~*~
“I said, stop staring at me like that,” Lyra says again, narrowing her eyes at you.
You are sitting across from her and a pony you’ve just met, who you swear looks like she’s made of toothpaste, at a small cafe. And you know it’s rude to stare, but something has gotten into you today. You just can’t seem to stop noticing… pony noses. They’re so small, they wiggle just a little when the ponies eat or take a sip of their teas, and they look velvety soft. And somehow… they’re just so inviting.
You never touched a horse’s nose back on earth, but you’d heard people talk about how fuzzy and nice their muzzles were. These noses are much smaller, and much cuter, but you have a feeling that touching one would be like caressing crushed velvet.
Except, you don’t want to caress them. No. You want to take your index finger, put it right against the middle, and give it a little push.
In you, you can feel a growing need to boop that pony snoot.
“Sorry,” you say to Lyra, not sorry at all. “You just look nice today, that’s all.”
The blush that spreads across her face is absolutely lovely. You feel a warmth in your heart at seeing it… and your crotch. Damn these adorable sexy little horses.
“Er… thanks,” she says haltingly. “But you’re really staring me down here so… is there something on your mind?”
You hesitate. Lyra has been your friend for a while now, but asking to poke her nose is still a little invasive. Ponies also seem pretty sensitive about their noses, and you've never even seen another pony touch someone's nose before. They'd probably think it's super weird, but you don't know until you ask, you suppose. At last, you can’t take it any longer.
“Er,” you say slowly. “I was wondering… would it be okay if I… like… booped your nose?”
There’s a chill in the air. The whole cafe feels like it goes silent for a moment, and you have a sense of the whole day getting heavier around you. Across the table from you, the toothpaste pony holds her hooves to her face, and her eyes get very wide. Lyra goes deathly pale, then a slow deep red begins to spread up her face from her neck. It’s not so adorable this time.
“A-a-anon!” she stammers out, almost in a cry. Then, she lowers her voice into almost a hiss and leans across the table to you. “Oh my Celestia, Anon, you can not just go around asking to boop pony noses!”
“Ah, okay… why not?”
Lyra makes a noise like someone trying to breathe while guzzling soup at the same time.
“B-because that’s super not okay! That’s a private matter!”
You blink. Nose boops are private?
“That makes like zero sense.”
“It makes perfect sense!” she yell-whispers. “You know what boops do!”
Again, you blink, then slowly shake your head. Another light show of colors erupts across Lyra’s face.
“Don’t lie!” she snaps.
“I’m not!” you say, holding up your hands in defense. “What does it do?”
“Well if you really don’t know, maybe it’s for the best,” she says, crossing her front legs and looking away from you sharply. “I’m not going to be the one to tell you. Now can we just drop it?”
You most certainly cannot drop it. Before, you just wanted to boop pony noses for fun, but now? Now they’re forbidden fruit. Now they’re a mystery, a tantalizing curiosity that you simply must satisfy.
Your friend Lyra is too far away to use as your test subject. The toothpaste pony is still barely out of arm’s reach too. So who is close by enough? You scan the area, and see Berry Punch, a rather adorable town drunk, wandering towards the cafe. Probably coming to get some coffee as a pick-me-up after a late night of drinking, you’d guess. That means she’ll be groggy, unsteady on her feet. She’s the perfect target.
Lyra is saying something about bodily autonomy, but you aren’t listening anymore. Your sights are set on Berry. As she approaches, you rise out of your seat, standing back from the walkway as if to let her by. She looks up at you and smiles slightly, gratefully, and you take in that perfect, unbooped face for just one moment longer. Then your arm begins to move. Lyra realizes, way too late, what you’re about to do, and cries out to you.
“Anon! STOP!” She screams. “Berry, ru-”
She never gets to finish the word.
Your index finger comes down firmly and precisely, right in the center of Berry’s nose, pressing inward. You sense a tingling rush in your nethers at how perfectly soft that nose is, and how delicately furry, more pleasant to touch than even a freshly-skinned rabbit pelt. The way it crinkles easily in is so satisfying. As the final touch, you grin down at Berry, who has instantly gone crosseyed, and let loose a tiny announcement of your action.
“BOOP!”
Everything that happens next seems to occur all at once, and you’re helpless to do anything but watch.
Berry’s mouth opens in surprise, then her cheeks go red, and her eyes roll back in her skull as if she is fainting. Her whole body quakes, starting with the nose, then all the way down her shoulders and flanks. Her knees go weak and collapse under her, and she tries to catch herself as she falls to the ground, barely staying in a sitting position on trembling hooves. From her mouth comes a thready, warbling moan of ecstasy and unexpected wanting, and you see her hindquarters convulse suddenly, as if she’s been shocked. Then, as you watch, a small spurt of liquid erupts from between her legs, and a minute gush of clear, slick fluid trickles across the walkway, shining in the morning sun.
It all clicks right away. You understand now what happens when you boop ponies. Poking them on the nose causes them to spontaneously orgasm. And it is a glorious thing.
You know what you must do.
As Berry Punch looks up to you, still shaking and drooling from the unexpected sensation, you are grinning back like some sort of maniac. Your eyes glint as you turn from her used-up body, and look instead at your two cafe companions. Lyra is pale, standing by the table, but still not fast enough to flee from your grabbing hands. She lets loose a scream.
“Anon, no! Don’t I…”
You silence her with the touch of a finger.
“BOOP!”
A cry erupts from her mouth and she topples backwards, clutching at her privates. Her back legs quiver in an unseen rhythm as orgasmic juices flow down her thighs and rear onto the ground. She simply lies there on her back, neck arched, eyes shut and mouth open, as her body is wracked by the sweet, unwilling orgasm you have given her.
Now the new girl.
She’s been sitting, frozen in her chair, and you pounce on her without pause. You knock her back out of the chair onto the ground, and she gives a little cry of fear as you pin down her front hooves above her head. Her back feet kick uselessly against your thighs as you look down into her wide-eyed terrified face. Then, with your free hand, you delicately flick her little snout.
"BOOP!"
She half whinnies, half whimpers, and a stream of thick, semi-transparent blue gel oozes from her pussy. You sniff in, and can smell the mintyness even without getting close to her cooch. She orgasms toothpaste, you knew it! You make a mental note to consider further the implications of eating out a mare who could potentially have teeth-whitening properties later. Right now, you have to do God's work and boop some fucking noses.
At this point, the ponies in the cafe have gotten out of their chairs, and are running, screaming away from the scene. You throw back your head and emit a hearty laugh as you rise above the still thrashing toothpaste pony.
"I am Anon, giver of orgasms!" you bellow out, feeling the power of this moment surging through you.
Then to seek out the nearest pony to grab, and get to booping.
First is the tea pony who runs the cafe, coming out to check to see what the commotion is. As you boop her, a warm, pleasant aroma of silk oolong formosa wafts to your nostrils. As she slumps to the ground, pawing at her nethers, you step back, grinning down at her. Now that's one pony you definitely wouldn't mind eating out to start your morning. But, again, for another time.
You turn from the cafe, cackling, and run down the street, reaching out to boop any pony nose within arm's distance. Lily, the flower mare, collapses across her bed of flowers in a dead faint. That one orange apple pony tries to give you a kick, but you side step and reduce her to a swearing, convulsing mess of apple-sauce spewing ecstasy on the ground. You're actually pretty sure that one purple alicorn you booped emitted sparks from her pussy as she screamed and collapsed onto her little dragon assistant, who may have been crushed under her weight, who knows, who cares. All you care about is the fact that you have the power to give spontaneous, uncontrollable orgasms, and no one can stop you.
And your mom told you that you'd never please a woman. If only she could see you now.
Your eyes catch an unexpected movement above, and you transfix onto Rainbow Dash. She's flying down towards you, still way out of reach, and you know that you simply must have her. She hasn't noticed the bodies of the spent ponies groaning and shaking on the ground in your wake, so you have to act fast. You look around for something to knock her out of the sky with, and your eyes fall upon a butterfly net that some unfortunate child has left on the ground. Deftly, you snatch it up, then wave at Dash to come on down.
Unsuspecting, she flies down towards you, calling a hearty greeting.
"Hey Anon, what's..."
You watch as recognition dawns in her eyes at the sight of the other ponies, her friends, strewn out like autumn leaves on the street behind you. Perhaps she knows what is about to happen to her, perhaps not. All you know is that, for once, Rainbow Dash isn't fast enough. You pull out the butterfly net and snatch her out of the air. Apparently these nets are strong enough to hold pegasus, because she gives an indignant squawk and struggles futilely as you pull her wriggling into your arms. You make yet another note to invest in butterfly net stocks later, and hold your hand out in front of her face.
"Anon, I..." she protests, stuttering.
You scarcely hear her. You will not be dissuaded. With a triumphant laugh, you poke her nose and look down expectantly.
"BOOP!"
Rainbow Dash's whole body tenses, thrashing in a final moment of defiance, but the sensation is apparently too much for her. Her legs crush together, but not well enough to hide the beautiful river of perfect rainbow colors with dribbles out across her fur, to make a rainbow puddle on the ground. You drop her unceremoniously into the puddle of her own juices, where she gasps for breath and looks up at you, obviously furious but weak from sensory overload. You wink at her.
"Just having a dash of fun, Rainbow!" you shout jovially at her, than run chortling away.
You spot a small crowd, trying to hide from you, and close on them in an instant. Laughing wildly, possessed by this urge to boop, you stab furiously into the crowd, listening to moans and whimpers as you occasionally find a target. Ponies wilt to the ground in their midst, shivering, writhing, groaning in unwilling desire.
"BOOP!"
A wavering cry.
"BOOP!"
A shriek of ecstasy.
You're turning right and left, barely seeing as you move, just feeling nose after nose under your fingertip. You hear cries of protest, but you don't stop, can't stop. Not until you've made every mare in Ponyville orgasm, not until...
"I say, what's..."
You spin, boop poised to deliver, and have just enough time to recognize your mistake. Recognize, but not stop it.
There, below your already-moving hand, is the face of Fancy Pants who, contrary to the name, never wears any pants. He is looking up at you, indignant, even angry with you, and as your finger points at him, he focuses on it. You realize what you're about to do, and what that probably means, and know that this is not what you wanted to do with your day. That you've brought this on yourself. That this may be the gayest thing you have ever done in your life. But the attack is already away, there's no time to stop it. As his nose wrinkles at your touch, and you try to draw your hand back, you can't help gurgle out the word that's already flying to your lips.
"B-boop?"
Fancy Pants topples backwards with a cry. All at once, his penis is out of its sheath, expanding with blinding speed to sizes that would make even porn stars self-conscious. As he moves backwards through the air, it stiffens, the end flaring out like a blooming rose, and its small opening directs itself at you. Like laser sighting, you look down the shaft and see the stallion's balls quake, and then the vibration moves up the dick towards the tip. You have just enough time to let out a scream... which, as it turns out, is also a mistake.
Creamy splooge explodes from the tip of Fancy Pants' cock, shooting out like a super soaker. It impacts your face with the force of a water balloon, and you feel a sting as the goopy liquid splashes into your eyes. You try to shut your mouth, but it's already filled with the unfortunately unforgettable flavor of horse semen. The stream seems to go on and on forever, and you stumble back from the firehose like sensation of being face-blasted by this dapper aristocrat. You both topple away from each other, him moaning in joy, you clawing at your face like it's been covered in somehow living acid. You can practically feel all the tiny cartoon sperm wiggling against your skin. You scream and scream, until you at last have to breathe in, and even then you can taste in your lungs the pungent musk of horse jizz.
At last, wiping his spunk from your eyes, you look up at Fancy Pants. He looks at you, obviously annoyed, and shakes his head slowly.
"Anon, what kind of stallion do you take me for!" he growls. "I demand you take me to dinner before we do such things. I am a gentleman after all."
He stands and brushes off his suit coat. He places his monocle back in his eye, then turns to you once more, and shakes his head with a tsking noise. You can feel tears running down your face, mixing with his seed in a super salty mixture of shame. Then, all at once, he smiles at you. He even winks as he turns from you to continue on his way.
"Just remember Lad," he says as he saunters away from you. "Do things like that again, and you're bound to end up with more than egg on your face."
-END-
Author's Note
BOOP!
