Derpy was a perfectly normal adult mare. Which was to say, she had needs. She needed money to support her two daughters, and she needed to put a few bits per month into their college funds. She needed to relax after work. She needed to get away from her daughters and relax with her girlfriends at the pub or bowling alley on Friday nights. She needed to spend as much of the rest of the week as possible with her daughters, whether it was helping with homework, playing board games, or just kicking a buckball at the park. And, every few weeks, she got another—more specific—need.
A need for cock.
Unfortunately, she lived in a small town. All the stallions in Ponyville knew her... her...
Her reputation.
Not that she was easy; no, not that reputation at all. No, Derpy was positively chaste by Ponyville standards. After all, Rarity and Pinkie Pie lived in Ponyville—never mind Sluttershy.
No; her reputation was born in the emergency room and rehab clinics.
Derpy was a klutz, and all the stallions had either spoken to enough other stallions to learn from their experience or learned the hard way. Or, depending on the details of the situation, the can't-get-hard way.
On the progressively more common occasions a new stallion moved to town—Ponyville was growing and expanding—she could generally swoop down on him and get her necessary quota of cock before anypony warned him to avoid her amorous advances, her lewd liaisons, her scandalous solicitations, or her naughty nightcaps.
Sadly for Derpy's sexual needs, it usually only took one such encounter for a stallion to learn on his own to avoid a second encounter with Derpy's delivery slot.
Take Thunderlane, for instance. He and Derpy—Ponyville natives and friends since kindergarten—had lost their virginity together in middle school, and Thunderlane had simultaneously lost the mane on either side of his scalp, gaining his now-signature mohawk not from style, but as a result of several months of painful skin grafts at the Canterlot Pediatric Burn Center.
Or Davenport? Well, his store had previously been called "Quills, Sofas, and Lightning Rods," before he sold off that last third of his business and the mayor, the city council, the rescue squad, and the pastor of the local Celestian Temple had all banned Derpy from being near anything both electrically conductive and even the slightest bit strap on-shaped.
And let's not mention The Doctor. The Doctor was still Derpy's best platonic friend (and how the word 'platonic' made her naughty bits quiver in frustration), because his one visit to Derpy's bedroom had resulted in his sonic screwdriver being rendered all wibbly-wobbly for a very long timey wimey.
Derpy's liaison with Soarin went off strangely disaster-free, and was one of her very best memories, but now that Soarin and Misty Fly were dating, it wouldn't be right to get him back into bed. A mare might have needs, but cheating wasn't something Derpy would ever do.
Or Dinky's biological father... may he Rest Peacefully in Celestia's Eternal Light.
So, when Iron Will brought his motivational seminar to Ponyville, Derpy decided to attend. She was as assertive as she needed to be; but sometimes at a large event she could find a stallion who hadn't heard about her. That meant Derpy could successfully swoop in and seduce him before his wingponies gave him the wave-off.
She didn't find a stallion... but Iron Will's two goat assistants were both (1) technically male and (2) unwarned to avoid her.
They would do.
Or, more specifically, Derpy would do them.
She smiled.
Thunderlane watched the goats following Derpy back to her house and he rubbed his bare scalp in memory.
The smell of seasonings and spices wafted around the whole neighborhood: fresh masa being fried into corn tortillas, and a dense mixture of adobo, cumin, garlic, and bay leaf teased the noses of everypony around.
Customers waited in a line wrapped around Town Square. Derpy took the customer's orders. Sparkler, Derpy's teenage daughter, took their money and made change.
The line moved quickly as Derpy's younger daughter Dinky—adorable in a chef's hat and apron—put the stew onto the tortillas, added onions and cilantro, and plated the orders.
A large spread of fifteen or twenty different bottles of hot sauce, ranging from extra mild to dragon's tears, were arranged on a side table. Ponies picked a hot sauce and put a shot or two onto their tacos before going to sit down. Berry Punch's drink cart across the square was doing equally good business as ponies washed down the spicy seasoned tacos with chilled fruit juices or something stronger. Her Mexicoltan XX Lager was selling particularly well today. Even among those who didn't always drink beer.
The Doctor reached the front of the line. "Derpy, so good to see your business venture doing well."
"Hi, Doc!" Derpy chirped. "We're doing great! How's it going with your time machine?"
"Excellent, I invested a few bits into the Canterlot Savings Bank several centuries ago. I'll go collect my compound interest later today. I also impregnated my great-grandmother, which will make for an interesting experiment in its own right. Well," he said, then gestured at the ponies sitting on benches around town square as they munched on their tacos, "tell me about this little venture?"
"So..." Derpy said, leaning close to the Doctor and whispering, "you remember how I needed your help with Flim and Flam?"
He blinked and nodded.
"Same thing," Derpy said.
"You needed to get back your daughters' college funds after losing the money to a scam?"
"No," Derpy said. "The other Flim-Flam thing."
"You needed to get treated by the Sisters of Plenitude for an emergent sexually transmitted disease the medical establishment had no name for?"
"No," Derpy said, getting exasperated. "The other-other Flim-Flam thing."
"You had to dispose of the bodies of two paramours who accidentally didn't survive a trip to your bed due to an attack of orgasmic lightning?"
"Yes, exactly."
Dinky blorped the stew and chopped onions into a plated pair of tortillas. She smiled up at Doc. "Mister the Doctor, exactly no cilantro, right?"
"Yes, Dinky, thanks for remembering." He mussed her mane with a hoof where it poked out from under her chef's hat.
Derpy blushed at the memory of the incident which had left Doc's sonic screwdriver wibbly-wobbly, and had also required Dinky to fetch the rescue squad after she found Derpy and the Doctor jammed tight in the shower stall with a bottle of lube, matching Prench maid outfits, and a bushel of cilantro.
To this day, the smell of cilantro put Derpy in a lusty mood, and the addition of that scent to the seasoned stew attracted some more stallions—along with a certain class of mare—to the line.
Sparkler said, "No charge for you, Doc!"
"Why doesn't he have to pay?" snapped the next pony in line, Strawberry Sunrise.
"Because he used his time machine to make my wrong answers on the history test correct," Sparkler replied. "The teacher was pissed, but had to give me an 'A'."
"Don't say pissed," Dinky chided. "Say mega-tinkled."
Strawberry closed her eyes and sighed.
The Doctor put a dash of dragon's tears hot sauce on his tacos and took a bite. "Most excellent, Derpy," he said. "Tell me, how was it prepared?"
Derpy blushed even deeper. "Like the Flim-Flam incident."
"Ah." The Doctor nodded, taking another bite and chewing slowly. "Spitroast."
Author's Note
Wait, did I just write a snuff culinary vore feghoot? I think I just wrote a snuff culinary vore feghoot.
Deleted scene (spoilers) and author's notes blog.
Discord log:
atomicclop — Today at x:59 AM
if you wanna be accessory to a war crime... (gdoc link redacted)
(Name Redacted) — Today at y:00 AM
Well, it has been a while. Let's go
atomicclop — Today at y:00 AM
if you need to wait for beer o'clock no one will hold it against you
(Name Redacted) — Today at y:01 AM
I'll give it a stab while sober so I can truly appreciate the atrocity
(Name Redacted) — Today at y:24 AM
Couldn't spot any major issues, aside from the existence of 'snuff culinary vore feghoot'
atomicclop — Today at y:24 AM
I pride myself on well-executing things that should never, ever have been executed
