The cheerful tinkle of the bell perched above the entrance to my quaint Donut shop heralded a new arrival, its merry jingle infusing the air with a sense of anticipation.

It wasn't long before the distinct, yet not unpleasant, scent of perspiration wafted through the air, mingling with the sweet fragrance of sugary confections. This olfactory symphony reached me in the midst of a delightful exchange with an unfortunate patron in the cozy confines of my kitchen.

With a swift and courteous conclusion to our interaction, I made my way to the storefront, eager to welcome the newcomer.

As I emerged, my suspicions were confirmed. There stood my favorite Wonderbolt, his presence as commanding as ever, swathed in the legendary, form-fitting bodysuit that had become synonymous with his high-flying exploits. "A splendid afternoon to you, Soarin!" I greeted, my voice imbued with a tad more warmth than I was willing to reveal.

"Hey there, Donut Joe," he replied, his eyes twinkling with fondness. "I've longed for this—the intoxicating aroma of dough rising and browning, the visual feast of glazed and sprinkled masterpieces on display.."

“I missed you too, Soarin,” I confessed, the corners of my mouth sliding into a grin.

“It just makes my stomach rumble with anticipation.”

“Mmm, you also make my—” The customer from the kitchen rushed past us, holding her tail between hind legs with a forehoof.

“Cum again soon,” I waved her goodbye.

She yelped in response before leaving the bakery.

With a flourish of a hoof, Soarin gestured towards the laminated menu, his eyes alight with the day's craving. His charismatic grin was infectious, the kind that could easily brighten the dreariest of days. "Today, I think I'll indulge in a slice of your renowned apple pie," he declared, his voice carrying the easy confidence of a regular who knew the menu by heart.

I acknowledged his choice with a nod, feeling a familiar sense of pride swell within me, and down below as well. The apple pie wasn't just a menu item; it was a piece of culinary art, a testament to the craft I had honed over countless years of toiling in the kitchen. I slipped through the sturdy door that led to my sanctuary of spices and sugar.

As I gathered the ingredients, my mind wandered, not just to the task at hand, but to the possibilities that lay beyond the realm of pastries and pies. The thought was like a seed, planted in the fertile soil of my imagination, yearning to sprout into something more. And I could, indeed, feel something of mine sprouting underneath.

With meticulous care, I assembled the pie, ensuring that every slice was laden with the perfect balance of tart apples and sweet, crumbly crust. For my favorite customer, I also included the cream that only I could produce. I embedded the essence of myself into the pie. It was more than just baking; it was a ritual, a dance of flavors and textures that culminated in the creation before me.

Walking back to the dining area, I presented the generous portion to Soarin. I watched as he took the first bite, his eyes closing in appreciation. The pegasus, clad in his signature glistening furtight bodysuit, seemed to savor the pie with a reverence reserved for the finest of delicacies. Each mouthful was a silent ode to the craft, a moment of pure, unadulterated enjoyment that transcended the ordinary.

I imagined being a piece of pie dancing on the taste buds of his tongue. It was rude to just stand there. I wanted to give him space, but my legs wouldn’t move away from the table.

“Err, Joe…”

“Mmm?”

“I heard some noises from your kitchen when I came in. It sounded like gurgling.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It was just… a pipe of sorts. It makes such sounds when the ear leaks by the plug.”

“Oh, okay.” Soarin finished the last crumb and reached down his body. “My pouch‽” His face flushed with embarrassment. “Uh, Joe. Err, funny story. You see… I had this very intense training today.”

“Yeah, I could smell your sweat right after you entered.”

“Okay, this is doubly embarrassing then…”

“You’re training for the upcumming Wonderbolt show, right? I already bought the ticket to see you.”

“Upcoming Wonderbolt show, yes. Anyway, after the training, I was exhausted and hungry. My first thought was of your delicious pies, and I soared from Cloudsdale to here just to get me some. But the thing is, I left my pouch with bits in my locker because it would get in the way of training.” Soarin looked down at the floor. Then, his eyes lifted up to me. “Look, you know I’m good for it, right?”

I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “No worries, Soarin. You’re one of my best customers. But you know the rules as well as I do,” I pointed to a sign that read, ‘No bits, No problem! Work off your debt in the kitchen with natural produce.’

Soarin, ever the sport, agreed without hesitation. “Lead the way, Joe. I’m ready to earn my keep!”

And so, Soarin found himself in the kitchen, donning an apron over his Wonderbolt suit.

“What are you doing?” I asked while locking the door to the kitchen.

Soarin was a natural in the air, but in the kitchen? That was a whole new adventure for him. “There are all these ingredients and flour and stuff here; you know, natural produce.”

I turned around and whispered in his ear, “You are the natural produce.”

Soarin coughed.“I… I just thought that I might get dirty…”

“But I want you to get dirty,” I said and brushed a hoof through his mane with a forehoof.

“I just thought I’d use protection, you know?” he continued with a stammer.

“No protection needed. I just had a checkup and the doctor said I’m positive on all metrics.”

“I don’t think that means what you think it means.” His eyes darted around. “Uh, look there, at your calendar!” Soarin tried to distract me. “You still have it turned on my picture. We’re way past that moon already. Maybe you should turn it to the current moon.” He hoofed at the doorknob, but the locked door didn’t budge.

“I don’t use it to measure days. I use it to measure your proportions.”

Soarin’s hoof slid down the door in defeat. “I think I’m way out of my element here.”

“Don’t worry, sweet thing, I’ll show you the ropes.”

“Dear, Celestia, I hope you’re not saying that literally.”

“That depends entirely on you. If you want to get wild, I’ll have to put you in your place.” While opening a drawer, I leaned right up to his ear, “I even have hoof-cuffs.”

Soarin’s breaths speed up upon seeing the revealed metal bracelets. “Oh, dear. I really got myself into a deep end, didn’t I?”

Author's Note

Gdoc