Oc-tit-via

You are Octavia, and you cannot believe that bitch! Rainbow Dash showed Rarity a video she found, and Rarity showed you. Because the video had you in it, and Vinyl. It is the video of you two fucking the other day. The video you very specifically told her not to share with anyone.

You are just, beyond angry. You've been avoiding her all day at school. You need some time to figure out exactly how you're going to yell at that perverted ass. Rarity tries to talk to you, get you to calm down, and it's nice to at least have some sympathy, but you still spend the day seething.

Even on the way home, your fingernails are digging into your steering wheel. You drop your things off. A few minutes later you're in front of the girl you thought was your best friend's house. You park next to her car: she's here.

Her dad waves at you when you walk in. For the first time in years you think about how weird it is that you exactly what his dick looks like. But not for long, your anger is focused and sharp. You burst into her room.

She is lying on her bed, nude, as usual. She takes her headphones off when she sees you. "Hey Octavia, I didn't see you much today," she notices the look on your face. "Uh, are you alright?" She stands up as you march toward her.

You shove your phone in her face. "What is this," you growl.

She looks at the screen. "Um, it's that video we made the other day. What about it?"

"This. is. a post. on. a porn site," you say.

She puts on a confused expression. "I thought you didn't want to post that video?"

That's it. You slap her. "How dare you! How fucking dare you! It's not enough to post it when you knew I didn't want you to, but now you're trying to say I did it!? You fucking bitch!" You start laying into her, giving the first taste of the anger that's been building in you all day.

"Octavia! What the hell! What are you talking about? You know I wouldn't—"

You cut her off. "I thought you wouldn't. But I guess you're more of a slut than I thought!" You grab her by the tits and push her down on her bed.

She keeps trying to make excuses for herself. "What the fuck, I didn't fucking do it."

"Well I sure didn't," you scream.

Then she has the audacity to insult you. "Also, what the fuck do you mean by 'slut?' You are at least as slutty as I am."

That's fucking it. You pin her to the bed. "How dare you call me a slut." You shove your hand between her legs, it comes away wet. "Look at this! You're fucking getting off on humiliating me!"

"Bullshit! And I bet you're getting off on accusing me of things I didn't do." To prove her point, she thrusts her hand into the waist of your skirt, and slips a finger in you." "Hah, I fucking knew it. You're wet!"

Suddenly she wraps her legs around yours and rolls over. Now she's on top. "You like this, don't you, bitch? Well I hope you like this more." She lifts your skirt and pulls down your panties. "You want to slap me? How about I slap you back." She spanks you several painful times. Then she jams her fingers in your pussy.

She starts fingering you. She's deliberately touching you in the ways that get you off fastest. Despite your resistance the touching feels good. You try to get out from under her. "That's right. Squirm, bitch!" she says. She starts grinding against her hand as she thrusts her fingers into you.

You grunt. You're not quite sure if it's from frustration or arousal. You tell yourself frustration. You grab the sides of her head and pull it down to your chest. It's times like these you're glad to be taller than her. She lets go of your crotch to free deal with that, and that's when it's your turn roll and flip her. Gravity takes other and smothers her in your bust. You switch from gripping her head to squashing your boobs around it. She tries to say something, but only muffled noises make it through your chest. Since she seems so determined to make this sexual, you decide you might as well enjoy yourself. You start humping her, continuing what she started, but without as much satisfaction on her part.

You grind your hips against her belly as she grapples with you. Ungh, she'd gotten you farther along than you realized. Fuck, you can already feel the wet trail you're leaving on her stomach. Fine, if she's going to act like a bitch, you'll treat her like one. You'll mark her with your scent, that's what dogs do, right?

Her struggling is getting more intense, but there's no escape from your tits, they're too much for her to handle. Once more you push your pussy along her thrashing torso. With each thrust you've been striking up sparks, and this time finally catch and burn. You feel like collapsing, but you're already bent over. All day you've been smoldering, and now it feels so good to get some release.

For a moment.

When your orgasm subsides, when the pleasure fades, it leaves only disgust behind. With her, with yourself, with the whole damn world. You stomp out of the room, leaving her lying there. You ignore how she gasps for breath as you lift yourself off her face. You get to her front door and remember that she pulled your panties off and they're still in her room. For a moment, you think about going back to get them.

You open the door and walk out. Let her keep them. They'll be something for her to remember you by!

You are Vinyl Scratch, and you are very confused. Confused, and upset. What the actual fuck just happened? Octavia came in pissed as fuck. And then you… sexually assaulted each other? God, she nearly suffocated you with her boobs.

Fuck, but what was she talking about. You grab your phone and pull up your favorite porn. You search your name and there it is, the video from the other day. What in the fuck? There were only two copies of that video. There was no way Octavia had posted it, especially after that display. That really did just leave you. But…

You think. When was the last time you got really drunk? Drunk enough that you would upload it and not remember? You hadn't done anything like that since that day— you'd remember the hangover, if nothing else.

Oh shit! It's not on your account! Someone else did do it. You sit down, staring at your phone. You just, try to think this through.

You need to figure out who got the video, and how. And you need to let Octavia what the situation is. Once you explain things to her she'll have to forgive you. If you can get her to talk to you again, that is…

It will probably help if you wait until you stop crying.

You're pretty sure you'll have to stop crying sooner or later.

At least you have your glasses, so people won't be able to tell if the crying never does stop.

Oh god.

You are Vinyl Scratch, and it is the weekend, and you are drunk.

This is usually fun, why aren't you feeling like you're having fun?

You guess it's because you're drinking alone in bed, and not with friends. You're not actually sure if you still have any friends, or if Octavia's told everyone about what happened and they hate you now. Not like you can prove you're innocent. And in a way it is your fault. She didn't even want to record anything, and now here you are.

Your phone vibrates. Again. It does that a lot. You don't have the heart to look at it.

The vibrating sound does make you think about masturbating though. You're bored, why not? You start rubbing your pussy.

You're not really getting in to this. Fuck, you think. You pick up your phone and, ignoring all the texts and missed calls, start looking for some good porn. You kinda wish you had your dildo to help. You really are stupid though, you left it in your closet when you were getting your stash of whiskey out. And now it's all the way on the other side of the room.

Fuck it, you're not actually that horny.

Double fuck it, your bottle is empty. You guess you're going to the closet anyway. Maybe you'll just stay there.

You get out of bed and stumble over. You trip and fall and end up sprawling on top of some goddamn beanbag chair you have. It's close enough. You strain and lean forward into the closet a bit. Step one: booze. You grab one of the bottles you got from that— what was his name? it doesn't matter— one guy. You take a burning sip. You put it down for step two: plug your holes. You reach your arm in deep, groping around, until your finger snags your box of toys. You pull it over and grab a dildo, a nice long one. This one is blue and purple and bumpy. You reach on back and shove it up your cunthole. You can't quite keep your grip on it though, so you kinda forget about and just lie there. You just pass out instead, it's nice.

Unfortunately, you wake up. You feel groggy and sick, which, yeah. Sounds about right. You raise your head and look over your shoulder. Huh, there's someone in your room. Whatever, you knew you were probably going to get busted, but you're beyond caring.

The person leaves, quickly, when they see you moving. That's weird, you're expecting to get yelled at. It must have been your brother.

Hey wasn't he holding your phone?

You get up.

You stomp over to your bed. Your phone's gone. You are awake now. Really, really awake. You feel your heart pounding. You fling open your door and march out. Down the hall to your brother's room.

You don't knock before you go in, shoving the door open with your shoulder. "Where's my phone?"

"Idunno," he says. He tries to sound nonchalant, but you can hear his voice wavering.

He's holding a phone. Before he can say anything more you go up to him and grab it out of his hands. It's yours. "What were you doing in my room? why do you have my phone? why"—you look at the screen—"the fuck are you looking through my pictures." You're pissed. But, it's funny, you feel like you should be more pissed. It's like there's something your forgetting.

You look at the pictures he has open, and there's a few you don't recognize. Of you. They're just a few minutes old. Pictures of your ass sticking up in the air, with your dildo protruding from your pussy. "You little pervert! You were creeping on me." And as you say that, it hits you. If this isn't the first time he's gone through your phone…

You get calm. You're the maddest you think you've ever been, but you're very calm. "Did you find any good videos on here?" you say. You can see it in his fucking eyes. He did it.

"Um," he says.

That sounds a whole lot like a yes to you. "Call 911," you say, "because I'M ABOUT TO RIP YOUR DICK OFF!" You tackle him, and you both go crashing to the ground. You're trying to figure out how beating people up works when your parents come rushing in.

You're both fucked, you know. Your folks are pretty chill, but not so much that they're going to be okay with you being drunk, or making porn, for that matter. But it's worth it. Because your brother's fucked even harder. More importantly, you can prove you're innocent to Octavia.