I Shit On Your Grave

by Dr Sharaz Jek

Rating: mature
Tags: Profanity, Gore, Violence, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Death, Sad, Porn, Fetish, Non-consensual, Pinkie Pie, Sex
Length: 1442

Rarity continues to recover from her assault, while a number of killings spread across Ponyville, putting Pinkie Pie on edge.

A series of gruesome murders are underway in Ponyville. Pinkie Pie decides to pay Rarity a visit at the hospital, who is still recovering after a stallion assaulted her, but what will become of Pinkie when she falls prey to the same assailant?

Not a scat fic! Title is based on the old exploitation movie I Spit On Your Grave/Day of the Woman!

Published 2019-08-08 02:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-08-08 02:30:02 UTC

Only Chapter

The pony was so hacked to pieces it was difficult to determine even its gender. Guts were splattered across the alleyway, mixing with the graffiti and grime, blood having run between the brickwork and now caked into place after it dried. It was difficult for most ponies to believe such a horrific crime could have occurred in Ponyville. Worst of all was the overwhelming stench.

Nopony knew who'd committed the murder or why. Just that the perpetrator was still at large.

Samples were collected by the authorities for later study. The crimes were kept hushed up as much as possible, so as not to cause a panic, but information trickled out anyhow. More guards were set up around the town and few ponies dared travel after dark.

Tonight, Pinkie Pie paid one of her closest friends a visit at the local hospital before visiting hours ended.

“H-hello,” managed Rarity who slumped in her bed. It was a rare moment when she was lucid, her eyes sleepy. She looked around her at seemingly random intervals, like she'd randomly forget where she was. “Pinkie?”

“Yeah, it's me.” She nodded to Nurse Redheart who opened the door into the room and curled her lips into a sad smile as she quietly trotted in. Normally she'd be bouncing off the walls to fill a loved one with hopefully shared enthusiasm, but seeing the state of the fashionista broke her heart. She settled into a stool beside her and squeezed her forehoof. “I love you, Rarity.”

“Hmm? Oh yes, darling, of course I love you too.” It was barely a whisper, as Rarity's eyes settled on a potted plant positioned on the windowsill. She'd decorated it with some ribbons she tied in a fancy reminder, a reminder of a life she'd once had and now was lost. Staring at it, vaguely remembering the beautiful clothes she once crafted, she suddenly burst into tears.

“Rarity? It's okay!” Pinkie cried too, holding her friend who was shaking and sobbing. She tried to hold her friend down, who started shrieking and thrashing, flashing back to the horrific events that had all but destroyed her. She'd been hunted down by an unknown assailant, raped, and left there to stew in her own shame, blaming herself for what had occurred.

“Try to keep her still.” Redheart prepared a hypodermic needle and sunk it into Rarity's foreleg. Her movements slowed as Rarity grew heavier, until she finally slumped back into the bed. “Sorry about this, but it's probably best you leave. We can't afford to have her regress at such a critical stage.” With a muted nod Pinkie took one last look before she headed out.

It was quiet outside save for the distant chirp of crickets. The stars twinkled above and framed a pale yellow moon. Blinds were drawn in many of the homes, and some of the shops had closed early, everypony stricken by recent events.

Hurrying back to Sugarcube Corner, she made the same mistake her close friend had; she picked an alleyway and took a shortcut through it. Normally she bounced along, but it was difficult to be happy about anything these days, it seeming more likely than ever that Rarity could slip back into a catatonic state. She skulked through the shadowy alley.

Stranger still she'd arrived at the same place where Rarity had been assaulted. Almost like it had called her there. A couple of garbage cans lined the way, overflowing with thrash, but otherwise it was empty. She shivered.

Taking tentative steps, a shadow crawled over the brickwork, some hairs on her mane and tail standing on end. Her Pinkie Sense went nuts and sent a tingle through her backside. But that was nothing compared to a weight that suddenly pressed on top of her, and before she could cry out teeth bit into the nape of her neck. It was the classic position a stallion used on a mare to put them in submission, and she instinctively lowered her front end and raised her behind, her dock sticking up her tail.

Hot breath fell on her neck. A flared tip pressed between her plump buttocks, rubbing between the crack, smearing it in precum while he prepared to penetrate her. He traced circles around her puckered anus, teasing her plothole like he was ready to bury his massive member inside. She shuddered, not certain whether to feel relieved or more worried when his dick moved to her slit.

She was helpless to do more than watch their silhouettes crawl across the walls while he mounted her, spreading her velvety folds and sinking into her wet hole, a grunt escaping him while he took her to the hilt. She pounded against her cervix entrance, bottoming out with a hiss, throbbing as her tunnel reflexively clamped around him. She whimpered and her eyes teared up.

A trickle of blood ran down her inner thighs. She'd never been with a stallion before, or even a mare, and her brain threatened to shut down from a strange mix of pain and pleasure, desire and shame. Was this what Rarity felt when she'd been attacked? Like she somehow deserved this because she'd made a foolish mistake? Yet all she could do was lay there and take it.

Strong hips bucked into her, her cotton-candy buttocks slapped about with each thrust. Heavy breasts swayed each time he speared her, forehooves resting on her shoulders, and her asshole flexed in rhythm to the clamp of her wet cunt. She whinnied and sobbed, her face somehow stained pinker than ever, wishing she'd simply pass out and wake up once he finished.

Hooves spanked her candy ass, marking it with deep red hoofprints. He pulled upon her curly tail so hard she yelped, gushing a little as the unexpected ache served to tickle her pleasure center. He hammered into her harder, until her face drooped into the dirt. He pulled her mussed up main, spit on her butthole, and rubbed the spit in with a hoof, tracing her anal ring.

With a final groan he fully sheathed himself balls deep and started to unload. Her mane and tail went limp. He was so busy cumming, he barely noticed when she spun onto her back, wrapping all her limbs around him. His eyes glazed over as he blasted the last few drops into her now flooded womb, slowly blinking as he settled into his afterglow.

“Huh,” she said. “You're not much, are you? Just an average stallion.” Her snout split into a psychotic grin as Pinkamena took over. She lived in Pinkie's subconscious, ready to take over whenever the poor party mare couldn't handle the stress any longer, but she'd always blanked out these moments, unaware of what Pinkamena had done whenever she roamed free.

The rapist sputtered, staring into those crazed eyes. He tried to withdraw, but Pinkamena proved far stronger than she looked, throwing her weight atop him when she flipped him to the ground. He landed with a thud, bones snapping, held down by the crazy mare who rocked her wide thighs as she started to mercilessly fuck him.

He squealed, his spent dick sore but still hard, her vaginal muscles clamping like steel around his rod. He begged for mercy, but she hardly heard him, laughing as she humped him. Her eyes rolled into her head and her tongue fell out, her slams atop him so fierce more cracks sounded below. Her udders knocked together, topped by erect nipples.

She rode him until he buckled. Her ears pinned back and she squirted all over him. He screamed, blood dripping from his maw from internal bleeding, as his eyes started to dull. She removed herself with an audible plop, sat her ample bottom on his face, and rubbed her slit into it, smearing him in a mixture of her blood and their excretions with hysterical laughter.

In truth Pinkamena had subconsciously led her counterpart here. She'd killed a number of rapists rather brutally, spreading terror across Ponyville, enacting a little vigilante justice. She knew the others wouldn't approve. But Pinkie's hooves were clean, weren't they? And more importantly, Rarity was avenged. Would she ever be the same again? She certainly hoped so.

She slipped away from the crime scene, sneaked to the Everfree Forest, and washed away the mess. She'd return Pinkie's body to her soon. She was her dark guardian angel, the bearer of her sins, and would let all the trauma soak up into her like she always did, so that Pinkie would bounce back to her usual cheery self. And didn't that make all her suffering worthwhile?