My Little Scoota2: Scootaloo's Inferno

My Little Scoota2: Scootaloo's Inferno

By Pascal

A fan made sequel to My Little Scootaloo by DontWannaKnow.

Chapter 1

Author's Note

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between characters featured within and any real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

***

The house was as run down as the scouts had reported. Sid and Mac parked their black SUV on the curb, and carefully approached, the collars of their black trench-coats turned up to ward away the chill of the night.

They rang the doorbell. As they had predicted, no one was home. Mac withdrew a pair of long, thin rods from his coat and inserted them into the keyhole. After working the tools inside the lock for several seconds, he twisted them, and the door opened with a click.

They drew their guns and stepped into the room cautiously, careful to stand more than three feet apart so they couldn't both be taken out by a single shotgun blast.

The house was a mess. Beer bottles and old stains covered the floor, and plaster had been chipped off of the walls in many places. The kitchen, living room, and bedroom were empty, save for empty bottles and fast-food wrappers. The pair made their way to the garage. At first glance, the room contained only an assortment of various rusty tools and a battered fridge. Mac searched around the room, tapping the walls and floor and listening for echoes. Sid pulled open the fridge, and let out a long whistle.

"Well I'll be damned," he said.

Inside the fridge was a bucket of chilled blood.

"We're dealing with some kind of a motherfucker, alright."

"Look at this!" Mac exclaimed, picking up a tiny scrap of paper from the floor. "It's a receipt from Rite-Aid. It looks like he bought a fuckload of condoms just over fifteen minutes ago."

"We must have just missed him," Sid growled. "He must have bought the condoms, driven back home, picked up the pony, then left again. He could be anywhere."

"Naw, man. There's only one place in this city you go with a bag of condoms: the red-light district. I'll bet he's pimping her out to cloppers,” Mac replied knowledgeably.

"Know what kind of car he drives?" Sid asked.

"An unmarked, white van I think," Mac replied.

Sid whipped out his smart-phone and posted a new article, "Looking for an unmarked, white van in the red-light district," on ponyvillenightly.com. The comment section immediately exploded with activity.

"We got hits," Sid said. "A few bronies in the field have spotted white vans, and we've got some volunteers sending out rescue parties.”

"That'll narrow our search down," Mac replied. "Alright, we're dealing with some kind of sick fucking psychopath. Let's call the cops, then track the fucker down."

"And tell 'em what? That we broke into some guy's house? They're gonna ask what we were doing in here. We'll do the same thing we did in Seattle. We'll go in nice and quiet, take the pony, and get out."

"The guy in Seattle didn't have a bucket of fucking blood in his fridge! We're dealing with some dangerous shit here, Sid! People could die! We need to get the cops in on this!"

"We're dangerous too, and we can't get anyone else involved. The world still isn't ready to know about Equestria, Mac. We have to keep a low profile, no matter the risk. No single pony's life is worth the carnage that would ensue if humanity discovered Equestria."

The two men were silent.

"You'd do it if it were Trixie," Mac growled.

Sid walked out of the garage with no reply.

***

Scootaloo bounced up and down in her seat at the back of the van.

"What's the surprise, Daddy? Tellmetellmetellme!"

"Something I've always wanted to do with my child someday. I thought it would never come."

"What, Daddy?!"

She looked like she was about to explode from excitement. I let the suspense build for a few more seconds, then raised up the bag of condoms triumphantly.

"We're going to go fuck prostitutes together! Happy birthday, Scoot!"

Her squeal of joy was priceless.

"Oh, Daddy! Thankyouthankyouthankyou!"

I just smiled, turning back to the road as the stoplight changed to green.

"I wanna fuck a big black lady!" Scootaloo said.

"I know just the one," I replied.

We drove through the slums for about fifteen more minutes, hunting for our prey. Finally, I found the perfect ho for Scootaloo. She was a morbidly obese black woman, clad only in a tiger-print spandex two-piece.

"Laquiesha! What up, gurl?" I asked jovially, stepping out of the van.

"It's fiddy dollas fo' a fuck, and sixty if you wanna go in my asshole," she grunted disinterestedly.

"Bitch, what the fuck kinda ho do you think you is?" I replied angrily. "I ain't droppin' mo’ than twenty dollas on yo' skanky ass!"

"How 'bout thirty, and you can take a shit on my face too?"

I scratched my chin, carefully considering the offer, but the sudden screech of tires on asphalt interrupted our haggling. A low-rider full of twenty-something college kids in Fluttershy T-shirts came barreling down the street.

"FRIENDSHIP IS MAGIC, BITCH!" they yelled, whipping out Mac-10's and opening up on us as they went speeding past.

I grabbed Laquiesha by the arm and swung her in front of me. Her blubber easily absorbed all the bullets meant for me in a shower of red splashes. She collapsed into a puddle of blood.

"Scoot, the pipe bomb!" I yelled as the bronies drifted their low-rider into a 180 spin at the end of the street.

Scootaloo rummaged in the back of the van before tossing a homemade explosive at me. I caught it and ignited the fuse with a cigarette lighter.

"Hug this, motherfuckers!" I yelled, tossing the bomb as the bronies came in for another pass.

It landed right on target in the drivers seat. They all flailed their arms and screamed for a split second before the bomb detonated. The low-rider exploded in a giant column of flames, showering burning wreckage and severed limbs all over the street.

Suddenly, blindingly bright lights shone from either end of the alley.

"Freeze, asshole!" a voice shouted.

"Shit!" I yelled, stumbling back toward the van.

"Hand over the pony before we pump your ass full of lead!" shouted a second voice

I saw a figure clad in a black trench coat step in front of the spotlight from down the ally.

"Ow! Don't shoot! I surrender!" I pleaded, kneeling down and pretending to clutch my side in pain as I reached for my gun.

"Put your hands on your head, fucker!" he yelled, rushing closer to meet me.

"Ok, ok!" I whimpered.

I fired through my coat, putting three rounds straight into the guy's chest and sending him tumbling to the ground. Snatching Scootaloo up, I sprinted forward, whipping my gun out of my coat and firing blindly over my shoulder.

Searing pain suddenly exploded in my gut, and I lost my balance and fell. I hit the asphalt hard, cutting through my lip with my teeth. I tried to push myself upright, but my strength was already being sapped away. I'd figured I still had a few ass kicking years in me, but I was well past my prime.

Staring blearily forward, I was shocked to see the man I had just gunned down rising to his feet, a thin tail of smoke trailing from the silenced pistol in his hand. The fucker must have had a kevlar jacket.

"It's ok, Scootaloo. That guy can't hurt you anymore," my killer said.

The last thing I saw before the world slipped away was Scootaloo walking slowly away from me, right into the stranger's waiting arms.

***

"It was so horrible!" Scootaloo sobbed as the man embraced her, stroking her mane gently.

"He. . . he kept me locked up in his house for years, and he hit me and cut me with a knife!"

"It's ok," he repeated softly, holding her close. "My name is Sidneysto, and this is my friend, Mac the Macrophone. We've come to take you away from this horrible place."

"He . . . he made me eat rotten food, and he raped me every day!"

"We're gonna take you someplace safe. There are people who love you, Scootaloo, and we're going to make sure that-EEEEAAAAAUAUUGUHUGUH!"

Scootaloo bit down hard on Sidneysto's penis. She had recently filed her blunt herbivore teeth to razor sharpness, and she sliced through fabric and flesh with ease. Sid collapsed, screaming and clutching his bloody crotch while Mac fumbled for his gun, eyes wide with shock. Scootaloo spat Sid's dong into Mac's face, where it stuck with a sticky splat. He dropped the gun, flailing his hands wildly to get the genitalia off of his face. Scootaloo sprinted forward and bashed her skull into his kneecap. He fell over backwards, his head striking hard against the ground, and he went limp.

"C'mon, Daddy," she grunted, pulling my limp body back toward the van.

She sat my body upright, leaning me against the vehicle's side.

"Daddy, wake up!"

I could make no response, and merely lay motionless.

"Please, wake up, Daddy! Don't leave me all alone!"

She screamed and pounded on my chest, tears streaming down her cheeks. She cried, threatened, and begged, but I didn't wake up.

I was dead.

***

I stood neck deep in a river of flaming tar. The pain was beyond anything I had ever imagined. All around me, the wailing of the damned echoed throughout the vast caverns of Hell. The air was choked with ash and smog, but I thought I could make out a distant, rocky shore ahead of me. I desperately slogged my way through the river, every step wracking my body with pain. I reached my hand out to the shore, but was immediately met with a hail of flaming arrows. They pierced my skin and shattered my bones, and I fell back into the burning oil as a horde of demons laughed raucously at my suffering.

"COME ON! YOU'RE ALMOST THERE!" they taunted.

I choked on oil, swallowing and breathing some as I struggled to regain my balance.

It burned my lungs and stomach. At that moment, every nerve in my body was a searing inferno of indescribable agony.

Suddenly, I found myself lying in a puddle of piss next to a dumpster.

"EEEEAAAAAAUUUUGUGH!" I screamed, my limbs flailing about wildly as electricity crackled through my body.

Scootaloo quickly yanked a pair of metal clamps off of my nipples. They were hooked up to a stolen car battery.

"I brought you back to life, Daddy!" she squealed happily.

"Shit, girl. You really do love me, huh?" I said.

"No, you're just the only human whose cock is small enough to fit in my pussy," she replied.

"You're a bitch, Scootaloo!" I growled, opening my arms wide.

"Fuck you, Daddy!" she said, hugging me.

We held each other for a long moment.

Finally, I staggered to my feet, leaning against the dumpster and breathing heavily.

"We're in deep shit, Scoot," I said.

"It's ok, Daddy," said Scootaloo. "I took care of those guys. They're tied up in the van."

"Not those fuckers!" I snapped. "Shut up and listen! When I was dead, I went to Hell. Hell is fucking real, Scootaloo!"

Scootaloo's eyes went wide.

"You told me that all religions were bullshit fairytales for retards and horny old child-molesters!" she yelped.

"Well I was wrong, ok? Fuck, it's not like there was any evidence!"

Scootaloo sat down heavily.

"Oh no," she gasped. "What're we gonna do, Daddy?"

"We must never die," I said.

***

We went home and googled how to become immortal.

A few shots of Wild Turkey had dulled my pain, and some first-aid had taken care of my wound for the moment, but my mood wasn't improving.

"Ok," I said, looking over our list. "We can either create a philosopher's stone, upload our minds into machine bodies, freeze ourselves in cryogenic stasis, become undead creatures, or convert to Christianity."

We both stared at the list, weighing our options.

"Jesus," I said, clasping my hands together. "I'm sorry for drinking too much, and for savagely beating a little pony and then blaming it on her so she would grow up in an environment of self loathing and misery, and for cutting her with a knife, and for raping her in the ass and mouth, and for later having consensual sex with her, since she's an animal-"

"Daddy."

"-and for killing some other pony, and for murdering a woman in cold blood, and for removing her skin and making it into a dress for-"

"Daddy!"

"What?!" I snapped.

"I'm horny. Fucky time now?" Scootaloo asked, looking up at me with her big, puppy dog eyes.

"No!" I said firmly. "We are Christians now, Scootaloo. It's the only way to escape going to Hell. That means no more sex before marriage, not even in the ass."

Scootaloo flopped on her back and reached down with a hoof.

"No masturbating either!" I added. "Now tell Jesus you're sorry for all the bad things you did."

"Um . . . Jesus, I'm sorry for secretly liking it when Daddy fucked me as a filly, and I'm sorry for obviously liking it when he fucks me now, or at least when he fucked me up until recently."

She gave me a dirty look.

"And I'm sorry I ripped off a lady's face, and I'm sorry that I bit a man's penis off, and I'm sorry for masturbating to the sight of my own blood, and I'm sorry for licking Daddy's balls whenever he passes out drunk and naked, which happens a lot."

We stood still in silence for several minutes.

"Did it work?" Scootaloo finally asked.

"I dunno," I replied. "Were you really sorry?"

"No."

"Fuck! Neither was I. We'll just have to freeze ourselves until science advances far enough to upload our minds into robots. You clean out the fridge while I go to the store to get some ice."

"Hey, wait a minute!" Scootaloo exclaimed. "If Jesus won't help us, then why don't we ask Satan?"

I was impressed.

"That's a great idea, Scoot!"

We googled how to summon Satan. To our surprise, it was incredibly simple.

I drew a pentagram on the floor with a pencil, and took a step back.

"Satan, I invoke you! Speak to me!" I demanded.

The devil's hideous head instantly materialized above the pentagram, wreathed in flames.

"WHO DARES SUMMON ME?! AH, IT'S YOU!" he said, smiling. "I'M A VERY BIG FAN OF YOUR WORK!"

"Satan, we need your help," I said, wasting no time with small talk. "We need to become immortal so we don't have to go to Hell."

"WHY SHOULD I MAKE YOU IMMORTAL?! I ALREADY HAVE YOUR SOULS! YOU HAVE NOTHING TO OFFER ME!"

"What the fuck, Satan?!" I yelled. "We do horrible shit all the time! You should be on our side!"

"I AM!" Satan replied. "AND I HOPE YOU WILL PERFORM MANY MORE EVIL ACTS BEFORE YOUR TIME COMES, BUT I DON'T WORK FOR FREE!"

"We'll devote our lives to spreading misery and suffering on Earth! We'll be the next Jeffrey Dahmers, or the next Hitlers!"

"YOU WERE JUST GOING TO DO THAT ANYWAY!"

"Hey, Mr. Satan," Scootaloo interjected. "We have two guys tied up in the garage right now. What if we tortured them until they pledged their souls to you?"

Satan chuckled.

"THAT WOULD PLEASE ME GREATLY!"

"Aww, yeah!' I said, hoof-bumping with Scootaloo. "You're just a little genius today, aren't you?"

Scootaloo squealed and danced around in a happy circle at my praise.

"Ok!" I said. "We'll call you again when we're done, Satan."

"GOODBYE!" Satan said as he disappeared.

We headed into the garage, and yanked off the duct-tape Scootaloo had placed over the attacker's mouths.

"You're not cops, so who the fuck are you?" I demanded.

"Bronies," Mac growled. "You're not going to get away with this. I posted all your information on Ponyville Nightly. Every brony in this city will be out for your blood!"

I kicked him in the face, knocking a few teeth loose.

"I'm not scared of you faggots," I sneered. "Let 'em come. I've got enough ammo for all your friends."

I walked over to my tool rack and dusted off an old, rusty pickaxe.

"They'll tear you apart!" Sid grunted through the pain of his missing dong as I approached. "If you give yourself up, we'll make sure you just go to jail. There's no way you can win. We'll put a stop to you, and Scootaloo will go back to Equestria where she belongs!"

"I don't want to go anywhere with you!" Scootaloo snapped. "You're a bunch of closet pedophiles who watch a show for eight year old girls. That guy totally felt me up while he was hugging me, Daddy!"

"What?!" Sid exclaimed.

I swung the point of the pickaxe into his shin. It went straight through the bone with a sickening, wet crunch.

He screamed, thrashing around in his bonds.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" I asked, hefting the pickaxe again. "She's a fucking horse, you sick freak!"

"S-stop! You'll regret this," he whimpered, all his bravado now gone.

"I don't think I will," I replied. "But I think you are going to really regret not pledging your souls to Satan, because if you don't, I'll never stop torturing you!"

"Ooh," Scootaloo grunted suddenly.

"What's wrong, sweetie?" I asked.

"My tummy hurts, Daddy. I think I drank too much blood when I bit off that guy's wing-wang. I need to make an explosion," she replied, wincing and clutching her stomach.

"Hold up a sec," I said, snatching a funnel from a shelf.

I shoved it into Sid's mouth and hoisted Scootaloo over it.

"Ok, Scoot! Give the nice man his blood back!"

"HRRRRRG!" Scootaloo grunted.

A bubbly flood of farty diarrhea soup came shooting out of her ass, filling the funnel in an instant.

"AAAEGRLGURGLURK!" Sid gurgled.

"Holy fuck, you shit-fountain!" I choked approvingly as Scoot unleashed another poop tsunami.

She stank up the whole room like shit, and I began to feel violently ill. I leaned forward and started puking into the funnel with a great big *HUUAAARK!*

Sidneysto flailed and choked like he was having a seizure, his eyes bulging with horror.

Scootaloo followed my vomit with a jet of sparkling, golden piss from her warty vagina.

"Satan!" Mac cried, wisely interrupting the torture before we could get to him. "If you give us superpowers so that we can escape and kill this guy, then we will give our souls to you!"

Satan's head appeared in the basement.

"AGREED!"

In an instant, all their wounds were healed. The two bronies' muscles began to bulge. Their bodies stretched, ripping out of their clothes until they stood nearly nine feet tall, and their dicks grew to twelve inches in length.

"You cocksucking backstabber, Satan!" I snarled, backing away as the bronies ripped free of their bonds.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" Satan cackled. "I JUST SAID IT WOULD PLEASE ME FOR YOU TO TORTURE THESE BRONIES! I NEVER ACTUALLY PROMISED TO DO ANYTHING FOR YOU!"

"Now it's our turn!" the huge naked bronies growled, stepping forward with diamond-hard erections.