Mr Cake's Pink Predicament

by ARBPW

Rating: mature
Tags: Random
Length: 3247

Mr Cake has a very strange obsession. Cue Pinkie discovering it.

Mr Cake wants some quality time to himself. But can he indulge in a personal fantasy of his without getting caught by a certain pink pony?

A word of caution. This story contains the wearing and use of diapers. There's nothing sexually explicit involved, but I wouldn't read this if you hold objections to this kind of material.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-09-15 07:34:01 UTC

Mr Cake's Pink Predicament

Mr Cake’s Pink Predicament

Typical. Just typical.

Mr Cake stood at the back of the Ponyville general store, perusing the aisles for the perfect product. His search had begun hesitantly as the shop was occupied by two other ponies: a second customer and the clerk, who was busy flicking through a magazine with a lazy hoof. But after five minutes of looking, he had found what he had been looking for; the bottom shelf that was tucked away at the back, which was stocked with a variety of diapers.

They never have the right size...he thought. At least not of the thick and fluffy kind anyway.

He scanned the shelf of ‘Health and Comfort’ products and took note of the different brands of diapers. Of the various types available, only two of the packages boasted of being ‘Large size’, and from previous experience they were still rather tight. Too tight to be enjoyable.

But then his eyes caught a glimpse of another package nestled at the back of the shelf. Reaching for it, he pulled it from its hiding place and read the label with a raised brow.

Poise Nighttime Panties... for mares?

The writing was fancy and dignified, as if it was trying to disguise the dirty business that the garments within were intended for. The image on the back concerned Mr Cake even more; the diapers themselves were a plain white, but with frilly pink lace lining the leg holes and waistband. But there were two distinct advantages which he spotted. Firstly, these diapers were slightly more expensive than the rest, which probably reflected the thickness and fluffiness of the material within. Secondly, and more importantly, they were the perfect size for him: Extra Large.

Well, he thought,I suppose I could try them just this once. It’s not like anypony is going to see me in them anyway. A sly grin crossed his face. And if somepony sees me walking back with them, I’ll just say they’re for Mrs Cake!

He trotted to the counter with the package in his mouth, placing it in front of the clerk. He was slightly unnerved by the lazy pony’s smile.

“You are aware that these are the mare’s variety sir?” the tilly asked. Mr Cake faked his best face of disgust and annoyance before replying.

“EXCUSE me, but these happen to be for my wife!”

Before the pony could respond, Mr Cake had already scattered the bits over the top of the counter. He walked out of the shop while faking a huff, wondering if he overdid it slightly.

This is why I don’t buy diapers in Ponyville...

The afternoon soon was at its brightest and hottest as Mr Cake made his way back to his shop as quickly and as stealthily as possible. Even though he had an explanation for the diapers that might shift suspicion from him, he was still mindful of his wife’s reputation. The last thing he wanted was to spread a rumour concerning Mrs Cake and some certain padded garments.

During the walk home, he reflected on just what compelled him to risk disgrace and humiliation for the sake of a strange obsession. His mind wandered back to where he thought it all began, back to when he was just a young colt. Near Hearth’s Warming Eve one year, his school had decided to hold a play on ‘Rudolph the Red-horned Unicorn’, and he had been chosen to take the starring role as the titular pony. There was just one problem, aside from the lack of a horn. He suffered from crippling stage fright.

The stage was set, and the performance was underway. But when it was time for Rudolph to appear and spread Hearth’s Warming cheer, Mr Cake inched onto the stage with trembling hooves, dressed in tight, thick clothing to fit in with the winter theme. He stared at the millions of faces in the audience, trying to force the words out. But they wouldn’t come. The only thing that followed was a warm and wet sensation pooling in his nether regions. It was lucky that nopony, save for his teacher, had noticed his accident as he fled the stage with tears streaming down his face.

However, after the initial shock and embarrassment had worn off and his dampened costume removed, he felt strangely satisfied. Not because he had escaped, but because of the warm and unexpected comfort that relieving himself brought, as if he had released the pressure and anxiety from within himself. After becoming extremely curious from his experience, he had tried to mimic the feeling whilst growing up, finding that a diaper was the best way to go. He would secretly make trips to the nearby towns and satisfy his needs in secret whenever the opportunity arose. He even acquired a taste for messing along the way after deciding to experiment at one point.

But soon the number of ponies in his life began to multiply, and it became harder and harder for him to find the opportunity to indulge in his fantasy. He was lucky if he could sneak in one chance at using a diaper every couple of months without suspicion. Today presented one of those chances, and by Celestia he wasn’t going to let it go.

Once he had made his way inside his shop, he immediately locked the door and trotted upstairs to the living area. He went straight to his bedroom, certain that nopony was inside the building with him; Mrs Cake was busy taking Pumpkin and Pound Cake on a playdate, and Pinkie Pie would arrive to babysit as soon as they got back. For the next two hours, it was just Mr Cake andPoise Nighttime Panties.

“Okay, I’ll use them just this once,” he said, “but after this it’s back to the regular kind.”

He opened the pack of diapers and removed one of them. They looked much thicker than the image on the wrapping suggested, and he prodded the material inside it with his hoof. They were unbelievably soft and fluffy, vastly more so than the diapers he was used to. It was like stroking a cloud. He positioned himself to pull it up his hind legs while smirking to himself.

“It seems that mares have all the fun,” he remarked as he pulled the diaper up to his rear, feeling instantly satisfied from the hugging plushness of the padding within. He maneuvered his tail through the small hole at the back, thinking about how tricky it was compared to diapering one of his foals, and the soft cushioning formed a comfortable grip on his bottom. He waddled over to his bedroom mirror, blushing as he caught sight of the diaper’s pink lace around the tops of his legs and around his body. Surprisingly, he suited it quite well.

Finally, he was ready. It was the moment that Mr Cake had been waiting weeks for. The moment where he could feel innocent and secure. The moment where he could be himself, by himself. The moment—

“Hey Mr Caaaaaake!”

—that a loud pony calling for him would interrupt. His pupils shrank as he heard the high pitched shout, recognising who it was instantly, and he felt a faint vibration coming from the hallway. Pinkie Pie had invited herself inside, and she was coming up the stairs!

“I... Umm... Give me a second, Pinkie!” he yelled, a bead of cold sweat beginning to roll down his forehead. He tried to remove the tight diaper, but his nervous and panicking hooves just couldn’t push the pull up down his legs. He watched in horror as the doorknob began to turn, and he took immediate action. Springing forwards, he leapt for the door and opened it slightly, poking his head through so as to obscure the rest of his body from sight. He was met with the view of a grinning pink pony.

“IIIIt’s thursday!” Pinkie shouted. There was a small explosion of confetti from a device on her flank as she threw her hooves in the air, creating a dramatic pose. Mr Cake looked at her with a raised brow and a quivering smile.

“Pinkie,” he said with a slight stammer, “you’re a little early aren’t you? The twins are on a playdate for a couple of hours. What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I went over Twilight’s house to ask if she wanted to hang out but she was all like ‘Sorry, gotta lotta studying to catch up on’ so I was all like ‘Okie dokie!’ so I went to Rainbow Dash’s after hitching a balloon ride which was super fun! But she was all like ‘Nah, need to practise for the big flight show coming up’ so I was all like ‘Okie dokie’ there too, so I thought ‘Hey, I should throw a surprise party for my two favourite foals!’ So here I am!”

She panted and wheezed after recounting her story, the colour slowly returning to her cheeks. Mr Cake had been staring at her mouth the entire time, watching in amazement as her lips moved at an almost blinding pace. Once the pink pony had caught her breath, he finally spoke up.

“Well... If you want to plan a party, go right ahead! I don’t mind. Just keep it quiet, all right?”

“Okie dokie!” Pinkie said in the usual gleeful rhythm as she bounced down the corridor. Before he could close the door and resume his business, Mr Cake was once again interrupted by the party pony.

“Say, wat’cha doin’ in there anyway?” she asked as she attempted to lean past the doorway. He closed the door almost completely, turning himself behind it to block the view of his padded rear from her prying eyes.

“I’m... Uh... making cakes!” He began to sweat buckets now. “Super secret cakes with a new recipe that not even Mrs Cake knows!”

He heard Pinkie gasp. “You’re making cakes in the bedroom? Let me try, let me try! Pleeeease! I won’t tell anypony about the recipe, I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die and stick a cupcake in my eye!”

“Sorry, but it’s top secret. Not even you can know!”

“Aw come on! Pleeeease!”

He sighed. How was he going to have his private time when the chatty pony on the other side of the door just wouldn’t leave him alone? Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind.

“Pinkie, if you want a cake that much you can have one after you’re done preparing for your party. I need a little time to get the mixture just right!”

A long moment of silence passed before he heard the galloping of hooves from the corridor. Had she bought it? He gingerly opened the door and peeked outside. Not a single pink pony was to be found.

He exhaled and wiped the sweat from his brow, closing the door. If Pinkie was so desperate for her non-existent cake, she would stay out of his way for at least twenty minutes. That would be more than enough time to enjoy himself, even though he knew that he had made another problem. He shrugged, thinking that he could just say that the recipe was a disaster.

Sometimes I wonder why we gave her a spare key, he thought. He waddled over to the pack of diapers on his bed, the plasticky exterior of his own garment crinkling as he moved. He stashed them in his usual hiding spot, which was under a loose floorboard near the wall, just under the bed.

Finally, he was alone. He hadn’t noticed it before, but his bladder was now whining for release after his close encounter with Pinkie, and he wasn’t going to deny it relief for a second longer. He held his breath, took up a squatting position, closed his eyes and released.

He quivered as a gentle flow of urine began to sink into the padding, the warmth and wetness bringing blissful comfort to him. It spread from the front to the bottom slowly as he took his to pee, and he enjoyed every guilty moment that the damp padding provided. He looked at the diaper, grinning at the puffiness and slight yellow hue the front had taken. Once the flow was down to the last few drops, he exerted himself to make sure he had emptied his bladder fully. To his surprise, a small lump of poop emerged instead.

“Well,” he whispered, “I suppose it’s time to see how it handles the other end.”

He positioned himself into a deeper squat and grunted. Slowly the manure emerged, forming a small bulge at the back of his diaper. He kept pushing, and soon the warm mess began to flow with a strong, pungent odor. With a sigh, he smiled as he felt the soft, mushy poop push against his hindquarters and towards the bottom of the diaper; It felt as if he was slowly sinking into warm cake mixture. The pace quickly slowed, but he was more than satisfied with the curiously comforting sensation that his messing had brought him. Once the flow of manure had ceased, he pushed himself a little harder to make sure nothing was left. When his efforts brought him just a brief blast of gas, he knew that he was finished. Looking back, he prodded the back of the squishy, sagging diaper and blushed as he felt the mess press against his rear.

Mr Cake wished that he could bask in the moment for just a little longer, but he knew that time was short. Soon, Pinkie would finish preparing her surprise party. Before then, he would make sure that all evidence of his guilty pleasure was well and truly disposed of. He began to creep towards the bathroom opposite to the bedroom—

Creak

—only to freeze and stare with wide, terrified eyes as the bedroom door slowly opened in front of him. He gasped, looking in every direction for a place to escape or hide in from the intruder. But it was hopeless. With only one option available, he slammed his diapered rear on the floor in an effort to disguise it. As he did so, the squishy manure inside spread about his bottom, forcing him to try and resist the urge to blush from the warm and soft sensation. He watched in horror as Pinkie bounced through the doorway.

“I’m all done Mr-- WOAH!” she exclaimed as she entered, holding her nose after catching a whiff of Mr Cake’s messy diaper. He began to sweat profusely, shifting his eyes about. There was no hiding now.

“P-P-Pinkie Pie! I told you not to come in here!”

The pink pony took a deep breath through her mouth, walking slowly towards him. “What’s going on? Where are the cakes? And why are you wearing-”

Mr Cake winced as Pinkie gave an almighty gasp.

“Is that a DIAPER?!”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood slowly and turned to the side and revealed his padded rear to her, knowing it was useless to lie. He dared not to look at her, the burning shame inside of him setting his cheeks alight with a furious flush. Many silent seconds passed as Pinkie stared at the frilly diaper. She finally spoke up once she saw a single tear roll down Mr Cake’s face.

“You...” Suddenly, Pinkie’s face exploded into a beaming smile. “You look really cute in that!”

Mr Cake immediately looked at her, his eyes like saucers. Did she honestly just say that?

“I... I do?”

“Yep!” she replied. “That pink lace stuff just makes you look super duper cute! Like a little itty bitty--”

Before she could finish, Mr Cake placed a hoof over her luth. “I... But... You are aware that this is a diaper, right?”

Pinkie smiled and nodded.

“A diaper which I’ve... well... used, yes?”

She nodded again. He removed his hoof from her mouth, his brow raised with concern. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Of course!” Pinkie replied. “It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve walked in on a padded up pony. I’ve even used one myself!”

Mr Cake’s jaw dropped. “You have?!”

“Sure! I didn’t like it much though. Well, wearing them is soooo comfy, but the wetting and messing... Then again, I shouldn’t have gone in it anyway. Fluttershy was like ‘No Pinkie! Please don’t mess yourself in the house!’, which kind of spoiled her private adult foal party...”

She stopped chattering after realising that she had said too much. Mr Cake blinked at her, unable to absorb the fact that his babysitter approved of such practises. That, and her shy pegasus friend liked them too? He began to wonder just how many ponies enjoyed wearing diapers, even if it wasn’t for the same reasons as him.

“Now, looks like my favourite filly needs a changy-wangy for her diapy-wipey!” she chirped. The stallion shook his head, wondering why he was, according to Pinkie, a filly now. But then he remembered; The frilly pink lace. That, and the feeling of warmth and comfort around his hindquarters had been replaced by a cold and clammy sensation.

“So... does that mean you’re offering to--”

“Yep!” Pinkie interrupted. “Just get me a fresh one and I’ll have you all diapered up faster than a sonic rainboom!”

Mr Cake obliged, trotting to the spot where he had hidden the package. Even though being changed by Pinkie seemed strange to him, it also seemed exciting. He had never been able to ask for assistance with his habit, so he always had to perform the messy business of cleaning up by himself. He removed one of the padded garments from the pack and followed Pinkie into the bathroom, where she had already prepared a blanket on the floor and various changing supplies. She told him to lie flat on his back. Once she had taken position, she carefully removed his messy diaper, twisting her face her face as she caught a whiff of the contents.

“Woah, man!” Now those were not what I was expecting when you said you were making cakes!”

Pinkie wrapped up the dirty diaper and proceeded to wipe the poop from Mr Cake’s backside. Afterwards, she gave his hindquarters a quick blast of powder before dressing him in the fresh padding.

“There! All done ‘Little Miss Cake’,” she joked as Mr Cake smiled at her. He rolled himself upright and began to walk on the spot slowly. The clean and fluffy feeling was much more enjoyable after it replaced the cold and wet sensation from before.

“Oh Pinkie,” he said while turning his body, as if he was modelling, “these frills don’t make me look that girly... Do they?”

“I don’t know...” she said, stroking her chin. “All you need is a bonnet and a little pink dress, and then I’d have a filly all for myself!”

Both were sent into a short fit of giggles. But Mr Cake’s smile faded quickly as he remembered just how close he had came to having his secret exposed. Sheepishly, he looked at Pinkie.

“Listen, can we keep this between the two of us? I...I’m sorry that you had to see--”

Pinkie gently placed a hoof over his lips while smiling at him sweetly. “It’s all right. I shouldn’t have just came bouncing through without asking you first. But can I give you a little advice?”

Mr Cake nodded.

“Next time, so I’ll get the message, just say you’re cooking up some more ‘baked bads’.”

The End