“No no no NO, Pound, how did you even get up there?” you shouted, panicking. Your arm flailed around the top of the bookshelf to try and locate the offending toddler, and sure enough, you managed to scoop him off the shelf.
“Hah…I don’t know how you do it, but you could give Jack-Jack a run for his money,” you panted, wagging your finger at the small bundle of energy. “Now before your mother gets home-“
You then heard a creak coming from the saloon-doors to your left. You knew exactly what that meant, and you were simply not prepared to deal with it again that day.
“Pumpkiiiin? Are you in the shadow realm again? Are you making noises to mess with my head? Where are you?” you called out, looking for any light-distortions in the room.
Ponyville’s resident party-planner had made it quite clear what you were about to deal with that day. You didn’t believe her stories one bit, and you were seriously beginning to regret it…
Two little infants with godlike magic to fly with precision? To make things float? To vanish and reappear at will? All of her woes, her anecdotes, were utterly ridiculous! You thought little ones had to be at least as old as Sweetie Belle or Scootaloo to start practicing their abilities!
And yet…
‘I’ll get you anything you want, I promise by my Pinkie toe’, she said. You couldn’t hide anything from your best friend. She knew what sort of thing would convince you to see something through. So you made your…request of her.
Pinkie had agreed to your deal, putting her bare foot on top of yours. As soon as you had time, you would make sure to savour every second of your reward. But for now, you were locked in, and you intended to see it through to the end, possible magical explosions or not.
Also, Mrs. Cake put her full trust in you when Pinkie properly introduced you both, so you weren’t about to let the poor mother down, now were you?
“Pumpkin, I got cookies! Mama’s gonna be home soon!” you called out once again, running upstairs and frantically looking for the magical unicornling.
Pound giggled and kicked his tiny little legs in your grip, his beady little eyes staring at a nearby painting. His tiny finger pointed at the formerly-pink maned pony framed, and you quickly noticed that the pony now was suspiciously pumpkin-coloured.
You narrowed your eyes, looking closely at the picture…until an orange and yellow mass popped out, giggling smugly and tackling your face.
“OOMPH!!” you grunted, detaching the face-hugging baby from your head. “Alright, alright, you got your dinner, you got your storytime, you even got your puppet show…at SOME point you gotta get tired, ri-“
The door downstairs opened up, and out called a rather familiar voice, one that meant relief from your torment. “I’m home, dearie! Anon? Where are you?”
You carefully made your way down the stairs, leaning on the licorice railing while you caught your breath. Into the bakery strode none other than Mrs. Cake herself, dressed in a near floor-length gown that matched both the colour and pattern of her hair, hugging around her rather adorable outward curves. The high-heels she wore, unusual for a mare like her, also matched her outfit.
You couldn’t deny….you enjoyed what you were seeing. But you quickly realised you were looking downwards for a little too long, refocusing on Mrs. Cake’s face. You thought you saw her staring at you curiously, but you weren’t quite able to tell with the foals around.
The two toddlers squealed in joy as they leapt off your arms and into their mothers’, forcing her to put down the small trophy she was carrying. “I…I’m right here, Mrs. Cake, was just…getting these two to bed…”
The slightly chubbier mare smiled gratefully as she locked the door to the bakery, nuzzling both of her foals’ cheeks. “Heh, you certainly look a little winded, dearie…I’m guessing they were a bit of a handful?”
You straightened yourself out, ruffling Pound’s mane and scritching Pumpkin’s chin. “Pshaw, Mrs. Cake, not even…they were just little angels…so, how was the Cowbell Pastry Ceremony?”
“Oh, dearie, you wouldn’t believe it, but our little shop here won! We might even have to expand across Equestria here soon!” she shouted, gleefully.
“I can see…The MMMM broke out of containment, huh? Careful with that recipe, you never know who’s listening…”
Mrs. Cake smiled softly. “It looks like these two didn’t break out of containment…”
“Lordy lordy lordy, they could NEVER escape my watchful eyes,” you declared, keeping up your stone-faced act.
She laughed and climbed up the stairs, with you in tow. “Well, either way Anon, these two little rascals look like they got lots of play. Now, I’m gonna put them to bed…could you wait downstairs, dear? I’ll let you rest a while and give you a treat for your troubles.”
“Yes Mrs. Cake, ma’am!” you said, pumping your fist. Whatever the finest confectioner in Ponyville had in mind, it was sure to send your tastebuds on a journey. Besides, you had nothing else to do that night. Why not stick around and talk a little?
So you sat yourself down at one of the tables, finishing up catching your breath.
You soon spotted Cup Cake coming back downstairs. She had dressed down into her usual yellow uniform and apron bearing her cutie mark, as well as her typical pink flats she used for work.
“Aren’t we closed today, Mrs. Cake? Not that I’m complaining, but don’t you own anything more…comfortable?”
Your eyes went wide as you just realised the implications behind what you just said, but the kind mother just giggled a little, going behind the glass counter to search for something.
“I guess I could use more casual clothes, dearie, but this is just the first thing I thought of…” she replied, pulling out a mouthwatering slice of red velvet cake. She walked over to your table, leaning over and winked at you, placing the slice of cake in front of you.
Was…that a faint blush on her face?
Did she take what you said the wrong way?
“One more moment, dear, let me get myself something…I could do with a little refresher myself.”
Mrs. Cake stood on her tiptoes, her...appealing-looking blue soles briefly popping out above her flats. She was facing directly away while searching for something, giving you all the time in the world to gaze…and appreciate.
The hypnotic way her feet moved, even while under the strain of her slightly extra body weight, had captured your undivided attention. She had clearly been on them for most of the day. There was a light white dusting of flour on various areas of her curvy blue soles, suggesting that the flats hadn’t been cleaned out too well after her previous shift.
“There we go, dearest,” the beautiful baker said, cutting you off from the view of her soles. You quickly pulled your focus off her feet or her curves, beginning to indulge in your slice of cake. She sat across from you at the table with a small bottle of soda, sighing heavily. You knew that look all too well, the look of utter exhaustion.
“Mmm, now THAT is delicious,” you gushed, delighted. ‘Finally, some good focking food,’ you finished in your head. Seriously, you hadn’t eaten all day, and half-eaten toddler cookies weren’t exactly appealing.
Mrs. Cake took a sip of her soda. “Oh, dear, I’m happy to hear that…”
“Seriously, this is magical!” you said, quickly devouring the rest of the cake. “Mrs. Cake. Please. I’m begging you,” you said as you grasped her delicate blue hands, giving her your best begging eyes. “Teach me the recipe.”
There was that faint blush again. Her eyes looked down from yours to her held hands, and then back to your face.
And then a tired little smile began to form.
“I dunno, dearie, we’re closed now. I might be convinced, though, if you did a little something for me?” she replied. You felt the weight of one of her flats resting atop your shoes. Then you felt the tip of the other prod your shin.
“M-Mrs. Cake…?” you stammered. Her hands were now wrapped around yours, instead of the other way around.
You heard a small clatter below the table. And then another. You had a feeling you knew exactly what happened, and it was confirmed when you felt one of her bare feet press up against your leg.
Her eyes, they gazed into yours. Half lidded, peering right into your soul. You felt her other bare foot, and the slight dusting of flour, start to rub up and down your lower leg.
“I could use a little rub, Anon, dearie…” she began, resting her head in one hand. Her left foot trailed up past your lower leg, and the heel rested on your thigh.
“I’ve just had such a long day…I’m sure YOU wouldn’t mind helping me out…would you?” she finished, her right foot promptly joining the left on your legs.
You gulped, wiping sweat from your head. She actually saw you. You weren’t as subtle as you thought. And the things you said to her…
‘Not that I’m complaining’, was that the wrong thing to say?
Mrs. Cake crossed her bare blue feet over one another, curling her toes and turning your face as red as hers. “Pretty please, dearie? Just this once? Pinkie said you would…”
No, that was NOT in fact the wrong thing to say.
Silently thanking your best friend for surprising you that way, you laid your hands on the confectioner’s feet, sliding them up and down from heel to toe and back to heel. Apart from the small dusting of flour, which you were able to sweep off, the soles were unbelievably soft. They exuded the warmth of a hard day’s work, and the toes were perfectly sized for her.
“Mmmm…this is nice, Anon, dearie, but would you mind putting a little more pressure?” Cup Cake hummed. She bit her lower lip, rubbing her feet against one another, splaying her toes widely for you.
You couldn’t say no to her. You firmly grasped her silky blue feet, pressing your thumbs firmly into the heels, working your way up the bottoms ever so slowly. Your actions earned a satisfied moan from your unlikely client, and a curl of her tired digits.
“Yes, ahhh, this is more like it, dear…” she sighed. Your hands meticulously moved their way up her worked-up soles, inspecting every inch of the supple skin. Each press of your fingers worked out just that much more tension, allowing the larger feet to relax after their uncomfortable ordeal earlier in the day.
Mrs. Cake’s eyes closed, your massage causing her legs and feet to relax more. What you didn’t quite take note of, is that her heels on your legs began to slowly slide inwards…until you were pulling each of her plump toes back and forth, and both of her feet slid down between your legs.
And they weighed right on your painfully-twitching bulge.
But Mrs. Cake didn’t immediately pull away her precious, curvy feet. One of her eyes opened halfway, a more seductive look creeping onto her face.
“Is…something going on you’re not telling me, Anon?” she inquired, playfully. Her soft soles pressed a little more firmly down on your bulge, grinding back and forth painfully slowly.
“M-Mrs…Cake, I didn’t mean…” you started.
“Oh, how inappropriate, all I asked for was a simple massage, dearie…” she giggled, running the bottom of her foot over the tip of your bulge. “You can say sorry to me by giving me a kiss.”
You couldn’t say no to her, even when she was messing around like that. So you leaned way over the table to reach her and…
Found yourself staring at both of her appealing blue soles, propped up on the table. Pressed together, side by side. And then rubbing up against one another, as if calling for you.
Mrs. Cake ran a single finger in the shape of a heart across one of her feet. “A kiss right HERE, dear.”
Your jaw dropped as you sat back down, your hands grabbing onto the backs of her waiting feet. After taking a few seconds to enjoy the cake-frosting scent…you went in for the kill, so to speak.
Your face pressed so firmly up against the curved sole, exactly where the little heart was drawn. You locked lips against the sole, kissing it passionately. Your tongue soon joined in on the fiery lust you had for Mrs. Cake’s wonderful foot, swirling in circles to enjoy her taste, her texture. Soon enough you were having to hold her foot as still as you could, to prevent it from wriggling around so much.
The busty baker burst out into little giggles as your lips met the other sole. You rubbed your face so firmly against the curved surface, earning a curl from her toes that gripped your forehead and held it in place for a second, before releasing you and allowing you to take each toe into your mouth. Every one was scrumptious beyond your wildest imagination, and you ensured they all got a thorough, loving tongue bath.
It had seemed like no time had passed at all since your face first met her foot, but Mrs. Cake pulled her feet off the table regardless. “Hehehehe, alright, dearest, your apology is accepted, and I forgive you…now, for that treat I promised you earlier…”
Her slickened blue feet once again retreated below the table to press up against your now-leaking bulge, causing you to let out a loud moan. Even through your clothing, you could just FEEL how soft they were. How warm.
It wasn’t long before her flexible toes were able to undo your pants as well as your boxers, letting your hardened member spring free. You would not have time to be amazed at her dexterity there, because her soft soles immediately hugged around your cock.
Her face reddened further as she rested her head in her hands, her soles sending you into a complete haze of unimaginable pleasure. They began to glide up and down your length with great skill, the soles catching every drop of precum with ease.
You clutched the table, groaning in pleasure as she gripped your dick with all of her toes on both feet, sliding up and down in unison. The warm embrace of her sweet toes began to push you closer and closer to the edge, and the grip was becoming ever tighter.
“M-Mrs. Cake…g-gonna…” you managed to grunt out.
The confectioner reached across the table to stroke your chin with one finger, pressing your cock between her curved arches once again. “Go ahead, dearie.”
Her expertise quickly became too much to handle, and the second the soft bottoms wrapped around your tip, you lost control and finished. A heavy load was unleashed, each and every one of your warm spurts landing on either her succulent toes or her curvy soles. You couldn’t help but thrust upwards in your seat between the supple surfaces, pressing your tip directly into her soles wherever you were able to, further covering the bottoms of her amazing feet in your essence.
When the high of your intense orgasm subsided, you were finally able to see properly. A pair of messy, white-splattered beautiful blue feet stared back at you, rubbing together and spreading the sticky seed even further than you could have hoped to. That was nearly enough to get you hard and ready all over again, but Mrs. Cake was too good at what she did. You would need time to recover for the moment.
“That…that was…Mrs. Cake, you’re s-so…” you gasped and panted.
“Weeeelll, I do my best, dear…” she said, giggling. “Before you go home tonight…maybe…I could convince you to take over for Pinkie on a more…permanent basis? As our babysitter?” she asked, curling her cum-covered toes once again.
“That all sounds well and good, and I’d be happy to….but you know…I’m not actually doing anything tonight…do I HAVE to go home…?” you replied, putting a hand on her right foot.
“You would…keep me company tonight, dearie? I’m sure I still have some things to do…you would help me out?” she asked, smiling sheepishly and placing her left foot in your other hand.
That was all it took to convince you. Your side-gig was going to be a little longer than you imagined…
-End
Author's Note
Buccellatoe. Toeramisu. Soleacz. Panettone.
I need something sweet rn.
sweetfeet
