Twihorse sponkle had wanted to send Spike away for the 'holidays', but you and Big Mac devised a way around her sorcery—you were going to hide Spike away inside the barn, of course, neither of you are particularly intelligent after all—and hope she wouldn't notice.
Luckily for the both of you, the sorcerous witch-horse was so wrapped up in her own animalistic lust that she forgot. The fact that she didn't actually care about her slave's whereabouts helped, naturally. Either way, the day had finally come for the three of you to do the thing. The horny thing. Because it was that time of year, and the day was nigh for you lot to have...
...the sex.
The sex, that most mythical of things, which had been denied to you—because you're fucking hideous both inside and out, Big Mac's married to a prude, and Spike's a grade A simp with no self-respect—was now finally within your grasp! Because if there was one way anyone could ever bear to touch you, it surely must be when they're so brain-addled that they literally have no other choice.
Pushing aside the painful implications for a moment, you and Big Mac finish up the final preparations for the next few days of eBic The Sex-ing, which must surely now commence. You'd been preparing for this all year, and now the time had come.
"You got it all, Big Mac?"
"Eeyup," he said, pushing the final barrel of condoms up the ladder and into the top-part of the barn. Spike was waiting for the both of you up there, hidden behind a stack of porn magazines—the only kind of porn in the horseworld, much to your detriment—you'd been so terribly starved of your C&BT, BDSM, and Dominatrix stuff that your dick had actually shrunk a few centimeters.
"What's taking you guys so long?" Spike called out from behind the crusty Porn Mountain. The stench of cum and horseshit would have been unbearable to more civilized beings, but the lot of you felt right at home. "We need those if we're to survive the month!"
"Shut your whore mouth, Spike," you said, drooling heavily. Even the most barely related reference to The Sex was enough to get you going, you're so badly deprived. "We're ready. This is the last of it."
"Eeyup!" Big Mac said, as he hid the barrel away under a bucket full of feces. Though there's perfectly good plumbing and a toilet nearby, the three of you are practically animals, and so you shat where you slept, ate, and jacked off to the most unmentionable and questionable of horseporns the ponelands had to offer.
"Omg, you guys," you said, pinching your nipples and clenching your ass cheeks to hold in a particularly large chunk of shit you simply refused to let out in a civilized manner. It had to stew in there for a day, minimum. "We're going to get so much The Sex..."
"Hold on a second," Big Mac said then, and pointed to Spike. "Ain't you a bit young, Spike?"
Spike went cross-eyed. "Uhhh, nah bro. I'm like, eighteen."
"What. But that doesn't make any-" you began, like the pussy-ass bitch fucker that you are.
"Shut your whore mouth," he said. Spike pulled out an ID out of his ass then, and true enough, it said he was legit 18 and this fic is legal.
"Alrighty then."
And so, all prepped up and hard, the three of you fucking morons waited around for a whole week for the annual heat to start, because you can't plan for shit and forgot narrative jump cuts only shorten time for the fucking reader, not the characters.
Dehydrated and half-starved, covered in your own shit and cum, the three of you emerged from the barn just as the sky turned red—the moon and sun began to hump each other, and every cloud from Ponyhorsetown to Quadrupedlot was alive with the buttfucking of the pegasi within—ready to join the fucking.
"OH BOY ARE YOU GUYS READY FOR-" Spike began, and promptly fucking died from a gunshot wound, because I'm not sick enough to write that kinda shit. His brains splattered all over you and Big Mac, and the killer made herself apparent.
It was Starlight Glimmer and her trusty ally and most beloved comrade, Trixie "KillABitch" Lulamoon, armed with shotguns.
"Your degenerate bullshit isn't welcome around these parts, fuckers," Starlight said, abs glistening under the moonlight.
"Eat Great and Powerful lead."
You squealed like a bitch as the two only worthwhile beings in the entire country diagnosed you with Dead, being careful to miss every single vital organ and blood vessel, to ensure yours was a slow and painful death, pitiful and pathetic, like your life had been. Big Mac wasn't so fucking lucky.
"EENOPE! PLEASE, JUST FUCKING KILL ME! EENOPE!" he cried, tears streaming down his face as the two badasses of the horseponelands dragged him back to Sugar "Pony Jesus is My Only Fantasy" Belle. A lifetime of marriage, unenthusiastic missionary once a year, and daily Church awaited him, the poor bastard.
"Our work here is done, my dear friend!" Starlight announced then, and her hoof grew fingers. She high-fived Trixie then, whose hoof had also grown fingers.
"Let us return to my wagon and have Great and Powerful sex!"
And together they left you alone, bleeding, dying, and weeping like the sorry shit that you were now painfully aware to be. Horny ponies passed you by all night and day, for the next three weeks, and none of them even contemplated the possibility of fucking you. Though they were wild with lust—insane, really—you were the very last thing they could possibly desire. Not even the Pink Horse would do more than point a hoof and laugh at you while getting railed by every living fucking thing within a five kilometer radius.
In the end, life left your broken body. Your last thoughts alive were as sad and wrong as the rest of your existence:
"...maybe in the next life I will finally be happy..."
You Died.
Author's Note
Not sorry.
