Short leash
The sound of crickets chirping echoed faintly in Spike’s ears as his mind roughly shifted back into transition, trying to gather little pieces of what sense he had to form a real comprehensive thought. Ten seconds in his dazed attempt, it proved to be a task too difficult to manage at his current state.
Nothing in mind could explain as to why his head was pounding, or why his cheeks were sore as all heck. He could feel a cold wet cloth resting on his forehead.
The tired teen stitched what little thoughts he could, groaning as the words processed through, “Did I get a head injury on my way home?”
Everything was too fuzzy in his head to really relay how long he was out. Nor did he care at the moment due to the swelling pain throbbing in his brain. The pain got worse by the passing seconds as he shifted closer back into consciousness.
It was as if someone whacked him from behind with a shovel, practically shattering thousands of pieces of glass inside him. Getting up definitely wasn't an option for him at the moment, nor at least for another seven hours. Laying down was all he could do without causing, even more, pain to surge through. Even twitching his fingers proved to be problematic.
Though on the bright side, he was laid down on something surprisingly soft.
The blankets scuffed smoothly on top of his semi-damp, bare skin. The cushioning underneath gave a rather cloud-like feel; it was almost blissful enough to make up for the hammering pulses in his head.
Whatever was placed under his head was a completely different story. The firm, yet still very soft feeling against the back of his head was beyond the comprehension of words. He couldn’t compose them even if he wanted to; everything was still too hazy to understand where he was. What he did know as a probable fact was that it was probably the most comfortable thing he ever had his head rest on.
“This is nice,” Spike whispered as he snuggled deeper into the warm blanket. He shifted to his side so that his cheek now rest on top of the strange pillow underneath his head.
Its smooth, soft surface brushed gently against his cheeks, which previously burned in agonizing pain seconds ago, felt the healing kisses of its warmth transfer to his skin.
“So silky...” Spike moaned as he placed one hand on top of the pillow, rubbing it tenderly.
“Spike?” a faint voice called into his ear.
He murmured, not taking the motherly sound to mind. He didn't have time to concern himself about the voice speaking into his ear, all that mattered was the pillow under him.
“Spike?” the voice called again.
He groaned. “What is it?”
“You need to get up now, Spike,” it spoke again. “You've been out long enough.”
“Five more minutes,” the small teen grumbled, snuggling harder against the pillow. “Please….”
“But you need to get up now Spike, your family must be worried sick,” the voice insisted, rocking his shoulders.
“Eh… let them worry,” Spike shifted onto his other side, letting his other cheek have its turn. “I want to stay like this for a while longer.”
“Oh, you're such a child.”
“I like it here.” Spike muffled through his lips. He inhaled deeply, taking a good whiff of the scent in the air, “It smells wonderful.”
“You’re weird.” the voice replied. “If you don't get up soon, I might just do something to your body.”
“Like what?” Spike mentally rolled his eyes, “I said it once and I'll say it again, I'm not getting up.”
The voice giggled, “Do you really want to know, silly billy?”
“Whatever.” he groaned, “Do what you want, I don't care.”
“Is that so?” the voice giggled louder. “Alrighty, if you say so.”
‘Hmm.’ Spike paused ‘Where have I heard that giggled before?’
“That’s all I needed to hear.” the voice finished with a malicious, hyper laugh with its signature snorts at the end.
“Wait.” Spike popped open his left eye, “I definitely know that laugh...” He jerked his peripheral vision upward to meet two round, baby blue eyes reflecting his gaze.
Spike took note of his surroundings as his eyes slowly adjusted past the hazy form of the girl above him. To his left, the blurry outline of balloons appeared near his face, the lower ends of the rough outline encompassing her figure.
The concerning part of the blur, other than the fact that it was more than likely Pinkie, was where his head rested in the first pace.
He tried to squint his eyes for a better picture, and with some minor kicks to his brain, it became clear how close the outline was from his face, perhaps by about a foot. However, the balloons were much closer to his face than just a foot... which evidently included Pinkie.
“Comfy?” the older teen smiled, ruffling Spike’s hair. “You seemed really happy just a few minutes ago.”
Still, in a daze, Spike had to do a double-take concerning his surroundings.
One, her special balloon shirt was directly next to his face.
Two, her face was dangerously close to his, so much so that he could smell the radiating sweetness from her.
Three, her legs were nowhere in sight in his current line of vision.
Four, again, her balloon shirt, and what lay underneath, was parallel to the top of his head.
“Uhh….” He managed to cracks out of his throat, staring back at the baker above him.
“So Spike.“ she winked, her nails scratching his scalp lightly, “How do you like your lap pillow? You seemed very fond of them.”
Despite the surging pain, the gears in Spike’s brain finally had reached its bare minimum capacitance requirement. One tooth clanked against the other's rusted teeth generating his cognition at a steady pace. Turning round and round, his brain reaching limited operation capability.
“Pi-p-p-p-p-p-” he stuttered, silenced by her finger.
“That’s right, Spikey Wikey, it’s me!” She giggled as she held her finger firmly against the small teen’s lips.
“W-w-what are you doing here?!” he muffled through her finger, only for his splitting headache to force its way through mid-sentence.
He hissed in agony, shutting both eyes in pain as he suddenly twisted his head to the side, causing the wet rag to slip off his forehead.
“Shh…” Pinkie cooed, placing his head comfortably on her lap again, “you can't be overexerting yourself with a boo-boo like that on your head, silly.”
Spike let out a sharp stream of air escape from his lips, “Err…What happened to me,” he moaned through his teeth. “How did I get here?”
“Well, that's easy to explain, Spikey.” Pinkie smiled while she began to rub small circles on the sides of his forehead.
Spike’s body jerked to the slight pain of the sudden physical contact. However, unable to really jump off the couch anyways, he allowed his body to ease. Not long into it, his limbs fell limp, as did most of the portions of his brain.
“I brought you here of course,” After a few sighs of pleasure made its way out of the boy’s mouth, she answered his unasked question. “You seemed really ‘down in the dirt’, so I decided to clean you up.”
“Ohh…okay, but what happened?” Spike mumbled, much caring less about the answer, drifting further into the head message.
“Hmm...“ Pinkie pondered, scrunching her lips, “Well that's a good question, that's something I was wondering myself.”
She moved her attention further around Spike’s head
“Hmm… so you don't know?” Spike cocked his head slightly.
Though the striking pain in his head told him otherwise.
“Ow-ow-ow!” he hissed, flopping back into Pinkie's lap.
“See! What did I tell ya, you don't need to be overexerting yourself right now, you’re in bad shape as it is. You might hurt yourself even more if you don't take it easy,” Pinkie said concernedly as she patted his chest with some force. “Just let me take care of you until you’re better, alrighty!?”
“Okay, okay I'll listen this time,” Spike replied as he tried to rub his temple to relieve the pain.
“Spike!” The baker yelped. The boy ignored her protests, focusing more on the pounding thunder crashing in his skull.
“What?” Spike moaned, half-ignoring her due to the pain.
“SEE! What did I just tell you?” She removed his hands away from his head by the wrists, any protests he might have had squashed as her hands quickly slipped onto the surging areas. “I told ya to let me take care of you, silly.”
“Ohhh....” the young teen hummed as he sunk deeper in her lap.
“See, now isn’t that better?”
As much as he wanted to give a proper verbal response to the baker, most, if not all, of his brain cells, were set straight into hibernation mode, endearing his motor functions even less serviceable compared to the surging pain just moments ago. Instead, he was able to show his bliss more than enough through the pleasure molded on his face.
Pinkie giggled, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Although ‘yes’ would be a normal response to give this sensation in normal cases, this feeling was far way from normal, however. His right foot involuntarily twitched violently under the sheets as his mind and much of his body became dough in her hands.
Though thought processes ceased to compute under the boy’s baked ‘brain’ if it could be called that at this point, only four comprehensive words were able to echo around his mushy skull. Though Pinkie didn’t have to be a mind reader to interpret what Spike was thinking, his facial expressions alone were more than enough to express his gratitude, or how mushed up his brain was at the moment.
‘This feels so… Good!’ Spike murmured in his head. He shifted his head around her lap, purely faded into bliss by her hands, grinding the edges of his cheeks against the palm of her hands, merely enjoying the softness of her hands pressing further on his face.
Even though he couldn’t spill out any set of syllables to a comprehensive request, Pinkie knew exactly what he was asking for. She slipped her flats palms along the lines of the boy’s jaw, then cupped the sides of his face.
Pinkie couldn’t help but crack into laughter, “Aren’t you a tasty bowl of frosting,” she said between giggles as she mushed his cheeks in her hands. “I could just lick you all over.”
As much as those words would have made him blush, his brain was in no condition to take in or process any words she said. Just as long as her hands were moving on some part his skin, he didn’t care what she said.
Nevertheless, he still gave a response to her, somewhat.
“Yeah…” he mumbled out, not really meaning it as a real response. It was just what came to mind in regards to the pleasure he was feeling. Continuing further in deep into the softness, his right foot twitched even faster to a more vibrant speed.
Similar to how Spike was enjoying his special treatment, if not spot on, Pinkie too received her rather rewarding reactions from the teen on her lap. His blissful face, the adorable murmur that cracked through his lips, and most of all, the sweet sound of his moans as she pressed firmly against his face.
How much she wished she could listen to that sound of his over and over again. Surely if she knew how adorable his moans were, she would have had something to record this session for later enjoyment purposes.
“Hmmm….” Pinkie hummed to herself.
She glanced at his blissful face, easing the pressure off his cheek, yet kept somewhat of a firm grip. She tilted Spike’s head slightly to its right side, then did the same to his left, taking excessive time to capture the full view of how happy he truly was.
The results were rather more than satisfying enough to outdo what she expected. To really narrow it down to a single word was challenging in and of itself without further inspection. Though there was one word that the baker would use at this point.
‘Frosting.’ she mouthed past her lips.
Her smile slowly switched from her previous cheerfulness, one that is usually considered the most contagious face of joy, to something more malicious. If Spike were to open his eyes, or even crack a glance at Pinkie, her lap would be the last place he would want to be.
However, the field of the atmosphere had changed more than enough to set a certain tension in Spike’s chest, along with other parts of his person. Namely the ones that felt, oddly enough in such a comforting position, the most to be endangered.
Senses in the deep part of his brain were telling open his eyes, but those parts were too deep to correlate with any functional action. Spike remained in his state of bliss, enjoying every second of softness.
Sadly, he felt her soft hand lift away from his skin. Not too long after the retreat of her delicate fingers, he could feel his hammering headache creep its way back to his forehead. He inhaled several short breaths, near the point of tearing, as the pain started to crack it way back through his skull.
A part of him wanted to force out a loud whimper, begging her to continue on forward. In the midst of opening his lips, there was a wet, pasty, soft slab laid across his right cheek. It wasn’t cool as the rag on his head, nor had the texture. The slab felt like a long, continuous strand of some kind of wet marshmallow, going along his cheekbone, further down to his jaw to the end of his chin and ended there.
Spike felt the same paste run from his left cheek down to where the trail ended on his other side. He could quite put his finger on what it was, but it seemed familiar.
However, this familiarity wasn’t one with a pleasant note, nor any sort of comfort for him. Sure, the scent was sweet and pleasant to his nose. The softness of said paste on his skin wasn't discomforting. Nothing was overly wrong with the paste as far as he could tell, but something was definitely off about it.
His curiosity grew, matching his detection of ill will, opening his mouth to ask Pinkie as to what it was that she was so eager to put on his face. Though before he had the chance to ask, he felt a smooth, plastic nozzle touch the top of his tongue. A slight force of the paste slowly forces its way into the cavity of his mouth. It didn’t force in enough to make him gag, instead, it steadily filling his mouth before comfortably stopping when it was about halfway.
The taste of the paste, on the other hand, was a different story. It finally started to send small jolts of energy back into Spike’s thought processes, but his head was still too much in a haze to grasp a full conclusive thought to act upon. Though there was a small spark of instinct in him trying to tell him something important.
A faint nudge in his head pleaded that where he was currently was resting at, or rather whom, wasn’t the best place to do so. But as it was said, it was faint.
Spike mussled out some more brain power, enabling a strain of pain in the process, to creak open his eyelids that were rusted shut just moments ago. The sight before him, pertaining to about everything that was in visible range, made it so that he wished his eyelids really were rusted shut.
More or less.
Above his nose was the nozzle that was squirting out the unknown substance that has been made apparent. The soft paste itself wasn’t exactly the most exciting either. The pain that Spike had felt just moments ago quickly diminished itself out of his head completely and in its place, or the new location, was a deep sinking feeling in his stomach.
The nozzle continued to squirt the paste on top of his nose as the sinking feeling got deeper and deeper by the amount of the purple substance covered more of his nose further down to his face.
“Fo… fo.. Fo. fro...” Spike mustered, mushing the substance in his mouth further into his mouth. He took his eyes off the nozzle and directed them to the girl above him, hoping for some kind of simple explanation that wasn’t going in the direction that he thought it was going. Unfortunately, the answer to that, drawn clear as day on the teen girl in question’s face, told him it was far worse than he thought.
Above the smaller teen was the same girl physically, but with a few different details. One that was really noticeable was her puffy pink hair had straightened with some hues of her bright color having darkened. Though that wasn’t the most shocking, not by a long shot. Her normal calming, baby blue eyes had changed not only in hue, a darker tone, no less but also in the dilation of her pupils. He wasn’t sure how, but the size seemed to be slightly inhuman. Adding more to the anxiety, those needle-sized windows clearly showed something even more unsettling than the unusual hairstyle.
“Lust” was all he could read in those small, millimeter-wide circles.
“And a little more frosting on the top.” Pinkie soothed, adding a large pile of frosting running down from Spike’s forehead to his nose. “Looking tastier already.”
“Ta-thy!?” Spike muffled, spitting out a little frosting in between syllables. He could now more than ever hear exactly what his head had been telling him, he needed to get 'OUT OF THERE NOW'. Too bad for him, the action wasn’t translating well enough to execute, period.
“That’s right, Spikey.” Pinkie said as she brushed his hair between her fingers with a free hand. She leaned his head down so that his eyes were directly in line with hers.
She leans down lower to his, and to his surprise, takes a long lick of the frosty from his right cheek, trailing dangerously close to his lips, leaving a patch of his skin exposed. After getting a good amount of it, she railed back the frosting into her mouth, taking it all in one gulp, moaning at its sweetness. She then leaned over his eye
“Tasty,” she said, blowing a sharp gust of air into his ear, causing Spike heart to skip several beats.
“Pinkie!” Spike flustered, the exposed skin in the patch of frosting turning a bright red as he attempted to cover it with his left hand.
Attempted, as in it didn’t really do much to hide it.
Try as he might, his hand wasn’t coming up to cover his licked skin. It felt like his arm was wrapped behind his back, connected with his other arm. This quickly became apparent that there was something holding his arms behind his back, restraining arm movement. Startled, he tried to jerk his arms in opposing directions, with fruitless results in his attempts to separate them.
He returned his line of vision back to the baker above him, “Are my arm tied behind my bac-” he asked, only to be interrupted by the nozzle pumping, even more, frosting into his mouth.
“No silly.” Pinkie smiled, squeezing the frosting bag tighter, filling Spike’s inner mouth with frosting,“You’re handcuffed.”
“QU-At” Spike muffed again, as the frosting continue to be squeezed overflowing his mouth. At that point, he was about gag all the frosting all over the floor.
“There we go!” Pinkie cheered, setting the frosting bag at her side. “Enough for two!”
‘Two?! What is that supposed to mean?!' Spike thought as he felt both of Pinkie’s hands grab hold of his head. One on the top of his forehead, and the other at his lower jaw. Without warning, he could feel his mouth jerk wider and a wet, mass of muscle entered his mouth.
His body froze again, he felt the mass move its way along the walls of his inner right cheek, in and out, taking mouthfuls of the frosting and coming back for more. It was getting to all the parts of his cheek where there was frosting lingering and then sweeping back again to leave behind a glaze.
Being frozen meant that he no had control of his body, either if he wanted to fling his head around or even blink. In the case of blinking, it was something that was totally out of the question. Right near his eyes were Pinkie’s, staring back at him as she continued to ‘clean’ the frosting from his mouth. He couldn’t tell if was the shock or the look Pinkie had on or the frosting, one thing was for sure, he couldn’t look away from her eyes. Nor did she with his.
She did not blink, shift her eyes, or anything that meant looking past him. She just wanted to stare at him right in the eyes, capturing every ounce of reaction in his eyes. She wanted to see it all in his eyes; all the candy in the world wouldn’t matter to her right now. She was in the midst of eating out the best thing sweets could never hold flavor over.
Sadly, for her, the frosting was eaten up faster than anticipated. As much as she wanted to continue longer, there wasn’t enough frosting to follow. Finishing off Spike’s mouth Pinkie move forth to the rest of the frosting on his face.
‘What the heck is going on around here?'
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(Meanwhile, in Reality)
“Fwaa, what a day!” Gilda sighed, exiting a bathroom with a towel resting on her shoulders. She made her way down the hall towards the kitchen where she went to the fridge and grabbed a cold bottle of water. Twisting off the top, she took reasonably large gulps from the bottle, a little stream of water escaping along the sides of her mouth. After a few crunches of the plastic bottle, it was soon empty of its contents. Gilda then removed the plastic bottle from her lips with a satisfying pop, wiping the excess water from her lips as she tossed the semi-crushed battle to a nearby bin. However, instead of hitting it inside the bin the bottle rebounded off the rim and onto the floor.
Gilda muttered under her breath as she approached to retrieve the bottle, but before she could bend down to pick it up. She was halted by the sound of small paws scurrying against the floor heading in her direction, or more specifically, the empty bottle.
A pup a bit bigger than a chihuahua pounced on the empty bottle, playfully gnawing on the plastic as it rolled around the floor. The sight was more than enough to put a smile on Gilda.
“Well, aren't you happy?” Gilda laughed. She bent down to the pup and pet it behind the ears. The pup drops the bottle in response and hums under its master’s finger, “You had me worried today, you know. You’re lucky that the neighbor called me today before something happened to you,” she continued to scratch down the dog fur moving downward to its belly. “You know you’re not supposed to be running around the neighborhood alone, you little dweeb,” she laughed.
The pup, on the other hand, was panting with pleasure as its right hind back leg twitched violently.
“Now then,” she said, raising her hand off the pup and walking towards the living room. “Let’s go get the stray that I found today.”
The word stray rings in the dog’s ear like a bell. It quickly got back on all fours and ran beside its master, eager to see whom she had brought with her. Was he or she a new friend, were they going to stay here, were they bigger than himself. As long as it wasn’t a cat, then he was fine with it.
“Well Spike,” Gilda paused in her tracks. She gestured towards a couch in front of her to what appeared to be a lump under some sheets, “here he is.”
The pup, Spike jumped onto the cushion of the couch and made his way to said lump. He tugged on the sheets, excited to meet his new potential friend. This, potential, canine may have been way bigger than he was, but having a big brother wasn’t a bad thing to have. However, a set of hands pulled the pup away before he could manage to pull off the sheet.
“Easy there, boy,” Gilda said. “He’s asleep right now, we don’t want to wake him up just yet,” Spike the pup winned then wiggled side to side in his master’s arms. “He’s been having... a rough day and couldn’t go home today. He is going to be staying here till he’s able to get back on his feet before I can take him to his home.”
The pup continued to squirm in Gilda’s arms, trying his best to break free and find out who this new one was. He was just too curious to let it go.
“Okay okay, I get it.” Gilda rolled her eyes. She bends down and let the small energetic dog out of her arms onto the floor. “I’ll show him to you.”
Spike ran around in circles with jumping in the air, barking in excitement all the while. He was finally going to meet a new friend. The last friend he made was such a long time ago. One day ago, to be exact.
“Shhh.” Gilda hushed. “We don’t want to wake him up, remember?”
The pup stopped in place and quickly closed his muzzle, hushing himself with both paws as he sat on his hind legs.
“Good boy,” Gilda smiled. She pinched the top of the sheets and slowly lifted it. The pups tried its best to hold its excitement, however, the same could not be said about the little puddle he was making under himself.
“Here he is, Spike,” the athletic teen smiled, pulling down the sheet to reveal the face. “This is my friend.”
The pup gave a silent bark of glee as he spun around in place. After five spins, he quickly made his way to the side of the couch to see the new dog his master brought. Though, the one under the sheet wasn’t a dog, per say. Instead, the one under the sheet was human, a human boy at that. The dog cocked his head to the side, confused. His master had never brought anyone of her kind before. There was the times when one human would bring a box that contained a circle that could be broken into triangles, but other than that and the one human that leaves paper rectangles, they never came to the door unless it was a box.
This one was different though. The hair on their head was green, kind of like his own, the same could be said about his shirt. He definitely had the scent of a male on him. Again, she never brought anyone home with her, let alone one of the opposite sex. Is it possibly the he is master’s mate?
The pup glanced at his master, curious as to what was the relation she had with him.
“Spike, this is a friend of mine,” Gilda gestured to the young teen on the couch. “His name is Spike, too.”
The pup cocked his head again side, thinking to himself for a moment before he barked excitedly. Though the pup thought it was strange that a human would have a name such as that, same as his strangely, but hey, as long as he wasn’t a cat, he was fine with it.
Gilda pets the dog behind his ears, causing him to thump his leg repeatedly on the floor.
“Let’s just say that something happened before I got here and he didn’t quite tell me where he lived.” she glanced at the bandage wrapped around the younger teen’s head. “But he’s okay. He’ll have a major headache when he wakes up and probably won’t walk right for a while. The swelling on his head and eye would probably be there for a whil-” she looks down to the dog who wore a rather suspicious expression on his muzzle.
“Hey, I know what it seems, but I didn’t beat this guy up,” she looked back at the beaten boy on the couch. “Spike?”
For whatever reason, the boy's breathing started to increase intensely. Sweat started to run down his skin along the sides of his face. Little droplets of his tears ran down his cheeks along with mutters of struggle under his breath.
“Oh shoot, Spike!” Gilda yelped as she lunged forward for the boy, carefully creasing his head in her hands. “Uh… What’s wrong? Are you okay?... Wait, of course, you’re not okay.”
Spike started to struggle within the sheets as he let out moans as he kicked. Gilda tried her best to comfort the poor boy by holding his head closer to her chest.
“Shh-shhh,” the athlete cooed as she rocked his head in her arms, making it quite clear that she didn’t know as to what she was supposed to do. “It’s going to be okay.”
However, the moans that the bandaged boy was letting out didn’t help her any. Each one seemed to be lower, then higher, and lower again. Along with the contribution of the unstable breathing pattern, it would seem to her that he was going through an intense amount of pain. The sweat had steadily streamed its way around his collar again, along with a rather strange musk. However, his scent didn’t matter to her at the moment. Spike was in pain at the moment, and she had to do something to help.
“Spike, get some ice, quick!” Gilda called out.
The small canine took a second before realizing that she was referring to him and gave a bark in reply before he ran to the kitchen.
The anxious teen turned her attention back to the boy in her arms. The breathing seemed to deepen dangerously along with its unsteadiness. Not seeing any other choice in the matter, she had to make him as comfortable as possible. She sat on the couch and set the boy's head on her lap.
She lifted her reluctant hands over his head, hovering for a moment before she rubbed the sides with the palms of her hands. “Come on, stay with me here! Stay with me!”
Taps of paws drew her attention her dog entering the room along with the bag of ice in his muzzle. The pup jumped to the cushion of the couch and presented the bag to his master. She snatched the bag from the dog's jaw and placed it on the burning teen’s head. The redness of the teen’s face was clear enough that he needed air flowing, and he needed it there and then.
“He’s burning up!” she said, beyond worried. Taking the sheets in hand, she tore the cloth away from the boy to free his body. However, his body wasn’t the only thing that was free. More specifically, in between his legs.
Gilda blinked, recirculating her thoughts as she looked at the boy’s half-covered face and back to the bulge in his boxers. Hesitant, she lifted her right hand with the ice pack off the rest of the boy’s face. The water left by the condensation of the bag drizzled down around his twitching, pleasured grin. A low growl escaped her teeth as she set the bag of ice back over his face. So many things were going through her mind before she had to bring him to her house as it did, but now it was approaching its boiling point. Though two very reasonable alterations for this situation did come to mind.
One, she probably shouldn’t have taken his pants off to the wash.
Second, it might’ve been better if she had just left him at the side of a hospital.
She sighed, muttering under her breath as she laid back the sheet over the boy’s body. She pinched her eyebrows together, relieving the pressure on her forehead and the oncoming awkwardness... though the ‘tent’ becoming more apparent made it even more awkward.
“What am I going to do with a dweeb like you?” she groaned as she laid back on the couch. Between her fingers, the teen glanced at the young boy on her lap, reading the expression on his face.
“No more, please,” he muttered under his breath. However, the smile on his face clearly said otherwise.
Gilda’s left eye twitched, as well as her fingers that held the bag. She picked up the ice bag away from his head and set it firmly onto his groin. This caused the boy to twitch wildly as he grabbed tighter onto the cushion of the couch, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden change of temperature. But of course, that didn’t diminish the smile on his face.
“You perverted dweeb,” Gilda growled as she pressed harder with the ice pack.
To the side, Spike the pup, wide-eyed, watched his master mangle the bag into the human boy’s middle region, shocked. Muzzle agape as he switched glances between his master and the master’s male companion, having difficulty deciphering if he was pleased or tortured. The canine decided that it was probably better if he turns in for an early nap.
He hopped off the couch and made his way quickly to the doorway without another bark. Before he exited, he took a glance behind with one thought in mind.
‘Master’s mate is so screwed.’
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I love you man Keep up your work ill always be here to read and enjoy :3
8124435
just updated
8130683
Thanks, man, I hope you enjoyed the dream transition.
So glad that this story got an undated I was beginning to worry that it wasn't going to continue. I have a lot of stories on my book shelf that are listed as incomplete and they just sit there. I am so glad you have turned your attention back to this story. Looking forward to more chapters to come.
Great job, and I loved Spike's wake up call
8130794
He's not awake just yet.
Wow. Wet dreams of, Pinkie, and awkward boners in front of Gilda!
LOVE IT! Love everything about this chapter. Even the dog was enjoyable.
Spike x Pinkie is so awesom.
8131049
yeah, if you haven't guessed it yet the dog is the representation of Spike in the EG except he is Gilda's dog.
Awesome. Keep this story going.
8131095 No. I got that. His thoughts are still fun though.
That dog is very smart.
Spike is screwed. Thank goodness he didn't fondle Gilda. Not that she wouldn't have liked it... maybe. 
see you in january
Praise the sun!!
P.S. God damn it, now you've gone and made me want a Spike-x-Pinkie Pie story.
finally^^ now pls keep it somewhat steady with the updates ;)
8132605 i want this to ship, age difference be damned
Yes please!!! More Kinkamena!!! Top notch chapters here!!
8134197 The age difference makes it even better.
Yandere-Pinkie would be fabulous. We'll just have to wait and see for what Geoice does next. At least we're past the blue-balling phase....hopefully....?
Still, I prefer individual stories pairing Spike up with one girl at a time. His dream WOULD be an awesome template for A.U. Spike x Pinkie story.
What kind of pup?