The Pangs of Depraved Love
“Wild night, huh?”
“You said it.
Lyra and Bon Bon stood at the edge of Ponyville’s square, looking out across their town as they’d never seen it before. Earth ponies flew through the night sky. Pinkie Pie performed a synchronized swimming routine in a pool full of chocolate syrup with multiple copies of herself. Spike the dragon, tall and muscular and handsome, entertained a gaggle of mares that hung on his every word. And, on one thatched rooftop across the square, Princess Luna lay on folded legs, horn glowing brightly as she chatted with Twilight Sparkle.
“Awfully swell of Luna to keep this shared dream going a while longer,” Lyra opined.
Bon Bon nodded. “I guess it’s her way of saying thanks to Ponyville—letting everypony live out their dreams while they’re lucid enough to enjoy them.”
“It was pretty awesome, wasn’t it?” Lyra asked, shooting Bon Bon a grin. “How the whole town came together to face down that dream monster cloud thing.”
“The Tantabus.”
“Gesundheit.”
Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Yes, well… I’m just glad everything worked out. Princess Luna is happy, and Equestria is safe.”
“Until the next monster attack, at least.”
Bon Bon snorted.
After another moment spent gazing out across the Ponyvillean dreamscape, Lyra looked back at her body—at their body.
“I still can’t get over this,” she said, tracing her eyes along her torso as it fused with Bon Bon’s at their waist. “It’s weird, but… it feels right, y’know?”
“Oh, I know,” Bon Bon cooed. She reached a hoof back to rub at the space where her beige coat met Lyra’s mint. “It’s not exactly what I had in mind when I dreamed of the two of us spending the rest of our lives together, but I won’t complain. I guess we always were joined at the hip, weren’t we?”
With a tender smile, Lyra reached her own hoof back to grasp her marefriend’s. They looked into each other’s eyes, and a comfortable, meaningful silence passed between them.
Lyra was the first to speak. “You wanna make out?”
“Yes,” Bon Bon replied. “Yes I do.”
It took no small amount of coordination, but the two-headed pony fell into a gallop and made their out of the square. As they moved through Ponyville’s smaller side streets and into the residential areas, the fantasies playing out around them became ever more… lewd. They blushed, but continued to run. By the time they got back to their cottage—or the dreamworld’s stand-in for it—they were even more worked up than they’d been before.
Once inside, they ran up the stairs and into their bedroom, collapsing onto the mattress in a sweaty, giggly, horny mess. Lyra lay on top of Bon Bon, folding their conjoined body nearly in half until they were chest-to-chest and nose-to-nose. Still breathing heavily from their run, they gazed hungrily at each other, and then promptly locked their lips together in a passionate kiss. Mouths opening, they brought their tongues together, the wet muscles lapping and grinding against each other like the old friends they were.
Everything they always loved about such moments of passion were present—the warmth of the other’s body, the feeling of their coats brushing together, the sounds of heavy breathing and little hums of approval. But now, those feelings were somehow amplified. The circle they made with their body, completed by the coming together of their lips, seemed to form a circuit through which all their love for one another flowed like an electrical current, and the sheer intimacy of their union, lent credibility by the vividness of the dream, only seemed to ignite that love like a burning fuse, all leading toward…
“Uh-oh,” Lyra said suddenly, pulling away from her partner’s lips. “I just realized something.”
“Yes?” Bon Bon replied patiently, for patience was indeed a virtue, especially when living with mint green unicorns.
“I was kinda hoping we could… y’know, have nookie.” She gestured at their fused form. “But I’m seeing a distinct lack of naughty bits here.”
Bon Bon’s eyes widened. “Oh dear, you’re right.”
“Kinda hard to bump uglies when we don’t have any uglies, amirite?”
“That is a problem,” Bon Bon agreed. “We could always… separate. This is a dream, after all. I’m sure it wouldn’t be a problem for us to split apart.”
Lyra pouted. “I don’t wanna. I want to have kinky, two-headed sex. How often does that kind of opportunity present itself?”
“Almost never,” Bon Bon said with a sigh. She pondered their dilemma, tapping her chin with a hoof. Suddenly, she brightened. “Oh, I have an idea!”
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm. Just leave it to me, love.”
Grabbing either side of the unicorn’s head, she began pulling it down towards her.
Lyra, expecting a kiss, closed her eyes, only to find herself with a face-full of chest fluff. She opened her eyes, cutting them up toward her marefriend.
“Uh… Bonnie? What’re you do—”
Bon Bon ran her tongue up Lyra’s horn.
“—ing-oooohhh holy cow!” Lyra moaned, a shiver passed through her body. And then that shiver continued into Bon Bon’s half of their body and directly into the earth pony’s brain.
Bon Bon winced as the sudden, bizarre surge of pleasure passed through her out of nowhere. “What in the…” Putting two and two together, she gave the unicorn’s horn a scrutinizing look, then licked it again. Once again, both mares gave a happy shudder. “Oh my,” Bon Bon breathed. “I… I can feel it! But how?”
“I dunno,” Lyra said, her tone suggesting that the matter wasn’t of priority to her. “We are joined together. And—y’know—dreams are all in the mind. So maybe the fact that our dream-bodies are joined implies that our minds are connected here.”
“I suppose that makes sense,” Bon Bon said. “I think. But I do know one thing: I can certainly see why you enjoy horn jobs so much now!”
“I know right? Speaking of which, how’s about you get back to blowing my headbone, missy?”
Bon Bon looked at the horn, licking her lips. “With pleasure,” she said, quite literally.
True to her word, she dragged her tongue up the green horn, more firmly than ever. It was the oddest thing she had ever experienced—giving and receiving a horn job all at once. She could feel the hard, smooth, spiral-fluted surface of the horn against her tongue, and she simultaneously felt the phantom pleasure her own tongue was delivering. Craving more of the alien sensation, she placed her lips around the tip of the horn and took it into her mouth, sucking on it.
Both mares spasmed, fighting to keep their eyes from rolling back in their sockets. Closing her eyes, Bon Bon began bobbing her head up and down on her partner’s horn. Lyra wrapped her forelegs around Bon Bon’s chest, her tongue lolled out of her mouth, relishing the feeling of her horn being engulfed, over and over, by her marefriend’s mouth.
As they continued their lovemaking like some kind of bizarre ouroboros, both of them began to feel a pressure building within them. Except, instead of being centered in their nether regions—of which they had none at the moment—it seemed to be buried deep within them, right around where their torsos met.
However, as good as Bon Bon had gotten at horn jobs over the years, and as good as this particular one felt, it soon became apparent to Lyra that something was missing. It was like her climax was just beyond her reach, moving away as she ran toward it. She realized that a little more oomph would be needed to push her over the edge.
Fighting through the fog of pleasure, Lyra wracked her brain for some solution.
And then she had an epiphany. She imagined a lightbulb being switched on over her head, but that might have been the sparks flickering off her horn as it was stimulated. In fact, she could even feel the tingly sensation it was causing inside Bon Bon’s mouth.
Getting back on track, Lyra returned to her epiphany. She and Bon Bon were joined—in body, but also in mind. And yet, their lovemaking was mostly focused on her. Yes, Bon Bon could feel what she was feeling, but still… they were out of balance.
Maybe, she theorized in her mind, we can only orgasm together. And for that, Bonnie’ll probably need some stimulation, too.
But how? Bon Bon didn’t have a horn.
And then, Lyra had another epiphany.
Moving quickly, Lyra grabbed one of Bon Bon’s hooves and brought it to her mouth, giving a firm lick to its soft underside. The beige foreleg twitched, and Bon Bon moaned around the horn in her mouth.
“Oh, wow…” Lyra moaned as the ghostly but very immediate sensation of her marefriend’s pleasure assaulted her senses. Bon Bon had always claimed to have sensitive hooves, and enjoyed having them licked and kissed, but Lyra had never really understood it. Frankly, she’d assumed it was an earth pony thing. But actually experiencing what her marefriend felt…
It was incredible.
She began to lick at Bon Bon’s hoof, lapping at the frog and running her tongue around the outer rim. Bon Bon whimpered, her drool running down Lyra’s horn and into her mane.
Now that both of them were receiving pleasure—as well as basking in the other’s pleasure—the pressure inside of them finally began to build, as if the wall separating them from the promise of release had been torn down. Their shared body shivered and twitched, glistening with sweat, and both mares let out little gasps and cries of growing bliss.
All they needed now was one final thing to tip the over the edge.
This is a dream, you know? Lyra reminded herself. Pretty much anything is possible.
Suddenly, Lyra smirked. Opening her mouth, she stretched her tongue out of her mouth… and then stretched it out some more, inch by inch, until over a foot of tongue hung out of the unicorn’s mouth. With an open-mouthed smile, Lyra began to coil the serpentine appendage around Bon Bon’s hoof.
Bon Bon’s eyes shot open, craning her neck to look to watch as the impossibly long muscle wrapped around her hoof and fetlock. She could feel it squeezing and writing against her, as well as the saliva soaking through her coat.
She released Lyra’s horn with a wet pop. “Ohhhhh, that feels strange.”
Lyra stopped, giving her an uncertain look.
“No, don’t stop. Please. It’s strange, but fun.”
With a twinkle in her eye, Lyra continued her surreal ministrations, causing Bon Bon to shudder and clutch the unicorn’s head against her chest. Bon Bon spent a moment relishing in the unusual but heavenly hoofplay, until, randier than ever, she took Lyra’s entire horn all the way to the base in one fluid motion, coiling her own tongue around the appendage.
Both mares cried out in their throats, pleasure ping-ponging between their brains and amplifying with each echo, the heat within their core growing stronger until it felt as though they might catch fire.
When they finally came, it was simultaneous. Or maybe there was only one massive orgasm, and both of them were sharing it. It was hard to tell.
It was as though the most heavenly bomb in the world had been detonated inside their gut. The shock waves of their climax swept through their minds like napalm, and each of them let out muffled shrieks around their respective mouthfuls.
The orgasm seemed to go on for hours, but then, time isn’t very reliable in dreams. Sooner or later, though, the waves of pleasure passed. Bon Bon released Lyra’s horn, Lyra’s tongue retreated back into her mouth, and they collapsed onto their sides in a panting, twitching, U-shaped mass of satisfied mare.
They looked at each other and chuckled helplessly at the strangeness of what they’d just done.
“Wild night, huh?”
“You said it.”
Bon Bon smiled at her, then stared at the ceiling. A contented silence draped over them, with both mares basking in their afterglow. But as the minutes rolled by, Bon Bon found a troubling thought poking at the back of her mind.
Finally: “Do you think we have problems, Lyra?”
Lyra thought it over, and said, “Yeah, probably. But s’all good. I’m pretty sure everypony in this town has problems.”
“Maybe, but… I’m pretty sure what we just did is on a whole other level of perversion.”
“You think so, huh?” With a smirk, Lyra raised her half of them up. “Let’s go take a gander, shall we?”
Together, they got out of bed and walked out onto their balcony, looking out across Ponyville.
“Bonnie, I give you Exhibit A.”
She pointed across the street, to where Big Macintosh—now an alicorn, apparently—was screwing a ginormous Derpy Hooves. And apparently doing a fine job of it, too, judging by Derpy’s squeaks of pleasure. As the mare came, she soaked Big Mac from horn to hoof in her juices. The stallion blinked, uttered an awed, “Eeyup...” and then continued to have his way with her.
With a smirk in Bon Bon’s direction, Lyra said, “Then there’s Exhibit B.”
She pointed over to Berry Punch, who lay on her back with her detached balloon head clutched between her front hooves. Said head was lowered between her hind legs with her face buried in her crotch. They couldn’t tell for sure what she was doing from this angle, but the way her back arched was a pretty good indication.
“And the less said about Exhibit C, the better.”
She pointed to a rooftop across the street where Filthy Rich could be seen, doing…
Bon Bon’s eyes widened. “My word. Is it even legal to do that to currency?”
“That’s not the point, Bons,” Lyra said, facing her. “Point is, most of the ponies in this town have major issues. So I figure we fit right in, you dig?”
Bon Bon rolled her eyes. “Yes yes, fine. Goddesses, Lyra, you can be such an asshole sometimes.”
Lyra gave her a peck on the nose. “Yeah, but I’m your asshole.”
Bon Bon have her a tender smile. “In every sense of the word.”
Giggling amongst themselves, they trotted back into their bedroom and closed the balcony door.
Ponyville was left to its dreams.
Which is probably for the best.
Because dayum.
Author's Note
I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize to William Shakespeare, whose body is probably spinning in its grave. Sorry, Billy, but it had to be done.
As indicated in the description, this story is sort of a loose sequel to "Bon the Miffy". I have an idea for another, more substantial sequel, drawing on ideas from "Slice of Life", but I don't know when I'll get to it. Either way, I do love writing these two.
