After an hour of feeding this Pink pony's insatiably voracous hunger, you're left with several empty pastry trays and an even emptier stomach. You rub your empty belly sadly, and plead with Pinkie to let you go so you can get a bite to eat. But she shakes her head playfully and hops out of her seat.
"Oh no," Pinkie says, "I can't let you go now! We just met and there's so much more we have to do, plus you haven't even finished my request. There's still a teensy weensy bit more for you to do for me..."
"More? But Pinkie, I'm starving!"
"Oh shush, silly-Willy, you didn't even hear what the last part is. For my final favor, you gotta eat!"
She punctuates the statement by kicking a pantry door behind her, and a deluge of pastries tumbles out. You go wide-eyed, and your mouth hangs open, drooling. She quietly pushes her reclining chair toward you, gesturing you to take a seat. You shiver in delight when you realize the seat is still wamrwant thanks to Pinkie's ample tush. You close your eyes, relaxing as best as you can, and you feel Pinkie's hooves wrapping a clothe around your neck. It's a bib, a tiny pink one, with a cupcake embroidered on it.
"Sorry sweetums, but I have a tendency to get a little sloppy while I feed," Pinkie says, while taking a single sandwich cookie from her pile of sweets. It's the chocolate kind, with the cream filling, your favorite. "Ready Peachy?"
You nod furiously, and open your mouth wide. A few droplets of drool fall on your bib.
"Nu-uh, you gotta tell me you want it."
You're going absolutely mad, "I want it! I want it soooo bad, give it to me give it to-MMPHF."
She stuffs the cookie into your mouth, and you chew like a madmare. Before you're even halfway done, though, she prods your lips with another cookie. You chomp down on it, but while your mouth is still open she jams two more in, making it hard to keep chewing. Pinkie shows no sign of stopping, and you nearly choke on your chocolatey mouthful.
Pinkie notices you struggling and retrieves a carton of milk from her nearby cupboard. She places the lip of it against your mouth and you gulp down the warm, creamy beverage. Pinkie giggles at your enthusiasm.
"That's right, drink it all down. Mama Pinkie made this milk especially for you."
Perhaps the implications of that statement would worry you, but currently you're too concerned with cookies and your ever swelling belly. Pinkie breaks out her special peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, still warm from when she baked them this morning. The mare wastes no time shoveling the semi-soft cookies down your gullet, and washes it down with another swallow of mare's milk. Your mind is beginning to feel very lax, and her extra-chunky strawberry fudge pie isn't helping. You're spilling food and spittle all over your bib, and are breathing harder and harder.
You're going to lose your girlish figure if this goes on much longer.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author