Second Person

by Applejinx

Rating: teen
Tags: Pinkie Pie, Sex, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Romance
Length: 2666

Sensual Fiction with a difference!

Sensual Fiction with a difference! This is an exploration of the concept of second person. It's said that in a second person story, 'you' are the reader, the subject is what's depicted in the story, and yet there is indeed a second person, an unseen person, and to learn the identity of this person you must ask who is doing the telling...

Published 2012-04-20 03:34:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-20 03:34:01 UTC

Second Person

She bounces into sight, and it’s as if lights switch on somewhere. It makes no sense—she is just an ordinary earth pony, with a crazy poofed-out pink mane and a disconcerting way of staring directly into your eyes. This, you notice, because she is suddenly staring at you.

“Oooh—new pony!” she cries, and your jaw drops.

An orange earth pony with apples on her flank reproves her. “Pinkie! Y’all bein’ rude an’ starin’ and such.”

You cough, uncomfortably. “No, it’s all right—I mean, she’s right. I am new around here.”

The orange pony blinks. “No kiddin’? Well, now, never mind Pinkie’s lack o’ manners, where are mine? I’m Applejack, and this here is Pinkie Pie. What’s your name? You been in town long?”

You tell her, and you explain, “I’m travelling. I’m staying the night, and in the morning I’m continuing on to Fillydelphia.”

“That sounds fine!” says Applejack. “Who ya stayin’ with, sugarcube?”

“I hope hotels here aren’t too expensive?”

Applejack and Pinkie Pie glance at each other, startled, and when Applejack looks back at you, her expression is dismayed. “Honey, did you see a hotel around here? I ain’t sure who you been talkin’ to, but we got ourselves a problem.”

The funny thing is, her dismay isn’t shared by her companion. Pinkie Pie’s smile grows and grows, and her eyes seem to quiver with delight. They’re fixed on you. Only you.

You look down. It’s a little overwhelming. “Maybe I’d better hit the road, then. I don’t know anypony here.”

The next thing you know, you feel a nuzzling at the top of your mane, and you look up, quickly. As your head comes up, you blink, because Pinkie’s muzzle is right there, and meets yours in a kiss. Her eyes are quivering even more up close like this.

“You do now!” she chirps, and bounces in place, pleased with herself.

Why does Applejack look worried?

Maybe that’s none of your business.

“Well, I know your names,” you say, “but I don’t want to be a burden…”

“There, y’see, Pinkie, our new friend don’t want to be a burden, so we ought to respect that an’ be on our…”

Applejack’s cut off by the interposing of a pink pony body, shoving her out of the way and taking her place before you. Pinkie bounces, a huge grin on her face. “You won’t be! You won’t be!”

“I ain’t sure about this, Pinkie…” says Applejack. She really does look worried. It’s ridiculous of her to be this worried. And it’s none of her business, anyway, is it?

Pinkie silences her. “Applejack! We are going to offer our wonderful new friend some Ponyville hospitality, so don’t even argue with me!”

Applejack gulps. “Jes’ hospitality? You mean, like, hospitality hospitality?”

Pinkie gives her an unexpectedly sharp eye. “Yes! Hospitality hospitality. Not to be confused with mud-pie hospitality or unabridged dictionary hospitality. Okay?”

Applejack’s undaunted. “I’m jes’ thinkin’ that…”

“Too much thinking, not enough partying! I know just what we’re going to do now.”

“That’s what Ah was afraid of…”

Pinkie whirls to face you again. “We’re going to Sugarcube Corner? Have you ever been to Sugarcube Corner? If you never went to Sugarcube Corner it’s the very first and last place you have to go, besides which it is the best place ever, such a best place that I even live there, I mean how much more best could it even be?”

Applejack seems to be sulking. “Y’all gonna deprive our new friend of a proper dinner. Why don’t you come with me, darlin’, and we’ll find you some nice alfalfa and some apples, maybe? I got a barn over to Sweet Apple Acres. It maybe ain’t the most cozy thing but I reckon it’ll keep ya more,” and here she glances at Pinkie, “healthy.”

“Your barn?” squeaks Pinkie, in outrage. “Your cold, drafty, barn?”

“My barn ain’t drafty!”

“Please don’t argue about me!” you protest.

At this, Pinkie lifts her chin with a hmph. “There is no argument, because there is only one thing to do! And it begins with a P and ends with a Y! And it’s not ‘Pony’ though it includes pony, and it’s not ‘persnickety’ because I don’t think our new friend is going to be that though you need to be careful, Applejack, or you’ll be persnickety and how would you like it if you were persnickety, huh? Not only would that be terrible, but it has ‘snicket’ in it and how could you go through the day knowing you were something that went snicket snicket snicket all the time? You’d trot down the street, and all the time you’d be going snicket, snicket, snicket, snicket…”

Pinkie’s advancing on Applejack all this time, and it’s amazing to watch—the country pony tries to stand her ground, but the torrent of words literally drive her back. Works every time… in the end, she turns and runs off, down the street. You watch her go. In the distance, you hear her crying “Twiliiight! She’s doin’ it again!” and then a wall of pink blocks your view.

Pinkie’s kissing you again. You blink, and she breaks away, bounces in place, and says, “That got rid of her! Now come on, we have to race to Sugarcube Corner! I’ll explain on the way!”

The next thing you know, you’re cantering along, nearly at a gallop, following her. You’re following her awful closely, too. She can feel your breath on her bouncing rump. It’s a very nice rump, rounded into eager curves, the cottoncandy tail flying in the breeze. You catch yourself staring, and you put on a little extra speed and pull alongside her, and you’re blushing. “Explain?” you say.

Pinkie Pie glances at you, and the amusement and playfulness in that one glance—it takes your breath away. But you’ll be needing that breath for a little while longer! You have to get to Sugarcube Corner!

“I have a few special needs,” she giggles, “and I can’t take care of them every day! I’m so happy you came here!”

She springs forward, devouring the ground beneath her flying hooves with incongruous grace, and you’re left chasing her tail again—and staring. It’s got you wondering what sort of special needs she means. You’re in a special position to find out. Specifically, you’re trying to catch up to her, and Pinkie Pie’s playfully blocking you, her tail flying high. It’s like she wants you behind her, confronted with her bouncing rump. It’s an awfully nice rump. You just thought that again, didn’t you?

As you approach a building that looks like it’s roofed with gingerbread complete with frosting, Pinkie springs into the air and flips, and suddenly you’re looking at her beaming face, all her legs spread to enfold you, and she cries out two words you’ve never heard combined before.

“HUG BRAKES!”

The next thing you know, you’re embracing in the air, and before you can say “wait a minute, we were running to…” you’ve crashed to the ground and you’re bouncing and tumbling, wrapped in a tight hug, until you come to a stop, her underneath you. You’re disheveled and dusty and grinning like a maniac, inches from her face. That smile of hers makes your heart pound. Your whole body is pressed against hers, from chest to… yeah.

“Is this… the place?” you pant. You can’t stop grinning. You’ve been hijacked by joy.

“Oh, that’s SO the place,” smirks Pinkie. You’re blushing even worse. It’s adorable.

You glance around, alarmed, because you hear running hoofbeats. It’s Applejack, again, and she’s got a purple unicorn with her.

“Oh, thank goodness!” says the unicorn, “we’re not too late!”

“To join us for danishes and candy?” says Pinkie Pie, under you. “It’s never too late for that!”

“Actually, I was thinking…”

“Thinking schminking!” replies Pinkie, and squirms, rubbing against you in a startlingly personal way. You gasp, and jump to your feet, and before you can blink the pink pony is up as well, between you and the new arrival, and you’re staring at her ass again. She is in a good mood, isn’t she?

“Well, I’m thinking, too,” she says, “and I’m thinking you’re UP to something! Almost like you don’t want me to have fun with my new friend! Huh? Is that nice? Is it?”

The purple unicorn glances at Applejack, then back again. “It’s just that some KINDS of fun…”

Pinkie stomps her hoof. “Says you! Who’s the fun expert around here? Huh?”

The purple unicorn looks like she’s about to claim to be the fun expert, despite this being entirely ridiculous, but before she can say anything, Pinkie’s turned to you. Behind her, you see Applejack scoping her hindquarters, and gulping anxiously.

“We shall have danishes!” announces Pinkie. “Danishes and candy! Nopony’s gonna stop us from having our danishes and candy. It’s like having dessert first, because that’s exactly what it is, because some things are really, really sweet. So sweet that you can’t put them off for another moment. So sweet that you really, really, really want them. Know what I mean?”

You gaze into Pinkie’s eyes, and you have a feeling you know exactly what she means. Applejack looks stricken, shaking her head in dismay. The purple unicorn doesn’t look happy, either. They’re clearly not the fun experts.

“Now, come along,” says Pinkie, and you accompany her into the building. You’re starting to grin again. You’ve never been so shanghaied in all your life, and you’re getting caught up in it. And my oh my, are you getting a fondness for that quivering rump, the delightful eager shape of her. You’re the answer to an unasked question. The answer is yes. The path to that answer seems to involve danishes, and candy.

Behind you, Applejack and the purple unicorn rush off once more.

Behind the counter at Sugarcube Corner, a matronly pony presides. “Hello, Pinkie. New friend?”

“Bigtime!” replies Pinkie Pie, rubbing against you and beaming another spectacular smile out at all and sundry.

“That’s nice!” replies the shopkeeper pony. She’s not too bright, is she? Pinkie is being mind-numbingly obvious. You figure it must be normal for her.

“So, I want two danishes and some candy and another danish and I’ll decorate it myself, okay?” says Pinkie. “I can ring it up, too. My treat!”

She does so, as the matronly pony retreats to a back room. Pinkie seems to be permitted to run the store, and she gets out the danishes herself, an assortment of candy, and gets pink icing and sprinkles from a top shelf. She puts the danishes on a plate, and squeezes the icing tube to make a little heart on one of them, a heart with a spot and a line, decorated with sprinkles.

She then pounces and eats the other two danishes, seemingly in one bite. Her tongue seems too big and too… dexterous, to be real.

You blink in shock. “I thought we were going to share those!”

Pinkie beams at you. “This is yours!”

“Oh, okay…”

Her eyes twinkle. “It’s like having a dessert before a dessert, so it counts as having dessert first, first! For when you can’t wait for dessert first! Or I guess if you don’t want to have dessert first… last?”

You stare at the danish. “I’ve never seen a heart with a spot and a line before.”

Pinkie’s amusement doubles, triples. She bounces in place, her curls flying, and giggles.

“That’s not a heart! Come on, eat it, eat it! Eat that first!”

You choke, taken aback. “F…first?” you say, and then you feel Pinkie’s face nuzzling yours.

“I save the BEST for last…” she croons.

“Even better than dessert?”

Pinkie nods, smugly, supremely confident. “Uh-huh.”

Impressed, you eat the danish. It’s delicious. It’d have to be.

You eye the candy, while Pinkie eyes you and licks her lips sensuously, but then you’re distracted by a crash and a blur of motion, cerulean-blue colored. A pegasus has flown in through a window and crashed into the counter.

You glance back at Pinkie and she looks outraged. The blue pegasus flaps her wings frantically, trying to get up. “Hey! Hey, you gotta listen…”

But you apparently don’t—because Pinkie’s hooked your foreleg in hers, and suddenly you’re in another room. You blink, taken aback, because you only remember a sensation of hallway and stairs and suddenly there you are in another place. How did she do that? More to the point, are you pleased with her doing it?

Pinkie is kicking a large chest of drawers in front of the door, and expostulating. “Some ponies! I tell you, ponies just do not have an appreciation of the good things in life. I’m not saying they don’t understand, because maybe they do, but I am saying you can’t let them get you down. Right? ‘Cause we haven’t had the best yet, and we’d better hurry while there’s time! There’s best for you, and then there’s best for me, which when you add them together means the best for everypony! And I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to let anything get in my way!”

You realize you’re staring at Pinkie’s butt again. Could it be the excitement and danger that’s making this special for her? You realize you’re grinning again. It had never occurred to you that being hijacked by a crazy pony would be so satisfying. It had never occurred to you how well you’d like Ponyville.

It occurs to you very much as Pinkie Pie trots over and begins licking your neck.

“Oh yes!” she croons.

Your smile threatens to take off the top of your head. It suits you.

You sink into Pinkie Pie’s wild, eager, so-alive eyes—and then you both blink, for you’re hearing hoofsteps running up the stairs, and Applejack’s voice. “This has gone far enough!”

“Oh, no, it hasn’t!” you pant. You’re going cross-eyed with desire, dizzy.

Pinkie glances at the door, hooks your foreleg in hers again, and—did you really just go out the window? And into another window, higher in the building? It’s dim here, and it’s quiet again. The only sound is the hot, heavy panting of you and Pinkie Pie, whose body is trembling with desire, whose mouth hangs open yearningly, who lays back onto the floor and reaches out and…

Yes. YES.

You take her, and the best was the last. Oh yes. Your mind melts into love candy, and you revel in it until you are exhausted.

You lie with Pinkie, trembling, dazed, all your energies spent, your head on her chest, your body a boneless sprawl. She doesn’t mind. She strokes your mane. She leans forward and licks you again, with a secret smile.

“Your ‘the best’,” she breathes, softly.

You nuzzle her body, her delicious body. “You think so?”

“That makes me feel good,” she sighs, blissed. “I’ll enjoy mine extra much now that you’ve had yours.”

It seems like an odd answer, but you’re very sleepy. You thought she’d enjoyed hers already—or yours, might be a better way to put it. Indeed, she had, so you’re not going to puzzle over a simple little remark. Not now. You’re so sleepy.

And you don’t suspect anything’s wrong for even the eensiest, briefest little moment.

Do you?

Pinkie sighs, and holds you close, petting you—your bodies sated, saturated with pleasure. It feels like the most delicious satisfaction and lassitude filling your every muscle. You might never move again and still be satisfied, as the loving darkness enfolds you and your amazing new lover. It feels like you’re merging, becoming one with each other, wrapped in a forever embrace.

And she feels, to you, like the most charming, delightful companion you could ever hope for. You’d like to be a part of her, and it seems like something in her lights up at the thought.

She smiles back at you, and your world is complete.

And, oddly enough…

You feel like a snack.