Living with Twilight Sparkle is Weird

It's just one of those days for you. Again.

You often write letters to your friends when you're bored, it's a nice little personal touch that makes them feel special after all, but today it's a little difficult. Partially because your roommate, Twilight, won't stop sniffing the words as you write them, pressing her face against the barely dry ink at regular intervals. What's more, this isn't the first time. Not by a long shot.

"Uh...Twi?"

She breathes in deep and then exhales in orgasmic satisfaction.

"This is amazing paper."

"OK, sure."

"Mmmmmh, all written without magic too, oh yes, sweet literacy."

You cringe back, not liking her sexual tone. Maybe you'll write another day, this is getting a little too intense for you again, and you're not willing to put up with any more weirdness from this pony than you absolutely have to. You start to pack up your pen and envelopes but Twilight's hoof swiftly comes up to hold your hand down. You look down and see her staring intensely up at you. A lustful passion burns in her eyes. She licks her lips.

"...uh"

"Anon," she says, beckoning to you.

You lean towards her, but she just continues to beckon to you nearer. You lean down. She motions you closer. Now, you're so close that her lips are almost touching your ear. You can feel how hot and feverish her breath is.

"Anon..." she hisses, her voice dripping with desire. "...papers."

"What?"

"Please."

Oh god...not this...

"Papers please."

"God damn it Twilight, not again!"

She abruptly begins masturbating furiously, shoving your good pen far into her anus. She moans like a whore.

"Ahn, Papers Please!"

"For fuck's sake you psycho!"

"Glory to Arstotzka, mn, god yes!"

She rubs your stationary pad on her chest and crotch, and you watch in horror as her orgasm juices drench all the letters you were writing to your friends, completely ruining them. She groans and sighs, then collapses, bits of paper sticking to different parts of her matted purple fur. She sighs contentedly.

You suddenly have the urge to never write letters to anyone again.

This is what you get for rooming with someone into ink kink.

-End-