Brony-Skin Coats

by Good Christian Ethesto

Rating: mature
Tags: Rarity, Sex, Slice of Life, Human, Twilight Sparkle, Gore, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Comedy
Length: 4794

The newest fashion craze has Rarity swamped with work. Only through determination, and with a helping horse-hand from her friend Twilight, can she hope to possibly keep up.

The newest fashion craze has Rarity swamped with work. Only through determination, and with a helping horse-hand from her friend Twilight, can she hope to possibly keep up.

A collab between myself and Chuckward

Cover art is a pickle I found on Google images.

Some dinguses did a reading of this.

Published 2015-03-26 21:10:01 UTC
Last updated 2015-03-26 21:10:01 UTC

The Chapter That Changed Everything

This story is brought to you by the number 'M'

The big cardboard-cutout of a sun hung precariously in the sky on its strings, and the thousands of lights and space heaters hidden in the Everfree forest were powered to full, meaning it was another normal, happy day in Equestria. Like any day in the peaceful little wonderland, many of its pony inhabitants were out and about, enjoying their ever-shortening lives, trying hard to forget that they'd soon be nothing but dust on the wind, forgotten by all, insignificant, as though they never even existed.

One pony, however, was holed up in her horse-pun inspired home. You guessed it, it was Rarity! She was extra busy today, having gotten multiple orders for clothes overnight, all of which had to be made from scratch.

"Good grape-flavored gravy," Rarity spoke at an acceptable room temperature as she read through the receipts, "these orders'll take me all day. Looks like I don't have time to hold my horses this time!" The audience laughed at her joke as she got to work.

"First thing's first," she continued talking to herself, not because she's insane, but because I'm not very good at writing, "I'll need to check my stock." Waving her legs back and forth, she slid her belly across the floor like a lizard, propelling her across the linoleum at a respectable speed. Swiftly reaching the basement door, she flung it off its hinges with the force of her magic before sliding down the stairs on her belly. She let out a soft 'oop' as she descended each step, the wooden edges bumping and brushing uncomfortably against her six-nippled belly.

In 10 stairs flat, she reached the bottom, her eyes expanding enough to speedily absorb all the light molecules from the room in a quick search. "Darn," she muttered, noting that she was all out of her rare supplies. It had totally slipped her mind that she had finished skinning and disposing of her last batch just last night. Unfortunately, with how popular her newest clothing item was, she was practically overloaded with work, and it was tough to keep up with the demand.

It was only with Twilight's help that she was able to keep up with the orders, and it looked like she'd need the purple bastard's help once again. You see, the only way one could hope to obtain such rare materials was through the conjuring of fowl magics, and though Rarity loathed continuously asking for help form the purple one, the amount of money and fame she was getting made everything worth it.

Despite her previously-established hatred for purple people, especially of the one-eyed-one-horned-flying-eater variety, Rarity picked up her walking boulder, placed it upon her back, and headed out towards the treehouse that retarded bronies are still sad about. It's a fucking cartoon tree, get over it you man children. She lifted a hoof to knock on the door, but ended up falling forward, causing the boulder to roll forward and crash through the door.

"Consarnit Rarity, Ah dun told ya ta keep yer walkin' boulder under control," said a voice that could only be coming from inside the house(spooky).

"I'm sorry Twilight, but the titanium rods that line my spine aren't quite as thick as yours, so it's rather difficult to uphold the widely established Equestrian custom of carrying large boulders when you go outside."

Twilight walked up to Rarity and placed a hoof upon her shoulder in an attempt to pretend that she felt even the slightest amount of pity for her weak friend. As an atheist,  Twilight only believes in survival of the fittest, as she is a wretched heathen. In reality, she wished to usurp Rarity's position as the mane(still fucking hilarious) character.

"Well what did ya come here for, sugar cube?" asked Twilight Sparkle.

"Ah yes of course, I need your help, I have a very large series of orders to complete, and I'm completely out of my precious skins."

Twilight Sparkle sighed in that obnoxious way that she does all the time. Like, holy shit, we get it, Twilight. "Ah hope ya'll relize I aint gone do this from the goodness of mah heart," she belched, acrid fumes erupting from her bloated, hay-stuffed innards like swamp gas.

Rarity nodded, knowing full well that her friend was a greedy, money hungry jew. She reached into the secret compartment in her tail drill and pulled out her pot of gold, clinched firmly between the tiny fingers in the palm of her hoof. Fishing through it, she tossed a horse-handful of doubloons onto the hardwood floor.

Twilight's nostrils flared as she sucked in the essence of the gold coins, confirming that they were legal with ease from years of practice. Then, without a shred of pride, she plucked each coin from the ground like a pigeon at the park, swallowing them to be stored in her secret purse-organ. After a moment, all the doubloons were gone, and she licked her lips in satisfaction.

"Well, I'll be a canned ham, Rarity. Looks like we got ourselves a deal."

Rarity smiles, mostly out of courtesy as she couldn't stand this pimply, purple prom-queen. "I'm in a bit of a hurry, when can I expect them to arrive?"

"Right now," smugly responded Twilight Sparkle, her head lighting up as the uranium fuel rod extending from her skull began the process of nuclear fission. Rarity couldn't help but shield her eyes at the ugly magenta glow radiating from Twilight's face, but, thankfully, it was gone in a moment. She turned back to see that her order had arrived, three of those grotesque monsters, clearly all male judging by the neck hair.

From her perspective they were all deformed, two being bloated and top-heavy and the other almost skeleton thin. What they all did have in common, though, was their fedoras and various my little pony merchandise. For some reason, all these grotesque creatures always had merchandise of her and the other ponies. Rarity would question it more but she honestly couldn't care less. She was about to make a lot of money!

"Oh my god you guys," shrieked one of the morbidly obese creatures in a dialect just barely recognizable as human speech. With every syllable that choked it's way out of his neckfat-smothered throat, a cloud of Cheeto dust shot out in front of him, causing him to resemble a fire-breathing dragon if dragons were insipid, obese freaks painfully obsessed with a television show made for the little girls they so obviously lust after,"it's Rarity and Twilight Sparkle, they must've called us here to have sex with us."

Demonstrating the average brony's level of social skills, the trio of worthless losers pulled down their rotten, unwashed sweatpants to reveal their tiny dicks that would surely never be seen by a real women, let alone satisfy one. Actually, only the sickly, cancer-patient-looking one had a penis that was even remotely visible, the other two were so fat that their dicks were crushed into flat plates of skin by their bellies/thigh meat, causing their piss to leak out of the sides of their fat folds when they lie down.

Rarity cringed at the sight of these subhuman(more like subpony amirite?) abominations. The stench of these showerless monstrosities almost caused her to vomit profusely, if only because even the smell of pony vomit is highly preferable to having to bear the BO of any brony. Just being in their presence filled the air with this smell. This smelly smell. The smell of something that is... smelly.

Rarity really wasn't looking forward to having to drag these Godless cretins all the way home. Then she got an idea. An awful idea. Rarity got a wonderful, awful idea. She turned to Twilight, her lips curving into a smirk so smug not even baby Jesus wanted to lay down his sweet head away in his manger no crib for a bed. "Hey Twilight, how about another job?"

Hearing this, the prospect of more gold to fill her jew stash loaded Twilight's head with visions of wealth beyond imagination and her horse face twisted into a smirk so smug the little drummer boy wouldn't play a song for you barrump-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum. "What kinda job?" She asked, eyes filled with dollar signs.

"I'll give you a shilling if you teleport these repugnant beasts to my basement for me," she explained, pulling a larger gold coin with King Horse George IV's head engraved on it from her purple drill. Twilight's eyes instantly locked on to it, like a dog having beggin strips dangled before it, and a thin line of caustic, brownish drool began leaking from the crevices in her unbrushed teeth.

"Sounds like a deal ta me. Ya'll jus' leave that ther shiny coin on that ther floor an' consider it done!"

Rarity swiftly exited Twilight's treehouse, leaving her walking boulder behind as an intentional display of disrespect towards her stupid bumpkin friend. She then Rainbow Dashed her way back home. As much as she hated running because running is for girls and girls have cooties, she was eager to get home to finish her projects.

Once she reached her home, she opened the door with her secret chimpanzee feet and walked inside.

"Welcome to Carousel Boutique," said one of the fat bronies with a huge smile on his face,"where everything is sleek, sheik, and magnifique."

The trio of disgusting creatures chortled like idiots, causing the fat bronyies' jelly rolls to jiggle so much that the entire planet shook under their weight. Rarity could only look on in horror as all of her neatly arranged fashion materials fell to the floor as a result of the bronyquake.

"Oh I'm not even going to regret eviscerating the lot of you," she said under her breath, "say you...erm...delightful creatures, would you mind following me down to my basement?"

"Are you going to have a four-way with us?" Asked the skinniest brony.

"Sure said Rarity as she walked down the basement stairs," said Rarity. And also she was walking down the basement stairs. "oh it'll be a four-way alright, a fatal four-way live this Sunday on the WWE Network, mwahahahahahaha!"

Through some miracle, the Bronies managed to make it down stairs without having even a single heart attack, and as they stood, hunched over and panting, Rarity decided to finally make her move.

"Foolish fools, you've been coaxed into a snafu!" she yelled maniacally as she removed the tiny sombrero from her forehead, revealing her horn. "I've been a unicorn all this time, yet you sniveling mortals so carelessly fell into my trap and followed me down here anyway, completely unaware of my awesome magical power. It was all a clever ruse!"

The bronies just stared at her like a cow stares at an oncoming train, having had enough borderline-homosexual fantasies about her penetrating their assholes with her pearly, white horn to know that she was a unicorn.

"Peel your onions and pray, for it's all ogre for you," she taunted as she played magical flute music from the tip of her horn and waved her head around. Across the room, the chains were roused from their sleep, responding to her spell like a group of cobras in a basket. They snaked(lmaokekburrofllol) their way through the air like some spooky haunts, and went straight for the bronies. The obviously-retarded humans didn't stand a ghoooost of a chance, and before they could even begin to fart the alphabet, they were bound on the floor.

"Wow, Rarity is in to some kinky $#!@," said one of them, sure to censor himself because this story is rated G.

With her magic still going strong, Rarity then opened some nearby drawers and pulled out her work tools, laying them out on a table. Scalpels, bone saws, and various blades, as well as what could only be described as medieval torture devices, and even a few dragon dildos here and there composed the majority of them. They all showed signs of wear, having clearly been used extensively by the superior white horse.

"Rarity is into some really kinky $#!@," amended another of the bronies.

Rarity sighed after getting the easy portion of setup out of the way, and went to a damp corner of the room, where three knee-high metal boxes were kept. She brought them over to the bronies and placed them on the ground approximately three feet apart. Then she dragged the bronies over to the boxes, giving herself three herniated discs in her spine. She bent the bronies over the boxes so that two of the bronies' faces were right up against the sweaty asshole of the person(a term I use loosely here, let's face it, bronies aren't people) in front of them.

There was literally no practical reason for her to arrange her victims in such a manner, she just thought it was really funny that 2/3 of her victims would die with a sweaty butthole literally pressed up against their noses.

Rarity grabbed a pair of scissors and a scalpel, and meandered her way to the back of the brony pack where the skinny one resided. She placed the scissors on the ground next to her and grabbed the brony's(your) embarrassingly tiny scrotum.

"Oh fuck yes,"came the muffled moans from betwixt the buttocks of the fat fuck where the skinny brony's head resided. His dick became instantly hard, measuring in at a whopping seven centimeters. He only became harder as he felt a cold piece of metal being applied to the middle of his scrotum.

Rarity rolled her eyes at the pathetically puny penis in front of her, momentarily becoming lost in fantasies of Big Macintosh's sex legs, reveling in the idea of them racing through her digestive tract. She sighed, knowing that since, much like a male angler fish, he had bitten Applejack's ass and fused to her in order to provide nutrients for their baby, the prospect was simply impossible. Remembering what she was doing, Rarity applied pressure to the scissors in her hoof, enjoying the feeling of cutting through skin with quickness and precision, punctuated by the satisfying snap that was made when the two scissor pieces connected at the end.

The brony's soft moans were instantly replaced by obnoxious screams as his snack-sized scrotum was sliced clean off. With a swift push of her magic (as she would never touch these horrendous things with her bare hoof) she stuffed the annoying brony's face between the hippopotamus-esque thighs of the brony directly in front of him, choking out his shrill voice as he was literally being suffocated in flank (Author's note: according to the adolescent minds of bronies, "flank" means "butt").

Rarity took a moment to wipe some stray blood from the cleanly-removed scrotum, appraising it with a critical eye. It was far too small to be used for a sock, but perhaps she could make it into a coin purse. Unfortunately, the sticky thing had likely never been washed, and smelled of dried feces, so she probably wouldn't be able to give it to any customers. Maybe she could give it to her daughter, Sweetie Belle, as a gift. Her birthday was coming up soon. Setting it aside for now, she moved on to the brony's feeble penis, noting it had somehow managed to shrink in size even further as its blood supply emptied from the hole in his gooch.

She set the scissors aside as they were too bulky for such a delicate project. Instead, she selected a smaller, more precise pair of sheers from her collection, taking a moment to wipe away some of the accumulated rust before bringing it to the base of the shaft. The brony before her struggled and was screaming something into the anus of his colleague, but Rarity could care less. It was probably just more bullshit about "love and tolerance" anyway. Bronies loved to go on and on about that, and Rarity hadn't a clue why. She always rationalized it as them being mentally comparable to the lowly dirt ponies, like Applejack. That would explain why they don't clean themselves too.

With a practiced and precise snip, his wittle weiner hit the bucket. It literally fell into the metal bucket she had laid out below to catch all the blood. She fished it from the growing pool of vital goo just in time as the brony began emptying his bowels, adding to the mess. Rarity turned away, more interested in measuring the value of the tiny little skin worm she'd collected. Originally, she'd considered using them as horn warmers, but all these creatures had such tiny, shriveled penises, only the most underdeveloped unicorn could hope to fit in them. They had grown quite popular with the little fillies and cults, however. On cold days she'd never let Sweetie Belle leave the house without her horn warmer, lest the little horse-larvae catch a cold.

"Hmm, only a few karats, not quite enough for a young foal, but I should be able to sell this to the Cake family, I'm sure their little Pumpkin will love it," she said haphazardly, "it's a shame your species has such tiny penises, your skin is so marvelously clingy in the cold, these things almost never fall off. Oh well."

She returned to the brony's mutilated genitalia, ignoring the muffled cries of her fashion victims. She eyed the tiny testicles hanging by mere threads and completely exposed to the elements. Slowly she brought up some small nose clippers to the cords, keeping the testicles themselves aloft with her magic. She snipped the testes off, rolling her eyes at yet another one of the brony's screams, before walking towards a small counter about four feet away. She placed the testicles into a food dehydrator atop the counter, and activated it, drying the small balls, and causing them to shrivel up even further.

Once the testes were dry, she pulled them out, placed them in a small burlap bag, and crushed them under her hoof until they were but a fine purplish-brown powder. They would surely sell for several thousand bits as an afrodesiac, and though the powder was extremely limited, she just knew that the pony who bought it would soon have a beautiful, luxurious afro.

Turning back to her subject, Rarity pulled a tape measure from the tiny, built-in tape-measure-holder in her synthetic leg and trotted closer. She stretched it around his torso and all his limbs, calculating the square footage of skin she'd be dealing with here. It was rather unfortunate that this one was so skinny, and his skin was sickly and covered in freckles like a massive flour tortilla that had somehow crawled its way from the primordial goo to evolve (or devolve) into this lanky waste of carbon. Thankfully, the other two were much larger with an abundance of skin on their roiling, overgrown fat rolls.

She began to hum a tune as she focused on her work, selecting a scalpel from her tools, she started where she left off before, making a 'Y' cut above his butt cheeks and leading all the way down to his groin. She made several more cuts along the base of his thighs and tummy before switching to a 3 inch pizza cutter to continue down his legs. She worked tirelessly, peeling large squares of skin as delicately as possible, making sure not to break them as she piled them neatly off to the side. The brony she was working on had long since suffocated on the farts of his weak-sphinctered companion, making it far easier to work without him constantly trying to justify his shitty head canon.

Completely absorbed in her work, Rarity hardly noticed the passing of time until the brony at the 'head' of the human centipede decided to speak up. "When is it gonna be my turn?" he asked, not having noticed what she was actually doing as his abundant neck fat kept him from looking in any direction other than forward. "It's cold down here, and my knees hurt, and I'm tired," he complained. Being an expert on whining, Rarity could hardly stand it when people complained in front of her, as these bronies were wont to do. She really didn't have time to deal with this new annoyance as she had a deadline to meet.

"Don't worry, I'll be sure to get to you soon," she announced before selecting a particularly jagged dragon dildo from her collection on the table. She wasted no time in shoving it in the talkative brony's mouth, thankfully shutting him up as its hook-like spines would make it near-impossible to remove. She always wondered why these things were taught to talk in the first place since everything that came out of their mouths was idiotic and annoying. "At the very least they should come with muzzles," she remarked, berating God for his poor character design.

Rarity swiftly rushed up the stairs with the brony skin in tow, carelessly slapping the slabs onto one of her mannequins before going back down to her currently skinless victim and his two landwhale companions.

She moved the skinned corpse from its place and tossed it carelessly into the corner. The rest of his parts could be useful, but for now it was the skin that was truly valuable. Rarity repeated her previous process on the landwhale brony that had been in the middle before the removal of the dead loser. This time however, she marveled from behind her gas mask, which she'd had to put on due to the basement being filled with noxious gas. Truly despite these two being beta males, they farted like full-blown super-alpha stallions.

Honestly the attempted display of flatulence-based dominance by the the two was starting to turn her on, to the point where she inserted a vibrator that made fart-noises to stimulate her while she worked. The vibrator did its job as she did hers, and eventually, as she was smashing the fat brony's testicles into dust, she came all over the floor.

When she turned around, she slipped on her own ejaculate like it was a banana peel, and was instantly greeted by sad trombone noises and a laugh track.

The one brony whose testicles still remained roared with laughter through the dildo in his mouth, causing Rarity to blush.

A little flustered and still dripping from her no-no zone, Rarity tentatively got back to work, having to resort to using a thicker blade to pierce all the way through the pachyderm-like flesh hanging limply from this cleverly-disguised beached manatee. As she attempted to fillet its gnarled hide, puffs of gas escaped through the newly-created holes, giving Rarity a bit of a stiffy down low if you catch my driftwood. She pulled back slightly, attempting to hide her emerging chub monster before realizing there was no one around to see.

Even embarrassed as she was, gas continued to leak from pockets below the brony's flesh serving to excite her further. Before she knew it, she was at full mast, and she just itched for the kind of a release a vibrator could never give. She bit her lip, eyeing the percolating flesh with a lust she had never felt before. But it was a brony, she thought, no way she'd do something so sensual to one of them. Her mind was telling her no, but her body... her body was telling her yes.

Not that anyone would ever know, she began to reason to herself. Bronies didn't have feelings she rationalized, realizing there wasn't actually anything wrong with what she was planning on doing. Perhaps it was just her testosterone-filled brain spurring her on, but at this point she just didn't care. She stepped forward, mounting the partially-mutilated brony with her front legs. Her pulsating pony dick was clicking Morse code, telling her to get on with it. Without further adieu, she pelvic thrusted forward, plunging her baby-arm-sized 'salami and meatball subway' into the venting hole feeling it imbedding itself in the saucy cavity in between organs.

She gasped as she felt the fart glands in her anus contracting as she pushed a stream of propane-smelling gas through her dick. The brony's desecrated corpse bloated slightly as it was filled with mols of Rarity's gas. Once Rarity's gasses had successfully mixed with that of the brony's, it began to suck them back in, reducing the size of the brony, but also barely making a dent in his total mass.

Then her dick began to exenterate the occupied brony's husk, slurping at the contents of the body cavity and sucking the organs in through its urethra mouth and happily munching away at every morsel of flesh it sucked out of the rapidly deflating autism-incarnate.

As the massive chunks of fat, organs and bones made their way through Rarity's penile tract, they were further diced into a fine human paste by the system of microscopic worker crabs that Rarity had formed a symbiotic relationship with. They happily clacked away at their meal as it moved to Rarity's internal matter compressor, where it was compounded into pure dark matter and shipped off to her fuel tanks by a system of ringworms, greatly increasing her overall magical power.

"Truly there is no fuel source for the pony body quite like human flesh," said Rarity with a satisfied smirk. Looking down, she realized that she had completely hollowed out the massive brony, and that in this state, converting his skin into useable materials would be much easier, she considered it efficient to simply repeat the process with the final brony, allowing her to swiftly cut up the skin and place it upon her mannequins. Taking but a moment to admire the skin in the sunlight coming through her window, she then procured her sewing materials and got to work.

Thankfully, she knew just what to make for all her customers as they were her friends. They were the only ones in this bumpkin town that could possibly afford her services anyway, and they'd each ordered an outfit. As she started sewing, she couldn't help but begin singing.

Thread by thread, stitching it together

Brony-skin coat, cutting out the patterns snip by snip

Making sure the skin flaps folds nicely

It’s the perfect texture and so thick

The mouth bit must be good tasting

Making sure the flesh’ correctly facing

I’m stitching Twilight’s coat

Slab by slab, fussing on the details

Scrote neck line, I can clear the stench with some keylime

I’ll shut her mouth with a skin lid

‘cuz she’s fucking retarded

Gotta mind those finger nails,

Long enough to cover tails

It’s Applejack’s trench coat

Trilby making's easy, for Pinkie Pie flesh that’s pink

Fluttershy something meaty

Blend wrinkles and curves

Do you think it looks cheesy?

This part’s got a rash, I can’t help but retching

Got some sweat in my eye, I’m about to cry

Making sure it fits forelock and back

Gotta sew up this butt crack

Make sure it rides high on the flank

So Rainbow Dash looks like a scank

I’m stitching Rainbow’s coat

Piece by piece, snip by snip

Croup, dock, haunch, shoulders, hip

Slab by slab, tanned and stretched

Trilbies are the best

And that's the art of the coat!

Finishing up with her song, she bowed to the audience, and took a few steps back to admire her fine work. Before her were six sets of trench coats and trilbies (commonly referred to as fedoras by the simple-minded masses), one for herself naturally. "Wow, my friends and I are gonna look swank as hell at the Great Gatspy Gala in exactly four months from now," she sputtered in excruciating excitement.

Then she noticed something out of the corner of her humongous eye. The muscles in her neck swung on pistons of steel causing her head to tilt 30 degrees on its axis to see what she could see, see, see. It was none other than Opaul, her darling pet turtle!

"Hey Opaul(short for Opaulblartmallcop), how are you doing?"

"Not great," responded Opaul in his turtle voice.

Rarity's face scrunched like a dirty rag after I've finished cumming all over it. "Why's that," she asked, feigning concern.

"I just broke up with my girlfriend," he stated, "but don't worry."

"Why not?" Asked Rarity.

"Because I know SHELL be back."

Rarity did a 360 and walked away.

Then, exactly four months later Rarity and her friends showed up to the Great Gatspy Gala wearing their cool new Brony-skin coats and trilbies. They were the cream of the crop, the talk of the town, wasn't no one as cool around.

And they all got laid.

The End