Uniting a Nation

Cheerilee woke with the sun. After the dramatic way the world had ceased to exist the previous night, she was a bit surprised to see the sun at all. She rose from the disorganized pile of scrolls and reference books she’d been poring through during last evening’s sun-out, and headed to the balcony of the crystal palace, to have a look.

Overhead was what was left of Celestia’s sun: a black, dead orb, a blotch against the blue of the sky, the scattered clouds left over from the last real weather obscuring part of it, but not nearly enough for comfort. The sunlight, if that was what it really was, came from a second orb, too bright to look at for long, hovering high over Canterlot. It was no mystery who was responsible.

She wondered how long the unicorns would be able to keep it up. What she’d read from Twilight Sparkle’s notes was enough to confirm her fears, even if the middle-case calculation on the chalkboard had shown Equestria ‘uniting’ with plenty of time to spare. One of the assumptions built-in to all of the scenarios that hadn’t resulted in the eventual death of everything was that Equestria’s population would drop rapidly. Exponentially, in fact. Sooner or later, there wouldn’t be enough unicorns left in Equestria to cast that spell, and then what would they do?

Unless, perhaps, the magical energy of the ponies that the remaining unicorns devoured was available for their use? It seemed like it would have to be, in order for the final spell to work. Maybe she was worrying over nothing. Or maybe she wasn’t – what they were trying to gather the energy for wasn’t exactly a spell. With that much magic concentrated inside of a single, ordinary pony, there was no spell that could hope to control the forces that would be unleashed. The hope – the prediction – was that the last pony standing would have a strong enough mind to direct the magic through sheer force of will.

Or perhaps not the last pony. They needed most of Equestria’s energy to be concentrated in one place, but a few holdouts here and there wouldn’t matter. Of course, they also wouldn’t survive the destruction and recreation of the world, so there was nothing to gain by hiding except for a significantly more painful death. ‘Everypony needs to be eaten’ was a simpler, roughly equivalent message.

Cheerilee sighed, realizing that even though she’d gone outside, she was still woolgathering. She’d been spending too much time among Twilight’s dusty old books. She would have liked to convince herself that it was Twilight’s influence – that she hadn’t annihilated the princess when she absorbed her liquefied remains – but in her life as a teacher she’d spent many a night staying up late drifting from book to scroll to manuscript, after getting distracted from the material she was supposed to be touching up on in order to carry out her lesson plan. The only way Twilight was influencing her was through her own sense of responsibility. She’d eaten the only pony who actually understood what was going on, and it seemed like somepony should try to keep track of it.

She looked down over Ponyville, at the ponies emerging from their homes and going about their business. Sometimes, that business involved going over to a friend’s house, and vanishing inside after a short conversation. Was that normal social interaction? Or were they arranging for one to eat the other? She’d have to go down into the streets to find out, and the thought terrified her. She knew that she was in no danger – if she didn’t want to be eaten, nopony could eat her. All she had to do was say ‘no’. Still, the odds of her surviving until the next sun-out were slim.

“We’ll start slowly,” she said to herself, turning and walking along the railing until she was facing the farmland on the outskirts of town. Sweet Apple Acres dominated the view – quiet as a grave, now, with no sign of the Apple family. There on a hill next to it was a small carrot farm, however, and a pony with a carrot-colored mane was out in the garden, working on her carrots. Cheerilee frowned. She was pretty sure the mare’s actual name wasn’t ‘Carrot Top’, but that was what everypony called her.

Oh well. It wouldn’t matter for long.

===

Carrot Top didn’t look up as Cheerilee approached.

“Hello?” Cheerilee called out, carefully walking around the edge of the soft soil where the carrots were planted.

The orange-maned mare looked up, but didn’t say anything.

“I was wondering if you could help me with a few things,” Cheerilee said. “I’ve been looking through Twilight Sparkle’s notes –“

“Princess Twilight Sparkle,” Carrot Top said.

“According to her notes,” Cheerilee said in a firm voice, “each of us has to eat several ponies each day if we’re to unite in time to save the world, preferably ponies who’ve already eaten a similar number of ponies as we have. So I was wondering how many ponies you ate yesterday?”

Carrot Top looked back down at her carrots. “Three,” she said. “Three colts. Snips, Snails, Truffle.”

“Oh, good, I was worried that those two would somehow manage to mess things up again,” Cheerilee said. “And Truffle already ate Twist, at least, so that’s effectively four ponies. Good work!”

For some reason, this seemed to make the farmer angry. “So is that it? Or are you going to ask if you can eat me, now?” she asked.

“May I?” Cheerilee asked. She probably didn’t have to eat anypony else – Twilight Sparkle’s energy would go a long way – but as long as she was offering, it would be silly to turn her down. Silly, and counterproductive.

Carrot Top worried at a weed, dragging it out by the roots. She spit it off to the side, and looked back at Cheerilee. “Maybe I’d rather eat you,” she said. “After all, you’re not covered in dirt. Probably taste a lot better.”

Cheerilee kept the rush of fear from showing on her face. She chuckled, and shook her head. “I’m afraid I’m not looking to be eaten just yet. I was going to do a quick survey of the town, and make sure that ponies were eating each other at an acceptable rate.”

“Why?” Carrot Top asked.

“Because if they aren’t, then we’ll have to take steps to improve participation,” Cheerilee replied steadily. “We can’t force them to volunteer to be food, but perhaps some sort of educational presentation would do the trick?” She paused. “Maybe a puppet show. Ponies love puppets.”

“Well, I’m busy too,” Carrot Top said, digging around another weed with a hoof. “Garden won’t weed itself.”

Cheerilee nodded, cautiously, and watched her for a while. Eventually, Carrot Top looked up again.

“What?” she snapped.

“That looks unpleasant,” Cheerilee said. “I’ve done some light gardening, and weeding was always my least favorite part. I can’t imagine trying to care for a plot this large!”

“It’s not my favorite bit, no,” Carrot Top said. “I’m used to it, though.”

Cheerilee nodded. “I suppose it’s easy to just follow along with your day to day work, once you get in the habit. You do know that you can stop though, right?”

Carrot Top looked up, in confusion.

“No one’s ever going to eat those carrots,” Cheerilee said. “We have plenty of food already harvested to last until the end of the world. If you aren’t enjoying your work, you should stop.”

“And do what?” Carrot Top asked, sitting up in the dirt.

Cheerilee shrugged. “Nothing. Enjoy yourself. Or, if you want to help, go find ponies to eat. We really do need everypony to eat several other ponies a day.” She tilted her head. “Or I could eat you. I need to make my quota, too!”

Carrot Top stared at her, then ducked back down to her carrots, poking at the dirt nervously, pushing around the soil instead of actually digging. “I’ve got… I have to… please, just leave me alone.”

Cheerilee sighed, and shook her head, then walked over and placed a comforting hoof on Carrot Top’s shoulder. “I understand. You’re scared. But the ponies you ate yesterday – they didn’t suffer, did they?”

“How would I know?” Carrot Top growled. “I don’t know what happened to them. Maybe they’re suffering now.”

“They aren’t,” Cheerilee said.

“How do you know?” Carrot Top asked.

Cheerilee smiled, and stroked Carrot Top’s back. “What’s left of them is still inside you, thanks to the spell. If there’s any sort of afterlife, they won’t begin their journey until after we’ve created a new world. For now, they’re resting. Their work is done.” She paced around until she could lift Carrot Top’s chin and look her in the eyes. “Just like you. Your work is done. You can rest, now.”

“Inside your stomach, you mean,” Carrot Top grumbled.

“The last pony I ate found it comfortable enough.”

Carrot Top looked to the side, shaking the hoof off her chin. “I’m filthy.”

Cheerilee looked her over. “You could take a bath?” She paused. “For that matter, I could use a bath myself.”

Carrot Top nodded, and stood up, walking around towards the side of her house. “Hose is over here.”

Cheerilee was more used to warm baths, not being a farm pony, but the sun, small and strange as it was, was warm enough that the cold water from the hose was no hardship, and for an earth pony it was always easier to wash up with a partner. They took turns hosing each other down, but when Carrot Top reached for the soap hanging on a hook nearby, Cheerilee stopped her. “I know it would probably rinse out, but I’m not fond of the taste.”

Carrot Top paused, and shook some water out of her mane. “I’ve got some herbs in the kitchen. Grew them myself.”

Cheerilee’s eyes widened. “Oh! That sounds like it could be very interesting. We have to try it!”

===

Cheerilee hadn’t really known Carrot Top that well. She knew that the mare did a little baking – sometimes she’d sell carrot cakes in the market, instead of just raw carrots – but her kitchen was well-appointed and well used. Also pretty cluttered, and it didn’t look like she was good at keeping up with her dishes, which was something that had always annoyed Cheerilee when she’d lived with a roommate. But she had space on the countertop for a cutting board, at least, and some clean knives, so they were good to go.

“Give me your hoof,” Carrot Top asked, after chopping up some tarragon and parsley.

Cheerilee held it out, although she gave a little frown. “I thought I was going to be eating you?”

Carrot Top spread the crushed herbs on her frog, then licked it clean. “I want to make sure I taste good. I don’t know what goes with pony.” She made a face. “Not tarragon.”

“That’s an herb griffons use for fish, isn’t it?” Cheerilee asked, as Carrot Top diced some other herbs, and crushed a clove of garlic.

She nodded. “Pegasi too, sometimes. Okay, let’s try garlic and oregano.”

Cheerilee tried not to squirm as Carrot Top’s tongue washed over the sensitive part of her hoof. She seemed to lick at it a bit longer, this time. “Does it taste good?” she asked.

Carrot Top nodded. “Yeah. Kind of like a more savory spaghetti sauce. I have a few tomatoes…”

Cheerilee looked over at the small pile Carrot Top had glanced towards. There were three. “It would take a lot of sauce to cover a pony,” she said. “Maybe we should stick with the rubdown?”

“Yeah, okay,” Carrot Top said, fetching the rest of her garlic and oregano, and a few other herbs that usually went well with them. “It would take too long to cook up the sauce anyway. I’m sure you have places to be.”

“There’s no rush,” Cheerilee said. “But I do have a few more things I wanted to do today, and that’s in addition to finding other ponies to eat, later.” There was enough room on the countertop for a second cutting board, after she pushed a few more dirty dishes into the sink, so she sidled up next to Carrot Top and started helping to prepare the ingredients.

Once they were all squished together into a fragrant pale green mass, Carrot Top scraped them into a bowl and hoofed them over to Cheerilee, then looked around the kitchen in dismay. “Wow, I really let this place go.”

“And you’ll never have to clean it,” Cheerilee said, with a grin.

“You’re right,” Carrot Top said. “None of this stuff matters.” With a sweep of her hooves, she cleared the table by simply shoving everything off of it, onto the floor. Dishes shattered, silverware clattered, and a half-eaten pasta salad splattered on the wall, but she just laughed. The table was still a bit messy, so she wet down a towel and gave it a quick wash, then tossed the towel on top of the pile. “Ha!”

She clambered up onto the table, and stretched out on her stomach, spreading herself across the surface with her front and rear hooves dangling off either end. “Okay, I’m ready.”

Cheerilee scooped some of the crushed herbs up in her hooves, and started to rub them into Carrot Top’s back, starting at her shoulders. “That was what this was all about, wasn’t it?” she asked. “You just wanted a free back rub.”

“Free? I think I’m paying enough for it,” Carrot Top replied, lying her head down on the table and letting out a sigh. “I expect a front-rub, too. And a hoof massage.”

“And a facial mask?” Cheerilee asked, rubbing down the sides of Carrot Top’s chest, making sure to work the flavoring into her coat.

Carrot Top snorted. “Yeah, and make sure to get it all in my mane and tail. Fluffy hair like mine should hold a lot of flavor.”

Cheerilee took her time, working her way down Carrot Top’s body slowly, as if she was a lover instead of a meal. She ran her hooves through the curly tail hair a few dozen times, from the base to the tip, tugging on it firmly, then got to work on her mane, massaging it into her scalp and making sure to get some on both the outside and inside of her ears. She went easy on the face, smudging a line underneath either eye and across her forehead, then rubbing it properly into her cheeks and chin.

Then Carrot Top rolled over, and held out a forehoof. Cheerilee rubbed a bit of the mixture on her hoof, and licked it clean, slowly, returning the favor. “Oh, that does taste good,” she said, but forced herself to stop and apply the herbs to the rest of the limb.

After massaging the herbs into all four limbs, and her neck, and rubbing them all down her chest and belly, Cheerilee paused, with her hoof over Carrot Top’s sensitive bits, and gave her a glance.

“Go ahead,” she said. “Might as well. It’ll be in your mouth soon enough.”

Cheerilee gave a pained look, and gently rubbed the last remaining bits with her hoof, lingering over them for a few seconds and trying to ignore the sensations. “Okay,” she said at last. “I think you’re ready.”

Carrot Top sighed, and wriggled around on the table with her legs folded in, her fur all matted and slick. “So how does this work?” she asked. “I’m a lot bigger than a foal.”

Cheerilee took hold of her rear hooves, and pulled them back, stretching her legs out behind her. “Just relax,” she said. “I’ll do all the work.”

The she licked the mare’s hooves again, and took them into her mouth, her lips and jaw stretching around them easily. She let out an audible moan at the taste, and drool puddled underneath her tongue. With the herbs and spices, Carrot Top was delicious.

She was also watching every second of it, her head folded down to watch as her legs vanished into Cheerilee’s mouth. “That’s so creepy-looking,” she said, as the distended purple muzzle worked its way up to her thighs. Cheerilee rolled her eyes, unable to talk around the hooves in her throat. “It’s not scary, though,” she added. “When you first asked, I was nervous. I was afraid you’d convince me, and eat me, and then I’d be gone.” She laughed, flipping her tail up to brush it over Cheerilee’s nose, filling her muzzle with more of the scent of garlic and herbs. “And then you convinced me, and as soon as I agreed, I felt so relieved. I guess I made the right choice. I think about being inside you, about melting away into nothing, and for some reason I just feel. Um. Aroused.” The lips were up to her hips, now, and she curled her tail up against her belly, covering herself and blushing. “Do you think you could… oh, I can’t ask.” She tittered nervously.

“Mmm?” Cheerilee asked, trying to look inquisitive. It was hard to tell if she’d succeeded, with her head all stretched out of shape. Her facial muscles felt so tight, but she thought she might have gotten some movement out of them.

“Could you… use your teeth?” Carrot Top squeaked out, covering her face with her forehooves. “Ponies chew their food.”

Cheerilee made an attempt at some chewing motions. Like her face, her jaw and lips were stretched out beyond belief. It did something, although ‘chewing’ wasn’t quite accurate. It felt like her teeth were bending. But Carrot Top seemed satisfied, or at least gave an endearing little giggle.

As Cheerilee’s lips and teeth slipped up over Carrot Top’s hips, the fuzzy tail brushed against her nose for a second before slipping inside her mouth, straightened out and leaving the belly exposed. “No need to be modest anymore,” Carrot Top said.

Cheerilee’s tongue worked at the hollow at the base of her tail, where a little extra flavor had gathered, and she kept working her jaw, nibbling her way up the belly, feeling it squish softly as it was squeezed into her mouth, softer than the wide, well-muscled hips currently stretching out her throat. When she got to the ribs, Carrot Top reached down with her forelegs, and stroked Cheerilee’s cheeks and neck, feeling herself compressed inside.

“Thank you,” she said, as her forelegs were forced up and away, her shoulders finally reaching the lips. “Thank you for making it special,” she said, then gasped as Cheerilee started to gnaw on her throat. She gave out a long, satisfied moan as her head slipped out of sight, leaving only her forelegs sticking out.

Cheerilee sat up, and let gravity pull Carrot Top the rest of the way into her belly in one long, slow slide, slurping the last two hooves to get one last taste of the flavor before they were gone.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Cheerilee said, when she could talk again, and spent a while stroking her stomach as she sat in the kitchen, bloated with the pony curled up in her belly. “I’d feel so guilty if I ate someone and they didn’t enjoy it.”

“Mmm,” Carrot Top mumbled. “Can’t talk. Food doesn’t talk.”

Cheerilee sat there with her for a bit, until the aftertaste from the seasoning started to get a bit overwhelming. She stood up and wobbled across the kitchen, opening the fridge to see if there was anything to drink. “Of course,” she said, staring at the contents. “Carrot juice.” Not her favorite, but it would do the trick.