Rarity's Generous Plan

by GenericUsername

Rating: mature
Tags: Sex, Tragedy, Caramel, Big Macintosh, Wonderbolts, Dark, Main 6, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Other
Length: 35014

Rarity decides that her friends need some rather unorthodox help to become better friends.

MOD EDIT: This story does indeed have permission to be posted with regards to the author not being the original.

Annoyed by her friends immaturity and naivety, Rarity comes to the conclusion that to become better friends, they need to brought into adulthood. As the Element of Generosity, she takes it upon herself to help them. She finds the perfect stallions and sets up the scenes. However, will getting raped really help her friends mature as ponies, or will it just leave scars that will never heal?

This story was written in its entirety by Tozac, and therefore it belongs to him. I'm just uploading it here after having fixed the spelling errors present in the pastebin version. For some more info read the Editor's Note.

Art(used with permission) by jlryan

Published 2012-08-01 04:14:03 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-01 04:14:03 UTC

Prologue

Through the pane glass of the picture window, five distant figures moved off towards the setting sun, pacing down the road together. Laughing. Joking. Playing. Not a care in the world as they soaked up the late summer sun and pranced in the warm breeze.
And here Rarity was stuck sewing.

It wasn't fair.

Not that she cared about herself, of course. Not that she would be so petty as to feel jealousy for her carefree friends while she slaved over a sewing machine to create wearable masterpieces of artistic splendor, each a unique product of incomprehensible fashion genius custom-tailored to the very ungrateful foals now trotting happily down the road without sparing her a single thought. No, this had nothing to do with self-pity, or jealousy. Because Rarity wasn't the type to feel sorry for herself.
She was only worried about her friends. Magnanimous as she was, knowing only generosity and consideration for others, all she could think as she ran the golden swatches of fabric repeatedly through the machine was that they were truly the unfortunate ones.

How pitiable they must be, to think so little of their most helpful and generous friend. Without judging, without hate, she felt sorry for them. They weren't the well-rounded friends they thought they were. They were... deficient. Lacking. Naive. Untrained. She couldn't be mad at them, not as warmhearted as she was. She only wanted to make them see. To enlighten them.

They needed to be brought into adulthood.

But how could she do that? How could she make them see how much more mature she was, emotionally? How could they know the true depths of the pool of friendship, like she did, if they still cantered about in the shallow end? Pinkie was throwing parties like a little foal and Twilight barely knew what friends were.

They didn't know the wholeness of the world, the other aspects of friendship. They couldn't see the hardships, the trials of friendship. They couldn't understand the loss, the love. They had never labored as Rarity did, with her complex relationships, her mature and sophisticated interactions. Could a brutish and uncultured pony like Applejack even know what it was like to long for the refined touch of a Prince Blueblood, or show him the perfumed air of a boudoir? Could they even comprehend...

That was it.
That was the key.

Their childish notion of what friendship really was, which stunted them in their empathy for the selfless white unicorn, had to be broken down. It had to be smelted down and reforged into something new. Something better. Something more... full. If they knew the depth and breadth of friendship, as she did, they wouldn't be so childishly dismissive and callously cruel to someone only trying to help them. They just needed their virgin minds expanded. Rarity had experienced the sights and sounds of the world, the tastes of more complex friendship, of relationships far deeper, smokier, more cultured. She was no naive filly, but a grown mare. She had known the touch of a wild stallion, and it was the enlightenment of adulthood that came with it.

That was it.
That was the key to helping them.

They had to know the true depths of friendship. The surge of love. The touch of a stallion. The passion of lovemaking.
If she wanted to help her friends, she was going to have to get them all to leave their virginities behind.

The elegant, benevolent, unappreciated white unicorn tossed her fabrics aside and replaced them with a small black notebook. Flipping it open, she produced a quill from her desk and held it high, her regal horn glowing with spectacular energy as it manipulated the ink across the page in her swirly script.
It was time to plan.

And a brilliant plan it was, really. It's amazing it hadn't occurred to her sooner. Rarity knew that her friends were all... inexperienced. Of the entire group, she was the only one who had truly graduated to adulthood, who had given her innocence to a wild stallion in a steamy boudoir, amid the lace and silk of the sensual sheets. But the others were all still virgins. And they couldn't possibly explore the depth of emotion in the world without having their own depths explored. So it was up to their very best friend, their generous benefactor, their guardian angel, to properly see to their education.

Of course, there might be complications. They might not understand, at first, the generosity of these efforts. They might not realize just how helpful and pivotal she would be in their maturation, their transition to true adulthood. But if you spare the rod, you spoil the child. Tough love was still love. And anyway, they'd surely thank her in time. Once they came around, they'd thank her. And then they'd all apologize for treating her so brutishly. For ignoring her.
For going off to play while she slaved over their fashion-ignorant whims.
And then they'd all go off to play together, the very best of friends once more.

So she could not emphasize enough how important this plan was.

Who would be first? She had to orchestrate their breaking-in carefully. Simply getting them into a situation where a stallion could bring them to adulthood was not enough. She wanted to make sure they were in no danger, of course. Not to be physically harmed. She wanted to make sure the colts she incorporated into her scheme took proper... precautions. She wanted to teach a lesson, but a careful hoof was required.
And of course, none of them could know she was behind it. It simply wouldn't do to show her cards too early in the game.

Handling each of her friends would be a delicate matter. She began to write notes, brainstorming furiously as the quill scratched brilliance across the pages of her notebook.
Twilight Sparkle. Bookish. Ivory tower. Naive. She would be an easy target. For all her book smarts she would never see a setup coming. Who would be the colt for the job? It wouldn't matter. Spike? No, he might back out. Might try to get her out of it in some misguided attempt at "helping" her. Better to go for a clueless colt. Even better that they could be insinuated under the guise of a student seeking tutoring. Who was that slow pony with the big ears? She wrote herself a note.
Applejack. A challenge. But so eager to help anyone in need she could be manipulated. A girl as tough as her would need a... sizable man to break her in properly.
Fluttershy. Almost too easy. She'd need a light touch. But firm. Rarity might have to intervene directly. Don't want to hurt her. Maybe find one of the less well-endowed colts in town to handle her.
Pinkie Pie. A stifled laugh. It would be like a game. If she told her it was a game, she'd probably tie HERSELF up and save Rarity the trouble. She needs a party she won't forget.
Rainbow Dash.

...Rainbow Dash.
A girl that stubborn, that strong, would need some real fancy maneuvering to get to. But it would be two birds with one stone: bringing her so helpfully into adulthood while also doing her the favor of dispelling her misguided notions of homosexuality. What better way to show her the pleasure of men than to have her experience it directly?

And who better to make her into a woman than the very men she respected most? It would be glorious. Lovely. Rainbow Dash being united in sexual awakening with her heroes.

That would be her pièce de résistance.

She continued writing. Furiously flipping page after page as her plot began to unfold on the paper before her. Her mind raced and her heart quickened, as the realization washed over her that such a plan truly was within her grasp. She had the wiles to get the stallions she needed to go along with it, as if they needed any more motivation than the virginities of these tender young fillies she would be giving away. She had the connections to get what she needed. She knew the right people. She had the right access. She briefly wondered if Celestia's guard could be bribed to turn a blind eye. For an even briefer moment, she considered getting them in on the fun directly.

Before long, Rarity had it almost all prepared. She knew she would have to act quick, to make sure her plans for her friends weren't spoiled. They wouldn't know it was generous Rarity all along who would be responsible for their blossoming into women. Not until the very end.
When it was too late.

Now, she nodded. Now she merely had to make one more big decision. Brought back to where she had started.
Who would be first?

Chapter 1: Fluttershy

"Thank y'kindly," Big McIntosh nodded in his subdued tone.

The well-built stallion politely took a sip from the teacup he'd been passed. Rarity looked on from across the counter of her fashion boutique, telekinetically hovering her own cup before herself, but not taking a drink. She wore a gorgeous but casual pink robe. A faint smile crossed her lips in the dim candlelight of the front room. The first move had been made. The scene was set. The trap was laid.
"Oh I do hope I'm not being a bother," Rarity said magnanimously as she watched the red stallion take another sip of the dark tea, "but things have been so hectic around the store with all the orders I have coming in. I just need a big strong man around to help out with... certain things."
Big Mac looked slowly across the polished counter to the white unicorn, pausing. From time to time when he went into town, he'd imagined the graceful Rarity had been paying him special attention, shooting a smoky glance now and then, but he'd always kept these thoughts carefully corralled. He'd convinced himself she was just naturally sensual, and any attention he saw was merely imagined. Or perhaps she was like this with everyone, and his unfamiliarity with the filly was clouding his judgment. But even for a pony as oblivious as Big Mac, that line seemed awfully overt. He blinked once and took another sip of this delicious herbal tea.
Maybe he was just imagining again.

"I'm glad to help," he murmured plainly.
"And what a help you are!" she exclaimed happily, leaning forward and reaching over the counter to tap his hoof with hers, his unshorn fetlocks long enough to reach the counter with that gorgeous red hue. Her robe hung open a bit, loosely cinched, and Mac's eyes instinctively began to wander down that pale form, tracing the hinted curves and exposed tracts of land that suddenly seemed so eager to be plowed. A single bead of sweat ran slowly down the stallion's forehead and he shifted slowly in his seat.
It was working rather well, Rarity thought to herself with expectant satisfaction. She had picked Mac specifically for his quiet nature, and though she had some reservations even now about the size of the sturdy stallion, she knew she was doing an act of charity today. Mac was a catch for any girl in town. Well-built, kind, and impressive in more ways than one. Any filly in Ponyville would be happy to have him for her first time. She smiled a bit more, convinced that she'd chosen well.

Mac took a quiet, slightly uncomfortable sip from his cup, finishing off the special tea Rarity had prepared for him, but not touched herself. The unicorn leaned back in her chair once more, her downy robe hanging off her bare white shoulders. Again the stallion found himself staring at that suggestive form, wondering idly how the addition of clothing to a mare could make her so much more alluring when she normally went about in the buff. He caught himself and quickly set the teacup down and forced his eager eyes off the young filly. He shifted again, growing more uncomfortable. He became aware of a vague ache.
"A big man like you," Rarity continued in her best sultry tone, "to help me with... certain things I just can't handle by myself."
Mac swallowed hard and nodded. He was oblivious, but even he could pick up the hints. He couldn't be imagining this. Heat rose to his face.
Rarity pushed away from the counter and hopped down from her seat, leaving her tea untouched. She circled about the counter, nonchalantly blowing out a single as she passed. The store was barely lit, main lights off, front door closed. It wasn't a business day, so it hadn't seemed suspicious when Mac entered. And she knew they wouldn't be disturbed.
Not until the time was right.

In the smoky, candle-lit room she circled around to him, the poor stallion sitting stiffly before her, still facing the counter. He dared not move as she came up behind him, placing a hoof against his side. The touch made him shiver just slightly. A wave of warmth crossed his muscled form. A mere touch had never felt so good.
"...You know," she began, "Before we get... started... I'd like to take your measurements. Would that be all right?" she asked in her most friendly and suggestive tone, nearly dripping over the wording. Mac bit his lip and nodded quickly, but said nothing for a moment. He felt tense, anxious. Eager. His head was getting cloudy with desire.
"...Eeyup."
He was so excited it was starting to hurt.

Rarity ran a hoof across his side as she set to work, tenderly tracing to his toned barrel-chested front. He just sat there, uncomfortable and aroused, nervously fixing his work collar. Measuring tape floated before him, wrapped around his chest, traced over his broad shoulders. He felt his shaggy mane being lifted, magically, and even this light touch made him shiver. His calm eyes began to glaze, half-lidded. His tension grew. He shifted his weight from one side to another. But the unicorn just smiled behind him.
So far, so good.

She stood up on her hind legs for a moment, resting her hooves on Mac's back as she measured and examined him. He nearly melted under her touch, his building tension starting to drain even as his face grew hotter. He lowered his strong neck and let out an audible sigh, which only encouraged the unicorn further. He felt hot. She could feel the warmth emanating off his back. He was losing himself, but he didn't care. He wasn't the type. He just accepted his situation, and with no small degree of pleasure. That anxious pain grew. As Rarity's words caressed his neck, he shifted a bit, to hide another development.
"You're frightfully big," Rarity murmured near his ear, impressed and complimentary, sparing no innuendo, however obvious. Mac smiled gently, shivering involuntarily under her warm breath. He closed his eyes, and thoughts flashed before him in the darkness. The pale, beautiful unicorn laid underneath him. The two wrapped together in a lover's embrace. Her riding him passionately as he lay on his back. He bit his lip as he imagined exploring her graceful curves with his tongue. He saw the candles around them. The smoky light of the boutique.
The tea.
"What to do with this handsome stallion?" she mused against his ear, still keeping up the flimsy pretense of taking his measurements as her tools hovered about the room, magically suspended. The unicorn's horn tenderly brushed his mane aside, and he glanced sideways at her, close enough to feel every word on her breath. His gentle eyes were deep and brilliant, yet covered in a thick haze now. Rarity could see the lust in his eyes, the heady abandonment. He was nearly departed from his senses. For a moment, she saw herself in his eyes, and wondered if she shouldn't just abandon this plan and give in to revelry. After all, she thought, any pony would be happy to roll in the hay with Big McIntosh. Even herself.

But she shook her head, smiling. No, she couldn't forget. She couldn't be greedy. Couldn't be selfish. This wasn't for her. It was for her friends. They were the ones who needed help.

He turned to face Rarity, nuzzling gently against her neck for a brief moment, and the unicorn gave a warm and encouraging sigh. There it was. He hadn't just imagined it. This was real. It was all he cared about. Mac shifted again, aching now. He gave up trying to hide his shame, having grown too much from this teasing to have any chance of concealing it. He was so stiff, he hurt. But he knew it wouldn't be like this much longer.
And Rarity saw. Her eyes fell discreetly to Big McIntosh's shame - or rather, his pride. She grinned, unseen, and bit her tongue. What a shame she wouldn't get to enjoy it. But that's the kind of selfless sacrifice she was used to making for her friends. She only hoped they'd appreciate it this time.
"Rarity," he murmured hotly, eager but controlled, "...Y'can't tell AJ about this." He leaned toward her ear, anxious to nibble it.
But suddenly, the unicorn pulled away.

"Oh my!" She said with forced surprise, "That reminds me! I completely forgot. I have to get Applejack's saddle fixed by this afternoon! Please, excuse me!"
She stood up and hurried to the door at the back of the store.
Mac looked on with his jaw hanging open. The sprig of wheat he carried in his mouth fell to the floor.
She couldn't be serious.
The door shut behind her.
She was serious.

He stared for a long moment at the back door, leading to Rarity's room. But she hadn't invited him along. In fact, it sounded like she locked the door. He couldn't believe it. Had he really misread her again? She had been so obvious. And now Mac throbbed in pain, worse than ever. He stood at full-mast, erect and eager, and a dull, deep pain rushed through him with every pulse of his heartbeat. He bit his lip and sighed shakily.

And then the door swung open with a jingle, and a familiar yellow filly paced inside.
"Oh. Hello," she murmured softly.

Mac startled, hunching forward suddenly. His hooves stamped the floor loudly and his collar rattled. He did what little he could to hide his raging erection, which pulsed painfully with every heartbeat. He had never ached like this in all his life. And now he knew he wasn't going to get any release. His vision was cloudy, hemmed in by darkness at the edges. Tunnel vision, like he'd get working too hard in the fields without taking a break. His heart pounded in his head. He could barely hear the filly over it as she spoke in her shy, muttered tone. It hurt. It was hard to think about anything else.
After an awkward pause, he glanced subtly, sideways towards her. He knew her. One of AJ's friends. Fluttershy? Yeah, that was it. She was cute. Cuter than he'd realized before.
Thankfully she was the shy sort. Broke eye contact after she came in. He didn't relax just yet, but Big Mac felt a little relieved that she wouldn't be looking too closely. He had too much to hide. She pawed her hoof at the floor a little awkwardly, her delicate wings folded against her slim sides. She WAS cute.

"Fluttershy, is that you?" Rarity's voice called out through the ceiling. "Oh thank you so much for coming! Do you mind closing up after yourself? I'll be out in just a minute!"
Fluttershy made some soft "oh" noise, barely audible, and turned to fix the door. She slipped the lock into place and turned the sign around, bringing the blinds down. The store was closed. Bathed only in candlelight, she sat patiently, if a little awkwardly, near the counter. Big Mac fidgeted uncomfortably.
The devious unicorn smiled in her room, peering through a hole in the floor, watching the two unseen from above. She'd just willingly sprung her own trap. It was brilliant, really.

Mac kept stealing glances at Fluttershy, but she didn't notice. He tried hard to keep his mind off sex. It wouldn't work.

The stallion's eyes traced over Fluttershy's back, down her haunches, over her rear. She was so small, so delicate, and yet so nicely shaped. It's not that Big McIntosh was into small girls, it's just that, well, relatively, nearly everyone in Ponyville was small compared to him. He couldn't exactly help that, could he? And he always thought himself gentle enough...
Please, he thought, just leave. Get out of here. Even as his eyes followed the curves of her hind legs, or lingered suggestively at her mouth.
Usually he had such self control, but now, he was just so tense. He ached so badly he couldn't stand it. His head was pounding with his heartbeat. He could barely see. He tried hard to cool down. Normally, he could. He could just will the thoughts away. But with every passing second, it just got worse and worse. He bit his lip and whimpered.

Fluttershy glanced to the big red pony suddenly, looking a little worried. "Um... Are you all right, Big McIntosh?" she asked gently, as though the mere question was a rude imposition she had to apologize for. "You look... more red than usual."
"Yes," he thought, "Please go away."
"No," he said, "I... could use some help."

He bit his lip. Why did he say that? He really couldn't help it. But Fluttershy seemed so innocent, he couldn't rope her into this. How old was she, again?

"Oh dear. What's wrong? What can I do?" she asked, a bit louder than before, stepping up to the stallion with a genuinely concerned expression.
Nothing, he thought.
Or everything.
He twitched, unseen. Throbbing. Aching. Raw.
He needed release.
He needed her.
Right here.

"Fluttershy," he said plainly, standing up a bit and turning to face her. She watched him, her tender gaze on his glazed eyes. She waited for him to continue, but movement caught her eye as he shifted his weight. She glanced beneath him.
Her eyes widened. Her cheeks turned red.
Somewhere upstairs, Rarity grinned, a cheshire cat in the darkness.

"Oh," she whispered shyly. She quickly glanced away, both out of embarrassment and respect, not wanting the stallion to feel more uncomfortable with her gaze upon him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" she stopped herself, unable to even continue that thought, trailing off instead.
He took the gesture as demure submission. Deep down he knew that's not what it was, but he convinced himself pretty quickly. Big McIntosh just stood and circled halfway around the delicate yellow pegasus. "I need yer help," he repeated heavily, eyes half-lidded with lust, heart pounding in his head, legs shaking and unsure. The suggestion made Fluttershy blush all the more.
"Oh... I'm sorry, I don't..." was all she could manage, nervously wringing her hooves together as she stared at the ground in embarrassment.
"Please," he murmured, more insistent than plaintive. He circled behind her, taking in the sight of that pretty little filly. Somewhere inside, he knew he was going too far. This wasn't who he was. He had never come on like this. But then, he'd never felt like this before. He'd never been this hard before, in all his life. His erection was so painfully stiff he was nearly wincing.
"Um, Big McIntosh, I- oh!" She startled, feeling Big Mac nuzzle against the small of her back. Her wings cinched in tight. Her face turned redder. She glanced over her shoulder to see the great stallion simply rubbing his face against her coat, eyes mostly closed, sighing. His breath was warm on her, uncomfortably intimate. Her eyes fell to the throbbing erection underneath him, pointed straight at her.
"It hurts," he muttered weakly, deeply. That caught her ear. She looked up meekly, and shoulders fell a bit.
"It... does?"
He nodded strongly, still pressing his head against her. "Like I ain't never felt."
He twitched visibly. She glanced away quickly, blushing, but her eyes came back to it a moment later.
"I can't," she whimpered, feeling more awkward than ever. She glanced to the door. "I'm sorry."

"But y'can," he insisted, not letting up his touch. She shrank a little. "An' it hurts somethin' terrible."
"Oh, um," Fluttershy stammered. She'd never been in a situation this awkward in her whole life. She didn't know what to say. She could never do something so dirty. She felt ashamed just being here. In a darkened room with an erect and aroused stallion. She wanted to leave. But he was between her and the door. She couldn't just push him away. And she had never known him to be so... But then again, Big Mac was clearly in pain, and it didn't feel right just refusing to help him. What could she do?
"What if," she began, speaking so softly it registered just under a whisper. Mac breathed unevenly, eyes closed as he nuzzled against Fluttershy's back, starting to move in a bit closer to her.
She smelled so good. It made him twitch again. He was starting to drip. She didn't notice.

"What if, um, well..." she stammered, tracing one hoof awkwardly on the floor. She wanted to move away from Mac's insistent touch, but she was frozen to the spot. "Don't you... Oh, I mean, can't you normally take care of that by yourself?" She asked as carefully as she could, not wanting to sound insulting or accusatory to the stallion she had always thought of as gentle-natured.
"Not like this," he sighed dismissively, hot against her. He moved up a little closer to her. She awkwardly rose to her feet, but didn't turn around. She felt ready to bolt, but some primal part of her worried that if she ran, it would just encourage him to chase. And in a way, it was true; her reluctance was only spurring him on.
Even if she had the assertiveness to just put her hoof down and say no, his insistence was making that option all the more inaccessible. She wanted to help him. She wanted to help anything in pain. But not like this.
What could she do? Fluttershy glanced down nervously, then stole a peek at his aching erection. Oh, no.

She'd treated wild animals, and they had no reason to be ashamed of what nature had given them. The concept of male anatomy wasn't alien to her. But she'd never seen a stallion like this. Certainly not this close.
He was insistent. She could feel his breath against her flank and he nuzzled against her delicate yellow legs. She nearly jumped. Her wings clamped all the tighter against her sides.
"Wait," she interrupted, louder than she meant to. "What if... I mean, would it help if I used my hooves to... um..." she trailed off.
Mac didn't respond. He just continued breathing hotly on her flank, nuzzling against her leg. He moved a bit closer to her backside and she really did jump. But she was too petrified, too close to the edge of panic to move away. She just froze up, standing in place as before. She shoved her tail firmly down over her rear. Obviously, that offer wasn't good enough. Her mind raced, her eyes darting about the room as she tried to think.
"Um," she whimpered almost too quiet to hear, "What if I... used my wings to...?" Did mares do that? Is that something stallions liked? She didn't even know. The thought of it was so dirty. Her delicate yellow wings unfolded slightly at the mention.

Mac leaned in, rolling his cheek against her side, beneath her opened wings. She jumped slightly, then relaxed a bit more. Fluttershy smiled just the slightest bit, in spite of herself. He was being so tender with her. Maybe he would settle for this after all. Maybe he was into wings?
But her brief moment of respite was broken when she felt the warm air of the boutique caress her rear, and looking suddenly over her shoulder, she saw the red stallion with the base of her tail in his teeth, pulling her cover aside. Her face turned crimson as Big Mac's eyes fell lustily across the filly's bared backside, tracing down the pert curve of her young ass, between her soft thighs, lingering lovingly on that tender, vulnerable little slit.

"Big Mac!"

The big stallion tried to clear his head when he heard her shout, but the haze wouldn't lift. He tossed his head and released Fluttershy's tail, moving it aside, leaving her uncovered. She swished it back into place and he just moved it again.
"Wait," she said, louder than she was used to, still trying to figure out some way out of this. "Wait, don't," she stammered in the meekest protest he'd ever heard.
This wasn't like him. He was a gentlecolt. But something inside him spurred him on. A tension in his stomach, a heat in his loins, and that unforgiving, throbbing pain between his legs. Besides, he told himself urgently, if this little filly really didn't want it, she'd just leave, wouldn't she? She was just playing hard to get. Just like Rarity.
He got up on his hind legs suddenly, and a moment later Fluttershy felt his hooves on her shoulders, pressing her down with the stallion's considerable weight. The force and surprise of it brought her front down to the ground almost instantly, and she made a delicate, adorable little squeak. He snorted lustily, feeling hot all over. His nostrils may as well have been pouring steam. His collar rattled as he adjusted himself roughly on top of her, the little filly trapped underneath the oversized stallion. He shifted his weight from one side to another, trying in his uncontrollable haze to line himself up. Fluttershy already knew what was happening. She'd seen her animals do it. She'd even seen Angel do it. But she didn't expect to find herself doing it, not like this. She knew what was happening, but that didn't mean she accepted it. She whimpered helplessly, wordlessly squeaking out what little protest she could muster. Her eyes were wide as she squirmed beneath him, weakly wriggling more from embarrassment than in an actual struggle to get away. She felt something hard and warm and slick brush against her leg and she squeaked again, more urgently.

Mac snorted. He could barely think of anything now. What little voice remained inside him to rationalize his actions was utterly gone, buried in his sea of lust. His warm breath came down over Fluttershy's head as he shifted above her.
It smelled like tea.

His rear hooves touched hers roughly, spreading them apart and allowing the stallion better access to the filly's unprotected, virgin little hole. She had never felt so helpless in her whole life. She felt exposed. She felt vulnerable. She felt a sudden rush of warmth against her as something hard and slick rubbed up insistently between her thighs. Unable to maneuver much, she glanced underneath herself, down her yellow tummy, to her spread legs. Between them, she could see the stallion's... filly-filler. Heavy, hanging balls behind a scary-looking shaft. Poised to penetrate her. Pointed perfectly at her pussy. Lined up between her parted thighs and pressing insistently against her tender little lips. Parting them all too eagerly. She felt pressure. Eagerness. The tip pressed firmly at her delicate entrance, and the pressure grew quickly. The stallion's shaft bent just slightly against the tightness, the resistance.
Her eyes went wider. Her face turned redder.
"Big Mac, wait," was all she could manage, so quiet it was lost beneath his panting.

And so was she.
Big Mac rolled his hips forward and Fluttershy let out a shaking, whimpering squeak as the tip finally pushed inside her, stretching her virgin walls wide around it. She tried to protest, but it escaped her as Mac drove deeper, not bothering to wait. A single, slow, long stroke. It left her breathless. She lost her composure and her front fell flat against the ground. Her mouth hung open silently and her watering eyes grew wider than ever. She felt every inch of him forcing its way inside her, in a way no colt ever had. Her mind blanked.

It was a single stroke, but it seemed to last forever. Every time Fluttershy thought it was over, it kept going. Another inch on top of everything she'd already taken. Deeper. Slow. Forceful. Firm. Mac didn't relent. The pressure remained. He wasn't bucking in anymore, just keeping the force of his cock against her and letting it part her resistance slowly, feeling her squeezing so tight around him, but slowly accepting. He wanted her to take it all. Even if she couldn't, he was still trying to grind his hips until they met hers. He couldn't see straight. His head was on fire. His cock still hurt, but at the same time, it had never felt this good. Not even close.
He didn't even feel her cherry pop. Neither did she. The force of everything else was just so overwhelming they didn't notice. But he knew she was a virgin. He could tell just by the feel of her, the way she reacted. His senses almost returned for a fleeting second. He hadn't considered he'd be deflowering her. He didn't think about what that might have meant. He wanted to. But she was warm and wet and as tight as a vice. He was in heaven.

Fluttershy didn't protest. She didn't whimper. She didn't even breathe. She lay underneath him with her shoulders pressed hard to the floor, her eyes wide and distant, her mouth hanging open silently. The feeling of penetration consuming every fiber of her being. Her hind legs quivered, her forelegs shook uncontrollably. It hurt. Maybe not as much as she had thought it might. But more than that, it was overwhelming. She could barely even make sense of the feeling.
Big Mac snorted and shook above her as he finally bottomed out inside her, stretching her helplessly around his painful, throbbing cock.
He held there for a long time, and as the feeling calmed just a little, Fluttershy finally exhaled, then took a deep breath. Her chest heaved. She blinked over and over. Her eyes wouldn't focus.
"Ah," was all she could squeak.

Fluttershy just lay there, utterly filled by the stallion's enormous shaft, buried deep between her thighs, past her tender lips. Her mind raced for preservation and she struggled just to inhale, as though her lungs were actually being impeded by the size of that thick, wet, dripping... thing, forced so intrusively deep inside her. She kept blanking. Nothing was coming into focus, but as the world sort of reappeared around her, the first thing she jumped to was trying to figure out what was going on. Where was she? How did she get into this? And just when she started to get her bearings again, her body was suddenly wracked with sensation once more, as Big McIntosh began to draw back out. Once again she intimately felt every inch of the massive stallion moving forcefully in her helpless little hole. She was wrapped so tightly around him she nearly scooted back along the floor as he began to pull out. And no sooner had he drawn a few inches out than he began to force himself back in, that thick, slick-wet shaft driving deeper into her helpless little hole and parting her tender lips like a blooming flower around him.
She gasped. She panted. He kept pushing in until he could go no further, paused for only a second, then drew back out another few inches. Slowly he began to work up a rhythm. His eyes became unfocused, his breathing began to even out, and at last he found a pace. Slow, deep, smooth, in and out. Firm, but still a little gentle. Not too fast. He wanted to pace himself to avoid hurting her too much, but even if he was free to just pound away, he preferred it this way. He liked that slow, tight feeling, savoring the sensation of those wet, tight virgin walls caressing him as he stroked into the little yellow filly, back and forth.
She exhaled unevenly between each long, measured thrust. She could still barely focus. The world was shaking around her. Her watery eyes couldn't be made to focus, no matter how much she blinked. She whimpered.

She was shaking underneath him. The sensation was so overwhelming it was all she could do to have even a single conscious thought rise above the surges of heat that filled her most intimate spot, to hear herself think over the throbbing noise in her ears, to focus on a single sensation beside that oversized cock forcing its way into her helpless, virgin... her once-virgin entrance. Her eyes watered from it, even as the pain was slowly beginning to subside. The world was crumbling down around her, her senses were flooded, her thighs were sore from spreading them so wide. Her hind legs parted a bit more, instinctively, giving Big Mac better access to her tight little hole, even if only to make it easier on herself. She didn't know how she'd gotten here. How she'd ended up pinned beneath this enormous stallion she used to think of as gentle, tender. She wanted to cry.

Big Mac sighed deeply as the waves of pleasure broke across him. He lowered his broad neck, and his warm breath cascaded down Fluttershy's neck, down her pinned shoulders. Her eyes widened a little and she let out a helpless squeak, suddenly turning redder than before. Her gaze fell downward toward the floor, away from the stallion mounting her. Despite his firm strokes, his repeated, deep thrusts, suddenly all she could focus on was his breath.
He pursued that reaction. Following her cute little squeak with absent-minded adoration, the dazed Mac brought his head down and sighed a hot sigh along Fluttershy's neck. She shivered. Her hind legs shook. He nuzzled up the side of her neck, then across her cheek. He nibbled her ear and the filly tensed up all over. He moaned at her tightness and she squeaked at the warmth of his mouth on her ear.
He nuzzled her face with his own. He kissed around her neck, but never once broke his rhythm, sliding in as deep as he could.

And with her face crimson red, she shyly, slowly turned to him and kissed his cheek.

Mac jumped on her response and enthusiastically began kissing her back. He lowered his neck, nuzzling against the pinned little filly, lips playing along her cheeks and nibbling her ears even as his slick, aching, dripping cock pumped rhythmically in and out of her deflowered little pussy. Her hind legs shook uncontrollably as she struggled just to keep her rear in the air, spread wide for that impossibly thick intruder. Even as she took it, she couldn't quite believe it. Big Mac barely believed it himself, but he was too lost in the passion of the moment to think about it. He just kept thrusting, slowly, smoothly. Long, deep, insistent strokes. Fluttershy squeaked again. Shivers ran up her back.

Mac nipped at the nape of her neck and she lifted her head up weakly. A faint whimper, eyes watering.
And then he kissed her.
On the lips.

Fluttershy's eyes went wide, freshly startled for the first time since he penetrated her. He drove his aching cock to the hilt inside her, tight and warm. He felt his broad chest heaving against her back. And he pressed against her lips with a surge of desire.

Her first kiss.

The little yellow pegasus closed her eyes. Tears streamed frankly down her face and she pushed back, giving in to it for just a moment. She barely even felt him anymore. Not anywhere but against her lips, kissing so warmly against her own mouth.
Passion surged through her. In spite of herself, a powerful orgasm suddenly broke, and washed over her from head to hoof, forcing her in deeper to the kiss. Her legs buckled, then gave out under the electric sensation. Her back arched high. Her knees hit the floor and Big Mac fell with her, his hips staying pressed to hers, his throbbing shaft buried inside her.
She gasped soundlessly against his mouth, jaw hanging open and lips pressed to his.

Caught completely by surprise, Big McIntosh felt himself fall as the young filly's legs gave out under him, his sturdy knees hitting the floor. His collar rattled with the impact and his chest came down on her back. They were pressed together tightly, and he could feel her gasping and panting beneath her. His breathing was ragged. The sensation of her whole body bucking and shivering beneath him, suddenly, was too much to bear. She was already tighter than any mare he'd been with, but to feel her orgasm on him, to feel the waves of pleasure pulse her warm, wet little pussy all around him, was simply more than he could take. Already built up by his own steady rhythm, Mac planted his hooves firmly on the floor, pinning Fluttershy more firmly and slamming into her as deep as possible, grinding his hips to hers. She gasped again, mouth hanging open breathlessly, eyes distant, far away. And then he came.

Fluttershy lay there, haunches raised as much as she could muster, feeling that enormous cock twitch and pulse inside her, Mac shuddering through a powerful orgasm as her own climax died down. She felt hot, wet, filled to overflowing. She knew what he was doing, but feeling it herself, so deep inside, was a totally foreign sensation. She shivered, whimpered, and finally rested her head on the floor between her hooves as his orgasm subsided and the thick wet spurts began to subside. The stallion pulled out slowly, making her shudder, and giving one her last shot across the backside, leaving a sticky, drippy, slick wet streak of white across her left flank.

Mac's senses came back slowly, uninvited. And aghast, he was hit with the weight of what he'd just done.

A long moment passed, and Fluttershy, lying dazed and tired on the floor, weak and used, vaguely felt Mac stepping off of her. Movement beside her. Warmth on her ear. His voice, uneasy.
"I-... I'm sorry," he muttered, quietly.
He sounded like he meant it.
He didn't know what else to say.

She couldn't be mad. She felt hurt, confused. She wanted to cry. But she couldn't be mad.
She lay there, unmoving, inhaling and exhaling slowly. Her mind was nearly blank. She couldn't think about what just happened. She couldn't sit up. She couldn't even lift her eyes. Not that she wanted to look at Big Mac anyway. She just wanted him to go. Why wouldn't he just go?

But he didn't leave yet. He stayed there, kneeling beside her. He couldn't explain himself. He certainly couldn't excuse himself, not for what he'd just done to this poor little filly. She just lay there.
He was worried he'd broken her. He looked after her a long moment, then sighed, hanging his head. He wasn't ashamed of the act, or of being with her. But he had never been so ashamed of his behavior. But still, he couldn't find the words. He never was very good with them.
He wondered if he could ever fix this.

Without thinking, he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. She startled suddenly, pulling away instinctively, like she'd been stung. She looked up at him, eyes watery, full of surprise and fear. He looked back, his expression cowed. He shouldn't have done that, he thought. What kind of a thing was that to do, after he'd just hurt this girl like that?

But she couldn't look away from the stallion's eyes now. So big and gentle.
She panted quietly. Her chest started to feel a little less tight.

Mac glanced away, trying to think. He felt about three feet tall. He turned back to the young filly, and all of a sudden she leaned up towards him, eyes weak, but set on him.

They leaned in closer, and they kissed.
And she started to cry.

Tears streamed plainly down the filly's gentle face as Fluttershy put her arm over Big Mac's broad neck, kissing him softly. And he kissed back.

And somewhere in the room above, Rarity grinned.
One down. Four to go.

Chapter 2: Applejack

Tender, ripe fruit ready for the picking dangled tantalizingly on the branches of the old apple tree.
A more apt image Rarity could not imagine, as she crouched hidden amongst the dense foliage, peeking through the leaves of the great old tree down to the orchards and farmhouse beyond. She watched from her covert spot as the young orange filly below paced from tree to tree in a nearby plot, coming to each in turn and delivering a sharp blow, bucking the trunk to harvest the fruit.
Applejack reared forward, and kicked the nearest tree. A rain of hearty red apples showered down from above her, each ripe fruit landing neatly in a wooden bin which had been positioned precisely just below, all laid out with care to catch the harvest. Rarity smiled without quite knowing why.

The unicorn watched for a while, as Applejack made her way predictably through the plot, until its last tree had been shaken free of fruit. Then she began to haul the bins back, lining them up outside the nearby hay barn.
It wasn't long before three distant figures appeared on the horizon, cresting one of the many hills surrounding Sweet Apple Acres. Rarity saw them long before Applejack. The earth pony just kept on toting those bins as they approached. Closer still, and no sign of recognition. It wasn't until they actually reached the fence Applejack noticed them.
Three tall, pure white stallions. Squared features. Almost statuesque. Golden armor. Blue manes done up in crests over gilded helmets.
Princess Celestia's Royal Guard.

Applejack paused, staring across the field to them from her barn, but quickly remembered herself and trotted over. She nodded, respectfully, and offered a warm smile. She was always so hospitable. So welcoming to everypony. And the Royal Guard certainly warranted an extra special welcome, didn't they?
Rarity grinned wider, watching the scene beyond.
The trap was springing.
Not even Applejack could get out of this one.

She took them in one by one. Where their cutie marks would be, on their croupiers, there were printed insignias, and images of weapons. "Well howdy," she offered them with her characteristic enthusiasm. She couldn't imagine why they'd be here, but she gave every courtesy. "What c'n I do for y'all on this gorgeous day?" She was smiling.
They weren't.

"Are you the pony called Applejack?" The first asked in a steely voice. Deep tone. No hint of emotion. He barely moved. He didn't seem to even blink. He bore a spear's image on his armor.
"Yep, that's me," she nodded. "Can I help y'all?" Her smile remained. But now she was a little concerned.
"Applejack..." the second glanced down, producing a small scroll of paper, unfolding it to read. His image was a sword. "...Applejack... Apple?" he asked, not quite sure of it himself.
The first glanced sharply over his shoulder. "You idiot, that's not right."
"It says 'Applejack, of Apple Family'." He said plainly, his voice flat but insistent.
The third wore the image of a club. He piped up. "That doesn't mean her name is 'Applejack Apple'. That's a stupid name."
"Oh okay, sure, because nopony in this town has a stupid name."
The Spear-marked stallion scowled at both of them. "You're supposed to be Celestia's best. Start acting like it! It doesn't matter how stupid her name-"
Applejack cleared her throat audibly. "Can I HELP y'all?" She repeated. The guards all turned back to her.

"Miss Apple," Sword said firmly, pushing the gate open on the fence and stepping into the orchard, "We're going to have to take a look around."
"Come again?" AJ blinked, cocking her head to one side.
The other two followed him in, past the gate. Applejack paced back a bit, keeping up with them.
"We have reason to suspect contraband on this property." the spear-marked stallion said.
"This is a warrant to search the premises," the sword-marked guard said, shoving a scroll rudely at her face.

"There's gotta be a mistake," AJ murmured, convinced of just that as she unfurled the scroll with one hoof and sat down to read it.
"No mistake," the club-marked guard responded tersely.
"Well I ain't done nothin' wrong!" she affirmed confidently, eyes poring over the wordy script beneath her.
It looked legit.
"That's for us to discern," one of the guards shot back.
Applejack was getting a bit worried now. She glanced back and forth between the scroll to the guards who now made their way to the barn. Who began to rummage through the bins out front. They searched with an aggressive enthusiasm, rifling through the crops, but with a sort of carelessness that made it seem they weren't looking for anything at all. She made a few urgent but wordless exhalations as she watched, trying to think of something to say but finding nothing.
The club-guard overturned a bin. Apples spilled everywhere, tumbling across the ground.
AJ startled a bit. "Hey now!" she shouted, her outburst a mix of both worry and anger. "I just bucked those!" she protested, stamping a hoof. "Watch it!"
The guards glanced at her all at once, then went back to work without saying anything.

The orange earth pony shifted her weight uneasily from one hoof to another. She looked on uncomfortably as the guards continued to nearly ransack her fresh harvest. Another bin was overturned, and still they persisted. Finally, the guard with the spear emblem nodded to the barn door.
"What's in here?"
"That's just an old hay barn."
The guard furrowed his brow. "What's in it?" he repeated.
AJ stared at him blankly, then cocked her head and raised a brow. "Uh... hay?" she responded, as if suspecting a trick question.
The three white stallions shared a knowing look and nodded back to the barn.
"Show us," the spear-pony said in a firm deadpan, "You go ahead of us."

AJ sighed, slumped her shoulders, and rolled her eyes so hard it felt like they were going to fall out of her skull. "For cryin' out loud," she murmured, walking to the barn, "I don't know what all this is about but y'all aren't gonna find nothin' out a'place."
The athletic young earth pony walked in past the paint-peeled door, entering the dusty, stale darkness of the old wooden barn. Hay filled the barn, both in bales and in loose, scattered piles. The ground itself was covered in a thick layer, and the dirt floor couldn't be seen through the thick accumulation of golden-brown.
She walked a good way into the unlit barn, then sight, glancing over her shoulder. "See? I told you: there ain't nothin' in here but hay 'n' dust mites."

The barn door closed suddenly, enveloping the room in darkness. Dusty sunlight streamed in through slats in the walls where the old wooden planks had grown weak or crooked, ravaged by time and disuse. AJ startled, glancing at the three guards who paced in behind her. "Now what was that for?" she asked, more confused than anything.
"Shut up," the spear-pony barked at her. His limited patience had run out and his already gruff tone became wholly unpleasant. AJ pulled back as if struck, so caught off-guard was she by the rude response.
The white stallions came in closer, pacing over the dried hay. Even in the filtered sunlight, she could see their stern expressions had become downright threatening.
"Hooves up against the wall," the spear instructed. "Spread your legs."
"What?" AJ demanded, incredulous.
"Hooves up against the wall. And spread your legs."
Applejack paused for a long moment, looking at them with uncertainty. But their expressions were like stone. They never wavered.
They weren't kidding.

Applejack didn't say anything. The orange earth pony grumbled, took a few steps toward the nearest wall, and in the dim light of the darkened barn, stood up on her hind legs and put her hooves against the wall.
"Spread your legs," the spear repeated.
Her ears folded down and she muttered something under her breath, but complied. She'd never been frisked before.
She'd also never had a boy tell her to spread her legs.

The three white pegasus stallions approached her. The club and sword stood back, while the spear approached. He sat behind her and started patting her down, hooves on the sides of her flank.
"This ain't necessary. I ain't carryin' anything. I ain't even wearin' any clothes!" Applejack sighed, rolling her eyes.
"I noticed," the spear said. His voice had an edge to it, a very subtle tone. Something about the way he said "noticed". It made her suddenly uncomfortable, and she blushed without knowing why.
He patted down her sides, soon reaching her hips. She felt his hooves up and down her flanks, then in closer towards her rear. Applejack stared uncomfortably at the wall and bit her tongue when he pulled her tail aside, turning red. The guard began to pat roughly along the inside of her thighs. Still she just stared at the aged wooden wall in front of her.
"Watch it," she muttered through her teeth.
"I am," the guard replied with the faintest smirk.
The spear reached forward and put his hooves between her thighs, pushing outward to the sides and forcing the earth pony's legs to spread out wider. Leaning down, he took in the sight of her. A subdued smile crossed the guard's face, breaking the deadpan facade for a moment. He inhaled deeply, enjoying her scent. Clean sweat from a day's hard work accentuated the smell further. The other two stallions glanced at each other strangely. Applejack tried to look over her shoulder.
"Now what the hay are you doin' back there?" she asked with a voice of nervous concern. She couldn't see the pony sitting behind her in this position.
He spread her thighs a bit more, roughly, and inhaled deeper. His eyes glazed and his smile broadened, taking in the young mare's sights and scents. He shivered involuntarily, shoulders trembling, and sighed contentedly.

Applejack felt his hot breath flowing across her inner thighs and over her more sensitive areas. She startled, caught off-guard in an
already uncomfortable position, and strained to look back over her shoulder.
"Hey! What in th' name a' good graces d'ya think you're doin'?!" she demanded, blushing visibly even in the dusky light of the barn. Her legs quivered uncomfortably, but the guard held his hooves between them, keeping her spread. Sweat was forming on her forehead. She wanted to wheel around and slap the stallion, but her fore legs remained planted against the wall. She knew better than to assault a Royal Guard.
"I said shut up," the spear murmured breathily. He leaned in more, placing his head against her bare flank and nosing in between her thighs. When she felt him touch her there, she jumped so sharply her hat nearly came off.
She dropped from her standing position and turned around suddenly, bringing her tail down to cover her rear protectively. Her face was burning with a powerful blush but her expression was determined, accusatory enough to hide her nervousness. Deep down she knew she was in trouble.
She just didn't know quite the extent of it yet.

"I know what this is about," she snapped, stamping one hoof down as she faced the three white stallions who'd moved in even closer. "This is a shakedown! So what, is this 'cause I wouldn't sell the east orchard t'the city?"
The pegasus guards didn't respond.
They moved in closer, surrounding her. Their golden armor glinted in the filtered, dusty sunlight that streamed in. The smell of hay was all around them.
Applejack briefly considered calling for help. But this was her mess. She had to handle it herself. She was strong enough to face them. She had to be.

"Turn around, and spread your legs," the spear ordered plainly. A hint of impatience in his voice, but still so flat. His armor was unclasped. The croupier was coming off. The young orange pony stared at the stallion. She gulped nervously, but kept a firm expression. She knew where they were going.
"No," AJ said, staring him down.
"We can do this the easy way or the hard way," the club offered with a faint smirk.
"We don't want to hurt you," the sword said, sounding almost genuine.
"Spread your legs, or we'll spread them for you." The spear grinned, stepping right up to AJ. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face. But she didn't shrink back. Didn't even blink.
"I ain't afraid a'you," she spat.
The spear smiled. His expression broke for the first time, a wide, plain grin extending across his pale face. His wings unfurled. "Guess it's the hard way, then. Boys?"

They were on her in a second. AJ was a strong earth pony and spent her days exercising and working in the fields, but the three stallions were larger than she, older, trained. Tough. Too tough. She struggled against them, but it was in vain.
For a moment, the only sounds were the scuffling of hay and soft, muffled grunting as the four ponies tussled, grappling. When it was over, she found her shoulders pinned by the club, her head down, the side of her face pressed hard against the hay-scattered dirt floor. Her hat had been knocked off, lying nearby, upside-down. She felt the others moving behind her. Felt hooves on her ankles, rudely shoving her legs apart. Felt her tail being yanked painfully, pulled aside to uncover her rear, exposing her in the dim light. She blushed and scowled, baring her teeth. She tried to stand, but the hooves on her back kept her pinned.
"Y'ain't nothin' but a bunch a'thugs!" she cried angrily.

Behind her, the spear was enjoying the sight of the young earth pony utterly bared before him. He nosed along the curve of her toned ass, along her muscular thighs. Again he inhaled deeply and shuddered, sighing. Warm breath against her flanks. Over her thighs. Under her tail, and over her naked mound, her most private part. She grumbled and tried to force her way back up, but still, couldn't get out from under the three guards that held her down.
"Holy cow," one of the guards behind her murmured in awe, "she's got an incredible pussy." AJ turned redder and scowled.
"Clean and tight," the other agreed, talking about her as though she weren't even there. "Smooth as a peach."
"Or an apple," the first joked, lamely.
"Looks good enough to eat." He grinned.
The spear closed his eyes, leaning in, and flicked his strong tongue out between her thighs, right across Applejack's tender little lips. She jumped, not expecting that kind of touch, and certainly not used to the wet, warm sensation. She wasn't able to move much, but she startled visibly. The guards all chuckled. They were so amused by her plight.
"Hey!" she protested with an angry shout, her hind legs shaking just slightly.
The spear just planted his hooves against her flanks and went back to work, licking firmly up and down her pink little slit. She stiffened up, eyes widening at the intrusive sensation, and strained to move her hindquarters away from the lascivious guard. It was no use. He held her there tight and kept licking against firmly her, his tongue running the length of her lips, front to back as she lay there with her ass high in the air. He ran the tip of his tongue over her tiny little love button, and she jerked her hips forward, the electric sensation catching her off-guard. He pressed in more firmly, parting her pert lips around his tongue and sliding the tip upward, tasting her intimately.
"Gah!" She gasped, wide-eyed. She'd never felt anything like it before. If she wasn't so disgusted she might have had a chance to enjoy it.

"She tastes even better than she smells," the spear sighed happily, leaning back. He wiped his face with one hoof and stood up.
AJ struggled still, trying to buck the club off her back. But he was too heavy, too firm. All she could focus on was her defiance. She couldn't even think about what they'd just done. Or what they were surely about to do. She grunted and strained, but she couldn't move him. "Get off me, you thug!"
"Maybe if you get me off first," he grinned back. It wasn't a particularly clever play on words.
"Thugs! Lowlifes! Apple-pickin' degenerates!" She cried, nearly thrashing.
"You'd better close your mouth," the spear advised from behind her with a cocky grin. "Otherwise we might have to gag you."
"Huh huh huh, yeah," the club chuckled beside her. He shifted slightly, parting his hind legs, keeping his fore legs pinning AJ's shoulders. She glanced sideways at him, meeting his lusty, cruel gaze, then followed his eyes down. Her blush rose and a look of nervousness and fear suddenly crossed her face. An immense, dark erection stood out before her, poking out from beneath the seated club, only a few inches from her freckled young face. She stared for a second, watching the oversized thing twitching in the dim light, then glanced away sharply. She bit her lip. She groaned uncomfortably. But she didn't yell.
"That's better," the spear grinned. He reared up, planted his hooves on either side of AJ's raised hips. She knew what was coming, even before she felt the slicked tip of the guard's eager cock pressing against her. She was already wet. Not because she wanted it. Of course not. He had given her very enthusiastic lip service. He had gotten her ready for this. She scowled, struggled. She felt him starting to press in against her, her neat little lips around his tip. He didn't waste time. He didn't warm up. He just began to press in forcefully, lined up right at her virgin entrance.
"Damn you!" she cried, throwing out the strongest swear she knew.
And then it went in.
She yelped, dug her fore hooves into the hay. The sensation was sharp, painful, and sudden. She exhaled with a whimper. Tears formed in her eyes as the pain made her wince, but she bit her tongue hard and forced them back.
"Is she cherry?" the club asked.
"She was," the spear grinned back from his mounted position.

He wasn't very deep inside her. She was tight, and her muscular build only added to that resistance. She was tense and stubborn and a little scared, and wasn't making it easier for him. But he continued, grinding towards her, thrusting in without pulling out. With every move he forced himself in deeper, never giving an inch back. It was slow, forceful, awkward. But he was enjoying every second of it, grinning proudly from his mounted pose as if he were atop a winner's podium. Beneath him, Applejack groaned, clenching her teeth. He wasn't as big as she'd feared, but she had nothing to compare him to. She was struggling to buck him off, but her efforts grew weaker and weaker as he slid that awful thing deeper inside her. She knew that it would hurt less, that it would be easier if she just relaxed. But she couldn't. On principal she couldn't give in, not the slightest bit.
Finally, she realized, he had gone as far as he could. She groaned quietly as he began to grind his hips against her backside, hooves around her waist, pulling her back against him. He moaned, out of his mind with pleasure, nearly shaking. He leaned forward, his head down beside hers. She didn't look back at him.
"What's the matter, little filly?" he asked cruelly, whispering hotly into her ear. "Still don't realize where you are, do you?"
Applejack scowled, bit her tongue, scraped her hooves on the floor. "Do what y'want," she spat from behind clenched teeth and watering eyes. "Y'won't make me scream. I ain't gonna give you the pleasure."
The white stallion laughed, rubbing his head against her. He still wore his metal helmet, cold against her neck. He moaned right in her ear, nipping at it, and she felt goosebumps suddenly race down her back.
"We'll see about that."

With the spear keeping her pinned and mounted from behind and the club keeping her shoulders down on the floor, the sword circled around her. He watched her, and she returned his gaze, unblinking. Her face was hurt and angry, humiliated but defiant. She grimaced as the stallion behind her slowly withdrew, pulling that throbbing shaft out inch by inch, then slowly forcing it back inside. The thickness of it spread her normally neat-looking pussy wide around it, her pink lips visible as he withdrew. And she was wet, dripping to the point that even now her inner thighs were becoming slick. But as she struggled, resisting, the spear found his progress nearly as difficult as before.
The sword kneeled down beside her, still watching her face. He spoke in a quiet tone, which surprised her more than any threat could have.
"Try to relax. It won't hurt so much."
"Nnh," she grunted, sweat now pouring from her brow, her unkempt hair damp. "Don't act like you care." The orange earth pony struggled to get out as the stallion behind her began to speed up, trying to find a good pace to pump away at her vice-like tightness.
"I don't like seeing you hurt," he said plainly.
"Ah!" she yelped suddenly, grinding her hooves on the floor as the spear fucked her deeper and harder, pounding against her. His hips smacked against her rear, producing an awful, obscene noise that filled the dusky barn, and his dark, heavy balls swayed beneath them in the rhythm he'd found. He slid in and out with less resistance, but each stroke was rough and sharp, not smooth, or even. Forceful, almost angry. She felt her legs quiver and she struggled to keep her senses keen even as the feeling began to overwhelm her. She always had something of a libido, and found dirty thoughts sometimes kept good company when she was out bucking the bumper crop, but this wasn't anything like her fantasies. The sensations of being drilled so powerfully were getting the best of her, but she fought off the clouds creeping in on her consciousness far better than she fought off the guards themselves.

"Horsefeathers," she growled at the sword, one eye closed tightly as she panted beneath the other stallion. "Then why... ahh! Why are you doin' this?!"
The guard stared back at her with a strange expression, as though he'd just been struck. His mouth hung open for a second, then he glanced down, staring at the hay-covered floor in silence.
AJ's attention was stolen back as the pegasus mounting her began to suddenly pick up speed, slamming relentlessly in and out of her, his slick, aching cock pulsing in overwhelming pleasure and eager anticipation. Her virgin pussy was so tight around him, and so warm, so wet, so perfect. He leaned back a bit, awkwardly, as he continued to fuck her tight little hole, watching as those cute little lips were stretched around his dark shaft. "Ghahhh," he moaned, out of his mind with the sensation.
Applejack struggled just to keep herself in one piece, holding on to her anger, her resentment, to avoid having to think about what was actually happening. She had to be strong. She had to get out of this, somehow. She wouldn't be pitied. Especially not by the same thugs who were inflicting this punishment in the first place.
She became vaguely aware of a wet, warm sensation against her cheek, and glanced towards it to see the club had shuffled forward, hind legs spread, to rudely press his wet and dripping erection against her face. She scowled again, distracted from the forceful fucking long enough to show her disgust with this new development.
Growing up with an older brother, it wasn't as though that... part had been a mystery to her, but peeping was miles different from having something like that shoved in her face, rubbed against her cheek, smearing her with that slick, clear, stickiness.
He stroked against her cheek, thrusting his hips slowly, gingerly back and forth from his half-seated position. Even as he smeared precum against her cheeks, towards her nose, even as the musky scent filled her nostrils and the warm wetness began to accumulate and drip down towards her chin, all she could think about was how stupid he looked like that, and how ugly his thing was, especially up close. She turned her head away and huffed angrily.
"Turn her head back this way," the club said to the sword with a nod at the disobedient earth pony.
The sword glanced up at him, then glanced back down. He didn't do anything.
"Come on," the club groaned impatiently, stroking himself along AJ's neck.

"Oh-" the spear-marked pegasus pony mounting AJ moaned suddenly. His breathing was quick, his chest was heaving against her back, and what little armor he still wore rattled loudly. "I'm right there," he sighed shakily.
Applejack growled, baring her teeth. She didn't know quite what he meant but had enough sense to know it was bad. She couldn't think of anything to say. She struggled, but couldn't move. She bucked, forcing her hips back at him, but it only made him moan. She turned red, and promptly stopped trying that. She couldn't scream. She wouldn't call out. She didn't even want to be found like this.
"Hurry up and get this over with, I got apples to buck." She spat her defiance through clenched teeth, doing her best to seem brave and unaffected even as she fought back tears. Don't show weakness, she thought. Don't let them win.
He muttered some swear she had never heard and clamped his hooves hard against her hips, pulling her back against him. He pounded her relentlessly, and she groaned, bracing herself to withstand it. He went wild, and her legs twitched as he penetrated her deeper than ever before. She whimpered, a quiet squeak as the sensation overwhelmed her. It was more surprising than painful. Her eyes widened. He throbbed. Twitched.
He came powerfully, deep inside her, but never stopped thrusting. He continued fucking her right through his orgasm, his cock slamming in and out of that vulnerable little hole, spurting gooey white wetness into the used orange pony. Lubricated by the thick, hot cum spilling into her, he actually sped up, reaching a fever pitch, bucking into her as fast as he could. He was a machine. An animal. AJ whimpered again and nearly collapsed completely.
At last he drew out, unceremoniously dropping off her back and leaving her empty. Slick, sticky white semen dripped down her thighs as he pulled out messily. He sighed in contentment, resting for only a moment. Then the guard quickly realized AJ's situation and hurried forward, keeping her pinned without re-mounting her. It took at least two of them to keep her down.

"If I'd known she would be like that..." he began with a contented grin, almost breathless, before trailing off. He smiled wider beneath his gilded helmet, not bothering to finish that thought in any concrete way.
Applejack panted hotly. It was a summer day, but she could swear she almost saw her breath before her in the dark and drafty barn. Her vision was blurry, both from the tears in her eyes and from the exhaustion of the act. She couldn't quite understand it. Though she struggled, she'd been through more demanding physical challenges just in the fields alone, and yet she was so drained, so weary. The guards could sense it, too, and their rough hooves pinning her so hard to the floor seemed like they were letting up the slightest bit.
She ached all over. Her limbs were sore. Her poor little pussy was sore and stinging from the abuse it had just withstood. She kept her flank raised high, letting the cool air of the barn wash over her bared ass,

"My turn," the club grinned, eagerly. He nodded to the spear and he nodded back, and with their hooves crassly moving across the orange pony's back, they quickly switched places without letting her up. Applejack strained to glance at them, to take in the scene, but couldn't turn much in this pinned position. The sword pony didn't seem to have moved. He had his hooves on her fore leg, but he wasn't holding her down very firmly at all. She could probably break away if she tried, but she still wouldn't be able to get up. She just scowled at him, but the stallion didn't even look up to meet her gaze.

She managed to turn her head to the other side, to get a look at the spear guard who now sat near her head. He was wilting visibly, his ugly-looking boy part drooping like some dying plant. It was streaked white gooey white trails, dripping heavily. It wasn't as big as it must have been, but it was surely smaller than the club guard's.
"If he thinks he's going to wipe that off on my face too, he's got another think comin'." AJ affirmed inwardly.
That's when it hit her. The club was bigger. The pony who even now was climbing onto her back, mounting her, hooves on her hips. She hadn't even had a minute to recover. She was already sore and felt stretched to her limits, and her legs were so weak they threatened to buckle. The sword's hooves on her fore leg pressed more firmly, but still didn't quite keep her pinned.
In her mind she could see it, that thick, throbbing, rock-hard shaft that had been rubbing so rudely on her face now poised behind her, lining up with the young mare's most vulnerable spot. Helpless. Unprotected. About to be speared again by that enormous rod, that giant, drippy, ugly cock ready to invade her hapless little pussy. Her heart went tight in her chest. Sweat poured down her face. Tears welled up.

Some things were more important than pride.
"Help," she whimpered, almost silent. "Help."
The hooves on her fore leg lightened up a bit, but still the other two stallions kept her pinned.
"Help me!" she called out, her voice urgent but unbroken.

Outside the barn, on the darkened side, peering in through the slats, Rarity stood unnoticed. She watched the scene unfold. Something in her stirred as Applejack screamed. The stubborn, manner-less orange earth pony inside was calling for help. Rarity's heart jumped just slightly. She glanced away from the scene for a moment, then pressed her face back to the wall of the barn, peering into the musty darkness, one hoof beside her eyes to block the sun.
"Help!" the cry came out again.
Rarity bit her lip. She shifted slightly in place, looking on.
Maybe that was far enough.
No! She had to be strong. For her friend's sake. She had to see this through. She had to carry out her plan in full.
"Help me!" AJ thrashed as the club-marked stallion, towering over her, mounted the orange pony from behind. He chuckled, unmoved by her cries.
Maybe this had gone on long enough. Rarity hesitated. AJ had to learn her lesson. Otherwise she'd never become a better friend.
The club stallion shifted his weight on her back.
Maybe she had learned her lesson already.
Rarity was torn with indecision. She watched impatiently.
What should she do?

Inside the barn, Applejack struggled, writhing about, sweating and squirming beneath the stallions keeping her pinned to the ground. "Somepony help me!" she shouted urgently.
"Scream all you want," the spear pony grinned. "Not a soul will hear you."
The club pony grinned too. He began to line himself up, eager for his turn.
"Anypony, PLEASE!" she yelled, squirming and trying to avoid being taken so roughly a second time. She strained to look over her shoulder.
The club caught her eye, and smiled cruelly down at her.
"Nobody's going to hear you, little filly," he smirked.
He towered over her. Tall, full grown. Too fully grown. She couldn't look away from him.
He grinned widely and shuffled his weight, lining up against her tender wetness.
He pushed up and down tauntingly a few times, running the underside of his dark, veiny shaft against her dripping pink entrance.
He gripped her hips more tightly.
A shadow fell.

All at once he tumbled forward, rolling off of the orange pony and onto the floor, collapsing in a heap in the hay, on his side. The other two stallions looked at him, jaws agape, startled. The sword looked like he was about to say something, but an enormous hoof came down first, cracking him across the jaw. The spear-marked white pegasus stood up, planting his hooves uneasily. He was still drained from his earlier act. He hadn't taken a single step before the newcomer smashed headlong into him, headbutting him square in the face, beneath his helmet.
AJ sighed deeply.
Mac.

There was a flurry of movement. AJ was too weak and exhausted to keep up with it all. But the white stallions had been caught utterly off-guard by an overprotective brother that outmatched even them in size and strength. He didn't hold back. He didn't care about the consequences, or the trouble it could get him in. He charged.
Somewhere outside, Rarity sighed in relief.

In short order, the furious assault had them scattering. The royal guards fled, armor in tow, and flew off over the fields with their tails between their legs. Applejack finally collapsed onto the hay-covered dirt floor, lying flat, panting hard. She could barely catch her breath, let alone find all her senses.

"AJ," Mac began weakly, "I'm so sorry."
He panted as well, still in good shape for the beating he'd just handed out. Adrenalin coursed through him.
"Pff," Applejack sighed, shaking her head weakly. "You saved my behind." Pausing for a moment to consider her own phrasing, she added, "I mean, really." She glanced to her hat, but it was out of reach and she was too exhausted to stand.
"I wish I'd gotten here sooner," he muttered, ashamed. "I'm s'posed to protect you."
AJ exhaled deeply, her chest rising and falling as she lay there flat on the ground. She didn't let her mind return to the act. She just stayed in the present. She was safe. In spite of everything she'd been through, she managed to put on a strong face.
"You already protected me, Mac." She smiled weakly.
"I just..." he stamped the floor, looking down. "I know you were savin' your cherry for when you got married..."
A long pause.
Startling her brother, Applejack actually laughed.
"Shoot," she smirked, wearily but with a characteristic spark to her tone, "I don't care 'bout that. I just said it so you'd stop askin' me every time we played doctor."
Mac looked at her with wide eyes, and his red face turned redder. "AJ! How c'n you talk like that?"
She glanced over her shoulder, looking back at her older brother. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

She rested her head on the hay scattered around the floor beside her, breathing deeply, trying to recover. Part of her just wanted to lay there forever. But she was too determined to give up like that. She could rest later. She opened her eyes to see Big McIntosh standing right behind her, sprig of wheat in his mouth, focused somewhere down at her hindquarters. She raised a brow, following his gaze down to herself, glancing past her dirt-scuffed tail. He was staring. She scoffed, cleared her throat. Mac suddenly glanced up to meet her eyes.
"You gonna help me up'r what?" she asked, placing one hoof on her hip. Mac blushed.
"Sorry, sis." He paced around to her side, nosing her her chest and helping lift her with his strong, broad neck.
"What were you doin' 'round here anyway? Thought you were goin' to town today."
"I was," he answered plainly, helping her back to her shaky feet. She looked uncertain, but didn't fall. "But Fluttershy needed me to pick somethin' up from home."
They turned toward the barn door together, the orange filly leaning on her brother as they walked. "Fluttershy?" she asked absently, "What in the hay you doin' hangin' around with her?"
Together they stepped into the sunlight. Mac shrugged, avoiding the question. "You need a bath," was all he answered. "C'mon."

Rarity sighed, resting against the wall behind the barn. A relieved smile on her face. She tapped her hooves together, nodding, and pulled out her little black notebook.
So hard to find good help these days.

Chapter 3: Pinkie Pie

The door to SugarCube Corner swung wide open, and its most enthusiastic occupant poked her head out to see her first guest had arrived. A familiar young blue unicorn colt with wavy, shock white hair stood on the store's front step.
"This is where the party's at, right?" He smiled.
"Oh, hi Pokey!" Pinkie Pie responded with her usual glee. "You're awfully early! The party's not for another two hours!"
He nodded, walking right past her, in through the open door. "So I'm fashionably early," he smirked. "You don't mind?"

She slammed the door, not out of anger or frustration, but simply out of her abundance of energy. "Oh no! I don't mind, not at all! I wish everyone showed up early!"
He knew this girl. Bubbly. Too bubbly. Seemed like she could be a lot of fun in the right circumstances. Great ass. Curvy. A touch on the heavy side, but he liked them that way. Too bad she was always surrounded by those other dumb fillies.
"Not me." Pokey muttered, slinking toward the punchbowl.
As he passed Pinkie Pie, he noticed the balloons on her flank. He'd never really paid attention to her cutie mark before. Something in him twitched instinctively, a reflex at that visual.
Fitting, he thought.
He smirked.

The colt helped himself to the punch. As usual.
Pokey was something of a party animal. The difference between him and Pinkie, however, was that he didn't organize parties. He just crashed them.
In fact, Pokey had come straight here from a masquerade party on the edge of town. They had great punch there. Tasted kind of funny. Strong, maybe spiked too. Wouldn't be the first time he'd had spiked punch. Good, though. Not like this. This stuff was for foals. Tasted like no alcohol at all. It's thanks to that party that he knew about this one. That one filly in the black mask told him about it. She gave him something, too. To bring along. A gift.

After all, it would be rude not to bring a gift to a birthday party.

Pinkie hopped over to him. She literally bounced across the floor. He took another sip, looking over the glass at her. This girl's switch must have been stuck on "MAX".
"I hope you don't mind if I set up while you make yourself at home! I still have LOTS of preparing left to do!" she offered, twisting her head sharply to one side as she spoke. It almost looked painful. But she clearly didn't mind.
"Sure." He shrugged, refilling his cup. Maybe there was alcohol in here. Maybe it was just weak. Better to be sure.

She busied herself about the store at a frantic pace. With Mr and Mrs Cake away until the party began, the store was empty, and in the silence of their absence there was only Pinkie Pie's excited humming and sashaying about the draped streamers and floating balloons. It looked festive already, but for the parties Pinkie usually threw, this wasn't even the halfway point. Pokey looked around, took in the bright decor. By the time she was done, he thought, it would look like a clown threw up all over the room.
But he found it hard to complain. A party was a party, however dopey.
He'd been to Pinkie's parties before, and they all followed that same trend. So of course, he took some small pleasure in destroying that innocent aesthetic. Sure, popping her balloons was an equally childish thing to do, but it gave him some measure of satisfaction in the face of the sugary-sweet atmosphere.
He was brought out of his idle thoughts when the hot pink earth pony hopped up next to him on the table.
"'Scuse me!" she bubbled, reaching up on her hind legs to fasten more streamers across the walls and ceiling.
His eyes again fell on her backside. Such enticing curves for a young filly like her. Then again, was she really that much younger than he was? Maybe it was just the way she acted that made him see her as young. How old was she anyway? Might be awkward if someone asked and he didn't know, on her birthday.
He kept staring. Pinkie didn't notice.
She hopped down and he brought his eyes back to the punchbowl, as if nothing had happened.
"Sorry I'm so distracted!" she offered, trotting lightly past him, "But I gotta finish setting up before the other guests arrive! I still have to put up the rest of the balloons, and set up the table for the cake, and oh! There's got to be a place for the presents, of course! And what if I don't have enough chairs?"

Presents. That's right.
Pokey reached down with a telekinetic hand, his horn glowing faintly. From his saddlebag, he drew out a plain little present, a white-wrapped box.
"That reminds me," he said as casually as possible, "I got this for you."
"Oh! You didn't have to get me anything!" She smiled, earnestly.
"It's okay. I'm sure you'll like it." He didn't know EXACTLY what it was, but that's what the mare at the other party had told him. It was perfect, she assured him. Some kind of game.
"Well thanks, Pokey!" She bounced on her hooves and graciously accepted the present.
"Why don't you open it?" he took another sip of punch.
"Oh!" she glanced up, then shook her head firmly. "No, I can't. I should wait until everyone's here to open my gifts!"
"But it's a game. If you're going to play at the party," he mused, smiling and disaffected, "you should really know how to play first. Otherwise, you'll hold everyone up."
That punch was going right through him.
"Well, if you insist!" She smiled. Clearly it didn't take much convincing.
Pokey shook his head as Pinkie began eagerly unwrapping the box. "Excuse me, I'm going to find the little colt's room." he muttered, wandering off.
"Okie-dokie-lokie!" she beamed back, still tearing into the gift wrap.
He winced. He hated that phrase. She used it all the time. It was stupid. So stupid.
He trotted off.

With the wrapping paper shredded in piles around her, Pinkie was left holding a very plain white box. She opened it up, eagerly.
Inside there were all sorts of bits and pieces. Black fabric, straps. A blindfold. And a small booklet made of stapled-together paper. It was all very elegant-looking and the monochrome coloring made it seem somehow classy. Even the handmade booklet, which appeared to be the instructions, seemed crafted with care. It was familiar, somehow, but the young filly didn't linger on that thought. She pulled out all the pieces and flipped through the booklet, reading out loud to herself. Instructions on how to play! Looks like it was designed for as few as two players, but as many people as wanted to join in could! How fun!
What was first? One person needed to be "it". Well that's easy! She'd be "it" first. It was her birthday party after all!
What else? You needed a chair or a table or something. Well there was plenty of furniture around. Pinkie grabbed a low-standing card table and spun it around over to herself, plopping down on her back on it, holding the instruction booklet overhead to read. How fun this would be!
She flipped the page. What was next? Some of the black straps were needed. She fished them out and laid them over her legs, just above the hooves. It said she needed help for this part, but Pinkie had never yet found a game she couldn't set up by herself. She pushed on, determined. With every successive step of instructions, she followed along. Straps on her hooves. Around and under the table. She smiled, humming excitedly to herself. She'd never heard of a game like this.
It had to be tight, the booklet said. She tugged. Her hooves came free.
Not good enough. She put her hooves back in, tightened the strap by pulling with her teeth. Real tight.
Her hooves slipped right out. They had a habit of doing that. She replaced them, tightened again. Extra tight.
Finally they were tight enough to hold her. She couldn't wiggle free. She checked them repeatedly. Tugged and shimmied. Nope. She was held fast.
Perfect! What was next? She flipped the pages with her nose.

Pokey dabbed his hooves in the water and dried them off on a provided towel, then stepped disinterestedly back into the main room of SugarCube Corner. Maybe some more party guests had arrived in the few minutes he'd been away. Maybe one of them had brought something stronger than punch. Maybe there was a sexy older filly who'd decided to show up. Something to spice up this boring birthday.
"Oh, hey Pokey!" Came Pinkie's perky voice.
He glanced up. Stared.
For a long moment, he thought perhaps he'd had too much to drink. Maybe that punch was more loaded than he'd realized.
No, he realized. He wasn't imagining this.
There was the curvy pink filly, lying on her back on a small card table, legs splayed out in opposite directions. She was strapped down to the table in what looked like black leather bondage restraints. She shimmied a little, but seemed firmly held down. Her poofy, curly tail lay up between her legs, draped on her stomach. She looked at him with her familiar expression, excited and eager.
"Hey!" she said again. How long had he been staring? "Can you help me?"
He blinked. "...what?"
"I just need you to help me with this next step!" She turned her head and nosed at one last piece from the box. The blindfold. "Can you just slip this on me?"
"...Is this a trick?" he asked, hesitant. Still, he paced closer.
She giggled, evidently amused by his silly question. "Nope! It's a game!"

He looked her over. That had to be about the most vulnerable position he'd ever seen a girl in. And certainly not one he ever expected to find Pinkie Pie in. At least, not willingly. But sure enough, her she was, laid out in front of him spread-eagle on the table, all tied up. Asking him for a blindfold. He had no idea she was such a freak. But he liked it.
Was this for him? Had she sent that other filly to invite him to make sure he got there early? An extra birthday present before the other festivities? Or was she just a much more wild filly than he'd always imagined her?
He couldn't piece it together. But really, it didn't matter how or why. Here she was, laid out in front of him. And he wasn't the type to look a gift horse in the mouth.

His horn glowed again and the dark strip of satiny fabric floated up and slipped across Pinkie's face, cinching around and covering those big, trusting eyes. The world went black around her and she giggled. That seemed to be her default response to everything.

"I can't see!" she said, as perky as ever. "What's the next step?"
He loomed over her, unseen. She squirmed adorably beneath him. How did she tie up all four of her legs? This girl was full of surprises. He was starting to appreciate that.

From the back window, another pony watched, silently.

Pinkie couldn't stop fidgeting, even secured as she was to the table. Her natural enthusiasm was keeping her from sitting still despite the numerous straps holding her in place and it was all she could do to squirm and wriggle. Her tail twitched, instinctively and unconsciously held between her spread hind legs. She couldn't see a thing. But she could still sense everything going on. Pokey was very close, near her legs. She could hear him breathing. He wasn't answering yet, but he was probably still trying to find the page. She didn't hear the booklet flipping.
She felt weird like this. She'd been blindfolded plenty of times before, usually while taking out a small country's worth of pinatas (which wasn't a big deal, because they loved parties as much as she did!), but she'd never been bound like this. Especially not at the same time! It was like an adventure. Trying to pick out everything that was happening without seeing it was a fun challenge. But she wanted to get on with the game. Her eagerness didn't always mean impatience, but it was just too much not to be excited! She was still all smiles and bubbly energy.

Pokey loomed over her. His eyes traced the curves of the soft pink pony tied up so neatly beneath him. He knew he was drunk. Maybe worse. His vision was getting a little blurry, but thankfully, alcohol never affected him in such a way that it might... interfere with what was to come.
He did a kind of reality check, blinking hard and shaking his head. The blurriness wouldn't go away, but neither did the scene vanish around him. It seemed this really was happening.
He didn't know Pinkie very well. He'd been to plenty of her parties, but never spoke with her more than just in passing. Truth is he barely knew a thing about the filly tied up on the table, but he wasn't about to pass up a golden opportunity. Whatever her motivations, she was here, now, and just as ready as he was. He gripped her fluffy pink tail gently, magically. A light touch she barely felt, and brushed the tail aside to catch a glimpse of Pinkie Pie's... pink pie. He smirked, stupidly. Lame puns must be contagious.
She moved her tail back, instinctively, without even consciously registering it. Again, he brushed it aside. This time, a bit more firmly. He held it out of the way, leaving her uncovered.
"Pokey? What are you doing now?" she chirped in eager curiosity. She was being coy, obviously. He didn't answer.
He leaned down a little, nosing in right near her soft little mound. Took in the sight of her smooth inner thighs, her plush, plump pink lips and delicate little petals. Closed his eyes. Inhaled, smelling her deeply. She smelled like cinnamon icing. With vanilla. He brushed so slightly against her.
"Hey!" she startled, squirming a little on the table. "Don't be a naughty pony, Pokey!" the earth pony giggled playfully, almost in sing-song. "You know better than to touch a filly there!"
Maybe he did know better.

Everything was black around Pinkie Pie. The whole place was quiet, save for the sound of shifting leather as she squirmed impatiently on the table. She waited a long moment. "Pokey?" she asked. No answer.
She wondered if she had sounded too harsh. She was just joking! She knew Pokey only brushed her by accident, of course. She didn't mean to sound like she was really lecturing him. That sort of thing probably happens all the time. It's not like he was being a busy-hooves or trying to clop a feel, he was just trying to help her with the game. Her heart sank a little. Did she scare him off?
The table she was on shifted a little. The sound of hooves coming down softly on either side of her. She instantly came back to good spirits. A smiled beamed across her blindfolded face. "Pokey? Is that you?" she asked the darkness.
Still no answer.
The table shifted a little more. Hooves moved alongside her, under her hind legs from beneath. That had to be Pokey, right? It felt like he was standing with his front legs on the table, under her legs, pushing them up towards her chest what little the tight straps would allow.
"Is this the next step?" she asked excitedly. She'd never played a game like this before.

The pink little pony let out a little surprised "Ooh!" when she felt something poke against her.
Something hard and warm. Very warm. Like it had just come out of the oven. But it was wet, too. Slick and drippy against her. Slippery, like cooking oil. And worst of all, it was poking right against her private place!
"Pokey?!" she yelped, startled. "Is that you?"
Still no answer. She squirmed, fidgeting, but whatever that thing was, pressing against her, it stayed there. Resting right against her private pink place. No matter how much she wriggled, she couldn't shift out of the way, or move her hips aside. She was stuck firmly in place.
"Pokey, what are you doing?" Her voice was still bubbly, but now there was an edge of hesitation, betraying her apprehension, her slight worry. "Pokey? I can't see you, you have to talk!" she said with a nervous giggle.
The something started to press a little harder. The perky pink pony stiffened up in surprise, then wriggled more. "Pokey!" she gasped, following with an uncomfortable laugh. "Come on, say something! Say, 'Oh hi Pinkie, I'm right here!'"
Just silence.
The slippery, warm thing started to press in against her more. She squirmed, and the hooves on the table pushed against her legs, straining them against the straps, trying to pull them up more towards her chest. She was spread wide like this, her little hooves pointed just a little up into the air. Her tail was pinned out of the way. She wriggled, but it accomplished nothing. She felt something starting to give, and through the darkness could make out the very tip of the thing parting her private pinkie place. She squirmed more.
"Pokey?!" She had a weak, nervous smile. It wasn't very convincing. She was really worried now. "Pokey, what are you doing?" she asked, helpless. Still pinned. She couldn't see, couldn't hear him. All she could do was feel him. And struggle.
It kept pressing.
Of all her friends, Pinkie probably knew the least about sex. She was too innocent, too sheltered. Fluttershy had seen it in the unabashed face of nature, Twilight had surely read about it in her books, but Pinkie had no exposure. She didn't quite know what was going on. She just knew if she didn't act, something was about to happen.
"Pokey!" she yelped. Her voice still had its friendly tone, but it was strained. There was urgency. She spoke quickly, even for Pinkie Pie. "Pokey! I don't think this is what the book said to do!"
The pressing continued. Something was about to give.
"Pokey?! Don't-!"

The little filly's protest was suddenly interrupted, replaced with a sharp, squeaking gasp.

Pokey let out a hot sigh. Shivers of pleasure ran up his back as he forced his hips forward smoothly, sliding his long, dark, dripping shaft into the pinned little filly beneath him. She was so silky smooth. Like fucking velvet. Her tender, plush little pussy was so warm and soft. Just like the rest of her. He lowered his head a little, sighing with satisfaction. He couldn't get all the way in, but most of the way was good enough. He rested there for a second, his slicked cock buried deep in that little filly's tiny lovehole, plump pink lips parted around that wet shaft. He leaned back just a little, peering underneath himself to see. He'd never taken a girl in this position, face-to-face like this. It was a little awkward. It provided a better view though. He watched, eyes locked between her parted thighs, as he slowly pulled out, inch by inch. Her puffy pink pussy lips pulled back with him a little, they were so tightly wrapped around his throbbing shaft. He smiled. Pushed back in, slowly, stroking his dick back into that neat young pussy again. What a sight. He wished he had a camera.
He was so absorbed by the sight and sensation of that cute virgin slit so naughtily spread around him that he barely even registered the girl herself.

Pinkie was tensed up underneath him, surrounded by darkness. The blindfold on her face wasn't coming off. She was pulling hard on all the straps, but they wouldn't even budge. For a brief moment, all she could focus on was that feeling of being penetrated. Her head pounded and her heart raced erratically. Her mouth hung open, but she couldn't say anything. She felt winded. It was like getting a shot, only times a hundred. A million. She shook for a second, then managed at last to gasp, taking a deep breath of air.
Her chest heaved unevenly. She felt like there was a weight on her chest, and she had trouble breathing. When the blue stallion mounted over her began moving again, she felt something deep inside her moving too. She could barely understand it. That thing went inside her. That wet, warm, hard thing pushed inside her little pink hole. Nothing was supposed to touch her there. Nothing was supposed to go inside. How could it even have? It was too much to think about. Her mind and body reeled.
Pokey thrust back inside, hard. Deeper this time. He reached her limit. She yelped sharply, her poofy mane bouncing as her vulnerable form shuddered in response. It was too big inside her. He was so slick and wet he'd managed to get in deep, but she could barely take the size. Especially having never taken anything before. Her legs shook.
"Pokey," she managed to whimper out, her tone uneven. He didn't hear her. His mind was somewhere else.
She couldn't see him. Her heart was beating so loudly it echoed through her aching head. She could barely hear him. But she could feel him, deep inside her. She could feel his hooves against her legs, using her for leverage now. And she could feel his hot breath against her chest, making her shiver and shake. With every slight motion she could feel that thing sliding roughly in and out of her. It was slick, smooth, but so hard. It hurt.
Pinkie squirmed, wriggling. Instinctively trying to adjust herself. She wasn't straining to get free anymore. She was trying to reposition, to spread her legs wider, to become more accessible without even realizing it. Not because she wanted it, but just to make it easier on herself. To make it feel... less big. But it was no good. She felt like she was being split open. She squirmed more, squeaked.

"Pokey, I don't want to play this game anymore," the once perky pony begged weakly.
The blue stallion didn't even notice. He just stared at the lurid sight before him. Those leather-bound legs, that soft, curvy flank, and that plush, plump pink pussy parted so pleasantly around his prick.
He planted his hooves at her sides, and she kept her rear legs raised as high as she could. He noticed it only in passing. Weird girl, he thought. She seemed so reluctant for a while, but now she was spreading eagerly for him. He took it as an open invitation and after repositioning himself, Pokey slid his cock back into her waiting entrance, in a single long stroke. The stallion started bucking against her, a good, casual rhythm. He didn't take it easy on her or went slowly. Not that he was trying to be cruel, but with his mind as cloudy as it was, it was hard to think of anything but himself. And that feeling.
She was so soft. Never been used before. She was giving her virginity up to him. She must be crazy about him. Maybe she'd been waiting a long time to set this up. Or maybe she was just a freak and he was in the right place at the right time. But right now, feeling her warm and tight and silky-smooth around him, he didn't care. He was dripping like a faucet, thrusting in and out with animalistic force, each stroke slicked by his wet, slippery cock.
"I don't want to play anymore. Pretty please," she repeated, her voice high-pitched, nearly breaking.
"With sugar?" she added in quiet desperation.

Pinkie Pie had stopped squirming around.
All her earlier energy, her unending enthusiasm that kept her squirming, her perky, bubbly twitchiness, they'd vanished. She just lay there on the table, flat on her back, hind legs propped up in the air as Pokey pounded away at the poor young filly. Her body bounced, tightened up a little with each stroke, but otherwise she barely moved. She tried to keep her legs as wide open as possible, but it didn't do much good. He kept thrusting, selfishly focused on his own pleasure, not even paying attention to the discomfort Pinkie's penetration was causing her. Her fore legs tensed up reflexively against their straps with every stroke.

Tears were streaming down the pink filly's face from beneath the blindfold, which had grown damp. At the deepest point of every rhythmic thrust, she yelped urgently, but still softly. Only a few sounds filled Pinkie's senses, all she could focus on besides the sharp poking sensation. The lewd, wet sounds of flesh on flesh. The stallion's heavy, dark balls slapping evenly against Pinkie's bare ass as they swung beneath him. The wobbling of the table as Pokey mounted the tied-up filly. And her own reflexive squeaking.
"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow," she cried quietly at every thrust as he bottomed out inside her. Her voice was weak, whimpering. It didn't get better as it went on. The pain of the initial penetration had faded a little, but still, every poke hurt. And yet through his clouded senses, all the stallion could hear was shy moaning. He was utterly lost in the sensation and the sight of Pinkie's pinkest bits. He kept going, and with every stroke he provoked another pitiful, wincing noise. "Ow, ow, ow!"

She felt so good around him. And she'd offered herself up so neatly all she needed was a pretty little bow on top to finish the display. In the pleasurable haze that grew around him as he neared climax, his mind wandered briefly. He kept thrusting at a measured pace, the hot, silky sensation around his cock flooding his senses. Heavenly. Would this be a regular thing? He'd have to make a note to attend more of her parties. And whether or not she was setting this up for him in particular or just because she finally wanted her cherry popped, the girl was clearly a freak. She liked it rough, and this was awfully kinky for a first time, with the straps and the blindfold. Well, he thought, he could be rough if that's what she wanted. If she wanted to be dominated, he'd come around SugarCube Corner a lot more often. If she wanted someone aggressive, he'd be aggressive. With a pussy like this, how could he resist? He'd corner her whenever he caught her alone. Pin her down. Force her...
He blinked slowly, drawing in a deep breath, speeding up, slamming his hips against hers.
Let's not get carried away, he thought. That would be too far. He wouldn't act without making sure first.
After all, Pokey thought, he wasn't a rapist.

He shuddered. The pleasure was building up inside him. He dropped his shoulders, hung his head, and focused on finishing. He sped up, hips bucking harder and faster, slapping against that curvy pink ass.
Pinkie wasn't even whimpering anymore. Beneath the blindfold, her eyes were screwed shut tight. There was only darkness. And that brief half-second between every poke, feeling it pull out, where she tensed up, wishing that would be the last one but fearing what was inevitably to come. It was like a bad dream, and she couldn't wake up.
She just wanted it to be over.

The stallion braced himself against her, bucking his hips wildly against her, thrusting like an animal, ramming in and out of her sore little entrance and making slick, wet sounds. He reached his peak, went over the edge. Sped up, slamming away into her as fast as he could, pulling out almost all the way, and then buried himself inside her velvety lips, as deep as he could. She yelped sharply, like a violent hiccup, and tensed up all over. She arched her back high on the table, overcome with the sharp sensation. He twitched inside her. She felt it. Throbbing. Felt something else, like it was filling her up. It was so hard to focus in the darkness. Something warm inside her.
She could feel him breathing hot against her ear. Heard his lungs straining to keep up with his activity. He leaned down, whispering.
"Happy Birthday, Pinkie Pie."

He didn't hold there for very long. As soon as his orgasm had passed, he pulled out unceremoniously. Pinkie Pie bit her lip, tensed up for the inward thrust that inevitably followed the withdrawal, but it didn't come. She held there, poised blind for a few seconds, but at last realizing it wasn't going back in, she just collapsed flat. Every sore muscle in her poor used body relaxed. Her legs lay weak against the table, still strapped in tight. Her chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath. She could feel something thick and sticky all over her inner thighs and down from her pink place. It felt like syrup, but very warm.
Her breathing was weak, uneven, like she was expecting something worse to happen. She didn't squirm or bubble or smile, she barely moved. She didn't show any of her characteristic energy. She lay on the table, panting, bound, blind. She'd stopped crying, but her face was still damp.

She lay there for a long time. Didn't move, didn't make a sound. Her mind could barely touch what had just happened. She tried to make sense of it, what little she understood from it all, but it just wouldn't process. She could feel the sticky stuff drying on her.

"Pokey?" She finally asked, weakly.
No answer. She waited at least another minute, just breathing.
"Pokey? Are you there?"
Still nothing.
For a second, she thought the bad dream was over.

There was a click. She could hear the door swing open. She broke out instantly in a cold sweat, shivering. She whimpered audibly.
"I don't wanna play anymore, Pokey!" she yelped loudly.

"...Pinkie Pie?" came a deep, soft voice.

The young filly poked an eye out from under the blindfold, spotting a familiar face. She slipped out of the hoof-straps and bounded over to her two new guests.
"Oh, hi Big Mac! Hi Fluttershy!" she bubbled, her mussed mane bouncing as she hopped over to the door. "Are you here for my birthday party? Did you come here together?"
The two newcomers stared blankly at the disheveled pony. Her tail was scruffy and matted. Distinct and easily recognizable white streaks, half-dried, ran down her leg from her crotch. Her face was stained with tears and a blindfold hung half-leveled on her head.

"Oh my gosh, Pinkie Pie, what happened?" Fluttershy immediately demanded.
"You... okay, little filly?" the big red stallion asked.
Pinkie hesitated for a second. Her smile quivered, her eyes went a little glassy. For a second, she looked like she was about to fall over. Mac stepped forward, unsure.

Then, she hopped up in place and grinned excitedly. "Of COURSE I am!" She beamed. Her enthusiasm didn't fit her appearance at all, but her bounce was unmistakable. "After all, it's my birthday, and my bestest friends are on their way! Now I still have another half hour before the party starts, and if you both help me we can get the last of the streamers set up!" She turned back to the store, nodding.
"Come on! I'm gonna go wash up, and THEN we can set out the CAKE!"
The pink filly stopped. Stood still for a second.
"And games!" she shouted over her shoulder. "But FUN games everyone can enjoy!"
Fluttershy and Big Mac just stared at each other.

Outside, Rarity stepped away from the window with a shrug.
Pinkie must have learned something from all that. She had, hadn't she? And yet she reacts like this? But then, Pinkie Pie's so random, it's hard to tell with her. The white unicorn shrugged. It wasn't worth worrying about.
Besides, she had to get ready for a party.

Chapter 4: Twilight Sparkle

"I just can't believe something like this would happen right here in Ponyville!" The purple mare's tone was stark, shaken. "To my own friends."
They stood at the steps of the library, Twilight Sparkle and her friends. Spike stood beside her, his arms worriedly wrapped about her foreleg as he huddled in close. Four others stood in the front: Applejack, Big Mac, Fluttershy, and Rarity. With all that had happened in the past few days, they'd come to Twilight for a solution.
"Twilight," Spike whispered insistently, squeezing her leg, "What's rape, anyway?" He didn't fully understand the situation, only that his friends had been hurt somehow.
"It's something very bad, Spike. Something very, very bad that colts do to mares when they don't want them to." She shook her head sternly, scolding the theoretical colts who weren't even there. Big Mac uncomfortably shifted the sprig of wheat in his mouth. "First Applejack, then Rarity, and now even Pinkie Pie."
"D'ya think that's related?" Applejack asked. "Me an' Rarity were attacked by guards, but I heard this was just some colt."
"At least he's in jail, where he belongs." Rarity huffed. Mac hung his head a bit more and avoided the eyes of the other ponies, thankful they seemed content to speak mostly to each other.
Twilight nodded. "Ponyville hasn't had a case of rape in years, now there's been three in a week."
"Maybe there's been more," Mac offered quietly, "but they're just too ashamed a'what's happened to come forward." He hung his head a little further, glancing sideways at Fluttershy, a guilty look on his face. The yellow pegasus looked away.
But the brainy purple pony didn't notice the subtext. "Exactly. And anyway, there's got to be some connection. Pokey said he was drugged, and the tests confirmed it. There was some sort of purple herb mixed in with the punch at the party he'd just come from."
"Yes, I read the report. When I heard what had happened, I remembered these. I thought maybe you could do something with them," Rarity responded, magically lifting a small bundle purple leaves from her satchel and offering them to the bookish Twilight. The other ponies all stared. "I bought these a week ago from a white pony. I didn't recognize the cutie mark, and their face was hidden under some garish mask."
"That matches the description Pokey gave of the mystery pony at the party! I hope you didn't use these yourself, Rarity." Twilight responded, carefully taking the herbs for study.
"Only once, dear," the white unicorn responded, "I brewed the leaves into some tea the other day, but I was so distracted by my work I forgot about it, and I ended up throwing it out when it got cold." Mac perked up for a moment, hearing this. He turned to Rarity, listening.
"I shudder to think what would have happened if you had drank it!" Twilight responded, shivering visibly. Big Mac glanced at Fluttershy, who looked back at him. They said nothing, but there was some kind of communication there.
"Can you figure this out, Twi'?" Applejack asked, hopeful and urgent.
"I'll do my best. I still think it would be best if I just wrote to Celestia about all this."
"Those were Royal Guards!" Rarity protested.
"If there's corruption in the ranks, all the more reason to tell Celestia!"
"I agree with Rarity for once. Those were ROYAL guards, after all, and that could mean some pretty bad things. Until we know who we can trust, we should hold off for a while longer." Applejack nodded firmly.
Twilight sighed, reluctantly going along with the plan. She knew Celestia would have the solution, but she had to consider the concerns and the safety of her friends. "All right. But in two days if we still don't have any answers, I'm going straight to Celestia."
"I understand, dear." Rarity nodded.

Two days.
So now she had a deadline.

Hours passed as Twilight labored over the herbal leaves, cross-referencing every botanical guide she had in the library to pinpoint their origin. She studied their cellular structure under a microscope, ran chemical tests and cultivated culture dishes to see what molds would grow on them. Spike retired to his bed almost unnoticed, and Twilight pored over what little she had to go on. If this herb could give them some sort of lead, she had to unravel its mysteries. Its origin might be traced, its effects might be explained, and perhaps it would be the first step towards understanding what was happening. It was on Twilight now, to figure out why her friends had been hurt. Rarity, Applejack, Pinkie Pie.
As she considered it, a strange realization dawned on her. The three girls were all part of her close circle of friends. There weren't any other reports that she knew of, so it was just them. Was it a coincidence? Or was someone targeting them specifically? And if so, why?
She sat up from her desk, and her heart skipped a beat. What if it was her? What if she was the center of it? What if whoever was doing this was doing it because of who she was, who she knew? Celestia's own most recognized pupil. What if this was some form of political terrorism? That would mean it was her fault. It would mean she dragged the other girls into this. The purple unicorn pony jumped up, and began pacing around the dim study, lit only by a single candle now. It couldn't be. She shook her head. No one would do something like that. But if this really did have something to do with her, all the more reason it was important to understand.

A knock on the door gave the studious young mare a start, and she stood for a long moment just staring across the darkened library. Stars glinted in the deep dark sky and blackness swelled outside the windows. She made no noise, dared not move. Her imagination was running away with her. What if she were to open the door and find a gang of Royal Guards, of those powerful white stallions now come for her? Could she be next? Could she resist them, even with her magic? Or would they take her, as they'd taken her friends? Her mind raced, horrible images filled her head. She saw herself bent over her desk, mounted rudely by one of the oversized stallions. She imagined being pinned beneath the barrel-chested males, struggling weakly. She envisioned the indignities and lewd depravity she might suffer, all in the flash of a few seconds. She found herself in a cold sweat. She swallowed deeply, nervously, and tried not to make a sound. She just stared at the door, wondering if perhaps she'd only imagined it. Her heart pounded in her ears.

Another knock.

She hadn't imagined it. The purple unicorn pony bit her lip, glancing around. She was afraid now. She whispered, hushed.
"Spike. Spike!" She strained under her breath. But he was in bed, at the opposite side of the library. She was stranded there in that pool of flickering candlelight. Trapped. The library had no back exit.
Maybe they'd go away. Or break the door down.

Yet another knock.

Shaking, quivering in fear and beginning to sweat visibly, the young purple mare slowly paced towards the door. She didn't know what she was going to do, only that there was no way out now. She took a deep breath, then opened the door onto the dark night.
"Hey Twilight!"

The unicorn nearly fell over backwards in her relief. She slumped down to the floor, sitting on her haunches, and sighed a long, shaky sigh. "Oh, Caramel. You scared the bits out of me."
A small-framed and rather unimpressive brown colt stood on the library's front step, and he looked about strangely, surveying the town, all settled down for the night. "...Sorry?" was all he offered, more in confusion than apology.
She opened her mouth, but realizing the sensitive nature of her misconception, merely waved a hoof in dismissal rather than explain what had scared her. "Never mind. What can I help you with?" she asked politely, feeling a little sheepish she'd let her imagination carry her away.
"Well, you didn't show up tonight. I just wanted to see if you were okay."
She slapped her forehead with her hoof. "Oh, I forgot about your tutoring! Caramel, I'm so sorry! I was working on something, and I guess I just lost track of time."
"Well, I mean, not to rush you or anything," he continued, shuffling awkwardly on the step, "but I have to know this stuff by the weekend."
"We'll practice soon," she nodded, moving to close the door. But the door was struck, and Caramel held it open with one hoof. Twilight startled, slightly.
"How about now?" He smiled.
The purple pony slumped her shoulders. "It's really late..."
"And I stayed up waiting for you. Can't we at least get a little work done?" he pressed.
"Caramel..."
"C'mon, Twilight! No one knows the material like you do!"
She was never much one for flattery, and hardly knew how to take a compliment, but Caramel's adoration seemed earnest and friendly. It was hard to turn away the colt on her doorstep, so with a soft smile, she rolled her eyes and stepped aside, letting him in.
The door shut behind the two. "We'll have to study in my bedroom," Twilight whispered, "since Spike's asleep." The colt nodded, and together they snuck off to her private room. He watched her silhouetted hips sway as she paced through the darkened library, and a subtle smile crossed his face.

"Excuse the mess." Of course, there was no mess. Between Twilight Sparkle's obsessive cleanliness and Spike's constant tidying behind her occasional driven outbursts, the library was almost always immaculate. But her self consciousness demanded an apology all the same, and she felt some small blush rise to her cheeks as she welcomed the colt into her room, secretly, like they were young lovers sneaking under the noses of worried parents. It felt strangely illicit, and to a straight-laced young filly like Twilight, very out of the ordinary.
Still, she had nothing to hide here, no frilly undergarments left lying about in plain sight (not that she owned any), and her romance novels, all more tepid than torrid, were neatly stacked away on the shelves where they would not stand out. And there were certainly no aids or toys by the side of her neatly-made bed, for she owned nothing of the type. She had lived a sheltered life, an ivory tower intellect, and though she read enough books on more mature subjects, her book-smarts were all she had to go on.
Feeling her mind drifting to these odd subjects, she shook her head reflexively, and let her dark, streaked mane fall behind her as she settled in on the bed. Without asking permission, Caramel climbed up beside her onto the lush bedsheets, its starry decor spread out beneath them. Twilight said nothing at first, but with her magic, floated a book off the nearby shelf and placed it out before them, flipping through to the page she had marked from days before. Caramel, on the other hand, was far more interested in his study partner than his studies, and his lingering eyes continued to fall to Twilight as she lay beside him, both lined up to read from the book.
"Okay," she whispered softly, "now last time, we were talking about the history of Equestrian economics. As you can see from the influence of the Canterlot market..."

The lesson began to slowly drag on into the night, and an already tired Twilight Sparkle, worn from her investigation, began to yawn every page or so. It didn't escape Caramel's notice.
"Getting tired, Twilight?" he asked in what certainly seemed a friendly tone.
"Oh," she smiled almost apologetically, "I've just been working on something all night."
She turned her attention back to the book, but Caramel looked at her with interest. "What?"
"Oh, just..." she didn't know how to explain it, or how much she could afford to make known. She hesitated, her weary mind weighing the options.
"Is it about the sex crimes going on?" the brown colt asked, without consideration.
The studious young unicorn tilted her head. "How do you know about that?"
"Word gets around," he shrugged back. "Real awful stuff, isn't it?" He looked so sympathetic, so concerned.
"Yes," she said quietly. "It is awful."
Her mind began to wander again, perhaps spurred on by the secretive situation she found herself in. It was in no way seedy, and yet it felt strangely intimate. It had only just dawned on her that she was lying in bed beside a boy, and the conversation was again shifting to a topic Twilight had already had her imagination run away with. She would have felt concern, except for the colt's identity. Caramel never seemed very interested in romantic pursuits, and in the few months that she'd known him he'd never had a girlfriend or conquest to speak of. He remained a perfect platonic friend, always earnest and interested, but never pushy. He was, in a word, nonthreatening. It made her feel a little better, with all the fears that had been circling her head.

"Plus," he shrugged, speaking quietly, "you must be afraid."
Twilight snapped back to reality once more, glancing over the book's musty pages to Caramel. "Afraid? Afraid of what?"
"Well... I mean, with everything that's going on..."
The unicorn hesitated, once again considering the possibility, but refusing to admit it. "Come on, Caramel. You don't think I'm in danger, do you?"
He shrugged again, letting his eyes go back to the book, speaking so casually he seemed disinterested. "A pretty pony like you turns heads all the time. If there's a creep out there, I just hope he doesn't set his eyes on you."
It was rather a tasteless thing to bring up, but Twilight found herself blushing, and more than a bit worried at the suggestion. It only helped confirm her fears. Uncomfortably, the unicorn began to shift on the bed. "If it came to that," the young bookworm said, trying to hold her chin up, "I'd just have to defend myself."
"Do you know anything about self defense?" The brown-coated colt asked, barely bothering to look up.
"Well... I know OF it." Twilight explained, trying to sound confident. "Besides, I have my magic to protect me. If it came to that."
"That can be a tricky thing." Caramel murmured, flipping to the next page.
"What's that mean?"
"Nothing. I was just worried about you. Forget it," he waved, passively, "I'm sure you'd be fine."
"I would!" Twilight insisted, stamping one hoof at the bedsheets. She caught herself, quickly, and covered her mouth on realizing Spike was still sleeping at this late hour. She felt foolish.

"If you're so sure of yourself," Caramel began, slowly closing the book on its mark, "show me what you've got."
"What? Caramel, I could never fight you."
"I'm not asking for a fight," the colt said, brushing his long brown mane away from his eyes. "I just want you to practice."
"I'd hurt you." She said, lowering her head and slouching her shoulders. She knew her magic was powerful enough to cause trouble.
"Tell you what: If things get too rough, either of us can just say stop, and then we'll stop. Right away. It's real simple. It can be our safe word." The connotation went over Twilight's head, but it seemed reasonable. Still, she didn't want to show off needlessly, even if it meant proving her point, and the whole concept of this confrontation Caramel was setting up made her uneasy.
Caramel smiled, sitting up. "Come on, just think of it as a game."
Twilight sighed, rolling her eyes a little. It was clear he wasn't going to drop the subject, so she might as well go ahead with it. "All right," the purple unicorn pony said, moving to stand off the bed, "but be careful so I don't hurt you."
Suddenly she felt hooves on her hips, and before she could stand off the bed, she was dragged back and pushed onto her back on the silky sheets. The move caught her off-guard, and the young brown colt quickly moved up alongside her, shifting to put his weight into his movements. She didn't think he was going to start right here on the bed, but at least it meant less chance of injury. "Come on. Pretend I'm assaulting you," he smiled, perhaps too enthusiastically, "and try to get me off."

Twilight Sparkle had never wrestled anyone before. For most of her life she was merely an egghead, a shut-in, and she didn't have much physical power to rely on. So when Caramel started to move over her, pinning her shoulders down with his front hooves, she focused on her inner strength instead. Her horn began to glow, her magical powers coalescing around it.
A hoof moved down her side, tracing over her hips. It made her jump slightly, and she looked up to Caramel to see the young colt smiling broadly. The magical glow dissipated, and Twilight gasped. The colt's hoof moved down to her leg, and beneath a hot blush, she tried to focus again. Once more her horn began to glow, and a telekinetic field grew around Caramel.
He pushed at her thigh, and spread her legs just a bit there on the bed. Instantly the field disappeared, and Twilight instinctively pulled back from his touch. He pressed on, encouraged by the reaction, forcing her hind legs apart even more. He was stronger than she had suspected - or perhaps she was simply weaker than she realized. She tried to focus, to channel her magic again, but the eager colt knelt down over her, nuzzling over her shoulder, breathing hotly on her neck. He pressed his body close to hers, and she felt his hind leg plant between her thighs, keeping her spread there, on her back. Tussled among the dark, starry sheets, he climbed on top of her, kissing rudely at her neck. His long brown mane fell across her face as he leaned forward, nibbled at her ear. He was playing the part rather well. Too well.
Twilight was panicking. She squirmed helplessly underneath the colt who was no larger than she, and he moved his hooves across her bare body, feeling along her curves, groaning lustily in her ear. She tried to focus. She couldn't. His touch moved up her leg, closer and closer. Too much was going on. She couldn't concentrate. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead. Her blush rose, hotter, redder. He moved across her thighs now. Closer. Over her inner thighs. She was frantic.
"Caramel, stop it!" she yelped.

Instantly, he was off of her.

She found herself lying on her back there on the bed, trying to catch her breath. Caramel sat beside her on the ruffled sheets, looking at her with a cocky smile as her chest rose and fell. He'd moved to a much more respectful distance.
"See, I told you. You aren't ready. Even with your magic, you have to be careful."
Twilight looked at him for a long time. She wore a stunned expression. Everything that had just happened swam around in her heady thoughts, and her heart was pounding so loud it echoed in her ears. For a moment she had been truly afraid, all but forgetting where she was. The safety of her own room. And not with a rapist. A friend. Finally, she sighed, going flat on the bedsheets and wiping her forehead. "You kind of scared me," she admitted, sheepish. "For a second, it almost seemed like... I mean, your eyes were..." she glanced to him, and he had that same wide smile. He raised a brow suggestively, and she just trailed off.

She sat up a little, looking at the young colt, and that strange expression.
He just grinned at her.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he finally asked, in a tone that sounded like it didn't even need an answer.
"What are you talking about?" she deflected.
"Look at you," Caramel smiled, scooting closer to her. She retreated slightly in response. "You're blushing like a schoolfilly. And you're sweating."
"...I was exerting myself, so of course I'm flushed."
"Don't lie." He whispered, edging even closer over the sheets. Twilight glanced about, uncomfortably, subconsciously looking for Spike. "You liked it. You wanted it."
Twilight turned redder than ever. Her heart beat faster, her hooves traced nervously over the bedspread, and her tail flicked from one side to the other, unconsciously.
She felt hot all over. In some places more than others. "I don't want to be raped," she said firmly, though her eyes were locked on the sheets, instead of the colt.
"Of course you don't," Caramel agreed, putting his hoof near hers. "But you liked the feeling... and if you could enjoy it, safely, without any real danger, with someone you could trust..."
Caramel put his hoof on hers, firmly now. He leaned in closer, and the two ponies were face to face. Twilight swallowed nervously, feeling sweat starting to form on her forehead again. Even the naive unicorn knew what he was getting at. Between shallow breaths, she said, "Caramel, I... I just don't feel that way about you. I'm sorry."

He didn't seem hurt. In fact, he just smiled. "But you know you can trust me. You know it's safe. And you know you want more." He leaned forward, rubbed against her neck. Twilight shivered. "You've never had it before, have you?"
"Caramel," she said softly, almost whispering, "I don't -- we shouldn't."
"Yes we should," he grinned back, getting even closer. He was pressing against her now, easing her onto her back again. She didn't resist, her body moving along with his guiding motions. Her expression was one of heavy confusion, and of reluctant, flushed excitement. She'd never felt like this before. The unicorn pony instinctively pushed the sheets away, feeling sweltering hot as it was. Caramel just smiled, moving around and straddling the purple filly.
"We've done enough studying. Let's have some fun." He smiled, nipping at her neck.
She knew she should stop him here. She knew it was a bad idea. She had never even thought of him this way. But her thoughts were so clouded by excitement. Her head felt heavy. Her mind was in a soupy fog and she could barely hear anything over her racing heartbeat. Her hips seemed to quiver, her tail twitched. She couldn't lie still. She wanted to say no. But she just couldn't.
The unicorn pony bit her lip and let him continue. He kissed down her neck, and down onto her chest. She said nothing. He traced his mouth over her, casting hot breath across her reclining figure, and his hooves moved over her curves. She was tense, but every touch relaxed her more. Hesitantly, she sat up just enough to kiss Caramel's ear. Spurred on, he moaned against her chest, pulled up, and pressed himself closer against her.

Twilight Sparkle lay back, staring into the darkness above her. Heat rose off her body, a palpable wave. Her tutoring student was on top of her, chest to sweaty chest, kissing up and down her neck. In a way, it seemed so unreal. She'd thought about this sort of thing often. Daydreams had a way of drifting to boys, especially after an afternoon's study was occasionally seasoned with some trashy bodice-ripper story or pulp novel. But nothing she'd read had really given her a taste of the actual experience. It was like she had always imagined, only much, much more so.

They'd never mentioned the heat. She felt hot enough to go jump in a lake. But she couldn't move from her spot there on the bed, pinned beneath the eager young colt. But for all the heat, she was frozen in place, barely able to even glance down and watch Caramel's swishing mane as he worked his mouth across her body. He bit playfully, gently, and she inhaled sharply, drawing in hot air.
Twilight reached up weakly and draped her front hooves around Caramel's shoulders, encouraging him on in spite of herself. She hadn't expected this at all. Especially not from him. And she knew, not that deep down, that she shouldn't be doing this. But wrapped up together like that, the sensation drove her on. She wanted to explore it, at least a little longer.

A strange sensation made her startle, and she looked down to see the eager young colt nosing down between her legs. She felt his warm breath against her inner thighs. So warm, so intimate. Her eyes closed heavily, and she moaned as quietly as she could. It was surreal. Unbelievable. But this was really happening, she thought. She couldn't think of much else. She didn't consider what it might lead to, or what would come next. All common sense went out the window. All she could think about was his body against hers.
He went lower, deeper. She gasped, and sat up to see, propped up on her arms. "Caramel-!" she said, weakly.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle."
He was. He kissed her softly, where she'd never been kissed before. She felt like melting back onto the bed. Enveloped by the heat, shuddering from the overwhelming and sexual sensation. He stuck out his tongue, licking gently up and down her lips, and she collapsed backwards with a shaky moan. It felt so dirty. Nothing like this was in any of her books. But it made her head swim. Her vision started to creep in at the edges. She couldn't quite focus her eyes. She was lost, awash in a sea of pleasures she had only dreamed about. The colt pinned her firmly about her hips and pressed in more insistently, licking up and down her cute little slit, kissing, teasing. He pushed his tongue forward, parting her lips, tasting her intimately. She was sweet, clean, fresh. She moaned again, and instinctively spread her legs out wider for him. "Y-yes," she urged, panting desperately.

The sensation was new, but the feelings it invoked were familiar. Her heart quickened, and her legs tensed. The bookish pony let out a shameless moan and arched her back up off the bed, as waves of pleasure washed over her, breaking and rolling back, in a tide of wild heat. "I'm close," she breathed out, weakly. "Caramel, yes. I'm so close."
He moved his tongue in deeper, wet and warm, and she tensed up. Her mind nearly blanked. There was just him, and her, and the bed. The rest of the world just fell away. He flicked his tongue across her clit and she nearly bucked him. Her legs twitching reflexively, then her eyes snapped wide open. She shook all over, and the most powerful orgasm of her life all but exploded inside her. She stayed like that, tensed and raised, damp with perspiration and quivering from excitement, until at last it passed and she collapses with a heavily, spent sigh back onto the bed.

Caramel moved up, quickly. The brown colt planted his hooves on either side of her shoulders, leaving them face to face. He shifted atop her, moving her legs with his knees, spreading her out on her own messy bed. Twilight was panting, and a creeping sense of apprehension started to come over her. But she couldn't put her hoof on it exactly, until she felt something hard and hot and slick press against her belly. She looked down between their sweating bodies, where Caramel's anxious cock was poised eagerly. It was pointed right at her. She gulped in trepidation. She knew they were supposed to be hard like this. It was one of the facts her clinical books had prepared her for well. But she hadn't expected it to be wet already. The whole underside was slick as it stroked lustily against her. It was strange and incredible, and for as dirty and even gross as it seemed to her, she wanted to explore that huge, throbbing thing.
In truth, the young colt wasn't particularly well-hung, perhaps even a little below average, but Twilight had only seen diagrams in books. She hadn't considered the scale, and seeing it like this, in person, stroking back and forth against her belly, it was certainly larger than she'd anticipated.
"I... didn't realize they were so big," she whispered, merely thinking out loud. Her face had turned a deep shade of red.
Caramel grinned in response, nipping at her neck. He clearly appreciated the comment, but Twilight hadn't meant it as a compliment. He shifted above the purple pony, and pressed his body to hers. She was just getting worried.

Her mind was lingering on that intimidating sight, rolling over and over the idea of that perfect symbol of maleness that lingered so close to her, when suddenly she felt it begin to poke between her legs like a curious thing. She felt the end of it, hot and slick, nudging against her thighs, stroking up towards her most sensitive little spot. With her legs spread out like this, she was totally accessible to the young brown colt that had her pinned here, on her own bed. When she felt his cock stroke against her soft lips, she froze. Twilight didn't even fidget, just stared wide-eyed at Caramel as the realization of her situation dawned on her more fully.
"What do you think you're doing?" she asked, still mostly out of breath.
"Relax," he whispered back, kissing along her neck, "You'll love it."
"Caramel, wait," she insisted. "I... don't want to go all the way. Not yet, this is too fast."
"Come on," he smiled, still kissing. He moved up, nipping at her ear, which caused her to shiver. "I'll be gentle."
"We-... Caramel, we just started," Twilight whispered back. She didn't want to bring him down too hard, but they'd never even interacted on a romantic level before, and now he was pressing for sex.
"You already got to cum," he breathed in her ear, his blunt language making the unicorn blush all the more. "I'm still all turned on."
She couldn't deny that, and she didn't want to seem selfish. She did get to finish, and it was fantastic. Her mind went over the idea a bit, still cloudy from heady excitement, still distracted by the electric sensations of hot breath and sweaty bodies. "I could use my hooves," the bookish little filly offered as suggestively as she could. Stallions did that, right? She knew they used their mouths sometimes too, but that just seemed so gross. Then again, he used his mouth on her just now, so maybe it would be a fair trade.
She lay there, staring up at the ceiling through the dim light of her bedroom, the silence of the library hanging all around her, broken only by the sounds of Caramel's ragged exhalations in her ear, and the pounding of her own heart. Her arms were around Caramel, draped over his back. He was slick with hot sweat, as excited as she was. It felt good. She wanted to stay like this for a while, just like this.
He didn't say anything back. Maybe he was considering her offer.

Then she felt him poking between her legs again. He drew his hips back, a little awkwardly, to line himself up right. His slick, eager shaft slipped up between her thighs and its slippery underside stroked against her bare pussy, sliding wetly, lewdly against it. Twilight jerked her hips back instinctively, away from the colt's insistent cock. He parted her tender lips around the tip and she planted her hooves on his chest, pushing him back a little.
"Caramel, I said no!" She whispered more firmly.
"Come on," he moaned, not bothering to even slow down. Twilight pushed on his shoulders and looked down between them, watching Caramel's intimidating cock sliding against her, firmly, anxiously pressing against her tight entrance. Her mind raced and her eyes widened, in awe and fear at the sight she had never expected to see tonight. As he built up the pressure, trying to ease inside of the tight little filly, she felt him throb and twitch against her most sensitive spot. Waves of heat washed over her, and her apprehension and fear were met with a rush of excitement. Her heart fluttered, racing. She kept her hooves planted on his shoulders, kept her hips back as far as she could scoot them in this awkward position as she eyed the thick cock poised at her entrance like some monstrous invader.
But part of her just wanted to see it go in.
"Caramel...!" was all she could groan. Her mouth was unable to form a proper objection beyond that, and her mind was barely able to keep up.
"Ahh, Twilight..." he moaned in her ear, shuddering. Finally, the slick tip pushed inside, and all at once several inches of the colt's aching cock slammed inside the bookish young pony's tight little hole.

Her body reacted reflexively, and her mind practically shut down. Her arms went back around Caramel's shoulders, and even though she had protested, the sudden feeling of penetration sent such shudders through her all she could do was hold on. She felt the world disappear a little more around her, and all her mind could manage was to struggle to process the reality of it. She was being fucked, she thought. It was inside. That big dick was inside her now. She was having sex. Right here, in her own bed. Her thoughts just ran through these same thoughts over and over, rapid-fire, just repeating the reality, the dirtiness of her situation to herself. But even then, it still felt like a dream. She was shaking, moaning beneath him.
Caramel took her reaction as a sign of encouragement, and so he pushed forward, driving deeper into Twilight's wet little slit. He was dripping with anticipation and excitement, and she was soaking wet inside. He'd brought some lube along, just in case, in his book bag. But he didn't need it. She felt perfect. He forced his stiff, twitching cock in deeper. There was no resistance, but she was so tight, it was still slow going. With every inch he gained, he wanted more. He moved his hips back and forth, slowly at first, making short and clumsy thrusts, but each time going deeper and deeper. Twilight couldn't take it. She rolled her head from side to side on the bed, tugged at Caramel's back with her arms and pulled his face in close to hers. Her eyes were closed. She was lost in the pleasure of it. All her private studies hadn't prepared her for it. Somewhere in the back of her mind a tiny voice shouted at her, told her she shouldn't be doing this. But it was too late. Caramel had taken her to the hilt, burying every inch of his
cock in the pinned purple pony, and it filled her so deeply her mind could barely even hold itself together.

Twilight lay there for a while, her mind a haze, her senses flooded by the wild heat of penetration. Her eyes were unfocused, half lidded as she stared at the colt mounting her. She moaned with every thrust, but her own voice was so distant she could barely hear it. The world had sort of faded away. Her own heartbeat was all that held it together. She wanted to sit up and look down, to really experience this fully, to watch that slick, shiny cock pounding in and out of her tiny little pussy. She wanted to see how it fit. She wanted to watch that shaft disappear inside of her, her eyes taking it in the way her body felt every inch. He bucked unevenly, impatiently, rudely, and she could feel his balls slapping against her raised little ass as he drove all the way into her with every thrust. She wanted to see it. But it was too much. She couldn't sit up. She couldn't even tell him to stop. By now, she was too far gone. She wouldn't tell him to even if she could. Time melted away.

It felt like forever, lost in an endless sea of animalistic passion. But it had only been a few minutes.
Twilight was vaguely aware of someone talking. It was hazy. She had to put all of her waning energy into it, just to try and make it out. More cloudy words. "What?" she murmured, almost sleepily.
"I'm coming," he whispered hotly in her ear, hissing between his teeth.
That brought her back.

The cloudiness cleared fast. "What?!" she demanded, awkwardly pushing herself up on the bed, still reclining but now sitting up a bit. Despite her obvious concern, Caramel didn't stop. Didn't lose pace or even slow down. She glanced down, her eyes quickly regaining their clarity. The sight was even more obscene than she'd ever imagined. His dark, veiny, slick, gross-looking cock was slamming in and out of her, wetly. The sound of his hips pounding against hers was loud and lewd. His heavy, hanging balls swayed and slapped against her ass. It was filthy, pornographic. Everything was slick and shiny and wet. She felt disgusted, and aroused in spite of herself. The heat between them was almost unbearable. The colt's movements were eager but unsure. Twilight's arms were weak, shaking beneath her as the overwhelming sensation of being fucked so deep and so fast threatened to knock her senseless again.
"Caramel, DON'T." she insisted, giving him a very serious stare. Her face was pressed to his.
"I--I'm about to..." he moaned, shaking, shuddering atop her.
"Pull out!" she screamed, shoving one hoof against his chest to push him back. "You better not get me pregnant!" Her heart raced even faster, pleasure starting to give way to panic.
"Aa... aahh!" the colt moaned loudly in her ear, in a more urgent tone than ever. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped. He'd gone over the edge. Even she could tell.

Caramel bucked his hips back smoothly, and in one long stroke pulled all the way out. Twilight arched her back and gasped breathlessly, the sudden sensation overwhelming her. She dropped her hooves to her sides, pulling at the ruffled bedsheets. His slick, shiny cock twitched, standing free, pointing right at the purple filly.
She couldn't focus on anything. She heard the colt moaning over her. Felt his twitching, pulsing shaft tapping against her belly. But she barely even registered the strange, warm feeling across her stomach and chest until she suddenly felt something hit her in the face. She winced as if struck, and lay back flat on the bed, looking down over herself. Gooey streaks of thick, white fluid covered her nude form. A thick strand had been shot across her face, and she reached up uneasily to touch it, drawing a drippy white string between her cheek and her hoof. It was gross. It smelled musky, it felt warm and gooey. She quickly wiped it off on her coat.
Though Twilight's mind was still reeling, she manages to sit up a little, to try and take in her situation. For an encounter that started off so passionately, that seemed so intimate and even romantic, it had ended up so pornographic, so debased. Caramel climbed off of her, his wilting cock dripping over Twilight's starry bedsheets. They were both soaked in perspiration, and the thick smell of sex and sweat hung in the air, filling the room. The colt sat nearby, back to her, wiping himself off with her sheets. Twilight lay there unattended, flat on her back. Her dark purple mane was mussed, her body was coated with thick white spatters, and a thick, stringy strand of the stuff hung from her face. The passion was gone. She felt somehow ashamed at what she'd done. The blushing unicorn just shrank against her bed, wishing she could just disappear.
Caramel finally finished up and turned around, sitting near her, but not touching her. She didn't look at him. She could barely believe she'd really done that. She was sore, and tired.
"That was great," he smiled.
Twilight hesitantly turned her head, looking towards him. She just stared at his chest. "...does this mean we're boyfriend and girlfriend now?" she asked, uncertain.
"Well, I don't know about that," Caramel shrugged. "But I'd definitely like to do that again."
Twilight hesitated. There was no warmth to any of it, not anymore. She had seen herself lying close with a stallion after the fact, wrapped lovingly in each others arms, basking in the afterglow. But she just felt used, degraded. This wasn't how she pictured her first time.
"Maybe you should get on the pill, so next time I can cum inside you," he grinned, leaning back closer to her. She forced an uncomfortable smile. "I bet you'd like that," Caramel whispered.
"Maybe," she muttered back.

She turned away a little, and then the colt leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. It caught her off guard. She looked back to him, wiping her cheek with one hoof, and he was smiling gently down at her. There was a softness in his face, like she hadn't seen all night. "Thank you, Twilight. I've... never done that before. I'm glad you were my first." He turned a little red, rubbing the back of his head. She stared for a moment. She hadn't considered that as a possibility. She didn't think perhaps he was a virgin too. He seemed so sure. But now he wore that vulnerable look once more, that meek expression.
Twilight turned red, and without even thinking, put her arms around his shoulders. She smiled in earnest, in spite of everything, and he kissed her again.
Maybe it hadn't been ALL bad. She would just have to figure it all out.

Rarity yawned silently in the darkness of the night outside the window. She tucked away her notebook and arose, stretching. It was time she got some sleep, too. It was far too late for her to be staying up. But these were just the kind of sacrifices she had to make for her friends.

Chapter 5: Rainbow Dash

"WHAT?" Spitfire shouted back over the roar of the wind.
"I SAID," Dash called back, squinting hard against the gale, "THIS IS AWESOME!"
"YEAH!" The Wonderbolt called back with a smile, her eyes hidden behind thick flight goggles. "LET'S TAKE IT THROUGH FROM THE TOP ONE MORE TIME!"
With a flash through the sky, the cadre of fliers veered a sharp right. As a simple practice run of their stunt routine, they kept their performance in check, and special effects were at a minimum. No crackling swarms of storm clouds followed them, and Rainbow Dash was so far from rainboom speeds she left no natural trail. But as they swept through the skies, scattering sparse clouds and cutting across the azure plain, their grace and concerted poise was as undeniable as ever. Their new guest kept up almost without a fault, and in what was only her third time through the routine, she held pace and matched every loop and curve, darting close to the ground when necessary, soaring high towards the sun when it was called for.
The wind filled her ears, a dull roar that faded the world far below. Adrenalin coursed through her system. So long she'd looked forward to this moment that in the presence of it she found her mind had trouble keeping up. As she wove through the flight patterns, hemmed in on either side by a flight pattern of Wonderbolts in full outfit, she kept clawing at it in her head. All she could think was how amazing it was, how real. Every second was overlaid with frantic thoughts.
"This is really happening," she told herself, over and over, endlessly. "This is it. I'm flying with the Wonderbolts." She repeated it until it lost its effect. But it was all she could do to hold onto the present, as though focusing all her senses on it would make the experience last longer, give it some permanence. Tears streamed from the edges of her eyes as the young blue pegasus soared high and graceful. It was the perfect moment, tainted only in knowing that it would have to end.

"That was awesome!" Dash shouted for the third time, excitedly following Spitfire as the veteran Wonderbolt paced ahead over the marble tile of their Cloudsdale headquarters. It was hardly an insightful thing to say, but Dash was swimming in endorphins and absolutely flushed with heady experience after flying with them, and it was a sentiment they could all share. Most of the others had gone their own ways, or lingered near the skyward track, and in the quiet of the off-season no spectators, reporters, or other interested parties crowded the spacious halls of the cloud-carved structure that served to house and train the team of amazing stunt-fliers.
The demanding precision and coordination of every careful movement had taken more out of Dash than a simple race for speed, or even a more complex routine like she'd occasionally attempted. It was care, teamwork, and accuracy that put an extra demand on top of everything. They hadn't been in the air more than an hour, and yet her wings were sore, her legs were tired from her outstretched posture, and her head was achy with near-whiplash at the daring loops and hairpin turns. And yet for all her post-flight weariness, her enthusiasm wouldn't let her energy wear. Giddy excitement kept Dash bouncing on her hooves, trotting eagerly beside her uniformed idol, gushing with starstruck adoration.
"You were great out there," Spitfire smiled warmly, her mellow and assuring demeanor doing nothing to calm Dash's hyperactive mood. If anything, her compliments only encouraged her.
Dash clenched her eyes shut and grinned with uncontrollable energy, nearly shaking. She fought back a girlish squeal and pumped her front hooves in the air. "Thanks!" she bubbled, "You were great too! I mean, you're ALWAYS great! You all are! Wow, I'm just... I can't believe it! I can't believe I'm actually here with you! This is... Wow! I mean, just wow!" She ran excited circles around Spitfire as they both continued down the halls.

She had Rarity to thank for all of this. Her mind kept coming back to it, and as long as she thought about it, she couldn't stop smiling.
With all the horrible stuff going on, all the stuff that Rarity and Applejack and Pinkie Pie had been through, leave it to her to pull together something to cheer everyone up. Of course it would be her. Her generosity was almost unimaginable. Dash was always thankful to have her as a friend, but today, more than ever.
Applejack was there. Real mad, talking up a storm about what they should do. Dash was on her side this time. Someone had to do something. Pinkie Pie didn't seem like she was taking it seriously. Fluttershy was there, but she was no help. Quiet, as usual. Twilight was pretty quiet too. Everypony was waiting on her research, but she barely said anything. Just stayed in the corner. Said they should go to Princess Celestia, but AJ demanded one more day, like they'd agreed. Even Applejack's brother was there, that big red stallion. Big Mac? Smelled like dirt and hay. What was he doing there? It was guys like him that got them into this mess.
Then Rarity came in.
She had those tickets. A neat, floating stack of special all-day passes to the spa. AJ was almost insulted at first, that she could think of going to the spa at a time like this. But then Rarity had gotten all soft and quiet, she just lowered her head and said this was all she knew how to do. Fluttershy whispered to Applejack, and Dash overheard, that it was just her way of dealing with it, and that seemed to change things. Fluttershy and Twilight jumped at the opportunity. AJ's expression changed. She smiled, all sympathetic, and graciously accepted. And of course Pinkie was in love with the idea.
Only Dash held out. She didn't want to go to some stupid spa. She needed to do something about this, find out who was behind this and kick their ass. And she was even more adamant when she found out that Rarity had only five tickets. And that it was Dash, specifically, who wouldn't get one. That really soured things.

The others shook their heads. There was no way they could enjoy themselves at the spa if someone had to be left out. No pampering treatment was worth knowing one of their friends was miserable at home, dwelling on everything, stewing in their loneliness. But then Rarity piped up again, and said Dash wouldn't be at home. She'd be out.
With the Wonderbolts.

Dash smiled. It wasn't long ago, but in the flurry of emotions that followed, she could barely remember the specifics how she reacted. Incredulous first, then ecstatic. Nobody could believe it - least of all Dash - but Rarity had somehow gotten a VIP pass. A day with the Wonderbolts. The kind of prize Dash would have sent a thousand sweepstakes submissions for a chance at, and there it was, a laminated, glittering blue ticket floating in the air. All hers. No strings attached.
Only Rarity could be that generous.
Dash forgot all about her blustering, aimless rage she'd been building, and she spun Rarity up, hugging her tight and nearly crashing out a window she had leapt so high. It was unreal.
So the girls went off to their spa and she had blasted off to Cloudsdale, just sitting on the white steps to the Wonderbolts training academy until they finally opened up, and everything since then had been so good it might as well have been a dream. Everything was like she imagined it, only better, because this time it was actually happening.

"Hey kid," came a voice, snapping the blue pegasus filly back to reality. Dash shook her head, glanced to Spitfire, who stood expectantly at a crossroads in the beautiful white halls of the academy. "I said c'mon. Let's go hit the showers."
Rainbow Dash stared for a moment, swallowed hard. The actual shower room of the Wonderbolts. It would be like she was really part of the team. Behind the scenes, in the thick of everything. Only one thing could possibly make it better.
Spitfire.
The allure of the backstage areas, the day-long pass, even the privileged treatment, none of that seemed to matter when confronted with the opportunity to share a shower with Spitfire. In the intimate, private closeness of the Wonderbolts' very own shower room. Just the two of them. Together. Her wings quivered, and she held them close to her sides. "Yes!" Dash blurted, then recovered clumsily: "I mean, yeah. Sure. Let's hit the showers." She smiled. Tried not to show how eager she was for the opportunity.
It didn't matter, though. Spitfire smirked, knowingly. She must have picked up on it. Gave her an odd, encouraging look. A raised brow. Practically bedroom eyes. Dash could barely take it. It had to be a dream. Maybe a very different kind of dream than she had first thought.
The kind she wouldn't tell her friends about.

The yellow pegasus led her on down the hall, and Dash followed anxiously, hot on her heels. Her eyes fell on her backside, watching Spitfire's toned legs and firm ass as the Wonderbolts' captain paced calmly across the marble tile, her hot orange tail swishing side to side over the cool blues of her uniform. Dash almost melted. It was too good to be true. Her eyes caressed the flier's every curve, and her face turned red as her thoughts rapidly turned to unmentionable subjects.
Together they reached the door to the shower room, far in the back of the Academy, near the tracks and training rooms. Far from all the other ponies. Goggles back on her head, Spitfire nudged the door open. "After you," she smiled. Dash was all too eager to oblige, and with a sheepish "Thanks" slipped in past her.
She paused just after the doorway, taking in the room. Clean, shiny white tile and fine, polished wooden benches at intervals kept it as classy and impeccable as the rest of the lavish, regal academy. The fixtures and showerheads were gilded, alternating gold and silver, all streaming hot water and filling the
room with steam. It seemed a waste to keep all that water going, even when not in use, but there was no shortage of it in Cloudsdale, and it made the place seem almost mystical. It was a palace of a shower. Rainbow Dash's eyes wandered all about the open room, through the thick steam, taking it in, in awe. And best of all, it wasn't just any palatial shower room. It was the Wonderbolts palatial shower room.
No, the best part was Spitfire. She came in right behind her. They really were going to shower together. It was really happening. Dash's mind started running in loops again, trying desperately to register the present as firmly as possible so it could be remembered perfectly. This was perfection, euphoria. A taste of heaven. She began to turn, to face Spitfire, when an unexpected development slowly wiped the smile from her face.

Soarin was there.
The blue stallion stood on his hind legs, one fore hoof against the shower wall, washing himself beneath the steaming streams of hot water. He didn't have a stitch on, fully exposed before the two mares. He gave a brief glance to them, before returning to his shower, and nodded with a smile. "Hey girls!"
"Uhhh..." Dash blushed brightly, eyes wide. She glanced away, more out of surprise than politeness.
"What's wrong?" Spitfire whispered, concerned.
"I didn't-... I mean, I guess I didn't realize the showers were co-ed." Dash muttered, trying not to seem as embarrassed as she was.
"Yeah, of course. We do everything together as a team." Spitfire shrugged.
"But he's... naked!"
Spitfire glanced to Soarin, then back to the other blue pegasus. She paused, cocked her head to one side, squinting at Dash as though she'd just been asked a trick question. After a long, uncomfortable moment of Dash averting her gaze, the yellow pony finally spoke up, uncertain. "So are you."
"Oh. Ha, yeah." Dash murmured, sheepishly. She'd never encountered Soarin out of his uniform quite like that, and it had been a little surprising to see the stark contrast of his natural blues.
She looked back at him. He was athletic, muscular and trim. Handsome, she guessed. But even he wasn't quite to her tastes. She knew plenty of fillies who clamored for Soarin's attention, but as for Dash, she only had eyes for one. Still, Dash mused, not quite realizing she was staring openly, he seemed to be in the best shape of the bunch. It seemed weird now that the addition of clothing made his nude state seem so striking and even suggestive, when it should have seemed normal. She was trying to figure out how to put that sentiment in words, and explain her odd behavior, but when she turned around the words were caught in her throat again, and her jaw dropped. Spitfire was stripping her uniform off, and the skintight fabric peeled off that bare, brilliant yellow form. Dash knew she shouldn't stare, but she was past the point of caring, let along being able to control herself. For her part, the mare was hardly discouraging to that gaze. She stretched, disrobing as casually as she could without losing that seductive flare. Every perfect curve along her body grew all the more sensual when left bare. The taut fabric peeled down her legs, rolled down her flank, and finally kicked off onto the floor. And even then, the blue pegasus filly couldn't pull herself together. All she could do was keep staring. Spitfire grinned suggestively, and pretended not to notice Dash's lusty gaze following her as she trotted past her, beneath the running showers.
Dash startled when she heard a nearby scoff, and turned to see Soarin, still showering, shooting her a teasing smirk. "C'mon, girl. Act like you've had some."
She looked back, over a faint blush. "Oh, I have!" she returned with a proud grin. She was lying through her teeth.

"Hey kid, you coming or what?" Spitfire beckoned from beneath the showers. Her mane was soaked, slick and flat, long orange hair draped wet around her neck. She looked stunning this way, like a princess. A goddess. She could be Celestia's cousin. Dash didn't need to be asked a second time. She hurried into the steamy showers, a thick mist of warm vapor hanging all around her legs and hot water pouring down from the ornate showerheads above. She sidled up next to the older yellow mare, as close as she could without seeming to intrude. She didn't want to ruin this. She wasn't going to make any sudden moves. She'd come too far to blow it now. Better to play it safe than sorry. After all, if nothing happened between them, she'd still have the whole day to look back fondly on. She'd still be able to say she showered in the official Wonderbolts shower room, saw the academy the way only real Wonderbolts got to see it. She just... wouldn't be able to mess around with Spitfire. She wouldn't want to miss the opportunity if it was there, but that was the worst that could happen. Right?
Again, Dash was jolted back from her self-doubting daydreams by the yellow pegasus. She had her hoof against Dash's leg. "Hey, calm down. You look nervous. Don't be," she smiled. Dash felt her legs turn to jelly. It took everything she had just to remain standing. If she weren't already in the shower, she'd have made a mental note never to wash that leg again. She glanced absently over her shoulder at Soarin, who was still showering farther up the line. She'd never anticipated a thought like this ever occurring, but right now, she wished he'd leave. What she wanted was privacy.

Dash tried to relax. Let the water cascade over her head, run down her back, drape her multicolored hair down around her neck. She reluctantly closed her eyes, not wanting to miss the world around her for a second. She was surrounded by warm darkness. The water bore down on her, and for a brief moment, she almost felt the room slipping away.
She felt a hoof on her again, this time resting gently on her side. She opened her eyes slowly, turning to Spitfire with a much more relaxed expression, an accepting smile.
"Look," Spitfire began, gently, "You've got some great moves. You proved out there what kind of a flier you are. Recruitment opens in the Fall. I don't want to get your hopes up, but with skills like yours... well. You've got more than a shot. I bet you'd like to be here as an official member. It could happen, maybe."
She patted the blue filly for a moment. Dash looked slowly down at the ground, her soaked mane draping all around her face, hemming in her vision. She thought about the prospect. Maybe. The potential reality. The voice sounded far away, muffled under the downpour from the showers. Her mouth was dry, and she didn't know why.
A hoof slapped her haunches without warning, an encouraging kind of slap between athletes, perhaps, but then the young VIP guest pushed her hair out of her face to see Spitfire grinning suggestively at her. "Of course," the yellow pegasus mused, wreathed in steam, shiny and clean and wet. "Of course, there's other ways. Every now and again we run into a very special colt or filly who just..." she paused, stepping a little closer. "...needs to be part of the team." Dash's heart nearly stopped.
Now or never.

Dash stepped forward, bringing her mouth to Spitfire's in a move that was just shy of a headbutt. It was unabashedly eager, clumsy, but passionate. But when she found her lips with her own, it didn't matter. Spitfire kissed back, just as eager. Dash's tight chest relaxed. She sighed out her nose. Her heart felt like it was beating again. The older yellow flier pulled her close, forcefully, parting her lips and licking at her tongue and kissing and breathing and moaning against her mouth. Their tongues played across each other, Dash's eyes nearly rolled back, and under the steamy waters they pulled each other close with a kind of passion that bordered on ferocity, as though they might drift away if they stopped holding on.
When they finally broke the kiss, Dash was gasping for air; she had been so consumed by the kiss she barely paused to inhale. "Yes," she panted, breathily. "Yes, yes yes YES Spitfire oh my gosh you have no idea-" she began to ramble, only to be wrapped up in another incredible kiss. She saw stars. It was the best day of her life. The best second. In the back of her mind, for a fleeting second, she made a note.
She had to remember to thank Rarity.
Spitfire kissed passionately up her neck, near her ear, across her mouth. She bit gently at her lips, pulled at them with her own, and when Dash moved her tongue out to encircle her mouth with its tip, the yellow flier sucked on it softly. Dash moaned, mouth hanging open. It was too much. Rainbow Dash couldn't even see straight. Here she was, in the Wonderbolts' shower room, making out with her idol, in a way she'd never made out with anyone in her entire life.

They broke off only after several minutes of this, but it was too soon for Dash. She whimpered anxiously, uncomfortably aroused now, eager for more. The yellow Wonderbolt circled around her slowly, and as she followed her with her gaze, Dash caught something out of the corner of her eye. She glanced over to see Soarin standing under the opposite row of fixtures, facing them. He was watching them rather openly, a very broad, utterly pleased smile on his face. He made no attempt to hide his erection, which stood twitching visibly beneath him, stiff and straining. "Oh, don't mind me, girls," he smirked, looking Dash straight in the eyes. He was totally unashamed.
"Uhh..." Dash whispered to Soarin out the side of her mouth.
"Shhh," Spitfire back, standing behind her.
"Spitfire, we've got an audience," she whispered more urgently.
"So what?" the Wonderbolt whispered back, placing her hooves front on Dash's haunches. "Getting performance anxiety, kid?" She smiled softly, brushed the blue pegasus's wet tail aside, and rubbed slowly against her bared, delicate little lips. That was all it took to make her forget her voyeur. She shivered, let out a loud gasp, and looked back, over her shoulder, at her partner. Spitfire didn't look away. She met her gaze, the veteran's fiery eyes looking deep into Dash's own, and didn't stop rubbing for a second.
Dash's hips shifted anxiously from side to side. Her rear legs shuffled impatiently. The feeling was electric, incredible. It made her shoulders shake. But it wasn't enough. She wanted more. "Wanna lie down?" Spitfire asked. Dash rolled onto the ground so fast she nearly hurt herself, lying on her back beneath the pouring water, blanketed by steam like a sauna.

She watched as Spitfire climbed on top of her, sideways. The flier's legs splayed, crossing her own. Her eyes flickered open and shut in indecision. Part of her wanted to shut out the distractions of the visual world and focus on nothing but the sensation that was to come. Another part couldn't bear to miss a second of it, wanted to record every second of it in a mental catalog, for all the sweaty, urgent, primal memories to come. Between them, they kept Dash inhaling shallow, almost holding her breath, her wide eyes flickering between open and shut as Spitfire mounted her, legs crossed together. She lowered herself, hips against Dash's. Her eyes wrenched shut, focusing on the incredible, intimate sensation. The young blue filly sighed, shivered. Felt the yellow pegasus's soft, wet lips against her own. Pressed together at their most sensitive spot. Over the sounds of the water, she heard Spitfire moan, just as she began to move, grinding against her. And then...
Nothing.

She waited a moment, feeling Spitfire's hips rubbing against hers, her thighs interlocking with her own. Felt the dull, odd sensation of that bared yellow pussy grinding against her own.
Dash opened her eyes, looking down. The Wonderbolt was moaning, head thrown back in euphoric abandon as she rubbed back and forth, unsteadily grinding against her. Her whole body quivered with a palpable ecstasy, an invisible thing, seen only through the effects it rendered upon her. She was lost, like Dash was moments ago.
But Dash didn't feel it.

She could see the pleasure on Spitfire's face. That much was clear. Legs hooked in a tangle, hips grinding at each other, delicate, slippery wet pussy lips rubbing sensuously together. Spitfire was lost to the moment. The invisible waves of passion left their passing mark on her face and body, which was flushed and shaking. But Dash couldn't feel it herself.
It felt clumsy, even dull. It was like using her hooves, but with less pressure, less precision. She closed her eyes tight, tried to zero in on the sensation. The unique feel of those tender petals against her own. When that didn't work, she opened her eyes again, focused on the sight of yellow on blue, the naughty image of their joined, slick lips together like an impossibly intimate kiss. That didn't work either. The texture, the tactile response, it was incredible, unique. But the pleasure was like grinding against a pillow. That hadn't been enough for Dash in years, and at least with that she had better control.
The blue filly shifted on the floor underneath Spitfire. She tried to bring her hips up. Rubbed in response. Began to grind back. Propped herself up on her fore hooves, trying to buck up in rhythm. Nothing worked. It didn't feel bad or anything, but she was never going to finish like this, not in a million years. She needed more. But no matter how she shifted or repositioned, it wasn't doing it for her. Frustration grew visibly on her face. Here she was, legs locked together with her very idol, and she couldn't even begin to get off. Another minute passed, then two, and it was only getting more uncomfortable. She felt like she was going crazy. Spitfire was shivering and moaning, but her reaction only made her more upset, wondering how she could be feeling so incredible. What was she missing?

Unable to stand it any longer, Dash pushed herself up and stood again under the hot showers. Spitfire, too lost in the pleasure of the moment, was too out of it to stand with her, and merely looked up to the blue pegasus from the floor, lying overwhelmed on her back. She just needed to try something else, that was all. They had all day. There were plenty of things to try together.
She planted her hind legs firmly on the pearly white shower room tile but dropped her front down, bringing her face between the yellow flier's thighs, face less than an inch from her bared little mound. Those delicate lips, glistening wet, framed by streams of water that trickled beneath the downpour, even trailed from Dash's soaked rainbow mane which hung about her neck. She leaned down gently, tongue out, licking gently across that perfect pussy, parting her lips to either side, running from bottom to top with the tip of her tongue.
She tasted like honey. Absolutely, exactly like honey. Spitfire shivered uncontrollably and dropped her head back flat on the shower room floor, gasping something Dash couldn't understand. That worked, she thought. She smiled. This was better.
She did her best to focus on the reality of the situation, trying to reconcile the fact she was actually here, going down on her idol. Moaning through her open mouth as her tongue went to work, teasing those soft lips. She was incredible, Dash thought. Beautiful. Sensuous. Delicious.
In the middle of that perfect moment, Dash slowly became aware of a sensation behind her. At first she dismissed it, thought it was just her own tail drenched under the water, brushing her backside. But after a moment it was too much to deny, something poking her from the back. She reluctantly pulled her head away from between Spitfire's legs and glanced over her shoulder to her raised haunches, and quickly snapped out of her dreamy state.

Soarin was standing behind her, nuzzling at her inner thighs, breathing in deep and taking in her intimate scent. Her mouth dropped open and she blushed hard, almost incredulous. She was about to say something when the blue stallion rose up a little, placing his hooves on either side of her hips and shifting up closer to her without a word. As he sidled up closer, bringing his hips close to her, he noticed her watching and locked eyes, giving her a soft smile. It must have been meant to be reassuring. Instead, it sent Dash's heart running like a racehorse. This was not a good position to be in. Not at all. His erection brushed her inner thigh, and Dash turned urgently to Spitfire, still beneath her. She gave the pinned pegasus a frightened, almost panicked look.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Spitfire moaned with a smile and a sort of passive laugh.
"Spitfire!" Dash whispered, hissing through her teeth. Her eyes were huge, scared, and she gestured back, nodding over her shoulder. "T-tell him to stop!" she urged. Soarin was rubbing himself against her thighs, and slowly moved up to her soaked, anxious pussy.
In a move that did nothing but panic Dash further, the yellow pegasus reached up and draped her front hooves around the back of Dash's neck, against her shoulders. She raised her brows. Her face looked genuinely sympathetic, but not particularly concerned. "Sorry, kid. We're... kind of a package deal."
"What?!" Dash gasped, now legitimately frightened. Panic had set in faster than a summer rainstorm. She could feel the tip of that slippery erection starting to part her lips from behind, and she stiffened up.
"Shhh," Spitfire whispered, cooing, pulling Dash's head down a bit and nipping at the worried filly's ear, "C'mon, Rainbow, be a team player."
She was only getting more distraught. "But I don't even LIKE boys that w-!"

She never finished that sentence. Behind her, Soarin clamped his hooves in on her bare hips and without ceremony rolled his hips forward in one firm buck, slamming half of the entire length of his impressive cock into Rainbow Dash's slick pussy. She was small, muscular, and had never been penetrated before, but also so worked up he went in smooth and fast, feeling that heavenly tightness around his aching shaft without having to fight its resistance.
"NOOO!"
Dash nearly bit her tongue off, jaw snapping shut with overwhelmed sensation, eyes going wide and glazing over, losing focus. The world blurred, sounds fell away, and her soaked wings snapped out fully to either side with sudden surprise. It was like a bomb had gone off. Soarin was in her all the way to the hilt, more inches than she could count, but certainly not more than she could feel. He filled her up so fully she couldn't even move for fear of making it worse, and she felt utterly stretched. She was violated. Impaled by that thick, twitching cock. Taken by surprise. By a boy. Penetrated by a stallion. A STALLION. A boy. Soarin was one of her greatest heroes, but she felt nothing for him but platonic admiration. No love. Certainly no desire. Not like this. It was repulsive. Vile. How could he do this? Why would he do this? Why would Spitfire just let him do this?
He pulled his hips back slowly, drawing out of her quivering, soaking wet pussy. The feeling of even the slightest movement was painful, overwhelming, blanked her expression again, and the shower room all but disappeared. Her mind couldn't form coherent thoughts, her consciousness descending into something like a blaring siren, filled with nothing but primal notions. Panic. Pain. Struggle. Run. Her brain screamed at her, her legs quivered and began to buckle, and she couldn't even begin to process the horrible reality. Now several inches out, he finally stopped moving. But before her senses could return to her, he slammed his hips forward again, forcefully, slapping against her raised ass, driving his cock all the way inside, to the hilt.

Dash climaxed instantly.

For a second she was totally lost in it. The overwhelming sensation of being penetrated so deeply, filled so fully, it was like a short circuit in her mind, blocking out everything else. The feeling crackled through her like a thousand volts. Her legs twitched uncontrollably and her ass shook up and down in a spasm of instinctive pleasure, even against the subconscious pain and the conscious protests. Her muscles tightened, her pussy squeezed lewdly around Soarin's stiff shaft, and she went cross-eyed momentarily as she utterly lost control of herself. When her senses began to return, Soarin was bucking away at her from behind, fucking through her orgasm and slamming his cock in and out of her tender young hole, his hips slapping loudly against her ass beneath the streams of hot water. Every thrust hurt, felt like it was about to rip her apart, poking her so deep it made her wince. She felt nauseous. She never anticipated this. She never wanted this. Not even with Soarin. Not with ANY stallion. And if she knew this was in store for her, she might even have passed up her chance to fool around with Spitfire.
But it made her cum.

She had been grinding against Spitfire for minutes straight, and felt nothing. Making out had brought her to excitement, but neither the yellow flier's hoof nor her tender pussy had done anything to get her off. And now she had cum almost two seconds after being penetrated for the first time. And it wasn't just any climax. It was mind-blowing. It made her see double. She had almost felt like passing out. Every part of her mind recoiled from the horror, the revulsion and realization that she was being fucked by a huge, throbbing, slimy, gross cock. But her body didn't listen. It felt incredible. It rattled her brain in her skull. It set her haunches on fire. It shook her teeth. Even now, her orgasm passed, electric surges of purely physical pleasure shot through every inch of her body, radiating in pulses from her sore, stretched young pussy with every thrust from that unwanted intruder.
She was disgusted by that vile phallus. She had no love for its owner, no desire, and no passion.
But it felt incredible. It shook her to her very core.

And in a brief moment of tragic clarity, her hopes died. Snuffed out in a second.
She knew it would never feel like this with Spitfire.
Nothing could ever come close.

She dropped her head forward, and her waterlogged mane fell over her face, blocking out the rest of the world more literally.
She clenched her jaw, wrenched her eyes shut tight. Tears streamed down her face, instantly lost in the rivers of clean, hot water pouring down through her hair. Her face was burning, like a hot coal was smoldering just behind her nose. She began shaking, and between whimpering gasps that accentuated every thrust, she started to sob quietly, unheard by her heroes over the showers. Everything else faded away, slowly, and all she could focus on was the curtain of hair draped over her face. Spitfire was whispering something, but she couldn't hear it. Her eyes didn't focus, her ragged, shallow breathing couldn't level out, her shoulders shook with every ruined sob. Her mind barely registered, but her body kept throwing waves of unwanted pleasure from every thrust.
Another orgasm rocked her body like an explosion, and her mind practically shut off. Her jaw dropped, hanging open loosely, and she cried, drooled, moaned. Dash's legs quivered and shook, and behind her, Soarin shifted his weight to try and keep her ass up in the air, where it was more vulnerable, more accessible. She couldn't move away. She couldn't see straight. She couldn't do anything. What good was she, if she couldn't even keep him out of her? What kind of pony was she, if that horrible thing made her feel... like this?

Her glazed eyes were red from crying. She peered out as her draped, soaked mane was gently parted away from her face. Her expression was totally changed. Weak. Miserable. She leaned forward shakily, expecting Spitfire's face, wanting a reassuring kiss, a tender whispered word, a promise everything would be okay.
Instead, she was greeted by a huge, dark cock just inches from her face. Dripping. Disgusting. Water trickling down from its tip. It was being washed clean by the streaming water from the showers, but it still looked filthy. Everything about it. It was almost like a weapon, accusatory in its very shape. Rainbow Dash's tired eyes tried to focus in on it, going almost cross-eyed. If it wasn't so ugly, it would be almost funny. The kind of thing little colts and fillies doodled on schooldesks when teachers weren't looking, because they seemed so silly, floppy, ridiculous.
Twitching so close to her nose she could almost feel its heat, there was nothing funny about this one, poised beneath a broad white chest. He shifted side to side, and she tried to look up, to recognize him. Couldn't see his face. His cutie mark, briefly visible on his flank as he adjusted himself. A stick. Or perhaps a club. She didn't recognize it. Another Wonderbolt who must have come in when she wasn't looking, who decided to invite himself into the action. Or had Soarin offered?
Or Spitfire?

Dash's mouth hung agape, and her scared, betrayed eyes frantically glanced to the yellow mare, looking out from beneath the stallion's chest. Spitfire sat beside her on her hind legs, leaning forward, her tongue outstretched and playing eagerly against the side of the white pegasus's twitching cock. She licked hungrily at it, closed her eyes, leaned in more, let it rub wetly against her face, circled her lips, suckled at the stiff, repulsive flesh. Dash's mind receded more. She couldn't reconcile what she was seeing. Didn't want to believe it. Didn't want to see it. And definitely didn't want to be here. Not anymore.
Spitfire smiled obliviously at Dash, her obvious distress made less obvious by her multicolored hair plastered wetly against her face, by the wash of warm water carrying away her invisible tears. She reached a yellow hoof out toward her face, and Dash leaned into it quickly, hoping for the slightest solace, the most fleeting consolation. But the pegasus's hoof played at her cheek for only a second, sliding down her face to push gently at her jaw, opening the young filly's mouth wider. Before she had even a moment to process what she was doing, that enormous, vile cock thrust into Dash's gaping mouth. Her eyes went wider. She panted frantically, unevenly out her nose, hot breath falling over the thick, dark shaft even as it began to slide in and out, over her young lips, the underside of that fat shaft grinding against her warm, wet tongue. Her eyes began to roll back. The white stallion's cock started to thrust in and out, pumping into her mouth in short, urgent thrusts. It twitched, pulsed. The sensation made her shake. If her mouth hadn't been full, she would have felt like throwing up.
These were her HEROES.
Behind her, Soarin was picking up speed, ready to finish, his cock throbbing inside her so hard she could feel every twitch. It was vile. It was disgusting. It was rape.
She came again.

The world faded away. Fucked from both ends, Dash blacked out.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but she found herself on the back steps of the Academy. She had woken up in the changing room by the shower some minutes ago. She couldn't process it. Couldn't think straight. Couldn't see straight. Couldn't even walk straight. She had stumbled out here only with some help.
She raised her head weakly, exhausted and ashamed, and looked up the steps toward the back entrance. Spitfire stood in the great doorway. She was clearly drained from the orgiastic experience in the shower, but as chipper and excited as before, utterly oblivious to Dash's state of shock. She smiled to the blue pegasus filly.
"Thanks again for comin' by. You were great, kid. Maybe we'll see you again!"
The marble doors closed.
Dash sat on the steps for a long time, staring at the closed doors. She shook uncontrollably. Tears streamed down her red face. She hurt, sore all over, but the worst pain of all radiated from her pounding head, a deep ache that grew with every heartbeat, keeping her mind in stasis. She tried a dozen times to process it, to even attempt reflection, but the second she started thinking, it blanked. It was gone. She couldn't.

Her legs moved on their own. She stood slowly, weakly, her hind legs sore and quivering. She turned away from the academy, pointed in a familiar direction. Stepped to the edge of the cloud and started flapping slowly, drifting through the sky and on towards home.

Epilogue

"You can't do this!" Rarity shrieked.
"You're lucky we don't tie you up an' throw you in the lake!" AJ growled, literally spitting at the white unicorn in bondage before her.
The purple-maned fashionista was standing upright on quivering hind legs, front hooves strapped along with her neck in a kind of makeshift pillory Applejack herself had cobbled together. It wasn't pretty, but it did the job.

They were all there. Fluttershy, Applejack, Pinkie, Twilight, Dash. Even Big Mac was present, watching silently. His expression was dark. His eyes were hidden behind his mussed mane. His mouth was set in a grim frown. Rarity thrashed in her bonds, shaking the creaking stand that proved surprisingly sturdy.
"You must'a thought you were really smart, Rarity," Applejack scowled, barely controlling her rage. "I bet you didn't think we'd figure it out. But we put the pieces together. You... you no-good... cow pie! It was you all along! YOU!"
"I was going to tell you myself!" she hastily explained, "That's what I was coming over to do!"
"Yeah, right!" Dash cried, shakily.
"You were supposed to be our friend!" Twilight said. She was betrayed.
Rarity's mouth dropped and her eyes watered. Her expression was pleading, hurt. "I AM your friend!"
The entire group growled and shouted in response.
Even Mac spit at the idea. "What the heck kind of friend DOES that?!" Applejack demanded.
"I was trying to help you!" Rarity pleaded, on the verge of tears.
This time there was no revulsion, no angry shouts. Just utter silence.
After a moment, Twilight spoke up. "Rarity... you're... you're insane."
Rarity stared back, mouth agape.
"How... how in the name of Celestia does getting us - how does what you did... how is that HELPING us?" Twilight demanded, absolutely incredulous.
"I..." Rarity stammered. She had a plan. She had a reason. Didn't she? Of course she did. Her eyes glanced frantically between all her friends. On the wooden platform behind her, she heard a creak. Unable to look behind her, she could only sense the figure approaching, slowly, almost cautiously. Her heart jumped in her chest and she decided to hurry things up, while there was still time. "I was trying to teach you all a lesson!" She caught herself, gasping as her friends all glared angrily. "No-! I mean-! Oh, girls, listen to me! I was trying to show you how to be... better friends! To help you! It... was a learning experience!" She smiled, uncomfortably.
The rest of the girls stared, incredulous expressions throughout the small crowd.

"You think any a'this HELPED us?!" Applejack demanded, furious.
"Yes! Yes!" Rarity gasped.
"IT DIDN'T!" AJ shouted back.
The white unicorn stared for a second, mouth hanging open. She was struggling to explain herself, but finally put on the spot, everything began to unravel. Her carefully laid plan didn't seem as solid as it once did. And the truth was, she was having trouble answering why. How could it have come to this? Everything she did, she did for them, didn't she? Wasn't she just trying to help? But... they didn't seem happy. Not at all. And her reasons were quickly falling apart. She struggled in her bonds, searching frantically for an answer. "Oh, y-you don't understand!" Rarity stammered, blushing hard as she felt the presence behind her.
"Then explain it to us!" Twilight scoffed.
"Twilight!" Rarity urged, "Wh-what about you? You had fun with Caramel, didn't you?"
Twilight Sparkle's jaw dropped. Her brow set. She looked like she couldn't even believe what she'd just heard, so Rarity hurriedly continued before she could interject. "Please," the white filly whimpered, "You would make such a cute couple! A real boyfriend - wouldn’t that be nice? Didn't you want to see him again, after that lovely night?"
"Lovely n-!" Twilight began angrily, cutting herself off. She took a deep breath, so angry she was seeing red. "I never want to see that scuzzy creep as long as I live!"
"What?!" Rarity gasped.
"That slimy, underhanded date-rapist! That crawly creeper! I'd sooner fuck Snails!" she spat. The other girls gave her an odd look, both for her sudden, incredible and uncharacteristic vulgarity and her unprovoked mention of the gawky colt. Noticing the stares, she blushed, wiped her mouth as though physically cleaning away the dirty swear, but went right back to staring daggers at Rarity.
The white young filly stammered, unable to find the words to argue, and glanced to Dash. "What about Dash? Oh Dash, YOU appreciate what I did, don't you? I got you a date with the Wonderbolts! A chance to be intimate with your heroes! And you got a taste of what you were missing! Isn't that better?" She pleaded, desperate, "Isn't it better not living with confusion?"
"Not living with 'confusion'?" Dash repeated. "Why I ought'a--!" she growled, started forward, but Fluttershy and Pinkie grabbed her, held her back. She shook with anger. "I- I can't believe you would say- s-say-" her angry demeanor broke suddenly and a stream of tears ran down her face. "I've never been more confused in my LIFE!" Dash cried. "You didn't help me at all! You hurt me! You hurt all of us!"
Rarity's brows arched into a shocked, sad expression. Tears welled up in her eyes. She tried to say something, but Dash turned away, sobbing. Twilight patted her back gently, and AJ whispered soft consolations and encouragements. The young fashion designer couldn't find the words, suddenly couldn't think of anything to say. She glanced around, panicked, and heard more hoofsteps behind her. "Applejack, you-"
Applejack looked up from her attention to Dash. Rarity bit her tongue under the withering glare. She wanted to say something about independence, learning to count on others, but the words died in her throat. It didn't seem right to say anything.
"W-well," Rarity stammered, "What about Pinkie Pie? She seems fine!"
All eyes turned to Pinkie.
The pink party pony stood there, looking up at the bound filly. Her hair was fluffy, her eyes gleamed with energy, her tail twitched side to side in its impatient way. No one might have guessed what she had been through. Everyone looked at her, and she scanned the others, before looking slowly back up to the ramshackle wooden stage and the mounted pillory. "Rarity... what you did was wrong. And it hurt me. It was a really bad thing. Really, really bad." Rarity's mouth moved to speak, but there was only silence. Pinkie continued. "What happened is over, and fussing about it won't help anypony. The only thing I can do is keep going, and not let it get me down. 'Cause there's always gonna be bad things. But there's gonna be good things, too."
Pinkie glanced down, reflecting. Her expression was soberingly serious, but not maudlin or broken. "But just 'cause I'm gonna be okay doesn't mean it didn't happen. You hurt me, and you made me feel really bad." She looked back up. "You still did that," she said plainly.

Rarity's face was now streaked with tears. Her makeup ran down her cheeks. Everything was coming apart. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. In desperation, she finally turned to Fluttershy.
"W-well, what about Fluttershy? You can't say things didn't turn out well for her!"
Everyone looked at Fluttershy. Everyone but Mac. His expression soured, turning into a grimace. He bit down hard on the sprig of wheat in his mouth. Fluttershy looked to the ground and blushed "...How do you figure?" Twilight asked, still in disbelief.
"She-- her and Big Mac?" Rarity whimpered. "They... ever since... I mean, don't they make a perfect couple?"
Fluttershy looked up, eyes wide, her brow uncreased by worry. "Oh, no, you don't understand," she explained softly, "We're not going out."
"You're... not?" Rarity gulped. "But... ever since - you're always... I mean, you and he-..."
"Oh, no. We've been spending time together because I'm trying to help him get over what happened. He's been just torn up, the poor little guy!" Fluttershy said in her wispy tone as though talking about one of her sick animals, patting Big Mac gently on his side. He blushed, anger fading. He tore his gaze from Rarity and stared at the ground, his expression hollow. "He just needs to work through it."
"What about you?" Dash managed.
"Oh, I'll be all right," Fluttershy assured quickly, "I'm just worried about poor McIntosh. He just hasn't felt the same."
Rarity stared in disbelief.

"I guess that explains why Mac didn't want to... you know." Twilight mumbled, nodding at the hastily-constructed pillory.
Applejack sneered in disgust. "My big brother ain't about to hurt himself further by gettin' messed up with that white piece of trash."
She tried to think of something, anything to say, but she stiffened up suddenly when she felt breath against her unguarded rear. She shook in her bonds. Mac looked away, and Fluttershy turned with him, heading back towards Ponyville. "Come on, Big McIntosh, we don't need to be a part of this."
"Wait wait wait," Rarity pleaded with the remaining ponies. She glanced about uneasily. She couldn't just take it all back. It was too late for that. And besides, her plan had been sound, hadn't it? She couldn't turn her back on it. She'd come this far. She could still salvage it. "You... you just don't understand. You know I love you, all of you!"
"We thought you did." Twilight muttered.
"I do! I did it because I love you! I'm sorry if you felt hurt, but - but I was only trying to help, I swear!"
There was a silence. Then Pinkie Pie, of all ponies, was the one to speak up. "I believe you, Rarity. You just weren't yourself." She said, sounding genuinely sympathetic. Rarity smiled weakly, unevenly. Then Pinkie smiled back, shrugged nonchalantly. "But you still have to take your medicine!" she bubbled, turning around and prancing back to town as though nothing had happened.
The white unicorn stood in shock for a moment, then felt her tail being pulled, tugged, and swished aside. Her pale face went bright red, hot blush rising to her elegant features.
"Eughhh," Dash groaned, wincing. "I don't wanna see this. I'm gonna go do some laps or something to get my mind off this." She turned and took off into the sky, already starting to show a bit more energy than the day before.
Only Twilight and Applejack remained, watching the white filly shaking and rattling in her wooden bonds. Her unseen 'suitor' sniffed around behind her, tugging at her tail, curiously toying with her. Rarity gulped desperately. "Please, you have to believe me," she whimpered, "I... I know you're mad! I understand that! I can... ooh!" she startled, feeling the figure nosing between her legs. Her tone jumped, and she began speaking faster. "I can appreciate your frustration! But you have to believe me, I only did it to help you! I thought it would be for the best! You're my friends, and I did everything for you because of that!"
Applejack scowled and Twilight sighed. "Rarity, I don't know if we can ever be friends again. I don't know if we'll even be able to forgive you. But if we ever do, it's going to be a long, LONG road."
Rarity bit her lip, straightening out. She nodded quickly. "I--I understand! This..." she gulped, streaked tears running down her face. It had all come undone.
"I wanted to help you. I thought that... I thought that sex would - I just wanted to help!" she cried again, shaking her head, "But this... may not have been the best way to go about it."
Twilight frowned. AJ made an incredulous scoff, shaking her head, "Uhhhh, well gosh, y'THINK?"
"I'm sorry, girls. I really am!" Rarity gushed, sniffling. Finally, it had all come down. And yet for the first time in over a week, she felt a strange kind of clarity. "I know..." she took a deep breath through her nose, puffing up her chest, straightening up as best as she could. "I know I can't take it back. But... I swear, I wasn't myself! I don't expect you to forgive me. But I'm going to do everything I can to make it up to you, even if it takes the rest of my life!"
Applejack and Twilight looked at each other, nonplussed, but slowly, their expressions began to soften.
"I deserve this," Rarity said, firmly.
Twilight slowly glanced back. She gave Rarity a long, studious look. Finally, she closed her eyes. "We won't tell anyone." AJ looked up and then started to say something, but Twilight nodded to her. "But we're not taking the fliers down."

The two of them turned together towards the town, and without another word, they walked off, leaving the dense, overgrown edge of the Everfree Forest behind.
Rarity lowered her head, sniffling, and awkwardly wiped her tear-stained face against one of her locked-in front hooves. It was a chance. She'd take her punishment, however unpleasant. And then she'd do whatever it took to atone.
She felt weight on her back, something poking wetly at her haunches, and out of the corner of her eyes, two hooves came down from behind, straddling her shoulders. She looked to them and sighed, rolling her eyes. Long, unshorn gray fetlocks.
Mule hooves.
Of course.