So Far...

Dash and I parted for the day as usual, I try to find a job and she tries to do hers while maximizing downtime. I headed for town like always, along the cobblestone and sand path from the lake to town square, where maybe I could find myself a new job. Once I got to town square I sat at the base of the marble fountain of Celestia and scanned around me for any possible employers.

“Excuse me sir, but do you know where I can find Dr. Whooves?”

I looked up to find a stallion with a dark blue mane, face concealed behind a map, asking me passively.

“No I’m sorry I don’t know him. I haven’t been here for very long.”

“A tourist then? Ok I’ll be on my way then.” He said, turning away.

“Well no I live with Rainbow but I just don’t know Dr. Whooves, we haven’t really met.”

He froze and turned his head away from his map and looked at me. He was a pale blue stallion with a dark blue spikey mane, very similar to Rainbow’s except the grain was moving the other direction. His cutie mark was a white two-tiered lightning bolt, with a wing extending back from the top tier.

“Rainbow, as in Rainbow Dash?” he said, partially shocked. “You live with her?”

“Well yes, we’re uhh… very good friends and I don’t have a house of my own because I’m in a bit of a time-space predicament.”

“Oh well sounds like you are a pretty cool colt… or… human I think. You should totally meet some of my friends. Name’s Soarin, by the way.”

“Arthur. Where are they at?”

“Here, follow me” he said. He led me to a parking lot behind Sugarcube Corner and hopped on his motorcycle, putting on a helmet and a black leather jacket.

“Well, you coming on?” he asked, a bit impatiently but mostly coaxingly. I smiled and hopped on. Why a Pegasus would need a motorcycle, I haven’t the slightest clue. But he’s Soarin. He is filthy rich and famous. Why not? We drove down a mostly straight road for a good 10 minutes, far enough to not be in the vicinity of Ponyville yet still we were surrounded my shops and houses. I assumed we were in a satellite city of Ponyville.

“Here we are” he said excitedly as we arrived at a wooden building with a neon sign that said “Fetlock’s Folly”. He parked the motorcycle and hopped off, removing his clothing.

“So what is this place?”

“Oh, just a bar I like to go to. You should really check it out.”

I went in and instantly I was greeted with that familiar smell… or rather stench of alcohol. I scanned around the room. It was a rather big room, with a bar in the middle, surrounded on all sides by bar stools mounted on metal poles, with café tables and chairs around the perimeter, and stripper poles in a corner.

“Yep.” I stated. “This is a bar alright.”

“Yeah, the guys are over there.” He pointed to the corner farthest from the strippers with his forehoof. “I know you’re probably relieved the strippers are out of sight.” He chuckled a bit.

“Well this whole thing with horses is a bit awkward, if you know what I mean, and horse sluts aren’t exactly a comforting prospect to ponder about.”

“Fair enough” he said, right as we got to our table.

“Soarin!”

“Hey Soarin!”

“Long time no see!”

A cry rung out from the table we arrived at.

“Who’s the new… thing?”

“Arnie, Tornado; this is my new friend… what was it, Arthur?”

“Well hey there, Arthur!” Tornado Alley said in a brash, gravelly voice, which sounded like he constantly had to cough really badly.

“Hi…” I replied shyly. I sat down next to Soarin, across the table from Arnie and Tornado.

“How’d you meet him?”

“Oh earlier today I met him in Ponyville, he says he’s friends with Rainbow Dash!”

“Rainbow?” Exclaimed Tornado. “That mare from the young fliers competition 3 months ago?”

“That’s the one!” replied Soarin. "Heh Torn,  you know Rainbow Dash? If we were together, we'd make a Sonic Rainboom sound like a whisper...if ya know what I mean."

Arnie and Torn started laughing, Torn especially so, banging his mug of cider against the table. I shot an angry look at Soarin.

“What’s wrong, Arthur?”

“Someone got to her first…”

“Well, who?”

“I did.” I said with exaggerated anger. I wasn’t really angry at Soarin, but I just decided to play off the situation and hopefully incite some drama to my advantage.

Soarin looked at me with a stunned look on his face. “Oh, dude I’m sorry, I didn’t know you two were like that” he said sincerely.

“Excuse me sir, would you like something to drink?”

I turned around and noticed a pretty darn ugly purple mare smoking a cigarette with a round tray full of empty glasses.

“No ma’am, I won’t be having anything tonight.”

“Why not?” Asked Soarin.

“Well I don’t really have any money and-“

With that, Soarin slapped down on the table a 100 bit coin. “Pick up his tab for the rest of the night” he ordered the mare. “Oh, and get the gentlecolt a glass of zap apple cider.”

“Can I see some ID?”

Since I wasn’t born in Equestria, I didn’t have an ID, nor any way to register my age with no documents.

“Well you see ma’am…” Soarin began. “He is not a pony, as you can tell, and therefore he is not given an ID.”

“Ah well, they can’t sue me if I don’t serve it to a minor pony” she said with a raspy voice and walked away, snatching the money and writing something down.

“Oh! AND BRING ME THE USUAL!” he shouted, and the mare nodded. “So…” Soarin said, nudging me with his elbow. “Are we cool?”

“Yeah.” I said contently. Soarin smiled at me and started talking to Arnie about Fleetfoot; something about her asymmetrical inner feathers.

“Here you go, sir.” The ugly mare said again. She pushed a mug of rainbow colored liquid to me.

“Aw hell no I’m not drinking any more rainbow!”

“No no no, don’t worry, it’s just zap apple cider!” Soarin said, laughing a bit at the end.

I took a sip, and I cringed at the feeling of the zap apple cider in my throat. If there was such a feeling as drinking a toaster, that was pretty much it.

“Hah!” exclaimed Soarin. “You look like you just drank a toaster!”

“Pretty much” I said, coughing a bit, and drinking some more. It tasted pretty good. It just felt like while you were drinking it you were being raped by an elephant. A worthy sacrifice I guess.

“And here you go sir” the ugly mare said, suddenly appearing before us, sliding a hot 14” in diameter pie to an eager Soarin.

“Psst!” whispered Tornado, handing me an item under the table. It was a short white small cylinder with a crease in the middle; a pill. Without much thought I popped it in my mouth. Tornado facehoofed and laughed at me, handing me another. “Stick this in Soarin’s pie!” He whispered. “It’ll be funny!”

I was all for a good joke, so I stuck it in as Soarin was readying his utensils, only to immediately drop them and slam his face into one end of the pie, munching loudly.

“OM NOM NOM… Cherry pie. MY FAVORITE!” he announced with a full mouth, sending bits of wet crust flying across the table, hitting Arnie in the forehead. Under normal circumstances he would have probably decked him in the face, but he just wiped it off and grinned. He was in on the prank too too. I felt funny.

I noticed a bulge growing in my pants. I wasn’t turned on by anything… nothing much to be turned on by in here anyway. The strippers were hidden behind the bar and I wasn’t looking in that direction anyway. It just kept growing and wouldn’t go away. I felt embarrassed a bit and tried to hide myself in my zap apple cider.

“Umm… why is this happening?” asked Soarin. I turned to see his pie levitating a good foot above the table. I also noticed it wasn’t floating in the air, but held up… by a long light blue pole…

Tornado and Arnie were absolutely laughing their balls off at this point, banging their faces against the table and even crying a bit. Soarin’s face was plastered in red as he tried to hide his member, but by now it was too late and it wouldn’t bend under.

“What are you trying to do there, Soarin?” asked Arnie, holding back giggles and tears.

I ran to the bathroom, holding a menu around my waist. I don’t think anyone noticed me; the spotlight was on Soarin. I ran into the first stall, locking the door.

Once I finished I unlocked the door, hoping to get out, only to be met by a charging Soarin, who not even noticing me, rammed through the door, knocking me over. With sweat flying from his mane, he rammed his sausage into the pie, gasping, and sending cum flying all over the walls and giving the pie a new filling.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there” he said, slightly blushing. “Now who the heck made it snow in this stall? Oh well, can’t let this fine pie go to waste…” he said, as he started to devour the pastry, at first trying to avoid the splooge but eventually give up and just eating the whole thing, smacking his lips and licking his forehooves. “You know, you’re a pretty cool guy. Maybe we can have you join the Wonderbolts…”

“How would that work? I don’t fly!”

“I know… Here come with me!” he said excitedly, waddling out of the stall with a limp. I followed him just out of curiosity, but also likely because being a Wonderbolt would seriously impress Rainbow.

*

We drove up all the way to Canterlot, a good 30 minutes away opposite of the direction to Ponyville, behind a chain-link fence heavily patrolled by guards. Soarin was stopped at an outpost, but he flashed his ID and was given the clear. By now it was late evening and the sky was dark blue, but the compound was well lit and coated in hangars. Soarin drove his motorcycle into one, it appeared to be the hangar belonging to him and a few other Wonderbolts, because there were 4 sets of uniforms hanging on racks.

“Alright, it’s right there” Soarin said, pointing to a corner of the hangar that seemed to be his. It had flattering pictures of Rainbow Dash, Spitfire, and most of all… lots and lots of pies. It wouldn’t be so disturbing if I didn’t envy his living quarters. I still wonder how he got Spitfire to pose for those pictures of her…

“Here it is…” he said, pulling out a pipe-like device from under his bed. “It’s a jet engine that is strappable to one’s back to create propelled flight. Something some of the other Wonderbolts invented and I’ve been hiding. We call it… A Packjet!”

“Why… did you all make that?”

“At first we thought it would make us go faster. It did, but we couldn’t nearly push all the controls at once with just two hooves to have any agility. However, you have 10 fingers, which can be a huge advantage in the operation.”

“So you’re saying if I am able to control this, I can join the Wonderbolts?”

“Heck, if you can control this to its full extent, you will outperform us!”

“How’s it work?” I asked, trying to conceal my giddiness as best I could.

“Well, this doohickey here is the “on” button, this panel here is the avionics, this phallic object is the rudders, this other phallic object is the trim, and this last phallic object is just there because it looks cool…”

Soarin explained to me the controls as best he could, after which I strapped on the packjet, and pushed the on button. Not surprisingly, it flew right off the cowling, darted around the hangar, and shot right into the ground, exploding into a ball of flame, sending Soarin head over heels into a wall, twisting one of his legs in the process.

“Gaaaaah!” Soarin screamed, loud enough to send every Wonderbolt in surrounding hangars to see what the commotion was about.

“Is everything ok in here?” Rapidfire asked, soon to have his own question answered by the burning wreck in the center of the hangar and Soarin leaning against the wall holding his right hind leg.

“I think I may have hurt myself…” Soarin said with a voice of concern and embarrassment.

The team medic stepped forward and poked Soarin’s leg.

“GAAAAAAH!” he yelled again.

“Yep. He hurt himself.” The medic said.

“How bad?” Questioned Spitfire.

“Beats me. Just have him rest for a week or two and he should be better.”

“What?” I asked. “He obviously sprained his… whatever joint horses have between their legs and their hooves. If you elevate it and put ice on it it will be better 3 times as fast.”

“Where did you learn that?” asked Spitfire, with even more question in her voice.

“School. We learn that stuff.”

She gave a puzzling eye at the team medic. “Are you sure you’re qualified?” She asked condescendingly.

“Hey, I’m all you’ve got” said the medic just as condescendingly.

“Not anymore. Welcome Arthur to the team. You’re our new official medic!”

I could barely contain my excitement as I was handed an official Wonderbolts uniform, even though it is clearly designed for a pony, it was still an honor. I could always have Rarity restitch it later. Elated, I almost flew back to Ponyville. But then I accidentally gravity.

“So…” Spitfire’s attention suddenly turned to Soarin. “Mind explaining this?” she asked, holding in her mouth a picture of herself in the shower.

Author’s Note

I meant for “But then I accidentally gravity” to be grammatically incorrect…