The Legend of Epic Sax Spike

The Legend of Epic Sax Spike: A Tale of Wonder and Unparalleled Satisfaction

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Chapter 2: Four Walls of Freedom and Understanding

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Spike began to strut down the crowded Ponyville streets, as the Black Seeds’ “Fire” started to play in his head. As his hips gyrate to the chunky grooves manifesting within his subconscious, he shoots admirable looks towards the on-looking mares and fillies, receiving giggles and amorous waves from the coloured beauties in return. He continues to bob his head to the hypnotic rhythm, when his funky trance is broken abruptly by a giant pink nuisance.

“HIYA, SPIKE!” the bubbly Earth pony (a.k.a. “personality ponies”, relying on their personality to be their “special trait”, due to their lack of magic/flying abilities) shouted, shoving her forehead into his.

“WAAAH!! Pinkie, you scared the be-Celestia outta me!” Spike responded, jumping back several hooves.

“Silly Spike, how can you scare someone who’s walking right towards you?” asked the clueless pony, wiggling her rump while keeping eye-level with the annoyed dragon.

“Alright, point taken. So, what’s up?” Spike asked with half-open eyes and crossed arms.

Pinkie responded with a confused look, “Dunno, but Mr. Cake wanted me to stay away from the bakery today. My birthday’s not for another two months, so that can’t be why.”

“Did he mention anything?” Spike asked, now honestly curious.

“All he said was something about Mrs. Cake and somepony made of cotton.” Pinkie said, scratching her head.

“Aah.” Spike responded, now understanding the situation. “Her Aunt Flo’s in town, then?”

“She has an Aunt Flo?! Why would she feel the need to hide her family from me?” Pinkie asked with a slight bit of hurt in her tone.

“Well, it’s kinda… when eggs… what time is it?” Spike asked, detaching from the topic at hand.

“It’s a quarter-after noon, but isn’t that a little late for breakfast?” asked Pinkie, still thinking about his mental quarrel surrounding eggs.

“Oh shoot! I’m late for work!” Spike yelled, jumping with the grace of a terrified cat. With that obvious statement, he bolted towards town, leaving a comical dragon-shaped dust cloud behind.

“Bye, Spike.” Pinkie said lightly, waving her hoof with an even more confused look draped across her face.

As Spike darted into town, thoughts of his last tardiness danced in his head. Boy, was she mad. She made him clean the ink out of every single printer, and then made him stay late to take out all of the recycling from the unread papers of said day. That was punishment for a 5-minute absence; imagine what she’ll have him do with the oncoming 20.

These dark thoughts continued for the remaining trip to the pressroom. He burst through the first set of doors, greeted gloomily by his fellow co-worker. “Featherweight! Is she in yet?” he asked in a panic.

“She came in early today, Spike,” Featherweight began with sad eyes “I haven’t seen much of her, but I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.”

Swallowing the massive lump in his throat, he slowly turned the knob (why do so many doors have handles and knobs, anyway?), and slowly opened the door.

The room was very dark, only the feint glow of the tinted sunshine crept through the printing room. With hesitation, he dragged himself to the center desk at the opposing wall. He stood there, fiddling with his fingers and basking in the awkward silence created with the situation.

After a minute or so, she finally spoke, still facing her elongated chair away from him. “Three stories.”

“I-… I’m sorry?” Spike asked hesitantly.

“Three stories,” she repeats. “That’s how many stories those bumbling stooges of ‘crusaders’ could come up with while you were sitting pretty, not doing your job!” she exclaims, turning around to face him for added effect. “That’s also the height of this building; a height of which I’m greatly considering THROWING YOU OFF!” she screams, lunging forward and snarling at him.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mea-”

“Save it.” She states demandingly, shoving her hoof into his mouth. “Do you think this is a charity (Snapple)? Do you think this is all fun and games? DID I STEP INTO SOME ALTERNATE DIMENSION WHERE SHIT DON’T FLY RIGHT?!?” she screams at him, with blood-lust in her eyes, less-than-mirroring his appalled demeanor. After several moments of heavy panting, she sighs in annoyance at the young dragon shaking before her. “You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“W-What?!” Spike said, quite surprised.

The young pink pony slowly dropped from her chair, and quietly reduced the distance between herself and her employee. She comes within leg’s reach of him, and keeps her head down, masking her face in her purple-and-white mane.

“Dia-” Spike begins to say her name, when she suddenly forces him towards the wall. She slams him into the pure Mahogany finish, and pins his arms against it.

“You listen to me.” Tiara began, “For the time being, I own you,” she removed one of her hooves, and glided it gently down his stomach, “and I can choose to punish you in any way I see fit.” A look of both lust and seriousness now coated her pristine facial landscape. She finally drifted to his private regions, and began pushing forcefully against them. His face contorted with pain and pleasure, as she manipulated his dragonhood with a whim of ease. She slowly released her pressure, and she could see his member protruding from its scaly imprisonment. As the head was made visible, she took it upon herself to jab it back within its private chamber, causing a painful yelp from her employee.

“You’re going to tell me everything I want to know, is that understood?” she asked almost as if it was a statement. He winced with pain and nodded his head, a tear forming in his eye. “Good,” she began rubbing his crotch again, “now, where exactly were you at twelve bells?”

“Uhh,” Spike stammered, “I was… picking up supplies for Twilight?”

“Oh, ‘supplies’?” she asked, centering her rotation on his pleasure zone. “You mean ‘supp-LIES!’” she screamed, jabbing where she believed his testicles lay dormant, obviously landing dead-on, based on his reaction. He squealed like a small filly, and tears filled his illustrious emerald eyes.

“Okay, okay! I was with Steven down by the lake!” he confessed with torture in his eyes. “I was asking him about hair-growth in reptiles!”

“Why on Earth did you want to know that?” Tiara asked, reducing her vice on the poor creature.

“Well, he does look fabulous.” Spike responded, rubbing the back of his head and facing the floor, a slight blush visible on his glorious mug.

“Well, that doesn’t explain the perfume I smell! You got some flank on the side I don’t know about? Last I checked, I’m the only flank you’ve got, so long as you work for me!” she demanded, regaining her grip on his being.

“Aa-AAH! He wanted me to try some fragrances! Said they’d help even out my maturing scents!!” he yelled, pleading with his eyes for mercy.

“’Fragrances?’ ‘Maturing scents?’ What the hell is wrong with you? You sure that’s a dick ‘tween your legs and not some sort o’ prolapsed ‘gine? Ugh, never mind. Just get outta here before I fire you.” Tiara said, rather frustrated. With that, the young dragon bolted out the door, leaving yet another comical dragon-shaped dust cloud behind.

“Well, that could’ve gone worse.” Our young dragon sighs in relief outside the office.

. . .

Third Floor.

“Ugh, this muzak is killing me.” Spike thought to himself, fidgeting to get into his costume properly. It’s times like these that he wishes his suit wasn’t so “skin-tight”.

Seventh Floor.

“Are we seriously not even halfway there, yet?” He continues trying to work out the creases and folds within his latex outerwear, attempting to make sporting the outfit as comfortable as possible.

Thirteenth Floor.

He finally gets the suit on properly, a good twenty seconds before the elevator reaches the top floor. He rushes out, and bolts up the stairs, heading for the roof. He pushes open the metal door and rushes out, only to be stopped by a familiar voice.

“You’re pathetically predictable, like a moth to flame.” The sultry purple unicorn arose from the shadows. “What about my generous proposal? Are you in or are you out?”

Staring intently at the light gravel beneath his feet, he responds, “It’s you who’s out, Twi. Out of your mind.” He turned to her, with tears in his eyes and gritting teeth.

With a sigh, Twilight said “You know, you really are amazing.”

“Some people don’t think so…” he stated, fixing his gaze on the street life hundreds of hooves below.

“But you are.” Twilight said, tilting her head with a soft smile.

He sniffs, raises his head and said with a smile, “Nice to have a fan.”

“Go home dear, you look awful.” She stated with a stern look.

“And you look beautiful…” he softly responded, as Twilight glanced at him with a heavy blush.

She buried her face in her hooves, self-conscious of her own emotional weakness. “Don’t make me look ugly.”

“That’s impossible.” She looked up to see him in legs’ reach of her with a smile on his adorable face.

“You know, you’re taller than you look.” She softly said, almost eye-level with the reptilian creature.

“I hunch.” Spike responded modestly, blissfully unaware of his maturing.

“Don’t.” Twilight said, leaning ever closer to him, but he pushes her away at the last second. “Spike, look. You’re changing. I know. I went through exactly the same thing at your age.”

“No,” Spike began to disagree, “not exactly.” He started to walk back towards the ledge.

“Look, I don’t mean to lecture and I don’t mean to preach. And I know I’m not your father…” Twilight began, only to be interrupted by an oncoming purple runt.

“THEN STOP PRETENDING TO BE!” Spike screamed directly at her face. The words echoed throughout the various concrete structures. Tears began falling down her face, as her emotions took over the conversation.

“I’ve been like a father to you! Be a son to me now!” She returned the anger, her voice trembling.

“I have a father, his name is Princess Celestia” Spike responded, clutching his fists and turning away violently.

She whispered loudly, “No matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, the ones I love will always be the ones who pay.” She then fell to the ground, and openly bawled to the nightly clouds above.

He walked over to her, and placed a claw on her shoulder. “I want you to know, that I will always be there for you; I will always be there to take care of you. I promise you that. I will always be your friend.”

She wiped the fresh tears from her guilt-ridden face, and looked up at him with eyes full of need. “Only a friend, Spike?”

“That’s all I have to give.”

Having said that, the dragon returned to his perch at the building’s ledge. “You do too much; college, a job, all this time with me… You’re not Superman, you know.” The unicorn said with a more worried tone.

“Not everyone is meant to make a difference,” the dragon began, “but for me, the choice to lead an ordinary life is no longer an option.”

“Just remember,” Twilight softly began, making her way to the exit, “with great power, comes great responsibility.”

Who am I, you might ask? You sure you want to know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart. If somepony said it was a happy little tale… if somepony told you I was just your average ordinary guy, not a care in the world… somepony lied. Whatever life holds in store for me, I will never forget those words: “With great power comes great responsibility.” This is my gift, my curse. Who am I? I’m Spider-man.

With those parting thoughts, the young dragon cloaked his face with the crimson mask, and leapt from the building to continue his nightly duties.

To be continued…