Spitfire let out an exhausted sigh as she stamped another application. “This job is going to bore me to death.”
Tossing the millionth form into the already massive rejection pile, she leaned back and extended her wings to alleviate the cramps building in her spine. “On second thought, these muscle spasms might kill me before boredom gets the chance.”
Her gravelly voice echoed around the empty office as she leaned back, hooves propped on top of the desk. Just a bit further and her spine would finally stop aching...
The door to her office slammed open with a clang as a deep, haughty voice shouted, “Hey, Spits!”
“Agh!” Spitfire’s legs tensed as her wings snapped shut. Flailing her hooves, she fought to regain her balance, but only succeeded in upending the mountain of Wonderbolt applications lining her desk.
A relentless ringing pounded her skull as scattered leaflets fluttered onto her prostrate form. Grasping around for the tabletop, she hoisted herself up to glare daggers at the intruding stallion now bent double with unrestrained laughter.
“BAH HA HA! Oh my Celestia, you ate it so hard!” he cried, wiping tears from his amber eyes.
Spitfire’s jaw clenched as her hooves gripped the table. Adopting a look of unmitigated fury, she growled, “Frost, you have five seconds before I pound you to dust! Say your prayers.”
Frost rolled his eyes and shot her an unconcerned scoff. “Aww, you know you wouldn’t do that to your big bro~”
“Time's up!”
The creaky table groaned as she launched herself towards his cocky grin. To his credit, he didn’t scream as she advanced, instead adopting a wrestling stance to meet her oncoming tackle.
The two pegasi clashed in a blended flurry of yellow and blue. Despite her smaller stature, Spitfire's momentum overpowered his weighty bulk, pinning him to the ground. Parrying his sloppy swings, she flipped him onto his belly before chomping down on a wing. “Ow! Hey, take it easy with the biti--”
His protests cut short as she caught his neck in a chokehold. Yanking his snowy-white mane, she uttered a resounding battle cry and swung her hoof where it would hurt most.
“AAAGGGghhh!!!”
Frost’s shriek of agony tapered off as he clutched the underside of his barrel. Cradling his now aching family jewels, he crumpled to the floor in a pathetic, whimpering heap.
Spitfire stood up with a look of vindictive pleasure and taunted, “How did that feel, big bro?”
Her muzzle curled into a sadistic grin as he let out a pitiful whine. “What the hay, sis? Are you that desperate to not be an aunt!?”
She flicked her tail across his pained grimace and smirked, “At the rate you’re going, that’s not a problem I’ll have to deal with. When was the last time you had a serious marefriend?”
“Oi! I’m a proud bachelor by choice,” he countered, shooting her a derisive snort. “Besides, last time I checked, I’m not the one with a regular’s discount to Friday night speed dating down at the pub~”
Choking back a stinging retort, she fought to hide the blush now consuming her burning face. “Shut up! At least I’m trying to put myself out there. It’s not my fault guys are intimidated by my perfection.”
Frost rolled his eyes and glanced at the papers now littering the floor. “What were you doing before stomping my balls like a nutcracker?”
“Just stamping some applications,” she muttered, shuffling the scattered forms into another pile. “Most of these applicants don’t even meet the basic requirements for flight school. These ponies know The Wonderbolts is an elite task force, right?”
A smirk formed on his muzzle as she righted her toppled chair. Snatching a form off the towering reject pile, he teased, “My recruits have been great! I'm already finished with my paperwork since our reserve force is completely full.”
Spitfire’s expression soured as she bit the inside of her lip. Suppressing an annoyed huff, she growled, “With your Shadowbolts sucking up all the state funding, I’m not surprised.”
Frost’s cheeriness melted into an apologetic half-smile. Reaching out a comforting wing, he consoled, “Ah, don't let it get you down. Come tomorrow, you'll have so many talented cadets that you won’t have a second to rest!”
A small chuckle escaped her snout as she intertwined his familiar wing with her own. “A promise of unending work and physical torture, huh? You really know how to make a mare feel special.”
Their chorus of laughter echoed around the room, replacing the once oppressive silence. Wiping away tears, Spitfire snorted into her hoof and flashed him a rare genuine smile. “Thanks, I needed that. Next time, cheer me up in a way that doesn’t involve trashing my office, okay?”
Frost put on a flank-eating grin and performed a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am! I’ll be sure to prank you outside so the janitors have to clean up instead!”
This earned him another chuckle as they began cleaning the messy office. Shooting him a confused look, she asked, “Why are you here so early? I thought The Shadowbolts don’t start practice for another hour?”
“Our practice got cancelled since too many fliers called out sick, so I came down here to hang out with you,” he explained, flashing her a mischievous smirk.
Spitfire glanced up from her stamping with a raised eyebrow. “Uh huh, sure. If you're going to lie to me, at least put in some effort.”
Frost let out an exaggerated huff and scoffed, "Me? Lie? Since when can a brother not want to spend time with his dear sister without having some ulterior motive?"
"Since that brother is you. Cut the crap and spill it already. I don't have all day."
Frost’s mane deflated as he dropped his indignant facade. Pawing the floor in submission, he sighed, “Fine. I cancelled practice because I was lazy and wanted to meet some mares at the bar. Want to come with me?”
Her hoof froze above the ink tray as her stomach performed a series of backflips. Avoiding his hopeful gaze, she mumbled, “N-No thanks, I’m not feeling it today.”
“Oh, come on!” he whined. “Are you saying that you’re not lonely as Tartarus? When was the last time you had a real coltfriend?”
Her eyebrows furrowed as she punched the ink tray a little harder than necessary. Stamping another rejection letter, she clenched her jaw and muttered, "Stay out of my love life. It’s disappointing enough, and the last thing I need is your prying.”
His muzzle warped into a disbelieving smirk. “You just aren’t trying hard enough. Follow my advice, and I guarantee there'll be guys fawning over you in no time."
Rolling his eyes, he gave her a cheeky wing bump and snarked, "Of course, you can always keep wasting your bits on those speed dating scams. I'm sure that'll work out eventually~”
Spitfire slammed her hoof down, splattering ink across the current application. Fixing him with a snarl, she reared up and hissed, “I don’t need you telling me that I’m not trying hard enough! It’s easier to snag mares since so many are desperate enough to settle for a dimwitted, mediocre guy like you!”
Her breathing slowed as her shouts echoed around the room. Trying to ignore his hurt expression, she pressed her face into the table and sighed, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault my personal life sucks. I’m just sick of going out every week and not getting so much as a genuine compliment, let alone someone to spend the night with.”
Frost’s gaze softened into a sympathetic smile. Wrapping a wing around her slumped form, he soothed, “I’m not trying to put you down. I just want to hang out and maybe help you find your special somepony.”
Running a hoof through her fur, he gazed transfixed at her athletically toned frame and fiery mane as the multicolored streaks blended together into the most beautiful array of yellow and orange, accentuating her already flawless features.
A light blush dusted his cheeks as a faint whiff of mare musk tickled his muzzle. Resisting her alluring scent, he leaned in and whispered, “Besides, any guy that can’t appreciate your beauty doesn’t deserve a mare as amazing as you.”
Spitfire let out a resigned groan as the familiar drunken ramblings invaded her flattened ears. Glaring accusingly at her smug sibling, she muttered, “How did you make me agree to this? I need a cover story when the guards start asking questions.”
Frost playfully nudged her barrel and snorted, “You’re just looking for a hookup. Would you rather be in that dingy office pushing papers into a file cabinet?”
An annoyed grimace consumed her muzzle as she grumbled, “Don't remind me. From now on, we’re talking about anything besides work, politics, and death.”
Soon, their waitress approached the table and presented their orders. As Frost turned to thank the mare with a flirtatious wink, Spitfire snatched her mug and chugged it in one go. Slamming the empty glass down, she wiped her foamy muzzle and growled, “Another one.”
The waitress blinked back an affronted huff and stalked off to fulfill the order. Frost stared after her retreating form before fixing his testy sister with a reproachful frown. “What was that about? She was just dropping off our drinks.”
Spitfire didn’t reply, instead steeling her nerves for the insurmountable task ahead. Gazing around the crowded bar, she pointed out a potential date and asked, “What do you think about that guy?”
Frost zeroed in on a large, red stallion with a cutie mark of an apple. Swallowing a mouthful of cider, he narrowed his eyes at the fruit-themed symbol and cautioned, “You know he belongs to the Apple Family, right? Do you want to hook up with someone related to your top student’s girlfriend?”
She hummed into her glass, weighing the risks and rewards of banging someone she might meet later. Deciding it wasn't worth the risk, she conceded, “Fair enough, but I bet his dick is massive. Look at the size of him!”
Frost barked with laughter as he coughed up some of his drink. “Is that all you’re looking for? There are way better places than a bar if you just want to get rutted into oblivion.”
Spitfire cuffed him over the head with an admonishing glare. “The guy stuffing me can’t be a complete douchebag, but having proper equipment is definitely a criteria.”
Frost's eyebrow raised at her peculiar phrasing. Clearing his throat, he downed the rest of his drink before broaching, “Are you, uh, interested in mares? If you were, you’d have a lot more options to--”
Rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she held up a hoof and drawled, "I'm not into screwing other mares no matter what those nasty tabloids would have you believe. I swear those journalists have nothing better to do with their lives...”
“I'll keep that in mind,” he chuckled, eyes still roving over the crowded bar. “What about that guy? He seems nice enough.”
Spitfire followed his gaze to where a runty unicorn sat nursing a fruity cosmopolitan. Scoffing at the suggestion, she quipped, “Are you serious? He looks like a stiff breeze might blow him away, and that’s if the girly drink doesn’t knock him out first.”
“Hey, give the little guy a chance. It’s not his fault he got the short end of the gene stick.”
They smirked at each other before bursting into hysterical laughter. Spitfire slammed her empty mug down as he clutched the tabletop, guffawing like an excited yak. Other patrons gave starts of surprise before turning away with a shake of their heads, but neither sibling took notice of their judgmental glares.
Reeling from his own joke, Frost cracked a grin and coughed, “Do you get it? The s-short end of the--”
She relapsed into another giggling fit as the alcohol and terrible pun broke through her inhibitions. “I get it, dumbass! That was terrible!”
“I’d like to see you do better!”
The next few hours consisted of them trying to make each other cause the loudest public disturbance, much to the other patrons’ chagrin. Frost stuck to poking fun at her belligerent moodiness while Spitfire favored jabbing at his masculinity and ability to pick up mares. In the end, neither could agree on a victor and promised to resume their contest over the next break.
Spitfire gulped down another mug of nasty swill before letting out a belch that could be heard in the Dragonlands. Motioning for another refill, she focused her bleary eyes through a window and shouted, “Sweet Celestia, it’s almost dark out!”
Frost lifted his head off the counter and yawned, "Horsefeathers, I stopped paying attention a while ago. Do you see any good stallions now?”
As she scanned the fresh batch of patrons, her eyes glazed over the teeming mass of mares. Squinting past the sea of estrogen, she huffed, “Ugh, I hate being straight. Finding another lesbian here would be way easier than picking out a stallion that may or may not even... exist...”
Her voice trailed away as the stallion of her drunken dreams emerged from the restroom. The mug that had been mere inches from her lips now hung loose as it spilled its contents onto the table. Roving over his impressive form, her inebriated mind greedily indulged in this delectable specimen.
The tall, blue-coated stallion strolled out while swishing his vermillion mane. His dazzling eyes flashed with mischief as he trotted towards the open bar, eager to enjoy a fresh pint. From her delicious backstage view, she could barely glimpse the copious package this deceptively tight stallion concealed under his muscular barrel. 'Not bad, but still not as meaty as--'
A warmth seeped between her back legs as she licked her thirsty lips. Steadying herself on the counter, she leered at the fine piece of meat and hissed, “Frost, look at that guy!”
He hushed her with a wing bump and whispered, “I see him, but I don’t think he’s going to be on the market for long.”
Sure enough, a pink unicorn with purple mane extensions approached and began flirting shamelessly, almost to the point of public indecency. After a minute of failed advances, the stallion held up a hoof and waved her off, crushing the poor mare as she plodded away with her tail between her legs.
Frost let out a sympathetic whistle and murmured, “Ouch! Do you really want to hit on this guy? He doesn’t look like the type to let mares down easy.”
Spitfire snatched his drink and downed it before he could protest. Shaking the empty glass, she smirked, “Who do you think you’re talking to? I’ve dealt with guys way hotter than him and always came out on top, if you know what I mean~”
He stared open-mouthed at his now empty mug before fixing her with a concerned gaze. “How many drinks have you had tonight?”
She waved a dismissive hoof and pouted, “No idea! I just ordered more refills until the mean bartender cut me off.”
Frost’s frown deepened as he wrapped a foreleg around her stumbling barrel. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this. I’d rather not spend the night hungover in a holding cell.”
Shrugging off his comforting hoof, she casually approached the handsome stallion before tossing the bartender a handful of bits. “Two beers for me and my new friend!”
The bartender raised an eyebrow at her slurred tone but scooped up her bits nonetheless. Flipping her fiery mane aside, she playfully bit her lip and asked, “What should I call you, new friend?”
The stallion’s snout scrunched in annoyance as he fixed her with a harsh glare. Slamming his empty mug down, he growled, “Look, lady. I don’t know who you are, but I’m not interested in a…”
Spitfire’s smirk grew as his muzzle dropped to the ground. His green eyes widened so far that she could see her own smug grin reflecting back. Having raised her self-esteem a few notches, she pressed, “Yes, hot stuff? What were you going to say?”
The dumbfounded stallion raised a shaky hoof and stammered, “H-Hold on, you’re Spitfire! You’re c-captain Spitfire of The Wonderbolts! I’m such a huge fan!”
Her eyebrows creased as she cast a sidelong glance at his ecstatic smile. ‘Oh, boy. He’s another super-fan. The press will have a field day if I’m not careful.’
Fixing him with a suggestive stare, she soothed, “That’s right; it’s me. So, what’s an intelligent, sexy stallion like you doing in a place like thi--”
A high-pitched squeak cut her off as he frantically pulled out his backpack. Rifling around books and binders, he shoved the clutter aside and stuttered, “Wait! I know I have one in here! Please just hold on while I get it out.”
Spitfire blinked as he flipped his bag upside down, scattering papers across the countertop. Ignoring the bartender’s angry protest, she leaned a cheek on her hoof and smirked, “It’s okay, kid. I’m on the pill right now, so you don’t need to worry about a c--”
Before she could finish, the overenthusiastic stallion thrusted a quill and a sheet of paper into her hooves. “Found it! Can I please, please get your autograph, Captain Spitfire!? I have all your memorabilia, and a real signature would finally complete my collection!”
She stared dumbfounded at the feather now fused into her hoof. Making sure it didn’t leave an imprint, she drawled, “Kid, I’ve had a really long day, and I’m not in the best autographing mood. How about we do something a bit more... engaging~”
Any possibility of sexual gratification evaporated as his smile vanished faster than a cheesecake in Celestia’s dining room. Flattening his ears in disappointment, he let out a small sniff and whimpered, “I-I’m sorry I bothered you, Captain Spitfire. I'm sure you have more important things to do right now. I'll just... go...”
His droopy mane and crestfallen expression pierced her heart as he stumbled towards the exit. Scraping up his messy homework, he plodded into the chilly night air, wincing as a stiff breeze sent some of his worksheets flying into the wind.
Spitfire stared after him with a mixture of sadness and irritation. Despite feeling sorry for the poor kid, the thought of signing another Celestia damned autograph made her early-onset carpal tunnel flare up in protest.
Shoving the crumpled paper at the confused bartender, she downed both beers with a grimace before shuffling back to her original table, catching several glares from the mares now robbed of their opportunity.
Her normally robust, fiery mane seemed to sag as all the hope drained from her defeated corpse. Trudging through the faceless crowd, she blinked back tears as her watery eyes began to sting.
Wiping away the binge drinking residue, she approached her now preoccupied brother with a beseeching gaze, begging for a sympathetic ear. “Pack it up, Frost. I can’t stand being here for another sec--”
She froze as his blue coat and white mane popped out from between two pairs of frisky, purple hooves. Separating his muzzle from his conquests, he snarked, “Oh, Spits! I thought you already left with someone. I’m a little busy at the moment, so now’s not a great time.”
The smaller of his two mares stopped nuzzling his neck and peered at him with a trace of suspicion. “Is this your marefriend? You said that you were single!?”
Frost wrapped a wing around her small, delicate frame and soothed, “No, babe! She’s my sister, not my marefriend!"
The larger mare broke her sloppy makeout session with him and scoffed, “You need to learn your celebrities. That’s Spitfire, the captain of The Wonderbolts.”
Spitfire’s gaze focused on the larger mare as her drunken brain rang a bell of familiarity. “Haven’t I seen you somewhere before? You look really familiar.”
The mare let out a half-joking, half-affronted huff and drawled, “I would hope so. I was part of The Wonderbolt cadets when Rainbow Dash and that other crazy mare almost destroyed the academy with that tornado.”
Before her drunk captain could reply, she fixed her sultry gaze on Frost’s lips and chuckled, “Now, let’s pick up where we left off~”
The two mares entered a full-blown tongue wrestle with his muzzle sandwiched between them. Frost licked his greedy lips before diving in, adding his own tongue to the messy, thrashing pile of slimy tasters.
Spitfire’s eyes narrowed as the muscles in her jaw clenched tight. The sight of her brother being tongued down by not one, but two undeniably attractive mares caused her queasy stomach to perform more backflips than during most Wonderbolt shows. His throaty, masculine moans invaded her ears, fanning the flames already burning from her most recent disappointment.
She averted her stony gaze from the shameless orgy when the two mares began swapping his saliva between their adorable muzzles. Fighting back a fresh surge of tears, she snatched her bag from under the table, retching as the mares' drenched thighs came into view.
Fixing her traitorous brother with a look of pure contempt, she growled, “Since you're obviously too busy to walk me home, I’ll just fly my own drunk ass through traffic! See you never!”
A loud squelch permeated the room as Frost fought to extricate himself from the three-way makeout session. Dodging the horny mares’ succulent lips, he stared after her with a mix of exasperation and concern. “What’s wrong, Spits!? What happened to Mr. Dreamy?”
His cocky grin vanished as Spitfire whipped around to shoot him a venomous glare. Curling her lips into a snarl, she hissed, “Thanks for reminding me, flankhole! Either that or you just didn’t care enough to watch my miserable failure. Why don’t you go back to getting double-teamed since that’s obviously more important than being with me!?”
Frost gaped as she slammed the bar door shut, shocking several other patrons out of their drunken stupors. After a second of dumbfounded silence, he fumbled with his wallet before haphazardly dumping its contents onto the table.
The gold coins clattered across the counter as he snatched his bag and started towards the exit. The moment he moved, two sets of fuzzy hooves enveloped him while a pair of muzzles sloppily pecked each of his cheeks. “Where do you think you’re going, mister?”
Whipping around, he gulped as the two horny mares clung to his coat with seductive gazes that put Princess Cadence to shame. Swallowing what felt like a mouthful of sawdust, he croaked, “I-I need to go help my sister. Something’s not right, so I should really be there for her.”
The larger mare waved a dismissive hoof and snorted, “Don’t worry about that. The captain’s always been tough enough. If something’s bothering her, she’ll deal with it on her own.”
The smaller mare lowered her wings to gently caress his hind legs. Leaning closer, she delicately sampled one of his twitching ears and whispered, “For now, why don’t you show us a good time instead~”
A dull knock echoed throughout the dark, musty dwelling. The lone mare inside ignored it, choosing instead to bury herself deeper into her blanket.
Seemingly undeterred, the knocker rapped against the door as his attempts went either unnoticed or unheeded. After a few minutes of no response, he bent over and uncovered a small key hidden behind a small vegetable garden and twisted it inside the stubborn lock.
Slowly opening the unlatched door, he peered through the gap into the messy living room where a few dozen empty beer cans lay scattered about the floor. Scrunching his muzzle, he cautiously entered before blinking back a look of piteous concern.
Gazing around the unkempt apartment, he tossed his bag into a closet where it joined a manhandled purse on the floor. Flicking water off his soaked mane, he muttered, “Damn it, sis. What are you doing to yourself?”
A quiet sob broke through the deafening silence. Wading through the landfill of alcohol containers, he approached the quivering mass on the floor with newfound urgency and whispered, “Spits, are you okay?”
The shuddering mare gave a squeak of surprise before glaring at the home-invader. As her vision slowly regained focus, his iceberg-blue coat and snowy mane glowed in the darkness, followed closely by his warm amber eyes now gazing into her own tear-stained face. “F-Frost? Is that you?”
His muzzle curled into a cocky grin. “Who else could it be? I’m the only guy you’ve brought home in the last decade.”
A ghost of a smile flitted across her lips as the terrible joke dragged out a hollow chuckle. Wiping away tears, she shot him a half-hearted smirk and mumbled, “Hilarious. I’d be rolling with laughter if not for the salt you’re rubbing into my open wounds.”
The two shared a laugh as Spitfire struggled out from her cocoon of isolation. Staggering to her hooves, she wobbled in place before steadying herself on his fuzzy barrel. Relishing in her brother’s warmth, she let out a tipsy giggle and sighed, “You’re so comfortable. I wanna use you as a pillow~”
Frost uttered an amused scoff and guided her into the only vacant sofa. Brushing empty beer cans off the stained pillows, he quipped, “Just remember that I charge by the hour, so try not to fall asleep.”
Spitfire gave a small hiccup before settling into the cushy armchair. Fixing him with bleary eyes, she mumbled, “I’m surprised you’re not out there getting double-teamed by those other mares. Were you not in the mood for a threesome, or have you finally decided to come out of the closet?”
He gazed wistfully into the ceiling and sighed, “I won’t lie. I was looking forward to punching my threesome-with-sisters card, so you better appreciate what I’m doing for you~”
Her muzzle soured into a resentful grimace. “Well, I’m so sorry for ruining your eventful sex life. If you leave now, I’m pretty sure those two would still be down to fuck, so don’t let my problems get in the way.”
She made to stand up, but his feathery wings gently pulled her back into the couch cushions. Returning her stubborn pout, he cradled her barrel and whispered, “No way, Spits. Those mares may have been super hot, but you’ll always be more important to me.”
Her breathing hitched as he wrapped her shivering form in a comforting embrace. She returned the affectionate gesture by cooing into his perked ear, nuzzling the fuzzy cheek now emanating a desperately needed warmth.
Frost breathed into her fiery mane, reveling in his sister’s natural scent while gently stroking the delicate fibers. Spitfire leaned back and enjoyed his loving ministrations, only speaking to let out an appreciative sigh.
Eventually, he broke the intimate contact and asked, “Do you want to talk about what happened? You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”
Spitfire reluctantly snapped out of her dreamy stupor. After a moment of hesitation, she muttered, “That guy at the bar recognized me and went fan-crazy.”
Frost's confused gaze shifted to exasperation as he exclaimed, “Wait, he was a Wonderbolt fan!? Why the hay aren’t you out there getting raw-dogged? That should have been the easiest mark of all time!”
Her expression darkened as she cuffed him over the head. “I’m not going to jump into bed with just any stallion! Despite what those nasty writer's publish, I'm not that loose.”
“Yeah, ain’t that the truth…”
His snarky remark cut short as her hoof crashed into his side. Clutching the bruised area, he shielded his body and panted, “It was just a joke, sis! I know you haven’t had anything in there for at least a-- oof!”
This unwise crack earned him another punch as her second hoof jabbed at his exposed belly. Fighting back tears from both his own wit and her increasingly harsh punishments, he asked, “Why didn’t you hook up with him? I thought you liked being the cool, wild mare that did her own thing?”
She paused halfway through winding back another blow. Lowering her poised hoof, she exclaimed, “I do! I love being the hardcore drill sergeant that strikes fear into every cadet that marches out of formation. I wouldn’t trade my position for anything in all of Equestria!”
Her excited grin melted away as she finished, “But when it comes to the moments in between the badass stunts, not many stick around after the show. It’s always ‘captain-this’ or ‘captain-that’, but no one seems to care about the mare under the uniform.”
She gazed forlornly at her muscular legs and messy mane. “It doesn’t help that I’m not exactly the model of feminine beauty. The strength and endurance are great and all, but most stallions see that as a drinking and hoof-wrestling buddy, not dating material.”
Frost let out a disbelieving snort. “What backwards showmare said that garbage? I speak for all stallions when I say that having a cool, awesome, totally ripped mare taking charge is one of our biggest fantasies. Any guy that says otherwise is either in denial or a Celestia damn liar.”
The two shared another laugh as they snuggled closer together. Glancing at her still somewhat gloomy expression, he pressed, “What kind of stallion are you looking for? Maybe I could recommend one of my friends if he fits the bill.”
She considered his question and hummed, “He shouldn’t be a crazy super-fan. I’m all for audience interaction, but dating one of them is a PR nightmare and lawsuit waiting to happen.”
Frost chuckled under his breath. “If you end up behind bars, I’m not stuffing anything into anywhere to break you out~”
Spitfire snorted into her hoof at the hilarious image. Regaining her senses, she gave him a playful shove and continued, “He should also be cool and easygoing. I can't listen to those snobby business ponies any longer than I have to.”
Nodding, he checked off a few more names from his admittedly short list of friends. “No fashionistas or politicians. Got it. Any other requirements, your highness?”
She flashed him a grin and countered, “Hey, you’re the one that offered to build my ideal stallion. He should also be tough and bulky. As fun as it is to tease little guys, I need somepony that can at least keep up with me.”
Frost groped the muscles adorning her athletic frame and quipped, “You might want to rethink that policy. The only stallions that can match your freaky workouts are earth ponies, and even they might struggle.”
Spitfire wasn’t listening. Instead, her gaze fixated on the thick, muscular foreleg currently wrapped around her barrel.
Staring at his body with great interest, she continued, “He should also be someone that I know and trust. Hookups are one thing, but I want to know him before we commit to anything serious.”
A confused frown laced Frost's muzzle as he wracked his brain for a suitable candidate. “Okay, so you want a pony that you already know well. I’m pretty sure that eliminates most of my friends.”
Plowing ahead with her fever dream, she ran a hoof along his well-toned frame and murmured, “He should also have a lot of blue on his body. I have a... thing for guys with blue fur.”
A rosy blush dusted her cheeks as she covered her face with her hooves. ‘What in Tartarus are you saying!? He’s your brother, and you’re drunk! Stop this before you do something you’ll both regret!’
A long silence permeated the room as the blue hoof around her waist tensed in shock. Spitfire felt his heartbeat race as blood rushed throughout his panicked body. ‘Oh no, why did I say that!? He’s going to think I’m a freak! Quick, take it back before he disowns you!’
“F-Forget about that last part! I don’t really care what color his coat is! Just focus on the--” she stammered before Frost cut her off with a gentle squeeze. “Oooh! I see where this is going! If you had such a huge crush, why didn’t you say so?”
Her anxious grimace flickered to surprise. Of the many things her brother was, she never took him for a family-fooler. Fighting to steady her thumping heart, she stuttered, “W-Wait, you’re okay with it!? You aren’t turned off by the idea at all!?”
“Of course not!” he replied, confusion overtaking his gaze. “Why would I be turned off by you crushing on a teammate? Soarin has a lot of things going for him, but I think he’s already dating one of the other fliers. What was her name, Fleetfeet or something?”
“...what...”
Frost’s flank-eating grin didn’t abate as he snarked, “Oh, come on! You’re obviously talking about Soarin. How many cool, easygoing, muscular, blue, non-fanboy stallions do you know? He’s your second-in-command, so you must be close.”
Her eyes darted around as his cluelessness gave her the perfect escape. ‘What are you waiting for!? Hurry up and agree before he looks any further into it!’
The words danced on the tip of her tongue, but a second voice interjected, ‘No way! You can’t run away from these feelings forever!’
‘Get out while you still can! Do you really want to risk him abandoning you for your sick, twisted fantasies!?’
‘Don’t listen! You’re the hardcore, badass captain of The Wonderbolts, right? Then mare up and tell him before he’s taken by some other tramp!'
Frost’s eyebrows furrowed as she clutched the pounding in her temples. Wrapping a soothing wing around her, he asked, “What’s wrong? I’m sure you and Soarin can talk things out.”
He cracked another sheepish grin and chuckled, “Who knows? Maybe him and his girl will split up once you confess. They might even invite you into a herd if you’re lucky.”
“It’s not Soarin!”
The words had escaped her mouth before she had a chance to stop them. Relapsing into bashful silence, she buried her head in her hooves as another wave of embarrassment flooded her already scarlet face.
Frost blinked back his surprise. Recalling his last encounter with The Wonderbolts, he mumbled, “Isn’t he the only blue stallion on the team? I can’t remember you ever hanging out with a guy outside the main crew.”
His warm, delicate feathers compelled her braver half into action. Quelling the doubts plaguing her mind, she whispered, “It’s not a stallion on The Wonderbolts. He… he’s part of The Shadowbolts.”
After a moment of torturous suspense, his expression darkened as he scowled, “Is it that Zephyr Breeze guy!? If he so much as looked at you, I’ll wring his neck out with the dishonorable discharge papers being shoved down his lousy turquoise thro--”
Spitfire’s jaw clenched as she let out a yell of frustration. Whipping around, she gripped his ears in a vice and screamed, “It’s you, you stupid, dumb, brainless, obstinate, thick-headed moron! I have a huge crush on you!!!”
Frost’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as a strangled gurgle escaped his muzzle. Eyeing her with shock, he stammered, “B-But… we’re… you’re--”
He gaped as waves of embarrassment pulsed off her agitated coat, causing his own fur to stand on end. Clearing his parched throat, he whispered, “Are you serious, Spitfire?”
She flinched as her full name rolled off his tongue. Closing her watery eyes, she mumbled, “I don’t know how long I’ve felt this way, but I can’t hide it anymore. I can’t stand the thought of you being with someone else."
Spitfire focused her efforts on breathing as her voice strained with each humiliating word. “I get jealous when you so much as talk to other mares, and seeing you make out with those girls tempted me to do so many unspeakable things. I’ve tried forcing myself to stop seeing you this way, but I can't deny it any longer.”
Wrapping a wing around his stiff frame, she leaned in and kissed him full on the lips. “I love you.”
Her panting tapered off as she finished her ranting confession. Frost’s hooves gripped her barrel with such firmness that her labored breathing began to feel uncomfortable.
A chilling dread washed over her rapidly sobering mind. Crying into his petrified hooves, she wailed, “I know you’re disgusted by what I’m saying! You think I’m a sick, twisted freak that lusts after her own brother, but please hear me out!”
She placed a trembling hoof over his racing heart and murmured, “Whenever you’re around, I forget about the stress and hardships from my boring-ass job. I forget about all my academy records being shattered by that overzealous rainbow showoff. I even forget about other stallions because I know they’ll never compare to you.”
A whimper escaped her sagging form as she sobbed, “I don’t expect you to feel the same way. If you want to disown me now, I’ll leave and never speak to you again. We’ll just be strangers that happen to be related, no matter how much that would kill me inside.”
Another round of silence permeated the room as her weeping dampened into muted sniffling. Overhead, Frost’s frozen face remained fixed on her shaking form clenched in his hooves. For the second time that day, he gazed transfixed at her athletically toned frame and fiery mane, but this time without the tinted glasses of a sibling.
Even in such a disheveled state, her short, spiky mane fell across her face as it brushed over his snout. The delicate hairs tickled his nose, causing his nostrils to flare out as her alluring musk invaded his senses. Her soft chest fluff warmed his barrel as her trembling hooves tightened around his tensed frame. Shifting in place, her slim, shapely flanks pressed deeper into his lap as he desperately fought to keep his libido in check.
Frost felt his forelegs reach towards her captivating haunches before an angry voice screamed in his conscience. ‘What in Tartarus are you doing!? She’s your sister, you decrepit animal! Shove her away now!’
His hooves hesitated as she wept over his shoulder. Blushing at their close proximity, he breathed in more of her heady musk and thought, ‘But… she needs me. I can’t just turn my back on her.’
‘Are you insane!? Do you have any idea what ponies would say about this!? Both your careers would be ruined! You’ll never find anyone else if you’re branded as an incestuous freak!’
An angry glare flashed across his muzzle. Why should what other ponies thought matter to them? Isn’t finding true love more important than anything else in the world? So what if the mare of his dreams turned out to be his sister? That just meant they’ve had plenty of time to know each other.
Grasping her quivering hooves, he gently pulled away to return her pleading, desperate gaze. Fixing her with a reassuring smile, he soothed, “Spits, look at me. I promise I’m not mad.”
Her shaky breaths warmed his snout as she let out a series of hiccups. Filling her lungs with fresh air, she whispered, “You’re not going to disown me?”
He wiped away the tears coating her hopeful face. Rubbing her slightly sticky cheek, he chuckled, “Of course not! It’ll take a lot more than that to get me off your back. Better luck next time.”
They shared another laugh as Spitfire relaxed into his embrace. “Thank Celestia! Are you really okay with how I feel?”
Frost pulled her into another hug and squeezed their barrels together. “Of course! I’ll always love and care about you, no matter what.”
She let out the breath caught in her throat and ran a hoof through his snowy mane. Nuzzling into the crook of his neck, she asked, “Where do we go from here? Should we pretend this never happened and just be normal siblings again?”
A fresh wave of mare musk flooded his nostrils as her body reacted to the presence of a handsome, muscular stallion. Her natural aphrodisiac instantly aroused his muddled mind, dampening his previous reservations.
Roving over her pert flanks, he admired the effort she took to maintain her slim physique. Stroking the delicate tail fibers, he pinched her tight haunches and whispered, “How about we skip dinner and go straight to dessert. I didn’t order any food at the bar, so I can’t wait to eat out somewhere else~”
She jumped as something hard slid between her thighs. Gaping at his little friend, she let out a surprised squeak and stammered, “W-Wait, you want to do it now!? Not that I would mind, but I thought you’d be more reserved about banging your sister.”
Leaning into her perked ears, he growled, “You’re not the only one who’s been taking second glances. Ever since you started training for The Wonderbolts, I’ve been holding myself back from pouncing on those juicy flanks.”
Adopting a seductive smirk, she smothered his expanding rod in her cheeks and taunted, “Oh? Have you been lusting after your little sister? That’s so naughty~”
Spitfire moaned as his cock gave another angry throb. Flicking his muzzle with a hoof, she whispered, “How about I deliver the punishment in my bedroom? It’ll be easier lying down.”
Frost chuckled at the terrible innuendo. Stumbling towards the bedroom, he rubbed his pride between her back legs, grinning as her glistening thighs coated his stiff member with delectable juices.
A shuddering moan filled the room as they collapsed onto the bed. Before he could mount her, Spitfire reversed their positions, flipping him onto his back as she smashed their muzzles together. Adding insult to injury, she slipped her tongue into his stuttering mouth, asserting her signature hardcore dominance.
A submissive groan dragged itself from his throat before he could stop it. As her slimy taster explored his mouth, she worked over his erection, gently stroking the fleshy pole with her incredibly soft belly fur.
The sensual torture continued until she broke the impromptu makeout session with a pop. Nibbling one of his ears, she panted, “I want you to fuck me, right here and now. Don’t hold back. Give me everything you’ve got!~”
Flashing him a better view, she flicked her tail aside and bent down to present her hidden treasure. Her drenched lower lips drew his attention to the glistening hole she so desperately needed filling. Her once subtle heat scent now permeated the bedroom, reverting his mind to the most primal of breeding instincts.
Focusing on nothing but the alluring pussy now begging for attention, his hooves groped the supple flesh on her haunches as his snout lowered to introduce her soaked, puffy lips with his own.
“Aghh!”
Spitfire glared at her brother now tongue-deep into her citrusy honeypot. Her panting muzzle opened, but only muffled whimpers of frustrated pleasure escaped as he continued his teasing licks.
Recovering from her momentary weakness, she kicked one of her back hooves and groaned, “H-Hey, I told you to fuck me! Stop eating me out and shove that dick in before I do it myself!”
Frost adopted a cocky grin as her pussy clenched desperately around his entrenched muzzle. Pulling out, he licked her copious fluids off his snout and growled, “I think you need to be taught a lesson. After all, I’m the big brother here, and that little sneak attack was very, very naughty~”
She moaned as one of his hooves glided around her entrance, never straying close enough to keep her suspended in agonizing arousal. Her slick lower lips winked invitingly, begging for the sweet release he refused to provide. “Aghh! Frost, if you don’t shove that little prick into me soon, I’m going to chop it off and use it as a-- Mmh!”
Her horny threats cut off as his forelegs wrapped around her muzzle. Spitfire grimaced as her own juices ran down her fur, mingling with the sweat from his torturous teasing. His hot, steamy breath tickled her ears as he slid his member across her desperately winking honeypot. “Beg me, sis. Beg me to pound into you until your eyes roll back and you can't take anymore!”
Her dominant spirit flared up as she bared her teeth against his clenched hooves. Bucking her hips, she squeezed his twitching shaft and growled, “Eat… my… ass…”
Her defiant glare faltered as his muzzle split into a maniacal grin. Releasing her aching jaw, he pushed her chest into the bedsheets before returning to her raised hindquarters. “If you insist~”
“G-gahh!”
Stiffening in shock, her tailhole clenched as his slimy tongue coated its outer ring in a thick helping of saliva. Gaping at his satisfied smile, she stuttered, “A-Are you actually into this kind of stuff!? I never thought you’d go down on a mare’s ass.”
Her slit winked as his sticky ministrations sent pleasurable tingles throughout her body. Shoving his muzzle deeper into her plot, she grinned, “In that case, who am I to say no? You’re lucky I took a shower before we left, but I’m sure you would have loved it either way~”
Spitfire squirmed as he feverishly suckled her now dripping holes, which winked and clenched around his tantalizing organ. Quelling her resistance, she let out a desperate, whorish moan and wrapped her legs around his head. “Celestia damn it! I can't take this anymore. Please, fuck me!”
His slimy tongue ceased its movements as he fixed her with a diabolical smirk. Teasing her inner thighs mercilessly he taunted, “What’s the magic word?”
She bit back a snarl as her sensitive clit gave a jolt of frustrated pleasure. Swallowing her pride, she peered at him with a half-pleading, half-murderous glare and breathed, “p-please…”
Frost’s muzzle curled as he pulled away from her quivering pussy. Lining himself up, he planted a steamy kiss on her lips and whispered, “That’s all I needed to hear~”
“A-Ahnngg!”
Her back legs trembled as his cock scratched the itch she so desperately needed. Breathing in his musky aroma, her panting breaths hitched as he slapped against her shaking thighs.
“F-Fuck! Frost, you’re so-- Mhff!” She groaned as he slowly retreated from her warm, sticky confines. Her wings gave an unsubtle twitch before springing out, completely erect against his fluffy underbelly. “Oh my Celestia, I need this so bad!”
Grinning into the bed sheets, she clenched around the tip of his cock, causing him to let out an unprepared moan. “Come on, bro. Don’t tell me you’re close already~”
Frost bit his lip as her underhanded tactics sent jolts of torturous pleasure up his spine. Pulling out entirely, he rested the sensitive flesh across her panting body and groaned, “Damn it, Spits! You know I’m weak from those mares at the bar. At least give me a chance to please you before sucking me dry.”
She chuckled at his pleasured predicament. Rubbing his twitching cock between her well-lubed cheeks, she cooed, “Aww, that’s so considerate. No wonder other mares talked so highly about you~”
She flipped around so they faced each other before caressing his sweaty cheek. Leaning in, her sultry gaze locked onto his pleasured grimace as she breathed, “Let's do something else to let you recover.”
“W-What are you talking abo-- Mhhff!” His voice broke as she pulled him into another round of tonsil hockey. As her familiar tongue invaded, he steeled his nerves and fought back against her tongue, creating a cacophony of wet slaps and quiet moans.
After a minute of ceaseless battle, he managed to overpower her and began exploring her wet, cavernous maw. Her warm saliva slid across his tongue as it danced in tandem with hers, sending streaks of combined spit down their fur. As they deepened their makeout session, his greedy hooves groped her well-toned flanks, causing her to let out a ticklish giggle.
They finally emerged from the depths, gasping and panting as they stared into each other’s eyes. Fixing him with an impressed gaze, she teased, “You’re a really good kisser. Is that the only thing you’re good at?”
Indicating his still-erect member, he ran a sneaky hoof along her thighs and grinned, “That depends. Do you think you can handle all of this?”
Spitfire presented her backside with her chest down and tail flagged. Swaying her shapely rear, she bit her lip and whispered, “I’m not the one you should worry about. Let’s see if that little twig can handle being inside a real mare.”
Narrowing his eyes at the alluring display, Frost breathed in her overpowering musk and growled, “I’m done playing nice colt. Now you'll see just how much of a stallion I can be!”
Spitfire let out a squeal as the sudden penetration sent jolts of pain and pleasure through her already shaking body. Pulling back, his stiff member almost slipped out before plunging back in, scraping against the sides of her needy tunnel. A resounding slap echoed around the room as his hips met hers, causing both ponies to groan at the incredible sensations.
A familiar tingling began building in her loins as he slid against her deprived nerves. ‘~Agh! I can’t be this close already! How is he doing this to me!?’
Desperate, whorish moans escaped her drooling muzzle as her resistance crumbled under his rough pumping. Frost’s muzzle curled into a satisfied smirk as she began clenching around his cock. Slapping her flanks, he taunted, "Mmf- are you going to cum already?”
His warm breath and deep voice tickled her ears, sending more tingles throughout her overworked body. This, combined with another series of powerful thrusts, proved to be too much as her arousal surpassed unbearable levels.
“AHHmmpph! MMhhhh, Hhaaa!~”
Letting out a howl of pleasure, her back legs stiffened around his waist as she forced him in deeper. Her vice-like muscles began clenching, attempting to milk out as much seed as possible.
Frost’s muzzle contorted into a grimace as he held back the rush of cum practically begging to explode from his tip. Flaring his wings, he bit down on a hoof to prevent himself from prematurely releasing into her pulsing cunt as it begged for his foals.
After several seconds of blissful pleasure and torturous pain, he pulled out of her warm, sticky confines, causing his cock to twitch and throb angrily at the lack of stimulation. Her sensitive walls clung weakly to his retreating member until it slipped out, sending a rush of mare cum dripping onto the bed.
Spitfire collapsed onto the soiled bed sheets with a satisfied smile. Panting to refill her empty lungs, she gushed, “F-Fuck… I can’t believe I came so fast! Maybe you aren’t such a lightweight after all.”
Before she could regain her senses, his hoof forced her chest back into the mattress, causing her to let out a grunt of surprise. “Hey, what are you doing?”
Instead of answering, Frost turned to her dripping folds now leaking with her orgasm’s aftermath. Breathing in the alluring scent, he leaned forward and lapped at her quivering lips, eliciting a groan from the sensitive mare. “Nghh! H-Hold on, dude! I’m still raw down there, so give me a second to recover.”
Another grin broke across his muzzle as he shifted his attention to her other hole. His greedy lips gently smooched her ponut as he caressed her delicate plot. Enjoying her gasps of unmitigated pleasure, he began lubing up her tailhole with more sensual, loving strokes.
Her moans of encouragement urged him onward as her puckered star tightened and relaxed around his slippery organ. Leering back at her plot-obsessed brother, Spitfire purred, “I never knew you liked asses that much. You must really enjoy going down on my flank~”
Frost ended his backdoor service with one more lick to her dripping holes. Fixing her with a suggestive smirk, he whispered, “I love going to town on your delicious flank, but now I want to know how it feels on the inside.”
His forelegs dug into the bed as he mounted her again. Carefully lining up his throbbing member, he teased her tailhole with an experimental probe before taking aim. “I’m about to go in. Are you ready?”
The moment she nodded, her eyes widened as his warm tip began pressing against the tight ring of muscle. Spitfire groaned at the sudden discomfort, but kept her breathing steady to avoid clenching before he was in.
After a few seconds of painful resistance, her asshole finally gave way, allowing his girth to slide into her lesser-used tunnel. A sudden warmth erupted inside as the feeling of her ass being penetrated by a real cock brought a new array of pleasurable sensations.
“Aggghhh! Oooooh…”
Frost’s muzzle contorted into a pained grimace as her asshole clenched around his twitching member, enveloping it in an unbearable heat. Forcing himself back from the edge, he plunged deeper into her ponut until reaching his medial ring. “Gah! Spits, your ass is so tight! I don’t think I can last much longer…”
She glared back with an annoyed huff and growled, “I just started liking it! Don’t blow your load already!” Her haunches bucked as she tried taking more of his length into her pulsing walls.
A shiver raced up her spine as he prodded against her deepest depths. She let out another series of moans as he tentatively thrusted, sending jolts of pleasure throughout their bodies. His expanding ring wantonly slapped against the puckered star, but her unyielding tailhole stubbornly refused to accept his impressive girth.
Frost sighed as another unsuccessful thrust failed to penetrate her clenched hole. “Damn, it won't fit. I guess we’ll have to settle for halfwa-- Ngh!”
His surprised gasp cut short as Spitfire reared up, forcing him onto the bed sheets. With his cock still up her plot, she pinned him against the mattress in an improvised cowgirl position. Leering down at his helpless form, she panted, “That cock is getting into my ass one way or another. If you can’t shove it in, I will!”
His eyes widened to the size of dinner plates as she rammed her flanks down his shaft. The bed gave a strained creak as her ponut descended his fleshy pole, enveloping it in her irresistible warmth. As his medial ring approached, she planted her hooves and arched her back, sending him into a frenzy as her tailhole finally bottomed out to touch his aching balls.
“A-Agghhhh! Fuck!”
His hormone-fueled mind flew over the edge as the dull tingling intensified into an unrelenting surge of white-hot pleasure. Shoving his deprived cock as deep as it could go, he slammed their hips together as the pressure in his balls exploded. “Ngh, fuck! I can’t hold it any more, Spits! I’m cumming!”
Clenching down on his pulsing shaft, she screamed, “Cum! Cum inside your little sister’s ass and stuff her full of your seed! Fill me up until my stomach looks like a fucking balloon, you sick, disgusting pervert!”
Spitfire’s breathing hitched as his sticky sludge began pumping into her tight confines. His dick twitched and throbbed with each successive shot of his incredibly warm load. After a few pulses, her belly felt packed to capacity, but his relentless stream of jizz didn’t abate.
As his mind-blowing orgasm intensified, cum oozed out the sides of her stuffed hole. A warm pressure began building inside, causing her pleasured moans to be replaced by a groan of discomfort. She tried lifting herself off his ejaculating rod, only to shriek as his hooves pulled her back down, effectively trapping the slimy goo in her bloated intestines.
Finally releasing her stuffed body, Frost smirked as her broken form slid off his softening member with a squelch. His grin widened as a thick stream of cum leaked out of her gaping plot and dribbled down her hind legs. “Did you enjoy that? I can’t wait to see you in a diaper because you’re definitely going to need one.”
Spitfire’s glazed eyes snapped back to reality as she registered his smug taunt. Glaring back at him, she plugged her gaping hole with a hoof and panted, “F-Fuck… you… asshole…”
He playfully rubbed her leaking folds and chuckled, “I’m pretty sure it was your asshole that got fucked, but I’d be happy to double-check~”
Letting out a satisfied sigh, he relaxed into the bed covers before spooning her from behind. His thighs pressed against her aching plot as the excess of cum sloshed around her insides.
Turning around, she bit her quivering lip and rested her head across his shoulder. “What are we now? We can’t go back to just being siblings, but I’m not sure if we should be together. What would we do if someone found out?”
Frost wrapped a comforting wing around her barrel and soothed, “I don’t care if anyone finds out. I wouldn’t care if I got kicked out of The Shadowbolts. I’d gladly take the fall for you if it meant we could be together. All I care about is being with the awesome, talented, beautiful mare in my hooves.”
His warm breath tickled the back of her neck as he nuzzled into her fiery mane. “I love you.”
Spitfire’s gaze softened as she planted a gentle kiss on his muzzle. Pulling away from his heavenly lips, she returned his heartfelt affections and whispered, “Thanks, bro. You really know how to make a mare feel special~”
Author's Note
If you have any suggestions or want to discuss the story, please write a comment!
Thanks for reading!
