Would You Like A Pie?

        It was early in the morning, barely past ten, yet Soarin felt terrible.

        Not too tired, rather, a bit tense.

        He continued to eye his reflection; somewhat dried up light blue coat, rustled up dark mane, and lastly, his iconic wing pair that had carried him to this point in his life. How else could he ever have gotten a fancy home like this one, and the prestigious lifestyle to go with it?

        That was very much a lie. Nopony made good bits nowadays in the showbusiness... All thanks the economy recession of the past year.

        For the past ten years, Soarin’s life had revolved around the Wonderbolts, the famous show fliers who performed shows throughout Equestria. From Canterlot to Fillydelphia, from Manehattan to Las Pegasus, there wasn’t anypony who didn’t know them.

        Yet now, the stallion, freshly showered and wrapped in a towel, was more interested in his reflection. If anything, he looked totally relaxed.

        However...

Come on Soarin, you can do it!

        No, I can't...

Yes, I can! I’m a grown stallion and more than-

        A stallion without balls...

Oh shut it! My family jewels are right the-

        Yet you’re still so stupid...

No, I’m just simple!A simple pony!

        Then how come this so called ‘simple task’ is so difficult?

        This left the stallion quiet.

        And staring at his green eyes.

        Then the doorbell rang...

        “Well, here we go.” The stallion pushed away from the cupboard and turned over to face the open bedroom door. He too passed the coat hook, from which hung his blue-yellow outfit, titular to the show fliers. Too bad he hadn’t needed to touch it for so long, as it was already coated in a layer of dust.

        As the door was left open, the toweled stallion took a turn in his apartment complex. Like so many other ponies, he too had needed to move to a cheaper location to cut down expenses. But on standard of living alone, he had gotten off pretty well; not too small, well lit up, opened a great view down on Canterlot’s streets, nice neighborhood and many other little quirks.

But it still doesn’t beat old Cloudsdale, the stallion walking down the steps thought, Wonder how well local weather teams are managing? Brothersought to have lots of cases with the dry season coming up.

        The doorbell rang.

Oh, right!

        Soarin hit the downstairs floor. Nothing too large, most of the space of his house was back upstairs. There was merely a small opening with a calendar, letters, bills and such to be left by the desk and a spot for occasional guests to leave their clothing.

        Not that he had them too often nowadays...

        The pegasus sighed just as he stopped a short distance away from his front door..

        Well, except one.

        It slowly opened up to reveal a golden yellow pegasus with blazing orange-amber mane.

        It was Spitfire. Just as he had expected.

        “Well, took you long enough,” the female pegasus commented and, without further asking, pushed herself inside.

        And closer to the blue pegasus.

        “Spitfire,” the stallion shortly greeted.

        But the other pegasus grinned deviously and pulled him closer, so that their heads were merely an inch away from one another.

        “How many times do I need to tell you this?”

        Spitfire planted a kiss on the stallion’s muzzle.

        “That’s how you greet your girlfriend,” the mare whispered, “And how come we’re still standing in hallway? My hooves are killing me!” And with that, she left the stallion behind, starting her climb to the main floor.

        Yet Soarin stood still for a moment.

        You can’t do it...

Shut up!

        Never... until you tell her.

        After Soarin too had gotten up the steps, he saw how the yellow pegasus had taken her spot by the couch. The pegasus had laid her back against the padding and stretched out her four hooves, the joint in her legs letting out resounding cracks as she did so.

“Ahh... feels so good,” Spitfire moaned, her orange eyes closed. “Man, I don’t know how you handle all this walking, Soary.”

        The blue pegasus wasn’t amused by his pet name.

        Although, if he’d have seen himself, faint red did appear on his cheeks.

        Laughter arose to his ears, making him snap back to reality, only to see Spitfire staring at him. She then patted the spot beside her and waved for him to come sit by her.

        “Come here,” she ordered.

He obliged to his captain.

        Instantly the yellow hooves fell on him, and pulled him in for a hug.

        A rather spicy one.

        “Please, Spitfire-” Soarin tried to talk, but was interrupted by Spitfire’s mouth, ready to explore his own. That it did well. He could feel the warmth of her tongue against his, as the two met in his domain. Even though they were being intimate, Soarin couldn’t help but note that it wasn’t even close to the ones Spitfire enjoyed the most.

        Rough and long, that’s how she liked it.

        Their tongues swirled over each other up to the point when Spitfire needed a breath. But the fire in her eyes, as Soarin saw, didn’t weaken in the slightest as the mare wiped her grinning mouth.

        “Heh, how do you do it Soary? Being able to act so calm and relaxed, yet turning into a beast whenever it's necessary?" The yellow pegasus's hoof trailed up her own muzzle, and she used it to shake her spiky mane.

        Soarin was about to shrug, but then he felt something press against him below.

        “Well, it doesn’t really matter,” she said whilst her lower hoof pressed against the stallion’s stomach, and proceeded to rub him out. Instantly on the receiving end, Soarin felt her motion and the jolts that ran through him with it.

The pressure started to build up underneath him...

Told you so...

Q-quiet! I can-ungh-still turn this over.

Then make it quick...

“S-Spitfire?” the stallion grunted in midst of the pleasure.

The hoof stopped, yet the pressure stayed. In double. Around his crotch.

“Yes?” she asked.

“I-it’s just that, t-there’s something I wanted to d-discuss with you...” he finally managed to mutter, although after very long struggle. Her look didn’t help at all; her bright eyes glaring at him like a fine gem.

Which was basically the truth.

It gave him strength. Enough so that his own hoof was able to push Spitfire’s away from him. Needless to say, she was shocked and her eyes practically bulged open whilst the stallion himself stared down at the floor. But he soon recovered, and sighed.

“Look, Spitfire. I... we need to talk about something.”

The pegasus gave him a searching look “Can’t it wait until later, after we’ve had our fun with your wingmate?”

But Soarin weakly shook his head “No. Sorry, but it is... about him, in a sense. Well, at least it involves him.”

Now her look turned to one of concern.

Soarin sighed once again, before turning to stare at her.

He knew she was the dream mare of thousands of stallions across the land, their wet dream champion. Anypony would jump at the chance to be with her. Who wouldn’t? She had the looks of Las Pegasus superstars and, as he had noticed on many occasions, the head of a genius.

        And now she was giving him that look.

        But he knew he had to stay strong on this one.

        “Spitfire... I think we should... give ourselves a little break... from this relationship.”

        A silence fell in the room. But their stare-off continued.

She dropped her gaze, defeated.

        The pegasus stood up, and so did Soarin.

        “Listen Spitfire-”

        A yellow hoof smacked him right in the middle of his muzzle. It wasn’t a very strong blow, and as such it only got him take a single step backwards.

        “How dare you!” she roared. “Have you already forgotten who it was that got you into the Wonderbolt business? Had it not been for me on that try-out day, you would be nothing! And I’ve been also kind enough to let you stay, even though you constantly slack off in practice flies and... gah!”

        Soarin’s trusty coffee table was sent flying across the room, as the stallion gulped, to contain his nerves.

        “Look, it’s just that-” The gulping helped, he found, as her burning eyes pierced through him. “That I think we should talk this over. This has been going on for more than a year and-”

        “Well, you didn’t seem to mind,” she muttered venomously.

        “No no... Don’t get me wrong, I do like you but...”

        The stallion paused, for not even he knew the answer.

        “Look, lets just sit down and talk, okay?” he asked, sighing.

        And to his surprise, the golden pegasus, too, sighed and nodded. However, her hooves moved towards the opening on the wall, leading further inside the house.

        “Okay, fine. But I think we both need a drink,” she said rather cheerfully, before walking away.

        Soarin relaxed significantly as Spitfire left.

        Despite this being the first time he had ever been around Spitfire whilst not in bed, he felt totally relaxed and relieved. Why wouldn’t he? For a once, he had been successful in doing something he’d been wanting, and that was having his captain down for a talk about their relationship.

        A smile slowly spread on his face.

Perhaps this could evolve to a full relationship? Spitfire is an interesting pony, even if a bit hollow on occasions...

As a major plus, he had also been able to stay in the Wonderbolts. Too much he had been fearing that his sorry flank would be thrown out the very instant he-

        A shadow fell over him from behind.

        “Sorry it took awhile, but your kitchen is one hay of a mess.”

        Soarin chuckled and turned to look upwards “Heh, sorry. Haven’t really had-”

        The last thing he saw was a glass bottle, held by a swinging, golden hoof.

        The taste of metal.

        It seemed odd, to him, yet it was the truth. The very first thing he noticed upon waking was a strange, metallic taste tickling his tongue. The same applied to his throat, although it was surpassed by the burning draught, like a dimly light fire.

        A cough.

        Then, a realization.

        He couldn’t close his mouth. Something was forcing him to keep it open. And not a little.

he felt how his jaws were pulled abnormally far apart, and the warm air hit the back of his throat.

Needless to say, it was not a pleasant feeling.

W-what the... w-whe-gah!

        Another cough followed, along with an almost blinding pain around his head. His forehead in particular felt like somepony was beating down on it with a sledgehammer, again and again.

        Soarin felt sick, and desperately needed some aspirin.

        “Ah, finally you’re awake. Was starting to worry, that the blow might have been a bit too hard.”

        His eyes shot open instantly.

        “But then again, I had to make really sure you’d stay out.”

        ...only to meet the rough cloth, completely blocking his vision. A few blinks later, he found it wasn’t all black; some light shone through the canvas and onto his eyes.

        Slight panic.

        A new realization.

        He couldn’t move. Not the slightest, and it didn’t matter how hard he tried, as something firmly locked all his hooves down. He also couldn’t help but note how a metallic plate of sorts pressed uncomfortably against his stomach.

        Not to mention how heavy his back felt.

        And how it was slightly tilted upwards.

        Sudden warmth on his backside lunged him back to reality. The dragging thing, that felt awfully familiar, trailed up and down his back, massaging all over until stopping by the wing base. The movement rather intensified over at the single spot, sending Soarin’s spine arching forward as much as possible due to the huge amounts of pleasure. Something that was only a matter of inches.

        Then...

Poof.

        A tiny giggle broke out while Spitfire’s hoof moved away from the outspread wings, the renowned blue pair.

        Well, to her there was something else...

“Well, somepony is ready,” she said, pleased to see the drooling stallion’s face blush “That’s good. You love to be touched there, don’t you?”

        Soarin wanted to answer, but couldn’t.

        “You must be now wondering ‘Why the hay am I bound?’ And please, a nod is enough.”

        Nod.

        “Well...” Spitfire trailed off.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

        “Oh, just in time! No matter,” Spitfire moved closer and gently grabbed his face “Now, Soarin, we’ll have a talk after your punishment. And please don’t try to struggle; you’ll only get bruised by the ropes.”

        She kissed him gently on his forehead, and pulled away.

        But Soarin had lost track of what Spitfire was saying, halfway through her last few sentences.

Punishment?

        The sound of Spitfire’s hooves clopping on whatever material the floor consisted of faded as she put progressively more distance between herself and Soarin.

Hey! Spitfire! What punishment?!

        The pegasus tried hard, but his speech was completely muffled, reduced to nothing more than a few slurred words. The sound would have shamed even a foal, had it been produced by one.

        The steps faded and faded...

        He tried to turn, but whatever was keeping him in place did its job well, and actually fought back by tightening the grasp on his body.

        The clopping stopped.

Creek.

        He heard a door open, and couple of hasty steps before hearing the door close soon thereafter. Then, the steps resumed, now moving back to him. This time, however, it sounded... louder, for some reason.

        His mind clicked.

Somepony else?!

        “Again, thanks for arriving on such a short notice. I know how busy you tend to be, especially on Friday nights,” he heard Spitfire speak to the other pony.

        A chuckle followed.

        “Not a problem at all, dear Spitfire. It’s my duty to go wherever I am needed. Besides, I owe you for sticking me up for that bachelor party gig.”

...S-stal-stallion...?

        The voice was deep, yet also somehow elegant. Like the speaker had grown accustomed to speaking friendly to everyone, but still keeping his voice masculine and strong.

It worried the Soarin deeply.

        “So you’re doing fine, then?”

        A snort was heard. “As long as the mares outnumber the stallions, and nobles on business trips leave their wi-” The stranger’s voice halted, along with the steps.

        Spitfire laughed. “Like what you see?”

        No answer.

What the flying feathers is-!

        A few lighter steps followed, closer to Soarin.

        “Oh, sorry. Totally forgot this silly wrapping. This is my gift for you, after all.”

        “Ifht?” Soarin mumbled.

His only reply was a giggle.

        One swift pull and the cloth flew away, caught in a golden hoof.

        His eyes didn’t need to adjust for the light, thanks to the bad cloth. He immediately saw everything.

        Not much was there to be seen. Only a mirror, a hoof’s length ahead of him.

        The mirror wasn’t the cause of Soarin’s worries, though. His reflection was.

        “HA HE UCK?!” The metal hooks were barely able to keep his blabbering mouth in place.

        The first thing he noticed were the eyelashes. They were abnormally long and, due to bright light above, gleamy against the otherwise light coat. Slightly above, first locks of a mane fell onto the forehead. One that wasn’t his, it seemed. The mane looked wrong, too. The raggy style Soarin had come to love was gone, replaced by straight, flowing locks. At the final minute,  his mind gave him a big buck, and made him realize it was also lavender in color, as opposed to his usual dark blue. In fact, the only thing left intact were his green eyes, kept open by the shock.

Another figure pushed up close and Spitfire’s face joined ‘him’ in the mirror, leaning in as close as possible.

“Well, don’t you look stunning, dear?” Spitfire smiled.

The stallions was still too shocked to answer and instead continued to stare at the reflection.

Spitfire’s happy expression stayed, as she moved off to turn look behind Soarin’s back.

A giggle. “‘I’m offended, Quick. You never looked at my backside like that.”

“That is quite true, but...” A whistle broke out. “Your girlfriend's got a damn fine plot!”

...Hang on. A PLOT?!

Spitfire kept her glance still, however at the same time her hoof moved to tilt the mirror in order for the bound stallion to get a proper look.

Soarin didn’t like what he saw.

From his waist up, he was wearing some form of skirt that stretched over his body. Particularly over by the groin area, yet it left his back-

His pupils shrunk to black dots the very second he saw his backside.

It was enormous. Not a large and muscular like a stallion’s, but round and well shaped. Well enough for the stallion to see the butt even from up front. No wonder he had felt so heavy, due to the two fleshy mounds, suspended over a meter in mid-air.

Too bad he turned his gaze a little higher, and caught the lustful gaze of the maroon earth pony.

        But the stallion briefly shook his head and looked away. “Okay Spitfire, what’s the big idea here?”

        Soarin tried to turn, to watch the female pegasus walk between him and the stallion, but couldn’t. “Well, to put it simple, this here is my girlfriend. And don’t give me that look, Quick. I’m into both genders.”

        The stallion, apparently called Quick, nodded. “Very well, then. And I’m guessing normal rules of anonymity apply, correct?”

        “Without question.” Spitfire smirked, and put her hoof down on her ‘girlfriend’s’ butt cheeks, giving each a gentle push, causing them to jiggle. “It took me ages to convince herto be tied up, and she’sa very shy pegasus, too.”

        “Always the shy ones... Too bad. I would know plenty of fellows willing to pay tons to get to play with a booty like this,” the earth pony said, gazing at the mare before him once again, with a devious smirk. Like a colt with a new toy to play with.

        Spitfire openly laughed.

        “Well, this is your lucky day then, Quick Stroke.”

        Her golden hoof suddenly slapped down, and the sound echoed throughout the room. A whimper followed.

        “Cause you get to fuck with herall you want,” Spitfire exclaimed.

        A laugh. Spitfire and Quick Stroke stared to the front and at the laughing pegasus.

Hang on, you cannot be serious. Hehe, good one, Spitfire. Really a nice way to get back at me. Now... explain. Soarin smiled. Joke’s over, guys.

        But then another laugh escaped Spitfire.

        “Just look at that. Dear is enjoying herself.”

        And Soarin’s smile slowly faded.

You... have to kidding. Right? There’s no way-

        He felt Spitfire’s hoof leave his butt. “Well, come on, Quick. I don’t pay you to stand around. Except on one field, and that should by now have been in action.”

        Loud steps.

        “Just remember. Herpussy is only for me, but I think you can find an alternate approach...”

        Panic finally took over Soarin as he realized it wasn’t a joke. The pegasus ferociously fought against his restraints, trying to break away. His efforts were in vain, he noticed, as the mirror revealed that he was bound with metal shackles, bolted to the floor.

        There was no possible way he could move.

        A shadow fell over him.

        Soarin turned to look back at the mirror.

Thump.

        And,

        And...

        And the stallion placed his...

ACHOO!

“Cut!” cried a voice, and an alarm rang, followed by hasty hoofsteps.

I-I’m terribly sorry.

A female unicorn, sitting close-by in a three-walled showcase stage and surrounded by recording equipment groaned audibly. Nearby her was a group of ponies operating a vast array of  cameras, lights, microphones, audio board, and all other kinds of equipment.

“For Luna’s sake. Just when it was going so smoothly, you had to sneeze.” the mare rubbed her face. “And by the way, your amplifier is still on.”

        Oh.

Click.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I truly am!” the new voice, quirky and definitely not the soothing female narrator heard couple of seconds ago, apologized.

The director rolled her eyes “Okay, quick break, everypony! Check all the props and then we’re back to filming.”

Back at center the room, the maroon stallion withdrew from the bound pony and turned over to greet one of ponies who had stepped onto the stage. A unicorn, carrying a tray of drinks and food.

“Very well, then,” Quick Stroke, the actor, said whilst sipping the hot tea, given to him by the unicorn waitress.

But over by the middle, the light blue pegasus groaned and rolled his eyes whilst the camerapony walked away, to replace the now useless reel inside his camera.. As he spat out the fake mouth restraints, to give his jaws a rest, the pegasus saw how one of the assistants approached him.

“Are you alright, mister? Is there anything you need? We do have some of the plot-enchantment potion left,” the pony, a male unicorn like most of the workers were, politely inquired.

The pegasus shook his head. “Nothing, only that we can get back to filming. I’d like for this to be wrapped up today.

“You can count me in too.” Both stallions averted their eyes, to look at the yellow mare. She didn’t look amused. “Time is important, as this is the last day we’ll be around here.”

The unicorn blushed. “Y-yes we know that, miss... A-although the manager has said that he’d very much like to keep the two of you. It’s unusual for two such great doubles to appear, let alone for the two greatest Wonderbolts.”

The assistant nervously rubbed his head. At the same time a supply cart pushed by some pony passed by, holding the necessary items for the following shot.

A freshly baked pie and a bright orange strap-on.

“Heh, I’d wish to know what the real Soarin and Spitfire would think when this movie hits the shelves.”

But the director unicorn levitated the megaphone over to her level “Okay everypony. Time to continue! All ponies expect actors, leave the stage!”

“Ah, well. Good luck, I guess,” the assistant muttered to the two ponies, before walking off.

As soon as he left, the yellow pegasus stared down at the bound stallin. The metal restraints over his hooves were real, so he was still imprisoned on the ground.

Their eyes locked to each other.

Then they both burst into laughter.

“Yes, yes, it’s great you’re all enjoying yourselves, but this movie won’t shoot itself so get to your positions and wait for the call!” shouted the now rather frustrated director as the last worker left the stage.

So the two calmed down.

“Better get back to work, eh, Soary?” the actor ‘Spitfire’ winked to the stallion.

So too did the actor ‘Soarin’, now placing the restraints just over his open lips.

“Right, Spitsy.”

The metal hooks pulled his mouth wide open once again. The yellow pegasus backed over to the side, and off from the camera’s view, as the camerapony trotted back to the open stage before taking a position for a full shot of the stallion’s expression.

“All set here!” the operator shouted after some fiddling around. Another pony walked onto the stage, levitating a black and white clapperboard behind him.

A few lines were written on it.

Studio: Playcolt Industries

Production: Would You Like A Pie?

Scene 2 Take 2

The two wood pieces clapped together.

“Action!”

        The stallion placed himself over the presumed mare.

        Soarin let out a whimper as the two hooves began massaging his humongous cheeks.

A/U: Thanks for Axel Nyan and certain someone, who wanted to stay anonymous, for editing this horrendous story for me. And yes, I know the lines aren't in straight, however FimFic nowadays hates Google Doc transfers.