ankles and her juices and, oddly, frosting, dripping down her inner thighs.
“I think something weird is going on,” she panted. “At least it’s over.”
Mr. Cake hummed a happy tune as he worked the counter, still feeling a buzz.
“What are those?” Principal Celestia asked, pointing at the daily special.
“Something new Pinkie was trying out,” Carrot said. “A combination of a donut and a cupcake, I think. They’re pretty good! I had one this morning myself.”
“I’ll take two dozen,” Celestia decided. “They’ll be perfect for the PTA meeting!”
Author's Note
Okay so I'm sure you have many questions. Primary among them would by "Why", sometimes by itself, sometimes with qualifiers like "why would you write this" or "why did I read this" or maybe even "why was this kinda hot".
I don't have answers.
Normally I'd give thanks to prereaders but instead I'd like to apologize to them and anyone else who read this.
