Hot Bruises

I wiped beads of sweat from my breasts, belly and forehead as I opened the door. Being inside a busted, dusty cabin for just a few hours made the sun’s light feel a little harsh. I raised my arm to my forehead to shield the fierce rays.

Before my eyes adjusted to the light, I heard someone whistling further down the beach. I turned my head just as everything became a little more visible, realizing that the whistling was meant for me. And I was okay with that.

The whistler among the group of soldiers was a bronze pegasus with a white trim around his arms and legs. He had a lot of excess fur to go around, and his mane was long enough to cover his eyes. And yet, he could still get an eyeful of me, something I placed one hand on my hip and the other around my head for.

“Ya like what ya see, furball?” I asked loudly.

“There’s a lot to like if you catch my drift, farmgirl!” he retorted. He bounced in place a lot; not in a childish way, but in an aggressive, energetic sort of way. I was particularly impressed by his swimsuit; he was apparently a lot less conservative about himself, as his trunks were cropped at his hips.

“Well, keep lookin’,” I said, sarcastically gesturing to myself as I stepped towards him.

“Ponyville babes are a breed of heart, huh?” he said. He certainly was a forward one. “Let me tell ya, Creed has good taste.”

I nudged his shoulder, crossed my arms and batted my eyes. “As do ya, good sir.”

This upbeat fellow was unphased by my counter-flirting, like his mind was moving as fast as his heart rate apparently was. “Hope he doesn’t mind me taking a look at your pretty self, then,” he said. Even up close, I still couldn’t see his eyes through all of that mane.

“I don’t, Skipper,” said Creed. I tilted my head and saw him approaching, quickly turning back as I realized that this pegasus was the ‘energetic little bastard’ he referred to earlier. I couldn’t believe I didn’t make the connection sooner. “I see you’re already getting familiar with my good friend Apple Bloom.”

“A little.”

“A little.” Creed nodded, glancing between me and Fuzzy. “Well, here’s a little introduction for you. Bloomer, did you know that Skipper was stationed in Saddle Arabia for two years?” He patted Skipper on the back and walked away, shooting me a wink.

“No shit?” I asked Creed, before realizing I should’ve directed the question towards Skipper. “Was there some sort of conflict over there? I don’t watch the news.”

“Nah, just a diplomatic mission that eventually devolved into a vacation.” He gave me a shrug and a smile, placing his hands behind him and clasped them together.

“I smell a story behind that.” I couldn’t help but smile as I saw a bright grin pop onto his face like a foal on Hearth’s Warming Day.

“Oh, there is! I’d say take a seat, but, uh...” He gestured to the sand below us, shaking his head. “Probably best if we didn’t. Right! Once upon a time, there was a dashing stallion serving Princess Celestia’s royal guard, Equestria save her. This stallion was a bit of a big sort with a really thick coat, so the leadership thought it’d be funny to send him off to one of the hottest regions on the planet. Not being the type to disobey orders, he accepted, though it wouldn’t be too improper to say some grumbling was done.”

He started pacing in front of me as he carried on with the story, posing like a drill sergeant describing his stories about war and bravery. His voice was powerful, too, though a bit too exaggerated to keep it from being silly.

“He was shipped out not a week later, and came to Saddle Arabia by ship after four days braving the seas and their choppy waves! He fought storms, blizzards, and hydra attacks to see his crew to safety!”

White Knuckles, who was just behind Skipper, rolled his eyes as I covered up my growing smile with a hand. ‘That didn’t happen,’ he mouthed.

Skipper continued. “And once he reached the sands of the great desert nation that Equestria had grown close to, and the beauty of the sands stretching on for miles, he had one thing to say...”

“‘Oh my damn, it’s hot’?” I chimed in.

“Bingo, dear listener. Anyway, luckily he and his entourage arrived in a pretty well-air conditioned city right off the boat. The brave soldier’s destination was a town closer to the capital, where some VIPs would be staying for negotiations with a local governor. He was on guard detail, but had some time to spare. Seeing all the exotic ponies around, their interesting culture seeped into his senses through the bright colors, the sandstone buildings, the delicious scents of food and perfume...”

“And the mares.”

“And the mares.”

“Figured,” I said with a chuckle.

“One has not experienced life before seeing a mare from another country. Their looks, their accents, their... fumeur corps chauds, were a sight to behold. Our hero had the privilege of staying at a nearby hotel featuring many waiting staff of, shall we say, angelic qualities. Their dress fit the figure and form like they were chiseled from marble by a great artisan, and provided many quality services for the entourage. As for the soldier with the ‘misfortune’ of being given guard duty in the country, he had other wishes to fulfill. There was time to burn, and the trip would not be that long, so he stood proud, thrust out his chest, and totally hit that.”

“By thrustin’ out his chest too far and hittin’ a poor mare?” I stuck my tongue out at Skipper.

Skipper dropped his dramatic pose and looked at me like Applejack would look at a pig outside of its pen; like I didn’t know my place. “That’s it. Arena. Now.” He pointed behind himself to a spot further down the shore.

I assumed that by ‘arena’ he meant ‘a circle traced in the sand.’ There, I saw a few more guards gathering around as Creed and White Knuckles stood face to face, their arms up and their legs bent as they stared each other down.

“What do you fellas learn in your unit?” I asked Skipper.

“Krav maga and karate,” he said.

“Are you kiddin’ me? I expected somethin’ more advanced than that.”

Skipper laughed like I had just dropped the best punchline of the year. “You jest now, farmgirl. Watch and learn.”

Creed stepped forward and cast the first punch at White Knuckles, who grabbed his arm with both hands, stepped around him, caught his head in a deadlock, spun him around, lifted him up in the air, and let him fall. Creed’s arm was caught in White’s legs, leaving him defenseless when White tucked and rolled, pulling his arm up to his head. The round ended with a decisive strike on Creed’s neck.

“One to zero,” said White as he stepped away from Creed. “I think you lost your touch in Neighpon, dude. Care to prove me wrong?”

I wasn’t impressed. I tilted my head towards Skipper and said, “Creed’s a lover, not a fighter.” And I would make sure of that later.

“No one stands a chance against my bro White,” Skipper boasted. “Watch him go.”

Creed stood back up without showing any sign of pain. He got back into his fighting stance, this one a bit more aggressive and mobile. He dodged both of White’s punches, as well as a fierce kick. He grabbed White’s leg and rushed forward, bending it and forcing White into a fall. Creed finished the job by planting his hoof on White’s chest. “One to one, friend.”

White stopped messing around. He got back up with a leg sweep, which Creed stepped out of the way from. White started punching quickly, to the point where his arms became blurs against the sand and sea. Creed didn’t even have to block; he stood tall against every punch, even advancing towards White despite the barrage. He brought his fist around for a mighty punch, but White caught his fist. Creed’s eyes widened as White swung him around. When Creed got his bearings and turned to face his opponent, it was already too late. White slammed both of his fists into Creed’s chest, knocking him down.

“Yata,” White said humorlessly, brushing his hands together. “Look who’s the top dog, dawg.”

Creed just relaxed in the sand, placing his hands behind his head as he watched his fellow guards exchange coin purses. There were quite a few happy faces in that crowd. “Okay, who’s next?” he asked.

“Me against this blowhard!” I yelled just as Skipper raised his hand. “I’m gonna replace his teeth with sand!”

The guards went silent for a second, then started murmuring to each other.

“Ooh, feisty! But this ain’t a wrestlin’ league, Bloomer,” said White Knuckles, raising his fingers as he walked towards me. “Just stay cool and enjoy yourself. Helps keep the pain down when you’re not as tense.”

“Care to help me loosen up?” I asked with a wink.

White paused his walk for a second, then nodded. He stepped behind me and grabbed my shoulders. With an intense squeeze, he dug into my skin. It wasn’t a proper massage, more of a brief warm-up, but it helped me relax a little after spending a few hours staring at Creed and fixing wood. I felt better the instant his fingers struck muscle deep. I moaned a little for White’s enjoyment.

“Feelin’ groovy?” White asked.

“Groovy as I’ll ever be.” I patted White on the cheek. “Thanks, fella.”

“Knock ‘im dead,” he said, bumping my fist.

“I’ll try.”

White wasn’t laughing. “No, seriously, knock ‘im dead. Dude hasn’t left me alone all summer. He’s a walking riot.”

I looked over at Skipper, who had already jumped into the arena. Between long stretches that emphasized his athletic frame, feminine legs and tout ass, he raised his arms to pump up the crowd. “Skipper! Skipper! Skipper!” they all cheered, making me feel a lot less confident about my odds.

“Save me,” I squeaked.

“Need another massage?” White blurted out.

I shook my head, partially to say no, and also to snap out of my sudden funk. I remembered that this wasn’t some overpriced wrestling match with flashing cameras and spandex (though Skipper would look damn good in a singlet). It was just a bunch of shirtless dudes sweating it out as they laid into each other.

I pinched myself as I stepped into the ring.

Skipper was feisty even in his battle stance. Despite being in the same pose as White was, he was far more jumpy, as if standing still for a second would literally kill him. But that was the beauty of it; he couldn’t stand still for a second!

Besides, two could play at that game. I got into my battle stance, a default capoeira shuffle. My hooves tapped the ground in a circular motion, while my arms went in and out as I swayed from side to side. I kept low to the ground, so any punches he’d throw would be more choreographed. At least, I figured they would be. I was only a blue level student in capoeira.

As I predicted, Skipper made the first move. He charged at me, faked out to the side, then slid for me, intending on tripping me up. I quickly jumped over his attack, swept the ground, and spun my leg into the back of his head. For a skinnier guy, he didn’t go down as easily as I expected.

He landed two punches on my shoulders. I backed away from his third one, and while he cast it out, I leapt into the air, twirled around and brought my legs up to Skipper. I twisted them around his arm, bringing him down with me as I fell on my back. I breathed through the pain as I pulled on his arm.

“Tap! Tap!” he shouted as he patted his free hand against the sand.

A lot of the guards groaned in disappointment, followed by applause for my performance. “Nice moves, Bloomer!” I heard one of them yell. I was more focused on Creed, whose arms were folded as he nodded approvingly.

“What’s the matter? Senpai finally notice you?” Skipper snarked.

I was laughing on the inside, but through my smirk I let out a battle cry and lashed out at Skipper.

He caught my punch and whirled around it, spinning and grabbing my wrist with his left hand. I felt his hoof kick at the back of my knee, and before I knew it, I was eating sand, my arm behind my back and his hand against the back of my head.

“It’s probably good we didn’t officially start the second round.” He chuckled as he let me go, letting me get back to my hooves and rub my wrist. Guy had a strong grip.

“Just getting you warmed up, sugarcube.” We headed back to our sides of the circle, Skipper getting back into his hopping stance as he made a ‘bring it’ gesture with his hand. He asked, and he would receive. “Just don’t cry. You’ll stink up the place with your huge vagina.”

Skipper grinned, putting up his fists. “Don’t poke the bear, Bloomer. The bear will poke you. Repeatedly.”

I swore I heard someone breathing heavily behind me. “That right?” I smirked as I lowered myself down, looking over his stance for weak spots. “Maybe provokin’ you’d be fun, then. I know a few spots that a mighty bear like you could poke.”

I grinned as I saw a flush show up on Skipper’s cheeks. Guess there was a way to make him front heavy. “Shut up and fight, Bloomer.”

“Aw, keep talking dirty!” I launched right at him, raising my fist. He flicked a hand up to block as I lunged in with a haymaker, feeling his palm hit my hand. He went into that takedown spin again, but he wasn’t expecting a kick straight to the backs of his knees. “Fool me once, honey!”

“Shame on you!” He kept his grip strong and whirled around, taking me for a ride. And not the fun kind. I yelped as he used his lowered stance to rip into a spin, dragging me in by the wrist and grabbing my shoulder. He stood back up, flipping me up over him and probably made things worse with a pirouette or something girly.

“Ah, crud.” I flailed above him as he kept his grip strong on my shoulder and butt, walking to the center of the arena, at least I thought so from what I could see. The world flipped over as he tipped me forward. He planted me on my hooves and kicked the backs of my knees, not giving me any chance to support myself as he took both my wrists in his hand and yanked back. I felt him plant his shoulder against my back, pulling me into submission by forcing me on my calves and bending me over.

I gritted my teeth and moaned with effort, trying to break out of his grip, but it was just too much. He had me beat... but not in a bad way, I had to admit. I wished I could look around and see all the guards getting all hot and flustered over me, but I was kinda stuck with my head against his.

“Tap it out, filly, or things’ll get a lot more rough,” he cooed into my ear.

“Yer just sayin’ that to flatter me, aren’t ya?” I smirked, still struggling against him. All I had to do was break his grip on my wrists, then I could bend down and catapult him with a kick.

“Maybe. Can’t say it’s bad being this close to a mare like yourself,” he replied. I looked back to see Skipper’s grin behind my left shoulder. “Gotta say, though, you are hella flexible.”

“Just born with it. Now let go.”

He did as I requested. My cheek landed in the sand first. I quickly got up and dusted the sand out of my legs and face, then turned to face Skipper yet again. Over his shoulder, I saw Creed, who was looking a little more red in the face than usual. He was applauding politely for Skipper, but his eyes were fixed on me. I kissed in his direction.

I heard Skipper running my way. I assumed he was about to attack me, so I ducked. Lucky me, he struck forward, treating me to a view of his arm and clenched fist. I shot my leg up and kicked his wrist away, then tucked myself in for a roll. I tumbled backwards, planted my hands in the sand and kicked my hooves outward. I could feel the bruises forming in Skipper’s six-pack.

While the poor dumpling was stunned, I went for broke. I stood up, still not having looked Skipper in the eye for this entire round so far, and lept into a backflip. I immediately regretted it for the stomach cramps. Still, had to see it all the way through. I reached my arms out and grabbed Skipper’s shoulders, with my momentum bringing him down with me.

But then he caught himself, stopping his fall with one hand and planting the other on me, leaving me pinned to the ground, flat on my back. Just when I thought I had a trained soldier on the ropes with my intermediate knowledge of capoeira… Wait, why was I surprised about this at all?

More surprising was the mischievous set of fingers wrapped around my left breast, connected to the sweaty arm of a sweaty stallion lying about me. His toned legs were already brushing mine, parted above my lower regions, and I was sure there’d be a part of him that would be very enthusiastic about what he was doing to my body.

Frankly, I didn’t mind, because even though I had lost the match, this more than made up for it. Skipper, by all accounts, was very pretty, and the fact that he was blushing and sweating made him a hilarious sort of pretty.“Hey, Skips McGee,” I said with a smirk. “If ya throw the match, I won’t tell anypony back in Ponyville this happened.”

Skipper finally let go of my tit and retracted his arm. I expected him to shy away after that, but he just calmly stood up and reached his untainted hand out to me. “I’d rather just apologize, honestly.”

I was about to take his hand, as well as make a few more generous offers to him. I could sense something here, and I was sure he would be open to a tiebreaker. But I hadn’t forgotten my previous engagement, and Creed was a much more tempting aspiration. And after getting worked up something fierce, I could’ve used another massage.

Like a guardian angel, Creed showed up just in the nick of time. The fringe of his well-groomed coat was glowing in the sunlight. As such, the rest of his body was cast in shadow, giving him a dangerous vibe. So much power in such a gentle creature, and there he was, taking my hand and helping me up.

Before I was fully up on my hooves, Creed reached his other arm beneath me and lifted me off the ground. I was swept up in more ways than one, weirded out by being treated like some sort of princess. And yeah, I liked a little romance just as much as anypony, but this wasn’t just affection, this was a sweeping declaration. He was saying ‘Back off, fellas, this is my mare.’ I liked being claimed.

“Whatever ‘the word’ is,” Creed whispered to me as he took me away from the applauding soldiers, “this is me giving it to you right now.”

“Now? You want me now?” I asked. At first I was beside myself, squeeing on the inside, but then I remembered that part of me that loved to tease. I fluttered my eyes at Creed, stroking his cheek as he stared at me with determination. “What spurred you on, big tall and handsome?”

“As far as I’m concerned, you can have all the fun you want with Skipper. After I’m done with you.” He said it like a driven warrior, but I could sense only the best of intentions behind it all. He had a sincere way of flirting.

But there was one thing that threw me off. “Uh, the bedrooms are back there,” I said, pointing over Creed’s shoulder. We were several yards away from the rest of the boys, and several more away from the cabin.

“Nuh-uh. I’m not waiting that long,” Creed said, nodding ahead of us. I looked where he was looking and saw a small opening between two thick patches of grass, marked by a fallen tree. “Besides, why would I keep you in a cramped room where I can’t see the sun reflect off of your beautiful figure?”

As I touched his chest, I felt a bead of his sweat roll onto my hand. “Creed, you complete me.”