Like Mare, Like Filly

Spruce let himself in the squeaky garden gate and approached the porch via a cobbled path lined with rosebushes. He spied both the brass knocker and the hoof-friendly doorbell early enough to resolve the internal conflict over which to use. Obvious choice, really. Knockers are ornamental. A doorbell can be heard even when the family is out the back.

Bing…bong.

The sound did indeed come from deep inside the house. Spruce waited a few seconds in silence, and for a moment wondered whether he had the date and time right. Celeste had sent the invitation via private text, so he’d had to copy it manually to his calendar.

Clopping hooves. Quiet ones, stepping lightly on hardwood floors. He detected shadows moving on the other side of the opaque glass doorframe before he heard a bolt clunk and a safety chain rattle.

The door opened a crack on the chain, and a green eye peeked out through the gap.

“Hey, Rose,” Spruce said. “It’s me, Mr. Spruce. Did Mom tell you I was coming over?”

The door clunked shut, the chain rattled, and a moment later it was pulled wide by a beaming Rose, looking radiant in a green and white cheerleader skirt and pony crop-top. “Hi, Mr. Spruce.” Her mane was done up in some kind of elaborate braid that probably had a name.

“Wow, cheerleader. You made the squad?”

Rose wrinkled her nose. “Tryouts aren’t till next month, but Mom says I’ll get plenty of use out of it at Camp Everfree even if I get cut.”

Spruce smiled and shook his head. “I wouldn’t worry, sweetie. Something tells me you won’t get cut.” There might be prettier girls in Rose’s middle school, but none as adorable. “Hey, can I come in?”

Rose pulled the door wide and stood aside.

“I love your mane,” Spruce said, touching it on the way through.

She shut the door behind him. “It’s a mermaid braid,” she said, leading him down a long central hallway. “Mom helped.”

“You look beautiful.” Spruce watched her ass all the way down the hallway, the flimsy cheerleader skirt sat high over her flicking tail, flashing her ass and tantalizing glimpses of her money-box. He felt the first stirrings of a hard-on.

Rose led him through a set of double-doors into an open-plan family area, with a dining table and chairs, a warm TV area surrounded by sofas, and a modern, white kitchen off to the side. “Mom, Mr. Spruce is here to finish off our thing.”

Celeste was in the kitchen, separated from the living area by a breakfast counter. “Hi, Mr. Spruce.”

“Just Timber will do.”

Rose went to the dining-room side of the counter where she had a little plastic step set up, bringing her up to a comfortable height to work at the counter. She took up a vegetable peeler connected to a hoof-strap and resumed work on a half-peeled potato.

“You found the place okay?” Celeste asked, opening the obligatory chitty-chat. Spruce had done a few home-visits like this one. They were almost always awkward, being less formal, but things usually loosened up by the time he got their daughters’ legs open.

“God bless Google Maps,” he said, pulling out a straight-backed chair. He laid his bag on the table and sat a few feet behind Rose, intending to enjoy her lovely ass some more. “I love your house. Is it just you two?”

“Rose’s brother Ben is staying with a friend.” Celeste gave him a wink. “I told him we were watching Frozen.”

Spruce laughed, suddenly remembering where he’d seen Rose’s hairstyle before—not from the movie, but from the countless animations on Pornhub of Queen Elsa getting her tiny, hairless cunt reamed.

“Can we, though, Mom?” Rose ventured. “Watch a movie?”

“We’ve got a guest, Rosebud. I don’t think Mr. Spruce came over to watch Disney.”

“Yeah, but after we’ve had sex…”

Celeste smiled apologetically at Spruce, who waved it off. “No, don’t worry about it,” he said. “That is why I came. Are you looking forward to it, Rose?”

Rose looked over her shoulder and gave him a smile that was all braces, and, he noticed for the first time, lipstick. “I’ve been taking the pills, one in the morn—”

“Uh-uh-uh!” Spruce and Celeste silenced her with stop-sign hands from both directions. Rose’s face fell, distraught she’d done something wrong without knowing what.

“Sweetie,” Spruce said, “we don’t talk about the pills, not even with your friends.” He zipped his fingers across his lips and threw away the imaginary key. Rose nodded warily and copied the gesture.

It’d be Celeste’s job to discreetly let the johns know that Rose had a stent. Spruce had provided the pills to Celeste, of course, not Rose, but he would also fit the stent—probably later that evening—so it was a flimsy defense that wouldn’t hold up to close inspection in a court.

“Have you been practicing, Rose?” Spruce asked, getting the conversation back on topic.

Rose nodded, turning back to her potato peeling. “Mom and I have been doing it after Benji’s bedtime. Just, you know, with our mouths. Mom likes when I eat her out.” Rose wiggled her ass proudly, flipping her tail and flashing what Spruce thought might have been a flash of smooth pussy lips.

“I bet she does,” he said, crossing his legs and stretching the top one out to lift Rose’s skirt. “I remember how good at it you were the first time. You must be amazing now you’ve had practice.”

Celeste caught Spruce’s eye and nodded. “Amazing, is right. I’ve retired my Magic Wand.”

Spruce got his toe under Rose’s skirt and watched her tail slowly swish back and forth across that delectable spot where her legs met. There it was, her pussy, tiny, tight and hairless, tucked up high in her thigh-gap. He was instantly hard for her.

“Mr. Spruce…Timber,” Celeste went on, “will you stay for supper?”

Rose for appetizer, Celeste for dessert—or maybe both together. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” Spruce hadn’t taken a Viagra, so a break between courses would be welcome.

“I wanted to get your thoughts on a few options for…you know, marketing. Beyond Everfree, I mean.”

Spruce smiled. It seemed they were on the same page. With the stent, Rose would suddenly become premium product. “Spruce could place her in some well-paying gigs at Everfree, but Rose needed to find the big leagues—wealthy men who longed to feel their cockhead slip past her cervix, to drop a load directly in her young womb. Men like that would pay a fabled king’s ransom. “Have you considered going through the school system?” he replied, making sure of his guess. “If Rose is trying out for cheerleaders, she might get a scholarship to a human school.” The schools facilitated pony prostitution ostensibly for the fillies’ protection, but it was really for the 10% cut they took. It was the only reason the scholarships existed.

Celeste wrinkled her nose. “Mmm, that was the plan, but then…” She zippered her lips and rolled her eyes playfully. “It just seems like a waste, if you get my meaning.”

“Loud and clear,” Spruce said, understanding Celeste planned on turning Roseluck’s stent into some major cash. “The extra five G’s is a big motivator.”

Celeste’s eyes bulged. “Five?”

Spruce laughed. “That’s just the premium a stent will fetch on top of the base. And it goes up from there if Rose gets certified to Level-2 or 3.”

Celeste seemed surprised. He reckoned that once she got Rose’s college fund loaded up, she might be planning a Las Pagasus vacation to celebrate. “Good God,” she said, taking the peeled potatoes from Rose to wash them. “Where do we find people who can afford that?”

“At school,” he said, nodding when she frowned in disbelief. “You’d be surprised.” Spruce stood and moved next to Rose at the bench, placing his hand on her ass. It fit perfectly in just the one hand. “Fillies like Rose”—he winked, implying ‘fillies with a stent’—“are prized. And most of them aren’t nearly as pretty.” He squeezed Rose’s ass and smiled down at her. “They’ll come find you,” he said, directing his attention back to Celeste. “Especially if they see her in the cheer squad but not for sale.”

“Won’t the school be suspicious if she’s not…making herself available?”

Spruce shrugged. “Not if they’re compensated.”

Celeste looked shocked. “I’m supposed to offer them a bri—”

“Uh-uh!” Spruce held up a hand to silence her—the one not fondling Rose’s ass. “Nothing untoward. You still bank whatever you charge via their account. Sticker rate for the first game or two, then when word gets around and a queue begins to form, you make a silent auction of it. The school gets their cut, so they’re more than happy. Then you ask if you can drop Rose from the roster but keep your charge-account open. If they say yes, you say thank you, wait for the whales to find you, and keep banking through the school account whatever you make at the game.”

Rose looked up at Spruce. “Are we talking about having sex for money?”

Spruce smiled. “Yes, sweetie.” He lifted her skirt and cupped her bare bottom, the middle finger finding the soft meeting point where her rump curved up into her pussy.

“I don’t really know how to do it yet,” Rose said. “Does that mean we won’t make as much money?”

“Not in the slightest,” Spruce said, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. “In fact, most men like a filly who’s just learning. If you’re good at play-acting, you can pretend it’s your first time even when it’s not.”

That silenced her for the moment, and a look came over her face suggesting this was her first realization that sex was more multi-layered than she imagined. He moved his hand down and stroked her pussy. She wasn’t wet yet, but she welcomed his touch, rising on the points of her hooves, and Spruce figured some fragrant pre-teen musk was probably not far away.

“And that works?” Celeste asked.

“What, pretending you’re a virgin? Sure, I mean, you have to—”

“No, the thing with the school. Going off-roster and waiting for people to ask.”

“Not every game. And especially not at Rose’s price. She’s a unicorn—metaphorically speaking—pretty, petite, and she’s very, very tight. She’s going to be popular until she hits puberty, and even then, if she stays smooth…” He teased a bead of juice from Rose’s cunt and was using it to spread and separate her plump pussy lips, greasing her whole slit without touching her clit. “Ten’s gonna be entry price,” he went on. “You’ll need to hunt if you’re looking for proper whales, but you should find a handful of regulars that Rose likes, who’ll pay for something extra.”

“You mean like a fantasy?” Celeste asked, adjusting the temperature on the oven. “Isn’t she already the fantasy, though? The school-aged pony, or the cheerleader?”

“Or the kid sister,” Spruce said, waving his free hand speculatively. “Or the daughter.” He tickled Rose’s soft opening without penetrating her. “Don’t let species be a barrier. Rose, do you think you could pretend a man you were having sex with was your father?”

“Daddy, don’t,” Rose hissed, sotto voce. “You’re not supposed to be touching me…”—she rolled her eyes—“down there.”

Spruce and Celeste laughed together, out loud and from the belly. Rose was a natural. Spruce was already hard, but the look of daughterly betrayal in her eyes when she’d called him out made his dick lurch with desperate want.

“I saw that on YouClop,” she explained, smiling proudly.”

Celeste frowned. “So, incest fantasies are where it’s at, huh?”

Spruce waggled his hand—comme ci comme ça. “Incest fantasies are just another variation on a costume,” Spruce explained. “Cheerleader, first communion, school uniform. Her behavior—reluctant, curious, Lolita—that’s another layer, and so is the relationship. She can be a lost pony seeking help from a stranger, a daughter, an exchange student—they’re all part of your base offering.”

“Sorry, I don’t get it.” Celeste drizzled olive oil over the vegetables in a roasting pan and put them in the oven. “I thought the fantasies were all extra.”

Spruce worked a fingertip into Rose’s hole, making her gasp and double over on the kitchen counter. “Proper fantasies are bigger—all afternoon, or even all night.” He stopped fingering for a moment. “Rose, what would you think if a man wanted to pretend to be your dad and take you to Pony Island. You could go on rides and stuff together, eat candy-floss—you know, normal family stuff.”

Rose pursed her lips in thought. “Do we have to have sex at Pony Island?”

“No, no. Nothing like that. But he might want you to sit on his lap on the Ferris wheel, and if no one was watching, he might touch you a little.” Spruce used the hand not in Rose’s pussy to demonstrate, cradling her ribcage and stroking her breasts.

“Is that all?” She looked from Spruce to Celeste, then back again. “And I’d get free candy-floss?”

“Yes, free candy-floss,” Spruce said, laughing. “And you’d get paid. “But you’d also have to give him a BJ and have sex when you got home.”

Rose thought it over. “And I’d have to call him Daddy and pretend I didn’t want to do it?”

“Or pretend whatever he asks for,” Spruce explained. “Some men like a Lolita. Do you know what that is?”

Rose shook her head.

“It’s when he pretends he doesn’t want to, and you have to talk him into it.”

Rose bit her lip, suppressing a smile. “Like by letting him see up my skirt?”

Spruce had a moment of realization. The cheerleader skirt, Rose standing up on the plastic step—he’d been played by a twelve-year-old. Sure, he’d come with the intention of molesting her anyway, but in truth, the finger in her pussy wasn’t his doing, it was hers.

Celeste came to the counter opposite Rose and held both her hooves. “So the more elaborate the fantasy, the more…valuable? If it was a Mommy and Daddy thing, like a family outing…”

“Exactly what I’m talking about,” Spruce said, fucking Rose deeper, working his knuckle through her opening.

Rose moaned and sank lower on the counter, and Celeste pulled her forelegs straight, stretching her out like on a spanking horse. The idea of Rose’s mother holding her down for him—while they were talking about foalcon fantasies, no less—was erotic beyond even his experience.

Spruce tried to keep his mind on the conversation. “If you did a family outing with a client, like Pony Island, or better, to the beach or a water-slide park…” He conjured a mental image of Rose soaking wet, perched in his lap to go down a water slide and squealing all the way.

Her moans were coming louder. She arched and angled her hips, inviting Spruce’s finger deeper. He went all the way to the webbing and then worked on getting a second one in—a task more easily imagined than achieved.

“I like the idea of being involved,” Celeste said. “Not just to keep an eye on her, but now we’ve been practicing together, I think it’d be fun to share her with a man.”

Spruce knew a cue when he heard one. He pulled his fingers out of Rose with a slurp and quickly stripped, while on her side of the bench, Celeste pulled over a gas-lift stool and adjusted it to counter-height. She sat and lifted her dress to reveal she was panties-free and shimmied her ass closer to bring her pussy beneath Rose’s mouth.

“Eat me, Rosebud,” she said, grapping Rose’s forelegs and hauling her closer. “Just like we practiced.” Rose, up on points now on the plastic step, dipped her tongue into her mother’s tight seam, making her gasp. “Mmm, there’s Mommy’s good foal.” She bit her lip and let a shudder take her body. “What would this be worth?” she asked Spruce, releasing Rose’s forelegs and lacing her fingers through the filly’s mane, guiding her tongue to her clit. “The two of us together?”

Spruce stroked Rose’s pussy again. He wasn’t yet ready to fuck her until he’d exhausted the possibilities of this unexpected situation. “Basic extras usually go around $250 each. Like kissing, using his fingers and mouth on her, having a parent watch.”

“Watch?” Celeste cried out probably louder than she’d intended when her clit disappeared between Rose’s sucking lips.

Spruce laughed. “It’s semantic, I know. But it’s not worth as much as you’d imagine. The kind of men who want Rose…” He shrugged, not wanting to say, ‘don’t like them older than fourteen.’ “The premium extras,” he went on, tickling Rose’s clit and making her squirm, “are all for letting him go further.”

Celeste raised her chin, silently asking the obvious question.

“You know, ropes and stuff…”

Celeste sniffed. “That needs a Level-3 certification, doesn’t it?”

“Soft restraints are only Level-2. I’d be happy to take her through it,” Spruce said. “We can try it out tonight if you like—start out with you holding her down…?”

Celeste looked like she was thinking it over, but she didn’t seem convinced. She sank lower in the bar stool. “Go deeper, Rosebud,” she said in a soft voice.

“Or toys?” Spruce suggested. “Spanking? They’re both Level-1. Popular with the daughter kink, too. I brought a little plug if you want to try.” He fished in his bag and found a slender green anal-plug, just wide enough to accommodate a AAA battery.

“Rose?” Celeste asked, stroking her hair. “Mr. Spruce wants to know if it’s okay to smack your bottom.”

“Hmmph?” Even with a mouthful of pussy, Rose’s shock was apparent.

“He won’t do it hard, sweetie.”

Spruce lifted her skirt and gave her a little smack, aiming it low and over her pussy.

Rose whinnied and plunged deeper into Celeste’s folds.

“I think that’s a yes,” Celeste said.

Spruce slid the little toy in and out of Rose’s cunt, greasing it up with her own nectar, and smearing some more Rose-juice around her ass with his finger. “This is going to feel nice inside you,” he said, pressing the tapered tip to her puckered hole. “Try to relax, okay?”

Rose’s moans became louder and more plaintive as he pressed harder, and as he squeezed the tip inside, she broke contact with Celeste’s cunt and cried out, grabbing on tight to the counter.

“That’s it, sweetie,” Spruce said, pressing it gently home until her sphincter squeezed tight around the narrow neck, and the nickel-sized base sat flush against her skin. He tapped the end to start it up on Slow, just a low, background vibration.

Roseluck came up for breath. “Mommy,” she said excitedly. “It’s buzzing inside me.”

“I know, Rosebud. Does it feel nice?”

Rose thought about that for a moment and nodded.

“Are we going to let Mr. Spruce spank you, now?”

Rose nodded again. She was panting.

“Good girl.” Celeste passed the nod on to Spruce.

Spruce raised her skirt up over her lower back and, holding her tail aside, gave her another soft smack. He used his whole palm, spreading the blow over her rump, rubbing her there and deliberately grazing her pussy. Rose moaned into Celeste’s cunt, and Spruce felt a fresh wellspring of hot juice wet his fingers. He spread it round, mauling her puffy lips and diddling her clit.

“Smack her again,” Celeste demanded.

“Mmm!” Rose complained, her mouth full of pussy. The look of ecstasy on Celeste’s face suggested she was receiving a hummer directly on her clit.

Spruce smacked Rose again, a little harder than the last one, raising a pink glow on her cheeks. This time when she cried out, Celeste cried with her, “Yes, Rosebud! Oh my God!”

Spruce rubbed her ass and fingered her pussy hole, in and out, round and round, making her legs quiver. “Have you been a naughty filly, Rose?”

“Mm-mmm!” The denial was automatic.

“She has,” Celeste panted. “She’s been practicing flicking her tail.”

“Mmmm!”

“Rose, really? Have you been doing that to tease me?”

“Mm-mmm!”

Spruce landed another smack, much louder than it would have been painful. He held his hand against her rump while she squealed her pain and excitement, letting the warmth of his touch stimulate her now-sensitive flesh. He stroked his cock, gliding the tip through her wet cunt lips, adding his own pre-cum to the slick cocktail of juices weeping steadily from her hole.

Rose pushed back onto his dick, and he let it slip inside. Just the tip. She felt every bit as magical as he’d remembered—tight and wickedly hot. It was all he could do not to just shove the rest in.

“Rose? Answer me, Sweetie. Have you been flicking your tail to tease me? Be honest, or I’ll have to smack your bottom again.”

“Mmmm!”

Her mother held her fast, fingers twined in her blond hair, never letting her up for air. “She can lift it, too,” Celeste said. “She’s been showing me.”

“Rose, I’m very disappointed in you. I think you need to show me.”

Rose lifted the vermillion brush of her tail, raising it and waving it slowly like a flag.

Oh my God. Spruce’s balls boiled. The universal pony signal—I’m ready, fuck me. She was wet and open and so, so ripe. Combined with the knowledge of what was coming—Rose’s cervix, soft enough now to penetrate and let him drive all the way into her core—was enough to make him weak at the knees. He rubbed her rump again, letting her anticipate what was about to happen.

Rose whined pitifully but never left off licking her mother’s pussy.

“I’ll tell you what, Rose, make Mommy come, and we’ll forget all about your punishment.”

“Mmm-hmmm.”

That sounded like a yes. Spruce wound up and gave her three more. Smack! Smack! Smack! The squeals and snorts came. Rose was gasping for air in Celeste’s cunt and expelling it just as quickly with cries of rapture and outrage, utterly immersed in the unanticipated bad-pony fantasy.

Celeste arched, eyes shut. She was right on the brink.

Spruce slid two fingers into Rose and fucked her hard and fast. No more gently-gently; he plunged her tiny cunt, plowing right into the webbing, diddling her clit with his ring finger at the bottom of each stroke.

Rose lost control, crying and shaking, struggling to regain her balance on the plastic step so she could drive back against Spruce’s hand.

Celeste tipped back her head, gasping and moaning. “Yes, baby! Mommy’s coming.” She bucked her cunt into Rose’s sucking, slurping lips. Her thighs shook, and with a long, low wail, she came all over her daughter’s face.

Rose wasn’t far behind. Finally free of her pussy-munching obligations, she turned her head in Celeste’s lap, whimpering and moaning in time with the pounding fingers in her cunt. Spruce touched the toy in her ass, raising the speed and eliciting a surprised, ‘Oh! Oh!’ from Roseluck, whose hips pumped madly in a furious imitation of the fucking motion.

“Come on, gorgeous,” Spruce said. “Your turn.” He got down on his knees and plunged his tongue in to Rose’s center, licking her succulent lips, slurping her tiny, pink clit.

“M-o-o-o-m-m-y-y-y!” Rose cried as Spruce ground the length of her slit with his nose.

“I know, Rosebud. Let it go, sweetheart. Make it snow.”

Perhaps Rose had a Queen Elsa fantasy, too, because her mom’s Frozen reference tipped her over the edge. With a shudder and a long, quavering whinny, she came, her squeaky, pre-pubescent voice tracking the three, no, four glorious peaks of her climax.

Spruce licked her out thoroughly as she crested the final summit, swirling his tongue around and beneath her clitoral hood, munching her soft lips, finding and drilling her little hole until he’d slurped up every drop of her sweet, my-little-pony musk.

“That’s it, Rosebud.” Celeste’s voice. “Ride it out.”

Spruce retreated as she came down, nuzzling her opening, kissing and laving her plump, pink lips with his tongue. “Did you like that, Rose?” he asked, standing and patting her rump. He touched the toy in her asshole twice more, switching it off.

“Mmm-hmm.” Rose remained flat-out, bent over the counter with her head in her mother’s lap.