“Ooh, sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Cake, but I gotta go! It’s an emergency!” Pinkie called out from upstairs.
“What? What kind of emergency?!” Mrs. Cake asked with worry.
“Is everything alright, Pinkie Pie?” Mr. Cake asked, watching Pinkie Pie hop down the stairs with her party cannon.
“Twilight wants to throw her birthday party in Canterlot instead of Ponyville! Rarity’s stuck in Canterlot because Opal is sick, so Twilight didn’t want Rarity to miss out on all the fun, so we’re bringing the party all the way to her instead so she doesn’t feel left out!” Pinkie said in the span of about five seconds.
The two blinked in confusion, only understanding a third of what Pinkie had actually said. “Oookay then, if you have to go, then go!” Though they didn’t completely get the situation, they knew better than to interfere with one Pinkie Pie’s party plans.
“Thank you soooo much! I’ll see if I can bring back a souvenir!” Pinkie said in a hurry, pushing her party cannon out the door.
The moment that Pinkie was out of sight, Mr. and Mrs. Cake looked at each other.
“...So, how long do you think she’ll be gone?”
“Long enough. Let’s get going.”
Without another word to each other, the two had quickly closed the shop, covered all the windows, and cleaned up the counter, entrance, and kitchen with shocking efficiency. It was as if they had rehearsed for this scenario thousands of time before.
While Carrot Cake rushed upstairs, Cup Cake ran into the kitchen opened up the fridge, pulling out a bowl of cake frosting, whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and strawberry jam. She placed all the topping down on the kitchen counter, checking to see if she forgotten anything.
Carrot Cake practically leapt down the stairs in his rush towards the kitchen. In his arms was a pair of leather-padded wooden stocks, with a small storage chest balanced on top. He nearly stumbled and fell when he got to the first floor as he rushed into the kitchen. “Do you have it?”
Cup Cake reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out two keys. “I’m always ready, honey.”
Mr. Cake smiled, “Perfect, let’s get set up.” He took the keys from his wife, sliding the first key into the lock of the stocks, and the second key into the lock of the chest, opening them both up.
As Mrs. Cake kicked off her shoes and socks and placed her feet in the stocks, Mr. Cake began looking through the chest to make sure all its contents were still there. Hairbrushes, paintbrushes, toothbrushes, combs, candles, blindfolds, whips, paddles, rope, string, handcuffs, and vibrators. Everything seemed to be in place. He grabbed the red string and handcuffs, walking over to Mrs. Cake. “So, what’s the safeword going to be?” he asked as he closed the stocks back up, turning the key to lock her ankles in.
“Hm...Cayenne sound good to you?” Mrs. Cake said, wiggling her now bound ankles.
“Cayenne it is.” Carrot Cake walked behind Cup Cake, grabbing onto her wrists and pulling them behind her back, putting the handcuffs on her. He walked back to the front of the stocks, where he put the red string to use, looping the string around her toes and through the metal rings on top of the stocks, trying her toes back to prevent any unnecessary movements.
Cup Cake started to test out the restraints, her hands were stuck a fixed distance apart behind her back, no matter how much she twisted her wrists around. She could feel the string lightly wrapped around her plump toes, and how it pushed into her if she tried to curl them. The ties on her toes also spread them slightly apart, letting a bit of the cool kitchen air run between them.
Carrot Cake’s first tool of choice was a hairbrush. He displayed it to his wife, running a finger down the bristles to show how stiff they were.
A chill went down Cup Cake’s spine upon seeing the hairbrush, although it could also be a consequence of her forgetting to close the refrigerator door.
Carrot Cake pressed the plastic-tipped bristles against the center of her right foot. He deliberately holds still as he glances over to look Cup Cake in the eyes.
Once she felt the brush make contact, Mrs. Cake’s body tensed up. Her eyes eventually locked with her husband’s, the two staring at each other in total silence. Each second that passed without any movement from Mr. Cake or the brush felt like an hour of agonizing anticipation. What was he waiting for?
Mr. Cake kept a close eye on his wife’s face, watching her eyes nervously shift away from his stare, constantly breaking eye contact to look to the side. The longer he kept her in suspense, the less time she kept making eye contact. Once he found that her fidgeting was frantic enough, he started sliding the brush down her foot.
“Heeheeeeeeeeee!” Mrs. Cake’s body tensed up when she felt the brush move down her sole, her toes instinctively pushing back against the strings.
Mr. Cake made slow strokes up and down her foot, making sure each plastic bristle got a chance to press against her sole.
The slow pace of the brush was tantalizing. It was fast to make her squirm and giggle, but too slow to do anything more than that. She felt a louder laugh bubbling up inside, but the brush lacked the proper speed to let it out, so Mrs. Cake was left with annoyed squealing and whining. “Nohohoho pleeeeaaase!”
“Please what, hon? You’re not being specific.” Mr. Cake stated, continuing the brush’s slow journey up and down her foot.
“Aaaaagh!” Mrs. Cake’s eye twitched. “P-Please tickle fasteeerrr!” she whined in frustration.
“If that’s what you want…” Mr. Cake put his free hand on top of the stocks, using it as support as he began scrubbing Mrs. Cake’s foot with the brush, the bristles moving from her heel to her toes and back down again in what seemed like the blink of an eye.
Mrs. Cake was caught off-guard by the sudden acceleration of the brush, her shaking legs starting to rattle the stocks as the heavy laughter inside her finally had an excuse to be let out.
Mr. Cake didn’t expect the safe word to be used anytime soon, but he kept an ear out just in case. The brush moved onto the left foot, giving it some much needed attention while the right foot twitched against the string.
“Hehehehaha! Hahahahaaaa! S-Stahahahap it! Staaaahahahap!” Mrs. Cake pleaded, her body rocking from side to side as the brush moved up and down.
Hearing Mrs. Cake beg was a bit troubling to hear deep down, but as long as she wasn’t saying the safe word, Mr. Cake had no intention of stopping. He decided to change tactics, pushing the brush off to the side for the moment, grabbing the combs from the chest. WIth Mrs. Cake’s toes spread apart, it was easy for him to slide the teeth in the spaces between.
“Nooohoho! N-Nahahat the toes!” Mrs. Cake tried to kick her legs to escape the tickling, but the stocks remained stationary.
“But why not? Especially since they’re so ticklish…You don’t expect me to ignore your ticklish toes, do you, dear?”
“P-Pleeeaase!” she whined, trying desperately to curl her toes up.
“But fine, if you insist, I’ll stop for a moment.” he said, laying the combs on the stocks.
He took out the blindfold, putting it over his wife’s eyes before she could even protest. “There, now that you’ve had your break, it’s time to continue,” he said, picking the combs back up.
“W-wait! H-Hold on!”
“Mmm, no, you had your break,” Mr. Cake said, ready to resume his work with the combs.
Now blindfolded, Mrs. Cake had no idea where or when the tickling was going to start. The good news for her was that there were only a few seconds for the anticipation to set in before he began tickling again. The bad news was that to her, those seconds felt like they were stretched into agonizing minutes.
Once the tickling did resume, Mr. Cake saw a significant increase in Mrs. Cake’s struggling. His speed was hardly different from before, and yet the difference the blindfold made was quite clear. Curiosity lead him to increase the speed, letting the numerous teeth of the comb rush through her toes.
“EEEYAAAHAHAHAHAAAAA!” Mrs. Cake began hopping up and down where she sat, her toes desperately trying to curl, wiggle, close up, anything to trap the comb and stop it in its tracks. Unfortunately, with the string keeping her toes back, all she could do was struggle with the rest of her body, and hope that enough effort would snap the string eventually.
Mr. Cake looked over at the tools. There were so many things to use, it was unlikely they would get to use all of it. It was a shame, because the moments when they could be alone for an extended period of time without the chance of a Pinkie interruption were few and far between. He walked over to the counter, grabbing all the sweets and toppings, knowing what to do next.
With a silicone spatula, he started spreading the cake frosting on her right foot, making sure to give her foot an even coating, even putting it between her toes. For her right foot, Mr. Cake grabbed the syrup and jam, spreading the jam across her soles, and letting the syrup drizzle down her toes.
Cup Cake stayed relatively silent as her husband started decorating her twitching feet. Not like she could do anything to defend herself from what was to come.
With his meal set up, Carrot Cake got to eating. He alternated between feet, one lick of frosting, one lick of jam, another lick of frosting, another lick of jam.
“Eeeheeheeheehee! O-Oohoohoo, that really tihihihickles!” Cup Cake started giggling uncontrollably, the tongue wasn’t as tickly as the combs or the brush, but each lick gave her chills, and made her squirm just as much as before.
Carrot Cake continued to eat the frosting and jam off Cup Cake’s feet, making sure to lick the food up before it dripped onto the floor. Eventually, he licked her soles clean, all that was left was her toes. Going from left to right, he stuck one toe at a time in his mouth, using his tongue to wipe it clean of the sweets, before moving onto the next, until he finally cleaned off her left pinky toe.
Cup Cake let out a giggly, shaky moan once she felt her toes being focused on, the tongue flicks giving her light tickles. Having Carrot Cake give so much loving attention to her feet turned her on, and without intense tickling to distract her, she made her arousal quite clear.
As much as Carrot Cake wanted to go for seconds, an idea popped into his head. While still giving small licks and kisses to her toes, he silently reached for the hairbrush.
“A-Aah, Oooh…yes...” Cup Cake shuddered, her tense body starting to relax with each loving lick against her feet, unaware of what was to become of her. “Just like that…”
Once the brush was in hand, he brought it back to Cup Cake’s foot, having the bristles hover above her soles. With one last lick, he brought the brush down, scrubbing her saliva-covered soles.
The sudden tickling sent Mrs. Cake into a temporary state of shock. Her knees jerked as she jolted, she opened her mouth, but no laughter came out. Each stroke against her feet registered in her mind, but her body showed no immediate reaction, until…
“EEEEEAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA!”
Carrot Cake grinned, there was the explosive reaction he was waiting for. He wondered how long it would take for the tickling to break her. Of course, he’d never go past his wife’s limits, but he was curious to find out just what he needed to do to get her to say that safe word.
With the brush still sliding up and down her feet, he grabbed an electric toothbrush, turning it on and letting the buzzing head slide between her toes.
Cup Cake screamed, starting to jump up and down where she sat, the one bit of movement she still had, other than shaking her head wildly from side to side. “NOOOOO! NOHOHOHOHOHO! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!”
Carrot Cake slowly rotated the brush as it stuck between her toes, making sure each side of her toes was given plenty of attention. Once he rotated it a full 180 degrees, he moved along to the next set of toes, and repeated the process.
“NOHOHOHO MOOOORE! I CAHAHAHAHAN’T TAKE IT! HAHAHAHAHAAAHAAAAA!” Tears already started to ruin the fabric of the blindfold as Cup Cake cackled. She rocked from side to side in hysterics, nearly toppling over in her wild and ultimately useless struggle. The slow turning of the brush’s bristles against her toes ensured she’d get no relief, not unless she screamed out the one word that would make it all stop. But even still, she had no reason to say it yet.
Once Carrot Cake was done sweeping the bristles between all eight space between her toes, he pressed the buzzing brush against the ball of her foot, moving it in small circles. He made sure to make his movements soft and smooth. Any quick rapid movements would defeat the entire purpose of using an electric toothbrush in the first place.
Cup Cake cried out for her husband to stop, she begged for mercy, she screamed for a break, but not once did she say the safe word. Despite all her protesting, the intense buzzing between her toes gave her a thrill that applying frosting to baked good could not grant her.
After a while, Carrot Cake frowned in frustration. It was clear that the tickling wasn’t going to be enough. Even though the things he was doing to her feet he would absolutely dread to have done to his own. There had to be something else he could do. As he looked in the case, he quickly formed another idea. He turned off the brush, put all the used tools back in the chest, and unlocked the stocks.
Cup Cake started to stir as the tickling suddenly stopped. “Are...are we done already?” she asked through her shaky breath, dazed and confused. She moved her ankles and lifted up the stocks manually with her legs, feeling a lot more freedom than she was used to.
“No, not yet.” he said, shaking his head as he helped her up to her feet. Though he helped her out of the stocks, the handcuffs and blindfold stayed on. He walked her over from the kitchen to the display counter, and leaned her body over it, right next to the cash register.
Cup Cake’s breath was still heavy after all the tickling she endured, the sensations of her still tingling soles walking across the cold kitchen floor gave a shiver with each step. Soon she was bent over something, waiting for whatever her husband was planning next.
Carrot Cake crouched down, reaching for the waistband on her yoga pants. He slowly pulled them down until they dropped to her ankles, revealing Cup Cake’s pink lace panties and plump rear.
Cup Cake let out a little murmur of unease. She could feel the air brush against her now exposed butt. Despite being sure that the shop was closed until they finished, she felt so exposed and vulnerable. Her breathing began to slow as she started to worry about what was about to happen next. Was the tickling not over? Was he planning on taking a feather to a more sensitive region? Or perhaps-
WHAP!
“Aaaah!”
Carrot Cake grinned as the palm of his hand gave her buttcheeks a forceful slap. He raised his hand and wound up for the next one.
Cup Cake let out another yelp as she felt the next smack. Her breath getting shaky as she started to feel the stinging after-effects on her right cheek. “H-Honey!? W-what are you d-?”
“Shhh…” Mr. Cake ordered, immediately following with another spank on the right side of her butt. “You’re still mine. You’re under my control until I’m finished with you, understood?”
“Y-Yes, of course…” Cup Cake nervously nodded.
“...Good.” he grinned, thinking up a plan. “Now, every time I strike, you’re going to ask me to go harder. Unless, of course...you want to say the safe word. Understood?”
“Yes dear…”
Without another word, Mr. Cake raised his hand, giving Mrs. Cake her fourth slap on her right cheek.
Mrs. Cake grit her teeth, the pain getting worse as she kept getting struck in the same spot. “H-harder…” she begged, remembering her orders.
Carrot Cake gave her rear another forceful smack, her right cheek started to glow with the pink hue to match the frosting on her cutie mark.
Cup Cake started to cry again, the pain forcing out a few tears. “Harder…”
Carrot Cake decided to show a little bit of mercy, delivering his next spank to the back of her butt, rather than her side.
The change in location provided only a small relief for Cup Cake, as the spanks still came with a sting. “H-harder!”
The process repeated, Carrot Cake would deliver another spank onto her butt, and Cup Cake would let out a little yelp, then beg for more, prompting him to deliver a harder smack in a different part on her butt. Eventually, he started spanking in quick succession, swinging his arm to deliver a hit with the back of his hand.
Mr. Cake was nearly hitting at full force, and Mrs. Cake’s butt was glowing pink due to the multiple impacts. His arm was starting to get tired from all the work he was putting in.
Mrs. Cake’s rear ached all over, and her back was starting to hurt from being hunched over the counter for so long. Each strike kept her moaning and screaming, but still, she did as she was instructed, and kept begging her husband for more.
Starting to get frustrated, Mr. Cake decided that it was time to change things up once more. He grabbed onto the lacy waistband of her panties, sliding it down until they hung at her knees. “Well, well, well...you’ve been enjoying yourself, haven’t you?” He said, using a single finger to tease her wet pussy.
“Y-Yes...I-I have…” Mrs. Cake tensed up, unsure of what was in store for her.
It was clear to Mr. Cake that his wife was set on taking any sort of fetishistic punishment he had in store. He could keep on whipping or tickling her, binding her up in all sorts of different ways to tease her, but they’d be fruitless efforts in his goal. His best chance was to stimulate her directly, and edge her until she starts begging to cum.
He kept things simple, using two fingers at most to rub at her labia, not wanting to rush her to the edge so quickly.
Unfortunately for Carrot Cake, all the tickling and spanking had worked up Cup Cake so much that even the basic finger touches proved more effective than anticipated, and she threw her head back with needy moans.
Carrot Cake immediately had to slow his pace down. He was planning on escalating things further, but didn’t anticipate how close she already was. “If you want to cum, you know what to say…”
It was at this point, Mrs. Cake caught on to what her husband was trying to do, and she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of defeat. She was close to her climax, but with his sudden slowdown, it was unlikely that he’d make her cum on accident. Despite the mind-numbing pleasure she’s been through this afternoon, she had to endure.
Carrot Cake continued his slow rubbing of her hood, occasionally sliding his finger inside, rubbing against her inner walls just for an instant to surprise her.
Cup Cake was still bent over the counter, her sore butt raised up. Sweat dripped down from her forehead as she was slowly brought to the edge of her climax, but never getting enough stimulation to push her far enough.
Carrot Cake got a little more aggressive, mixing things up by giving her clit a forceful lick, ending with a little tease with the tip of his tongue against her love bump.
Cup Cake started to babble, her concentration and resolve shattered once her clit became the focus of the sexual torment.
Carrot Cake decided to take a gamble with his next technique, and gave a few more loving licks to her clit. Three quick flicks of his tongue, and then he stopped.
Cup Cake bit down on her tongue in an attempt to temper herself and not say anything, before giving up and shouting and cursing up a storm, forcing herself to say any word that wasn’t “Cayenne”. Though she survived the lickings, she felt herself reaching her breaking point. Just when she felt the words about to leave her lips...
“Alright, you win, honey.” Carrot Cake sighed, deciding to surrender. His wife was far more tenacious and masochistic than he had remembered.
That, and he had been pent up for so long, he wasn’t going to last much longer without any direct action for himself. He lifted her back up to stand straight, removing the blindfold. “Let’s get to the real fun, shall we?”
Cup Cake blinked, finally able to see after so long. She sighed in a mix of relief and restlessness. The sexual torment had ended, but she had still not been brought to an orgasm she had been denied for so long. “Oh thank Celestia!”
Though she was still a bit woozy, she was still eager to get to the best part. She reached down and teased her husband’s shaft, feeling him throb at her fingertips.
Carrot’s cock already leaked pre at the slightest touch. He shuddered, grabbing onto her shoulders.
Cup Cake hopped back onto the counter, lying on her back and spreading her legs open, inviting her husband inside.
Carrot Cake wasted no time, he started his slow thrusts inside her, trying to get his sexual urges out while trying to not blow his load instantly just from the first few moments.
“OH! YES! RIGHT! THERE!” Cup Cake let out wild screams of satisfactory delight as she finally got pounded. She grabbed onto the edge of the counter just to make sure she didn’t fall off.
Carrot Cake grabbed right behind her knees, lifting them up so that she didn’t have to, while also providing a more convenient leverage to help him thrust the length of his throbbing horsecock in and out.
The display counter started to rock back and forth in conjunction with the Cakes. Along with their moaning, it created a racket that would draw suspicious looks from anyone outside the shop that happened to be casually strolling by.
Carrot Cake could feel himself about to erupt, looking down at his wife’s frazzled face, he started pumping himself into her plump pussy as fast as his body could go.
Cup Cake began pounding the wooden countertop with her fist, her toes curled as she felt the definitive thrust hit her.
With a loud moan from both of them that someone outside more than likely heard, the two had gotten the orgasm they’ve been working so hard for at around the same time. Drained both mentally and physically, they spent some precious, peaceful, silent moments relaxing in each other’s embrace.
After the afterglow had worn off, and everything was cleaned up and put away. Pinkie had returned, none the wiser.
A few days had passed since that passionate afternoon, and the news that Mrs. Cake was now pregnant came as a surprise to Mr. Cake, and a delight to Pinkie, who was eavesdropping. However, the biggest surprise came a few months later, when the doctor had informed the couple of what they needed to plan for.
“Twins!?”
