Payback: A Real Pain in the Rear

Sweetie groaned and rolled over. The uneven boards of the clubhouse floor scraped and poked her shoulder.

“I need to go to the bathroom” she mumbled, slowly getting to her feet and struggling to keep her backside clenched.

“I need to go throw up” Apple Bloom added, wiping her lips and tongue on the sleeve of her t-shirt.

“I need to go to the doctor” Scootaloo whimpered, clutching her broken arm.

Silently, in unison, the three put their disheveled clothing back to sorts. Apple Bloom winced as she pulled her jeans up over a very sore bottom. Scootaloo’s torn panties and broken arm made it especially uncomfortable for her to cover herself. Sweetie gingerly pulled her panties up and straightened out her skirt, trying to ignore the gurgling sound of her (still very full) plumbing.

Eventually, all eyes turned to the magazine, still laying inconspicuously on the floor in the middle of the room. Reluctantly, Sweetie walked over to it and picked it up. She sighed heavily and turned to her friends.

“Look...I’m so SO sorry, girls. It was my idea, and it’s totally my fault--”

“What’s all yer fault, Sugarcube?”

Startled by the unexpected voice, the three turned to see Applejack standing in the doorway to the clubhouse. She took one look at their expressions and overall condition, and gasped in alarm.

“What in the tarnation have you girls been up to this time?” she hollered, running up to Sweetie Belle to help stop the bleeding on her temple. Caught flat-footed, Sweetie didn’t have time to do anything about the magazine. For better or worse, AJ was entirely focused on the wound, so she didn’t notice when Sweetie slowly slid her hand -- and the smoking gun behind their mischief -- behind her back.

“I’m uh..I’m fine, really.” Sweetie lied. “It’s not bleeding anymore. But...I think Scootaloo’s arm is broken.”

“From the falling timber.” Apple Bloom added.

“While fixing the...roof?” Scootaloo embellished further.

Applejack took a step back and gave the three of them a perplexed look.

“Cutie Mark Crusaders” Apple Bloom offered weakly.

“Roof...uh, fixers.” Continued Sweetie.

“Yay.” Finished Scootaloo, clutching her broken arm and clearly lacking any enthusiasm about their hastily assembled lie.

Utterly baffled, AJ looked back and forth between them, then shook her head. “Ah really don’t know why ah’m surprised anymore. Scootaloo, let’s get you to Nurse Redheart. Apple Bloom...”

Apple Bloom gulped nervously.

“You just keep quiet and follow me, little lady.” Her big sister said with a withering glare.

Fidgeting nervously, Sweetie offered “Umm...I’ll go home and get cleaned up, and tell Rarity what happened.”

Nodding, AJ led her sister and the injured girl out of the club house, leaving Sweetie alone with the magazine. As soon as the others were out of earshot, Sweetie exhaled in relief. The relief didn’t last long, though. An urgent gurgling sound reminded her that she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

“That’s it. The woods!” she thought. Stuffing the magazine under the rug, she rushed out the door, down the ramp and into the treeline. Looking around carefully, she made sure no one else was nearby. Satisfied that she was alone, she peeled her panties all the way off, lifted her skirt and leaned against a big oak tree for support. Still glancing around anxiously, she braced herself, hovering over a bowl-shaped tangle of roots.

She closed her eyes and relaxed her bottom. At first nothing happened. She held her breath and gave it a little push. Then all at once -- and with an alarmingly loud clarity -- the floodgates were opened. She steadied herself against the tree with one hand. She used the other hand to simultaneously hold her skirt up out of the way and clench her soiled panties in a tight fist. She would need them later, since she had nothing else to wipe with. A torrent of hot, sticky white fluid gushed out of her rectum, splattering into a messy puddle by the tree. As it flowed out of her aching butthole, it burned and stung, making her flinch in pain. Looking around frantically, she was almost positive that somebody would hear, and come investigate. Meanwhile, a stream of urine began to spray from her slit, taking further pressure off of her tortured mid section.

Horrified at the thought of being found in such an undignified position, she panted, took another deep breath, held it, and pushed again. An even bigger stream of fluids roiled through her pipes, out her opening and down to join the first puddle. She kept pushing, and it kept flowing. Finally, the stream of stinging liquid abated, and her bowels sputtered out the bubbles of air that had been pushed up her pipes during the various gapings. This couldn’t possibly be normal, she thought dismally. She silently wondered exactly how much fluid the average climax yielded.

“Glad I didn’t ask that jerk to cum in my mouth.” She muttered. With a final gurgling spurt, her bowels were finally free of that horrible woman’s affections. Shifting slightly, she reached down with her wadded up pair of panties and dabbed at her vagina. A few droplets of urine and the faintest streak of red from her torn hymen...not so bad.

“Front to back” she thought with a wry smile. “Especially today.” With a slow awkward swipe, she used the panties to wipe away the streaks of cum and shit from her ass crack and tender, puckered asshole. It stung a little bit, having just been ravaged so thoroughly, but it wasn’t as bad as she had feared. Folding the panties over, she wiped again and tossed the hopelessly ruined undergarments onto the brown and white puddle between her feet.

She sighed and scooped some dirt and leaves over the icky mess she had left in the cluster of roots. Standing up, she smoothed out her skirt and sat down, leaning against the opposite side of the tree. She let her mind wander, recounting the depravity she had just survived at the hands of a made-up super-villain. It all seemed so ridiculous in hindsight, but she couldn't help wondering.

“That was so messed up.” She thought, shaking her head in dismay. “I was...violated...in the worst ways imaginable. But still, I came so fucking hard. Twice! That was absolutely disgusting, but...why did I enjoy it so much?”

She hugged her knees and sobbed into her skirt for half an hour.

Standing some what shakily, she walked gingerly back to the clubhouse to retrieve the magazine. Tucking it into a folder with some schoolwork, she made her way to the Carousel Boutique.

Something was wrong.

It had been 6 days since the incident. Scootaloo had been patched up well enough, and Apple Bloom was finally starting to walk without a tender limp. They had agreed to hold off on any and all crusading for the rest of the month. But none of that was what bothered Sweetie Belle. It has been almost a week, and she had become increasingly concerned with her inability to...satisfy herself...ever since then. At first she was in denial that anything was wrong, but that was no solution. Deciding that enough was enough, she pulled out all the stops. Her big sister was at the spa, which should give her a little over an hour to draw a bath.

Within minutes she was up to her chin in bubble bath. A pilfered candle -- swiped from a candelabra in the parlor, and a little thicker than her thumb -- was halfway up her backside. Three fingers nestled snugly in her crotch, gyrating aggressively.

Aaaand nothing. As much as her mind wanted it, her body simply wasn't impressed. Or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, she was quite certain that people spent lifetimes in therapy over this kind of thing.

She closed her eyes and redoubled her efforts. She didn’t care how long it took; she was determined to get off and regain control of her own sensuality.

“Let me guess” her sister’s voice shocked her back to reality. Sweetie froze. Hoping desperately it was just her imagination, she peeked one eye open and looked at the bathroom doorway.

Rarity frowned at her, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed. She was wearing a bathrobe and a...scarf? She had been wearing that scarf everywhere lately.

Anyways, all that mattered was that Sweetie was busted.

Busted as fuck. She turned bright crimson and sank further into the bubbles.

“You went into my dresser, didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Underwear drawer?”

She nodded again.

“You read Episode 11, didn’t you?”

Damn.

“Your friends, too?”

It wasn’t fair that anyone could be so good at this, let alone a big sister.

Rarity sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, where her red framed glasses sometimes rested.

“And now you can’t climax unless you’re tied up and raped in a dungeon?”

Silently wishing to be the victim of a sudden onset, fatal brain aneurysm, Sweetie sank even further into the bubbles. A precariously positioned toaster might be nice right about now. Or maybe a perfectly placed, baseball-sized meteorite could do the trick. Would it be unreasonably selfish to wish for a plane to crash on top of her house? She didn’t care. She would settle for literally anything to end her humiliation.

Her big sister sighed again and a long moment passed in silence. After a bit of deliberation, she lowered the scarf just enough for Sweetie to see that it had been concealing ugly bruises. The kind a girl might get from being choked. By a super villain. With hair tentacles.

In a moment, Sweetie understood. Rarity turned away and walked to her room.

“If you hurry,” she called out from down the hall “we can just make the afternoon train to Manehattan.”

The younger sister raised an eyebrow uncertainly.

“Episode 12 was released yesterday. It’s the end of the arc, you know. We’ll each pick up a copy, then we will never speak of this again.”

Sweetie frowned, sat up and leaned over to sneak a peek down the hallway to make sure it was clear. Biting her tongue to avoid making so much as a peep, she slowly removed the candle from its decidedly non-traditional perch. As soon as it popped free, Rarity’s voice rang out from the other room. It barely concealed a hint of laughter.

“Oh, and by the way...I don’t care if you keep it or not, but I never want to see that candle again.”

With a defeated groan, Sweetie sank all the way down into the bubble bath. With her vocalized exasperation slinking below the surface, it dissolved into an indistinct stream of bubbly humiliation.

Still...she had to admit that sometimes when a girl gets in way over her head, it can be nice having a big sister there to help.