Fallout: Equestria - Red, White and Blue

Two hours ago, I'd rubbed myself with puncher fruit flowers. And then I stocked them in my pack for later use. A scent, above all other biological perceptions, was the most powerful impression in any circumstance. I was fearful the swamp might ruin my smell and charm, if they happened to be of any mention. It was hard to take that my hooves were always dirty. That they were always soiled and always caked in something, be it blood or dirt or bog slush, it haunted me. So I smelled roses on the path before me, it set by my pipbuck when I set my destination. That device, in all it's strange wonder, was the perfect companion on low travel.

It might've been frowned upon, but I was headed for Caviar Mansion. I had to check on her. Because that was right. And that was my desire. I trusted her but not with violence or any confrontation in general. If I seemed imposing the day we met, what would some wasteland miscreant look like. What would they do. I tread heavily and sped home, passing several locations along the way. I found a simple merchant home named 'Scaley's Hardware', amongst other things, not a soul to stir the peace.

There was a cave not far from that very establishment, but I skipped exploration to avoid unnecessary conflict. Tequila was waiting for me. We were both heartsick. I knew it in the pressure about my chest, straining my normally insensate heart muscle. The bog was colder than usual that arid evening. It felt off in a way, from the creak of unstable tree husks to the unmistakable gaze of Caviar Mansion beckoning an ominous reunion. We were all children in her eyes. Celestia had plans for all of us, I recited, tense in my gut.

Before I set hoof anywhere near Caviar Mansion, my legs took to shaking. They were all brittled by an unexpected apprehension. I felt uneasy going in. I approached the double doors of Caviar Mansion and pushed the entry plate slowly. It gave an innocent click and let me in, unlocked like it should've been.

I stepped in expecting the worst. There was no doubt a lingering dread festered deep inside, filling me with pseudo-memories and half-theories on Tequila's fate. The horror I found stepping into the kitchen stopped my heart. The table was a mess of jossled clutter and destruction. Plates were smashed about in shards and messy piles. And in the center of our table was a perfect clearing for one equine body on it's back. She was there, naked and crying in one corner of it. To the far right of the stoves, she curled up and sat against the corner, shadowed and kissed with shivers down every part of her. I raced over and met her. I heard her sob. I heard her cry. She held me far from the crime scene and wished me ignorant of it.

"Whitestar... Whitestar... I-I couldn't shoot them. I couldn't hurt them- I...." Tequila sobbed, gritting her teeth against me.

"They were too st-strong- please don't hate me- I can't be alone- I can't hurt anyone-!" She screamed, jumping and siezing with bone-breaking spasms.

I held her close and shed a tear for her. There was anger. But I'd save it for the othere. For the Sodomites and their wicked hearts. I wanted to see them first. So I could wipe the fire from me. So she could see me shine, not kindle. I held firmly and pressed my pelvis into her. I heard her gasp and cling tighter. I felt her legs wrap around me.

"You didn't fight back?" I hushed, nipping her neck.

"N-no- I can't- I can't hurt anyone-" She trembled, quivering against me.

"You knew they'd be hurting you. You got raped, didn't you. You were touched and taken."

I licked her cheeks in warm, circling swiped and felt her tense. I found it horrid. I found it wrong. But she was stolen from me. And I was there, to lick her wounds and keep her dry. We swapped spit and licked our mouths thick with drool. I trailed our tongues with saliva and broke away to breathe.

"You have to hurt them. You have to tell them no. People like that only take advantage of ponies that can't fight back- fight back- don't let them step on you because if you do, you'll be an easy target. Lock yourself in a room. Shoot around them. Anything. Don't be weak. Don't let them use you unless that's what you want-"

I ended it by pushing my hips up. She groaned and licked my lips. I rubbed and rubbed till both my pricks were out. She went wide-eyed with how distended I was. Tequila bit her lip and whispered 'I'm scared. What if it hurts.' And I hooked my hooves around her hips

"It won't." I hushed, poking in with only my crown.

It pushed her lips in and I licked away at her with precum. I drooled in four places, three between my legs and out my mouth. I lapped her cheeks away in feral flicks and swathes. Tequila wrapped around my back and barely touched her hooves together. I thrust patiently. Her body drooled and drooled till half of me packed inside her. It felt good to squish inside her, stuffing her red and sweaty.

"Wh-whitestar- fuck- I... I can't talk-" She squeaked, trembling and bucking.

I asked what was wrong and felt my brows dip. My angel held me close and I felt her squeeze down there. I saw her strain and grunt with how tight she must've felt. How hard it must've been to ignore how she felt. We were still missing. But we were happy.

I stung her insides with slow, hard claps. The claps struck my ring and kept her grunting in pain and pleasure. She was melting. I felt it, in how she squealed, how every ounce of girldew splashed around me. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. They raped her, didn't they. They took her first.

"You didn't like it, did you?" I cursed, flipping her over and fucking from behind.

"N-no, I didn't- I-I swear-!" She panicked, trembling against the wall.

Tequila bit her lip. I bit mine, too. I bit her shoulder and leaned against her. I rocked her forward by pounding into her. She could feel me throbbing, because I reached the bottom and left it in. I pulled her down by the hips. It felt natural. I pelted her thick, jiggling waist and locked her still. Tequila arched her back, screaming. I didn't know why. I loved the sound, though. It was harps and wind against me.

"Yes-! Yes-! I-I did-! I liked it!" She shrieked, siezing hard and twitching everywhere.

I held her down and creamed her button. Tequila groaned and squeaked shortly everytime I bucked her forward. I flooded her narrows and rubbed it in just to feel her. I loved her shivers and hard, grating moans. I bit her shoulder and clamped down, emptying myself one pump at a time. She finished whenever I did. My milk made her tender and left her sloppy against the wall. My flared, heavy hips thumped against her and I spoke through lust.

"You better fight next time... You have to stand up for yourself when someone's out to hurt you. Even Celestia knows a mare needs to look after herself. If you don't, those Roamings might force someone else. And then someone else will have to hurt just like you. The pain of being- nnnh- forced never goes away."

I heard her half-sob, but for an esoteric reason. She finished one more time and held me in. I couldn't break away or deny my body lease. We were both frustrated and shaken up inside. We were both dealing with revelations. I held her down again and fed her cervix. I heard a warm, sickening crunch as I filled her girlpocket. We fell forward and I instantly regretted everything.

Especially forgetting a condom.

We spent the next day gently rutting our brains out. I didn't have to do much. She was supremely sensitive. I had no doubt anypony else would take her the Roaming way and make her a slave to their dominance. That was something I couldn't do. It was not my nature to control the disadvantaged. It was my nature to keep natural order.

I learned that recounting my urges to set the sheets right before sex or set her tail on just the right spot. I didn't enjoy tail bristles against my meat. Or, really, at all. And sometimes she'd awkwardly pose for me during her facials but I tended toward natural beauty. If she had too much makeup on or an uncharacteristically clean or dirt-caked coat, I could scarcely ignore it.

It was two days and three hours before I quelled the heat between us.

I took her for three hours straight till she fell asleep on me and begged me to stop, as it was starting to injure and tear her. So I prayed her soul to keep and lay her down to sleep, brushing lips with my blessed sheep. I watched her doze and slip away, only to work in bed arranging business transactions with The Dreamers.

The Sacred Bog was still an eight hour's jog away. So I stayed in bed and listened to Point Looking Radio. It was low and steady with many static crackles. The audio was horrid, but, something soothed me in how the host bantered and raved to his theoretical audience. His voice was low and grainy, rumbling in my chest.

"Hello everypony and this here station is Point Lookin Radio. You ever seen a brothel before, folks. No, better yet, have y'all ever seen a city of brothels before? Because that ain't no pipe dream I'm talkin' bout. This here's the real deal in Point Lookin. You know that place called Scaley's Hardware? That's right, you low-down dogs, that's where Boredom is...!"

I lit a cigarette to calm my body.

"You lookin' for love in all the wrong places? Lookin for someone to get drunk with, bust up for an hour and leave at home to brag to your friends about? Well, if you are, I don't know why, but Boredom's got ya covered, kiddos. A self-respecting, hard-working colt like me would never even think about that ugly truth, but hey, I know you would."

A city... of sin. Point Lookin was home to Sodom. It felt dirty, to be honest, to think about it, to ponder it's disgusting expanse. Someponies were there by choice. And that idea alone flipped my stomach ten times over. I couldn't fathom anyone being so hungry for empty one-sided sex highs... For mindless, primitive sex and money, they'd spend a night with anyone and do anything they wanted.

No love.

No intimacy.

I stared off into oblivion, frozen in the abstract horror that loomed over me.