Chapters Author's Note
Before we get started I just want to say that the punching stuff is probably a bad idea, and you shouldn't try it IRL. I'm a huge masochist, and it seems hot to me, but... yeah, if you're not an Equestrian pony and basically made of silicone and super-tough rubber, you could get hurt really bad that way.
1
Butterscotch held up the little scrap of fabric and tilted it left and right, trying to make sense of it. “What is it?”
“It’s a skirt. Happy anniversary, buddy,” said Rainbow Blitz.
Scotch frowned, perplexed. “It’s a skirt for Lilith,” he said, measuring the waist with this hoof. “If I’m going to wear this little, why wear anything at all? Also, I don’t want to be rude but I’m not your buddy, I’m your husband.”
Blitz waved his hooves in the air, dismissing Scotch’s concerns. “Whatever. Try it on.”
Butterscotch ducked his head. “I know it might seem minor to you, but I worry you’re not committed to our marriage and…”
Blitz grinned and nudged Scotch in the shoulder. “I’m committed to your ass, buddy, and I want to see it in that skirt. C’mon, try it on!”
The two of them were lounging on the sofa in Scotch’s living room. This was how Scotch wanted to celebrate their anniversary. This was how Scotch wanted to celebrate every special occasion from Hearth’s Warming to national emergencies: locked inside his house, surrounded by dogs that would bark if a leaf hit the ground too hard outside, with Harriet the bear on hand if any monsters or salesponies came by.
“This is silly,” said Scotch, starting to put the tiny skirt on the coffee table. “Also maybe you didn’t hear me when I said no presents?”
“Pleeease,” whined Blitz, sitting up and waving both hooves in front of his chest in a begging gesture. His wings unfurled halfway, and his cocked nudged out of its sheath. Scotch bit his lower lip, thinking about how that shaft would feel inside of him.
“I don’t know,” said Scotch. “I didn’t buy you a present.” But he did like making Blitz happy.
“My present is seeing you in it,” said Blitz. More begging hooves.
Lilith, who was sitting on the back of the sofa, socked Scotch in the shoulder and pointed a bunny paw at the skirt. She mimed pulling it over her hips, wiggled her little round white rump at them and then pointed at Scotch. Then she gave Scotch bedroom eyes and stamped on the back of the couch for emphasis.
“We can’t Lilith. I’ve told you, you’re too small. And if you like the skirt so much, then you put it on!” said Scotch, holding the skirt up towards Lilith. In spite of what Scotch had said earlier, it was in fact as large as her entire body. She glared at him over the waistband.
Scotch blushed. “Okay, okay, it’s not that small. I guess I’ll try it on.” He lifted his hind hooves and pulled the skirt over them. The waist was very narrow, and Scotch had to wiggle his hips around to get it over his long thick thighs and his round little ass. Still, it fit his middle very well, and when he had it on, he felt… maybe a little bit sexy. Extremely silly, but also sexy.
“Well?” said Blitz, eyes lingering on Scotch’s lower body. “Don’t be shy. Model it for us.” Lilith nodded, rubbing her front paws together.
“Fine, fine.” Scotch shooed the dogs out of the way and pranced in a circle around the coffee table. “Do you like it? Does it make my butt look big? I feel like it makes my butt look big.”
“Yes. Yes, it does make your butt look big,” growled Blitz, grinning like a hungry timber wolf. Blitz’s long slim cock slid the rest of the way out of his sheath and stiffened until it bobbed back and forth in front of his lean blue chest.
Scotch blinked. “Do I really look that good?”
Blitz nodded, stroking the underside of his cock with one hoof. On the back of the couch, Lilith wolf-whistled and fanned herself.
Scotch craned his neck to look at his butt. He walked in a circle, trying to get a better view. He could see the shiny green pleated skirt resting on his croup, lifted by the dock of his tail. He could see the wing of one butterfly peeking out from the edge of the skirt. He would never, ever go out of the house looking like this, but… wow, his ass looked good in it. His shaft went from nestled in his sheath to poking out from between his forelegs in a single heartbeat.
“Okay, this is a good present,” Scotch said, pushing away the dogs who had come over to sniff at his erection.
“Let’s go upstairs and put your makeup on, buddy,” said Blitz, flapping over and giving Scotch’s mane a playful tug.
“Okay. Hubby, not buddy, though. If that’s okay with you. I don’t want to keep harping on this, but…”
Bitz ignored him, scooped him up in his forelegs, and zoomed upstairs to the bedroom.
Scotch sat in front of the full-length mirror while Blitz slammed around in the bathroom getting the makeup things. He puffed out his chest, tossed his mane so his forelock covered one eye, and gave his best attempt at a smoldering gaze. Such passion. Such beauty. Scotch knew it was vain, and he would never admit it to anyone, even Blitz, but he loved to look at himself. He flicked his large fluffy ears and brushed his soft pink bangs out of his eyes. He tried different poses — dashing! Thoughtful! Elegant! Slutty! Oh, slutty was a good one. Scotch bit his lower lip. Was this beautiful creature really him? He didn’t feel that beautiful when he was out walking around.
“Enjoying the show?” said Blitz, flapping over clutching the makeup things to his chest.
Scotch squeaked and jumped in alarm, mantling his wings defensively. “Um… I wasn’t looking at myself. I swear. I’m sorry.”
Blitz landed next to Scotch and set the makeup things down on the floor. “It’s okay. You’re a pretty stallion, but I’m going to make you a pretty mare. Then we can fuck in front of the mirror if you want. Now close your eyes.”
Scotch shivered as Blitz caressed the eyeshadow brush over his eyelids. He fluttered them open and looked sideways so he could watch while Blitz did his lashes. “So you’re going to be my stallion?”
Blitz shrugged, and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Gender roles are stupid. I could put makeup on me, too, and we could both be mares.”
Scotch giggled. “I know you hate that girly stuff, don’t be silly.”
“Think ponies might think I’m bi?” said Blitz, pursing his lips to consider his work so far.
“Mmmm, they might guess it no matter what you’re wearing. Is that why you don’t like to call me your husband? Because you don’t want ponies to think you’re gay?”
“Everypony knows I’m bi, Scotch. I was being sarcastic.”
“But you married a stallion. That’s pretty gay, Blitz. That’s as gay as you can get, if you don’t mind my saying.”
Blitz scowled. “That doesn’t make me gay. I still like both.”
Scotch batted his eyelashes at Blitz. “I know that. But not everypony knows that. Are you okay with ponies assuming you’re gay?”
Blitz socked Scotch in the shoulder. “Hey, I’m the roughest, toughest little fifty-pound pegasus there is.”
“And you make sure everypony knows it,” said Scotch, reaching out to caress Blitz’s chest floof.
“Mouth closed, Butterslut. I wanna do your lipstick.”
Scotch made a moue with his lips and closed his eyes. The hard little shaft of the lipstick caressed his lips.
“Don’t you think it’s a little heavy?” said Scotch, eyeing himself in the mirror as Blitz capped the lipstick and put it away.
“I want you to look like the whore you are inside. I need to do your blush now. Easy way or hard way?”
Scotch’s cheeks flushed all on their own. “Hard way, please,” said Scotch. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
Blitz smirked. “There’s no shame in asking for the rough treatment.” And he slapped Scotch across the right cheek so hard the noise set the dogs barking downstairs.
Scotch shuddered, already feeling the horseshoe-shaped welt rising on his left cheek. “Ow, ow, ow!” he moaned.
Blitz bit his lower lip. “You okay, buddy?”
Scotch looked up from under his bangs at Blitz. “Hubby. And I don’t mean to be rude? But if you’re going to go around giving little sissy slaps like that then everypony is gonna know you’re gay.”
Blitz’s lips rolled back from his teeth. “Why you little…” and he hauled off and backhoofed Scotch across the right cheek. The sharp pain of the slap and the dull pain of the impact with his facial bones echoed through Scotch’s body and made his cock pulse with desire.
“Oh, harmony,” he groaned. He felt tears trickle down his cheeks, making his mascara run. There was dampness on the upper lip, too.
“Oh, shit, I made your nose bleed!” Blitz took Scotch’s jaw in his hooves.
“Kiss me. Please,” moaned Scotch.
Blitz ran his tongue over Scotch’s painted lips, then drove it inside. Scotch tasted copper on his husband’s tongue. Their hooves caressed each other's bodies for a few moments, but Blitzie was an impatient pony. All it took was Scotch’s hoof brushing his dick once, and Blitz broke the kiss and kicked up into the air.
Blitzie’s favorite oral sex position was what he termed the ‘flying fuck’. Long soaring wings flapping, he could hover indefinitely with his dick hanging in front of Scotch’s face. Scotch couldn’t stay airborne for anything like so long — pegasus magic or not, he didn’t have the muscle tone for it. But Scotch knew his role, and he slid his hooves up the back of Blitzie’s thighs to his steel-hard little cupcake ass cheeks. Blitz hooked his hind legs over Scotch’s shoulders, grabbed him by the ears with his forehooves, and thrust his dick into Scotch’s mouth.
Blitz was not a gentle lover.
Scotch thought of him as having a ‘narrow’ cock because some of their other playmates, notably Dusk and Applejack (and also, of course, Scotch himself) were thicker than the average pony’s hoof, but the two of them had had enough erotic adventures with other couples for Scotch to know that he was average for a stallion. Now that thick flare trampled over Scotch’s tongue and drove straight for the back of his throat. Scotch loosened his jaw and made himself ready, tensing as the cock that had destroyed what little gag reflex he had ever had rammed into his face.
“Oh, you disgusting little slut. Your face cunt’s so tight!” Blitz slammed his hips forward, pounding inch after inch of smooth, pretty blue cock into Scotch’s mouth. His neck ached with the hammering impact, as did his battered cheeks. Did he have any of Punda’s healing potions left? He’d need to stock up soon; the last thing he needed was ponies asking him if he felt safe at home. He didn’t want them distracted from ponies whose partners were abusive all the time, and not just sometimes, for fun.
A yellow and blue blur in the corner of Scotch’s vision distracted him from his shopping list. The mirror! Of course! He rolled his eyes to one side. There he was, kneeling on his hocks, his husband draped over his face. Blitz’s cock pistoned in and out of his mouth, glistening with spit and something red — lipstick, blood, or both — going deeper every time.
“Eyes up here, slut,” said Blitz, tapping him on the right cheek. Mean Blitzie! Scotch kept looking.
Blitz grabbed Scotch by the mane with both hooves and jammed his medial ring past Scotch’s lips. He gave six more rapid thrusts until his balls rested on Scotch’s chin. Blitz held him there, shivering with pleasure, wiry thighs squeezing Scotch’s sore cheeks. Scotch decided it might be safe to take a peek at the mirror again.
He couldn’t get a good view of his mouth! Scotch’s thighs blocked the view! But he could see a lot of other things. Blitz’s eyes were closed, his mouth open, his head thrown back in erotic bliss. His lean body gyrated on top of Scotches face, ass and thigh muscles moving under his glossy blue coat. And Scotch himself? He was a mess. Mane limp and sweaty. Chest flecked with spit and tiny drops of blood. The only thing that would bake it hotter was some cum. And from the way Blitzie’s hips were shaking that was almost…
Between blinks, Blitz jumped off of Scotch and flew around in circles, huffing and red-faced. His long wet dick bobbed back and forth with the beat of his wings.
“What’s happening?” said Scotch, voice hoarse from throat fucking. He felt empty inside. He wanted his husband’s dick in him again.
“I wanna cum in your face! But if I cum in your face, I won’t be able to see that sweet little skirt I got you framing your gorgeous cheeks while I fuck you up the ass.”
Scotch struggled with this concept for a moment, but it was true. Blitz typically fell asleep for hours after sex, so they’d have one shot at this until, like, mid-afternoon. He rose to all fours, turned around, and flipped his tail up over his back. “Okay. Then fuck me up the ass. But can I please watch in the mirror? Pretty please?”
After some experimentation, they found that by lying Scotch on his side in front of the mirror with his back facing it, he could crane his neck well enough to get a good look at what Blitz was doing to him.
Scotch held his breath as Blitz worked his square muzzle in between his cheeks and under the hem of that slutty little skirt. Blitz’s tongue ran over his balls, slowly soaking the tight yellow skin of his sack. He sucked one big ball into his mouth and rolled it around in there as he uncapped the bottle of lube. Scotch’s heartbeat quickened.
The lube was Dusk Shine’s special formula, concocted for the needs of a group of friends who all liked getting it up the ass as much as they liked giving it. Scotch shivered and arched his back into the air as Blitz rubbed at his tight little ponut, soaking it with so much lube that the goo trickled down his ass cheeks and over his balls. Then Blitz dipped his whole hoof in the jar and pushed it gently against Scotch’s asshole.
“Oh Blitz,” Scotch groaned, bearing down and opening himself for Blitz. “Harder.”
“Easy,” said Blitz. “I don’t wanna hurt you, buddy.”
Scotch pouted. “Why not? Isn’t your husband a dirty enough slut? Don’t I deserve the punishment?” He looked at Scotch in the mirror, batted his eyelashes, and gave him his best sullen pout.
Blitz scowled and jammed his hoof all at once in up to the fetlock. Scotch yelped, his asshole instinctively clenching down, warm and tight, around his husband’s hoof. “Happy?” said Blitz, meeting Scotch’s eyes in the mirror and smirking.
“It’s okay for now,” said Scotch in a sing-song voice, arching his back and pressing his round ass back against Blitz’s hoof. “I mean, if that’s the best you can do.”
Blitz popped his hoof in and out of Scotch’s asshole, pushing in hard, then pulling back until it popped free. Scotch watched in the mirror, fascinated, as his ponut distended, hugging Blitz’s hoof until before jiggling back into shape like slapped jello.
“Not enough! The whole thing! Up to the elbow!” moaned Scotch. “No! Give me both legs! Please! If it’s okay with you? I don’t want to impose.”
Blitz twisted his hoof inside Scotch, hooked it, then yanked it free. Scotch gasped in delicious agony at the cruel gesture, then moaned in disappointment when Blitz didn’t ram it back into him again.. “Double hoofing’s all fine and good for you, but you’re my slut, and I wanna have my fun, too. It’s mister dick for you. And if you want to be filled at all, you’d better beg for it.”
“Ooooh,” purred Scotch. “Yes, pretty please.”
Blitz smacked Scotch across the back of the head. “What is this, fucking tea time?”
“The way you’re hoofing my ass, it feels like it is. ’Yes, Blitzie, I would love more little cucumber sandwiches with the crusts cut off and could you please be a more gentle, I can almost feel what you’re doing to me.’” He waggled his ass tauntingly at Scotch, tail wagging back and forth like a flag.
Blitz snorted, tilted his head back, and looked down his snout with an exaggerated expression of disgust. He held the hoof he’d been brutalizing Scotch’s ass with up to his nose and gave it a long sniff. “Damn, that stinks.”
“Um, no”, said Scotch. “I’m pretty sure my ass smells like roses.”
Blitz slammed his clean hoof down on Scotch’s ear, slamming his head against the tangle of branches that made up the bedroom floor. “Ow! No! Stop!” Scotch squealed, not meaning it. But Blitz was far from done handing out indignities. He slammed his other forehoof down against the floor, so close to Scotch’s snout that he flinched. A sour, bitter reek filled his snout. “Really? Does that smell like roses?”
Scotch squeaked. “No. No. Actually, that smells really awful. I’m sorry. I showered and did an enema this morning and everything.”
“Are you sure it smells bad?” said Blitz, grinding his hoof against Scotch’s nose. “Take a good long sniff to be sure.”
“No! I’m fine! I’m fine!” squawked Scotch.
“Smell it.”
Scotch flared his nostrils and inhaled. The sewer reek made him gag and coughed. Blitz laughed. “Yeah, I’m gonna be putting my dick in there, so keep in mind what I’m doing for you, and show a little god damn gratitude, you disgusting little cunt.”
“Yes sir,” squeaked Scotch. His skull ached where Blitz was pushing it down into the floorboards.
“That’s more like it,” said Blitz, shifting on top of him. Scotch’s ponut was still gaping from the hoofing, so Blitz slide in up to the medial ring with ease. “Oh, I love your tight, silky little ass, Butterslut. Make some noise for me. Tell me how much you love having my dick up your butt.”
Scotch felt his cheeks color. He hadn’t been making any noises but soft little squeaks, again, hadn’t he? Blitz hated that, he preferred screaming and hollering, loss of control. “Um, yay?”
Blitz pushed the dirty hoof against Scotch’s nose again.
Scotch yelped. “Blitzie I love you! You’re so big, and mean, and strong!”
Blitz laughed. “That’s more like it. Big, huh? What’s big about me? I’m little and short.”
“Your… um… your dick is big. It’s really long,” mumbled Scotch.
“Not as long as yours,” said Blitz, sounding a little sad.
“I don’t have a dick,” said Scotch. “My crotch is blank like a toy’s. I’m just your little anal and oral whore. I can’t even come, you know? It’s all about Blitzie and Blitzie’s dick.”
Blitz chuckled. “Thanks, buddy. Actually, that sounds hot. We could get Eris to help us with that.”
Scotch’s heart, previously frantic, froze. “Um…” Did he really want that? Eris could put his junk back when they were done. If she remembered.
Blitz ruffled Scotch’s mane. “I’m kidding. I love your dick, too. Even if it’s bigger than mine.” He nudged his cock forward. Scotch’s ponut had contracted, nestling in around his husband’s dick. Blitz rustled around on the floor behind them, and Scotch felt the tickly chill of fresh lube being poured on his ponut. “You want hard and fast?”
“If… oh… if it isn’t too much trouble,” Scotch whimpered. “ I want you to rearrange my guts for me. If that’s okay?”
“I don’t know,” said Blitz. “That’s asking a lot. If you beg like the filthy little anal slut you are I might consider it.” He pulled back so that his flare what the only thing inside Scotch’s body. His flare had spread while he was in there, and it pulled back on Scotch’s ponut, too wide to get out again without a concerted effort.
Scotch craned his neck to look in the mirror. He wanted a nice look at his ass with a dick in it before the brutal pounding he hoped was coming distracted him. The green skirt draped over the curves of his plump little cheeks, it’s sharp pleats accentuating their roundness. Blitz’s long, slim cock looked colossal buried in his fat little ass, the veiny blue shaft distending Scotch’s ponut to a thin yellow ring.
“Please!” crooned Scotch. “Oh, please! I want you to destroy my ass! I want to be walking funny for days! I want to feel a Blitzie’s-dick-shaped hollow in my tummy when you’re done. I want it please, please, please!”
Blitz stroked Scotch’s mane, pushing the bangs away from his eyes. “Okay. You asked for it.” He pulled one of Scotch’s legs up into the air and wrapped his forelegs around it, and jerked Scotch back hard.
The thickness of Blitz’s medial ring pressed against his ponut. Scotch bore down, opening his ass for his husband. Blitz gasped in pleasure, grinding his hips against Scotch’s ass. His balls rubbed against Scotch’s, the mix of lube and spit coating Scotch’s balls squelching between them. His husband’s long blue dick probed deep into him, rubbing against everything inside of him — battered guts, aching anal muscle, and that one wonderful spot behind his balls. Burning pleasure started to build in the depths of his belly, growing with Blitz’s every motion.
“Fuckin’ Harmony, you’re tight though. C’mon you, little whore. Cum for me,” growled Blitz.
“Don’t… don’t blaspheme,” muttered Scotch.
“Harmony can lick my balls,” purred Blitz. “If you don’t satisfy me, I’ll go fuck it up the ass next.”
Scotch’s heart rate quickened. Blitz knew how much it bothered him when he said awful things like that! He almost called safeword for the sake of Blitz’s soul but… oh, his ponut hurt so good. “You can’t fuck Harmony up the ass! It’s a spiritual force, not a… OH!”
Apparently, blasphemy was a big turn on for Blitz, because he started ramming his long dick into Scotch like a horny puppy humping a pillow. Every thrust knocked the breath out of Scotch’s lungs and pushed Scotch a little way across the floor.
Scotch looked at himself in the mirror. His face looked bruised, his makeup smeared. The Skirt had flipped up over his back. His ass cheeks jiggled, ripples going through the juicy flesh every time Blitz slammed into it.
The burning in Scotch’s belly grew and grey. Blitz’s cock was rubbing his special place very hard. Scotch hoped he didn’t cum before Blitz did — Then he’d be less horny and way less excited about having his ass ruthlessly reamed and Blitz might have to pull out and it would be less fun for Blitz and…
“Ah! Slut! Gonna cum in your ass! Get ready!”
A shiver passed through Scotch’s body. He felt Blitz’s rhythm getting ragged, his gasps deeper and louder. The heat built in Scotch’s own balls but he held back, biting his lip, trying to keep from cumming until…
Above him, Blitz squealed. He always screamed like a little filly when he came. That long blue dick pulsed inside of him. Scotch felt his insides filling, thick creamy pegasus cum pumping into him, distending his slim little tummy. The burning in his tummy became overwhelming, unbearable, beyond sensation. With a strangled gasp, Scotch let himself cum. His whole body shook, a wave of pure bliss shivering through his muscles. His balls tightened, and his cock began to pulse. He looked down so that he could watch streams of white shooting out of his distended yellow flare to glisten in puddles on the tangled wood of the floor.
Blitz let go of Scotch’s leg and slumped down on top of his body. The only sound was their breathing, and the soft noise of a rabbit doe up in the rathers munching popcorn.
“Lick it up,” purred Blitz.
Scotch moaned and buried his snout up to his nostrils in his own jizz. He pursed his lips and sucked it up with an audible slurp, filling his face until his cheeks bulged. Then he craned his neck and let Blitz lick the thick, musty, herbal-tasting goo of off his tongue.
“Oh Harmony damn that was hot,” said Blitz, once he had swallowed.
“Please don’t blaspheme,” muttered Scotch. “I love you though.”
Blitz slouched on Scotch’s back, too tired to try to wriggle out of his husband’s tight ass. “I love you too, hubby.”
Scotch’s eyes widened. “You said it! You said the word!”
“I didn’t say shit,” said Blitz, smirking. “Happy anniversary.”
