You knock on Twilight's door, thick pink frosting dripping off of your knuckle. You take a deep breath before blowing upwards, trying to keep your batter-soaked hair from rubbing up against your eyes. You hear a bunch of rustles from deep inside.
You sigh, and you slant your body over to the side. You can't see a thing through the newly installed window. You reach out and knock again even harder. You stop to notice the pink marks that you've made in the wood for a second, looking like paw-prints almost, but you just go 'meh'. She can clean that later.
"Oh, for Pete's sake, I'm coming already!" Twilight calls out. You hear her hooves scattering across the floor over to the door. It lights up with her familiar purple aura as you step backwards.
"Hey, Twi," you mutter.
"Don't you 'Twi' me," she says as she sizes you up. You can see her body covered with some kind of shiny, reflective white chemical suit, probably doing more of those mad-scientist style experiences in her basement lab. She takes off a pair of goggles, those beady black things always remind you of John Lennon eyglasses, and she snorts. "And what is it now?
"Well..." You point a frosting soaked arm over at your batter soaked arm. You slide your sprinkle-coated legs apart as you slid your head to the side. A big blob of chocolate pudding slides down from atop your ear along your right cheek. "It's kind of... this."
"Oh, I thought that you were just dressing like a living carnival treat for fun. As Rarity would say, 'eccentricity is so couture right now'," Twilight retorts. She trots to a table besides the door and magically takes off her huge chemical suit, throwing it atop stacks of papers and binders. She looks away from you as she stops, and she slams her head against the table with a soft 'thud'.
"Uh, Twi," you say, leaning your head into the library.
"Stop. Calling. Me. Twi," she moans, face buried in the table.
"Sorry." You feel that familiar dark cloud going up your stomach, something that has happened pretty much every time you've spoken with Twilight since you showed up the day before yesterday. Ugh, I'm so stupid. I can't just talk to her like we're friends. We have to actually be friends. Stupid, frigid, arrogant, closed-minded little pony! Why can't we just be nice to each other?
"It was Pinkie, wasn't it?" Twilight asked, face still buried.
"Eeeeeeeyup," you reply. You chuckle a little, knowing that your Big Mac impression has improved a lot over the past twenty-four hours. "The two of us were just working on those 'automatically self-baking treats' that's all the rage in Canterlot. You know, you just place them on the counter and they cook themselves. I guess we used too much ground Clover of Strontitus to amp up the process for several pony-sized cakes rather than mere cupcakes, and... well..." You'd laugh, but you can't stand the feeling of cake batter everywhere from inside your ears to inside your boxer shorts for much longer.
Twilight hops over right in front of you, holding up a hoof onto your face. "I don't want to hear it. You understand me? I. Do. Not. Want. To. Hear. It." She takes a little breath, and she lights up her horn.
"Yes, thank you," you comment. That's all I wanted, seriously. That's the only reason why I walked all the way here from Sugarcube Corner.
Twilight murmurs a quick spell. You close your eyes, and you feel this weird wave of minty-freshness coursing through your system. You wiggle, trying to keep it from tickling too much. You take deep breaths, and you open your eyes once again.
"Better?" She runs a hoof through her very jagged and coarse mane.
"Thanks!" Your face, hair, ears, hands, and everything in between seem perfectly clean, thanks to Twilight. You look at her for a moment, wondering. You've been so... so stressed with all of these humans showing up. Not just over the past while, but even so many in the last several days. Your eyes move along her crazy mane, seeing lines that have formed on her face. I know that you had to be so happy and cheerful before all that.
"Look, Scamper--"
"No. Just no," you reply. You love Pinkie to death, but it cuts like a knife going right across your wrists how that fluffy pink mare just has to popularize some obnoxious, yet funny-to-her nickname for every single human that she meets. You take a gulp. At least you didn't get stuck with something like 'Peaches'.
"Fine, mister man," Twilight says, magically lifting the chemical suit back on. "You know, I'm surprised that you've lasted this long without having to get 'fixed'. A male human in that age group-- that bracket where you swear, drink, sweat, fart, burp, and everything else like there's no tomorrow-- always makes trouble when he shows up here. You're lucky that I haven't sicced Zecora on you. Let her get you 'fixed', all while--" She doesn't finish the sentence; she just closes the door. You hear her grumbling quietly.
You cringe at that word. Fixed. Ugh... why does she have to keep threaten to have me "fixed"! I've tried so hard to fit in! Equestrian regulations keep humans nicely separate even though hundreds of them walk across Equestria-- something about their "molecular structure" posing "reactive risks when applied against each other in magically charged specific environments", whatever that means.
You don't know if it's too much caution based on mere speculation or a sinister plot to keep humans in the dark about how ponies treat them. At any rate, you've never had the opportunity to talk to some guy that has gotten '"fixed". You know that you'll never let it happen to you.
You almost walk into a set of bushes outside of Colgate's Dentistry, and you jolt yourself back to reality. No reason to worry about all this. Now, let's see exactly what the hell Pinkie expects to do given that her cakes work better as bombs than treats. You walk across the main street, seeing ponies cavorting about like usual. It still feels so unreal-- you've had less than a week to get comfortable with being in a cartoon-like world with cartoon-like talking horses-- and you still marvel at the well-dressed mares that come out of Rarity's botique.
They freeze as they take one look at you. You hold up a hand and wave it in the air, putting on a goofy, friendly expression. What else can I do? The tallest mare, a golden-maned pegasus with tiny wings and something like white stripes going across her back, curls backward. She frowns as her eyes narrow, and her compatriots do the same.
Oh, well... okay then. The mares dart away from you, heading down into a side alleyway. It doesn't matter how many humans you horses see, does it? Every single time, you'll just never see them as anything other than a curiosity-- some kind of savage beast that's kept on an omnipresent leash. It rubs you pretty sore. You can't help it. You know that a large minority of ponies act like they half expect you to poop right on the side of the street while scratching your ear with your foot.
You hover a moment in front of Sugarcube Corner as Roseluck pops up acros the other side of the building. You smile and wave. She smiles and waves back, flashing that adorable smile of hers. You feel your heart warming up instantly. Of course, another large minority couldn't have more open arms ready. If only Roseluck wasn't happy with that marefriend of hers...
You have to admit it. You're a man, and you have hormones. Whatever slammed you into Twilight's attic the day after yesterday, scaring the living daylights out of the mare as she braved up the stairs, also turned you into something at least half-cartoon like yourself. You knew that ever since Spike accidentally knocked two full sets of bookshelves upon both and Twilight... but you both only had scratches and the occasional ache afterward, Tom and Jerry would be proud. Although, your "scampering" across the attic's floor-- in Spike's words-- had lead to that blasted nickname.
Your skin and features seem to have the same pastel warmth of everything else in Ponyville as well. Thus, there's no reason for you not to find several of these mares completely irresistible. At least, that's the line that you've kept on telling yourself, to keep from feeling like a horny zoophillac freak. For crying out loud, they're adult girls-- walking around totally naked! Adult non-human girls, but still... yeah... You've heard about Braeburn, Nurse Redheart, and a couple other ponies doing kinky things with human guys when other ponies weren't in the room. In polite society, naturally, nopony is supposed to talk about that sort of thing.
You sigh wistfully, and you open the door to Sugarcube Corner. You can't imagine seeing Pinkie beautiful Pie in that way, at least, given that the bouncy, hyperactive mare rips through male companions like a hot knife through butter. You glance around the main store floor for a moment, scratching your head. Something's wrong.
How the hell did it all get clean?
You speed around from corner to corner, seeing spotless counter-tops and sparkling white dishes. You can't make out Pinkie anywhere. Your heart begins to race, wondering if something weird has happened.
*Wham!*
A group of horses throw you down onto a pile of bags of sugar. You let out a honking sound, arms waving on your back. You hear a torrent of giggles. Hooves reach down around your arms and curl you to the side, and you blink.
"Oh, it's Scamper!" Applebloom calls out, sitting down atop your right foot.
"Stop calling me that," you groan. You rub your back for a second as you look over at Sweetie Belle, sitting down atop your left foot, and Scootaloo, brushing up against your left side.
They both have smiles going from cheek to cheek. That makes you form a horrible, caustic lump in the middle of your stomach. Smiles mean trouble. Smiles mean that they'll start begging for something very, very inappropriate, given that they know a human adult will always be an easier mark than a pony adult.
"Oh, sorry about that," Sweetie says. You watch as she shifts her mane around. "My fellow Crusaders and I just need to ask you a favor. A kind of a special favor." She flushes her cheeks and puts on a puppy-dog smile, her ears curling around her head.
Dammit! Why do foals have to be so awesomely cute and charming! You stand up, and the Crusaders plop themselves onto the floor right in front of you. You let out a little moan as all three of them put on the same adorable expression, their hooves out in supplication.
"What is it?" you ask. You immediately mentally kick yourself. You said that in your 'big brother' tone of voice, that inflection that made it clear that you'd do whatever they'd ask.
"Well, as you can see," Sweetie says, pointing behind her at the clean store room, "the 'Spellcaster Enchantment Booster P-90X' was a complete success."
"P-90X..." you repeat, face looking totally blank.
"Yeah, yeah," Scootaloo says, "you should have been here! Sweetie just put that doo-hickey-a-thing-a-ma-bob on her head, and ker-pow!" Scootaloo punches you in the leg. "Cleaning spell and everything else! She's almost as magically able as Twilight!"
"Well, not that powerful," Sweetie chimes in, rubbing her face against her body in embarassment.
"That's nice..." You don't like where this is leading.
"And, now that the kitchen and other rooms succeeded," Applebloom says, "us Crusaders just want to know if we can test the rest of the spells on you."
"Please!" Sweetie calls out.
"Pretty please!" Scootaloo calls out.
Applebloom just takes the bow out of her mane and holds it in her mouth. You want to cry. The bow move! I can't say 'no' to the bow move! Curse you adorable, charming foals!
"What kind of spell?" you ask, trying to dodge things. "And how does this P-90X even work?"
"Oh, just a moment!"
*Yoink!*
You find yourself led back outside by the three foals, a lot stronger than their age and size would suggest. They push you over besides Roseluck's big pushcart, crammed with flashy tulips, pretty dandelions, and other treats for ponies to munch on. You take a deep breath as Scootaloo pulls out what looks like a World War I helmet that the Germans wore. Instead of a single spike on the top, you spot two spikes. One, stretching around two feet long, points right at you as Scootaloo adjusts the weird looking black knobs on the side of the helmet.
"Girls, I'm not sure if this will really do what you want it to do."
Scootaloo makes a happy squeal, and she places the helmet on Sweetie's head. Sweetie lights up her horn, and it sticks out of a little whole that makes it rub up against the helmet's twin spikes. A flurry of sparks erupt across Sweetie's head, and the filly giggles, apparently feeling like the sparks tickle her.
"Relax, this won't hurt a bit. And we know that it'll do just what we want it to for sure," Applebloom says, helping Scootaloo manipulate the P-90X.
"What do you want it to do?"
"Oh," Applebloom says, running a hoof through her mane, "we're just rehearsing spell number nineteen. You know, the one that makes the receiver about two hundred times his or her size upon contact. Or so that book that we swiped from Twilight says." She pulls up a thick volume from behind her.
"Two hundred times his or her siz--
*Zap!*
You feel a surgling blue light. Then, you feel a surgling white light. You wiggle from side to side, taking in a deep breath. You feel yourself resting against something wet. You feel your hands against your sides. Grass? This is grass?
"Wake up, Scamper," Twilight says from somewhere above you.
"I told you, don't call me--" You stop mid-sentence. Oh, God, what happened? You can't remember a thing after getting zapped. You open your eyes and stand up.
Twilight looks pissed. Her ears stick out with her mane fluttered all across her head, strands pointing every which way. Her eyes look red. You also seem to be smack in the middle of Everfree Forest, an area that you used to avoid like the plague on the recommendation of every single pony that you have met. Your eyes dart around the massive, overhanging foliage-- strange noises and rustling going off in the distance-- and you shiver.
"So... I hope you enjoy being 'fixed'," Twilight says.
You flip around, glaring at the unicorn as she turns around and starts down a mossy path. You go after her. She throws leaves and grass along through the air with her magic over at you, slowing you down just like walking through a river. You grimace.
"What the hell did I do to deserve this?"
"Well," Twilight says, locking eyes with you and stroking her chin with a hoof. "Maybe it's your lack of personality. Maybe it's your overall obnoxiousness. Maybe you have an overdue library book. Or, maybe... I don't know..." She bucks up on her hind legs. "Maybe you shouldn't have tried to smash the town into a million pieces, mister magical giant monster!"
"I didn't... mean it!" you scream.
"Like I care," Twilight retorts, still going back the patch that she had apparently came in on. You take a step, and you see her horn lighting up brightly. "Stop. Turn around. Go to the end of this new path to Zecora's hut. To the side is her new guest hut. She'll get you 'fixed'. And don't come back until she's good and through with you."
Magic doesn't work on humans. They also have a relatively high tolerance for punishment or so you've learned the hard way over the past few days. Still, Twilight's crazy look in her eye means that you don't feel inclined to fight with her any more. You simply nod.
You turn around and walk over in the opposite direction. Zecora. Aside from some comments about an evil enchantress that does evil dances and puts unwary travelers in trances, you've never heard much about that pony. It stands to reason that she's some kind of social outcast or else she'd live right alongside you and Pinkie Pie in Ponyville.
'Fixed'.
You try and force that horrible word out of your mind as you come up to the top of the hill. You gaze down at what apparently seems like the 'guest hut' Twilight had mentioned. It looks like a Miami beach shack rather than the sort of spooky, Texas Chainsaw Massacre / Wrong Turn / Deliverance / etc. forest place that you had expected. You see white wooden sides and wide stretching, albeit totally blocked off with shut blinds, windows. You step over to the door, knowing that you should probably head inside before the Everfree creepy-crawlies get a hold of you.
You knock softly. You glance over to your far right, and you see another hut. That one looks like something out of a National Geographic documentary, with all kinds of various masks and sticks and other tribal-like items propped up around. Guess that's Zecora's own hut.
The door begins to swing open right in front of you. You lean backwards, feeling your stomach tied up in knots. You close you eyes, and you let out a breath.
Fixed.
To Be Continued...
“A-ha!” says a feminine voice from inside the hut. You blink, experiencing a sudden flash. She’s apparently got something going on in there, something that looks like making a miniature sun, and you care barely see.
You step forwards, not knowing what on earth to expect. You abruptly feel a strong, muscular hoof curling around your back. Before you can even think, you find yourself swung through the air and tossed onto a long, comfortable bamboo chair.
“I see that you need time yet to magically recover. As a rampaging monster, you threw those ponies under cover.”
“Sure,” you mutter. “Zecora, that’s you, right?”
“Here I am. Your special pony madam,” she replies. You take in her amazing accent, a bouncy rhyme going through all of her words. Just hearing her makes you want to smile, somehow. “I hope that you enjoy your stay. Please, lean back and relax without delay.”
You blink, rubbing your eyes with your hands. You flop over along the bamboo chair as you gaze out, and you spy one of the most unique creatures that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes go up from Zecora’s taught, strong hooves across her dark and light grey striped back up to her neck. She has such an odd gold piece on, looking as if these rings had stretched her neck out even though you know it has to be for decoration. You gaze upon the pony’s wonderful face.
She has an exotic looking Mohawk mane, hair alternating between bright white and light grey. Gigantic golden earrings hang from her ears, perking up as she sees you staring. You blush. What on earth is she going on about? Is she going to tie me down to ‘fix’ me, or what?
“Yes, that was a weird spell. I guess I rampaged through the city like Spike did.” You feel sheepish about the whole thing. Still, you keep getting distracted. Zecora’s big tail, striped just like the rest of her, wiggles about as she walks closer.
“You did not hurt a thing with intention. All that was needed was our friend’s intervention. After your accidental mishap, you crumped onto Twilight. She carried you here, holding you close, without a fight.”
Magic doesn’t work on humans. Thus, the pony had to have carried you on her back, just like a work-horse back on Earth. I guess Twilight does like me after all. She just feels so stressed that she can’t show it. Zecora steps over besides a long, dark brown table besides you. You can’t help but gaze right at her pretty face, especially her beautiful snout and big, caring teal-colored eyes. Everything about her seems so wonderfully exotic.
“So, this place is… where…” You don’t want to say ‘where I’ll get fixed’. You don’t want to think about anything but having a nice glass of tea with Zecora and maybe chatting her up. Who knows? I might even have a chance with her.
You both have so much in common. Isolated. Kept away from your own kind. Liked by so many ponies but also distrusted by so many others. You make a small, wistful sigh. Your ways and habits are totally misunderstood, given the different cultures.
“My friends and I built this place for a cared, welcome guest. Now that you’re here in comfort, you must say ‘yes’.”
“I was told I didn’t have a choice coming here,” you reply, a cold chill going over your face.
Zecora puts on a very coy expression, and she turns around. You glace back around behind you. The inside of the guest house seems more or less like what you’d see in a Best Western or Doubletree, despite the odd location. You see rustic-looking tables around tall dresses and ornate lamps. The occasional bamboo chair or bamboo strut in the wall stand out a little. In all, you feel so safe, secure, and comfortable.
That’s exactly what they do to dogs, hamsters, and the rest, right? They get all buttered up and treated nice just before they get ‘fixed’. Then, along comes the nurse with the steel clippers. You shudder, feeling your mouth going dry.
“I know that something is the matter, causing you such worry my dear. And I’ll be helping to treat it, just like you guessed, so don’t fear.”
I didn’t ‘guess’. I was forced to come here. You glance around at the blinds, all shut tight so that nopony could see inside.
You gulp.
“Please, my guest, look at me. Take you worries and cares, and then set them free.”
You see Zecora holding up a cup filled with a strawberry smelling reddish-brown liquid, swirling around with sparks rippling across the top. You take a deep breath. I can’t. I can’t go down without a fight, can I? You reach out and grip the cup. Your fingers nudge up along Zecora’s hoof, and the sensation of your skin on her fur feels fantastic, sending little wisps of pleasure though you.
Well, if she wanted to drug me and do weird stuff to me as I sleep, then she already would have had Twilight do it. I was unconscious already, and Twilight woke me back up. You pick up the cup and run it along your nose. You take in a sudden, oddly smooth sort of feeling. You steel yourself, and you sip it all down. It tastes like some combination of a strawberry wine cooler and tomato soup.
“That is simply your remedy’s first part,” Zecora says, smiling as she runs her hoof over along your arm and up to your shoulder. You try not to gasp at how great it feels. “It’s meant to mend your troubled heart.”
Remedy? So this is how I’m getting ‘fixed’? You can’t even begin to think of a response. You simply shrug.
“Let me get to the most important thing,” Zecora says, spinning around and opening up a massive closet besides you. You look up and marvel at the amazing array of vials, jots, pots, pans, jars, and everything else— containing a wide variety of ingredients with all kinds of odd labels. “That most rare and valuable wrapping covered in string.”
You can hardly even breathe as your eyes come upon Zecora’s plot for the first time. Everything— her stripes, her mane, her tail, her swaying way of walking, her bouncy voice, and more— about her has made you feel so happy, but you get mesmerized as you watch her big, thick flanks move. You drink in every single curve.
Zecora turns around, holding up a small bright red bag wrapped in a long golden string. You nod your head. She slants a little to the side, giving you a nice view of her side, and you sense a sharp tingling in between your legs. You try to ignore it.
“Please, open it, ” Zecora murmurs, leaning over closer. She shifts her body against your chair, her flanks again swinging into view. “You will need it, every bit.”
You pull the string, trying to get your mind off of the tent in your pants. You have in your hand a mound of thick cream, looking a lot like chocolate pudding with red sprinkles mixed all through it. Zecora silently moves a hoof over underneath your hands, and you lock eyes with her.
“Let me help you, my guest,” she says, “I can apply the special remedy the best.”
She takes the wrapping and sets it down on a stack of pillows besides you. You watch as she leans forwards, her head lined up right above your belly. You feel so nervous.
“Zecora, I… I…”
Zecora shifts her head down, and she focuses right on the tent in your pants. She makes a passionate smile, breathing hard. Without saying a word, she leans over and bites the top of your pants, crunching the button right off.
“Oh, God!”
Zecora pulls down with her teeth, your pants sliding down your legs. She moves for your briefs next. You see her mouth watering, and you can’t stand it. It all feels like an out of body experience.
“Zecora, sweetheart, is this what ‘fixing’… what ‘fixing’ means…”
Zecora rips your briefs down off your feet. She tosses her hooves over your legs, pulling herself up on the chair with you. She slides you over to the side, making sit upright. Your throbbing hard manhood juts right up in the air. Zecora pushes forwards with a hoof, and she nudges your manhood against your plain pink t-shirt. Ripples of joy erupt across your skin.
“Zecora…”
“Your virginity has ailed you for too long. I am more than willing to right what’s wrong,” Zecora moans, reaching down and pulling up the cream-covered wrapping. She dabs it all across the tips of both her hooves, and you let out a gasp.
It turns into a full-blown scream as her hooves slide up and down your manhood. She licks the very tip as well— her hooves making these amazing spirals up and down, over and over again. Your body shakes. Your head bangs against the side of the chair. Burst upon burst of total, unbelievable pleasure go off inside you.
Zecora suddenly stops. She bucks up on her back hooves. You hear clanging sounds, and you look up to see Zecora slipping her front hooves into shackes hung from the wall. You stand up from the chair, totally confused.
Even without her touch, you still sense that weird chemical cream, loaded up with goodness knows what, shooting tingles into your manhood. You glance down, and your heart just about skips a beat. Is this… is this creamy black stuff actually making my cock longer and thicker?
“Oh, God,” you moan. You don’t know if you’re making an honest prayer of total bewilderment or just cussing, but you almost bite your lip. You just feel this amazing stretching and throbbing going between your legs.
Zecora lets out a deep breath. You gaze at her as she steps up onto the chair with her legs spread, her front hooves jangling in her shackles. She’s presented herself to you, and you can hardly keep from just losing it. You eyes lock on her smooth pink slit right in between her huge grey flanks. She swings a little bit to the side, her flesh jiggling as her soaking wet marehood drips onto the chair.
Sheer animal instinct takes over. You hop upwards, holding your throbbing manhood in your hands, and you line up right behind her. You press forwards a bit, rubbing your thing against her right flank and aiming at her cutie mark. The pleasure feels incredible.
Zecora looks back at you, making a nasty, cunning looking grin. You groan. You grind yourself up against her flanks for a few seconds more, your mind swirling. Zecora lets out a breath and licks her lips.
“Your endless lust, you cannot hide,” she moans, “hurry my dear, and stick it inside.”
You run your hands along Zecora’s back, your fingers digging into her fur. You feel her long, fluffy tail curling around your chest and tickling your chin. You slide your hips a bit to the left, quivering with anticipation, and you nudge your rod against her marehood. She doesn’t just feel totally wet. She feels totally hot, her flesh simmering against your own flesh. You already want to scream.
You move your fingers down against Zecora’s nice, plump flanks, and you squeeze. She lets out a feminine squeal, and you smile. You grit your teeth. You press forwards.
*Thrust!*
Your body shivers, wave after wave of powerful pleasure coursing through your sides. You can barely breathe as Zecora’s plot takes you in, inch by inch driving you wild, and you finally smack yourself all the way to the base. Her hot, wet marehood seems to just milk you.
She groans, turning her head in a big circle. You pant, trying your best not to blow your load inside of her right then and there. You slide back, your fingers dancing little moves against Zecora’s flanks. You feel her snug, cuddly hole contracting against your thing. You feel as if your brains will start to melt.
You slide almost completely out, and you pause. You take a deep breath, and you slam forwards. You slap against her huge, rubbery flanks. You scream.
Zecora groans and chants something indecisperable. You’ve long lost the ability to think. You simply lean back, taking in those ripples of pleasure curling up your skin, and you pump once again. Her plot bounces up against you, feeling even better the second time.
You throw your body down, one hand gripping her right flank and squeezing while your other hand grips her mane. You can’t hold back anymore. She’s yours. You slam in and out again and again, letting out something like roars. The sheer joy feels like nothing you could have ever imagined.
You feel your eyes narrowing, your senses heightening, your mouth opening up wide, and noise after noise spurting out from inside of you. You rut her with total abandonment. She whines as you grab her mane back, your sack slapping up against her plot with every thrust.
She swings her head down, drool dripping from her mouth, and your fingers grip her shoulders. You scream as you feel her snug marehood welcoming you in, clutching even tighter than before. As bursts of joy amp up more and more inside your mind, you start to shake and moan. You know you’ll erupt at any second.
“Your, ugh, hard thing can’t stand, oh—dear Celestia, any more f-fun,” Zecora mumbles, her back hooves smacking up against your legs, “So— oh, wow— feel free to c-c-cum!”
You gasp, mind overwhelmed with sheer bliss, as she somehow holds you even tighter. You dig your hips as far as you can forwards, her wonderfully huge flanks rubbing up around your thighs, and you let yourself go. Your body collapses onto Zecora’s back.
You just melt inside of her. You feel every last drop that you possibly have flowing into her hot, wet marehood. You close your eyes, and you make a torrent of moans. Your mind has seemed to turn to jelly. Stab upon stab of amazing pleasure goes through both your bodies, and you feel Zecora trembling without an ounce of control underneath you.
After what feels like a thousand years, you slid your body over to the side. Zecora pants hard, and you pant even harder. You lay down upon the chair, slamming a pillow into your face. You gaze over at your limp manhood and then over at Zecora’s flanks, thick white film dripping down along her left leg.
“Your virginity is now ‘fixed’, given the perfect cure,” Zecora says, moving up her head and biting the latches around her front flanks. Totally free, she slides her body down and props it up on top of you, her hooves rubbing up against your arms and legs. “Your seed has flowed inside of me, sticking all through my fur.”
You silently reach down and run your hands along the sides of Zecora’s face. You gaze into her pretty eyes, feeling so warm and so sheltered at the sight. She smiles.
She leans over and kisses you. Your lips lock as you both moan. Your hands shift down along her neck, pulling her closer into her embrace. Her tongue tickles all around your mouth. Your legs nudge up against her bottom hooves, your feet tickling back the tips of her hooves.
She breaks the kiss, and she smirks once again. She flips herself around on top of you, positioning her plot right above your face. You let out a deep, strong gasp. She leans down and slurps your limp manhood, her talented tongue shooting sparks of joy into you no matter how exhausted you feel. She slides her plot a few inches down, and you don’t even think twice.
You lean forwards and start slurping. You little sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss around her perfect pink folds, her flanks rubbing up against the sides of her face. You can’t imagine anything else ever tasting this good. She kisses you back between your legs, and— despite everything you’ve heard from guy after guy during his 'first time'— your manhood bursts back to life.
You stick your tongue into Zecora’s slit, slurping inside. You can’t believe her sheer heat. You feel Zecora kissing all around the sides of your shaft, your thing begging you for a second round. You lick and lick. Zecora finally moves a few inches forwards and takes your whole thing in her mouth.
You feel her teeth dancing along your manhood, her tongue slobbering all over it, and you make a groan so loud that you think Princess Celestia could hear it. It feels like fireworks going off in your mind, powerful bliss driving you crazy. You eat her out. She sucks you with total abandonment. Time doesn’t seem to mean anything, anymore.
She slides up, now playing with just your tip, and you cringe. You know that she’s got that perfect pleasure spot in her sights, ready to go right at your weak spot right at the tip of your manhood, and you take a bunch of scattered breaths. Zecora calls out, “You must erupt all over my face. Lost yourself as you give me your sweet taste.”
“Zecora!” you scream out, crying from the pure joy. She gives you one final, amazing slurp. Your thing pulses as it creams all over her. Her flanks still buried over your face, you stick your tounge out and slurp inside of her just at the same time.
She screams. You make a muffled half-scream. She pops to the side off of you. Before you know it, you find yourself gazing at Zecora as she lies down on the floor. Her orgasmic face has to be the most beautiful thing that you’ll ever seen. She licks up around her snout, your cum stickling all along her nose and cheeks. You see her own cum pooling on the floor beneath her plot.
“Zecora…” you moan.
She looks up at you, positively beaming.
“The ‘fixing’ may be over, yet I can see on your face,” you chant, “that you know it, you’ll want me back at your place.”
Zecora chuckles.
Later that day…
You knock on Twilight’s door, grinning like a total idiot. You know that ponies have looked at your odd expression with big question marks over your head, but you don’t care in the slightest. You hear a bunch of noises going off inside.
“Yeah, yeah,” Twilight grouses from inside the library.
“It’s me,” you comment. Hey, why not? “It’s Scamper.” You can get used to that name. It sounds oddly playful.
She opens the door. You try not to giggle. Twilight’s hair looks half burned and half dyed some kind of purple-ish orange. She has one a pair of sunglasses over… another pair of sunglasses. Her mad-scientist like chemical suit has odd green goop dripping down along the sides.
“So, uh,” Twilight mutters, drooping down the chemical suit and wiggling her mane around. She seems to have a sheepish expression comes over her face. “How was getting ‘fixed’ by Zecora.”
“I can freaking die happy now!” you cry out. You shiver with joy just remembering your time together. “She can stop by to Sugarcube Corner later, right?”
Twilight lets out a deep, happy moan. “Oh, praise Celestia! I was so worried. So, so worried about having Zecora be one of those ‘fixing ponies’ that’s assigned to that messy work.” Twilight rubs her head against the door frame. “I can’t tell you… guess how many humans I’ve had to ‘fix’ myself over the past month?”
“Uuhhhh…”
“It’s in the double bucking digits!” Twilight calls out, taking off one her pairs of sunglasses and throwing it at you. You clutch it in your hands. “I can’t stand it! I came home at night, and I had to sit my flanks in ice to just get… to get… over you…” Twilight groans. “You stupid kinky human adolescent males.”
“Okay,” you reply. You don’t know what your emotions are doing.
“Anyways, now that you’ve been all properly domesticated to pony life,” Twilight says, putting her suit back on properly, “please head on back to Pinkie’s place. She needs you with those latest orders.”
You nod.
The door slams in front of you. You let out a little breath, and you head on down the street. You can’t help but make a goofy smile. You finally make it to Sugarcube Corner, and you pause. You lean up against Lyra’s new jewelry store.
“In ‘the double bucking digits’, Twilight?” you ask yourself, suppressing a huge laugh.
“What was that about Twilight?” Pinkie asks, her head popping up from inside of the stacks of bushes behind you. You hardly feel surprised; you’ve gotten well used to the pink mare’s physics-defying antics by now.
“Nothing,” you reply,” just nothing.” You both head back to the kitchen.
The End
