Sweetie-Do-Well and the Curse of the Magical Costume!

“Does your sister know you’re here?” Twilight cocked her head. The desk behind her was cluttered with scribbled notes and several stacks of books, and the curtains behind them had been drawn. Slivers of the summer sun peeked through, barely illuminating the upstairs study. Sweetie Belle thought it looked kind of gloomy. And smelled kind of dusty.

“Yep!” Sweetie beamed. Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Well, no. Kind of? I mean, she gave me the idea...”

Twilight rolled her eyes, and Sweetie’s grin fell. Between the two lay a neatly folded purple unitard next to a darker cape, hood and wide-brimmed hat. “Magic isn’t a toy, Sweetie Belle. It’s a gift that needs to be respected. I can’t just dole out enchantments for you every time you and your friends want to play dress-up.”

“Superheroes.” Sweetie Belle muttered. She wanted to tell Twilight that she wasn’t ‘playing’ anything - a crimefighting cutie mark certainly wasn’t kid stuff - but she knew how these things went. She’d heard the lectures about Using Your Magic Responsibly before, and no one was more guilty of repeating them than Twilight. The little unicorn frowned, staring at the costume before her.

“Besides, you have a fine costume already.” Twilight turned, levitating her quill out of its well and scratching the parchment once more. “I spoke to Rarity the other day, she was so happy to refit it for you.”

Sweetie’s frown grew, her gaze drifting lower. She had actually asked Rarity to help her refit the old Mare-Do-Well costume. Sweetie Belle had sat at the sewing machine for only a few stressful minutes. Each time her hoof twitched towards the fabric, Rarity had three sentences of panicked critique into her ear. For the sake of both of their nerves, Rarity gingerly nudged her aside. The little unicorn did her best to follow her sister’s technique, but she barely explained anything she was doing. After a good couple of hours, Sweetie Belle had a wonderful new costume, a sister who was very pleased with herself, and the all-too-familiar feeling of being completely unable to do anything herself.

“Yeah. It’s just that-” Sweetie paused. The sound of Twilight’s scribbling filled the silence between them. Letting out a huff through her nostrils, she grabbed the hat between her teeth and slung it into the saddlebags beside her. “Never mind. I can’t even do any dumb magic myself. I’d probably be a lousy superhero anyway.”

That seemed to get Twilight’s attention. Her quill dropped neatly into its well, and Twilight turned, an awkward impression of a reassuring smile on her face. “Oh, Sweetie Belle, I’m sure that’s not true.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Sweetie shuffled her hooves, still staring at the floorboards. “You’re amazing with magic and stuff. I can barely lift stuff up, let alone do...I don’t know. Useful things.”

“Sweetie Belle, don’t be so down on yourself. Magic is tricky, it takes some time before it begins to really manifest itself. Just because you don’t have the hang of it right now doesn’t mean you - oh my gosh!” Twilight suddenly perked up, startling Sweetie. Quickly trotting over to one of the many shelves that lined the walls, Twilight began scanning the various spines. “Just like The Sentry! You know who The Sentry is, right? From the Fantastic Fillies?”

“Um. No?” Sweetie tried her best to sound interested, but a twinge of irritation couldn’t help working its way into her voice. Twilight’s ears drooped.

“Wow. Really? They were everywhere when I was a - ugh, never mind.” Twilight shook her head, and lit up her horn. A neat stack of thin comic books lifted themselves from the shelves, hovering alongside Twilight as she walked back to Sweetie Belle. Picking out a few, Twilight spread them on the floor in front of her. The Sentry - as proclaimed by the cheesy, overbearing captions on the covers - was a masked unicorn wearing a bright yellow skintight suit. Covering her cutie mark was a black emblem shaped like two F’s, and depending on the cover she was either extremely smug or extremely alarmed.

Sweetie Belle tried to summon up some polite compliment that didn’t mention her ridiculous yellow suit, how big the artist drew her eyes, or how old the issues smelled. She looked back up at Twilight with a nervous smile.

“The Sentry was one of the coolest unicorn heroes out there.” Twilight began proudly. “She came from a family of powerful sorcerers, but she was never very good at magic herself. Her family tried to be understanding, but she hated herself for it. Eventually, she ran away and joined the Royal Guard, attempting to make something of herself and not simply live up to her family name.”

“...You think I should join the Royal Guard?”

“No!” Twilight jumped, then took a deep breath. “Er, no. The thing is, during her combat training, The Sentry discovered her hidden potential - she was able to heighten her senses beyond that of any normal pony! She was my hero when I was growing up! All the other Fantastic Fillies had things like super strength and magical bolts but the Sentry relied on information and planning. Her eyes were like magnifying glasses! She could hear a conversation on the other side of the city! In one issue, she-”

Sweetie Belle had never seen Twilight so excited. She really wished she could do something other than smile with uncertainty. Like leave. Twilight’s story stumbled into mumbling as Sweetie could only stare at her, wide eyed. Leaving Twilight and that growing look of disappointment on her face sounded like a great idea.

“So, yeah.” Twilight said, coughing. “ I mean, she’s pretty cool.” The remains of Twilight’s emphatic gaze fell to the floor, her horn shimmering as the sprawled issues collected themselves into a neat pile. “Anyway. With The Sentry, magic only showed itself when she needed it. That’s how it is for a lot of young unicorns.”

Sweetie was still less than encouraged. “That’s how it was for me, too.” Twilight added with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess.” Sweetie admitted. “I just...I don’t know. It’d be nice to know how it feels, even if just for a little while.”

The little unicorn was still staring into the fine, silky fibers of the folded unitard when Twilight said it.

“Maybe…” She trailed off. Sweetie Belle lifted her head as a slight grin crossed Twilight’s face. The older unicorn’s tail began to swish slightly, as she lifted a hoof to her face. “Maybe I can make that costume something special after all, Sweetie Belle.”

“Really?” Sweetie squeaked, her smile big and wide. Twilight giggled as the young unicorn jumped for joy, thanking her over and over again. Sweetie Belle was distantly aware that Twilight was trying to talk, but she too busy to pay attention to that.

Her mind raced. She was going to be a superhero. All those plans she’s drafted up in her room ever since the Mare-do-Well incident a month ago were finally going to be put to use. The designs for an elaborate lair and a series of gadgets that she’d scribbled on drafting paper stolen from her sister were finally going to escape fantasy. She was going to be a superhero.

What could Twilight give her? Twilight was the most powerful spellcaster in all of Equestria, even a filly like Sweetie Belle knew that. She could enchant that suit with anything. Firebreathing. Invisibility. Super speed. Flight. Teleportation or super strength or laser beams or transformation or – oh Celestia, all of them? Twilight could do all of them.

“So,” Sweetie squeaked, interrupting a sentence that she hadn’t heard a single word of. “What are you gonna give me? Make it super speed! No no wait, freeze rays! Invisibility! How many am am I allowed? Wait, make it a surprise!”

Twilight looked at the ceiling and shook her head, a calm smirk on her lips. It was a look that Sweetie Belle had seen reflected in Rarity and her mother many times in the past, and she knew what it meant. Her hopping slowly came to a stop, and she blinked at Twilight.

“I’ve decided I’m going to give you something that will emulate The Sentry’s powers, Sweetie Belle.” Twilight said, levitating the stack of comic books out of the way and pulling a few tomes from the shelves of her library. “Something to enhance your perceptivity and…” Twilight’s sentence trailed off as she skimmed through one of her books, a genuine smile now spreading across her face.

Sweetie’s own smile had dissolved along with her excitement. All of the ideas in her head were clapped out like a candle, but her heart was still racing as if in dim remembrance of the excitement.

“Why…” Sweetie said, feeling somewhere inside her the urge to cry but suppressing it. “...are you gonna give me such lame magic?” Out of all the things in the world, why would Twilight give her that? It’s like she wanted Sweetie to be a talentless pony her entire life.

Twilight was only half paying attention now. “I think this could be quite a valuable experience for you. It’s easy to get carried away with the potential that magic holds, but a firsthand experience with something more passive, more basic…ah!”

Quill and parchment zoomed over Twilight’s shoulder, jotting a few notes as she glanced over one of her open books. If there was one thing Rarity had taught Sweetie Belle, it was that a lady never refuses the kindness of others. Incidentally, Rarity had also taught Sweetie Belle that with enough pushing, a lady can typically use the kindness of others to ensure she got what she wanted.

“Wait, but, Twilight-” Sweetie Belle blurted. “Maybe we can compromise? How about, I can shoot fireballs and do that other thing you wanted me to do?”

“Just a second, I need to concentrate-” Twilight held up a hoof, her eyes firmly glued to her book as her quill scribbled away. The costume lifted itself up, surrounded by the purple glow of Twilight’s magic.

“But, Twilight-!” A bright flash cut Sweetie off. She watched as the costume gently collapsed to the wooden floor. Any further cries of protest fell back down the young filly’s throat, sitting uncomfortably in her stomach. All she could think about was tomorrow - she’d be trailing behind Apple Bloom and Scootaloo, desperate to keep up. She wouldn’t be strong. She wouldn’t be fast. She wouldn’t be anything, and though her friends wouldn’t say anything and pretend it was okay, they would be disappointed. Again, she’d be a disappointment.

Twilight, on the other hand, seemed very pleased with herself. “Looks like the enchantment’s working perfectly. So? Wanna give it a test run?”

“I think I’ll try it on a little later.” Sweetie Belle spoke flatly. As she slung the cape and costume into her bag - she must have imagined that faint tingle when her lips touched the fabric - she took slow steps towards the stairs. “It’s getting late, I should probably get home for dinner.”

“Oh, all right then.” Twilight nodded, her books and notes tidying themselves up. “Just let me know how it works out for you, okay?”

“Okay.” Sweetie Belle looked over her shoulder and faked a smile as best she could. “Thanks, Twilight.”

The stew was kind of gross.

Sweetie Belle slurped the steaming, vaguely turnip-flavored broth in quick, staggered gulps. She wasn’t one to complain about her mother’s cooking, but leftovers night tended to make the little unicorn miss her big sister’s cuisine even more. It also made her wish that leftovers night didn’t happen more often than regular meals.

“What’s the matter, Sweetie?” Her mom asked, peeking her nose over this week’s paperback romance novel. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

“I’m okay.” Sweetie sat back. As she stared into her murky dinner, she eyed the spoon that lay, untouched, on a napkin next to it. As if she could use it. Her mother shrugged and returned to her book.

“Your father said he’d be back a little late tonight, so don’t bother cleaning up his place.”

Sweetie stared at her own distended reflection in the spoon. Straining, she felt it building in her - a deep, tingling feeling that started at the base of her horn, slowly building towards the tip. A faint white glow enveloped the spoon. She didn’t exactly feel the metal - it was distant, like she was remembering how a spoon felt. Slowly, carefully, the spoon lifted off of the napkin.

“Rarity also gave me a call, she’s stopping by tomorrow to drop off my dress. I told her you might be busy with your friends, but she’ll be by in the morning.”

“Okay, mom.” It was just above the bowl now. Sweetie had never managed to hold something for this long. She tried to keep her excitement under control - the glow keeping her spoon afloat was barely there as it was.

“I also saw Ms. Cheerilee in town today, she mentioned something about summer reading project - have you been keeping up with that?”

“Yeah.” The bottom of the spoon touched the surface of the liquid. She just had to gently push down. Gently, slowly push down. The spoon began to slip from her grasp, and instinctively Sweetie tried to scoop it up. The faint white glow of her magic passed under the surface of the stew and-

“Augh!” Sweetie recoiled, the spoon splashing into the bowl as she rubbed her pounding temple with a hoof. Her mom jumped to her hooves, her own horn glowing as a washcloth flew over from the counter.

“You all right, honey?” The washcloth dabbed at the few spots of stew that had splashed on Sweetie Belle before floating over to soak up the mess on the table. The little unicorn shook her head, then leapt from the table.

“I said I’m okay.” Sweetie snapped as she quickly left the kitchen. Her face felt flushed. She trotted up the stairs to her room, shutting the door before her mom could say anything else.

Sweetie didn’t mean to slam her door, but its echo hung in the air. Her mom wasn’t calling after her - her nose was probably back in that stupid book anyway. Leaning against her wooden door, Sweetie felt the need to cry welling up inside her once more. She wasn’t even sure why she thought she could do magic anyway. Why she thought Twilight could help her.

Her discarded saddlebags lay across the room, untouched since she set them down earlier. Sniffling, she wiped the dampness from her eyes, and trod over to the bright blue bags.

Maybe this would help her feel better, at least.

Turning the bags upside down, she dumped the dark-purple outfit onto her carpet. It made her smile, in a silly kind of way. Mare-Do-Well - the caped, fearless defender of justice didn’t cry. She was brave. She was strong. Much stronger than boring, dumb old Sweetie Belle.

Gripping the front end of the unitard in her teeth, Sweetie stretched the first leg over her own. She didn’t remember it feeling so smooth against her leg the last time she tried this on - it actually felt really nice, sliding up her back leg. The spell couldn’t have been working already, could it?

“Oh.” Sweetie couldn’t help but exclaim softly as she slid her other back leg in. No, the costume definitely didn’t feel this nice before. It was so snug against her, smooth and silky and, did it smell like Rarity’s perfume? It was a soft, subtle scent that she hadn’t noticed before. Sweetie slipped the front legs on and brought one costumed hoof to her nose. It did smell like Rarity, and her bookbags, and Twilight’s dusty study, and oh gosh it felt so nice to just rub that cloth against her sensitive little nose…

Sweetie Belle opened her eyes. She saw herself in the mirror that stood across the room, and quickly removed her hoof from her face. The zipper sat just underneath her back legs. Looking herself in the eye, Sweetie stood up straight and held her chin high.

“I can do this.” She said to the determined filly in the mirror as her horn lit up, a soft glow enveloping the zipper under her belly. “You can do this.”

She gave a quick tug, and the glow of her magic dissipated into thin air. Sweetie stomped her hoof, glared into the mirror harder, and lit up her horn once more. Gently, she tugged at the zipper. The small handle began to move. Sweetie inhaled through her nose. One notch. She pulled just a little harder. Another notch. The glow around the zipper was flickering. Three notches. She exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the headache slowly building at the base of her horn. Another three notches. Sweetie took a deep breath and-

“Yes!” Sweetie cried as the zipper pulled itself up to just below her neck. She jumped and jumped in front of the mirror, her leaps for joy quickly turning into karate kicks, punches and heroic poses. After a moment of jumping around, she stopped to admire the panting filly in the mirror once more.

She was still without her cape and hat, but she looked so much cooler now. She had a confident smirk on her face, and eyes that could stare down even the hardest of criminal masterminds. Pointing a hoof to the mirror, she growled in her deepest, grittiest growl-

“Evildoers beware, for I am…” Sweetie faltered. She needed a name. She wasn’t Mare-Do-Well. She certainly wasn’t The Sentry. If there was one thing Sweetie Belle was sure of, it was that in that moment, she was way cooler than both of them combined.

“For I am...Sweetie-Do-Well!” Sweetie proclaimed before breaking into another series of kicks and punches, pausing every few moments to shoot some form of smug look at herself. As she leapt and bounded across her room, Sweetie began to notice that certain things seemed different. The soft creaks of the floorboards beneath her carpet sounded clear as day - she felt them reverberating through her legs as she pushed away. The wind that blew lazily through her cracked window smelled of all sorts of rich, varied scents, and though that window was all the way across the room, she could hear the wind rushing in like it was some kind of storm. Twilight’s spell was really working! Everything looked so fresh, and smelled so new and felt…

Sweetie stopped. She stretched her back leg out, and sure enough, she felt it again. That silky, soft fabric shifting against her. It felt nice on her legs and her body but it felt so strange in that spot. Just beneath her tail. Sweetie stretched her legs again.

“Oh…” The little unicorn cooed again. She knew she wasn’t allowed to let other ponies touch her back there. Rarity, and Cheerilee, and pretty much every older mare had told her that so many times. But every time she shifted her legs, letting the tight fabric brush against her, it made her want more. She stretched her legs again, one after another and wiggled her lower body, trying to rub the as much of the fabric against herself as much as possible. It felt so much more than nice. Why weren’t ponies allowed to touch her down there? Rarity never explained why, and it felt so...nice didn’t even begin to describe how wonderful it felt...

Sweetie Belle’s face hit the ground, snapping her back to reality. How did she get so carried away? Was it really just from having something touch her back there? She’d worn clothing before, mostly for formal occasions at Rarity’s insistence, but it had never felt like that. Cautiously, Sweetie took long, slow steps across her room.

“Oh. Oh, wow.” After a few paces, Sweetie’s legs were shaking. She meant to keep walking further, but all her legs would do was shift and shift, coaxing out that wonderful feeling again. With each rub of the fabric, it felt like it lingered more. It made Sweetie breathe quick and hard. Whatever it was, it was amazing.

The little unicorn felt like she was going to lose her balance again. Steeling herself, she took quick, awkward steps toward her bed. She gasped and grunted as she walked, and when she landed with a bounce on her soft bed, she tried desperately to catch her breath.

It was still there. That soft, aching feeling between her hind legs, pulsing with her heart. She had never touched herself down there before. Never even thought about it. Lying on her back, all she had to do was reach a hoof down.

She shouldn’t. She should ask Rarity or her mom what was going on, where all these strange feelings where coming from. She shouldn’t.

One forehoof rested on her chest, right on stop of her heart. She could feel it pounding. Somehow even that felt good, sending shivers through her entire body. She brushed her hoof up and down her chest, directionless. Even the slightest movement sent unfamiliar jolts through her body.

Twilight’s spell certainly was working, Sweetie Belle had no doubt about that. It was working in amazing ways she’d never figured it would, making her feel everything, feel things she didn’t even know she could. If she had known wearing the costume was going to feel like this, she never would have whined at Twilight for her selection in enchantments.

“Ooooh gosh.” It was vaguely like the static she felt when she rubbed her hooves against a thick carpet, but it was all over and somehow inside of her, inside of her mind. She closed her eyes and let her head rest on the bed as her hoof continued in lazy circles over her body. It felt so good all over, but in particular down there, down where she wasn’t supposed to let anyone touch. She began slowly rocking her body up and down on her bed. Her butt kept the costume in place, so when she slid back down the velvet fabric was stretched taut over her, digging into her coat and spreading her–

She let out a moan without meaning to. Some guttural part of her voiced its approval. It was loud – too loud. She immediately looked up to make sure her door was still shut. It felt too good to stop. She bit her lip and collapsed back down on her bed, actively trying to stifle any further sounds.

Is this how The Sentry had discovered her powers? Sweetie Belle now regretted not taking an interest in Twilight’s childhood hero. Maybe the pages of that comic were filled with the intrepid young hero spending time in her room, wondering why every part of her felt electrified, what this strange sensation building up inside her was, why she felt so gooood…

Her hoof explored her body, lower and lower. It rolled over the slight pudge of her belly, caressing it in passing. Her whole body rose as she took in each gasping mouthful of air, trying, failing, to catch her breath. Each inch seemed to heighten the sensations more and more. The closer she got to the place no pony was supposed to touch, the better everything felt.

Mustering strength she didn’t know she had, she managed to pull her hoof away from stomach, stopping for the first time in – who knows? She’d lost track of time as she explored her own body.

Was she still a failure? Was she a failure because she couldn’t even manage a few steps in her own room without her legs threatening to give out? Is this what a superhero did? Lay in her bed and run her hoof up and down her own body? Sweetie didn’t think so...right? Did that mean she had already failed at being a hero? Celestia, it was so hard to care or even think about stuff like that. This strange quivering that still tremored through her body even a minute after she stopped touching herself felt so good that it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Even as her chest rose and fell, brushing against the skin-tight silk, it sent echoes of that sensation through her body.

Her breathing neared something resembling a regular pattern, so she decided to start again. Licking her lips, she took in a sharp breath and swallowed. Cautiously, as if trying to prepare for the assault of sensations, her hoof made gentle contact her stomach.

A muted whimper escaped her clenched mouth. It felt just as good as before, better, maybe, because of the minute she’d abstained and grown to miss the feeling. It was all she could to keep her body still – every part of her wanted to be moving, every inch possible rubbing against something, brushing against the fabric.

Her hoof went lower than before and found–

She screamed. She couldn’t help herself. Her hoof brushed against a little hard nub that was poking out right below her stomach, and that simple brush made her entire body shake and all control fly out the window. She screamed a mindless moan for a second, at least, before she caught herself.

Her entire body writhed. It was like she was on fire, every inch of her burning up. She was burning in delight. Her eyes welled with tears. It was too much. Sweetie couldn’t handle it. If this was what being a superhero was, Sweetie wasn’t sure she could handle how amazing it felt.

“Sweetie?” A voice, seemingly a dimension away, drifted into her room from downstairs. “Are you okay up there, Sweetie?”

She froze. Her body stiffened. If her Mom found her like this she’d probably get the costume taken from her. Rarity didn’t know about the enchantment, no one but Twilight did.

She closed her eyes, a single tear running down her face and celestia even that felt good that single drop of hot liquid running down her face edging along her ear and falling on to the bed. The trail it left in its wake was blistering and vivid. She took in several gasps, as softly as she could, and clenched her teeth. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for being a superhero if she couldn’t even give her Mom an answer.

She steeled herself, running three words over in her mind again and again. She’d just have to say three words without the sentence becoming a moan. Three little words. Sweetie Belle couldn’t do something like this, but Sweetie-Do-Well might be able to.

“Sweetie?” the voice said again. A hoof clopping on the stairs. Another. Now or never.

“I’m fine, Mom!” Sweetie shouted back, her voice cracking into a million pieces at the last word despite her preparation. Her mother didn’t make a sound. The entire world froze. Everything hung in the balance. Her secret identity. Her future as a valiant crime-fighter.

Then, a sound of hoof on wood, another, slowly becoming quieter. Silence.

Sweetie let out a hot lungful of air. She had to be more quiet in the future, no matter what. She looked across from her bed and saw her dresser. An idea entered her mind to shove a sock or something into her mouth to muffle her noise, but that’s something a weakling like Sweetie-Belle would do. A hero like Sweetie-Do-Well would be able to keep quiet as she touched her own body.

There was no waiting this time. Immediately, her hoof dove down to that pair of nubs and brushed them. She remembered asking Rarity what they were, once. Only a few tatters of the textbook explanation her sister had given her remained in her memory – something about foals, maybe? Sweetie had never given them a second thought until now. Now that rubbing them made her entire body quiver. She’d managed a second of this sensation before she sighed and collapsed down again, letting the foreign, thrilling throbbing course through her for a while. She could feel the smile on her face.

She leaned up and did it again. Each time, her tolerance built up to the point where she was able to rub herself for a few seconds before she felt an unstoppable moan begin to well up inside of her.

Sweetie Belle had rubbed every inch of herself while she was in the bath. She’d been touched and tickled and tackled all over roughhousing with her friends. In a shadowed corner of the playground one day, with Scootaloo looking on, grinning, she’d even brushed lips with a colt from school. But none of that even came close to what she was feeling her in her room tonight. It was like she was feeling for the first time. She’d been numb before – this is what it was like to feel.

This was a night of firsts. She was eager to find what else her body was capable of making her feel tonight. She inched lower and felt the lips that had been parted by her costume. A second of light touching, then she pulled away, gasping for breath. Her hoof came away wet, and she brought it up to her face. It wasn’t like she wet herself – no, it was like she was clammy, like she’d been sweating too much. The wetness was sticky and smelled musky and strange. The smell reminded her of the time last summer that they’d heard Applejack screaming in the barn and went to investigate, only to find her and Big Macintosh smiling and slowly making their way out of the building as they neared the doors. Past the smell of hay, the entire barn smelled the way her hoof did now.

“Oh, gosh,” Sweetie said to her hoof. A bizarre flood of sensations and desires attacked her. Her hips bucked forward almost on their own, as if desperately seeking her hoof again. As if pleading to just touch it down there a little bit more, please. Sweetie was in no state to resist.

Her hoof connected with the thin fabric again. It’s almost like the suit wasn’t even there sometimes – the feeling of her hooves rubbing against the place she could never let any pony touch and never thought about touching herself until now was too real, too good.

“Fffhnngg…” She had to make noise, but couldn’t vocalize what she needed to say. Grunting and moaning felt appropriate. Thoughts and memories flooded her – Rarity never explained anything about this. Did Rarity know that touching yourself felt this good if you had the right material? She’d have to ask her sister later what fabric she–

“Ughhh…” Sweetie leaned forward, her light touches becoming more and more aggressive, gone from distracted teasing to more forceful motions, pushing her hoof up and down. She was exhausted but exhilarated - she felt like she would have passed out if it didn’t mean this impossibly pleasurable sensation would ebb and fade.

She was grunting more and more, each time her hoof rubbed against the taut suit. She closed her mouth but that only made them a little quieter, it didn’t stop – she couldn’t stop. Stretching down, she noticed that there was a dark patch of wetness where she’d been feverishly rubbing. Her whole body was moving in time with her hooves, grinding into them, thrusting forward as best she could she couldn’t stop she couldn’t stop something was building up inside of her welling up she was going to explode it just kept welling inside of her this sensation and everything about it told her to continue she needed to keep going she’d go crazy she’d never felt like this

“Sweetie?”

Sweetie Belle groaned as she slowed down, much to the protest of her desperate, wanting body. Mom was close. Right outside the door. She looked at the growing puddle of wetness spreading across her suit, the sticky-sweet smell of it clear to the superfilly’s new powers. Just as the door creaked open, she hopped from her bed onto the floor, her wet buttocks facing away from the mare peeking into the room. The sensation of her hooves hitting the floor, sending vibrations all through her body, was enough to make her legs wobble and risk giving out.

“Sweetie, are you okay?” Her mom’s smile slowly faded.

Sweetie Belle was panting. So out of breath that she couldn’t do anything but, so frustrated at being interrupted that she wanted to scream. She shifted back and forth on her hind legs, putting weight on the left, then on the right. Just enough to keep the fabric shifting and rubbing against her, keeping her panting, filled to the brim on the edge of tipping over.

“F-fine.”

Sweetie’s Mom blinked at the flustered, disheveled filly. “You’ve been acting strange all night, honey. Did you catch a heat cold?” Her mom stepped into the room, inching the door open.

Sweetie shook her head, taking an instinctive step backwards She couldn’t open her mouth now, just taking a step, rubbing her hoof against the carpet, just that was enough to almost push her over whatever edge of sanity she was clinging to. If she tried to speak she knew that all that would come out would be a very impolite series of sounds.

The smell was stronger than ever. Sweetie knew, distantly, that her senses were enhanced, but the smell of her sweat and that other, less distinct musky smell hung thick in the air. If her mom smelled that, who knows what she’d think.

“That’s a cute costume,” Mom said, smiling again. “Playing dress-up? Did Rarity make that for you?”

Sweetie nodded slowly. The silk rubbing against her neck sent sparks through her body. Something wet slowly trickled down her thigh, hot and wet and soaking into the thin fabric. Oh no. Oh, no no no.

“That was generous of her. She did a really nice job. I can’t wait to see what mine looks like tomorrow.”

oh celestia please just she couldn’t hold it in any longer her hooves shook and she had to consciously fight the urge to start rubbing herself again so good

“Speaking of, it’s a little bit past your bedtime. You’ll have plenty of time to play dress-up with your friends tomorrow.”

On any other day she’d have a complaint ready but today she had something much more important to worry about.

“O-okay, Mom.”

“I’ll be back up a few minutes to tuck you in, okay? Go wash up after your room is clean.”

Her mom smiled at her and backed out of the threshold, inching the door shut again.

“Oh gosh,” Sweetie said, mumbling the phrase over and over again as she paced around her room, trying to keep her mind off of it. She’d managed to be distracted enough that the strange sensations were just diminishing echoes now. Most of her wanted to collapse into a heap on the floor right there and put her hoof right between her hind legs again where it clearly belonged, but some part of her was telling her no.

No, it wouldn’t do to make a mess of her costume. She’d already soaked the rump of it by doing...whatever it was she had been doing. She could ask the girls tomorrow after they were done crusading, maybe. But for now, she couldn’t make any further mess of the costume. It would be bad for the fearsome Sweetie-Do-Well to confront evil-doers while smelling like she’d spent all afternoon in her stuffy room running her hoof all over her private parts.

She took a deep breath, and her hooves fumbled at the zipper. She’d barely been able to magic the zipper shut in the first place – she didn’t even want to think about how much effort it’d be to try while her mind was still trying to deal with the reverberating sensations that shivered through her whenever she began something as simple as moving the zipper down.

It was only when she pulled her forelegs out of their sleeves that she realized just how much she’d been sweating. The costume clung to her and slowly peeled from her matted coat and gosh that made her moan but no she couldn’t focus on that had to get out of this costume. She wiggled it down her waist, past her stomach. Each inch of her that was revealed to the open air felt like she was slow being submerged in warm, viscous liquid. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the feeling that surged through her and focus only on getting the suit off. A superhero knows when the it’s time to go back to being a regular pony. Her teeth her clenched, and her breathing was slow and deliberate.

The fabric slid around her rump, her tail pulling through and eventually freed from the costume. This was the most challenging part. She let out a throaty ‘oh’ as the costume brushed against her wet folds for the final time that evening. All that was left was shaking her hind legs free of the final limbs of the costume.

Her fur was even more matted and sticky around her legs. It was amazing how well she could feel it, even with the suit off – maybe this was her talent, after all? She could feel the drying liquid on her leg, the warmth breath in front of her face as she panted loud and heavy, the hot blood that rushed to her face in her excitement, every bead of sweat that coated her tangled fur. She could still feel it all. It was dizzying.

The costume lay in a crumpled, wet heap a step away from her. She considering throwing it in the laundry, but some part of that felt so...unheroic. She didn’t want to be separated from her disguise and the source of her powers for even a moment.

As if to test herself, she scrunched her face and concentrated on a corner of the costume. A light glow enveloped a tiny part of it, and the costume slowly rose, and moved towards the open closet door. Sweetie Belle grunted. Almost there…

The costume fell ungracefully on the pile of toys in her closet. She grinned, and rushed over to slam the door shut. Even still, each footstep felt so...real. It was impossible to describe. It’s like Sweetie had just gotten out of a hot shower, except instead of water it was her own sweat and instead of a clean, satisfied warmth she felt dirty but somehow more content, much, much better.

She should at least clean her room before she washed up. She looked around the room, and settled on the open window. With a measured pace, Sweetie slowly made her way across her room. Each time her hoof brushed against the carpet, she felt it. Still, even with the suit gone. This ghosty haze of extreme sensation washed over her. She reached the window.

It was hot out. The middle of summer, so it was no surprise, but it was warm even for a summer night. Sweetie Belle smiled up at the stary sky, briefly imagining how good a spotlight with a symbol of SWEETIE-DO-WELL would look shimmering up there.

A strong gust of wind blew through the window and around the room, hitting Sweetie Belle directly. It wasn’t strong enough to do anything to a normal pony, but Sweetie Belle recoiled and took a step back. The wind rushed over her, she could feel it weaving in and out each individual strand of her mane and her coat. It was humid and hot, contrasting with the cooling sweat on her body in a way that made little bursts of sensation pop all over her body, making her squeal out loud.

Her front legs quivered, and finally gave out. She fell face down into the carpet and tried to bring herself to her feet but she had never realized how amazing the carpet felt. It was okay to just lay there for a little bit, brushing her face against the fibers. A wide, absent-minded grin slowly spread across her face. Maybe she could just...lay here. She let out a soft coo as her body slowly rocked.

Her forehoof, almost on its own, snaked underneath her and ran across her heaving chest and down her stomach. It was an awkward stretch but Sweetie certainly wasn’t willing to lift herself up from the ground.

Sweetie didn’t want to waste any time now. Her mom would be back in a few minutes. She didn’t have time to experiment. Sweetie knew what felt good. She didn’t know how or why but she knew that this is what she needed.

She was already wet, again. Without the suit in the way there was something dull about the experience but captured enough of what had made the hour the most vivid hour of her life that she saw no reason to stop now. The interruption with her mom was nothing more than a delay and her body soon was back in the motions she’d discovered tonight.

It didn’t take any more teasing to bring her back to the edge. She moaned into the carpet. She didn’t even have work too hard – just her hoof being there was making her burn up inside. Her body moved back and forth, digging into the carpet.

Faster and fast, her rump grinding against her hoof, her face against the ground. Everything felt so close to her, so real. She was making noises now, but she didn’t even know what to call them, just noises. There was that sensation building in her again as if it had never left. A strange feeling, like there was a part of her deep inside desperate to escape. By now a thin stream of tears was rolling down from her clenched eyes. She resettled her hindlegs firmly on the ground, her rump still pistoning back and forth as if there was some force behind her rhythmically slamming her forward.

She couldn’t keep her mouth closed so the little high-pitched squeaks she’d be crying each time her hoof made contact with her rump became louder. She looked up at the open window, distantly worried but not enough to actually do something about it.

Something was happening. Her legs were twitching uncontrollably, her whole body shaking. Her voice was falling up and down as she thrust against herself. She heard it before she felt it – another breeze rolled into the room and washed over her.

She gasped, taking in a chestful of air, and let it out in a guttural moan. The warm air felt so much more than amazing it was like submerging in a steaming bathtub after a day of playing in the snow but instead of water it was dozens of soft hooves caressing every inch of your body the air rolled over her flowing through and cutting straight to her core and–

Sweetie’s eyes shot open. A hot spurt of something, from deep inside, rushed past her hoof. Her ears picked up the faint sound of liquid softly falling against the carpet over the loud, groaning cries that escaped her muzzle. Her mind was blank except for this feeling - it was the only thing that mattered in the world and she’d keep it going as long as she could. Her breathing became a rapid-fire series of grunts as she panted, her entire body electrified. She was wetter than she was before, squirting all over her hoof and down her leg. The warm liquid drooled down her forehoof which was still gently massaging, almost residually.

Her legs finally gave out and she slumped to the floor, her hoof finally escaping the crook between her hindlegs where Sweetie had recently discovered true feeling lay. She rolled over on her back. Her mom could walk into the room right now and she’d stay like this. Out of breath no matter how much she gasped. Every part of her sore and aching, like she’d just run a mile. She stared up the ceiling, her mind only trying to wrap itself around what she had just experienced. A steady stream of warm liquid dripped down to the base of her tail and pooled there.

A few breaths passed through her open mouth. Sweetie Belle felt her eyelids closing, her suppressed exhaustion finally catching up with her. Maybe she should just fall asleep here, on her soft, comfortable carpet…

Another gust of warm summer air blew in, brushing against her soaked body. Sweetie jumped. How long had she been lying there? She needed to get cleaned up. She needed to clean herself off and get into bed and do something about that little wet patch in the carpet. Running over to her door, she pushed it open just enough to take a peek into the hall. The coast was clear. If only she was wearing her costume - she’d be able to hear where her mom was, no matter how far away. Although, there wasn’t much point in being sneaky if she could barely walk without succumbing to...whatever that was.

Sweetie dashed as quietly as she could, slipping past the bathroom door and gently securing it. Her eyes fell on the hamper, stuffed to the brim with clothes ready for tomorrow morning’s wash. Sweetie frowned, then dashed back to her room, grabbing the costume in her teeth. Just touching her lips to the wet fabric sent a shiver down her spine. It still smelled so strong, just a little sweet. She had to concentrate. Dashing back to the bathroom, she buried the costume under a small pile of her dad’s flowery shirts.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Sweetie looked at herself in the mirror as she grabbed a bunch of paper towels in her teeth. Her mane and tail were a mess, to say nothing of the matted fur on her hooves and hindlegs. As she dabbed herself dry, she imagined herself having just come home from a night out, fighting bad guys and saving Ponyville from certain disaster. Safe in the bathroom, her mom none the wiser. Even her friends didn’t know for now, but soon, The Cutie Mark Crusaders would be an unstoppable team of superheroes.

And, perhaps most importantly, Sweetie Belle would get to feel that nice again. Her face flushed thinking about how wonderful it was - she would have to do it again. Purely for understanding her own abilities, of course.

“You ready for bed, Sweetie?” Her mom called through the door. Dropping the last of the soaked towels in the garbage, Sweetie took a deep breath and pulled open the bathroom door.

“Yes, mom!” Sweetie replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. With just a hint of a smile on her face, she trotted past her mother, across the hall and into her room. Taking care to avoid even looking at the little wet spot in the center of her room, she hopped under her covers, smiling sweetly as her mom magically tucked the sheets in.

“G’night, Sweetie.” Her mom gave her a kiss to the forehead, but Sweetie Belle barely noticed. Her eyes had drifted to her open window, looking out at Luna’s bright moon. Sweetie Belle was going to sleep. But crime never rests. And now, neither would Sweetie-Do-Well.

“Good night, mom.” Sweetie grinned.

With a glow of her mother’s horn and a click, Sweetie’s lamp went out.

The bright morning sun fought as hard as it could to get past Twilight’s kitchen curtains. Rarity sipped at the coffee she was kindly offered, though its bitterness did little to ease her mood.

“She pulled it off the clothesline and was out the door before she could say much more.” Rarity tried to keep her tone even. “But, enchanting her costume? Giving her some kind of magic she’s barely capable of handling? Twilight, not to sound insensitive, but this is my sister. You know how...irresponsible she can be.”

Twilight chuckled, which caught Rarity off guard. She wasn’t used to Twilight being so lax about...well, anything, really. Twilight acting so nonchalant about being responsible with magic? That was frightening.

“Don’t worry, Rarity. I didn’t actually give her superpowers. That charm I cast just makes her perceive her regular senses as though they’ve been heightened.” Twilight took another sip of her coffee. “Trust me, the last thing I’d want is a super-powered Sweetie Belle running around town.”

“I don’t think a Sweetie Belle who thinks she has super powers is much better.” Rarity muttered.

“I’ll remove the enchantment tomorrow. It’ll be a good learning experience for her.” Twilight smiled, laying a hoof over Rarity’s. The white unicorn nodded, letting a faint, understanding smile show. “I know you’re worried about her, but just trust me on this.”

Twilight watched the shadow of a bird flitting in front of her curtained window. “I think she’ll be just fine.”