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        Scootaloo and the Lost Horn of King Sombra         
                    -by Oatmeal Beast-                     
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           Scootaloo's Horny Funtime [Explicit]            
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Scootaloo's Horny Funtime [Explicit]
In the bedroom of an old house on the east side of Ponyville sat a little orange pegasus, and in that filly's hooves rested an even tinier orange pegasus, though the smaller one was made of fabric. The little filly held up the doll, rattling it in her hoof as she said, "Why are you always so mean to me?"
She brought up her other hoof, which held a similar pony-shaped doll, though this one was pink rather than orange. She shook that one, bouncing its purple and white mane as she replied to herself. "Because you don't have a cutie mark, and can't fly, and you're orange and stupid."
"Oh yeah," she spoke for the orange doll, "well, you're a big stupid jerk and I hate you.”
“Well, you're lame and totally not special.”
“You suck.”
“You suck more.”
“You suck most!”
Then Scootaloo slammed the dolls together, making what were unmistakably the sounds of moist, aggressive smooching. “Oh, Diamond,” she said as she mashed the imitation ponies against one another in what one might erroneously call a passionate embrace, “I hate you so much!”
“I hate you more!” she said for the other doll.
This went on for some time, with both fabric dolls vying for domination just above the wooden floor of Scootaloo’s bedroom. Only when a dull, thunder-esque blast reached her tiny ears did Scootaloo’s attention leave what had become passionate doll sex.
Scootaloo whipped around at the sudden noise, bashing her head against the bedpost in her haste. She held a hoof to her newest bruise as she shuffled over to the window, groaning in pain and propping her free hoof up on the sill. There, to the north, beyond Canterlot, was a strange sight. Mighty tendrils of light in a plethora of colors were streaming out from a central point somewhere in the distance, adding a splash of color to the dark evening sky.
Scootaloo smiled, her simple little birdbrain coming to the (wrong) conclusion that Rainbow Dash had done something super awesome to make this new phenomenon, since, you know, it had a bunch of different colors. After a few more seconds of staring in awe, she wiped the drool from her mouth and was about to turn back around when she caught sight of something else outside. There, in the sky, was a little spot of red moving through the air. Scootaloo squinted, trying to make out what it was. Her eyes shot wide, however, as it's apparent size rapidly increased. Then everything went black for the filly as the object smashed through her window and smacked her directly in the forehead.
Scootaloo woke up a few minutes later, peeling her body from the floor and rubbing the sore lump on her forehead. She glanced around the room with clenched teeth, trying to figure out what had happened to her. There was the window, shattered in its frame. There were her dolls, left lying by the foot of her bed. And there, a few feet from her hind hooves, was what must have hit her.
Scootaloo plucked up the foreign object curiously, finding it heavier than she had expected. It was a long, curved shaft that came to a point at one end. The other end was rounded, with a couple of little jagged spots, as though it might have been broken off of something. She turned it in her hooves, looking it over. It was red, mostly, with some dark gray near the base and a spot of gray somewhere around the middle. The surface was smooth and hard, almost like marble. It was warm, too. It reminded her of some sort of animal horn, though not quite like any she'd seen before.
She didn't know what it was, but it must have been something good, right? It must have been a present Rainbow had sent her from... wherever it was that she went yesterday. Dash had said she was going to Canterlot, but that rainbow thingy had been from somewhere else. The thought that the vibrant colors might not have been caused by Rainbow Dash entered her mind briefly, but she quickly shooed it out. Who else could do something like that? Must've been Dash, and this pointy thing must be a gift from her, obviously.
But what the hay was she supposed to do with it? It wasn't food, right? She sniffed it once, and then gave it a quick lick near the tip. To her surprise, the horn-like object pulsed in her hooves as she ran her tongue along its surface. It didn't taste like any food she'd ever had before, and she was pretty sure that food wasn't supposed to hum and pulse like that. She had an idea about what it might have been, now, but she wasn't sure that Dash would send her something like that. Besides, that would be dirty, and gross. Sweetie would call it uncouth. Apple Bloom would call it unnatural. Her parents would probably scold her if they found out she had one, if they were ever actually around and cared about anything she did.
"Ehh, screw it," she said, deciding that she would do just that. She'd never gotten to the most fun parts of her little role-playing before, anyway, and was still feeling a little pent up.
Scootaloo shut her door and pulled the curtains over her broken window before climbing up onto her bed. She giggled a little as she settled in against the sheets, her little hooves quivering with anticipation already. She'd never had one of these before, but she'd heard about them. She'd even seen a few in stores sometimes, usually with less-than-clever titles, like, "Stress Relieving Massager." Like that ever fooled anypony. She'd never seen one quite like this, but Dash had sent it to her, so it must be good. Dash is awesome, after all, and never settled for second-best. If it was good enough for Dash, it was good enough for Scootaloo.
She rolled onto her back, her hind legs hanging limp just above her green sheets. She picked up the implement in her hooves again, giving it a final examination before lowering it between her rear legs. Hooves shaking a little, she brought it down gently, barely caressing her slit and sighing at the feel of the horn's heat against her. Her breathing steadily grew in speed as she tugged on the horn, sliding it forward and back across herself in a tentatively-building rhythm.
She chuckled a little, thinking about what her parents would probably say if they walked in on her, but her laughs stopped with a gasp as she felt a new sensation. The red object had started humming in her hooves again, pulsing and vibrating all on its own. Scootaloo's head fell back against her pillow as she hummed back at the device, pushing it against her lower lips a little harder. Her hips bucked slightly of their own accord, both the horn-shaped implement and her own nether region getter warmer with each passing second.
All her movement stopped dead, however, as a strange sound reached her ears for the second time that night. It was a rumbling, a grinding, a growling like some sort of alien creature from the depths of Tartarus itself. The noise was accompanied by a sudden pulse of heat from the horn-like object as well.
Scootaloo propped herself up on one foreleg, ears standing alert, her eyes scanning the room for the source of the sound. Everything seemed in order, though. She just shrugged and collapsed back onto the mattress. It was probably nothing. Maybe just a neighbor doing something weird, which was somepony else's problem.
She resumed her previous motions, letting out a little whimper at the touch of her new toy. Her eyes stared up at the ceiling, and after a few more seconds of playing with the horn, she sighed. It was nice and all, but she felt something was missing. Her head pitched down toward her hind hooves, tilting sideways a little as she looked at the pair of dolls left almost forgotten on the floor. A crooked smirk made itself at home on her face, and she leaned back against the pillow once again, closing her eyes.
"Hey, blank flank," the antagonist in her mind said.
"Hey, jerkwad," Scootaloo muttered to herself as she slid the horn back and forth, coating it in the moisture that was steadily building in her nethers. "What're you doing here?”
"I'm here to make fun of you because I'm a big, stupid jerk," the semi-fictional pink filly replied in her head.
"Yeah, well, uh," Scootaloo paused, eyes flitting this way and that as she racked her tiny brain for some manner of insult. She’d never been great with comebacks. "Oh, whatever. Come'ere, you filthy whorse." Scootaloo's head moved toward the ceiling a little, but one eye cracked open as she hesitated. She quickly rolled herself over, shoving her muzzle into the pillow instead. Now this, she had down. She wouldn't exactly have called herself a "pillow make-out expert," because that would imply that she was super lame and didn't have anything better to do than kiss pillows, but she was close.
Her left forehoof slid up along the sheet and under the rapidly-moistening pillow, while her other hoof held the horn in place beneath her shifting hips. She stopped for a second, pushing herself up to spit out a loose feather, but then resumed as normal once her mouth was free of the unwanted guest. Less-than-sweet nothings were mumbled into the pillow as she wrestled with the antagonist inside her mind, eventually pinning the filly beneath her.
She pulled back, surveying her enemy with a cruel smile. "Hah, gotcha now," she hissed.
The filly beneath her sneered in defiance as she struggled to free herself. “Y-you think this is… enough to stop Diamond Dazzle Tiara?” Diamond Tiara panted back, her eyes glazed over.
Scootaloo's grin widened ever-so-slightly, and she reached a hoof up. With a single flick, she knocked the tiara from her opponent's head. Diamond's eyes went wide for half a second before narrowing into a glare. "Pick that up," Diamond growled.
"Make me," Scootaloo said.
Scootaloo hopped up, wings buzzing, and spun herself above her mattress. She landed on her back, the soaked pillow having been sent to the floor. She leered back at the imaginary filly that now straddled her. Diamond broke into a sadistic grin as Scootaloo weakly thrashed under her. "If you insist, you pathetic dodo," the Earth pony remarked.
Scootaloo gripped the horn with both hooves again, working the curved shaft along her moist cavern.
"Get… off of me!" Scootaloo half-heartedly demanded as she pushed against Diamond Tiara, who merely cackled at the filly's lack of strength.
"Admit it," she whispered, leaning her muzzle down to Scootaloo's ear. "You want me to domineight you, don't you, you filthy little bird?" Diamond asked, earning a gasp from Scootaloo.
"Never!" Scootaloo said through her excited smile, the mere thought causing her to clamp down on the horn. Diamond Tiara giggled, pulling back as she ran one of her exquisitely-polished hooves down Scootaloo's face. The hoof wandered further, down along the pegasus's neck and over her ribs, finally coming to rest just a few inches from the horn still pressed against Scootaloo's crotch.
"Beg for it," Diamond Tiara demanded, hovering above Scootaloo with her trademarked sadistic grin. The pegasus shook her head, and Diamond's grin widened. She leaned in again, planting an imaginary kiss against the real filly's lips. Kisses were left in a trail along Scootaloo, moving along her jawline, across her neck, and down to her stomach.
"I… will… not… submit!" Scootaloo cried out as she watched Diamond Tiara.
Diamond Tiara finally reached Scootaloo's teats, nipping lightly at them for a moment before she shifted further down the bed. She leered at Scootaloo from under her brow, and then gently began blowing at the spot where the ever-hotter horn connected to Scootaloo, causing the young pegasus to whimper in delight.
"D-Diamond Tiara…" Scootaloo mumbled as tears formed upon her eyes. She grew ever wetter as she neared her climax, her breaths heavy and short.
"Beg for it, you cock-jockeying cum dumpster."
"P-please…" Scootaloo whined.
"Beg!" Diamond repeated.
"I-I beg of you, Diamond Tiara! Domineight this filthy whorse!" Scootaloo begged, each exhalation a whimper for release.
"As you wish," Diamond whispered, grasping the horn in her teeth.
Half a second later, and a squeal shot from the little pegasus's lips, her hind hooves kicking by themselves as a burst of pleasure punched her in the groin like a sackful of lemons. Her head was thrust back into the mattress, all four fetlocks curling, half around the still-buzzing horn as it was furiously worked against her dripping entrance. Alongside her cry of release came a deep, throbbing sound, as though Vinyl Scratch had just moved in next door and decided it was time to introduce the neighbors to her subwoofers.
Scootaloo's labored breath caught in her throat, her eyes held wide as a low growl seethed into being, seemingly from the air around her. It sounded almost like… almost like a pony was making it from somewhere inside her room.
She sat up again, the now-slippery horn sliding from her grip. "Hello?" she asked, her voice slightly scratchy. She waited a few seconds, but no answer came. She leaned out from the edge of the bed, checking her curtained window, but she didn't see any shadows coming in from the street lamps outside. She turned, hanging her head down and pulling up the sheet to expose the empty space beneath her bed. She had just enough time to see that there wasn't anything there before she slid off the green sheets and landed head-first on the floor.
Her rump hit the wooden flooring, and she slowly got to her hooves, groaning a little. What was with things hitting her head that day? She crawled back up onto her bed, her tiny wings taking some of the load off, and reclined against the now-damp sheets. One hoof held to her head and one plucking up the hot horn again to rest it between her hind legs, Scootaloo sucked in a slow breath and let out an even slower one, savoring what little there was left of her orgasm.
That's about when the bedroom door burst open with a "hey Scootaloo" as her parents forced their way inside. Scootaloo squawked like the chicken she was, her hooves flailing in panic and the horn flying out of their grasp. She pulled her plaid sheet up quickly, covering up her drenched lower half.
"Mom, dad, what’re you doing here?"
"Just reminding you that we're your parents, Scootaloo," said her father, "and that we exist and live in a house together."
Scootaloo just stared at them with wide, slightly-confused eyes.
Her mother cut in. "He means that we're here if you need anything, sweetie."
"Oh, uh, okay then. Thanks," Scootaloo mumbled as the door shut. She waited a few seconds, listening to the sound of her parent's hoofsteps getting quieter, and then she sprang from the bed. Her tiny, slippery hooves carried her across the room slowly, her head hung low as she scanned the floor for the horn she'd accidentally tossed away. She didn't see it anywhere. Where could it have gone?
Meanwhile, a cream-colored pegasus came to a stop just outside the bedroom window, her ice-blue eyes staring down at the strange object in front of her hooves. She tilted her head to one side, and then a smile broke out on her face. "Yes," she hissed, picking up the horn-like object. "With this horn, I shall become a true princess, and win Diamond Tiara’s—wait, what's that smell?" She lifted the horn, sniffing it briefly before reeling with an expression of disgust.
"Hey, what'th that, Alula?" inquired Twist as she stepped over to the grimacing filly.
"I dunno, but it's yours now." Alula hoofed over the horn to Twist before turning and trotting away to do whatever it was she was going to do before stopping to look at the horn on the ground and then thinking about how she could use it to pretend to be a princess so that Diamond Tiara would love her and whisk them both away to a far-off land where they would spend the rest of their days in each other's hooves.
Twist just stared down at the horn on her hoof for a second before taking a whiff, a smile coming to her as well. "Ooh, a thinnamon thtick! Thankth!" And she walked away, suckling on it.