Camp Colt

The screen door creaked and shuddered. There was a loud scraping and small jingling of a bell that announced her arrival as it pulled against the wooden floor boards where it didn’t quite match with the incline. The floor had been marred with a semi-circle of scratches, a clear history of abuse from every time somepony had opened and closed this door.

Grunting and wheezing, and Kettle Corn trotted backwards through the entranceway, dragging the suitcase with the strap between her teeth. It was with a huff of hot air through her nose, that she let the tassel drop and straightened her back, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow.

There was a loud chattering as she entered that quickly died down as the small group of ponies present put a bookmark in their conversations to look over at the new arrival—Kettle Corn turned around, putting the suitcase to her back and leaning with her barrel against it as she caught her breath.

From her vantage point, she was in the perfect spot to catch the various glances and pairs of ears that shot her way from across the room—albeit there were only a few fillies present. A pink and berry coloured foal in the back had just ducked out of view through a side-door, what she presumed would be the bathroom, whilst any other foals in the room only looked at her for a few more seconds before turning back to whatever it was that they were doing—some hastily digging through trunks and pulling out feathers and craft supplies, and... tree sap.

Two fillies in particular caught her attention though. One was a light blue with a yellow mane and tail and wavy locks that almost made her thing of the fashion models she saw in the Canterlot magazines her mother bought. The other one was a more unassuming pinkish filly, with a white and grey mane.

They were both clearly in the middle of something, as they had taken up positions at the foot of either of their bunk beds, and were wrapped in hushed whispers and giggles, before she caught a glimpse of one of them looking her way.

The yellow filly on the left joined her friend at glancing at Kettle, then she waved, gesturing for her to approach.

Kettle Corn almost did a double-take. She glanced behind her, just to check that they weren’t talking about somepony else, but only found herself and her suitcase—which she promptly gave a tug and then kicked aside so it wasn’t blocking the door.

She then pressed a hoof to her chest, miming “Me?”

The yellow filly laughed and nodded, then waved her hoof, calling Kettle over. “Get over here and say ‘hi’, silly!”

Kettle swallowed the lump in her throat and tried her best to put on a sincere smile—unfortunately the result was to only make her feel all the more awkward as she shouted back, her voice crackling as a tensing of her flank muscles just then decided to make her voice hitch. “O-Okay!”

The blue filly cocked her head, looking at Kettle Corn with an odd inquisitive frown as she trotted between them, then, glancing at the nearest of the two—Kettle got a motion from the yellow filly to join her on her side.

“Hey, aren’t you that filly who’s friends with Campmaster Scootaloo!?” the blue one asked.

Kettle slid her butt onto the bed and almost immediately sank into the soft down. It felt like it was made of feathers, almost, but even worse the pressure from the soft duvet was tickling her under her tail, causing her to squirm as she tried to keep it from pressing into her more sensitive regions. She couldn’t help but wince as she rasped. “Wh—Where did you—”

The yellow filly gasped in her ear, causing Kettle Corn to jump. “Oh my Celestia!” There was a sparkle in her eyes as she leaned forward to get in closer to Kettle, who held a hoof to try and protect her personal space. “Is that true?” the yellow pony whispered.

“N-No!” Kettle Corn blurted. “Of course not!” Where did they then even get this idea? She’d barely even spoken to Scootaloo once!

“But we saw you on the bus, Everypony did!” the other foal retorted—to which the one next to Kettle Corn nodded and said, “Yeah, and we heard from Lemon Crunch that Scootaloo said she liked you!”

“I heard she said you were awesome.”

“And she called you ‘squirt’!”

“Well—yes, but...” Kettle Corn whined, trying to catch up with the deluge of rumours. She frowned. “She did call me ‘squirt’, but, like”—

“I heard she only calls ponies squirt if she—” The blue filly nudged across the isle in their direction, waggling here eyebrows in a suggestive manner.

This all only made Kettle Corn cheeks flush as she gasped— “N-No! I barely know her! I swear!”

“Suuuure you do...”

“Really!” Her voice was starting to break as she encroached on the Sweetie Belle barrier. “I’ve never met her! I was as surprised as Everypony else! How was I supposed to know that...she liked... scooters...” The absurdity of the statement only hit the moment after the sentence had left her mouth.

Kettle Corn was left with no other course of action but to facehoof and groan.

Both other fillies then broke out into laughter and giggles, the yellow one holding her sides as she wheezed. “Aaahaaa—She’s just messing with you,” she said, nudging a mortified Kettle Corn in the side.

“Don’t mind her.”—she thumbed a hoof across the aisle, all the while giving Kettle Corn a reassuring, swaggering smirk. “Sweet Pop here just wants to use you to get to Scootaloo.”

“Nuh uh!” Sweet Pop shouted. All semblance of her previous demeanour gone; her face contorted into a gigantic frown. “You were doing it too!”

“Yu-huh!” The blue filly stuck out her tongue, slapping the hoof away, eliciting a small giggle on Kettle Corn’s part. “You were just telling me how that was your plan!”

Sweet Pop puffed out her cheeks and went silent for a moment, simmering as she crossed her hooves. Kettle Corn wasn’t sure what to say, but no sooner had she opened her mouth to take a breath, and the other filly stuck out her tongue and blown a raspberry. She pushed back her bangs and giggled. “It’s true. Scootaloo is best pony.”

This only caused Kettle Corn to double over in laughter as the other filly continued to make faces, added to by the foal next to her that was laughing just as much if not harder. “Aaaa-haaaa-h-haaaa.... It’s—hah—all cool,” she said, taking a deep breath to stop herself from going into another giggle fit. “We’re all blank flanks. Can’t be and not be massive Crusaders fans, am-I-right?”

“Hehe—” Kettle’s cheeks burned red as she blushed and snickered. “Y-Yeah, I guess it’s true...”

She held out a hoof to Kettle Corn, smirking and looking as cool as she did. “Name’s Poppy Seed, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, um. Hi” Kettle clasped the hoof and gave it a shake. “I’m Kettle Corn. So, uh...” She glanced around the cabin, taking note of the lack of other fillies—There wasn’t a lack of luggage, but most of the beds looked either vacant or empty, as whoever had claimed them must be outside somewhere else.

She looked back to Poppy. “How’d you find out about this camp?”

Poppy Seed hopped on the spot, emitting a short “Oh.” She glanced around herself, before flopping with her back on the bed beside Kettle Corn. “You know...” she said, rotating her hoof in the air nonchalantly. “Parents found out about it and thought ‘hey, Poppy could sure use some help finding her mark’, and now I’m here.”

Sweet Pop affirmed with a nod. “Mm.”

“Oh, so you...” Kettle’s brow furrowed. “...don’t actually want to be here?”

“What?” Poppy Seed laughed. “Oh, no, no, no!” She hopped back up to her hooves and trotted in place, before doing a circle and sitting like a cat on the base of the bed. Kettle Corn’s ears flicked, but her eyes remained glued to the odd filly. “This place is great! It’s not this place, it’s just...” She thought for a moment. “I didn’t need help finding my mark”—

Kettle Corn’s eyes almost immediately darted to the filly’s flank—she’d barely realised she was checking until after the fact, and it was all Kettle could do to keep from blushing as she realised this. “But—”

“Yeah, I get it, I know,” Poppy had obviously noticed. She rolled her eyes, looking down at Kettle corn smugly. “But the thing is,” she said, “being a blank flank is awesome! You get to try all kinds of different things, experiment, play around with what you like, and you know—live a little, before you’re forced to—”

She stopped suddenly, her nose scrunching and she sniffed.

Kettle Corn frowned. “Before you what?”

Sweet Pop squeaked, and Kettle Corn glanced over to her side to see the filly was blushing. She was holding her hooves over her nose as she looked left and right, obviously finding something weird. “Wh-What’s that smell?” she said.

Kettle Corn’s heart stopped—the whole room suddenly felt a whole lot smaller as she realised something—She’d totally forgotten, and now that she was made aware of it, she could feel the bed’s covers rubbing directly against her delicate bits. What’s more, she’d been rubbing her thighs together without realising it, something she immediately halted as she became aware of her own smell.

Kettle Corn and Poppy seed both glanced to the filly, but then her mortification grew and Poppy’s eyes slowly settled on her moments before her nose scrunched and, and Kettle heard the filly sniffing.

“Wh-” Kettle’s brow was beading with sweat as she leaned away from the two, trying without giving away that there was anything wrong. M-Maybe they’ll think it’s just from the h—Hot weather? “What?” Kettle asked. “What is it?”

Poppy Seed leaned over and gave Kettle Corn a long sniff, running her nose all the way up the back of her head and between her ears—The intimate touch caused Kettle’s cheeks to flush red, and that wasn’t the only thing that started to flush. “Oh my—” Poppy stated, rather matter-of-factly. “Are you in heat!”

“Wh-What—” Kettle Corn blanched. The blood ran from her face as her deepest fears materialised before her. She stumbled and almost fell off the edge of the bed as she scrambled to her hooves, stammering to try and cover herself up—From where she’d been sitting on the edge of the bed left her tail pinned upwards, and now the wet hairs had stuck to her fur, making it ineffective at hiding her shame as she peeled herself off the duvet.

Glancing back, she immediately noticed the slightly darker spot on the bed from where she’d just been sitting, but she hoped beyond hope that nopony would have noticed it yet, if ever. She whispered, wheezed, and shouted, whatever noise she could to come out, all the while trying to ignore the sticky sensation coating her thighs. “N-n-Am not!” she stammered.

“Are too!” Poppy Seed shouted back with a shit-smacking grin.

The other filly, Sweet Pop pointed. “Oh my Celestia,” she said, “she is!” She was grinning and Kettle Corn’s blush only deepened as she started to back away from the two. “Look at how red she’s getting!”

“S-s-s-stop it!” Kettle Corn shouted. “I am not!” Her behind rammed into the wooden frame of the bed in the next row over, sending a shock through her spine and a sudden, involuntary, jolt of pleasure through her underside as she felt the hard wood press into her marehood. The reaction was involuntary, and entirely outside of her control—She had to clap a hoof over her mouth to stop the moan from escaping her lips. “Oooh—Mmmmf!”

“Oh now there is no denying it!” Poppy Seed shouted, almost giving an implicit ‘aha!’ in her words. Waggling her eyebrows, she sauntered towards Kettle Corn, who tried to back away, but only found herself skewered between the bedframe and this other foal’s body.

“A-a-am not,” she said, in mock defence, biting her lip and crossing her hooves.

Sweet Pop had a grin across her face as she leaned forward, inches from Kettle Corn’s own nose as she spoke in a hushed tone, almost enticingly so. “Hey,” she whispered into Kettle Corn’s ear. “You know what’s the perfect cure for a strong heat?”

This caused Kettle Corn’s ears to perk. Dropping all pretence of being upset, she looked back at the filly beside her with wide eyes. “Wh-What?”

“That got her attention.” Sweet Pop commented from her position. She dropped back onto her haunches, letting her hind legs hang off the side of the bed, snickering as she did so.

Ignoring the other filly, Kettle whispered, almost too afraid to admit she needed it. This gosh darned heat was absolutely killing her—“Y-You know something that can help?”

“Mhm.” Poppy Seed nodded. “The best way to take care of a strong heat is to...” There was a thumping at the door, followed by the creaking of wood and the jangling of the bell.

They paused momentarily and Poppy Seed glanced to the door as one of the camp masters arrived.

Sweetie Belle stuck her head in with a clipboard floating in a green aura. She looked across the cabin before her eyes landed on Kettle and her friends. “Hey, girls, have any of you seen a filly by the name of...” Levitating a pair of sewing glasses from her hammer-space, she squinted through them at the clipboard. “...Lemon Squeeze?”

They all shook their heads and Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes. “I swear to Celestia, if that filly doesn’t show up soon, I’m going to...” The door slammed behind her and her voice faded away with the trotting of her hooves, followed by a steady clomp, clomp, clomp growing more distant as she descended the front steps.

When the last of the hoof falls had sounded, and they could only barely hear Sweetie cursing to the skies in the distance, Poppy Seed’s toothy grin returned. She grabbed Kettle Corn with a hoof on either side of the head and looked her straight in the eyes as she repeated. slow and steady, and in a hushed whisper, she said: “Best way to take care of a strong heat is to...get fucked.”

Kettle Corn and Lemon Squeeze gasped.

There was a momentary pause in which both Kettle and Poppy both looked at the yellow and white filly that had appeared between them. Lemon Squeeze’s ears twitched and she blinked, then something clicked because she squeaked suddenly—“Oh, fuck!”—and she bolted out the door.

Kettle Corn blinked, watching as Lemon Squeeze squeezed out the front door—the loud jingling of the bell the only sound in the room as her head whipped back to Poppy Seed. The filly was grinning as Kettle Corn then asked: “Y-You mean...” She felt her stomach twist a little, excitement bubbling up inside as she said the word. “B-By a colt?”

Poppy Seed smirked and rolled her eyes. “Uh duh!” she shouted—then grabbing Kettle Corn by the hoof, dragging the foal across the cabin towards the nearest open window. There was a stack of drawers with boxes on it in the way, that she promptly shoved off as she brought Kettle Corn up to the window and shot her gaze out over the campground.

“Hey!” Sweet Pop shouted, “That was mine!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Poppy Seed waved her back without pulling her eyes away from the window. “We’ll put it back in a second, just me... Aha!” She waved frantically, gesturing for Kettle Corn to get up onto her hind hooves and join her in looking out the window. “All we need is the perfect colt to get fucked by, and I think I see the perfect candidate.”

Poppy Seed’s grin was getting frightening and as Kettle Corn pulled herself up against the chest of drawers to look over the ledge, she frowned, and looked at Poppy Seed for confirmation. She whispered, “You mean Skeedaddle?”

Poppy Seed gasped. Her eyes went wide as she glanced at Kettle Corn. “Wait,” she said, “you already know his name!?”

“Y-Yeah—”

“It’s perfect!” Her voice cracked the sweetie barrier as she practically turned into a dog whistle. “Now you have to fuck him!”

“I—I don’t know about this...” Backing away from the window, Kettle Corn let herself drop back to all fours. She glanced to the other filly—Sweet Pop—for guidance.

Sweet Pop merely shrugged. “I gotta agree with Poppy,” she said, “It can’t be any more perfect than this.”
Poppy Seed grabbed Kettle Corn by the shoulders and pulled her into a sideways hug. Her smirk had turned into a full-blown grin as she waggled her eyebrows. “Trust me,” she said, “My mom’s a doctor. You’re going to love it.”

Before Kettle Corn could say anything more, they were interrupted by a bell ringing and a western twang screeched out an announcement over the camp’s intercom:

Attention, Cutie Mark Campers! Report to the flagpole for yer first event of the day, Archery—The three of them exchanged glances and raised eyebrows as loud shuffling of papers could be heard over the static, followed by a high-pitched screech that almost busted their eardrums as somepony Sweetie Belle took over the microphone. AND WILL LEMON SQUEEZE PLEASE REPORT TO THE OFFICE. NOW.

They all winced at the sound of the microphone being slammed down.

Kettle Corn breathed a sigh of relief at being able to get out of there—but before she could go, she was held back by a hoof on her shoulder and whisper in her ear. “Don’t forget what we said,” Poppy whispered and licked her ear, causing Kettle Corn to stiffen.

A tremor ran up her spine—not just from the unexpected contact, but from the sudden release of tension she felt bellow her.

There was a splatter as small droplets of her pent-up arousal hit the floor, and Sweet Pop giggled as she passed. “Oh, stop teasing her already.”

“Alright, okay, okay!” Poppy Seed shouted, and tittered, then set off after Sweet Pop, leaving Kettle Corn alone.

Kettle Corn breathed in, letting the heat in her cheeks settle.

She inhaled, then on the exhale sighed. “O-Okay...” Smiling, she raised her tail, then thought better and clamped it between her legs. The shower would have to wait, as she heard other fillies and colts already shuffling past outside towards the meeting area. “I can do this.”