A Willing Sacrifice to the Goddess's butt!
“-and well, after that, I just couldn’t stay in Vanhoover, obviously.”
“Imagine not.”
“And so I kinda set up a dartboard, and pinned up a bunch of town names, and kinda… missed the dartboard. Bounced it off a thumbtack holding up a poster, a bookshelf, my doorknob, before landing in my trash can, where my parents had thrown the day’s newspaper-”
The ring of a doorbell interrupted the grey mare’s story, and she jumped off the couch with a yelp. “Oh! He’s here! That was fast, bet he’s eager, heh…” She loped quickly through the darkened living room, blinds closed and red sheets put over the gaps for today’s goings-on. What little light came into the room was dim and red, even at high noon outside, which set a romantic mood without needing to worry about candles. A well-built, one could even call him burly, stallion watched her go, his own fur just as red as the light playing across the burgundy carpet.
After nearly tripping over a table with a bunch of family photos, the grey mare reached the door, and pushed a mailmare’s bag to the side so she could open it up. It was only as she was opening the door she remembered she was wearing a set of dark blue garters and stockings, at noon.
Her guest at the door was a light brown-furred stallion of average height, and lighter-than-average build, especially for an Earth Pony. He was wearing a green jacket, and a rather beat-up old Bowler hat the same shade as his fur. His cutie mark was a Typewriter, his namesake. He smiled as he peered at the grey mare through a pair of round spectacles, and the barely-cracked-open door. “Hey, Derpy! We’re- we’re actually doing this! Right?”
“Yeah, but not outside! Get in here!” She grabbed him by his lapels and pulled him in, shutting the door behind him and securely locking in, as he dusted himself off. As soon as the second deadbolt clicked into place, she sighed in relief, before turning and wrapping the stallion in a hug. “Hey, Type. You… absolutely sure you wanna do this?”
Type Writer nuzzled Derpy, and returned the hug. “Yup! I’ve had this day marked on my calendar for weeks. You know that, you were there.”
She pulled back, and looked him in the eyes (or as close as she could come, with her own being misaligned,) “Type, I’m just asking again, to make absolutely, positively sure, you understand this. You are not gonna come back from this. You’re gonna be a pile of poop.”
With a snicker, the stallion rubbed his hooves along Derpy’s flanks, tracing the straps of the lingerie. “And wonderfully plush flank fat on the most perfect rear in all of Equestria, too. Can’t forget that.”
Derpy blushed, rubbing her hinds together, and continued. “No coming back from the dead, no coming back as a ghost and haunting my flank, you’re gonna get gurgled into ass fat. You’ve written your last book, Mr. Writer.”
Laying his head on Derpy’s rump, he giggled. “I make no promises about hauntings. I might wanna stay and watch as you snuff more ponies, after all.”
“I’m not cleaning up your ectoplasm after you, Mr. Ghostwriter,” Derpy giggled.
There was a cough from the couch, and Type blinked, noticing the incredibly bulky Stallion sitting in the romantic lighting for the first time. Derpy broke the hug a second later, and led Type a few trots closer. “Ah, right, okay, so Type, this is Big Macintosh. He’ll be helping me send you out with a bang. Big Macintosh, Type Writer, marginally unknown novelist.”
“And for today, fertilizer delivery.” Type added, holding out a hoof.
Macintosh leaned over the back of the couch, chuckled, and shook it. “Pleased ta meetcha.”
Satisfied, Derpy motioned to the space in front of the couch, where a tarp had been laid down over the carpet, then a Princess-size mattress on top of that, and some pleasantly warm blankets to top it all off. The house was already plenty warm, of course, but it could hardly hurt. There was also a couple bottles of lube and several towels off to the side. “Well, I’m all set up for that, but I thought we should do some warmup first. Have a seat on the couch, so I can give you a little taste-test.”
Type nodded, pulling off his coat and hat, tossing them onto a nearby armchair. Then he sat on the side of the couch opposite Macintosh, sitting a little awkwardly. He’d expected Derpy to take a seat between them, but instead she dropped to the floor and used her hooves to nudge them both closer together. “Scootch up, you two! I can’t reach you both if you’re not hip-to-hip.”
Type Writer felt tiny alongside the comparatively giant stallion beside him. Macintosh was easily a hoof taller and three thicker, if not more. He was practically in the big Earth Pony’s shadow.
There was a pat on his leg, and he turned his attention back to the grey pegasus sitting by their hinds. Using both hooves at once, she spread both their legs, fully freeing their sheaths, which she instantly started rubbing and licking at. As adorable as Derpy was, she could turn drop-dead gorgeous at the drop of a hat. Although Type Writer always had a thing for garters and lingerie.
In seconds, rubbing and light nibbling at both Type Writer and Big Macintosh’s sheathes turned to sucking and slurping along two very-turned-on Stallion’s cocks, Derpy swapping from shaft to shaft every couple of seconds. After they were both pretty ready to go, Derpy zeroed in on Big Macintosh, who was at least as long as Type’s leg.
“Ready, Mac?” With a nod from the giant stallion, Derpy wrapped her lips around the tip of Macintosh’s dick and started working her mouth down around the shaft, coughing occasionally as it brushed the back of her mouth. As soon as she was down as far as she could get, she braced her forelegs on Mac’s hinds, and he put both his fores on the back of her head.
There was a moment of resistance, just a second where it looked like Derpy or Mac were going to hurt themselves, then a cartoonishly-loud ‘slurp’ noise filled the room. Derpy slid down to bump her muzzle against Mac’s crotch while her body arched upwards, keeping herself from hurting Mac.
It was still a bit much for Type Writer though. “Holy crap! Wha- how is she doing that?”
Mac just chuckled. “She’s used ta bigger things, if’n ya catch my drift…”
Derpy just gurgled, which sounded kinda like… well, however a pony with a dick as big as their foreleg down their throat, laughing, would sound. Then she tapped Big Mac on the hind, and he started sliding her off again with that same slurping sound, albeit much slower. She left a wet sheen all over the cock as she did, after lubing it with her whole throat, and when she popped off the top there was a tiny spray of spit and a long strand of drool connecting her to the end.
Wiping it away, she just giggled again. “Hee! Don’t usually go right for that, but that’s not the main attraction, don’t want you to finish early.” She swished her tail towards the mattress. “Alrighty! Part 2! Go lie down, and use some lube, inside and and out.”
Type Writer’s eyes widened. “Oh?...Oh! Doing that, huh? Okay!” He dropped onto the mattress and started squeezing out some lube, over his own shaft, and then poking the end of the bottle into his rear and squeezing a more than a fair portion of the stuff inside.
Derpy just nodded, and turned to Big Mac as type set up. “Okay. Mac? Go slow and shallow, for now.” The red giant nodded, and rolled off the couch slowly, before sitting at the bottom end of the mattress. Type had just finished getting ready himself, and as he watched the large stallion shuffle into position, he chuckled nervously.
“Okay… Okay. Right… Ready when you are.” The brown stallion scooted a bit closer, and Big Mac slowly picked up his hind legs, and scooted himself onto the mattress proper, before nudging his dick into position. After a moment, Mac started pushing forward and spreading the smaller stallion’s ass. There was a tiny gush of lube, which was quickly plugged, and Mac stopped as soon as his cockhead was firmly wedged inside.
Then Derpy sashayed into the picture, slowly trotting through the space between them, choosing each step carefully so as not to trip over them. Despite all that, she still tripped at the end, her forehoof slipping off the mattress, and she fell to the cushy surface with a cute yelp and a bounce. It also had the wonderful, if unintended side effect of putting her wonderfully rolling rump within appreciating distance, and Type patted it once before beginning to massage it, as he acclimated to Big Macintosh’s cock.
Derpy giggled again, as she gave her rump a little shake. “How’s it feel?”
“Like a nice, warm, squishy pillow… One that I know somepony’s going to smother me with.” Type said with a chuckle. After a moment, Derpy started getting up again, and Mac took the opportunity to probe a little deeper. She moved behind Type, then put her hooves on his shoulders and slowly started easing him down. “Are you gonna start already?”
Derpy shook her head, eye rattling around like an arts and crafts project. “Nah. You that eager to become assfat?”
“Maaay-be…” To his relief, and a little disappointment, which dissipated quickly, Derpy instead slowly sat down on his belly. She didn’t put all her weight down at once, but made contact, then started easing her way down. The feeling of her buttcheeks pressing down on his gut was like an elephant slowly crushing him a foot, with the pressure slowly increasing, ever so slowly, to bearable, then uncomfortable, then nearly crushing him.
“auughl…” He gurgled happily, as Derpy started scootching her but back and forth on his belly, his cock poking her in the back.
“I’ve already got a pretty heavy butt, Type… I’m not sure you’re gonna add much to it. Maybe just a thin, cute little layer, how does that sound?”
“Please…” Moaned Type happily, before letting out a coughing gasp. Derpy slowly stood up, lifting just a little bit of her weight, just enough to let him breathe properly again. Type was already sucking in air like a drowned pony.
It was right about then Big Macintosh bottomed out in Type’s ass. He tried sliding back and poking forward again, but short of rearranging his insides, Big Mac wasn’t gonna fit Little Mac inside any more. He’d only been able to get about half his length in, if that, but it felt hard as cement in Type Writer’s ass. Mac let out a cough, and Derpy started sliding back again, over Type’s cock, before taking it in her hooves.
“So, I’m thinking, you’re all turned on, you haven’t gotten to cum yet, and you’ve got Macintosh helping you with that… You’re gonna shoot a nice, big, warm jet of cum. And I’m thinking the perfect place for what might be your last is right in here.” With a hoof, she spread her buttered muffin, which was absolutely sopping wet with her juices.
Blinking, Type looked at her. “Derpy, are you in heat?”
“Hehe. Maaay-be…” She said with a giggle and a lascivious wink. Leaning forward, she put her hooves on Type’s chest, bracing herself against him. Then she slipped, and with another yelp, she slipped down his cock, hilting him inside her in an instant. The yelp was matched by one from Type as well, in shock and surprise at burying himself as deep as he could at the word ‘go’ and the way her velvety-plush, squishy, but by no means light butt cheeks slammed his hips down into the mattress. Even Big Macintosh grunted as the floor shook under all three of them, but he helped hold Type Writer in place.
After just a moment of distracting pleasure and confusion, Derpy was already checking under herself and Type’s face, trying to read his expressions. “Ohmigosh! Type, are you okay? I slipped, I just don’t know what went wrong!”
“Hah… that’s… woo! That’s fine, Derpy… Pelvis might be a little crushed, but I wouldn’t ask for anything less…” Nuzzling her, his hooves wandered up her hinds to settle on her cutie marks again, where he started kneading her fleshy folds of ass fat.
Relieved, Derpy let out a shiver, and arched her back just slightly, letting her partner explore her thighs with wild abandon and cooing as she reveled in the sensation. And when she started to get used to that, she began sliding forward and back, humping along his shaft, slowly and lovingly, before pressing herself back down to his chest, placing her muzzle on his shoulder and whispering directly into his ear:
“Oooh, yeah… I love feeling your hooves doing that… I think I’m gonna miss you, Type. Just a little, though. After all, you’ll be right here with me.” She nipped at his neck. “And another stallion’s gonna be running his hooves through my fur and playing my plushy butt, and everything you’ve added so generously to it…”
With a chuckle, Type gave his hoof a little bounce on her cutie mark. Not a slap, but definitely faster than simply placing his hoof on her rump, and the flesh jiggled as if he had. Derpy made just the cutest “yipe!” sound as he did, and then she giggled. “You’re gonna make really cute assfat, assfat.”
Type Writer shivered, before asking, “Hey, could you turn around, actually? I kinda wanna see my future jiggling…”
Derpy giggled, and gave him a long, indulgent kiss before pushing up off his chest again. It was gonna be their last. Her rear stayed anchored as she started turning, not even bothering to pull out before she did. Putting a hoof on her own voluminous rump, she gave it a proper slap in front of him.
The point of impact bounced around her hoof, and waves on a grey ocean rippled around the sea of her buttocks before they settled. Type put his own back on their rightful place, Derpy’s asscheeks, over her own and started alternating between groping and squeezing, gently slapping and shaking, pushing in and rolling around. Derpy giggled and started lifting herself up, fucking him and grinding his hips downwards into the mattress.
It also put her face-to-face with Big Macintosh, and she gave the big stallion a kiss on the end of his snout as well, before asking, “How ya holding up, big guy?”
“Hmph. Had tighter, but not for a while. Forgot how it feels.” He grunted, thrusting a little harder than before. “Could finish now, if I needed, but pacing myself.”
Derpy nodded, and put her head on his shoulder as well. “I forgot how experienced you were, Maccy. I’m so glad I met you, you’re so much fun to have around, and so reliable too…”
The Stallion let out a short chuckle. “Also, too big for you to eat.”
Derpy made a scrunchy face. “Also that. Least it prevents accidents, right?”
There was a particularly spirited grunt from behind her, and Type moaned, “Ooh...Getting close, Derpy. Ready for the delivery?”
She giggled, and nodded. “Yup! Make sure it all goes in the mail slot, now!”
Macintosh instantly started speeding up, pushing himself a little harder, a little deeper, and definitely a bit faster as Type approached his own orgasm. A moment later, Type’s hooves pressed on Derpy’s butt, creating grand valleys in her bubble-marked butt as he stiffened, with her garter straps becoming bridges across them. Macintosh came then as well, making one single loud grunt as he finished inside Type Writer’s asshole. All of this only made the writer’s finish even better, made him blast out a bigger torrent of cum, and fired it deep inside Derpy’s foalmaker.
“Y-yes!” She groaned, slamming herself back down and getting Type’s cock as deep inside herself as she could, desperate to milk every drop out of his cock while he could still cum. And then she stayed down, rump cheeks spreading out and enveloping his crotch, his legs, everything. Like a drop of liquid Derpy had been dripped onto his dick, it molded to the stallion underneath her as she clenched her insides, still struggling for more cum to sate her estrus.
And the entire time, Type Writer couldn’t move an inch. He was struggling to do so, to keep humping against her plush ass, but the sheer weight and size of her cheeks kept him helplessly immobilized. Even Macintosh slowly resuming his thrusting didn’t shift Derpy’s plot more than just a few bouncy inches, though it did slosh their cum around a bit, and even that might have just been her panting heavily after cumming so hard.
“Hah… Hah… Oh Celestia, Type, you really did deliver…” She slowly heaved herself up, sliding off his cock, and the moment the tip was freed a small torrent of cum came with it, splattering across his chest with a wet splat sound. Lethargically, Derpy tried to clench her hinds together and keep herself from losing more, while Type just chuckled, and pulled his spectacles off, folding them up and placing them a fair distance away on the mattress. “I really hope so... I have a feeling I’m not gonna get another chance.”
“Oh, you got that right,” she moaned seductively, staggering as she tried to stand, before slowly collapsing back onto his chest. The whole mattress squeaked again as it knocked the wind out of Type, and he was left gasping as Derpy shivered, rubbing her belly. “Ready to become part of my butt, Type?”
Panting, he gasped out, “What, not even a goodbye kiss?”
Derpy smirked, and shoved her butt up his chest until the crevasse of her crotch was wrapping itself around his head, and he could see his cum dripping out of her cunt. She was sweating only slight, a couple beads of sweat rolling down her buttcheeks and dripping into his fur, but the real star of the show was the sheer sex-craving musk rolling off her crotch, unsatisfied with his single orgasm. As he was sniffing that and slowly getting hard again, her anus spread, and she let a single, pungent squib of air rip out directly into his muzzle. “Nah. Not when my butt is gonna give you the last goodbye kiss you’ll ever feel.”
Type’s jaw dropped, and his cock was hard again in an instant. “Ahhhh, yeah… I can’t wait to be the gas you make the next stallion sniff, before he follows me in…” His head dipped forward and started licking across her asshole, tongue swirling around her ponut before poking inside. She was pretty clean, but Type just enjoyed exploring the inside of her rectum, knowing he was going to go inside as soon as she’d suffocated him.
Derpy cooed as his tongue slid around inside her, but she pulled away a few seconds later. “Is that so? Because I don’t think I’m going to… Unless you beg for it.”
Macintosh started humping Type’s asshole properly again as he begged, so every pleading request was punctuated with cute gasps and whimpers. “Please, Derpy, I wanna be assfat… I want you to pull me inside, and slide me into your belly. I’m nothing but buttfood now, just nutrients you haven’t absorbed yet.”
“And what do you want me to do before that, buttfood?”
Type gasped as he slumped back, thrusting as best he could upwards. He was going to cum without his dick even being touched if this kept up. “I want you to put your asscheeks over my head, and use my tongue to pleasure you, before you suffocate me with your wonderful ass… I want the last thing I ever see to be a pair of grey rump cheeks falling towards my face, the last thing I ever taste to be your asshole… Smother me with your butt, Derpy, please!”
“Weeell… Since you asked so nicely… Any last words?” Derpy smirked as she shifted her butt closer again, looking at Type from between her expansive asscheeks.
“Buttfood doesn’t get any last words.” He groaned, before licking at her rear again.
Derpy giggled. “Aww, Type… That’s so cute. Thank you for being my lunch.”
With excruciating slowness, she leaned back, and two planet-sized asscheeks loomed in front of Type’s eyes, with thin blue lines stretching across the expanse, and a cloud of bubbles on both cheek. He got his wish as her ass enclosed his head, and all went dark as her cheeks spread out against the mattress. He was pressed against her crotch, and the sheer weight of her rump sealed him off for the rest of his life.
He was nice and docile as the world closed in on him, focusing entirely on her puckered butthole, licking at it even as she signed his death warrant with it. He tried to get his hooves up to play with her cheeks as he started running out of air, but he couldn’t even do that. His entire upper body was pressed flat against the mattress, unable to move, unable to struggle, and best of all, unable to breathe.
He tried to remain as still as he could, but soon pure instinct took over, his brain freaking out, even if he wasn’t, at the lack of oxygen. His hinds started to kick weakly, but Big Macintosh held them in place safely as he fucked the dying pony’s ass. The only thing he could really do was arch his back a bit, and even that just made his cock flop against his stomach, splattering the spilled cum even further across his chest and the mattress underneath them.
As Type’s head started to pound he jammed his tongue, even his whole muzzle into Derpy’s asshole as deep as he could, desperate to get off from the sensation and her wonderful smell before he lost all feeling. It was close, but he made it, balls clenching and cock flopping as he came across Derpy’s belly even as he started to truly suffocate. When he finished emptying his balls, he didn’t even have the energy to struggle, and simply slumped back, losing consciousness for the final time under Derpy’s butt.
The grey mare smiled as Type slumped, shifting her cheeks from side to side a little bit to make sure she was comfortable, then looked down at the mess oozing down her belly. Pity it hadn’t ended up inside her as well, but this was Type’s dream. If not him, she’d get more opportunities.
Under her butt, she could feel his heart hammering away inside his chest, struggling to keep working, going faster and faster, until it skipped a beat, then two. it was almost as if she could feel it sputtering, feel Type Writer dying under her butt. As the writer’s heart finally came to a standstill, she sighed happily and patted his belly. “Goodbye, Type. You’re gonna make a fine layer of flank fat.”
Of course, then the dead pony utterly ruined the moment by pissing himself. His sheath twitched, and a weak stream of yellow urine gushed out of the end and splattered across his belly, washing away the drying cum. Derpy’s face scrunched up again. After a moment, the stream came to a sputtering stop, and the rest of the cooling urine joined the cooling corpse, soaking into the mattress around it.
Big Mac let out a chuckle at her reaction, before pausing in his slow, shallow thrusts. He let the dead writer’s hinds drop, and the limp, rubbery legs flopped to the mattress with a thump. “Wanna lick him dry first, or are ya ready for lunch?”
Derpy gagged a little bit, before peeling her butt of Type Writer’s muzzle. Turning to face him, she inspected his expression. If it weren’t for the wide-eyed dead stare and the tongue that had receded back into his happy smile, she’d almost think Type was just sleeping. it was kind of cute, even. She gave him a quick snog on the nose, and muttered, “There’s your goodbye kiss, buttfood,” before closing his eyes.
Then she stepped over him, and tilted forward, placing her head against the mattress looking back. Type’s corpse lay between her legs, and Big Mac between his. At the top of the mattress, Derpy gave her rear another slap. “Alright Maccy, let’s add some flab to my rump! Push his head in, I’ll do most of the work.”
Macintosh nodded, picking up the dead earth pony in a firepony’s carry, and heaving his head up. After some careful maneuvering, he placed Type’s muzzle against Derpy’s asshole for the final time, and put his hoof on the back of the ex-writer’s head. “Ready?”
“Yup!” Derpy said with a nod, clopping slowly as Macintosh started pushing forward. The start was always the hardest part, before magic kicked in and made the feeding easier. With a sudden slurp, Type’s head slid in, and Macintosh froze, making sure he was still balanced. He chuckled to himself a moment later—this would have been a hell of a sight, Derpy on all fours clopping, while Big Macintosh was jamming a dead pony soaked in his own piss into her asshole head-first.
He only entertained the thought for a second, before Derpy’s own anal muscles started pulling Type in for him. The dead pony’s forelegs flopped forward, out of Big Macintosh’s hooves, and he grabbed at his butt cheeks instead. All the while, Derpy continued to pull forward, slowly easing Type Writer into her rectum. She slurped him up like a noodle, belly and sheathe and tail flopping as they slid inside, and Macintosh let his hooves drop as the smaller stallion’s legs began receding inside.
Placing them instead on Derpy’s hips, he pushed himself forward, hardening as he mounted her. Derpy let out a shiver when she felt Type’s hooves disappear, and opened her eyes again to watch the fresh bulge in her gut. Macintosh reopening her rear with his cock definitely felt less filling than Type had been, but she preferred the way he started humping her slowly, getting used to fucking instead of swallowing again.
With a happy purr, she pulled her hoof out of her muffin and started rubbing her gut, which was just about as pleasurable for her with Macintosh’s assistance. She loved this feeling, of being so full. It just completed her in this very primal way, that she couldn’t explain. The fact that Type had wanted to give her that feeling, that he had literally begged to be reduced to mush inside her belly… That was the best. Soon, everything Type Writer had been would be reduced to chyme and bones, but she’d remember him for a very long time.
Her hoof caught a solid edge against her belly, one of Type’s limp hooves, and she traced its shape as it shifted, still sliding through her intestines. He’d be much less solid coming the other way, she thought to herself, before a particularly hard thrust and Macintosh’s hips smacking against her own knocked her out of her reverie. “Mmph… More like that, Maccy. That’ll help our friend digest nicely, I think.”
They stayed like that for a few minutes, Macintosh slowly thrusting, and Derpy enjoying the slow sensation of Type sliding up to her belly. She knew the second Type reached her stomach proper—there was nothing like that slipping, sloshing feeling. As she was rubbing her Type again by proxy, Macintosh piped up. “Reckon you oughta have a praying mantis as a cutie mark.”
Derpy burst out in giggles, which were suddenly interrupted by a cute little belch and a bit of brownish fur. “Aww, shush, you. Or I might just try and eat you anyway, heh.”
Macintosh just chuckled and nuzzled the back of her neck, before speeding up. He was going for the finish, and Derpy shifted back to clopping, matching his speed. With a giggly, squeaky orgasm, Derpy came, with Macintosh right behind her, loosing his final blast of cum for the night directly up her asshole, chasing Type Writer’s path. Sated, Derpy let herself flop onto the mattress with Macintosh right on top of her. As the big, red, cuddly stallion started snuggling her, already falling asleep, Derpy used her wing to pull up the blankets she’d set aside.
As she did so, she heard a small clatter, and peered over the edge of the mattress to see Type Writer’s discarded spectacles. He’d left a lot of stuff around, between that, his hat, and his jacket. Usually, she just chucked any clothes her buttfood might have been wearing in the charity bin, but this time… she felt compelled to keep it around. Picking up the glasses, she tried them on and immediately yanked them off—she’d forgotten just how nearsighted Type had been.
With a shrug, she tossed the spectacles onto the armchair with everything else, and snuggled back up to Macintosh for the night. She’d figure out what to do with those later. For now, she had to work on digesting their previous owner.
* * *
A few days later, she was struggling with the lipstick in her bathroom. It wasn’t the easiest thing to paint on, without a horn and the usual problems with hoof-eye coordination, but she tried her best. Capping the tiny cylinder, she set it to the side of her sink, then peered at herself in the mirror.
Shoot. She’d smudged it a little. Well… hopefully her date wouldn’t mind a little smudging. She seemed like a nice mare, name of Carrot Top. Turning around, Derpy poked her newly-expanded butt up so she could look at it in the mirror, then gave it a shake. Type Writer had given her a couple inches of happy bounciness at least. She gave Carrot Top a week before she was begging to add to it as well.
Speaking of her newest passenger, her gut gurgled right at that exact moment, and she knew her body was truly finished with her writer. Trotting over to the toilet, she eased herself back so as not to crack the porcelain again, and relaxed. She must’ve dumped a couple dozen ponies down this toilet by now, she thought with a giggle. Ponyville was good to her.
With a grunt, she let out a loud fart, which resonated inside of the bowl like a gunshot. It was a good thing she was alone in the house at the moment. With another grunt, she started pushing out the first log, which was a little tricky at first. It only took a moment for her to clear it though, and the rest of the log slipped nicely into the bowl with a heavy splat. She followed it with a couple more that were much softer. Her next log started breaking up as she pushed it out, but it came easy enough.
After that one, Derpy shifted forward and let out a steady stream of yellow piss, which rolled down the inside of the bowl and splashed some of the looser shit around. Then came a few bone-ridden chunks, which were small, formed almost entirely around ribs and the smaller leg bones. The final part of her dump was easily the hardest, and she knew in an instant it was the deceased writer’s skull. Nothing else could be so round and solid.
It slid into position easy enough, but stuck right before she managed to push it out, and she really had to strain before it came free with another splattery blast of gas right behind it.She stayed on the pot for another minute or two, just making sure her guts were finished for now, then rolled off the toilet, wiping as she went.
She tossed the dirtied paper into the bowl to the side of the main pile, which, to her pleasure, Type Writer’s skull sat atop like a crown. Delicately, she pulled it free of the rest of his remains, flushed them into the sewers, and placed his skull in the sink. She washed it as much as she could before she needed to leave, and looked it over. Clean enough.
She did one last check in the mirror to make sure the lipstick was still wet enough, then gave the temple of the skull a big smooch, leaving a bright red lipstick stain across the bony forehead. With another happy giggle, she carried it out to her living room, and a shelf that she’d never really found a use for. Type’s jacket had gone into her closet, while the glasses and hat she’d kept out her for this. She set the skull on the shelf, and put the hat on top of it at a jaunty angle, to show the lipstick stain. The spectacles she just left next to the skull.
Standing back, she looked over the whole thing, and then giggled to herself. Well, maybe it was a bit odd, but she’d never been the best at decoration, And it’s not like ponies didn’t know about this, after all. With a shrug, she pulled on her own coat, and left for her date. Maybe she’d even get another meal tonight, if Carrot Top took to her quickly enough.
Author's Note
Happy Valentine's Day, everybody!
So, I haven't been writing much lately. There's a lot of reasons for that, and they're all depressing. Point is, I wanted to write something, so I just basically went with one of my favorite ideas, "Derpy butt suffocation/anal vore." In fact, consider this whole thing a tribute to Derpy's Butt.
It's also the reason Type Writer, uh.... Exists. It really was meant to be kind of a nothing writing exercise that quickly grew into it's own thing, but I made it as romantic as I could in time for Valentine's Day.
So, enjoy! And please, if you could, tell me what you think about the story, good or bad. Feedback's how I improve as a writer, after all!
