cumisshiun one, Sweeti and the attic - Pascal
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cumisshiun one, Sweeti and the attic - Pascal
DON'T POST:
~Multiple chapters of stories as separate stories.
Technically this hasn't happened yet. So I'm good rite?
The trapdoor to the attic heaved up then thumped onto the dry floorboards, disturbing the untouched layer of dust carpeting it. Tiny white hooves hauled up the larger bulk of their owner in what could only be described as a distasteful play of purple prose. The adolescent unicorns face held inquisitive eyes which scanned the cluttered area so uncharacteristic of their home, this place was dirty. Rarity would have a fit.
She took a ginger step into the darkness then paused as her hoof sunk into the layer of dust contained within "eww" she shuddered, yet glad that her older sister wasn't around to dictate her every move. What was up here exactly that warranted a lock and expressent forbearance towards entering. Her young mind conjured up many things, from ghosts to gremlins and even old mannequins, yet ultimately her mind had settled on a bunch of early dresses. Still, what children couldn't have they would always covet the most, and so here she found herself, alone in a dark and dusty attic that had been off access for as long as she could remember.
Lavender eyes scanned the room, she initially struggled to make out the blurred figures in the inky darkness but over time her eyes grew accustomed to the black. Surrounding her were what appeared to be two items of furniture covered with tarpaulin, her gaze wondered past them to the haphazardly boarded up window casting a thin strip of light onto the room. The only sound around was her own breathing, soon her curiosity overcame her apprehensive skittishness and she took another more confident step forward into the now decipherable black.
The sudden creaking of the floorboards roared in her ears and made her jump, she drew a bated breath before she remembered where her sister was, the library. She breathing relaxed and she continued on despite the caking of dust now surrounding her hooves until she stood in front of the long covered object of furniture in front of the window. Her eyes lingered for a second before she pulled the material away and stood mouth agape in surprise. There was a bed in the attic, a simple thing, what surprised her was that the colourful blue fabric quilting it.
Her mouth worked open and closed uselessly, how come rarity had never told her they had a spare room in the attic, this would have been perfect for club sleepovers, that lone window which had always piped her curiosity from outside gave a perfect view of the whole poniville. Pushing the protective cloth aside she collapsed onto the unmade bed, presumably left as it was found she reasoned. She fought the counter productive urge to facehoof as she realized the dust caking her hooves had now become smeared over the unmade bed, good thing her sister never ventured up here.
A sigh, "Rarities going to kill me if she ever finds out about this..." she lamented. Aside from the bare flooring and walls covered in flaking paint, she felt... right here, just right. The area seemed to emit an aura of privacy and freedom she scarcely had the chance to enjoy in the lower levels of the house, where there were no doors except that of the bathroom, and any random stranger could just waltz into their sitting room to make an order.
She let herself sink into the blue fabric and relaxed, focusing on her breathing, perhaps if she asked really nicely her sister would allow her to move up here to the place which had the very qualities she craved so dearly. It was worth hoping.
While she was considering her options her lavendered orbs had idly drifted over to the other clothed object sitting in the darkness, the sight of which brought her out of her ponderings. As the cloth drifted to the floor at the behest of a hoof, she jumped when an object clattered to the floor and rolled a short distance before coming to a stop. Rolling to glance over the the edge of the bed, she beheld a blue yoyo that's insides were rusting with the passage of time. Undeveloped magic gripped the metal ring out of curiosity but the frayed coils of twine merely snapped upon being jerked.
Disregarding the broken toy with a frown she turned her attention back to the aged wooden dresser, laying face down on it was a picture frame,this perked her attention. Without really thinking she picked it up and carried it under arm to the center of the room where the cracks in the wood boarding shone through the derelict window. Squinting she her eyes lit up in recognition, a much younger version of their parents stared back with wide, innocent smiles. Her fathers kind eyes free from wrinkles stared slightly off from the camera, upon his head was his trademark hat, now brand new and completely unfrayed. Just out of arms reach was his wife, her mother, with long flowing locks as opposed to the out of date beehive hairdo. Sweeties eyes widened in amazement as some strange sort of unknown nostalgia overcame her.
Eventually her eyes wondered to the two foalish figures sitting in between her parents, one was her very sister, yet she looked about her age. She still had the same hair style, and her face displayed a joyful smile full of innocence and happiness.
She paused, there was a stranger in her family photo, a off-pink haired colt with brown mane, hooves and chest marred by patches of dirt, yet smile identical to that of the younger rarity. He stood slightly taller than her sister, looking quite radiant, in his hooves he clenched a worn out hoofball. They sat side by side, with each parents forehoof slung around their shoulders in a display of affection.
For the longest time she stared at the image, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. But in the end the only explanation she was coming up with was that this colt was somehow, impossibly, her sibling. But how... why had nopony ever mentioned that to her, that she had a brother. Her brow furrowed, she had a brother... so where was he now.
It suddenly dawned on her, much to her horror. "....That must have been why" she uttered in barely a whisper, realizing why her sister had been so utterly opposed to her venturing into the attic. Her brother must be dead. She clenched her eyes at the sudden revelation, she had a brother and he had died, and she'd come into and messed up his room, desecrated his things and dirtied his bed. She swallowed, feeling sick, throat dry. She had to get out of here, get out of here before her sister came and saw what she had done, all in the sake of curiosity. It wasn't worth it.
When rarity finally ventured home, she found her sister sobbing under the sheets. Upon questing sweetie-belle she received no answer.
The next day at school passed even slower than was usual, with a glum looking white unicorn slumped in her seat. The school bell rang out and the room was quickly emptied of pupils who dashed out with abandon, knocking into desks and otherwise making lots of noise, as little fillies are apt to do. Yet sweetie-belle lagged behind lethargically, taking an uncharacteristically long time packing her things away, unsure if she even wanted to go home right now.
"Sweeti?" she paused, then turned back curiously to regard her teacher, who's own concerned gaze came down upon her.
"Is everything all right? you seemed a bit... subdued in class?"
The automatic response came naturally "I'm fine miss cheerilee" yet her voice was sombre.
The lips of her mentor curved downwards, "...are you sure?"
Sweeti opened her mouth to reply but stopped before any sound came out, she stood wordlessly for a few sconds before glancing towards the floor, trying to ignore the troubling gaze of her tutor.
"actually... was there ever a little colt that came here"
Her teacher concerned gaze formed into one of confusion and perhaps worry "a colt?"
"yea..." she continued in a cracking voice. "he had a brown mane and pink hair..."
The frown on cheerlies face deepened while her eyes softened into a state conveying profound sadness and realization. yet quickly as it happened the truth only lasted for less than a mere second before her eyes hardened and her mouth straightened into an uncharacteristically thin line.
"No, never." And with that she went back to marking test scores.
Sweetie waited until eventually, standing alone with no further explanation she awkwardly left the room.
Across the room sat what she reckoned to be the kindest, most understanding stallion the world had ever known, her dear old dad. The older man sat with his signature straw hat, supposedly a dear present from an old friend, with his eyes glued intently to the news paper. His eyes suddenly became hazy, his head lolled forward as if being bushed by some invisible hoof and his eyes closed gently. Then came a hacking cough, the very kind that filled her with a faded sense of dread if only because of the frequency of their occurrence. He'd been sick for as long as she could remember, his breathing was bad and his joints ached, yet he was always there for her, had always walked her to school when she was younger and he was still employed as a journalist.
She was proud of her father and loved him dearly, he never made a big fuss out of his condition and always just got on with life she supposed, to the absolute best of his ability. But she had taken notice, he seemed to be getting more frail lately, she supposed it had been old age.
Suppressing the ache in her heart she ambled up to the aging stallion and forced a smile onto her face to cheer him up. He was never happy unless she was happy, never.
The paper was roughly dumped on the desk as the stallion enthusiastically turned to face her with a smile on his face "Hey sweeti, how was my little angels day at school?" he studied her with rapt attention.
"Hi daddy" she replied, slightly less enthusiastically then usual "it was fine, I-" her smile faltered for a fraction of a second-"I- learned some cool stuff about the crystal empire and-"
"whats wrong sweetie?" her father interjected, face having instantly lost it's gleam upon noticing the minute changes in her facial structure.
She sighed, remembering why she had come to talk to the only pony who she could trust to not overreact in any way, although she shuddered to think of how he imparticular would react to such questions.'did I have a brother' she imagined herself callously asking, only for him to burst into tears. She was definitely beginning to have second thoughts.
Swallowing she replied "n-no, i'm fine dad, it's just"
"it's just what? ...come on you can tell me whats wrong? I won't shout, promise" He winked and made a gesture across his chest.
His concern deepened when his daughter didn't relax or crack a smile.
"it's nothing" she said, eyes glancing at the floor towards a particularly interesting corner of the room.
"... what's the matter, please?" he asked, now sombre.
The white filly gulped and turned to meet her fathers sad eyes, "I- it's just.... I mean..." she stammered, unsure of how to say this.
The stallion swiveled his flank in the chair to face her and rested his forelegs on his knees.
"what is it? you know you can talk to me about anything sweeti?"
Her mouth went dry and for the longest time she seemed to just stand there "I-....I... went into the attic" her face went pale and she chewed her lip, why had she said that. she shouldn't have said that, what was wrong with her.
Meanwhile her father took a sharp in hail of breath as if stabbed by some icy implement "w-what"
Her eyes clenched shut "I'm so sorry daddy! I-I didn't know, I just wanted to find out what was-" she froze on the verge of sobbing as her father held up a hoof too quiet her, then ran the same hoof slowly down his face, letting loose a long and mournful sigh.
She was shaking, why had she ever told anyone about this, let alone her dad. She'd made her daddy upset. The thought made her eyes water profusely. The white filly couldn't even bare to look at him, the mere sight making her weepy.
"I'm so sorry daddy" she sobbed. She froze up in shock as her dad lept from the seat and raced towards her, she half expected him to hit her, she would have deserved it too. she closed her eyes.
What she found instead a warm embrace and the stallions own tears staining her back.
"No, no sweetie, I could never be mad at you" he gasped, wheezing. They held each other for minutes until sweetie had calmed down considerably.
The stallion sat staring at the opposite wall in deep thought, daugter cradled in his arms. "you found out about your brother?" he asked rhetorically for lack of a better place to start. His offspring nodded her head. He sighed.
"did he...is he..." she whimpered only to be hugged tighter.
"No, never" he uttered. He had dreaded this day would, the day all parents had to go through, a horrible day he had already been through on two separate occasions. He'd have to give his precious youngest daughter The Talk.
An explanation into why every young able bodied colt was drafted into celestias army to serve and protect the realm, to keep the war out of it's boarders, why her big brother and his son had disappeared at such an early age and why he couldn't do a damn thing to stop it. More tears dropped onto the carpet.
Author's Note
I owe pascal 40 pence for this commision.
This is rated NSFW for a reason.
Bandwagon Jumping: Not a parody
Some English dude with several ASBO's, restraining orders and mental health sections who keeps changing accents wakes up with oddly specific amnesia in the body of chrysalis. He quickly discovers to his dismay that he has sand in his vagina, everything quickly deteriorates thereon.
Inspired by F**k it I'm having fun
Saw this in the feature box and decided to copy it directly (i'm a hack). As such the main character wakes up in the body of bug horse with a sandy vagina, hilarity and toilet humor ensues.
(For the purpose of passing moderation (no Fun allowed) I'm going to have to point out that the title is meant to be purely self-deprecating and is by no means made to mock said genre of human in X pony's body: it's not a parody.)
Partly inspired by this also (which I strongly recommend) Rejected twice by moderation for being too offensive, it's also chock full of bad grammar, terrible storytelling and awful narrative. You have been warned.
Sounds about right.
Original Description:
F**k it I'm having fun
Saw this in the feature box and decided to copy it directly. As such the main character wakes up in the body of bug horse with a sandy vagina, thus hilarity ensues.
I got banned for this.
Chapter 1: Dive on! we're rolling down hill
Ever had dreams of falling? I'm having one right now actually, can't say it's entirely unpleasant. Drifting through warm air currents watching the odd black dot stray past, I had to admit this was pretty nice. If you've ever been paragliding you'd know what I was on about, it's so peaceful up in the air, so quiet and tranquil. I'm spinning round letting my hooves stretch out in front of me freely, strange dream but the feeling of weightlessness is really realistic I gotta say. Top notch, the stretching land of green far below gradually makes a transition into arid sand and rolling dunes. Here comes the ground, my hooves stretch wide to give it a proper embrace, hello gro-
And then for a while not much of anything happened, no thoughts no feelings, if I had been lucid I'd have commented on how much death sucked, but alas I wasn't really there to experience it now was I? On the otherhand, existence, reality, that felt weird. Moreso than usual actually. When I first started to come to I gradually became aware of a few things, my eyes were closed, my ass itched and I felt fucking awful. Last night must have been awesome. But overall I just felt weird, somewhat displaced and maybe a little bit wrong if that's the right way of wording it, ever get a weird sensation that a limb you own is not actually your limb, it's disconcerting to say the least.
That's how I feel all over. Also did I mention the sweltering heat, or the sick feeling in the pit of my stomach? They played off each other forming a cocktail of nauseousness. Looking back I was totally prepared at that moment to find myself sleeping in a ditch with brain damage, if only I was so lucky.
No the first thing I did was wretch, apart from that and the sizzling of the desert sand it was eerily quiet, just the sound of me dry heaving, choking due to the dryness in my throat. Finally I managed to stop, working up some spit and swallowing desperately for a minuet, never quite feeling like it was enough. It's safe to say that of all the hangovers I've ever had this one was by far the worst, which gives further credit to the idea that last night was the best night, which was bad now because that could only mean one thing. Today was going to be the worst.
I let my head, which felt bloody weird mind you, fall back into the sand, idly noting that I was apparently wearing a wig or something, yeah, a wig, I know right? A fucking wig are you fucking serious!? Right... moving on, well suffice to say I felt like shit, my head seemed to be in the process of being broken down by a industrial wood chipper, I felt the need to throw up, and the blazing heat just compounded everything a thousand times. Jesus Christ I'm dying (and switching perspectives but fuck you I do what I want).
For a while it was apparently a good idea to just lay there panting like a dog, I still hadn't opened my eyes, somewhat hesitant to get up and deal with whatever mess I'd inevitably gotten myself into, but I guess eventually the desire to not die of heat stroke won out over the desire to lay down and die.
Groggily I opened my left eye, right still buried in sand, and took in my surroundings through blurry vision, scan left, scan right right, processing. I was lying in sand. I snorted sending a puff of sand into the air from where my muzzle was buried in the sand, not quite fully comprehending or realizing I had a snout at the time. The thing I did notice however was not the black thing directly in front of my face no, it was my voice when I let out the longest and most miserable groan there was to give. Now my first thought upon hearing my echoy tone was 'wow, I must have gotten really fucked up last night', first impressions being that I ingested some black market shit that was still giving me some kind of morning after auditory hallucinations. I liked it personally, very echoy and strangely feminine.
Then I shakily propped my freakishly long neck up and saw that I was in fact, a horse. at this point I was just staring, no quips, no real thought to as just what the fuck I was looking at. huh, yep.
"huh" I said out loud really rather lost at this point, I suppose the heat really was getting to me.
I beheld my green carapace, connected to a fleshy black body, my ass still itched and I felt really, REALLY weird down below. Gingerly raising a holy hoof I gave an experimental nudge against my side. My eyes shrunk to pinpricks
"OH SHIT!" my head pulled back as if that could somehow escape my new body, face now once again in the sand I look out from the sand dune I was lying on. I was in a desert.
"OH FUCK"
I had sand in my vagina
"OH SHIT" it was itchy.
My limbs splayed out and I found myself braced up against the sand hyperventilating, not really having any fucking clue as to what the hell was going on, and what the fuck was that ringing in my ears... oh I'm screaming like a girl... OH FUCK I AM A GIRL!
I screamed until my throat was raw, not that it already wasn't, then promptly threw my head to the side and vomited a sickly trail of glowing green slop, some of which hit the sand, but most of which ended up in my hair. I stared blankly, muzzle dripping some vile acidic green shit, once again not really knowing what the fuck I was supposed to do at this point.
".....aw ew, fuck it's in my hair" well gotta focus on the solvable problems I suppose, I just can't deal with whatever it is going on right now but I've had plenty of experience getting sick out of my cloths... I think... memories a little bit fuzzy, moving on I dipped my hoof, which I feels so wierd I can't even describe it, it's like having your hand in a cast and touching something with your finger tips, but wearing thick nylon gloves at the same time. Anyway I mushed my hoof, which was covered in holes btw (one problem at a time mate) into the vile mix of half digested crap, wincing as I felt the chunks in the soup getting caught in my hair strands.
I realized I had to hurry before this noxious shit dried up in the desert sun, that would be bad. Very bad. I managed to brush most of it into the sand but my long hair still glowed green in that area, also it had a few bits and pieces (was that a bone?) still stranded in the matted strands of hair. It's these fucking hooves, you can't do shit with them.
I managed to prop myself up and groaned at the pain in my skull, totally not used to heat of any kind, coming from the mild and wet English land of... somewhere or other. I have more pressing matters than the gaps in my memory.
"Why am I a horse" I asked blankly, my voice still fascinating and alien as ever. It was welcome to stay I told myself. yes.... my head really hurt and I felt dizzy. My tongue felt like cotton and quite frankly now that I was moving I realized that everything kinda ached, like really badly, to the point where I didn't recognize the sound of approaching bodies and strange voices until they crested the sand dune.
My head darted towards their four legged forms like a deer caught in a flashlight, three of them in total, they were beige in color, possessing black facial beards below their comically large eyes and hilarious desert getup, like someone had taken a baby horse fetus and dressed it in as an old timey Arab, complete with a large turban, so cute. The white of their desert garb blinded me to the point I had to raise my holy appendage to block the sight, fat lot of good that did.
The middle one stepped forward, his eyes narrowing dangerously "أراك الآن الشيطان، كنت فقدت، خيارا سيئا للمجيء الى هنا يبدو"
My eyes widened. 'aw shit, sand niggers'.
Chapter 2: There are no breaks
My head hurt, somehow even slightly more than before, I felt like i'd been through an industrial wood-chipper.... then burned, then used as fertilizer. Suffice to say I was in great agony and it fucking sucked. But on the bright side at least the sun wasn't mercilessly cooking me, come to think of it I wasn't exactly lying on sand, but rather a warm yet solid metal. Ah, well that explains the discomforting numbness in the side of my face. I groaned in what was a rather pathetically manner as I lifted my head out of the puddle of what I thought was dried drool, mouth now screaming for moisture and a strange coppery taste in my maw.
Head spinning, feeling dizzy, i felt like I had a go at the local club bouncer, as if I had some kind of concussion. I ended up sitting there rebooting myself for nearly a minute, rocking gently back and forth as I took stock of my surroundings, seems I was in a cage, and that puddle of droll wasn''t even droll but rather some kind of green stuff. I couldn't open my right eye. Also my face hurt.
My face hurt alot, shit. Bringing my hoof up I poked at it and yelped, yep that green stuff was apparently my blood, why not, furthermore the right side of my face was badly swollen and a quick probe with my tongue revealed I was missing a fang, bloody things were sharp. Worth noting.
"well shit" I muttered in that wonderful alien voice I liked so much, I got rekt. How the fuck did this happen, all I remember last is... oh now I know what happened. I can vaguely remember indecipherable shouting and brief chase wherein I discovered I didn't know how to walk before being tackled by a vengeful midget and savagely punched repeatedly by a mob of sand niggers. Such fun.
I cradled my head and moaned like a bitch for the duration of the next 10 minuets, not really giving a fuck about my surroundings which consisted of a somewhat rusty cage sat inside a rather spacious tent. Really, for shame, I should stop being so emo. 'so I got rekt, stop whining about it, you have bigger things to worry about' I reminded myself, like the fact that I still had sand in my vagina, and it itched. OH lord did it itch.
Problem is I'm somewhat apprehensive about touching that.. thing, don't ask how I could tell, I hadn't seen it yet but it's just the feeling of sand grains wedged up there, fucking weird man. I really cannot describe to you what it feels like to have tiny granules of sand wedged in and around your vagina, I'm a guy, or at least I was, I think. Can't remember but that's the least of my problems. chief of all being how the fuck do I get rid of the sand because Jesus fuck is it uncomfortable.
Sighing loudly, god I love the sound of my own voice now, I moved my leg aside to get a good look at it, eye widening as I idly noted a few more drops of blood come spilling forth- bigger problems than that. sand, vagina.
Also I needed a drink, like really badly. I'll probably end up passing a stone or some shit at this rate... "my vagina has holes in it too". That's something I never thought I'd be thinking aloud, like seriously, I just never saw it coming, I don't think the sheer absurdity of what I just said can ever really be expressed in words, maybe fucking ridiculous comes close. But yes, it was also covered in sand. I awkwardly rubbed a hoof at it...god that felt weird, double weirdness.....
Well shit, trying to dig sand out of a bodily crevice using a hoof is alot like trying to hobble to the grocery with crutches that have little wheels on the end, I mean you'll get there eventually, probably, but the entire experience just isn't worth the hassle. Come to think of it that nudge just inflamed the problem, it'll probably look pretty bad if those Pakistani's came back and saw me vigorously scratching myself down below trying to get rid of this maddening (and completely non sexual mind you) fucking itch that delved into the core of my being. Yep, that'd end badly, especially if they were anything like the Arabs of my world... not racist. Don't look at me like that you know what they're like.
Anywho I gently bit my swollen lip (which caused more bleeding fuck) and crossed my legs, straightening my long back, generally looking around the room for any convenient distraction, a painting, a shovel, something to muse over because good god I can't stand this feeling... nope seemed pretty bland, nothing to distract me but the sound of the desert wind, flapping of the tent cloth and the sound of sand impacting it.
"Oh fuck me" I muttered under my breath, then paused.... "....Olly olly oxen free?"
"...ha...this is pretty fun actually"
Time passed, maybe half an hour, I couldn't tell in the slightest but I was having fun.
"I see she cells on the- fuck, I see see- dammit!" Holy fuck that is aggravating, frustrations mounting I gave up on that particularly hopleless endeavor, now once again bored, there's only so much you can do with your vocal cords before it gets old, not that I didn't love my voice, cracked and croaky as it was, it was obviously my most prized possession, I should become a lead singer or some shit.
A while ago it had come to my attention shortly after I started singing that I had a large weight on my head that turned out to be a wickedly long curved horn thing, because sure why not? Oh and I had insect wings, awesome. That horn thing also had a couple metal rings fitted onto it, they didn't look like they belonged there, and they just made the weight on my head all the more noticeable when I swung it around, as I was doing so right now.
I attribute the fact I never noticed this massive black thing protruding from my forehead before now due to the fact that I may have been dying of heat stroke, also my hair was in the way, I like the hair... very teal. I like teal. Dark teal.
Moving on.
Now currently I wasn't quite too keen on lamenting on my situation in the slightest, because that would just be a massive killjoy.
Instead for lack of something better to do I began swinging my head around, giggling stupidly at the feeling of having a weight at the end. My matted hair also tickled my face, it smelled vaguely of dead fish. But that didn't matter because I was having fun.
On a whim I began singing along to the tune in my aching skull "nuh nuh na nanaNANAna nanana NANA nanaNA, we are. The Pridody... haha my voice is awesome"
I stopped dead at the sound of the tent cloth being brushes aside, through my hair I could see two midget horse people entering the tent and taking guard on either side, the guy on the left give me a queer look, raising an eyebrow, god these things are fucking cute. I think I'm going to name that guy frank.
Next to frank was a tiny horse with tiny wings tucked against his sides, his face remained a stoic mask of calm, he must be a barrel of laughs and as such I'm naming him Harold.
Anyway Frank and Harold took watch at either side of the... I guess the door, wherein entered another horse that- oh you have got to be shitting me, it's a fucking unicorn. I still had him beat though. I'm winning, yes. What now universe?
So the unicorn that entered had a pretty ugly face with a scar across his muzzle, it looked pretty badass, but the second his adorable eyes found their way to me his face lit up in a predatory grin like a Vatican priest at day care... yea pretty accurate analogy ,I suppose I wouldn't be surprised what with a grin that wide, shit boarders on psychotic. He's just been standing there for a while now. Creepy fucker.
"...Evening?" I asked experimentally, hoping he'd strike up a conversation rather than skip right to the rape fest... come to think of it these guys are pretty small, they'd probably have-
"So that's all you have to say for yourself, ha" he sneered with a voice like gravel, so absolutely and completely opposite to what his body suggested. I'm totally calling him scarface.
Scarface chuckled "Oh how the mighty have fallen, the mighty chrysalis, queen of the eastern swarm, bane of travelers and defiler of hearts..." His grin widened "now look at you" he spat on the floor, wow... scarface was kind of a dick, and unhygienic. "Locked in a cage,defeated and beaten like a dog, what say you now witch"
I stared at him blankly "uh...ok". We sat a while in silence, him clearly expecting more, turns out scarface was a polite and patient man... horse thing, he was waiting patiently for me to give some kind of rebuttal I was never going to give.
His smile dropped ever so slightly, "very well, hide your feelings all you want, I know it's burning you up inside" he still had that condescending grin on his face however.
"...k?" Well this was awkward, creepy motherfucker. He scowled at me as if I had offended him by not being offended, it should have dawned on me right then what I was dealing with, instead I decided to be completely and utterly insolent because fuck the police Mr Scarface, I will find and tilt everything you hold dear.
"Man, you're kind of a dick Mr Scarface" I said as I examined the holes in my hoof, trying to look aloof and embody my inner rebellious teenager to the fullest. Now who's being a dick you tiny midget sand horse.
He scowled dangerously at me, which looked so absolutely adorable oh my god you wouldn't believe it, those fucking eyes man, oh right he's yapping again "SCARFACE?! My name is charlemagne, and I rule ove-"
"Charlie-ma- *pffft*HA-" what followed was basically me loosing my shit, my lungs hurt and I was coughing by the end of it but fucking hell mate if you had seen this little guys tiny face contort, oh Jesus you'd be laughing with me, besides I think the stress was starting to get to me, being trapped in a cage ect, it felt good to loose up all the tension by laughing at this small horse in white getup, no matter if he was probably going to show me the meaning of bad touch later down the road. Mind you he was still a creepy fucker mind you, but an adorable creepy fucker.
When I finally came too his face had formed a line, then he spoke in that contrasting gruff voice that made me want to start giving deep fellatio to a stick wrapped in sandpaper again, or at least that's what it felt like, guess I'd made myself a little... hoarse? huehueh- I'm sorry "You must think me an idiot my dear chrysalis, to think that you can mask you great humiliation from me? ME?" Oh lord was this guy for real?
"Regardless" he continued "I promise you this, before the day is out you will be begging" oh hey look the violent pedo face has made a triumphant return.
At this point I had rolled my eye, blowing a tuft of hair with my mouth which felt kinda nice actually, I like having long hair, getting off topic here so anyway, I was sitting there staring at him in a rather aloof manner, trying rather hard and failing to hide my growing apprehension at the prospect of being inevitably assfucked by this guy, but hey, at least the sad will be dislodged from my vagina, always gotta look on the bright side of life y'know. anyway continuing on I asked him "alright look mr scarface" oh god that adorable little scowl "I honestly don't know what I did to deserve this" I gestured all around me, cassually swinging my head in a wide arc to show how totally not afraid and shitting myself I was, I wasn't, really.
"but if it's alright with you I'd like to skip all these pleasantries and get to the part where you team up with frank and Harold there to show me the meaning of bad touch"
It took him a while but it finally dawned on him and he scoffed at me, "oh don't flatter yourself changeling whore, besides, I am not so dull, you must think of me as some kind of complete dullard, ha" huh guess he doesn't want to rape me... strangely enough he seems to have brightened up, y'know what I count this as a victory. Smiles all round and nobodies getting their sphincters re-sized, everybody wins!
"Now" he grinned whilst closing his eyes condescendingly, ew pedophile, I'm calling it, they probably married kids off at 8 around here, he probably has a harem of prepubescent girls that'd make the Vatican proud... hmmm, the fact that everyone's a baby horse already just makes the entire thing even creepier- look he's talking again "let us talk business" I'm fairly sure he just likes to watch, he's totally going to sit in the corner and fap while frank- what's he doing?
He had turned to a sack frank had pulled from his back, from it he levitated a dusty looking metal cup and a leather-skin canteen... and then it hit me me 'oh fucking hell I need some water really fucking badly', it had just dawned on me that I was probably dying of thirst in the desert heat. I watched as he started pouring the water into cup as if to mock me, which looking back he totally was.
The way his eyes never left me as he brought the water to his lips, the way his grin grew when he drank as if in slow motion, with slow mechanical gulps. It's official, I was dealing with a grade A le ebin troll here.
"you know chrysalis" he started swirling that cup of water around like the fucking asshole he was "you've made me a very, very rich stallion" Oh god what a pompous ass and hey I just realized he keeps calling me chrysalis, plus I apparently have a reputation of some kind. probably a case of mistaking identity but carrying on.
I guess the knob-head must have caught in to the fact that I was thirsty due to the fact that I was molesting the cup with my eyes, vigorously, because he gestured to the water "oh this?" he said with a neigh lecherous grin.
"Oh are you thirsty?" he said with mock pity. No shit sherlock.
"YES,oh god yes, I'm dying here" I kinda just expected him to hand-er hoof it over, but of course that's just my retarded line of thinking.
He threw the cup aside, let me repeat, HE THREW THE CUP ASIDE. My one eye that wasn't too swollen bugged right the fuck out as I watched the water sinking into the sand. Definitely an le ebit troll. Scarface just made my shitlist.
"WHAT THE HELL MAN, ah- you-ugh!" let me put something in perspective, I felt like this little shit had just inserted buttered bread into my Xbox one in the hopes it could act like a toaster, as young kid are apt to do. Don't ask me where that memory came from because I have no clue. That's how thirsty I am right now.
"Oh come now, I'm just being polite, we can't have changeling royalty drinking from a mere commoners cup can we now" I made sure to give the fucker a nasty scowl to express the dissatisfaction I had with his establishment, I would not be returning here for my holidays no sir.
The cunt just chuckled at my dirty looks like the asshole that he was "No I think we can find something more fitting for one of your status than that"
"OK. Common, games over mate, I really don't care just give me a drink... please" I said, my face now somewhat resembling bemused. I was trying not to show how desperate I was for some water but I'm fairly sure I failed miserably anyway. More chuckling , fuck you scarface.
"Oh you disappoint me so Chrissy " I just stared as if he expected that to somehow annoy me, and to be honest i was annoyed just from his tone of voice, because my headache was getting worse and i suspect it was from dehydration. My eyes widened as he levitated a dogie bowl out of the sack frank was holding. Oh I see where this is going, where did he even- why would he have this lying around in the desert?!? No no that's fine, really. Whatever.
Scarface is a creepy mother fucker, did I mention that? I'm sure I mentioned that, he just sat there with this shit eating grin on his face staring right at me as he poured the water into the bowl, le master ruseman indeed.
I don't think I can deal with this shit and not loose my temper, I mean I'm a childish asshole but this guy takes it to a whole nother level.
"Oh common man, don't be dick about it, just, give'is the fukin water sack thing"
I imagined him to be twirling his mustache when he said "I'm not sure you want a drink"
My eyes bugged out... again, apparently we're going to be doing this.
The look I gave him must have been pretty nasty by the way his face somehow seemed to light up like a kid being given a new console game and what is with these random memories? I digress, scarface is 'aving a giggle' again.
"I do, I want a drink, REALLY" More bemused annoyance, sounds so much better in echo flavor. But I digress, Mr scarface seemed to be having some kind of epileptic fit, because he was nearly shaking, OK that was probably my imagination, but he was still pretty ecstatic when he asked me to "get on your stomach and beg"
I gave him, well I don't really know how to describe it, exasperated, vaguely annoyed, I'm calling it my 'REALLY?' face.
"Are... are we really going to do this? REALLY?"
He scoffed again "Mmmm no, I do not feel as though you are thirsty, I could come back in a couple hours if you'd like" he raised his hoof as if to kick the dish.
"NO!" As you can see my negotiation skills are just stunning "l-lets not be too hasty n-" he knocked the metal with his hoof spilling a small portion as if in slow motion, I'm kinda ashamed of how fast I started lowering myself but have I mentioned what it feels like to be dying of thirst? Yea it fucking sucked, dignity comes second mate... not that I'm the type who values dignity in the first place "OK OK look, look i'm doing it, I'm on the floor, can I please have some water"
"Oh Chrissy, how you disappoint me so, I've never met royalty so eager prostrate themselves before a commoner for something so simple as water, nor anything really" oh my god you knob head stop waffling on an just-
"Look at you, Oh how the might have fallen, brought so low by me, Charlemane" more evil laughter followed but I quickly noticed a disturbing lack of liquid bliss. Dammit scarface don't you dare gyp out of your end of the bargain, that just wouldn't be classy, not to mention the fact it'd go against every convention of cartoonish villainy. Come to think of it I think he'd look particularly dashing twirling his mustache and tying fair maidens to railroad tracks.
Now I mentioned this before but it bares repeating, I'm sure he took great delight in my frustration, probably sexual delight, kind of like that fat kid that keeps making up stupid rules on the spot so he always wins the game, and you have to put up with it least he tell your mother that you were in fact the one who stole the toaster from the school kitchens and blamed it on some autistic kid... Damn, these memories right? Hey don't look at me like that, he wouldn't leave me alone alright? I was totally justified.
"Here, take a drink you worm" he magiked the thing partially into the cage and kicked it forward, spilling nearly all of it across the warm metal, I'd totally be licking that up after he left. Was it shameful that I dove on it before it had come to a stop? Whatever because I felt so much better, after I finished on the bowl I ended up licking the rest from the floor right in front of my jailers, it was completely worth it to watch his triumphant leer turn into utter confusion and a raised eyebrow as his prisoner looked him right in the eye and shamelessly licked and slurped water off a dirty metal plate that tasted vaguely of piss but who the fuck cares I was no longer dehydrated whoo!!
After a finial long lick I ended with a sigh of satisfaction, best fucking piss stale liquid I ever did drink off the floor that was. And now we were left with the awkward situation of me sitting there quite satisfied, I liked to think I denied him some sort of victory, made me giddy. God I can't tell you how great it is not to be dehydrated anymore.
"d-did you enjoy your it?" he asked unsure as if afraid even.
"Fuck yea I did, best vaguely stale piss tasting fluid I've ever drank mate, better than what they serve at me local pub in any-case" there was definitely a pub somewhere in my past life that served beer full of rat piss, anyway I'm pretty sure I had a shit eating grin on my face, hard to tell because half of it was swollen and I didn't have a mirror, I really needed a mirror,When I caught a glimpse the distorted reflections I saw in the doggie dish fascinated me to no end, Oh and speaking of which....
I leaned over and inspected myself on the oval piece of metal, experimentally gnashing my teeth and alternatively making funny faces, because hell what else was I supposed to do, sit around waiting for some asshole to try and le ruse me? The hole where that guy knocked my tooth out felt weird when I ran my tongue over it
"Did you hit your head? what, I, what is wrong with you?!?"
I sat up to address his question "Ye" I answered simply in reply to his first question. As for the second? Who the fuck knows, you'd have to choose one thing in particular. Was it that I liked to spontaneously switch accents? Maybe my love of tilting paintings? That was always fun.
He looked like he was going to mutter something so I cut him off "I love tilting paintings"
He stared, I smiled, he scowled. It might not be the most wise course of action but damn was it the funniest.
"Do not think I am not wise to what you are doing Chrysalis" Oh my what am I doing now?
"Oh? and-a what would that'da be?"
"You think you can fool me insect! I made you beg, It is I who am in control here, not you"
I'd already went back to admiring my dashingly good horseish looks, aside from the swelling and green patches, I looked pretty badass truth be told. "...k" I said absent minded but purposely making a show of fondling my hair in the makeshift mirror as wymen are apt to do, such a strong and independent black women was I that I didn't even need a fuckin mirror. Innovation.
"I am the victor here, need I remind you that you sit there bloodied and beaten before my hooves, me, Charlemane!"
"Yea you keep telling yourself that mate" clearly this chucklefuck did not know how to win arguments with strong and independent black wymen, for one I remained un-backhanded, hell if he really wanted to win all he'd have to do is thread a hook through my vagina and hang me from the rafters, that'd sure show me what for, how dare I question the white man. break out the whips too, extra racism.
Jesus fuck there was still sand in my vagina, why is there still sand in my vagina. He looked like he was going to speak again so I cut him off without any real clue as to what I was talking about "when one of you has to take a shit do you like go out into the sand and just bury it?"
"wha-"
"Like if you were a winner I'm fairly sure you wouldn't be doing that, what do you even wipe with?"
"..."
"I can sympathize, when I was a kid I snuck in and took a dump in my neighbors yard, and I had to use leaves but ended up getting a nasty rash on my ass because I used the wrong-"
"STOP! What is wrong with, no, I will not fall for your deceit, I have already won and I will be made rich beyond comprehension for bringing you to justice, now would you please shut-"
"-So after a while it turned purplish blue and itched like crazy for weeks and-"
"Have you no shame you whore!?"
"Nigger I am a strong and independent black wymn, shame is beneath me"
I'm starting to think sir scarface was one of the good guys judging by the distinct lack of backhanding and rape going on, he did say he was going to bring me to justice after all.
"You have lost your marbles woman" His voice was strained, better go push him over the edge for shits and giggles.
"bitch how else am I going to plead insanity" He might have went in the huff, oh god that adorable little mostly imagined pout, wait where- aw he left, just as we were becoming such good friends, definitely in the huff. Look at him throwing a little temper tantrum aw, speaking in foreign languages. So cute, I'm so smug right now you wouldn't even believe it. I nearly started doing a little victory dance even.
And then he came back through the door with two big guys in toe. Well shit, here comes the part where my colon gets turned inside out, it's probably comical how my entire body just deflated at the sight of those hulking muscles and how hard they'd probably take turns punching me savagely again and again in the asshole, no lube. I guess I vaguely realized I had this coming but meh, I can't really bring myself to care, or at least that's what I'd like to tell myself, I mean, I personally like my the current parameters of my bodily orifices. Y'know what? I'm blaming this entire escapade on brain damage and prior drug experimentation.
I opened my mouth to ask where the bathroom was but scarface cut me off " I have had enough of this madness, take her" he gesture to this huge... holy balls is that a Minotaur? ya it's a Minotaur, two of them. Why am I hyperventilating, oh look they're opening the gate oh look they're shit SHIT SHIT-
Author's Note
Still not a parody.
