Scootaloo is secretly a highly evolved parasprite
Scootaloo’s playground visit had been especially intense today. Her and the other crusaders had an especially long list of activities to try to coax a cutie mark out of them, with their usual success rate, but she still appreciated spending as much time with her friends as she could. Too bad there couldn’t be more hours in the day, or at least more before Applebloom and Sweetie Belle had somewhere to be.
She stopped at the the water fountain and thought about what else she could do today while she drank, not noticing how quiet it had gotten. It was late in the afternoon so the playground was almost empty, but something else had cleared out as well. No birds sang, and nature stood still around Scootaloo, as if she was in a bubble of stillness. Only the sounds of her drinking were in the air. Until something something loud and metallic rang out, making Scootaloo choke in surprise.
Scootaloo coughed and gasped for her breath back, then huffed in annoyance. If anyone had seen a loud noise startle her so badly she’d have been harassed about it for days at school, and she didn’t need anything to be teased about. She growled when she regained her composure, and glared at the direction of the noise before heading behind the school after it.
Behind the School building, something important was out of place. Nothing obvious had fallen or broken, and no pony or creatures were around to have been responsible for the racket, but something still wasn’t as it should be. The bulletin board was still up, crayon drawings safely in place. The hitching post for foals’ things was there too, empty as it ever-
“Hey!” Scootaloo yelled angrily when she noticed her scooter was missing, running over to where she knew she had locked it to the post.
Her lock was broken on the ground, or at least some of it was. The face of the padlock was clean in half, with the internal mechanisms spilled out behind it. It didn’t quite look cut though, crumbs of the metal and plastic were scattered about in the grass and the break looked uneven and serrated. She prodded the shattered remains with a hoof, and recoiled when the remains transferred some kind of green fluid to her hoof. She made a disgusted noise before trying to wipe it off of on the grass.
After Scootaloo was over her disgust, her anger returned in full force. No pony touches that scooter but her without her permission, and busting her lock definitely isn’t asking nicely. Her eyes scoured her surroundings for whoever did this as she circled in place, but she yelled in frustration at the nothing she spotted.
“Give it back!” She screamed skyward, rearing up at nothing. Childish frustration made her voice high and squeaky.
“Make me,” replied a mare’s voice from somewhere very close, sounding snide and taunting.
Scootaloo gasped again, startled a second time today, then turned to face whoever thought they could mess with her.
“If you think you can, little girl,” continued the full-sized mare, only a few feet away from Scootaloo, as if she appeared from nothing. She was white, and with a frosty blue mane that faded into a light violet that covered her left eye. The mare’s green right eye glared at her harshly. She leaned on a familiar scooter that was definitely too small for her
Scootaloo had been expecting a filly or a colt from her class, not a grown-up, but she couldn’t care less. She wanted her scooter back and wasn’t going to let a bully take it from her, no matter how much bigger than her they were.
“Fine, I will!” Scootaloo yelled back, digging her hoof into the grass, kicking up dirt as she prepared to charge her antagonist.
The mare’s one visible eyebrow raised as she watched the tiny pegasus threaten her, and she gave an unexpected chuckle. She wore a smile that even any easy schoolyard target target like Scootaloo would recognize, this mare was clearly looking for trouble and had found a target. The set of long fangs poking out of the mare’s predatory grin were impossible to miss.
“What are you gonna do exactly? Flutter your little chicken wings at me?” she mocks while leaning down to the filly’s level. The mare leaned her weight onto the scooter, resting a foreleg on it and making the wood squeak, making Scootaloo hate her more.
Scootaloo glares at her, growling. Her wings unfold reflexively from the tension of the situation. She was far too stubborn to lose something this important. Especially not to taunts she’s heard enough of from Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. Scootaloo took a quick glance over the mare, looking for anything and everything she could use as a retort.
“I’m going to keep you from getting your dumb snaggly toothed face all over my scooter!” Scootaloo yells at her, stamping her hooves down into the grass. Her voice cracks as her temper rises, keeping any amount of common sense from influencing her at this point.
“You little sh-” The mare started with a leer, bearing her teeth animalistically and giving Scootaloo a clearer view of her distinctly un-pony-like teeth
Scootaloo grinned with the unique maliciousness of a school-filly having found something vulnerable to her attacks.
“And you must have a pretty dumb face if you have to pick on fillies when you’re a big mare. Too dumb to know your butt’s too fat for that scooter anyway.” Scootaloo shot, without the slightest hesitation, smiling at the angry mare with spiteful satisfaction.
The pair glared at each other for a fleeting, silent moment. The tension between the two of them was almost tangible as they stood still, locked in a silent and mutual animosity before the pissed mare retorted.
“Oh, fuck you, kid,” She spat in a vicious tone, before sitting down and lifting the abducted scooter up over her head by the bar. “Fuck your scooter, too.”
“That’s mine!” Scootaloo protested. She rushed at the bigger pony, only to charge straight into a quickly extended hoof and bounce backwards.
Scootaloo’s senses were jarred by the accidental impact. She growled and shook her head to clear it before trying again to tackle the spiteful mare again, only to be held back just as easily as before. With the mare’s hoof planted on her chest, Scootaloo could only hop in place in a vain attempt to gain ground on a much bigger and stronger pony.
“Yeah, too damn bad,” said the bigger mare, coldly, as she effortlessly held back the filly with one hoof. “Fuck your scooter.”
The mare tilted her head back and lifted the scooter up over her head, the blue wooden base swinging down with gravity. She struggled to hold on to the thin metal rod with a hoof before she bit down onto the wood, the dull crunch of wood filling the air as her teeth crashed through the wood.
"What the hay, stop!" Scootaloo yelled in protest, struggling against the hoof the restrained her without any success. “You’re gonna break it!”
The toothy mare didn’t hesitate as she snatched the scooter deeper into her mouth, harsh cracks ringing out as she bit farther down the wood. Her cheeks and throat bulged as the the wheels and axles sunk down into her without issue. She had it swallowed down to the rod before Scootaloo could even notice with the forehoof shoved against her face.
The swallowing mare gave the filly a shove, making the smaller and lighter pegasus pony skid back on her hooves with a grunt. The filly didn’t hesitate to charge back in without bothering to insult the bully more. She only managing to be caught again by her other hoof and be held helplessly at bay once again.
When she tried to turn the scooter in her throat, she hit a snag. The 90 degree angle made swallowing it hard as the wheels and board twisted and pressed directly against the wall of her gut, pushing it outward at a weird and sharp angle. She brought up her foreleg to the edge of the board and pushed it in manually. Her throat was having some difficulties, and she silently questioned how well this was thought through.
Scootaloo actually thinks for a second, and finally thinks to just slap the hoof off her forehead with an angry huff. Her expression quickly changed from pouting angry to panic when she was finally allowed to see exactly what was happening. Only the back foot or so of her scooter’s board was still outside of the mean mare, and the outline of handlebars in her distended stomach was distressingly detailed.
“What the hay!” Scootaloo yelled again stressing every syllable while wishing her school yard vocabulary had something stronger.
The filly lept at the mare again, but this time the strange and angry pony was too busy trying to swallow something as awkward as a scooter to hold the little pegasus at bay. With the noisy flutter of tiny wings, the pegasus hopped easily onto the shelf made in the mare’s belly by the handle bars. The mare made a bizarre wrenching noise in discomfort, and the filly’s body weight forced the scooter down her throat at a particularly uncomfortable angle.
“Give it back, you big, dumb bully!” Scootaloo demanded, with force most people would think impossible of such a young filly.
Scootaloo’s forehooves gripped at the handle as she felt herself lowering, watching the bar of her scooter slip farther down this mare’s muzzle. the filly re-braced her hind legs against the mare’s chest and tugged at the scooter’s handlebar to no avail, besides getting more wet and throaty noises from the very suprised mare as her insides were jostled by a scooter.
The angle of things meant that getting the scooter out of herself would be difficult, even if she wanted to and wasn’t being accosted by a child. The filly definitely wasn’t going to just yank it out of her, no matter how determined she was to snatch it back. The pressure the filly was putting on her chest was forcing the air out of the mares lungs. She needed to solve this before something embarrassing happened. She swallowed what remained, tearing it out of the filly’s hoofs and letting the scooter rest awkwardly in her stomach
Scootaloo gasped when the handle bars were ripped from her hooves and immediately knew what she had to do. She forced her hooves into the mare’s mouth and pried her jaws apart before forcing her forelegs down her throat, wincing at the gross, slick moisture of the mare’s tongue and throat. She adamantly refused to leave her scooter inside some freak that hangs out behind schools.
The mare had no idea what to do anymore as the filly pulled apart her jaws and started to climb inside. She was too stunned and confused to even consider resisting the filly, or helping her along. She sat there as she felt the filly shove herself head first into her open mouth. The vibrations of the filly’s grunts and struggling echoed through her throat, and her back legs kicks and fought to push herself forward.
Scootaloo worked diligently, dragging herself down the mares throat, forcing it to stretch around her as she worked her way down. She felt gross and damp, and the mare’s breath wasn’t what one would consider pleasant, but she refused to be deterred. She was getting her scooter back, no matter how weird and damp a throat she had to crawl down.
The mare watched as the orange rump worked closer to her muzzle, and cringed when scootaloo found what she wanted and yanked at the scooter, making it’s weird shape poke at her uncomfortably. The pull jerked the filly’s rear right into her mouth, as she pulled on the firmly anchored scooter. When the purple tail passed down her lips, she felt the weight of the filly drop into the empty space in her belly.
The mare opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it and looked straight ahead. trying to figure out how to feel about what just happened. Her stomach made a loud noise as it went to work, and the mare continued to sit there.
