Foreword
There was indeed much exaltation to be had when we were informed that we would be afforded the honor of writing the foreword meant to accompany the second printing of what is sure to become a timeless classic. Truly, it came as a complete surprise to us, as we, along with many others in our fine community believed that much-beloved professional writer and critic of Human-Pony Romance, Whetted Quill would surely be chosen. Some have even had the audacity to claim that perhaps she was originally to write this foreword, and that her sudden affliction with indescribable night terrors near the submittal deadline of this draft may have been the result of some sort of deliberate action on our part. We would like to state clearly that this is not the case, and anypony claiming otherwise should mayhap re-evaluate their stance on the matter, lest they arbitrarily come to suffer the same fate.
Ah, but we digress. What is there that remains to be said about this work, this paragon of our fledgling yet vibrant genre of fiction? What could we say that the glowing reviews, immense sales, and imminent ‘moving picture’ adaptation could not?
We feel that instead of discussing the work itself, we would like to use the space we were allotted on these pages to discuss its humble author. The true identity of Mistress Notfluutershai is known to only a select few; a few amongst whom we are happy to count ourselves. The conversations we have shared together with her have revealed much insight into her creative process, which will certainly do much to assist our own writing endeavors. [ Please look forward to the release of our latest fan-fiction volume, ‘The Butler’s Travels in Canterlot’, in bookstores soon! ] She is indeed a master of her craft, and she carries herself as such at all times, yet she is also demure and eminently respectful; a pony that we are very honored to call friend and associate.
Yes, it is through this personal, unique insight, that we feel we are in a position to address the only considerable criticism this fine work has received, namely that the protagonist is a ‘self-insert’. We can confirm, with absolute certainty, that this is not the case. The character of Butterbella shares few if any characteristics with the author herself, so there is no need to continue with these incorrect assertions. On a related note, we would also like to state that the character of Princess Nooma as she appears in the wildly successful fan-fiction spinoff, ‘The Butler’s Travels in Canterlot’, is not a self-insert either, so stop saying such things. Not only are they hurtful, they also have the strong possibility of resulting in night terrors visiting those whose conscience is heavy with the weight of the unfair lies they have been spouting amidst our tight-knit and intimate literary community.
We have little doubt that this second printing of ‘The Lusty Human Butler’ will be no less wildly successful than the first. We hope that it will not only allow new readers to set hoof into this enthralling fantasy of a forbidden lust which must never be spoken, but also allow prior readers to replace old copies that may have become soiled due to various circumstances.
Happy Reading and Pleasant Dreams,
Princess Luna
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Chapter 34 - A Desire of Study, A Study of Desire
“Ah, Mistress, I did not expect you to be here at this late hour.”
Yes, there was genuine surprise in his tone, and yes, there was truth in his words. Butterbella, despite her top class education among the Canterlot elite, did not often count spending late nights reading in the candlelit study of her opulent mansion among her usual diversions. Yet, here she was, sitting quietly at her reading table, an impressive tome open before her and her reading glasses glimmering in the candlelight.
“Do not mind me, butler,” she said softly to him, never taking her eyes off the book she randomly selected mere moments before he entered the room. “It is important to be thorough in your duties, and the shelves here so desperately need dusting. Please, continue as if I am not even here.”
“Yes, Mistress, as you wish.”
Turning away from her, he retrieved the small stepladder he left by the door, placed it beside the bookshelf nearest to her desk and climbed up several steps so he could reach the very top with his feather duster.
Yes… just like that.
Just.
Like.
That.
She had to consciously turn her head away, lest some drool accidentally find its way to the open page of her book, because the view… the view was exquisite. This was the fruition of the day’s scheming, and oh, what a bounty it had wrought! As the human worked diligently upon the ladder, Butterbella’s eyes were treated to an unobstructed view of the orbs she desired so much, the outline of which was cradled and accentuated by the specially selected material of the outfit he was required to wear to perform his duties.
What did her unicorn friend Scarcity call it again? Span-dex? Whatever it was, it truly left nothing to the imagination. There they were, those incredible things of beauty, holding within them the blasphemous seed capable of sowing all manner of abominations within her neglected womb. If she wanted, she could flap her wings right now, be over there in an instant, and cradle them… feel their weight in the frogs of her hooves…
If she wanted—
No. No, that wouldn’t be possible now. Her wings, their chartreuse feathers spread obscenely for all the world to see, were stiff as boards already. There was no way she could fly in this state, even if she could muster the will for it somewhere amidst the swirl of forbidden thoughts now clouding her mind; thoughts which prompted one of her forehooves to slink its way back to address her quickly building need.
She kept one hoof safely atop her book, making sure to turn the pages every so often to keep up the illusion that she was reading, while the other started its familiar task. Her pale cyan eyes drank in every aspect of his form while he worked, oblivious to her hunger… her debauchery. She snorted once, almost a little too loudly, as the crescendo began, and then…
And then… he reached for something, standing on his tiptoes, and they shifted oh-so-slightly.
The first maregasm brought with it a telltale whimper that nearly escaped her lips, and already the seat of her chair had suffered irreparable harm. But that was fine; it was all within her careful calculations. By the end of this night, this chair would be ruined and would certainly need to be burned, so a replacement had already been prepared, and by morning’s light nopony would be the wiser.
For a moment, she nearly relaxed in the feeling of comfort brought by her judicious foresight. As long as she could keep her vocalizations under control, she could play this game as long as she liked. Yes, she could enjoy this tempting show without the fear of discovery clouding her—
The sudden, unexpected scent of her own arousal nearly sent her into a state of shock.
How… how could she have been so foolish?! How could she have missed such a simple detail?! Even if she was able to keep her moaning under control, there’s no creature in the world that would be able to ignore the building presence of her feminine musk! Wow… she… she really let that chair have it, didn’t she?
The pegasus’ cheeks flushed crimson and she began to tremble as the shame and horror of her inevitable discovery washed over her. There was no doubt that if the Nobility caught word of the carnal intentions she had toward this… human… in her employ, she would be ruined in the best case. Her marriage would end, she’d be cast out into the street, but at least she’d be able to recover some sort of normalcy if it was only limited to that. But in the worst case, she could suffer divine judgment from one of the Princesses for breaking the Ancient Taboo!
Yes, it was over. She’d finally done it… finally gone too far this time. Much like the famous story of the pegasus who flew too close to the sun, her tragic fate was already sealed, and there was no turning back.
Yet, strangely, despite those morbid thoughts, her hoof continued its work on her nethers unabated, as if her looming utter demise were but a fleeting concern. At first, she didn’t understand why, but then, through the aching need she realized…
If she truly were fated to burn here, to burn away and become nothing… then why not fly as high as she could before the end?
Yes! Fly, Butterbella! Perhaps in these scant few moments before he was certain to confront her, she could achieve new heights; she could reach a new plateau of pleasure the jealous and cold mares of the Nobility could never hope to reach!
And thus, she continued on, resolute in the fact that the next moment would herald the end.
And then the next moment arrived and went, along with the one after, and… and he wasn’t noticing.
He wasn’t noticing! He kept working as if nothing was wrong, even while the scent of her effervescent shame burned strongly within her own nostrils as it wafted about the room. But… how could it…?
Of course! Humans… for some reason, their sense of smell was unusually weak compared to all the world’s known creatures. Maybe… maybe he truly couldn’t smell it?
She bit her lip again as another maregasm, brought on partly by an overwhelming sense of relief, partly by the definition of his biceps as he lifted a vase to dust underneath it, suddenly washed over her. She was safe! She was safe, and she could keep playing the game… yes… keep playing this naughty, naughty game, meant all for her…
A pattering… the sound of droplets of liquid falling to the floor, as the bubbling concoction of mareish fluid her body had been constantly producing began to overflow from the edge of her poor, desecrated chair…
The butler turned his head to the ceiling, tapping his chin in thought. “Another leak? Perhaps I should spend some time checking the roof for damage tomorrow. The summer storms have been quite fierce lately, after all.”
“Y-Yes,” came Butterbella’s weak, nearly breathless agreement. “I feel that would be for the best.”
The human smiled. “If that is what my Mistress desires. I believe I am done here, so I shall move on to the rest of the mansion. If you’ll excuse me.” He politely bowed to her, then moved to leave, feather duster in hand.
“W-Wait!” came her cry, far more desperate than she intended. “Th-there is something else in this room that yet requires your attention.”
He turned back to her, a questioning look on his face.
“Oh? But whatever could it be? I have dusted all the shelves, and not a single volume in the study is out of place.”
At once, her eyes darted to and fro, looking everywhere, searching for any excuse she could come up with to keep him there for just a little longer… to prolong the game…
“Unless, you mean…”
He paused then, eyes settling on her own and causing her heart to cease beating. Again, she trembled in her chair as the arousal wracked her body… those eyes, those predator’s eyes that she could never resist…
“N-Neigh~!”
It was not a word that fell from her lips in that moment. It was a bestial grunt; a primal cry begging him to take her, right now, to just—!
“Ah, I’m relieved,” he said, his eyes traveling to the vase nearby, and the wilting flowers within. “For as Mistress has surely remembered, the florist will be by in the morning with the week’s delivery, and I don’t believe they are still open at this late hour.” He smiled at her once again. “I shall be sure to replace them immediately when they arrive tomorrow, my Mistress. Good night.”
And with that, he left the study, closing the door quietly behind him, which muffled Butterbella’s frustrated whimpering that followed not a moment later.
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Acknowledgements
This story would not have been possible without the aid of the Canterlot University Primatology Department, and the work of Twilight Sparkle in the study of human anatomy in particular. Every effort was made to keep the physical portrayal of the human as close as possible to reality based on the current information available to the public. In addition, her research paper, ‘Why Young, Educated Unicorn Mares Make Ideal Marriage Partners for Humans, Summarized in 49 Key Points’ was used as an extensive reference in the production of this story in order to best represent the known human behaviors, courting and mating rituals.
I would also like to thank my dear friends for their support. Even if they may not realize it, I couldn’t have done this without their help.
And thank you as well, kind reader. I hope you’ll look forward to my next novel.
