Diary of Sweetie Belle, 19

February 13th
Dear Diary,

Today Rarity (and Momand Dad) can eat my shorts! Well, that’s just a proverb. But really, I’m gonna show them today. No more moping and doping over how laaaaaaaaame it’s been since Mom and Dad moved in. No siree, I’ve got two weeks of sobby pages of that to read ~~if I ever feel way too happy and have to bring my mo~~ nevermind, that’s just stupid. Anyway! Time to lay out the master plan.

If either of you are reading this… then I have no regrets! Really, though. You had better not be reading this, I don’t feel like being lectured on where to go and what to do. I’m nineteen, you guys. I’m about to be twenty. Actually, by when you’re reading this, I might be more than twenty, ~~because you probably won’t even~~ Master plan, Sweetie. Actually I thought again and this isn’t really a plan, this is more like a breakdown now that I think about it, not my cleanest entry, sorry Diary

Part 1: Rarity and my folks think I’m dating a guy and want to go out with him even though they won’t shut up about how dangerous it is to talk to strangers these days. Correct!

Part 1.5: They think I’m gonna sneak out to have a date on H&H, i.e. tomorrow, when they’re being lovey-dovey with their guys and girls. Incorrect!

Part 2: I’m going out right now because it’s Friday, so Rarity is out with her friends in Canterlot and my folks think I’m writing my new song. They don’t care for my stuff, so they won’t even notice I’m quiet.

Part 3: Honey’s gonna be meeting me at a nightclub on the other side of town, and I’m gonna make it like in the movies and teleport down out the window. Rarity can really eat my shorts, I’m not that bad at magic. I just need to focus. And I will! Toodles and smell you later, fossils!

Honey’s such a frickin’ sweetie. Sweetie! Honey and Sweetie. Gosh, we’re meant for each other, and my fossils wanna keep me on a leash. I’m not their pet, I’m an artist! And I’m a ~~mar~~ ~~lady~~ ~~gir~~ in a relationship! Ugh, they don’t get it. I’m not gonna be fresh forever, I’m not Rarity, and even she’s aged a little. Okay, now I’m totally dead, so I can write whatever.

I don’t understand how my folks don’t see it, I’m in the prime of my life, and they’re sheltering me like I’m three. Alright, fine, ponies are disappearing. Alright, fine, some of Rarity’s friends haven’t been around for a while, or answered any calls. But it’s like they’re all suddenly watching the TV, believing this stupid changeling stuff. They were there when that ~~Kree~~ Queen thing got blasted away. Those jerks haven’t been any trouble ever since. I swear, it’s like you’re obliged to shove a pole up your butt once you’re older than twenty.

~~Well, I’m not gonna wait~~ that ~~long to have stuff in my butt!~~ Okay Diary I’m seriously sorry this was really bad

And besides. We only talked on the Net, but gosh, Honey and me… I wrote this before, and I’ll write this now. Finally a guy with my kink! It’s so hard to find one these days, I should have been born first instead of Rarity, I swear! I’m literally the luckiest mare in Ponyville, cause that’s also literally the only guy in the area who’s into the tickles. Well, he writes about it upfront, anyway. It’s like it’s taboo to be into all that sorta stuff, like it’s still mainstream. Blockheads like these probably think they seem uncool because they’re into what was mega-popular a few years ago. Well hey, at least I’m getting a taste of the fickle audience before I get into the music world…

Anyway, Honey’s frickin’ perfect. Even moreperfect~~er~~ than Skybreeze was. I guess it’s a good thing he had to move away, cause Honey blows him out by a country mile! I a-d-o-r-e blondies, I like his moussey mane, he doesn’t dress like a tool, he looks so kind, and he’s so sooooooft! I can feel it on the pictures. I may actually die if I touch him, so if you find my lifeless body in The Araneum, you know the culprit. Cruel nature!

And his green eyes (we match!), and his smooth hands, and herehecomesohmygosh

XOXO
Svuelie Bele

…

“Oooh my gooosh!..” Sweetie squeaked to herself, cupping up her snout, getting up on the tippy-toes of her open high heels. He was exactly like on the pictures - actually, the bouncy, pulsing, pink-teal-yellow of The Araneums early evening strobes only gave him more flare. He probably couldn’t look not good even if he tried.

She adjusted her dress nervously, a failing endeavor, for halfway through, his oceanous-deep green eyes fell upon her. The preposterously cute stallion waved at her from his comfy seat in the corner of the club. Obviously, she skittered towards him, trying to disregard her freshly molten kneecaps. Considering Sweetie felt as if her entire body turned to highly impressionable clay the moment Honey did… anything at all, it was a source of pride that she managed her way over there without looking as if she’d been in an accident. That’d be horrible, he’d think she were weird!

“Um… hi!” she said, gladly not having reduced herself to a whisper. That was mostly the instinct one worked out after having dated a fair bunch of boys. The start of a first date was only awkward so many times in a row! Right now it was only as awkward as the rest of it. The good kind of awkward. She could tell Honey was the kind of stallion to catch her as she fumbles through the conversation and tuck her in warmly, into a topic they’d both be down with.

“Hi Sweetie,” he said warmly, his voice silky, just a bit boyish, but not a jock, more an attractive sort of boyishness one finds in a much milder personality. “You’re on time! I thought girls always had troubles with being on time.”

“Oh, Honey… I’m like, uh, fifteen minutes late, actually. Sorry to ruin myself so early, tee-hee!” Sweetie giggled.

He was great! A guy who gives you a chance to admit you screwed up, and do it in style, and be more charming in his eyes for it. He was either an absolute mind-reader and had a black belt in relationships, or he really was such a honey.

“Ah, geez!.. Well, that’s it,” the adorable dark orange earth ponyboy sighed with the cutest bout of mock sadness ever. “Date ruined forever. And I was just about to get us our drinks…”

The mare replied in kind, twirling a lock of her white and pink hair around her finger and pouting, casting forth fake tears onto her eyes.

“Bah. Guess I’m such a no-gooder, I need to save this relationship already. Hug?” he asked meekly, cheekily, tilting his head and smiling his pretty face off. It wasn’t too long at all until the two of them were on his side of the leathery couch, snuggling into each other with surprising comfort. It made sense, though. Honey was stupid soft, Sweetie wasn’t exactly repulsive either, and they had been somewhat acquainted already, through silly chats on the Net.

“Aaah!.. I’m gonna die, you’re so soooft!..” she whispered giddily. The only reason she was so subdued was that even for her, this level of success off the bat was unfathomed. The quickest time to hug at a date had so far been two hours for her. This was what, one minute?

“Aw, you’re so sweet. Is that why they called you Sweetie?” he asked in return, dutifully fulfilling pretty much every rule in the cuddler’s handbook. If there was anything wrong about this…

“I dunno. I know they called you Honey cause that’s what you are! Honey.”

“Nah, actually, I’m in the hive business. My full name’s Honey Pot.”

...it was that he seemed entirely too cute and cuddly to really, well, fulfill the extent of her kink. In frankness, she could easily imagine having tickle fun times with him. But the level to which her particular branch of it went? When she giggled after he announced his name so shyly, it wasn’t insensitivity or a stored up joke, it was her having thought of having him as her dom, wearing her out half to death, burning her lungs out raw, leaving her a sweaty wreck. That was just… wow!

“Yeah, I know. Dumb name. I like yours way more,” he admitted breathily, because in her excitement at having imagined at least half of what she’d just thought about, Sweetie’d given him quite the crush on the waist. Also, her shirt wasn’t anywhere near thick enough to hide how hard her nips had just gotten.

“Hoooney, your name’s just fine! You’re so nice, you know that?” she asked, laying on his chest already. “I mean, I’ve never gotten to cuddling with a guy this fast before. You got a magnet in there, huh?” The shirt he wore under his jacket was thin, so the weapons grade softness, exactly the level she preferred it, was spread all over her cheek. Was Princess Luna just messing with her and shoving everything she liked about guys in relationships into this? No, nevermind, she hasn’t been doing any dream monitoring for about a month now. Good, that meant this was real! No fakery here.

“Nope! But, don’t, don’t worry. I like it when mares do that. Shy girls… I’m… shy enough for two, y’know? Heh-heh. So I, well. You’re very nice, that’s what I mean. Also,” he stammered adorably, scratching his head. “Geez, I… I already feel kinda drunk. But! We’ve still got our drinks coming up. Yeah, there’s the waiter. Um, over here!”

Sweetie repositioned herself to be not ENTIRELY smooshed into her new boyfriend, and now was just halfway sitting in his lap. A waiter did indeed come, bringing about two fizzy drinks. They even sparkled with colors! That was cool.

“I’ll pay,” Honey propped up before Sweetie even thought about it. Okay, if he could, like, suddenly turn into a cruel kink monster as soon as they got into the bedroom, they could just go down a few blocks and buy the ring now.

Having procured the drinks, and basking in each other’s company, as well as the club’s unces and strobes, the two of them breathed in the hazy vapor of the cocktails.

“Well… this has been really good so far. So… Here’s to things only getting better, wilder and crazier, I guess!” The unicorn said happily, grasping the bubbly cup with her dainty, manicured fingers, and taking a sip.

“Yep. Here’s to a long, fruitful relationship.”

It was only a few gulps that she took of the liquid before the mare needed a bit of a cough. Rough stuff. Really rough. Well, that’s a nightclub for you. It was good though. It was… nice. Honey was soft. He probably wouldn’t mind if she just… laid in his lap for a few minutes. She probably babbled out something to that effect, so he’d understand. She wanted to kick off her shoes, give them both a bit of a pander, but her body felt… too heavy.

Yeah, just a few minutes…

---

February 14th
Dear Diary,

I’m really ~~fu~~ unhappy with myself right now. This is so weird. I’m scared. ~~This place is kind of~~ This is weird, this is weird, this is weird and I want to

I’ve calmed down. I guess it’s a good thing I was in a rush and accidentally pulled you into my bag when I went to meet that guy, Diary, because apparently, I gotta do this. They say I’m a “good pony” for having led a diary. So apparently I can just keep writing in this one, there’s no harm. ~~I~~ ~~don’t~~ ~~fuc~~ ~~get~~ ~~them~~ ~~They’re not~~ nevermind

So I’m really freaked out. I’ve calmed right now… but I’m freaked out. This isn’t good.

I got kidnapped.

It’s all in such a haze… It was the best date of my life, ever! And, even after what happened after… I think back to it and it’s still nice. Honey. Well, screw you, Honey Pot, I guess. Because I don’t get this! This ~~shouldn’t~~ is weird… As if I need to put that on paper. Actually, I think I do… Most of my brain’s going on and on about it. Yeah, I will break things down for myself. My mind’s full of all sorts of stuff right now, I gotta concentrate, so here goes. Memory, go.

So, it was all going really great, and then… The classic. Spiked my drink. I guess there wasn’t anybody in the club at that early hour, so nobody gave a damn he hauled me out? Not like I know how he got me out of there, actually. I woke up here. Yeah, I’ll note down what ‘here’ is. Maybe my brain will stop being dumb at me.

I’m in a… hotel, I guess? This isn’t ~~that~~ a hovel for a harem of sex girls or something. I’m pretty sure I’ve got all my organs, too… My room is pretty big. Bigger than what I’ve got at home. Kinda richer too, I guess? More luxurious. Not really posh, but there is style here. Like a woodland inn. Only without the outdated stupid stuff, everything is clean, kempt, not really new, but not old either. I’m pretty sure that if I were kidnapping ponies, I’d not I don’t know. Everything smells of pine and something like a bittersweet, but in a good way. Yeah, I would have really liked it here, this is really nice. Only, you know. Kidnapped. Doors don’t open. Walls hum if you bang against them. Windows don’t break. Horn’s all limp. I got kidnapped. I got I gotta get my thoughts together.

This isn’t all that has me ~~confu~~ troubled. This isn’t a hotel. Honey’s here too, he is. He works here. A bunch of them work here. Kinda biting myself, thinking back to yesterday. Because my folks, Rarity and her friends, they were right to be afraid of the changelings. This is them. No conspiracy here, this is real life. Kinda doesn’t feel like it, but it is. This place is very far away from any major pony settlement, they say. It’s a huge, massive compound where they keep their most important ~~kidnapees~~ ~~victims~~ captives. My windows are just above the tops of a huge forest of pines, and I see mountains just a few miles away. Geography was never my forte… They obviously won’t tell me anything, either.

About them. The changelings… They… I don’t know, if I’m honest. ‘They’ is the one changeling I got to meet so far. Her and ~~Hon~~ that ~~bast~~ jerk came by soon after I woke up and started panicking. This is the part where I need you, Diary, and I’m real sorry I keep striking stuff out, my mind is just really not tuned for this sort of stuff. I tried to think logically, and, I dunno, I guess I’m right, judging by what they said - I’m an important pony, the sister of one of the Element Bearers, good for their collection, and they do feed on positive emotions, so there is no point keeping me in a crawlspace. Worked my memory kinda hard… Changelings would either insert into pony society, or drain us of our emotions ~~clande~~ without kidnapping us. What I don’t think I understand is why they want me to like it so much.

Cause, Diary, using logic is actually really hard right now. This smell… this place… and them… This is so weird. This is so, so weird. When they came in…

…

Sweetie pressed hard into the finewood corner of her room, having heard the hissing and the pressing of the mechanisms that used to keep the ornate door shut tight. She had spent the past twenty minutes panicking, gasping, scrounging, screaming, throwing expensive-looking things at the walls, and otherwise expressing the stark dissonance between falling asleep in a new lover’s lap and waking up somewhere you’ve never been before. Her mind was, colloquially speaking, or, more correctly, how Scootaloo would say, “full of fuck”. Therefore, she stood, in her light pink night gown she’d never owned before, trying to meld with the corner, and stretched her arms in front of herself, holding a fancy goblet as if it were a firearm. The unicorn’s teeth chattered, and her oddly thoroughly combed mane was starting to sprinkle into her eyes, strand by strand.

Soft footsteps came gently down the orangely lit hallway that connected the bedroom, the bathroom, the shower room, the kitchen, and two other rooms she hadn’t quite explored in her wakeup fright. The floorboards creaked quietly. When she saw a shape in the doorframe - the door itself was peculiarly missing - Sweetie managed to push into the corner just one last physically possible inch. When she told that shape apart in detail, her knees went weak and her hands dropped the luxurious goblet, which thudded against the floor, nearly threatening to crack. An instinctive, relaxed sigh left her throat, and her lips curled into an autonomous smile. The mere sight of the dark orange earth pony instilled a sense of acute comfort in her mind, it being awash with fuzzy memories. A breathy sniff that got rid of the last of the sobby moisture in her snout, also happened to carry in the smell of pine and wood, one that only a noseless pony could call anything but homely.

The mare went aspaz only when Honey Pot was just about to approach her, jazzy, hug-ready hands reaching out for her shaken up body, his mouth muttering gentle words of comfort and other such sweet hushes. The reminder of the thought that she’d been quite clearly kidnapped, and this was the guy who did it, found its way from the dovey goop her mind gladly dunked itself in.

“GETAWAYFROMMEYOUCREEP!!!” Sweetie Belle squawked, swinging at her severely questionable boyfriend, without any real aim. It ended with a slap on his shoulder, wrinkling up the casual green shirt he wore. Honey pouted and sighed, ears drooping.

“Sweetie… calm down!.. We’re not gonna hurt you! Shhh,” he spoke in an ever so slightly louder tone, actually getting through her heavy layer of jittering tension. Now she simply stared at him with plate dish eyes, one of her shoulders on its way to becoming part of the building’s foundation.

“W-who the f-FUCK are “we”??? What am I doing here? Get me out of here NOW,” the unicorn offered a barrage of mumbling questions and demands.

“Hush,” the stallion whispered sharply, yet gently, the hiss of the sibilants making the mare’s spine chill up a little. “Be calm. You’ll be staying here for a while. It’s very nice in here. We’re very, very nice. You can… You can punch me if that will make you feel calmer.” Honey took a step forward and raised his arms, looking Sweetie straight in the eyes. His own identically green pair was glistening, his eyebrows were at a slight incline, and his ears were droopy still. He kept a stoic facial expression, but it took only a bit of attention to discern how pulled-on it was.

Excited at the opportunity at first, Sweetie Belle began to fumble as her mind began to process all of this. She was mad at him, of course she was! But he was so nice, and he was so sad, and he was so genuine… She wanted out of here, and he was a complete creep! But even the thought of delivering any pain onto Honey made her gut scrunch up. She wanted home, now, pronto! But it felt so nice in here, as soon as she disregarded the thought, it was more like a surprise vacation, not a horrible kidnapping… And home honestly kinda sucked anyway. But it did so because they were afraid this exact thing would happen.

Overwhelmed with the sheer mental weight of this all, Sweetie, having simply wished to get into a nice, soft, cuddly, ideally occasionally cruel relationship, slowly slumped down on her knees and began to bawl, quietly so. She raised her arms to cover up her face, spreading the sniffles and the tears all over. No makeup was damaged, despite her having lathered herself in it that evening. As her body began to rock back and forth, Honey took her into a tight, fuzzy hug, stabilizing her. His snout pecked lightly at her folded ears.

“Yeah. Enough of the waterworks already. These walls don’t like frowns,” a harsh, raspy female voice spoke from the doorframe, causing the mare to hiccup in her light sobbing, and the stallion to strengthen the hug to prevent her from jerking too much. He hushed on into her ears, softening the impact of another presence in this alien place. “Alright, Honey! Not being a liar is good. Good pony.”

Honey Pot’s very subtle whisper of “Thank you” went mostly unnoticed. The mare had managed to get her eye open, having had enough leakage for the time being. It peeked just high up enough to be able to see the intruder of their privacy, while the other was closed and snug in the stallion’s facial fuzz.

It was a mare. A pegasus in a form-fitting top that left a good string of grey flesh exposed, with its abdominal cubicles and pierced belly. A tall wave of white hair on her head, moussed to the right. Spiked bracers on the wrists, poking out of the pockets of her black shorts, wherein she kept her hands. She would have been just about any punkish clubgoer one’d see, for instance, at the fateful Araneum itself, if not for one detail. The changeling only bothered so much with the disguise. The eyes glowed a blurry amber, and from the upper and lower jaws each poked out a fang. All around her, the blur persisted as well - parts of the wooden walls wobbled, with varying frequencies, in the air. The fake pegasus’ grin widened and showed Sweetie all of its fangs once the amber eye caught her staring. Within a shake of the head and the patting of the moussed mane, the mare in the door frame was ‘normal’, and for lack of wobbling to examine, she moved into the bedroom, whistling at the interior.

“Would not have wanted to give a Masochist Sector chamber to some priss that just looks like the real thing. Or if you dragged her in here by force. You remember Subtle, Honey-puppy? Yeah, of course you do.” Both ponies stared at the changeling that, within the few seconds she was in the room, felt more than fitting standing tall and proud where she was - and them, huddled, broken up in the corner. The stallion’s grip strengthened by a mere degree of strength at the mention of another pony’s name. “Aaalright… Enough lollygagging. Honey, you get a treat. Nice pony.” She brushed his mane, leaving it rather frazzled. Sweetie found comfort in how cute it looked. “Sweetie? Welcome to the compound! You’re gonna be staying here a nice, long while. Me and Honey will be taking care of you. If Honey fucks up, I’ll be taking care of him.” No extensive reaction followed, the mare simply grinned. The stallion hugged her into a sitting position, having the two of them be side by side in the corner while the changeling towered over them, giving Sweetie’s bed a slight kick.

“...who are you?” the unicorn mustered.

“You can call meee…” the pegasus rolled her eyes and clacked her tongue, producing a somewhat disturbing, slightly insectoid noise. “Aaaauuuckkhhh… Hnnnmmm… Lea— No… Ah. Tough Break. Yeah, that works.”

“But… um… all this?..”

“Oh, this? Didn’t your elder sister tell you? Y’know… oh, how long ago was it. Nine years ago, I think. Sweetie, we’re changelings! You’re such a smartie, you’ve already noticed I am. Don’t poke Honey, he’s not a real changeling. He’s a honorary member of the hive.”

“...”

Tough Break flexed and gave one last grinning look-over of the interior, poking eyes at the stallion. She headed for the door, keeping a forearm in front of herself and pinging at parts of it with a finger, as if operating something otherwise invisible.

“And if you’re lacking common ground with that tub of blubber, well, be sure, girl. You’re gonna have that in common… eventually. When we want you to.” The pegasus snarled in amusement, peeking out the doorframe for one last icy bite at the two ponies inside. “I trust you enough to do the physical examination yourself, Honey-puppy. Don’t frickin’ kill her, you vicious animal, you. Heee-heheheheheeeh!”

The doors hissed and clanked open, and then back closed. Honey’s hand patted her gently on the back of the head. Before she knew it, the two of them were on the bed, and he cuddled into her, whispering hushed tones of calmness. Sweetie was in a bit of a stupor, accepting the hug heartily and trying to get rid of the mental image of the half-changed Tough Break out of her mind. Changelings… Changelings. How did this… how?..

“Come on. It’s all gonna be fine. She’s… It’s an act. You know? To push your buttons.”

“Yeah… I know, I… I know.” Surprisingly, she did.

“See? You don’t need to worry, she doesn’t mean it… Well, I mean, they can be hard to deal with, you know?”

“U… uhuh.” The unicorn pressed harder into him. Her lower lip trembled, her eyes darted a little.

“Don’t think about it too much, Sweetie. It’s only gonna make it feel worse… it’s not that bad though! I mean, I… well, this isn’t that bad a place, you know?”

“No I guess not…” she mumbled incoherently into his shoulder.

“I never had a room like this before I, um, met them. So it’ll all be fine! I’m still in one piece, see? And I’ll be here for you, in one piece.” The stallion put her in his lap, gently fixing up her wrinkled pajamas. “But, you know. Let’s get rid of all these nasty thoughts. Staying here isn’t all bad, not at all, you don’t even know!”

“I’m… I’m really overwhelmed right now,” Sweetie said in an unsteady voice, her mind overwhelmed quite truly indeed. With precarious ponderings.

“I understand. And I can help! I’ll be back in just a minute.” He departed the bed, leaving behind a gaping, cold void, one that the mare quickly tried to make up for by rolling on the bed while hugging herself. “Please… don’t… try to break anything, or you might hurt yourself accidentally.” Her mind was only so distracted, however. It thought of the pushing of the buttons.

Because it worked. Her attention did not fail her. The word “Masochist” was clearly there. Inside, it scared her. But deeper yet? It… amazed her. Excited. She was still young, and, of course, only had that much understanding of her kinks. However, it seemed all the less jokey and all the more likely that when her innards heated up at promises of… roughness… of… borderline abuse… it wasn’t something to be merely ignored. Her trembling mind was perspiring with realizations. Honey was into one kink. And they knew of the other. And… they… wouldn’t truly, really harm her. Changelings didn’t work this way.

This wasn’t that ba—

“What the fuuuuuuaaaaaaghhhh!!!...” Sweetie whisper-screamed to herself, digging her filed fingernails into her temples at the thoughts she was having. Hello, girl! You’ve been kidnapped! By one of Equestria’s greatest enemies, now resurging! They’re gonna sexually abuse you for days, and they’re keeping your faux-boyfriend to break your will! Heyooo, is this how little it takes?! You’re not gonna be seeing home terribly soon, not unless they’re already after you - and you’re probably wherever all the missing ponies were going, and that includes some very, very important ones!

So what to do then, fight him and try to sneak out? Her fists clenched, and immediately went limp. That’d be absolutely stupid, and it also made her hurt a little. No, no. Her mind floated around. She’d only read this in books and seen this in movies. And in there… well, she wasn’t a secret service agent, the defenses weren’t hilariously bad… Meaning she either stayed there or… Tried to garner sympathy from within and escaped. Yeah. Yeah, that’d work! Honey is… Honey! Yeah! Genius. Did not drive self insane pondering, got straight to the point. And who called her an airhead?

Sweetie was all sorts of strung up and excited, and now only slightly confused, sitting up on the bed. Just get friendly with them. And figure something out. The heroes usually did. Well, whenever the story didn’t pan to somebody else who then had to rescue them. That was entirely too much thinking. She focused on the now, and found it rather easy, being fit in snug pinkish pyjamas, sitting on a puffy bed in a nice woodland inn, breathing in refreshing scents, and having an objectively fuzzy, squishy, overall adorable guy for her ‘torturer’. Yeah, not so bad! Could have been worse. So long as they don’t ruin her sex stuff forever.

His and her smiles met when he walked in, as things got significantly better for both parties involved. Honey seemed all pleasantly ablush and stammering at the sight o Sweetie’s significantly relaxed posture and smile. Sweetie’s smile, in turn, got rather uppity, and her face got quirkily curioused, a hand reaching up to touch her “o”-shaping lips, at the sight of what the stallion had brought in.

“Ooohooh… Ooh… Uuummm. Well. Heeh… Oh geez.”

The mattress trampoline that was her thought space at the moment finally had its fifty ton anvil make the drop and cease the constant bouncing back and forth. It was inevitable, her unsuredness and general anxiety peeling away - to hopelessness, to submission, to logic as per plan, or to general excitement. This was the third.

“Yep, Sweetie. See, this isn’t… all that bad, y’know?”

Now, she personally preferred darker, leathery bindings on the cuffs - a pair of which her caretaker brought in - and generally got off more on dark, strict bondage. However, she would not be found criticizing the fuzzy handcuffs that were already being softly clasped around her hands, which the mare let slide between the thick, conveniently padded frames of the bed. It also escaped her that she’d been turned around on that bed, her head at the foot. Sweetie really wasn’t much for continuity or overly rational thought when in high spirits - and the unfulfilled nature of her desires was such that they automatically instilled veritable happiness within her. An anvil indeed.

“Iii guess!” Her lips trembled a little as she smiled nervously. Most of it was playful anxiety. A few percent were relegated to thoughts that were not only forced out of her system - they had no chance of getting through.

“See, it’s alright. Let me give you our welcome. Hm?” Honey smiled just wide enough for Sweetie’s eyes to tear up. She breathed rapidly through her nose, as she had a tendency to do when excited, inhaling the acute scent of pine, body, and perhaps slightly amplified rousal.

There was nothing she could reply with but squeal, and her deeper mind automatically went dark. Sweetie Belle’s awakeness had been reset, and the first thing she encountered while conscious was a fantasy.

Gentle, yet nimble fingers did away with the buttons of her pajamas' top. Bared legs, soft to the point of sensation resonance, rubbed against hers as Honey knelt on top of her - a position that, sans clothes, would give way for something significantly more vanilla. But they were on, and even the top kept its topmost buttons, cheekily keeping the mare’s hardening nipples concealed, to a greater degree than the stallion’s visible bulge underneath the shorts, at least. Heavy breathing filled the room, and all of it was hers.

“Heeey… don’t be so agitated!” he said, pulling on a strikingly forced cheeky smirk that seemed to revolt against the fluffy pureness of the rest of his face. “I come in peace.” The stallion cracked his fingers demonstratively - or would have, if his fingers made anything more than a weak shlinking sound. Sweetie giggled at the conundrous sight, going back to heaving and puffing once they returned to her body.

In fact, breathing was all there was for about a minute, as his fingers dexterously began to prod and patter at her exposed, slender, intensely heaving tummy. She just couldn’t make any more coherent, obviously joyful noises, this was too much, too good. Not in length, of course, in that regard it merely began - but in how it went about. The warm, soft fingers gained just enough harshness for proper purchase of her supple skin, soon moving on from pattering to gentle, swift scrabbling, which left a fuzzier feeling left all over her. Her mouth was open in perpetuity, and her hands fiddled intensely in the funky cuffs they’d been secured into. If it was only her face that was visible, it’d be easy to assume she was either scared and screaming for her life, or having a very intense orgasm. As a matter of fact, Sweetie was nearly silent, puffing and heaving, incapable of producing a noise that accurately reflected her euphoria. Really, however, what was being done to her was a gentle, calculated tattering, poking, prodding, and fuzzy scrabbling.

“...!!!...!...?!?!?... …” The mare’s lips moved, still restrained to an increasingly widening smile, but little more than bare screeps and squeaks left her throat.

“Oh?.. Are you trying to tell me something?..” he said, drawing his words out softly, gently jabbing his fingers into her sides, and getting only a series of pitched peeps in return. “Stop being like that!.. I wanna know what’s in your head.”

It was this exact scenario in her head - for weeks, months, years, and never once coming to fruition. If she were in any more of a thinking state of mind? She’d have recognized that the events were going down all but exactly how she wished they would, at least on days when her fantasizing didn’t take harsher, darker turns. The pink happy puppy fuzzy flower bouncy bubble ditzy disco in her mind was on what seemed to be a perpetual power supply. If Pinkie Pie were aware of this, she’d probably be either jealously happy, or happily jealous. This was something else!

“...AAA...aaa…!!!”

“Don't be like that! You won’t trick me that easily, Sweetie,” he waved a finger in front of her, resting it on the tip of her puffing snout. “You’re not broken yet. Come on, stop being cooky, use your voicebox for me!”

Sweetie’s docile state was steadily being wiped away. Honey wasn’t being cruel, but he was progressing from his usual softness. He began to really test the waters of her sacred kink. The earthy began to jab and dig in far harder, his fingers surprisingly pleasant to the touch even when they dug in quite deep, shaving off the bits of discomfort that came with your sides being squeezed, your ribs being xylophoned, your belly button being swirled inside of, or your breasts being grabbed. She’d gone vocal at that.

“Found your sound button! Two of them,” he declared, cocking his head. “Sweetie’s fixed again…”

Her eyes were finally capable of telling shapes apart, and what they saw was a conspiratorily smirking Honey Pot. He looked like a cartoon cat with that mischievous grin, and, as such, did little to entice any discomfort in her. She squealed and whined playfully as his palms grasped her pair of C’s in ways they’d not once been touched before. Tiny tears began to streak out the corners of her eyes. If euphoria were a substance, she was being overdosed with it.

“Nnnnmmmhhhh… HowwwareyooouuuuaaaaAAAH! Yyyooouuu… OhIdont… OhIdooohooohooont…” she babbled in heavy gasps, interlaced with squeaks, speaking out a word per breast grab, going back into squealing at other pokings. “Yooou’re… S… IDUNNOOO!”

“Hm? What about me? Is there something on my fa— oh, you don’t knooow… fine,” he smiled at her, continuing with his procedure, getting harsher with time. As harsh as someone like him could be, anyway.

Honey was way better than that punk-haired stud she kept putting into her fantasies, for lack of better imagination.

“...nnnnNNNUUOOOGH… bhhaaah, oh, you, FFFHHHAAH!” the mare’s own grin took on an inkling of a playful scowl - his hands had found their way into the armpits. With little more than his warm breathing to stimulate more vocal responses out of her mammaries, she resorted to moany giggling. “Oohoh, you, fruuuh!”

Having found a solid, keeper spot, the stallion leaned over her. For some time he merely stayed there, inadvertently making very suggestive motions with his pelvis. His fingers only grazed the taut, spotless skin of her underarms to keep her spiked and on edge. They gazed into each others' eyes, and it was safe to say that his were by far the more sober and aware, Sweetie’s threatening to start spitting sparks any moment. Capturing the opportunity, he went for the next best thing that could start spitting sparks - his lips clasped against the tip of the unicorn’s species-titular horn.

“...HHHSSS!!!” Despite the soft, meddling fingers, all Sweetie could do in response to that was to harshly suck in air, attempting a gasp.

Perhaps wishing her to keep that gasp, he rested his hands, appropriately so. The breast grab was far harder this time, and he held on much tighter with his legs, for the mare arched her back with a squeal that started out loud, and then slipped back into bedazzled silence. The intense arching died down more and more with every inch his mouth made down the swirly, pearl-white shaft, his tongue working gently against the nervous protrusion. To his major credit, he kept on going, working his tongue against the entire length, suckling in the taffy taste of the natural moisture, even when it did indeed began to sparkle, ticklishly heating the roof of his mouth.

Finally, he was heaving too. The stallion retracted from the horn when the sparks got to the point that indicated an impending release. Sweetie wouldn’t have known that, then again, there was very little she knew right now, not even that her face was beginning to hurt from how much smiling she was doing. She lay there on her back and panted, gazing strivingly into her boyfriend’s eyes, waiting for his next move. Another bout of giggles emerged from her throat as he himself smiled, sweet and comfy, and gave her snout a tug with one hand, continuing to poke and pull at it while the other wandered all over her exposed abdomen, ever so gently spidering everywhere notable.

“Look at you… you like it here, huh? Yeah, you do…” he babbled and whispered, caressing and harassing her ears with the tone of his voice. “Giggle if you’re a good puppy… good puppy!”

She was smiling her face off and had shut her eyes in joy soon enough, and the joy was such that she scarcely noticed the warm weight lift off her legs. It was reapplied shortly - the other way around. A pair of feet in pretty yellow socks hugged her generously poked sides.

“...are… are you… hhff… ohmygoshohmygooosh…” the mare part-spoke part-whispered part-lipped. Her mouth spread into a wobbling smile, and her arms, for lack of operable hands, instinctively covered up her face with the lbows. “SsssSSSssssQQQUUEEEE!!!”

It was too much to keep in, after all, when step after step, her fantasies started to come true, in spite of any other events. The stallion had his back toward her, his tail swinging off the side of the bed in a considerable, non-tummy-harassing gesture. Her tummy had had enough. But another, significantly more important - to her nethers, at least - bodypart wasn’t. A pair of them, rather.

The occasion spoke volumes on her part - hearing Honey was a bit difficult over the noises she began to put out. The occasion was simple, in that he did such a marvelous job of fulfilling her so far, that she forgot that the main dish was not yet served. It being her feet. Sweetie Belle was a rather unabashed owner of a foot fetish, something more than a little bit common. It was, however, a very handy accessory when one also found exuberant sexual joy in tickling and other stimulations.

“Hey… these socks suit you. Sorry to take them off…” he said with mock regret of such quality, it could almost be believed. The socks were good, in fact, striped pink and white, almost better than the ones she wore at home, and those were Rarity-made. “You’re free to rant at me in your diary. Tell it all the nasty words… or my feelings will get hurt, and I’ll have to be mean. It’ll go something like this...”

The socks were only halfway off, and yet the first graze of his fingertips against her smooth heels caused a tad of wet to splooge onto the pyjama pants. Then came the moment when those fingers came into formal ownership of her scrunching, decently sized, well cared-for, scrunching feet. Immediately, her pants were graced with such an exertion of goop that even Honey’s shorts didn’t seem to have ended up safe. The mare was hearing the sea in her ears for a good few minutes afterward, incapable of hearing even her own increasingly whiny, moany laughter as he refused to give her a full break for reasons of climax.

His fingers appeared even more apt for the teasing and the appropriating of her supple soles than even her tummy, which was a statement in and of itself. Her first relatively conscious, coherent thought was that it was, indeed, true, that one got far more sensitive after an orgasm, especially one performed hands-free. Honey’s was as loving and as teasing as it’d ever been, but now it was as if someone stuck his tail in the socket - and his fingertips were cartoonishly conducting the electricity on to her. It was absolutely gripping.

Five minutes into lazy dragging around her soles, and finally she was more or less back there. She knew that - but didn’t know how her boyfriend found out.

“Heeey… stop being so loud at me!.. I barely touched yooou,” he complained. “Oh, if you’re going to scream at me, I guess I might as well.”

The fact she was back meant they could go on with the fun she’d been waiting for most of her life. Clearly, he seemed to share the opinion. His warm, soft fingers found their way easily into her as of yet untouched toes. Sweetie gasped and pealed with laughter just as she thought she would in all those fantasies, perhaps even a little harder. The fantasies rushed in and in, on and on, soaking her consciousness in the dreams fulfilled and dreams yet to be. This was so incredibly on point… And for having ticked off a mere tenth of all she’d dreamed up to go through, this was already the best experience she could bodily recall. It was opious, bedazzling. Never would she get to feel that at home.

And as the teasing and the soft taunting continued, somehow the thought of home kept reappearing and reemerging. It would not be until a few hours later, when Honey was finally done, and had to pull himself out of a very slurpy, wet kiss, and deal with a puppy-like Sweetie who didn’t want him to leave, that this sincere happiness wore off. The mare could tell when it did.

The walls of her bedrooms ceased to hum and rumble with the invisible devices that had been working their due all the while. The mare was prostrate on the bed for some time, top unbuttoned, gentle pinewood breeze caressing her moist shape, her diary brushed off dust and laying on the night stand, socks put together neatly on the side of the bed, cuffs returned to the room they originated from, pyjama pants pulled off to the knees...
…

I’m really trying, Diary. It was so ~~won~~ good. I’ve never really had real experience with this, and… Why did it have to be like this? In here? I’m having such a hard time keeping my thoughts together. I know I have to hang on. Not gonna let myself slip. Promise you. Yeah, keep watch of me, Diary, and slap me if I ever start to veer off. Alrighty?

At least I’ll have decent dreams today, I guess. Gosh, I’m still giggling. I had no clue it was actually this ~~awe~~ nice. I made myself feel better just thinking this! Yeah. I’m gonna try and be like this when I write. No more feisty scribbling. They could have been way meaner to me. This was just like… Well, you would know. I’d flip back a bunch of pages and read that stuff I wrote back then, but I’d get embarrassed. It was as if they read that and didn’t stab their eyes out! There I go. Thinking positive. So long as it’s like this, I am gonna be able to ~~get o~~ hang on.

XOXO
Sweetie Belle