Without a Butterfly

by realmjumper

Rating: mature
Tags: Tragedy, Dark
Length: 6617

A dark story of you, as Pinkamina

Fluttershy is the Butterfly of your heart. She gives you reason to live, to forget all the horrible, terrible things you had to live through; but now she's gone, called away by Princess Celestia to help a hoof full of settler ponies to inhabit a new continent on the other side of the world. Now the darkness that her love kept at bay comes creeping in, and now you have no reason to fight it.

Warning: [spoiler]Grimdark and the disturbing imaginations of a very sick and twisted mind, (also a writing experiment, so bear with)[/spoiler]

(Gory bits don't start till chapter 3)

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2015-08-15 08:31:25 UTC

Flight of a Butterfly

“This isn't goodbye.” You sniffle to the mare you've learned to love. “I'm sure we'll have a party once you come back from...from...where ever it is you're going!”

Fluttershy holds your gaze, smiling kindly as she too has unshed tears that threaten to spill over onto her light yellow coat. Her mouth opens to say something, but you just can't stand the thought of a friend leaving. Not just leaving, but the possibility that she wouldn't be coming back.

“You'll be sure to write every day, right? I mean, I so want to know what funny funtasic fun things you'll be doing there. You'll write, right?”

The pegasus folded her ears, shutting her eyes tightly as she replied, anguish in her heart. “Pinkie, I won't be coming back.”

You know this. You knew as soon as Celestia sent word through Equestria that they were going to colonize a distant land, a continent that had only recently been discovered, that Fluttershy was gong to be asked to go. She was perfect for the assignment. She knew how to tame animals as well as take care of their needs, which often meant becoming a farmer and, oft times, a forager in the Everfree.

The Apple family was also asked to begin the colonizing because of their know how in clearing land, planting and maintaining such a large orchard. Over the last week you quickly found that a lot of your friends would be going to colonize the new land, in hopes of growing the Kingdom of Equestria. They would be going, but not coming back.

You knew this, but it was too much to accept. You couldn't bare to part with friends so finality. What made the matter worse is it's only been a few months since you got up the courage to drop your over exuberance facade and ask Fluttershy, privately, without hiding behind any party or gags, to walk out with you.

Oh, how your heart pounded like a deep base drum as she stammered, trying not to look you in the eye. When she finally did, and said 'yes~' you felt like you're little party of one just became the perfect party of two. Now, the party had ended, and you just can't accept that harsh, horrible fact.

“W-w-what do you m-m-mean your...your...Yourhhoorrrrhaaaa-hhhaaaa-aaahhh!” You throw your hooves around her neck, letting all of it break free. The moment you over heard Twilight talking to Flutters about the trip, you felt a part of your heart crack. Every day, every passing hour, that crack just kept getting deeper and deeper, as you over heard conversations all over Ponyville of Ponies that were to go, and live in the new land.

Deep down, you knew Fluttershy would say yes. You knew she'd leave everything to go serve the Princesses, and to help others. But, what about you? You knew Fluttershy better than any pony, and you loved her in a way no pony could imagine. Didn't you matter? You feel her hoof stroke your puffy hair, not yet deflated from the horrible truth you keep denying.

“Pinkie,” She whispers in your ear. “I know it's hard. I love you too. I didn't know I could love a pony so much, until we started walking together. It's so hard to go, but I must. You understand, don't you? This is something I have to do.”

“No!” You bury your mussel deeper into her pink mane, your whole body shaking. “No I don't understand! No I don't WANT to understand!” Subconsciously, you held her tighter, as if she might turn into smoke and vanish if you let her go.

Her hoof touches your face, gently lifting your chin to come nose to nose with her. “I need to go. There might be plants there that can help cure illnesses or help ponies live stronger. Equestria needs to grow so we can better protect those we love. The Kingdom is only getting more populated, and if we don't have room, where would we raise all our little fillies and colts?”

“Then take me with you!” It was all you could choke out, as you feel her slipping further and further from your grasp. “Please? Don't leave me...Don't leave me alone again.”

Fluttershy face is one of deep sorrow and acceptance as she slowly shakes her head. “Pinkie, I can't.” Her voice cracks. Taking a pause to swallow back her tears, she continues on. “It's a long trip to the new land, and it very well may be dangerous. I couldn't put you in danger to be hurt, or even killed. And where we're going to be, there is nothing there. We'll have to work hard all day, clearing land, planting crops and creating a settlement.”

You knew your hyperactive character would make you more of a nuisance than anything, and despite how hard you tried to forget, you still remembered how life was on the rock farm. It was hard, depressing and left every part of your body sore. Yet you'd suffer all of that, just to be by the side of the mare you love.

“I'll work hard.” You start babbling, hysteria settling in as the cold grip of reality started to grip you. “I'll stop bouncing around and help ponies clear land, and plant crops. I'll....I'll...”

A yellow hoof places itself over your trembling lips. “I know you would.” Flutters whispers, tears spilling down her cheeks. “But I know how hard it would be for you. I love you too much to put you through all that, just because of me. You belong here, in Ponyville, with our friends here.” Silent streams run down your face as she continues to speak, “I'm sure you'll meet a handsome stallion who will treat you right and have lots of parties and lots of foals with.”

She kisses your cheek as she lets go, gently pulling you off. With grace you've only seen from this shy mare, she leans down to pick up her packed bag of her most prized possessions and starts to trot off to the gathering of those who had been selected for the colonizing. Not far away, you hear Sunset Shimmer and Twilight having an equally emotional farewell.

“You'll write everyday, right?” Twilight was asking, her voice catching. It was no secret that since Sunsets return, the two had been an item. A very cute one you thought at the time.

“Of course I will.” Sunset Shimmer replied. “I'll need all the advice I can get to make this a success. I...I still can't believe Celestia asked me to do this, rather than you.”

You glance over, tearing your eyes off the mare of your dreams to see the two standing close, horns touching. A very intimate touch for unicorns and Alicorns.

“My place is here, in Ponyville, as the Princess of Friendship.” Twilight spoke solemnly. “And it seems your place is in the new land, to lead and protect the ponies of the new Equestria Colony.”

You look back to Fluttershy, standing near the Apple Jack, Big Mack and Granny Smith, while they watched Applebloom give her final goodbyes to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle. The three fillies were hugging, crying audibly as others looked on with a mixture of understanding and pity. This was not easy on any pony, but live seldom was easy, even in civilization. You notice Sunset kiss her mare friend on last time, before trotting to the head of the group.

“Okay, Settlers, onward.”

That was it. No special speech. No band came to play, sending them off with gusto. No party, or royal escort. Just three little words, and they started the long trek to the coast, to get on a ship at Baltimare Harbor and sail away. With every step they take, walking further and further away, you feel your fractured heart start to break. You find yourself biting your lip to keep from shouting, trying not not make this harder than it needs to be. As you see the last glimpse of that pink tail vanish, you feel your heart shatter into a million trillion pieces, and then scatter like dust in the breeze.

Slowly, a hoof wraps around you, joined by another and another. You, Twilight, Rainbow and Rarity huddle together, unable to bare the weight of grief no more, and cry, knowing that this was the last time they'd see your now departed friends.

After a long while, Rainbow broke the sorrowful silence. “Welp,” She sniffs. “I guess it's back to work for us.”

Rarity, who was still holding you closely, nodded. “We wish them all the luck and success they need.”

“They don't need luck.” You correct, dragging a hoof across your eyes, trying to smile. “They have Apple Jack. And Big Mack. And....and...” You couldn't bring yourself to say her name. You knew you had to. You knew that she left a void in your chest that could not be filled, a void you didn't want filled. You never wanted to forget her. Not even for a second.

The others seemed to understand. “And they have Sunset.” Twilight added. “She still has the book Celestia gave her, so we can still keep in contact. I'll ask...” Twilight paused, as if looking at something, but you're too busy pawing at the dirt, trying to swallow the lump in your throat that just wouldn't go away. “...How things are. I'll keep every pony updated on things.”

There was another long pause of silence that seemed to seep deep into the world around you, turning bright colors into dull grays. Rarity rests a hoof on your shoulder as the others silently trot away, each going to her way.

“Pinkie, dear?” She nudges you gently to your hoofs. “Why don't you come with me? We'll have a nice hot cup of tea.”

You nod. You don't care anymore. The mare of your dreams was now gone, and every foul memory that her love kept at bay came rushing back all at once. The long nights you stayed up late, staring at pa's straight razor in your hoofs, wondering if life was worth living. The longly nights you threw a party, only to have everyone leave early. You remember the terrible days where you could overhear Mr. and Mrs. Cake arguing about errors in the finance records. The thought of Mrs. Cake's accusations that Mr. Cake was cheating with you still brings painful stings as you had never done anything to earn such spiteful words from her in your life. Every horrible, painful feeling that you keep hidden behind your mask of smiles and giggles, flooded your mind.

Slowly, you nod to Rarity. “Good. Come along dear. Still much to do today, but I'm sure it's nothing that can't be held off for a few more hours.”

“Rarity?” You ask as you walk with the fashionista. “Am I...Worth loving?”

The was the question. All your life, so many bad things happened to you, around you, because of you. You never thought your life was worth much until you met Flu- her. You still couldn't bring yourself to think her name. But it was her, the way she looked at you. They way she smiled that made you warm inside. She gave you a reason to live. And now, your reason was gone.

“Why of course you are!” Rarity exclaims, bringing you out of your dark thoughts for a moment. “Pinkamina Diane Pie! You are the most loved pony I know. If it weren't for Fluttershy just leaving I-” Her voice cut off abruptly as she watches you crumple to the ground at the sound of her name. “Oh my.” She places a hoof on your head, petting your now deflated mane. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to...” She kneels down on her fore legs, so she's face to face with you. “Yes, dear, you are worth being loved. I already love you. I love you so much, but I know you're not ready, nor do I blame you for it. I can't take her place, nor will I try. But, I will love you as she did you, with all my heart.”

You blink, her words registering in your head. With a bounce, you get to your hooves, glaring daggers at her.

“Really? It hasn't been a full three hours since she left and you're already hitting on me?!” You snort, no longer depressed, but angry. Angry that any pony could think that she would take the place of the one who claimed your heart. “I must say, if you were any more forward, you'd try and get me in bed with you! I'm NOT okay with that! Thanks, but I think I'm going to cancel on tea today. While I'm thinking about it, I don't think I'll be able to make it to our spa treatment tomorrow either, and you can cancel my order of twelve super duper frilly dresses for ridiculous parties too! I'm going home now!”

Rarity was stunned, and hurt. “Wh-no! No, I didn't mean it like that Pinkie!” She stammered, trying to salvage what she could of the train wreck she had just caused. “I was just-I mean I wanted-Pinkie dear, I wanted you to feel better. To know I ca-”

“Oh that's great! That's just dandy!” You spit out the words like they were as tasteless as rock oats. “Sure, Pinkie's a slut, lets make her feel better by saying we'd sleep with her since her partner's gone. Well done Rarity! I feel oodles better!”

“No! I never called you a slut!” Rarity's ears folded back as she lifted a foreleg nervously, ready to take a step back. “I...I was just saying I love you, Pinkie.”

You laugh, a very hard laugh. A laugh that seemed to be made out of broken rocks. “Well, you have a funny way of putting it. So funny, I'm laughing.” And with that, you spin around, slapping her in the nose with your tail. “So, unless you have more funny ways to say hurtful things, I'm going. Oh, and I think you'll want to forget that order for Sweetie Belle's birthday cake. I think the order got lost, and we're too booked for anymore orders right now to have any in time.”

You stomp off, leaving the white unicorn in tears, staring after you.

Snap of Sanity

The bell of Sugarcube corner rings as you enter into the shop. The empty shop does nothing for the emptiness you feel. The walk home had drained you of tears and replaced it with depression so strong, you doubted even Apple Jack's 'special cider' could even help. You hoped that neither Mr. or Mrs. Cake was in, as your depression would only deepen talking to either at the moment.

Mr. Cake was kindhearted and always treated you like a daughter, however he had a very awkward way of talking to you. It, at times, bordered on sexual harassment, as he felt the need to comment your flank size.

“Wider hips are very healthy to have.” He would say kindly, as if you were a filly crying about having a big flank. “And often, Stallions prefer the larger flanks than skinny ones.”

It was comments like that, that would fuel Mrs. Cake's rising hatred of you. Ever since you stepped hoof into their shop four years ago, news paper in mouth, inquiring about their add about a free room and apprenticeship, Mrs. Cake had been eying you like some eggs that were found at the back of the fridge after several months that you were positive were rotten, but couldn't prove it until you broke the shell.

Sure, she was friendly, from her smile and how she talked to you, but you could tell. You could tell how much she despised you. The first time she made a comment was after you'd been working for them for a few months.

“Oh deary.” She said in her gay voice that seemed to lighten up the room. “Mr. Cake sure does appreciate the extra help around here.” She smiled, a glint in her eye, betraying anger. “It seems he sure does like baking cookies when you're around. Lots and lots of cookies.”

At the time, the statement was just a fact. You were a bakery. Bakeries sold many goodies, and cookies were among the more popular tasty treats. It wasn't until you overheard their first argument, a few weeks later, that you understood what she really meant.

“Dear, Sugar plum, calm down.” Mr. Cake's voice drifted up to the bedroom where you laid in bed.

“No, don't you Sugar plum me! I bet you've been sharpening your carrot to pop a balloon or two!”

You're ears perked up. What were they talking about? As you rolled off your back, as too sit up and swivel your ears around to the cracked door, you listened more intently. You were never exactly clueless, but at the time, you still had your innocence.

“Sugar Cake. That's not true. I only slipped her a few bits so she could get that paint kit she wanted so badly. Pinkie is such a hard worker around here, we really don't pay her enough.”

“She's an apprentice.” Mrs. Cake snapped. “And we don't pay apprentices period. She gets a free room and food.” There was a pause. “And what do you mean working hard. I hardly see that filly of a mare working at all.”

Your ears droop. That was uncalled for. You worked as hard as you could, especially when she asked you to run errands around the town. For some reason, Mrs. Cake had a lot of errands whenever you worked with her, and she barely raised a hoof to teach you any of the recipes. Not that you needed much help, but still, she was suppose to teach you something.

“I mean, when I work with her, she's always baking cookies, cakes, fritters, brownies, name it, she can bake it.” He chuckled at his little jingle.

“I see.” There was a drawn out pause. “And, what were these extra orders of flour? It says here you ordered eight bags? Why did I only count five?”

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind of the conversation from so long ago. This only made things worse. First, she left. Another stab shocked your none existing heart, as your ears folded. Now, you were remembering some of your worst days. You couldn't handle this. Not now.

As you made your way up the stairs to your room, you could hear Mrs. Cake in the back, humming merrily to herself. At least she was happy. She might even let you stay in your room till supper.

“Oh, Pinkie dear.” She called up, dashing any and all of your hopes to go unnoticed and be left alone for the day. “Can you run a few errands for me?”

“Sorry Mrs. Cake.” You call down, just raising your voice enough so it could carry downstairs. “I'm not really feeling well today. I'm just going to lie down for a bit.”

There was no reply, so you kept walking your way up the stairs, until you heard a voice from behind. “I'm sorry, dear, but I wasn't asking.”

You signed, looking over your shoulder at the slightly pudgy blue mare with a pink mane that looked like it was colored whipped cream. “Please,” You asked, your voice flat and emotionless. “Can I just have the day off? My...friends left today. They...” You willed yourself to be strong and not break down again. “...Left for good today. I need some time to myself.”

“Pardon me,” Mrs. Cake smiled warmly. “I'm terribly sorry to hear that, but this is still a business, and if we closed down for every little thing, we'd go bankrupt and be thrown out like garbage, so lets get our rear in gear and run some errands dear.”

You wondered how this pony could despise you so much and yet speak to you like you were her best friend. Knowing that there was no arguing, you sigh in defeat.

“The list is on the counter. I should take an hour, or so.” She smiled.

You don't pay much attention to her as you trot your way down stairs and grab the list of needed  ingredients. Flour, corn starch, chocolate chips, coconut flakes, strawberries, blue berries, raspberries, bananas, walnuts. The same things kept running out almost every other day. It wasn't until you started trotting away from the bakery, that you realized you had no bits to pay with. Your money was still in your room.

“Could this day get any worse?” You ask yourself, turning around and making your way back to the shop. If you were quite, you could slip in and out without being noticed.

Upon entering the shop, again, you noticed that it's again empty. The shop bell rings it's silver tickle as you make your way to the stair, when something stops you. At first, confused, you stand stalk still, swiveling your ears around, trying to locate what it was you heard. Muffled cries seemed to be coming from...the storage room.

For a moment, you hesitate, not wanting to know. Not knowing is better than knowing sometimes, but curiosity got the better of you. Truth was, anything that caught your attention at this point was welcome, as it drew you away from the pain of...her.

On silent hooves, you make your way to the storage room, each step causing your heart to pound with what you might find. As you near the door, and peer through the key hole you see a stallion you don't recognize, mounting Mrs. Cake and riding her for all he's worth, while she bit down on a bridle, a look of bliss spread across her face.

Time was lost to you. It almost seemed like what you saw wasn't real. There she was, the mare who accused her husband of cheating on her, being rutted by a stallion with a foot in a half pole. You didn't even notice that you had moved away from the door, until you felt yourself biting down on the handle of the large carving knife kept in the kitchen.

For a moment, you paused.

“This so screwed up.” You mumble to yourself, tasting the wood of the knife handle. “Nothing is worth all this.”

You put a foreleg on the cutting board, laying the knife across the main artery. How this brought back memories, but for now, your mind was in the present. All your thoughts screamed that this was the only way out, but...but..

The knife clatters to the floor, as you slump, crying. You couldn't do it. No.  You couldn't take your own life. As harsh as this life was, you were scared of what you'd find after, or if there was anything at all.

Mrs. Cake's moans of pleasure drifted into the kitchen. The sound rippled through your mind, sending anger coursing through your body. Wrapping a fore hoof around the handle of the knife, you march to the storage door.

“I can't kill myself.” You start muttering to yourself. “No, I can't. Then they win. They win. All my life, they won at everything.” A chill runs down your spin as you feel a smile, a cruel smile, spread across your face as you stand at the door. “I can't kill myself.” You say again. It was a funny line to say. “I can't kill myself.” A giggle. A giggle bubbles it way up your throat as you turn and buck open the door, reavealing two very stunned ponies, in an intimate embrace.

“I can't kill myself!” You laugh. “Buuut, haaaahhahahhaha, I can kill YOU!”

Two Cheaters

It would be all to easy to kill the two right then and there. Both stunned, unmoving from the intimate position you caught them in. The only movement, in fact, was the thick stream of yellow that now flooded out of Mrs. Cake's nethers to the floor, as both participants pissed themselves at your sudden, and quite terrifying, entrance.

Holding the knife to Mrs. Cake's throat you glower at her, smelling the stale smell of sweat, sex, and now urine.

“Both of you, out, to the table.” You growled. There was no plan as you kept a secure grip on the knife handle, forcing them to do what you said. If things were under different circumstances, they might have even escaped, due to your lack of experience with such situations, but these two were too dumb and scared to even think about trying to run. You feel your lips curve into a tight grin as wave upon wave of cruel ideas of torture came to your mind.

It didn't take much time, securing them to some chairs that were kept in one of the back rooms, and with all the balloon knotting you've done in the past, you knew there was no way, without divine intervention, they were going to get out of those ropes.

“P-p-please don't kill us!” The mystery stallion cried. Oh my. This would be a mood killer. “W-w-we're so-”

You didn't even bother to look the pony in the face. With a deft movement, you stabbed the knife down, sliding straight in his left foreleg. His screams were reduced to crocks and coughing as you added a swift jab to this throat.

“Now do you understand?!” You demand, blood boiling from between the cold steel of the knife and the pale blue fur. “You're not in control here, so SHUT UP!!”

The stallion choked, and gasped, unable to make any intelligible sounds. With a vicious jerk, you grab the knife, seeing the dark well of blood overflowing around the glistening metal, slowly slipping over the edge and sliding down his fur, creating lighter streaks of red. It reminded you of hoof painting, when you were younger.

Tugging at the knife, you discover some resistance, like some little part of the blade was snagged on something that just wouldn't budge. Switching your grip from a hoof to your mouth, you start working the knife side to side, widening the cut, forcing more blood to spill over and river down the stud's forelocks, causing his eyes to water as he whimpered. With a sudden sensation of release, the knife blade popped out with a little jolt, that sent you off balance for a moment.

Red splattered on the floor. Looking at it, the blood of your first victim, something stirs in you. What was it? What about this dark, red blood made you feel so...alive? So, complete? No, complete was the wrong word. There was only one thing in the world that could do that, and she was walking further and further away as you thought. No, this blood made you feel...pleasure.

Hesitantly, you drip the knife still in your gritted teeth and lean down a little. You sniff the blood spatter, not sure what to expect. It...smelled...like iron. No, no iron. Rust? Dipping your head a little further, you experimentally lap at a few drops.

The sensation to hit your taste buds was unexpected. There was a metallic taste, along with salt. Other than that, there were no real flavors you could detect, but it did leave a strange after taste, like the taste. The sensation in your stomach and chest stirred once more.

Mrs. Cake's whimpering brings you back to reality. You look from her to her 'lover' and an idea pops into your head. An idea that would let you experiment with this new sensation, and also, let you show exactly how you felt about all these years of passive aggressive abuse directed towards you. Oh the idea made you giggle. It made you happy, and you started to prance around like a giddy school pony with her first crush on the playground.

“Let's play a game, shall we?” You chortle to the stallion. “I will ask some questions. If you answer truthfully, something good will happen. But, if you tell me a lie, I'll hurt you. Sound like fun?” You giggle-snort at his wide eyed look.

“Now, first question, how long have you been,” Putting a hoof to your chin, you sit back and think for a moment. “What's the polite way to say it? Knocking boots with Mrs. Cake?”

“T-three months!” He stammers. All your experience throwing parties has taught you when ponies lie. A most useful tool to know if the party was a real success or the pony is just trying to make you feel better.

“Oh no,” You frown comically, as you lay the knife on his thigh. “That was a lie.”

You smile broadly as you pull the sharp steel slowly across his skin, not pressing too deep. His gasps of pain delighted your ears as you watched the paper thin line in his light blue fur slowly started to weep with dark crimson tears. The red tears demanded your attention and so you watched for a few moments before remembering, you were playing a game, and it was some pony elses turn.

The world seem to blur as you whirled around, like a ballerina, until you lost your balance, sitting onto Mrs. Cake's lap. The world seemed content on spinning without you, causing you to giggle like a little filly, wrapping a foreleg around her neck, sharing this moment.

“Oh ho ho, this is fun, wouldn't you say?” You yank down the bit that was still in her mouth. “Now, then, same question. How long have you two been hiding the snake?”

The blue mare's mouth just opened and closed inaudibly, a look of naked terror spread upon her chubby face.

“I'm sorry,” You put a hoof to your ear. “I didn't catch that.”

“F-f-for t-t-two years!” She stammers, eyes watering.

You weigh that. For two years? That made sense. That's when she started sending you out on 'errands' while Mr. Cake wasn't home. You'd have to think of something really special to punish her. But, for now, she told the truth and so you'd do something good, that is to say, good for you.

“Now, then,” You smile, face hidden behind half your straight pink mane, as you face the stallion. “I promised something good. Oh, poor poor Mr. Stallion, you're not smiling.” Springing forward, so you are nose to nose with him. “I'll make you smile all the day long, then you'll never have a frown.”

You ram the knife into the side of his mouth, where the corners of his lips meet and start sawing. Blood spurts with each cut, as his mouth opens wider and wider from the combination of his pained yells and your fast sawing. You marvel at the bloody tissue, watching the space between the outside cheek and the inner, red flesh of the mouth writhe and bubble over with bloody energy as the stallion's heat beats faster. You let the blade stop half way up his cheek.

“And now,” You smile, with a giggle-snort. “That other side! We can't have you lopsided now, can we?”

Pale blue, the name you thought up at the moment, could only weep as you started working on the other side of his mouth and cheek, the ripped skin parting to show his teeth and blood soaking his face fur, giving him the look that his lips truly did reach up in a goofy smile.

“Yay!” You shout as you finish. “Now then!” An idea popped into your head. It was a wonderful idea, that would both reward Pale Blue for being such a good sport, and also punish Mrs. Cake for being such a naughty naughty mare. “Tell me, Mr. Blue, do you like eating,” You pause, hooves to your mouth, leaning in to whisper the naughty word. “Pussy?”

Still weeping, Mr. Blue nodded, not wanting to tell another lie. Popping up into a jump of glee, you sit on his lap, laying a hoof on the bloody mess that was now his extended mouth, turning his face into your soften gaze.

“I'll give you what you want.” You coo to him. “Be one moment.”

Gracefully, you slide off his lap, knife still in a wrapped hoof, and start stalking your way to Mrs. Cake.

“P-p-Pinkie! What are you do-”

“Mr. Blue is feeling awfully blue.” You cut in sympathetically. “After all, he came to see you, and he didn't get what he wanted, but I'm going to change that.”

Before she can ask what you mean, or protest, you kick her chair backwards, slamming her head against the ground. You look at her spread legs, seeing her puffy blue lips, hiding her soft, supple pink flesh.

With a shallow jab, you stab at the base of those puffy blue lips, the causing a spasm of electrifying, burning pain to course from Mrs. Cake as a scream ripped through the air, reverberating in your ears and pounding on your ear drums. Working the knife shallow, and smoothy, you start cutting her labia, slowly pulling it off, blood spouting like a fountain. It wasn't long before you held two globs of quivering globs of fat and fur in your hoof, watching the discolored white of the exposed fat wash over with red liquid, leaving a tight vaginal cavity exposed, for all the world to see.

Turning, you smile at the widen eyed Mr. Blue, holding his prize aloft, so he could see them in all their fat, bloody glory.

“Now, you get to feast on Mrs. Cake's puss, you lucky dog you~”

Mr. Blue shook his head violently, sending rivets of blood and saliva into the air to splash down on the ground as he attempted to scoot his chair away. The action made you giggle.

“Silly willy, this is for you, don't refuse.” You step forward and pry his jaws apart. “She was going to give it to you anyway.” You add, forcing the bloody fat and fur far into his mouth, causing hims to gag and cough. Quickly, you tickle his chin with your knife. “And don't think about spitting it out either. That would be rude.” Mrs. Cake was still screaming. “And that would hurt her feelings, so eat up now. I want to see a lot of chewing before you swallow. Savor her flavor, you only get it once.”

Mr. Blue cried, forcing himself to chew the blood, fur and fat of his lover, shutting his eyes tightly, and trying to not move his mouth too much, as jerky motions jabbed his chin on the knife point. After a minute of chewing, he gritted his bloodied teeth and forced himself to swallow. It took him three tries, but with the encouragement of the knife, now making little circles in his under jaw, he swallowed Mrs. Cake's outer lips.

“There! You got to have what you wanted. Now, I wounder what Mrs. Cake wants?”

You thought about it for moment. The first idea was a fun one. Serve Mr. Blue's balls on a silver platter for his lover. The idea made you giggled and the double entendra, but you let it go, as you more or less did something close enough already. As you looked at Mrs. Cake, you got another idea, but it had it's draw backs. On one hoof, it meant the end of her suffering, but on the other hoof, his reaction would be so priceless. That, and the stupid whore wouldn't stop screaming and crying. Might as well just put her out of her misery.

“I've got a special gift for you, Mr. Blue.” You tell him, thought it seems like he isn't listening. Oh well, his loss if he didn't want to pay attention. “I'll be right back.” You add, walking over to Mr. Cake, lifting her chair back all four legs, and drag her out of the kitchen to the small little pantry.

As he whipped the nonexistent sweat off your brow, you thought again how you were going to do this. With a shrug you thought a straight forward approach was better than being creative. This was your first time, but something told you it wouldn't be your last.

And with that, you yanked Mrs. Cake's head back, and slashed across her throat, showering the small pantry with her gushing blood. Not waiting for the mare to fully die, as it took a few seconds to completely bleed out, you started hacking at the flesh and bone in her neck. It was harder than you thought it'd be, the blood making the handle of the knife slick, and the meat of the neck often caused you to stop and look, seeing how fat was marbled into the warm muscle, causing your mouth to water for some odd reason.

As the bone couldn't necessary be cut through with the kitchen knife you had, you opted for a more primitive way to sever the head from the body. Taking both sides of Mrs. Cake's lifeless head, you snapped it sharply to your left, then to the right, continuing all the way around, like you were simply screwing it off. With crunchy cracks and snaps, you found yourself, holding the chubby blue mare's decapitated head, a look of horror still imprinted on her face.

You dance gleefully. Oh Mr. Blue would be happy with this! Kicking the door open, causing it to bang on it's hinges, you hold the blood dripping head behind your back and skip up to Mr. Blue.

“I have a gift for you!” You sing, causing him to snap his head up, a new wave of fear flooding over him. You reveal Mrs. Cake's head. “Now you can really fuck her brains out!”

He screamed. He screamed, and screamed, and screamed. He must have really like it.

“Now, I hope you like her deep throating, because that's what your going to get!”

Dropping down to your knees you look at his shriveled cock. Something was wrong. It should be all long and hard. Idea! Without bother to explain your idea, you bounce up and look around the kitchen until you find—gasp—there it was.

“Now, you'll enjoy what's coming.” You giggle. “I'm a bad mare, but you'll like it Mr. Blue.” You reveal a long candy thermometer.

You dance to where he's sitting, struggling helplessly, and place a hand on his sheathed member. Pressing firmly back on the skin, you expose the head of his large penis, and grab hold with your teeth. He screamed at the bit while you pulled it out enough to work with. Looking at the thermometer, you see that it's a size too big for Mr. Blue. Oh well. Lining up the narrow tip with his pee hole, you hold a moment of concentration, waiting for him to figure out where this was going, and slam in hard before he could protest.

He would have fainted from the pain, had he been any less of a stallion. You were so proud. His cock now stood erect and you lined up his bulbous head with Mrs. Cake's exposed esophagus, and started forcing it onto his shaft.

He didn't make it long. After about fifty stroke, Mr. Blue went limp, and became unresponsive. You checked his throat for a pulse, but found none. Guess the treatment was drop dead amazing! You giggle as a new sound reached your ears. A sound coming from outside.

You rush up to your bedroom, leaving it open a crack, so you could watch who the new pony is, and what they think of your impromptu work. Oh, this would be so much fun, you can barely wait.