The Rise of Demon King Spike

“Long ago in the magical land of Equestria...” Berry Punch tipped her glass, watching the ice cubes shift. She lifted the glass to her lips and let the last residual of alcohol flavoured ice water flow down her throat. It was time.

“All the little ponies lived in harmony with each other.” The plum coloured earth pony made her way to the bar. Some amount of pushing and shoving was required to get past the throng of young ponies thickly layered around the bar. The blasted kids seem to get younger every year.

“Watch it, bar nag!” responded a mouthy filly as she stumbled out of the way.

The first time a pony had called her that it had ended in a serious fight outside of the bar. Berry was proud of having given just as good as she had gotten.

“A drink!” she shouted over the crowd as she clapped the empty glass onto the bar. The kids got louder every year to.

“I think you've had enough!” shouted back the bar pony as he filled a row of beer mugs.

“One more and maybe I agree with you!”

Wine cooler in hoof the earth pony once again pushed through the storm of loud and energetic youths. She reached an impasse against the crowd and digging her shod hooves into the wooden planks of the floor she muscled her way forwards.

“Will you watch where you're- oh it's just the bar nag.”

She had her drink, her last drink of the night. It was a precious drink and she couldn't risk spilling it. That meant she couldn't thrash that colt.

She made her way back to her empty table in the corner and sat down next to the dragon with the fruity looking drink with an umbrella in it.

“Under the rule of Princess Celestia, the end.” Cradling the glass in her hooves she gave it a friendly introductory sip.

“Hi.”

Better acquainted now she took a savoring swallow, enjoying the burning on her tongue. This really made it all worthwhile.

“I don't really know how this is supposed to work, but it's the only lead Rainbow would give me...”

The warmth spread through her chest and she quietly meditated one the sensation in the bar packed to the rafters with celebrating youth. Youths celebrating their own youth in lieu of anything better. A quick glance confirmed that atleast two pegasi had retreated to the rafters to escape the crowd.

Lousy featherdusters. She wished that she could do the same.

“...I just wish I knew what to say or who I should talk to. How...”

She took another sip and she began to suspect she might be missing something. Like there was a detail just out of her notice that she was over looking.

“...does anyone talk in here? It's too loud to even hear anyone even if their sitting right next to you.”

“Woah! Isn't he a little young for you bar nag?” asked a surprised filly just before she had to duck a well aimed glass.

Things happened after that. She wasn't entirely clear what they were but when she hit the ground outside of the bar she had to give a snort to clear the blood out of her nostrils.

“Go home!” There was a thump on the ground next to her. “And take your dragon with you!”

She contemplated avenging her lost beverage before yielding to the inevitable. She draped her dragon over her back and on unsteady hooves exited stage left.

“Where are we going?”

“Home.” Berry kicked over a rock and fetched her front door key from under it in her lips. The taste of blood, dirt and alcohol blended on her tongue. It was a special kind of taste and one she was familiar with. It carried all kinds of associations with it.

“I don't want to go home.”

“Neither do I. But it's last call and I have no where else to go.” Twisting her head a sharp ninety degrees she unlocked the door and pressed her way inside.

Spike was oddly enraptured as he was carried past the living room. Ornaments, banners, trophies and photo's stood bold and proud upon the shelves overlooking an intimate cluster of couches and chairs. These were arrayed in turn around a central coffee table where an intricately engraved tea set sat. The thick layers of dust suggested that no mortal pony had entered the room in years.

In the kitchen Berry dropped her dragon off at the table and fetched herself a bottle off the counter and pulled the cork free with her teeth. A passionate draw on the vessel proved the contents to be satisfactory.

With a happy sigh she settled down at the table.

She frowned as she perhaps for the first time of the evening looked at Spike.

A moment later she had retrieved a pair of clean enough glasses from the sink full of dishes and placed them upon the table. These she filled from the bottle with a fluid both darker and thicker then blood.

She took another drink.

“I haven't made a bottle of this in years. I wonder if I still could?”

She trembled as she lifted the glass into the air. It's contents absorbed all light when held aloft appearing black and impenetrable.

“Bars were better then. They weren't stuffed with noisy, stupid kids.”

Thick liqueur caressed her tongue like a lover. Burning down her esophagus in a slow and unhurried manner.

“Who am I kidding? I was the louder, stupider and younger then the lot of them put together.”

She set down the empty glass and considered her dragon. His drink sat untouched. His eyes shone with curiosity and his attention was clearly upon her.

She supposed it was understandable. There were a finite number of possibilities a pony could expect after being brought home by the bar nag.

Very finite. Singular infact.

And here she was waxing on and feeling sorry for herself.

Well that would make sense for a pony atleast. So she had to ask.

“What does a dragon do?”

“What?” Spike flinched as though he had been slapped.

“Dragons they do things right? What is it that they do?”

The dragon looked away. “Dragons take things and they break anything they can't take.”

“Hmm, but is that what you are doing?”

“No.”

“So what do you do?”

Silence hung thick over the kitchen and Spike looked away.

Hadn't he taken everything that Cheerilee had to give? Had he not broken Dash? Wasn't he going to do the same here? What else was he here for?

Warm lips pressed into his, a thick tongue intruded into his mouth. He tried to pull back in alarm but a strong hoof wrapped around his kneck holding him firmly but not unkindly. He could taste liquor.

The kiss assured him of his welcome.

Spike kissed back, reaching out his claws to grip at the mare's coat. This was different. This was new. He could feel her desire and his own lifted in answer.

His achingly hard penises pressed prominently against the pony's chest.

Berry dragged the dragon off the chair, sitting down onto the linoleum floor. Her free hoof ran it's self along his rounded spines.

Without breaking the kiss and with much expertise the mare rolled back onto her back drawing Spike and his cocks forward pressing them against her hot moist muff.

Desperately, frantically the dragon grabbed his cocks and fed himself into her.

Panting and rabid with animal lust they fucked.

Dislocated and unattached thoughts, tried to form in Spike's brain as he pounded into the mare as hard as he could. He tried to compare this event with either of his previous encounters and found himself unable to do so.

This was something different. Something fantastic.

Berry gave a loud animalistic whiny as her vag spasmed tightly around the cocks before laying back, spent and content.

Shortly after Spike finished.

Panting for breath the dragon looked on at Berry, sprawled out on her back, her legs still splayed upwards, her drooling muff still on display. Her mane was scattered in every direction, she had a gentle smile and her chest rose and fell in sleep's tempo.

She looked... beautiful like that. Like some majestic and lewd angel descending on Celestia's celestial rays of light on a sacred mission to shove Rarity out of his heart's spotlight of adoration and replace the pale unicorn with just her own hot and wet plum coloured cunt.

He was actually debating whether or not to go again when she vomited.

After rolling the mare onto her side so she wouldn't drown in her own puke, Spike went to work cleaning up the mare and the floor around her. Then he fetched a blanket.

Then he washed up the glasses they had enjoyed together and then the dishes because they where there. Then the rest of the kitchen.

Then the living room. He dusted the shelves and wiped down the myriad trophies and awards, most of which had to do with distilling and brewing. He polished the glass of the photos. He moved onto the furniture and then onto the tea set at the center.

It was still filled with a hardened sludge at the bottom.

This to he cleaned to perfection and placed on the shelf where he could only guess that they went.