Lyra had fallen right into the criminal gang’s hideout.

Well, stumbled was perhaps the more accurate term. She’d followed the strange stallion, Quantum Freeze, from Twilight’s library for the better part of the afternoon. He’d made a few efforts to shake off any tail — sometimes pausing at corners or darting into other pathways, but Lyra had a fixed bead on him… and plenty of experience in sneaking counter-subterfuge from her years of attempting to surprise her roommate.

He didn’t stand a chance.

Well, at least until he had darted into an abandoned silver mine on the outskirts of town. The abortive venture had been left pretty much untouched since it had been hastily constructed years back — the Flim and Flam brothers had come through in a whirlwind pitch, convincing half the townsfolk to invest their hard-earned savings into the speculative mine over the course of a three-minute, catchy song.

Lyra had been one of them. The fact that Ponyville had never been a source of rare ores of any type had seemed less important at the time than the catchy beat and memorable stanza of the brother’s lyrical performance.

In the end, the brothers had bilked the town’s investors through heavily overcharged construction and labor, then skipped town when the first mineral returns started to come back with nothing more than feldspar, gravel, and clay.

It was all OK though! The Crown had bailed all the town-investors out, so nopony had lost a bit. Lyra never understood why the more fiscally-conservative ponies who hadn’t invested complained about it so much: it wasn’t like they were the ones paying investors back! It was the Crown: they could basically mint new money anyway. It was free!

In any case, the town now had a never-used mine sitting on its outskirts. From the outside, it appeared to be a dim warehouse-like, square building.

When Lyra had ducked in, moments behind Quantum Freeze, she quickly noticed that there was no massive conference table surrounded by evil masterminds. There were no guards patrolling hallways with goofy looking and obviously evil uniforms. There wasn’t even a death-laser or automatic-magic turret system!

Just boxes.

A lot of boxes. Big metal heavy ones like shipping containers, stacked up to the high ceilings.

At first, Lyra had worried that maybe Quantum had given her the slip, but careful inspection of the perimeter had not revealed any other exits or entrances than the front door — and Lyra hadn’t sensed any burst of thaumic energy that would have come with something as powerful as a teleportation spell.

She was just about to give up when her hoof caught on one of the many cracks in the concrete flooring of the building. Stumbling forward, she fell against one of the huge stacks of boxes that were littered throughout the floorplan. To her surprise, the massive tower slid easily forward.

It was on rollers!

Lyra carefully pushed the boxes further, slowly revealing the mine-elevator in the floor that led down into the shaft. The brothers had actually bothered to try digging, after all.

Voices trickled up from below, and Lyra pressed her ear closer to the opening.

*****

“OK everypony,” Quantum grunted, walking up to the large conference table they’d fashioned out of a slab of concrete. To his surprise, his whole crew were already gathered around the surface, each poised in their own chairs like some sinister board meeting was underway.

Apparently, they were already discussing something.

“...and I say that we cut our ties and gallop. We don’t need this human for anything! He was an accident! The family is expecting the spell, nothing more. We head back east to the coast and the safety of the family.” Blackheart growled, slamming her hoof down.

“Typical cowardice, ya’ friggin’ pussy. Let the guard come and try to take us down! The boss’ll freeze ‘em dead and then I’ll-” Dusk Wing nodded toward him as he trotted up.

“We’ve got a problem team,” Quantum barked, cutting off the discussion.

“Damn right we do!” Blackheart snipped back at him.

“You don’t know the half of it, boss.” Dusk Wing nodded.

“Save it you two — I have to tell you both about something that happened at the library. I was looking into any research on our ‘guest’ when this crazy mint-”

“Green-” Blackheart nodded grimly.

“Unicorn.” Dusk Wing shrugged, completing the sentence.

“Huh.” Quantum blinked, trying to process the fact that all three of them had run into the agent on the same day. “Anyone else?”

Around the table, his two muscle-pony bruisers shook their heads. Truncheon and Clover Crunch had been mostly guarding the mine — they were big and strong, but not exactly subtle. They stood half a head taller than even the larger guardsponies, the type that would stand out in any crowd; ponies in a smaller town like Ponyville would instantly notice the Clydesdale-sized, battle-scarred grunts.

Better to leave them behind in the mine.

“Well — it’s still pretty bucking bad, guys,” Quantum grumbled. “Obviously she made us a while back and has been following everypony in the gang. And now she’s turning up the heat. Probably trying to flush us out so we make a run for Manehattan so she and the guard can scoop us all up in one go.”

Blackheart leaned forward, “We gotta get the hay out of here, Quantum! The family-”

*BANG* Quantum slammed his hoof in frustration down on the tabletop. “I didn’t want to involve the family just yet. If I head back to Manehattan with only the raw spell, I’m just a gopher-grunt to the dons.” He grumbled, then stared icily at Blackheart, “I wanted to have the poison into a commercial form by now — so I could get the respect I deserve. What is taking so long!?”

“I’m close, but not there yet,” Blackheart frowned, “This chemistry is arcane, ancient. Even for a black magic researcher like me — it’s not like there are any instruction manuals around about how to dilute a soul-altering fate potion!”

Dusk Wing tsked haughtily, shaking her head as she smirked. “Whatta fuckin’ joke. Just mix some water in with it.”

Blackheart rolled her eyes. “Sure I’ll do that, how about I try the pilot dose out on you once I follow your brilliant ‘just mix it with water’ idea? Honestly, if you don’t even know how to read you shouldn’t open your filthy muzzle, moron.”

“Kiss my ass, Blackie.” Dusk snarled, eyes flashing. She turned toward Quantum, “Oi Boss, why are we sweatin’ this anyway? Let’s charge up there and kick the shit out of this pony-town, with your talent and the boys we c-”

“Shut up, Dusk.” Quantum sighed. The little brat was more vicious than a diamond dog near a crystal deposit, but she lacked any sense of tact to say nothing of her tactical priorities, being willing to take on Guardsponies earlier for no other reason than spite. “I can only handle so many before I’m overwhelmed. Besides, I’m not the only unicorn with special talents — if the guard brought out a battlemage we’d be bucked.”

“Boss, just let me go up an-”

“Enough, you’re stuck here as well until Blackheart finishes the addiction spell. Now, how’s the monster?” Quantum glanced toward the makeshift cage they’d fashioned out of one of the shipping containers from upstairs. Punching out the thin steel of one wall of the containers was easy work for Trunch and Crunch, and made for a secure jail. He’d not expected the human, that was for sure — and he still had no idea what to do with him.

If his research today hadn’t yielded anything beyond him being a curio, his plan had been to off the strange creature: he was a burden that would get in the way of any meaningful escape. Slitting the strange, hairless monkey seemed to be more and more likely to be his only option now that the possibility of a simple escape seemed reduced.

“Eh, he’s fine. A pain in the flank, but fine. It’s been tough to keep him fed and clean — if Blackie there would just let us dose the big oaf then I c-”

“You’re not touching that love poison ever again you motherless bitc-”

“Just shut it already, the both of you!” Quantum growled. These two would be the death of him, he would never bring them both on a job together ever again. “If you two could just be professionals, for once in your worthless lives…” He took a deep steadying breath to settle his frazzled nerves.

The two mares tore their dagger-glares away from one another and stared at Quantum.

“We’re not going anywhere, not until the commercial addiction potion is completed. I’m not going to have my chance at moving up in the family snatched away from me.” Quantum stated. “The next thing we have to do is find out everything that we can about this ‘Lyra Heartstrings’ and what her next move is going to be.”

Truncheon spoke up for the first time, chewing his lip nervously. “I don’t know, boss. These agents… they’re like ghosts. Forget about tailing one, let alone capturing one. They say they’re so skilled you can’t even find them if they were right in front of your muzzle!”

“Clover — you did background for us on this job: did you pull any intel from your informants about an Agent Heartstrings?”

The pegasus bruiser shook his head, “No Boss. And my informant got me access to all the guardspony files. I’ve never heard of her: she must be some kind of elite super spy. I don’t think we can expect that she’s going to just fall into our laps.”

*KER-CHUNK*

The loud electric motor of the cargo elevator whirred to life, the gear and chain assembly clinking and clattering loudly as the platform began to descend from the warehouse. Quantum felt his heart freeze in his chest as the steel elevator cab slowly descended into view behind its chain-link fence shaft-wall.

Surely they were doomed.

The platform would be filled with SWAT guardsponies, elite soldiers and spell-casters. He’d be able to make them regret taking such a straight-forward approach, in such tight confines as the elevator… but if they were so bold as to simply barge right in, it must mean that he and his crew had no chance!

The whole crew craned their heads, sweat forming on their brows as each contemplated their inevitable fates.

Until the elevator rider came into view.

There, standing alone on the lift with a nervous smile on her face, was the unicorn from the library.

Lyra Heartstrings.

She awkwardly rubbed one of her forelegs with the other, shifting her balance from one hoof nervously. Then adopted a sort of apologetic grin and lifted the same hoof to give a mild, meek wave.

“Uh… hi?”

“Faster! Faster my steeds!” Luna’s cry rent the darkening evening sky.

“Ahhh! Please, be careful!” Bon Bon yelped, gripping tightly to the leather strapping on the inside of the royal chariot.

“We must make all possible haste, Agent Drops! You saw the missive from Princess Sparkle, the chase is afoot!” Luna half-cackled, half-giggled from her position at the sky-chariot’s driver-spot. “What, dost thou not enjoy flying?”

“No.” Bon Bon groaned, suppressing her nausea. One thing she hated was heights. earth-ponies were meant to stay on the ground. I mean, it was right there in the name! “Besides, don’t your night-guards get annoyed at being driven?” She nodded toward the two powerful thestral chariot-pullers.

“Hah!” Luna grinned. “These two do not mind. ‘Tis an honor to be whipped by the Princess of the Night for a noble thestral… regardless of the circumstance.”

“Uh-huh.” Bon Bon stifled another surge of her stomach, “Just let me know once we’re there.”

It was a bumpy couple of hours, racing through layers of cloud as the waning orange sun ceded to the rising brilliance of the shining moon. Travelling by air was technically the fastest route from Ponyville to Canterlot, but most ponies still found the concept of air-travel distasteful. The problem of turbulence had still not been solved — and only pegasi seemed to have a natural aptitude to handle the bouncing, jarring jumps that associated rapid aerial transit.

Bon Bon was grateful when their trip finally concluded, as they descended in a blindingly steep approach to Twilight’s castle, performing a screeching halt in her gardens that left two deep furrows in the ground.

Twilight was already waiting for them, “Princess! Bon Bon! Thank goodness you’re here!”

“Princess Twilight!” Luna curtsied politely, neither too deep nor too shallow in an exemplary demonstration of etiquette.

“Oh, ah.” Twilight hurriedly responded in kind. “Forgive me, but there have been developments since I sent my letter. Bon Bon — I’m afraid the deputy you and Luna assigned to this case has been captured.”

Bon Bon blinked, tilting her head to one side. “My… what?”

“Lyra,” Twilight responded. “She insisted on tailing the unicorn that I told you about in the letter. I put a magical tracking ward on her… and within the hour it disappeared, winked out of the thaumic field. The only way that would have happened would be if someone put a restrictor-ring on her horn.”

“What!?” Bon Bon yelped. Her heart was pounding in her chest now. For the first time in a long time, she was feeling real fear on a mission. She’d braved all sorts of dangers — monsters, mines, crates and criminals… but never before had a loved one been in the line of fire. “WHY WAS SHE TAILING THEM!?”

“I don’t know! I thought she was working for you?” Twilight replied, her tone also rising in fear, likely in response to the panic she could certainly hear in Bon Bon’s voice.

“Lyra! You blithering idiot!” Bon Bon groaned. She really should have just arrested her when she’d eavesdropped on the call. At least she’d be safe in an Equestrian holding cell now, instead of subject to the savage whims of these criminals.

“We must assault at once!” Luna stamped her hoof, looking over to her night-guards. “Two princesses, an agent, my stallions and the local constabulary will more than overmatch whatever force they could array against us!”

“W-wait!” Bon Bon chirped quickly, knowing from first-hoof experience how hard it could be to stop the night-princess from implementing her legendary wrath once her ire was raised. “There might be another option.”

“What option, Agent Drops? One of our citizens has been captured by these vile scum — we must act… now!”

Bon Bon held her hooves up, pleadingly. She knew how hostage situations typically turned out in these kinds of cases: sometimes good, sometimes bad… very bad. “Luna… that’s my friend in there! If we go in horns blazing and a spell goes the wrong way, or they decide to use that black magic… I… I just can’t.” Bon Bon’s plea came out half-chokingly as the reality of what she could lose began to set in on her.

Luna softened slightly, the burning fury in her eyes dimming ever so slightly, the grim facade fading to a light pity as she looked upon Bon Bon. “We are sorry my little pony, in our zeal to cleanse the blight, we had forgotten about your friend. Is… is there something else that you might recommend?”

Bon Bon took a deep breath. It was hard to steady herself against the wave of panic she was feeling. Deep down she knew how these things usually turned out — a hostage was a terrible situation: negotiations had incredibly poor outcomes, as did assaults.

She’d never even heard of ponies trying to sneak in for a clandestine rescue. That didn’t give her a lot of hope as to that option. Still, she was one of S.M.I.L.E.’s best agents. She could sneak up on a chimera with three heads pointed in different directions… that wasn’t a figure of speech for her, she’d actually done it.

And so… even though everything in her gut was telling her that the best option was to go with Luna’s plan of direct assault… that a foolhardy rescue attempt was more likely to result in two hostages instead of one…

She had to try.

For Lyra.

Who knows what horrible tortures she was being subjected to at this very moment? Screaming in pain, enduring pure terror as those criminals tried to obtain information from her, Bon Bon couldn’t stop imagining the raw screams that might be pouring from her muzzle.

Lyra giggled and chortled again, unable to wipe the mile-wide grin from her face. She was buzzing with pure joy.

“Um. Hi there pony-lady? Are you… are you OK? Are you broken or something? Hello?”

How could she not be internally hyperventilating? Every muscle of her body tensing and firing with pure joy, her every neural synapse rebooting again and again as the vision in front of her did not disappear from a simple blink? Sitting right in front of her, not three feet away…

...was a human!

A real-life human! Flesh and blood! No blurry photograph or strange mud-print in the ground… the real deal!

“Hey, uh… other pony-people? I think that the one you just put in here is having a stroke or something.” The human called over his shoulder casually, as he waved his hand in front of Lyra’s face, “I think this one is, uh… damn, is she drooling?”

Lyra shook her head slightly and brought her hoof up to her muzzle, quickly wiping up the strandy trickle of drool that had started to accumulate there.

That body! That face! That strange mane! Those weird clothes! Those muscles! … Those hands!

Lyra’s thoughts raced as her eyes poured over every inch of the strange creature’s body. This was everything she had ever hoped for, everything she had dreamed of, right here!

She couldn’t take it any longer.

“Heee heeee!” Her animal whinny-laugh escaped her lips as she barreled across the cell floor, galloping headlong toward the hapless human.

“Ah! AAHH! STAY AWAY!” The human yelped, scrunching away from her and huddling against one wall of the cell, terrified of the onrushing crazy-pony about to assault him.

Lyra didn’t mind, choosing instead to leap the final few feet in an aggressive huggle that wrapped the human up around his midsection. She squeezed with all her might, nuzzling happily into the human’s belly with a contented sigh; she was finally holding a human, in the flesh!

“Uh… OK.” The human had stopped screaming after a moment or two of her simply snuggling him, “uh… thanks, I guess? Are you OK?”

“I am now!” Lyra grinned, looking up at him. “You’re real!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” The human reached behind his head and scratched his neck, “Honestly this whole thing feels like so much of a fever dream I’m no longer sure if you’re the strange psychedelic trippy illusion or if I am.”

“Nah, you’re real.” Lyra asserted with a smile and a new squeeze, nuzzling him once again.

“Pft,” He smirked, letting one of his hands come to rest on the back of Lyra’s mane, “Friendly little thing, ain'tcha?”

The moment that touch landed on the tip of Lyra’s head, she knew her world had changed… forever. The feel of those five tips of pressure, sliding around on her scalp, exploring the messy tufts of mane and fur, pressing into muscles here and against bone there… it was heaven.

She’d never even considered the possible ramifications of human-hand scritchies! How could she have been so short-sighted, so ignorant of the theoretical possibilities! Well… that was what experimental science was about, after all: she wondered what other wonderful talents her human might have.

After she had frozen in place, trying to simply focus on the raw and wonderful sensation of fingers on her scalp… the hand paused, then withdrew.

“Ah! Oh shit, sorry about that, silly pony-lady.” The human held the scratching hand up and away, as if it had performed something offensive of its own volition and needed to be kept at bay. “I suppose that’s not a very polite thing to do… you just reminded me of a happy golden retriever with the way you bounded over and uh, I kinda…”

“Put it back!” Lyra growled. She had instinctively tried to yank the hand back with her telekinetic magic, which was blocked immediately by the constricting spell-inhibition ring that had been affixed to her before she’d been tossed into the cell. Instead, she had to reach out with one of her forehooves, grabbing his hand and pulling it down.

“O-OK.”

She almost didn’t want to let go of the hand once she did touch it with her hoof. A real-life hand! With those fingers, those nails, so dextrous, so curious! Nothing like a dragon’s claws or a minotaur’s metacarpals. But once she’d pulled his palm back onto the top of her head, the relaxing swirls of his head pats convinced her to fall more heavily into his body and sigh with contentment.

“So… you have dogs in Humantopialand too?” Lyra mumbled, eyes almost crossing from the pleasure of having her neck stroked by the human.

“The what-now?”

“Humantopialand. Where you’re from. That’s the name of your home asteroid that orbits Equestria.”

“Uh…”

“Isn’t it?” Lyra hummed, tilting her head slightly to get those wonderful fingers to go where she wanted.

“I… I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t remember many specifics… but I’m pretty sure I was from Earth, which was just a planet.”

“Specifics? Ah ah ahhhhhh!” Lyra’s eyes crossed, and her tongue started to slip out of her mouth. The human’s fingers had found their way behind her left ear, sliding along the delicate crease where pinna met head, scritch-scratching in such a way that the whole auditory apparatus flicked with delight.

“I can’t recall my name, who I am, what I was doing… just some vague notion of home and how I was brought up. Then suddenly, poof!” The human used his hand to gesticulate, which made Lyra grumble at the interruption of her newfound favorite pleasure. She sidled up into the human’s lap and craned her head upward to make her intentions clear.

“Sorry, sorry.” The human resumed his petting, now making his way down her spine also. “So yeah, suddenly there I am in the middle of some Aztec temple with a bunch of evil priest horses chanting, until some crazy pony-Indiana Jones rip off swings in on a vine and scoops me the heck out of there.”

“No memories?” Lyra looked up so she could see into the human’s face. “Oh! Shoot, I almost forgot — I’m Lyra, Lyra Heartstrings! What’s your name?”

The human sighed, tilting his head. “Dunno.”

“That’s a fun name — we don’t have names like that in Equestria.”

“No. I don’t know.” The human’s eyebrows raised in exasperation. It was remarkable just how pony-like his facial features were!

“I apologise.” Lyra hummed, “You have to forgive my pronunciation — I’ve not had any experience with your exotic human names.”She cleared her throat and tried to intone clearly: “Eyedoantno. Did I say it right?”

The human sighed and rolled his eyes. “Seriously? No. That’s not my name. I’m saying I don’t have a name, you know…?”

Lyra could only tilt her head. Just what did he mean? Was it some sort of social construct of humans? Did they not have names?

He shrugged at her bewilderment, “Like… I’m anonymous?”

“Your name is Anonymous?”

He groaned and touched his other hand to his temple, shutting his eyes in a brief moment of frustration before shrugging again. “Yeah, sure… the name’s Anonymous.”

“Ah, well it is nice to meet you, Anonymous.”

“Sure thing, Lyra.”

“And don’t stop that scratching, whatever you’re doing,” Lyra added quickly, shifting her butt to get even more comfortable in the human’s lap. Her mint green tail wanted nothing more than to thump left and right with playful happiness and it was currently trapped between her bottom and Anon’s pants.

“I kind of gathered that you were enjoying my scratching.”

“Mmhmm… you won’t believe this, but I’m actually an expert in your species.” Lyra sighed, leaning back against the human’s big, wide chest. They really did make wonderful chairs!

“Oh? Are there a lot of people running around? Maybe someone who could help me figure out what the hell is going on?”

Lyra tilted her head slightly, “Uh, no. You’re the first confirmed human to make it onto our planet-”

“Equestria, right? I heard those other ponies talking about it.”

“Yeah. But I’ve been studying all the legends and myths around you and your kind.” Lyra shifted around again. Her plot was up against something a bit bumpy — not that she didn’t find it kind of… pleasant to be rubbing against, in the current circumstances. “For instance, I know all about how your hands and fingers were actually evolutionarily-designed to be the most perfect pony-pleasers in all of existence.”

“W-what?” The human seemed a bit taken aback. “By pony pleasers… y-you just mean for like, scratching and patting, right?”

“Sure, sure! Patting, scratching, grooming, rubbing…” Lyra began to list off happily.

“G-good, because for a moment there I thought you meant something a little more risque-”

“...tickling, pinching, hugging, penetrating, masturbating…”

“W-what!?” The human’s hand froze, mid-stroke. “Suddenly, this feels more than what I signed up for”

“Why?” Lyra asked innocently, trying to push her head back under the human’s hand. She never wanted his scratches to end! She was already conceiving the construction of a special harness that would allow her to be carried by him at all times — right within hand-scritch range.

“I mean, no offense or anything but I didn’t mean to imply anything when I started patting you — I… I mean, you’re a cute little pony-girl-thing and all but…”

Lyra looked up at him again, her big golden eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“...but I mean, I don’t really find you… uh, sexy.” Anon grimaced.

“Awww, why not?” Lyra frowned, putting on a pouty face. “I think you’re the sexiest thing since Celestia made her royal bodyguards wear tail-buns!”

“Uh, OK…” Anonymous’s grimace lengthened. “I have no idea who that is, or what those are… but thanks for saying I’m sexy.” He paused, letting out a sigh. “I just… you’re like… a horse. A talking, cute, sentient horse and all… but we’re so different. Completely different species! Doesn’t your biological weirdness at least kind of hint that I’m maybe funky looking?”

“Pshaw,” Lyra scoffed. “You kiddin’ me Anon? Those broad shoulders, those big, long limbs. Perfect for snuggling a pony and holding her down.”

“Wow, oh God… oh Jeez… oh God… Please no...”

“And then those hands! Once you’ve got me pinned, you could lift me to Luna’s moon over and over! And that would all be before you plow me with that legendary human dick!” Lyra squee’d clopping her hooves together as she thought about it, the culmination of all those years of ‘research’ and speculative porn fiction written by the foremost human expert herself. “I know that what you’ve got tucked in here could put any stallion to shame.” She ground her butt let and right over his crotch, feeling the bump nestling against her soft plot.

“OH-KAY!” Anon began to pull back from her again, grabbing her under the forearms and walking her a safe distance away from him. “Again — thanks, but no thanks. I ain’t no sentient-alien horse-fucker.” He let out a breath of nervous tension, “I mean, do you even have a —”

Lyra grinned, lifting her rear and flicking her tail up high. She knew from her own practice-sessions in front of her mirror what Anon was seeing — what? A filly needs to practice her stallion-pickup-moves! — a full face-blast of scrumptious Lyra-butt.

Her cute little dock would be wagging adorably above her quivering mint-green tailhole, a bit-sized ponut of powerful muscle, framed by her sumptuous but toned buttocks. Just beneath that would be her delicate mound of her marehood — a plump set of thick lips that would already swollen from the excitement and ministrations of the human.

She felt wet, but wasn’t sure if she was quite dripping yet. A quick squeeze of her powerful mare-muscles made sure that she flashed the human male a glimpse of her hot, twisting, pink-interior… as well as the love-button that protruded from the bottom of the cleft. If he was at the right angle, he might even have caught a glimpse of her slender mare-teats, and the aroused eraser-like nipples hanging from them.

A sure-fire stallion killer! If this didn’t cause Anon to drop out of his sheath for her, nothing would.

“Ah! Ugh… ew!” Anon’s eyes went wide for a moment before he twisted away, sticking his tongue out and shielding his eyes with his hands. “Oh man, please… put that away!”

Lyra grumbled, setting her jaw with frustration. “What!?”

“I didn’t expect to see a pony-lady’s balloon knot and clam-shell today…” Anon groaned, turning to peek again at Lyra’s still fully-presented backside, “...although, I guess it’s less of a balloon knot and more of a… donut?”

“Sheesh!” Lyra grunted, backing up toward him, menacing him with her sexual expose, “Why aren’t you worshipping my plot yet? Are you more of a scent-species? Go on then, take a whiff! Take a big inhale! I’ve been told I smell like honeysuckle!”

“Uh, pass,” Anon grunted, leaning away from her, trying to keep his distance. “I’m really sorry Lyra… but I’m just not into non-humans. I don’t think I’ll ever be.” He shrugged apologetically, as if he could tell the impact his words were having on her. “I think it is a human thing — we don’t have any other sentient species back where I’m from — we aren’t designed to like anything that isn’t… well… us.”

Lyra’s mind was racing. All her hopes and dreams. All her theories. Her fantasies! Dashed! Surely this was just a big mistake, some kind of environmental issue — the cage, the captivity, the low level of light. She was so sure that humans were supposed to be the ultimate pony-lovers!

She just had to break through to him.

Somehow!

“Well, Mr. Anon…” Lyra gulped, eyes flicking left and right, “you do want to get out here, right?”

The human shrugged, staring left and right at the metal confines of the cell with indifference. “I mean, I guess. I have to admit that I’ve been safer in captivity than I have at any other time in your world. Though to be fair, the only other time I spent in your world was on a sacrificial Aztec altar.”

“Exactly,” Lyra nodded, ignoring the finer details of the human’s argument. “So if you want to get out of here… let’s just say that I’ve got the key to getting out of here hidden in a very sensitive area.”

“Wh-what?” Lyra watched the human’s eyes flick toward her still completely exposed backside and then back to her face, clearly taken aback perhaps even slightly disgusted. “You put the key… in there?” He pointed at her rear.

Lyra nodded.

“I mean… like… backdoor or…”

“No!” Lyra shook her head, blushing. Was butt-stuff a human kink? She was never particularly into it herself even if some mares she knew like Roseluck were. If it was something he insisted on, she might be willing to consider it, of course. Anything for her human. “No, what am I? Some kind of weirdo?”

The human simply arched an eyebrow at her.

“I’m not,” Lyra harrumphed. “The key to our escape is in my marehood, not my butt. I’m reasonable. Sheesh.”

The human grunted. “So… get it out then.”

“I can’t.” Lyra bit her lip and attempted her best sexy, pouty, smoldering sexy-times face. “I need you and your big, strong human hands to do it for me.”

“What?” The human scrunched his face, confused. “You got it in there, you can get it out. Why are you trying to make this weird?”

“I’m not making this weird!” Lyra pouted, angry that the human seemed to be shrugging off her advances so easily. “You’re making this weird! I’m just asking you to use your fingers to-”

“That’s weird.”

Lyra rolled her eyes and let out a gasp of exasperation. “Look, Anon… I can’t do it myself. See this?” She pointed with a hoof at the magic-restriction ring present on her horn. “This cuts off my ability to use any magic, so I can’t use my magic to —”

“What about your hands?” Anon suggested, crossing his arms and shrugging.

Lyra looked at the human with a cocked glance, then back down at her hooves, then back at the human.

“Hooves, I mean.”

Lyra blushed, looking at her own hooves. “I mean… I could try. I haven’t used them and they’re kind of… y’know… big. I don’t think they’d work so good.”

Anon was quiet.

Lyra was too, simply staring back at him with the biggest puppy-dog eyes that she could muster.

“Please…”

Slowly, Anon’s facade began to crack.

“Pleeeeease….”

“Fine.” Anon carefully uncrossed his arms, flexing his fingers into fist balls before stretching them out again, as if limbering them up for a great challenge. “Can’t believe I’m about to do this.”

Lyra let out a little squee, before backing up toward Anon, rump held high.

“Don’t you dare tell any of my human friends about this, you hear?” Anon muttered under his breath.

Lyra felt the first of his fingers as it touched her on the inside of her left thigh, sending a shiver through her body. Just the graceful touch of his digits as they slid up her leg, closer and closer to her sex was enough to elicit a soft groan from her.

This was really happening.

Anon’s right hand traced up to her plot, sliding over her rump, smoothing the hair and softly feeling the plump pertness of her muscular bottom. It came closer and closer to the center of her rear with each subsequent stroke, shyly approaching the warm heat of her sex with each subsequent movement. His left hand stayed planted on her left ass-cheek, steadying the motion of her wiggling, happy butt.

Finally, the tips of his fingers grazed the outer limits of her sex, touching the smooth, plump skin just where the mons pubis began to become distinct from the lightly-furred flesh of her plot.

As soon as he touched her there, his fingers recoiled, withdrawing slightly. “H-hot.” Anon stammered, before clearing his throat and correcting himself, “It’s hot.”

“Mmhmm... “ Lyra agreed, pressing back ever so slightly. “Don’t be shy, Anon.” Lyra squeezed her powerful pelvic floor muscles, commanding her vulva to flex and wink, sending flashing pink skin to slip out and meet her human’s tentative fingertips, while releasing a small dribble of her love-honey.

“Ah! Don’t do… whatever that was.” Anon yelped, surprised. He pulled his fingers back to a safe distance, out of range of any winks.

“Do what? This?” Lyra squeezed again, flashing her tight, hot interior again.

“Yes! That.” Anon grumbled, carefully moving his hand back, regaining the ground he had lost. “What the hell was that.”

“Oh… that just means a mare likes it. Now stop acting like a little colt on his first date and get in there!” Lyra huffed. She was starting to get a bit worked up: her heart had already been chuffing like an express locomotive for the past ten minutes — this teasing was just driving her nuts. Stallions in Equestria weren’t exactly known for their foreplay — in the bedroom, mares expected their stallions to do as they were told: drop, get hard, mount up, and let ‘er rip… then roll off and go to sleep.

But these fingers were enough to make her pant, and he hadn’t even really touched her yet.

“OK. God forgive me,” Anon whispered, and moved his fingers towards her narrow entrance. “This isn’t going to hurt you at all? You’re looking a bit on the small side, there…”

“We’re very stretchy.” Lyra rolled her eyes. How was this basic pony fact not universally understood among humans? Were their women really so fragile as not to be able to mate with something over twice their own body weight? Pathetic! Lyra was doing this human a favor, if you were to ask her. “Now hurry up and get in there while there’s still time!”

Lyra felt a single-digit slide into her. Parting her lower-lips so easily — the finger was slender and she was already drooling wet — it carefully maneuvered its way into her up to his second knuckle, the warmth of his digit easily overwhelmed by the sheer heat of her nethers.

“Mmm~!” Lyra groaned out, as her body winked on its own, her powerful sex contracting to suck at the inch or so of thin human flesh inside her, wrapping and swirling around it.

“Damn.” She heard Anon mumble to himself. “Lyra, I… I don’t feel anything in here… is it — is it deeper?”

“Mmm! Deeper!” Lyra grunted, pushing back at him, trying to get a little bit more of his finger into her. “D-down!”

“D-down?”

“AH! Yes!” Lyra squeaked, her tail lashing left and right as the human’s finger crooked, hooking downwards and pressing into the floor of the early-opening to her vagina, pushing up right against the swollen engorgement of her clitoral bud.

“Oh, I feel something hard down here,” Anon mumbled.

“Yes! YES!” Lyra groaned, backing up even further, driving more of the wondrous digit into her hot, twisting marehood. The way it was grinding into the nerves of her pleasure-organ was electrifying, not just the smooth pressure of a stallion or his synthetic replacement… this was sheer, hip-thrusting, skin-quivering pleasure. “Go deeper.”

“O-Ok,” Anon agreed, hesitatingly.

Lyra could feel his left hand squeeze her ass-cheek even harder, gripping it in that powerful grasp of his to steady the actions of his other hand. The firmness of how his fingers dug into her glute were so much more forceful than the simple grip of a pony’s hoof — so dominant. They were Like a griffon’s talons but without the risk of serious injury.

“Ahn!” The moan slipped out of her unbidden as the human’s finger slid deeper into her, his tip brushing through the quiver meaty-pink folds of her grasping love-tunnel, tracing the engorged bulge of her clitoris through the thin vaginal wall separating the sensitive organ. Lyra knew that a mare’s love-nub was like an iceberg — only the small tip was visible of a mass of pleasure-flesh that surrounded a mare’s vaginal canal… but she’d never truly realized the extent to which the lust-inducing sensory organ extended.

Not until she’d experienced the joy of Anon’s finger.

“I think I can feel it — underneath the… uh… folds?” Anon mumbled, pressing and prodding the swollen ridge in her vagina, each touch sending firework-lightning-bolts of pleasure arching along every one of the supremely sensitive nerve endings. “Why do I feel like I deserve to be arrested for this?”

“Yes! Yes, that’s it!” Lyra gasped as much as she spoke. Sweat was beading on her brow now, messing up her mane. She hadn’t felt so hot in ages. “Get it!”

“Hang on, is it… is it deeper?”

“Y-yes!”

Lyra felt the single finger slide all the way to its absolute depth, the bulk of Anon’s hand pushing against her plump outer labia. Her body was reacting on its own now, swirling and clenching around the intrepid digital explorer, trying to pull him deeper into her mare body.

“Dang, I still just feel the bump. I’m going to have to…” Anon grunted. She felt more fingers pressing at her opening, parting her folds even further. He was sliding in more of his hand to be able to get deeper. “...sorry Lyra.”

“AHHN!” Lyra squeak-groaned, as her mare-lips strained to engulf the human’s second finger. She was stretching — not wider than she’d been stretched by a pony or a pony-toy, of course… but the feel of two wriggling, alien-like fingers in her just seemed so much more filling!

“Damn. I still can’t feel any key, Lyra,” Anon apologised, his two fingers squirming left and right, searching in vain. “Maybe… maybe I can squeeze it out… like a tube of toothpaste?”

“Mnnghh…” Lyra greed. Or tried to agree. At this point, her lolling tongue was really getting in the way of trying to form any cohesive sentences.

And that was when Anon began to press. Hard.

Pushing against the swollen ridge of her clitoris through the vaginal wall, as if he could somehow slide the whole thing out of her. It was like a deep tissue massage on the most sensitive part of a pony’s body.

“AHNNnn BUCK!” Lyra felt her front legs buckle and bend under her, slamming her chest onto the floor as her plot continued to be held in the air by Anon’s squeezing fingers. The mixture of pleasure and pressure was so intense that Lyra couldn’t tell if it was painful or mind-meltingly ecstasy-inducing.

By how much her marehood was dripping, she figured it was probably the latter.

“Almost… there.” Anon’s slowly pressing fingers continued to squeeze out the trace of her clitoral ridge toward the opening of her vagina, pinching as it went. Finally, Anon clasped the throbbing-red bit-sized clitoris in a pinched, ‘OK’ style grip. With the offending nub trapped between his thumb and forefinger, as it pulsed a deep-crimson with engorged blood, massaged into it by Anon’s deep prodding, Lyra felt her body begin to wrack with spasms.

The whole of her muscular, clenching marecave was beginning to convulse, clenching and relaxing against an absent phallus — begging to be released from the raw stream of sensation from having its crown jewel trapped in such a vise-like grip. Her hips began to gyrate of their own accord, humping against the air.

She was so close.

“Lyra…” Anon’s voice was stern.

So close! That twisting spring in her gut was winding tighter and tighter — Anon was about to make her cream all over him in under two minutes!

“Lyra — this is your clit. There’s no key.” Anon’s voice sounded pissed. “What the hell, Lyra.” He released her, pulling his hand away.

NO! She was so close! The mounting tension suddenly stopped, leaving what felt like a black hole vacuum of pleasure in its wake. An aching, burning need that demanded attention like a whining foal — without any of the sheer mind-melting pleasure that had been present just moments earlier.

She whirled her head around, her eyes wild and desperate.

Angry, furious.

Celestia-help any stallion, of any species who gets between a mare and her ‘trip over the rainbow falls’.

“What the BUCK, Anon!” Lyra snarled, stamping her hoof. “I was just about to-”

“What the fuck, yourself!” Anon growled. “You were just trying to get me to finger you off? You said you had hid a key in your damn pony-cooter! What kind of twisted crap is that?”

Lyra puffed her cheeks out. “I said I thought I had the key.”

“Lyra, you’re not going to convince me that you thought maybe you misplaced a freakin’ metal key in your horsepussy and then forgot about it.”

“OK. First off,” Lyra growled, still looking back over her shoulder, “Horsepussy is very rude. Second? I never said there was a real actual key in me. I mean, look at the cage: do you even see a lock?”

Anon paused, looking over at the bars. The door seemed to be welded shut. Quantum Freeze had used some kind of scroll every time he’d brought Anon or Lyra in or out of the confinement. The door was magically sealed.

Anon grumbled, crossing his arms. He was still pissed. “I specifically recall you mentioning keys AND vaginas.”

“Yes!” Lyra rolled her eyes, then gestured at the constricting ring again. “I was referring to this. I think if we can maybe overload this thing it might pop off, and then I could use my magic to get us out of here!”

Anon’s head tilted, but his frown didn’t change. “And by overload this thing you mean…”

“Make me pop.” Lyra huffed, wasn’t it obvious.

“Make you pop. You mean: make you cum. Bring you to orgasm?” Anon groaned, reaching his hand to his temple and massaging it.

“Yes! If the surge of magical energy breaks this ring, I think I could manage to override the spell, keeping the door shut.”

“I can’t believe this. And why can’t you… uh… take care of business… on your own?”

“As I said, I always had my horn to help me.”

“What about your ha- I mean hooves?”

“Again, as I said before — not something I ever used. Not since I was a filly and learned my telekinesis spells. Honestly, I have no idea how earth-pony mares do it — these things are just so… clunky.” Lyra looked at her hooves with distaste. “Nothing compared to those wonderful fingers of yours.”

“Great...” Anon grunted, looking at his own wet fingers with a modicum of reluctance. “Is this… is this really happening?”

“No, it isn’t,” Lyra huffed. “It was happening until you stopped. Now, can you please get back to it?” She waggled her rear, stepping back toward Anon.

The human paused for a long moment, staring at Lyra’s plot, then flicking his eyes to his fingers, then tracing his gaze one more time over to her face.

“C’mon!” Lyra whined, the pulsing heat of her marehood still throbbing with raw, unsatisfied need. With a flick of her dock, she let her heavy, sweat-damp tail flop over Anon’s groin, right over where she knew that delicious, legendary human dick would be located. “If you help me out, I promise I’d return the favor.”

“Uh, not necessary or desired. Pretty sure what I’ve already done to you constitutes a felony offense regardless of what dimension I’m in.

“It would be my pleasure, though.” Lyra purred, lifting a hind leg to rub against the human’s private area.

“Woah. Hey.” Anon jerked backward, knocking her pony-hoof away.

“Oh,” Lyra paused, biting her lip. “Your erection felt a lot smaller than I thought it would be. No need to be shy, even if humans are a bit small I’d-”

“I’m not erect.” Anon grumped. “I’m not turned on. Honestly, I’m a notch away from being sick all over our cell.”

“What!?” Lyra pushed her butt back again, waggling it from side to side. “Why? I know for a fact that I’ve got a damn sexy plot! AND that humans are basically designed to buck ponies senseless! What is with you? Are you defective? Did I get a defective human?”

“You know what? Forget it, let’s just do this.” Anon grunted, sliding his hands back onto Lyra’s plot. “But don’t take this to be anything more than what it is!

“Oooh…” Lyra purred, the human’s hands gripping her rear much more forcefully now. “Now we’re talking!”

“You just tell me what you like, Lyra,” Anon grunted, his hands gripping her asscheeks and then pulling them apart, spreading her plot wide and opening the musky, pink heat of her marehood to the cool air of the cell. “Let’s get this over with so we can both get as far away from each other as possible.”

“Oh, yes!” Lyra squeaked. She felt Anon’s fingers slide right back into her, his index and middle finger probing deep on their first stroke, up to the very limit of the human’s main knuckle. Her vaginal wall clenched, hoping to retain the invading digits — but Anon was already pulling them out, pumping them in and out with a slow rhythm.

“B-buck!” Lyra’s tail shot back up, flagging high as she was slowly finger-fucked by the human. “Goddesses, your marefriend is lucky.”

“Don’t have one of those,” Anon grunted. He began to flick his fingers wider and twist them on each stroke, pressing back against the powerful pelvic-floor contractions crushing his digits together. “Damn you’re strong in here… tight.”

“Ah! Ahnn! Ahhhn!” Lyra’s response became three choking moans as her pussy convulsed in a set of involuntary winks. Just how could human mares do anything but receive this kind of pleasure from their hands with every free waking moment they had?

“Ah, you liked that, huh?” Anon mumbled to himself, “How about, this?”

Lyra felt the human’s left hand slide along her butt-cheek, moving closer to the hot center of her backside that was her plot. The thick thumb of the human slid along the sensitive crevice between her ass-cheek and dock, swirling closer and closer to… her tailhole!

“Eeeep!” Lyra squeaked, her dock instinctively snapping down and covering herself as the human’s thumb pressed against her tight, quivering ponut.

“Oh, not into that? That’s alright, a lot of human girls aren’t either.” Anon withdrew his hand, sliding it quickly along the outside of her thigh and then moving it under her belly. “I noticed that these were in a rather new location.”

“AH! H-holy hay!” Lyra mewled, as she felt the human’s hand encompass one of her teats entirely, cupping it softly and groping, a gentle caress that seemed to be testing just how firm her mammaries were. “I’ve ne- AHhN!” Lyra’s reply was cut off as Anon slid a third finger into her marehood on his next stroke, seamlessly stretching her even wider, wriggling his ring, index and middle finger in a wave-like fashion as he pumped in and out of her body.

“A bit smaller, but they feel pretty firm, actually,” Anon observed, squeezing Lyra’s right teat a little bit harder. “And these are actually pretty neat,” Lyra felt him take one of her eraser-nipples between the tips of two fingers, pinching her lightly and rolling the sensitive-nub playfully back and forth. She’d never experienced anything like that!

“Damn, that got you gushing!” Anon almost whistled. Lyra could feel the squirts of liquid slipping out of her sopping marehood now, each outstroke of Anon’s pumping fingers bringing a splattering of her hot sex-nectar out with it. “Are you close?”

“Mmm! Mmmhm!” Lyra tried to squeak, shutting her eyes against the cacophony of sensation coming from the continued masturbatory techniques assaulting her. That spring was already back to where it had been before their pause — a creeping, ever-intensifying miasma filling every part of her being, pushing her inexorably towards her inevitable release.

“No? Well how about…” Anon moved his groping left hand and slid it up to her winking, splattering sex. Without pausing the rapidly increasing rhythm of his pistoning right hand, he slid two of the fingers of his right hand into position — right over the top of her painfully erect clitoris, which protruded from her like some erotic flagpole.

“Ah!”

And then he started to vibrate his hand. The quick, shaking movements of wrist and fingers led to a blur of grinding tactile stimulation, right on that impossibly dense concentration of pleasure nerve endings in her bulging love-nub.

“Oh F-FUCK!” Lyra swore for the first time, the curse drawn out of her gut like she was exhausting a small part of the raw pleasure that was brewing in her. She’d never felt anything like this before. Sure, she knew the myriad of magic vibratory spells that every unicorn mare learned about the same time they got their cutie marks and went through their first heats. Sure, she’d had the opportunity to try the legendary COOLCO vibrating models.

But compared to the skillful buzzing ministrations of the human’s flesh, it all ran a distant second.

She could feel the tension building up in her horn too. Unicorns almost always had some kind of a reaction to the build-up of sexual energy in their bodies. The meta-thaumic system was a reflection of how a living organism’s internal energies, emotions and spiritual essence were flowing, after all. Lyra had never paid much attention in school about the fancy science of spellcasting and how it all actually worked… but every mare knew that the closer you approached to ‘frolicking in Celestia’s hidden garden’ the more potent and charged one’s whole magical system became.

It varied for different mares of course. Just like the physical effects of achieving ‘Cadance’s blessing’, every mare reacted in varying quantities… both thaumic and organic.

Lyra had always been an outlier in both.

She could feel it now, a painful tension building in her skull, at the base of her horn. It felt like charged lightning bolts were racing back and forth just under her cranium, pulsing with electric tingles that singed her very gray matter. It wasn’t quite as unpleasant as a migraine — the surging throb of the energy brought with it feelings of heady pleasure as well — but each crashing wave of sparks roiled up her horn before smashing against the runic barrier of the restrictor-ring.

Lyra bit down even harder on her lip. She almost kind of liked this restriction. The painful inability to let the surging, instinctive magical sparks spatter from her horn.

Roseluck had often chatted her ears off about how some of her conquests had involved bondage and restriction… maybe this was something she would like too?

“G-goddesses!” A new squeak escaped her throat, and she mashed her face into the ground as Anon began to spread his fingers more widely with each thrust, stretching her tight marehood open into a fleshy-pink triangle… before she snapped all his fingers back together with one of her many, cascading clenches.

“Are you close?”

“MMmm!” It was all Lyra could manage. She could feel one of her eyes unfocusing as the other wobbled in its socket, overwhelmed by the random, bizarre neural signals escaping her pen-orgasmic brain.

“Just go already!” Anon huffed, a mote of exhaustion in his voice. Perhaps this was hard for him to keep up? “Damn girl… here.”

Lyra felt his left hand pull away from her clitoris, giving her a momentary reprieve from the almost blinding stream of pure sensation. She drew in a great gasp of air, having not even realized that she’d been holding her breath as she endured the raw blast of powerful pleasure-nerves from the unending stimulation of her love bud.

And yet she almost immediately missed the vibrating assault from Anon’s amazing fin-

*KER-SLAP*

Her ears barely had time to flick backwards at the slight hiss she heard as the human’s hand cut through the air with terrific velocity… before slapping with a meaty impact against her backside.

OH FUCK!

It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She knew some stallions liked to spank — some sort of dim hearkening back to their own childhoods where they’d been at the total mercy of an authoritarian figure — but whenever she’d received such a blow, it always felt… unsatisfying. The heavy clop of a hoof felt more like somepony bumping into you than anything… sensual.

Anon’s human hand was completely different.

The wide surface area. The soft, yet springy flesh of his fingers. The small concave in his palm that made such a satisfying clap as it slapped against her buttock! It was all so perfect. Like his human hand had been used to strike the buttocks of ponies since they were ancient horses, to drive them… lead them… master them.

The slap sent a recoiling wave through her fleshy-butt, a ripple that was sharp enough to shock the already overwhelmed and convulsing muscles of her marehood… to send a new surge of even higher scorching sensation along her overloaded nervous system… to explode into her mind and send her reeling over the edge of pleasure.

She was cumming.

Hard.

“AhhnnNnnnnN!”

It began as a crack, a small chink in the armor girding her self-control.

. One which quickly broke open, pouring forth the flood of potent neurochemicals and stored up energy in a wave of orgasmic pleasure that spilled down her spine. As it passed every one of her vertebrae, it raced out to the various muscles and organs of her body, filling every synapse, cell and muscle fibre with heady pleasure and relaxing bliss.

And then it reached her lower spine. The nerve attachments there, already surging with signals meant for the brain from the young mare’s overworked and overstimulated reproductive system, were drowned out by the wave of pure orgasm crashing down in the opposite direction.

In an instant, Lyra’s womb, her ovaries, her clenching vagina, her quivering tailhole, her winking inner and outer labia… the whole of her plot was awash in a messy mixture of intoxicating pleasure-chemicals.

She felt her whole marehood act as one, as she never had felt it before — even during the best sex of her life — milking in long, powerful contractions from her drooling opening to her uttermost depths. Pulling against Anon’s fingers as if they were a flared stallionhood, drawing him deeper and deeper into her, trying to pull the tips of his digits against the blossoming gate to her womb, in hope that the human’s phalanges could somehow give her the stallion-seed her body so urgently expected.

With each thrumming, milking pulse her body emitted heavy dollops of steaming mare-nectar. Hot, squirting fountains of sticky, musky marejuice splattered out of her, soaking the human’s forearm and making the most obscene sloshing, splattering noises.

Of course, Anon’s fingers were no stallionhood. They barely made it to the quarter-mark of her twisting, spasming depths. But her body still suckled against them as much as it could, sending her engorged and overexerted love-nub shooting out each and every time, grinding against the human’s knuckle as she came like a madmare.

The crashing wave had arrived in her plot… and now it rebounded. Strengthened by the raw sensational pleasures of her climaxing sex, it raced back up the path it had just travelled, stronger and fiercer. Lyra could almost feel the sparks of biological electricity as the nerves sparked up her spine, making her back arch and flex, driving her hips back and forth in pseudo-humps.

And then it was back. Back in her skull. Mixing and merging with the thunderstorm of part-organic, part-thaumic madness that had grown into terrifying proportions.

The migraine of constrained energy became sharp. Blinding. It was like some kind of recursive spell that was quickly overloading, threatening to burn out her brain or make her head pop as the waves of crackling energy grew and grew… with no outlet.

“Ahnngh… ahn! Ahnn!” Lyra grunted like a fool with each convulsion and crashing wave of energy. She wasn’t sure if her stupefied reactions were perhaps the result of actual brain damage occurring as a result of the burning surge of unicorn energy trapped inside her. She wasn’t even capable of that thought… only the raw reaction to the sheer pleasure.

But then there was a spark.

Like a tiny pinprick of Celestia’s sunlight burning through a dark, impenetrable overcast… a single ray of potent, excess magical energy spilled forth from the tip of her horn, hissing and sputtering with an acrid, gunpowder-like smell as the laser pointer of pure magical power drew lazy circles upon the cell floor, in synchronicity with Lyra’s bobbing, gasping head.

It felt like somepony was placing their hoof over the end of a garden hose, only allowing the tiniest sliver of flowing water to spray out with all the intensity of the constrained force just behind it.

But it was something!

“Ahnngh… mnnngh… mnghh…!” Lyra groaned out, her words turning to mush before they even formed in her head. It was like her brain could only reserve a tiny fraction of its processing power to be used for the purpose of formulating any thought, plan, or speech.

“Are… are you OK?”

The dim words of Anon’s concerned voice were lost to the haze, as were the sensations of his hands… since removed from their stimulating attack upon her sex and now simply stroking her back and thighs… trying to comfort her. If she had more wherewithal she might have understood the sheer concern in the human’s voice, from the seizure-like orgasm she was experiencing.

But that tiny glimmer of Lyra’s consciousness, the last vestige of herself, a tiny pony upon a flimsy canoe bobbing in the roiling tumult of the hurricane-force of her ongoing orgasm, was entirely trying to focus on the task at hand.

This was her only chance, their only chance. She had to bring that tiny point of spell-casting escaping from the restricting magical-ring to bear on the sealed door!

Some part of her knew just how impossible the task was — even had she not been magically-restrained, even if she had all of her mental faculties available to her to attempt the difficult task of unsealing a magical prison door… she doubted she would be able to break through.

But if she didn’t try, that would mean that all of this had solely been for the purpose of soliciting a ‘fingerjob’ from the human…

Admittedly, that’s pretty much what she had done.

Still! She had to try!

“Ahnnn… ahnn!” Lyra tried to tilt her head, desperately aiming the laser-point of sparkling, erratic magical energy from her horn. It was nearly impossible — with each twist of her neck muscles, some new wracking convulsion of sheer pleasure would crash into her… jerking her head and demanding that she simply submit to the waves of ecstasy.

It was so tempting!

The siren call to simply let go: to ride out the storm of sheer pleasure in mind-melting submission to the aching pleasure-storm on fire in her head, her body, her burning sex.

But if she did that, there would be no chance to cut through the restricting ring. It had to be now!

She groaned again, turning her sweaty head with difficulty, her unfocused eyes seeing the sparkling point of light as it drunkenly traced its way up the cell door in wild, wobbling patterns.

There!

The spot of light had traced over the magically-welded joint of the door. She was sure of it! Perhaps only for a moment. But she’d done it!

…

Of course, nothing happened.

A randomly fired, completely unfocused, un-crafted pinprick of neutral (though perhaps sexually-flavored) unicorn energy had zero chance against a joint that was specifically crafted to prevent any type of opening spell save that of the magical scroll it was linked to.

Even a skilled arch-mage would have trouble given hours of time inspecting and crafting all of their vast and skilled energies for the explicit purpose of disabling such a lock.

And yet she tried! Doing her best to bring the pinprick back over the joint.

By Celestia! By Luna! Lyra’s thoughts bubbled above the boiling eruption of sheer cognitive fire, before the final, quaking, surge of pleasure twisted her whole body in a paroxysm of pleasure, eliciting a gushing release from her so voluminous and thick that it impacted the puddle already on her cell floor with a resounding -

Sploosh!

By Cadance’s winking, bucking, mare-cunt! She swore internally, unable to hold on any longer against the pleasure, slamming her head down in frustration… And also bringing the point of light right over the door jam.

*Ker-CHUNK*

The heavy clacking sound of metal unbinding from metal filled the room, a sharp punctuation to Lyra’s gasping moans and grunts.

She’d done it! Lyra squeed internally, feeling her magical ejaculatory beam losing power and being cut off by the horn-restrictor once again, as the waves of her powerful orgasm began to ebb, bringing her to a slow landing of comfortable, warm happiness in the pool of exhaustion that was her sweaty body and tired mind. A miracle!

“Aihhh… deeed… eeet…” Lyra’s grunting groan felt strange, like her tongue was too fat for her mouth. She’d never been so exhausted. She turned to smile at Anon with an orgasm-drunk smile, her eyes lazily blinking. “W-wuh… ahn… We’re f-freee….”

Anon looked at her, but he wasn’t happy. He wasn’t smiling. He looked partially concerned at her state… but even more-so, skeptically annoyed.

“Uh-huh… sure. You opened the door.” The third voice wasn’t Anons. It sounded more like that bruiser that had shut them in there. “It wasn’t Trunch and I. You’re right.”

Oh.

Lyra turned her head slightly, aided by Anon who was carefully petting and comforting her, trying to ease her down from the lofty, Canterlonian heights of her orgasmic experience. There, standing at the opening to the cell, were the two bruiser-goons. Truncheon handed Clover Crunch the spell-scroll.

“We just had to see what all this racket was about,” Clover grinned.

Trunch nodded, sniffing the air deeply. His nose turning up and his lip retracting in response to the pungent, hanging musk that drenched the cell. “Damn… if I’d known you were so backed-up miss spy-pony extraordinaire… Clover Crunch and I would have made sure to interrogate you sooner!”

Lyra groaned in defeat as Crunch chuckled back at his friend, his wings starting to extend from his body.

“Hey Trunch, aren’t you supposed to show a prisoner the tools that’re gonna be used on them before an interrogation? Makes ‘em more likely to talk doesn’t it?”

“Good point, bud,” Truncheon grinned, turning to one side so as to give Lyra a side profile view of his body. “Smelling this heated little-mare already made me drop!’

There, right in front of Lyra’s face… was Truncheon’s giant, earth-pony stallionhood. He was a big stallion to start with, but Lyra was beginning to suspect that his namesake had little to do with his preferred weapon of choice… but rather the weapon between his legs.

The huge log of ponyflesh was bigger than anything she’d ever seen. Drooping down so far that it just kissed the floor. A massive, thick, mottled-pink and black shaft. It was no mere dick.

That was a horsecock.

Author's Note

Author’s Note:
One of my favorite parts of the story! I gotta say, while I’m not a huge fan of post-corruption Anon in Cloppy’s canon — or very many other canons for that matter — the human we get in this story is just downright likable in every way. I had a ton of fun calling back on my human-on-pony days to suggest lines and such to make the sex scene even better. It was also around this point when I realized that Cloppy’s ponies are a lot smaller than I’d headcanoned myself. At one point I thought Lyra was the size of a cat! It really makes those 18-21 inch dongers he occasionally puts on them all the more amazing to think about.

Next chapter was a lot of fun too, if a bit of work settling out the details but I’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Good show, Cloppy!

AJ Aficionado, Editor