Three ponies sat in the relative quiet of the cabin, no longer filled with the pounding and flesh-slapping, moaning and splattering sounds of sex that had filled it beyond bursting only a few moments before.

Sweetie had snagged one of the armchairs, specifically the one furthest from the epicenter of the explosive mess of sex-fluids that painted a clear path back to the site of wanton debauchery. Her older sister, Rarity, had chosen an armchair opposite her, and was carefully brushing her hair — she’d insisted upon taking a quick shower after she’d regained her senses. She wasn’t going to let something so simple as a family crisis interrupt her need to be perfectly coiffed at all times: she most certainly would not allow herself to be seen in a cum-stained-mane state.

In between the two sisters, sitting on the couch, awkwardly covering his lap with a throw pillow, was Hondo Flanks.

For a good minute, the only thing that could be heard was the dull thrum of the cruise ship’s engines and the distant slap of the waves again the huge hull.

Awkward was the simplest word that could be used to describe it.

Sweetie tapped the tips of her forehooves together, trying to steady her racing thoughts. Her mind was doing backflips, trying to process just what she had seen, what she was feeling… and what she should do.

On the one hoof, there was rage and disgust. It felt almost like a betrayal: these two ponies whom she loved so much, who had been such an integral part of her life for so many years… were hiding a secret that threatened to destroy their entire family instantly. A secret that was based on only their own sordid desires, their selfish needs.

On the other hoof, there was a confusing mix of emotion. She really did love both her father and her older sister. Sweetie thought the world of both of them. Rarity was an incredibly talented businessmare… and anypony who couldn’t see just how strikingly beautiful she was, with a perfect manestyle, a slender body, and a thick plot that would turn any stallion’s head was either blind or a colt-cuddler.

And her father was as genuine a stallion as she’d ever met. She compared every male in her life against his shining example. There was no guile or guff in Hondo Flanks — he told you straight up how it was. He was a real gem of a pony, always quick to snicker out a lame dad joke that could turn the corners of your mouth up and brighten your day… and he was a looker.

Sweetie’d never really thought about her Dad this way, but his lustrous mane… his earth-pony-like physique on a unicorn’s more slender frame, his shiny white coat replete with unshorn fetlocks… even his goofy, anachronistic mustache. It was pure DILF-material.

Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes at herself, annoyed that the term Scootaloo and Applebloom had taught her had managed to stick in her brain. At the time, the two had been describing Night Light, Twilight’s father. But he didn’t hold a candle to her dad: Hondo was way more buff, more stallionly, more sexy.

Sweetie paused the tapping of her hooves, almost annoyed with her train of thought. Did she really think her dad was sexy? Her eyes slid over to the quiet, blushing stallion, who was still staring at the coffee table, unable to look over at her.

If he wasn’t their father, Sweetie would consider Rarity lucky to bag a stallion like that.

Sweetie groaned, annoyed at the emotions. Could she even be feeling a twinge of jealousy? It was all so confusing.

“Ahem.” Rarity began, finally setting down her hairbrush, “Perhaps I should begin, Sweetie Belle?”

Sweetie looked up at her older sister, trying to keep the annoyance out of her face at just how casual and collected the fashionista was. “Please do.”

“Well for starters, Sweetie, I completely apologise for the way in which you found out about father and I’s tryst. It must have been dreadfully shocking, and was certainly not the way I nor father wished to tell you.”

Sweetie’s eyes flicked over to her sister. “Just… just how long have you two been doing this? Been… fu-”

“Ah ah, Sweetie.” Rarity cut her little sister off. “Please, there is no need to be vulgar, let’s be ladylike — ‘sleeping together’ will suffice.”

Sweetie huffed, crossing her forearms and grumbling. “You weren’t worried about ‘ladylike’ when dad was plowing you into the wall and you were screaming for him to ‘fuck you harder’.” Sweetie smirked, and gestured at her own horn with a nod to her sister, “you’ve still got a bit of drywall stuck to your horn, by the way.”

Rarity blushed, reaching up and removing the small piece stuck on one of the crevices of her horn. “Ah, yes… thank you. Nonetheless, Sweetie, the language of the bedchamber is a different animal than that of polite conversation.” She lifted her nose and blinked, how Rarity managed to constantly keep her poise even in a situation like this was beyond impressive to Sweetie. “As to your question… I believe that we began these cruise-weekends about what… nine years ago?” Rarity directed the question over to Hondo.

The blushing stallion ashamedly nodded, not taking his eyes off of the coffee table.

“Oh for Celestia’s sake, Father.” Rarity huffed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t act like some colt who has been caught with his hoof in the cookie jar! Sweetie now knows and we should all discuss it like adults.”

“Nine years?” Sweetie blinked, the math spinning in her head quickly, she’d never actually counted the number of seasons that Hondo and Rarity’s cruise-trip father-daughter tradition had started but it seemed to make sense. “But, that would mean that you guys started when Rarity was even younger than me.”

“Mm, quite,” Rarity nodded. “It’s a rather long story, but I suppose you have a right to know it all now… You see, all of this was really my fault.” Rarity sighed, tilting her head slightly. “It all started when I came back from that exchange year, the one I spent in Mareis and Hoofington my junior year, back when you were seven. Let me say: across the ocean, in the fashion circles, they have a far more… libertine philosophy when it comes to educating fillies. I had my eyes opened… really many things opened… that year.”

“Gross.” Sweetie stuck out her tongue.

“Oh, Sweetie... You really will need to grow up soon, and quickly.” Rarity sighed, shaking her head slightly. “In any case, upon my return, I shared all of my stories with Mother. Though it was a bit shocking to her at first, she quickly began to get quite wrapped up in my steamy, exotic tales. You know how she can be… Mother is a romantic at heart, even a bit dramatic.”

Sweetie chewed on her lip, suppressing the overwhelming desire to tell Rarity how close she’d just come to creating a black hole from the massive hypocritical statement she’d uttered. It was true that Cookie Crumbles tended to frame her day-to-day as if it were a soap opera… it must be genetic.

“Being the foolish young filly I was, I didn’t bat an eye when Mother began to lament her own lot in life. She claimed to me that her love life had become so dull, uninspired and uninteresting that she was on the verge of a total breakdown.” Rarity sighed, shaking her head. “And it was the ‘filly-power’ era… I was so easily swept up by the idea that Father was a stodgy, controlling and unromantic partner that I believed every word of what she said.”

“Hmf,” Hondo grunted, shaking his head, the first sound he’d made in minutes.

“Sorry again, Father,” Rarity said softly, looking remorsefully over at Hondo, before turning back to Sweetie. “Without even asking him for his side of the story, I decided I would help Mother win back the romance in her life that she’d lost… a few letters to my new contacts in the fashion-world and I had arranged the most exciting series of ‘casual engagements’.”

Sweetie Belle blinked, “You… you helped Mom to cheat on Dad!?”

“I was a foolish filly, and there really is no excuse. I started to get an inkling that Mother had quite overplayed her situation when she began to complain to me that the majority of her dates were of… insufficient stature.”

Sweetie arched an eyebrow and tilted her head. “Like… they weren’t famous enough?”

Rarity shook her head and tapped her chin. “No no, they… she would say that they were… that they had ‘diminutive characters’.”

“So they were jerks.”

“No, Sweetie.”

“JUST TELL ME!” Sweetie squeaked, angered by the ridiculous tip-toeing.

Rarity huffed and rolled her eyes, “Mother thought they had tiny penises.”

“Oh,” Sweetie Blinked.

“And I can tell you, from rumour and my own stringent vetting process… they were all generously endowed. Mother’s standards were simply ridiculous. She was a complete size queen.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, you see Sweetie, Mother’s rather fanciful requirements were what led me to suspect our dear Father was actually a good, faithful stallion.” Rarity sighed, shaking her head sadly, “Unfortunately by that time Mother had already ended up in one of Prince Zebmakakwe harems.”

“Who!?” Sweetie’s eyes bulged at the strange name.

“A prince of one of the many miniature Zebrican fiefs. He’s particularly notorious for his many many harems and affairs throughout foreign countries,” Rarity tittered, gesturing with her hoof as though she were simply gossipping over her own kitchen table. “He’s known in Zebrica as ‘the striped snake’, because of a white stripe across his rather large and otherwise black stallionhood, he really plays up his virility for political purposes. It’s quite a thing in that country to be seen as a powerful leader to have equally impressive lower bits.”

“Rarity,” Sweetie groaned, putting a hoof to her temple and massaging, blinking her eyes and shaking her head softly. “What the hay does this have to do with you and Dad!?”

“Well don’t you see Sweetie? Once Mother was enticed into the prince’s harem by rumors of his size… and by the way Father, Zebmakakwe has nothing on you, dear… she became off-limits to all others. Even her own husband! It would create a political incident!” Rarity shrugged, “We even had a representative from the Canterlonian State Department advise us of the ramifications!”

“Uh…”

“And so it all came out at once… Mother’s infidelities... Father’s complete innocence and the truth of his quite satisfactory and honorable spousal performance… it was awful!” Rarity threw a hoof to her forehead and feigned swooning, “I realized immediately what a fool I had been, and knew that I had deprived our dear Father of his only outlet for his sexual appetites, I simply had to make it up to him!”

“So you started bucking him!?” Sweetie yelped, stunned.

“Oh no! Not at first.” Rarity scoffed, “I of course offered Father similar access to my list of contacts, as I’d done for Mother. But he quite understandably wanted little to do with the type of ponies responsible for ruining his marriage… and to be honest, Father’s rather blunt… ‘style’ would not likely have appealed to the frou-frou nature of that crowd.”

Sweetie glanced at her father, who seemed to be very intently inspecting a speck of nothing on the nearby coffee table.

“So instead, I decided that I would act as wingmare for him!” Rarity grinned, “I’d always heard tell of middle-aged ponies seeking love on cruises, just like in one of my steamy novellas! And I would be there, first-hoof, able to assist Father in selecting and wooing the ideal lucky mare.”

Sweetie was still glaring at her father, clearing her throat noticeably before directly addressing him. “And you just went along with this? I get that mom cheated on you, but you decided you'd go along with one of Rarity’s crazy schemes?”

“Hey!” Rarity protested.

“Shh…!” Sweetie hissed at her older sister.

“A… a stallion has needs, Sweetie,” Hondo whispered miserably, staring at the floor. “With me unable to even approach your Mother by international law, I… I had to do something!”

“I didn’t know Rarity’s nickname was: ‘something’.” Sweetie huffed, shaking her head.

“Oh please, Sweetie.” Rarity scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You mustn’t be so harsh on Father. His appetite is quite high for a stallion of his age - he couldn’t help it! Nor was he responsible for dipping his hoof in the family pond, as it were... “ Rarity smiled lustily. “You see, on that first cruise, the mares I had a selected and assisted Father in seducing had a habit of absconding rather rapidly from his cabin at the end of every date, often as pale and scared as if they’d just seen a ghost.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither did I! At first I worried that perhaps Father truly was woefully underequipped, perhaps more gelding than stallion… so I made sure to quickly enter his cabin after one of those failed dates, to make a personal inspection.”

“Rarity! He’s our dad.”

“And he’s a stallion! And upon inspection, quite a stallion! Though you’ve seen that for yourself, now. And there was my poor Father, impressive stallionhood in hoof, blue-balled by some foolish middle-aged cruise-harlot who wasn’t up for a challenge.”

“So you… had sex with him!?” Sweetie Belle shook her head in disbelief, “What the hay?”

“Not right away.” Rarity countered, “At first it was just a little stroking, a little cooing against father’s protests, a bit of playful rubbing…” Rarity sighed, as if she were savoring the memory from years ago like a glass of wine. “He was in his cups, and my loins were just swimming at the unexpectedly large gift that had landed in my lap. He really had no chance. Even at that young age I was quite the filly. I soon had Father on his back, being ridden as a stud like him ought.”

“Celestia’s mercy.” Sweetie stuck her tongue out. “...and then you just… kept doing it? Over and over? You guys have gone on these cruises twice a year, every year! I always thought it was just a father-daughter bonding thing…”

“Bonding? It was-”

“Not that kind of bonding.” Sweetie snapped, quickly. “Seriously, twice a year!”

“Oh no, no.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “The cruises are really just for me Sweetie. My heats have always just been so ferocious, and I always catch the second, later heat as well. These cruises are just a good way for me to prioritize my me time, and make full use of Father’s blessing while I’m in season.”

“W-wha-...”

“Father and I have been enjoying each other outside the cruises as well. Whenever he has the need, I am there for him!” Rarity nodded solemnly, patting a hoof against her chest. “I’d do anything for family — not that a good hard rutting from such a stallion as him is anything but a joy! All Father had to do was give me a signal: wear the tips of his mustache up and we would find some time to secret ourselves away and satisfy our deepest desires.”

Sweetie blinked, her mind quickly racing through every time she had seen her father and Rarity together over the last decade. Never once could she remember her dad’s mustache-tips being down. “What the buck, dad!?”

Hondo, miserable, continued to look at the floor, muttering softly. “A… a stallion has needs…”

“So every time we would come to visit you? And after I moved into the Carousel Boutique when they would visit us… you were both…?”

Rarity nodded.

“Goddesses… please tell me you never did it in my bedroom,” Sweetie moaned.

“Well, it did use to be my guestroom…” Rarity shrugged. “And at times it was more convenient for a quick rendezvous when you and Mother were about in the house…”

“Oh Goddesses, that’s disgusting!”

“Oh please, Sweetie Belle. I always ensured everything was as clean as a whistle. I’m not an animal.”

“You and Dad are behaving like some! I can’t believe this has been going on all along right under my muzzle!” Sweetie groaned, rubbing her temple even deeper. Then her eyes scrunched together as she considered her situation even more closely. “Wait… why would you invite me to this cruise? You probably could have kept getting away with it until… well... until forever!”

Rarity’s smile deepened and she leaned forward, eyebrows shifting upward to a mischievous angle. “Well, Sweetie, I can say that it was never my intention to simply reveal ourselves to you… this cruise was meant to be a father-daughter bonding trip. All daughters.”

Sweetie felt her heart pound in her chest. A rush of adrenaline made the powerful cardiac muscle thump so hard it was like it’d gotten a kick from a mule; a roar of blood throbbed through her, making her ears ring and her cheeks flush a crimson blush. Her big green eyes twitched with nervousness, flicking over to her father and back to Rarity.

“W-w-what?”

“Oh please, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity smiled. “I am your big sister. And I have been worried about how your… development is coming along.”

“I have a coltfriend!”

“Button?” Rarity smiled, almost rolling her eyes. “Sweetie you’re adorable. But simply holding hooves isn’t the kind of activity I’m talki-”

Sweetie stiffened. “What!? I’ve actually done way more than that! I… uh… I…” Sweetie looked over at her father, suddenly unsure of revealing just how sexually mature she’d become to the same pony who had taught her how to ride a bicycle. Her blush deepened further. She didn’t know why she should feel embarrassed when it was his stallionhood half-poking out from behind the cushion!

Rarity finished Sweetie’s paused sentence: “...you gave Button’s little joystick a hoofjob after the school dance. It’s adorable that it should make you blush so much.”

“Wh-H-how!?” Sweetie squeaked. Her mind was racing through the memories of the school dance the previous month: the hurried, fumbling groping behind the school-gym, how slimy and slippery it had felt against her hooves, how quickly he’d started to groan and buck after only a few clumsy pulls… and how guilty she’d felt afterward. She couldn’t even look at Button for a week without turning red! “How did you know!?”

“Cream Heart is in my yoga class, she told me about it the next day.” Rarity shrugged.

“His mom told you?” Sweetie tried to keep the screech out of her voice. “The next day? How did she know!?”

“Button told her, of course.” Rarity giggled.

Sweetie’s eyebrow twitched with pure anger at her coltfriend. “Why would…. Gah!”

“Oh, don’t be too harsh on your beau, dear.” Rarity leaned back into her armchair, flicking her magnificent mane dramatically. “Colts are liable to say anything into a mare’s ear when they are mounted and bucking away… particularly about other recent conquests! Once they’re a bit older they realize a true stud is discrete and doesn’t need to brag.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “I’m sure Button was simply bursting with enthusiasm to tell his Mother during their session that very same evening that it wouldn’t be his first release of the night.”

Sweetie Belle nearly choked, a cough rising in her that seemed to catch in her throat from the sheer shock of it all. “B-button… and his mom?! ...h-horseapples!”

“Language Sweetie!” Rarity scolded, “It’s all quite true. Cream Heart was actually telling me because she was trying to make the case that you and Button could never be a match. The protective little harlot!” Rarity sniffed, turning up her nose. “Can you believe she told me: ‘if size preference was genetic, her son would never be able to satisfy Sweetie Belle’?”

The gears in Sweetie’s mind clinked slowly, struggling to process the information. She was still trying to picture Cream Heart, her coltfriend’s mother… the sweet, genuine mare who always sent her son off with an embarrassing hug and kiss… underneath that same son, her coltfriend, getting a hard, incestuous rutting.

“Throwing her own son under the wagon like that, just to try and desperately cling to him for a few more years!” Rarity shook his head and looked remorsefully at her little sister. “I knew he was on the small side, but I’m sure those parts will catch up, Sweetie. He’s a fine young colt.”

“G-gah!” Sweetie squeaked, gripping her own ears with her forehooves. “I… I d-don’t care about how big Button is dow-”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Rarity cut her off, “You will. Cream Heart might have been going about it for the wrong reasons, but if you are my sister… and Mother’s daughter, to be frank… you’ll soon find that you require a significantly larger than aver-”

“Stop! Just stop.” Sweetie shook her head, trying to exorcise all the information she was getting. “I… I just can’t believe all this! You and dad! Button and his mom… has bucking your family become normal at some point!?”

Rarity took a deep calming breath before addressing her sister. “I really am sorry, Sweetie Belle. I have been dreadfully derelict in my duty as your older sister. You are so innocent.” The fashionista swished her tail. “Yes. It is normal. We don’t talk about it in polite company, of course, and everypony keeps such things as closely guarded secrets… but ‘swimming in the family pool’ is quite the Equestrian tradition.”

“What?”

“Oh, I’m not saying everypony does it, Sweetie.” Rarity went on quickly, ignoring her little sister’s reaction, “but many, many do. What a simple and satisfying way to take care of one’s constant heats? Or to give critical experience and learning to the next generation?” Rarity tapped the arm of the chair idly. “There are even different traditions among the tribes…

Pegasi often have small families, with only two or three siblings, close in age. They tend toward sharing first-times between brothers and sisters. Fluttershy and Zephyr were inseparable when she was younger. His awkwardness and her shyness made them as insular a breeding pair as could be imagined… and now poor Zephyr has been left behind. Even your friend, Scootaloo — she sees Rainbow Dash as her big sister. What do you think they are doing on those ‘special’ Saturday nights? Isn’t it strange that Dash’s cloud home always drizzles on those evenings?

Earth ponies are nearly overt about it. Their families have so many brothers, sisters, cousins… they nearly always have a lifted tail near their age happy to help quench those burning needs. I know your friend Applebloom simply loves when the Apple family reunion occurs — there’s a reason she disappears for the entirety of that weekend, Sweetie. And the only reason she doesn’t partake of her legendary brother is simply due to the impossible size difference involved! Big Mac is notorious for having only been completely ‘sheathed’ by two mares… much to my own shame. One is his wife, of course. The other is a certain stetson-wearing apple-farmer. If genetics are a factor in a mare’s… capacity’... for her stud, Applebloom will join that short list soon enough!

And finally… unicorns. As you know, our families about the same size as the pegasi’s; two or three foals at most. I don’t blame Mother for that, though… passing a foal in childbirth is difficult enough without adding one of these to their head! So, our noble tribe has always tended toward… intimate parental relationships. A gentle, guiding Mother showing her colt the way to treat a lady after his first drop… Or a stalwart, earnest ather gently bringing his beloved filly into the joy of the full bloom of marehood... all without unexpected foals thanks to our magic.” Concluding her lecture, Rarity directed a thoughtful smile over toward Hondo.

Sweetie sputtered, each startling fact hitching in her brain… each seeming so impossible, while also connecting subtle cues and clues…. Innuendos she’d always wondered about but never pressed home. It was all too terrible to accept, and yet seemingly impossible to deny.

But she tried, nonetheless.

Sweetie tried to think of another unicorn she knew well, somepony to disprove Rarity’s matter-of-fact revelations. “N-no… Twilight would never sleep with her father. I just ca-”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Rarity hushed her, “First off, yes. I have heard first-hoof from Night Light about his romps with Twilight. He would fall into that category of stallions who are a bit too chatty whilst in the bedroom. But Twilight is an odd case… she actually prefers her brother.”

“Sh-shining?”

“Quite. The way she dotes on him is rather adorable, isn’t it?”

Sweetie scrunched up her face, hot, blushing blood making her feel as red as a Sweet Apple Acres’ apple. “I… I can’t believe it. How would I not have heard about… everything?”

“Discretion, Sweetie.” Rarity clicked her tongue. “Gentleponies certainly do not share the details of the bedroom and the hayloft with the young and the innocent. And despite your physical growth, you have remained as sweetly pure as the snowy color of your coat, little filly.”

Sweetie bristled, the hackles rising on her neck, as she sat more upright. She hated being made out to be immature. “I am not a filly! I’m a grown-up!”

“Of course, of course.” Rarity grinned dismissively waving a hoof. “Your red blush and outrage were deceiving me… my mistake!” She giggled infuriatingly. “Really Sweetie, it’s alright to be shocked and scared, we all had our first times.”

“I’m not scared!” Sweetie slammed a hoof down, fuming. “It’s… it’s just a lot. And I thought you said your first time was overseas! Not with… with Dad.”

Rarity’s smile shrank and she glanced over at Hondo, before continuing. “Well… some firsts were had overseas. Let’s just say that the stallions of those fashion circles have certain preferences… preferences which might lead them to select unorthodox orifices when entertaining a mare.”

“Gross!” Sweetie stuck her tongue out, shaking her head.

“Oh not at all, not at all!” Rarity clucked. “Especially if you know the right preparatory spells! I had half-convinced myself that I shared that preference… before our father became the first stallion to take me naturally.” Rarity grinned, batting her eyelids over at Hondo sultrily, despite that stallion’s refusal to look anywhere but at the coffee table. “Thank you again, Father, for showing me the wonder of true rutting.”

“Bleh! Ick!” Sweetie squeaked. “Don’t make those eyes at dad! And you!” Sweetie shouted, fixing her father with a pointed hoof, her volume loud enough to finally jerk his eyes up. “Would you stop just sitting there like some mopey colt with his hoof caught in the cookie jar? Say something!” Sweetie’s shout reached its telltale squeak. “And that pillow isn’t hiding anything. By the way. You look ridiculous.”

“I must agree.” Rarity nodded, a blue aura snapping over her horn as she telethaumically took hold of the comically undersized throw pillow covering barely a third of Hondo’s groin.

“W-wait, that’s not what I meant for you to d-” Sweetie chirped, covering her eyes with her hooves… though not completely.

Once again, Hondo’s excessive stallionhood made its presence known. Completely uncovered, the girthy trunk of horseflesh rose nearly halfway up his seated body, before the semi-flaccid, mottled-pink top drooped away from the rest of the flesh, creating a sort of floppy, inverted ‘J’.

“H-hey!” Hondo gulped, “Rarity, honey… if Sweetie isn’t ready… if she doesn’t want this… you have to back off. I knew this wasn’t a good idea!” Hondo’s mumbling blush made him hard to hear, quite unlike his usual, boisterous self. “Little Sweetie is still just a filly, we shouldn’t have sprung this on her.”

Sweetie felt her coat-hair stand on end once again. She hated that word.

Filly.

Even her father thought she was an immature little baby. Somepony to be protected! Always the foal of the family. She wasn’t.

“Oh please, Father, a stallion really knows little about such things. I’ve had many a heart to heart with my little sister. I’ve heard the squeaks… some from the bed-springs, some from her muzzle... that come from her room when she thinks nopony can hear. I’ve seen her flushed face in the spring season.” Rarity grinned, arching those eyebrows once again with that pure, elegant look of dripping sex, catching her father’s gaze before pointing her hoof over at Sweetie. “...and I can see how even now she’s peeking from behind those hooves… at her beloved father’s big… fat… stallioncock.”

With each dripping word, Rarity used a small jolt of magic to tug down Sweetie’s hooves. She didn’t find herself resisting much — the fear and shock was blurring in with the excitement of the situation. Her pounding heart was stoked by equal parts nervousness and anticipation.

And, as much as she hated to admit it, she did want to see that massive stallionhood once again… starkly magnificent, beautiful in its rugged, sheer size.

“W-why… why are you getting hard?” The silly question escaped her lips before she could tame the squeaking exhortation. With her hooves down, her wide-green eyes were able to take in every detail of the drooping tip of her father’s penis as it started to inflate, pulsing with throb after throb, slowly erecting back to the even girthier, rigid, shining log of cockflesh she’d seen bucking her older sister earlier.

“I… uh… I can’t help it, having two beautiful mares watching it… watching me.” Hondo gulped, starting to scramble for a throw pillow again. “S-sorry, I’ll cover u-”

“You’ll do no such thing, Father.” Rarity clipped him off, her magic briefly jerking Hondo’s hooves away from his furtive attempts to conceal himself. “Sweetie’s enjoying this view.”

“I-I… I’m… n-not!” Sweetie’s lips mumbled out a denial. Why did her tongue feel so thick in her throat? Why did it feel like her whole body was on pins and needles?

“Oh please, stop.” Rarity rolled her eyes. “Look at you Sweetie, sweating like one of Applejack’s sows. Father and I can both see you biting your lip, can see your tail lashing stiffly against the cushions like a puppy-dog… for Celestia’s sake, you’re even rubbing your legs together: is something between them bothering you, Sweetie?”

Sweetie’s eyes briefly flicked off her father’s ostentatious erection to her sister before zipping back. She did feel something inside her… a warm heat… a something she’d felt at other times, in the throes of season, with one of her sister’s vibrating toys in hoof, poised on her bed, back arched off the sweaty sheets in pleasure.

A swollen heat. A dripping heat.

The flesh button of crackling pleasure suddenly seemed to no longer fit in its usual, nestled hiding place. It felt like it had been stung by a honeybee, swollen and alien as it ground against the rapidly dampening curtains around it.

No… why? Not now!

“Relax, Sweetie.” Rarity cooed, her smile both welcoming and predatory… part motherly, part hyena, “Stop fighting it so, don’t be scared. Don’t be a frightened filly. Let those feelings bubble up! Be a mare! Let that primal marehood cry out within you... Take a deep breath through your nose.”

Sweetie felt like she was losing it. Losing control. The sweat was trickling out from under her purple-pink mane now, running in little rivulets down her brow and her neck. Only Rarity’s hypnotic instructions made any sense… a lifeline amidst the churning ocean of confused excitement.

But it was a lifeline drawing her deeper into the maelstrom.

Sweetie took in a deep, snuffling breath. Her olfactory cavity was filled with the musky wash of her father’s pheromones, already richly hanging in the cabin air from the still-cooling puddles of his earlier ejaculations… now brought back to a roaring intensity from the burble of pre-juices starting to slick his nearly fully erect pink cock-tip.

The natural sex-perfume was potent. It was like a mix of all her warm and comforting memories of her father mixed with every trope of masculine studliness in smell-form. Every hug, every paternal pat on the head, blending with debauched visions of rugged stallion-farmponies’ stinking crevices… of dashing, debonair, unicorns whisking her away to love-hotels to defile her… of surly pegasi pinning her in steamy locker rooms.

Sweetie’s mind boiled with pornographic fantasies ignited through that primitive olfactory neural circuit… a biological relic from the ancient plains that could waylay even the most modern of mares and reduce her to the dripping, sweating, drooling mess of a broodmare in heat.

“Ahn~...” Sweetie tried to stifle the little grunt and groan that fulled her sniff, the tremors quickly growing into something more powerful, a shake that became an earthquake. She felt that budding engorgement between her legs become unbearable, like it was about to burst.

And then her lower muscles quivered. Spasmed.

Clenched.

No! Not now, not in front of them!

Sweetie’s throbbing lovebud shot out from its hiding place, her teen-filly petals blooming open and spreading against the fabric of the chair. With three quick squeezes, her fillyhood winked out, sending the pleasurenub tormenting her mashing out against the damp fabric, each time leaving a light splatter of nectar behind in the trifecta of wink-kisses.

At least her seated position hadn’t shown them everything. But there was no denying that they would both know exactly what had just happened. The quivering, pseudo-convulsion and her squeak could not be mistaken.

“Poor Sweetie,” Rarity cooed, standing up and trotting over, placing a hoof under her arm. “Stop fighting it! Trust your big sister. Please.”

Sweetie’s heart was pounding. Her head was racing. Her nethers were throbbing. She felt like she was trapped, trying to do a hundred things at once, with one hoof tied behind her back.

Desperate. Needy.

And she did trust Rarity.

These feelings were real.

And she was tired of being a filly. Of being a squeaky little shocked, scared baby.

She was ready. Ready to be a mare.

“I… I…. OK…” Sweetie gulped, shakily letting Rarity lift her to a standing position, “OK. But I don’t know… how.”

“Leave that to me.”

Author's Note

The lore-dump and background chapter!

I know some of you guys LOVE story-setting, so hopefully this scratches that itch.

What do you guys think of this story's approach to cultural-family-relationships in Equestria?

What did you guys think of the more specific background for the Rarity-family antics?

And if you're liking the story, of course, PLEASE send me a like!