Balletomane
by Nom deCheval
“Stupid...pants!”
She struggled, shifting and twisting as she did her best to work her way into the thin fabric. It was tough enough to do this without having to worry about claws ripping anything, but each time she felt a snag or a tug, Gilda had to relax and let her grip release on the cloth. At the moment, the cloth was refusing to obey her whims. It felt like she was losing, and she didn’t like to lose.
“Stupid...stupid...pants!!”
It wasn’t helping that the pants were, in fact, tights. Stretchy tights that fit her like a second skin--back when she was in flight school. She and Rainbow Dash had decided that it would be a good laugh to take a few dance classes with some of the more feminine students at the time. Or, as she called them, the “girly dweebs.”
Of course, that was more than a few years ago. And more than a few pounds, too.
“Not gonna...let some...stupid pants...beat me!”
Her claws gripped the tights on either side as she saddled herself into them, shifting her weight from one leg to the other as she pulled them up inch by inch, trying to get them up over her feline flank. She took a single claw, running it around the edge of the tights, trying to guide them up as she pulled. The flesh was giving, but not completely forgiving, pushing the limits of the once tight, and now too tight, leggings.
Resorting to the last, desperate measure she did what any female would do: she hopped. The flesh of her behind jiggled as she let gravity assist her in stuffing every bit of it into the bright pink fabric.
With a loud snap, the tights burst past the cushiony curves of her posterior, finally filling the pants up all the way to the waist.
“Yes!” Gilda beamed. “I knew I could still fit in this thing.”
A couple of awkward steps later, with her feeling the cloth riding up on her in every conceivable way, found Gilda standing in front of a mirror, giving herself a good once-over. It wasn’t something that she would ever admit out loud, but she always kind of liked the way that she looked in this outfit. Pink tights and top, with a frilly frou-frou tutu poofing out around her waistline.
It was hardly the look of a tough, no-nonsense griffin.
Yet, it did hug her body tightly, and she caught Rainbow looking at her with a certain expression several times in class. Maybe that’s why she stuck with it longer than the joke went on? Or maybe she just liked being a little bit girly at times. If anyone ever accused her of that, though, she would rip them a new one!
Nonetheless, when she saw Rainbow Dash tonight at the Nightmare Night party here in Ponyville, she knew that she would get that same look again. The whole ballet outfit was still nice and snug, and would sure to get a bunch of memorable laughs from her old friend--and maybe a few lingering looks. She turned, and realized that her old outfit might be a little too snug in some places, actually. She wanted to look sexy, not...overstuffed. She twisted and shifted, trying to get the fabric to stop riding up between her cheeks as gracefully as possible. Pulling fabric out of your ass with a claw just isn’t a good look.
She heard a laugh rush past her window and quickly turned, her eyes wide and a snarl starting to form on her face. It was just a group of kids, fillies and colts both, on their way to find some candy.
“Nightmare Night! What a fright! Give us something sweet to bite!” she heard the familiar chant from a couple of doors down.
Thankfully, no pony was going to hit her up for candy here at her room at the Mare-iott. It was going to be tough enough just walking through this town of ponies just to go find Rainbow Dash and show her exactly what she was throwing away when she chose those other friends over her. Did those ponies have these same long, feline lines?
Turning to look at herself in the mirror, she noticed that her hips weren’t exactly the long, feline look she was used to seeing.
“Too many possums,” she griped. “Those things are way too fatty. Need to cut back.” She clenched in her cheeks, hoping to reveal a much thinner profile. Nothing happened. Doing it again, she saw only a slight shift in the shape of her rump. She shook her head violently. “What the hell? Gilda, stop talking like your own of those dweebs! You’re a lean, sexy beast! These dweeb ponies aren’t ready for a predator like you!”
With a huge sway of her hips she strode towards the door of her room with a leonine prowl. She had no idea how much the frills of the tutu took off an edge to that, though.
Out the door and six steps out onto the streets of Ponyville and Gilda had already encountered two vamponies, a Daring Doo, a scary clown, a funny manticore, four junior Wonderbolts, and not a single hesitation about a griffin dressed in a tutu. Her breath finally fully left her chest at about the same time that she realized she had been holding it in.
Relaxing her shoulders a little bit, Gilda began walking through the streets, heading towards the center of town, keeping a watchful eye out for a particular blue pegasus. Which meant, by nature, her eyes kept going up, keeping her from seeing anything low--and running.
The young filly slammed into her at a dead sprint, startling Gilda and knocking herself to the ground. A few short steps backwards and Gilda looked down at her assailant. A happy youngster with a bright green coat and a brilliant pink tutu, who smiled, jumped up and started to run past again.
“Nice costume, lady!” she shouted before Gilda really got a chance to respond.
“I...” Gilda watched her run off with the energy and excitement of youth. “Nice kid,” she finally muttered to herself.
“Woah! Hehe.”
Turning around slowly, Gilda’s eyes locked with those of a chestnut stallion who was standing behind her, leaning against the wall of a nearby building. He wasn’t wearing any sort of costume at all. Her eyes closed halfway, angling in as her voice took on a sharp edge.
“What was that?” she growled.
“Nothing! Just...two ballerinas,” he half-laughed. “Not identical, mind you. I mean, been a few years for you, huh? Not quite the same slim dancer body anymore.”
Gilda’s tongue ran along the edge of her upper beak.
“I mean,” the stallion swallowed, his hoof rubbing behind his right ear, “no pony stays young forever, right? We all put on a few pounds here and there.”
She took a step towards him. “Did you just call me fat?”
“No! No, no! You’re very... Well, you have great lines,” he smiled. “I’m sure that those tights have shrunk since you first got them.”
“Shrunk?” She stepped up to him even as he pulled away. “Which is another way of saying that they are too tight on me, right?” She brought a claw up and pointed it at the pony’s face. “You got a problem with my costume, dweeb?”
“I...I...” he stumbled backwards, falling through a door that he forced open. Gilda followed him inside.
“Let me tell you something, dweeb,” she stalked into the room after him, “I’ve had many a fine stallion AND mare admire me in this outfit. Just because you don’t have taste, doesn’t mean squat!”
“I wasn’t saying that. I was just looking at--” He scrambled to regain his footing, but found something blocking his way.
“My ass?” Gilda swung it around pressing it against the stallion, keeping him on the ground. “Well go ahead and get a good look! A dweeb like you probably has to sneak peeks wherever he can!”
The soft globes pressed against the side of his face as he tried his best to turn away from the assault. He closed his eyes, but couldn’t help but feel the smooth texture of the tights as Gilda pressed herself onto him, shifting from side to side along his neck.
“I...I’m sorry!” he shouted. “I didn’t mean anything. Your butt was just...”
“Choose your next word carefully, dweeb!” Gilda snarled.
“It was so big!” He opened his eyes, his pupils shrinking to dots as his own words ran through his mind. “Wait, let me--”
“BIG?!” She slammed back against him. “Did you just call my ass big? Did? You?” With each question she pulled back and pressed into him once more, moving up to firmly strike the side of his face with her rump--and each time she did it put a little more strain on the already stretched fabric.
“I didn’t mean...that in a bad...way,” he answered between smooshes.
“Yeah, cause ladies just LOVE to hear their ass called ‘big’ by dweebs like you!” Gilda continued the offensive against the stallion’s face, pendulously pushing her posterior into him again and again.
“No,” he tried to interrupt. “No, just...give me a...chance to...”
The loud sound of fabric ripping filled the room.
“...explain.”
Gilda froze. Her body locked in mid-push, still pressing against the stallion’s face.
“GRAAAAHHH!” She screeched, her wings flying out, slamming the door to the room shut tightly. She was spinning around trying to get a good look at her tights, but not finding the right perspective. As a result, she kept turning in place, circling repeatedly as she tried to get the best view.
“Tell me you did not rip my tights!” she bellowed. “Tell me there isn’t a tear in them!”
“I...I...I...” he stammered.
She brought her claw around, feeling the smooth cloth covering her backside--up to a point. Her eyes grew huge.
“You did,” her voice dropped to a loud whisper. “You tore my damned tights. After all that work...”
“I didn’t...” he was still at a loss for words.
“What the hell do you call this?!” She turned again, putting her ass directly in front of the pony’s face once again. This time, there was no cloth between the two.
“Quite a view?” he answered weakly.
“Oh, you want a view? I’ll give you a view! A close-up!” She slammed her haunches backwards, driving her ass down onto his face, his muzzle completely enveloped between her cheeks.
Reflexively, he jerked backwards, his hooves failing him completely as he slid onto his back.
“You ain’t getting away that easy!” Gilda shuffled backwards, her claws grabbing his hind legs as she settled down to sit on his chest. He felt her weight fall onto him, making it somewhat difficult for him to breathe--or so he thought.
“All right you little dweeb,” Gilda chided as her ass shimmied back and forth, inching its way towards his face, “this time you’re gonna get the extended close-up!”
One quick shift and her butt went from chest to face in an instant. The stallion might have thought that he was having trouble breathing with her on his chest, but with her ass directly on his face he discovered that his air was totally cut off.
“Aw yeah,” Gilda purred as she wiggled down onto his muzzle. “How’s that ass looking now? Is it too big for you?”
A muffled cry was the only answer she got, but it was the exact one she wanted to hear. She laughed quietly as she clenched her cheeks together around his face. “What was that? Couldn’t quite hear you, dweeb.”
She pulled up, raising her butt off of him in a short quick motion. Immediately, he gasped for air, filling his lungs completely. And as soon as she heard him take in a second breath, she pushed herself back down onto his face.
“I guess you don’t have much to say, do you, dweeb?” she taunted him as he once again muttered something incomprehensible into her soft flesh.
Gilda licked her beak, as she shifted to and fro, trying to press his nose completely up her crack. As she did so, a realization washed over her--a wet realization.
“Holy crap,” she mumbled. “You work pretty damn well as an ass toy, dweeb.”
Once again he muttered an unrecognizable sound, still trying to find a passage to air. Letting go of his legs, Gilda shifted backwards, pressing her full weight down onto his face.
“Okay, let’s negotiate,” she said with a growl. “I’ve got you down and out. And you, being a pony, have a pretty damn long tongue. So here’s the deal, you put that tongue to use, and I’ll give you a chance for some air.” She lifted up again, and he gasped in a quick breath, but only just, as she once again planted herself down onto his face. “Nightmare Night! What a fright! Here is something sweet to bite! Get busy!”
She held herself there patiently, letting her full weight cover him, waiting for his response. It didn’t take long.
Soft and wet, she felt the stallion’s tongue brush against her puckered anus. A low rumble built deep inside Gilda’s chest as she felt the action repeat.
“Oh yeah,” she said as she shifted her weight forward, letting a small stream of air find it’s way to the stallion’s nose. “You keep doing that and you’re gonna have yourself a very sweet surprise.”
His tongue pushed out, licking and teasing around her tailhole. She shifted back and forth in rhythm to his administrations, and then she felt him push inside.
“Aw yeah!” She reared up, her wings pushing out to the side. “You get that tongue in there! Fuck my ass with your tongue, dweeb!”
He did just that. His tongue burrowed further inside her loosening asshole, and with each thrust Gilda snarled a little deeper. Her claws pulled back, finding their way between her legs, searching for her dripping sex. They grazed over her clit, hard and exposed from between her pouting lower lips, causing a sudden intake of her breath and making her look down--at a rather surprising sight.
The stallion’s cock had fully unsheathed and was pulsing in the air and against his body.
“Holy fuckballs!” she gasped. “Are you really that turned on? What, are you just a sick little asslicker, is that it?” She pushed back against his face, and he thrust his tongue up into her harder than ever. “Damn if you aren’t!” She licked her beak. “Well, I think that I might be able to give you a bit of a reward for your efforts.” She bucked against him. “If you don’t stop! You hesitate sticking that tongue up my ass for even a second and I’m done, got me?”
She felt his head nodding between her cheeks, bringing a smile to her face.
Gilda kept her claws between her legs, still teasing around her sex and clit, unwilling to move them, but she had other means to follow through with her plan. Snaking its way around her body, she let the tufted end of her tail brush across the head of the pony’s throbbing cock.
Deep and low, a groan came up from under her ass. She smiled and let her tail trace up along the full length of the pony’s shaft. Following the same path back, her tail paused briefly at the head once more, a sound somewhere between playful laugh and predatory snarl issuing from Gilda, just before she wrapped the whole of her tail around the dick completely.
Slowly she squeezed it, like a constrictor suffocating its prey. Unlike that snake, she also began to shift her tail up and down the length of it.
“Aw yeah. Bet you’ve never had a griffin tail-job before, huh? With a talented tongue like that, you deserve it, though. You keep working that mouth muscle in my ass, and I’ll make sure you get your just reward.”
He could say nothing in response--nor did he want to. His tongue was completely occupied, doing what it could to violate Gilda’s ass. He could feel it clamp down on him as he pulled out, and then open again as he pressed inside. Like most ponies, his tongue was long and thick, and spread her tailhole open wide with each thrust.
And with every thrust, Gilda pulled on his dick. Her tail wound around the complete length of the pony’s cock, relaxing and tugging in time with the thrust of his tongue. Gilda was just as busy with her claws, rubbing over her engorged clit in perfect time with both other actions.
Gilda started to thrust back, slamming her hindquarters into the stallion’s face unrelentingly. To his credit, he kept his tongue out, as rigid as possible, as the griffin began to fuck her own ass with it. Her claws now firmly on her clit, she was working herself--and her stallion--ever so much closer to climax.
“SKRAAAAAWW!!” Gilda screeched as her head thrust up towards the ceiling. For weeks afterward, the children of Ponyville told the tale of the banesidhe that escaped into town on Nightmare Night, its baleful scream trying to steal the souls of anyone who came near it. They all heard it. It was loud and frightening. A truly primal scream.
The stallion did his best to scream, also, only to have it muffled between the soft cushions of Gilda’s ass. Stream after stream of cum pulsed out of his cock, falling onto his own belly--as well as a little bit of Gilda’s thigh and claws.
“Fuck!” Gilda panted, her chest heaving as the world pulled back together around her. “Fuck, yeah!”
Looking down at her claw, she brought it up to her beak and let her tongue press out and lick the sticky residue off of it. A quick swipe of a single claw got the rope of jizz that was trying to make it’s way off of her leg, which she also licked clean. A heavy breath fell from her chest, followed immediately by a short, happy one.
“Not bad, dweeb,” she smiled. “Not bad at all.”
There was no answer. She suddenly realized that she had been sitting fully on his face--and she didn’t know how long.
“Aw fuck!” She leapt up, spinning around with wide eyes.
The stallion lay there, his tongue lagging out to one side of his mouth, a ridiculous smile on his face, and a steady rise and fall of his chest to show his breathing.
“Whew!” Gilda brushed the back of her claw across her forehead. And then she started to laugh. She bent down and propped the stallion up against the nearby wall. “You know what, you’re okay. Yeah, you’ve still got some dweeby qualities, but, hey, not everyone can be as cool as me. Still, you’re okay.”
She patted his cheek with her claw. He stared ahead blankly, a goofy grin still plastered across his face.
“Okay, you take the rest of the night off. You earned it,” Gilda said, standing up beside him. She reached around and felt the huge tear in the back of her tights. It had grown considerably during the sex.
“You know what,” she said to herself, “I think I’m gonna leave it. Maybe another pony will say something to me about it, and get themselves a real face full of trouble!” She nodded slowly. “And maybe--just maybe--that pony might be Rainbow Dash herself. Aw yeah.”
Turning around, she padded towards the door, exiting onto the streets of Ponyville with a quick swish of her tail and a more than slightly exaggerated sway of her ass.
THE END
