Chapters Donkey Show
The trip from Appleoosa to Dodge Junction gave Moke and Jennet plenty of time to talk.
“That went pretty well, sis.”
Jennet nodded in reply. She was the thinker of the pair; he went along with what she said.
They walked another mile in relative silence until he spoke again. “Didn’t you think?”
“Yeah.” She took her eyes off the road for a minute to look at him. “You been keeping track of our potions?”
“We’ve got plenty left before we need to restock. If we’re careful, we can make the rest of our circuit without needing any more. Why?”
“Well, I was just thinking . . . we could have done better.”
“Well, maybe.” He cast his mind back to the crowd; they’d seemed willing enough to him. But he wasn’t the thinker.
“I just didn’t feel the usual vibe from the crowd. Not as many ponies came up on stage, not as many as last year.”
He’d noticed that, too, but didn’t want to say anything. To his mind, that had been her problem, not his.
“I dunno.” They’d made plenty of bits; there had been no financial concerns.
“I felt it.” Her voice was firm, sure. “I think we need to work on the opening.”
“The opening.” Moke frowned. He had a speech, and since he wasn’t the smart one, it had been practiced and practiced until he could give it in his sleep.
“Not your speech,” she said. “That’s fine.”
He breathed a sigh of relief. “So, what, then?”
“I think it’s me.”
“No.” He thought it was her, too, but he couldn’t say that. Not just because he didn’t want to insult her, but because he didn’t know why he thought that.
“You know as well as I do,” she muttered. “I’m just not—well, last year, and the year before, it’s been the same act. Maybe we ought to change things up. What if—”
He put his head down and concentrated on the road beneath his hooves. He didn’t want to interrupt her when she was in a thinking mood.
“Dodge Junction isn’t all that big.”
That deserved a response. “No.”
“If we get it wrong, we’re not out much.”
“Not really. And we did okay in Appleoosa.”
“It’d give us a chance to practice before we hit some of the bigger towns.” She slowed, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. “We’ve got plenty of potions.”
“Yes.” He glanced over at her again. She had a small frown, not of displeasure, but of resignation. Of determination.
He had no idea what she was thinking, and that didn’t matter. She was the smart one, and she’d tell him when she’d turned it over in her mind. She’d think about the idea from all angles and he’d do what she wanted to because the whole thing had been her idea from the very beginning.
At first he’d been hesitant. He’d thought about it, any stallion in his position would have, but it wasn’t until she’d said how there was a need and how they were in a position to address it in a way that ponies weren’t.
The first year they’d only hit a couple of towns, and they’d worked on their show and she’d done most of the speaking because he wasn’t the smart one, but that had changed. She’d read the crowds and they wanted a confident stallion—or jack—to start things off.
“How much farther is Dodge Junction anyway?”
“Ten, fifteen miles. I don’t remember exactly. We’ll be there in time for dinner.” He kicked a rock off the path. “You need a rest? You hungry? I’ve got some oats in my saddlebag.”
“No, I was just wondering. You know, we could do a private showing.”
“You’ve never wanted to do that before.”
“I know, I was just thinking out loud.”
“If you think it’s the right thing to do.”
“We could hit some of the cities,” she said. “Canterlot, Manehattan, Fillydelphia.”
“Yeah.” There was a bit of dirt or something under the strap for his saddlebags and it was starting to irritate him. “There’d be competition.”
“Not like us.”
“No.” While there might be other donkeys, there wouldn’t be brother and sister acts. “We’ve never really brought that up, though.” It was time to be honest. “I don’t want to change the opening speech unless you really think we have to. Saying we’re siblings, that might cause problems.”
“But with a larger potential audience, it might attract a, um, a different clientele. And we could charge more. Since it’s unique.”
He nodded. She might be right about that.
“I don’t know. You’re right, maybe it’s a bad idea.”
“You’ve got your friend in Manehattan, what’s her name?”
“The waitress? Sweet Service?”
“Yeah, you could ask her.”
“I could. They’ve got telegrams in Dodge Junction.”
“Yes.”
“I’ll do that.”
“But we can’t until after we get to Ponyville, because if you’re right, we’ll need more potions.”
*****
The two donkeys were both coated with road dust and sweat, and Dodge Junction was a welcome sight.
Moke hung back as Jennet arranged for a room. He knew perfectly well how he looked to innkeepers, and it was no good for there to be a fuss. Better to remain outside on the porch, shifting idly on his hooves on the rough wooden planks. She had a way with words, which when accompanied with her exotic appearance tended to let her get her way.
And the innkeeper might have remembered her from last year. He remembered him coming up on stage.
*****
Dodge Junction lacked a spa, but the hotel made up for it with hot baths in the rooms. Admittedly, the tub was crowded with two, but not too crowded.
She was the smart one, but he was the sensual one and he took the lead in the bath, cleaning the road dust off her coat and out of her mane, lathering and rinsing and conditioning and rinsing again and getting that spot behind her ears that always made her moan in pleasure whenever he touched it with his muzzle.
The water had cooled before she had finished washing him.
He pulled the stopper and the two of them huddled together shivering as the water gurgled down the drain and then as they waited for the tub to refill with fresh, hot water.
They stayed in the bath until that water also began to cool, then dried each other off.
“If you’re going to tell me,” Moke said.
“Of course.” She nuzzled his neck. “Of course I was.”
“You’re nervous.”
“Well—”
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” Those were dangerous words, but he spoke them just the same.
“I thought about it all day.”
She had; their journey had been largely devoid of their usual smalltalk.
“It’s not like we’ve never done it before,” she said. “Just not in front of an audience.”
For a moment, he couldn’t think of what they hadn’t done in front of an audience, and then he nodded slowly. “Are you sure?”
“It’ll give them more to look at, and isn’t that what we want? Isn’t that what they want?”
“Nice ponies don’t—”
“Nice ponies don’t fuck their sisters.” She touched a hoof to his muzzle. “Now, let’s practice.”
Donkey Show
He was alone on stage. She had her place and he had his.
Once the crowd was seated, he began speaking, the familiar words of the opening speech rolling off his tongue. He could give that speech in his sleep, and maybe he did. Jennet said that sometimes he talked in his sleep but she never told him what he said.
He didn’t have to think about what he was saying. Instead, Moke looked over the crowd, wondering, trying to put himself in their minds, trying to imagine what they were thinking as he spoke. That was something he’d never been good at, something he’d never needed to be good at. She was just offstage, she was watching, and later they’d discuss it.
Towards the front sat a cluster of wide-eyed mares. They’d’ve worked up their courage together, no doubt over drinks. Two of them were whispering into each other’s ears, while another was trying to keep her eyes averted but failing.
Further back, so not to appear desperate, a few spinsters; their eyes were not on his face. He might not be as good as his sister at showing the right thing at the right time but he wasn’t making any attempt to hide his arousal. That was what they’d come to see, and that was what they were going to see.
A stallion with a furious blush on his cheeks, and Jennet hadn’t even come on stage yet.
Tomorrow, most of them wouldn’t remember his words and it was better that way.
He kept his eyes focused on the crowd while he listened for familiar hoofsteps across the stage and his mind was on last night, on this morning, and on what was to come, and then she was right beside him, the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils. He momentarily fumbled his words as she brushed a hoof down his belly and against his throbbing cock, shifting on his hooves to give herself unfettered access and reveal himself more fully.
As always, the audience tensed as she leaned down and brought her mouth close. This was the point where lovers moved closer together and teenage stallions tried to cover their own erections, and she always gave them that time.
She never put him in her mouth before he finished speaking, and this time was no exception.
When she did, it was past time for words.
She was the smart one and while she didn’t give the opening speech, her mouth was talented in its own way. He closed his eyes and focused on the blowjob—this was a moment for them, not for the audience.
Jennet liked to dip down most of the way to his medial ring right away and then back off, going further down each time, and when her lips finally crossed his ring, she’d bury her face right against the lips of his shaft. Every time, without fail, somepony in the audience would gasp.
One show in Canter Creek, an older mare had fainted.
*****
She pulled away, letting his dick slip slowly out of her mouth as she turned her rump towards the crowd. Her tongue maintained contact for just a moment, trailing across his head in full view of the audience.
He let them watch as she presented herself to the audience: that was a moment for them. That was a moment for the stallions and some of the mares.
Mares were always a point of contention. Jennet just didn’t swing that way, although it was hard to say no to bits, and it was hard to say no to audience enthusiasm so she went along anyway and usually complained afterwards and he never admitted to her how hot it was to watch a mare under his sister’s tail.
Besides, even if she claimed she didn’t like it as much as a stallion, he’d watched more than one mare bring her to climax.
The audience was shifting on their seats, waiting for the show to continue, so he turned his own hindquarters to the crowd and mounted his sister, his dick pushing against the tight ring of her anus.
They didn’t see at first, not until he pushed forward, hilting himself inside her.
He wasn’t the smart one, but even he knew that some ponies might hesitate to come up on stage now, might wonder what they were about to get into. But lust was a powerful motivator, and it wasn’t like there weren’t mares or stallions that liked it in the butt.
Timing was important: too long and he’d cum, that was just a fact. That led to delays as he was getting hard again.
Not long enough and the audience wouldn’t be as interested.
One of the spinsters, or one of the youngsters? Once upon a time he’d studied the crowd and tried to guess who the first mare to get up and make her way to the stage would be.
He was usually wrong.
Jennet liked having her ears bitten and that was something that the audience liked, too, so he nibbled at her ear as he thrusted, and then he pulled out and she lowered her head and took himself into her mouth again, licking his shaft clean.
He was ready as the first mare approached him, one of the young mares from the group at the front. He kept his eyes on her friends as he mounted her, watched as one of them raised a hoof to her mouth when his well-lubricated shaft slipped into her friend, easily burying himself to his medial ring.
She was tense, inexperienced; he was her first stallion. He didn’t need to ask, he knew, so he whispered words of encouragement in her ear as he thrust, and he moved just a bit clockwise so her friends would get a good view, one that they could remember as they were with a stallion or a mare or alone in their room with just a hoof.
Across the stage, a stallion was mounting Jennet, and a brief cheer erupted from his friends as he entered her, with a bit of guidance from her.
I love you, she mouthed as the stallion hilted himself, and he mouthed the words back and concentrated on making his mare’s first time memorable.
All too soon, she clenched and he could have pulled out, could have moved on to the next mare who was waiting patiently at the steps for her turn, but first times should always be special, especially in front of friends. He gave her her moment and right at the height of her climax bit her on the neck and thrust in again, offering her a second orgasm right on the heels of the first.
A small smile of satisfaction played over his face as one of her friends pulled her hoof away from her cunt and made her way to the line at the edge of the stage.
*****
The next few hours passed in a blur.
He came inside a few mares, and one stallion’s mouth: Jennet might complain about mares, but he wasn’t so petty when it came to stallions.
There was no shame in a potion or two to keep him going. They were there to serve the audience.
Nor was it a problem that a few couples came to stage to show their commitment to each other on the side. That was always fun to watch, even if there was the risk that they might be upstaged by a pair of locals consummating their relationship in front of everypony in the audience. That was what they were doing this for, and eleven months in the future there might be a new colt or filly who’d been conceived on the stage.
Maybe one day in the future, that very colt or filly would be in the audience, might take his or her place on the stage.
There was no shame in a potion or two to work his way through the crowd and it was very late in the night as he mounted the last spinster who had been taken by the moment or by desperation; he thrust inside her and glanced over the now-diminished crowd.
The scents of arousal and of sex hung heavily over the thinning crowd, and even with the potions he’d grown numb to sex once again. Jennet had it easy; she only had to stand there and offer herself up to stallions and the occasional mare, while he had to keep himself hard as long as he could.
There was no need for a second speech; he could have said something but nopony would have paid any attention to it.
He brought himself right to the edge and pulled out, his dick throbbing and demanding release and would it be the spinster or Jennet which offered it?
The mare was practically helpless, lying on her belly, shivering from her last orgasm, so he turned to his sister, always there for him, one last treat for the audience as she licked the foreign marecum off his shaft, putting him in her mouth until he clenched and then she let him cum all over her face.
The remaining audience mustered a ragged cheer as the two of them kissed and walked off the stage together.
Donkey Fic
Dodge Junction lacked a spa, but the hotel made up for it with hot baths.
It was her turn to serve him; potions or not, he was exhausted after a show, both emotionally and physically. He drooped in the tub as the water rose, resting his chin on the edge to keep from drowning.
She was bright-eyed and alert, something he’d always envied. Sex tired him out, while it woke her up.
“Not right now,” he muttered as he hoof ran lovingly against his sheath.
“You know you want to,” she whispered. “I saw the look in your eyes as that stallion was drilling me.”
“Which one?”
“The unicorn with the green coat.”
“Oh, yeah.” He had watched; he always watched. He’d been balls-deep in the first mare’s friend—she’d been experienced but not skilled. He’d taken pride in the knowledge that he’d been her best; hopefully her next stallionfriend would care more about her pleasure than his.
He was tired, emotionally and physically, but her hoof was compelling. “Don’t.”
“Or what?” Her eyes sparkled.
“Or I’ll turn my back on you later.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Try me and find out.”
“Mmh.” She nuzzled him. “You wouldn't dare.”
“We can’t afford to be using potions for our own pleasure.”
“I guess not.”
She rested her head against his, and he turned to kiss her.
“I gotta clean you.” Her hoof moved against him again, brushing his length.
“Before I get dirty again?”
“Go on and think that.”
“Don’t even try and play hard-to-get. I know you.”
Jennet sighed. “A dozen stallions—”
“A dozen?”
“—give or take, and none of them were you .”
“Not even the green one?”
“He came close,” she admitted. “Maybe if he’d had a bigger dick.”
“How many mares?” He knew the answer to that; he wasn’t the smart one but even he could count.
“Just one this time.” Her hoof stopped. “I thought she was going to go to you.”
He’d thought the same.
“If we did private sessions, we could—”
“I know.” He yawned. “Did you telegram your friend?”
“Haven’t heard back yet.” Her eyes grew distant. “Imagine private shows, we’d have more control.”
“You might miss your green stallion, though.” He stood up, his erection just touching the water. “That’d be a shame.”
“Maybe.” She licked her lips and bent her head down, brushing her muzzle against his cock. “I’d miss the variety, not gonna deny it.”
“Might get stuck with a bunch of noblestallions who think more of themselves than they ought.”
“That could happen.” She kissed his stallionhood. “But I wouldn’t care, and you know why?”
“Because no matter how disappointing they are, we’ve still got each other?”
She took him into her mouth, which was answer enough.
