Princess Pipp Molests the Pippsqueaks and Posts it on her Ponyfans

Princess Pipp Petals, in all her regality and public appeal, lounged luxuriously across a premium silk sheet draped across the back of an imported hoof-made chaise lounge in her private offices at Mane Melody, 12 East Prancing Street, Maretime Bay. She held a lukewarm cup of mint and turmeric tea in one manicured forehoof while the other fidgeted with a white quill plucked from her own downy wing some days ago.

She wasn't much of a quill-and-ink pony in the age of Ponygram, Hooftaps, note apps and video messages—it was just that sometimes the tactile feel of one's own feather scrawling across a page was just the inspiration one needed whilst on the cusp of artist's block. And so it wasn't unusual to find her making short-form, barely-sensible notes when inspiration neglected to simply present itself on polite request.

On such occasions, a few pages of hastily-scrawled hoof-written notes were often enough to invigorate herself into something new. Inspiration for Pipp wasn't hard, per se. It sometimes took a shift in perspective to find.

Today, though, inspiration for her newest video simply would not show itself no matter how hard she tried, and any concept of creativity was wholly drained and depleted; no doubt a direct result of pulling two double shifts at the salon. Frustrated and near complete surrender, she dropped the quill on a page full of disjointed thoughts and bullet points and reached for her laptop instead. Surely she need only to take a short, well-deserved break and come back to her work thereafter. Maybe then she would find inspiration.

The small white and pink laptop with little white feathers on the cover lit up, the screen glowing coldly in the dark of the poorly-lit office--candles usually helped her think, and the usual buzz of the overhead fluorescent lights sometimes gave her a headache--and she went straight for her usual internet haunts.

She scrolled through Ponygram and found it offered nothing interesting in the short interval since she'd checked it last, which admittedly had not been that long. She'd received a few hooftaps from fans, several dozen comments (ugh, bots!), and DM requests respectfully ignored. Not even her usual fellow influencers had posted anything today. Where were the filly four when she needed them for once?

Feeling the fatigue of her creative drought start to fully set in, she started to scroll through other lesser-used socials and found them similarly dry and devoid of anything with the faintest hint of interest to her. Last, only, was Ponyfans.

Ponyfans was simply an ends to a means for Pipp. She didn't relish in it, nor her willing participation in what she could only describe as an entirely different circle of influencers than the usual sort she was involved with. Pipp was greeted by a big, bold "Adults Only" banner, immediately followed by a lascivious display of ponies in various stages of candidness.

Pipp had joined out of a contractual obligation some moons ago, and for a healthy pile of bits, too. It turned out that some of her more adoring fans would pay wing and feather for a snap of even the most innocently framed picture of her hooves, tail and legs. She hadn't minded the attention it gave her either, and truthfully she had carefully read each and every comment left to her, idly daydreaming about the kind of perverted praise some of them willingly bestowed upon her.

As she scrolled through the feed, blushing at some of the intimate shots of ponies she actually knew and wished she hadn't seen, she nearly guffawed at a sudden unscrupulous post that crawled to the top of the page. It was the typical fanfare for Ponyfans; intimately close, tail lifted, rump and full plot exposed to the camera with nothing left hidden or unexposed. Only this one...was a filly! Pipp couldn't put her hoof on where she'd seen this one, but more shocking than the youthfulness of the subject was the sheer volume of engagement it had received. Not even Pipp herself, with her now-infamous beach shoot, had blown up that much.

Pipp started to notice other posts, while sparingly few, hitting similar numbers and how their subjects were equally questionably aged. Then it hit her. She envisioned a long glass tube in her head filling up, bubbling and overflowing with inspiration. Her eyes lit up and she rushed to her phone, plucking it off the floor where it had fallen to the wayside and rolled under the chaise, quickly and with giddy hooves typing out a text.

Pippsqueaks! I have a new video series idea and I desperately need YOU THREE to help me make it! Three videos for three adorable fans! Who wants to be first? Meet me at the back of Mane Melody A.S.A.P.P!!

She hadn't even set her phone down before her phone erupted into sound. She had one new message.

"Hiii Pipp! Seashell here. I'll be right there!!"