The Life And Times of a Terrible Pony

Ruby Velvet. Born to a the crashing of a thunderstorm, while I fucked her mother in the ass. She looked so pathetic and small - but she quickly found her hooves, and stumbled until she found her mother’s milk. I named her, and gave her a kiss on the forehead, and rubbed the cum from my cock off onto her tiny little wings. Considering how covered in goo she already was, I doubt she noticed, but it felt good to claim my property.

I reminded Pony that Doesn’t Matter that she was not allowed to speak to any pony that wasn’t me - including our daughter. She cried and protested, but a raised hoof quieted her down. The amount of fear on her face was fresh, and much more than I’d seen before - I’m not sure which pony why thought I was going to hit.

Enough about Useless though. I’m rather cross with her right now. About my daughter, about Ruby Velvet, is what I want to write today. She was adorable as a filly, and she’s just starting to turn over into beautiful grace. Teenage ganglyness and ack of cutie mark aside, she’s becoming quite a mare. Her first heat is coming soon, and I’m holding out hope that if I deny her any self-pleasure, she’ll beg me to fuck her. That will certainly be the push I need to concur that at stubborn little gem.

Her name comes from her eyes - the same eyes as her mother, though obviously better in every way. Her coat is pure white, like my own, and her mane is Maroon - though it curls and waves in a picture of grace, unlike the mop of maroon on her mother. In body she looks just like her grandmother - wide hips and elegant legs, just enough weight to be healthy, a picture of fertility. Her muzzle has just enough curl and her horn is slightly longer than average - truly, she is the most beautiful mare I’ve ever seen. And she isn’t even a mare yet. The mere thought of her body fills me with arousal and I bite my lip as I imagine her showing herself to me - sometimes I picture her being willing, meekly bowing and presenting herself, tail raised and vulva winking with arousal. Sometimes I picture something a little more realistic, a collar and chain holding her down, a spreader bar forcing her into the position I want her in.

I should’ve named her after a storm - she’s beautiful in the way that lighting is. I cannot year my eyes away and yet, I know that she could kill me. It’s only a question of when.

Of course, that’s hypothetical. I feel that way when I look at her but, when I think of it logically, it hardly seems it would make sense. I am much stronger physically and much more experienced, and I’m a practiced unicorn. I’m nowhere near the level of some unicorns I know of course but I do think I’m half decent at using magic to cause pain.

The way Ruby makes me feel is strange. I get lost in her eyes like a lover, but when I look at her I feel...betrayed, somehow. Like creating her was wrong of me. I want to own and hurt her, but I feel at the same time a warring instinct of parenthood - I want to hold and comfort her, and treat her like my foal. Which she is, of course. I don’t really know where I’m going with this. I need parental advice.

I dreamt of mother again last night - it’s been awhile. I pictured Ruby, all grown up, and Rarity - they stood over me, my hooves chained to the floor so I could do nothing but lay on my back. They pressed their pussies together, both standing with one hind leg on either side of my head - Ruby was positioned over my body, as if she was going to 69 me, and my mother was facing away. I could smell their thick arousal, see them winking. Whenever one would wink, the other would, their bodies twitching at the sensation. The smell of estrus struck me, as did a drip from Ruby’s pretty, puffy pink vulva - straight into my panting mouth. The taste was acrid.

They began to piss on my face, first Ruby and then Rarity - and I found I couldn’t move at all. I was trapped in place, unable to close my mouth or move my tongue or swallow or blink, even. It burned my eyes and flowed into my airway, but I couldn’t even cough. It tasted amazing and the smell was intoxicating, and I woke up coming right as I began to fall unconscious in my dream.

I miss my mother. I wish I had the chance in life to talk to her about all this. I can’t imagine she would’ve let me even finish talking, much less partake with me - but my life feels incomplete now that I don’t have the chance.

My dreams about her keep getting worse - they’d be nightmares to anyone but me. I’m questioning if they’re natural, to be honest. Probably some kind of trauma from her not speaking to me enough when I was foal. She tried but, she certainly was a busy Mare. I spent a lot of time with Aunt Sweetie. She’s beautiful, too, in her own way - I should invite her over again soon. Maybe she can meet Ruby.

No. I don’t think it would be wise. I lament this lack of a family I’ve given her. I feel I need to fix it. Treat her better, but at still try to get her to treat others worse. I’m not sure if I can. Should I, even?

I should stop asking this diary for advice is what I should do.

...it’s just so lonely here. I rarely see anypony anymore. I barely even work. I feel like I’m fading, like I haven’t done anything to make me feel like myself in such a long time. I’m exhausted.

Maybe I should host a party.

Signed, Velour. Apologies for the lack of grace in this entry.
End Entry the Sixth.