“And that is why I’m happy to have your support for the final push, Ponyville!”
Spoiled Rich’s heart thrummed. Her husband always had a way of coming alive during competitions. The luster in his mane would shine, his eyes would sparkle, his can-do attitude that’d first caught her fancy metamorphosing into raw charisma. As he wrapped up his final vote-pushing speech for the position of Ponyville Mayor, who Spoiled’s heart went out to was obvious.
Her forehooves, however, moved to the direction of a different mare - the current mayor next to her, in fact. And just as the crowd in the packed Town Hall cheered over Filthy Rich’s words at this breakfast, one of Mayor Mare’s hooves drove into her backdoor at the same furious pace.
The limb was deep enough that she could finally hit Spoiled’s prostate, and her blitzing nerves threatened to give her away. Spoiled’s mouth opened in a tilt most of the ponies a stage away from her would think was a sigh.
The thickness of the tablecloth she was seated behind kept their tawdriness from being seen by the crowd. So did Filthy's position on the podium far from her table. And her previous history of turning up her nose at the gathered crowd kept them too dismayed to look further down, and see Mayor Mare roughly serving her the real reason for it turning up; to hide the tears of bliss leaking down her face.
Thank Celestia she’d gone without mascara in favor of the spa. Though that might mean it’d be Aloe who’d have a fit instead of Rarity.
“You may not know this, folks, but I’ve been a competitive juggernaut; from my very first race for superintendent of the Ponyville Trade Commission!”
Spoiled took the last hunk of sunflower cake and jammed it into her maw at Filthy’s next line. Fluffy bread and chocolate cream melted around her muzzle fast enough to mask her moans as Mayor Mare plunged harder against that bundle of nerves. Leave it to Sugarcube Corner to make something both nutritious and noise-canceling.
Oh, how easy it was for her to be so subtle! It wasn’t like Mayor Mare had ever sweat like it was a Sisterhooves Social every time she saw her. She had power, power gained from her own hooves and her town’s seemingly-endless approval. Spoiled couldn’t let her know that she envied her. No one but Filthy could know why she’d really been called Spoiled Milk in a past life.
They had to move fast. Filthy Rich’s speeches always ended quickly; he never wasted time or bits. Mayor Mare’s forehoof drove into her ass with short bursts, the other busy waving to the crowd. She lifted a chunk of hay burger to her flaxen maw, biting in a way that would please the crowd but which Spoiled knew would also force the mushrooms in it into her cheek until they could be deposited in the napkin later. She had a figure to maintain, after all. Mushrooms Fluttershy harvested were rich in taste and calories.
“Umph!” The shock going through Spoiled turned to a heady buzz as the Mayor’s pointed hoof hit her nerve-clusters again. And through it all, neither of their eyes left the crowd, soaking them in just like the seat below Spoiled’s ravaged rump soaked through.
Spoiled’s thoughts turned to what she could collect while like this - like both of the ponies in her life. One was a financial titan, one a political titan - and the latter was further involved in her life than she’d thought possible. But Filthy had been so considerate - so open about how he cared for her and of her.
Yet here she was, getting rimmed by his political opponent in the middle of a breakfast rally. And it thrilled her, doing something so naughty within feet of a pony who’d been so understanding of her. Though that could apply to them both.
Had she changed? Even with Filthy, had this insatiable libido of hers actually been-
“In fact, of the two hundred ballot battles I’ve had since, I’ve only been beaten once!”
The actual answer was ‘To Mayor Mare herself, in the previous elections.’ “By the ugly stick?” was the one Scootaloo gave at the head of the crowd, before her hooves slapped shut over her maw. Sweetie Belle thrust an elbow into the side of her fellow Crusader, seconds too late. Apple Bloom would have followed suit, but was too busy trying to stifle a laugh and blame it on seeds caught in her throat when Applejack raised an eyebrow at her.
Food for thought, Spoiled whispered before intelligible thought was snatched from her again by another lewd flick of Mayor Mare’s forehoof. Apologies followed from the other Crusaders for the snipe at her husband, ones Filthy Rich heartily accepted.
Normally, such disparagement would have gotten Spoiled down that aisle to wring a louder apology from the mischievous Scootaloo. But she’d resolved to everypony that she’d be more... approachable, since the chaos of the last race. Besides, Spoiled would have her time to wrench out pleas from the Mayor soon, anyway. “Harder…” she dared the Mayor, hips flicking back to meet Mayor Mare’s illicit thrusts.
They risked being found out if Spoiled’s hips kept bucking against her this hard. But she didn’t care. Her loins swirled around that feeling of fullness Mayor Mare slammed into her with each thrust. That swelling river at her loins was about to burst its banks. And at that moment, she remembered why she did this. It was her way of looking out for those too complacent to look out for themselves; and those who did so much to look out for her.
Spoiled knew Filthy had married her for love; but why would he keep her? Her doubts had plagued her all throughout the marriage; how she looked, whether Diamond would succeed in school, whether she’d want to succeed her. Another chunk of hay fries was chewed up by Spoiled, and both her lips crushed around the amazing sensation.
And Mayor Mare. Since the time they’d started this arrangement… she’d grown more and more daring as their romps went on, so much so that Spoiled wondered if the amber mare wouldn't bust out an explorer's cap and wings soon. She wondered what drove her - besides the promise of maintaining their Zap Apple Jam monopoly.
Why the Mayor so repeatedly obliged the Rich family still escaped Spoiled. She had the large house all to herself, the town eating out of her hoof, the wife of her only competition romping with her in the middle of their campaigns. Most ponies with her status stopped caring to make these gestures earlier; what made Mayor Mare such a different breed?
Certainly her forehooves had become more adventurous in public. The one formerly occupied with stuffing her face full of fries to clutch at her nutsack. Two churning tests stiffened and swelled at the Mayor's touch, and Spoiled reached for her plate, needing to stuff her face before her climax came.
She was barely fast enough.
“Fuck yeeeess~!” Spoiled hissed around a bubbling mix of zap-apple syrup and soggy pancakes as she came. Her forkful of food was an electrifying cap-off to her orgasm, thighs clenching shut as her sticky release splattered under the table's edge. Spoiled quickly gave thanks to Celestia for making the day so humid as to cover the musk pouring from her thighs much like her cum, her endlessly flowing cum, did.
That she could with her mind twitching in pleasure was a testament to how often they’d gotten each other off like this. But it was a mutually beneficial partnership; like Filthy had always suggested she pursue.
“And with your help, Ponyville, you’ll all know how well you can thrive with the guiding hoof of a natural-born winner behind you!” Filthy’s speech finished to a crescendo of cheers from the crowd.
And yet, there was that sinfully coy Mayor, looking like she hadn’t just heard her primary opponent close out to a rousing crowd. She flicked her hoof free of Spoiled pleasurably abused plothole and caught a dollop of her cum. Slipping it into her maw, she pondered over the taste. “Hmm. Looks like a real box-stuffer this year, Miss Rich.” And she left without another word.
Spoiled knew the Mayor would go through with the rest of this. Could she?
The Crusaders were next to arrive at her table, and Spoiled pulled in her seat further. The batch of cum cooling on her thighs would not do for anypony else to see, let alone fillies. Apple Bloom was the first to speak to her as she hunched over the table. “Scoots is real sorry, Miss Rich. We remembered how rough everythin' got the first go ‘round this election cycle. But... you've both been keepin’ it fair-like today. We can... get over this lil’ mishap, right?”
“C-certainly. Now r-run along.”
Even Apple Bloom seemed shocked at the response, and she’d tried to evoke it! Sweetie Belle, after a second of her jaw gaping, pulled a pocketful of bits from her saddlebags and slapped it into Scootaloo’s outstretched hoof. Whispering out another apology, Scootaloo rushed back to her seat, blushing furiously.
Crisis averted, Spoiled contemplated why they’d gone out of their way to personally apologize to her. Surely the mischievous fillies hadn’t suddenly turned a year’s worth of snideness to her and her family overnight. Had they mistaken her low, unheard moan of orgasm as some restrained show of her anger (she had gritted her teeth quite hard) and come to defuse it? Had Apple Bloom worried about retaliation against the Apple Family farm and thrown herself at her mercy?
Nevertheless, that barb against her husband was repaid, and so were they. Nothing more to con- whoa were her hooves shaky as she tried to rise from the table. She could focus on other matters.
Like the last flick of Mayor Mare’s flagging tail as it disappeared behind the curtain. Most of the ponies in front were dispersing, too. The snack bar was outside of the Hall and this place was just outside of the Town market.
Greenlighting Filthy to continue wooing the crowd outside, Spoiled gave him a quick kiss for luck. Her seat cushion was soon soaked again with delight at the light in his eyes. Then she looked down to her half-finished plate.... then past her barrel at the unconcealed sheath within.
It was her secret shame and serenade all in one.
No. Shame was for the past. Now it was her turn to re-secure her family’s future. Besides, Mayor Mare’s speech would come after the intermission. She had time to reclaim a lot of ground in this battlefield race today.
Spoiled pulled back the curtain in the opposite direction Filthy was heading - and deeper into the divided Town Hall.
“Aaah! Celestia, yes! Don’t stop~!!”
Spoiled Rich’s hoof slapped over Mayor Mare’s mouth before she could finish, spectacles pushed further up by the appendage. Their sex session was frantic and furious against the fur-lined walls of the booth.
This was the deal though; the Mayor did it quiet, Rich went loud. She got that end of the bargain when she showed the equipment to exert it; equipment that was now sliding in and out of her flaxen folds. Yet Mayor Mare, despite the fireworks show before her eyes, dismally thought of how it could only be the second biggest tool in this booth.
Mostly because of what Mayor Mare knew would follow.
Not shame; any that was there had disappeared. Her current position in life held no quarter for those who displayed it easily.
No, it was fear. Fear that she’d fail again in the one arena she’d been trying to break into; the one Spoiled Rich had gotten to with Diamond Tiara. She was conflicted over enjoying this; over asking repeatedly for it; over making a sefl-made mare like Spoiled sneak under her family's snouts to have more of it!
And then Spoiled took away that shame with another full-bodied thrust, the pink-coated paradox of a pony she was. Spoiled had the most powerful stallion in Ponyville throwing himself at her from the second her teats developed, the savvy to run Ponyville’s school board, the best of both worlds between her thighs. And yet she was so haughty and unapproachable.
Which was likely why the Mayor had picked her all those years ago, if she was honest. Mares that standoffish wouldn't be asked questions of where they rolled off to at 3:30 in the night. Mayor Mare seized that thought, threw it into the forge stoked between her thighs. It burned much like the tears in her eyes.
“Could just… tell me to stop…” Spoiled grunted, seeing her tears. Neither pony did.
Mayor Mare would never warm her bed, never awaken to her face, never know the joy Spoiled had brought to Ponyville through her unsung deeds. And again Spoiled worked herself to the bone thanklessly here: her cock pumping between her folds with ruthless repetition.
But a mare could dream, couldn’t she? And dream Mayor Mare did, a sensation as easy to luxuriate in as those cider-sweet pumps of Spoiled’s dick between her legs. When Ponyville looked as simple to solve as the ticket for oversized cookie jars that led her to be Mayor.
Her mind waned back those several years, at an event like this that started the Mayor’s primary. She’d arranged so much to try and rebound from their disastrous first encounter after the collapse of the Ponyville Playground's foundations - ones she'd cut the ribbon on moments before. It was that fiasco that made Mayor Mare realize the crisis closer to her empty nest. So she’d gotten together grape-filled wines and fruit platters, right in her office. Again, it was easy to gather information; almost too easy.
And soon, the cat was called to its platter of cream - who better to cajole for this duty than the head of the Ponyville Schoolboard, Spoiled Rich? Once there, Mayor Mare waited until she'd gotten through two of the plates and all of the wine before speaking.
Past Spoiled had quirked an eyebrow, but Mayor Mare saw the fascination flicker in those eyes, and it made everything following that worth it. The flush as she’d taken over the Mayor’s curves, Spoiled’s eyes as they locked on her, the drop in her jaw as Mayor Mare switched the process to how good Spoiled was at keeping the ponies in her life well-pampered. Happy. Satisfied. So her offer came bluntly: her own body; as 'reimbursement' for the ruined grou-
“OH!” Mayor Mare’s white mane whipped about her, brought back to the present for a brief second by a particularly heavy thrust. Spoiled had brushed right against a pack of nerves. It was so tragically taunting in how it brought up her bliss, fueled her dreams as it was coated in pearly white, and sent it crashing down with shuddering red just shy of nine months later. Spoiled kissed her, keeping her from hearing a howl that was as much about despair as it was desire.
The comforting trickles of those sweets and pancakes, the heart-thrumming buzz of Zap Apple Jam and sharp grapes, seeped into Mayor Mare’s mouth. Spoiled held nothing back (when had she ever? thought the Mayor) turning her head and deepening their kiss as her hips stopped. Even now, her tongue was probing and relentless. As she suckled on it, Mayor Mare thoughts drifted to the past again.
That was a nice word, she thought. Drifted. As if her journey to that past was a run to instead of from reality.
Past Spoiled had almost choked on her own saliva over the deal Mayor Mare made for the collapse of the Ponyville Playground on her husband's plot of land. She'd known the backrooms of Ponyville for a while; naturally, she was certain this was a honeytrap, and sneered as much.
It fell to the Mayor to assuage those doubts; she didn’t care about getting any votes from this. If anything, she’d said then, she was happy to do a little bit extra for the Rich family, if Spoiled did this for her. No one needed to know, unless Spoiled made her scream loud enough to. A job that now was more commonly accomplished by Nurse Redheart now.
After a while, Past Spoiled’s eyes clouded over with lust. She told Mayor Mare to sit on her desk and beg her to get fucked, and she had. And she’d fucked her silly. Papers flew and tore under their bucking bodies. The smell of Spolied’s fine-wine perfume had sent her into amorous fits, her back tingling in bliss as Spoiled sprayed it as white as her mane.
Spoiled’s smooth thrusts in present time made her nearly lose control as they rutted against the voting booth wall. Mayor Mare had begged to be bred; and only this scenario did it, with proper preparations. Only this type of highly-charged environment got them going. Spoiled, ever the giver, was again happy to oblige her offer. It was the Mayor that was losing the will to keep asking.
Sweat poured down them both, the salty taste soaking into Mayor Mare’s tongue. It was a wonderful complement to her continental breakfast, she had to admit. Mayor Mare snapped her hips further into Spoiled with every deep thrust.
“Yes! Hurry! Fill me!” Mayor Mare’s cry nearly shattered the windows of the Hall they were in, eyes rolling into her head. Spoiled could tell the Mayor was close; she was shivering around her shaft, so Spoiled’s forehoof rushed to her teats. Pushing the peaks down with the frog of her hooves, Spoiled toyed with her nipples as the Mayor had done her testes an hour ago.
“Scream for me, Madam,” she hissed.
Mayor Mare, as always with difficult constituents, met her halfway as Spoiled's last thrust buried her deep into her folds. Her teeth sank into Mayor Mare's shoulder, and she howled as Spoiled came harder.
The Mayor smacked the diamond ring imprinted on Spoiled's flank, and she pulled out on command. Clamping her spluttering length between her forelegs, Spoiled waited until its flared tip was against Mayor Mare's open lips before releasing. The rest of her built-up cum shot into the Mayor's throat, the frosting a perfect play against the flapjacks she'd eaten earlier.
But as Mayor Mare's forehooves went to keep in the payload at both her holes, the last spurts of Spoiled’s virile contribution staining her snout, she had to thank her. It took her several swallows to get her honey-sweet dessert down, but her maw was soon empty enough to form words.
She had to give Spoiled something back. This couldn’t be like the other encounters; she’d either succeed or not, but this was the last time. Mayor Mare had the will to suffer setbacks in her anatomy during those times in the past; no longer. “Filthy’s … lucky to have you. I’m… lucky to have you.”
Spoiled already turning to exit the thin veil of the booth, stopped stiffly. “Yes. Yes, he is.” It wasn't obvious which pony she was trying to convince with this. And then she was pulling out, a lavish sigh escaping both their lungs as she did so. She had places to be as well; no one could see them like this, and especially not near each other like this.
Mayor Mare settled down on shaking legs as the curtain cut off Spoiled from view, huffing as her heart rate returned to normal. Spoiled was so damned lucky. She oversaw foals, contributing to their development. She was the herald of the future, and still gave so much to a Mayor like her. Ponyville couldn’t know how much they benefited from a citizen like her. Hopefully, the Mayor would be able to bear them proof soon. What kind of pony was she if she couldn’t?
Hopefully, the Mayor would be able to bear them proof soon. What kind of pony was she if she couldn’t? When the Apple family that bore the town on its back could bring so many more to so many other cities? Even an incorrigible, insatiable mare like Spoiled had done so once before.
Mayor Mare shakily rubbed the cum free of her thighs. She’d call a crew to clean this booth; probably blame it on a wayward young stallion she wouldn't name for hopes of 'learning from her learning'. For now, her speech was about to begin. When had she gotten so used to lying?
Quickly, she pulled out a card from the collar stuck to her neck with sweat. Despite the damp flecks, it was still legible.
Despite what many ponies thought of her, Mayor Mare’s had quite a photographic memory. She’d never needed cards for years while speaking. But lately, going through the motions had been so torturous for her. She’d needed reminders of why she did this. Her stomach rippled beneath her, at a paunch of bountiful sperm she knew wouldn’t be too visible to others.
She tucked the notecard away, then plodded back into the Hall. As she passed the booths, she soaked in the words, certain that this session would be the one that would propel her to a new position in life. This time, it would all work out. Neither the cruel fates, nor her body, nor Redheart’s life-shattering notifications in the maternity ward would plague her.
Mayor Mare swallowed thickly. She’d just have to see this next term through. She would see this term through. She looked down at her slightly swollen abdomen; her secret serenade and shame all in one. She’d known over the years not to trust this fullness.
Her eyes moved back to the slip of parchment. Even now, the last word at its bottom sounded perfect. Like she was made to be with her; play in that dust-collecting crib in her lonesome home; sing its first words in concert with her. She wanted to hope - but the four cross-outs above that name drowned it.
Four reminders that here, where friendship was literally magic, the flesh could still be weak.
Liane
Laurence
Ella
Maria
Cathy
