I Feel Pretty
By AJ Aficionado
For Anonymous
Three fillies lazed quietly in the summer heat; windows open to the dry Ponyville summer to catch the fleeting gasps of cooling breeze off the Everfree.
Lanterns hung from the wooden ceiling of The Cutie Mark Crusader Clubhouse unlit, not that anypony would use them and add to the already stifling heat inside the tree fortress. As fortune would have it, the afternoon sun let in more than enough to light the well-furnished headquarters and locus of the pre-teen trio’s activities focused on earning their cutie marks.
Apple Bloom put down the magazine she’d been reading for cutie-mark research to look down at her flank yet again which remained resolutely blank. “Ah swear we can’t win for losing. My jaw still hurts from this mornin’ and no cutie mark for fightin’.”
“Hey, at least you have no visible marks!” Scootaloo groused, touching under her right eye with a wince after taking a long lick from her rainbow-flavored popsicle. “Lucky thing my aunts are as cool as I am or I’d be in sooo~ much trouble!”
“Cooler than my parents would have been… and my sister!” Sweetie Belle rubbed a tender spot on her belly, sporting a reddish-purple and hoof-shaped bruise beneath her ivory coat while licking on a lemonade-flavored popsicle. Scootaloo really did have an impressive jab. “I still hurt like hay though…”
“All over some silly statue,” Apple Bloom shook her head. “Well, I’ll tell yeh Applejack and Granny let me hear it after they heard about our fight. Even Big Mac was lettin’ me have it!”
Sweetie Belle’s heart fluttered at the mention of her secret crush’s name and her fillyhood winked wetly. She’d had eyes for the farming stallion ever since befriending Apple Bloom a couple of years previous. Something about his silent, stoic gaze, beautiful baritone voice, and gentle nature despite his imposing size made him an adorable, lovable cuddle-bear the likes of which Sweetie had never known.
Cursing her heat, she shoved the rest of her popsicle into it with a high-pitched squeak and a satisfied moan. The other two made a face but said nothing. They’d been through it themselves enough not to object. “For the life of me, I’ll never understand how we got mad enough to actually attack each other like that…”
“Cheerilee’s right. That weirdo Discord really is bad luck.” Scootaloo nodded sagely at her own words. “Speaking of beatdowns, that’s some heat you're having, Sweetie!”
“Oh, it’s just miserable!” Sweetie Belle raised a hoof to her head and swooned atop her makeshift bed of fluffy pillows in a bid to do her sister proud. “All I can think about are things I’m not allowed to do yet!”
“‘Things you aren’t allowed to do yet’!” Scootaloo replied with a haughty smile. “Wait until Rainbow Dash finds out I’ve been in a fight. After she tells me off for fighting with you two, we’re totally gonna get it on!”
“Personally, ah just don’t get the big deal.” Apple Bloom walked over to the icebox and pulled out another lemon pop which she threw over to Sweetie Belle who caught it. “All this fuss over tuckin’ when ah been watching animals do it my whole life — whole lot o’ pumpin’ ‘n’ gruntin’ and yeh get baby animals. They don’t even care enough to do it unless they’re in season. So, what’s the big deal about it? Whole lotta hype over hayseed, I tell yeh!” Apple Bloom looked longingly at her flank. “There’s only one thing I need right now and that’s a cutie mark!”
“Well, what if the cutie-mark is for having sex?” Scootaloo gave her popsicle a skilled twirl of her tongue, no doubt learned from her greatest hero.
“Then I’m doomed!” Sweetie Belle interjected dramatically, covering her eyes with both forehooves.
“Hey, come on, Sweetie…” Scootaloo raised a defensive hoof. “I was just messing with you earlier! You don’t actually think you’re too ugly to find a colt?” The skateboarding crusader bit down on her popsicle like a lit cigar, dangling it from the corner of her mouth. “Listen, I’ve been ‘noticing’ fillies for a very long time. Trust me, you’re good-looking enough!”
“Been noticin’ for one, maybe two years, more like!” Apple Bloom grinned smugly at Scootaloo.
“Yeah, yeah... I still got a couple of years of practice on both of you — that makes me ‘expert’ here!” Scootaloo turned her attention back to Sweetie Belle. “Back on topic: Zecora can brew a potion to ensure you don’t accidentally get pregnant, so why not give colts a try? You know us two got your back and won’t snitch.”
Sweetie Belle scratched her chin. She knew the subject was going to come up eventually but never felt entirely comfortable talking about it, even with her two most trusted confidants. She hadn’t had Apple Bloom’s expertise with animal husbandry or Scootaloo’s intense and by now somewhat legendary experience filly-fooling with Rainbow Dash, but she wasn’t completely uneducated about her own sexuality. She knew she liked males. She knew she liked them strong, confident, and soft-spoken. And she knew she liked them older.
Much older.
But unlike the sexual bond between fillies and mares, long accepted as normal and healthy by Equestrian society, such age differences among the opposite sex were not looked upon with such respect — even loathing if the older partner is a stallion.
And worse, when the apple of your eye is the brother of one of your best friends, the prospect of shoving popsicles up your fillyhole until you're eighteen suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unreasonable idea.
“Yeah, I guess I could look into it…” Sweetie Belle muttered noncommittally, not able to completely meet with Scootaloo’s eyes.
Her reluctance was immediately noticed by Apple Bloom. “What’s wrong, Sweetie. Tell us!”
“We know you’re not telling us everything. Just spit it out already!” Scootaloo added.
Sweetie’s mouth scrunched up with frustration. “Fine! Drag it out of me, why don’t you!” She sighed looking out the window at the cloudless summer sky, consoling herself with another bite of popsicle. “The truth is, girls… I’m not really into colts.”
“Not into colts? That’s great! You want me to teach you how to swirl, cuz I’m down for that anytime!” Scootaloo jumped to her hooves and started to saunter towards Sweetie Belle.
Sweetie shook her head, visibly alarmed as she took an immediate step back. “W-wait! I don’t mean it like that, Scoots!”
Scootaloo stopped mid-strut, ears flopped, and sulked back to her pile of cushions. “Oh… r-right…”
“Sorry, Scootaloo…” Sweetie bowed her ears, immediately regretting the shame she’d caused her friend. “Didn’t mean to get your hopes up…”
“So, what is it then?” Apple Bloom asked.
“I do like males… really,” Sweetie Belle started to say, the anxiety building with each crushing moment. “I just don’t like the colts from school, you know? I don’t find them… cool.”
Apple Bloom put a hoof to her chin and nodded. “I reckon that’s normal. Not a lot of choices at school, is there? I mean, who wants to be with Snips and Snails?” She made a face that was quickly copied by the other two.
The three then sat in silence, contemplating the sorry selection Ponyville Elementary had to offer. “Okay, so you don’t like the goofs at school. Can’t blame you for that!” Scootaloo admitted. “But it sounds like you got your eye on somepony…”
“I guess you could say that....” Sweetie made a goofy grin as she adjusted the popsicle between her thighs. “Ooh, that’s better…”
“Then who?” the other two Crusaders said in unison.
Sweetie sighed dramatically, shifting the popsicle inside of her; loud squelching and plopping noises filling the humid air of the clubhouse while the onlooking duo’s faces flushed red. “Apple Bloom, have you ever seen your sister… get tucked by a stallion before?”
“What? No!” Apple Bloom shook her head hastily. “Do you know what mah sis would do if she caught me peeping?” she asked while Scootaloo, who was an only foal, said nothing.
“I have… several times. Rarity isn’t shy about how pretty the stallions make her feel — she tells me all the time.” A wave of bitterness made its presence known briefly in Sweetie Belle’s eyes before turning wistful once more. “No matter how stressed out she gets sewing clothes or how angry with me she is at the time, she’s the nicest pony you’ll ever meet after her latest coltfriend leaves the house. So tell me, girls — can a colt really do all of that when they have just as much experience as I do — zero?”
Scootaloo nodded, smiling. “You got a point there! The older ponies sure do know what they’re doing!”
“So ya like grown stallions, then?” Apple Bloom figured out what she was getting at. “Ah don’t know… Ah don’t think that’s such a good idea, Sweetie Belle. Fer starters, who’s gonna want to tuck a filly?” she asked. “That ain’t exactly looked kindly upon around these parts or in any parts, mind. And even if they want to, how are they gonna fit it all in ya?”
“I…” Sweetie Belle raised the forehoof for silence while she considered her answer, no longer driving the popsicle into her warm and dripping fillyhood. “Okay, I haven’t figured any of that out but that doesn’t matter! What matters is colts are just… ugly. And short! And they don’t know anything more than we do about pleasing their fillyfriend. I mean, how can they know what I want if I don’t know what I want?”
Apple Bloom shrugged. “Well, then how do you know you want a stallion instead of a colt?”
Sweetie Belle’s eyes took on a fanatical gleam, typically only seen when in pursuit of her special talent. “Because stallions are tall, strong, handsome, confident and… so powerful!” Sweetie gave a needy moan as the popsicle she’d been driving into herself broke; she quickly withdrew it and substituted it with a fresh one from the pack Apple Bloom gave her earlier.
“You don’t know what it’s like, either of you.” Sweetie Belle’s breathing became ragged at her continued efforts to cool the fires of estrus burning inside her. “Seeing your big sister lying there on her back while a huge stud pushes himself inside of her. Like she can’t do anything but lay there and take it. At that moment, she’s all that matters in his world! She’s his idol! Or better yet, his Princess!”
Sweetie Belle traced a hoof around the arch of her ear as if presenting herself to an invisible admirer as she continued thrusting with her other hoof, her pace starting to pick up. “I want that feeling so bad! I want to be... as pretty... as Rarity!”
Her fantasy consuming her, Sweetie Belle arched her back and screamed her pleasure, her tail sweeping from side to side across the smooth, wooden floor. As her friends watched, the rush of fillycum blasted the popsicle out of her grasp and sent it skidding up against the cushion Apple Bloom was sitting on, coming within an inch of her hoof.
“Annnnd that concludes our meeting today.” Apple Bloom threw up her hooves. “But before we leave, we’d better clean up or Applejack will have a fit when she takes a whiff of what’s in here.”
“Oh, uh… sorry. I think I got a little carried away.” Sweetie Belle grinned sheepishly as she came down off her orgasmic high. “But there’s always a chance to get a cutie mark in scrubbing the floor!”
“Yeah, a lame one!” Scootaloo made a gagging gesture with her hoof.
“Now, now. It’s all about teamwork here, Scoots.” Apple Bloom made a tutting gesture. “All fer one and one fer all, remember?”
“So we’re all agreed?” Sweetie Belle hopped up from the floor, the pursuit of cutie-mark glory lighting up her eyes once more.
“Alright, fine…” said Scootaloo. “But you’ll forgive me for hoping we don’t get our cutie marks from this!”
“Probably not but say it with us now anyway!” Apple Bloom stood up, proudly displaying her fluffy chest for all the room to see.
“CUTIE MARK CRUSADERS FLOOR SCRUBBERS, YAY!”
To the relief of all, no cutie mark appeared when they finished cleaning up.
The three split up after the meeting; Scootaloo zooming off on her wing-powered scooter into town, while Apple Bloom went back to work on the farm, leaving Sweetie Belle to make her way back into Ponyville alone.
She briefly considered staying behind, maybe trying to make conversation with Big Mac, and realized quickly how pointless an idea that was. No matter who he was talking to, nopony ever knew him to have much to say unless he got very angry or on the rare occasion he would sing.
The blazing heat of the day was suddenly cut short by the swiftest-moving bank of unusual pink storm clouds Sweetie had ever seen, and all without a pegasus in sight to guide them.
“What the hay?” Sweetie Belle stopped in the middle of the winding dirt road down the Canterlonian foothills overlooking Ponyville proper. As the front moved over the town, something unthinkable was happening to it. The bustling streets, normally so filled with commuting ponies, were completely empty. She could see the incoming squall line from where she stood, coating the usually lush, verdant Ponyville grass with the strangest-looking rusty-brown hail she’d ever seen.
She was uncertain what it meant but remembered that older ponies always told her never to attempt to travel up and down hills during a rainstorm for the slippery mud and potential for lightning strikes but make her way back to Sweet Apple Acres and wait for an adult to come and pick her up. But she couldn’t take her eyes off the strange storm sweeping over Ponyville, unlike anything she’d ever seen before.
“Somepony’s coming...” Snapping out of her reverie, she turned her head at the sound of slow, heavy hooffalls and the rattling of an old carriage from back the way she’d come.
The groaning of wheels bearing a heavy load of crates and barrels creaked gradually around a curve in the road, revealing a powerfully built red stallion rippling with muscles, pulling the wagon with the ever-present harness around his powerful shoulders and neck.
The ground shook slightly with each of his heavy but measured steps. Staring at him in awe, Sweetie Belle instantly noted with a pang of anticipation his bulging, black, seed-carrying applesack and sheathed stallion saber swinging gently beneath him.
He halted dead in his tracks and looked down at Sweetie Belle right in front of him, his cheeks turning pink and looked determinedly away.
Squick
Sweetie Belle suddenly knew what he’d looked away from as her fillyhood winked strongly again, her hind legs splayed, tail flagging wildly through the air.
“I’m s-sorry, Big Mac!” Sweetie stammered, turning her whole body to face him properly. “Hey, there’s a storm coming, you might not want to risk the hill today…”
The hill wasn’t that steep but Apple Bloom had explained to her and Scootaloo how it worked with Big Mac tying chains to the back of the wagon and letting it slowly drag him down the hill under his guidance. His strength made even fairly steep grades doable, but Sweetie doubted even he could keep traction in the mud with all of that weight.
Big Mac cursed silently (“horseapples!”) and pulled the wagon off the road, parking it beneath the massive boughs lining the grassy shoulder of the road, Sweetie following him all the way so she could help remove him from his harness. And if she were to be truthful, to get a closer, uninterrupted look at his beautiful, stallion package and drink in his intoxicating male musk which seemed to be looming ever-larger in her senses.
Sweetie couldn’t help but “mmm” at the heat and scent of his sweaty body as she unstrapped him, unhooking the buckles with her teeth and pulling them free. Tearing her eyes from the sexy sight of his studly undercarriage, she emerged from beneath him and looked up into his eyes.
“Er, Thanks!” Big Mac said. Did he look a bit nervous saying that?
“Oh, you’re welcome!” Sweetie smiled back shyly. “Should we go back up and wait for Rarity to get me? Why was there no warning about this storm? Did you hear one was coming?”
“Eenope.” Big Mac shook his head. “I can take you home, Sweetie Belle. No tellin’ how long that storm will last. Them apples will keep under the trees.”
Sweetie Belle gasped. Not one but four entire sentences from The Mac himself! And he still looked visibly flustered by her earlier erotic display. Did this mean what she thought it did? “But it’s going to rain and those clouds look really…”
“I’ll put you up on my back. I can get us both down that little ol’ nothing of a hill.”
Big Mac smiled as he finished speaking. Smiled… at her!
Without thinking she traced a hoof up her neck and ear like she’d seen Rarity do to entice stallions before giving her lip the lightest of nips. “T-thanks! I’m sure my sister will appreciate not having to make the trip!”
Out of the corner of her eye, Sweetie noticed a very large and dark-skinned presence emerge fully from beneath the massive stallion, dropping nearly to the ground from its sheath and growing larger by the second — its freakishly huge, bumpy head seemingly turning to face her, drawn to her like a divining rod.
Every part of her wanted to turn and face it but she willed herself to maintain eye contact, afraid of scaring him off if he realized she’d been ogling his bits. As imposing as his anatomy was, she could practically feel him inside of her already, even if such a feat wasn’t possible… yet.
One day, she could make room inside of her and milk even such a virile stallion as Big Mac dry — she already knew Rarity could do it, having seen them both at it with her own eyes. Their combined juices flowing together as one down her thighs, mingled with sweat to the silken sheets below. Rarity’s smile, playful whooping and the sound of plapping thrusts filling the room as Sweetie Belle hid in secret from her sister’s well-stocked walk-in closet, rubbing her tiny clitoral nub as hard as she could, teeth biting down on her lip hard enough to make herself bleed in order to keep herself from screaming in rapturous pleasure…
“Um… eeyup!” Big Mac replied cautiously before carefully and painlessly biting down on the scruff of her neck and placing her on his back.
Sweetie’s head began to swim with wild speculation and fanciful theories. Had he noticed her looking at his family’s pride and joy? Was he as attracted to her as she was to him? His erection was so massive! But she remembered Rarity explaining that stallions, especially young studs like Mac couldn’t always control their bodily impulses around a fragrant and fertile mare, even a filly, in the throes of estrus, any more than she could keep herself from winking her fillyhood at a potential mate. Ponies were built to breed, Rarity explained, but taught to wait until they’re ready; it was what separated ponykind from the uncouth creatures roaming the Everfree.
The Everfree didn’t sound like such a bad deal, all things considered.
Sweetie Belle wanted to scream. The truth was staring her in the face with its solitary and unblinking eye: Big Mac wanted her. It didn’t matter the circumstances, but he was going to ravage her; tip her over and bathe her intimate places with his tongue. But she had to show courage and say something or the opportunity would pass by. A stallion never made anything easy — Rarity said so. As the pair walked down the trail and into the gentle brown rainfall, Sweetie Belle thought and thought on just the right words to say…
Big Mac turned to look at the houses as they passed, the strange brown rain beginning to mat on their coats thickly now and the grass slowly being replaced by piles and piles of... popcorn?
“That’s no rain!” Big Mac exclaimed, increasing his pace until they were at a full gallop. “Ah need to get you home!”
Sweetie Belle grabbed him tightly around the neck and bent down low. Licking her lips, she gasped. It was chocolate milk! Something had gone very wrong and even Big Mac was scared at what it might be. Thoughts of illicit intimacy with the much older stallion were mostly driven from her mind as her mount dodged long-legged rabbits and dancing buffalo in ballerina attire down Main Street past empty stalls. Where had everypony gone?
They were almost to Carousel Boutique; Sweetie could see the tents of Ponyville’s business district, flags waving atop their spires with Rarity’s dress shop towering about them all in the center of the block. Big Mac was at a full gallop now, his masculine scent muted by the sweet scent of cocoa as she buried her face into his back. She clung to him for comfort, trembling in fear of the insanity breaking out all around them.
They were nearly at the front door when Big Mac cried out and his legs began to flail wildly. Sweetie Belle slid off his back and down the stallion’s tail with a loud, sucking splat as her belly impacted the slippery road. She wiped her face clean as best as she could with her unpracticed aura as she got to her hooves “Blech! What in the name of Cerberus’ little brother… Big Mac!”
Sweetie Belle saw the now white-coated stallion laying on the side of the road, groaning. He was covered in the same thick, clear, slimy substance that she was.
“Big Maaac! Are you okay?”
As she drew closer to him, Sweetie knew instinctively something was wrong but couldn’t immediately say what. Big Mac groaned and shook his head, sitting down on his haunches and seeming physically okay but as she watched, his coat turned more… muted. His normally cherry-red coat was reduced to a pale gray as if the chocolate rain had somehow washed out all his color. But at least he could move all his limbs. They were both alright.
“Big… Mac?” Sweetie watched him slowly rise to his hooves, gobs of sweet-smelling goo dripping from his body. Far from concerned over his state, he was looking at her intently now, his slumbering serpent emerging once more from its den, over a foot long and still growing…
Its swollen, pulsating form pointed directly at her!
Despite the insanity around her, Sweetie felt her courage and her increasingly uncontrollable urges begin to assert control. So, what if the road was covered with goop and it was raining chocolate all over town? It’s not like insanity wasn’t a weekly occurrence in Ponyville as it was. There was no doubting the look he was giving her or the now rigid stallionhood before her; Big Mac wanted her. All he needed was a little persuasion. Unnoticed by Sweetie Belle, her own mane and coat began to gray.
“Thanks for escorting me home, Big Mac,” Sweetie Belle strutted her way to the front door, giving his stiffened stallionhood a gentle brush with her tail. “ We got a warm shower in here with room for two. Why don’t you come on in and…” Sweetie Belle thought for a moment, trying to imagine what her big sister might say. “... let me treat you to some friendly company.”
It sounded lame even in her own head, but it seemed to do the trick for Big Mac who began panting lightly and wagging his tail like a dog, his pulsing erection still covered with whatever the road beneath them had transformed into.
Sweetie Belle giggled. Was this a normal thing for some stallions? Some of Rarity’s coltfriends were into roleplaying, even employing elaborate costumes they’d made themselves, being fellow fashion designers. As she’d seen them act the part of everything from conquering warriors to struggling students at high school seeking some special tutoring from teacher Rarity, she supposed acting like an animal wasn’t too far outside of the ordinary. And besides, maybe he was just trying to make her more comfortable — for what filly could resist an adorable puppy dog? “That’s a good boy, Big Mac! Let’s go inside now…”
Big Mac pounced, the smile on his face growing closer and closer until he tackled Sweetie Belle, splashing down right in front of the dress shop with a gelatinous splat. He was still panting, his hot breath tickling her face.
Sluuuurp! Big Mac sent a single lick from the base of her horn, all of the way to the tip.
“Ah-hah! Oh, Mac!” Sweetie Belle’s horn briefly glowed green but quickly extinguished from the sugary splatter and stallion spittle coating the smooth surface of her horn as he continued his frenzied licking.
He is worshipping me, his Princess! Sweetie thought to herself, cooing with delight imagining herself wearing one of Rarity’s gowns; a Lady of old being tended to by her stallion farmhoof while the Lord was away. She was the best thing he would ever know and the fantasy only thrilled her even more. It wasn’t as though the Lord were a bad stallion but how could he compare to the masculine virtues of a hard-working, well-endowed earth pony?
“Ooooh…” Despite the fantasy overlaid on Big Mac’s innumerable licks, which threatened to bring her to orgasm almost instantly, a wave of panic shot through her. Not out here! We’ll be seen! We’re going to be in SO much trouble!
Some part of Sweetie’s consciousness not given over to the desire to tuck knew it was only a matter of time before somepony saw them out in the open engaged in flagrant foal fiddling. And she didn’t need Rarity to teach her that, as the mare, it was her duty to protect her stallion at all costs — that was a deeply ingrained instinct, even in fillies!
“Big Mac, stay!”
Big Mac obediently halted, looking confused at the sudden outburst but was soon panting happily again, gazing into Sweetie’s minty-green eyes just as a dog would his mistress.
“Big Mac, we need to go inside before — WAIT!”
Sweetie Belle’s squealed, a high-pitched scream that gave way to fits to giggle-snorts and then pleasured moans as he began wildly licking her right ear, working his tongue inside as deep as it would go.
“AHN~! Mac, you silly boy! Oh~!” The sensation was incredible. The schlorping wetness, labored breaths and gentle touch of his slickened tongue gliding across the exquisitely sensitive helical folds of her auricle left her barely able to breathe; the tickling sensation and sheer indecency of the act more exhilarating than even the brief time she’d gone zip lining.
“Mac, stop!” Sweetie Belle squealed without any conviction behind it. “Mmm~! Somepony will see us!” She started half-heartedly pushing at Big Mac’s face with her forehooves and his barrel with her hind legs but only ended up sliding backward until her back hit the door. Mac didn’t relent, his aural stimulation driving her closer and closer to the brink of climax. Real panic was beginning to settle in now. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if Big Mac’s life was ruined by this very public display of underage affection!
“Big Maaac!” She dug her tiny hooves in as hard as she could, using the purchase afforded her by the door to her home to finally get him to relent.
Big Mac looked at her and barked happily, then sniffed the air around him and set his eyes on Sweetie’s puffy, white fillyhood, dripping warm and fragrant with the scent of lemons into the puffy hole beneath her tail.
“Mac, no! Eeeeeeek!”
Schlup schlup schlup sclhup schlup
Sweetie’s shivering thighs closed on his head but he’d pinned her fully by this point and there was no escaping his grasp. His sweeping tongue poured over her groin, lapping at her fillyhood, tailhole and nascent teats sending shockwaves of pleasure radiating through every nerve in her body.
“Ah! Ah! Ahhhhhhhh~! “Tears of joy squeezed out from her eyes, tightly closed so she could focus on the overwhelming sensation — mostly coming from her long and perky clitoris, which Big Mac continued to bathe along with the rest of her cocoa and cream-slickened nethers. She idly wondered if Rarity would think much of his wild, undisciplined techniques but who was Sweetie to care?
This was the greatest moment of her life!
Snaking a pair of hooves around both of Sweetie’s hind legs, he inched her legs further apart. Having resigned herself to Big Mac’s sensual assault, he faced no resistance when he buried his muzzle into her marehood, penetrating as deep as he could with his tongue and easily parting her narrow inner walls.
It was all too much feeling her most private and sacred place so swiftly taken, worked up as she already was as his fleshy intruder lashed around inside of her.
Sweetie Belle threw her face to the pink-clouded sky and screamed as not a bolt but a single solid, high-pressure stream of fillycum launched itself into Mac’s waiting maw. Eyes glazed and unfocused, her face frozen in a silly grin, she could hear her obedient dog-pony eagerly lapping up the spillover that coated her most intimate places.
“That was amazing, Big Mac!” she told him as the amorous canine-acting stallion released his pin, allowing her to get back on her hooves, busying himself with grooming the creamy explosion from his fur. “Now you really need to come inside!”
But Big Mac wasn’t done playing outside.
Sweetie reached up for the door handle one-hooved and found it just out of her reach. Unable to use her magic to open it yet and relying on Rarity and her parents to open it her entire life, she’d hoped she was tall enough by now to do it herself when she really needed it opened. Heedless of Sweetie Belle’s plight, Big Mac continued licking at her fillyhood noisily and sloppily as she continued disintegrating into a puddle of pre-teen lust before him.
Desperate and feeling her body begin to recharge for another orgasm, she reached up for the doorknob on two legs, only for it to slip out of her too-small hoof and drop back down on all fours.
schlup schlup schlup
Sweetie Belle’s winking nethers dripped unchecked save for Mac’s slippery tongue down her backside. A hot, lemony miasma filled the air around them.
“Big Mac, I’m begging you to stopppp~!” She stood on her hind legs and attacked again with both forehooves, this time from the top and bottom of the knob, standing up on her shaky hindquarters to wrench it open like an airship gunner’s deck hatch. Though it might have only been because Big Mac’s nose was lifting her up from behind as he continued to endlessly lap at her seemingly unending supply of nectar, she was able to reach it this time and the door opened.
They entered into a grand foyer with places arranged for customers to sit while waiting to enter the shop proper to be measured and select their fabric to be sewed into all sorts of different clothing. Big Mac followed close behind her, continuing to lick his mistress all the way up to the gilt staircase to her bedroom. Their bodies dripped their respective fluids all over the lavender-carpeted floor, Sweetie giggling giddily all the while. Being unable to fly and unable to climb with Big Mac’s tongue continuing its greedy quest to drain the young filly of all her sexual juices, she was only able to get two steps up before her tiny limbs succumbed to his advances.
“Oh, Big Mac, you are wonderful!” She looked back at her lover lovingly, her ears bowed in reverence. “Oh! I-I mean… good boy~!”
As if in response to the praise, she felt Big Mac boop her right under the tail, pressing his nose up against the puffy, donut-shaped ring of muscle and skin and slurped long and wet. “Ah-AAAAAH~!”
Pink bubbles steamed up from the surface of her horn, now manifesting its wild, uncontrolled magic for the first time in her life. They floated down to the carpeted staircase below, sticking briefly in the plush carpeting before bursting like fireworks with a series of sparks and green flashes.
Heedless of the light show taking place in front of him, Big Mac continued to lick the bumpy knot of flesh beneath her tail as if it were the source of immortality itself.
“Ah! Ah! You’re licking my —” Sweetie Belle began to speak but her words quickly trailed off into a trickle of drool as her horn stopped bubbling and began spraying green, white and pink sparks directly like an arcane welder going to work on a steel girder. Were she capable of cognitive thought, she would have thanked the Sun above that her unicorn sparks weren’t warm enough to start a fire, only producing a pleasant tickling sensation to the skin of those it touched.
But the sensation of Big Mac’s tongue in her tail, finally slipping inside the well-washed orifice was far more than simply pleasant.
As she felt it slip inside her, Sweetie cried out again as a stream of slickened heat and wetness bolted out of her like a filly geyser, coating her stallion lover’s neck.
Her horn extinguished, she kneeled down on to the second step, her rump displayed proudly in her roleplaying lover’s face, her sweaty and sticky barrel heaving. “Big Mac, you’re the best! I wish… I could do… something to… repay you?”
Her voice trailed off at the sound of a pair of massive hooves stomping down on the step just above where she lay with a loud crunch, followed by a slow creak of overburdened lumber. The warmth of an enormous furry body and shadow now loomed ominously over Sweetie Belle, casting her in semi-darkness as the light from the crystal chandeliers above was blocked by a very large red stallion’s toned stomach. His enormous stallionhood plopped down on her back with an audible thunk and began snaking up and down her back, brushing against her spine as Big Mac moaned in his deep baritone voice.
Sweetie Belle shivered in mingled fear and anticipation as she sensed his intention, realizing his mare-splitting masculinity was over two-thirds the length of her entire body as it grazed up past her withers.
“Is-is this… going to-to hurt, Big Mac?” she asked timidly as he pulled back enough to position himself against her upper orifice, but the only answer she got was Big Macintosh throwing back his head and baying like a dog at the moon, long and deep.
“Awoooooooooooo!”
“Big Maaac~!”
The well-lubricated flare of his substantial stallion sausage met with predictable resistance from her pre-teen pucker and wouldn’t go in, even already loosened by his tongue and with the copious amounts of lubricant still clinging to it.
Lubrication and patience, Sweetie. That’s the ticket! The words of her sister came to her as if through telepathy, the sinews of her ponut slowly surrendering to the insistent infiltrator.
“Eeeeeeeeeep!”
Somehow, Big Mac’s consistent pressure was enough to drive the fleshy flare fully into her.
“You did it, Big Mac!” Sweetie gave her skewered rump a playful little shake. “Good boy!”
“Grrrraaaah!” Big Mac pushed himself further in, working his organ into her inch by illicit inch, impossibly stretching the filly until the bulge in her stomach began to lift her off the stair she was crouched on and onto all four hooves.
“It feels incredible!” Sweetie Belle touched her bulging abdomen disbelievingly. She expected immense pain and pressure, but she only felt tingling warmth washing in waves all over her body. Even at age eleven, she knew what was happening was entirely impossible by all the laws of the arcane and physics. And yet there she stood, taking every inch of the biggest stallion Ponyville had to offer. “Every part of me feels full!”
Big Mac began to pull himself back out, a slick suctioning sound and the splash of lubrication spilling on the carpet greeted Sweetie’s ears as Big Mac withdrew only to slam it back in with a grunt. Followed by another thrust and then another as he sank himself to his medial ridge, holding her in place with his hooves as she could no longer find traction on the floor
Sweetie’s unquenchable filly fire still blazed within her nethers, another larger, more powerful orgasm than anything she’d ever experienced before, starting from nose, tail and all four hooves began migrating deliberately towards her core. She screamed his name with each single-minded thrust, his every throbbing vein making its presence known, until her voice began to crack.
And suddenly, in the infinitesimal span of ecstasy of their shared erotic bonds, Big Mac’s voice hitched; he grunted, gasped and finally…”Awwwwwooooooooooooooooooo!” He came, bolt after bolt of seed that erupted like lava from the mouth of her filly volcano.
Sweetie whooped for joy. She’d finally done it! Rarity would be so proud after recovering from her fainting spell. But she’d have to acknowledge her marehood after this!
But Big Mac wasn’t done. Having completed his first orgasm, four more followed, whole minutes passing in pure uninterrupted ecstasy for Sweetie Belle as his seed spilling thick and opaque down her legs, joining the growing pool on the stairs.
The pair sweated and dripped together on the stairs for at least half an hour, Big Mac nuzzling her cheek lovingly. Finally, Sweetie felt his erection slide off her with a loud squish and the rush of still more fluids down her hind legs as he dismounted her.
Sweetie Belle cooed at him, turning to face the apple farmer. “Big Mac… will you be my… special some—”
He barked and ran for the open door they’d come in.
“Wait! Big Maaaaac! You are a bad, bad boy! Sweetie Belle gave him chase but by the time she’d reached the door, he was sliding across the road as if he’d been on ice skates.
“Maaaaac!”
Sweetie Belle picked her way through the Apple family’s field of wheat to the pond she knew lay on the other side, the butterflies in her stomach threatening to break free.
Somehow Rarity and her friends had made all the chocolate milk and goo-covered roads return to normal, but it was a miserable time until then. Rarity had married a giant boulder in the intervening days between Discord’s reign and The Return of Harmony which she promptly divorced afterward, explaining in disgust that “he wasn’t who she thought he was.” Adult relationships were weird.
Everypony remembered exactly what they’d done under Discord’s corrupting influence, including Big Mac and herself. And that meant it was time she and Big Mac discussed where they stood now that he was no longer acting like a dog, as much as she kinda missed it. After all, he’d been a very caring lover who’d done more for her than most stallions ever did for Rarity.
Big Mac was laying by the pond, chewing on a piece of grass. He smiled and winked as Sweetie Belle emerged. “You came! Just liked you promised.”
Overcome with joy and tossing aside her carefully scripted plan, Sweetie squeaked his name and tackle hugged the older pony as the pair laughed, Sweetie’s stylish summer hat falling off her head as the two rolled around in the grass. The air came alive with the sound of smacking lips and popping spit as Sweetie took the initiative on the grounded giant, kissing him aggressively.
After a full minute of Prench kissing, Sweetie separated herself from Big Mac with a loud pop, leaving a slick trail of saliva between them, gazing down on him smugly. “Who’s the big pony now, Mac?”
Big Mac snapped the string between them with a lick with a flick of his tongue and nickered contently. “Reckon it serves me right after what I did to you last week.” He gave her an uncertain smile and went silent.
“It was wonderful, Big Mac. Though, I don’t think we’ll be able to manage it again with Discord gone. D-did you enjoy it as much as I did, Mac?” Sweetie couldn’t help but let some of the insecurity she’d been feeling creep into her voice.
“Reckon Ah never wanted it to end. But then Ah heard Applejack calling me from the farm — can’t rightly explain how — and Ah had to go. Wasn’t in muh right mind at all. Might have imagined the whole thing…”
“But you felt something for me... before you became a dog, didn’t you?” Sweetie asked gently.
To his credit, or perhaps due to the lineage of his family, Big Mac answered honestly. “Eeyup.”
Sweetie Belle looked into the stallion’s earnest expression and knew it was all true. So there was only one thing left to ask, even if she knew the likely answer.
“Big Mac? Will you be my special somepony?” Sweetie grinned and batted her eyelashes at him.
Big Mac’s expression fell and he sighed heavily. “Eenope…”
“I kinda expected that,” Sweetie Belle replied, running a hoof through his mane. “Nopony would ever accept us openly seeing each other.”
Big Mac shook his head, then gained a wry gleam in his green eyes. “Not… openly.”
Squick
Sweetie Belle looked back at him, quickly picking up the hint he’d dropped. With a wry grin, she turned away from Big Mac, cocked her tail to the side and displayed her winking fillyhood. “Okay. Then how about as your super-secret special side-filly?”
Big Mac wiggled his eyebrows with a grin as he stood up to straddle her, his organ already growing erect beneath his belly. “Eeyup!”
