Beneath The Quivering Hill
A low groan escaped from Tempest as she slowly made her way down the dirt path. Dark bags hung under her bloodshot eyes, and her shoulders slumped as she heaved a weary sigh. She walked with her head hung low and her gaze locked on the ground as she practically dragged her hooves through the dirt and pine needles.
Large pine trees lined one side of the path, their imposing trunks looming high into the air. Soft green needles adorned their branches and blocked out much of the light from the setting sun. A few stray swathes managed to sneak through, and they painted the ground with shifting patterns of orange light.
A rocky outcrop adorned the other side, streaks of red and white and purple splashing across the stoneface. A babbling brook cut through the rocks, splashing here and there as it ran through the hodgepodge of curves and slopes that the water had carved through the earth throughout the centuries. Small hints of white foam floated by as the stream churned and sputtered.
Tempest listened to the sloshing water as she walked, an ear turned to better hear it. It was faint, though the quiet tenderness is what she sought. It was such a wonderful contrast to the noise and chatter that bore down upon her through her entire work day. She had once thought that nothing could have been more tiring than commanding the Storm King’s armies.
That is, until she started working in retail.
Weary and barely able to feel her hooves, she continued down the dirt path, silently grateful for the respite that the weekend brought. Time to relax, time to recover, and time to lounge around The Wilting Rose café. If she was lucky, there might be a couple of new drinks for her to taste test. However, before she could get to all of that, Tempest had to make a stop.
A special stop.
Moving along the path, she allowed her hooves to carry her along without really paying attention to where she was going. She didn’t need to; her hooves knew the way. Instead, she focused on the sound of nature around her, allowing the ambient noise to wash over her. She remained this way for a few more minutes, until she came upon a turn in the path. Rounding the bend, she came to a stop and finally glanced up.
She had arrived at her destination.
It was an unusual location, hidden away in such a way that if you didn’t know what you were looking for, you might just miss it. Built into the slope of a hill, the property was nearly invisible, hidden beneath the large, creeping root system of a thick spruce tree that grew upon the hillock. Dark-stained wood made up the front of the building, and a thick layer of moss was slowly inching its way up its facade. Windows peaked out from beneath the wall of roots and vines, an orange glow leaking through the thick, frosted glass from within. Paper lanterns hung from a few of the higher roots, odd runes and symbols painted on the thin, papery surface. Above the door, a wooden sign swung gently in the breeze, the golden words ‘The Quivering Hill’ etched on its face with large, looping letters.
A smile crossed Tempest’s face as she gazed up at the strange building. Her tail flicked up across her back for a moment before she made her way forward, her hooves clicking audibly upon the cobblestone path that led up to the door. The musical chime of a bell rang through the air as she pushed her way inside.
The interior was dark, the room dimly lit by a pair of orange-red lanterns which were housed in small alcoves on either side of the room. Pine needles cluttered the wooden floor, scattering beneath her hooves with each step. Silk banners and ribbons hung low from the ceiling and walls; they brushed against her coat as she moved farther into the room. She inhaled deeply, taking in the enticing aroma of pine and cinnamon, as well as a faint, more musky smell.
Shaped like an egg, the walls of the room curved around until they came to a low archway located in the back. An old bust of a unicorn sat above the arch, the pink diamonds inlaid into the eye sockets glinting in the low light. Thick, dark pink and red curtains filled the arch, cascading over one another and hiding the other side from view. Every few seconds, a zephyr whispered through the curtains, and they fluttered and quivered softly. Faint music—barely audible, yet soothing all the same—could be heard coming from somewhere on the other side. The only furniture in the room was a small desk positioned beside the archway, behind which a strange pony was seated.
Her white coat appeared to almost glow in the low light of the room, the hairs brushed until they sheened. She was lithe, yet her small body was curved in all the right places. Cut short on one side, her mane cascaded down the other half of her face, the pink highlights standing out vibrantly against the gray hairs. Her ears were long—the edges riddled with golden, ringed piercings—and ended in tips of tufted fur. Bat-like wings emerged from her sides, the long white fingers connected by thin, wine-colored membranes. A sari made of pink-shaded silk was draped about her body, the material just translucent enough to let the imagination wander.
The mare glanced up when Tempest entered, her pink eyes alight with an inner glow. Upon seeing her, a smile spread across the mare’s face. “Tempest, my darling, you have returned!” Her voice was heavily accented, the words coming more from her throat than her lips. She stepped out from behind the desk, her wings twitching excitedly as she sauntered over to Tempest. “It’s been too long, my dark little Fizzle.”
Tempest smirked as the mare leaned forward, first kissing her on first one cheek, then the other. A faint hint of citrus and spice trailed behind the mare. “Hello, Deva. It has been a while, hasn’t it?”
“Months!” The mare threw back her head and covered her face with a foreleg. “It’s been months, my dear. I thought you had all but forgotten about me!”
“As dramatic as ever, I see,” Tempest huffed, though the corners of her lips twitched upwards. “I didn’t forget about you. I’ve just been rather busy lately.”
The mare lowered her leg. Adjusting her sari with a wing, she gave Tempest a critical look. “I can tell, darling. You look horrible, simply horrible. I almost mistook you for a corpse.”
Tempest winced. “That bad, huh?”
“I’ve seen mares who have just went through labor who looked better than you,” Deva deadpanned. She was silent for a moment, the claws on her wings fidgeting with the silk draped about her before she gave Tempest a sultry smile. “However, we can fix this, my dear precious Twister.” Heading back to her desk with a sway in her hips, she moved back around the desk once more.
Pulling a large leather-bound book out from beneath the desk, she placed it down on the counter with a soft thump. “The usual, I presume?” she asked, peering up at Tempest even as she flipped through the pages.
Tempest moved forward and pulled out a small bag of bits.
“If you don’t mind, that would be wonderful,” she said, placing the bag upon the counter.
Deva ran a hoof down a page for a moment before nodding to herself. “You are in luck, darling. They are currently available.” Grabbing the bit bag with a wing tip, she slipped it beneath the desk without even looking at its contents. She rummaged around for a moment before pulling up a small lantern. Fumbling with the shutter for a moment, she opened it, revealing the dim red flame housed within.
“You know where to go, correct?” Deva asked with a sly smile.
Nodding her head, Tempest grabbed the handle of the lantern gingerly in her mouth, the taste of polished wood filling her mouth. Careful to not let it swing about too much, she turned and slipped carefully through the archway. The silk curtains brushed against her coat as she moved through them, and the sensation of the cool, velvety material sliding over her fur sent shivers down her spine.
The area on the other side of the curtains was cast in darkness, the silk blocking out the low light of the torches in the first room. Tempest would have been blind, if not for the lantern held in her teeth providing a faint source of light.
This new area was almost completely natural in appearance. It was almost cave-like, having been carved out of the stone of the earth. It was a cylindrical passage that led further into the hillock. Tempest couldn’t see the end, as the lantern was not strong enough. Holes dotted either side of the corridor of chiseled stone, each archway covered in cloth and silk that seemed almost black in the gloom. These curtains swayed and danced eerily, the soft sound of moaning coming from within. The musky odor from before was much stronger now, almost overpowering the scent of pine and cinnamon.
Ignoring the fluttering curtains around her, Tempest moved further down the tunnel-like passage. More archways loomed from the darkness as she proceeded. Gasps could be heard coming from a few—the silk cloth waving gently about—but the majority of the arches were silent. She kept walking and before long the tunnel began to slope slightly downwards. Her hoofs slipped slightly on the worn stone beneath them, but she continued on, undeterred.
The passage ended abruptly, the wall looming suddenly out of the darkness. It too had an arch carved into it, and like the many archways before, silken curtains and drapes hung across the opening. In the low light of Tempest’s lantern, the silk sparkled and glinted ruby-hued.
Pausing right before the curtains, Tempest inhaled deeply through her nose. She held it for a moment before slowly releasing the breath through her clenched teeth. With that, she nosed aside the silken drapes and slipped through the archway.
The room on the other side was breathtaking, despite being mostly hidden in darkness. Her lantern barely provided enough light to see by, yet Tempest knew this room well from past experiences. It was circular in design and had plenty of room for her to move around in. Despite being some ways underground, the room was comfortably warm, due in part to the gentle waterfall that trickled down a backsplash of mossy rocks in the back and led to a small pool. Steam wafted up from the water; a natural hotspring deep beneath the earth. The heavy scent of cinnamon filled the room.
In the center of the room, a stone slab rested. Its surface was warped and curved, expertly chiseled to allow a pony to rest upon it comfortably. A silken blanket was laid out across the stoney surface, and dozens of plush, velvety pillows were strewn about the base. Three colts stood around the stone platform, waiting—a unicorn, a pegasus, and an earth pony. Each one was wrapped in silk, though it was too dark to make out the color.
They bowed as Tempest entered, and as one they spoke. “Hello, Ms. Tempest!”
Tempest smiled around the lantern’s handle. Placing it on the ground, she greeted each colt as they came up to her. “Hello again, little ones.” She leaned down and nuzzled them lovingly, taking in each of their scents in the process. A happy murmur rose in her chest as she nosed at the pegasus’s mane, the scent of strawberries filling her nostrils along with the faintest traces of sweat. The smell alone was enough to start relaxing her body, and as she took in more of the fruity aroma, a wonderful calmness began to descend upon her.
“It’s been too long,” she mumbled into the colt’s neck, more to herself than him. Still, he responded with a low hum as he rubbed his cheek against hers. She caught one of his ears between her lips and gave it a quick nibble—an action that sent a shiver down the colt’s back and made his wings flutter.
After a few moments, they reluctantly broke apart. The unicorn colt moved to take the lantern with his magic, while the pegasus guided her towards the silk-covered slab. His soft wings brushed against her barrel with almost eager anticipation. As she got comfortable upon the block, the earth pony rummaged around in the darkness that crowded the edges of the room. She was just able to see him roll a small wooden trolley bearing three buckets out of the shadows when the unicorn colt promptly shut the lantern’s shutter, plunging them all into complete darkness.
Silence fell over the room with the darkness. Tempest waited—her eyes closed and a smile of anticipation on her face—and was quickly rewarded when a pair of hooves pressed gently into her back. Soon this was followed by a comfortable weight settling over her outstretched hind legs. A soft purr escaped her lips as one of the colts laid upon her, rubbing his oil-slick body against hers as he toiled away on the knots in her back. Almost immediately, she felt the tension in her body begin to vanish.
The colt was silent, only grunting and huffing softly as he worked. The oil—almost cold when he first started—had warmed up to a comfortable temperature now, and Tempest practically melted into a puddle of relief as he rubbed it into her aching body. Feathers danced across her coat, relieving tension wherever they touched.
It wasn’t long before another colt joined in. A pair of small hooves kneaded into her shoulders, and Tempest felt the tip of her broken horn brush against the colt’s stomach. He too was covered in oil, and the faint hint of raspberry tickled her nose. The strength of the hooves revealed that it was the earth pony colt who was currently working his way along her shoulders and up her neck. His hooves—small and nimble—masterfully hit each tender spot, coaxing out small gasps and moans of relief from Tempest’s lips.
The unicorn was not far behind his partners. A low coo came from Tempest as one of her forehooves was lifted gingerly, an oil-soaked brush washing over her frog and down into the crevice of her nail. Pain flared up as the rag was pushed into the soft flesh, but it quickly gave way to pleasure as the colt lovingly cared for her sore hooves.
Time seemed to lose all meaning for Tempest. She purred and groaned as the oil-covered colts draped their bodies across her, tenderly working away stress with expert hooves. The pegasus moved up along her flank and lower back, massaging the oil into her rump and dock. Her breath quickens slightly as she feels his groin grind upon her hind legs, his scrotum dragging against her toned thighs.
The colt shifted upwards, and as she arched her back, Tempest felt his sheath slip into the furrow of her rump. She flexed, squeezing him between her muscular cheeks. Displaying remarkable willpower, the colt didn’t even groan as his member began to stiffen against her own sanctity. She slowly rolled her hips, only to gasp as his now fully hardened colthood slid neatly inside her heated depths.
Tempest’s inner muscles squeezed eagerly upon the intruder within their grasp, and she felt the colt’s length twitch in turn. The small member was unable to reach the deepest parts of her folds, but it did not have to. It was the perfect size that as the colt finally bottomed out within her, his tip brushed up against a particularly sensitive spot just below her navel. As the head of his member caressed the patch, her clit winked and pressed itself against his scrotum, soaking the tight sack with her leaking essence.
The colt didn’t miss a beat. He allowed her to savor the wonderful, eye-crossing sensation for a moment before beginning to move his hips. He worked himself into her inner depths even as he continued to gently knead his hooves into her lower back. His smaller hips met her plumper ones with soft bumps—tender and loving with each stroke. Not once did his pace ever quicken; his thrusts remained slow and steady. One, two, three, pause. One, two, three, pause—two short pumps then a long one, followed by a moment of rest.
Tempest hissed in delight. The muscles in her rump twitched and flexed as the colt shifted inside her, squeezing his member tight as he slowly slid out, only to relax and receive him happily as he returned, brushing against that wonderful spot once more. With each swing, his balls brushed softly against her clit, and she clenched around his length again. Her feminine arousal leaked out and around his shaft—pushed from her folds by her inner muscles’ contractions—and the slick liquid trickled down to pool about her mounds.
A soft bump at the base of her horn brought Tempest’s attention forward. Unable to see in the darkness, she still turned her head in the direction of the object. Her muzzle bumped into something warm and stiff, and it only took her a moment to realize what it was. With a smile, she ran the tip of her nose down the length of the earth pony’s member towards its base. She nosed at his petite scrotum, a hum sounding in her throat as she took in the enticing, musky scent. It wasn’t as pungent as a full grown stallion’s, but it was still heady enough to make her lightheaded.
Inhaling his scent one last time, Tempest dragged her lips along the underside of the colt’s shaft. It twitched at her touch, and she smiled before giving the head a slow lick. A faint saltiness filled her mouth as she lapped at his tip, sampling the small amount of precum that accumulated there. She laughed quietly as the small member twitched each time she licked his sensitive flare.
Her tongue swirled around his head a few times before her lips parted and she allowed him to slowly slide into her mouth. She slurped hungrily, enjoying the earthy flavor of his young flesh as she slowly took more of his length. Her nose bumped against his stomach, and she turned her head to the side to rest it upon the silken cover she was lying upon.
The colt made no noise as her mouth enveloped him; he simply draped himself over her head, the fur of his stomach brushing against her exposed cheek and neck. She was allowed a moment to get comfortable before he began slowly moving his hips. Despite being a decent size—noticeably thicker than the pegasus—his head was unable to reach the back of her throat before his hips bumped up against the tip of her muzzle. It didn’t matter though—the texture and warmth of his member against her tongue was more than enough. She swirled her tongue along his shaft, nursing happily upon the exotic treat.
It was only a few seconds before the colt in her mouth was matching the movements of the colt inside her petals. One, two, three, pause. One, two, three, pause. They both pulled out until they almost slipped free, only to sink back into their respective heated depths in slow, smooth strokes. Short, short, long, rest. Short, short, long, rest.
With each thrust, the colt in her mouth pulled back until her lips brushed against the back of his tiny head. His member twitched—the tip flaring slightly—before he pushed back in. She swallowed, squeezing his shaft with her lips and dragging her tongue along his entire length. Likewise, the colt behind would pull out until she felt her lower lips begin to spread for his tip. She clenched the muscles in her rump, squeezing his head tight in order to stop him pulling out completely, and with a gentle push, he delved back into her heat. Both colts maintained their mirrored movements, each matching the other almost perfectly regardless of the blinding darkness around them—in, out, in out, in out, rest.
Despite the pleasure they both were most likely feeling, they continued to tend to her needs. Their hooves kneaded her flesh, worked the knots and tangles out of her mane and tail, and massaged more of the oil into her coat. They labored diligently; her pleasure more important to them than their own.
Something warm and stiff slid its way beneath her belly from the side, slipping between her and the silken cover. The unicorn, having finished with her hooves, had draped himself across her upper back. His member, as stiff as the other two colts’, pulsed and twitched against her chest, her weight squeezing the small shaft against the stone.
The colt thrust smoothly, even as he joined the others in laying across her body. Like the others as well, he was not idle; nipping and nibbling at her oiled flesh in such a way that she found herself shuddering and squirming beneath his attention. Within moments, all three colts were thrusting as one, rocking her body steadily in the process. One, two, three, pause. Short, short, long, rest. The musky scent of lust was heavy in the air.
Despite their current activity, Tempest’s heart rate remained low. Likewise, the colts’ pace remained slow and steady as they continued their ministrations, even as their members swelled and flared. There was no urgency in their movements; only tender love and care. She felt the pleasure slowly welling up in her core, teased and drawn forth by the colts’ attentive actions. This pleasure continued to grow stronger, and Tempest found herself writhing and convulsing beneath the combined weight of the colts. She suckled on the earth pony, clenched around the pegasus, and ground herself upon the unicorn, trying desperately to get them to increase their pace. Despite her best efforts though, they kept their slow, tantalizing strokes. She would get there when they wanted her to, and not a moment before.
It all came ahead in a cascading burst of glory—as one, the colts climaxed.
A full-body shiver ran through Tempest as the member inside her petals jerked and kicked, a delicious, forbidden heat spreading through her loins. The head flared, grinding against the sweet spot within her inner folds, and her eyes went cross as a sharp spike of pleasure swelled within her core. She groaned around the twitching member in her mouth, which was filling her cheeks with warm essence. Her tongue lapped at the flared tip, coaxing out more of the salty treat even as the excess rolled down her throat. At the same time, the member beneath her chest flared as she rubbed it against the silken covers. With a kick, spurts of warmth mixed with the oil already present in her fur. Throughout their climaxes, the colts never ceased their measured movements. Short, short, long, pause. Spurt, spurt, twitch, flare.
The wave of pleasure that crashed down upon Tempest took her breath away. For one, long, glorious moment, her mind went completely blank as every muscle in her body tensed. Her hind legs locked around the pegasus, trapping him within her spasming folds. She did the same with the earth pony, wrapping her forelegs around his waist and swallowing up his entire length as she gulped down the essence he was still giving her.
Her body gave one last shudder before all her muscles unclenched and she went completely limp. For the first time in a long while, she was relaxed, content, and satisfied. There was a warmth in her loins, a warmth in her belly, and all the aches and pains in her body were gone.
She was only dimly aware of the colts pulling themselves free, their oiled bodies sliding effortlessly off of hers. With gentle hooves, they helped her from the stone slab; her legs felt more like jelly than bone and muscle. Still in complete darkness, they half-carried her to the heated pool. A mixture of oil and cooling seed dribbled down her body and dripped upon the floor.
Needing no encouragement, Tempest slipped into the warmth, the water washing away both the oil and the coltish essence that now clung to her fur. A content sigh escaped her lips as she submerged herself up to her neck in the blessed heat.
Slowly, the world began to fade for Tempest as she floated in her blissful state of peace. The colts continued to care for her, one using a brush to tend to her mane as she soaked. Another entered the pool with her, his hooves carassing her coat as he worked the oil, seed, and dirt from the velvety hairs. And the third laid down next to the lip of the pool. He said nothing, yet hummed gently, the soft music filling the room and echoing beautifully about the stone walls.
Tempest lost herself in the bliss, and for a long while, she was at peace.
