You sit at the counter of a dive bar on the outskirts of Trottingham, slowly sipping away at your whisky in an attempt to forget about your narrow escape from Ponyville and the experiences within.
The door to the seedy tavern swings open and, as you have done habitually no thanks to Twilight, suspiciously eye up the figure standing in the door frame. Despite the chilly temperature tonight, a light-blue mare weakly strides in wearing a thin cloak. Her head hangs despondently, the hood obscuring most of her face. You can just see her light-blue mane peek out from under the hood. You know her to be a mare just by looking at her lithe frame hidden under the light fabric, and her coat colour because the cloak didn’t completely cover all of her.
The mare approaches the bar as you watch her out of the corner of your eye. Coming up to the stools, she flicks her head back, the hood continuing the motions until it lays across her back, revealing her horn and soft, lavender eyes. Catching sight of you, her eyes widen and she staggers back a couple steps. She clears her throat and promptly takes a seat at the very end of the bar, leaving exactly three stools between the two of you.
You roll your eyes and snort derisively as you finish off your drink, signalling for the bartender to pour you another. At last you could feel the hazy euphoria creeping its way into your mind.
Still watching the newcomer from the corner of your eye, she hails the bartender by silently and briefly raising her hoof. The stallion in question moves down to her and she orders a drink, though you couldn’t hear what. You watch as the bartender grabs a bottle of Everfree Everclear, and your eyes widen. That alcohol is at least ninety-percent pure! Curiosity piqued, you watch as the stallion pours one shot for the mare, wherein she promptly downs it and grimaces slightly at the strength.
Your eyes widen in rapt amazement. Usually when ponies go for something that stiff, there’s usually something inside them they’re trying to kill, be it memories or regrets. Besides themselves, that is.
Usually.
The mare taps her hoof on the counter, and the bartender leaves the bottle on the oak surface. It only had a few mouthfuls left, so it didn’t really matter. Having come here a few days after you arrived in town, you’d noticed how he often did that. The mare levitates out a small pouch from her saddlebags hidden by her cloak and puts enough money on the table to pay for the rest of it. Pouring herself another drink, but slowly sips this one.
Her head slumps on the counter as she brings the glass to her lips at an awkward angle, noticing you looking at her.
“What?” she snaps.
“Geez,” you remark, giving her the stink eye. “With a look that sour I’d think someone was force-feeding you lemons.”
“Hah!” she loudly quips, sipping her drink. “Are your anecdotes as bad as you are ugly?”
“That depends. Are your manners as bad as your attitude?”
She scowls fiercely, turning away from you. A member of the opposite sex with an attitude as snarky as yours? You could get used to it.
You still keep watching her, mostly to see how long it’d take for her to notice.
You pivot on the stool to give yourself a better look at the mare, even though it was just her mane, back and cloak. Your eyes roam down her form, taking in all that wasn’t covered by the cloak. You could see her so-called ‘cutie mark’; a wavy tuft of magic overlapped by a wand. If Twilight’s “special talent” was magic, was this mare’s must be something similar. Regardless, you couldn’t help but look at her with genuine intrigue at how she ended up in a dive bar like this. You know for a fact that this place doesn’t serve the most reputable characters, you being one of them, but thankfully word of your... hasty departure from Ponyville hadn’t found its way this far north.
Yet.
It takes the mare several minutes to finish off the remainder of the bottle, puzzling you as to how she could drink something that strong so quickly. You signal the bartender, whose name you hadn’t bothered to learn, and gesture toward the mare, saying; “Give her another one on me.” He shrugs indifferently and pulls a weaker spirit off the shelf behind him, then half fills a whisky glass. He takes it down to the mare drowning her sorrows.
You watch the exchange take place: The stallion plops the glass down in front of the lonesome pony then gestures towards you with a flick of his head, and the mare turns to look at you in confusion. She hesitantly shuffles up the bar and takes the seat next to you.
“Pardon Trixie for sounding ungrateful, but why did you buy her a drink after she was rude to you?”
You shrug. “You look like you needed it.” So, Trixie is her name? And did she just refer to herself in the third person? She must be drunker than you thought.
“Trixie thanks you for the drink, and apologises for her rude behaviour.”
“Don’t sweat it, I’m used to it by now.”
She grimaces slightly. “That bad, huh?”
“Trixie, you have no idea. But since we’re on speaking terms, why don’t you tell me how you ended up in a hell-hole like this?”
She sips her drink. “Have you heard of Trixie Lulamoon, travelling magician?”
Magician? So that’s what her cutie mark must mean. “Can’t say I have. Should I know who you are?”
She lets out a relieved sigh. “Trixie is glad somepony hasn’t,” she says in a bitter-sweet manner. “Though, why haven’t you heard of her?”
“Being kept prisoner tends to take up a lot of your time,” you say dryly.
“You’re a convict?!” she exclaims in a hushed manner, eyes widening. Her eyes dart around the bar to make sure nobody else heard.
“Strictly speaking, no, I’m not. It’s a long story.”
“When you’re a travelling magician with a history of notoriety, time is the one thing you’ve got.”
You eye her up. “You want the long or the short of it?”
“Short, for now.”
“Right... It all began the day I wandered out of the Everfree Forest nursing a broken arm, hadn’t eaten in four days, slept very little, no fucking clue how I got where I was or how I got there… You get the picture. Some freaky pink mare accosts me when I was wandering into Ponyville, and—”
“Ponyville!?” she says, aghast. “Do you know of Twilight Sparkle?”
You snort contemptuously. “That’s who kept me locked up.”
“Twilight Sparkle kept you prisoner?!”
“Here’s the deal. I was in the local hospital for a month in the intensive care unit after that pink pony found me. Twilight volunteered to take me to her place to recuperate, but the only available room was in the basement. Next to her laboratory.” You take a longer draw of your drink. “And before you ask, she didn’t mention anything about you.”
“Trixie should be grateful for that, at least.”
“Because of my alien nature, my kind wasn’t protected by any known laws. Several weeks of experimentation, putting it lightly, I managed to escape. Been on the run since, and for good reason.”
She grimaces. “Trixie extends her sympathies.”
You smile slightly. “Thanks, I guess.”
“May Trixie inquire as to… what happened?”
“Let me put it this way. Where I come from, a lot of movies and shows depict aliens probing humans to learn what they can. Twilight got rather overzealous.”
“Trixie only can imagine…” she says with a wrinkled muzzle.
“I don’t understand why she insisted on probing my backside. What did she think she was to learn? How to harvest farts?” Trixie’s eyes widen and she tries to stifle a giggle.
“Fortunately for me, she learned that the hard way exactly why you don’t do that sort of thing.”
She grimaces retrospectively. “How bad did you give it to her?”
“Right in her face,” you say with a shit-eating grin, Trixie snorting with laughter.
“A toast to the humiliation of Twilight Sparkle!” Trixie slurs, raising her glass. You both clink your glasses and take a large swig. Yeah, maybe this is the last drink for you. Pony liquor tends to be a bit more hard hitting. For you, at least.
“So what’s your beef with Twilight?” you inquire.
“One day, Trixie was scheduled to perform a show in town. The performance was going smoothly, then that… that mare! She and her friends insist on showing-up Trixie!”
“That’s what got your panties in a twist?” you say with a teasing smile.
“No!” she immediately defends, her face absolutely beyond flushed. “Towards the end of the performance, Trixie was performing high-level magic tricks. That rainbow-maned one, the farm pony, and Twilight herself stole the limelight! All three humiliated Trixie, and she was laughed out of town!”
You laugh loudly at that. “Sister, at least you weren’t violated by medical instruments day after day.”
“That was only the tip of the iceberg,” Trixie amends, seemingly ignoring you. “Don’t even get me started when I returned to town…”
After persuading Trixie with another drink while you drank a glass of water, she began to tell you of the Alicorn Amulet: some freaky necklace that corrupted Trixie’s magic, but your jaw dropped when she told you that she essentially tried to enslave the whole of Ponyville.
When her story comes to a close, you say; “Look, from a position of indifference, I don’t really care about that crap. Problems start when you make the decision to fuck me over.”
“I take it you gave Twilight the what-for?” she asks with a knowing smirk.
You return the grin, but somewhat crookedly. “Yeah, she got a taste of her own medicine in every sense of the word. I didn’t stick around long after that. Hiked the train tracks until I managed to climb on a train at a random platform, stayed on for as long as I could, and wound up here.” Despite your inebriation, you could still hold a conversation. “I mean for fucks sake, this psychotic purple cunt treated me like a lab experiment without a second thought!”
She scoffed. “After Trixie’s ordeal, work is difficult to come by. Ponies don’t want someone performing tricks when you’ve tried to enslave an entire town. But, Trixie relishes when someone betters her rivals,” she says with a grin wider than it should have been. “Ugh… What’s the time?” You pull out the pocket watch you swiped from the laboratory table—you pilfered plenty of items during your escape—and flip it open. “Eleven-thirty.”
“Uh oh, Trixie needs to return to her carriage. Need to travel to West Fillydelphia tomorrow.”
“You from there?” you ask.
“Just… headed home for a little while…” As she got up off her stool, her hoof caught on one of the legs and she promptly fell on the floor with a heavy thud. Yeah, she was in no shape to make her own way back to her… carriage, did she say?
“Allow me to assist you,” you say, extending your hand.
She curiously eyes your digits through her beer-goggled eyes and tentatively extends her hoof to take it. You help right the toppled mare and she leans against you as you make your way out the door, your bag of pilfered items in tow. When you open the door, the frigid night air wafts over the both of you, chilling you to the bone. Given how ponies don’t wear clothes like you do, Trixie must be feeling the brunt of it. It shows as her teeth chatter against one another as you walk in a random direction, guided by the drunk mare under you.
“What did you say you w—” she hiccups “—ere? A hyoomin?”
“Eh, close enough,” you shrug. “Where the hell are we going anyway?”
“Trixie parked her wagon by some trees so nopony would bother her.” Your eyes scan the surrounding, seeing lots of trees. Dive bars don’t tend to have the most flattering scenery. “Gonna need a bit more than that to go on,” you say dryly.
Her eyes narrow in the darkness as she strains herself to locate her carriage. “That way!” she proudly proclaims, giggling like a schoolgirl. Trixie continues to stumble in the direction she indicated, only you preventing her from face-planting on the ground.
Ground, meet face. Face, meet rock. Face, meet hospital. You chuckle to yourself.
You had been following the treeline for the last fifteen minutes, and by this stage you’re not even sure you were going in the right direction, so you ask if you were.
“Trixie is adamant! The trees were on her left coming here, so we need only keep them on our right on the way back.” Sure enough, after five more minutes of walking, you come across a peculiar looking carriage. It looked like a trailer you’d hook to your car to go camping in. Only, instead of a tow bar, it had a harness attached to the front of it.
You inelegantly haul her up to the door on the back, and Trixie lights her horn to unlock it, and it swings open to reveal the inside. A few cupboards here and there for clothes, magic props and other necessities, with a decent sized bed at the end with ample room to lie. Perfect for one person, and there could potentially be room for two, provided you didn’t mind entangled limbs.
But that wouldn’t be a problem.
You watch with comical interest as she struggles to step up and into the carriage, but she finally manages to do so. Fortunately she didn’t see you smile at her clumsiness.
“Trixie should thank you for being such a gentlecolt.”
“Don’t sweat it,” you say with a dismissive wave of your hand. “If it’s all the same for you, can I tag along for a while? I’ve got nowhere else to go and someone to talk to would be nice.”
“Trixie wouldn’t mind the company on her journey.” You watch as she gets into her bed.
You turn yourself to begin walking away, but not before saying; “Anyway, I’ve got a room in the piss-poor excuse of a hotel down from the bar. I’ll be by in the morning.”
Not even ten seconds later, you laugh when all you can hear is snoring.
Author's Note
Just a friendly reminder the dark tag is there for a reason 
Screw, Nut, and Bolt
It’s three in the morning, and you quietly walk out of your seedy hotel room. Several planks of wood creak underfoot, but you don’t care about waking anyone up; people come and go at all hours of the night. You exit the lobby and walk outside, the moon overhead lighting your way as you pass by the bar you were in a few hours ago.
It will still be open at this hour, that’s for sure. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this place closed. You secure your bag and let out a breath as you enter the bar. Only two ponies, but they’ve long since fallen asleep at tables in opposite corners of the bar clutching their mugs. Making your way to the counter, you ask the stallion idly cleaning the already tidy bar to “fetch Gustavo from out back”. He narrows his eyes at you and swiftly nods his head. Thirty seconds later, the head of a gryphon pokes out from behind the door, a small sack of money in his beak. He tosses it to you and you snatch it from the air.
Payment for a job helping him stock his bar a week ago. He nods a firm “thanks”, and you silently wave him goodbye. Regardless if Twilight put a tracking spell on you or not, you’re going to give that purple bitch a run for her fucking money, and you need funds to do that.
You also stole her money when you escaped which has since ran out, and one of the labeled potions you brought with you from the lab before you said goodbye to Twilight.
How Spike slept through that, you will never know.
You had legged it in the complete opposite direction of that library and wound up at the town’s train station, so you followed the directions on the map-slash-timetable, and from there you wound up in Trottingham.
That was a few weeks ago, and now you’re worried about getting too comfortable. It’s almost like you feel Twilight getting close and want to leave before your fears prove you right. You still don’t know how many of Twilight’s spells and potions have worn off, if any.
Yes, she used that many.
From the bar, you follow the direction you took earlier when you were helping Trixie find her way.
Locating the same trees from before, you follow the shrubbery for twenty minutes until you locate the faint outline of Trixie’s carriage, barely illuminated by the moon’s light under some overhanging trees. You look back behind you to check if anyone followed, taking a moment to inhale quickly and deeply to make for a more convincing ruse, sprinting up to Trixie’s carriage.
You bang loudly on the door and yank it open, Trixie throwing her covers off as she wonders what the fuck is going on. You pull yourself inside, slamming the door closed behind you in the process.
“What is the meaning of this?!” Trixie demands, looking angrily at you. You can tell she’s still drunk, much to your amusement.
“The bar. Punch-up. Need to lay low. Shh, please!” you urgently whisper.
“What did you do?” she asked, thoroughly annoyed at having been woken up.
“I just told you!” you say.
Suddenly, you tell her to shush and put your hand over her muzzle. You let the rustling of the trees outside make Trixie think there’s ponies after you so she’ll let you stay.
Trixie looks up at you indignantly, your hand still over her muzzle. “Now’s your chance to pay me back for the drinks. I just need to hide for ten minutes to give the guys looking for me the slip.” You release your hand from Trixie’s muzzle and you slump back against the door, breathing in a falsely relaxed manner. You open your bag and take out a hip flask, unscrewing it and taking a swig.
“Are you still drinking?” she asks with wide eyes.
“Want a nip? I got it from Twilight. Good shit.”
Smirking, she takes the flask in her aura and has a good drink. “Trixie didn’t know Twilight was a drinker. It doesn’t taste like much, though.” She passes the flask back and wipes her muzzle of any remaining drops.
“She drank that once but didn’t like the experience. Must be a lightweight.” Trixie just chuckles.
You put that flask back and pull another out, only this one has alcohol in it. You bought two flasks from a stall on your way up: one you filled with the potion because you couldn’t carry around a glass vial, and the other was topped with some alcohol you bought before you left.
You sit with your back against the door looking at Trixie. Her bed head alone and ruffled coat make her quite funny to look at. Eventually, after a stare-down, you say; “You know… I think I’ve figured out why you’re going home.”
“Oh, really?” she says, raising an eyebrow.
“You said it yourself: your notoriety. I’m gonna venture that ponies started ignoring you once word spread, stallions included. You want to go home because your family is always there for you.” You see her posture slump and her expression sadden. Shuffling down to Trixie, you place your hand under her chin to look her in the eye. “Hey, I never said there was anything wrong with that. It’s good that you can count on mum and dad.” You sigh despondently. “At least you’ve got someone to go back to. But hey, that’s why I asked if I could tag along!”
By now, the elixir should have done its job. You lean into Trixie and lightly kiss her snout. When you pull back, her eyes widen to the size of the carriage’s wheels, much to your amusement. A heavy blush appears on her cheeks, and she giggles softly behind a hoof.
“Trixie wouldn’t mind if you spent the rest of the night with her…” she says, shyly pawing at the ground.
You take the initiative again, only this time kissing her on the lips. Trixie pushes into the embrace, her lips willingly part to allow your tongue to play with hers. You wrap your arms around the mare and fall back onto the mattress, making out in earnest. You continue the battle, your tongue massaging Trixie’s as she tries in vain to gain dominance over you. She brings her hooves up to press against your chest, lightly pushing you off as she gasps for air, her chest heaving from the heated session. If Trixie’s that eager to give in, you guess she hasn’t been laid in a while.
She looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You take the opportunity to plant small pecks along her jawline, working your way up to nip at her ear. She gasps slightly, a hind leg kicking the air with anticipation. Your tongue lightly teases at her neck, flicking randomly as you reach her collarbone. Your lips lock onto a patch of skin and you suckle against it, Trixie humming contentedly at the affection.
You kiss and lick lower and lower, down her chest and stomach. “S-stop…” she breathes, but you pay her no attention. You can see she’s enjoying it. You keep going, getting lower and lower, until…
“Wait!” she shouts, quickly shuffling back, sitting up back against the wall.
“What’s the matter?” you ask, blinking in surprise. Trixie was getting really into it, why would she stop you?
“T-Trixie hasn’t, well... Been with a stallion in a while. You came on a bit strong.”
“You were getting so into it!” you say pointedly. “Why would you want to stop?”
Trixie’s eyes widen with shock as you force your lips against hers, using your weight to hold her under you. One hand holds her shoulder against the wall, your other trailing itself down her chest. You curl your fingers, and your nails lightly brush over two mounds.
She pushes you off again. “Trixie asked you to stop!” she says angrily.
Your hands connect with both her shoulders, holding her against the wall as she returns your dark look with widening eyes. “You invite me to stay the rest of the night, return my advance, and now you’re saying no? That’s not very lady like.” You move in for another kiss, connecting, but Trixie tries to shake you off. You pull back to look at her again, her breathing becoming increasingly frantic.
“What did you do to Trixie? Her magic isn’t working!” Free of your lips, she tries in vain to light her horn.
“Yeah, about that…” You step off, grabbing her legs and pulling her away from the wall. You sit on her hind legs to prevent her from bucking you, your hands holding her down. “Twilight gave me a magic-suppressing elixir, thinking that I had abilities like unicorns do. Totally erroneous. So when I escaped… You remember when I said she got a taste of her own medicine? She probed me, so I… probed her.”
“Somepony will hear you and find us!” she argues.
“No they won’t. Only Twilight is looking for me, and everyone else doesn’t want anything to do with you, and with your reputation, I doubt anyone is going to come looking.” You grab her horn and pull her closer to look her in the eye. “So how about you be a good little mare for me, hmm?” You use your grip on her horn and turn her head sideways, though not to hurt her, and you trail your tongue down her neck again, only she shivers against you. Trixie tries squirming to get out from under you, so you sharply smack her thigh across her cutie mark.
“You have no magic, and I’m stronger than you. How about you be a good girl and let me have what you invited me here for?” She whimpers under you, and you give her shoulders a firm squeeze to remind her of who’s in charge, then slowly release your grip. Your hands grip her barrel as you kiss lower down, your fingers brushing through her coat. They come to a stop at her waist, holding her still.
You kiss between the mounds you found earlier, tracing the outside ridges with your tongue, then lavish her nipples by flicking at them over and over. You bring one of the teats into your mouth, lightly grinding the perky flesh between your lips. Trixie’s breathing intensifies as she weakly moans from your teasing ministrations.
Your hands curve around to grab a handful of her supple skin, giving it a squeeze to test it’s spank-ability. You hum a delighted moan and give each cheek a loud slap, Trixie shuddering under each blow.
She suddenly tries pulling her legs out from under you, but a quick slap over the stomach immediately makes her stop. “This will go so much quicker if you just lie there. I’m not leaving until I’ve gotten what I came here for.” She whimpers pathetically, the full gravity of the situation dawning on her.
“But, just to make sure…” You sit back down on her hind legs, pulling your bag closer. You fish out two lengths of rope, using the smaller to firmly bind her muzzle shut so all you could hear are Trixie’s melodic moans of protest. A thicker, longer piece binds her forelegs together against her chest, leaving you in control of her hind legs.
You slink off them, each hand firmly grasping at each appendage. You keep your eyes locked with hers as they begin to mist over, slowly parting her legs to reveal her vulva. Avoiding her ponut, you lick her up and down several times.
Twilight showed you how mares wink, though she did so rather unashamedly, also explaining that’s what happens when a mare gets aroused, much to your disgust at the time. Your hands lightly caress and pinch her teats as you continue licking Trixie up and down, trying to coax the same reaction. The pace of her breathing increases, and you can see her folds begin to moisten of their own accord. You grin to yourself; her body’s reactions are just what you were looking for.
You swing Trixie’s legs over your shoulders with your head buried between her inner thighs, giving her a stern look to not try squish your head or neck as your hands continuing to play with her teats. You roll the nipples firmly between your thumb and forefingers as your tongue licks at the little hood hiding her clit. You simply close your eyes as you indulge yourself, humming pleasurably. Trixie tries shuffling around, but your strength keeping her in place reminds her of what not to do. You hear her weak protests, but this only fuels your desire. You feel her lips becoming increasingly warm, her body reacting by excreting it’s natural lubricant to make the inevitable easier for you.
You give her teats a break for now and use your thumbs to part her pussy, revealing Trixie’s glistening pink tunnel. Sadly, her clit still hasn’t begun to wink yet, so you bury your tongue deep into her canal as far as it will go, curling it upwards to try and coax out the sensitive button.
Through her bound muzzle, Trixie squeals with what you assume to be moans of pleasure, throwing her head back as a wave of endorphins floods her being. In doing so, you press against a bundle of nerves and she wails louder. She grunts and breaths heavily, helpless without her magic.
Your lips engulf Trixie’s pussy, your tongue rubbing and massaging her clit to coax it out as she squirms. She can’t get away; there was barely enough room for her to move around. You suck Trixie’s juices from her, the taste, you realise, faintly reminding you of blueberries.
Your thumbs let go of her lips and they close around your tongue. You drag the invading appendage up and down, inserting a finger into her canal to aid your efforts. Efforts still focusing on her clit, your finger curls up to press on it from behind, and you begin to suck on it like a lollipop. Eventually her back arches with a rush of pleasure, wailing piteously as your prize begins to peek out, your tongue lavishing the button with unbridled affection. You treat the nub like a piece of soft candy, her pussy finally beginning to wink around your tongue. You redouble your efforts, sliding two fingers in to tease the bundle of nerves you found before as you lavish her folds.
You pull back a moment to admire your handiwork, licking your fingers of the mare’s juices, smacking your lips to taunt Trixie. Her entrance has begun to wink and drip like a wanton mare in heat, so you dive back in for seconds before getting to the main course. You don’t know if she has cum yet, but you aim to change that before what comes next.
You force three fingers as far as they’ll go, wiggling them around within her to coax out more of her natural lubricant. Eventually, your efforts prove as fruitful as the taste of Trixie’s nectar, and her back arches as she lets out an ear-piercing shriek as her body shakes, your lips clamping around her clit and grinding back and forth over her the tender button. She breaths heavily, sweat beading on and around her face, the dazed look on telling you that was her first orgasm in a long time, that same expression debating whether or not it was a good thing.
You unwrap her arms from around her hips and flanks, getting to your knees. Your hands find the buckle of your belt and unclasp it. You slide your pants to your knees, causing Trixie’s eyes to widen. You just smirk and pull your shirt off, tossing it aside. Awkwardly, you stand up as far as the small space will allow and pull your pants fully off, kicking off your shoes in the process. Now all that’s left is your boxers.
“You know,” you begin, inserting your thumbs into the waistband of your boxers, “it doesn’t bother me in the slightest that you ponies don’t wear clothes. In fact, it’s rather fortuitous that you don’t. Despite what you may think, little swishes of your tail and gushes of the wind have given me good glances, including yourself.”
You slide your boxers down, letting your hardened manhood spring free. Trixie’s expression is betwixt bewilderment and something along the lines of “oh no” as she glimpses your erection. “Yeah, Twilight was rather surprised it didn’t look like a typical horsecock. But, as I subsequently found out, mares are very accommodating.”
Your eyes find the fruits of your efforts: her saliva and mare cum-coated, rapidly winking pussy. Her clit is engorged, just begging for attention. You slide yourself forward on your knees, your member inching closer to Trixie’s entrance. It connects with her clit, and you rub your cock head around it, coating yourself with her lubricant and some of your own pre. Satisfied with the amount of lubrication, you begin by sliding your cock up and down her winking slit, moaning to yourself as she clamps down on you repeatedly. You push forward, mouth forming a small ‘O’ as you slowly slide deeper into her warmth.
You scoot closer so your knees are spread wide around Trixie’s flanks, giving you enough room to roll your hips forward, feeling Trixie’s passage opening up for you. You lean forward on your kneed, your stomach coming close to pressing against hers as you feel yourself bottom out within her. Your hips grind against hers, and you can tell Trixie’s on the throes of another orgasm, never having experienced pleasure so unique.
Leaving just your head in, you slowly pull out then slide back in a few times, getting a feel for Trixie’s passage. You grow more confident in your ministrations, and by now your hips are slapping against Trixie’s at a regular pace. You really want to see how deep you can get, so you slam your hips against hers in one swift motion to completely bury your entire shaft in her. You didn’t feel your anything at the end, but judging by a combination of Trixie’s moans, muffled protests, and conflicting pleasure sensations, it doesn’t matter.
You reach down and extend a thumb then start to rub her clit, pressing it in time with your thrusts. Hot, ragged breaths escape Trixie’s flaring nostrils, her chest heaving every time your pelvis meets hers. You drive yourself forward hard, burying your throbbing cock deep into Trixie again, feeling her passage undulate around your shaft as she winks madly. Everytime you touch that engorged pink pearl, you’re putting driving Trixie closer to the brink of another orgasm. You want to make her cum again before you do, hopefully even harder this time.
You adjust your body for a slightly better angle, steeling your position so you can achieve maximum depth with every slick thrust. With repeated, fluid motions, you pull all the way out and ram back in, pressing hard on her clit and vigorously rubbing it to make Trixie cum around you.
Her breathing becomes increasingly laboured and shallow, and with several frantic pumps on your behalf, Trixie arches high off the mattress, eyes rolling back into her head as you feel her body convulse and pussy quiver around your cock as it coats you with mare juices. Some of it even splashes back onto you. With her entire body limp under you, you can say you’ve accomplished your task quite well.
Trixie being as weak as she is right now gives you the perfect opportunity to adjust her to your liking, so you momentarily pull your mare-cum drenched cock, and roll her onto her right side, her forehooves curled against her chest thanks to the rope. You grab the left hind leg and hold it to your chest, realigning your eager organ. This way allows you to hold Trixie closer, the angle of this insertion bringing entirely new avenues of pleasure for you both. After making Trixie cum as many times as you did, it’s time that you really showed Trixie what your kind feels like. Twilight enjoyed it to begin with, so why shouldn’t she?
Now you only thrust in and out of the mare to achieve your orgasm. You hold onto her leg with one hand while the other repeatedly spanks Trixie over the cutie mark, causing her to let out a short squeak after each strike. Your pace quickens, breathing and heart rate rising to the inevitable crescendo. You grit your teeth as you feel the familiar pressure build in your loins, and with a hard, deep thrust, bury as much of your orgasming cock deep within the bound mare as you can.
Pleasure hits new heights as your balls clench, releasing torrent after torrent of seed within the mare. None made it past her cervix unfortunately, but knowing you were filling Trixie to the brim either way was good enough for you. You keep yourself buried to the hilt until you feel and see your cum leaking from Trixie’s rapidly winking slit. With Trixie exhausted from the experience, you’re free to slowly pull your cock out, keeping in as much of your cum as possible.
That was the whole point behind the spell Twilight cast on you: filling as many test tubes as possible for ‘study’. At least you think it was a spell, or one of the many concoctions she gave you. You don’t remember.
You pull your member free of Trixie’s depths as a rivulet of semen escapes. You marvel at the sight, and every time her abdominal muscles clench, another wave of exits and runs over her inner thigh, pooling under her leg. She’s winking madly, and as the spasms of her orgasms die down, her folds eventually close, sealing your seed inside.
You sit back and breathe heavily from over-exertion, soaking in the marvel of Trixie’s sweat soaked, panting and limp form, whose vulva and coat around the area was matted with a mixture of cum from you both. Your legs feel limp, so you take the time to get some feeling and strength flowing back into them and your arms. It doesn’t take too long, so when you’ve recovered enough stamina, you begin to get dressed.
All the while Trixie just lays on the bed, dazed and aimlessly staring at the foot of her mattress where you just were. Frozen in a state of shock, uncaring that she still has everything on display, she squirms in place to roll over, tail covering your deed. A brief moment passes and she lightly huffs with frustration. Despite her bound muzzle, she leans down to the floor to pick up her blanket between her lips, and roll in place to pull it over herself.
You definitely need a proper shower since you reek of sex and sweat, but that can wait until you’ve gotten far enough away where you can feel safe from Twilight again. You can’t help but wonder how long she’ll track you for, if even she has put a spell on you, but whatever, there’s only so far someone can chase you before they lose interest and motivation. You fully intend to test her mettle.
Despite the small space in which to get dressed, you do so fairly efficiently. Facing the door, you look back at Trixie over her shoulder. Palpable silence still fills the room, her shocked form still anchored to the bed.
“Your magic will return in a few hours,” you say, slipping the end of your belt through the final loop. “You’ll likely sleep longer than that.” You open the door to the night, the rush of cold air not even remotely disturbing the mare. Before you leave for good, you tell Trixie one last thing.
“I’ve managed to evade Twilight for this long, so don’t count on bumping into me again. Not that you’d want to anyway…” You secure your bag to your shoulders, grasping the straps and holding your arms close to your body as you head in the direction of the nearest train station.
