Dear Diary,

I have this urge to smash Rarity’s face against a wall that I need to suppress…

I looked down at my right hand as I walked in some random direction away from the Carousel Boutique. It was balled in a fist, shaking. My breath was notably heavier than usual as well. Fuck Rarity. Seriously. If she got raped and gutted by a mugger I wouldn’t give a damn, but have to suppress a laugh in her funeral. What a fucking bitch.

From what I saw on the buildings around me, I was headed in the direction of Sugarcube Corner. Just fucking great. Truly great, going in the direction of one of that bitch’s friends. What sort of idiot would be friends with a bitch like her? Were they just exploiting her to get cheap clothes or something? Wouldn’t fucking surprise me.

No one else seemed to be outside, and the sun had set already. What time was it? And what did it matter? Who in this shit town would I want to spend time with anyway? If a crazy bitch like Rarity was highly regarded here, this place would not be something for me once the sexy fun time ended.

I had no idea whose house it was, but I walked up to the front door of one of them and sat down on the small elevation in front of it. I didn’t want to go back to Twilight’s house just yet. It would be rude in my current mood. She wasn’t at fault for what had happened at Rarity’s place. Really, no one but Rarity was to blame for it, so I should probably let the thoughts about this town stay in my head until further information could be gathered.

In the absence of distractions, my thoughts returned to the strange… something that had happened in the cellar, just before Rarity had come down. That girl. Who was she? Why hadn’t Rarity reacted to her? And why the hell did I remember her taking my dick out, but a moment later Rarity didn’t notice and my pants had been fully on? Was it some sort of delusion brought about by something that had happened in that room? Some transition between being asleep and awake messing with my head? Whatever it had been, it nagged at the back of my head.

And so did what she had said. The memory of that just struck me. What the hell did it mean that Rarity was influenced by her? Something about turning her emotions more extreme, I thought I remembered. What the hell did that even mean? Probably something along the lines of the creepy cupcakes Pinkie Pie had made for Rainbow Dash that turned her into a sexcrazed… something. No good metaphors came to mind.

Was it then even Rarity’s fault for… was I even asking this question? Yes! It was her fault that she had locked me up in a cellar and beaten me while I was chained up on a misconception that she could have avoided by actually taking a moment to talk to her sister! That she might have been under some influence that strengthened her emotions didn’t change the fact that she had acted like a fucking asshole!

Sweetie Belle gave some hope for the rest of the town though. Had what she had done been something that wasn’t frowned upon, I’d doubt that she had reacted the way she did. Ugh. What a mess I’d probably had created between the two of them. No way was that something that would go over quickly, I thought. Unless they had been through shit like that before. Which wouldn’t surprise me, when I thought about it. If that just a more extreme version of Rarity’s emotions, she was probably disturbed already, to some degree.

“Hey! How have you been!?”

My heart jumped up in my throat as Pinkie Pie, in the best way I could describe it, appeared from behind my back with no apparent explanation for it. Back to this? Just fucking great. Like I needed something to test my patience right now.

“Great, Pinkie. Just. Fucking. Great,” I replied with as much sarcasm as I could possibly put in my tone. “I’ve been great. Nothing like being beaten while chained up in a dark cellar, after being tossed around a room like a ragdoll.”

“That is… what?” Pinkie’s mouth was left halfway open and one of her eyebrows went way further up in her forehead than I had ever seen a normal person capable of. Something like an inch from the hairline. “What!? Who!? Why!?”

“Me, chained up in Rarity’s cellar and beaten, because I slept with her sister.”

She blinked a few times, before she busted out in laughter. However, when I showed no signs of joking with her, her expression turned back to one of confusion.

“Gotta run!”

As fast as she had appeared, she disappeared once again. What the hell was she up to now?

Weirdo. And who the hell lived in the house I was sitting in front of? And why did I suddenly care so much about that? Man, this place had to have messed up my head some good. Or maybe it was just my normal curiosity being stimulated by the weird people of this town, so I automatically wanted to know what the next person was like.

Just before Pinkie was gone from the range of my sight, I noticed that she was headed in the direction of Twilight’s place. Had she decided to tell Twilight? That could be very awkward. It was largely a slander towards her friend I had just spouted out, true as it may be. Probably not happily received.

My mind returning to the question of who lived in the house behind me, I stood up and turned around. Looking for any signs, I looked for a nametag somewhere, but it was nowhere to be found. At least not on the house itself. Maybe on the mailbox?

A few feet from the door there was an old school mailbox of the likes that one usually saw in cartoons, with one of those red flags to signal that there was new mail. Nothing on that one either, other than an hourglass. That was helpful. A lot.

I was about to start peeking in the windows, but decided against it. Why bother? I’d already had one encounter of “citizen justice” in this town. No need to tempt fate further just yet.

Where should I go? Already being at my feet, I didn’t feel like sitting down again. Follow Pinkie? Nah, not now. If she had to run because of something, why bother her? If it was important, I was sure she’d come and find me when she needed to. She sure didn’t seem to have trouble tracking me down.

Maybe I should just go home to Twilight’s? I probably should. I had promised to talk to her at a time that had already passed. Maybe she was worried? No, probably not. I hadn’t heard anything that would suggest that. Pinkie would probably have mentioned it if she knew. So, should or shouldn’t I go back to the treehouse?

Not wanting to have to make up my mind right now, I closed my eyes and started to spin around. After what felt like two or three rounds, I stopped and started to walk in the direction I faced, before I opened my eyes. Why not do some random nightly exploration?

When I opened my eyes again I was a little disappointed. I had started to walk in the direction of Sugarcube Corner, meaning I had just resumed my walk form before I sat down. Oh well, I had already decided to do it this way, so I might as well continue. And who knew? I might run across something that would improve my mood.

Casting a look up at the skies, I saw that a very familiar sight; what looked a bit like a winged… human, for a lack of a better word for the inhabitants of this place, flew across the moon. Where had I seen that before? Probably one of the former nights. In a place where people had wings, it wouldn’t be that unusual of a sight. A reasonable assumption to make, I’d say. Gods, I hoped something interesting would happen soon.

“You could break into one of these houses, you know.”

Somehow, without me noticing, the girl I had seen in Rarity’s basement was now walking right next to me. Nothing seemed to have changed about her, other than the circumstances we were in. She was still naked, for whatever reason. Maybe if I ignored her she would go away.

“If you’re lucky, you can find someone to have a good time with. Most people who live here are female… it’ll be easy... Just pick a house at random…”

“What!?” Had she really just suggested what I thought she had? That was… fucked up to say the least. “Why? And you are you, again?”

“Just an interested party…”

An interested party? Did she really think that answer cut it? I just shook my head and continued my efforts to ignore her.

“Go on, do it. Pick a house. We both know you want to…”

No, I didn’t want to. I wanted her to shut the fuck up and leave me alone. I was not in the mood for her right now, naked or not. Her appearance in Rarity’s cellar made sure of that.

“Do it.”

“No.”

“Do. It.”

“I said no.”

“Do it!”

“I said no, you fucking bitch!”

“Umm, are you alright dear?”

I blinked and looked at Mrs. Cake. Apparently I hadn’t noticed that I had arrived at Sugarcube Corner, and now the girl I had been talking to was gone again. I must have eaten something weird. Or maybe I was losing my mind. That seemed to be a fairly reasonable explanation.

“I’m sorry, I must have drifted off into my own mind… or something like that…”

I tried to add a laugh, but it didn’t seem to help much. She still looked at me with a raised eyebrow, which I couldn’t really fault. Jeez, I had just appeared like an idiot around her again, though this time I luckily didn’t have my hands on her. Well, luckily in a sense.

“It is okay, dear, we all have our traits that shouldn’t be made public. Talking to yourself is one of the less harmful ones, to a degree at least.”

“Yeah… talking to myself…”

I hesitated as I replied, mumbling as I did. Mrs. Cake was standing outside the shop, leaned against the wall with a cigarette between her fingers. She still wore the apron she had used during the day, if the spot of cake frosting on it was an indication, over the shirt and skirt. It was yellow with small, light blue cupcakes in random places.

“What about you?”

“Me?” she seemed a bit surprised at the question, but shrugged her shoulders. “My husband is taking the kids to Canterlot for the weekend, so I’m just enjoying a smoking break in peace and quiet.”

I almost didn’t manage to keep myself from hitting myself in the face with my hand. Really? I really had to wonder at times, with the weird stuff that had been going on the last few days: Was I trapped in some sick reality porn show where you’re not supposed to know that is what is going on? It kinda felt like it. How much more cliché could it be than what had just happened, in the setup for something like this? Only thing that came to mind would be that I was somehow involved with a teacher or principal for one of the Cutie Mark Crusaders because of their grades or behavior. But this was pretty bad on the cliché scale too.

“Oh, I… see.”

I didn’t really have an answer to what she had said, or any way to continue this conversation. I had been pretty much put out of commission the moment she had mentioned her husband was away.

“Yeah…” she lifted the cigarette to her mouth and inhaled, before lowering it down again. With a quick motion she also reached into her back pocket and pulled out the box it had come from, holding it out in my direction. “You want one? You look like you need it.”

My eyes dwelled a moment at her blue hand, but I ended up shaking my head.

“No thanks, I’m not a smoker. I don’t want to stand here and cough right now.”

“Suit yourself.”

I just nodded slowly to her comment, letting my eyes run across the shop behind her. Nothing really stood out about it that I hadn’t noticed already. Why was I still standing here, if we weren’t talking? Seemed pointless. Same with the question. Any idiot would see why I was still here, or at least why my body hadn’t chosen to move away just yet.

“So, why are you so tense anyway?” My eyes returned to her when she posed the question. “You seemed both distracted and annoyed when you saw me.”

“What? Oh, no, nothing abo-“

“Obviously, we barely met,” she cut me off before I could explain that she wasn’t a part of the reason, with a quick roll of her eyes to go with it. “Go on.”

“Well,” I started to form a sentence, but after the first word I heard that my voice didn’t make any effort to follow up on the explanation. What would I say anyway? That I had had some kinky sex with Rarity’s younger sister and she had locked me in a cellar because of it and now I was seeing things on top of that? Yeah, not likely to happen. “I have no idea, to be honest. I’m trying to figure out of it… sort off…”

She  just nodded, appearing to only halfway pay attention to what I was saying.

“Want to screw like rabbits? Might just relieve some of that tension.”

Looking at her for a couple of seconds, unsure of what to say, I had to ask myself what the hell just happened. She just went to the idea of cheating on her man like that? Man, they would have to have a terrible sex life.

“Umm… why would you propose such a thing? Aren’t you, you know, married and have children?”

“And?”

“You don’t see why I ask that? At all?”

She rolled her eyes again and stomped her cigarette on the ground. Before I could say or do anything else, she took me by the hand and pulled me in the direction of the house. A voice in the back of my head told me that this was a very stupid thing to do. A very, very stupid thing to do, considering what had happened the last time I slept with someone I perhaps shouldn’t have. But… I did have to ask myself if she was right about the tension. Could be good for me, to relax a little. Turn my thoughts away from the day as it had led up until this point.

Ah, what the hell, why not? Worry about her husband was something I could do later. Besides, I’d be an idiot if I believed that she’d tell her husband in the near future. And I really needed this. Mrs. Cake now offered to turn a shitty day into something that was a lot more interesting. No reason to turn it down.

I followed her into the store and up a flight of stairs. On a door we passed by there was a sign that said “PINKAMENA’S ROOM” in big pink letters. Not hard to figure out who lived there. I had to remember that one, for the next time I ran into her. Or the next time she ran into me, more likely.

Mrs. Cake didn’t seem to be interested in that door, but instead pulled me towards a door on the other side of the hall. This one had no sign on it, but moments after it was opened it was pretty obvious that it was their bedroom. Not that I hadn’t assumed as much before it opened. Why the hell would she be taking me to another room at this point?

You should take some initiative…

Yes, I should.

Just as we went through the door, I moved closer to Mrs. Cake, grabbing a hold of her apron and starting to untie it in the back. It was ready to be taken off in a manner of seconds, not giving her proper time to react before I had started to push her to the other side of the room and onto the bed itself. A grin spread on her face as she pulled off her apron and shirt in one move, revealing her bra. Skin, hair and clothes color theming seemed to be a thing in this place, since her bra matched her hair in color, though it was ever so slightly transparent. A hint of blue could be seen through it.

She was a few pounds heavier than Pinkie Pie, from the looks of it. And her chest must have fallen a little from where they must have been ten years ago. Still very good looking though. Better than a lot of younger women I had seen.

Mrs. Cake got to her feet again and took a hold of my shoulders, quickly returning the favor by throwing me to the bed. Following that, she reached to her left side with both hands and undid the button that held her skirt in place. It hadn’t really been visible when she had it on, but when the skirt fell to the ground I couldn’t help but notice that her hips were the widest of the ones I had seen bare since I came to this town. Man, she had some curves on her, like a racetrack. And not a NASCAR track either, thankfully. Her panties were in the same color and style as the bra.

I was working on my own clothes, but was interrupted just as I got the shirt and tshirt off my body. Mrs. Cake pulled me to the foot of the bed so I could sit with my feet on the floor and started to undo my pants. Didn’t take long before I felt her hand upon my member.

She started to move her hand up and down while she used the other one to pull my pants down further, with my help as soon as I got the idea that she wanted me to get them off. When they fell down around my ankles, my underwear followed shortly. So did the full attention from Mrs. Cake, who didn’t seem interested in spending too much time at this stage.

While giving me a full frontal view, Mrs. Cake stood up and let the twins out. I leaned forward and began to pull down her panties, revealing a small carpet that went with the drapes. It looked like it had been trimmed, without the intent to remove it entirely.

Without further ceremony, she pushed me back down on the bed from my seated position and climbed into the bed herself, standing on her knees over me.

“I wonder if the old recipe will work on these new ingredients,” Mrs. Cake let out a chuckle as she took a hold of me again and started to direct it to her “oven”. Once her hands had gotten the tip inside, I decided that I might as well add something to the procedure, even if she was in charge of the baking. I took a hold of her hips and forced her down, met by a moan or two on the way.

“Heh…”

She started to grind, but I had another idea. Moving my hands up to her arms, I pulled her down so she lied on top of me. Then I rolled over.

We stopped close to the side of the bed, me now on top of her. I pulled out, sat up on my knees and took a hold of her leg. With a little more force than I perhaps had needed, I placed her so her legs were inside of mine, trying not to grin as I did so.

“Can’t let the dish run cold, can we?” Mrs. Cake smiled and took a hold of me once more, guiding me through the narrow pass back to the oven. Baking puns? Really? She was making… never mind. Just enjoy it, ignoring the distractions and it should turn out fine. And it was kinda cute.

I entered her and was greeted by another moan, just as I had hoped. It was a tight fit, but eventually I reached the end of as far as I could go. When I started to pull out, I found that the same resistance worked the other way; Mrs. Cake pressed her legs together more, as if she didn’t want me to pull out.

My hands found themselves pressed between her back and the bed as I started to slowly move in again. Using this opportunity, I moved my right hand further down, to her hindquarters, and squeezed. It was firm, but still a bit softer than what the other girls had been. Age starting to set in, probably. She had to be in her mid-thirties or something like that. I also felt her hands on my lower back, but apparently my ass was not a point of interest.

Our mouths locked and broke and locked again, over and over, paused by heavy breaths. I had no idea how much time had passed, but I felt that I was starting to run on the shallow end of my stamina.

“I’m… I’m, close…” in between my panting I managed to let out a few words, hopefully somewhere along the line of telling her I was nearing the end. Just as I did, she spread her legs further apart and tried to make me get off her by pushing me to the side. Once I was off her, she practically rolled off the bed and down to the floor.

“Come here, dear,” Mrs. Cake sat on her knees by the edge of the bed, using her finger to gesture for me to come closer. “We need the frosting for the cupcakes.”

“Heh…” I let out something between a laugh and a chuckle as I made my way across the bed and over to Mrs. Cake and her cupcakes. I sat down at the edge, waiting for whatever she had in mind.

I didn’t really have to wait at all, since the moment it was possible, she moved as close as she could and gestured for me to take a hold of my member. While I did this, she took a hold of her cupcakes and pressed them against me.

Once she had gotten them to where she wanted, I let go and started to move my hips back and forth. Every time I pushed forward I could see my head, before it disappeared again.

“Ah…” a few moments later I felt myself empty and that Mrs. Cake’s cupcakes were getting frosted. It looked like an amateur’s work though, with no proper pattern at all. It was just kinda thrown and smeared on the two targets. The left one, from my point of view, had gotten a bit more. She must have been stealing something too, Mrs. Cake, for there was some frosting on her chin. I couldn’t help but to let out a chuckle. Baking puns. Now I was doing them in my head as well.

“That was fun,” she got to her feet and reached out a hand to help me up. “Do you feel better, dear? Did it help with your tension to try some baking?”

“Yeah, I do, and it was fun,” I had to let out another chuckle, though I also rolled my eyes.

“Good to hear, dear,” Mrs. Cake smiled and opened a closet I hadn’t noticed while we were going at it, taking out a towel to clean herself off. “There is a bathroom down the hall and the first door to the left where you can wash up, if you please. You smell a little. You’ll find everything you need in the closet on the far end of the room. Just make sure to hang the things you use up after you’re done.”

I did as she said and a minute or so later I was standing in a room that was mostly white. I had taken out a towel and a cloth and was now doing my best to hastily wash up.

”Oh- Sorry, I didn’t know it was occupied, my bad.”

My head instinctively turned to the door. A man with yellow skin looked at me, before he tried to close the door again.

“Wait, who are you?” I asked, halfway fearing what the answer might be.

“I’m Carrot,” he said and opened the door again, coming into the room. It didn’t seem to bother him that I was standing here naked with my clothes on the floor. “Carrot Cake. I run this store. With my wife.”

“Oh… he… he… I see.”

“Yes, I’m sure. Did you two have fun? I just got home and she told me she had company.”

“Yes, I… suppose we did have fun. I thought she said you were away with the kids for the weekend.”

Was I really here talking to the husband of the wife I had just done? And was he really fine with me standing naked in their bathroom with my clothes on the floor after his wife just told him that she had had company?

“No, no, that is just what she tells people when she wants sex,” Mr. Cake gave me a friendly smile. I had to blink a couple of time. He was cool with it? “Don’t give me that look, it is fine. We have an understanding. We love each other, but with the stress with the kids, there is sometimes not enough time to… long story short, we both get around from time to time.”

“Uh-huh…”

Wow, really? Seemed to be a fair arrangement. Maybe I should stop by more often? Seeing Mrs. Cake again didn’t seem that bad.

“Yeah,” he just shook his head, still with a friendly smile. “Well, I’ll leave you to clean up now. Don’t want to walk around being sweaty, do we?”

Ten minutes later I walked out the front door of Sugarcube Corner, still more than a little confused about what had just happened. In my hand I had a cupcake with the same color as Mrs. Cake’s hair. A gift from Mr. Cake, of all things. It had occurred to me that it could be poisoned, when he gave it to me, but Mrs. Cake had insisted to take a bite as well and she didn’t seem worse for wear because of it.

**

“SPIKE!”

Just as I opened the front door to the large tree that served as Twilight’s house, I heard her yell. I also saw that extra clothes and lots of scrolls were strewn about randomly. Some were floating in the air too, held up by magic I recognized to be Twilight’s.

“It’s here!”

A young boy, maybe a couple of years younger than me, jumped down from above my head and landed with his back turned to me just a few feet away. I couldn’t help but to notice that he had no hair, a tail and scales. His skin was a slightly darker shade of purple than Twilight’s Wait, tail and scales?

“Oh, thank Celestia, I was afraid I had loaned it out!”

Twilight came running down the stairs, picking up whatever it was Spike had gotten for her with her horn and put it in a suitcase.

“Oh, hey, you’re back! Spike, this is the guy I told you about.”

The scaly guy with the tail turned around, reaching out his hand to me as he did.

“Hi, I’m Spike. Number One Assistant.”