Barley Barrel Fucks Everyponyby Scout FeatherChaptersSunny SkiesKerfuffleThe HoofingtonsPickle BarrelSunny SkiesBarley Barrel quietly crept through a dusty hall toward the last door on the right. Checking to make sure nopony had followed her, she slowly pushed it open to a tiny, dust-filled decrepit room in Hope Hollow's only hotel. The cramped room was only big enough for a single squeaky bed, a sink, and a window that probably hadn't been opened in ages. A short stallion sat on the bed, nervously twiddling his hooves until Barley had opened the door and interrupted his silence. "Anypony see you come in?" Sunny Skies asked, his voice barely a whisper. Barley shut the door behind herself and shook her head. "Nope. Came in through the second floor window. Still don't understand why we can't do this at your place." She climbed up onto the bed next to him. Sunny only sighed and shook his head. "No chance. As the mayor I have a reputation to uphold and I can't be seen with mares, let alone little fillies, going to and from my house at all hours." He continued his whispering tone and Barley merely rolled her eyes. Just when she was about to speak a hoof curled itself around her. She chose to clamp her mouth shut, and instead looked at him with an eager grin. His sturdy hoof groped and squeezed her rump, massaging in circles. She flicked her tail at him in response and he knew she was ready. All at once Barley was pushed onto her back on the bed and Sunny moved on top. She was dwarfed by his body but her cocky attitude was that of a pony twice her size. They kissed, an electric spark coursed between them, a jolt of anticipation flowed through their hooves. Sun explored her young body with his hooves and Barley obligingly spread her legs. Hoof touched filly folds and she let out a shudder. Their kiss broke. Sunny sat back with a look of awe while his hoof, operating on autopilot, continued gyrating on that delectable filly snatch, taking in the sight of her lovely curves, her plush rear, her puffy slit, and the freckles all around her rump and even on her vulva. She was starting to moisten under his rubbings with just a few drops, enough to cause her slit to glisten. With a hungry sigh Sunny climbed back off the bed, and Barley knew that there would be no foreplay. The stallion had transformed into a carnal animal who was going to take what he wanted and her wishes were secondary. Fortunately, this was exactly as she wanted. Sliding his rear hooves off the bed, Sunny mounted it from the side, yanking the filly toward the edge and directly in front of him. His cock, impressive in length but not girth, flopped against her belly. She looked into his lust-crazed eyes and for a moment felt a twinge of fear, but pushed it away. Following his base instincts and urges the stallion reared back and lined himself up. His leaky tip pressed into her hot folds, which cupped him as he lay still for a moment. The heat of his member radiated off of him, soaking her down to the core. She lifted her hips for better leverage, holding out a forehoof to brace him, and looked him in the eye. "Just bucking do it!" She whined in desperation and excitement. He did it. With a loud grunt he grabbed her little body and plunged inside doing his best to be gentle. His tip popped in and her walls were forcibly stretched to accommodate. If she hadn't been practising with a toy at home this would have hurt so much more, but there was still a twinge of pain. Sunny rubbed her thighs and her belly, soothing her as she slowly adapted to his girth. She squeezed his hoof tightly. Slowly, her grip on him loosened and she took deep, shuddering breaths. She had loosened up, and he was free to continue. He pulled back an inch or so and tugged her walls along with him. It wasn't until he shoved himself back inside that he lost grip on her walls and was able to plunge deeper than he had been previously. Gripping her thighs and the side of the bed, he started to rock himself back and forth. This was it. Real, actual fucking just like adults did. Barley could never quite believe it when it was happening. Never believe that that monster cock would fit inside. That she'd be below a stallion, spreading her legs, moaning like a slut. But she loved it. "Ohhh Sunny." Barley moaned, head falling back against the pillow. Grinning, Sunny gave a rough thrust and pushed himself even deeper. "OH!" "Shhh little filly." Sunny cooed, placing a hoof on her muzzle. "Theeeere's a good girl. Just....nnng....take it!" He thrusted again, this time bottoming out against her cervix. He hadn't even hit his ring yet. There was still so much to go. She must have seen the look in his eyes, the sparkle of need, and immediately started to panic. "Nonono! You won't fit! Please don't push it deeper!" She fretfully shook his head while he continued rocking back and forth, but it was too late. Sunny had his mind made up. "Shhh. Just relax. Deep breaths." Rearing back, he placed both hooves on the bed, on either side of her head, and gave a strong, firm thrust that pushed her at her limits. He pushed right up against the entrance to her womb and bumped against it. Before she had a chance to protest again, he yanked out his cock and did it again, bumping up against her cervix, trying to push inside. This happened again and again and again. His hoof drew closer together, pressing down on her shoulders. The filly gasped and whined with each and every thrust. She was making too much noise and drawing unwanted attention to herself. They couldn't have anypony hearing them, especially not Petunia downstairs, so on his last pull, he yanked himself out, leaving her feeling empty and hollow, and flipped her onto her stomach. He admired, for a moment, her gaping pussy and how it seemed to crave his stallionhood. How he'd stretched her so far it looked like she might never go back to normal. She would, of course, what with the natural elasticity of the body, but it was nice to dream. There was time to dream later. He had a filly to fuck silly. He mounted her again, this time putting a hoof on the back of her head and pushing her into the pillows so as to muffle her squeals. He didn't even take time lining himself up this time. Just pushed forward, found her waiting snatch, and start going to town. Fwap fwap fwap fwap The filly let out a shudder and a muffled groan of satisfaction as he routinely and continuously battered her cervix and fucked her like a fully-grown mare. She had stopped complaining, stopped whining. All she knew now was cock, cock, and more cock. It had become a part of her being, and her reason for living. She was his plaything, his fuck toy. He could do with her as he pleased. The bed squeaked and rocked against the wall with each shuddering thrust. Thud thud thud plap Suddenly he hit her cervix and it finally gave way. A hoof instantly moved to her shoulders to grip her tight as he pushed and pushed. He needed that tightness around his tip. He needed her hot, warm pussy around every inch of his dick. He craved it and simply would not take no for an answer. It went in. Her body gave way and so did she and suddenly everything was cock and he was all the way inside and the cock was her, and he pummeled her again and again and again and again. Plap plap plap plap His balls slapped against her thighs and his hips met her rear because everything was inside and there was nothing left to give. Barley went limp, her hind legs splayed at either side, Sunny holding onto them like handlebars as he fucked her down to her very core. Plap plap plapplapplapplapplap Harder. Faster. Thighs and hips smacking together and there was no limit to how hard or how fast he would go, but Barley wanted all of it. Barley screamed. She came. She came more. so much filly cum, every lost drop she had in her was drawn out. Milked. Sunny moaned. He picked her up, turned around, and plopped her down on the sink. Now that she was at his level he started hammering away again. He grunted into her ear as he grabbed it, wrapped his teeth around the tender flesh, and gave it a yank. Barley was shoved up against the wall, trying to grip onto the sink but failing. His continued assault of thrusts just kept going, showing no sign of stopping. The sink rattled and groaned, threatening to fall off the wall under the weight. Then he felt it: it started with a tingling down in his balls. The tightened, drew against his body. Then his breath became short, erratic and rushed. The tingling ran up his shaft to the tip and he started to swell. His tip swelled the most, expanded, flared. Locked inside like a cork, he wasn't able to pull out or move. A hot rush surged through, starting from the base of his shaft, up to the tip, and shot out. Hot, virile stallion seed exploded from his tip and filled the tight little filly womb. She had barely enough space for his cock so lodged in her like he was, her belly swelling. His cum seemed never-ending. Burst after burst, coating her womb, filling her to the brim. Pure pleasure surged through both of them and in their collective orgasms they moaned. Sunny Skies, coming down hard from his orgasm and returning back to normal, let out a satisfied sigh. Barley Barrel, struggling to stay awake and feeling thoroughly used and fucked, blinked through hazy eyes back at the stallion. Kerfuffle"Five bits, as agreed upon. Our usual price." Sunny counted out the bits and placed them on the little bedside table. Barley swept them up and deposited them in a small brown pouch that had, up until then, been completely empty. The coin purse of a filly with nothing to save. "Thanks, Sunny," Barley giggled and swished her tail as she climbed out the window, "see you next week!" With that, Barley was off, taking to the skies, doing lazy loop-de-loops through the air, dodging tree branches and gazing at the cloud cover above. Without her brother around she wasn't brave enough to dare going that high. Something about being around him brought out courage in Barley. Thinking of her brother, she thought about their birthday. It was three days from now and she hadn't gotten him anything. Every year Pickle managed to get the best presents for Barley and she fell short of getting him the perfect gift. This year was going to be different. But being a young filly in a small town meant her family didn't have much money, there was little work for a foal, and thus, little ways of saving up allowance or earning enough to buy a present. After a quick stop at home to shower, Barley headed back out into the streets of Hope Hollow with determination in her eyes. She walked around to what few businesses were left, poking her head in the door, asking the same question every time. "Got any chores I can do for a couple bits?" The answer was always no--business was slow enough that they had the time to do everything on their own, money scarce enough that they needed it for themselves. Barley sighed, dejected, and sat down by the fountain as she thought about her options. She wished more ponies were like Mayor Sunny Skies--upfront about what they wanted, and willing to help out when she needed a few bits. Years ago, what had started with her cleaning up and doing odd jobs at the Mayor's office had quickly turned her into excuses for the mayor to look at Barley's rump, having her bend over to pick things up, or cleaning hard to reach places. It hadn't taken long for Barley to figure out what Sunny was after: she'd always been a smart, precocious filly. The rest was history. She watched with idle boredom as a few ponies walked around town going about their business. The jingle of chimes caught her attention off to the side, a pair of mare exiting from the clothing shop and seamstress. She hadn't been in there in ages, normally avoiding anything to do with fashion, girly clothes, or otherwise appearing cutesy. Maybe the shop owner needed help there? Barley bounded over to the storefront, skipping into the air with a little flutter of her wings and hopped through the front door. "Be right there!" A familiar voice spoke over the chimes from behind the counter. Barley wandered around the rows of clothing mannequins and fabrics. "Oh, Barley! Hello there! What can I do for you?" Barley wheeled around to come face-to-face with Kerfuffle, smiling broadly as she stared down at her. "Hiya Kerfuffle! I was just gonna ask if you needed help around the shop. I'm trying to save up a few bits for a preset from my brother and--" "Oh, what a swell idea! Why don't you come over here and I could try some of my new designs on you! If you're good and stay still long enough, I'll give you a bit!" A bit was a pitiful amount in exchange for Barley's dignity, but as the saying went, Beggar's could not be Choosers. Barley hopped onto a small pedestal while Kerfuffle rummaged through a chest next to the counter, grabbing some different bits of fabric and an outfit from a rack. The next thing Barley knew, she was wearing a short red skirt and blouse. It was loose and light, and at the least had holes for her wings. "Don't you just look like a darling in that! What a cute little mare!" Kerfuffle seemed delighted in her torture. Barley tried to smile, but her heart just wasn't in it. "Now, just a few more outfits and we can--" "Actually, Kerfuffle, I don't think I want to do this anymore. I hate wearing dresses. Isn't there something else I can do, like clean around the shop, or..." Barley was already squirming out of the dress and respectfully placed it to the side. Kerfuffle looked dejected. "And we were just getting started! That's a darn shame, but I suppose if it really bothers you, I'll respect your decision. I'm afraid I don't have anything else for you to do, but a deal's a deal. You can have your bit." As Kerfuffle walked back to the counter to fetch the coin, Barley felt rotten. She rushed over, nudging at her leg. "You don't have to do that! I feel awful taking money if I haven't earned it." "Well..." Kerfuffle paused, eyeing Barley up and down. "I was just about to stop for a break. Would you like to have tea with me?" The back room of Kerfuffle's shop was crowded and full. One one wall was a small writing desk and worktable for the sewing machine. Another side had an old sofa and coffee table, and the rest of the room had boxes and boxes of supplies, shelves that reached to the ceiling with more boxes, and a small table in the corner where she ate lunch. Barley and Kerfuffle sat on the sofa together, sharing a sandwhich and some tea which, Barley had to admit, wasn't too bad. They talked about school and what Barley wanted to do when she was grown up--a Wonderbolt, obviously--until the topic came back to her brother, Pickle. "I wanted to get him the best present ever." Barley explained. "He always gets me a great present. But I'm no good at it. This year I want to be the one to get the best gift!" "And how close are you to saving up?" "Well, I'm still a little short. I have some from our parents and what Sunny gave me." "You mean Mayor Sunny Skies? I didn't know he paid you to be his assistant?" Barley hesitated, her eyes glanced around the room. "Well, it's mostly a secret and Pickle doesn't know." "And what do you do for him?" Kerfuffle pressed politely, her interest piqued. "Mostly help organize and, uh...dust?" "Oh really? I was just there last week and that place is as dusty as ever! Plus Petunia does most of his organizing. Does he pay you to do nothing?" Barley was trapped and she knew it. She paused for a long while, knowing she was being caught in a fib that wasn't well crafted. "Well...no..." Kerfuffle reached out, her voice changed to a different tone, one that was lower in tone and almost...lusty. "He pays you to join him in the hotel once a week, doesn't he?" "...How did you--" Barley blanched, eyes wide. Was she in trouble? "Don't worry, Barley, your secret is safe with me. I figured it out when I noticed the Mayor wasn't in his office the same time every week. At first I thought he was visitin' Petunia until I ran into her in the market. Then I saw you flying around the hotel, and well...it wasn't hard to piece together." Barley just nodded slowly, relieved that she wouldn't tell, but also terrified that it had been so easy for somepony to spot. A hoof on her back caught her attention. "How much does he pay you, Barley?" She asked gently. "Five bits. Sometimes six." She mumbled quietly, avoiding her gaze. She felt a little ashamed, avoiding eye contact. "So, if I pay you five bits to help save up for your present, you'll...let me do things to you, too?" Kerfuffle swallowed nervously and Barley blinked in confusion. She had been prepared for a lecture, but this was the opposite of what she'd been expecting! A grin flashed on the filly's muzzle, and she nodded. "Well, for five bits...sure! You can do whatever you want!" Barley flashed a toothy grin and relaxed back into the cushions. Kerfuffle was quiet, but Barley could feel her gaze over her young body, a heat rising in her cheeks as she stared. Barley obliged and spread her hind legs a little. "Do you, uh...do this sorta thing often? Other than with Mayor Sunny, that is," Kerfuffle leaned over, and in a final moment of bravery that Barley felt like she had waited forever for, put a hoof on one of Barley's legs. "Naah. Just when I need the bits," Barley stated plainly, eyes watching the mare curiously, sparkling with mischief. She squirmed in place just enough to cause Kerfuffle's hoof to slide down a little more, properly cupping her thigh now. Kerfuffle gulped, eyes gazing down to where her hoof was, and Barley spread her legs even further. She knew that Kerfuffle could absolutely see her fillyhood by now, and though Ponies were naked all the time it was certainly having an effect. They made eye contact and Barley smiled. "It's okay. You can touch me," Barley whispered, trying to appear as cute and innocent as possible, but in reality was waiting in desperate anticipation. She didn't have to wait long for the mare to oblige, hoof dipping between Barley's thighs and feeling her hot mound, pressing the frog of her hoof against her petals. Kerfuffle rubbed in a small circle, biting her lip as she toyed with the soft, young and supple flesh, prying about her folds to peek at her pink flesh underneath. Barley stifled a gasp and this seemed to earn Kerfuffle some confidence, and the mare became more deliberate in her touching. Barley spread her legs as wide as she could, and Kerfuffle leaned over to gaze upon her young sex. It was now glistening in anticipation. Prying apart her folds, Kerfuffle leaned further over and took a whiff of the air. She visibly shuddered. "Gosh, that's a cute pussy," Kerfuffle remarked, mostly to herself. She absentmindedly licked her lips and Barley bucked her hips. "C'mon," urged Barley, "stop teasing and get it over with!" This earned a wicked grin and a nod of understanding. Kerfuffle's hoof dipped between Barley's leg and she began to rub around more deliberately, brazenly and openly rubbing the filly off. She leaned toward Barley's face, a moment of eye contact shared that spoke enough unwritten language that gave Kerfuffle enough courage to close the distance and lock lips. They shared an intimate kiss, muzzles pressed against each other, despite the size difference, tongues darting forth to intertwine in the middle. Barley, fuelled by the passion of lust and the hoof that was rubbing her so erratically and lustfully between her legs, and Kerfuffle, aroused beyond any experience in her life as she played out her ultimate fantasy. Kerfuffle's free hoof began rubbing up and down the filly's side. Barley was obedient, keeping her thighs pressed around the hoof and grinding against it. Her scent filled the air--the scent of aroused filly. Sticky, clear juices coated Kerfuffle's hoof. The mare pulled it back, broke their erotic kiss, and without breaking eye contact, lapped the sticky hoof clean. Barley panted as she watched with rosey cheeks as the mare licked her juices off her hoof. Her legs were still spread wide. Kerfuffle winked at her before climbing off the sofa to sit on her haunches on the floor in front of the sofa and Barley. She perched herself between the filly's legs, the elevation of the sofa just enough that if the mare leaned forward and tilted her muzzle in the right way... With a muzzle pressed between her legs, wet smacks and slurps filling the room, Barley squeaked and groaned. Hooves held onto Kerfuffle's head instinctively, hips starting to grind against her. That wonderful, sloppy, wet tongue had wormed itself between her delicate lower lips and into her honeypoy, now hungrily lapping out of her therein. "Eeeek!" squealed Barley, both hooves on Kerfuffle's head, "K-kerfuffffle! Oh goooosh!" But the mare didn't let up, her expert tongue lashing about, driving up along her clit, pressing against all the right spots. She knew how to please a mare being one herself. She was showing Barley world's of pleasure the filly never thought possible being with only stallions. The air was filled with the sound of slurping and lapping until Kerfuffle shifted her muzzle over the budding filly nub and wrapped her lips around it. Using her tongue she lashed at it, slipping it in at it's widest point inside of the filly's opening repeatedly, slurping on that throbbing filly clit. With a loud moan Barley came, hips clenched around Kerfuffle's head, squeezing her in place as she squirted onto her muzzle, once, twice, and then she collapsed. But Kerfuffle didn't stop. When the filly thought she'd had enough, Kerfuffle was still hungrily driving away at Barley's clit. Her filly nub throbbed and spasmed and she tightened her hold again. "K-kerfuffle! Ahhh...Kerfuffle I already...Oh!" Despite her exhaustion or the fact that she'd clearly gotten off already twice, Barley squealed out louder than before, cumming harder than ever, and coating Kerfuffle with a third, and final, orgasm. She collapsed in a heap and lay down, her vision heavy and blurry. Kerfuffle finished cleaning her off before rising back up, laying on the sofa with a wing around the tired and exhausted filly. "You're a big squirter, y'know that?" Kerfuffle giggled, "I wasn't sure you were gonna cum like that at your age...but wow!" Barley mumbled in response, her head laying against Kerfuffle's side. She was barely staying awake after such a powerful orgasm. Kerfuffle pulled her tighter into a cuddle, pressing Barley to her chest. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Kerfuffle stroked her mane, a hint of worry in her voice. Barley, despite being fatigued, rolled her eyes. "Nuh uh, of course not. I'm a big filly." "Of course you are. My mistake." A hoof stroked Barley's mane. As much as Kerfuffle wanted to stay, the mare had little time to spare. She pried herself out from the cuddle and draped a blanket over Barley's small, sleeping body. When the filly awoke, a small hoof-full of change was waiting for her on a table, along with a muffin for a snack. Barley placed the change into her coin purse, grabbed the muffin in her muzzle, and trotted out the back door. The HoofingtonsBarley jingled the small coinpurse tucked away under her wing. It felt good to have some bits to her name, even if it wasn't yet enough for the ultimate present for Pickle. Still, it had been a successful day. She doubted the filly scout's in the big cities were able to make the kind of bits she'd managed to stow away. She vaguely wondered if cookies would sell around their little town when she heard some familiar bickering behind a nearby fence. They had been arguing about apricots before the topic quickly turned to complaining about the neighbours. Barley recognized the Upscale Manehattan accents almost immediately. An idea springing to mind, she jumped into the air and hovered just above the fence. "Mister and Missus Hoofinton!" She exclaimed loudly, to which the Unicorn couple jumped to a start. "Yes, Barley. How may we--" "Apricots! I can reach the top of the tree, and help you pick them. For a few bits, of course..." She cut off the stallion before he could finish her sentence as she fluttered down to the soft grass in their yard, inviting herself in. Mr. Hoofington simply rolled his eyes. "Magic, darling. We can pick them ourselves plenty fine, thank you!" He was abrupt and curt, standing up and ready to shoe her away before his wife stopped him. She gave him a glare, something was whispered between them, and before Barley knew it the stallion had sat back down. "...Did you say you were in need of bits, sweetheart?" the mare interjected. She watched Barley with an intrigued smirk in the corner of her muzzle. "As my husband said, we don't need help picking Apricots, but perhaps there is another way we could...make an arrangement?" The air inside the Hoofington's home was stale and dry. Barley licked her dry lips and sipped at a glass of water as she gazed around the upscale kitchen. All new countertops, fancy appliances. The Hoofington's certainly wanted any and everypony who visited to know they were an important family back where they were from. Harsh whispers echoed from the adjoining room and Barley attempted to listen, swivelling her ears this way and that, trying to pick up key words, but nothing was decipherable. Her patience, however, was rewarded when the Hoofington's walked back into the room. Mr. Hoofington took the long way around the kitchen, walking around behind Barley with his eyes glued to her. She felt like he would bore a hole through her body. Mrs. Hoofington, on the contrary, walked in front of Barley at the Kitchen counter and put on an icy smile. "Twenty bits!" announced the mare, her eyes never leaving Barley, "for doing what we say and keeping it our secret. I assume you know the drill what with the other ponies in town?" Barley was left aghast and surprised. How had they known about her dealings with the other ponies? As if reading her mind, Mrs. Hoofington continued. "Oh, we know. Word gets around. But rest assured your secret it safe with us, darling. Now come along!" She clapped her hooves together and Barley felt herself being whisked away. The rest of the Hoofington house was much alike the kitchen. Dry, expensive, eloquent. Little expense was spared in decoration but to Barley it resembled more of the sterile, clean hallways of a hospital than a place where somepony lived. Mrs. Hoofington lead them through the Living Room and up the staircase while her Husband stayed behind. Up the stairs, down a hallway and passed closed doors and a startingly white bathroom that seemed to sparkle. Barley observed several picture frames that hung on the walls with younger-looking Hoofington's and a third young mare through different stages of her life. The end of the hall was their destination, and Mrs. Hoofington promptly opened the door to a small bedroom. Much of it was adorned in pink, from the princess-themed bedspread to a large plushie collection and the curtains on the window. Barley didn't need to hear what the mare said next; she knew for whom this room belonged to. "Our daughter's room," Mrs. Hoofington stated, pointing out the obvious, "She moved away to university last year. Her absence has been sorely felt around here, particularly by my Husband." Barley started to see where she was going, but said nothing as she walked around the room. Being a tomboy herself, the lavish girlishness of it all made her sick. How could anypony like all this? "...And she's a brilliant student from what she has written to us, but her letters are so few and far in-between." Mrs. Hoofington continued droning on about how magnificent their daughter was. Barley's lack of attention and obvious boredom earned her a sharp glare, and the mare carried on. "But nevertheless, that's all you need to know. She is prim and proper, good and school, and does what she's told. I expect you know at least a thing or two about that. Goodness, your hooves are filthy, get off the bed!" She shouted and Barley nearly jumped out of her skin, quickly sliding back down to the floor. Her hooves made contact with the soft carpet soundlessly. "Listen," the mare rubbed the bridge of her nose and looked down in frustration. "Go wash yourself. She would never have dirtied herself like some colt. When you are finished you will put on the dress I have laid out for you and wait on the bed. And don't even think about wearing that disgusting hat. You have twenty minutes. Mr Hoofington will join us shortly. Do as you are told and be a good filly, keep your mouth shut and call him 'Daddy' a few times and you will get your bits. Now run along!" Barley did as she was told. She trudged to the sparkling bathroom and ran a bath while she quietly undressed herself of her beloved beanie and shirt. When the tub was partly full and deemed warm enough, she climbed over the side and slid into the water. The shampoo they had was much too flowery and girly for her liking, and she knew she would hear about it from Pickle later, but she decided not to complain. She methodically washed each of her hooves, making sure to clear the dirt from her frogs. She lathered up her mane with soap, rinsing it off. Her wings, too, received an extra cleaning. After she'd pulled the cork on the basin and watched the now-dirty water descend into the drain, Barley grabbed a nearby fluffy towel--which she begrudgingly noticed was pink--and dried herself off. Her fur, still damp in places, poofed out. She quickly ran a brush through her mane to save herself from any complaints about that, either. Twenty bits was a lot of money, she decided, and would be more than enough to allow her to get the present for Pickle, with enough leftover for lunch. She left her clothes on the bathroom floor as she trudged back to the bedroom, impatient to get this over with, while morbidly curious as to what Mrs. Hoofington had picked out for her. When she saw the frilly pink dress that had been laid out for her, she nearly blanched. It was so far gone from anything Barkley would ever be caught dead in that she felt like somepony was playing a cruel joke. Begrudgingly, and with disgust in herself, she wiggled into the dress, noticing the lack of holes for her wings, how it tightened around her flanks to accentuate her figure. The one redeeming quality was that it had straps around her shoulders rather than sleeves or frilly cuffs. Aside from that, Barley questioned why anypony would ever wear such an ugly garment. A voice from the corner of the room mumbled its praise and Barley realized that Mrs. Hoofington had been sitting there this whole time, watching from a chair. They made eye contact but neither said anything. Barley knew what was expected of her. Biting her lip and pushing down aside her inhibitions about the strange situation, she laid down on her belly, drawing close to herself a small teddy bear that had been placed by the pillow, and waited. She didn't have to wait long. The sound of hoofsteps coming up the stairs echoed through the silent anticipation that hung around the room. She could practically hear his every step as he neared closer and closer to the door. He waited outside for a brief moment, then knocked. Without waiting for a reply he then turned the doorknob with his magic and swung it aside. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the filly laid across his daughter's bed. Barley found herself blushing as he stared at her so intensely for what felt like long minutes. Eventually, he walked in, stepping around the bed to gaze all around her, using his magic to toy with the dress, lifting it up, pulling it about, ruffling the frills. "You look just like her," he breathed. He didn't even acknowledge his wife as he took a step closer to the bed, lifting a forehoof to touch one of Barley's rear ones. He cleared his throat at last and spoke louder, "...I hear you're doing well at school, darling." "Yes, Daddy," was Barley's response, following his wife's instruction to not say much. Mr. Hoofington's ear twitched and he grinned wide. He liked that, if the rapidly swelling length under him was any indication. "Good girl." His voice hung thick in the air as he gazed at her with a predatory grin. The hoof on her hind leg started to drift up, sliding under her dress. Barley gulped and huddled the teddy bear close to herself, doing her best impression of a cute, innocent little filly that wasn't about to get railed by her father. What a messed up family this had to of been. "And you've been making lots of friends?" His hoof slid up and up, bunching up her dress around her backside, touching her thighs. "Making your teachers happy?" "Yes, Daddy," said Barley again, closing her eyes as his hoof finally made contact with her young slit. He cupped her soft, puffy folds in his hoof and massaged in circles, trailing around the outside of her mound, teasing her in the most wondrous of ways. The air hung thick with the scent of stallion. Suddenly her dress was pulled back abruptly, both of Mr. Hoofington's hooves planting on her rump under the fabric of her clothing. He mounted the bed and dove under her dress, his muzzle stealing away to her secret place underneath of her dress, between her legs. All of a sudden he was kissing her with wet smacks, his tongue dancing around her outer folds and just teasing the pink, budding flesh between her soft lips. Dancing between them, up and down, at a feverent place. Barley stifled a moan into the teddy bear as her body trembled and reacted positively to the stallion's ministrations. She vaguely wondered if he did this to his real daughter, or if this was some sort of sick fantasy of his. Either way, he was bucking good with his tongue. Barley felt a familiar warmth starting to build deep in her tummy, a hot stickiness forming between her legs, before being eagerly lapped up by the Mr. Hoofington's roaming tongue. Before Barley had a chance to let out another moan, her clenching pussy on the verge of a powerful wink, Mr. Hoofington pulled away. She felt herself getting sticky again already, her tail obediently flagged up and over her back. Mr. Hoofington admired her cushy rear for a moment and dived right back in, but this time focused on the puckered ring just above. Barley squeaked as she felt a foreign, wet appendage probing at her little tailhole. She'd never even so much as experimented before there. What was he doing! Didn't he know what kind of place that was! But before she even had a chance to let out a protest, he'd wormed his tongue past her ring and was now probing her deep inside. She squeaked and jolted in place, earning a chuckle from the stallion behind her. "There's a good girl. Just let it alllll out." He spoke between slurps and licking, alternating between sloppy, wet kisses to her puckered tailhole and her waiting, tiny little fillyhood that winked in his face, drooling excited filly juices onto his chin. "Eeeek!" Barley moaned out, unable to muffle herself with her Teddy any longer. "D-daaaadyyy!" She squealed. She came while he had his muzzle back on her snatch and rewarded him with a burst of excited filly juices all over his face and chin. Coming down from her orgasm, Barley recognized her own scent filling the room, mixing with that of the stallion, but there was another. Her eyes looked back to the corner and she realized that Mrs. Hoofington was also touching herself, her marehood exposed with a forehoof between her legs, rubbing away. They made eye contact and the mare came, squirting onto the pink chair and her hoof. The bed squeaked behind Barley as Mr. Hoofington rose up, his average-sized stallionhood coming into full view and blocking out the light of a nearby lamp, blackening her vision. He was stroking himself eagerly, eyes glued to her flank. His free hoof held to her rear, he started to point himself down, getting ready to line himself up... ...and Barley's vision was blocked by that of Mrs. Hoofington, who'd crossed the room without Barley noticing. A hoof on Barley's head, she was redirected in front of her, her muzzle pushed right into Mrs. Hoofington's dripping slit. Barley obediently tilted her muzzle forward, sticking out her tongue and preparing herself to lap up all the mare's juices... ...when a distinct pressure was placed against her tailhole, still wet from the stallion's tongue. She realized instantly what the pressure belonged to, and though she couldn't see it, she knew what was about to happen. He was going to take her ass. Fearfully, Barley tried to lift her head but she was locked in place by Mrs. Hoofington's surprisingly strong hooves. She was given a push and her little muzzle was pressed right up against the winking slit in front of her. And and her anal virginity was taken in an instant. The stallion above groaned as he pushed inside, past her ring, spreading her apart and impaling her oh-so-tight rump on his thick, meaty stallionhood. Barley squealed in surprise but was muffled as the mare started to grind herself on her muzzle. Blinking away the pain of initial penetration Barley attemped to lap and lick around Mrs. Hoofington's inner canal, exploring with her tiny tongue, trying to pay extra attention to her little nub. Her own rump wiggled back and forth once to adjust herself. Suddenly, it was like Mr. Hoofington had forgotten about being gentle. A hoof planted itself on the bed next to her and he started to buck wildly, dragging his cock along her walls as he pulled himself in and out so crudely. Muzzle buried in a mare's snatch, stallion rutting away at her tailhole, Barley had never been fucked quite so thoroughly. If this is what the Hoofington's had done to their daughter, there was no real wonder why she had wanted to leave for college. Still, Barley had to admit that it felt strangely good being used like some thing, a playtoy, an object for sexual gratification. Both forehooves placed next to Barley, Mr. Hoofington began bucking in rapid, deep thrusts. Mrs. Hoofington held Barley's head and pushed her so much deeper that the filly could barely breathe. All Barley knew was pleasing them, both ends of her desperately trying to keep up with what was demanded of her. Both adults on either side became more erratic. It couldn't be much longer. Mr. Hoofington bent over and began thrusting with wild abandon. Mrs. Hoofington started to grind herself on Barley's muzzle. "Gods, you're so tight. What a good girl." Mr Hoofington put a hoof on Barley's back, his hips colliding with her rear in loud slaps. "Yesss, keep licking Momma like that. Ohhh..." Mrs. Hoofington threw her head back, squealing into the air, a single hoof ruffling Barley's mane. Both adults came at the same time and Barley barely knew what was happening. Her vision was mostly black, perhaps due to her obstructed views, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen. Her rear felt sore and thoroughly used, but also tingly and hot as Mr. Hoofington unloaded his thick, virile seed deep into her gut. Mrs. Hoofington squirted burst after burst of marecum onto Barley's face. And Barley, despite being used like a plaything with little regard for her own comfort and pleasure, and despite no attention to her fillyhood whatsoever...came all over the dress and sheets. It was the best orgasm of her life. Then she promptly passed out. The Hoofington's, recovering from their collective orgasm, panting for air, looked at each other in amazement and extreme satisfaction. "Did she just cum?" "I think she did. What a slut." Barley was awoken sharply a few moments later when the Hoofington's started to undress her. She was given the chance to bathe and clean herself again, which she did promptly and sleepily, redressed herself, and met them downstairs at the Kitchen Table oncemore. A hefty bag of bits awaited her. Barley eyed it hungrily. "For the best service we've had in a long time. You played the part perfectly," said Mr. Hoofington. "I trust this stay between us," Mrs. Hoofington eyed Barley suspiciously. Barley took the bits and counted them. Fifty-two bits, far more than she expected. She looked between the couple in disbelief. "That's an extra treat for an extra special filly. Now, be on your way!" Barley was whisked away out of the house and found herself on the streets once again, with far more bits than she'd needed, feeling strange about the events that had befallen her. What a weird family. What a weird day. At least now she had enough bits for Pickle's present. Pickle BarrelBarley and Pickle sat together in the family living room, each holding a wrapped present in their laps. The twins looked at each other with giddy excitement, both eager to see the other open the present they'd gotten for the other. "You go first!" Pickle grinned. Barley tore open the packaging and squealed with delight. It was a Wonderbolt-themed scarf. It looked like a real scarf a Wonderbolt would wear, really top quality. "Piiiiiickle! Wheredidyougetthis! Oh my gosh!" She squealed again, grabbing her brother in a crushing hug. "Heh, it was nothing sis! I had it special ordered all the way from Manehattan!" He reached down to open his present, ready for the usual yearly routine, He grabbed the wrapping paper and the bow and tore it open. His eyes went wide. "No. Way. You got me a JOY BOY! Sis! Eeee!" It was his turn to grab his sister into a crushing hug, squeezing her in a bone-crushing hug. "Best birthday gift ever! Where did you even get the bits for this!" "I, uh...saved my allowance and did some chores around town. No biggie!" The siblings embraced again, both cradling their respective gifts. Later that evening, the siblings were curled up on Pickle's bed. Pickle was plugging away at his new Joy Boy console while Barley watched, head on his shoulder. There was something else on her mind, thinking about the day's activities. "Hey Pickle?" She nosed at his shoulder and mumbled. "Yeah, Sis? Whoa, did you see that!" "Yeah, that was cool! But, there's actually a second part of your gift." "There is?" Pickle glanced at her, confused. Barley bit her lip. "Yeah. Just wait." The filly wiggled down the bed while Pickle gave her curious glances between playing his game. Barley wiggled down and down, until she was at level with his waist. Outstretching a hoof, she placed it on his thigh, snaking it inward, toward his crotch and made contact with his sheath. Pickle jumped, his eyes wide. He wasn't stupid. He knew what she was doing. "Sis, I..." "Shut up. I want to do this." That shut Pickle up. He barely paid attention to the game as he watched is sister move her hoof over his sheath, cupping his balls, toying with his small coinpurse. Pickle was a young colt and was just starting to go through certain changes. Mainly, they involved having a constant overactive part of his body. He'd touched himself once or twice in the past, when Barley wasn't there. As a result, his little member was quick to grow out of its sheath. It throbbed to full mast in almost an instant. Pickle was about to stop her. To tell her she didn't have to do this, that he still liked her as his sister. Or, at least, that's what he told himself until he felt her hot, wet mouth envolop his length, her lips closing around the head of his colthood. "Oh Siiiiis~" Pickle moaned as Barley started to fellate him properly, slowly moving back and forth, tugging at his sensitive skin with her lips. Her tongue lapped at him, slurping on him. Each time she pulled back she descended down again, going deeper each time and threatening to pop into her throat. It wasn't long before Pickle placed his hooves on Barley's head, moaning into the air. He wouldn't last long like this...couldn't last long. His member was trembling and throbbing already, Barley's hoof rubbing at his balls no help at all. He exploded with little warning, sending white hot bursts of colt cum spattering to the back of her throat, inside her muzzle, and as she pulled back, all over her face. Barley emerged, sputtering for air, but otherwise looking satisfied. She gave Pickle a grin. "How was it, Pickle?" "Wow, Sis. This is the best birthday EVER!"
Sunny SkiesBarley Barrel quietly crept through a dusty hall toward the last door on the right. Checking to make sure nopony had followed her, she slowly pushed it open to a tiny, dust-filled decrepit room in Hope Hollow's only hotel. The cramped room was only big enough for a single squeaky bed, a sink, and a window that probably hadn't been opened in ages. A short stallion sat on the bed, nervously twiddling his hooves until Barley had opened the door and interrupted his silence. "Anypony see you come in?" Sunny Skies asked, his voice barely a whisper. Barley shut the door behind herself and shook her head. "Nope. Came in through the second floor window. Still don't understand why we can't do this at your place." She climbed up onto the bed next to him. Sunny only sighed and shook his head. "No chance. As the mayor I have a reputation to uphold and I can't be seen with mares, let alone little fillies, going to and from my house at all hours." He continued his whispering tone and Barley merely rolled her eyes. Just when she was about to speak a hoof curled itself around her. She chose to clamp her mouth shut, and instead looked at him with an eager grin. His sturdy hoof groped and squeezed her rump, massaging in circles. She flicked her tail at him in response and he knew she was ready. All at once Barley was pushed onto her back on the bed and Sunny moved on top. She was dwarfed by his body but her cocky attitude was that of a pony twice her size. They kissed, an electric spark coursed between them, a jolt of anticipation flowed through their hooves. Sun explored her young body with his hooves and Barley obligingly spread her legs. Hoof touched filly folds and she let out a shudder. Their kiss broke. Sunny sat back with a look of awe while his hoof, operating on autopilot, continued gyrating on that delectable filly snatch, taking in the sight of her lovely curves, her plush rear, her puffy slit, and the freckles all around her rump and even on her vulva. She was starting to moisten under his rubbings with just a few drops, enough to cause her slit to glisten. With a hungry sigh Sunny climbed back off the bed, and Barley knew that there would be no foreplay. The stallion had transformed into a carnal animal who was going to take what he wanted and her wishes were secondary. Fortunately, this was exactly as she wanted. Sliding his rear hooves off the bed, Sunny mounted it from the side, yanking the filly toward the edge and directly in front of him. His cock, impressive in length but not girth, flopped against her belly. She looked into his lust-crazed eyes and for a moment felt a twinge of fear, but pushed it away. Following his base instincts and urges the stallion reared back and lined himself up. His leaky tip pressed into her hot folds, which cupped him as he lay still for a moment. The heat of his member radiated off of him, soaking her down to the core. She lifted her hips for better leverage, holding out a forehoof to brace him, and looked him in the eye. "Just bucking do it!" She whined in desperation and excitement. He did it. With a loud grunt he grabbed her little body and plunged inside doing his best to be gentle. His tip popped in and her walls were forcibly stretched to accommodate. If she hadn't been practising with a toy at home this would have hurt so much more, but there was still a twinge of pain. Sunny rubbed her thighs and her belly, soothing her as she slowly adapted to his girth. She squeezed his hoof tightly. Slowly, her grip on him loosened and she took deep, shuddering breaths. She had loosened up, and he was free to continue. He pulled back an inch or so and tugged her walls along with him. It wasn't until he shoved himself back inside that he lost grip on her walls and was able to plunge deeper than he had been previously. Gripping her thighs and the side of the bed, he started to rock himself back and forth. This was it. Real, actual fucking just like adults did. Barley could never quite believe it when it was happening. Never believe that that monster cock would fit inside. That she'd be below a stallion, spreading her legs, moaning like a slut. But she loved it. "Ohhh Sunny." Barley moaned, head falling back against the pillow. Grinning, Sunny gave a rough thrust and pushed himself even deeper. "OH!" "Shhh little filly." Sunny cooed, placing a hoof on her muzzle. "Theeeere's a good girl. Just....nnng....take it!" He thrusted again, this time bottoming out against her cervix. He hadn't even hit his ring yet. There was still so much to go. She must have seen the look in his eyes, the sparkle of need, and immediately started to panic. "Nonono! You won't fit! Please don't push it deeper!" She fretfully shook his head while he continued rocking back and forth, but it was too late. Sunny had his mind made up. "Shhh. Just relax. Deep breaths." Rearing back, he placed both hooves on the bed, on either side of her head, and gave a strong, firm thrust that pushed her at her limits. He pushed right up against the entrance to her womb and bumped against it. Before she had a chance to protest again, he yanked out his cock and did it again, bumping up against her cervix, trying to push inside. This happened again and again and again. His hoof drew closer together, pressing down on her shoulders. The filly gasped and whined with each and every thrust. She was making too much noise and drawing unwanted attention to herself. They couldn't have anypony hearing them, especially not Petunia downstairs, so on his last pull, he yanked himself out, leaving her feeling empty and hollow, and flipped her onto her stomach. He admired, for a moment, her gaping pussy and how it seemed to crave his stallionhood. How he'd stretched her so far it looked like she might never go back to normal. She would, of course, what with the natural elasticity of the body, but it was nice to dream. There was time to dream later. He had a filly to fuck silly. He mounted her again, this time putting a hoof on the back of her head and pushing her into the pillows so as to muffle her squeals. He didn't even take time lining himself up this time. Just pushed forward, found her waiting snatch, and start going to town. Fwap fwap fwap fwap The filly let out a shudder and a muffled groan of satisfaction as he routinely and continuously battered her cervix and fucked her like a fully-grown mare. She had stopped complaining, stopped whining. All she knew now was cock, cock, and more cock. It had become a part of her being, and her reason for living. She was his plaything, his fuck toy. He could do with her as he pleased. The bed squeaked and rocked against the wall with each shuddering thrust. Thud thud thud plap Suddenly he hit her cervix and it finally gave way. A hoof instantly moved to her shoulders to grip her tight as he pushed and pushed. He needed that tightness around his tip. He needed her hot, warm pussy around every inch of his dick. He craved it and simply would not take no for an answer. It went in. Her body gave way and so did she and suddenly everything was cock and he was all the way inside and the cock was her, and he pummeled her again and again and again and again. Plap plap plap plap His balls slapped against her thighs and his hips met her rear because everything was inside and there was nothing left to give. Barley went limp, her hind legs splayed at either side, Sunny holding onto them like handlebars as he fucked her down to her very core. Plap plap plapplapplapplapplap Harder. Faster. Thighs and hips smacking together and there was no limit to how hard or how fast he would go, but Barley wanted all of it. Barley screamed. She came. She came more. so much filly cum, every lost drop she had in her was drawn out. Milked. Sunny moaned. He picked her up, turned around, and plopped her down on the sink. Now that she was at his level he started hammering away again. He grunted into her ear as he grabbed it, wrapped his teeth around the tender flesh, and gave it a yank. Barley was shoved up against the wall, trying to grip onto the sink but failing. His continued assault of thrusts just kept going, showing no sign of stopping. The sink rattled and groaned, threatening to fall off the wall under the weight. Then he felt it: it started with a tingling down in his balls. The tightened, drew against his body. Then his breath became short, erratic and rushed. The tingling ran up his shaft to the tip and he started to swell. His tip swelled the most, expanded, flared. Locked inside like a cork, he wasn't able to pull out or move. A hot rush surged through, starting from the base of his shaft, up to the tip, and shot out. Hot, virile stallion seed exploded from his tip and filled the tight little filly womb. She had barely enough space for his cock so lodged in her like he was, her belly swelling. His cum seemed never-ending. Burst after burst, coating her womb, filling her to the brim. Pure pleasure surged through both of them and in their collective orgasms they moaned. Sunny Skies, coming down hard from his orgasm and returning back to normal, let out a satisfied sigh. Barley Barrel, struggling to stay awake and feeling thoroughly used and fucked, blinked through hazy eyes back at the stallion.
Kerfuffle"Five bits, as agreed upon. Our usual price." Sunny counted out the bits and placed them on the little bedside table. Barley swept them up and deposited them in a small brown pouch that had, up until then, been completely empty. The coin purse of a filly with nothing to save. "Thanks, Sunny," Barley giggled and swished her tail as she climbed out the window, "see you next week!" With that, Barley was off, taking to the skies, doing lazy loop-de-loops through the air, dodging tree branches and gazing at the cloud cover above. Without her brother around she wasn't brave enough to dare going that high. Something about being around him brought out courage in Barley. Thinking of her brother, she thought about their birthday. It was three days from now and she hadn't gotten him anything. Every year Pickle managed to get the best presents for Barley and she fell short of getting him the perfect gift. This year was going to be different. But being a young filly in a small town meant her family didn't have much money, there was little work for a foal, and thus, little ways of saving up allowance or earning enough to buy a present. After a quick stop at home to shower, Barley headed back out into the streets of Hope Hollow with determination in her eyes. She walked around to what few businesses were left, poking her head in the door, asking the same question every time. "Got any chores I can do for a couple bits?" The answer was always no--business was slow enough that they had the time to do everything on their own, money scarce enough that they needed it for themselves. Barley sighed, dejected, and sat down by the fountain as she thought about her options. She wished more ponies were like Mayor Sunny Skies--upfront about what they wanted, and willing to help out when she needed a few bits. Years ago, what had started with her cleaning up and doing odd jobs at the Mayor's office had quickly turned her into excuses for the mayor to look at Barley's rump, having her bend over to pick things up, or cleaning hard to reach places. It hadn't taken long for Barley to figure out what Sunny was after: she'd always been a smart, precocious filly. The rest was history. She watched with idle boredom as a few ponies walked around town going about their business. The jingle of chimes caught her attention off to the side, a pair of mare exiting from the clothing shop and seamstress. She hadn't been in there in ages, normally avoiding anything to do with fashion, girly clothes, or otherwise appearing cutesy. Maybe the shop owner needed help there? Barley bounded over to the storefront, skipping into the air with a little flutter of her wings and hopped through the front door. "Be right there!" A familiar voice spoke over the chimes from behind the counter. Barley wandered around the rows of clothing mannequins and fabrics. "Oh, Barley! Hello there! What can I do for you?" Barley wheeled around to come face-to-face with Kerfuffle, smiling broadly as she stared down at her. "Hiya Kerfuffle! I was just gonna ask if you needed help around the shop. I'm trying to save up a few bits for a preset from my brother and--" "Oh, what a swell idea! Why don't you come over here and I could try some of my new designs on you! If you're good and stay still long enough, I'll give you a bit!" A bit was a pitiful amount in exchange for Barley's dignity, but as the saying went, Beggar's could not be Choosers. Barley hopped onto a small pedestal while Kerfuffle rummaged through a chest next to the counter, grabbing some different bits of fabric and an outfit from a rack. The next thing Barley knew, she was wearing a short red skirt and blouse. It was loose and light, and at the least had holes for her wings. "Don't you just look like a darling in that! What a cute little mare!" Kerfuffle seemed delighted in her torture. Barley tried to smile, but her heart just wasn't in it. "Now, just a few more outfits and we can--" "Actually, Kerfuffle, I don't think I want to do this anymore. I hate wearing dresses. Isn't there something else I can do, like clean around the shop, or..." Barley was already squirming out of the dress and respectfully placed it to the side. Kerfuffle looked dejected. "And we were just getting started! That's a darn shame, but I suppose if it really bothers you, I'll respect your decision. I'm afraid I don't have anything else for you to do, but a deal's a deal. You can have your bit." As Kerfuffle walked back to the counter to fetch the coin, Barley felt rotten. She rushed over, nudging at her leg. "You don't have to do that! I feel awful taking money if I haven't earned it." "Well..." Kerfuffle paused, eyeing Barley up and down. "I was just about to stop for a break. Would you like to have tea with me?" The back room of Kerfuffle's shop was crowded and full. One one wall was a small writing desk and worktable for the sewing machine. Another side had an old sofa and coffee table, and the rest of the room had boxes and boxes of supplies, shelves that reached to the ceiling with more boxes, and a small table in the corner where she ate lunch. Barley and Kerfuffle sat on the sofa together, sharing a sandwhich and some tea which, Barley had to admit, wasn't too bad. They talked about school and what Barley wanted to do when she was grown up--a Wonderbolt, obviously--until the topic came back to her brother, Pickle. "I wanted to get him the best present ever." Barley explained. "He always gets me a great present. But I'm no good at it. This year I want to be the one to get the best gift!" "And how close are you to saving up?" "Well, I'm still a little short. I have some from our parents and what Sunny gave me." "You mean Mayor Sunny Skies? I didn't know he paid you to be his assistant?" Barley hesitated, her eyes glanced around the room. "Well, it's mostly a secret and Pickle doesn't know." "And what do you do for him?" Kerfuffle pressed politely, her interest piqued. "Mostly help organize and, uh...dust?" "Oh really? I was just there last week and that place is as dusty as ever! Plus Petunia does most of his organizing. Does he pay you to do nothing?" Barley was trapped and she knew it. She paused for a long while, knowing she was being caught in a fib that wasn't well crafted. "Well...no..." Kerfuffle reached out, her voice changed to a different tone, one that was lower in tone and almost...lusty. "He pays you to join him in the hotel once a week, doesn't he?" "...How did you--" Barley blanched, eyes wide. Was she in trouble? "Don't worry, Barley, your secret is safe with me. I figured it out when I noticed the Mayor wasn't in his office the same time every week. At first I thought he was visitin' Petunia until I ran into her in the market. Then I saw you flying around the hotel, and well...it wasn't hard to piece together." Barley just nodded slowly, relieved that she wouldn't tell, but also terrified that it had been so easy for somepony to spot. A hoof on her back caught her attention. "How much does he pay you, Barley?" She asked gently. "Five bits. Sometimes six." She mumbled quietly, avoiding her gaze. She felt a little ashamed, avoiding eye contact. "So, if I pay you five bits to help save up for your present, you'll...let me do things to you, too?" Kerfuffle swallowed nervously and Barley blinked in confusion. She had been prepared for a lecture, but this was the opposite of what she'd been expecting! A grin flashed on the filly's muzzle, and she nodded. "Well, for five bits...sure! You can do whatever you want!" Barley flashed a toothy grin and relaxed back into the cushions. Kerfuffle was quiet, but Barley could feel her gaze over her young body, a heat rising in her cheeks as she stared. Barley obliged and spread her hind legs a little. "Do you, uh...do this sorta thing often? Other than with Mayor Sunny, that is," Kerfuffle leaned over, and in a final moment of bravery that Barley felt like she had waited forever for, put a hoof on one of Barley's legs. "Naah. Just when I need the bits," Barley stated plainly, eyes watching the mare curiously, sparkling with mischief. She squirmed in place just enough to cause Kerfuffle's hoof to slide down a little more, properly cupping her thigh now. Kerfuffle gulped, eyes gazing down to where her hoof was, and Barley spread her legs even further. She knew that Kerfuffle could absolutely see her fillyhood by now, and though Ponies were naked all the time it was certainly having an effect. They made eye contact and Barley smiled. "It's okay. You can touch me," Barley whispered, trying to appear as cute and innocent as possible, but in reality was waiting in desperate anticipation. She didn't have to wait long for the mare to oblige, hoof dipping between Barley's thighs and feeling her hot mound, pressing the frog of her hoof against her petals. Kerfuffle rubbed in a small circle, biting her lip as she toyed with the soft, young and supple flesh, prying about her folds to peek at her pink flesh underneath. Barley stifled a gasp and this seemed to earn Kerfuffle some confidence, and the mare became more deliberate in her touching. Barley spread her legs as wide as she could, and Kerfuffle leaned over to gaze upon her young sex. It was now glistening in anticipation. Prying apart her folds, Kerfuffle leaned further over and took a whiff of the air. She visibly shuddered. "Gosh, that's a cute pussy," Kerfuffle remarked, mostly to herself. She absentmindedly licked her lips and Barley bucked her hips. "C'mon," urged Barley, "stop teasing and get it over with!" This earned a wicked grin and a nod of understanding. Kerfuffle's hoof dipped between Barley's leg and she began to rub around more deliberately, brazenly and openly rubbing the filly off. She leaned toward Barley's face, a moment of eye contact shared that spoke enough unwritten language that gave Kerfuffle enough courage to close the distance and lock lips. They shared an intimate kiss, muzzles pressed against each other, despite the size difference, tongues darting forth to intertwine in the middle. Barley, fuelled by the passion of lust and the hoof that was rubbing her so erratically and lustfully between her legs, and Kerfuffle, aroused beyond any experience in her life as she played out her ultimate fantasy. Kerfuffle's free hoof began rubbing up and down the filly's side. Barley was obedient, keeping her thighs pressed around the hoof and grinding against it. Her scent filled the air--the scent of aroused filly. Sticky, clear juices coated Kerfuffle's hoof. The mare pulled it back, broke their erotic kiss, and without breaking eye contact, lapped the sticky hoof clean. Barley panted as she watched with rosey cheeks as the mare licked her juices off her hoof. Her legs were still spread wide. Kerfuffle winked at her before climbing off the sofa to sit on her haunches on the floor in front of the sofa and Barley. She perched herself between the filly's legs, the elevation of the sofa just enough that if the mare leaned forward and tilted her muzzle in the right way... With a muzzle pressed between her legs, wet smacks and slurps filling the room, Barley squeaked and groaned. Hooves held onto Kerfuffle's head instinctively, hips starting to grind against her. That wonderful, sloppy, wet tongue had wormed itself between her delicate lower lips and into her honeypoy, now hungrily lapping out of her therein. "Eeeek!" squealed Barley, both hooves on Kerfuffle's head, "K-kerfuffffle! Oh goooosh!" But the mare didn't let up, her expert tongue lashing about, driving up along her clit, pressing against all the right spots. She knew how to please a mare being one herself. She was showing Barley world's of pleasure the filly never thought possible being with only stallions. The air was filled with the sound of slurping and lapping until Kerfuffle shifted her muzzle over the budding filly nub and wrapped her lips around it. Using her tongue she lashed at it, slipping it in at it's widest point inside of the filly's opening repeatedly, slurping on that throbbing filly clit. With a loud moan Barley came, hips clenched around Kerfuffle's head, squeezing her in place as she squirted onto her muzzle, once, twice, and then she collapsed. But Kerfuffle didn't stop. When the filly thought she'd had enough, Kerfuffle was still hungrily driving away at Barley's clit. Her filly nub throbbed and spasmed and she tightened her hold again. "K-kerfuffle! Ahhh...Kerfuffle I already...Oh!" Despite her exhaustion or the fact that she'd clearly gotten off already twice, Barley squealed out louder than before, cumming harder than ever, and coating Kerfuffle with a third, and final, orgasm. She collapsed in a heap and lay down, her vision heavy and blurry. Kerfuffle finished cleaning her off before rising back up, laying on the sofa with a wing around the tired and exhausted filly. "You're a big squirter, y'know that?" Kerfuffle giggled, "I wasn't sure you were gonna cum like that at your age...but wow!" Barley mumbled in response, her head laying against Kerfuffle's side. She was barely staying awake after such a powerful orgasm. Kerfuffle pulled her tighter into a cuddle, pressing Barley to her chest. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" Kerfuffle stroked her mane, a hint of worry in her voice. Barley, despite being fatigued, rolled her eyes. "Nuh uh, of course not. I'm a big filly." "Of course you are. My mistake." A hoof stroked Barley's mane. As much as Kerfuffle wanted to stay, the mare had little time to spare. She pried herself out from the cuddle and draped a blanket over Barley's small, sleeping body. When the filly awoke, a small hoof-full of change was waiting for her on a table, along with a muffin for a snack. Barley placed the change into her coin purse, grabbed the muffin in her muzzle, and trotted out the back door.
The HoofingtonsBarley jingled the small coinpurse tucked away under her wing. It felt good to have some bits to her name, even if it wasn't yet enough for the ultimate present for Pickle. Still, it had been a successful day. She doubted the filly scout's in the big cities were able to make the kind of bits she'd managed to stow away. She vaguely wondered if cookies would sell around their little town when she heard some familiar bickering behind a nearby fence. They had been arguing about apricots before the topic quickly turned to complaining about the neighbours. Barley recognized the Upscale Manehattan accents almost immediately. An idea springing to mind, she jumped into the air and hovered just above the fence. "Mister and Missus Hoofinton!" She exclaimed loudly, to which the Unicorn couple jumped to a start. "Yes, Barley. How may we--" "Apricots! I can reach the top of the tree, and help you pick them. For a few bits, of course..." She cut off the stallion before he could finish her sentence as she fluttered down to the soft grass in their yard, inviting herself in. Mr. Hoofington simply rolled his eyes. "Magic, darling. We can pick them ourselves plenty fine, thank you!" He was abrupt and curt, standing up and ready to shoe her away before his wife stopped him. She gave him a glare, something was whispered between them, and before Barley knew it the stallion had sat back down. "...Did you say you were in need of bits, sweetheart?" the mare interjected. She watched Barley with an intrigued smirk in the corner of her muzzle. "As my husband said, we don't need help picking Apricots, but perhaps there is another way we could...make an arrangement?" The air inside the Hoofington's home was stale and dry. Barley licked her dry lips and sipped at a glass of water as she gazed around the upscale kitchen. All new countertops, fancy appliances. The Hoofington's certainly wanted any and everypony who visited to know they were an important family back where they were from. Harsh whispers echoed from the adjoining room and Barley attempted to listen, swivelling her ears this way and that, trying to pick up key words, but nothing was decipherable. Her patience, however, was rewarded when the Hoofington's walked back into the room. Mr. Hoofington took the long way around the kitchen, walking around behind Barley with his eyes glued to her. She felt like he would bore a hole through her body. Mrs. Hoofington, on the contrary, walked in front of Barley at the Kitchen counter and put on an icy smile. "Twenty bits!" announced the mare, her eyes never leaving Barley, "for doing what we say and keeping it our secret. I assume you know the drill what with the other ponies in town?" Barley was left aghast and surprised. How had they known about her dealings with the other ponies? As if reading her mind, Mrs. Hoofington continued. "Oh, we know. Word gets around. But rest assured your secret it safe with us, darling. Now come along!" She clapped her hooves together and Barley felt herself being whisked away. The rest of the Hoofington house was much alike the kitchen. Dry, expensive, eloquent. Little expense was spared in decoration but to Barley it resembled more of the sterile, clean hallways of a hospital than a place where somepony lived. Mrs. Hoofington lead them through the Living Room and up the staircase while her Husband stayed behind. Up the stairs, down a hallway and passed closed doors and a startingly white bathroom that seemed to sparkle. Barley observed several picture frames that hung on the walls with younger-looking Hoofington's and a third young mare through different stages of her life. The end of the hall was their destination, and Mrs. Hoofington promptly opened the door to a small bedroom. Much of it was adorned in pink, from the princess-themed bedspread to a large plushie collection and the curtains on the window. Barley didn't need to hear what the mare said next; she knew for whom this room belonged to. "Our daughter's room," Mrs. Hoofington stated, pointing out the obvious, "She moved away to university last year. Her absence has been sorely felt around here, particularly by my Husband." Barley started to see where she was going, but said nothing as she walked around the room. Being a tomboy herself, the lavish girlishness of it all made her sick. How could anypony like all this? "...And she's a brilliant student from what she has written to us, but her letters are so few and far in-between." Mrs. Hoofington continued droning on about how magnificent their daughter was. Barley's lack of attention and obvious boredom earned her a sharp glare, and the mare carried on. "But nevertheless, that's all you need to know. She is prim and proper, good and school, and does what she's told. I expect you know at least a thing or two about that. Goodness, your hooves are filthy, get off the bed!" She shouted and Barley nearly jumped out of her skin, quickly sliding back down to the floor. Her hooves made contact with the soft carpet soundlessly. "Listen," the mare rubbed the bridge of her nose and looked down in frustration. "Go wash yourself. She would never have dirtied herself like some colt. When you are finished you will put on the dress I have laid out for you and wait on the bed. And don't even think about wearing that disgusting hat. You have twenty minutes. Mr Hoofington will join us shortly. Do as you are told and be a good filly, keep your mouth shut and call him 'Daddy' a few times and you will get your bits. Now run along!" Barley did as she was told. She trudged to the sparkling bathroom and ran a bath while she quietly undressed herself of her beloved beanie and shirt. When the tub was partly full and deemed warm enough, she climbed over the side and slid into the water. The shampoo they had was much too flowery and girly for her liking, and she knew she would hear about it from Pickle later, but she decided not to complain. She methodically washed each of her hooves, making sure to clear the dirt from her frogs. She lathered up her mane with soap, rinsing it off. Her wings, too, received an extra cleaning. After she'd pulled the cork on the basin and watched the now-dirty water descend into the drain, Barley grabbed a nearby fluffy towel--which she begrudgingly noticed was pink--and dried herself off. Her fur, still damp in places, poofed out. She quickly ran a brush through her mane to save herself from any complaints about that, either. Twenty bits was a lot of money, she decided, and would be more than enough to allow her to get the present for Pickle, with enough leftover for lunch. She left her clothes on the bathroom floor as she trudged back to the bedroom, impatient to get this over with, while morbidly curious as to what Mrs. Hoofington had picked out for her. When she saw the frilly pink dress that had been laid out for her, she nearly blanched. It was so far gone from anything Barkley would ever be caught dead in that she felt like somepony was playing a cruel joke. Begrudgingly, and with disgust in herself, she wiggled into the dress, noticing the lack of holes for her wings, how it tightened around her flanks to accentuate her figure. The one redeeming quality was that it had straps around her shoulders rather than sleeves or frilly cuffs. Aside from that, Barley questioned why anypony would ever wear such an ugly garment. A voice from the corner of the room mumbled its praise and Barley realized that Mrs. Hoofington had been sitting there this whole time, watching from a chair. They made eye contact but neither said anything. Barley knew what was expected of her. Biting her lip and pushing down aside her inhibitions about the strange situation, she laid down on her belly, drawing close to herself a small teddy bear that had been placed by the pillow, and waited. She didn't have to wait long. The sound of hoofsteps coming up the stairs echoed through the silent anticipation that hung around the room. She could practically hear his every step as he neared closer and closer to the door. He waited outside for a brief moment, then knocked. Without waiting for a reply he then turned the doorknob with his magic and swung it aside. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon the filly laid across his daughter's bed. Barley found herself blushing as he stared at her so intensely for what felt like long minutes. Eventually, he walked in, stepping around the bed to gaze all around her, using his magic to toy with the dress, lifting it up, pulling it about, ruffling the frills. "You look just like her," he breathed. He didn't even acknowledge his wife as he took a step closer to the bed, lifting a forehoof to touch one of Barley's rear ones. He cleared his throat at last and spoke louder, "...I hear you're doing well at school, darling." "Yes, Daddy," was Barley's response, following his wife's instruction to not say much. Mr. Hoofington's ear twitched and he grinned wide. He liked that, if the rapidly swelling length under him was any indication. "Good girl." His voice hung thick in the air as he gazed at her with a predatory grin. The hoof on her hind leg started to drift up, sliding under her dress. Barley gulped and huddled the teddy bear close to herself, doing her best impression of a cute, innocent little filly that wasn't about to get railed by her father. What a messed up family this had to of been. "And you've been making lots of friends?" His hoof slid up and up, bunching up her dress around her backside, touching her thighs. "Making your teachers happy?" "Yes, Daddy," said Barley again, closing her eyes as his hoof finally made contact with her young slit. He cupped her soft, puffy folds in his hoof and massaged in circles, trailing around the outside of her mound, teasing her in the most wondrous of ways. The air hung thick with the scent of stallion. Suddenly her dress was pulled back abruptly, both of Mr. Hoofington's hooves planting on her rump under the fabric of her clothing. He mounted the bed and dove under her dress, his muzzle stealing away to her secret place underneath of her dress, between her legs. All of a sudden he was kissing her with wet smacks, his tongue dancing around her outer folds and just teasing the pink, budding flesh between her soft lips. Dancing between them, up and down, at a feverent place. Barley stifled a moan into the teddy bear as her body trembled and reacted positively to the stallion's ministrations. She vaguely wondered if he did this to his real daughter, or if this was some sort of sick fantasy of his. Either way, he was bucking good with his tongue. Barley felt a familiar warmth starting to build deep in her tummy, a hot stickiness forming between her legs, before being eagerly lapped up by the Mr. Hoofington's roaming tongue. Before Barley had a chance to let out another moan, her clenching pussy on the verge of a powerful wink, Mr. Hoofington pulled away. She felt herself getting sticky again already, her tail obediently flagged up and over her back. Mr. Hoofington admired her cushy rear for a moment and dived right back in, but this time focused on the puckered ring just above. Barley squeaked as she felt a foreign, wet appendage probing at her little tailhole. She'd never even so much as experimented before there. What was he doing! Didn't he know what kind of place that was! But before she even had a chance to let out a protest, he'd wormed his tongue past her ring and was now probing her deep inside. She squeaked and jolted in place, earning a chuckle from the stallion behind her. "There's a good girl. Just let it alllll out." He spoke between slurps and licking, alternating between sloppy, wet kisses to her puckered tailhole and her waiting, tiny little fillyhood that winked in his face, drooling excited filly juices onto his chin. "Eeeek!" Barley moaned out, unable to muffle herself with her Teddy any longer. "D-daaaadyyy!" She squealed. She came while he had his muzzle back on her snatch and rewarded him with a burst of excited filly juices all over his face and chin. Coming down from her orgasm, Barley recognized her own scent filling the room, mixing with that of the stallion, but there was another. Her eyes looked back to the corner and she realized that Mrs. Hoofington was also touching herself, her marehood exposed with a forehoof between her legs, rubbing away. They made eye contact and the mare came, squirting onto the pink chair and her hoof. The bed squeaked behind Barley as Mr. Hoofington rose up, his average-sized stallionhood coming into full view and blocking out the light of a nearby lamp, blackening her vision. He was stroking himself eagerly, eyes glued to her flank. His free hoof held to her rear, he started to point himself down, getting ready to line himself up... ...and Barley's vision was blocked by that of Mrs. Hoofington, who'd crossed the room without Barley noticing. A hoof on Barley's head, she was redirected in front of her, her muzzle pushed right into Mrs. Hoofington's dripping slit. Barley obediently tilted her muzzle forward, sticking out her tongue and preparing herself to lap up all the mare's juices... ...when a distinct pressure was placed against her tailhole, still wet from the stallion's tongue. She realized instantly what the pressure belonged to, and though she couldn't see it, she knew what was about to happen. He was going to take her ass. Fearfully, Barley tried to lift her head but she was locked in place by Mrs. Hoofington's surprisingly strong hooves. She was given a push and her little muzzle was pressed right up against the winking slit in front of her. And and her anal virginity was taken in an instant. The stallion above groaned as he pushed inside, past her ring, spreading her apart and impaling her oh-so-tight rump on his thick, meaty stallionhood. Barley squealed in surprise but was muffled as the mare started to grind herself on her muzzle. Blinking away the pain of initial penetration Barley attemped to lap and lick around Mrs. Hoofington's inner canal, exploring with her tiny tongue, trying to pay extra attention to her little nub. Her own rump wiggled back and forth once to adjust herself. Suddenly, it was like Mr. Hoofington had forgotten about being gentle. A hoof planted itself on the bed next to her and he started to buck wildly, dragging his cock along her walls as he pulled himself in and out so crudely. Muzzle buried in a mare's snatch, stallion rutting away at her tailhole, Barley had never been fucked quite so thoroughly. If this is what the Hoofington's had done to their daughter, there was no real wonder why she had wanted to leave for college. Still, Barley had to admit that it felt strangely good being used like some thing, a playtoy, an object for sexual gratification. Both forehooves placed next to Barley, Mr. Hoofington began bucking in rapid, deep thrusts. Mrs. Hoofington held Barley's head and pushed her so much deeper that the filly could barely breathe. All Barley knew was pleasing them, both ends of her desperately trying to keep up with what was demanded of her. Both adults on either side became more erratic. It couldn't be much longer. Mr. Hoofington bent over and began thrusting with wild abandon. Mrs. Hoofington started to grind herself on Barley's muzzle. "Gods, you're so tight. What a good girl." Mr Hoofington put a hoof on Barley's back, his hips colliding with her rear in loud slaps. "Yesss, keep licking Momma like that. Ohhh..." Mrs. Hoofington threw her head back, squealing into the air, a single hoof ruffling Barley's mane. Both adults came at the same time and Barley barely knew what was happening. Her vision was mostly black, perhaps due to her obstructed views, or maybe it was the lack of oxygen. Her rear felt sore and thoroughly used, but also tingly and hot as Mr. Hoofington unloaded his thick, virile seed deep into her gut. Mrs. Hoofington squirted burst after burst of marecum onto Barley's face. And Barley, despite being used like a plaything with little regard for her own comfort and pleasure, and despite no attention to her fillyhood whatsoever...came all over the dress and sheets. It was the best orgasm of her life. Then she promptly passed out. The Hoofington's, recovering from their collective orgasm, panting for air, looked at each other in amazement and extreme satisfaction. "Did she just cum?" "I think she did. What a slut." Barley was awoken sharply a few moments later when the Hoofington's started to undress her. She was given the chance to bathe and clean herself again, which she did promptly and sleepily, redressed herself, and met them downstairs at the Kitchen Table oncemore. A hefty bag of bits awaited her. Barley eyed it hungrily. "For the best service we've had in a long time. You played the part perfectly," said Mr. Hoofington. "I trust this stay between us," Mrs. Hoofington eyed Barley suspiciously. Barley took the bits and counted them. Fifty-two bits, far more than she expected. She looked between the couple in disbelief. "That's an extra treat for an extra special filly. Now, be on your way!" Barley was whisked away out of the house and found herself on the streets once again, with far more bits than she'd needed, feeling strange about the events that had befallen her. What a weird family. What a weird day. At least now she had enough bits for Pickle's present.
Pickle BarrelBarley and Pickle sat together in the family living room, each holding a wrapped present in their laps. The twins looked at each other with giddy excitement, both eager to see the other open the present they'd gotten for the other. "You go first!" Pickle grinned. Barley tore open the packaging and squealed with delight. It was a Wonderbolt-themed scarf. It looked like a real scarf a Wonderbolt would wear, really top quality. "Piiiiiickle! Wheredidyougetthis! Oh my gosh!" She squealed again, grabbing her brother in a crushing hug. "Heh, it was nothing sis! I had it special ordered all the way from Manehattan!" He reached down to open his present, ready for the usual yearly routine, He grabbed the wrapping paper and the bow and tore it open. His eyes went wide. "No. Way. You got me a JOY BOY! Sis! Eeee!" It was his turn to grab his sister into a crushing hug, squeezing her in a bone-crushing hug. "Best birthday gift ever! Where did you even get the bits for this!" "I, uh...saved my allowance and did some chores around town. No biggie!" The siblings embraced again, both cradling their respective gifts. Later that evening, the siblings were curled up on Pickle's bed. Pickle was plugging away at his new Joy Boy console while Barley watched, head on his shoulder. There was something else on her mind, thinking about the day's activities. "Hey Pickle?" She nosed at his shoulder and mumbled. "Yeah, Sis? Whoa, did you see that!" "Yeah, that was cool! But, there's actually a second part of your gift." "There is?" Pickle glanced at her, confused. Barley bit her lip. "Yeah. Just wait." The filly wiggled down the bed while Pickle gave her curious glances between playing his game. Barley wiggled down and down, until she was at level with his waist. Outstretching a hoof, she placed it on his thigh, snaking it inward, toward his crotch and made contact with his sheath. Pickle jumped, his eyes wide. He wasn't stupid. He knew what she was doing. "Sis, I..." "Shut up. I want to do this." That shut Pickle up. He barely paid attention to the game as he watched is sister move her hoof over his sheath, cupping his balls, toying with his small coinpurse. Pickle was a young colt and was just starting to go through certain changes. Mainly, they involved having a constant overactive part of his body. He'd touched himself once or twice in the past, when Barley wasn't there. As a result, his little member was quick to grow out of its sheath. It throbbed to full mast in almost an instant. Pickle was about to stop her. To tell her she didn't have to do this, that he still liked her as his sister. Or, at least, that's what he told himself until he felt her hot, wet mouth envolop his length, her lips closing around the head of his colthood. "Oh Siiiiis~" Pickle moaned as Barley started to fellate him properly, slowly moving back and forth, tugging at his sensitive skin with her lips. Her tongue lapped at him, slurping on him. Each time she pulled back she descended down again, going deeper each time and threatening to pop into her throat. It wasn't long before Pickle placed his hooves on Barley's head, moaning into the air. He wouldn't last long like this...couldn't last long. His member was trembling and throbbing already, Barley's hoof rubbing at his balls no help at all. He exploded with little warning, sending white hot bursts of colt cum spattering to the back of her throat, inside her muzzle, and as she pulled back, all over her face. Barley emerged, sputtering for air, but otherwise looking satisfied. She gave Pickle a grin. "How was it, Pickle?" "Wow, Sis. This is the best birthday EVER!"
