Real Live Wire

by Stegtorn

Rating: mature
Tags: Other, Sex, Horror, Human, Gore, Anon, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Second Person, Dark
Length: 3475

Man meets Mare, Mare meets her quietus.

Most people want to live quiet, simple lives. It is not their fault their urges get in the way. How could you judge someone for something their entire body compels them to do?

Mature for mature content.
Sex for briefly sexual content.
Gore for briefly bloody content.

Published 2016-12-18 23:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-12-18 23:40:01 UTC

A Peaceful Life

The alarm on top of your nightstand is a lovely little piece of technology. At 7 AM sharp it buzzes briefly, and then automatically begins playing a local radio station. Easy listening, nothing too rough on the ears. You wake up every morning to either day's weather report or the breezy sounds of whatever song the host has decided on.

When you remove the covers you feel heavy, like a pony is hanging off your back. Although your night's rest is always peaceful and refreshing, your mind is a fraction slower when you first rouse yourself from sleep. Your first act after rising from bed is to relieve yourself. After that, you return to your room to make your bed. You like your mattress covers tucked in, so you're always sure to do that after adjusting the linens and fluffing your pillows up a bit. While they will set during the day as you're out, you prefer not to do it at night. You quickly snag the empty glass bottle from last night off your nightstand. Luckily, you drank all the milk in it again and now there is none on the bottom. This is nice, as you do not like cleaning milk that crusts over from being left exposed. You place this bottle in the sink to be washed later.

Next is breakfast. You like to balance a diversity of tastes and nutrients. Today you're having peanut butter pancakes, eggs, and a bowl of porridge. It will fill you until lunch time, and gives you a sobering boost in the morning. The peanuts added to the pancakes provide a good amount of protein, a needed supplement to your diet. You sit down to your meal with your marefriend. She will stay home today, while you are at work. She does not eat, or talk. She sits in a position where you can look into her eyes while you eat.

Your favorite part of breakfast is the glass of juice at the end. Today you have orange juice, the biting citrus invigorates your body, burning your throat with a slight tingle. What you do not like, is pulp however. Last week, when you purchased the jug now resting in your fridge, you were very displeased to find it contained pulp. Instead of returning it, you made the effort to immediately strain the juice. It took a half an hour, but you removed all traces of the pulp. It was an unpleasant experience. You will not be purchasing that brand of orange juice again. You kiss your marefriend on the mouth before leaving the kitchen. The taste of citrus and her mixes quite nicely.

After breakfast is done, you wash the dishes and utensils you used for your meal. The weather is nice, and the sun is up, so you have the window in the kitchen open. The smell of cut grass and the subtle touch of the breeze makes you feel something. Such a peaceful day so far.

Your next step is to return to the bedroom to gather the clothes you will wear today. The local tailor, Rarity, was able to reconstruct many of the clothes you described to her, and the suits, pants, undergarments and socks you commissioned from her are of an outstanding quality. As you admire the closet of perfected clothing, the cream suit jacket and pants set catches your eye. And for the shirt, you decide on a simple black tee. It is casual Friday at your office, that means you do not have to wear a button-up today. You fold the clothes and snag a towel from your other closet, taking the bundle into the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower.

After setting your neat set of garments on the toilet's cover you turn on the water in the shower. You were not pleased with the control you had over the temperature with this shower handle when you first moved in. Using a protractor and a thermometer, you carefully mapped out the variety of temperatures your shower would provide. Today, as always, you turn it exactly 45 degrees from its resting position. This ensures the water is not cold, but not too scalding either. It's just warm enough to tingle your skin, and stave off any chill on a cold morning. You leave the water to run for a bit.

You brush your teeth now because you do not want to get toothpaste on your day clothes. In the past, you had wondered about brushing your teeth after showering, and simply not putting on the new clothes until after finishing. You quickly realized this could not work, if you got toothpaste on your bare skin you would have to wash in the shower again. This would upset your schedule and make you late.

To minimize loss of time in the case of mistakes, you wear your bed clothes while brushing your teeth. You say the alphabet twice, once normally, once backwards. Then you spit, rinse off the head of the toothbrush, then rinsing your mouth with a small cup of water. You spit again.

The water has been running for a short time now. Undressing, you place these clothes directly into your laundry basket. You step into the warm water, wetting your hair and body thoroughly before beginning a real wash. You use a product that doesn't contain any fragrance or additives, just a simple shampoo. You wash your hair first for an obvious reason, naturally all the grimy and dirt from your hair would get on your body after washing. If you wash your body first, and then your hair, you would have to wash your body again.

After shampooing once, you then begin lathering a body wash. After application of this, you rinse both out. This takes you about twenty minutes, you try your best to time it, but generally come up either a minute too early or too late. This is not an issue, your morning schedule provides for ten minutes of lost time, and thus a minute here and there will not affect your schedule.

Toweling off is simple, you do it until your body is dry, like everyone else. Now you dress in your new clothes for the day, accept for socks. Today you aren't wearing a tie, but if you were, you would tie your tie while making sure you were doing it right by looking in the mirror. Today you spent thirty seconds looking in the mirror. There is no necktie to tie, so you have this time.

You are handsome. Strong facial structure that provides the look of strong masculinity, while also a dashing sense of austerity. Like an artist adjusting a mannequin, you place your thumb on the back of your jaw, and your pointer finger on your chin, tilting your head to get a partial profile. In a word, elegance. Pure aesthetic.

By this time it is 8 AM, you turn off the radio now, because you do not like the mare who begins to host at 8 AM. You retrieve a pair of socks from your draw, sit on the bed, and then carefully slide them up your feet. You make sure they are set properly, pacing around the bed once to make sure the seam was aligned with your toes, and the heel as exactly on your heel. Quickly, you snag your wristwatch from your bedside table and place it on.

At this time, you retrieve your bag from your coat hook (the contents of which were pre-prepared the past evening). The messenger bag is light, you do not want too much weight on your shoulder as you walk. Before exiting finally, you take the keys off the key hook beside the door, placing them inside the breast pocket inside your suit jacket.

The birds chirp, the trees rustle in the wind, and according to your watch it's 8:15. A mare passes you on the street and greets you, you nod to her in reply. The streets are relatively clear this time of day. By leaving your home at 8:15 you leave enough time to get to work comfortably early, while avoiding the rush of other employees who were late. You do not like arriving early for work, and thus the when you arrive at your office building at 8:25, you walk around to the back, which takes three minutes, and then up the side-stairs to the third floor, where your office is located. By the time you enter the actual office it is 8:30 and you are exactly on time to punch in.

Another perfect start, so far luck is on your side.

Work is done, so you leave after cleaning your desk and reorganizing your work for tomorrow. You leave when everyone else does. A trio of mares stops you outside, a stallion not too far away. All four look up to you, they ask if you would like to hang out, as it is Friday. The air is still and warm, you can feel the air pressure though, as if a storm is coming by soon.

"Come on, just this once!" the stallion asks, chirping up when he finally catches up to the mares.

You mimic their tone and gestures, but are careful not to do it too much, or else they might suspect something.

"I'm sorry, I've got to return some tapes to the video store. Perhaps we will do something next week," you say coolly. Your facial expressions are careful, and slightly slow, but they show that you are telling the truth and feel disappointed that you can't come with them.

One of the girl sighs and rolls her eyes in response. The group turns away when you do, departing for the opposite direction. You walk slightly faster for one block to get away from them quicker. You're about to cross the street, when an earth pony catches your eye.

Light blue eyes, faded yellow mane, faded yellow tail with an washed-out orange streak through it. Her cutie mark: an apple slice on a cinnamon bun. She's standing before a shop window, looking in at some trinkets. Her standing form, resting as it looks from outside, it is wonderful.

I think I will take her as my new marefriend. Your mouth got dry, breathing ever so slightly more labored. Yes, this feeling, this is it. Your body is telling you she is the correct choice. The clouds above get a shade darker, and begin to cluster, swirling slowly above.

You place her in the basement, she's still sleeping now, so it'll be fine. Even if she wakes up, her mouth is gagged and she's bound. It will be okay, you've done it before. There wasn't a problem the last three time, why would there be one now? From your kitchen, you retrieve your old marefriend. She's light to carry, her stuffing allowing a slight springiness to her hide. Her mane and coat were still soft, and she smelled vaguely of tree sap, but with a harsh undercurrent of vinegar. She will be set beside your old mares in the basement, and will remain there.

Apple Cobbler was awake now, her beautiful blue eyes are wide open, tracing your movements. Her cloth gag was getting wet with saliva. She's struggling against her binds, but this did not concern you. The previous three had not gotten loose of their bondage, why should she? Yes, Earth ponies are strong, you like the feeling of their muscles, but these knots are beyond her strength.

After setting down your marefriend you walk over to her and crouch down. A blanket had been laid out on the floor by you previously. You did not want her to be against the cold stone with no barrier between. With on your hands, you press against her underbelly, with the other you touch her flank. She bucks hard, squirming away from you.

The movement of her muscles, the heat from her body. What a lovely feeling! The struggle, it makes you nearly out of breath. You didn't want to undo the gag, you had made that mistake the first time. The begging and crying the first one did made you upset, the shouting was no better. Just enjoying the movements under her hide, and her warmth. This is your thrill, or at least, the first part of it. A few more minutes of that satisfies you, but you have to carry on.

Observing your past works, you see a mix of success and failure. Improper stitching, wrongly cut hides, ill-fitting molds. Your first marefriend is a completely wreck to your eyes. So many dozens of inaccuracies, and she had such a good stance when you first met her. Luckily she was truly still chaste.

The next one, while on a technical level more sound, did not appeal to you with the same vigor as the first one did. Such a shame, that your first marefriend was so perfect in her natural form, and you could not preserve her. Your skills weren't up to snuff. There were now, your last and latest is near perfection, but she was not perfect. Hope fizzled in your chest, a spark of light, which only grew when you looked down at the struggling horse. She could be the last marefriend you need. Perhaps, although someone better could come along. . .

Using a bucket and stool from nearby, you forcibly position her neck on the stool, with the bucket underneath it to catch the drainage. She looked afraid, and you did not want to muscles to tense in her face and ruin the moment. You cooed calming words in her ear from behind, making sure she couldn't see you, but could feel you. Breath from your steady exhales bristled the soft fur on her ears. As your heart rate calmed, so did hers, the both of you become one in this way.

When her breathing was slow, like yours, you pressed the knife against her throat and quickly cut ear to ear, before she could react. Just as fluidly, you placed her throat further over the bucket, the blood splattering in with a calming pitter-patter. The gurgling, bubbling noises annoy you though. With one hand you held her down from her struggling, with the other you brush her hair gently. Eventually it stops, the hardest part is over.

With care you roll her back onto the blanket, now retrieving a set of towels and another bucket, this time filled with water. You clean her wound, and redress it with sutures. This process is one of the harder ones. It's easy to open to tear the skin more than you need, which will look bad later on. Your first marefriend had this problem which left an ugly scar on her neck. The thread you used did not mesh well with her coat's tones, and was far too visible.

It isn't indicative of the final product, but currently the wound was so tightly bound, and the thread so elegantly sewed in, that you could only see it upon close inspection. The quality of your handiwork had improved, your practice on smaller forest animals had helped with that. The lessons of finesse and steady hands had carried over to this larger display.

Is it not a man's duty to better himself for the sake of his lover?

The hardest part is to come, the skinning of your mare. It is a long process, it takes most of the night. This is one of the few times you upset your sleep schedule and go to bed late. It is worth it, of course. Is it not a man's duty to make sacrifices for his lover? Only with great care and effort are you able to skin her and preserve the pieces you want. Marginally little goes to waste, what won't parts of her you don't like you discard. Her innards however, will provide you with meals for quit some time. Those are packaged and refrigerated. As you begin setting her down on her stand you ponder the possibility of waking up late tomorrow and preparing some throat sweetbread for breakfast. The springy tenderness is such a delight in the morning.

It takes until early 1:20 AM, but you have posed and set her, with the help of chemicals and woodwool, in the original stance you found her. So enchanting, the subtle leaning in, the yearning etched still in her face. Although, you imagine the yearning came more from a want to escape rather than the want to purchase whatever was on display at the shop. You brush against her side with one hand, pressing gently. It did not have the warmth, but the layer of cotton stuffing between the woodwool allowed for a more natural response to touch than there would be normally. Her coat was enticing. Currently she smelled like vinegar, and this displeased you, but it was only temporary. Tomorrow will be your first date, you've already purchased her a perfume to wear. There is a final step however. You sit back slightly on your own stool, and gently spin her around so that her rear is facing you. With one hand you raise up her tail and with another you tie it to the hook above you, this holds it up so you could work.

With thread and needle you once again set to correcting a mistake. This one however is not of your doing. It is unfortunate, but Apple Cobbler was not the purest of mares in life. This fact is hardly one you can be sure of until you inspect your marefriend closely, so it's one you do not worry about too much when picking one out. Naturally, as any man should, you want a pure mare to spend your time with. However, some compromise is to be found in any relationship. Upon finding she no longer had her virtue, you were deeply disturbed, but carried on dressing her anyway, she is so perfect despite this fact that you could nary let it soil the moment.

Beginning at her clit, you sew left to right, tracing gently until you reach her anus. It's delicate work, you do your best to not damage her too much. You pull on the thread tightly so that she will stay chaste. An erection presses roughly against your trousers. Satisfied that she is now complete, you set to cleaning your shop. Chemicals to be stored, materials to be stored, messes to be cleaned. All of this takes you until 2 AM, but the sense of relief and healthy feeling of tiredness comforts you and lets you know it is all right to go to bed late tonight, for you did good work here.

Although tonight was a rare disturbance to the schedule, you carry out your nightly routine all the same. You undress from your work clothes and set them in the laundry. You redress in far more comfortable and looser fitting bed clothes. Blue and white pinstripe pajamas, with stripes roughly half an inch thick. From then you set a pot of water to boil. With this occurs you do your first set of stretches. These are light exercises to limber your body and uncoil the muscles that become strained and stressed during the day. The water boils quickly, and you place inside it a small glass bottle containing a healthy portion of whole milk. After about a minute or so you turn off the stove and remove the milk. Pouring out the water into the sink, you take the milk inside to your bedroom.

The bottle will rest on your nightstand and cool off slightly while you do your second and last set of stretches. These are even less intensive, and you often wonder if they ever help, or if they are redundant. The most you know, this routine ensures you get eight hours of healthy, deep sleep, much like a baby. You gulp down the glass of milk, and then rest your head on your pre-fluffed pillows. Your heavy eyes shut and the tiredness takes you almost immediately, sucking you into a dreamless sleep.

"Good Morning, Sunny Graves here, and it's another lovely Monday morning. However, we have some serious news. A report has come to us early today that another mare has gone missing. Her name is Apple Cobbler, a local mare and beloved member of the Apple family. The Mayor, responding quickly, has already begun a search for her. It is believed that it is related to the other three disappearances, all which have occurred in the past six months—"

You break off your kiss with your new mare, the taste of citrus just barely overcoming the vague grit of chemical. It's about time for your shower.