A Filly Named Jailbait

"Alright, first things first: you have to do whatever I say, got it?" Jailbait declares. She is standing on the table to be at eye level with you in the chair. Her wings are flared wide and she's puffing out her chest fluff, probably trying to look bigger.

It's fucking adorable.

"Yeah, that's not happening. I'm the foalsitter, remember? Your parents put me in charge," you respond. You briefly wonder if you can get away with ignoring her all night. As long as she doesn't die, you're fine.

"Oh, really?" The tiny horse looks genuinely surprised for a moment, before lowering her wings back to her sides. "Okay then, I'll just tell my dad you locked me in the closet all night," she cheerfully says as she hops from the table to a chair, then down to the floor.

Noble's threat from a few minutes ago echoes in your ears, making your blood freeze. You can only sit there and watch the manipulative filly trot into the kitchen. A hundred thoughts rush through your head before you finally realize that you're fucked if you don't play along.

It's only for one night, and she has to go to sleep at some point. I can deal with taking orders from a little girl for a few hours. What's the worst that could happen?

You quickly stand up and rush to the kitchen. Throwing open the door, you see the little hellspawn sitting on the counter smirking at you.

"Would the silly human like to start over?" she says in a disgustingly sweet voice.

Now I know why they had to put an ad for a foalsitter in the newspaper. She probably did this shit to all the normal ones, and none of them wanted to come back.

"...Fine," you grumble.

"What was that? I couldn't hear you with all that insolence in the way."

"Yes, ma'am." Any self-respect you had left is crushed under a tiny pink hoof.

"Close, but not quite. You will call me 'Mistress' from now on."

"..." Are you fucking kidding me?

"Well? I'm waiting," she sniffs haughtily with her eyes closed, muzzle pointed at the ceiling.

"Yes, Mistress," you hiss through clenched teeth.

"Oh, buck yes. Say it again."

You don't like where this is going.

It's not like I have any choice. "Yes, Mistress."

Jailbait lets out a shaky breath and slowly opens her eyes, looking dazed. "Now carry me."

"What? Why?" you blurt out.

"Because I said so!" she snaps, glaring at you for daring to question your mistress.

You step up to the counter, unsure of how she wants to be carried. She raises her hooves at you, looking just like a human toddler begging for upsies with a lustful smirk. You choose to ignore that disturbing image, despite your penis's protests. You grab under the filly's front legs and place her on your left hip, wrapping your arm under her flank so she doesn't slide down. She's too small to wrap her hooves around your neck, so she settles for clinging to your shirt.

How can something so cute be so evil?

"Take me to my room, servant. The stairs are down the hall."

You don't say anything while you walk, not wanting to say 'Mistress' any more than you have to. At the top of the stairs, another hallway stretches in both directions.

"Left. First door," Jailbait yawns while snuggling into your chest.

You open the door, mentally preparing to have your eyes assaulted by girlish designs.

The room looks... surprisingly normal. Sure, the bed is pink and there's some dolls on a shelf, but that's about it. Everything else is the same dull brown wood as the rest of the building.

"Put me on the bed."

You silently comply once more, placing the tiny horse on top of the covers. This isn't so bad. I thought she'd want to stay up late, but at least she's not making me do weird shit.

"Now rub my belly."

God fucking dammit.

You sit on the bed heavily, ignoring the grunt of surprise from the filly when she bounces into the air. You catch her before she lands and set her in your lap. Placing your right hand on her stomach, you start to scratch her like a dog. The effect is instantaneous. Her left wing shoots out away from you, with her right one pushing into your stomach. Her eyes roll back and she lets out a single, shaky moan.

Jesus horsefucking Christ. She's getting turned on by this? ...I'm getting turned on by this?! What the fuck, penis?! I trusted you!

Your mind is screaming no, but your penis doesn't care. That moan, combined with the filly's twitching body rubbing against your lap, makes Anon Jr start to swell. You pray to the pony gods that she doesn't notice. She could use it as an excuse to get her dad to arrest you, anyway.

After about a minute of silent twitching, you see Jailbait's front hooves slowly reach for your hand. She starts pushing it down.

NOPE.

You nearly throw the filly into her pillows, making her squawk loudly. "Hey! What was that for?!"

"Ineedtogotothebathroom!"

You race down the hall, checking each door until you find a safe haven. Thankfully, it's only two rooms down. Slamming the door and locking it, you strip down and hop into the shower, turning the cold water on full-blast. Your balls will hate you, but your soul remains pure only moderately filthy.

"Anon?"

Your heart leaps into your throat. She's probably going to get you arrested, now.

"...Ohhhh, I see. You're freshening up, first. Good idea. I'll do the same and meet you back in my room, okay?"

The sound of hoofsteps slowly fades away, leaving a single thought in your mind.

What.