Winners Finish Last

Day Three

“So, darlings, you see, the backstitch pattern is one of the most fundamental to making hoof- or claw-sewn garments. Needle and thread go into the hole. Yes, just like so,” Professor Rarity said, as she demonstrated with an oversize needle. The needle stuck halfway through the fabric. “The thicker part can get stuck on the hole. Don’t be afraid to apply a little pressure. Just thrust on through!” She nodded as the needle slipped through.

Sandbar raised a frantic hoof. “Professor? May I be excused? Please!”

Rarity quirked an eyebrow at the young stallion’s urgency but nodded.

Sandbar shot out of the room before his growing arousal could embarrass him. He made it to the hallway and slowed to a stop. Stupid bet. He was so horny that even a suggestion of something phallic going into a hole gave him a raging boner. He leaned against the wall and let the coolness of the crystal structure sink into this muscles, hoping it would wick away his horniness.

The sound of urgently-flapping wings caused Sandbar to look up from his momentary reprieve. Gallus was flying off towards the restroom, his back legs clenched together tightly. The stallion laughed to himself and trotted after the griffon in pursuit. Gallus slammed open the restroom door and darted in. Sandbar caught the door as it was swinging shut.

Gallus turned on the faucet and began splashing clawfuls of water into his face.

“Having a hard time?” Sandbar asked with a smirk.

“Stupid AJ and her stupid lectures about stupid apples,” the griffon ranted.

The pony tilted his head in confusion. “Apples got you going?”

“Seeds!” the griffon said in exasperation. “She kept going on about seed! Collecting it, burying it, ugh!” the griffon moaned, clenching his back legs together.

Sandbar cleared his throat uncomfortably. Usually he’d think Gallus was being ridiculous, but at the moment all he could imagine was the griffon collecting some stallion seed. Or having Gallus bury his seed deep inside him. Sandbar grunted and bit his tongue, letting the pain push back his arousal.

The griffon rounded on him, water still dripping from his beak. “What’s your excuse, then?”

Sandbar laughed uncomfortably. “Sewing,” he explained.

Gallus rolled one claw in circles in the air, motioning for the pony to elaborate.

The stallion felt himself blushing. “Long, pointy thing going into a tight hole?” He felt his arousal building again, pushing him out from his sheath. “Its thick base sometimes gets stuck on the hole, and you have to apply some pressure to…” he swallowed roughly, “pop it in.” He felt his cock slap against his stomach. “Oh Light,” he muttered miserably.

The only consolation was that Gallus looked like he was in a similar state of disarray. His cheeks had taken on a rosy hue right under his eyes and his back legs were still clenched together tightly.

“Y-you know,” Sandbar said slowly, trying to ignore the way his dick bobbed below him, ignoring his conscious minds desperate pleas for calm, “we could j-just move the deadline to tonight?”

A claw poked him in the chest. “Ohhh no,” Gallus said, a smug look on his face. “You’re not getting out that easy, leaky little pony.”

Sandbar groaned, knowing the griffon was right about the “leaky” part.

“We’ve got seven more days to go.”

“Six and a half,” Sandbar protested mildly.

Gallus rubbed his beak against the side of the pony’s muzzle, sliding forward until his mouth was beside the pony’s ear. “But who’s counting?” he whispered.

Day Six

Gallus woke up with a raging hard-on. A fully out-of-his-sheath, slopping wet, knot throbbing kind of hard-on. A hard-on that was pressed up against his favorite pony’s almost-as-firm dick.

Gallus moaned softly and watched Sandbar’s eyes flutter open. The stallion blew out of an unsteady breath. “Uhhhh,” the pony said, confusion and arousal evident in his tone, “what’re you doing?”

Gallus focused on relaxing his wings, which had stretched out the sheets covering them. “Cuddling you,” he said.

Sandbar whimpered. “With your dick?” He squirmed, causing their stiff members to rub together. “N-not that I’m complaining.”

Gallus moaned, and then drew himself back. He cursed himself for his discipline. “No touching!” he chided.

Sandbar sighed. “You started it! I was sleeping,” he pouted.

The griffon stuck out his tongue. “So was I!”

Sandbar nodded. “W-we could always, you know… cut to the chase.”

Gallus grinned and ignored the way his cock lurched at the suggestion. “You’re gonna look so cute in a dress.”

The pony’s eyes narrowed. “Shut up. I’m going to win. And then I’m going to have you do a little dance in your maid outfit. Watch you shake that furry butt and hrrng,” he groaned, his gray cock lurching and wetting the bedsheets between them with clear fluid.

Gallus had to use every ounce of restraint not to lick the stallion's fluids off the bed. His staff ached with need. “I need a cold shower,” he said, scrambling out of bed. It was impossible to ignore the feeling of his tumescent staff swinging below him as he leapt off the bed, each movement taking him nearly to the edge, no claw needed. Four more days, he told himself, suppressing a shudder. Four more days.

Day Eight

Sandbar had gotten hard during his shower, despite having the water cold enough that he was shivering by the time he was done. He had popped a stiffy at breakfast hearing Yona talk about her workout routine. He had barely gotten it to go down by the time his friends left the table. He had dropped out of his sheath on the walk to class, while thinking about homework. Homework! He had spent several minutes with his lower half glued to a bench until it retracted. Then he’d gotten hard watching Professor Fluttershy shake her rump while her birds were singing in class. Sandbar had had to thank Celestia that they had actually been using desks for once instead of just sitting on cushions like they did half the time in Kindness class.

He had snuck back to his room after that. He rubbed a hoof across his sheath and was unsurprised that it came back sticky. The touch ignited a flurry of excitement in his neglected member. “Ugh, no, no, no,” he whined as he felt his cock drop free into the air. “Not again.” In a moment of irrational horniness, he licked his sticky hoof. He whimpered. He loved the way he tasted. Gallus had helped him learn to love his own taste: the pony had learned so much about himself as him and Gallus exchanged each other’s various fluids on a nearly nightly basis. Sandbar had learned that he tasted very different than the griffon. Gallus’ precum reminded him of autumnal woods—maple syrup and dried leaves and a fresh breeze. His own taste was much earthier, saltier. Like being at the seaside, an ocean mist, Gallus had once said. The stallion moaned, thinking about his boyfriend, and he keened at the temporary loss of their intimacy.

Sandbar whimpered as he felt his flared staff slap up against his chest wetly. He cursed loudly.

He could get off. He could hoof off right then and there and be done with the silly game. Wearing a Prench maid outfit and doing all the cleaning for a week would be worth it, surely. He reached a front hoof slowly downward and bit his lip.

“No,” he said aloud. His hoof continued to drift lower, moving with a mind of its own, born of the chemical cocktail of sexual frustration and neglect. “No!” he said again, stomping the hoof down onto the floor. The movement caused his midsection to twist slightly, causing his dick to lurch side-to-side, leaking fluid down between his legs. He told himself he could do it—he could make it to the end of this blighted game without breaking.

Earth ponies had a reputation as being stubborn. Sandbar grit his teeth, ready, if not eager, to embrace the stereotype.

Day Nine

“What do you mean you’re not going to class?” the green stallion asked.

Gallus crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m calling in sick.”

Sandbar gave a small laugh. “You may have some sick curves on that butt of yours, but you’re not sick.”

Gallus groaned as he watched the tip of the stallion’s gray member slip down between his back legs. “Fine, whatever, I’m calling in horny.”

The stallion whinnied, his eyes going wide. “Can we do that?”

Gallus grunted, peeling his eyes away from the pony’s lengthening shaft. He felt his own erection stretching the skin of his sheath. “At this point it’s that or be expelled for jerking off in class.”

Sandbar laughed in shock. And arousal. Shit, his subconscious thought, deflect! Distract! “Y-yeah,” he said aloud, “I don’t think Headmare Twilight would be happy about that.”

“Ugh,” Gallus groaned. “Now I’m thinking about jerking off.”

Alarm bells rang in the earth pony’s mind. They were echoed by a jangling excitement in his nether region. “OKAY LOVE YOU, BYE!” the stallion shouted as he galloped out of their room. Sandbar raced into the bathroom, skidding somewhat on the slick tile, and bolted into an unoccupied shower stall. He yanked the handle on with his mouth and yelped as the cold water splashed onto this back. He shivered miserably, wondering if he could get hypothermia from too many cold showers.

At least his erection had faded.

…Mostly. His tail flicked in irritation, and he turned to let the icy water assault his backside.