The Baying Moon

Moondancer sat at her kitchen table. The tops of her naked feet dragged along the chair legs and she wrapped her toes around the cross stretcher. She stroked one foot’s arch with the other’s big toe and cupped her hands around her muzzle to stifle a pleasured giggle. The morning newspaper floated up her magic and she sipped out of a novelty coffee mug with the phrase My Weekend is Booked overtop a stack of books printed on the side. The bottom article on the front page informed the readership about ongoing negotiations between the Princesses and the King of the Diamond Dogs over jurisdiction of the case against the dogs arrested in the raid the previous week. Much of it stemmed from weather or not certain crimes were committed above or below ground and what ancient treaties were still valid. Despite being the unnamed victim mentioned by the article Moondancer didn’t hold too many strong feelings about the political squabbling.

Rover, Fido, and Spot had all managed to escape that day. The score of guard dogs arrested, while complicit in her kidnapping and torture, weren’t who Moondancer needed to see brought to justice. She put down her paper and took a long sip of delicious coffee blacker than even Nightshade’s heart. Twilight kept her update on the hunt for those three, she was still concern about Moondancer’s wellbeing and figured the mare would find some closure in their arrest.

‘Twi really is the most caring wonder--’ She stopped her train of thought. ‘No! Doc’s right, it’s not fair to deify ponies… even if they are actually kind of a literal deity.’ Moondancer shook her head and refilled her mug from the boiling pot and downed another cup. ‘One addiction at a time.’

A knock on her door roused her from her ruminations. She quickly washed out her mug and stuck it in the dish drain and hurried over to the door. On the other side was an alabaster unicorn and member of the Royal Guard. He poked his head above the large long box in his arms.

“Ms. Moondancer?”

“Yes?”

“This has been released from evidence and Princess Celestia requested it be expressly delivered to you.”

“My telescope!” Moondancer’s face shined as bright as the sun as she levitated the package into her arms hugging it. “Thank you so much!”

“My pleasure ma’am. Looks like you got another package too.” The stallion picked up a cardboard box on Moondancer’s doorstep and handed it to her.

“Thanks again.”

“No problem, have a nice day.” The guard nodded and strolled away.

Moondancer finagled both her packages inside and closed the door with her foot. A shiver ran down her spine to her cock when her arch pressed against the door’s edge. She shuddered and moaned.

Moondancer set down the telescope’s box and tore it open like a filly on Hearth’s Warming. The telescope was in perfect condition, not a scratch or nick to be found. After a quick nuzzle, she levitated the telescope into her living room and it put on display. She opened her other package too and--

Moondancer’s heart skipped a beat and she dropped the box. It thumped onto the floor followed quickly by her plump posterior. Inside the box was a red collar studded with moonstones and the remote for her tickle torture modified shoes. Moondancer snapped her head over by the door. The red sneakers waited where she left them, too conflicted to throw them away or turn them in.

‘This is bad! This is bad! They know where I live!’

Her heart pounded against her ribcage, she snatched a quill and parchment with her magic and scribbled a frantic letter to Twilight. Her eyes darted around her room, but there was no younger brother dragon to instantly deliver it. ‘Why don’t I know the spell to send letters to Spike!?’

Moondancer shimmed around and watched the door. Any second now it’d be kicked it or ripped off its hinges and she’d be dragged back to Tartarus. Ten seconds passed and no break-ins occurred. Thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes — Moondancer’s body couldn’t keep producing adrenalin when nothing was happening. She reached behind herself and slid the box it front of her. There was something else in there with the collar and remote, a folder sheet of paper. Her breathing accelerated back into panic mode.

‘Call the royal guard. Don’t touch any of it. Just call the guards and let them handle it.’

The tickle shoes glared at her, they judge and shamed her. Moondancer unfolded the letter.

A little thank you gift for putting up with the dogs and me. My offer still stands. Hope to see you soon recruit, your suit is waiting for you.

- Nightshade

Moondancer flipped the letter over; nothing was written on the other side. She pulled the remote out of the box, and twisted the dial on. Her sneakers jumped off her shoe rack. They flopped around and vibrated on her floor. Moondancer switched them off. She reached back inside the box; her fingers traced the collar and its stones and felt something solid beneath it. She pulled out the collar and the fabric under it. Light gleamed off a glass black star in the shape of Twilight’s cutie mark. The contents of the container swished as she held it up, another vial of the black oil that had permanently increased the sensitivity of her feet.

‘She’s just trying to mess with my head. And it’s working.’

Moondancer held the collar and oil in her hands. Her heart raced. Her toes scrunched. Her cock throbbed! The remote and her sneaker were both so close. ‘Tomorrow.’ Her briefs stretched around her growing member. ‘I already missed the mail pony. I’ll just send the letter tomorrow.’ Her mouth was drier than the first edition of The Origin of the Diamond Dogs sitting on her nightstand upstairs. She licked her lips.

Moondancer picked up the box and tossed all its contents back inside. She grabbed her Converse and flew up the stairs to her bedroom. Forgoing socks she slipped on the red shoes, pulled the laces taut, and double knotted them. She buckled her collar on tight, unzipped her pants, and collapsed onto her bed. Her cock was rigid and tented her briefs, her palm glazed over it. She hugged a pillow tight, bit into her sweater, and turned the dial up to eleven.

The End