Tending Her Garden

You drag your rake through another patch of soil. This is the very definition of tedious.

When you agreed to help Carrot Top with her vegetable garden, you didn’t expect it to be the most grueling, monotonous physical labour ever.

You put your rake down and take a break. You look over to Carrot Top, who has a nice straw sun-hat on. She looks over and notices you’ve stopped gardening.

“Is that it for today?” she asks.

“I’m getting kind of tired… this is hard work. I’ve never done gardening before,” you reply.

You feel pretty lame about your pitiful first attempt at gardening, especially when you notice Carrot Top has expertly finished raking the entire other side of the garden in about half the time it’s taken you to even pick up your rake.

“You didn’t do badly for a first try,” she says. You smile at her.

“Hey,” the orange mare says, “wanna come inside and cool off?”

“Sure,” you reply. You follow Carrot Top into her house. She removes her sunhat and tosses it into a wardrobe. She motions with her hoof to the sofa.

“You can sit there while I get us some drinks.”

You follow her instructions and sit on her sofa. She soon walks into the room with 2 glasses filled with some kind of beverage. She hands you a glass and takes the other for herself and sits next to you on the sofa.

You sip your drink. It seems to be alcoholic.

Carrot Top starts to speak. “So, I was wondering…”

“Hm?” you reply.

“Why did you volunteer to help me tend my garden? I mean, no offence, but you don’t seem like the kind of person who’s, uh, suited to hard physical work. And you said you’d never done gardening before.”

You blush slightly and hope she doesn’t notice. The reason you volunteered to help Carrot Top with her gardening was to get a chance to spend time with the orange pony. You’d only seen her around in Ponyville sometimes, but she’d caught your eye and you thought that volunteering to work for her might be a good chance to get to know her and become friends.

“Uh, well, you know, I wanted to find new challenges. In, uh, gardening. Yeah, that’s it,” you say.

Carrot Top laughs a little. “You’re the worst liar ever. But okay, if you say so.”

The night continues about as well as you could have expected it to. You manage to have a lengthy conversation with her without saying anything stupid. Eventually, you casually mention that, being unused to hard physical work, your muscles are aching from spending all day gardening.

“Oh, did you need a massage?” Carrot Top asks.

You immediately have a slight internal freak out. A gorgeous mare is offering to give you a massage.

“W-wha? Uhh…” you appear to have forgotten how to speak.

Carrot Top laughs, but not in a mocking way – in a strangely comforting way. “Just lay down on your stomach,” she says.

You lay down on the sofa on your front. You remain facing forwards so you cannot see Carrot Top, but you feel her but her hind legs on either side of your hips and sit on the end of your back.

oh god oh god oh god oh god

You feel her lean forward and place her hooves firmly on your shoulders.

oh god oh god oh g-

“Um… the massage isn’t really going to work if you tense up at my touch. It’s meant to do the exact opposite of that,” laughs Carrot Top.

“Right… sorry,” you say.

You desperately try to relax despite the tension of the situation (which, apparently, is exclusive to you – Carrot Top seems as calm as ever).

You feel Carrot’s hooves rubbing your shoulders in slow, firm circles. The tension in your muscles seems to work away at her touch. She moves her hooves down your back in a rubbing motion. The only thing you can even begin to describe as feeling similar to this is getting into a hot bath, although this is many times better – perhaps due to the lovely mare administering the massage.

She moves down to massage your hind legs, where the majority of the aching in your muscles is. Your muscles immediately relax at the soothing stroking of her hooves.

“There we go,” she says softly. “How’s that?”

You mutter something unintelligible in response. You’re too relaxed to form a proper sentence.

She laughs softly and flips you over to start massaging the front of your body…

…and stops suddenly after flipping you over, staring down in horror.

“What’s wrong?” you manage to say. She doesn’t reply.

You look at her eyes, which are filled with an expression of horror. You follow her gaze down to your cock.

Your throbbing, rock-hard cock.

“Oh my god!” she screams. “Why is that like that? That shouldn’t be like that!”

“I… I…” you mindlessly stammer like an idiot instead of apologizing or trying to give an explanation.

“Oh god, I just wanted to give you a massage! I didn’t want that to happen! What kind of twisted maniac are you that you get a boner just from people stroking your back?!” she continues her frantic tirade.

“Uh, well, I…” you begin another stuttering fit, but she cuts you off.

“How could you do that?! Why would you do that?! WHY?! It was just a massage!” she continues.

“Uh… it wasn’t because of you!” you blurt out. “It’s just a coincidence!”

She stares at you in disbelief, shaking slightly.

“I mean, I, uh, was, uh, just thinking about porn!” You immediately want to bite your tongue out because of your utterly shitty excuse.

“You were thinking about sex while I massaged you! Oh my god! Oh GOD!” Carrot screams, seemingly getting even more agitated as if that were possible.

“It’s like you molested me!! Why would you do that?! You molested me!” she screams.

“What? How did I molest you? I just stayed still…” you meekly point out.

“BECAUSE I WAS MASSAGING YOU AND YOU GOT A ROCK-ON!!!” she screams. “Oh god!”

You begin to slowly back away from the room. Carrot continues running back and forth in circles around the room, screaming “oh god oh god oh god” on a seemingly endless loop.

You wake up the next morning in your nice, soft bed. You enjoy the few seconds of blissful tiredness right after waking up before your brain activates and the memories of the pathetic tragedy that is your entire life come crashing down onto you.

You remember the incident with Carrot Top from last night. You make a mental note to never ever go anywhere near her house or anywhere she might ever be anywhere near, ever again.

You start walking down the stairs but inexplicably trip and manage to crash down the final 3 steps, smashing your snout firmly into the sharp corner of a wooden table.

“Oww…”

You’re about to sit down for breakfast when you hear a knock at the door. You trot over and open it.

“Uh, hey, can I help you?” you ask to the two royal guard who have suddenly appeared at your doorstep.

“We had a report that you raped a woman by the name of Carrot Top last night…”

Oh, for crying out loud.