Bite Me, My Spikey
B_25 for Smileyface
The world had been plunged into a state of sleepiness, consciousness gone on for too long, the toil of caring to cast exhaustion on all. Worries and woes. Doubts and bouts. Everything diminishing the spirit of a being. Becoming older meant becoming tired.
And being tired wasn't always a negative.
Spike's vision remained blurry as the muffled sound beyond the window rose him from thought. Light shake of the head and fluttering of eyes to regain the present life metaphorically left. He'd gone somewhere else. Place in his head connected to a world beyond. It seemed like he alone knew how to return.
The cart rocked lightly as the trained entered a turn.
Dying sunlight came to rest through the window and fogged the scene, thin and transparent, though bright in attempting to see through. Yet the dragon narrowed his eyes to see to the other side. There sat the mare blurred by heaven itself.
Yet he focused through in order to see her.
Twilight Sparkle sat on the other row of seats, looking out through the window, thought her eyes recorded nothing. Her elbow laid propped on its rest as she rested into her hoof. Golden beams had bathed her like steam rising from a communal bath. Subtle atmosphere of a goddess easily achieved.
Her mane had grown long and ceased to be brushed. It didn't keep in a curve around her neck. Rather it flowed across her back, spilling over its sides, the look one expected to see against a pillow or lazily floating on water.
Something must have roused Twilight. Her lips parted and her eyes slowly blinked. Lethargic was the turning of her head to face him. She was smiling, a small one, pronounced in its bunch at the corner of her lips. Eyes half-lidded, always, in a state nearing slumber.
"Like what you see?"
Spike blinked and opened his mouth and did not speak. Rather he was stunned by the easy tease and sought to make one in return. "Just thinking of the kind of discount a salon will offer to a princess."
"Oh?" Twilight allowed herself to fall back into her seat, its cushions swallowing her, every softness on her frame, compressing into itself, into a cuteness of a purple thing. Exerting nothing, her last effort was to prod the bangs loosely cast over her eyes. "You don't like it then?"
"I..."
Spike was forced to look down into his claws already clasped in the space between his legs. He took two seats in ease and could expand into the other two. Self-consciousness about his size, though, said to keep compact. Yet nothing spoke in opposition to the mare's looks. "I... no. You look perfect. Always do."
"Even down here?"
His drawn eyes flicked from his thighs and stopped at hers; plushness of purpleness that spread to reveal the valley between. Deep between their thickness teased the mare's vulva. Layered in fuzz as a scent of sweet raspberry drifted out. It came entangled in the lavender forest surrounding it. Sleek and long strands, untamed, as they remained untrimmed.
Every urge had to be fought to not lower onto his knees and scoot across the cart. To prevent himself from diving between the barrels supposed to be thighs. They wouldn't lock around his head. Of that he could be sure. He could do as he pleased to that pussy. She would lay back, sleepy and pleased, and nothing more.
"I... don't think salons cover down there." He brought a claw to cover his face though, lacking punishment for it, peeked through his digits. It was right there. Her bottom shifted on the cushion as she rocked her crotch. Little wiggle, unintentional, to drive him into desire. "Maybe a few would. The bad places would do an awful job. The good places, too, would report how well they did."
His claw dropped and he kept looking at her crotch. "So there's no winning that."
"If you don't like something," Twilight flirted in compressing in a lean to the side, arching out her hips, spreading her thighs even more. "Then you're more than free to do some work below. Do whatever you like with your claws. I'm okay with whatever makes you happy."
Once more his mouth was forced agape with nothing to be said. He couldn’t refuse her. But neither could she be accepted. They were forced to keep in the middle until one end could be reached. And Twilight didn't seem like she would ever give up.
Spike shook his head. "W-What are we doing! Close your legs! Ack! I can't believe I said something like that!"
Twilight looked at him from afar, an expression of sleepy confusion on her face, one melted away in laughter after. Nothing requiring care lasted for long. Rather her legs closed, tail flicked through the crevice between her thighs, pinned, now, over her privates. "As you wish Spikey."
But Spike only kept blinking in trying to make sense of everything, anything to reject the situation, it being valid or not. His head shot to the door and he was treated to his reflection. Grown was he into a proper dragon. Complexion of slenderness and blockiness crafted into harmony. Fangs teased beyond his lips.
His look was sharper now. He was a proper adult. Fully grown dragon for his kind. One for his own life and purpose and direction. Yet he was sweating. Expression angry despite the lack of anger. Eyebrows narrowed and eyes feeling the same. Yet it wasn't malice forming his aroma.
It was something he didn't understand.
And it drove him mad.
Mad for being bad.
"Y-You're a princess! Someone could have looked through that window and seen you showing yourself to me!" Fake were the words as they were forced from his lungs. Fighting to find something right. That validation being craved. "Maybe they could have had a camera!"
But even as the mare laid her face into the backrest away from him, one of her eyes floated back, happiness being its feeling. Her shoulder wiggled as Twilight snuggled into comfort. "So?"
"So? So! Isn't this your expertise? Breakdown of the worst scenario?"
"Ponies taking a compromising photo of me?"
"And what do you think they'll do with it."
"Blackmail?"
"We would be screwed!"
"I wouldn't care."
"Those photos get out and ponies see you down there... and that you were doing that to me, a dragon, which will... will..."
Spike had been amped up but the energy left in seeing the mare shutting her eyes. Puffing slightly as a flush of warmth swept across her. She'd already gone back to being perfect. Asleep and pleased with herself.
The train continued to chug as the scenery far beyond the glass remained unchanged. Mountains stacked and rose higher as the sunlight that died in the cart was being lifted up. Soon there would be nothing. It would be that way for a while. But it wouldn't matter to the mare set to slumber.
The dragon crashed back into his seats and the guilt for requiring so many stacked again. Instead of closing his legs and clasping his claws between them, he changed, spreading out his thighs, his arms allowed to rest on the wood spanning the row. The top of the backrest took him easily.
And it felt... good. Voices complained in his head. Of the space consumed and the callousness typical of a dragon. It drained him. Everything negative about him, viewed by others, forced to occupy his brain. He entertained them to eventually prove them wrong. To do better before others so they thought better of him.
But that didn’t stack to now. Being the large dragon carrying none of his weight. Rather the rest took all of him. The cushions fully sunk into and the wood beneath starting to creak. His spine whispered relief in being free of weight. Easily. His eyes closed in turn.
The arrival to the station had been in darkness but, as the train slowed, it did so across a glowing wonderland. City of towering buildings and flashing lights and roads paved in marble. Water fountains composed of gold with a blue to the glimmering liquid despite the lack of a sky.
Spike had been the first to rouse from slumber as everything laid in the night. Even though it felt as though he was alone, there was a form on the other side—the mare still caught in sleep. Her long mane was spilled over the sides of her face. Natural. Not brushed. It nearly seemed motherly.
He had groaned and forced himself to rise, not bothering to wake the princess, instead offering his back, her arms knowing where to go, wrapping around his neck, her body draped over his spines, a ride she never did mind. Once carried, they were out, through the carts into the public space.
He'd passed through the isles with confusion about him. Dimness was the interior of the train but his eyes could still see. See the ponies on the wooden rows, most asleep, couples leaned into each other, peacefully, able to sleep, even though it was time to get off—even though there were strangers around them.
But none gave a fuss.
And not even the conductor had come to usher ponies off.
Everyone content with it all.
Yet the dragon still felt like something was wrong.
The trip across the strip was like a journey across another world. Beams of white on either side, facing up, shining the sky in their designs. Carts were slow on their passing on the road. Light rocking of wheels to the jostling of boxes. Everything keeping in harmony.
Both had reached the hotel after that. Set before a mountain and rising before it. Every window glowing as bulbs dressed the building. The warm night transitioned into cool AC as they entered the lobby.
The clerk behind the desk offered them no problem. Not a fuss even at seeing a dragon carry an unconscious mare. The stallion worked in silence. He slid a key on being done. His interaction to them was to nod. One the dragon returned as he turned to the elevator that would lead to their rooms.
But still he couldn't let go. Even in being away from home and life as he knew... something about him couldn't change. Perfection snuggled into his spines as nuzzles toyed with them. Her mane tickled into his scales without trying. Twilight was everything he loved, without having to try, it all happening naturally.
Yet he leaned in the elevator's corner, the lights on the dials matching the screen above the door, the buzzing of machinery echoed by the surrounding shaft. Soon it slowed and then stopped. The doors opened and they were out into the hall. Fourth door on the left. Lovely floor to an ordinary room.
Spike paused before the door as the spade of his tail whipped forward. He gazed at the card it held before it dipped into the slot above the door's handle. Red buzzed to green and they were allowed in. Stepping inside and flicking on the lights so the two could see.
Or, at least, so he could see.
"Twilight?"
His head turned to see hers coming to stretch forward, which fell on top of her foreleg, nuzzling into it. Her eye blinked open in not recognizing her surroundings. She at once saw him, though, now set at ease. "Mmmhmm?"
"You okay? You slept that whole trip... and you seem ready to take down the night the same way."
She giggled and moved her arm as she wiggled into the crook between his neck and shoulder. "Only if I can sleep like this."
Spike winced. "But we're still supposed to meet the girls."
"Mmhmm." Twilight closed her eyes again. "They won't mind."
The natural reaction was to oppose that. That they agreed to this in advance to meet for a friend's night out. Hardly did they see each other. A week of doing precisely that, only that, was needed to keep the past in the present. But in thinking of the others minding them missing a night. Well. Images didn't come to mind.
Spike twisted to set his claws on the mare, able to hold her like a cat, raising her barrel. Bringing Twilight to bed and laying her on her side, he drew a claw over her face, pulling aside the bangs, seeing the worn but beautiful face of his love.
It was undeniable. He loved her. More than anyone else.
In every way possible.
The desire to be with her was there.
So what was stopping him?
"Kiss the princess to wake her." Twilight's eye exploded open to set on him, looking up, relaxed confidence about her. "Isn't that the fable? Kiss me, Spikey, and I will be yours." Her lips bunched at the corner and shot into her cheek. "Be it for the night or for life. Whatever you need."
A huff came from him as he sat on the edge of the bed, without losing his claw's placement, not wanting to lose this. That he was sure of. Yet he was unsure of pushing more into the world he wanted. Countless reasons denied it. They could not be listed. Only their presence felt.
"One kiss... and you'll come see the girls with me?"
Another snicker. "So long as you wish that of me."
He swallowed and went in. Kiss on the cheek. One delivered with closed eyes that represented sincerity. Twilight closed hers in receiving it. Seconds passed before he lifted. He was frozen as she was quietly laughing.
"It would appear I was cheated out of a deal."
Spike returned to sitting up. "Will you still come?"
"But of course."
"...you worried about another mare stealing me?"
"Not really."
"So why—"
"Because you want me to, silly."
They'd strolled side by side out of the hotel and to the location set to be the meeting place. Spike blushed at the mare leaning into the side of his thigh. Always she kept with it as she didn't walk on her own. She blushed as well. One light, though, always there. She only looked upon feeling the weight of his eyes. Never did she speak. Only giggle.
Until voices beckoned them from ahead.
"Darlings! You were able to arrive after all! That is the burden of a thousand worries gone." The path led upward and into the towering saucer entrance, large and vast and creamy in a white coating of paint. Its opening was carved and spanning to a touch below the roof. "Rainbow here proposed something world-ending had halted you two for a bit. Though now I see causal lateness is your only crime."
Two mares stood before the building as the duo ascended the ramp to be before them. Rarity and Rainbow were together on the golden platform. There were countless others before different facilities across this section of the area. Everything raised to varying heights as to compose their own worlds.
"And do not fear! For we are criminals as well." Rarity tossed her mane while looking over at Rainbow. "This missy here held us back at the hotel for a bit. Indeed we feared missing you. Yet our arrival was only a moment's difference."
Rainbow causally glared over at her. "You weren't complaining about me being slow back in our room."
Rarity blushed. "I-Indeed. It would have been a far worse crime for you to have gone fast."
That glare transitioned into a smirk. "Told ya I could be slow where it counts."
Both of them giggled.
Spike knew it wise not to say anything.
And Twilight happily and sleepily leaned into him.
It was after a few greetings and catching up that the group decided to go inside, passing through the darkness of the entrance as hoofsteps were the only sign of life and progression. Few moments passed until lights illuminated the void. Burning through it to reveal the world on the other side.
Vast and wide and composing open floors was the interior of the building. The four trotted in—the dragon walking normally—as the path beneath their feet had curved through the air, a faint blue pulsation through it, leading them deeper into the dream.
Soon the winding path touched into the main ground. Here was where the club spanned. Round and glowing counters with see-through stools set around them. Mist floated over the floor and glowed to the colour that shone. Stages erected in round platforms in the area, everything dimming after a few moments, darkness consuming the world again, before life glowed back into existence.
"Isn't this place otherworldly?" That voice floated from his side, leading the dragon to look over his shoulder. Rainbow and Rarity leaned into each other without a care for how they would be seen. A Wonderbolt, uncaring of her reputation. "Everything is so ethereal! It feels as though I've been transported to a different way of life! Doesn't this speak something to you, Rainbow?"
Rainbow Dash was looking around the surroundings with a stoic expression. One a bit more heavy around the eyes as to suggest tiredness. Yet like someone fighting through a late and long shift, she powered through, putting on a light smile. "Not quite my squad. But the ladies on the stage don't look so bad."
"Indeed! Something there for all of us to enjoy!" Rarity beamed forward as steps floated out from the mist, contracting a way up, right to the plastic disk before the stage. She had to sit down for a seat to randomly appear. "Just look at their outfits! What a strange design! Yet I cannot help but feel as though there's something to be learned from them!"
Rainbow floated over on the light fluttering of wings. Twilight actually left the dragon to saunter forward, a sway to her hips, as voluminous as they were, to draw attraction to her backside. Globes of dough, heated, coated in fur. Flanks round instead of slender. One rubbing into the other until the change into another step. Her tail lagged behind, it pooled on the previous step, adding to the show.
One the mare did not know she was performing, until Twilight had stopped, one hoof on the next step, coming to look over her shoulder. Half of her face bound in relaxed confidence at catching him. That eye shot back at him, its top lid halfway down, a look unable to be described.
Twilight faced forward and continued her trek without a word.
I'm going to lose it. Spike lowered and shook his head, covering an eye while he did so, wanting to lose himself to the scene. Everything peaceful and serene. This club existing in a paradise and constructing itself on a whim. All surrendered to being loose.
So why couldn't he?
The steps rose and spanned longer to the sides to accompany his feet. He kicked through the fog on ascending until reaching the unseen platform of the stage. In the darkness sat the backs of ponies, before the counter and looking up, seeing the dancers perform, poles constructed that shone different colours.
Spike paused before the seat next to Twilight, who turned to look up at him, a smile still on her face. "This seat taken?"
Her smile grew as she looked onto the stage again.
The dragon huffed as he sat down, finding the seat, somehow, enlarging to accommodate his frame. His side pressed into Twilight's, but, as always, she did not mind. He looked upon the stage to a snowy mare clung to a pole, upside down, descending like a cloud.
Whoa.
The dancer turned in the descent, coming to pull away from the beam, exposing her barrel's slenderness, the white tuft, looking soft, now puffed. One could bury themselves into that temptation as it slowly twirled around the pole. The mare possessed eyes as blue as the sky.
"Oh Celestia." Rainbow's voice floated from his side, and the dragon looked left, spotting the pegasus with her head down. There was a drink wrapped within her hoof. "Wish I had an allure like that. I can never match that."
"Indeed." Rarity poked her muzzle into the downward gaze of her friend. "You're more slender whereas she is more plump."
Rainbow's shoulders tucked together. "You tryin' to rub it in?"
"Only that I'm the one supposed to have that allure." Rarity kissed the corner of Rainbow's lips. "You're supposed to be cheeky and delicious and utterly adorable when you are nervous. That dichotomy is delicious. Don't strive to be any different."
Rainbow chuckled as, in keeping her head down, she tilted it to Rarity. "Sometimes, I feel like I'm your play toy."
"The play toy I have very strong feelings for."
Spike watched the interaction with the wonder as to its lack of shame. Though it was hard to imagine embarrassment at all appearing in a place like this. Rather, he looked around the dark place, feeling like a void, an abyss, everything dark for seconds, until the joint warmed into light again.
These mares didn't care who heard them. Didn't fear letting their feelings out loose. Rather they were happy. In the next second, they were kissing, as mares danced before them, an eye, from each, set on the dancers. No flicks or teases or insults to be found by that. Everything set to max enjoyment.
Even the dancers had that feeling of being tired but still being here. How relaxed and slow their movements were. The enjoyment on their sleepy muzzles in shaking their hips to the curious eyes around. It felt like there should have been countless problems. Yet there was none.
And that felt like a problem.
Spike looked over to his right to find that seat missing. He blinked in whipping his head around. Twilight wasn't anywhere to be seen. His heart fluttered as the mare rarely did anything more than needed. She wasn't lazy. Just not exerting the usual energy to power the everyday things in life.
But when he looked to the stage, his jaw lowered, seeing a purple plot wave left and right, as the girl clambered onto the stage. She stood and was bathed in the white glows from the floor's beams. Towering was she to those on the counter below.
"T-Twilight?"
Her ears perked at hearing his voice. She stood to the side before she came to look at him. Muzzle tilted up to ooze that feeling of assurance. Looking over to the pole, she sauntered toward it, wide hips swaying the same, those globes of lavender, rubbing in place, teasing to the crevice between.
Twilight reached the pole's side and started to rise, the flash of darkness denying sight, all black, until merging of beams. Six from different angles coming to life in their aim on the mare. Standing on hind legs as she hugged herself to the pole. Tuft of her chest, voluminous and pouring out, spilling over the bar.
She ascended the pole and darkness returned. Nothing to something. Flash of light showing her at the top. Despite the lack of a ceiling, it felt like she reached on, as high on the beam as what could be seen.
Twilight snuggled into the pole and looked down to the dragon, a tired grin about her, the tease for him to come get some. With a flap of her wing, the effect was powerful, twirling her around the pole as she descended it. Her hind legs hooked to it as the other spread out, teasing to the curve leading into her special place.
Rarity and Rainbow looked at Spike and he to them. He was expecting shock or surprise or maybe disgust. Confusion at the sudden act or something akin. But there was none of that. Rather grins and cheers were all he found.
Everyone wanted for him that which he already desired.
His heart kept beating in his chest and the pace never seemed to dip. Everything about the mare captured him. From those distant eyes that seemed entwined with his. The length and slenderness of her body. Her rump. Those flanks. The jostle from how she twirled round and round.
How she thrust that pole into her bottom, rocking into it, beating it with her hips, doing so as she rose up the pole. That grind upward to pull away and start again. How she turned and meshed a flank into the pole, to tease how easily an object could sink into her softness—and the tautness that existed to a certain depth.
Twilight sold herself without saying a word.
I want that... don't I? Everything inside me is demanding I go onto that stage and take her while everyone is watching. But I... I want more than that. And I already know she wants more than that. But why... why can't I make a move? Why does it seem like no one cares about anything else?
The dance had finished with Twilight's legs wrapped around the pole, leaning upside down from it, her shoulders crashing into the ground, the top of her head as well, her eyes set on him alone. Her belly curved inward to the crotch kept to the pole.
She had returned to her seat without another word after that. Few more dances went by and never did her eyes leave him. Spike continued to drink and sweat and was too afraid to look at the girl intent on staring at him. Everything was scary despite all being accepting.
And then Twilight had gone to the bathroom.
"What are you doing dude?"
That voice had roused him from himself. Spike blinked and looked over to Rainbow. Rarity's face was resting into her cheek as well. The two intent on him with a womanly look of a boy needing to do something soon. "What do you mean?"
"Twilight just gave you a dance."
"And?"
"What other guy has she given a dance like that in her life?"
Spike's shoulders slumped as his head shook and his elbow rested on the counter. He collected his face into a palm as tiredness consumed him as well. It killed him. Not the kind of exhaustion that was pleasant to everything else. Rather the drainage of consciousness spent tightly inside anxiety. "I didn't even know she could dance like that."
Rarity piped up. "And my guess is neither did she. Those moves suit her for sure. But they were amateurish."
"That wasn't even her best?" Rainbow's expression bore amazement. "Never thought that egghead would ever have that potential."
Rarity smiled. "One's performance is significantly improved if it's done in passion—especially if that passion is for an individual."
His former crush, telling him off, to the lust another mare held for him. "I almost don't want to see what she could do with practice."
Rainbow snickered. "I'd take a private lap dance everyday of the week if I could if I were you."
Something like that was believable coming from Rainbow, but Spike was left confused in seeing Rarity nodding. And he could see it too. Though the mare only did as needed, she could be more than happy to comply if he asked. It felt right and wrong. No reasons could be summoned as to why.
But soon Twilight had come back and soon after that, the night was coming to an end, at least for them. Rarity and Rainbow had left first with the promise of meeting during the day tomorrow. Spike needed a few more drinks before he could still his nerves to leave. Twilight, however, was just happy to be there.
They were out of the building after that. Music buzzed in their ears and the heat rolling off their bodies cooled in the breeze of the night. An exciting sight had greeted them to the side. Rainbow pinned to a wall, Rarity standing over her, devouring that blue neck, nipping at it, the two being shameless in the open.
The couple even waved them off as the duo passed.
"...Spike?"
Spike blinked and snapped from his thoughts. They were on a strip leading back to the hotel. He looked down to see Twilight looking up at him. Long mane, wet with sweat, the bulk of her face hidden. "Yeah Twilight?"
"I think... that I exerted myself more than I thought." She came to slow and eventually stopped, and he did the same, a few steps away from her. He turned back while looking down at the mare. "Do you think you could carry me back? In your arms this time?"
Spike went to think only for there to be no energy left. Nothing to be summoned for worry or woe as to why this could be wrong. Zero care for the passing ponies and their wandering eyes and possible thoughts. Feelings not cared for beyond himself and the mare.
And he did not need to answer as he passed to her side. Lightly he scooped her into his arms with one holding her neck and the other at the bend of her legs. She looked at him with a smile, that long mane, falling away from her face, revealing the beauty hidden before.
It was in walking back to the hotel the dragon realized that lesson. The mare had been far away on that stage. Her face hidden to him from a distance between them and underneath that mane. Yet in choosing to hold her close to him, doing something without thinking, they were close, her face always visible, more attractive to him than the sky.
Or whatever was in front of him.
Yet they made the trip back to the hotel just fine.
They reached their room, in where the mare rolled from his arms, landing on her hooves like a cat. She went into the bathroom to freshen up as he returned to sit on his bed. It indented heavily underneath his mass as his muscles ached from being spent on the night.
He wanted to sleep, but found that he couldn't, something inside the exhaustion keeping him away. Once more his claws clasped in the space between his legs. His chin passed over his shoulder in looking over his back to the window. Out there, life went on, and was enjoyed.
None thinking. All doing. Everyone happy.
There was a flush and then a splash of water. Creak of a door to hoofsteps coming out. Twilight appeared on the other side of the room, walking out from the bathroom, looking to him with a smile. Somehow she seemed even more tired than before. Blackness beneath her half-lidded eyes.
Spike's heart started to pump lava in seeing the girl starting toward him. How every step came directly in front of the other, a sultry predator approaching its prey, though her face didn't match the feeling at all. Its tiredness stuck. But a fatigue of what?
He was sweating by the time she arrived in the space between their beds. A boy and a girl sharing a room alone. He was her friend. Best friend. Lifelong friend. Sometimes she had ceased to even be a mare to him.
But that feeling had long since passed.
"Bite me."
Spike shuddered at the request. He looked to the mare in confusion only to see none on her. Rather she leaned out her head to pronounce the shape of her neck. The smooth curve and ample skin. Coat soft and baked in the scent of strawberries.
Her eyes were tired and everything about her was the same. But that hopeless smile won him. Even as he sat, shocked into being awake, sweat on his face... he couldn't rise into anger. Even though his expression took to it. That resistance manifested. His eye trained on her... though he didn't deny her.
"Bite me."
His heart fluttered again. This wasn't an offer or a request. It was a demand. First one issued. He remained in his shock without a way out of this. Yet in choosing not to think, he looked down, exhaling a hurricane's worth of air. Closing his eyes and taking a moment to breathe, he then nodded, opening his eyes to look at her.
Twilight beamed out from her half-consciousness, though now, there was a stumble in her step. Fumbling hooves that tapped more than they should on the ground. His frills twitched to catching her heartbeat. Hearing it accelerate much like his. How her tired eyes seemed to come alive even in keeping in that state.
Her neck. Paradise of purpleness. Its scent betokened him to draw near. Leaning into it. Snout pressed into the coat to inhale everything that made Twilight her. Something else tinged with the smell. Sharp inhales to capture more of it. She giggled and danced in place. Being tickled like nothing before.
Then his lips set down on the spot. Comforted at once by the millions of strands and furs that brushed across his scales. Pushing through the softness to the skin beneath, smooth and buttery, teasing a taste of lilac itself.
His fangs pushed forward and their glint was caught in the reflection of her eyes. She watched intently, fearful but not scared, waiting for his move. His claw had set down on her back, conquering the space, forcing her to keep still.
There was a desire to claim her. His eyes closed as he did so. Bearing his fangs into the coat. He nipped at the skin to avoid the sin of piercing through it. Twilight shuddered from the contact as the flesh stretched upward. Muzzle to the ceiling and eyes tightening in pleasure.
And he continued his efforts. Opening his mouth to claim a spot, suckling down on it, fangs coming to grind across the skin there. Nips in places to leave impressions able to be seen through the fur. Little kicks out through her legs as she surrendered to him.
"I'm... yours... please... make me yours..." Twilight's voice hummed out from away, and he was too busy servicing her neck, exploring its shape, taking its taste, and wanting to devour all of it. "I-I enjoy being your prey. K-Knowing you can do as you like to me. Please. I'm yours. All you have to do is take me."
Spike didn't need another order as he swept the mare to the bed, forcing her there, her back sinking into the mattress, the blankets sinking to the depth of her back. Her mane sprawled across the covers as she spread herself. Forearms wide and legs wider. Perfect little pussy teased below.
He fell on top of her without regard. How his immense weight was a pleasant pressure applied onto her softness. He buried his snout into her neck again, inhaling and biting, consuming territory. His hips ground into her barrel's underside, rocking into the plushness, sinking into it, always pleasured by the coat.
To the throbbing of his cock.
It peeked out and slammed down onto her belly, sinking into the pudge, washing around it. It slid forward and back, warmed by the skin's contact, which burned from the heat of his meat. Twilight moaned in a squeak beyond cute. The dragon pulled away at the sound, only for her hooves to wrap over his neck, pulling him in, onto her hungry lips.
And she devoured him in return. Eating away as she ground herself into his package. Arching herself up as to pin his dick between his stomach and hers. Grinding herself to its shape, teased by its hardness, compact, dense, the solidity of it all.
Spike crawled back on the bed as the underside of his shaft started to glide to her crotch's curve. He moaned into the kiss as his arm swept underneath her head to pull Twilight deeper into him. But as wetness doused the hotness of his cock, it startled him, enough for him to break the kiss.
"T-Twilight..."
She breathed and so did he, both of their eyes, open wide, for the first time.
"Spike... what are you... waiting for?"
"I... I don't want to hurt you." He swallowed. "And that isn't a compliment to me. Everything about me is bigger now. And I don't want this—"
"I want this." Twilight arched up to dive her teeth into his neck, biting hard, to the pleasure of them both. She worked at him from here, taking breaks, mere seconds, to speak. "Pin me underneath you. Stuff me full and stop me from wiggling. I want to feel your force. How much you can keep me still. I've been like this for so long. Keeping this weak for you to take me."
"But I don't want to hurt you."
Twilight giggled and smiled in falling back onto the bed. "Things... usually go the way you want to in the end. You're not the only one to have grown. I'm sure you already know that." Twilight leaped up to kiss his chin before falling again. "In a way, we're meant to be together, because I might be the only one to take you."
Spike looked down still, at her chest, not convinced.
"Aren't you tired Spike? Tired of caring so much about things that don't matter? So exhausted from caring that you're unable to care anymore?" Twilight scooted enough to feel his cock rest on her slit, which parted from the weight, submerging him in heat, wetness, and the promise of tightness. "All this flirting. Non-stop sexual tension. Aren't you sick of it?"
Spike kept there for a moment. He denied himself to think. Only to smell the air. Musk beyond sweet yet dense on the snout. It beckoned him to take this. He smiled, feeling his shoulders become loose, lowering into her neck again. He bit as his hips arched up, pulling his cock as well, that was, until his head rested at her entrance.
And then he pushed himself inside to the intense wiggling of the mare. He fell on top of her and weighed her down. Her struggles were of enjoyment as she flicked into him, once then twice, fighting to milk the feeling.
He pulled out and backed his hips and gave her a second's respite. Then he crashed back inside, shooting deeply as he came into her, inhaling at her coat again, holding her body like a pillow. She did the same to him, needing to hold on as she clamped down, hard, on that which filled her everything.
"I... think... this is the most... awake... I've seen you in a while."
Twilight laughed on being rocked up and down, his thrusts gaining rhythm, something she could now handle. She leaned up to kiss him, anywhere, wanting to deliver to him something. "Maybe... I just needed a little bite to wake me up."
It didn't take long for a building at the base of the dragon's cock to urge him into a frenzy. Refusing to back out and instead thrust from deep within. Rocking her body like a toy as the mare wiggled and moaned, muzzle bouncing around. How her lips split, to saliva connecting them.
Twilight didn't need to bother tending a hoof to her clit, it was teased by his every flick, both of them driven to the end, one not left behind. She took his frenzy in love and wrapped the barrels of her thighs around as much as Spike's waist as she could. The itching, burning, overall emptiness of her cunt, it all compounded, in being pleased by the meat, into clamping, holding his cock tight, as the two finished together.
A bath of milky white.
When they finished, they were breathing, heavily, still connected as they came apart. Moments passed until Spike's erection sunk from between her legs. The dragon laid down to the mare, and she looked at him, smiling from beneath her bags. She then rolled onto him, enough space on his chest for her to rest. She kissed at his pecs. In love to simply love.
All while her bottom pinned his shrinking cock, denying its retreat, as his claws reached for the glorious flanks. Round and supple and enough that there wasn’t enough to his palm to hold all that there was to them. He squeezed to her moan. And it drew him on. The covers floated over them, and the two continued with their love, uncaring for anything else.
Author's Note
We all fill various roles in life. Sometimes others' perception of us is viewed through the lens of the role we played for them. From fellow jokester to little brother to group idiot. There's a diverse selection in the roles someone needs from others and the kind that compose a group.
This may be of strange relation to the fic, but, I want to follow this subject a bit more. People come into our lives and our groups and, depending on their personality and function, someone becomes like a type, role, or archetype. They are still their own person, of course, with an individuality that makes them unique.
But someone who acts like a little brother tends to be viewed and treated like a little brother, cared for and teased, all the functions and behaviours that come from that role and different kinds of relationships that connect to it.
This, however, is reaching further from my intention.
I have kept with a group of friends called 'The Boys' for the last while. We've gone through nine generations of events and people coming and going. That tends to be the nature of it. Few stick around throughout it all. But people are expected to come and go as life itself is always about change.
Though people hold their personality and stories, the ones in the group, no longer a part of it, linger with it in their own way. However the role they played seems to become filled eventually. In losing one type of person, that role becomes void in the group, and eventually, someone comes, like the previous person and not and, slowly, they take that spot.
Making it uniquely their own.
Forgive me as this is where I push the narrative and metaphor too far but, what I come to think is that, when a role is missing from your life, one filled by another person, for one reason or another, that space beckons for another person to fill it. Maybe that desire subconsciously alters your actions to go and find such people. Or maybe you begin to see people differently. That, or life is one extraordinary coincidence.
I'd lost someone important to my group. It was right for them to leave but departures bear pain regardless of the goodbye. In the absence of this person, the group went on, not quite the same, but morphing into whatever it needs to be.
The role and space became void.
Then randomly, one day, I received a friend request from a user on this site. It was a user with an account created on the same day, with a strange profile for their Discord, and somehow, they'd gotten my Discord without sharing a server.
My cynicism and negative experiences on this site had smelled a set-up and, allowing this to affect me, I considered the fact of this being a trap or something akin. Some previous foe creating a fake account to do something. All this person had to offer on acceptance was nothing but kindness for me.
And, at once I, suspected it.
Such is the fate of one who spends too much time in toxic places.
Yet relying on the benefit of the doubt, I took the person to be sincere and, in turn, I was genuine. She'd been a fan of my work and simply wanted to say hi. We chatted for a few and I found Spilight was one of her favourite ships. At that she had my respect.
Then Smiley Face sent me the drawing, along with an idea, used for this story.
And that had captured me. The year is 2020 and for people to love these old ships seems to be dead except with a few. Yet here was someone who had read my work and, inspired by that, and why I loved the ship, drew this piece.
It's terrific as it flows something new into something old. Twilight looks tired—as though from the sexual tension between them—and asks, suddenly, for him to bite her. Spike is taken into agitation at the request, though, of course, born from wanting to do it. He is so pumped by it while Twilight is relaxed.
Her idea was exactly as so: the two, flirting now unconsciously, reach the peak where the sexual tension between them is dense. Finally, being tired of it, and just wanting it, she asks the dragon the question. He, of course, is like 'LMAO WHAT BITCH' but then goes for it. She enjoys being his prey before she gets laid.
Roll credits.
The way she phrased the idea is much better than what I wrote here.
I decided not to write the idea as so. This was an idea gifted from Smiley that she previously wanted to write. It's my hope that, someday, she will do exactly that. Not wanting to have taken that, I decided to take the story in a twist. I noticed in the drawing how tired Twilight looks.
And here we cue story.exe.
Twilight looks tired and wants a dragon to bite her. Spike looks as he does (the composition of the two, perfect) like the mare had lit a fuse inside of him. Despite this rise, she is still calm, and it leads to delicious tension.
Sometimes a writer sees a story in the art, one intentional or not by the artist and, in that, they work it back... before taking it forward. Twilight is the type of person to care too much in little things. Becoming a princess and dating a dragon and such. Because the art goes against this, we had to consider, how, then, she came to wind up in such a state.
Here is where the first theory popped.
The world is cast in a strange and dreamy-like state that has caused everyone to not care as much. Everyone has grown older to that state of life we all face now. Where things are starting to matter less and we take everything less seriously. We have become apathetic in being drained of our care to the petty nature of our world.
When things still mattered, Twilight would care about such things, of this and that and whatever the fuck. But in being exhausted of that care, living for the sake of living, to enjoy that which she desires... she starts to crave the dragon.
She couldn't care about how a bad photo would affect her as a princess or any of that. What other ponies think is what they believe. None have an impact on her. Rather she is living for herself and nothing more. The exhaustion of caring about things that don't matter has caused her to care for only the things that do matter.
And everyone else is in this effect. All submerge into their enjoyments without a hint of punishment. We desire to be awake and alert on a bus to not miss our stop or be booted off. Yet everyone on the train snuggles together, coming to leave as they please, not punished at all for fully enjoying themselves.
So we have a world where you can enjoy yourself to your fullest without punishment. Most of the time, we don't enjoy ourselves, feeling as though, for whatever reason, we will be vaguely punished for it. It's that sense and sensation that holds Spike back from being like everyone else.
Everyone who has seemed to have melted into relaxation.
Granted I didn't do the best idea with that. Blame writer's block and inability to write as of late for that. If I had to guess what 'period' of my writing career this is... it would be the experimental stage. I abhor writing in simple prose. I see it as bad, not for others, but when used by myself.
Yet this story has a lot of instances of so. My usual prose isn't seen here and, indeed, hasn't been seen for a while. The kind of stories I'm telling are drastically changing in nature. Indeed the usual crimes of my story remain the same. This piece lacks a theme. I decided to allow the discovery of writing to try and whip something up.
But I was unable to find it before the end.
There were hints of it. That bite ends up waking Twilight a bit more and the act of sex puts them in a tired yet awake state. These are thematic actions and are usually indicative of more—to the theme itself. Had I paced and plotted, I'm sure I would have worked something out, but we must take a hit as it sometimes is.
Perhaps the backstory of this piece is more interesting than its plot. In losing one friend, a week later, I met another like her. Smiley Face is kind and talented and finds the same delights in ships as I do. She is so positive, that I took it for a negative, believing it to be a trap.
For those of you that keep up with my personal narrative, a while ago, the world around me didn't seem real. I'd golf in incredible landscapes only to feel them a part of some simulation. Yet, in coming to remove certain people and behaviours, these acts positively increased my self-esteem; suddenly, the world became real again.
In how I viewed others and myself, how I allowed myself to be treated by others and myself, I found the world became different. In keeping on that better trend, better people have been appearing and, though I don't think myself worthy, due to lack of talent and moral goodness, I can't help but hold, underneath the skin, immense gratitude for all the good starting to surround me.
In the roles of the people I've lost before, now, have been filled by others. This makes me glad, not due to any reason flaunting on having found other people. Instead it's a sigh of relief. The fear of being alone in certain aspects and dynamics, now gone, as someone fills that spot. One can only hope you do the same for them in turn.
It's for this reason I would like to thank Smileyface and Deeri and Mega and countless others that have started this next act of my life on a positive. There are much more and I intend to write of them all soon. But for now I better wrap up this afterward with a declaration.
This story will mark two million words on the site written by me. There is a little bit more of that written on different sites—but we won't mind those. I don't really consider this much of a milestone, but still, an excuse to steal the stage for a moment is always a delight.
It's with this story that I plan on changing my profile picture, for good, to Spike drawn from the most incredible artist alive—NC Mares. There's a bit of a deeper meaning as to what this art means to me but, as I already spent the contents of my wit, I'll have to save such things for another day.
Only that I believe this cements the next act of me being a writer.
I hope this next period proves to be something.
Whatever it may be.
Do well to be well.
Later gang.
~ Yr. Pal, B ~