DO NOT READ THIS STORY I WAS ON DRUGS WHEN I WROTE IT
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DO NOT READ THIS STORY I WAS ON DRUGS WHEN I WROTE IT
“Wake up, ol’ bean,” a classy voice spoke out in Derpy’s bedroom as she slumbered. “Wake up.” The sleeping mare mumbled to herself, turning onto her side still snoozing away. “Oh for the love of—” the voice groaned. “Fine, you leave me no choice!”
A loud noise similar to a fart from a diamond dog having herpes quickly filled the room. The pegasus was somehow oblivious to the noise, merely turning to her other side still mumbling incoherently. She was also oblivious to the stench of old semen and crotch rot.
Using his innate knowledge of Derpy’s life, the owner of the voice had an idea and whispered, ”Muffins.”
“Muffins…?” Derpy moaned, her eyes finally fluttering open as she came to the realm of the waking.
“Oh good, you’re awake. Allow me to introduce myself,” the voice began.
The pegasus jumped out of the bed, wings spread to full mast as if she were going to fly away from... whatever was speaking. She glanced around hastily, eyes wide in panic. “Who’s there?!” she cried, ignorant still to the stench uglier than the atrocities of the Soviet Union.
“I am Sir Queefington the Fourth!” the voice cried, sounding like it came from both everywhere and nowhere all at once. A godly voice, much like the one that spoke to John of Patmos in the Book of Revelation.
“Where are you?!” the pegasus cried, now quaking in fright. Her ears fell flat on her skull, and her wings fluttered once or twice.
Clearing his throat, Queefington spoke once again, “Take a look below, m’lady.”
“Below where?!” the confused and panicking pegasus exclaimed, turning to the bed she lept from moments ago; a bed of horror, where many a virginity had met their end. The bane of Ponyville’s sexual health clinic. Had this Queefington been under there, perhaps?
“Allow me to show you then,” said Queefington, taking in a deep breath. From below the mare, a thunderous, wet, disgusting, slimy, hepatitis-filled fart erupted. The noise practically shook the mare to her very core and made her wet, more so than her own panic. She craned her head and glanced at her tail, noticing an odd curled protrusion coming up from her rear end.
Derpy frowned, shifting her fat legs so she could plop her rear end on the filthy wooden floor. “Am I dreaming?” she questioned towards nothing in particular.
“No, m’lady, I am quite real,” Queefington replied while Derpy’s tail moved off on its own accord and, against all logic, gripped something. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, though,” he added, pulling a fedora seemingly out of nowhere and tipped it like a gentlecolt bowing down to the most beautiful mare he ever laid eyes upon. Which either marked him as blind or desperate, if he even was present at all.
Awkwardly, the pegasus lifted a rear leg and looked towards her disease-ridden, itching, pus-filled pussy and, by Celestia’s sunburned asscheeks, it was the most unusual thing she had ever seen in her life. Blond pubic hair, matching the color of her dirty blond mane, curled around her lips like a thick and bristly mustache. A monocle rested in front of her stinky clit, linked to the base of her tail by a thin chain of gold. The swag was about to max out the swagness, and the swagness was 2much7u.
“How did... why…” Derpy stammered, searching for words which eluded her understandably baffled mind.
“Well, it began when you had sex with, who was that snake fellow?” asked Queefington, his glorious mustache shaking side to side, tickling her flabby thighs as he spoke.
“You mean the actual cobra I unbirthed?” Derpy wondered out loud, a half-frown on her face.
“If I must explain it further to you, then so be it,” Queefington said, stroking his ‘stauche using Derpy’s tail-locks. “You see, that snake you unbirthed died, the skeleton is resting in your womb as we speak, decayed by the dark forces within. I am the ghost of that very cobra, granted life by Discord’s demon semen and given powers by your various sexual diseases, you whorse.”
The pegasus gasped and began shaking once more, her eyes wide as dinner plates at that point. She moved her jaw in a vain attempt to form even the simplest of words, but alas, they eluded her equally-diseased vocal chords like they should have. None had patience for the empty words of a whorse, after all—not even the bloody, dirty walls which surrounded her in the room she currently sat at an awkward position.
“Now, if you would kindly find that Discord fellow for me, I would be most eternally grateful and rid you of your diseases. Especially your prostate cancer.” How was a mare able to even get prostate cancer? That was well beyond Canterlot’s greatest Illuminati mystics, but lo and behold, Derpy had it. Despite having no male genitals whatsoever. That grey-pelted, cross-eyed whorse.
Derpy couldn’t believe the situation. Such events only happened in the back pages of the least truthful tabloids and newspaper propaganda articles. They were mere headline fodder for the magazines sold at checkouts that have such lurid titles as “I snogged my dog” and “Help, Mum’s on fire!”
“I’m waiting, bring me to him this instant!” he demanded, letting off a little queef as he did.
The mare stood up again, one eye rotating in its socket clockwise and the other spinning in the opposite direction. Had her hooch been truly bewitched by the god of chaos, or was this all some really crazy dream procured by a mental patient in a horrid sanitarium? Was Derpy contained within the depths of Arkham Asylum? Or within the cold tiled cells of Bedlam? For fuck’s sake, was she even in the mythical lands of Detrot? Reality had hooked her right in the gabber, she swore on her mother.
“Um, alright…” the pegasus reluctantly sighed at last, her eyes gleaming as if she were on the verge of tears. She turned to her bedroom door... or, rather, where such a door would normally be present in this hellhole of fuckery. She had sold the door for tampon money four years ago, you see. And that went as well as you’d expect, like the crackwhore incident.
She began to trot out of the room, moving into the dingy hallway whose walls that had mold and cockroaches running rampant on their withering frames. For now, her cursed living hooch had remained silent, which was actually a good thing given the circumstances. Anything more and she would probably hang herself with her own congealed pussy juice. On the couch lay the bleached skeleton of what used to be Dinky, who starved weeks ago during one of Derpy’s “Sell Dinky for Rent” sessions. She had to live off of cockroaches and landlord cum and drink the water the mold had let off if it was in a good mood. On Christmas she would get smegma.
The pegasus sighed upon passing the skeleton, feeling no remorse for her own foal. After all, she wasn’t very apt at surviving; only at dicksucking and nothing more, all the while the baffled pegasus was. There would be a time for mourning, but it wasn’t here nor there. Actually, she was never going to mourn for her.
There was only one pristine thing in the whole living room, if not the entire house. A painting hung on a wall, depicting the whorse of a pegasus being ass-ravaged by an obese human lad, one who dressed like a damn woman down to the sloppy make-up and toenail polish.
On the bottom of this lewd portrait lay three simple words, painted in dirtied white: “My human lover. <3"
The mare took one look at it and longed for the bent duck, but alas, that was never meant to be. The bastard succumbed to her vacuum of a crotch, as well as her many diseases and unbirthing process. It was then the thunderous wet noise resounded, once more shaking the pony to her tainted core.
“Old friend of yours? Do stop daydreaming, we must focus on the matters at hoof!” Queefington boomed in an irritated tone of voice, causing the pegasus to jump as if startled once more.
“Alright…” Derpy sighed, turning to trot out the door. She went outside, finding that the day was cloudy with cream pies raining from the skies above, as well as a side of edgy knives for slicing said pies.
The diseased mare with the bewitched bearded clam who, by all odds, should not be granted the ability to speak traversed into Ponyville. The inhabitants steered clear of her, mainly because of her various diseases and layers of filth. None cared for the raining pies and knives, since they all had special umbrellas with which to deflect the odd storm’s onslaught. Had this, too, been Discord’s dastardly doing?
The pegasus weaved around corners and alleys, passing by mares who were more fortunate than she along the way. The mares who had benefitted from simply not being this pegasus avoided her like the bubonic plague, and they pretty much had every reason to do so.
Eventually, she got to the town hall where a crowd had gathered. By pure luck, there was Discord himself, and he was just finished with fucking Fluttershy absolutely senseless. The butter yellow pegasus, drunk from chaos semen and awful booze, dropped onto her side weakly whilst coughing up the cheesy spaff pumped inside her by Discord’s holy wand of man juice.
The grey, dirty pegasus strode right up to the hodgepodge chimera on three legs and yanked his left wing with a hoof to get his attention. “Um, Discord, could you help me please?” she asked.
The draconequus turned to her, arching a brow and letting a small frown graze his muzzle. “Why should I?” he asked flatly. “I already had a go with you last night, and frankly, I’d rather not have a second round.”
“But it’s urgent—” the diseased mare pleaded, only for another booming wet queef to cut her off mid-sentence as Queefington spoke up.
“Release me from this wench’s foul clutches!” the talking, diseased mass shrieked.
Discord could not help but laugh, as if returning to his wicked ways of bribery and mild violence. “And who might you be?” he questioned with a sick grin now adorning his face.
“I am Sir Queefington the Fourth! I have been summoned from the dead and reincarnated as this whore’s vagina by your demonic semen! I very much wish to be released from this foul and forsaken genital hell,” the diseased fuck tunnel replied in a demanding tone of voice.
“Please, help me!” Derpy pleaded with the chimera before her, tears welling up in her eyes.
“Topkek, young slut,” Discord laughed. “While I am loathe to even touch your warty, pustule-filled penis trap, I realise that hilarity might be found here.”
Derpy sobbed and turned around while lifting her tail. WIth no money to pay him with, she was going to pay him just like she paid her electrician, plumber, college professor, ice cream pony, cashier, landlord, bus driver, taxi driver, the taxi driver’s best friend, and pretty much everypony without self-respect. Which would be with diseased, unclean, and unprotected sex. Using a talking, cursed axe wound with a monocle, mustache, and classy accent to boot.
As if things weren’t already horrid and strange enough.
The sky turned dark and lightning streaked across the sky, and the pies and knives stopped raining altogether. Thunder clapped next, shaking the town to its foundations and causing the pegasus to jump and cringe as another brilliant bolt rended the dark clouds asunder for but a single moment.
Discord smirked and stuck his tongue out. “My, my Derpy, why are you afraid?” In the shadows above, slimy tentacles breached through the air. Derpy was horrified by the ominous omen of the slimy appendages. But deep inside, she was quite aroused of being molested by the thick and large tentacles. One of her fetishes would be sticking things up her vagina. Yeah. That.
But Derpy wasn’t in the mood. Kind of. Sliding on her butt, Derpy’s head hit a wall behind her, leaving a spray of blood from the back of her now-shattered skull. Her pussy dragged on the floor, leaving an erotic puddle of more blood as flakes and sheets of labia skin were flayed by the rough wooden boards. Blood pissed out of the wounds onto the floor and Derpy’s pussy was splintered with the shrapnel from the floorboards. Discord smirked a smile and stroked his massive erect penis. “ Don’t be afraid, Derpy. It’ll all end soon.”
“Do keep those away from me, sir, I need to speak. Release my soul, if you would kindly,” Queefington said with a bit of sass. But Discord wanted that sweet juicy pony ass, and nothing would keep him from it. One of the tentacles above grabbed Derpy by the hooves. The tight purple tentacles sent a shiver down her spine. For some reason, probably her massive head injury or her slutty nature, she liked it. But she knew where this was going.
“Wait! Stop! I’ve watched enough hentai to know where this is going!!” she pleaded, staring at a much larger tentacle creeping towards her wet, exposed, mustachioed marehood. She winced and looked away, waiting for the incoming penetration of the tentacle, but her imagination was that it was a 40-inch horsecock. But instead, the tentacle expertly picked each wooden piece out, causing some pus to ooze from the infected wounds.
Discord gave a small smile. “I don’t want to hurt you as much.” His dick was quite hard. He also wanted to stick it in a warm wet hole in which he can cum buckets inside of, and inflate her fetid love canal with his testicle goop (if you couldn’t tell already).
Once all of the wooden splinters had been plucked out, the tentacle plunged itself tip-first into the abyss that was Derpy’s version of a disease-ridden vise. Going in deeper and deeper, it penetrated the cervix, and the pegasus felt an odd, tingling sensation wriggling about in her womb. It was as if the tentacle was coiling around itself, over and over, until it filled her babymaker up in a tightly-packed ball.
It was then the tentacle was yanked out violently, causing the hapless whorse to cry out as pain surged through her body from between her flabby rear legs, the feeling of being stretched to the point of splitting in two sending her mind into a convoluted frenzy of fear. Strangely (and the pegasus had yet to realize this, given how pained and panicked she was), once the tentacle had pulled out, she felt clean. Pure. Untouched.
Virgin, even.
This, however, quickly changed as a new pain took hold of her vaginal tube once again, the feeling of something grossly enlarged, barbed, and thicker than the rest of its body in three separate places plunged itself deep within her marehood. This merely accompanied and accentuated the agony. Derpy also felt a furred claw and a bird talon take hold of her cheeks.
She tried to speak, to cry out, but words merely died in her throat as Discord ravaged her at a speed comparable to Rainbow Dash performing a sonic rainboom. Yet something caught her eyes, causing them to widen a considerable margin as the barbed dick of doom was thrust in and out at a breakneck rate.
A light grey-purple filly with a blond mane and a horn was approaching her, her lower body like that of a cobra. Her eyes were glowing gold, and her mouth had opened to such a disproportionate size it looked like she could have eaten half of the spirit of disharmony without so much as a hitch. And that was if he were willing.
Within moments, Discord howled as he emptied his liquid plunderseeds into the womb of the pegasus and slid her off his now-limp member, almost throwing her on to the ground in disappointment. “Well, I held my end of the deal; ta-ta, now,” he said before flying off just as the snake-foal’s lower half began to coil around the used whorse’s body. The scaly grip tightened, and Derpy felt the air get forced out of her lungs, her legs and wings and chest feeling as if under the weight of a steamroller.
The last thing she ever saw as the light left her eyes was that gargantuan mouth approaching her head.
