"There's a pony violently masturbating in the café area."
I look up from the plates I'm stacking. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
My boss stares at me for a while, like she's expecting me to do something about this.
"Well, get the police or something. That isn't my job."
"That won't work," she says. "The law only applies to exposed fur and skin. This pony isn't made of either."
My interest is piqued, I'll give her that much. "What?"
"See for yourself."
There, indeed, was a naked pony masturbating in the café area. He was splayed out upon the brick wall surrounding the garden, humping it like a possessed, insane animal.
That was, sadly, the normal part of the scene.
"He's transparent," I get out. I turned my head. "Why is he transparent?"
My boss shrugs. "Look inside."
I don't particularly want to, but I oblige. There's no internal organs or anything visible inside him, just some dark, bubbling, sloshing substance.
"Is that… soda?"
"Coca-Cola, to be precise."
"He's made of soda."
"He's a coke pony."
"That is the stupidest fucking thing I've heard."
"It's some unicorn magic shit or something." My boss can be awfully racist when she wants to be. "Anyway, as you probably noticed, this is a problem."
"Clearly."
"No one's going to use the Coca-Cola vending machine when there's an infinite supply being cummed out right next to the tables."
"...right."
She touches me on the shoulder. Not good. "I'll give you the rest of the day off if you sleep with him."
I shrink back. "Why?"
"Look at him. Do you think anything else is going to get him out of here?"
He comes again, releasing his carbonated sugary load all over the wall and into a couple desperate people's plastic cups.
Admittedly, he is pretty hot.
"Fine," I say, and take off my apron. I approach the horny pony, who looks at me with puppy dog eyes. "Come on," I say, and pull him up. Almost immediately he starts fondling himself. "Geez, can't you do anything else? Come on, let's get to my place."
About halfway out, he grabs onto me, shivers, and drips what is presumably pre-cum onto the ground. It's still just soda, though.
It's going to be a long walk.
I begin to wonder if he's ever not hard. As we walk through town, he drips a near constant stream of coke through his dick. Sometimes, he acts like he's moaning in pleasure, but I can't really tell. He has a working face, but appears to have no vocal cords to speak of.
People stare, but not too much. This isn't an entirely unusual sight anymore.
You see, it turns out that massive ingenuity, unlimited stamina, and insatiable arousal are a bit of a lethal combination. And so, it came to pass that, when Princess Twilight Sparkle ascended to alicornhood, her heat cycles got a bit… interesting.
Yes, the rumors are true. Alicorns have stupidly intense heat cycles. When they go into heat, they don't merely get horny, they're constantly aroused to the point where they can hardly think straight. For an entire week, they become basically a giant screwing machine. The princesses hid this the best they could, but Twilight threw a bit of a wrench into that. Her first time, she rendered half the library unusable, and very, very unsanitary. After that, she was more cautious, but still, everyone knew when she was in season.
Then something unusual happened.
While horny out of her mind, she got an idea. A very complicated, sexy, scientific idea. She got out a couple whiteboards, began madly scribbling around, cast a spell, and in one fell swoop, unlocked the holy grail of magic.
She made sentient life from nothing.
It would have been the scientific discovery of the century, aside from one small problem.
She could only remember how to do it while in heat.
And while she was in heat, she wasn't exactly thinking about long-term consequences.
Her creations were quite often hideously strange and horribly unstable. They could live for only a couple of weeks before their bodies failed them. They were designed to withstand a week of nonstop sex, after all, not for longevity.
After the deed's done, some of them realize what they are, and they want to try to live a normal life in town. When they have only a week left, it's hard to deny them that. So, we've gotten used to Twilight's sex demons roaming Ponyville. We know the horrible fate these creatures have been born into, and after everything we've learned about friendship, we can't bring ourselves to simply kill them.
No one takes it harder than Twilight. She can't even stop herself from doing it. From creating new spawn, doomed to a short, painful life…
One week of sex, one week of freedom, and then… death.
I suspect that's soda boy's story. I mean, where else could he have come from?
And if he's good for nothing but sex, I might as well give him it.
After an admittedly difficult journey, we finally reach my house. I shove him inside as gently as possible and lock the door. I'm fairly brazen, but even that was a bit much for me. He left a fairly consistent stream of soda across most of the town, and he did so as obscenely as possible. It made me blush, and that takes a lot.
But now, we're alone.
Finally, he can do whatever he wants.
And, more importantly, I can do whatever I want to him.
Well, I think, I am a bit thirsty. I lean over to the soda boy's dick and lick the tip.
I get a face full of soda as a result.
Maybe foreplay isn't the best idea with this one. I lick some of the soda off my face and clamp my mouth around his shaft.
I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it has a very odd texture. He's made out of glass, but the glass is slightly pliable. When I bite down, it depresses a bit. It must be so he can move.
I start sucking as hard as I can, and I can feel him harden even more. His body starts shaking, and he releases a stream of precum most guys would be proud to call their load. I taste it. It's soda, all right, but it's a bit less flavorful than what I was expecting.
Then, I feel him shiver, and I know it's coming. A surge runs through his dick. His hips buckle. His tail twitches. He comes quite impressively, forcefully jizzing gallon after gallon of soda into my mouth. I lap up as much as I can, but he releases so much so fast I have to disengage very quickly in order to breathe. He comes all over me, ruining my clothes, and immediately falls to the ground and starts masturbating, releasing yet more. Finally, he stops, his orgasm finally over, but he's not done, not by any means. He starts rubbing himself off on the floor, trying to get hard again.
I sit there, amazed, aroused, and covered in soda. That was one orgasm, and he completely covered me and part of my wall in his seed. Oh, I was going to enjoy this. Imagine what he could do if penetration was involved?
"Let's... go up to my room," I say, walking up the stairs and removing my wet shirt. I can see him get hard again. Good. I put my hand down my pants and stroke my dick. When I'm this hard, my hand hardly even fits around it.
We reach the top. I open the door, and lead him inside. I start removing the rest of my clothes, and I feel him jizz another short burst of soda on me.
I know where that's going to go next time.
Finally nude, and quite hard myself, I go over to my nightstand, open the bottom drawer, and take out a bottle of lube. I'm not sure how much friction living glass has, and I'm not sure I want to know. When in doubt, lube more. That's what I say.
I walk towards him slowly. He's fidgeting around a bit. Finally, he's not touching himself. He must know I've got something in store for him. I motion towards the bed, and he leans against it, his tail raised, swishing expectingly, exposing his perfectly formed ass.
I twist the top off the bottle, dip my fingers inside, and gently massage his cheeks, letting them linger around his hole. He likes this, I can tell. When I knead a particularly sensitive spot, his head rises in euphoria, his body shakes, ever so slightly, and he squirts a bit onto the bed.
Oh, this is going to be messy, I can tell. But it is so going to be worth it.
I rub some onto my own dick for good measure. It takes nearly all of my willpower to not come then and there. But I don't. That would defeat the purpose.
Soda boy looks back at me, clearly impatient. He starts rubbing himself against the bed.
Oh no. I'm not going to give him that chance.
I grab his tail, lift it up, and jam myself in. Instantly, he tightens around me, and I grind against his body, feeling every inch of his cold skin against mine. His mouth hangs open, his eyes looking at nothing in particular, slightly more incoherent than usual. His dick, completely erect, lies on the bed, spraying the sheets with voluminous bursts of soda with every thrust. I can feel the wave of pleasure coarse through me, and I thrust one last time, coming. I fill him with my seed, load after load, my body on complete autopilot, jamming and thrusting and grabbing with reckless abandon, everything becoming an incomprehensible blur of euphoria.
Then, I jam a little too hard, and I hear a crack, almost like glass breaking.
Oops.
