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“Okay. Okay. Okay. You can do this, Scoots.”
The silence of the stuffy room was heavy, weighing upon Scootaloo’s shoulders as she fingered a lock of violet hair from her face.
“Okay. Just… just need to relax. That’s the key, that’s all.” She spoke to herself soothingly, trying to remember everything Rainbow Dash had taught her about flying. “Have to relax.”
Scootaloo took a deep breath, steeling herself.
It was difficult enough, trying to focus in the dingy little room without her stunted wings buzzing angrily against her back. It was almost as if her very body were fighting against her for control, and it had held her back for long enough.
Today, she would fly.
Today, she would soar.
And then, all of Cloudsdale would see that she was just as good as everybody else – maybe even Rainbow Dash would spot her flying majestically through the air.
Just have to relax… Scootaloo’s mantra floated through her mind repeatedly, echoing over and over again as she closed her eyes and focused. Her muscles were still too tense – always too tense, too ready to prove herself.
HAVE to relax. Have to relax.
Scootaloo slowed her breathing, letting her shoulders sag a little as she concentrated all of her effort on slowly rotating her wings. Up and down, up and down, up and down, up and up and up and down, up and up and up and up and up!
“Dammit!” Scootaloo swore angrily as she grabbed her own small wings in frustration, trying to force them back down. She hated feeling like this; incapable of keeping her own wings in check long enough to even levitate properly. Incompetent.
She seethed, grinding her teeth in agitation as she stilled her wings. She’d begun gripping them so tightly that she could feel her own heartbeat rhythmically pumping through the small veins. Scootaloo sighed in defeat, slumping to the puffy white floor.
Useless.
She felt the hot sting of downfall lashing behind her eyes, but she fought them back and closed her eyes again, wrapping her thin arms around her legs in defiance. To fly properly, she had to relax. Scootaloo tried to find inner focus, some level of physical and emotional balance; there was always what Sweetie Belle had suggested…
I’d help you with it myself, but I think Applebloom is more into that kind of thing than me, Sweetie had said with a sly grin. But what did the unicorn even know about flight? Granted, some of her ‘relaxation techniques’ had been… less than standard, but at this point, Scootaloo was getting desperate.
Maybe…
Her hands slid softly down her bare knees, gently rubbing against herself as she released her tense grip. She would relax; technique was all she needed to work on, that had to be it. Scootaloo took a sharp breath inwards as her fingers brushed against her clit, and she almost backed away then and there. Instead, her inexperienced fingers slowly sidled upward and downward, tenderly dancing along her skin. She exhaled suddenly, realizing that she’d been holding her breath. Scootaloo shook her head a little, trying again to focus. Holding her breath wasn’t helping either.
Almost reluctantly, she slid a single finger slowly back down her belly, slithering downwards sensually. The ache in her neck from forcibly peering downward was growing almost as swiftly as the oddly needing ache between her thighs, and she quietly relaxed the muscles in her back until she was lying atop her wings. She stared with half-lidded eyes up at the ceiling, but she saw past it.
Scootaloo sighed again, although this time it was more in expectancy and relief.
She found that by massaging the tip of her clitoris between her fingers, it made the dampness between her legs thicken into a moist liquid, rhythmically coating her fingers as she oh-so-slowly slid a single finger in and out. In and out. In and out. Have to relax.
Scootaloo breathed more quickly as the time passed, her hips rising and falling with the motion of her fingers as she carefully pulled at her lower lip with her free hand. Gently bucking into the air, she pushed her body against her hand as yet another finger slipped inside with its comrade. She bit back a soft cry of rising ecstasy, nibbling at her bottom lip in excitement. Scootaloo vaguely thought that getting more excited probably wouldn’t help her to relax, but her heart pounded away regardless of her wishes. Just as she began to withdraw both fingers from inside, she hooked them both forcibly as her mind drifted to Rainbow Dash.
Her sharp intake of breath was quite audible this time as she orgasmed, climaxing in blissful ecstasy as the warmth rushed over her fingertips. Scootaloo’s hips shot into the air, and she moaned as the hot liquid poured down her leg. It had been her full intent to withdraw her fingers, and yet…
She could almost feel her heart in her throat as she pictured Rainbow Dash’s excellent physique, her stunning eyes and remarkable figure. Scootaloo envied her voluptuous curves and muscular tone, to the point that she’d practiced her own training regimen daily. Of course, that didn’t mean she had the incredible build that her idol did. Still, she noted that her own muscles weren’t too shabby, particularly her abdominal ones. Scootaloo watched her stomach curve lithely as she leaned against the ground and pushed her legs into the air, until her back ached and her legs dangled above her head.
The pressure and continued steamy thoughts of Dash only made her more excited, more eager to feel that overwhelming rush of pleasuring herself. Scootaloo bent further, until she was looking directly at her own slit. Her position left her feeling quite vulnerable, but she ignored the feeling and hurriedly stuffed three fingers at a time into herself, moaning in desire. She felt as if she’d been overcome with a fever, a fire underneath her skin that screamed for Rainbow Dash. She pumped into herself sharply, gasping as she did so.
Her awkward position, coupled with her necessitating but gentle thrusts into herself only made her breathing more ragged. Hot air, shoved straight from her lungs tickled as she rubbed in and out, in and out. For a split second, closing her eyes, Scootaloo could almost see Rainbow Dash overcome with the same desire and desperately lusty yearning that she felt, breathing heavily between her thighs.
Scootaloo came again, screaming in joy and need for her mentor, her idol, her Dash. Her mind felt thick and heavy, as if clouded by a comfortable fog which she was reluctant to leave. She dimly noted the thick, syrupy liquid pouring down her fingers and onto her chest, and she smoothly removed her fingers. They slid into her mouth, one after another as her eyes closed tighter and her smile widened. Scootaloo savored the alien taste, the warmth of the liquid as excess dribbled onto her chin.
“Rainbow Dash,” she sighed again through her fingers, much more quietly this time.
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One thing Sweetie Belle hadn’t warned Scootaloo about, although she certainly wasn’t going to forget now.
Masturbation in any prolonged position tends to make one’s limbs a bit sore, and by the time she was finished, Scootaloo’s legs shook violently in a way she hadn’t noticed before. Mostly because she was knuckle deep in her own pussy, which had become a little sore.
It was this, among a myriad of other details that Scootaloo took in as she lay on her back, staring forlornly up at the ceiling. A glance downward indicated that she was indeed still slightly wet, and the odd taste hadn’t come out of her mouth just yet. A pang of sorrow shot through her as she simply stared at herself, the full realization that she would never have Rainbow Dash to herself tugging painfully at her heart.
That, and she still couldn’t fly.
A quiet sob escaped her lips, but she quickly stifled it as she pushed herself to her feet. She wouldn’t cry about it; Rainbow Dash certainly wouldn’t cry about anything, and neither would she. Scootaloo tried to force away the thoughts weighing on her mind, and she nebulously wished for the mind-numbing fog to simply cloud her head again, if only so that she could lose herself in… well, herself. But that wasn’t going to get her anywhere, and she unhappily accepted it as she pushed open the closet door.
And bumped directly into Rainbow Dash.
“Aaagh!” Scootaloo yelped in surprise, dropping to her knees.
“Yep.” Dash said with a grin, crossing her cerulean arms across her quite bountiful chest. “I am definitely gonna keep calling you ‘Squirt’.”
Scootaloo’s face flushed in embarrassment, and her heart thudded against her ribcage with shocking ferocity.
“How… how long have you…?” Scootaloo stuttered, too ashamed at being caught in the act to look up at her idol. What must Rainbow even think of her…?
“Long enough.” Dash said simply, and when Scootaloo finally gathered enough courage to look upwards, she realized that the pegasus was extending a hand kindly to help her to her feet.
The heat in Scootaloo’s cheeks only burned more deeply as she accepted the hand up, before remembering that her hands were still quite wet. Her first instinct was to pull away from Rainbow as she stood, but much to her surprise, Dash lightly wrapped both hands around Scootaloo’s as she leaned forward. Her large magenta eyes reflected Scootaloo’s own, and she found herself holding her breath again in anticipation.
“... I also heard you calling out my name an awful lot.”
Scootaloo almost completely lost her composure on the spot, until Rainbow leaned in closer and whispered softly into her ear.
“I think... I want to hear you screaming my name more often.” Dash breathed with a sultry wink, and Scootaloo’s heart raced even faster as she grinned.
Dash started off, floating with ease into the air.
“… Well? You comin’, or what?”
Scootaloo laughed as she chased after her, wings buzzing heartily as she ran. So what if her wings were a little stunted? So what if she couldn’t fly yet? Today, it didn’t matter whether or not she could rise into the air.
Today, it didn’t matter to her if she could fly.
Today, her spirit soared.
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Author's Note
So, this is the part where I'm supposed to include something insightful and witty. The Author's Notes, where I display my incredible charm and intellect to all my faithful readers who have someway, someHOW managed to drag me into the miry unending bog of clop. The part where I convince everyone that I actually know what I'm doing.
...
Sorry. I've got nothing.
