Whorn: A Debutante's Dark Descent Into Debauchery

Dear Diary,

My apologies for dropping my inkwell on you last night. I was refilling my quill when my goddess senses departed with a vengeance and I wasn’t prepared for the pain that it left in its wake. The spot it left behind isn’t an eyesore at all. It has that art-nouveau look. And it dried cleanly without bleeding through to the other pages. I’ve always had a taste for the finer things in life, right down to using only the highest quality writing materials to capture my thoughts.

I don’t want to open the shop today. I really should. I’m not independently wealthy yet. Even up-and-coming fashionistas need to pay bills and eat. Speaking of eating, I was hungry but didn’t feel up to waiting for the market or even the Hayburger so I stepped out behind the boutique while it was still dark out (Did I sleep? I don’t remember the dream I had last night) and ate a few patches of tall grass. It wasn’t so bad, all things considered. I haven’t grazed straight from the ground since I was an infant. Some high society mare I am, eating as a cow would. Did you hear a sound earlier, Diary? The sound of dozens of rich, handsome princes from exotic, far away lands lining up around the block to ask for my hoof in marriage? Neither did I. And so I grazed because it seemed like a better idea than starving to death, although not by much.

Do you know whose life I envy most? Opal’s. She gets love, attention, food, water, and shelter – all without having to deisgn a single fashion line. And she has no concern about beating a biological clock. Some surgery recommended by Fluttershy saw to that but it has had some rather interesting side effects. I believe that Opal rather fancies Rainbow Dash’s turtle tortoise now. When the girls and I get together for our pet playdate, I can count on watching Opal interact with Tank. Whether nuzzling him or scratching at his shell, they’re never far apart from one another. The only aspect of Opal’s life that I don’t envy is that she does her “business” in a litterbox. especially since I’m the pony who has to clean said box. At the very least, I can levitate the scooper. Oh, my heavens, it just occurred to me! Applejack must have to pick up Winona’s droppings with her mouth!

Oh, Diary. I just spent the last five minutes laughing my plot off. It’s so wrong of me to laugh at that.

For the record, I do not use my bare mouth to pick up after my dog.

Heh. Crapplejack. OW! Would you quit hitting me?!

Maybe if you’d quit cracking stupid jokes like that, I would.

Guys, behave yourselves. Pinkie, you have my permission to use hug therapy on the next pony who instigates a fight.

Aye-aye, P.T.S.

Yikes. Uh, sorry, AJ. Truce?

Truce.

What’s that, Fluttershy? How dare you? Twilight, Fluttershy’s picking a fight with me.

What?

See? I can’t let that kind of challenge to my authority slide. I’m going to have to hug her now.

Oof! Well, this isn’t so bad.

Oh, Pinkie Pie.

I needed that laughter. I need every comfort I can get my hooves on right now. My tolerance to the pain of having mundane senses again has increased but I am by no means a happy camper. Not that camping could ever make me happy. No. The key to my hapiness lies elsewhere... and knowing that I’ll have to violate those I call my friends in order to attain it makes me ill. There’s no other way. I’m trying my best to deal with this silent hullabaloo and it’s the most difficult thing I’ve had to endure. My brain is ringing a bell for a servant that never shows because he’s left the premises but its needs aren’t being met so it just keeps ringing and ringing – and that soundless sound is threatening to unravel my sanity. I’ll try to run the shop today to try to get my mind off of my condition... though I doubt I’ll have much success. A nine hour day seems positively insurmountable. I’ve only been writing for a few minutes and it feels more like months have passed.

I’m hungry again. I suppose I’ll have some more Carousel Bistro al fresco grass. Right after a shower.

I felt refreshed after my shower. I applied my cosmetics and I even managed to open the shop. I shouldn’t be so proud of accomplishing something so trivial but considering my restlessness, it’s a wonder I can stand or walk at all. My levitation spell is unaffected, thank Celestia.

The first hour has come and gone and nopony has entered my shop, not even the mailpony. I’ll wager that Rich’s Barnyard Bargains has customers coming out of their ears at this time of day; ponies on a budget rifling through their discount bins for cheap, funky clothing. I’m not jealous. Why should I be? Those ponies aren’t my target demographic. My outfits attract a different class of pony, one that knows quality merchandise when they see it and have the means to purchase them. I just wish that more such ponies lived in (or were willing to make the journey to) Ponyville. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can complete the stonework on that bolero with the matching slacks I was working on for Sapphire Shores. Sapphire has a mare-iachi themed musical number planned for an upcoming tour and she’s asked me to design something for her that says south of the border. It’s very smart looking in a crossdressy sort of way. I wouldn’t wear it myself. I have no issues with pants. I’m just a dress mare. Hopefully hour two will see some customers arrive.

Oh dear.

Are you sure you’re up to this, Fluttershy?

No... but there’s only one way to find out.

Okay... but you don’t have to do this.

I know. I want to do this. Having you girls here with me makes this a lot easier.

If I wasn’t already hugging you, I’d ask you if you needed a hug.

Life is full of surprises, Diary. I suppose that’s part of what makes it so interesting. Sometimes something can fall into your lap when you least expect it... and then departs just as swiftly as it came. (This time, I waited until after my

The girls and I were starting to get concerned about Rarity since she had hardly spent time with any of us after her business trip. When we heard from Pinkie Pie that Rarity wasn’t feeling well, I volunteered to stop by and see how she was doing.

About an hour ago, the door chime rang as somepony entered the shop. It was Fluttershy. She came to pay me a visit to find out what I had been up to. She brought me a fruit basket which I dove into with great gusto. I devoured the apples and pears. The speed with which I ate the bananas was nothing short of inequine. By the time I was halfway through the grapes, I was sated enough to eat at a slower ladylike pace.

There are times when a spark of stimulating conversation can be delightful and then there are times when one simply wants somepony to listen to them unload. All of my friends can provide me with the former but Fluttershy has long been my go-to pony for the latter. She’s infinitely patient with me and I fully admit to having a knack for inadvertently trying the patience of others. While I knew I could trust Fluttershy about what I’ve been going through, I made her Pinkie promise not to repeat what she was about to hear all the same. Naturally, she indulged me. I then proceeded to confide in her about everything. The goddess senses, the trip to Dodge Junction, the dustup with Pinkie Pie – it must have been a lot to swallow – and she paid attention to every word I spoke without interruption. When I told her that I was going out of my mind without my gift, I started to cry. After recounting Pinkie’s ordeal, I could scarcely believe that I had actually done such a thing to Ponyville’s dearest daughter. I was filled with self-loathing. Celestia, I’m so blasted sick of crying like a baby when faced with adversity. Not even my little sister cries as much as I do. Am I not an adult? Why don’t I do something more constructive to solve my problems?

I had never seen Rarity in such a state of anxiety. So I did the kindest thing I could think to do that might help calm her down.

I closed my eyes and hung my head, fully expecting Fluttershy to denounce me Then Fluttershy did something I wasn’t expecting. She flew to the front door, locked it, put up my closed sign, and proceeded to suck my horn.

The pain I had felt since dropping the inkwell on your pages disappeared and I cried for joy from the relief that I feared I’d never feel again. It was a very intense emotional moment. The goddess senses returned to me but, more than that, my beautiful, kind friend Fluttershy was going above and beyond the call of duty by helping me in my hour of need in the most personal of ways. I was ashamed of myself and what I’ve done – though not so ashamed that I asked Fluttershy to stop. Indeed, my lungs were far too occupied with the task of moaning, whimpering, and heavy breathing brought about by her impeccable hornjob to even think about asking her to stop. I didn’t have to resort to trickery or force to gain access to her mouth. No guilt. No trickery. No fifteen thousand bits. Only a dear sweet friend who gave of herself to help an undeserving monster through a rough patch. The skill with which she dutifully and diligently lavished my mouth-starved horn was without flaw. And much to my surprise, she knew her way around a unicorn horn. She even ran the tip of her tongue across my groove right before I could ask if she could do that. Whoever educated her on the subject had my thanks.

I should explain. When I have some down time, I like to do some reading. It’s very relaxing. Rainbow Dash and I make regular trips to the library together and we sometimes walk away with two saddlebags full of books. I’m not very strong so if I got more than that, the weight makes it hard for me to fly. This one time, Rainbow Dash decided to play a prank on me.

We were in line to check out our selections when she asked me to look after her stack so that she could go to the bathroom. I saw a book titled The Complete Illustrated Guide To Advanced Unicorn Lovemaking Techniques. [Author’s note: Published by Simon & Horseshuster, now in its fourth printing. Available wherever better books are sold.] I quickly grabbed it off the shelf and stuck it in the middle of her stack. Fluttershy came back when Twilight was half way through checking out my books. When it was Fluttershy’s turn to check out, I hid behind a bookshelf and watched, waiting for Twilight to flip out when she saw the sex book – but, egghead that she is, she didn’t even notice the title of the book that she had stamped.

I did notice, Rainbow Dash. What you call being an egghead is actually professionalism. Just because I’m Fluttershy’s friend does not entitle me to comment on the books she borrows. What she checks out is her own business and I assumed that she was fully aware of what she was checking out when she took it off the shelf. She’s an adult. So are you – although your love of pranks leads me to believe otherwise.

When I got home, I saw the book and I was so embarrassed. Twilight must have thought I was a hussy. At the time, I had no idea how it could have wound up in my selections. And... well... curiosity got the better of me so I peeked at the first page... and then the second page... and then a few pages more until I finished the book. It’s very educational. I learned things about unicorns that I never knew before. A-Anyway, that’s the story of how I knew what to do to Rarity’s horn.

It couldn’t have been three minutes until I started to feel the familiar buildup of pressure in my horn.

I had never done this before but it was working just like the book said. I guess I’m good at following instructions.

“Oh, Fluttershy... I’m going to unicum,” I warned her, wondering if she even knew what that meant and dreading the thought that she’d stop if she did know what it meant. Bless her heart, not only did she not stop, she took my horn even deeper down the back of her throat until her lips came in contact with my forehead. I squeaked out my warning a second time and then I unicame with a vengeance, wailing with pleasure as I unleashed a fusillade of magism down her esophagus. My body spasmed as she stayed the course, allowing me to empty myself into her before disengaging her mouth from my horn.

The hardest part was holding my breath until Rarity unicame. Her magism shot right down my esophagus and into my stomach, just like the book said would happen if I did it right. And I did. I didn’t want to ruin the moment by choking or vomiting.

My legs twitched with every stroke of her tongue as she licked the magism that ran down the tip. Any stallion lucky enough to become her spouse was going to have a spectacular honeymoon – guaranteed.

I didn’t even taste any of it until I started to lick it clean. And I was a little curious about how it tasted. It tastes like bits and minty toothpaste. I had never seen her look so relaxed – or so beautiful – than at that moment. A complete one-eighty from the way she was feeling when I first entered her boutique. She was glowing.

“Do you feel better now?” she asked.

“Much,” I squeaked as I rolled onto my back to catch my breath.

“Good. Now, if you start to feel that discomfort again, you just let me know and I’ll suck your horn whenever you want.”

Oh, how those words made me weep with joy. I would never be without the goddess senses or the embrace again. I was saved.

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” I said. “Why is it that you’re so kind to me?”

Oh, my. Here it comes.

“It’s... because I’m in love with you,” she said.

“Uh – What?” I asked flatly.

I don’t know if I can really call myself a lesbian. All I know is that I’ve been in love with Rarity for years and I wanted to be more than just friends. I just never had the courage to tell her. Since we had just shared this act of intimacy, I thought she’d be open to others.

Before I could get a reply out of her, she stood over me, leaned in and tried to kiss me. I yelped and scrambled away from her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What do you think you’re doing?” I squealed.

“But... I just thought that... since I, you know, took care of your horn... that... we might...”

“Is that so? Well, I’m very flattered that you have feelings for me but those feelings are not reciprocated. I am a heterosexual mare.”

“B-B-B-B-But... th-the hornjob...”

“What about it? Putting your mouth around my horn is one thing. Putting it on my lips is quite another. I just got through telling you how distressed I am from dealing with this! Did you honestly believe that this was the best time to profess your love for me? Hmm? What were you thinking?”

I lost my temper all the time when something – anything – got between me and my enjoyment of the embrace. I sure as hoof didn’t want to hear anypony talk to me. The only thing I would even think of entertaining was getting another hornjob.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she started to cry. “I think I should leave now.”

“Yes, you most certainly should! And don’t return until you’ve learned how to treat me like the lady I am and how to act like the lady I thought you were!” I opened the door for her and she ran away a weeping mess.

I’ve cried more times than I can count over more things than I care to remember. Having my heart broken into a billion pieces by Rarity like this was more painful than all of those other things combined. I should have kept quiet. I’m much better now but at the time, I honestly didn’t want to live anymore.

I was furious. I still am – only now that I’ve had some time to cool down and reflect, I’m actually more furious with myself than with Fluttershy. I should have handled the situation with maturity and understanding. Had I let her down gently instead of losing my temper and yelling at her, the arrangement where she would continue giving me hornjobs on a regular basis might still be valid. I doubt she’ll come back tomorrow.

Kissing a mare. Why, the very idea makes me ill. I would sooner share a kiss with the world’s ugliest stallion than its most beautiful mare.

I’m with Rarity on this one. What about you guys? If you had to kiss either the ugliest stallion or the most beautiful mare, which would you choose?

Rarity is the most beautiful mare there is... so I think you know my answer.

How ugly are we talking here?

She said the world’s ugliest stallion so figure that he’s got to be pretty horrendous. Crooked teeth, huge nose, beady eyes...

Does he have B.O. or bad breath?

I dunno. She just said ugly. Smelly is a dealbreaker for me. I might have to change my answer if he was ugly and stunk. For the sake of this hypothetical question, he doesn’t smell bad.

Okay. Hwoo. This one’s a toughy. Well, if it’s just a quick peck on the lips, the mare. but if it’s even a split second longer than that, the stallion.

As long as I know them, I’m good with either. After all, it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?

Uh, yeah, totally. What about you, Twilight?

You do know that Rarity and I were...

Oh, yeah. DUH! Never mind.

My goddess senses will leave me again. I shall simply have to endure their absence until Fluttershy returns. I refuse to subject the other girls to my vice. This has to stop. In fact, it’s stopping right now. There, I’ve said it. It’s over. I’m officially done. It’s costing me money and ruining my friendships.

I told myself plenty of times that I was done with Harmon-E. And one minute of withdrawal was all it took to remind me who was really in charge.

I closed the shop. I can’t work. I can’t concentrate. I can barely write. I can’t take it any longer. I give up. This is sheer agony! I need the goddess senses again. But I won’t go to Fluttershy. She’s cruel! She’ll force me to have sex with her in exchange for hornjobs... and I refuse to stoop so low! She isn’t the only one with an eligible mouth.

Celestia, she was sooooooo good. Why did she have to turn on me?

What’s done is done. I’m doing this on my own terms. I’ve decided that my next target shall be Rainbow Dash. I know exactly how to bend her to my will. I just need the right ally. And conveniently enough, that ally happens to be Rainbow Dash herself.

Fluttershy?

Yes?

I don’t say this often enough but you really are brave. Doing this commentary must be pretty hard for you.

Oh. It is. Thank you.

I’m going to have to one-up you, though. See, anypony who read Whorn already knows what happens to me in this next chapter. What they don’t know is that the secret I’m about to reveal for this commentary edition is the first time I’ve revealed it anywhere. Ever. And it’s going to be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.

Oh, goodness. That is very brave. Would it help if I offered to hold your hoof as you tell it?

Honestly? I think I might need a hug for this one.