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The Bricklayer

Slow down, you're doing fine, you can't be everything you want to be, before your time... -Vienna, The Stranger: Billy Joel

More Blog Posts821

  • Friday
    New chapter

    Now, I had no excuse for skimping out on updates for two months. None, not even updating Magenta over on ArchiveOfOurOwn which you should totally check out by the way.

    So uh... just take this chapter as repentance.

    0 comments · 31 views
  • 1 week
    A Thank You

    Okay, like seriously, I feel the need to thank you guys. You guys... well, you went above and beyond with this story. Though it honestly was going to putter off and be forgotten for Christ's sake. Okay, yeah I know it's Marvel but seriously. I guess I haven't had the best track record with stories as of late, so my confidence as been rather low lately.

    Read More

    11 comments · 297 views
  • 1 week
    600 Followers Q&A

    So, reached the big 600. As always for milestones, holding a Q&A. Go on, ask me anything excusing certain topics like politics.

    20 comments · 127 views
  • 2 weeks
    Well, today was a wash...

    Can I be free to grumble a bit? Okay, so just published my 75th story a few short hours ago. You'd think there would be more celebrating and a lot less moping from me, right? ...once again, it seems I've failed to play the FIMfic game properly and didn't even net 20 likes. Which for me, is an average I try to hit.


    Read More

    19 comments · 200 views
  • 2 weeks
    Supreme Court rules Civil Rights Act of 1964 also protects against discrimination against orientation and gender identity


    The court said the language of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibits sex discrimination, applies to discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity.

    I have no words, just... simply amazing. This restored my faith in America for a bit.

    5 comments · 102 views

Story Review: Pinkie Dinky Pie · 6:45pm Jan 1st, 2019

Okay, new year, and that means new story reviews both good and bad. And today, we start off with a real whopper. I don't actually mean that in a bad sense, it's just that it's a rather long one-shot topping slightly over 8,000 words I think? Been putting it off for various reasons, not just because of the length but because I needed to figure out how to word certain things. Even now I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to word things right. But one of my Resolutions was to do this story at some point and so, therefore, I must. (Yes, yes, I'm a hypocrite I know.) Anyways, on with the Motley.

The story in question?

TPinkie Dinky Pie
Mrs. Cake discovers that she and Pinkie Pie have latent desires about foals and parenthood.
The Conflicted Writer · 8.8k words  ·  234  26 · 16k views

Yes yes, I know, a babyfur story. If you're not interested in continuing on, door's that way. But I'm impartial, and to be honest this story isn't in it for the fetish side of things. It actually, as you'll soon see explores a few sides of this community that most stories of this type either fail to do, or if they do it, do it well.

This is a little bit different.

Mrs. Cake counted herself among the very elite group of ponies – of which she and her husband were the only members – that would trust Pinkie Pie with something before trusting somepony else. It wasn’t that she was desperate; ponies such as Applejack, of whom it was widely believed she was the most dependable pony in all of Ponyville, were but an apple cobbler away from helping Mrs. Cake.

And then there were ponies like Twilight Sparkle, known throughout town as the “Best Unicorn that Ever Lived” because of her awesome power and status as Celestia’s personal student.

Then there was Rarity, generous to a fault.

Fluttershy, so kind that it made one’s heart ache.

Rainbow Dash… actually, most ponies were on the fence about that, if only because Ms. Dash was a slacker most extreme.

But the ultimate point was that Mrs. Cake would easily accept Pinkie Pie’s help and council before most others on many matters. Was it because she knew that Applejack was stubborn beyond what should be possible? Was it because she dealt with Twilight and her… perfectionism (dear Celestia, that grin)? Was it because of the numerous faults she could think of in other ponies?

No. Mrs. Cake trusted Pinkie because Pinkie was Pinkie. That was really all there was to it. At least, she thought that was it. It was hard to tell with Pinkie being so… Pinkie.

Okay, the very first passage of the story and already have to say I'm impressed. You see, quite a few stories of this type fail to show the motherly (or fatherly) side of the equation that comes with this, and I have read a few I admit and just go for either cuteness or focus on the character (Who in this case would be Pinkie) in diapers. This story right here already shows us from the first few paragraphs that Mrs. Cake/Chiffon Swirl already cares for Pinkie like a daughter. Not outright stated, but implied just enough.

Nothing came of it, though. Eventually Mrs. Cake couldn’t keep her eyes open and went to bed. The next morning, all was as it should have been. Mr. Cake began baking the goods for the day, Pinkie helped as she bounced on her hooves, and she took care of her darling baby twins. But the image nagged at her the whole time she was with Pound Cake and Pumpkin Cake. Pinkie looming over them, staring intently with a look Mrs. Cake had never seen her ward wear.

“Cup Cake?” Mr. Cake said, snapping her out of her thoughts. “Are you alright, sweetums?”

Mrs. Cake deliberated with herself for a few seconds. “I’m fine, honey bun. I’m just thinking, is all.”

“Care to share?” Mr. Cake grinned, stepping up to his children and placing them on his back, the two giggling as they bounced. “Maybe I can think about it as I take my shift.”

“As soon I know what I was thinking about, I’ll let you know, too.” She took a few steps toward the front room, but stopped. “I suppose Pinkie left for the day.”

“You know her. The second the lunch rush ends, Pinkie rush begins. I’m sure she’s out planning some kind of party. Maybe to celebrate Pokey’s one thousandth popped balloon. Did you need to ask her something?”

Mrs. Cake frowned. “I’m not sure. Don’t worry about it too much, but I think we might be dealing with another Pinkie Quirk.”

“Oh no,” Mr. Cake drawled, bringing a hoof to his forehead. “What’s it this time? Do we need a new storage shed for another gizmo? I told her I don’t need a personal flying machine when I can borrow hers.”

“Nothing so expensive, I hope,” Mrs. Cake said with a giggle. “You trust Pinkie, right? You know she would never intentionally hurt anypony.”

“Of course. If she did, she’d probably hurt herself trying to fix it.”

“And you trust me, right?”

“I wouldn’t have married you otherwise.”

Mrs. Cake patted Mr. Cake’s cheek. “Then don’t worry too much about it for now. I’ll tell you if there’s anything to worry about.”

Mr. Cake nodded. “Alright. Now hurry up and get out there, woman, or we might have a problem.”

Mrs. Cake rolled her eyes and grinned. “Oh, my, I wouldn’t want to incur your wrath, you brute.”

Okay, two things. First, I love how natural everyone seems here. Seriously, I honest to god do. Seriously, Mr and Mrs. Cake feel like a couple who's been married for years, and as someone who's written romance himself, I can tell you personally that's a hard thing to get right. Seriously, romance is a hard thing. Go ahead and try writing it sometime. It takes years to get right, and yet I think this author nailed it from the get-go. Also, I love how Conflicted doesn't just jump in with the diapered aspect. No, he or she builds up to it. As you'll notice, not even Pinkie knows if that's what she wants yet.

Mrs. Cake got out of bed and went into the hall. Silently as she could, Mrs. Cake prowled along the darkened floor to her single employee’s room. As she expected, the room was devoid of life. And also as she expected, when she reached her children’s room, Pinkie was hovering over the crib, staring at Pound and Pumpkin and wearing an expression that Mrs. Cake couldn’t make sense of.

This continued for several nights, with varying differences on Mrs. Cake’s part. She tried to stay up and figure out when it was the Pinkie went to perform her ritual. Always at one in the morning. Twice, Mrs. Cake was almost caught, tired from staying up so late and just exhausted from the effort of staying awake. Pinkie would leave, always, at four, as Mrs. Cake discovered those two times.

As Mrs. Cake found out, Pinkie didn’t do anything except stand and stare. At least physically. The elder mare knew that her student thought so fast she sometimes didn’t even understand herself. What is Pinkie thinking so intently about, she wondered to herself every second she was up watching.

Finally, after what seemed like weeks of this, Pinkie moved. Mrs. Cake felt her heart jump and checked the time. Two twenty-seven. At last, a vital clue might be revealed. She kept as close an eye on the pink pony as she could, hoping that she wouldn’t move out of the limited sight the door created. Pinkie Pie stopped at the changing table, where multiple supplies were kept for the babies. Pinkie opened one of the drawers and pulled out a pacifier.

A memory surged in Mrs. Cake’s mind of herself, Mr. Cake, and Pinkie realizing that such a little object had far too many names than what was practical. Pacifier, binky, dinky, suckle, dum-dum, dummy, to name a few. Mrs. Cake realized that Pinkie was the one to name most of them, something she had written off as Pinkie being Pinkie.

When said mare stuck one such object in her mouth, Mrs. Cake began to have doubts.

Pinkie sat with a new expression, one more recognizable to Mrs. Cake; curiosity. The pacifier was obviously too small for an adult mare’s mouth, but that didn’t stop her from taking some experimental suckles, loud and piecing in the silent night. Pinkie Pie giggled in that innocent Pinkie way and continued this. Mrs. Cake couldn’t say for how long, because she turned to go to her own room after watching for a few minutes.

She lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, processing the information she had received, comparing it to what she knew already. All sorts of confusing feelings welled up in Mrs. Cake that didn’t make any sense. She could find no answer, and knew any confrontation with her steward would end with nothing resolved. She needed to know what was happening with Pinkie before she said anything, and she knew nothing.

That night, she didn’t sleep at all.

Again, see what I mean? Not even Pinkie is sure if this is what she wants yet, and Mrs. Cake is the same way. Hell, Mrs. Cake isn't even sure what's going on yet, which is to be expected. I like how she's slowly figuring out or trying to anyways what exactly is going on with her Pinkie. Also, can I just say? Love how Mrs. Cake is the center of the story, not many stories out there do that and focus on her life.

This is continued on with the next several paragraphs, really, until Mrs. Cake goes out shopping for Pound and Pumpkin as seen below.

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long.” She walked to familiar path and grabbed the powdered milk, putting it in a bag. Same with two stacks of diapers. But her usual path led her past the pacifiers. She felt her mind melt like chocolate on a warm summer day.

What were you doing, Pinkie Pie? Why were you using one of Pumpkin’s dinkies?

Like so many things about Pinkie, this didn’t make sense. But this wasn’t a ‘Pinkie being Pinkie’ thing. There never was such a thing, Mrs. Cake knew. There was a method to all her madness, an obvious goal if not a clear plan. There was a smile as she did things, something that let Mrs. Cake know things would be fine.

Pinkie Pie wasn’t smiling all those times. She had an expression that Mrs. Cake couldn’t explain. If only she knew what it was…

“Mrs. Cake?” Boomer said from behind her.

“Yipes!” Mrs. Cake yelled before whirling around. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Boomer.”

Boomer shrugged. “Sorry, Cup Cake, but you were just standing there, staring at the dummies. A shopkeeper should assume that his customer has a question about dummies when she looks at them for five straight minutes.”

Mrs. Cake blushed. “Oh, sorry. It’s just… I’m curious about something.”

“Go on,” Boomer encouraged.

The question was said at random. She didn’t give any thought at all. At a later date, though, she would thank Celestia and Luna both that she asked it.

“Do they come in any larger sizes?”

Boomer’s eyelids lowered. “Mrs. Cake… how large are we talking?”

She blinked. “Huh?”

Boomer examined her up and down. “How large? Name a size. I think I can match it.”

Mrs. Cake felt herself pale a little at Boomer’s firm gaze. “I… huh?”

“Cup Cake, a toddler should grow out of it by two or three. If not, you need to force them to stop or it could screw up the way their teeth grow in. So, again, I offer you; Name a size.”

Mrs. Cake felt her heart beat for reasons she couldn’t make sense of. Did she dare risk Pinkie’s secret is the slightest, when she barely even touched the surface of the issue? Would this be going down the right path?

Mrs. Cake steeled her resolve. “Are you serious?”

“That depends; are you?”

She gulped. “Do you have them in larger sizes?”

“One more time, Cup Cake. Name a size.”


Boomer smiled a knowing smile before going to the front door. Mrs. Cake watched as he flipped the ‘Open’ sign to ‘Closed.’ “Step into the back, Cup Cake. I think I have what you’re looking for. Maybe even a little extra.”

With hesitant steps, Mrs. Cake followed Boomer, her brain knowing the implications but not wanting to make the conclusion. She followed him into a back room and, to her astonishment, it was set up exactly as the front, only with more artificial light. Boomer motioned for her to follow, and he led her to the aisle that was parallel with the one in the front. Like the other one, it had pacifiers. Unlike the other ones, these pacifiers were large.

Mrs. Cake picked one up and stared at it as another pony might stare at a discovered piece of gold. “I… what…?”

Boomer interrupted, “Take a look around first. I’ll be at the ‘other front counter’ when you’re ready to talk.” He left her to explore. And explore she did. All was at it was in the front, except for two differences.

Like I said, it's not immediate from the outset that Mrs. Cake wants to be Pinkie's mother, at least in this format. She's so completely caught off-guard by well... everything.

One; everything was sized for a pony that obviously wasn’t a baby. High chairs, toys, walkers, parts for cribs, and diapers. Mrs. Cake had seen store brand adult absorbent undergarments, but these weren’t like them. These were honest to goodness baby diapers, except not baby sized. Cloth or disposable, they were thick, long, and could handle a full job.

Two; there was more to choose from. The diapers alone came in a myriad of colors and designs. There were clothing and onesies that looked to be purposefully over frilled to be as embarrassing as possible. Then there were simply oversized baby clothes like overalls that had buttons along the bottom that would make changing easier. There were different flavors of formula, and she could even see that they were each specially designed with certain diets in mind.

After some time of browsing, Mrs. Cake came up to Boomer in a daze. Her mind and heart reeled. “What… is all this?”

Boomer set his magazine down. “What does it look like to you?”

“Don’t play with me now, Boomer! You know what I mean. Why are there adult sized diapers and toys and cribs, and, and… why is there baby things in adult sizes?”

Boomer smiled. “Ma’am, a question I pose. What make them baby things?”

“What do you mean? Babies use them!”

“Babies also breathe air. Babies eat. Babies sleep. Are these baby things?”

Mrs. Cake took a deep breath. “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry I snapped. This is very strange to me.”

“I’m judging from your reaction you aren’t the foal.”

“Please, Boomer. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Boomer sighed. “Mrs. Cake, this here is a secret supply store of all things Adult Foal, as it’s called. I’ll put it simple; an Adult Foal is an adult with foal-like tendencies. They can talk and walk and behave just fine, but some part of them wants to do some of the things babies are allowed to do. Personally, I don’t think it’s quite that way. I think they just never wanted to stop, but were forced to because of standards. For some, they’ll say it makes them feel young. For others, they can’t give a response. But most will tell you that cuddling a stuffed animal, being wrapped snug in a diaper, and sucking on a dummy makes them feel safe.

“I secretly sell these items to those who want them. Here in my shop, I make, collect, and trade supplies for any foal, no matter how old they may be. Now, can I interest you in anything or do you have everything you need?”

Mrs. Cake gulped and rubbed a temple. “I’m overwhelmed. I can’t believe that a place like this exists.”

“Yet here it is.”

“How… how many customers do you have?”

“I can’t give away anything personal, but you’d be surprised. If everypony who shopped here suddenly went out in public dressed, you couldn’t look in any direction without seeing at least one.”

She had guessed it, but she had to hear it. “I’m not… this is crazy.”

“I guess that leaves us with you. Why did you come asking if you aren’t the foal? Are you finding one and feeling motherly?”


“Sure. Some foals have a parent that helps them be who they are. There’s no better feeling than the embrace of somepony you know loves you enough to take care of you. And those ponies love being a parent, love making a forever foal feel safe. Just like there are feelings in an Adult Foal that never want to give up certain childish things, there are those that, since birth, want to take care of others. Are you one of those, Mrs. Cake?”

Mrs. Cake unintentionally thought back to her younger years, the time spent playing with dolls and pretending they were alive, foalsitting and imagining the child was her own. The carnal need to protect and love sompony was forced into her face, and she was not prepared for it.

“I… I need to go.” Mrs. Cake turned to the door.

“There’s a special on dummies this week, Mrs. Cake,” Boomer called.

Mrs. Cake felt her lips scrunch as she considered it.

See what I mean? This story is honestly going through how Mrs. Cake could possibly take this, as nice as she is this would probably catch anyone off guard. Even her, even a mare who treats Pinkie like a third daughter. I mean, let's be realistic here. Babies are a big job already, but caring for an adult mare who enjoys foalish things is a whole another hurdle entirely am I right? Now, I have very little experience in this, but even I can tell this is how things would probably go down in a positive outcome. It wouldn't be: "I want to care for this kid from the start." No, you would hesitate, and be confused by all of this. And again, I love how the characters were completely on-point throughout this whole story so far, the author capturing their voices if you know what I mean.

Much later that day, Mrs. Cake was sitting in the park after having realized she accidentally shoplifted the items she had meant to buy for Pound and Pumpkin. She had found a secluded area, devoid of anypony, and sat alone on a bench.

Upon her face she wore a small, excited smile. A thought replayed over and over in her head.

Of course.

She laughed at herself, thinking about all the time she had spent thinking to reach such a simple conclusion.

Of course I love my darling little Pie as if she were my daughter. If it wasn’t for her, I might have never had Pound and Pumpkin in the first place.

Of course Pinkie reminds me of a foal. She’s so sweet and innocent, so simple and pure. Her very being is an adult foal incarnate.

Of course I want her to be my baby. I can’t imagine life without her. I’ve always been a mother. She’s family no matter what. She my darling little Pie.

Of course.

Of course.

Now I understand. Of course I couldn’t recognize her expression. Pinkie has never worn it before. Jealousy, with some curiosity mixed in. She was wondering what it was like to be one of them.

Of course she looked just so right with a dinky in her mouth. She’s a forever foal, and I’m an eternal mother. That’s all there is to it.

Mrs. Cake let out a contended sigh, knowing that this was strange. But years of living with Pinkie showed her that standards were dumb. The best desserts and pastries they had were what Pinkie made in the bouncy mess that was her mind, so free and separated from everything. Beliefs were boring and pointless.

Now, what was she to do about this? Sure, she had made the shocking revelation that Pinkie desired to act like a foal.

Be the foal she really is, she corrected herself.

And she realized that she wanted to be Little Pie’s mother. But would Pinkie be receptive of the treatment or be too scared? And what about her husband? What would Carrot think of the whole thing?

Mrs. Cake decided that it was time to handle this in a rather Pinkie fashion. Pick a goal, and don’t stop until she got there.

Her goal was to be Pinkie’s mommy, and for Pinkie to be her foal. Ludicrous though it might have seemed, she determined that nothing was going to get in her way.

“Excuse me,” an elderly pony said. “But you’re scaring the pigeons away.”

Mrs. Cake blushed, realizing that somewhere in her inner monologue she had struck a dramatic pose on the bench she had been sitting on. With a blush and quick apology, Mrs. Cake hopped off and began the trot home.

Okay, a bit of funny, but the most important thing is the inner monologue. Shows more of Mrs. Cake's conflicting thoughts, and how she's worried about her husband taking this. Yes, she wants to care for Pinkie in this way, but she's also worried about what Pinkie would think, like any good mother and what her husband would think as let's face it, more money they have to spend on foal supplies. Well, that and how out of the ordinary it is.

I'll skip ahead a bit, just a bit. Anyways, Mrs. Cake manages to talk to her husband about all of this, and you do see more of why they've been married for so long. And then we get to this.

“Don’t quit yet,” Pinkie said as she jumped up and missed Pound by a fraction. “I’ll get ‘em.”

“Nope, I don’t want cake anymore,” Mr. Cake said as he snuck around Pinkie to get behind her. “I’m suddenly in the mood for pie.”

Pinkie stopped and scratched her head. “Pie? What does that mean?” Mr. Cake tackled Pinkie to the ground and began to tickle her ribs. Pinkie, naturally, laughed.

“H-hey!” Pinkie shouted between fits of giggles. “No f-fah! Fair! W-we’re supposed t-to be on th-the same team!” Pinkie laughed some more.

“Too bad, this giant needs some pie, and the giant always gets what he wants!” After a little bit, Pinkie was left huffing and puffing on the ground, Mr. Cake holding her in a tight hug.

“You *pant* cheater,” Pinkie said with another giggle.

“Sorry, my little Pie, but you looked too delicious.” Mr. Cake ran a hoof over her mane. “Have I ever told how much I love to hear you laugh?”

Pinkie thought about it for a second. “Nope, I don’ think so.”

Mr. Cake hugged her a little tighter. “Well, then, I’ll tell you now; I love to hear you laugh.” They both shared a giggle.

“Pie!” Pound shouted, landing on Pinkie and rubbing her belly. Pinkie tried to kick and flee, but Mr. Cake’s hug had become a grip.

“Cheaters!” Pinkie laughed as Pumpkin began to tickle her neck.

“Mwa, ha, ha!” Mr. Cake laughed, back in his ‘giant’ voice. “Looks like we all get pie this morning.”

“Alright, you giants,” Mrs. Cake said, walking past them. “Momma giant needs to go do some shopping she didn’t get to do yesterday. The house better not be a mess when I get back.”

“Okay, momma giant,” Pinkie replied, and her eyes shifted around and little. Oops. I hope she didn’t catch that.

Mrs. Cake smiled. “Alright. Be back soon, sweeties.”

“Howdy, Mrs. Cake,” Boomer said with a cheeky grin. “I see you’re back.”

“I am,” Mrs. Cake affirmed. She put some bits on the counter. “Sorry for running off without paying. I was fairly confused yesterday.”

“Eh, it happens,” Boomer said, waving it off.

Mrs. Cake took a deep breath. “Boomer… you’re right. I am a mother, and I’d like to always be one. But just like with my own babies, I have no clue what I’m doing. I have what I believe to be an Adult Foal, and I think she’s only just figuring it out herself.”

Boomer nodded gently and walked into the back room, Mrs. Cake following. “Don’t be nervous, Cup Cake. This isn’t a monster’s world you’re entering; it’s a world full of love and happiness.”

“Do you have a foal, Boomer?”

Boomer smiled. “Two, in fact. They’re such little darlings. I’m going to my eldest’s harp concert up in Canterlot next week, and the other owns a sweet shop you sometimes compete against. I love them to pieces. Now, let’s set you up with the basics.” Boomer put a box on his back. “Is your husband privy to this?”

“He’s all for it, in fact,” Mrs. Cake said.

“Ooh, your daughter is a lucky one. Most Adult Foals only get one parent. And I assume Pinkie’s the child?”

Mrs. Cake blushed. “I guess it is pretty obvious, isn’t it? What with how she is… what with how I am.”

Boomer nodded. “Right. So,” he walked down some isles, Mrs. Cake following, “since you’re not sure how much she’s into it, let’s start with the basics. Some dummies, some milk, bottles, and diapers. Every Adult Foal is different, and you’ll need to experiment with that. There’s a spot where they stop, some boundaries you don’t want to cross. She may or may not want to be bathed, or she might not mind either way. She might want a crib, she might not. She may just wet, she might not even do that.”

“Right, boundaries.”

“Knowing Pinkie, though, she’ll probably be full baby. But, again, just basics for now. Here’s the diapers.”

“Hmm,” said Mrs. Cake, examining them carefully. “They’re so thick.”

“It varies, but for most Adult Foals, thickness is equal to happiness. I think it makes them feel safe.”

“Alright, what’s the thickest you have, then?”

Boomer pointed to a stack of pink diapers. “Here’s the thickest disposable we have at present, in what I think would be the preferred color. For cloth, you can go as thick as you want. You just have to make sure you have the plastic pants for it. Or go for the all-in-one custom for a specific size.”

Mrs. Cake grabbed the stack of pink diapers. “These will do for now. After all, they look like they’ll make her waddle enough.”

“True enough,” Boomer said, taking the diapers and putting them in the box. “So, we got dummies, diapers, and bottles. Shall we say chocolate milk?”

Mrs. Cake nodded. “I think that will work.”

Boomer put the last item in the box and brought it to the counter. Mrs. Cake looked inside, feeling strange warmth within. She imagined her little Pie using the simple items inside and couldn’t stop her smile, knowing the items would be so much more than mere objects to herself and Pinkie.

“There we go,” Boomer said. “You’re all set.”

“Are you sure?” said Mrs. Cake, her voice wobbling. “I’m so worried I’m going to… no, I told myself I wasn’t going to falter or stop. I can do this. I’m going to make Pinkie my baby.”

Boomer chuckled. “That’s something you don’t hear very often. You must really love her already.”

Mrs. Cake kicked at the ground. “Well, I’ve secretly always wanted to baby her. It took seeing her look the part and you showing me all this,” she motioned with her hoof around the store, “to realize it. I owe you a lot.”

Boomer shrugged. “Think nothing of it. And here.” He pushed the box to her. “Free of charge.”

“Are you sure?”

“Hey, I did the same thing for Pound and Pumpkin. Like I said then; you’ll be back for fresh diapers, so I’ll make a profit in the long run.”

Mrs. Cake nodded and put the box, neatly closed up, on her back. “Really, thank you, Boomer. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have three little foals at home that need their momma.”

Mrs. Cake, finally steeling her resolve and deciding that yes, she's ready for all of this. Also, I do love how Boomer explains how every AF is different, and the boundaries. Might be a bit of an author tract on Conflicted's part, I'm not sure. Also...

Boomer smiled. “Two, in fact. They’re such little darlings. I’m going to my eldest’s harp concert up in Canterlot next week, and the other owns a sweet shop you sometimes compete against. I love them to pieces. Now, let’s set you up with the basics.” Boomer put a box on his back. “Is your husband privy to this?”

Lyra and Bon-Bon? How the Hell did I miss this on first reading? How???

Pinkie ever so carefully placed another block at the top of the tower. It wobbled the slightest bit, but remained standing.

“Woo!” the four of them cheered.

“I don’t think it can get any taller,” Mr. Cake said.

“But Pound is trying!” Pinkie said whilst hopping. Pound was fluttering with another wooden block in his hooves, trying very carefully to put it at the top of the seven foot tall stack.

“I’m home!” Mrs. Cake yelled.

This surprised Pound, who tipped over and sent the tower crumbling to its doom. “Oops…” he said, looking at the pile. Mrs. Cake walked into the living room.

“What did I say about there being a mess?” Mrs. Cake said with faux annoyance.

“This mess is new, we swear!” Pinkie said. “We were making a ginormous tower, but then you walked in and it fell down, and what’s in the box?” Pinkie looked at the brown box on Mrs. Cakes back, hopping around her to look at it from every angle.

“A surprise for you, actually,” Mrs. Cake said.

“A surprise? I love surprises! Can I open it, can I, can I, can I?”

“No,” Mrs. Cake said, poking Pinkie Pie on the nose. “I’ll be the one to open it, in your room after Carrot puts the twins down for a nap.”

“Alright dear,” Mr. Cake said. “Is that the…?”

Mrs. Cake nodded.

“What is it, what is it?” Pinkie whined.

“Go up to your room and be patient,” Mrs. Cake said, but Pinkie disappeared halfway through the sentence. She turned to her husband. “Did you have fun?”

Mr. Cake blushed, putting his half-asleep children on his back. “Well, I… yes, I did. You were right; she is just like a foal when you get down to it.”

“I told you. Did you make them lunch?”

“Yep. Seeing Pinkie eat the peach mush made the twins go for it. I think she needs a bib, though.” He grinned.

Mrs. Cake playfully slapped her forehead. “I knew I forgot something. Next time?”

Mr. Cake blushed. “Yes… next time for sure. I’m ready to move forward, after this. I think I could be her father forever.”

Mrs. Cake felt warm inside. “I knew you would like this. Well, here goes. The first step into the rest of our lives.” She made to trot up the stairs to Pinkie’s room as Mr. Cake went to tuck the twins in for naptime. She found Pinkie patiently waiting on her bed, bouncing a little to the left and right. Mrs. Cake set the box down.

“Oh boy, what’s inside? I can hardly wait! Is it a new bed for Gummy?”

Mrs. Cake giggled and shook her head. “I’ll show you in a minute, my little Pie. But first there are some things you need to know, and I need you to be quiet. Can you do that?”

Pinkie vigorously nodded her head.

Mrs. Cake gave Pinkie a great big hug. “First, I need you to know that I love you. You are a very precious pony to me, and I couldn’t imagine my life without you.” She pulled back and saw Pinkie’s questioning gaze, but the pink mare remained silent. “Second, I need you to know that there isn’t a thing in the world you could do to make me hate you. You might frustrate me, you might confuse me, but never can you make me hate you. Do you understand?”

Pinkie slowly nodded her head, her eyes wide, confused, and mystified.

“Now, I need to ask; did you like how Carrot and I treated you today? Don’t pretend you didn’t notice.”

Pinkie blushed. “Well… you played that game with me at breakfast, and Mr. Cake wanted to play at lunch with the peach stuff, so the twins would want to play. And you cleaned my face, and Mr. Cake did too. While you were gone, Mr. Cake made me want to play a lot with Pound and Pumpkin, and he was really huggy with me.”

“Tell me, would you like if we treated you like that all the time?”

Pinkie gulped. “I… what do you mean? What’s going on?”

Mrs. Cake smiled as warmly as she could. “You don’t need to hide or be afraid anymore, my little Pie. I know. I understand. Carrot and I both understand.”

“Understand what?”

“I know you’re up late every night, deary. You go into the twins’ room every night and stare at them.”

Pinkie’s pupils shrunk to pinpricks. “Oh no! Mrs. Cake, I’m not hurting them, I swear! I know it looks bad–”

Mrs. Cake gently shushed her ward. “It’s okay, little Pie. I know what you want.” She finally opened the box, reached inside, and pulled out a pink pacifier that was much larger than any pacifier Pinkie Pie had seen before.

Pinkie stared at it, jaw hanging, eyes wide. After a moment, she regained the use of her mouth. “Wha… what is it?”

“It’s a dinky, Pinkie.” Mrs. Cake giggled. “A dinky big enough for a filly about your size. And it can be your dinky, if you want it.”

Pinkie’s face flushed and her heart beat wildly.

“I saw you the night you tried one of Pumpkin’s dinkies. I didn’t understand at first, but I figured out what you want. No; I figured out what you are, and what I am. You are actually a little foal, and you haven’t been allowed to be that. And I am a mother, and I’ve wanted to be your mother for a long time. I just didn’t get it until I saw you being a foal with my own eyes. If this is what you’d like, my little Pie, it’s yours. Just be who you are and I will figure out what you need, like any mother needs to do for a foal.”

Pinkie stared at the pacifier a few more moments before her eyes filled with tears, and the tears streamed down her face. “I… M… M…”

“Go ahead, deary,” Mrs. Cake said, tears forming in her own eyes. “Remember what I told you; I love you, and could never, ever hate you.”

“M-M-Momma!” Pinkie Pie cried as she buried her face in Mrs. Cake’s – her mother’s – shoulder. “Momma! I want my Momma!”

“Go ahead,” Momma Cake said through her own tears, rubbing her daughter’s back. “Let it out. Momma’s here.” She placed the pacifier in Pinkie’s mouth, and her daughter cried around it.

“Momma!” Pinkie sobbed, muffled by her new dinky. Slowly her sobs became moans, and then her moans became whines until she only suckled. Momma Cake pulled Pinkie back and got a good look at her.

“There we are,” Momma Cake said, feeling her heart about to break in two. She sniffled. “That’s right. I’m your Momma, and will be so for as long as you need me to be.” She wiped Pinkie’s tears and tenderly ran a hoof over her mane. “You can be a foal for as long as you want, and however much you want.” She reached into the box, pulling out a bottle, a can of formula, and a diaper. “This is just to get started. I’m willing to do so much more for you, my precious Pie. I’ll feed you, I’ll give you baths, we’ll get you a crib and make your room a nursery, if you want any of that. All I want in return is for you to be happy.”

Pinkie gazed in wonderment at the simple objects. “Dey’re… Dey’re shized fer me,” she said around her dinky.

Momma Cake nodded. “Yes. You’re not alone, my little Dinky Pie. There are other foals just like you, with mommies and daddies that love them just as much as I love you. I found the store where they shop, and I brought these for you. That’s your dinky, and this is your bottle, and you have your milk, and these are yourdiapers.”

Pinkie’s eyes brimmed with tears again. “M-Momma…”

“Now, let’s get you snug in your brand new diapers.” Mamma Cake slowly lowered her daughter down onto the bed and unfolded the diaper. With care that came from practice, Momma Cake slid the padding under Pinkie’s bottom, tugging her thick and bouncy tail through the hole made for it. Momma Cake pulled the front up and over, securely taping the large diaper over most of Pinkie’s belly. She looked at her work and giggled at the only slightly brighter garment Pinkie now wore. “There, nice, safe, and snug. Do you like this? Do you want to always wear thick diapers around your tush?”

Pinkie sniffed, suckled, and nodded all at once. “Are yoo shure?” Pinkie asked with her eyes filled with both longing and fear. “Yoo’d change and c’een a gwown mare?”

“Of course not. I’d change and clean a big foal, which is exactly what you are.” Momma Cake leant down and gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek.

There was a knock at the doorway. “Can I come in now?” Mr. Cake said. Pinkie’s face turned red and she covered herself with her hooves.

“You may, honey. Your new daughter is ready”

Mr. Cake stepped inside and saw Pinkie cowering and hiding her face. “There’s no need to be ashamed, Pinkie Pie. I can see your diaper just fine, after all.”

Pinkie made a little whine, but slowly pulled her hooves away. Mr. Cake saw her big, tear filled eyes and heard as she sucked on her dinky to sooth herself.

Poppa Cake felt his heart swell. “There we are, my little Pie. We wouldn’t want to hide that beautiful face from the world, would we?” He bent down and gave her a kiss on the forehead, nuzzling her cheek afterwards. He stepped back to let Pinkie sit up.

She looked at each of her new parents in turn. “Momma… Poppa…” Pinkie gave the happiest smile any of the Cakes had ever seen. They sat on the bed, each on one of Pinkie’s sides, and hugged her tightly.

“You’re our little Pie, and we will always love you no matter what,” Poppa Cake said as he found himself crying.

“You’re our foal, and we are your parents,” Momma Cake affirmed before biting back a hiccup.

“I love you!” Pinkie Pie squealed, sobbing once more. “I love you both so much!”

And here come the feels. But apart from that, I've loved how Mrs. Cake slowly worked Pinkie into this throughout the whole story, not just pushing her into it. She let Pinkie figure this out of her own accord, never being too pushy.

n her mouth. She trudged by her twin’s bedroom and realized something. She poked her head inside to see her babies sleeping peacefully, nopony else there but them. Momma Cake checked on them, giving them a kiss each and a simple ‘sleep tight.’ She then went to her other baby’s room across the hall. She opened the door and smiled at the sight. She walked over to the crib and felt her heart about to burst

Her little Pie was sleeping soundly, splayed out on her belly, hugging the large, fuzzy pillow the top half of her body was laying on. The bottom half needed no such thing; her diaper was more than enough. Every couple of seconds, the sleeping mare would suckle her dinky, or wiggle her legs to feel that her diaper was still there to keep her safe. Momma Cake gave her little Pie’s diaper a poke. As expected, it was wet, but not enough to constitute a late night change.

The irony did not go unnoticed to Momma Cake as she watched her little Pie slumber. She didn’t feel like she wanted to take Pinkie’s place, to be sure, but she could watch any of her darlings for hours, simply because it filled her with joy. But she knew she’d have just as much time with them in the day.

Momma Cake sighed and thought about the strange difficulties she was facing. Her other babies were confused about such a big foal, and would no doubt remain confused for a while. And she still couldn’t keep up with Pinkie’s seemingly endless energy. Pinkie couldn’t be the foal that she was all the time, and it obviously frustrated her.

But for every challenge, there was a greater reward. Pound and Pumpkin much more easily listened to Pinkie, and Pinkie even seemed to be able to translate their own needs for the often confused parents. And that infinite energy was subdued, more focused, and Pinkie even seemed to make more sense somehow. And it was worth the wait, to know that when she got home or when the day’s work ended Momma or Poppa Cake would swaddle Pinkie, put her in a diaper, and let her know that they loved her in all the little ways that they could.

Momma Cake bent down over the crib’s gate and gave her little Pie a tender kiss on her cheek. “Sleep tight, my little Dinky Pie,” she whispered into her ear.

Pinkie cooed and smiled around her dinky. “Nigh’, nigh’, Momma…”

With that, Momma Cake continued through the night.

And all is well. And now for the final tally. Well, really this story is high-scoring already. Few grammar errors here and there, so that'll subtract from the final score but I loved the journey the characters take. Both Pinkie and Mrs. Cake, as this is a story about both of them. How they both figure out what they want, and what they need. And I do appriciete the lengths the author went to to show the loving and caring side of the adult foal community, something so many authors fail at and how he/she didn't just do cute for the sake of cute. So, final score? 9/10.

Comments ( 4 )

This doesn't look like the kind of story I'd enjoy, but I know effort and talent when I see it. They put thought into this, so I can respect that, at least.

Yeah, clearly a lot of time and care was put into this, and if it's not the kind of story you'd read that's fine. I'm just glad you accepted what this author did instead of downvoting it like some trolls I know. However, if it's a bad story you want, chances are what's next on my to review list pretty much qualifies. Snarky me might very well make a return.

Tear it a new butthole!

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