Good Things Cum to Those Who Bake
Hidden by the storefront counter, Pinkie's hips squirmed. With her forelegs propped against the surface, she hopped from one hindhoof to the other in a jittery dance. Right to left, left to right, right to left once more.
Her tail twitched alongside, planted square between her chubby thighs to prevent any potential backstage peeks. Although should anyone have seen her from behind, they'd get a first class view of fat jiggling Pinkie ass, more supple than any dough she'd rolled in all her years at Sugarcube Corner.
Baby blues rotated focus on three points of the building - the entrance door, the calendar, and the ticking clock.
The last read 7:45 AM, and nopony had yet to come through the first. But that made sense. This early in the morning, ponies were still waking up, had yet to wake up, or were getting ready for work.
She'd see the first influx of customers between 8 to 9, Then, another crowd around lunchtime, and one more after 5, before the Cakes closed up shop at 7. Sometimes, it startled her how well she remembered those numbers, but years of faithful service had baked them into her brain.
Taking orders and interacting with ponies never failed to put a smile on her face. She loved that aspect of her job, but it wasn't all hustle and bustle. Between customers she had to deal with the lulls, and those were the worst. Nopony to talk to meant boredom, and boredom was bad enough on any ordinary day.
Today was not an ordinary day.
She glanced towards the calendar again. Circled in red marker it said 'Wednesday, November 3rd'.
Horseapples.
Only the third, and she was already getting the jerk-off jitters. Wondering how she could possibly get through the rest of the month, Pinkie looked down between her legs.
The reminder of how stared back, bobbing against her pudgey belly. Aroundd it, streams of magenta magic looped and criss-crossed to form a tight, magical chastity cage.
Twilight explained the principles some days earlier. Unlike a standard metal cage that kept the member sheathed at all times, one made from mana possessed far greater flexibility and utility. If and when Twilight so wanted, she could allow Pinkie to reach full erection without sacrificing its primary purpose - that being to prevent orgasm. That, among various other things Pinkie didn't know, and couldn't even begin to guess.
At the time it sounded fun. Now, Pinkie wasn't so sure.
It was also too late.
She'd have been better off not knowing about No Nut November. Alas she did, and now she was here. No point in stewing over it though when she could do nothing about it, more out of her own stubbornness than anything.
Her tail twitched impatiently, and her mind turned towards revenge. Maybe once she survived the month she'd take her vengeance on the one who told her about it - Rainbow Dash.
In the form of pranks, of course. Pinkie Pie was not an entirely merciful pony, but she'd never do any real harm.
Except maybe psychological, once in a while.
She remembered how she learned of the challenge. During one of her prank-planning sessions with the Wonderbolt, Pinkie mentioned something about party poppers, or nut milk, or big, long, girthy balloons. She couldn't quite recall what had triggered it, but Dash had burst into a cackling fit at her unintentional innuendo.
After wiping tears from her eyes, Rainbow collected herself, and launched into an explanation about this 'thing' that a few of the Wonderbolts were doing. This 'thing' they called No Nut November, and it involved not cumming for the entire month. Several of the male members of the team in addition to Fleetfoot and Blaze - who possessed the necessary equipment - were all joining in.
Competitive by nature, they took it beyond the initial goal. Whoever lost first had to scrub the showers for two weeks - with a toothbrush. Anypony else that couldn't hold out had to volunteer for various jobs around the campus for one, be that towelpony, water holder, or whatever undesirable position. Whoever held out to the end would be declared the winner, and they won...
Actually... hm. Pinkie didn't know what they won, exactly.
The prospect of doing her own Triple-N intrigued her. Being something of a hypersexual, she figured that lasting to the end would give her one Tartarus of an orgasm. The problem was, she knew she couldn't do it on her own.
The day before November began, on the morning of Nightmare Night, Pinkie went to Twilight's library. She found the mare working on a phoenix costume, Spike sorting books in the corner. Pinkie got close to Twilight, and whispered very loudly tht they 'had to speak in private'.
Spike was dismissed, and Pinkie explained in the most implicit, careful terminology her problematic predicament. Twilight's response?
"So let me get this straight - you want me to come up with a spell that makes it impossible for your dick to cum for the entire month of November, because you want to have a huge, fat, messy, glue-thick orgasm that feels like you've died and gone to heaven. Is that right?"
Pinkie blinked rapidly, stunned, and burning bright as a cinnamon candy. Then, averting her gaze, she muttered a meeky, squeaky 'Yes'.
Twilight's expression morphed to something Pinkie had never before seen. She grinned from ear to ear, fluttered her lashes, and purred in a voice that made Pinkie's spine tingle, sheathed mast pulse, and stomach churn.
"I've got just the spell~"
Fear and curiosity made the strangest mix in her head, and she couldn't help herself asking for more details. Twilight gave her the rundown, both the similarities and differences to a standard metal cage. With its connection to her magic, she could manipulate it at will, and know whenever Pinkie tried to remove it or touch herself.
So far, she hadn't done either. Luna knew she wanted to though, if her latest dreams were anything to go by.
The entry bell chimed, pulling Pinkie away from her thoughtts.
"Thank goodness," she sighed. A distraction was just what the doctor ordered. Whatever she needed to not think about her not so little problem.
Glancing up, she gave the customer her winning smile. "Oh! Good morning, Minuette! You don't come around here very often!"
Minuette giggled. "Well, I'm here for my friends, honestly. I'm more of a savory baked goods kinda mare myself. Maybe you have some? Or something mint-flavored! I love mint."
Pinkie gave an apologetic pout. "I'm sorry, we don't really do savory things over here." Then, she perked up. "But we've got plenty of minty treats! Need a recommendation?"
"That sounds lovely.""
Pinkie, unthinking, bounced from behind the counter. Her eyes widened as something warm and hard slapped against her belly, and she halted before leaving the precipice. She'd gotten that close to exposing herself, let alone the shameful, glowing magic cage wrapped around her dick.
How in the Tartarus was she going to get around with her willie all worked up? Dang Twilight and her magicky nonsense. At least a metal cage stopped her sheath from getting out.
Hoping she could will her erection down, she dreamt up the unsexiest thoughts she could imagine. To her immense relief it worked, but would it on the thirteenth day? The twenty-third?
She shook her head, tossing those questions aside. She needed to focus on this, here and now.
Pinkie went on, showing Minuette the various assortments of mint-flavored goods they had on offer. After some pleasant conversation and bits changing hooves, the unicorn left with a bag full of mint-icing cupcakes, mint chocolate chip cookies, and other sweets meant for her friends.
Pinkie watched her go, and paid particular attention to the last half of Minuette that went out that door. Not the biggest butt she'd seen, but not bad either - fit, tight, and just large enough to provide adequate pushin' cushion. She'd gladly spread those flanks and slip her needy, drooling, rock-hard-
The bell rang again.
Pinkie greeted the newcomers with a smile, and forced her horniness down. Bad, bad dog.
For the most part, the rest of the day went smoothly. She did her usual duties, if a tad more distracted than usual. Plenty of pretty pony posteriors entered and left through that door, and inevitably attracted her thirsting gaze. Blessedly, Twilight constricted the cage around 11, pushing her beast back inside.
She was especially thankful when Mrs. Cake called her back for assistance. Spending time inches away from doughy MILF booty had her engines roaring and ready to rut for hours. If it were possible, she'd have loved nothing more than clapping some flour on those in need of kneading blue flanks.
She performed her duties to the same standard as always. Still, she'd be lying if she said she preferred rolling out dough for her employer over rolling her employer's dough.
By closing time, she could barely contain herself. Didn't matter if she couldn't reach orgasm. She needed some kind of stimulation, and fast.
Giving the Cakes a hasty wish of goodnight, she raced up the stairs to her room. As silent as possible, she cracked it open, slipped through, shut it, and threw herself onto the bed.
As if Twilight could sense she'd got off work, the cage began to warp. Her shaft pushed out of her leathery prison in record time, straining the glowing loops. Yet, no matter how hard and stiff she got, nothing short of anti-magic would break it. Or so Twilight said.
Her cock throbbed, pointing up with a slight back and leftwards bent. It wasn't the longest out there, but its girth, medial ring, and dominant flare ensured she'd gape any hole she plugged inside.
Good for putting buns in mares' ovens. Heehee, Buns. Ovens. Baking joke. She was hilarious.
But that joke sent her thoughts into a deeper, degenerate territory. Unrestricted and observation free within the confines of her bedroom, Pinkie could fantasize as much as she liked.
The image she stuck to came in the form of Mrs. Cake's wide, wobbly dumptruck of a rear. Pinkie herself could beat out most her fellow Ponyvilleins in the donk department; the three balloons of her cutie mark speaking to more than her affinity for parties - but Mrs. Cake? If someone wanted to give her a nickname for her fat ass, they wouldn't need to change a thing. When it came to the bubbliest butt in town though, that prize went to Derpy Hooves, and not because of her cutie mark.
Pinkie didn't know which mental photo she liked more - her employer's ghetto cheeks spread wide, wobblin' wild with her thick-rimmed ponut filled with Pinkie's sticky white cream, or that glossy plump-lipped maresnatch drooling out bubbly folds of babybatter. Of course, there wasn't any reason Pinkie couldn't take both holes if she got that far, and at that point she might as well shoot for a creamy throatpie too. Either way, all that cake and frosting would make for one dessert Pinkie would never forget.
Plus, there were her tits to account for. Obscene was really the only word to describe them.
Few mares cared or needed to hide their teats, because most weren't large enough to knock a house down. Mrs. Cake's meanwhile sagged low between her thighs, jostling and slapping every time she stepped in perfect rhythm with the clap-a-clap of her Princess-sized flanks. Her dark blue nipples, matching the candy-like coloration of her naughty bits, got Pinkie's mouth a-waterin' wonderin' what sorta dairy delights spurt out from those nozzles.
If by some miracle Pinkie managed to bag her boss, she'd knock her right up. That way she could get a taste for herself what mama had cookin'.
Spittle touched her chin, shaking Pinkie of the lurid fantasy. Her shaft, twitching insistent, seemed to have been drooling just as much. Pre gushed from the tip, and she eagerly bent forward, slurping it up.
The moment she made contact, a static shock ran down her length. Out of instinct she moaned, jerking her hips and butt off the sheets.
Her balls - a pair of big, juicy jizz-makers - clenched. The veins on her dick pulsed, and a streamer of salty sweet syrup landed on Pinkie's face. She stuck her tongue out, slurped what she could, and left the rest to sit there, sinking into the pastel pink fur.
Pinkie was, with little shame, quite kinky. One of those kinks had been among two impetuses - impetusi? She'd have to ask Twilight about that later - which had kicked off this whole No Nut November nonsense to start with.
She loved the idea of getting glazed - particularly when it was her own supply. It reasoned that if she could hold her cum for the full four weeks, she'd give herself a frosting that would make a ten-tier wedding cake look like a petitfour.
Winding down from the surprise, she reached for her cock again. The shock didn't come as startling the second time around, and she realized that as long as she had her hoof or mouth touching, the whole cage would buzz and vibrate.
A switch flipped in her mind, and her eyes crossed, tongue lolling out. Panting and drooling like a dog she took herself in two hooves, giving it pump after languid, pre-milking pump.
She entered a state of autonomous, braindead bliss. Balanced on the edge of orgasm but not able to tip over, all she could do was stroke, stroke, stroke. She swore she could feel her braincells leaking out her cumslit in the form of sloppy, gooey pre.
That's when the orgasm started to build.
"W-wait, what?"
Or, that's what she tried to say. In reality, she just groaned and grunted.
It didn't stop her from pumping, but it also didn't make sense. Twilight made a chastity cage. Chastity cages were meant to stop her from cumming. Had Twilight overlooked a detail?
Her horny, lust-fogged head locked onto the idea. Screw No Nut November. She had to cum - now.
Jerking faster, thrusting her hips, her hooves became a blur. She needed a little more, just one more touch of stimulation. Squishing her thighs together she massaged her balls, drawing a series of happy squeaks from her lungs.
Closer... closer... So, so, so close, and...
Right before the peak, it stopped.
"Nn... hnnng... w-whaaaat?"
She kept pumping, but nothing happened. In fact, the pleasure waned, dick softening in her hooves. The need, the tingle remained, worse than before, but no matter what she did, orgasm evaded her grasp.
Eventually, she gave up. Disappointed, mood dampered and loins screaming, she fell back onto the bed covered in sweat.
As though upset with the lack of attention, her pillar of party pony prick pulsed with need. An ache settled into its core, worse at her flare, but she ignored it.
She couldn't touch it again. Knowing herself better she surely would in the future, but for the time being she wouldn't allow herself that pleasure. The more she pumped, the worse the ache in her loins, and the more grating each day before December.
Hoping for a restful slumber, free from the plague of wet dreams, Pinkie closed her eyes.
Another day done. Another day closer to freedom.
The sun was shining. The sky was blue. Songbirds and the sound of happy ponies filled the air.
Pinkie couldn't imagine anywhere she wanted to be less.
Today was Sunday, marking the end of her first week. Twilight had scheduled a picnic for them to meet and 'catch up'. Pinkie, of course, had her suspicions to its true purpose.
While Twilight may have been cruel, she had some amount of mercy within her. Out in public, she'd tightened the cage, ensuring the hidden confinement of Pinkie's insistent frosting pipe.
Regardless, she squirmed. The soft picnic blanket brushed her balls and taint in just the right way to make her throb. Although she couldn't get an erection, her sheath still leaked pre in copious amounts, teaspoons at a time.
Twilight knew. She could see the dark spot that had formed on the blanket, but as of yet she'd said nothing out of the ordinary. Pinkie even began to believe this might be a normal picnic after all.
Smiling, Twilight sipped her lemonade. "Tell me," she said, swirling the glass. "I'm curious about something."
"M-mhm?"
"How has it been going with..." She set down the glass, leanedforward, and brought her voice and lids low. "You know~"
Pinkie blushed, averting Twilight's molten gaze. "Eheheh, I-I've got no idea what you're talking about Twilight! Why don't you tell me about the breakfast Spike burnt again. That was a really funny story, had me in tears!"
It really didn't.
Twilight licked her lips. "Don't play dumb with me, Pinkie. We both know what I'm talking about. But just in case you don't remember..."
Twilight stood. With a feline swagger she walked, sashaying her hips and tail in opposites. Try as she might, Pinkie couldn't tear her gaze away, and before she knew it her friend was beside her, breathing heat against her ear.
"I'm talking about," she crooned. She reached down with a hoof, planting it between Pinkie's legs, and gave it a playful squeeze that made Pinkie whimper. "This party cannon of yours."
Pinkie squeaked, barely finding her words. "V-v-very jittery. Hard to keep from, from..."
"From what, Pinkie? Come on, it's just us girls here. You can tell me."
"T-touching."
"Touching? My oh my, I wonder what exactly it is you've been touching. I couldn't begin to imagine. Is it..." Pinkie's eyes shifted as Twilight moved to her left side. "Your dick?" Her right/ Your cock?"
Her left again. "Your throbbing." Right, "Pulsing." Left. "Drooling."
Right. "Needy, flared, fat, productive fucking spunkhose? The one that could absolutely, positively ruin some poor mare's tight honey-coated cunny?" Is that what you've been touching Pinkie? Is that the thing you've been positively, absolutely incapable of keeping your hooves off?"
Pinkie squeaked. Twilight cackled.
"naughty bitch."
She smacked Pinkie's right flank. Cheeks warmer than Sugarcube's ovens, Pinkie yipped. Quivering on the spot, her plush posterior tremored, vast ripples traveling from one flank to the next.
"Gosh. I could watch that all day. Like a stone tossed in a lake." Twilight giggled, then looked around the nearby area. Grassy green hills as far as the eye could see flanked them to their right, trees that led into the Whitetail Wood on their left. Several picnic tables and blankets were set out for the lunchgoing ponies, but no one had noticed the commotion. "Still, I can't risk us getting caught. Bet you'd like it if we did though, wouldn't you?"
Pinkie gulped.
"Knew it." She patted Pinkie's wither. "You just sit back and enjoy yourself. I'll be back in a moment."
Before Pinkie could say a word, Twilight flashed away. Pinkie, with the precious alone time she'd been provided, stress-ate her heart out.
When Twilight re-appeared, half the pitcher remained, and mountains of sandwiches and lemoncakes were reduced to mere mounds.
"Quite the appetite, I see. Good; you'll need that sugar for your cum."
Twilight said it from behind, crooning in her ear. Shivers played racecars along Pinkie's spine, and she squeezed her thighs together to hide the large glob of pre drooling from her sheath.
"It's not very friendly of you to look away from a friend that's talking to you. You wouldn't want to be a bad friend, now would you Pinkie?"
Pinkie didn't acknowledge the fact it was Twilight who teleported behind her. "N-nope! No sirree, n-not at all!"
"Then turn around."
Pinkie did so, and nearly passed out.
Standing in front of her was Twilight, but not the same Twilight that left.
In the time she'd been gone she applied makeup suitable for a high-class whore. Dark eyeliner framed her eyes, emphasizing deep purple eyeshadow. Magenta lipstick made it all stand out, matched with blush faint enough it looked natural.
Below that, she'd dressed herself in an evening ensemble ripped straight from porno mags. A lacy black choker wrapped around her throat, done up at the front with a pretty magenta ribbon that matched her lipstick and the stripe in her hair. The rest of her outfit was much the same - stockings on her hind legs, garterbelt, and lower down Pinkie saw a bra straining to keep Twilight's tangerine-sized breasts in control.
Pinkie sputtered. Her lips opened and closed like a gaping fish, but not one full syllable left it.
"Bet you didn't expect a nerdy little librarian like me to have this kind of stuff around, did you? oH don't worry, you don't need to answer." Twilight swished her tail, pushing Pinkie's slackened jaw closed. Then she retrieved glasses from somewhere unseen and settled them upon her snout. "There! Maybe that will soothe the juxtaposition in your mind. No? That's okay. Just be aware that this?" Her magic seized Pinkie's cage, making it press and vibrate into the tender flesh. "Is mine until this month is over. Got it, bitch?"
"O-o-okie dokie lokie."
"Wonderful. Glad we're on the same page. Get it, page? Because I'm a sexy librarian." She laughed. "I thought you might appreciate that one, but maybe too much of your brainpower's gone to the head between your legs."
Twilight patted her head with a condescending smirk, then sauntered past. Pinkie turned her head to watch, before her eyes bugged out of their sockets.
It shouldn't have surprised her that Twilight wore panties. Nonetheless, Pinkie found herself incapable of looking anywhere else. The lacy, faintly see-through fabric clung tight to Twilight's ass and pussy, putting them on more display than if she'd gone without anything at all.
Pinkie willed herself to not slobber, out of politeness if not fear of embarrassment. She couldn't give Twilight more ammo than she already had.
After, the picnic continued as normal. As though nothing untoward had transpired.
They continued to converse on mundane topics like books, baking, and Equestrian news. Though, Twilight also continued to tease and taunt her. Sometimes she'd just bat her lashes and pout her full, painted lips. Other times she might take a popsicle, running her tongue from the base to its tip while maintaining direct eye contact. Every once in a while she'd get brazen, turning around and simply flashing Pinkie her tits and bits before sitting back down to resume the discussion.
An hour went by, then another. To Pinkie, it felt like an agonizing decade.
The bright blue horizon and golden Sun shifted towards red and amber. Ponies left, one by one. They'd finished their food ages ago, but Twilight hadn't stopped the picnic.
Pinkie was confused, to say the very least.
She didn't stay confused for long.
The moment the last group stood and moved towards the town, Twilight stood. Pinkie, initially, believed that to be the end of their picnic.
"Oh no no no. We're not going anywhere."
Before Pinkie could ask for clarification, Twilight smacked her hoof across Pinkie's jiggly cake. She squeaked, and on cue her sheath spat out a gob of pre-cum.
"Now that we're alone, I can do so much more. Won't that be fun? I mean, you do like fun, don't you Pinkie?"
She managed to nod. That was about it.
"Good. Let's get that dick of yours out then, shall we?"
Twilight's horn lit, and the subtle pressure on her cock lifted. In seconds flat her mast hardened, rising like eager, veiny dough.
"Gosh, look at you. So leaky! I knew you were a messy mare, Pinkie, but this is ridiculous." Tittering like windchimes, Twilight's arcane aura seized Pinkie's girth. She squeezed it, massaged it, pumped from base to tip in slow, mindmelting rhythm. Then she stopped, and Twilight seemed to suddenly stand far taller than she had any right to, though Pinkie knew on a rational level it only felt that way. "On your back. Now."
The order cracked like a whip. She obeyed without a second thought, and spread her plump thighs to expose her ram-straight fuckpipe.
Whatever she expected to happen next, was wrong. Twilight backed up, twirled around, and slammed her thick violet ring down on Pinkie's shaft.
Unthinking, she bucked her hips. Twilight, in response, tightened the cage until it hurt.
"Bad girl. No moving unless I say so, do I make myself clear?"
"C-c-crystal."
"Good girl."
More and more of Pinkie sank into the tight, constricting depths of Twilight's succulent star. She mewled, bit her lip, drooled all over herself, but received no mercy. If anything, her obedience spurred Twilight further.
Shimmying her hips, Twilight's ass met Pinkie's base. Finally, she got some satisfaction from getting her to moan.
Just as fast, that moan lowered to a sultry laugh. The sort that made Pinkie's mind reel, and nethers burn.
As Pinkie's brain worked to unclog itself, Twilight's hips raised. Inches of hot pink meat appeared, then were consumed as Twilight's hole gobbled it up, beginning to bounce in earnest.
If nothing else, Pinkie had a rockin' view of Twilight's equally rockin' plot. Years of sitting around on her big bookworm booty had developed a gorgeous layer of adipose, making the cheeks ripple with every bounce. But Twilight, in recent years - particularly since ascending to Princesshood - had begun to get herself in shape.
Clearly, those efforts paid off. Beneath the intentionally crafted layers of fat was firm muscle, capable of squeezing dicks dry. Pinkie imagined she'd gotten help from Rainbow's workout regimens, and thanks to her had given the sadistic mare mastery over her own body. She clenched her tailpipe, wringing out pints of cream that would never come.
Grunting, groaning, Twilight rode her like a bull.
Pinkie felt herself hit the edge of climax too many times to count. After enough torture, she lost track of time and space altogether. Each rise, each fall of failed orgasms fried another few braincells, until she swore they were leaking right out her flare.
Abruptly, Twilight exhaled, and expelled a splatter of juice against Pinkie's crotch. It dripped down, coating her balls and shaft, and Pinkie couldn't stop herself from huffing the scent of fresh, fertile maresquirt.
Twilight, panting quietly, extracted herself with a drawn out 'ssschlrrrpop!' She caught her breath for a moment, before re-fastening the loops of Pinkie's cage, stuffing her stiff schlong inside.
Now tThat was a wonderful get together, wouldn't you agree?"
Pinkie said nothing.
"Well, I'd love to continue, but I'm afraid I'm seeing Cheerilee tonight for lesson plans. Tata for now!~"
And just like that, with a bright pink flash, she was gone.
Pinkie's chest rolled and heaved as time passed. The sun set, and Luna's moon rose. Only then could she pick herself up, wobbling on legs that felt so much like jelly.
With shaky, halting steps, Pinkie turned towards home.
Two weeks.
Two weeks down. Another infinity to go.
Pinkie knew the cage around her cock would never allow her to cum, and Twilight certainly wouldn't be allowing that either. She'd seen fit to claim Pinkie as her own plaything, a perverted experiment. Little doubt existed in her mind that Twilight jilled herself silly to Pinkie's plight every evening.
She knew there was no way out. What scared her, truly, was whether her mind would stay intact.
Ever since the picnic, Twilight upped the ante. Whatever faint glimmer of mercy that existed in her heart she'd snuffed out. Now, regardless of time or place, she'd loosen the restrictions on Pinkie's cage and make her deal with the resulting hard-on, a fifth leg that threatened to drag itself around wherever she went.
The worst was when it buzzed. At those times, it was all Pinkie could do to function like a normal pony. Half the time she'd have to book it to somewhere private, and wait for the tingling to pass.
Nopony had noticed yet, thank Celestia. If anyone found out, she decided it might be better to pack up shop and move back in with her folks. No hot, mean, sexy, evil, lust-inducing, blackhearted Twilight at the rock farm.
Sleep, too, was no safe haven. The first few nights of this, she'd managed to go without any sexual dreams. For the past week, however, that had not been the case.
On one occasion, Luna was there. She never said anything, but the cold, lustful gaze she'd fixed her with said all it needed.
Did Twilight somehow rope her in? Was that even possible?
At a certain point, it stopped mattering. More than that though, was the utter Tartarus it wreaked on her bed. Cleaning the mess was almost worse than the torment.
Every night, she'd fall asleep. Once asleep, an endless gallery of big booties, succulent ponuts, drippy gushy honeypots, massive teats, long thick cocks and low pendulous balls would parade before her. Sometimes it was her doing the fucking, other times she was getting fucked. Often, Twilight was involved, though plenty of her other friends and ponies from town joined in as well.
More than once, she dreamt of her mom and sisters.
And, when she woke up, her covers would be soaked. No real cum though, never that. Only pre.
Pre, and reeking, virile musk.
The fifth night it happened, she started sleeping on top of the sheets. That only made a mess of her fur, but at least she could shower.
Keeping clean in public was the real terror. Nopony connected it to her, not yet, but boy did they notice her snail trails.
Somehow, that was the least of her fears. Daily living had become a battle of wills - planning parties, going to the post-office, buying ingredients, running the counter. Twilight had upended her entire life, all for her sick, perverse pleasure.
When she met with her friends, she could hardly focus.
Well, that wasn't quite true. She could focus - on very particular areas of her friends' bodies.
Up until now, she'd never looked at her friends as anything more. Despite her own degenerate nature, the relationship she held with them was something precious, something sacred. They were the Elements, for hoofness sake.
Twilight took that closely held belief, and chucked it out the fucking window.
Rainbow's ass was small, but pert. Tight and muscular, she had a feeling the Wonderbolt could last for hours.
Applejack, with a larger, fattier, though even more muscular behind. Her hips were broodmare-esque, built for plapping and plowing til the Zap Apple Harvest came home. And given her innate strength, Pinkie drooled to think what level of destruction she might render to her pelvis. Pebbles? Gravel? Powder? Atoms?
And Fluttershy. Poor, poor, sweet, sweet, innocent Fluttershy.
She'd pin her down and dump every last Celestia-damned drop of breeder spooge in her womb. She obsessed over the idea of watching those buttery yellow cheeks clap and jiggle like jello in an earthquake. She nearly had Pinkie rivaled for bootiful bodaciousness - nearly.
Plus, those tits. Celestia, Luna, moon, sun, and stars. What she'd give to watch them swing.
Rarity, meanwhile, portrayed with elegance the ideal model. Slender, graceful, svelte. Curves in all the right places, to the exact measurements any magazine would kill to put on their pages.
And last - Twilight...
She noticed other mares too. At the post office, when Ditzy turned around, Pinkie's eyes glued to cheeks so wobbly and round they might as well be bubbles.
Roseluck, Daisy, Lily Valley. They had bodies so alike, you'd think they were twins, succulent a the honeysuckles they grew and sold.
Nurse Redheart, with her milky melon crotchtits. Amethyst Star, with the most delectable donut Pinkie had ever seen. Lyra and Bon Bon with the puffiest, pinkest, swollenest pastel pony pussies this side of Ponyville, and probably Equestria.
She wondered if they got so pink from scissoring. If she was right, she couldn't imagine how many times a day they had to do it to get that color.
She bet it'd feel great if they scissored her cock.
The third weekend arrived. Naturally, Twilight decided it was the perfect time to pop in for another rain check.
By which Pinkie meant, she'd closed her eyes for sleep before Twilight teleported smack dab in her room.
Tonight, she wore a different ensemble - white lace rather than black, with blue trim, ribbons, and matching azure lipstick. Her expression seemed predatory, and casually dominant as though the conclusion of this impromptu meeting had already been decided.
Pinkie, silent, watched with wide and fearful eyes as she withdrew a large, pre-lubed fleshlight. Wordless, Twilight yanked back Pinkie's sheets, grabbed hold of her dick, and slammed the toy down until lavender sillicone kissed pink flesh.
The reaction was instant. Both moaned, and the more Twilight thrust the toy up and down her length, the more her sounds grew in volume and intensity.
"I... hahaha... t-took some, mmmmf... liberties with this little toy~" Somehow, through the haze of pleasure, she formed words, maintaining her usual dominant demeanor. "W-whenever, ahhhhh- Whenever I fuck your cock with this, I ggggget to feel it too. Isn't that, fffff, wonderful?~"
"Nnnn." Pinkie held back a whinny. "What, what about t-t-the noise?"
Really, Pinkie? Really. That's what you're worried about right now.
Twilight grinned, pausing the toy. "I placed a sound-proofing spell on your room the first day, so don't you worry that stupid little head of yours. Now fuck me."
Pinkie wasn't sure how she felt about that revelation. She also didn't get the chance to think about it any more, not when the flshlight resumed its motion.
For how long that went on, only Faust knew. After Twilight got her satisfaction - no less than a dozen screaming orgasms - she zapped away without so much as goodbye. Pinkie spasmed on the bed, brain dead and mouth frothing.
Balls full. Head empty.
One week remained.
Just one week.
She thought she'd be relieved. But things got far worse.
Pinkie found out, thanks to one particularly vulgar wet dream, that Luna was indeed part of the game. The proud, regal royal - who some called Moonbutt, for quickly apparent reasons - toyed with her like a cat and its prey.
In Luna's realm, she kept the denial going. No cumming. No orgasm.
Worse, Luna made it last for hours. Dildos, vibrators, beads, Luna's own ass or conjured alicorn cock. Even her pussy and mouth, a couple times. While Pinkie felt she should have been honored to ostensibly fuck the Princess of the Night, the only thing she felt falling asleep now was deep, curdling dread.
The following day, she woke in a pool of sweat and pre. Her feverish appearance and limp mane made perfect cover, and she called in sick.
"I don't feel so good today, Mrs. Cake," she mumbled, drenched face half-hidden by the door.
The mare took one look at her, and agreed.
She spent the rest of that day in bed, jerking off. And the night. And the next day and night after that, after that, after that.
She tried to get the cage off herself, but not even her Diane Pie earth pony strength would budge it. Twilight seemed to know when she was trying to remove it as well, making it buzz with such intensity she felt it in her skull.
She kept trying anyway. No matter how bad it got.
After a week of non-stop pumping, held on the eternal precipice of climax, Pinkie's sanity teetered. The threads of her neurons stretched, frayed at the edges. If she didn't get to cum soon, she knew she'd lose it. Probably become a mindless, gooning mess locked up in Ponyville's psych ward.
The final day dawned. November 31st.
Tonight, at midnight, she could cum. She'd cum and cum and cum and cum and she'd never ever ever even once ever do this horrible, awful challenge again. Not for a million, zillion, jillion bits.
She spent the day the same way she'd done for over a week now, pausing for water and food. The Cakes were kind enough to respect her privacy, leaving her meals at the door.
She wondered what her friends and fellow townies made of her absence. Surely word had spread of her illness, though she got ahead of the curve and told the Cakes not to let anypony see her.
She prayed for gift baskets, letters, maybe a welcome back party when this blew over. She might not have been sick, but by Celestia's ass did she need a pick-me-up after all this.
Night came. She continued to pump, rather than pay attention to the clock. Counting the time as it went by was the quickest method for stretching the wait out far longer than it needed to be. And Pinkie needed the wait to be as swift as equinely possible.
Then, midnight.
She sucked in a breath. Trembling with more excitement than a schoolfilly on her first date, she extracted her hooves. They, her shaft, thighs, crotch, belly, were plastered and tacky with shining pre.
She waited for the cage to disappear.
She waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
Just as tears threatened to spill down her cheeks, Twilight teleported in.
She wore a different ensemble this time, exchanging white for devil red lingerie. On her lips and above her eyes she'd painted herself a deep, dark, bloody crimson. A spiked red choker cinched her throat, and atop her head she'd put on pointy devil horns.
"D-d-d-do I-I get to c-c-cum?"
"Yes, Pinkie. Tonight, you get to cum."
She grinned, and pulled out the same fleshlight as before. Pinkie recognized the familiar tint of enchantment upon it, but rather than sparkling with magenta magic like Twilight's aura, it was instead a soft, daffodil yellow. Where before stars had risen from it, now they were little flowers, and what Pinkie swore were butterflies.
She didn't know what that meant.
She also didn't care.
In an instant, Pinkie launched from the bed. Twilight stepped back, as though she'd expected this to happen, and held the fleshlight mid-air for Pinkie to slide in.
The instant her length sank into those velvety confines, her pupils dilated, and her tongue fell out. She drooled like a heat-stricken bitch, even growling, whinnying, and neighing like a feral beast.
It felt so fucking good.
Way better than the last time. Actually, it almost felt real. Not like a fake sillicone toy, but a flesh and blood marecunny. It even twitched and spasmed like one, milking her cock.
Between her tears and spittle frothing, copious amounts of her own pre dripping onto the floor, Twilight cocked her head.
"Just to let you know though. I'm not letting you cum quite yet. I need you to hold out just a biiiit longer. Think you can do that for me?"
Pinkie barely heard her. She gave her response in the form of continued, squelching plaps of her fuckmeat abusing the toy and feral groans and grunts.
"Guess that's about as good an answer I'm gonna get." Twilight shrugged her withers, but appeared unbothered.
Pinkie didn't even care when Twilight pulled out a dildo, the full length and half the thickness of one of Pinkie's legs. She didn't care when Twilight poured 'aphrodisiac lube' onto the fake shaft, and she didn't care when it pressed against her tailhole.
She didn't care as it entered her. In fact, she moaned, eagerly bucking her ass back against the toy. The flare rubbed at her prostate, and Pinkie's body shuttered from head to hoof.
"There we go," Twilight purred. "Shut your brain off, dumb bitch. Pound that pretty pink pony pussy!"
Pinkie obeyed, less so because of the order itself, more because she'd fucking lost the plot. The world - the universe - reality itself, shrank to two things: Pinkie's cock slamming itself in this tight fucking cunt, and the massive horsecock dildo stretching her out.
Twilight paced the dildo's thrusts with Pinkie's bucks. When her pole hilted inside the pocket pussy, the dildo pulled out. When the dildo went back inside, Pinkie's hips drew out from the toy. Between the lube on the dildo, the excessive pre flowing from her cock, and the respective tightness of her hole and the fleshlight, the room filled with a symphony of squicks and squelches louder than any Canterlot concert hall.
But, too subtle for Pinkie to notice, Twilight set the dildo's thrusts at a slightly faster speed than Pinkie's movements. Even were she not for all intents and purposes brainfried, she wouldn't have noticed. And so, gradually, it pushed Pinkie to thrust harder.
Unbeknownst to her, Twilight shifted the cage from its regular form to a magical cock ring. Tight around the base of her shaft, it turned her steel-thick rod to tungsten. Beins bulged out. The flare bloomed, wide enough to destroy a grown dragoness' holes.
Pinkie's fucking was untrackable. Hipss a-blur, tail flagged, the plastic casing on the toy creaked audibly. Cracks ran along the shell, but Twilight's magic forced it to stay together for the time being. It wouldn't hold out, but it needed to last a little while longer.
Given the sheer force and momentum of Pinkie's fucking, it wouldn't have been unthinkable she could drill straight through rock. It was impressive, honestly, reminding Twilight of the way Pinkie's sister bored through rock with nothing but her head and forehooves. Pie strength sure was something to witness.
She was thankful it wasn't her pussy getting plowed.
Twilight kept watch of the clock, letting Pinkie rut herself stupid. She kept busy in the mean time of course, using magic to tease and flick her folds. She managed to get in a few orgasms here and there, but really her satisfaction came from seeing Pinkie degenerate into a mindless, cock-driven animal.
Thirty minutes passed, and she released the chastity spell.
She didn't bother telling the mare. She wouldn't need to. Neither would she get the chance to say anything before Pinkie would-
"CCCCCCUUUUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMM!"
For the first time since this started, Twilight's eyes widened. She took a step back, and it took actual effort to hold the fleshlight steady, much as she'd like to continue fucking Pinkie's prostate.
In one, single blast, the toy overflowed. Filled to the brim the plastic cracked, and the lid shot against the wall with bullet swiftness. It left an imprint behind, which was in less than an eyeblink filled by Pinkie's syrup-thick nutbatter. Pinkie wasn't even cumming ropes, because ropes implied there was an end to the stream.
"Yeah, okay. Fuck this."
Dropping the fleshlight, Twilight surrounded herself in a magic bubble. She didn't want any cum getting on her clothes or ruining her makeup.
It did mean she could keep using that dildo though.
Twilight's eyes shimmered with amusement. She sat on her haunches, then got comfortable on her back. Her hoof reached to between her thighs, and she rubbed plaintive circles around her purple folds, pressing against her clit.
Pinkie fell prone as well, though less gracefully. Tipping over onto her back, her spine arched, and her shooting tower erupted non-stop like some twisted version of the Old Loyal geyser.
The torrent of tacky white splashed against the ceiling. A shocking amount of it stuck there, but the rest showered down in a syrupy rain of gluey fuckgloop. Pinkie, eyes rolled into her skull, opened her mouth and giggled manically as she coated herself.
In seconds, her maw was bubbling over with the stuff. She swallowed it, and kept going.
Twilight ported back home to panfry up some popcorn. Porting back, she was glad to see Pinkie still going.
Using magic, she fed herself and masturbated, sitting back to enjoy the show. She had a feeling it'd be a while before the pent-up pony was finished.
Meanwhile, near the Everfree...
"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fffuhuhuuuuck!"
Fluttershy, tears flowing, ass up, screamed bloody murder. She tried to wiggle her plot, run it beneath hot water, but nothing worked.
"W-w-what's... happeniiiiiing!"
Animals crowded behind the door, one she'd purposefully locked to hide her shame. She bit the sheets hard to muffle her moans, but it did nothing to quiet the frantic slap of flesh on flesh, and the squirting deluge of cum spurting from her tight horsecunt. She'd never been fucked, never had sex once. Then, suddenly, a cock as thick as her hoof started fucking her snatch, and shooting hot sticky ropes inside her vulnerable womb.
Whimpering, she did her best to deny the pleasure. It failed, naturally.
But hey.
She did always want a family.
Author's Note
This story was written for PokemonVictor. If you enjoyed and want to receive a story of your own, see here for more details!
