Digby hung suspended by his creamy pink panties for more than a few hours. His unfortunate boner had throbbed mercilessly the entire time. At one time he overheard whispers from a couple who had spotted it. Fortunately it went no further. The dessert had crusted well around his head, particularly around his eyes, which remained concealed behind two custard tarts.
Closing time, and after the final customers exited the diner, Digby heard the front doors lock. He heard Mr Creampie's footsteps as he slowly attended to his end of night duties. Digby hung silently in dreadfully intoxicating anticipation, helplessly fearing what would happen next. But another hour passed. Mr Creampie continued to work around Digby. The smells of leftover food came and went around him, and then it dawned on Digby. He was leftovers. Eventually the boss finished his duties, and Digby heard him pull up a chair from a nearby table. He took a seat and just sat there for a further hour, chain smoking juicy blunts and watching oldworld sitcoms on the little tv in the corner. The smoke from the weed filled the room, causing Digby to produce muffled and pathetically high-pitched coughs, which were occasionally rebuked by with a sharp shush. Eventually the tv turned off. Mr Creampie left his seat, walked towards Digby, and blew his last drag into the fae's face. Digby squirmed and coughed. Mr Creampie chuckled before putting his joint out in a clump of Digby's cake crusted hair, singing his scalp a little.
"Little pig, little pig. What are we going to do with you?" The boss mused, while poking holes in the tart crust around Digby's eyes. Digby looked back at his tormentor with pleading eyes. "And what, little piggy, has happened to your little piglet?" All of a sudden the boss's hand was cupping and squeezing Digby's vulnerable boner. Digby was flooded with a wave of euphoric yearning, and let out an involuntary moan.
"Have you learnt your lesson Piggy?" Digby nodded frantically and let out a muffled affirmation. "Are you ready to apologise properly?" Another nod.
Mr Creampie pulled the crushed pastries from Digby's mouth until he could spit the rest out on his own.
"Well then?" The boss barked. Digby's mouth was dry in places, but he pulled himself together with a jolt at his boss's words.
"I'm so so s-sorry Mr Creampie! I should have double, no triple checked the cream was okay! It won't happen again, I promise! Please let me down!" Mr Creampie lit another joint and once again blew smoke in Digby's face.
"Not bad. But lets try that again. This time, call me by my full name. And call me master, not mister. Oh, and how about you make some proper pig noises?" The request hung in the air. Digby couldn't bring himself to do it. He dropped his eyes and made himself small. "No? Well that's okay. I think you're employment has run its course anyway. You'll have to find somewhere else to live as well of course. You can clear out tonight, and look for something new in the morning". Mr Creampie stated the reality plainly. If Digby didn't play nice, he was going in the trash. The boss took another long drag. Digby took a deep breath.
"I'm sorry Master Come-come Creampie, oink oink. I should have quadruple checked the cream was okay, oink. I promise it won't ever ever happen ever again! Please, oink. Pretty please let me down oink oink o-" SPLAT! Mr Creampie cut Digby free from his panties with a pair of scissors. Dropping poor Digby flat onto his face into a small paddling pool filled to the brim with a weeks worth of leftover desserts and ingredients.
Digby wallowed until he was face up, then pushed his face through patches of yogurt, flour, chocolate pudding and cream before finally plopping his head out from the thick gunge. And he could go no further. The sucking blob kept him stuck on his back with his face and poor little piglet exposed. Mr Creampie flicked the butt of his cigarette and Digby's dick.
"Last chance Piggy. Beg right this time and I'll give you a treat. Fuck it up, and you'll be sleeping ass-up in a dumpster tonight!"