Remember to make sure you have your owner's permission to cum before reading this chapter ;)
Rarity and Coco Pommel were lying together on a bed in a hotel room. Coco was facing towards the window, which looked out over a slightly-destitute sub-section of Ponyville residential. A night-stand was next to the bed on Coco's side, and next to the night-stand, at its base, lying on the carpet, was a black, wooden box, about the size of a loaf of bread1. It was locked with a golden clasp and seal.
Rarity was behind Coco, lying with one hoof draped over her chest, the other tucked under her head and one of the pillows. Coco's eyes were closed, and she sighed softly and nuzzled backwards into Rarity, who made a cute, happy, untranslatable noise, and wiggled herself forward to match. Rarity's eyes were open, and even though the bedroom light was off, and the window let in only sparkles of the stars and slivers of moonlight, Rarity could see every inch of the cream-white coat in front of her, the mint-striped mane, and the delicate, shy face, that looked particularly innocent and fragile in the scant flickering of the moon.
The pair let out a set of sighs together, each snuggling deep into the bed and blankets pulled overtop.
"Rarity," Coco said, breaking the sacred-feeling silence, but bringing a smile to Rarity's face regardless. She turned her head, eyes finally open, and Rarity beamed at her. "I was thinking lately. About... limits."
Rarity nuzzled her muzzle into the side of Coco's neck. Coco nuzzled back, but her face had taken on a serious expression, and it remained until Rarity had pulled her head back up and looked at her partner properly.
"Limits?" Rarity tilted her head to the side. "What exactly do you mean, my dear?"
"Well, I mean... my rules. With Suri."
Rarity's head tilted back to its normal direction. Her mouth fell into a frown.
"Ah," she said. "Yes. Well, those rules are between the two of you, and so far, we haven't had any trouble following along so we can continue to play together..."
"But Suri's rules are boring," Coco said. She sat up in bed, her eyes wide, shimmering in the strands of silver streaming in through the open window. "We're only allowed to see each other once a week. Always in a hotel. No marks, no public play... and no kissing." Coco frowned and crossed her forelegs across her chest. "I can't stand no kissing."
Rarity continued to frown. Her eyes shifted to the side as her brain fought the inevitable and infinite battle between willpower and lustful desire. Maybe there was a better word for the second half: horniness? Sex-need? Whatever it was, it was in danger of winning unless Rarity fought with all her might.
"I'm sure Suri has her... has her reasons, dear," Rarity said. She got distracted mid-sentence by the thought of lunging forward and planting her lips on Coco's mouth and tongue-kissing her so wet and filthy she'd get spit in her fur for a week.
"But don't you ever think about breaking the rules?" Coco asked. She leaned close to Rarity and put one hoof over hers. "Don't you wanna leave a mark on me... to show I'm yours?"
Rarity pulled her hoof away like it had been stung. She could put on a good show, even if half her brain was screaming at her to take the other side and set up an evening with Coco that would send her back to Suri more purple-and-red than her original colour.
"Dear," Rarity said with a pleading tone, "we mustn't. If Suri saw something like that, she'd know immediately we'd been... naughty. And then I might never get to see you again."
"She wouldn't find out about it. There are plenty of places you can leave a mark without somepony seeing it," Coco countered. She pointed to the soft curve on the inside of her hind-leg joints, was it a pony-knee, could you call it that? She lifted up a part of her mane and showed off her soft neck that was hidden underneath it. The insides of her thighs, when she spread her hind-legs wide, right close to her pussy, but covered up when she tucked her legs closed again.
Coco's eyes shone brighter than the moonlight. She was a hungry viper, waiting with night-vision for the flicker of movement that would cue it to pounce.
"Dear," Rarity said again, her voice begging even further. "We really shouldn't—what would I even mark you with? There's nothing in our kit that's designed to leave a bruise..."
A blade. Coco had brought a knife, and it shimmered like solid mercury under the moonlight.
"Here," Coco said. She held the knife out to Rarity. "Take it."
Rarity stared at the knife. Her hoof felt light and heavy at the same time. Leaden weight, so she would keep it, unmoving, on the bed. Air-and-feathers, so it would float upwards, and reach forward, and take the blade out of Coco's hoof and into her own.
"I can't," Rarity said. "Even if it would be, wonderful, and, really, that handle is quite exquisite, very well carved, even though I won't be, that is... I shouldn't..."
Rarity found herself watching her own hoof reach forward for the handle of the knife. Coco lifted it up to her, and the transfer happened like charge between electrons. There had been power in one pony's hoof, and now it was in another's.
"Put it against my neck," Coco whispered through her teeth. She tilted her head back to expose the soft, supple flesh and fur of her slender neck, pale-white almost glowing in the dark. Coco put her hoof on Rarity's, over the other side of the knife-handle, and pulled it upwards, dragging the blade towards her exposed jugular.
"Coco," Rarity said. Her breathing had quickened, and her tone had gone from 'pleading' to 'desperate'. The final part of the dam's foundation was beginning to break, and the flood that would follow might swallow both of them up so deep they would never surface again.
"Do it," Coco hissed. Pushed the knife forward. "I want you to cut me."
"Not here," Rarity said. The knife was moving on its own, at Coco's behest, sharp tip extended and glimmering as the flat, then turning to the blade, was against Coco's neck. Until it had parted her fur, and only needed the tiniest shove to open flesh and spray blood all over the hotel bed.
"Coco," Rarity begged. "Please."
Coco drew in a long, sharp breath through her nose, and closed her eyes. She sat up more fully, arching her body in the air, sticking her butt out and moving her neck, and Rarity's hoof holding the blade, down a bit, but not letting anything slice or puncture. Just savouring the imminence of the death. Even if Rarity would never, could never do it, all it took was one slip, one stumble, one insistent cry with an extra hard shove, and Coco's life would vanish like a whisper through a hole in her neck. Her eyes would roll up, and her soul would go out, and that would be the last chapter she saw the finished wording of.
When Coco pulled Rarity's hoof, and the knife, away, Rarity let out a giant relieved sigh, so loud it overshadowed the ragged breathing that had taken the bodies of both mares and begun to rattle them and make them squeeze their hind-legs together between breaths.
"Put it here," Coco said. She leaned back on the bed and spread her legs, then gestured to the place on the inside of her thighs2. "Cut me here."
It wasn't a familiar feeling, wanting to cut somepony. It wasn't even a feeling that felt like itself put into words—it was a translation of a translation of a feeling, sucking the fear in Coco's shaky breathing out of the air and swallowing it into your chest. It was power in your hoof. It was just a knife.
Rarity put the blade to Coco's skin and drew in a smooth, straight line. The knife glided along its path, and a few seconds later, left a bright, red trail.
Coco drew in a hissing breath through her teeth as she watched the mono-colour rainbow pour and dribble into her white coat. A bit began to drip towards her cunt, which was wet long ago, by now dripping, and the juice of her arousal mixed with the tiny line of blood as it dribbled down and onto the bed.
"Yesss," she said. "Make me yours."
"Suri would get quite upset if she found out we were behaving like this," Rarity said, practically moaning with each word. She pressed the blade of the knife into Coco's shoulder and leaned forward, until her nose was practically pressed up against Coco's, and their lips were separated only by inches.
Coco squealed and bucked her hips up, a mixed stream of clear filly-juice and crimson blending between her legs.
"No kissing. Correct, my dear?"
Coco nodded, sweating, panting.
"Yes," she said. "No kiss—"
Rarity drew the blade as she leaned in to complete the kiss. Lips finally touched together. Coco felt the shrill sting of the knife cutting through her skin. She moaned and closed her eyes, and threw her head back while biting on her lower lip.
"May I please cum," she said, unable to force herself to form the sentence as a question. "May I... please..."
"Do you promise not to let Miss Suri know how bad you've been?"
Coco moaned again and squeezed her legs together, hard.
"Yes," she said, thrashing on the bed desperately. "I p-p... I promise."
"Then yes. You may cum."
Coco came. She grabbed Rarity's face with both hooves and pulled her in and kissed her, hot, desperate, slobbering with her tongue in tempo to match Rarity's enthusiasm, overtaking her and taking her breath away as Coco bucked again and again against the friction of her leg-squeezes and the hot, stinging pain tingling throughout her body. The white, green, red. Silver moonlight.
After she had finished drenching the bed-sheets, Coco collapsed forward. Rarity caught Coco against her chest, and lowered her gently to the other side of the bed, away from wet spots and a probably increased room-cleaning bill. Rarity set the knife on the night-stand, where its glimmer finally seemed dulled, hidden from the illumination of the window.
"Do you need a moment, dear?" Rarity asked.
Coco shook her head, eyes closed, then opened them.
"No," she said, still a little breathless. "I'm fine. I can—ghhk!"
Rarity's foreleg had pressed over her neck, hard and squeezed the majority of air out of her lungs, as well as the last of her rambunctious bluster. There was that tingle again—somepony else could hold your life up like a delicate crystal, and if they dropped it, send you scattering into every corner, more pieces than there were atoms in the universe.
"Please," Coco murmured. Her voice was pitched and squeaky as it came out through the pressure of Rarity's choke-hold. "Please..."
Rarity and Coco both knew the safe-word. That was a 'please, keep going'. Not a 'please, stop'.
Rarity was happy to oblige.
There was that look in Coco's eyes—the one she hadn't seen before, but had dreamed about, maybe, or just known the second she saw it as though it had come to her through a past life. The look that said 'I am yours, to do with as you like. You can love me, you can use me, you can ball me up and throw me away with the trash. I belong to you.'
Coco was beginning to gurgle and wheeze, sucking her breaths in through a compressed straw. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her legs kicked, all of them, thrashing out involuntarily, not looking for help, but unable to quell her body's natural instinct to beg for mercy when the white light at the end of the tunnel was glowing over the horizon. Coco opened her mouth to speak, but the words dwindled into choking noises, and her body began to kick less and less, her limbs growing more and more slothful as the amount of oxygen going to her brain remained at an all time low.
Between Coco's legs, Rarity's other hoof was hard at work, rubbing and slapping Coco's wet slit and clit, even though Coco had lost the strength to move her hips upwards in response. Rarity's touches had started with intense moaning, but now there was barely breathing, just Rarity's hot and heavy panting overtop Coco's dwindling, desperate gurgles. A cough, another cough, sucking in the last remaining drops of air that dwindled as the light was dimming...
Rarity yanked her foreleg off Coco's neck and leaned down to whisper in her ear:
"Cum for me, dear."
Coco's oxygen-deprived brain could barely muster the energy to open her eyes, but it still knew 'cum', and her pussy could take over for all the other parts of her body she couldn't communicate with, which meant she just kind of spasmed as though she was being shocked, came on Rarity's hoof so hard she was squirting, surely, no, there was more than that, she was wetting herself, spraying pee all over the bed like a little filly who was having nightmares, and she couldn't even find the strength to turn her head in shame. Just like this, she came, and she couldn't help it, or do anything besides, until Rarity finally removed her hoof from between Coco's legs, and the orgasm starved at last like a flame without oxygen, or the same way that Coco had just a moment ago.
Sputtering noises filled the room as Coco coughed for air. Rarity helped her sit up, and gave her a few pats on the back to help loosen up her breathing. Then she went to petting her, stroking up and down her back in long, soft motions, and playing with Coco's mane, that was by now soaked with sweat, mare-cum, and a little bit of blood as well. The two marks on Coco's body were still bleeding brightly, the one on her shoulder especially dark, as though it had been extra deep, and now the room smelled of an all-new mix of blood, sex, and urine, which Rarity didn't find all that bad, and even happened to enjoy a little, now that she thought about it. Coco was too stunned to think about the fragrance composition of the room. Or worry about the cleaning bill.
Even after sex, though, Rarity was no slouch when it came to appearances. Her horn flashed and glowed, and in a matter of seconds, the stains and slimy pools on the bed vanished, the sheets and blankets looking as fresh as though they'd been washed that morning. She even fluffed the pillows into place before she lowered Coco onto them, and Coco rewarded her with a soft, mewling sigh as her head hit the cushiony fluff.
There was still a bit of cleanup to do, surely, and Rarity couldn't cast many more spells like that without wearing herself completely. They had the hotel for the night, at least.
She could worry about that—and what Suri would say when she saw the mark on Coco's shoulder—the next morning.
For now, there was a kissing rule to re-infringe upon.
Author's Note
1: Does this technically warrant being referred to as 'the size of a breadbox'? Does anyone actually use breadboxes? What is a breadbox? Hello? - Ed.
2: Do ponies have thighs? What are 'thighs'? Things? - Ed.
As always, huge thanks to our patrons, Sorden, carcinoGeneticist, Jake, David Griffin, and infernap42, for allowing us to continue functioning and writing stuff. And thanks to garatheauthor for this request. <3
