My name is Featherweight, and I will kill a pony.
My unicorn classmate is talking to me. She’s watching me with her deep green eyes, the mouth under them is moving but I’m not hearing any word coming out of it.
The dance of her lips is amusing to me. I wonder if it is possible to make her white delicate lips move sticking an electrified wire under her face. I decide her face should be mine. I picture it on a wall in my room. Or maybe I could put in on my alarm clock, the ring tone might start to sound like her voice.
“...rweight, are you okay? Did you hear me?”
“A-ahm sorry,” I say putting up a friendly smile “I zoned out a little, didn’t get much sleep last night. C-can you repeat?”
“It’s all right. I just asked if I could borrow your pencil. Mine’s broken.” she says, returning my smile.
“Sure” I say, as nicely I can manage.
While I search for it in my bag I give the unicorn filly a look. She really is beautiful. Pink and violet curls come down her neck, a small slender horn on her forehead. From my position I’m almost able to see her sex. I know it’s gentle, soft and as candid as her fur, I see it every night. I dream to taste it, cut it, enter it. Sometimes to become it.
Just yesterday I couldn’t help but masturbate to her delicate form. In my mind her pussy was just centimeters from my face, I tried sticking out my tongue to lick it, but I found nothing. I came with its smell penetrating my nose, teasing me. My dick twitching, I shot spurts of sticky stuff all over my belly, but my brain told me that I was actually coming on her, inside her, in every organ she has. That now she had my sperm instead of blood. That she was mine.
I force myself to stop this train of thought, as I feel my penis and wings stiffening, and focus on the pencil. I find it and note immediately how sharp it is. Images start to invade my mind. Images impregnated of gore and entrails. Images most ponies would surely think as deviant and disturbing.
For me they are art.
I jump on my hooves, sweating, trembling. I slowly turn to her. She looks at me inquisitively and notices my erection. Her beautiful eyes widen with surprise. I rise my hoof and thrust the pencil into one of them.
For a fraction of a second time stops, her face frozen, an adorable blush on her cheeks, mouth slightly agape. In that moment I am sure, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that I love her with all my might. That I will spend my life with her, kissing, cuddling and gutting her, exloring every ounce of her body and mind. Figuratively and litterally.
And when we’ll be dead, somepony will turn our corpse in stone, forever in an eternal embrace, biting chunks of each other’s flesh off. Celestia will put us in Canterlot’s Gardens for all to see, for all to remember. Parents will traumatize their children telling our story.
However it only lasts a moment, then she screams. An ear-piercing, agonizing shriek. Perfect. It means I haven’t killed her yet. As she screams blood and another transparent fluid pour out her damaged eye, they look like the red water tricks of a marble fountain. It takes all my will not to drink them, like a thirsty traveler.
To make her screeches stop I pin her to the desk and start choking her. Trough my hooves I’m feeling the life slowly drained from her. Her rhythmic heartbeat’s slowing down. The sensation is incredibly arousing, and a drop of precum leaks from my turgid cock.
Suddenly some hot liquid spills on my backlegs. I look down to investigate and finally see it, between her kicking legs, her pussy. It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. Two tender light pink lips, spread just a little, connects in the small pearl that is her clit. Her marble colored fur surround it, like a luxuriant garden. She’s pissing herself, but that makes her lovely entrance even more appealing to my eyes.
I lay my hoof on it, its touch alone almost brings me to orgasm. The sensation is indescribable, it’s even softer than I thought and wet just enough. It’s heavenly. I can’t wait any longer, so I line my dick to her small hole. I prod it with my tip, and a wave of pleasure travel to the rest of my body. Unable to control me any longer, I push. I feel some resistance, but I tear trough it without hesitation, this is rewarded by a cute cry of pain from my loved one.
My penis is now completely buried inside her, my balls touches her other hole. I am in another place, her sweet softness is all around me, my mind floats in ecstasy , my body is numb, I can’t concentrate on anything else but the overwhelming pleasure. I moan loudly.
I start moving, each trust is rougher, quicker and better than the previous. Her pussy wraps tight around my shaft, blood spilling out of it every time I move. I look at her, she is crying, her hair is a mess and the left eye is a gorish pulp.
To console her, I lean forward and kiss her open mouth. We share everything, even saliva, my toungue rolls over hers. Then my teeth close over her bottom lip, I taste her blood, it’s wonderful. I bite harder severing it and swallow. Now the pony I love is inside me as I’m inside her in this moment.
This mere thought brings me over the edge. I pierce her pussy as I come, I release my load in her wombs, groaning as I do so. I’m still riding my climax when I realize how this needs to end.
I took her head between my hooves and stare into her sane eye. Under all the tears and the pain I still see the filly I’ve fallen in love with. She’s terrified. My lips curl up in a reassuring smile, the same expression I had when I was talking to her. She seems to recognize it, and I see a small hope in her eye.
Without breaking eye contact, I push the pencil deep inside her skull. Blood spills from the injury and stain my face. I can sense the tip penetrating in her brain, with my very hoof. The feeling is as strong as the one I got when I touched her pussy for the first time.
She’s convulsing, I hug her tightly, still staring at her. Then, while I watch, the light leave her eye. And she is gone.
“Featherweight?...
Featherweight? Are you still looking for it? If you didn’t have one, you could have told.”
I wake up to her melodious voice. I’m disorientated, but quick enough to provide a credible excuse.
“I’m sorry Sweetie Belle, I thought I had one, I was so happy to help you. Didn’t want to let you down.”
She blushes and smile. She doesn’t seem to notice the stiffness between my legs.
“ Aw, thank you Featherweight, you’re so nice.”
That was close. I can’t let anyone know what I imagine when i zone out, what I do in my mind. They would confine me in some hospital. I can’t go away.
I direct my attention to the teacher, pretend to follow the lesson.
***********
My name is Featherweight, and I will kill a pony
I’ve already did it countless times. In my mind, I’ve tortured, raped, killed and loved millions of mares and fillies.
But my imagination won’t suffice forever. I realized it’s only a matter of time before I do it in real life. It could be tomorrow, next week, ten years from now, but i the end i’ll do it. It could be Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, or Apple Bloom.
I’ll do it because that’s what ponies like me do, they murder.
Because my mind tells me to do it, and I am my mind.
