I turn my back for two seconds, and look what happens.
"I'm going to kill you," Lyra Heartstrings said. I sat on a chair in her house, bound at the wrists and ankles with ropes. Lyra held a knife in her hoof and advanced towards me menacingly.
"I'm not worried," I told her honestly.
This caused her to stop short. "What? Why not?"
"Well, for starters that's a butter knife you're threatening me with."
She looked at the knife in her hoof.
"What- but of course it is!" she blustered. "It's so it will hurt you even more when I cut your eyeballs out!"
I frowned at her. "Wouldn't a melon baller be better for that?"
"A what?"
"Well, with a knife you'll have to dig and dig around in there," I said. "Blood gets everywhere, and you run the risk of rupturing the eyeball. It would be a huge mess."
Lyra seemed to be faintly nauseated.
"Grab a melon baller," I continued, enjoying her growing discomfort. "Dig it in, twist, and pull it out. One quick scoop and say good-bye, depth perception. Do it again and it's, 'Hey look, ma! No eyeballs!'"
Lyra's face became pale, and I think she may have started to hyperventilate. Eventually she managed to get ahold of herself.
"I don't think I have a melon baller," she said uncertainly. "Should I ask my neighbor if I can borrow one?"
I gave her a disappointed look. "Really? And what were you planning on telling them? 'Oh hey, I invited the only human in town, Anonymous, to my place, then drugged his tea and tried to torture him. Do you have an eyeball scoop I could borrow?'"
"You don't know!" Lyra protested. "I could tell her that I'm making... er..."
Lyra trailed off.
"What do you make with a melon baller?" she asked me.
"Melon balls," I replied deadpan.
"Right, right. I could tell her I'm making melon balls!"
"And if she asks you why you're making melon balls?"
"Shut up!" Lyra yelled. "I make melon balls all the time! Bitch, you don't even know! I be tripping balls!"
I wasn't sure whether she was responding to me or to her hypothetical neighbor. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
"Oh, and just FYI," I continued, "you're not going to knock anybody out with herbal tea. I mean, what were you thinking? Chamomile extract?"
"Well, it always helps me get to sleep," she said defensively. I snorted with laughter.
Lyra swept the empty cups off the table. They fell to the ground with a loud "crash!" She looked up and transfixed me with ger gaze. The ineffectual pony of a second ago was gone, replaced by one whose body language screamed "dangerous predator". Never breaking eye contact, she slowly approached me, coming to a stop just in front of me. It was oddly hypnotic.
I felt my breath catch in my throat.
"Knife or no knife, I'm going to kill you," she said calmly, her face inches from mine. Her eyes had gone hard and I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she meant it. She was going to kill me; the only question left now was 'How?'
For the first time since I'd arrived at her home I felt a sense of dread. I nervously started shifting my wrists against the ropes holding them.
"Actually," she said, practically purring, "you have two choices. Either I kill you, slowly, painfully, or..."
I could feel myself sweat from the stress. Or? Or what?
She leaned in and whispered into my ear, "Or I get to fuck you."
I felt like an electric bolt hit my spine. My body reflexively jerked up and I straightened as tall as the chair would let me.
"Didn't expect that, did you?" she asked, sauntering around me. "A stallion's life or his purity. I wonder, which will you-"
"Fuck me." I said, completely serious.
"Wh-what?" she sputtered.
"I said fuck me. Either I die a slow and gruesome death, or I get laid. Seems like a no-brainer to me."
"Wait, what? No! That's not how this is supposed to go!"
"Wait, I should have checked," I said. "You're not gonna, like, shove stuff up my butt, right?"
Her face was one of horrified shock. "No!" she yelled. "God, no! I have no interest in putting anything in your butt!"
I smiled and sighed with relief. "Well that's good," I said. "I mean, I have a few friends who are into that stuff, but that's not really my fetish, you know what I mean?"
"What is wrong with you?!" she yelled in frustration. "You were supposed to be blissfully oblivious to my advances! We were supposed to do a one-sided dance where I would hit on you and you would have no clue about it! But that didn't work, so I had to step up my timetable!"
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "That time you hit on me, I totally caught on. You complimented my looks, and I returned the compliment before playfully mussing your hair."
"Exactly!" she ranted. "Why couldn't you have been more like the pony self-inserts in the fanfiction I read?! Even now, I'm threatening to rape you and you don't even seem to care! Do you have any idea how hard Shirou Poniya would be nosebleeding if he were in your shoes?!"
I frowned. "Well, that's not really fair of you to compare me to a fictional character. It's not my fault if I can't live up to the standards you've created in your own head for me."
Lyra huffed. "I guess not," she said.
"Now, why don't you let me go," I suggested, "and we can just chalk this up as a funny misunderstanding." I held up my rope-bound wrists to Lyra.
Lyra sighed. "Oh, all right. Come over here and let me-"
Lyra's brain caught up with her mouth. "Hey!" she yelled. "You almost got me with that one!"
I grinned widely. "It was worth a shot."
"Ugh! You are infuriating!"
I chuckled for a bit.
"Come on," I said. "It was at least a little funny."
"No it was not!"
I sighed. You can't please every pony, I guess. Still, it was about time to wrap up this little farce.
I said, "Lyra, look at me. I'm serious now: this is your last chance. Let me go now."
Lyra grinned. "I think I'll just kill you instead," she said.
"Oh, you could try, but..." I held up my hands, which were no longer bound by the ropes. "You might have a hard time of it."
Before Lyra could react I grabbed her and heaved her onto my lap. My right arm snaked around her torso and trapped her against my chest.
"I got loose of my bonds a while ago," I said. "You really need to work on your ropework skills."
She struggled to get free, but with my free hand I grabbed a handful of her mane, near the scalp, and gently but firmly pulled backwards. She stopped struggling and moaned softly. I whispered into her ear.
"Here's the deal," I said, softly but firmly. "You are going to do exactly what I want. Exactly how I want."
She moaned.
"You will help me fulfill every single fucked-up fantasy I have ever had, and do you know what will happen if you try to make me stop?"
She moaned even harder but otherwise didn't respond.
I pulled her mane again. "Do you?" I challenged.
"You'll take me anyways?" she asked, her voice a combination of fear and arousal.
"No." I said. "I'll stop."
I let go of her and leaned back in the chair, opening as much distance as I could while still keeping her on my lap. She looked at me uncomprehendingly.
"If you ever want me to stop," I explained, "just say the word and I will. Do you understand?"
Lyra nodded. I reached over and pulled her mane again, making her whimper.
"More?" I asked, teasingly.
"Yes," she whispered.
I grinned. It was a long time before I left that house.
It was even longer before Lyra could walk straight again.
