Nightmare Night in Ponyville is a relatively familiar experience for you. It mimicked your own native Halloween traditions, with the chatter of young souls and the gentle pounding on doors all being commonplace. Never before had the humans been replaced with ponies, however.
Since your “vacation” to Equestria as a result of a “dimensional-reality anomaly” (according to the the local intellectual Twilight Sparkle), you’ve found yourself the only human being around. Your new resident sentient species, ponies, is a friendly one thankfully. They’ve been doing their best to keep you comfortable while a remedy to the situation is worked out. For the time being, you’ve been staying in the local hotel, with occasional supervision to ensure your safety.
Tonight’s babysitter, as you’ve begun to begrudgingly call him or her, is Rainbow Dash, a hyperactive speedster who’s a good friend of Twilight. Neither of you are happy about the conditions; you’re forced to stay inside in a cramped bedroom to not terrify the foals with your overly-realistic “costume”, and Dash is forced to miss the first few hours of Nightmare Night.
For about an hour now, you’ve been trifling through several books lent to you by your hosts. Dusty tomes about the history of Equestria, a book on the latest years’ fashion, a book about a pegasus called Daring Do… none of it is particularly interesting to you. Waiting has become agonizing at this point. You’re certain that if you spend any more time staring up at the paint strokes on the ceiling, you’ll lose your mind before you can return home.
Rainbow Dash has been in the bathroom for quite a while, you realize as you turn your rise from your resting position on the bed to look around the room. At least half an hour, you figure, bordering on an hour now. She grumbled something about needing a little time in there to “dress up” for later, but there’s certainly no way dressing up takes this long for a mare like Rainbow. Against your best instincts, you shove the books off of your lap and stand up, cracking your inactive joints before navigating around the furniture and heading to the bathroom door.
When you get there, the first thing you notice is that it’s completely silent. You wait for a moment, then a minute or so, and still not a single rustle of clothing or clop of a hoof emanates from the door. If you weren’t so bored, you’d likely have left the situation alone and returned to doing nothing at all. However, you knock. Once again, no response.
There seems to be no light creeping out from the edges of the door. Peculiar, since the bathroom had much brighter lights than the living room. A vague fear sets in your heart as you contemplate the worst. Did she fall ill and pass out in there? Did she abandon you with the door still locked so you can’t escape?
You knock again, rapping your knuckles firmly against the wooden door. When there’s still no response, you call out.
“Dash?” you ask, leaning against the door and speaking into it. You desperately hope she’s not busy with some private act in there, for if she was you had no idea how a mare with her temper would react. You had already noticed a hint of grumpiness when she first entered, but whatever has her occupied in there can’t be making it any better.
In an attempt to coax her out, you place your hand on the door handle and turn it, expecting the clicking of metal to finally evoke a response. To your surprise, however, the handle moves freely. She didn’t lock the door behind her this entire time?
The door opens unopposed. As you expected, the room is pitch black except for the sliver of light pouring in from behind you. The tiled floor seems spotless, taking away some of your previous concerns that she had hit her head or vomited or some other unfavorable occurrence. With the confidence that she simply ditched you to have fun, you swing the door wide open.
In the center of the bathroom floor, a pair of piercing ruby-magenta eyes greets you, wide with alarm. You practically jump backwards, a scream caught in your throat. What the hell was she doing in here on the floor in the darkness?
“Don’t come in!” she screeches, but your finger has already flicked the light switch by that point. The light blinds both of you for a moment, but when the bathroom comes back into focus your jaw practically drops.
Rainbow Dash is kneeling on the floor, suddenly no longer a pony. She’s half-human at this point, her physique like that of a fit human girl while retaining her more ponylike features: her face, tail, mane, and wings, though the last of that list appears to be bizarrely misshapen. Upon closer inspection, you can see that her feathery pegasi wings have become webbed like a bat’s. With the light, you can see her pupils are dark slits in her blazing amethyst irises.
As if to answer your unspoken questions, you see several ornate bottles on the bathroom floor, tipped over and empty. Though you can’t make out the labels, you’re fairly certain one starts with “An” and the other with “Bat”. This only further tempts your curiosity, however.
“Rainbow, what are you doing in here?!” you blurt out, blatantly ignoring any right to privacy the mare has. In your defense, you were worried, and undoubtedly the sight of the transformed pony has dulled your sense. Rainbow certainly isn’t as forgiving, though.
“What are YOU doing barging into an occupied bathroom?!” she barks accusingly, rising to her feet. You vaguely notice how odd it is to be eye-to-eye with a living being for once, but her choice of attire catches your attention as well. She’s next to naked, which generally is expected in Equestria.,but as a human-built being the immodesty is shocking. Her most private areas are protected only by a pair of panties and a bra, each one a deep purple striped with Halloween-themed colors. It wouldn’t be inaccurate to claim your first thought is how cute they looked on her.
“Are you staring at me or something, perv?!” she demands, stepping towards you. Her face is contorted into a snarl, fangs bared. Instinctively you back up, quickly bumping up against the wall behind you as she closes in.
“I just wanted to see if you were okay!” you explain, attempting to calm the furious multi-species filly. “I didn’t know what you were doing! And I still don’t!”
“I was getting my Nightmare Night costume ready, obviously!” she says, looking down at herself. “Thought it’d be fun to go as a half-human batpony to ‘celebrate’ your arrival.”
“Flattering,” you sigh, stepping aside and making your way towards the bed. You do your best to avert your eyes as quickly as you can, lest you invoke more of her wrath. Your cheeks are already burning red from embarrassment. With any hope, she’d forget all about it and be on her merry--
Pffffrrrrrpppt!
A brash noise grabs your attention once again, and your view snaps to Dash. She’s standing in front of the bathroom, her posture a lot softer than it previously was. Her own facial expression now indicates shame, wide eyes staring at you.
“Did you just rip?” You ask her, trying to be a little snide in response to her rudeness earlier. You don’t need an answer, of course. It was just you and her in the room, and there certainly wasn’t a broken trumpet around to be played to emulate such a noise. Rainbow Dash stands stiffly, clasping her thighs together. Judging from her facial expression, she’s now more embarrassed than angry.
“Nice one,” you tease, giving her a lighthearted smirk. Returning to your reclining position, you pick up a book and pseudo-ignore her standing in the corner of the room, balling her fists angrily.
The wind whipped past Daring Do, the northern cold biting into her flesh like a knife. No amount of wool and cloth could keep out the icy teeth of this unseen, howling menace that
With a resounding thump, the book falls to the floor as Rainbow Dash tackles you. Before you can even react, she has your wrists pinned down as she sits straddled above you.
“What the hell?!” you yelp, the violent jostling having taken you by surprise. Rainbow Dash looms over you, her mouth curled into a snarl that reveals her pointed fangs. The bat-pegasus is surprisingly strong, pinning you down with what appears to be relative ease despite your pushing. Her vicious glare peers down at you, bloody fuschia gemstones glinting through slitted eyelids. Though you’d never admit it, the situation would be… enjoyable if you weren’t in fear of your safety.
“You didn’t think I’d just let that go, did you?!” she angrily demands, her fingers closing tightly around your wrists. You can’t help but struggle against her, having no idea how her transformation has affected her mind. Vague scenes race through your mind: her fangs sinking like needles into your neck, you bleeding out on the bed in some foreign world, your life nothing but sustenance for her carnivorous appetite.
“I’m sorry, Rainbow Dash! I didn’t mean to, I promise!” you practically plead, giving up your dignity for a shot at mercy. Your heart is throbbing in your ribs, the thought of your demise at the hand of this half-monster sickening your stomach. To her, you imagine your heart is like a delicious wet sack of muscle, sending rich, sanguine juice through her prey’s body.
Reading the expression of fear on your face, Rainbow can’t contain herself for long and suddenly laughs. “You thought I was gonna kill you, didn’t you?” she asks between bouts of giggling. Now you’re the one embarrassed, cheeks burning.
“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, breaking eye contact with her. “Now get off of me. Please.” Though you’re mostly unafraid now, having an underwear-clad half-human mare on top of you is uncomfortable for reasons that don’t need to be said.
She pauses for a moment, though her grip never lessens on you. “Nah, I don’t think so.”
“What do you mean ‘nah’?” you ask, confused and worried. Silently you just wish she’d get off of you before she continues.
She opens her mouth to respond, very quickly being cut off by a low, wet gurgle in her stomach. Both of you refuse to move for a moment, waiting for another gastrointestinal wail through Rainbow’s abdomen. When none comes, you pipe up.
“Just get off and go do whatever you do on Nightmare Night, okay? I said I was sorry.”
Curling her lip into a distressed scowl, she begins loosening her grip on your wrists, but not enough to free you. “I would,” she says, sighing. “But those dumb potions, well…”
“Well what?”
“You know. They’re making me… fart. A lot.”
You can barely stifle your giggling. Your elaborate Nightmare Night costume is ruined by farting? You want to ask, but avoid out of fear of retaliation. However, your muffled amusement is enough to irritate the vampiric pegasus, unfortunately for you.
“You’re lucky I’m not gulping your blood like a mug of cider, and you’re laughing at me?!”
You cringe, feeling as though you’ve tipped over a pot of boiling water. “Dash--”
“No! You’re a rude little jerk!” she barks, her posture once again growing menacing as she pins you down. “I spend all this time making sure you don’t get lost or ‘contaminate’ anything like Twilight said and you think I’m a joke because I tore flank once! It’s the potions!”
With a grunt, you push with all your might against Rainbow Dash. Because of her position, grip, and obvious athleticism, she barely budges an inch.
“You know what? Since you seem to think it’s so funny, why don’t you get a front row view? Perv like you could use a little lesson,” she says, her face slowly lighting up with the idea.
Your fears are quickly confirmed when she begins to shift on top of you, repositioning herself. A part of you doesn’t believe it, as if it’s somehow too surreal to be a fart cushion despite the fact you’ve spent several days in an alternate universe. As soon as you see your opening, you push with all your force, trying to knock the fanged filly off balance. For a moment, you feel yourself overpowering her, giving you a faint sensation of hope. It doesn’t last long before she grinds her knee into your stomach, squeezing the wind out of you.
“Hey!” she barks, her voice cracking. “If you don’t quit squirming I’ll make it a lot worse!”
Obediently you lay still, your belly aching like a bruise from her weight rested on it. A mismatched assortment of emotions runs through your head as she readies herself. You’re afraid, dread sinks in your stomach like a cold lump of metal, yet there’s that pleasant fire of arousal that hasn’t quite manifested yet. You hate being treated like some playtoy, but by Rainbow Dash you’re almost accepting of it.
You’re quickly brought back to reality when Rainbow’s shapely rear sways in your face. Her two sky-blue cheeks are plump and round, her raised, flamboyant tail hanging over it teasingly. The panties hug her buttocks snugly, closely enough that you can still capture the delicate curvature of her behind and hips. She’s so close to you that you can see each individual strand of fabric making up her striped underwear. You can feel your cheeks grow hot, your consciousness wrapped up in your current vision strongly enough that you don’t hear Rainbow let out a boyish grunt.
BRRRMMMPT
The rumbling round of flatulence is loud enough that it practically tickles your eardrums, a long and bassy growl only mildly dampened by her panties. Rainbow immediately bursts into laughter while you grimace in disgust.
“Wow, that was a noisy one!” she remarks, her voice hinting the pride she has in her gas. “Those potions are doing the work of three bean burritos, believe me.”
Down beneath her, you’re finding her flatus less than humorous. You caught a whiff of her stench before you were able to hold your breath. For such an airy fart, the smell is unnaturally strong. a potpourri of bland yet malodorous fragrances hinted with the stink of digested vegetables. You start bringing your hands up to cup your palms over your nose and mouth, but the gaseous pegasus hastily pins your wrists down again.
“Oh no no no,” she coos, sounding as though she’s getting some sick pleasure out of making someone smell her brand. “What kind of a punishment would this be if you didn’t have to breathe it in? We haven’t even gotten to the bad ones yet!”
“Gross, you ass!” you call out angrily. “Get off!”
“Me? An ass? Well, from your view you’re not exactly wrong!”
She laughs at her own crude humor as you push at her thighs, unable to budge the flatulent athlete. In your struggles, your hand brushes over her stomach. To your dismay you find that her belly is taut with gas, and as if to confirm your fears her stomach growls again as her foul emissions snake through her innards.
“You’ve had your revenge, now get off!” you demand once again, desperate to at least get her looming, panties moons away from your face. Her multicolored tails cascades above your vision and spills out onto the pillow behind your head, still lifted in anticipation of more gas.
“Do you ever shut up?” she asks with a sigh, clearly annoyed that your frequent protests are ruining her fun. “‘Waaah, Rainbow Dash, get offff!’ Well maybe you shouldn’t open occupied bathrooms!”
You sit still for a moment, the stench still lingering in your nose as you try to contemplate how you could defuse this sadistic mare. Apologies weren’t cutting it, maybe you could bargain with--
Rainbow’s ass suddenly descends onto your face, crashing your train of thought. The toasty fabric of her soft, silky underwear coats your face like a veil as the batpony’s weight presses it into your skin.
Her cheeks feel just as they looked: plushy, round, and pliable, though her toned muscles rest relaxed underneath a layer of squishy pudge that conforms to your face. As her weight settles down on top of you, your nose sinks into her crack, the warmth between her semi-firm, voluminous cheeks pleasantly comfortable in any situation other than your current peril. The smell of her gas is locked in the threads of her panties. Judging by the surprising power behind the odor, you infer that she’s been tormenting the poor fabric with her wind for a while before you found her.
You bark out another refusal, but your voice comes out as little more than a muffled grunt, dampened by Rainbow’s weight. In the pitch black eclipse underneath her moons, you crane your neck around, searching for some escape. Dash flexes her cheeks in response, reminding you that you’re locked in place at her mercy.
“That’s much better! Not a peep from you now,” she says, pleased with her work. You feel panic and helplessness set in, and though you can breathe with relative ease through her undergarment it feels like you’re trapped in a dark, cushioned, and claustrophobic prison. You’re not entirely hopeless yet, though. Tales float around of Rainbow Dash being a classic prankster, so there’s a fair chance that she’s just playing around… you hope.
You hear her groan again and before you have time to brace yourself, Rainbow’s perky buttocks bursts with a bassy buzz of flatulence that trembles against your face. With nowhere else to go, the fart hits you full force. Every aspect of it is disgustingly real and detailed. You feel her wobbly flesh vibrate against your nose as she squeezes this long, noisy blast out, warm winds seeping through her panties and billowing down your face. You clench your jaw shut and squeeze your eyelids closed, blocking out all you can except for the rattling of her ass gas against your face.
“Oh Celestia that felt nice,” Rainbow says after the fart has tapered to a squeak and hisses into silence. “Sucks that most ponies don’t really find farting acceptable, it sure feels nice to cut the cheese when you need to!”
In your warm prison, you regret not taking in a bigger breath beforehand. Your lungs are already pained for air, and there’s no way you can open your mouth enough to breathe comfortably down here. You clutch Dash’s muscular thighs, trying to get your mind off of your primal need to inhale.
“Awww, what’s the matter, perv?” Rainbow Dash asks, having taken notice of the peculiar lack of airflow from you. “Don’t want to inhale that?” She takes an audible whiff of the air, and a moment later you feel her weight shift above you as she recoils. “Pee-yew, I don’t blame you! Smells like that Taco Belle finally went through my stomach!”
It’s not long before you can’t hold your breath anymore, so you draw a heavy breath in through your nose. The very first thing you notice is the increased heat and humidity of the limited air, but the stench strikes you infinitely harder. Within a second, a powerful miasma of fetid gas bleeds into your sense of smell like a rank, sulfuric perfume. It’s thick with soured vegetable matter and ripe with caustic spices; if you were more focused at the time, you could pick out the aromas of digested mushrooms, cabbage, and cheese made only more foul by Rainbow’s natural colon stench. The stench has a dank undertone of rich protein shake, only making the whole concoction of fragrances even more stomach turning.
Your retching is practically involuntary. This is undeniably one of those farts that would clear a room or warrant cracking a window for some fresh oxygen, and you’re inhaling its undiluted, purest fumes. Hearing your disgust, Rainbow Dash pushes her supple cheeks down harder against your face to ensure you won’t be receiving any mercifully untainted breath.
“Sheesh, you’re acting like I just made you sniff a dead rabbit or something,” your tormentor says, a little surprised by the potency of her gas as well. “I’d start getting used to it, because there’s plenty more to rip!”
This can’t be actually happening, you think to yourself, exhaling as powerfully as you can in a desperate attempt to clear your lungs. The fact that you’re so helplessly weak against this sadistic, anthro batpony discourages you almost as much as the strength-sapping stink does. Any sensible individual would’ve gotten off of you by now, but Dash couldn’t be more comfortable. With your remaining strength, you arch your back against the bed and grabs Rainbow’s midriff, trying to hurl the both of you to the side. You knew it would piss her off, but you need to breathe in something other than her rancid flatus.
For a moment, your plan seems to work; Rainbow Dash lurches to the side, and a faint sliver of light from the edge of her cheek illuminates your world once again. You open your eyes, staring at her festive, tight fitting panties once more. Like a miner finally seeing light after days in a mine, the relief you feel is immense. You suck in a long breath, the air still smelling of the pegasus’ fetid expulsions but now mixed with the cleaner aura of the room. Your body goes limp and your breathing slows peacefully, and for what moment you have before your tormenter balances herself, you rest.
“HEY!” she screeches, her voice as sharp as a knife in the otherwise quiet room. You can’t rise quick enough to fend her off. In a flash, she’s on top of you once again in that same humiliating position. You don’t bother struggling against her this time, although you’re far from accepting your fate.
“Ugh, I was so close to getting up and letting you go, you know!” Rainbow Dash hisses, peering at you over her shoulder and extended batwing. “But no! You’re just too thick to stop fighting!” Her tone of voice gives off the vibe that she’s genuinely angry with you now, as if all the previous gassing was more play than punishment.
“Just stop it already, please Rainbow!” you beg, any semblance of pride inside of you smashed. You’d beg, whimper, kiss her feet, anything to just get a few minutes of rest. Since you discovered her in that bathroom you feel like your heart’s been working overtime, and you’re definitely not going to be able to eat anything tonight.
“Maybe I would’ve been a bit more sympathetic if you didn’t shove me!” she retorts, fangs glinting in the lamplight of the room. “Now you’re going to pay for it, bigtime.”
Once again, her plump tush rests on your face as though you were little more than a seat. Rainbow is much rougher this time, and instead of gently lowering her body weight onto you, she grinds your face deep into her crack until your nose pushes against her gaseous tailhole. You’re so close now that you can feel the gentle wrinkles of her firm pucker through the panties, and the stench and the heat remind you of a locker room. Apparently, all the built-up heat has made Dash sweat a bit, so now her furry crack is glazed with musky, ass-scented perspiration.
The mare’s tailhole erupts nearly silently, the noise comparable to air hissing out of a balloon knot. Her anus flexes against your nostrils as the stream of gas is released, as hot and damp as the air in a steaming bog. You don’t even have to inhale to experience the hellish stink of her ass. It’s as though her insides are some putrid underworld sewer, and you’ve just been graced with the foulest stench her belly can conjure up. It is overpoweringly eggy, as if the entire week’s produce of a chicken farm were left in a spoiled dumpster during a sweltering summer. Any distinct aromas of her prior meals have melted into an indiscernible miasma of overpowering meaty tones, pungent flora gases, and spoiled dairy. Somehow, it stinks of burning rubber and gasoline at the same time, giving it an undertone similar to fresh skunk oil.
Before her tight hole can even close, Rainbow unleashes another gush of moist ponygas, her anus squeaking like a wet rubber valve. It seems almost impossible for something to smell this bad. Perhaps there’s something in pony physiology that enables them to produce these rotten perfumes, maybe those potions were demonic in origin, possibly she slipped something into your drink making your senses overly perceptive… whatever the case may be, you’re too dazed to even consider it. The majority of the air in your lungs is fresh from Dash’s stinking bowels. Your face feels slick with sweat; no surprise, seeing as the temperature has spiked between her thick buttcheeks. If Rainbow is saying anything, you’re not paying attention anymore. The only sound noticeable to you now is her shrill laughter at your own suffering and her farting, as well as the buzzes and hisses of her smelly emissions.
At some point in time - maybe minutes, maybe hours-- the weight is lifted from your face. The breeze tickles your cheeks, numb from the constant pressure. You instinctively breathe in, yet it's apparent that there isn’t a single molecule untouched by Rainbow’s farting. Either that, or the smell has been burned into your nostrils for weeks to come. Perhaps both.
“Tank’s outta gas,” Dash exclaims nonchalantly as if she didn’t just deflate her entire gastrointestinal system onto your face a moment ago. “Huh, and it’s not that late after all…”
You emit a dull whimper to acknowledge her, too exhausted to deliver a proper response. The speedster laughs, standing over your sprawled out form.
“Geez, you reek! Take a shower before anypony gets here. If that’ll even wash it off,” she barely manages to say before she bursts into laughter at your pathetic condition.
A minute or so later her form steps back into your vision, now fully dressed in her costume. You don’t bother to make out all the different components of her costume. You’ve seen more than enough of this disgusting mare for your life.
“Hey, Stinky,” she says as she pokes your stomach. “I’m going out and trick or treating. Don’t tell anyone I’m leaving you alone… or else.”
You weakly nod your head, not daring to give any risky vocal response. A bit disappointed in your lack of feistiness, Rainbow Dash gathers her final belongings and exits the room, the door lock clicking gently as she steps out.
Somehow, in that rancid, stuffy gas chamber of a hotel room, you manage to blissfully drift away into the sweet (and thankfully scentless) embrace of slumber.
