PrologueView OnlineHeat SeasonPrologueAuthor's Note Probably should have published this before the actual first chapter, eh? Oh well. Prologue *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* “Mommy? What is the princess doing?” “Hmm? Oh, ah... well, it looks like princess Twilight is, er... you know what? Let’s not bother her.” *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* “Poor thing. Do you think she’s alright?” “Ehh... probably? I think that’s just Twilight being Twilight.” “She’s always kind of been a bit odd, hasn’t she?” *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* “Twenty bits says she’s cracking under the whip.” “What whip? It wasn’t that long ago she was coronated.” *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* Equestria’s newest oddball princess couldn’t be bothered to respond, or indeed, even register the comments taking place, being far too busy in the rather involved process of turning her royal brains into mush. *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* An enterprise which, admittedly, she didn’t pursue in the most efficient manner, opting instead for the rather crude and low-tech method of repeatedly bashing her face against a gnarled old stump that had been sitting in the park for as long as anypony could remember. *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* But the icy grip of despair filled her little pony heart as she realized, with no small amount of dismay, the old stump steadily deformed and buckled under her assault, poised to give way long before the sweet embrace of death could claim her. Stupid alicorn durability... *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* Even worse, the contents of that letter remained fresh in her mind, and for the very first time in her young life did Twilight Sparkle curse her prodigious memory and the blighted events that saw her become Equestria’s newest princess. Dear Princess Twilight, I hope this letter finds you in good spirits today, for I am sorry to say, I must regretfully be the bearer of bad news. Your ascension to alicornhood, while a joyous and momentous occasion, will also bring a certain number of difficulties in your life. We can get more into detail as to what these difficulties are as the years pass and your power develops, but the most immediate concern for you will soon come. It is an issue I’m sure you and your friends are all too familiar with. A period in time that takes place shortly after the Summer Sun Celebration, that shall leave you girls... yearning for a stallion’s warmth. I am speaking of course about estrus. In ascending to alicornhood, your body underwent certain transformations, some of which you have undoubtedly been made aware of. Most notably are your wings, and though you are not yet privy to a pegasus’ full array of abilities, you will, in time, develop these gifts. You may have also noticed an improvement in your endurance, strength and constitution—blessings trademarked by the noble earth ponies. These gifts come at a cost, however. To better accommodate and develop the traits of all three pony tribes, your body will undergo internal changes. The most immediate of these being an influx of hormones crucial to maintaining and developing your new abilities. I believe you understand where I’m going with this? This coming estrus cycle will be unlike any you’ve experienced before. Your body will be filled with up to four times the normal amount of estrogen, making an already trying time an even greater burden to bear, and although I’d much rather not cause you any undue distress, I also believe it is important you know exactly what it is you’ll be facing, that you may take the appropriate measures to address this problem. Your body will feel as though on fire. The burning need for a stallion will escalate into what I can only describe as a gnawing, ravenous hunger, which will continuously claw at your brain and marehood, clamoring for relief. Your magnificent mind that you hold in such high regard will be consumed by the estrus cycle, devoting its faculties in slavish obedience to the singular goal of seeking out a stallion to breed. Your young body is unaccustomed to the deluge of hormones that will flood within, and, should things get bad enough—should you deny yourself the release you so desperately crave, you may well find that your body and mind act in a will of their own to achieve completion. As I see it, there are three solutions available to you, should you choose to employ them. You could go and seek out a stallion to help sate your urges. Be warned, however, that you will find release harder to achieve this time around and will likely need several... sessions to sate your needs. Naturally, you are guaranteed to bear a foal with this approach. Secondly, there is a certain tonic you could drink. Making it is a rather involved process only achievable by master alchemists. I could have them brew you up a few doses, should you wish to pursue this route. It will quell the searing urges of estrus to a much more manageable level. That being said, the tonic itself is not perfect. It can be rather... temperamental. And while you will undoubtedly notice a marked improvement by drinking it, there is also a teeny, tiny, but not infinitesimal chance it will cause irreversible damage to your higher brain functions, effectively leaving you mentally invalid. I would not recommend this approach. Thirdly, you could branch out and seek non-pony partners to mate with. It’s how Luna and I beat back the worst of our first estrus as alicorns, after all. It just so happened to coincide with the Great Dragon Migration and... well, nevermind that. Still, I believe it’s the best option out of all three. I’m sure as the Princess of Friendship, you’ll have little difficulty in finding and befriending a willing partner. Whatever decision you make, know you will have my full support. And knowing you, my dear student, you will be—as the young fillies say— ‘freaking the hay out’ by these revelations. Work on your breathing exercises, as Cadence taught you, and I’m sure you will find the answer soon enough. You may even find it to be much, much closer than you initially hoped. Good luck and remember, safety first. Your proud teacher, Princess Celestia. Why did she do it? Why did she read Celestia’s correspondence over and over to the point she could recite the contents by heart? It would do her no good. It would not change the events that would soon come. And it certainly... *THUNK* Did. *THUNK* Her mental state. *THUNK* No. *THUNK* Bucking. *THUNK* Favors! *SMACK* “Huh?” For the first time did Twilight notice a peculiar warmth on her forehead, nothing at all like the stinging bite she’d steadily cultivated for the last... how long had she been doing this again? “Penny for your thoughts?” She opened her eyes and saw a fleshy, five-fingered limb move out of sight, taking the strangely comforting warmth with it. With sullen resignation, Twilight turned to the source of the voice, her gaze travelling upwards to land on the peculiar shape of Equestria’s resident human. His visage shifted, as though unsure whether to regard the oddball alicorn’s antics with amusement or concern. “Who for my what, now?” Perhaps she’d done a better brain busting job than she initially thought, as the words slurred out of her. “Ah... nevermind. Just a saying from back home.” Twilight blinked repeatedly as her eyes adjusted to the bright midday sun. She could now take in Anonymous’ form better. He looked down at her with a slight tilt of his head. In his free hand he gripped the stick of a glistening popsicle from which he promptly took a bite of. Twilight watched as he swallowed, her eyes following the movement of his throat as... Her jaw went slack as she realized the human’s top half was completely stripped of clothes, bare for all to see. A pair of stretchy shorts protected his lower half, stopping just above the knees, while a pair of well-worn sneakers covered his feet. She’d never seen him with so few clothes before. His tanned skin shone with perspiration. She could see hints of muscle beneath the taut skin as he breathed, outlining a completely novel physique. “So... everything okay?” Twilight jerked. Her ears folded back as she bashfully looked Anonymous in the eye. “Y-yes, yes!” She looked away. Her wings ruffled without her noticing. “Sorry, I’m just... I’m a bit of a mess right now, huh?” Anonymous grinned. “That makes two of us.” He bit down on the popsicle again, savoring the fruity taste before swallowing. “Wish I’d checked the weather report before going out on a run. I’m dying for a shower,” he said, sighing. “By the way, you got a little, uh...” He motioned vaguely at her forehead. Twilight raised a hoof to try and work out the little bits of bark that stuck to her mane, with underwhelming results. “Let me help you with that.” Before she could protest, Anonymous bit off the last of the popsicle and kneeled before her. Twilight froze as her nose was assaulted by a deluge of pheromones. He... he smelled... good! Her traitorous body inhaled, breathing in his natural musk, and a heat that had nothing to do with the harsh sun welled up in her cheeks. Anonymous’ digits worked with deft precision, plucking the bits of bark from her mane. Twilight’s eye twitched as his nails unintentionally scratched her during his ministrations, sending shivers of pure bliss coursing down her body. Her breath came erratic in short, almost panicky bursts. Sweet Celestia, she could stay like this for hours! “Done!” “Huh?” Anonymous rose back up to his full height, regarding the smaller mare with satisfaction. Twilight shook her head to ward off the haze that all but paralyzed her. Anonymous fidgeted as the silence stretched. “So,” he said, clearing his throat. “What’s eating you?” Twilight’s brow creased into a slight frown. “Excuse me?” “Right, right. Idioms...” Anonymous muttered to himself. “You, uh, look out of sorts, princess. Is everything okay?” “Just Twilight,” she said tiredly. “And you...” she peered at him past slightly narrowed eyes. “You... actually want to know?” “Yes.” “Really?” “Really.” “Oh.” Now this was news to her. She and Anonymous didn’t start off on the best hoof—admittedly due in part(okay, mostly) to her, and the human made it a point to keep a healthy distance between them ever since. Especially after that debacle. “Look,” Anonymous said, rubbing at the back of his head. “I know we didn’t make the best impression when we first met.” Twilight had the grace to look abashed. “And I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this for some time now, but...” He sighed and shook his head. “It's... y'know, time to face reality and all that. Way things are going I'll be sticking around for a very, very... very long time. And technically speaking, you are my princess now, so...” He kneeled before her and held out a fist. “What do you say we start over?” “Anonymous,” Twilight said and, smiling, met his fist with her own hoof. “I’d like that very much.” “Sweet,” he said with a smile of his own and sat down. “Gotta say, I’ve never been friends with a princess before.” Twilight raised an eyebrow. “Oh? We’re friends now?” He shrugged. “Well, you are the Princess of Friendship. I’d say it’s a package deal.” Twilight couldn’t hold back a very un-princesslike snort. “Funny. But take it from me, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” Anonymous nodded sagely. “That why you had ol’ Stumpy here getting all kinds of acquainted with your face?” He said, jerking his head to its tattered remains. “Maybe,” Twilight muttered. “It’s... well... my first major test as an alicorn is coming up.” “And it’s bad?” Twilight grimaced. “Bad? I wish it were bad. Bad doesn’t even begin to describe it. It’s not just bad, it’s... it’s... it’s unprecedented. It’s catastrophic. No. It’s downright apocalyptic!” Anonymous nodded. “Super bad. Got it.” Twilight’s eye twitched in a most horrendous fashion. Anonymous coughed. “So... would you like some help?” “That’s... I don’t... what?” “Your test. Granted, I’m not sure what an alicorn test even means, or if I could even do anything. Still, would you like some help with it?” Twilight looked away, her cheeks blazing. “Anonymous! That’s... that’s not what I...” Her mind crashed down faster than Rainbow Dash at a cider tasting. She turned her head back to Anonymous with such speed she was pretty sure she gave herself whiplash, looking the human up and down, her eyes popping as the pieces finally fell in place. “Oh! Ohhh...” Anonymous regarded her with bemusement and was about to respond when something over her withers caught his eye. "Dang it.” He stood up to his full height, peering at something in the distance. Twilight followed his line of sight to see a number of pegasus ponies pushing several darkening clouds together. “I gotta get to Applejack’s before they get those rain clouds up and going.” He looked back to her with a smile. “I’ll see you around, Twilight. Let’s hang out one of these days, eh?” Without another word he began to jog, making a beeline for Sweet Apple Acres. Twilight’s eyes drifted down his retreating form. She gulped. Even the stretchy fabric of his shorts could not conceal the sizable bouncing mounds within. With a shaky hoof, Twilight wiped the beads of sweat that had accumulated on her brow and started her own journey back to the library with a steady gallop. Her mind raced, teeming with possibilities and the outlines of a plan began to form. It would be her masterpiece. Her magnum opus. But such an undertaking would be far beyond her abilities. She would need her friends’ help for this, for was she not a princess now? Indeed, her very future would decide the fate of many, making it of the utmost importance for her to come out of the looming estrus cycle with her full mental capabilities. It would not be a stretch to say that Ponyville, nay, the very future of Equestria itself hung in the balance! So consumed with her incipient schemes, the Princess of Friendship failed to notice her marehood dripping with excitement, leaving a trail for any who cared to look as she raced back home to iron out and finalize the details of her plan. She would need to then gather her friends, that they may join her in what was sure to be the most important mission of their young lives.
Operation: HeatsinkView OnlineHeat SeasonOperation: HeatsinkSomething has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.
What's a Riding Crop?View OnlineHeat SeasonWhat's a Riding Crop?“In conclusion,” Twilight said, using her implement to hit the chalkboard with a satisfying *THWACK*. “Using the data and insight we’ve gathered last night, the next logical step is for Rarity and Rainbow Dash to take the lead in the first phase of this operation.” She looked to said mares, who stared back with the most peculiar of expressions, their eyes following Twilight’s implement. Come to think of it, the other girls did too. Twilight did not allow this to break her stride and so she continued her instructions. “Seeing as you two girls have a better rapport with Anonymous, you’ll be in a stronger position to determine the effectiveness of our strategies.” “So,” Twilight said, looking expectantly at her friends. “Any questions?” The girls’ eyes merely followed her implement. Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, darling.” She pointed a hoof. “That’s a riding crop.” Twilight gave it a cursory look. “Is that what it’s called? Well, thanks for gifting it to me, Rarity. It’s incredibly satisfying to use.” She punctuated this by slapping it across the chalkboard, with a resounding *THWACK* as her reward. “...Yes. And I’m glad you like it, darling,” Rarity said delicately. “But... how shall I put this? Ahh. Do you... know how to use it?” Twilight shrugged. “Seems simple enough.” She slapped the chalkboard again. From beside her, Rarity could just about hear Rainbow’s poor attempts at hiding her laughter. “Yes, well. How shall I put this?” She looked to Applejack for support, but the farmpony merely closed her eyes and shook her head solemnly. “You see, darling, that little tool you have there... well... it’s for extracurricular activities.” At Twilight’s blank look, Rarity repressed a sigh. “It’s a... marital aide.” Twilight cocked her head in confusion, but then a look of realization dawned on her face. “Ohhh. You mean like when you or your special somepony want to make a quick presentation at breakfast? Or before bed?” Rarity’s hoof met her face with an audible smack. Rainbow lost what little restraint she had and fell on her back, hind legs kicking the air as she let loose a coarse, full-bellied laugh. Applejack held her hat to her chest, fixing the befuddled alicorn with a look between compassion and despair. “What’s so funny?” Twilight demanded, heat rising in her cheeks. “Ehh,” Rarity groaned before once again turning to Applejack for help. She merely shook her head and said, “I’m not taking this one.” Rarity then turned to Rainbow. “Y-you’re on your own,” she said amidst the laughter. Then to Pinkie. “Nnnnope!” In desperation she then turned to Fluttershy, who refused to meet her gaze, instead paying close attention to the steaming cup of tea on her hooves. With a heavy sigh, Rarity trotted with resignation to a baffled Twilight before leaning in and whispering in her ear. The other four mares watched with varying degrees of amusement as Twilight’s mouth opened into a perfect ‘O’, watching as her face and neck steadily grew redder and redder until the not-so-royal princess looked like a large, angry bruise. “And that, young filly,” Rarity said as she put a hoof on Twilight’s withers. “Is how you use a riding crop.” With that she retreated back to the large floor cushion she’d been resting on, refilled her cup with a nearby teapot and raised it to her lips before draining the scalding contents in one gulp. Twilight’s eyes turned to pinpricks, darting everywhere and nowhere as she assiduously avoided looking directly at her friends. “Speaking of, Twi,” Applejack said. “I know Applebloom and her friends like to come to you for help every now and then.” Her eyes narrowed. “I don’t reckon you’ve... eh... used that ‘marital aide’ in your lectures?” Twilight froze. “Indeed.” Rarity sniffed. “I would be very cross if you’ve exposed my darling Sweetie Belle to such things. However unintentionally.” “G-girls, girls,” Twilight said, forcing a smile and a small laugh that came out more as a wheeze. “Of course I wouldn’t do something like that,” she said, even as her mind frantically worked to determine the best way to bribe or coerce said fillies into silence. Rarity and Applejack were not impressed. “Hehe...” a nervous Twilight chuckled as she levitated a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her temple. “Is it hot in here, or is it just me?” Her friends were unmoved. “You know, I think we deserve a break,” she said desperately, throwing the ‘marital aide’ where it got lost amidst a pile of books. “Who’s up for lunch?” Author's Note Next chapter should be considerably longer.
First ImpressionsView OnlineHeat SeasonFirst ImpressionsIt happened not that long after Anonymous first settled in Ponyville. She'd been invited by Rarity and Fluttershy to their weekly spa visits. Rainbow Dash declined. Too froo-frooey, she said. Applejack was too busy, being in the middle of harvest season. And Pinkie Pie was... well, Pinkie Pie. Twilight sighed as she lowered herself into the hot water. Admittedly, the studious pony never really saw the point at first. She wouldn't consider herself a tomcolt, at this time or ever, but the spa scene never once caught her attention. Too fastidious, too wasteful, she'd think. Why spend an hour or two indulging yourself when you could use that time for more productive endeavors? She wasn't an athlete or a laborer, so it's not like she'd built tense muscles that called for massages. A luxurious soaking in the hot tub? Just take a quick shower. Quick and practical. Mud baths? What's even the point? Yet as she felt her muscles loosen and the worries melt away, Twilight would gladly admit she'd been wrong. She'd been so wrong. This was bliss. "Enjoying yourself, darling?" Twilight's eyelids fluttered open to see Rarity. A small, lazy smile adorned her features, eyes half-lidded. Soaking in the relaxation. "Very much so," Twilight replied. "Thanks again, Rarity." She waved a hoof. "Think nothing of it. It's my pleasure to treat you girls." "Is it alright, though?" Fluttershy asked. Her voluminous mane, like the other mares, was wrapped up in a fluffy towel, sitting atop her head in a shape resembling an octopus. "I mean, three Pamper'd Premium Super Deluxe Blowouts? It's kind of expensive." "Really, Fluttershy dear, it's fine," she replied easily. "Things are going rather well at my boutique." "Lots of orders?" Twilight asked. Rarity hummed. "No more than usual this time of year. Rather, an order." "One order?" Twilight asked. "Well, yes. Didn't I..." Rarity trailed off. "Oh. I never told you girls, did I?" "Told us what?" Fluttershy asked. Rarity glanced around to make sure nopony was in earshot, then motioned the girls to come closer. They did so, not hiding the inquisitive look on their faces. "This is all between us, of course. Ah, let the others know if you'd like, but keep it within our little circle, yes?" Fluttershy and Twilight nodded. "You see, girls. It just so happened I received a letter from Princess Celestia not a few days ago." Fluttershy cocked her head and chanced a look at Twilight, who frowned slightly. "The princess?" Twilight said. "But why?" Left unasked was the question of why not simply send the correspondence through Spike. It would certainly be a lot faster. Rarity picked up on this. "You'd have to ask her yourself, I'm afraid. If I were to guess, I'd say she wanted to keep things confidential. It's a bit of a... sensitive matter." Twilight pondered this. What could be sensitive or secretive about a matter involving Rarity? Not that Twilight would disparage her friend, but she did deal entirely in clothes and fashion. Then again, Rarity's name had started to spread out and the mare would occasionally leave Ponyville for a few days to attend an event of some sort. No doubt she used this time to form connections and build a little network for herself. Is it possible she'd been commissioned to make an order for a secretive client? Perhaps a pop star, artist or broadway actor? But why would Celestia get involved unless... "Anonymous?" Twilight said. "You're working on something for Anonymous?" Rarity was impressed. "Right you are, darling. Wouldn't you know it, the poor dear was at a bit of a loss. You see... well, apparently clothes are an absolute necessity for his kind. The hyoomans regard nudity as a major taboo, barring certain circumstances, he says. It's not like us ponies, who for the most part dress up for jobs or special occasions. To them, clothing is a major part of their lifestyles. They simply refuse to live without it." Twilight bit her lip and quelled the maddening urge to snatch a quill and a piece of paper from the reception desk and begin to furiously take notes. Well, that was fine. She could simply rely on her prodigious mind to recall the information. It had never failed her before. "All of this stays between us, of course," Rarity said expectantly. Twilight and Fluttershy nodded. "You see, the princess asked me to commission a wardrobe for Anonymous, and paid a pretty bit for it. She was quite generous, actually. Hence..." she broadly gestured a hoof. "What's he like?" Fluttershy asked. "He's..." Rarity pondered her answer. "I'd say he's pleasant enough. A bit quiet. No surprise, the poor dear is still adjusting to his situation. I mean, can you imagine being pulled away from everything and everypony you know? Still, I've only met him twice now, so I can't make an educated guess." A look of realization dawned on her face. "Ah! And Twilight, there's something you'd be very interested to know." "Yes? What is it?" she said eagerly. "He has a rather peculiar effect on my magic. Or maybe my magic has an effect on him? Regardless," she continued. "Every time I tried to take his measurements, the tape would just... slide off of him. I thought nothing of it, but it happened again and again, so I asked if he wouldn't mind me running a simple test." "And? What did you learn?" "Well, I asked if I could try moving his... his... ah, hands! Yes, I asked if I could move his hands with my magic. He accepted readily enough. I think he was curious about it as well. Anyway, I found it exceedingly tricky to get a proper hold on him. It's like my magic just," she paused. "Well, it was like trying to maintain a solid hoofhold on a slippery river rock. My magic just sort of... slid off of him. It took a great deal of practice and concentration to get the smallest form of leverage." "Fascinating," Twilight muttered, her mind ablaze with theories and possibilities. Ooh, what she wouldn't give to have Anonymous all to herself for a week or two. With his consent, of course. The things she could learn... "'Allo, ladies," Aloe's familiar accent rang across the quiet spa. "I trust everything iz to your liking?" The three mares turned to face the spa's co-owner. "Simply fabulous, Aloe," Rarity said. "You girls do know how to pamper a mare." Twilight and Fluttershy echoed her sentiments. "Most excellent," Aloe said, beaming. "If one of you ladies could follow me, we are ready to begin your massage." "We?" Fluttershy asked. "I thought Lotus was off on Mondays." "Oh but she iz, miss Fluttershy. We 'ave hired a new addition to our spa. I believe you know him, miss Rarity? Ah, ze tall ape man?" Rarity was taken aback. "Anonymous? You hired him?" "Oh yes. Miss Lyra vouched for him. Very insistent she was." A faint tinge of red blossomed in her cheeks. "Ah, we were a bit unsure at first, but he made the hooves-on demonstration. He iz... ah, very skilled." "I imagine he must be," Rarity said, smiling slyly. "He's clearly made an impression on you." Aloe coughed. "Yes. Well. I imagine he will make one on you az well. I believe you will be very satisfied with him." The three mares shared a glance. Coming from Aloe of all ponies, this praise meant something. That said, Rarity couldn't help but notice Fluttershy wasn't too keen on the idea. Not surprising. The shy pegasus had made great strides in shedding the crippling shyness that stunted her for so many years, yet the prospect of spending alone time with an entirely new pony... er, creature, was understandably a daunting prospect. As for Twilight... the young mare was hesitant for a completely different reason. It didn't take a genius to see she'd never spent much time alone with a colt in a personal setting, much less one that she'd constantly been itching to get her hooves on. If only in a detached, scientific manner. Possibly. "Why not?" Rarity said, stepping out the hot tub. "Let's see what this new employee of yours is capable of." Drying herself, she slipped on a fluffy pink bathrobe and followed Aloe to the massage rooms. Fluttershy and Twilight watched her go, the latter angling her neck to try and get a good view of the new masseur. With nothing to do but wait, the two mares contented themselves to enjoy the soak, basking in the hot water. "Twilight?" "Hm?" "Are you feeling better now?" "Well, yes. Why do you ask?" Fluttershy hesitated. "It's just that, Rainbow Dash told me about that experiment of yours. You know, the one for your... urges?" Twilight grimaced. "Oh, that." In a bid to rid herself of the annual period of frustration and unfulfilled needs that came with Heat Season, the ever proactive unicorn set out with the goal to devise a way to ride out the worst of this wave with minimal discomfort. Her solution? A spell. One that would suppress her biological urges. Alas, even her prodigious knowledge and skill in magic could only delay the inevitable, for while she enjoyed three weeks of relative peace, the dam eventually broke, and the delayed onset of estrus hit her with all the subtlety of a speeding freight train. "Oh, my. That sounds unpleasant." "Tell me about it." Twilight muttered. "I'm still not sure how it happened, but my spell somehow magnified the effects of estrus." "Maybe some things should just be allowed to run their course," Fluttershy said. "You're probably right," Twilight sighed. "At least it happened at the tail end of the season." That is to say, with most other mares having rode out Heat Season, the store shelves were stocked with a surplus of anti-heat remedies that Twilight eagerly scooped up at a hefty discount. "Oh, my stars!" The two mares whipped around to the very same doors from where Rarity's voice rang out. "Ooh... yes. Yes!" Twilight and Fluttershy shared a wide-eyed stare. "Don't be shy, darling. I'm not as delicate as I look. Put some muscle into it!" Neither mare spoke as they heard Rarity coo and squeal with delight for the next several minutes. A heat that had nothing to do with the hot water rapidly flushed their cheeks. "Ahh," Rarity sighed as she opened the sliding door, Aloe following behind. Twilight and Fluttershy quickly averted their gaze, doing an admittedly poor job at pretending neither of them heard anything, not that Rarity paid any notice. She trotted in an unsteady gait, her legs wobbly. Her half-lidded eyes were glazed over. "Rarity?" Twilight asked. "Is everything okay? "Okay? Okay?" she mumbled. "Everything is... just right, darling. Why, it was... it was quite..." "Transcendent, non?" Aloe finished with a knowing smile. Rarity gulped. "Quite right, actually. N-no offense, Aloe, dear." Aloe waved a hoof. "Iz fine, miss Rarity. Most important iz you enjoy yourself. You did enjoy yourself, yes?" Rarity chuckled and cast a longing look at the door from whence she came. "To put it lightly. Ah, you don't suppose Anonymous would be willing to... to..." "Regrettably, miss Rarity, your friends are still waiting their turn." Rarity turned to her still blushing friends, yet before she could say anything, Fluttershy spoke up. "Was it really that good?" she asked. Any trace of the reluctance she'd displayed before now gone. "Oh Fluttershy, I can't possibly describe it! Those hands. Those wonderful, magical hands of his." She swooned. "He did this thing with his... and he found this spot on my neck that..." She squealed and cupped her flushed cheeks with her hooves. "Oh, it was marvelous! Simply marvelous!" "O-oh, my," Fluttershy whispered, glancing at the massage rooms. Her wings twitched. "Well, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to try." "Excellent choice, miss Fluttershy," Aloe said brightly. "Come with me, if you please. We'll have ze Anonymous to take care of you." Fluttershy stepped out the bath with a surprising spring in her step, hastily dried herself, donned her bathrobe and followed Aloe to the massage rooms, all to the bemusement of Twilight Sparkle. "Ooh!" Rarity yelped, almost tripping over herself. "Are you okay?" Twilight asked, edging for the rim of the tub. Rarity hastily waved a hoof. "Y-yes, darling. I'm alright. It's just..." she spared a look at the massage rooms. "It was an... intense experience." Twilight noticed the slight trembling in her legs. "Do excuse me, Twilight. I... I need to lay down a bit." She wobbled to a nearby recliner, where she'd normally lay down for a hoof filing and hopped up, sighing as she melted like putty into its embrace. Not two minutes passed before she fell asleep. Her barrel rose and contracted lazily. Twilight couldn't deny she wasn't the least bit intrigued. For a seasoned connoisseur of all things pampered like Rarity to be reduced to such a state... well, she was all but obligated to gather some firsthoof experience on the matter. For research. Her ears perked as they picked up a small yelp, no doubt belonging to Fluttershy. The timid pegasus was not nearly as vocal as Rarity, yet if Twilight strained her ears, she could make out several noises of contentment. Gasps, squeaks and even moans of pleasure sent her imagination into overdrive, renewing the furious blush that all but receded from her cheeks. Truth be told, she was looking forward to this. Sure enough, after what felt like an eternity, the door to the massage tables opened and a dazed Fluttershy stepped out, advancing in unsteady hooves, her cheeks adorned with a healthy blush. "H-hey, Twilight," she stuttered, a serene expression on her face. She unfolded her rather stiff wings and erratically fluttered over to Twilight, who watched with bemusement as her friend reached out with a hoof and bopped her on her muzzle. "Tag, you're it." That's all she said as she let out a breathless giggle and made a beeline for one of the free recliners, all but crashing into it, sighing in contentment. "Are you ready to go, miss Twilight?" Aloe asked, not batting an eye. She nodded and tried her best to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. At long last she had an excuse to meet this so-called visitor who'd taken up residence in Ponyville at the drop of a hat. Truth be told, the news came as a bit of a shock to her. The day in question had been nothing short of routine, and after finishing her breakfast, Twilight set about the business of opening up the library. Tuesdays were a bit of a slow day, so she didn't expect to see many ponies drop by, and so she contented herself by organizing the sizable pile of books that had been returned the two days prior. She found the process itself rather soothing, and no sooner did she finish that Spike popped in to hand her a letter from the princess. Dear Twilight. Hope you're good. Yada yada and so on. She read it with a smile, always pleased to hear from her beloved teacher. But the further she read the more her smile faded, giving way to slack-jawed astonishment. A visitor. That's the word Celestia used. A visitor from... another world? Dimension? Universe? The princess herself could not say for sure, but she did divulge the circumstances by how she became aware of him. As one of Celestia's students in her school for gifted unicorns, Lyra Heartstrings managed to secure a private audience in which she revealed the existence of this visitor to Celestia. Skeptical, but willing to hear out her former student, Celestia allowed the human Anonymous to be brought before her, and the three retreated to a private chamber where they conducted their meeting in secret. Unfortunately, the princess did not see it fit to divulge the details of said meeting, but assured Twilight that, wherever or whenever Anonymous came from, he was not of this world. With no home, options or resources to his name, Celestia allowed Lyra to take him in to her home, given that they'd struck a quick friendship, while she consulted with her sister as well as her scientific and magical advisors to devise a possible way to return Anonymous to his world. To say this development was unprecedented would be nothing short of absurd. It was positively groundbreaking. World shattering, even! Twilight vividly recalled the way her body shook from... excitement? Fear? A bit of both, maybe. She had an alien... an honest to goodness alien sitting at her doorstep. She would gladly close down the library for the day and hurry on over to Lyra's to see if she could get some time alone with this visitor and indeed, that's precisely what she planned to do when a warning from Celestia stopped her in her tracks. Do not attempt to contact him directly. I realize this might be a cruel request to a curious mind like yours, but I must insist you give Anonymous some space. His transition to Equestria was nothing short of jarring and he is understandably overwhelmed at the situation he now finds himself in. Lyra will be his caretaker for the moment, and will do her best to get Anonymous acclimated to Equestrian society. Go to her and ask if she'd be willing to arrange a meeting between the two of you. Barring that, I must once again insist you not take matters into your own hooves. Forgive me if this seems harsh, Twilight, but you and I both know your curiosity and thirst for knowledge can impair your judgment at times, and the matter at hoof requires a more delicate touch. And so she did. It positively pained her to do so, but at Celestia's behest, Twilight reined in her curiosity and did as instructed, maintaining her distance. But now? Now she could get a close-up look at Anonymous proper, without Lyra to thwart her ambitions. In fact, if she were a betting mare, she'd say the minty green unicorn derived a smug sort of satisfaction from denying Twilight's numerous requests. "After you, miss Twilight," Aloe said as she opened the door, motioning her to enter the threshold to the massage room. Twilight gulped and stepped in. The room was dim, the lights reduced to a soft, relaxing amber color. Faint smells tickled her nose; sweet and floral, and there stood Anonymous, his back to her, creasing out the bulges and wrinkles in the sheet that lined the massage bed. He was more imposing when close up, Twilight's head barely reaching past his waist. True to Rarity's assertions, he was clothed from head to hoof. Twilight noted this peculiar habit of his as well, on the times she'd seen him wandering Ponyville at a distance, chalking it up to him wanting to dress up and make a good impression on the ponies that surrounded him. His arms, face and neck were all but devoid of fur. A cosmetic choice, perhaps? Or were his kind prone to baldness in these areas? Satisfied with his work Anonymous turned to greet his newest client. His eyes gave her a quick once over, lingering on the pink strip of her mane. He smiled and said, "Hi there, my name's..." "HELLO!" Twilight shrilled in a high-pitched tone, and immediately regretted it. Anonymous started at the abrupt greeting. Twilight's ears folded back, ducking her head. She'd hoped to come off as friendly and enthusiastic, not so much a madmare. She cleared her throat, fought down the embarrassment as best she could and, in a much more reasonable tone of voice, said, "Hello. My name is Twilight Sparkle." In a stroke of inspiration, she brought her leg up, aiming for a hoof bump. Yep, friendly and casual. Anonymous watched in amusement, but kneeled down to her level regardless. He took her hoof in a surprisingly firm grip and shook it once, twice, three times. "A pleasure, Twilight Sparkle. Name's Anonymous." Twilight smiled. Maybe she hadn't botched this after all. "If you could lie down for us, miss Twilight," Aloe said. "We are ready to begin." She did so, hopping onto the massage table and laid belly down at Aloe's instructions. At her behest, Anonymous went to a nearby table and dipped his hands in a cleaning solution before drying off with a towel. "Anon?" Aloe said. "Would you start us off?" He took a spot next to the giddy Twilight. "I need to tie your mane so I can work proper," he said. Twilight nodded and Anonymous carefully unwrapped the unwieldy towel off her mane, where it spilled out. She closed her eyes, sighing in contentment as he took her mane in his hands. They glided over her scalp in a manner most satisfying, his hands closing as they traveled backward, fashioning it into a quasi-ponytail. Once most of her hair flowed backwards, Anonymous' claw-like digits dug into her scalp and... "Eep!" Twilight jerked, her body seizing up. Anonymous' hands retracted, but he regarded her in an almost playful manner. As if he'd been expecting this sort of reaction. "Everything alright?" Aloe mirrored his reaction. Twilight gave a shaky smile and said, "Yep. All good." She gulped. "Uh... please don't mind me." She rested properly on the table once more, unknowingly holding her breath as she waited for Anonymous to continue. Twilight bit her lip as she felt his digits sink into her scalp, trailing backwards with the intent to untangle any knots. She could not hold back a low, husky groan as those nails of his sent sent waves of pure, absolute bliss coursing down her body. Unbeknownst to her, she'd done a poor job of hiding her reaction, as she trembled from the pleasure alone. But then his hands retreated and Twilight fought down the maddening urge to grab them in her hooves, put them back where they'd been and demand he keep going. In a nice way. Anonymous tied her hair into a serviceable bun before proceeding to the next step of the treatment. "The question, Anon?" Aloe said expectantly. He nodded and said to Twilight, "Are there any problem areas? Spots with tension? Aches, pains? Anything of the sort?" Twilight gulped and did her best to give an even answer. "Just m-my withers. And neck. I... well, I read a lot. Hunching down. You know," she said vaguely. A telltale chime rang across the spa, signaling the arrival of new clients. Aloe looked to the door, frowning slightly. "Why don't you take care of that, Aloe?" Anonymous said. "I'll take care of things here." She hesitated. "I don't know. Your training iz not yet complete." "Rarity seemed to think so," he said. "Come on, I can handle one little massage." Aloe looked to Twilight. "Iz that alright for you, miss Twilight?" She nodded eagerly. "That's fine. I'm sure Anonymous knows what he's doing." Aloe gave a resolute nod. "Very well, Anon. You may tend to miss Twilight in my absence. I expect complete satisfaction from her upon return." She then briskly trotted out the door to greet her new customer, leaving both her charges alone. Anonymous grabbed a bottle from a nearby shelf, squeezing a measured amount of lotion on his hand. "So," he said. "Hands and hooves need a different approach where massage is concerned. Aloe's been showing me the ins and outs and I'm getting a good sense of where the problem spots can be found in a pony's body. Muscle groups, all that jazz." He took his position at the massage table just left of Twilight. "All this to say, I'll do my best to get them to relax. Loosen up. Granted, I don't have much experience with ponies but I can sort of... feel my way around it." Having vigorously rubbed the lotion on his hands, he then placed them onto Twilight, just above her withers. "Any, ah, concerns? Questions before we begin?" Only about a million of them. Well, technically two hundred and ninety six, but who's counting? "No. Whenever you're ready." Yep. All according to plan. She'd use the situation to her advantage and strike a good rapport with Anonymous. Perhaps they could be friends. She'd like that. Even better, having bridged the gap that is Lyra, she could then invite Anonymous to spend some time with her and the girls. Rainbow was surprisingly curious about him. Pinkie Pie too. They could all go out on a nice, relaxing picnic and get to know each other better, and Twilight could at long last ask the question's she'd so wanted to... "Mmmmphh!" The throaty growl manifested before she even had a chance to stop it. Anonymous kneaded her muscles with just enough force. Not so much that he'd hurt her, but not so little it'd be meaningless. "You've built up quite a bit of tension," Anonymous said, frowning slightly as his digits pressed into her neck. Twilight's breathing was ragged, her eyes shut tight, muzzle pressed onto the table as she fought down the undignified squeals and screams of delight that threatened to spill from her lips. Unbeknownst to both of them, her tail hitched with excitement. But the wonderful sensations then stopped. Twilight opened her bleary eyes to see Anonymous opening and clenching his hands. "What is it?" she asked. "It... you had some real tight knots in your neck. Took a lot of effort to work them out." Her ears folded back. "Oh, sorry." He gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't be. It's the job." He squeezed more lotion into his hands and stood in front of her. "Your hoof?" he said, holding out his hand. Twilight placed her hoof upon it and Anonymous resumed his work, starting just above her fetlock and trailing upwards. Twilight sighed in contentment as Anonymous finished and moved onto her other foreleg. She gave an experimental flex on the limb he'd just finished working. Her muscles felt like butter. No wonder her friends had trouble walking. "Rarity's told me about you, you know," Anonymous said. "Good things, I hope." "Among others." Twilight pursed her lips as he kneaded a particularly sensitive spot. "She says you like books." Twilight blushed. "I find them fascinating." "I can understand why. Life experiences, ancient knowledge passed down for generations. A chance to pick at the finest minds of history. Good stuff." Twilight regarded him with renewed interest. "Oh? Are you a bibliophile too?" Anonymous snorted. "I mean, I enjoy a good book now and then, but I wouldn't go that far. I ask because Rarity tells me you're an academic type. Thirst for knowledge, that kind of thing." "Pretty much," she said bashfully. Echoes of laughter, the word 'egghead' being tossed around played in her mind. "Do you ever get the headaches?" At Twilight's confused look, he continued. "Not always headaches, but... you know," he made a vague gesture. "That thing where your brains feel like mush after an intense study session. I used to get them all the time when preparing for a test." "I know them all too well," she grumbled. "They're so inconvenient," she said with a pout. Anonymous nodded, then paused, thinking. "You know," he went to the door and opened it a bit, just enough to allow him to peek outside. "This technically isn't part of the massage process, but would you like to try something new?" He closed the door. "Not sure if you ponies have a way to deal with it, what with hooves and all, but I could try rubbing your temples." "My temples?" He nodded. "Supposedly it helps to relax and open up your blood vessels, allowing better circulation to your brain. Helps to soothe headaches. I could show you if you'd like. That way you can do it yourself." Twilight was intrigued. Such a treatment would be a blessing, if it worked as he said. "Sure. Let's try it." Having been given the go-ahead, Anonymous set to work. Standing in front of her, he cupped her face in his hands. "It's a pretty simple technique," he said, rubbing at her temples with three digits from each hand. Twilight smiled in contentment. So simple, but so comforting. True to her nature, she'd done a bit of 'light reading' this very morning, perusing Ipso Facto's Advanced Guide to the Study of Metaphysics--perhaps for a bit longer than she intended to. The brain fog that often followed these kinds of sessions became so common to the point of mundanity that she barely even noticed it anymore. And yet, as his wonderful fingers worked their magic, Twilight found herself at a bit of a conundrum. The position she was currently in left her face to face with him. So focused in his work, Anonymous failed to notice Twilight's eyes wandering as she drank in his form. A most curious sort of heat blossomed in her cheeks. "S-so, Anonymous," she said, clearing her throat. "How did you come to learn this trick?" "My mom. She used to do it to me whenever I had a headache going on. Or during finals. Not sure if it's a legitimate procedure or one of those things passed down the generations, but it usually helps." Twilight nodded. "Do you like working here?" He shrugged. "Can't complain. Aloe and Lotus are pretty chill. I'm just glad they gave me a chance. I mean, being in a magical pony land is great and all, and Celestia was kind enough to pay my bills, but I've been going mad with boredom. At least now I have something productive to do. And the job has its perks. Get to meet a lot of lovely ponies." "I bet you say that to all the mares, huh?" Anonymous froze for a split second, so fast Twilight thought she must have imagined it. His eyes met hers. His lips quirked into a coy smile. "Only the cute ones." And he winked. Twilight could not hold back the stream of schoolfilly giggles that spilled from her mouth. She pressed a hoof to her lips, though it did little to stem the tide. She produced an undignified, pig-like sound. "And she snorts, too," Anonymous said, grinning. A hoof lightly jabbed at Anonymous. "Enough," Twilight admonished, though the effect was lost amidst her wide smile. "Is that any way to treat your client?" He inclined his head. "But of course, miss Twilight," he said in a parody of Aloe's accent. "Let us get back to your treatment." "Funny," she said dryly, flicking her tail to lightly slap at his arm as Anonymous moved beside her. His hands sank into her withers and Twilight took the opportunity to bury her face in her hooves as she was assaulted by yet another furious blush. I bet you say that to all the mares, huh? Where did that come from? It's the kind of cheesy line she'd seen Rainbow and Pinkie Pie use on a prospective stallion. They're probably rubbing off on me, she thought. And speaking of rubbing off... She bit her hoof in a desperate attempt to quell the various groans and squeals of pleasure as Anonymous got to work on her body. She'd embarrassed herself enough for one day and she'd be damned if she allowed this to continue. Anonymous certainly did nothing to help her situation. Why did his hands have to bring her to near-orgasmic bliss? She could feel the blush in her cheeks spreading all over... ... "Oh, no." Anonymous looked up. "You say something?" "Nope! All fine," she said in a high-pitched voice. Anonymous shrugged and resumed his work. Twilight buried her face in her hooves. Why??? Why is it happening now? The heat that coursed through her was one she knew too well. Estrus. Inspired by a surge of scientific curiosity--some might say foolhardiness--Twilight went back to the drawing board with her botched spell, using what she learned from its failure in the hopes of modifying it to suppress the embers of estrus that still burned within her. She'd had two to four days left in her cycle, as far as she knew, and cast the spell anew in the hopes it would allow her to ride out these days in relative peace. Perhaps even use its supposed success to refine the process. Yet as the spell's matrices gave way, unable to stand indefinitely against the primordial laws that governed nature itself, Twilight came to the only indisputable, irrevocable conclusion. She had made a grave mistake. Anonymous' exotic, masculine scent filled her nostrils. Her tail flagged, giving anypony who might have been standing behind her quite a show. She squirmed, her hinds legs rubbing together--the sensation of a wet something spreading from her marehood. Thank Celestia for the dim lighting, for if anypony were to take a closer look, they'd see a wet patch of moisture on the sheet she lay atop, spreading just under her marehood. Anonymous' hands stopped their ministrations. "Do you..." he sniffed. "Do you smell something?" Twilight wanted to scream. Whether in embarrassment, frustration or lust was anypony's guess. "Huh. Kinda smells like... lavender? It's not bad." *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* Perhaps she could give herself a concussion? Bash her face against the massage table in the hopes unconsciousness would claim her? Yep. That's a good idea. "Hmph?!" Anonymous' digits cupped her chin, lifting her head. "Are you... feeling alright? Even for a pony, you're acting kind of weird." ... "Ah, no offense." Twilight inhaled, savoring his natural musk. He smelled so good. She almost wanted to... to... She licked him, her tongue trailing the length of his hand. Salty. Her body shook with want. "Uhh..." Anonymous said, jerking his hand back. He looked at the spot Twilight licked and back to her, frowning. "Is this some sort of pony gesture I'm too human to... whoa!" Twilight's magical aura tugged at his pants, bringing his crotch and her nose-to-nose, so to speak. Her hooves wrapped around his hips, kneading his firm flanks. She buried her muzzle in the fabric of his pants and breathed deeply. A sound between a moan and a raspy growl resonated in her throat. It wasn't enough. Not nearly enough. Twilight opened her mouth and molded it around his stallionhood. The fabric of his pants was thin enough that she could feel the outlines of a phallic, meaty something stiffening within her mouth and it drove her wild. "Oookay, that's enough." Twilight barely heard the words. She could not, however, ignore the way two hands grabbed at her in the space between her barrel and forelegs and lifted her in the air. She gave a squeak of surprise, her hind legs kicking in reflex as they sought purchase. Anonymous looked more than a bit miffed, and no sooner did he open his mouth with the possible intention of scolding her, when Twilight launched herself at him. A simple propulsion spell, but they collided with enough force to send them both tumbling. "Seriously, what the hell?" Anonymous groaned, his back against the wall, rubbing the back of his head. He froze as he laid eyes on Twilight. The typically cute, cuddly mare now stalked forward like a predator. Her normally immaculate bangs were now scattered loosely down her brow. Her eyes, pinpricks, giving her an almost feral visage. Anonymous gulped as the little mare advanced with surprisingly delicate hoofsteps. She lowered to his crotch, giving it a brief, almost loving nuzzle. But then she looked up and licked her lips. Two hooves pressed upon his chest, pushing back with surprising strength, pinning Anonymous to the wall. Twilight's chest heaved, her mouth open as she took deep breaths, cheeks alight in a radiant blush. She smiled in a way that could only be described as halfway between dopey and predatory. Anonymous watched with dreading astonishment as Twilight closed her eyes and leaned in, her lips puckering for a... "Nnnope!" His hand shot out and grabbed her firmly by the horn. He was not prepared for what came next. Twilight's eyes rolled to the back of her head. Her horn crackled with power and the room--no, the spa itself--shook to its foundations. Her body went stiff, her back arched and her mouth opened to release out a near-deafening cry of ecstasy. And the curtain fell. With all the grace of a plummeting blimp, Twilight's limp body plopped atop Anonymous, wracked by periodic shivers. Anonymous poked her, then again. She did not stir. In fact, and to his indignation, the little mare was soundly asleep, if the soft snores that came from her were any indication. And... Did he piss himself? Well, he'd be well within his rights to! But then again, the warm patch of moisture he undoubtedly felt spreading came not from his crotch, but rather his left leg. The same leg, in fact, that supported Twilight's lower body and... Ohhh. "A-ANONYMOUS?" Fan-fucking-tastic. He saw the appalled faces of Aloe, Fluttershy and Rarity gawking from the opened door. "What iz... why iz she..." Aloe sputtered as she trotted into the room, eyes roving over every... single... detail of his compromised position. "How?" she said almost helplessly. "Like I said, boss," Anonymous smiled, his last recourse lest he fall into the pit of despair. "I took care of her." Author's Note Funny story, I wrote well over 4,000 words for this supposed chapter before deciding it was crap and chucked the whole thing in the bin, relatively speaking. Had to then build this current chapter from the ground up, hence the delay. Still, I'm pretty satisfied with it. Hope it was worth the wait. Also, this chapter takes place nearly two years in the past, being Anon and Twilight's first meeting.
"No. They. Are. Not. Cocks!"View OnlineHeat Season"No. They. Are. Not. Cocks!"Lyra Heartstrings peeked past the threshold that led to the basement of her house, took a deep breath, and, with a voice that shook the nearby framed pictures, bellowed. “Anon! Get your hairless monkey ass up here! You got company!” Her ears remained on the alert for any response on his part, only to receive none. With a sigh, she turned back to face her bemused visitor. “Sorry for that. He’s... kind of a heavy sleeper.” She chanced another look inside the basement. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She promptly descended the stairs, her horn emitting a bright yellow glow to illuminate the way, navigating past empty pizza boxes, random bits of discarded clothing and two small mountains of crumpled-up parchment. Her target lay atop two beds joined together to accommodate his tall frame, snoring away without a care in the world. Lyra propped herself up on her hind legs, using her forehooves to shake the sleeping human. “Up. Up, monkey!” When he, predictably enough, didn’t react, Lyra shook her head and hopped up onto the double bed, then turned around and bucked the sleeping Anon with enough force to send him crashing down onto the hard floor. “Anon? Are you dead?” Lyra said, poking him with a hoof. “Come on, you’re not fooling anypony.” Moving faster than she could react, two lanky arms wrapped around her barrel. With a yelp, Lyra was dragged down to the human’s embrace. “Hey!” Lyra squealed as she squirmed in his grasp. His hand reached up to tousle her mane. “Anon!” she whined, slapping the offending limb away. “I just brushed my mane.” He gave a non-committal grunt. “Are you gonna let me go now?” “Prob’ly not,” he slurred. “All you ponies are so damn cuddly.” He accentuated this by tousling her hair again and hugged her tighter to his chest. Lyra groaned, half in exasperation, half in contentment. She called on her magic to produce a bright flash of light, almost blinding in the dark room. Anonymous hissed in pain, freeing her to cover his eyes. “C’mon, up,” Lyra said again, nudging him with her muzzle. “There’s somepony waiting for you.” “At this hour? Give ‘em the boot. I don’t do walk-ins.” “It’s almost noon,” she said dryly. “And it’s not just anypony. It’s your boss.” To her satisfaction, Anon opened his eyes proper, squinting with suspicion. “Here? Now?” “Yup.” “You’re lying.” “Possibly,” Lyra said smoothly. “But do you really want to take that chance?” Without another word and with a jaunty canter, she made for the stairs. “Hurry up. It’s rude to keep a guest waiting. And clean up your room! It’s like a pigsty in here.” Anonymous sighed and, casting a longing glance at his bed, lightly slapped himself to ward off the remnants of sleep. He stood and fumbled around for a relatively clean shirt and a pair of shorts. He then passed a hand through his hair a number of times in the hopes it might look a tad presentable, cracked his neck and successively trudged up the stairs. He squinted, blinking repeatedly as his eyes adjusted to the natural light that shone past the windows and sure enough, there he saw him—a white coated unicorn stallion in a dapper suit, unphased by the human’s shabby state, and regarding him with a pleasant smile. “Anonymous!” he said in a distinct Canterlot accent. “Jolly good to see you, old boy. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?” “Fancypants?” Anon said slowly. “I... no, um...” He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “What are you doing here?” “Business I’m afraid. You know how it is. Ah, I do apologize for barging in on you so suddenly. It’s not usually the way I’d like to conduct a meeting, but I’m supposed to be taking the train to Las Pegasus and I thought I might drop in. There’s been a development, you see. Well, more of a sudden opportunity and... well, I believe it best we get it sorted out as soon as possible. I hope that’s alright with you?” “Sure. Yeah,” Anon said. Before either could proceed, a series of hoofsteps marked Lyra’s arrival. Her mane once again styled to satisfaction, she used her magic to retrieve a slab of toast with butter and jam from the kitchen, where it hovered beside her. “I’m going out shopping,” she said to Anon. “There’s coffee and donuts in the kitchen, so help yourselves.” She nodded to Fancypants. “It was nice meeting you. Hope everything goes well.” Fancypants inclined his head. “And to you, dear. Thank you for the hospitality.” With her departure, Anon led the way to the modest kitchen. “Coffee?” he asked. “That would be lovely,” Fancypants said as he took a seat at the cozy round table. Anon poured a cup for each of them, setting down a small pitcher of cream and some sugar. Fancypants served himself a generous portion of each and took a sip. “So,” he said. “First order of business. I have a little something for you.” From his suit levitated a folded strip of paper, which he passed to Anonymous. He unfolded it and Fancypants watched as Anon’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead. “A check?” “Indeed.” “But, Fancypants.” He held it up. “I already got paid.” “I know. That, dear boy, is a bonus.” Anon glanced at the amount. “It’s a lot of money.” “Honest pay for honest work, that’s what I say, so trust me when I tell you this, Anonymous. You have earned every single bit of that money.” Anon couldn’t help but smile. “I take it my work did pretty well, then? Still, you didn’t have to come all the way out here for that.” “Normally, yes,” Fancypants admitted. “But you see, dear boy, my publishers were quite impressed with your work. And our audience? They can’t get enough of it! Issues have been flying off the shelves so fast, it’s all we can do to keep up with demand! Our machines and equipment have been burning the midnight oil, or so I’m told, running day and night just to keep our shelves stocked.” “That’s great news,” Anon said. “Quite,” Fancypants agreed. “But herein lies the rub. My associates and I are happy enough to keep you working and making us all a pretty bit as is, but...” He gave Anon a measured look. “Well, it’s about to be that time of year again.” “That time?” Anon parroted. “Yes. Well,” Fancypants cleared his throat. “Heat Season, to be precise.” “Oh.” “You’ve been around a while now. I... assume you know what to expect?” Anonymous shrugged. “I know the broad strokes, but...” he coughed. “I haven’t really looked into... you know.” He made a vague gesture. “The whole thing. All the details.” “Yes, well. The fairer sex does tend to get quite, ah, amorous during this time. What you may not know is that Heat Season also brings a huge demand for a certain genre of literature.” “By certain, you mean—” “Erotica.” “Ah.” Slowly, Anonymous sampled his drink. It needed cream. “So,” he said, pouring a measured amount. “I take it you came here to see if you could convince me to draw...” He took a sip. Much better. “Pony Porn?” “To that effect,” Fancypants said without missing a beat. From his suit levitated yet another folded check, landing in the hands of Anonymous. He gulped upon seeing the number. “Call it an investment,” said Fancypants. “Yours to keep no matter your decision. Of course, I do hope it goes some way to showing you how profitable this venture could be. For all parties involved.” “We’ve talked about this.” “Then let us talk again,” Fancypants said brightly. Anon remained unmoved. “Come now, Anonymous. You’ve been living among us for a while now. I can understand why you’ve had reservations in the past regarding this sort of thing. Different species and all that. But you’ve broken out of your shell. You’ve made friends. That lovely miss Heartstrings seems to hold you in high regard, and I can only assume you’ve... assimilated, for lack of a better word.” “You could say that, yeah,” Anon said slowly. “Any, ah... romantic interests? Have you begun to see our lovely mares in a new light.” Anonymous drained his coffee. “I admit, plenty of mares are easy on the eyes.” “Is there a lucky lady you’ve had your eye on?” Anonymous rolled his eyes. “Let me stop you right there. I really don’t think your average pony wants to get involved with a big, hairless alien like me.” “And that’s where you’re wrong,” Fancypants declared. “I know for a fact that young lady at my front desk... what’s her name again?” “Sky Splitter.” “That’s the one! She’s rather taken with you, you know? Were you to ask her out for a spot of tea, I’m sure she’d be happy to oblige.” “Pity then, we don’t even live in the same city.” Fancypants waved a hoof. “The point stands. You have options here, my boy. Should you take a chance, I’m sure you could meet a lovely mare to call your special somepony. Or stallion, if that’s more your speed.” “First off, I like wom—er, girls. And second of all,” he narrowed his eyes. “Why does it matter to you anyway?” “Am I not allowed to care about a friend’s love life? Or lack thereof?” Fancypants asked innocently. “I am happily married, Anonymous. I won’t pretend it doesn’t have its challenges, but life is so much the richer with somepony by your side. Is that not something you’d like for yourself?” Anonymous’ eyes were fixed on his cup. He shrugged. “Just something to think about, then,” Fancypants said. “But back to business. We are prepared to offer you a generous deal, if I do say so myself.” Sweat began to form on Anon’s brow as he watched Fancypants produce yet another check. “Now this one,” Fancypants said. “Is not real, I’m afraid. Call it a visual aid. The number on it, however, is what we are ready to offer should you accept. And that’s before royalties, I might add.” He watched as Anonymous wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Do you still plan to go through with your ambitions, dear boy?” At Anon’s questioning look, Fancypants elaborated. “The house, Anon. The house you wanted to build for yourself.” “Well, yes,” Anon said. “Not that I don’t like mooching off Lyra and Bonnie, but pony houses aren’t built with humans in mind.” “I would think not,” Fancypants said gravely. “But a custom job? Custom furniture? On a major city at that? I assume you still plan to move from Ponyville should your plans bear fruit?” Anon nodded. “Then you’ll need a sizable investment fund.” He reached out with a hoof and tapped the check which lay flat on the table. “This is opportunity knocking, lad. Your... what is that phrase you used? Ah, your golden ticket! Wouldn’t you say that’s worth trying something new?” “Fancypants,” Anon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not just... look, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I haven’t even... been with a pony. I don’t know how to draw your parts. I don’t know how to sketch or visualize pony porn! O-Or what kinds of positions you guys use. Or your tells, your mannerisms. Your body language during sex.” “All the more reason then,” Fancypants said, smiling. “Why you should go out there and get some hooves-on experience.” He drained the last of his coffee and out his pocket levitated a golden pocket watch. He regarded it for a moment. “Well then! I’ve said my piece and I really shouldn’t take up more of your time. It is money, after all. Tell you what, why don’t you take some time and ruminate on my offer? Think it over. See what it is you really want. You know how to reach me and I’ll expect an answer in two days at the most. “Now it should be said there is a certain time frame for this project, should you choose to take it. Heat Season is not too far off. My publishers will need a finished work before then—something fully realized and ready to print in... shall we say a month from now? I know it’s a bit of a time crunch, but I do believe a talented go-getter like you should make short work of this project." Fancypants bid his goodbye and left, leaving Anonymous to ponder his offer. He couldn't deny it was tempting. Very tempting. He'd made his peace and accepted Equestria as his home, which left him with a bit of a conundrum. What would he do now? He went to college in the hopes of working with computers. AI robotics. Skills that were all but useless now. Four wasted years and thousands of dollars in student loans were a bitter pill to swallow. If nothing else, he wished to be able to carve out a life for himself. Self-sufficiency. Sure, Lyra had been nothing but welcoming and even Bonnie too warmed up to him after some time. Still, he was pretty sure neither of them envisioned housing an interdimensional refugee in their life plans, and though he'd forever be grateful to them opening their home to him, the prospect of having a home to himself and taking control of his life was not something he could dismiss out of hand. That said, it all came down to money. The windfall from Fancypants' commission would go a long way toward his dream. Perhaps even enough to set Anon's very own plans into motion. And all he had to do was... *CRASH* "Sonuva..." So lost in his thoughts, the mug slipped from his hand just as he was making for the sink. After cleaning up the mess, he picked up Fancypants' cup and was in the process of washing it when something caught his eye. From a nearby window he could see Berry Punch trot in the opposite direction, her flank lightly swaying this way and that, the taut muscles in her legs rippling with her movements. Were he to lean out the window and adjust himself at the right angle, he could surely see the delicate prize hidden beneath her... Anonymous shook his head and splashed cold water on his face, hoping to ward off the creeping heat that threatened to rise up. He couldn't deny it at this point. Pony mares were fucking hot. At least his brain seemed to think so. They'd certainly been popping up more and more in his dreams, especially the ones that left a sticky mess after. And if he were interested, how would he even go about it? He couldn't just go out and ask a random mare to follow him back to his bedroom. Well, he could, but it would probably earn him a buck to the nuts. No, no. For this to work, he would need to do his due diligence. He would need to brush up on the laws of attraction. The tells ponies gave when showing interest. Perhaps a smutty novel or two to see what mares like. Nodding to himself, Anonymous knew what he must do. And so he took a shower, brushed his teeth and, after retrieving a package for a certain alicorn princess, made his way to the library. For research! Held in her magical grip, the riding crop listed lazily across the surface of a chalkboard on wheels. Six peculiar shapes were drawn upon its surface—bulbous at the bottom, tapering into a long, tubular shape as it ascended before terminating in a flat top. One purple, one white. Yellow. Orange. Pink. Cyan. Presumably representing each of the bearers of the elements. “If I could direct your attention to these visual aids,” Twilight said. “You’ll notice the percentage numbers next to them.” Such numbers came in four ascending increments. 25. 50. 75. 100. “We will be using them to measure each of our individual progress during Operation: Heatsink and...” she trailed off, not being able to put off the girls’ stares any longer. “Yes?” she asked grudgingly. “Twi,” Applejack said dryly. “That’s still a riding crop.” “Couldn’t you, you know,” Rainbow said. “Use something less kinky. More egghead-y?” “First off, that’s not even a word,” Twilight said. “And secondly, no.” “Not even a ruler?” Rarity asked. Twilight looked away. “I’ve kind of, uhh, worn them out.” Truth be told, the studious princess did indeed have a tool for the job. Or at least, she used to. Ol’ Faithful had been a gift to herself, purchased shortly after her first estrus cycle. Carved from girthy Zebrican ironwood, Ol’ Faithful served as the young pony’s unsung companion for the better part of her adolescent years. A pointer stick polished to perfection, the color of dark mahogany, Ol’ Faithful performed admirably during her many mock lectures to an invisible audience, as well as a nightly companion during the many, many... many lonely nights the young Twilight found herself aching for a stallion’s touch. Alas, during a particularly vigorous session tending to his mistress, Ol’ Faithful gave his last, leaving naught behind save a number of painful splinters and an extremely unsatisfied Twilight. His shattered remains now lay within a modest chest strategically hidden beneath a loose floorboard under the princess’ bed, along with the real Smarty Pants, her foalhood diary and other such items of sentimental value accrued through the years. With his passing, Twilight was then forced to turn to the hooffull of rulers and other such phallic instruments of academia she had lying around in order to sate her needs. But to her dismay and frustration, none of them could hope to match Ol’ Faithful’s performance, nor his fortitude—snapping or crumpling under her ministrations within one or two sessions... sometimes less, leaving her little choice but to use Rarity’s birthday gift for her presentation. Of course, there was also Neighl deGrasse Hayson, her prized telescope, though even Twilight knew better than to use him to satisfy her needs. For one, he was a bit unwieldy. And expensive. She’d saved up two birthdays’ worth of bits to even be able to afford him at a specialty shop in Canterlot, and her rough, magical marehandling would no doubt damage his internal components. Then again, she was a princess now. Perhaps Celestia would be willing to open up the royal coffers a smidge, just enough to buy a smaller model? Or better yet, a replacement for Ol’ Faithful himself? Yes... She’d been crushed to learn the business that sold her Ol’ Faithful had been bought out by none other than Donut Joe. Apparently the scruffy stallion learnt that charging exorbitant prices for mid-tier coffee at best somehow attracted the stuffy Canterlotians to his store, lining up in droves even at the break of dawn to indulge their caffeine dependency. With a newfound hunger and a rebranding of his stores, Joe expanded ruthlessly, successively breaking ground even in the cutthroat Cloud District where he’d swallowed up the very same store that Twilight hoped to pay a visit to replace her fallen companion. In fact, Twilight had received a letter from Donut Joe not that long ago, presenting her with quite a strange offer. He wanted to set up a StarJoe’s location next to, or better yet (his words) inside the library itself, that it may serve as a bizarre sort of place where one could read and sip coffee at their leisure. She’d shot him down immediately, of course. All those sweet, sticky donuts and blended coffees next to her beloved books? It was a disaster waiting to happen and she would never allow hallowed ground to be tainted in such a manner. Then again, he did offer her a generous cut of his earnings. Enough to, say, commission the master craftsbulls from the minotaur tribes to carve a replacement for Ol’ Faithful? It could be made even better, in fact. Hidden within the chest that now housed Ol’ Faithful’s remains, Twilight kept detailed notes—the data gathered through many a night inside the sheets—on the optimal dimensions (length, thickness and girth) the replacement would need to bring her to orgasmic nirvana. Zebrican ironwood, while sturdy and serviceable, clearly did not suit her needs. Taurean adamantwood, on the other hoof... “Helloooo! Equestria to Twilight?” “Huh? What?” Twilight jerked from her musings to see a pink hoof waving before her. “You still with us, hun?” asked Applejack. Clearing her throat, Twilight said, “Y-yes. Yes! Uh...” She glanced back to the chalkboard, then to the riding crop still held in her magical aura. “I understand this is highly irregular. Just... bear with me for now.” Her friends’ attention returned to the chalkboard. “Now I understand this operation has quite a few moving parts—those parts being us. We can then use these visual aids to get a sense of our individual progress in getting close to our target. For example...” An orange piece of chalk was levitated to its corresponding aid. The sound of it scratching upon the board filled the room as the aid was filled from the bottom-up, stopping at the 30% mark. “Let’s take Applejack. We know she and Anonymous meet every so often, specifically during harvest season when he takes the time to go help out on her farm and... yes, Fluttershy?” All eyes turned to the yellow mare, who raised her hoof as if in class. “Isn’t Anon employed over at that big firm in Canterlot? Why is he still going over to work at Sweet Apple Acres?” Applejack answered. “Says he likes it. Likes the fresh air, likes the outdoors. That fancy job o’ his keeps him cooped up all day, so helpin’ out at the farm lets him destress.” She smiled. “Finds it ‘therapeutic’, if y’all believe it.” “Ew,” Rainbow grimaced. “So you’re saying he likes doing farm work for fun?” She shook her head. “Humans are weird.” Applejack scoffed. “He’s a decent, hard-working stallion. Ya’ll could learn a thing or two from him, Ms. Naps-on-the-Clock.” “I’ll learn something, alright,” Dash said with a rakish smirk. “I’ll learn how to make him scream my name once I hit him with my famous ‘Rainbow Rocks Combo’. Eh? Eh?” she said, nudging Pinkie with her elbow. The two snickered in amusement. Rarity rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the two of you are incorrigible,” Twilight cleared her throat. “Yes, well. Moving on... uh, Fluttershy?” She lowered her hoof. “I was wondering.” She pointed to the visual aids. “How exactly do we keep score? How do we get all the way up to a hundred percent?” “Well, I suppose we—” “Ain’t it obvious?” Applejack said. “Whoever gets a tussle in the sheets is the one to win.” All save Twilight let out a collective ‘Ohh’ of realization. “I... wouldn’t say ‘win’ per se, but...” “Wait, wait, wait,” Rarity said to Applejack. “So if sex means we rank up to a hundred percent, what then gets us to fifty percent?” “Isn’t it obvious?” Pinkie said. “A hoofjob!” “I could see that,” Dash agreed, as did the others. “Which clearly means,” Pinkie continued. “A blowjob bumps you up to seventy-five.” Twilight sighed. “So,” Fluttershy said. “How many points is a wingjob worth?” “Easily an eighty-five,” Dash said confidently. “Oh no, you don’t!” Applejack said and jabbed an accusing hoof. “Rainbow Dash, you are not gonna try and give yourself a trumped-up advantage. I won’t allow it!” “Yeah!” Pinkie said. “Everypony knows blowjobs are where it’s at!” "Bold words, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity said. “But I think you girls are forgetting the pièce de résistance. The crème de la crème of foreplay that all stallions are powerless to resist.” Basking in the attention of her friends, Rarity flicked her mane with a dramatic, well-practiced motion. “Behold! The hornjob!” The girls groaned collectively before erupting into a lively debate, with Rarity extolling the virtues of the hornjob, Pinkie and Applejack arguing for blowjob supremacy, while Rainbow and Fluttershy insisted on the wingjob’s superiority. It wasn’t until the five started to make bets on who could make a certain human cum the fastest with their techniques that an increasingly fed-up Twilight had had enough. *THWACK!* “Girls!” *THWACK!* “Girls!” Twilight bellowed. “Can we please remain focused?” Her friends ceased their chattering and turned their attention to her. “Thank you,” she said and stifled a yawn. Dark bags hung prominently beneath her eyes, the result of a particularly productive night of stargazing. “As I was saying, we can use these visual aids to get a sense of our progress. It’s... well, admittedly it’s not a strictly definite method to accurately measure a subjective and oft fluctuating concept like relationships, but it can at least help us get an understanding of where we stand.” “That’s interesting and all,” Applejack said, eyes squinted and a hoof tapping at her chin as she stared at the visual aids with a tilt to her head. “I just wanna know why you used thermometers of all things.” “Actually they’re—” “Thermometers?” Pinkie piped up. “I thought they were cocks.” All eyes turned to the chalkboard. “Wait, they’re not?” Rarity said. *THWACK!* “No!” *THWACK!* “They!” *THWACK!* “Are!” *THWACK!* “Not!” *THWACK!* “Cocks!” Her friends started at her outburst and Twilight closed her eyes, and doing as Cadence taught her, took a deep breath. Happy thoughts. She cleared her throat. “Moving on.” Calling on her magic, Twilight then levitated six pieces of chalk to the visual aids, filling them from the bottom up and stopping at different intervals. “Hey wait!” Rainbow said. “I should be way higher than that!” she said indignantly, jabbing a hoof at the cyan-colored aid, which had been filled roughly to the 20% mark. Twilight gave her a flat look. “Should you, though? Pinkie told me about that little incident at Anon’s place.” A red-faced Rainbow looked like she’d sucked on a lemon as she turned to a flustered Pinkie Pie. “Heh-heh... oops?” she said, rubbing the back of her head. Applejack smirked. “This I gotta hear. What’d you do now, Dash?” Pinkie opened her mouth, only to be cut off. “Pinkie Pie, don’t you dare!” Rainbow said warningly. Pinkie closed her mouth. “You realize of course,” Rarity said. “This makes us all the more curious still?” She then addressed Pinkie. “Go on then, darling. What exactly did our prismatic friend do?” Pinkie began to sweat as all eyes turned on her. Everymare was then surprised when Fluttershy spoke up. “She broke into Anon’s room.” Rainbow gawped. “F-Fluttershy?” “Ooh, the plot thickens!” Rarity gushed. “Dang it, Rainbow! Now why’d you go and do something so irresponsible?” “Not to mention creepy,” Twilight muttered. “It wasn’t my idea!” Rainbow said indignantly, then jabbed a hoof at a certain pink pony. “She put me up to it!” “Pinkie Pie?” Rarity said, her eyes wide. Pinkie sweated more profusely. “O-oops?” “Is that true then, Pinks?” Applejack said. Pinkie coughed, looking everywhere and nowhere in particular. “It seemed a good idea at the moment.” “Pinkie,” Twilight said as she brought up a hoof to rub her temple in the hopes of warding off the incipient headache. “What exactly possessed you to take such an... ill-advised course of action?” Gulping, she said, “Well, you see...” *** “...it’s a good idea!” Pinkie insisted as she pronked alongside Rainbow Dash. “I dunno,” Rainbow said as she fluttered along one of Ponyville’s main streets. “Sounds kinda sketchy to me. What if Anon or the others walk in on us? Who’s to say we won’t get caught?” “Oh please, Rainbow Dash. Who do you think you’re talking to?” Rainbow barely batted an eye as Pinkie froze, suspended in the air as she reached into her voluminous mane and retrieved a sealed manila envelope. After handing it to Rainbow, she allowed the laws of gravity to reassert themselves and Pinkie continued on pronking. “What is this?” Rainbow muttered as she opened the envelope and scanned its contents, her eyes progressively growing wider the further on she went. “Pinkie, what the hay?” “Pretty thorough, huh?” she said proudly. “Lyra helps Bon Bon out in her shop on Saturdays. She needs it, too. All those colts and fillies running around with allowance money burning a hole in their pockets? They’ll be busy well into the afternoon.” “But what about Anon?” Pinkie motioned her to keep on reading. Rainbow Dash shuffled the papers, reading the second page. “You’ve memorized his entire schedule?” Pinkie scoffed. “Hardly memorized!” she said with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “Just, you know, good old-fashioned stalk—er, recon! Ehh... intelligence gathering! Yeah.” “Eesh... I still dunno, Pinkie. Even for you...” Pinkie giggled. “Come on, Dashie. I keep detailed files on everypony in town. How do you think I throw the bestest, most splendiferousest tailor-made parties ever?” “Huh,” Rainbow muttered as she scanned the ill-attained information on the page. “I guess that makes sense. I always wondered how you... hey, wait a minute!” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she turned on Pinkie Pie. “Does that mean you keep files on me and the girls?” Pinkie came back down to earth. “Rainbow, Rainbow, Rainbow Dash,” Pinkie said magnanimously, then turned to her prismatic friend with a sly wink. “Don’t worry about it.” *** “Well, you say that,” remarked an extremely unamused Twilight. “But I really think we should.” “Yeah,” Applejack said. “It’s messed up.” Rarity sniffed. “I, for one, would like to hear more about these so-called files, and how thoroughly Pinkie’s gone about filling them.” “And we will. Trust me, we will,” Twilight assured her. “But let’s stay on topic.” She turned back to Pinkie. “We’re still waiting to hear why you thought breaking into Anonymous’ room was a good idea.” Pinkie giggled nervously. “I thought we might find some dirty maggos in his room.” At her friends’ questioning looks, she then elaborated. “You know, some Playcolt issues? Or Playmare, if that’s more his thing. Or, you know, anything else. See what kind of kinky stuff he’s into. See what gets his motor running.” Twilight considered this. Applejack then spoke up. “And? Didya find anything?” *** “Nothing. Zip. Nada!” Pinkie exclaimed in disbelief, throwing her hooves in the air. “Is that even possible? There’s no way he doesn’t have a naughty little something laying around.” Many ponies would describe Pinkie as random, and they’d be right. Slightly lesser known was the fact she was a master at finding and squeezing herself into the most unlikely places imaginable—a skill she’d shamelessly employed to practically turn Anonymous’ room inside out in her search for a juicy secret. She scanned the room again with a critical eye in the hopes of finding a spot she might have missed. Indeed, it looked as though a hurricane had swept through the room. Which, come to think of it, already looked as such even before starting their search. He really should pick up after himself, Pinkie mused. Oh well, colts will be colts. “Give it up, Pinkie. This whole thing’s a bust,” Rainbow said, emerging from beneath Anon’s double bed. “Nothing down there but spiders and dust bunnies,” she said grumpily and shook herself to get rid of the detritus that clung to her coat. “And isn’t it getting kinda late? I really don’t think we should push our luck. What if Anon or Lyra or... or that friend of hers come back?” “We’ll be fine,” Pinkie insisted, then reached into her mane and pulled out a clock, closely peering at the time. Her eyes darted to the door that lay atop the stairs. “Well, we should get a move on soon. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go ask.” Once the clock disappeared back into her mane, Pinkie pronked over to the dresser that sat under a window—well, more like a small, rectangular pane of glass that could slide open to let some fresh air(and some nosy ponies) inside—hopped onto it and, standing on her hind legs, waved over the third member of their little group. “How’s it look, Flutters? Any sign of him?” *** “Wait, wait. What?” Twilight interrupted. “You roped Fluttershy into this?” All eyes turned to the quiet mare, who fidgeted under the scrutiny. “Don’t blame me,” she said. “I was just the lookout.” “I must say, darling, this is not like you at all,” Rarity said. “Why did you even agree to this foolish venture?” Fluttershy turned a reproachful eye to a twitching Pinkie Pie. “She said she had a ‘really super-duper fun surprise’ waiting for me.” *** “This IS the surprise!” Pinkie declared proudly, waving a hoof to the humble house that two ponies and a certain human called their home. *** “Which, I guess it was. Just not fun. Or super-duper. Or very pleasant in general,” she said thoughtfully. “It was actually quite stressful.” “So let me get this straight, Pinkie Pie,” Applejack groaned as she ran a hoof down her face. “You’re tellin’ us this was all for nothing?” “I... wouldn’t say for nothing.” “Well,” Rarity hesitated. “Let’s look on the bright side. At the very least none of you girls were caught. Right?” Pinkie looked away. Rainbow grimaced, suddenly finding her hooves merited close scrutiny. “Right?” Rarity repeated. “N-no. No! I mean...” Pinkie stammered. “He didn’t exactly see us, but—” “But Anon nearly walked in on Rainbow and Pinkie in his bed,” Fluttershy said helpfully. Rainbow’s grimace tightened while Pinkie did her best blowfish impersonation by puffing her cheeks, spittle flying from her puckered lips—likely an attempt at nonchalant whistling. “I’m sorry,” Twilight said calmly. “Could you say that again? It almost sounded like you said Anonymous almost walked in on Pinkie and Rainbow in his bed.” She then turned to Pinkie. “But that can’t possibly be correct. Right, Pinkie?” Twilight said, her narrowed eyes piercing right through the twitching pink pony. “Because I distinctly remember you saying you and Dash got away with nopony being the wiser.” Pinkie scuffed the floor with a hoof. “Pinkie Pie!” “I told her we should go!” Pinkie cried. “We found nothing! Zip! Nada! Flutters and I were all set to leave, but Rainbow was like, ‘Nah, let’s roll around in his bed for a bit’. And then I was all like...” “What the hay!” Rainbow said heatedly. “Don’t pin this all on me! Fluttershy was supposed to be the lookout.” She rounded on the shy pegasus. “You had one job!” Fluttershy met Rainbow’s accusation with dignified stoicism. “I’m sorry if the two of you were caught, Rainbow, but I had to step away. Something more important came up.” “Care to share, sugarcube?” Applejack asked. Fluttershy’s wings ruffled. “Well, you see, there was this cute little family of dormice living in the attic of the house and, well, the mama and papa were upset because one of their kits was feeling under the weather, so I offered to take a look at him.” Taking a cue from Pinkie, Fluttershy carefully reached into her mane. Sitting on the frog of her hoof was a small, furry, curled up critter, dwarfed even by Fluttershy’s dainty hoof. It opened its eyes and regarded the curious mares around it. “Ooh, aren’t you the cutest little thing!” Rarity cooed, smiling charmingly as she leaned in, nose to nose. “Whatever is the matter with him, Fluttershy?” “He has a slight cold. His mama and papa say it can get a bit drafty where they live.” Rarity tutted. “Well, that won’t do at all, will it? Why don’t you bring him by the boutique later on, darling? I can make him the most adorable little sweater. Oh! Better yet, bring along his whole family! I’ll make matching outfits for them all. They will stay both warm and stylish.” Fluttershy smiled. “Thank you, Rarity. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.” She placed the dormouse back into her mane. “Oh, and Twilight? That reminds me, I need to fix up some medicine for the little one. Is it alright if I use your kitchen?” Twilight waved a hoof. “Not at all, Fluttershy. Go on ahead.” “What, so she gets a pass?” Rainbow grumbled under her breath, watching as Fluttershy picked up her saddlebags. She turned the handle to the door and it opened with the loud clank of oiled metal, before going out the room and closing it behind her. “Ooh, she’s good,” Pinkie whispered back. “As for you two,” Applejack said. “I’m almost afraid t’ ask... but what exactly were ya thinking rolling around in his bed?” Her eyes locked with Rainbow’s before curling into a malevolent smirk. “And you, missy. I thought you would have learned your lesson, especially after what happened at flight college.” Rainbow blanched. “Ooh,” Rarity said, eyes lighting up at the prospect of juicy gossip. “Do tell.” “Dash here had her eye on a stallion, y’see. What, Cirrus something? Anywho, she snuck into his room and got so caught up sniffin’ his sheets she completely missed him coming back.” “I told you that in confidence!” Rainbow shrilled. “Ya’ll were drunk! On my cider! Which ya still haven’t paid me back for, by the by!” “Um, Applejack?” Pinkie said. “Don’t be so harsh on Dashie. I mean, you weren’t there. You didn’t see how...” “How what, Pinkie?” Asked Twilight. *** “Uhh, Dashie?” Pinkie hesitated as she approached. “Whatcha doing?” Rainbow stood atop the bed, her back to Pinkie and leaning down, her muzzle buried in the fabric of the sheets. “C’mere for a moment,” Rainbow said, frowning in concentration, her nostrils flaring like a bloodhound with a scent trail. Pinkie shrugged and hopped atop the bed. A spicy, musky scent tickled her nose. “Do you smell it too?” Rainbow asked and before Pinkie could react, she shoved a bundled mass of the sheets right under Pinkie’s nose. Pinkie started a bit, but curiosity got the better of her. She then inhaled. “Oh. Oh, wow. That is—” “I know, right? And this is nothing. It’s like way stronger when he starts getting all sweaty during practice.” Pinkie fidgeted. Her hind legs rubbed together as the echoes of a familiar ache began to manifest in her marehood. “So you and Anon... I mean, have the two of you... you know,” she made a suggestive gesture with her hooves. Rainbow shook her head. “Really?” “Mm-mmm.” “Really, really,” Pinkie pressed. “Nope,” Rainbow said. “But that’s crazy! I mean,” Pinkie buried her face in the sheets and took a deep breath, purring in contentment. “That smells like somepony who’s rarin’ for some fun!” “Tell me about it,” Rainbow muttered. “You should have seen Derpy and AJ during Anon’s first few practice rounds at hoofball.” She grinned. “It was like Neighagara Falls down there.” “If he’s as potent as you say,” Pinkie inhaled the sheets again, her cheeks flushed. “I can’t really blame them. Oof, it’s even getting me all hot and bothered,” “I’d say you get used to it,” Dash said as she followed Pinkie’s lead and took another sample of Anonymous’ exotic alien musk. “But you really don’t.” *** “Aha!” Rarity said suddenly. “So I wasn’t imagining things after all!” At her friends’ questioning looks, she elaborated. “I too noticed Anonymous tended to send, eh, mixed signals, so to speak. I thought nothing of it at first. Just normal human behavior was my thinking, but after hearing what Rainbow and Pinkie said, it’s more likely Anonymous doesn’t even realize he’s, well, putting himself out there.” “I’m not too sure about that, Rares,” Applejack said. “I mean, I’ve been close to the feller when he starts working up a good sweat. He might as well be hanging a sign over his head invitin’ ya for a private hoedown, if you know what I mean.” Twilight voiced her doubts. “Don’t forget, Applejack. He’s technically an alien. First of his kind in Equestria. There’s no precedent where he and his biology are concerned. But... hmm.” she tapped a hoof to her chin. “More likely than not, his sense of smell is nowhere near acute as ours. And that’s not mentioning the fact we know next to nothing about his species’ mating rituals. Things that may seem normal or obvious to us probably go over his head, and vice versa.” Rainbow groaned. “You’re making this sound way too complicated. He has needs, we have needs. We get together, break the ice and help each other out. Easy peasy.” Applejack raised an eyebrow. “That simple, huh?” Rainbow shrugged. “Works for everypony else.” “Maybe you’re right,” Twilight said to the surprise of all. “Well, to an extent. There could be a middle ground here we can work towards.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Of course, we still have unknown variables to contend with.” Her wing unfolded to point at the six visual aids in the chalkboard. “We’ve all made a bit of progress this past week, and though we have a better sense of where we stand with Anonymous, I believe it’s as good a time as any to test the waters. Dip our hooves, so to speak. See how... receptive he is to a mare’s advances.” “Aw, yeah!” Rainbow said, rubbing her hooves. “Finally, some action.” “Which reminds me, Applejack,” Twilight continued. “Be so kind as to tie Pinkie up for a bit. We wouldn’t want any rogue elements to destabilize this delicate part of our operation.” “Wait, what?” With a flash of magic, a rope materialized in front of Applejack and before Pinkie could blink, she found herself hogtied to the floor, lying face-up, her legs kicking as she squirmed against her bonds. “Oh, come on!” she cried indignantly. “S’rry hun,” Applejack said thickly, not looking sorry at all, rope held in her mouth as she gave it one last tug to tighten the knots. “But, y’know, royal mandate and all.” “Think of it this way, darling,” Rarity said breezily. “A nice, well-earned rest.” Rainbow hovered above the bound Pinkie Pie, eyes narrowed as she regarded her friend’s compromised position. A core memory stirred in her mind. Her lip curled into a licentious smirk. “Heheh,” she chuckled. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you guys?” Her friends spared her some curious glances. “Hearth's Warming Eve? AJ’s barn? Pinkie’s big box of toys?” Her friends blushed and looked away, the events of that wild night deeply etched in their collective memories. “Ooh!” Pinkie cooed. “Does this make me the Hearth’s Warming gift again?” She batted her eyelashes in an uncannily similar way to Rarity. “Who gets to open me up this time?” She wiggled suggestively in a manner that drew attention to her supple flank. Her friends blushed harder still. “Look, Pinkie dear,” Rarity said delicately. “You know the girls and I love you for your, eh, Pinkieness. But maybe you should learn when to tone it down a skooch.” The others muttered their agreement. Pinkie’s smile wavered. “Oh. Sorry everypony,” she said sincerely. “Guess I got a little too excited, huh?” “Happens to the best of us, sugarcube.” Pinkie took a deep breath, then another. “In my defense, it’s been a while since I’ve had a stallion.” Applejack nodded solemnly. “The dating pool is a bit dry out there.” Twilight smiled wryly. “Welcome to Ponyville, am I right?” Her friends’ chuckles were tinged with a hint of bitterness. “It’s probably too little, too late,” Pinkie said. “But I’m sorry, Twilight. I didn’t mean to throw a monkey wrench in the works.” Rainbow sighed. “Yeah, me too. We should have known better than to break into somepony’s house. It’s just, well,” She bit her lip. “I haven’t been laid in months, alright? A-and Anon’s not making things any easier, running around with that... that... ‘buck me’ smell of his.” Pinkie and Applejack nodded knowingly. “It’s been a dry spell for us all, darling,” Rarity said. “But we are also grown mares, not ones to give in to our base impulses.” “Uh-huh,” Rainbow drawled. “And how long’s it been since you got some action, Rares?” Rarity chuckled. “Well, it’s not been months, I can tell you that much. Why, it’s... it’s only been—” Rarity’s small, haughty smile curved downward, morphing into a grim line as she stared into the distance. “No, you know what? A proper lady does not kiss and tell!” Rainbow snorted, rolling her eyes. “And no offense, Twilight,” Pinkie said, still bound like a prize hog. “But you’re not exactly helping, what with drawing cocks all over the place.” She jerked her head to the chalkboard, where the phallic looking aids stretched tall and proud, almost mocking the horny mares. Twilight sighed wearily. “I’ve said it already, Pinkie, they are not—” The turning of a brass handle rang loud in the small room, drawing the attention of all. Fluttershy stepped forward, her lips taut in a strained smile. Flanking her was the tall, distinctive shape of... “Anon-Anonymous?” Twilight squeaked out, nearly choking on her spit. Her unprepared friends fared little better. He nodded. “Hey, Twilight. Ladies,” He said, acknowledging the other mares. His eyes then fell on the still bound Pinkie. “...Should I come back later?” “O-oh, this?” Pinkie said, wiggling her limbs. “Pshh, no. No! We... we were just, um...” “Learning about knots!” Twilight said. Rainbow cocked her head. “We were?” Rarity not-so-subtly kicked her in the shins. “I-I mean, yes! Yes we were. In fact, AJ was telling us all about it.” She turned to the cowpony with a smile that was a bit too wide and self-satisfied. “Right?” Applejack’s eye twitched. “Right y’are, RD,” she said through clenched teeth and trotted over to Pinkie’s side and tugged at the rope for emphasis. “See, this here’s a square knot. It’s a good, all-around, reliable sort.” She pulled at the rope with a swift tug, releasing the bound Pinkie. “Ooh, don’t forget the pretzel knot,” Pinkie said helpfully as she got back to her hooves. “I like that one.” “And the double-diamond knot,” Rarity chimed in. “My dad taught me the gut knot,” Rainbow said. “I like the butterfly knot,” Fluttershy said softly. Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin. “Interesting. Maybe I should look into...” She caught Anonymous’ eye and shook her head. “Oh. Sorry, where are my manners?” Smiling pleasantly, she said, “What brings you here? Can I help you with something?” “I’d like to check out some books.” “You do?” Her face lit up with a smile. “That’s great! I... don’t believe you even have a library card, do you? I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stop by before and... w-well, that’s alright! We can get you set up in a jiffy. It’s really a fairly expedient process, much more streamlined than the system we had in place before I took over the library,” she said proudly. “Anyway, follow me and we’ll sort it out.” Trotting beside him, Twilight unfolded her wing to usher him out the small room and into the main hall of the library, closing the door with her magic. She then made a beeline for the small reception area she appropriated for conducting library business and began rifling through it in search for the necessary items. Blank library cards, an official ledger, quills; the works. “Hmm, I know I had that thing around here somewhere...” Twilight muttered as she used her magic to open the various drawers at the reception desk, levitating the contents as she searched for the camera. Anonymous nodded. “You mind if I look around in the meantime?” Twilight waved a hoof. “Not at all.” After making sure she placed everything back where it was, she looked up. “Looking for something in particular? Did you have any questions?” Anonymous scratched at the stubble of his jaw, lips quirking into an odd smile as he glanced back at the small room he’d found Twilight. “Just one, actually,” With a jerk of his thumb, pointed to the closed door to Twilight’s study. “What’s with the cocks?” *** Back inside Twilight’s study, five mares had their own issues to deal with. “Hoo-whee,” Pinkie Pie sighed, wiping the imaginary sweat off her forehead. “That was close.” “Dagnabit, Fluttershy,” Applejack whispered. “Why’d you go and bring that feller inside here anyway?” “Oh. Well, I did try and talk to Anonymous to distract him but, um, I don’t think he heard me.” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Typical.” “Hush now, girls,” Rarity whispered. “Let’s not give him any reason to suspect anything’s amiss.” She turned her attention to the door and, calling upon her magic, opened it ever so delicately—just enough to allow a sliver of the events playing out in the main room. The five mares were practically stacked atop the other as they vied for a spot to peek through. “Is she... lecturing him?” Rainbow Dash said. “So it seems,” Rarity sighed. “Silly Twilight,” Pinkie giggled. “No wonder she never gets any action.” “Even I know that’s not the way to get a stallion interested,” Fluttershy whispered. “Yes siree,” Applejack said dejectedly. “We sure have our work cut out for us with this filly.” “Ohh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” Pinkie said. “We just need to push her in the right direction.” “What we need,” Rainbow said. “Is to somehow get her to take that big ol’ stick out her plothole.” “Rainbow Dash!” Rarity said, aghast. “Do you kiss your father with that mouth?” “No. Just yours.” “Now see here, you—” “Landsakes, do the two of y’all need a room?” Applejack hissed. “Or a spicy little accoutrement to kick things up a notch?” Pinkie said, presenting her hoof in which she held a peculiar, teardrop-shaped object, the kind an adventurous pony or creature might use for backdoor activities. There came the frantic beating of wings and stomping of hooves as her friends backed away from the obscene object in her grip. Rarity’s eyes were wide as saucers. “P-P-Pinkie Pie! Where on Tartarus did you get that?” “Why do you even have it?” Applejack demanded, regarding the profane object as if it were a snake in the grass. “Well, we were talking about plots and pulling things out of plots and something about bedroom play, so...” she swiveled her head, regarding the horrified and livid glares sent her way. “Did I misread that?” “The buck do ya think?” Applejack said through gritted teeth. “Put it away. Just put it away!” Rarity wailed. Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Alright, jeez... everypony’s being a sourpuss today.” She then reached back behind her and... Everymare groaned. Dash facehooved. “No. Pinkie! Don’t stick it up your... why didn’t you just put it back where you found it?” Pinkie blinked. “But I did.” ... … “That’s it,” Rarity said. “I’m out of here.” She promptly cantered for the door, opening it with her telekinesis. “Wait, Rarity!” said Fluttershy as she fluttered after her. “I don’t think Twilight was done with her—” The door slammed shut. “Oh. Okay.” Author's Note Note to self: Do NOT try and create an entire scene for the purpose of setting up a cock joke. You'll just tear your hairs out trying to make it all fit.
McDerpy'sView OnlineHeat SeasonMcDerpy's“Welcome to McDerpy’s! May I take your... oh, heya Anon!” the wall-eyed mare said brightly, craning her neck to look up at him. “Hey, Derpy,” he said blandly and placed a number of bits on the counter. “Can I get my usual?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Coming right up!” Only a few ponies occupied the dozen or so mismatched tables in the modest establishment, most having gone back to their jobs after the lunch rush. Anonymous took a seat upon the largest one. He rather liked the place. It was cozy, welcoming and unpretentious—an apt mirror of its owner—foregoing the use of chairs for cushions large enough for a pony to comfortably lie belly-down. Even then Anonymous had a decent view of the kitchen; clean but cluttered and well cared for. He watched as Derpy cheerfully went about her task, wryly noting the way her blonde mane spilled out of her paper hat—a retro-looking piece, white in color with red trim—negating the supposed attempt at food safety practices. After setting up the blender, Derpy scooped a generous portion of vanilla ice cream, a splash of milk (both locally sourced from Sweet Apple Acres, naturally), a helping of chocolate syrup, then added the final component—a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin; luscious, decadent, with a tender crumb, likely baked fresh that same morning and nearly as big as her head—and promptly crammed it down the blender before hitting frappé. “Here you go! An extra-large chocolate McMuffin shake,” she said, balancing the shake (topped with a straw, whipped cream and a cherry) atop a tray; held together by two metal arms hooked round her neck. Anonymous reached out for it with a muttered thanks and Derpy went back to attend more customers. The shake was simple but delicious. Creamy, and of impeccable quality. While he very much at times missed the modern conveniences of supermarkets, there was something to be said for a local food web. The flavors were far more vibrant; fresher. It helped that the ponies’ advancements in food preservation were marginal at best, having not yet incorporated hard science, chemicals and synthetic preservatives in the process. It meant that all towns and cities—save for the major centers like Canterlot and Manehatten—largely grew and sourced their food from within their own backyard. Yet even the delicious treat did not fully register with Anonymous. His mind was elsewhere, his eyes glassy, replaying the events that took place not an hour earlier. Already he could feel his face grow warm and his heartbeat quicken from the mere memory of Rarity’s mouth on his dick, and the utterly foreign but incredible sensation of her magic upon it. Which led to the question; what now? While he could easily allow himself to fall for the classy mare, it was also prudent to remember things worked differently here. A prelude to sex could be just that: sex. Not that he’d balk at the opportunity for a purely physical relationship with her either. Assuming of course, she still even wanted to. The memory of their brief encounter could very well be sullied by the association of Sweetie Belle and her untimely arrival. Hell, it certainly soured his mood, abruptly bringing him back to the present, and somewhat worried about laws in this world regarding minors and if he might get in trouble for unwittingly flashing his dick to the little filly. Then again, pony jail might well be a breeze. They were such a friendly, forgiving species with little to no notions of cruelty that he couldn’t imagine a jail sentence being anything more than a slightly inconvenient, albeit boring vacation. That is, if he doesn’t draw the short stick and get sent to Tartarus. I really should brush up on pony law... He was jerked out of his musings by the poke of a hoof upon his shoulder, meeting Derpy’s wall-eyed stare. “Y-yeah?” She hesitated. “Are you okay? You look kinda, uh, zoned?” “Zoned out?” Derpy perked up. “Ooh, yeah. That sounds right! So... are you?” “Yeah, yeah... just, you know, thinking.” “Hard?” “W-what?” “Were you thinking really hard?” she clarified. “My head sometimes hurts when I think a lot.” Anonymous smiled. He couldn’t not like this mare. “Yes, Derpy, I was thinking a bit too hard.” “You should be careful,” she warned. Her muzzle scrunched up with distaste. “You’ll need medicine if it hurts for too long.” “What’s wrong with medicine?” “It tastes gross!” she said, sticking out her tongue. “I used to bake my medicine into my muffins. I could barely even taste it! But Dr. Horse got really mad at me when he found out.” Anonymous chuckled. He reached out and scratched behind her ear. Derpy smiled, closing her eyes, humming in contentment. Her tail swished excitedly. “I’m sure he was just worried about you.” “Yeah, that's what Rainbow Dash said. B-but he didn’t have to be so mean about it!” “Well, it’s not easy being a doctor. He, uh, has to think. Really hard. Every day.” Derpy gawped. “E-every day?” Anon nodded gravely. “For hours.” “That’s horrible!” “Yeah. So you can see why he might be a bit crabby when his patients don’t take their medicine properly.” Derpy’s ears drooped. “Oh. Well... well now I feel bad.” “Why?” She blushed. “I called him...” She looked around to check no one was nearby and leaned in. “Dr. Meanie. In my head. Um, a lot.” Anonymous bit his lip in a bid to stifle a bout of laughter. “I’m sure he won’t take offense,” he said dryly. “But if you feel that bad about it, you could always give him a gift.” “A gift. Like... like food?” “Sure, if you want. Maybe one of your famous muffins or shakes.” Derpy smiled brightly, her wings ruffling. “Oh, that’s a great idea! He always gets the same thing—raisin bran with skim milk. An-and not the regular ice cream either. He likes the weird one without the cream, and the sugar that’s not sugar, and the free lactose.” “Lactose-free?” She nodded eagerly. “That’s the one.” At that moment chimed the bell atop the door, signaling the arrival of new customers. “Uh-oh, I better get back to work before I get in trouble!” “Derpy, you’re the boss here.” “O-oh, right,” she said bashfully, rubbing the back of her head. “Heheh, force of habit. Anyway, I should still go. Those shakes and muffins aren’t gonna serve themselves!” She made to turn, but hesitated. Instead, Derpy leaned in and lightly nuzzled her cheek to his. “Bye, Anon. It was nice talking to you. Next shake is on the house!” He watched the cheerful mare hurry on over to the counter and begin to take orders, feeling strangely clearheaded. It was nice talking to you. Maybe there was something to that, he mused, sipping the still thick shake, savoring it properly now. Delicious. He could use a friendly ear to bounce things off of. Lyra and Bon Bon immediately came to mind, but they and Rarity were acquaintances at best. Luckily, he knew another mare. Someone who shared the same circle of friends as Rarity; a good, honest friend with whom he was on good terms with. Nodding to himself, and with a clear sense of purpose, Anonymous finished off the rest of his shake and stepped out onto another sunny day, charting the well-trodden course for Sweet Apple Acres.
Tickle You Pink - 1 of 4View OnlineHeat SeasonTickle You Pink - 1 of 4“Anon! Anon! AnonAnonAnon!” Anon nearly fell back in surprise as he spun to see the pink blur zip up to him, a cloud of dust trailing in her wake. “Hey, Pinkie,” he said warily. He eyed the hyperactive ball of energy in pony form. Pinkie’s cute little muzzle was scrunched up. Her body positively vibrated with nervous energy, and a strange gleam—part anticipation, part something else he couldn’t name—shone in her baby blue eyes. “Anon, I need your help! We have an emergency!” she said urgently, hopping up and down. “Rrrright,” he drawled. “What sort of emergency?” Pinkie shook her head. “There’s no time! Come on, we need to go now.” She promptly circled around him and used her head to push from behind. Somehow, impossibly, the little pink mare succeeded—nevermind the fact he was taller and heavier than her; nevermind the fact he stood firmly planted on the ground—somehow, the heels of his shoes made parallel trails across the ground as he was pushed forward by the much smaller pony. By all means an impossible, nonsensical feat, but par for the course for Pinkie Pie. “Here’s the thing, Pinkie,” he said. “I’m actually on my way over to Applejack’s.” She shook her head bullishly, still pushing him along. “That can wait. This is, uh, a super-duper, double decker, mega-size emergency.” Anon hesitated. While he and the pink pony were far from strangers, he still couldn’t fully tell when she was being serious or just... Pinkie about things. He stepped to the side and Pinkie nearly fell forward but, hoping to avoid an accident and maybe keep her still for a bit (seriously, just watching her sometimes wore him out) deftly picked her up, holding her at arm’s length by gripping either side of her body. It still amazed him how light these ponies were. Especially her. He’d seen firsthand how much food she could put away. “Now when you say emergency...” She huffed. “I mean emergency! What else could it mean? Does that word have another meaning back on Dirt?” “Earth, Pinkie,” he said patiently. “Now why don’t you tell me what this is about?” “But... emergency.” “I’m sure it can wait a moment.” Pinkie huffed again, but didn’t argue further. She cast a look around them. Some ponies briefly stopped to see the commotion, but moved on once they caught sight of Pinkie’s unmistakable coat. Pinkie business, as the local saying went, nothing to see here. “Pinkie?” He was briefly struck as her baby blue eyes met his. He’d always thought they were gorgeous. Pinkie opened her mouth, then hesitated. She (impossibly) hopped off his grip and shifted her posture. Anonymous—either by pure reflex or a helping of Pinkie logic—caught her again, carrying her bridal style. Pinkie paid it no mind and leaned in to whisper, “It’s, uh, kiiiiind of private. Can we go somewhere else?” “I dunno. This all sounds kind of shady.” Pinkie pouted. “Pleeeease?” Anon rolled his eyes, though his heart wasn’t in it. “Oh, very well.” He lowered his arms, expecting Pinkie to hop off, but she made no signs of doing so. “You getting off, or...” She pouted again. “Why? Are you tired of me already?” “Pinkie...” She giggled. “Just playing, you big lug.” She wrapped her arms around him and drew close to nuzzle his neck, then hopped off. Anon smiled in spite of himself. “Is there even an emergency?” Pinkie nodded feverishly. “Uh-huh.” “Alright, then. Let’s go... wherever. Lead the way.” She did so, pronking in typical Pinkie fashion, making a beeline for... “Sugarcube Corner?” “Yeppers!” “So you need help in the kitchen, or...” Pinkie giggled. “Of course not, silly. We close early on the weekends. We’re here for something else.” “Just as long as it’s low-key. I’m already on thin ice with the Cakes as is.” “Oh, they’re taking the twins to Whinnyland for the week. We got the whooole place to ourselves,” she said, glancing back with a smile and a wink before entering. Anon followed. Something in her tone... could he be imagining things? That wink, the way she leaned in to nuzzle him... Pinkie could be quite the tactile pony. She took the boundaries of personal space as suggestions more than anything. Combine it with her overly friendly, approachable personality and one could easily mistake her friendly overtures for something more. He shook his head. Nah, just imagining things. Pinkie being Pinkie. “So,” he said once he entered. “What’s this all about?” Pinkie stood at the door as she fastened the locks, her back to him, granting a perfect view of her plot. His eyes were drawn to it. Round and bubbly, but not fat. He thought it a conundrum. All that sugar, it had to go somewhere. Where, though? Whatever pudge the pink pony packed on seemed to go directly to her flanks but again, these were not fat nor flabby in any way. They looked springy—bouncy, if anything. Oof, how he’d love to get his hands on... Anon rapidly shook his head. Where did that come from? He straightened up, willing his thoughts to not stray where they shouldn’t. Pinkie went about the dining area and closed each of the curtains. What vestigial rays did manage to penetrate cast the shop’s interior in a dim light; plenty enough for Anon to clearly see. Satisfied nopony could take a cursory peek inside, Pinkie nodded to herself and returned to his side. “So...?” Pinkie grinned toothily. “Sooooo?” she repeated in a singsong voice. Something in her grin made him oddly wary. “Why are we here?” She giggled. “Straight to the big questions, huh? Why are we here? What is life? Is it nothing more than the endless search for a Cutie Mark? And what of this poor human, flank forever blank as he...” “Pinkie,” he said warningly. “Not one for deep thoughts, huh?” “I’ll ask again, why are we here?” She opened her mouth, but Anon cut her off. “I mean for what specific reason did you bring me here?” “I need help.” “What with?” “Sit down and I’ll tell you.” Anon gave her a flat stare, unmoving. “Pleeease?” Still nothing. “Please with sugar and chocolate and caramel and whipped cream and sprinkles and a cherry on top?” He sighed. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he muttered and reluctantly sat cross-legged on the wooden floor. “Now close your eyes.” “Wha... why?” “It’s part of the surprise.” “I thought it was an emergency.” “That too. They’re not mutually exclusive, Nonon.” “I’m starting to think this is all a sham.” “No, silly! It’s an emergency. And a surprise. An emerprise!” “That’s a terrible name. Now give me one good reason I should keep playing along with this... whatever it is.” Pinkie hummed, tapping a hoof to her chin. Her muzzle scrunched up, lined with an uncharacteristically ponderous look. She then smiled and brightly said, “Sunk cost fallacy.” Anon sighed. “Fair enough.” And closed his eyes. He really should learn to put his foot down with her. A few moments passed before he heard the soft shuffling of hooves, drawing closer and yet... yet something felt out of place. Pinkie was special. Not in a bad way, but she did have a certain air about her; a vibrant, barely restrained sort of energy that followed her everywhere she went. Hers were smiles, joy, laughter, and her mere presence alone could liven up the mood of just about every room or gathering she entered (or rather, bounded into). But now? Now that presence felt dulled. Muted. A silence swelled over the empty establishment. Her hooves tapped the hardwood floor, softly—no, almost... hesitant? It slightly unnerved him. Pinkie drew nearer, closer, to the point Anon felt her presence. He’d wager she stood scant inches from him. I swear, if she throws a pie at my face, I’m gonna... “Mmph?” He opened his eyes. Pinkie’s lips were pressed to his. They were... soft. Incredibly so. Like velvety pillows filled with the fluffiest of clouds. The kiss was chaste. Gentle. It stretched for a moment before Pinkie puckered her lips and applied the slightest bit of pressure. She then broke the kiss and backed away. Anon sat dumbstruck as the heat rushed to his face. “Pinkie?” “Mmm-hm?” “What was that?” “A kiss.” Anon bit back a sigh. “I figured that much. Why did you kiss me?” “Didn’t you like it?” “Of cour... uh, that’s beside the point,” he added hastily. “I’m just trying to understand. What, uh, what brought this on?” Pinkie fidgeted. She tapped her hooves together. The dim light that did manage to pierce through the closed curtains cast the shop’s interior in muted colors. It made it tricky to pick out and Anon would have missed it, were his eyes not searching Pinkie’s admittedly cute face. A blush. It was slight, nigh imperceptible; the natural colors of her vibrant coat masking most of it. “It seemed a good idea at the moment.” Anon shook his head. It was such a Pinkie thing for her to say. His eyes traced the soft outlines of her face. Cute as a button, yes, complimented by traces of that sweet smell that clung to her like perfume—like a mix of butterscotch, nougat and the slightest bite of peppermint. You are what you eat, he mused wryly, and a thought suddenly occurred to him. Would she taste as good as she smelled? “Did you?” “Huh?” Anon smirked. “That kiss. Did you like it?” The question caught Pinkie off-guard. She blinked rapidly and broke eye contact, ducking her head. Anon watched in astonishment as her lips curved tentatively into a bashful smile. Bashful. It’s not a word he’d ever associate with her. “Maaaaaybe.” “This have something to do with that Pinkie Sense of yours?” Pinkie hummed, her smile growing. “Partly that.” She locked eyes with him again. “Partly you.” “I don’t get it.” A glint of mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Oh, I think you do.” Before he could respond, Pinkie said, “Where were you earlier today?” “McDerpy’s.” “Before that.” “Uhh, the library?” “After that.” “I, um, R-Rarity. I helped with her shopping.” “Is that it?” Pinkie said. Her smile gained an impish quality to it and she approached Anonymous, her hooves echoing in the quiet eatery. “You didn’t, hmm, help her with anything else?” She drew closer. So close to the point Anon thought Pinkie aimed for another kiss. Instead, she nuzzled the right side of his face, inhaling quick little bursts of air. “You smell like Rarity.” Before he could retort, Pinkie touched the tip of her tongue to him, trailing it along his cheek. She giggled. “You taste like her too.” Anon flushed at the blatant implication. “You,” he croaked. “You and Rarity?” Pinkie hummed. “Once or twice.” She didn’t feel like elaborating further, choosing instead to capture his lips with hers. Unlike the previous kiss though, this one wasn’t gentle. Pinkie’s nostrils flared, sighing in contentment. She shoved her tongue into his mouth, running it along the ridges of his teeth, poking at the points of his canines. For his part, Pinkie’s sudden assault left Anon dumbstruck. Eventually his brain caught up to the fact a cute mare literally threw herself at him and thus responded in kind. She tasted sweet. Like candy. He couldn’t hold a candle against her larger pony tongue, but that did not mean he didn’t respond to her assault in kind. Pinkie hummed as his hand snaked to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of her impossibly bouncy mane. Unknown to Anon, all mares were sensitive in this spot. It’s where a stallion would bite and pull when mounting them from behind. Pinkie broke the kiss, groaning when he tugged those curly locks. She giggled and squealed in delight as he peppered kisses down along her neck, and shivered when he tugged again, harder this time, at her poofy mane. “You.” He kissed her. “Smell.” And again. “Good.” And once more for good measure. Pinkie nuzzled the crook of his neck. “That’s my line, silly billy.” Again their lips found each other, their kiss more restrained, but no less enthusiastic. His teeth were so... different. They had edges, ridges and points that pony teeth simply didn’t. Pinkie traced them with her tongue, oddly fascinated by them, over to the point it left the tip of her tongue red and raw. When they broke again, the two were flushed and lightly panting. Pinkie noticed an odd look come over his face and asked, “What is it?” “Nothing, nothing,” he said quickly. “It’s not, um...” he cleared his throat. “Today took a few turns I didn’t expect, is all.” It’s not like Pinkie hadn’t offered him a good time before, inviting him to a ‘private party for two’ to help him loosen up or some nonsense. Probably more for her benefit than anything else. And the last time it came up had been over a year ago, and Pinkie gave no indication she even still entertained the idea. Anon merely figured she’d written him off as a potential partner altogether. “Oh, that?” she said. “Rarity said we shouldn’t push it. She said you’d want to have fun when and if you were good and ready.” Anon chuckled. “Yeah, that Rarity. She’s such a considerate... wait, wait. What?” He stared shrewdly at Pinkie. “What do you mean ‘we’?” “Huh?” “We.” “Us?” “No. ‘We’.” “Yeah, you and me. What of it?” “No, I... what you said before.” “Us?” “That... that’s not... you said...” Anon’s face rapidly grew redder, though unlike some times when dealing with Pinkie, this did not stem from frustration alone. Their little make out session resulted in the two of them coming into contact. Very close contact. Even now she more or less sat on his lap, resting her springy flanks atop his legs. He held her in his arms and only now began to appreciate how soft she was. How warm. He could hold on to her forever and so came a thought, overtaking and bulldozing any trivial questions he might have had. How amazing would it be to snuggle her in bed? He pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned. “Oh, damn it all to hell.” He opened his eyes to see Pinkie. Her playful little smile was absent, replaced instead by a worried frown. She hesitated and started to say something when Anonymous grabbed her by her mane and mashed his lips to hers. He’d had but a taste of a mare with Rarity, and found he liked it. He liked it very much. And now, with another willing mare at his hands, Anonymous indulged himself. Pinkie’s squeak of surprise was muffled by their joining lips. She groaned, her eyelids fluttering as he roughly grabbed another fistful of her mane and pulled. His larger frame swiftly overpowered her small body, and she found her back pressed to the wooden floor. The world grew faint for Pinkie. A muggy haze settled over her mind and an utterly foreign thrill shot up her spine as the normally composed Anonymous was now as a beast, panting—near growling—as he attacked her lips with his own, looming large atop her and completely and utterly dominating her. When he at last pulled away, his face flushed, his chest heaving as he drew large breaths and the lustful haze receding from his own head, Anonymous regarded the little mare pinned beneath him with clearer eyes. Propped on his hands and knees, Pinkie appeared curiously small. A deep blush graced the soft features of her face and her baby blue eyes, previously glazed over, now regained their focus. Her hooves were folded over her chest, rising and contracting as she pulled slow, deep breaths from her half-open mouth. Anonymous gulped. She looked so helpless. So ready to allow whatever he might have wanted and damn him if she didn’t look as decadent and scrumptious as the plethora of baked goodies she so loved to make. For a moment he worried he’d gone too far, been too forceful with the little mare, but relaxed somewhat as her lips pulled into a small, dopey smile. “Wow,” she breathed, her voice so small he struggled to hear it amidst the pounding blood in his ears. “That was... wow.” Anonymous let a brief harsh laugh. “You know,” he said, panting. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you planned for something like this to happen.” Pinkie’s smile grew, but she remained silent. The playful gleam in her eyes all but confirmed it. “Hmm-mm. Hoped, maybe,” she said coyly. “I see.” Pinkie giggled as his fingernails ran over her belly. “And what else—” A soft squeak as his fingers lightly pinched one of her teats. “—were you hoping for?” Words did not come easily. Not as he pulled and teased at it, rolling it between his fingers. Pinkie squirmed beneath him. Her blush threatened to return in full force, so wonderful were the sensations those squiggly fingers of his granted, and when he used his other hand joined in and took her other teat as its plaything, Pinkie could not hold back the moans and squeals of delight they evoked from her. Another haze settled over her, not at all like the previous one, so heavy and overpowering it rendered her nearly helpless, no; this one was lighter, softer, and it filled her with a giddy sort of joy that left her lightheaded. So eager to lose herself in the moment, Pinkie barely registered one of his hands leave her teat, trailing lower and lower. She stiffened, and a sharp intake of breath as his fingers brushed the outer lips of her marehood. Pinkie opened her mouth and merely forcing the words out was a task unto itself. “Stop. Wait.” His fingers pulled away and though Pinkie regretted they took those incredible sensations with them, it allowed her to gather her thoughts. “Not here,” she panted. “Oh... did you want to stop?” “Stop? Stop?” Pinkie said incredulously. She cupped her hooves onto his face and pulled him in for a deep kiss. “No, silly billy,” she giggled. “We’re just getting started.” “Oh. So why did you...” Pinkie gave a good-natured roll of her eyes. “Well we can’t do it here, dummy! Look around you.” She waved her leg over the empty restaurant. “Do you know how many health codes we’d be violating doing the Pony Pokey in here?” “Uh, no?” “I don’t either! But we’d probably get in trouble.” Grimly, she continued. “Trust me, you do not want to mess with Big Health.” She promptly pronked over to the base of the stairs. “So if you wanna see where this goes and...” Blushing, she glanced back to Anon and hitched her tail, granting him a full, uncensored view of her puffy ponut and winking marehood. “And stuff mama Pinkie with your rich cream filling,” she giggled at the crass joke. “Get that juicy monkey butt up in here!” Anonymous needed no further prompting and chased after her, racing up the stairs amidst her joyous laughter. Author's Note Been kinda sorta toying with the idea of breaking up the story into smaller chapters. The thinking is it'll help cut down on those unacceptable months-long gaps between updates. Let's see how it goes.
Tickle You Pink - 2 of 4View OnlineHeat SeasonTickle You Pink - 2 of 4Pinkie screamed in glee when Anonymous caught up with her. He snatched her from behind and picked her up with ease, and pinned her back to the wall. Pinkie giggled. Her nostrils flared and deeply inhaled his scent. It made her lightheaded. It reminded her of a stallion’s when he got ready and eager for some fun, but his was far more potent. Overpowering. “Jeez, you’re a quick one,” Anon panted once he leaned back. “Well of course, silly,” Pinkie said, grinning. “How else do you think I stay in shape?” “An unnatural, freakishly fast metabolism?” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Well, duh! But, y’know, it can only do so much.” She chuckled. “Gotta give it some help.” Anon followed suit. “You’re such a silly pony.” An idea came to her. During one of their slumber parties, Rarity gave her and the girls some tips on how to tease and play on a stallion. Some of her friends were more receptive than the others. Applejack and Dashie merely scoffed and rolled their eyes. Twilight conjured up a quill and parchment and furiously took notes. A blushing Fluttershy and Pinkie herself listened intently; the latter unusually attentive. “Yeah.” Pinkie placed a hoof on his chest. Smiling, she batted her eyelashes. “And you like me for it.” It worked! She held his gaze just as Rarity showed them, with half-lidded eyes and an inviting smile. Pinkie nearly burst out laughing at his flustered reaction. The urge proved too strong. Just as her facade threatened to break, the flushed Anon leaned in and kissed her again. Pinkie chuckled, but leaned into the kiss. She liked kisses and he was good at it. And enthusiastic! She draped her hooves over his shoulders. So solid. Were all humans like this? She often hugged and nuzzled her friends (and some of the townsponies) and even the odd unattached stallion who was up for some fun. None of them were built quite like Anon. He did say a lot of things felt ‘softer’ here than back home. Maybe that had something to do with it. At any other point, she might have thought being held by him would be a skooch uncomfortable. It wasn’t. Not at all. In fact, Pinkie found the solid embrace oddly comforting. And while she was not at all opposed to things getting a little rough with a stallion, she was still a mare and very much appreciated a softer touch. Which is why she hummed in contentment as Anon stroked her mane. His fingers trailed down her scalp, sending warm, cozy little spikes of pleasure where they went. The excitement of knowing she’d finally get to know what he was like in the sack, combined with her dry spell; and the strong, intoxicating scent of his that made her lightheaded meant Pinkie failed to notice his hand treading a particular path, up and up to her... *Snap!* “Ouch!” Anon jerked back. Pinkie yelped in surprise as she fell abruptly onto the floor. She looked up to see Anon’s grimace of pain, his right hand held out in which a... curiously oversized mousetrap clamped down on his fingers. “O-oops.” Anon’s head whipped around. His eye twitched as he regarded the guilty-looking Pinkie Pie. “Pinkie,” he said. “What the hell? What... what is this?” She smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head. “Heh. Heheh,” she chuckled uneasily. “I forgot I had that thing.” At his unamused glare, she continued. “It’s my, ah, security system?” He remained silent still and she continued. “Y-you know.” She motioned vaguely to her mane. “Don’t want just anypony getting their hooves into this thing.” Anon gawped. “Here. Let me just...” Pinkie muttered and trotted over to him. She stood on her hind legs and reached out with her forehooves, fiddling with the mousetrap and pulled back the release mechanism, allowing Anon to take back his hand. He watched blankly as the mousetrap disappeared into the poofy curls of her mane. He then gave an experimental flex of his fingers. “Does it hurt?” Pinkie asked. “Some,” he muttered, noting the thin red line that stretched over his knuckles. “No problemo,” Pinkie said, regaining her usual pep. We’ll have that fixed up in a jiffy.” She trotted a few paces down the hallway and stopped in front of a door. “Well come on,” she said encouragingly and flung it open, gesturing inside. “Mi casa es su casa. That’s Prench for ‘come on in’.” All in all, Pinkie was proud of her room. Streamers crisscrossed round the ceiling; small, rubber glow-in-the-dark figurines hung about them, not that either Pinkie or Anon could make out them out. Save for this and maybe a few balloons that hovered about, the room was surprisingly devoid of party-themed accents. Those she reserved for her secret party cave. Well, maybe not so secret anymore. “So? What do you think?” she eagerly asked Anon, who cast an appraising glance. “It’s... normal?” Pinkie snorted. Why did everypony keep saying that? She wasn’t that party crazed. Usually. Some of the time. She jumped, limbs spread out onto her soft bed, sighing in contentment. She looked to Anon and, smiling, patted the empty spot next to her. “Come on,” she said playfully. “We can’t have fun if you’re all the way over there.” “R-right,” he said, rubbing at the back of his head. Pinkie watched him like a hawk eyeing up a particularly tasty critter and no sooner did he take a seat that she pounced on him. She giggled as she pinned his back to the mattress, and the way his hands reflexively grabbed on to her sides; those fingers of his unintentionally tickling her ribs. Her heart beat a mile a minute and the heat returned to her face. Her marehood too. She could feel it wink in reflex, aching for a stall... er, human’s touch. She’d only ever been with stallions (and the occasional mare when the urge got too bad) and this new exotic partner left her giddy and excited to see how different (or similar) the experience would be. She leaned in, eager to taste him again, but then stopped. Something washed over Anon’s features—a fleeting thing, but Pinkie sensed... hesitation? “Something wrong?” she asked. “N-no. No,” he said unconvincingly. “Just, uh...” His face flushed. He cleared his throat. “Just, you know. Haven’t been with a mare before.” Pinkie frowned, cocking her head. “Huh? But... didn’t you and Rarity...” He gave her an abridged version of the events at Carousel Boutique. “Oof,” Pinkie oof’d, wincing in sympathy. “Yeah, I do not envy her right now.” Anon chuckled humorlessly. “Well, maybe you could cheer her up. Throw her a small party or something.” Pinkie hummed, tapping a hoof to her chin. “I don’t think a party’s gonna cut it.” She looked down to Anon with a sly smile. “No, I think what she needs is a good...” Anon tensed as the frog of her hoof settled over his dick. “Hard...” She lightly stroked it and kissed him again, pushing her tongue past his lips. She felt him stiffen beneath her hoof and broke the heated kiss. “Dicking,” she whispered huskily. “So,” he gulped. “So you don’t mind? It’s not... weird for you or anything?” “What? That I’m your first pony?” She giggled. “Of course not, silly! It makes this a special occasion. And you know what that means.” "A... party?” “Yep, yep! Or... well, actually, no. It means I’ll have to show you an extra special, super-duper doozy of a time. Oh?” She glanced to her hoof, which hadn’t stopped stroking his covered dick. “Well,” she chuckled. “I know somepony who wants some attention.” Already she could see a bulge straining against the fabric of his pants. It looked uncomfortable. She never really understood his obsession with wearing clothes. Sure, she’d dress up for special occasions and was awfully fond of her Gala getup. It still couldn't hold a candle to going au naturel and feeling the soft breeze and solid earth on her body. She stroked him idly, watching as it twitched now and then, straining to break free. Curious, she leaned in and touched her nose to it, taking in his alien musk. Tasty. She looked to Anon, whose face was flushed. She’d wager she looked about the same. She pressed her lips to it, giving it a long, languid kiss, nostrils flaring as she puffed out hot little bursts of air. Anon groaned. Little Anon twitched. Maybe not so little, she mused. She could practically feel it growing larger, harder, against her lips. Pinkie smirked. He had such fun reactions. Maybe she’d tease him a bit more. Get his blood hot and raring to go. Leaning down a bit lower, just past its base, she opened her mouth and molded her lips around it, cradling his foal makers in the hot confines of her mouth. Anon’s fists clenched. He leaned back and let out a long, low groan. Pinkie sucked on them lightly—hoof still stroking him all the while—using her lips to caress them even outside their cloth prison. At least they felt normal, she thought wryly, more or less expecting a toss-up between that or something more... alieny. Either way, it sent his potent musk into overdrive, and being at ground zero herself, Pinkie’s body and marehood grew hotter in tandem. “Pinkie,” he groaned, placing a hand atop her head. She looked up. “’O ‘oog?” she said thickly, mouth still on his balls. “No, no,” he said rapidly. “It’s good. Just, um...” Now that she backed off a bit, she could see the problem. His stallionhood strained painfully against the fabric of his pants. Pinkie stared, mesmerized. Granted, she couldn’t exactly tell with it being covered up, but she’d swear it almost... doubled in size. Her lips spread into a toothy grin as she looked up to Anon. “Aww,” she cooed, petting it lightly with the frog of her hoof. “Does Little Anon want to come out to play?” Big Anon grimaced. “Please don’t call it that.” “No? Hm. Okie dokie, then. Let’s see if I can come up with something better.” “That... that really isn’t—” “Shh,” she shushed softly, lips puckered and trailed off as she bent down to give his crotch a quick peck. “Just sit back and watch.” Anon stared as Pinkie hopped off, moving to the foot of the bed. Propped up on her hind legs, she grabbed onto both of his legs or rather, the fabric of his pants, just above the ankle. Her muzzle crinkled in concentration, and the tip of her tongue poked out the corner of her lip. She gave a few experimental tugs. “Doesn’t work that way, Pinkie,” Anon said, equal parts amused and bemused. “Shush,” she shushed again. “Concentrating.” She gave the fabric a few more tugs, varying in force and length. She nodded to herself, seemingly satisfied, and with a smug little smile, looked up to Anon. “And for my next party trick...” She tugged the fabric upward and with a smooth, swift motion—reminiscent of a fancy waiter pulling a tablecloth clean off a table in one stroke—completely yanked his pants off his body... socks and shoes included! “Woo-hoo!” she cheered, pumping her hoof in triumph. “Still got it!” Perhaps she celebrated too early, for upon glancing to her immediate right, she could see Anon’s one remaining sock still fastened to his foot. “P-Pinkie!” a befuddled Anon squawked, reflexively using his hands to cover up his junk. “What... how did you...” “I’m a mare of many talents,” she said smoothly. “B-but... but how did...” She hopped back onto the bed. “Do you really want to know, Nonon? Do you?” She placed her hoof over his hands. “Or, do you want to see where this goes?” He hesitated. “Fine, fine. But, uh...” He flushed, concerningly so. Pinkie cocked her head, her smile fading. “What’s the matter?” Anon fidgeted. He had a hard time meeting her eyes. “It’s not gonna... look like what you’re used to. Down there. L-like a stallion, I mean.” “Well... yeah. I kinda figured.” “Right, right,” Anon muttered. “And you’re not gonna...?” “What?” He sighed. “You’re not gonna laugh or... freak out or anything. Right?” Now Pinkie got the gist. Stallions could be surprisingly sensitive about their dicks. She never really understood why. And now it looked like human males were not too different in that regard. “Anon,” she said, not unkindly. “I promise I won’t laugh. Or freak out.” When he still didn’t look totally convinced, she recited, “Cross my heart, hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye.” Indeed, she even mashed a cupcake onto her (closed) eyelid to drive the point home. Anon chuckled at her antics. “Alright, fine. Just... don’t do... this again. You gotta warn a guy before you strip him.” Pinkie chuckled bashfully; her ears splayed back. She still didn’t understand his obsession with clothes, but now with hindsight, and given his reactions so far... well, it seemed he was a bit uncomfortable with nudity. How... weird. “Okie dokie lokie,” she acquiesced. “I’ll be sure to ask you well and proper next time.” “That is all I ask.” Pinkie smiled. “Hey, Anon?” “Hm?” She placed her hoof over his still covered dick. “Can your little friend come out to play?” Anon burst out laughing. “Haah,” he sighed. “Sure thing, Pinkie.” Pinkie grinned and looked down, mindful to keep herself from bouncing with excitement. With some last, lingering hesitation, Anon’s hands retreated at last, granting Pinkie a good and proper eyeful of his stallionhood and... and... “Huh.” She leaned in, closer, unblinking. “It’s... it’s so...” She looked up to him. “Pink!” “...What?” “It’s so pink!” “And that’s... good?” “Good? Good?” she asked astonishingly. “It’s the bestest. Color. Ever!” Pinkie laid belly down between his legs. Her eyes sparkled as she reached out and carefully held it between her hooves. Anon shuddered as she touched the tip with her frog, gently rubbing it. Her eyes traced it up and down, as if determined to engrave every detail in her mind. “So,” Anon breathed heavily, his face flushed. “Don’t most stallions look like that? Pink, I mean.” Pinkie hummed. “Nah. It’s usually about the same color as their coats. Sometimes lighter, sometimes darker. But this... this guy...” Her eyes widened, and she suddenly gasped. “Ooh, ooh, I know! I have the perfect name for him!” Anon groaned. “Do I wanna know?” She looked up and, looking far prouder than she had any right to be, thusly proclaimed... “Mr. Pinkums!” Anon facehoov—er, palmed; groaning. “Pinkie, no. Just... no. You’re not calling it—” Anon choked on his words, tensing. Still holding it between her hooves, Pinkie stuck out her tongue, languidly trailing it up and down his shaft. With careful, deliberate motions, she stroked him with her hooves—up and down—sending shivers and tingles up Anon’s spine. Through it all, she did not break eye contact, and in them he saw a mirthful twinkle. “Oh, sorry,” she said, not sounding sorry at all. “Were you saying something?” Anon gritted his teeth. “I said... I said you’re not...” He groaned louder this time and his elbows gave out, and he tumbled backwards onto the mattress. Pinkie popped the tip inside her mouth, casually sucking and licking the head as if it were nothing more than a fleshy popsicle. “’oo hay hum’hn?” she mumbled out, stifling her giggles. Anon’s answer came in the form of heavy breathing. She focused now on the task at hoof. He tasted amazing. Foreign, yes. Exotic, yes. But also amazing! Pinkie’s legs rubbed together, the area around her marehood wet and slickened with excitement. She ached to have him inside and give her fields a deep and thorough plowing. At the same time, she took more of him in her mouth, eager—desperate—for it to stretch and fill up her throat. Tears pricked at her eyes. Her breaths came heavier, more erratic. She felt him grab fistfuls of her mane and steadily, he pushed her downward. His hips raised with the thinnest of restraints sending more and more of his meat down her throat until, finally, he bottomed out within her. Pinkie’s eyes were shut. She whimpered at the overwhelming sensations. It filled her throat to the point of discomfort, yet paradoxically, it didn’t feel like enough. Not nearly enough. She wanted more. Her nostrils flared, laboriously drawing in precious, precious air. She pulled away slowly, halting once his tip stood at the threshold of her throat and then leaned forward, swallowing him anew. It went down easier now, and at any other time, Pinkie would have been more than happy to give it a thorough once-over. But not today. She needed it inside her. Which is why she pulled out, fully this time, and took a second to compose herself. Anon propped himself up on his elbows. Pinkie imagined she looked more or less as he did; face alight with a needy blush, eyes glazed over, chest heaving as he drew breath. She stroked him again, running her hoof up and down his length, marveling at how... hard it got. Stallions didn’t get quite like this. They stiffened up to a point, and it had always been enough to get the job done. Anon’s though... already it surprised her twice. And Pinkie couldn’t help but wonder if it had any other revelations in store. She noticed now that the tip—looking as though it sported a cute, silly little helmet—somewhat changed in color. Oh certainly, it was still shaded in that lovely shade of pink (best color!) but upon closer inspection; red, almost purple tendrils threatened to creep in. To Pinkie’s discerning eye, it was in dire need of attention and some good ol’ fashioned TLC. And so she leaned in, gave it a quick, chaste smooch on the head and, smiling, said, “What’s that, Mr. Pinkums? You’re all lonely and have nopony to play with?” She squirmed slightly, her legs rubbing together. “That’s alright,” she whispered. “I know a friend who’s just dying to meet you.” Author's Note Pre-read by Pillowfight Change of plans. The chapter's being split in three parts instead of two, otherwise there'd be a longer wait. I still have a fair few things to include (clop and fluff), so you can expect the next installment to be a bit meatier. Heheh, meatier
Tickle You Pink - 3 of 4View OnlineHeat SeasonTickle You Pink - 3 of 4Pinkie Pie’s room was unusually silent. Not the usual silence, either. It was thick and heavy, and an electrical current hung in the air. As did a smell. “Haaa...” A fierce heat burned within her body, stemming from her sopping wet marehood. “Mmmph.” She gyrated her hips, backwards and forwards. The bed creaked and whined lightly with each action. “Tee hee!” She giggled as Anon’s hands brushed down her sides (unintentionally tickling her), past her Cutie Marks, and settled onto her bouncy flanks, squeezing them. “Hn-nngh...” Pinkie groaned as he now grabbed onto her hips, pulling her downward to grind harder against his dick. She leaned forward, supporting herself by placing both hooves on either side of his body. From this angle she could get a better look at the events playing out below. Anon’s dick pointed upward and to his navel, pressed against his body; held in place by Pinkie’s own glistening marehood. She gyrated back and forth again, rubbing herself across his unusually hard length. This new angle afforded her a new opportunity—to grind her rosy, pink clit into his hard, hard dick. “Ohh... oh, wow...” Pinkie moaned, pressing her muzzle to his still-clothed chest. She could feel the thundering beats of his heart. His shirt was damp with sweat and she inhaled his intoxicating scent. “Pinkie...” Anon groaned, pressing her harder down upon him. An idle hand snaked up the curve of her back and grabbed a fistful of her mane, tugging. Pinkie froze, her body tense. Warm, electric tingles coursed throughout her body and a long, squeaky whine escaped past clenched teeth. Her orgasm was small, mellow. Nothing at all like the (regretfully) few shattering climaxes she’d been lucky to experience on rare occasions. If this were to be a meal, then she’d just enjoyed a delectable appetizer; delicious and tasty in its own right, but far too paltry to satisfy a deep-seated hunger. “Well,” Anon said, stroking her back. “At least someone’s enjoying herself.” Pinkie chuckled. Her body went limp upon riding the small orgasm, and she now lay atop Anon’s warm body. “Patience,” she panted, rising again on shaky forehooves. “Is a virtue, Nonners.” He scoffed. “You’re starting to sound like Rarity.” Pinkie hummed, smirking. “I guess you would know, huh?” Anon had the grace to blush. “Alright, alright. Fair enough,” he conceded. “But, seriously though. I gotta ask. How did you... know?” At her questioning look, he continued. “You know, to make a move. To shoot your shot, after all this time.” “Oh, that’s easy. My Pinkie Sense lets me know. I get an itchy ear, tickly nose, pinchy knee and also a tingly sensation. When all those happen in that exact same order, I know I’ll be in for some fun.” “I... guess that makes sense. For you,” Anon said. He gave the impression of another question being on the tip of his tongue. Clearing his throat, he instead said, “A-and which part of you is the one that gets tingly?” Pinkie blinked rapidly. With a small smile and a giggle to complement it, she leaned back. Looking down, Anon followed her gaze, where her hot, delightfully soft pink cunny rested atop his manhood. “Oh,” he said. A smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, should’ve seen that coming.” Pinkie, who’d been biting her lip upon revealing herself to Anon, promptly dropped her facade, breaking out in pealing fits of giggles. Anon laughed along with her. “Ahh...” she sighed, glancing back down again. The two had unintentionally rubbed against each other. A spike of pleasure flared anew, returning their attention to how hot and eager the two of them were for this to continue. Pinkie rubbed herself on Anon, deliberately this time. He hardened back up to his full capacity, fingers sinking into her soft hips, pressing her harder down upon him. It dawned on Pinkie she’d never taken up this position before, at least not with stallions. Not when it came to the main event. Their dicks didn’t ‘bend’ the right way. With Anon’s unique body type, she could simply pop it in and ride him like a unicycle. And that’s precisely what she planned to do. She shuffled slightly up the bed, bringing her chest to chest with Anon. Carefully, she lifted her hips, using the narrow space between their bodies to get a good sense of the angle needed to pop in his raging hard on. Only now did Pinkie realize she’d need to reach back and guide it in, but Anon’s taller, lankier frame meant her reach fell short of the task. Luckily, he seemed to follow her intention, reaching out with his longer arm, grabbing his dick and angling it to her entrance. Well, to where he thought it was. After a few nudges from Pinkie—tracing it up and down her cunny and sending pleasant shivers up her spine—it was now properly positioned to enter her. She carefully eased down, wanting to savor the moment. Phinkie groaned softly. Anon’s dick stretched her walls, slowly plunging deeper, deeper within her depths until, finally, he at last hilted inside her. She let out a breath, sighing in contentment. Anon’s dick filled up her marehood in a manner most satisfying—a delightful combination of tight, pleasurable and maybe the slightest bit painful. She shivered from the sensation, clenching down on him. Anon groaned, twitching within her. She shivered again, and on the loop repeated for the next several beats. Looking to her lover, Pinkie noted the way his lips were drawn to a thin line; to the way his eyes were shut tight, his face a mask of concentration. She’d seen this look before on stallions; a valiant (if sometimes futile) attempt to not cum right then and there. She’d have to pace herself going forward if she wanted to properly enjoy her first rut with the human. The first of many, hopefully. Huh... Only now did she realize her unique position in Equestrian history—the first ever pony to lay with an alien. I wonder if this calls for a medal of some sort. Probably not. Though maybe if she asked, Anon would give her a piping-hot pearl necklace... No, of course not. That’d be silly. Whatever cum he had to give should obviously go somewhere inside her. She briefly toyed with the idea of taking his load deep down her throat, but... no. She’d much rather he fill up her aching marehood. “Haa,” Pinkie sighed. She’d shifted her hips, leaning forward a bit, plunging a bit deeper down his length. For his part, Anon seemed eager to get started. He grabbed onto her legs, right atop her Cutie Marks, and slightly lifted her up. Pinkie clenched down on him, her marehood squeezing him, as though refusing to let him leave. With another steady, deliberate motion, he eased Pinkie back down; his own hips thrusting upward to hilt himself even deeper within her. Pinkie moaned, shivering. While the position itself may have been novel to her, she still had a good grasp on knowledge of the bedroom. Following Anon’s example, she leaned forward a bit, supporting herself by placing both hooves on his chest. She mirrored his actions, lifting her hips. Her marehood greedily clamped down on him, eager to be filled up anew. Concentrating, Pinkie continued to lift her hips, more and more, until only the tip remained inside and, with one steady (albeit slightly clumsy) motion, eased herself down, plunging him deep inside her. They settled into a rhythm. Pinkie quickly realized this new position afforded her a high measure of control. Seeing as they were usually the ones topping, it was the stallions who for the most part set the pace of their encounters. But in this position, with her new partner, Pinkie took to the role with the kind of highly enthusiastic, energetic, slightly manic eagerness only she could muster. She lifted her hips, plunging back down again, her breaths coming heavier and heavier, and not just from the pleasure alone. This was hard work! Somepony like Twilight or Fluttershy would’ve definitely had a harder time with this position, but Pinkie herself was no stranger to zipping and running around town, or bouncing all over the place. The soft, supple poundage in her legs and flanks hid more than their fair share of toned muscle. Again she repeated the action, the motions themselves quickly coming easier, more efficient to her. Anon certainly seemed to appreciate her efforts. Pinkie milked him in a manner most proficient. He grabbed onto her hips, helping to lift and slam her back down. Pinkie found herself staring. He’d done away with the shirt by this point, and the exertion of their rut meant his body glistened with a thin sheen of sweat. Pinkie watched his arms, his chest; the way his musculature bulged and rippled. She breathed deeply, savoring his natural musk. She was close. Pinkie knew she should pace herself. They’d been going at it for at least a couple of minutes now, and Anon was surely at his wits end, trying not to finish then and there. Despite this, her body acted as though with a will of its own. She milked him harder; slammed her hips down, desperate to take in more of his hot, hard cock inside. Her actions grew to a fever pitch, eyes half-lidded as she bounced up and down, seemingly unable to or choosing to ignore the protests of her burning muscles. Pinkie grew hotter. She could feel the looming orgasm building, bubbling beneath the surface, held back only by a gossamer-thin veil of restraint. Her eyes were closed, her teeth bared, her muzzle crinkled in a mixture of strain and rapture; breaths coming out in shaky puffs through clenched teeth. Any trace of technique or control had well and truly left her by this point. Desperate, she slammed her hips down upon Anon, again and again. He’d lasted so long. Much longer than she anticipated. She thought for sure he’d finish long before this—before her, even. Pinkie didn’t mind the idea too much, though. Sex was nice. Almost as nice as the tired, beaming smiles on her partners’ faces once they had their fun. Pinkie hoped to see one on Anon for some time now, and given how he’d gone so long without such relief; how she’d been the one to pop his interspecies cherry, Pinkie wouldn’t begrudge him finishing before her. But he didn’t! In fact, Pinkie felt his hand retreat from her flank making a steady path straight to her marehood. His finger pressed and rubbed her bright pink clit. Pinkie’s whole body went rigid as a mass deluge of pure, rapturous bliss shot through her. She slammed her hips down one last time, her back arched. Her simmering climax burst forth like a roaring wave, shattering its flimsy veneer of restraint. It was all too much for Pinkie, and her mouth opened to the heavens to let loose a piercing, primal scream of rapture. A dazzling array of bright, flashing colors popped in her vision, like dozens of firecrackers going off at once and through it all, her body remained tense, rigid, riding out crashing wave after crashing wave of shuddering, shivering, pent-up orgasmic bliss. It was almost better than cake... no, cupcakes, even. Pinkie couldn’t be sure who came first, her or Anon, but she was definitely the last to finish. She rode out her orgasm for what felt like a small eternity, her tense, shivering body gradually relaxing with each passing wave of the climax. Things went fuzzy for a while, but she could at least make out that at some point, she plopped down atop Anon, her spent body and tired muscles twitching periodically even as she rose and fell in tandem with his breathing. She hummed in contentment as his fingers idly scratched up and down her back. “So,” His voice sounded strangely faint and far away to her ears. “How was that for you?” With more than a little effort, Pinkie shook off the exhaustion and the sudden, overwhelming urge to take a nap. She blinked blearily, looking up to Anon. With a small, dazed smile, Pinkie giggled, shuffling further up his body. Cupping his face in her hooves, Pinkie promptly leaned in and shoved her tongue down his throat. Taken aback by the sudden ferocity of the messy kiss, Anon tried in vain to match her tongue with his own. When she finally pulled out (accompanied by a loud pop), Pinkie leaned in and panted next to his ear. “That. Was. Incredible.” “Better than... cupcakes?” Pinkie scoffed, affixing Anon with an unimpressed look. “It wasn’t that incredible.” In spite of herself, Pinkie broke the act, bringing a hoof up to her lips to stem the tide of giggles that spilled forth. Anon chuckled along with her. Letting out a prolonged, content, luxurious sigh, Pinkie laid back down on Anon, nuzzling the crook of his neck. Post-rutting cuddles were great. They filled Pinkie with a warm, fuzzy sort of happiness. Such a shame not every stallion was into them. Luckily for Pinkie, Anon gladly indulged her. Her eyes fluttered and she groaned happily as those nimble fingers of his scratched behind her ear, and bit down her giggles as with his other hand trailed the sides of her belly. It didn’t get much better than this, she thought idly. A hard, thorough rutting and a warm body to snuggle and keep her company, however briefly. He’d surely want to leave soon, as stallions always did. But Pinkie couldn’t complain. Hay, she’d probably even indulge in a short power nap after this. How long had it been since she even took a nap? She couldn’t remember, but it had definitely been a while. Regardless, she decided to enjoy the moment and yet... yet something was missing. But what? Pinkie’s brow knitted in thought. Unable to come up with anything, she pushed away the thought, and her musings shifted to more mundane matters—to what she’d have to do once Anon left. Not much, actually. She’d have to go down to the kitchen at some point and prep a few things for the shop’s late opening tomorrow. Other than that, she had the whole day to do as she pleased. Of course, before any of that happened (and once Anon left) she’d have to freshen up a bit and clean his spunk out of her... Wait a minute... Pinkie squeezed her back legs together. Anon had slipped out of her marehood at some point and now that she thought about it, she hadn’t felt him cum inside her. Frowning, she lifted herself up (her back end wobbling slightly) and glanced down between the space of their bodies. Some of it should’ve been leaking out of her by this point but... nope. Nothing, zip, nada. As if to drive the point forward, Anon’s dick was still standing, mostly tall. Meeting Anon’s questioning gaze, Pinkie said, “You didn’t finish?” Anon hesitated at the near accusatory tone. “Uh, no?” Pinkie opened her mouth, closed it. Then again. “Why?” Before he could answer, Pinkie reached into her mane and pulled out an orange, ticking clock; then peered at it closely. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Placing it back where she found it, Pinkie looked down at Anon, her features unusually blank. “Anon?” “...Yeah?” “We did it for four minutes.” “Uhh... cool?” Pinkie shook her head. “You lasted four minutes.” “Again... cool?” “Four. Minutes.” Before he could answer, Pinkie cut him off. “And you didn’t cum.” “I mean...” “Didn’t you like it? Wasn’t it good for you? If you tell me what you like we can try again.” A look of dawning realization settled over Anon, and he held up a hand. “Hang on, hang on,” he said. “Pinkie, you didn’t do anything wrong. Just the opposite, actually. You were great.” “So why didn’t you...” Anon rubbed the back of his head, smiling ruefully. “Well, you know,” he waved his hand vaguely. “I did have that thing with Rarity earlier today.” She cocked her head, frowning. “So?” Anon seemed to be at a loss for words. “So I’m not sure how things work here,” he said slowly, weighing his words. “But usually, after a man cums for the first time, he can last longer the second time around. Y-you know, assuming they both happen around the same time.” “Uh-huh, uh-huh,” Pinkie muttered. “What’s a man?” “...What?” “Man. What is that?” “Uh... me?” “I thought you’re a human.” Anon snorted, chuckling. “Man’s the term for a human male. You know, like stallion for a male pony.” “Oh.” Pinkie’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Ohhh...” With this new information, she replayed in her mind the given information. “So it’s not that you didn’t like it. Right?” “Right.” Pinkie gulped. “So... so you’re saying...” It couldn’t possibly be that, could it? It almost sounded too good to be true. “You’re saying that... it was over too soon.” Anon smiled apologetically. “Kinda.” Pinkie nodded, digesting the new information. “Anon?” “Hm?” “How long do mans usually last?” Anon chuckled. “Men, Pinkie. Man for singular, men for plural. And... I really can’t give you a straight answer. It’s all over the place. Some guys are quick shots; they last maybe a minute. Others can go as much as thirty, maybe more.” He took a moment to enjoy Pinkie’s choked, sputtering noises. “The majority of men are somewhere in between, though I'd bet most don’t break past the ten-minute mark.” Pinkie reached up with a shaky hoof to wipe the beaded sweat from her brow. “S-so, um, how long do you usually last?” “No idea.” “Huh?” He shrugged. “Well, it has been a while. I might last longer than I did before or maybe less. I’d have to conduct a series of, uh, tests to give you a proper answer.” Pinkie blinked, momentarily confused. Then the gears in her brain clanked and turned as she fully processed the meaning of his words. Glancing back, she noted the way Mr. Pinkums, who’d looked a bit droopy not moments ago, steadily hardened back to its full glory. She inhaled. Anon’s musk, though mellowed out since her shattering climax, increased in potency. With his hands he stroked her legs, right beneath her Cutie Marks. Momentarily thinking she’d gone into some kind of orgasmically induced coma, Pinkie nearly slapped herself with her hoof. Her incipient effort was dashed when Anon rose himself to a seated position. It caused Pinkie to slide back and once again she found her cunny pressed to his dick. Still hot, still hard. And pink. “So,” Anon said. “You mind if I take it from here?” Pinkie gawped, but then mumbled, “O-okie dokie.” She gulped. “Lokie.” Anon chuckled. “You know, I’ve kinda wondered how it’s like for you guys. Doing it pony style. Let’s try it that way.” Still somewhat dazed, Pinkie didn’t resist when Anon turned her around, nor did she protest when he placed his hand atop her withers and (more than a bit forcefully) pushed her down onto the mattress, leaving her back half raised and proudly on display. Numbly glancing back, Pinkie watched as Anon lined himself up with her entrance, rubbing his dick around her puffy outer lips. Oh. My. GOSH! She couldn’t deny it anymore. It wasn’t a coma, nor a dream. It was real. And it was happening! “W-wait.” Anon looked up. “Hm?” “Go,” she nearly choked. “Go up. A bit.” Anon blinked in confusion. She could see a protest or a question on the tip of his tongue, but something in her eyes must have compelled him from voicing it. Wordlessly, he traced his dick up her marehood. “Higher,” she breathed. He did so again. “Higher.” The words came as a squeaky whine. Anon smirked. The tip of his dick now pressed against her puffy ponut. Pinkie bit her lip as Anon traced around it with his dick, getting it well and lubed up. “Pinkie.” His words came faint against the pounding blood in her ears. “I’m putting it in now.” She dared not breathe as Anon applied a bit of pressure, testing. His tip stretched the puckered entrance until, with near agonizing deliberation, it slowly went in. Pinkie squirmed as it steadily entered her, stretching more and more of the tight, puckered tunnel. Her marehood, so fulfilled and sated not moments ago, now winked eagerly, dripping onto her sheets. But Anon then stopped. “Pinkie,” he groaned. “You’re so tight.” She let out a small, breathy laugh, looking over her withers. “Are you sure... mmph... sure you’re not just big?” “Eh. Maybe. I don’t exactly go around looking at stallion dongs. Couldn’t tell ya.” “Trust me, Nonon,” she giggled. “You’ll make lotsa mares happy with it.” Feeling a bit daring, Pinkie tensed, squeezing his cock. Then, with not an inconsiderable application of calculated control, slammed her hips backward onto him, causing Anon to nearly fall back, and burying the full length of his hot, hard cock inside her. Pinkie nearly screamed in rapture. Anon, whose hands had been holding onto her hips, now clenched painfully. His eyes squeezed shut, his features twisted in agonizing pleasure. “Fuuuck,” he groaned in one continuous stream. “But first,” she continued, panting. “Pinkie gets her dibs.” “Oh, you little...” Anon muttered, trying (and failing) to try and get miffed at her. Bit hard to do so when he was buried balls deep inside her tight, near unbearably hot tunnel. Whatever retort must have been on the tip of his tongue went limp, then dead, fixing Pinkie instead with a reproachful look. All the better, Pinkie thought. A little motivation to get him a bit rough for the second round. “I’m gonna start now, Pinks.” As if to give her a taste for what’s to come, he grabbed her near the dock of her tail, roughly pulling her closer to him, keeping her in place. Her marehood dripped with excitement. “Wait,” she said, reaching into her mane and pulling out the orange clock from before. Shaking her head, Pinkie put it back in, rummaging until she found what she’d been looking for—a chrome-plated digital stopwatch. “Alright. Aaand...” With a beep, the stopwatch came to life, numbers running along its face. “Go!” Author's Note Change of plans. Again. I swear I'm not doing this on purpose. I keep trying to maintain the clop at a reasonable length and bring it to a satisfying conclusion, but the story kinda just says fuck you to my attempts and does what it wants So yeah. It's a four-parter now. I haven't heard any of you guys complain so I'll just assume you're okay with these piecemeal chapters. That said I'm... pretty sure next chapter will be the last. We'll see. Until next time.
Tickle You Pink - 4 of 4View OnlineHeat SeasonTickle You Pink - 4 of 4Pinkie Pie’s room was unusually silent. Not the usual kind of— “Oh! Ohhh... yes! Yes!” Or rather, it was loud and lively. “No, don’t stop! K-keep going. Just... just keep—” *SMACK!* “Ah~!” “Good ponies,” Anon half growled, half panted; pistoning back and forth. “Stay silent.” He slapped her bouncy flank again, and again Pinkie squealed in turn. “Are you...” he panted. “A good pony?” Her forehead pressed against the mattress, Pinkie nodded as best she could. “Anooonnn,” she whined pitifully, only to receive another hard slap that jiggled her flank, leaving it a vibrant red, and sending spikes of burning ecstasy throughout her body. Pinkie bit her lip. She bit so hard it near drew blood. The mere effort to stay silent—to not voice and scream the sinful, carnal delights Anon and his rock-hard dick (and hands) granted with such seemingly little effort—proved a monumental task in itself. Even watching paint dry had been easier than this! Regardless, Pinkie persevered. Screams and squeals and moans of delight were ruthlessly stamped down, as were shrills and shrieks and yelps so abrupt whenever he slapped her tender flanks. She promptly shoved a hoof in her mouth and bit down, so dire was her need. Totally worth it. Anon pounded her plot with such need, such ferocity she’d never experienced from a stallion. She’d even saved up her bits on a few special occasions to afford the services of high-class studs. None of them compared to Anon and this new, fierce hunger that for all this time, simmered beneath the surface. Again and again he slammed his rock-hard dick against her jiggling plot. Pinkie’s mind felt like mush. She realized at some point her body went limp, entirely held aloft by Anon; one hand gripping near the dock of her tail, the other supporting her underbelly, just above her teats as he pistoned back and forth. His musk, overpowering, filled her senses. Sweat dripped from his forehead, a trace of strain on his features as he held her aloft, rutted her senseless, and maintained his balance at the same time. He was close. Pinkie could feel it. She was too. She reined in her climax, waiting for the right moment. Already she could tell, it would be a doozy—no, a doozy of a doozy. Anon’s pace increased, growing faster, desperate. More urgent. At last the moment arrived. She could practically taste it. As if to validate her, Anon paused his relentless pounding. His hands wrapped around her hips with a vise-like grip. He thrust into her once, sending ripples across her flanks. He thrust again, pulling her against him; her hooves left the mattress. Pinkie’s marehood winked, drooling with arousal. She held her breath as Anon nearly pulled out, leaving but the tip inside her tight, needy tunnel and at long last, with one final, culminating, titanic thrust, buried himself anew. A rumbling, guttural growl rumbled from his throat as he climaxed. His cock twitched once before firing. Load after load of white-hot cum pumped forth, filling up Pinkie to the brim with potent seed. She let loose her own climax. Her mouth, muffled by the mattress beneath it, unleashed a piercing squeal, turned scream. Her marehood winked in desperation, trying in vain to seize a nonexistent dick even as it released a small torrent of marely nectar. If Pinkie’s first orgasm had been shattering, this one was nothing less than ruinous. The orgasmic release, so intense, filled her vision with white. The outside world grew dim, blurry, barely perceptible beyond the hazy veil of carnal release. She didn’t see so much as feel Anon’s body fall limp beside her. Even forming a coherent thought was a task unto itself. She twitched sporadically, riding out the waves of her orgasm; progressively growing gentler, more mellow. Despite all this, even counting Anon’s less than gentle treatment of her, Pinkie felt like a million bits. Not in a thousand years did she imagine being in this position, thoroughly rutted to completion not once, but twice in quick succession. It’s the kind of unattainable dream scenario many a mare would reserve for only her wildest fantasies, yet here she was. Living the dream. It truly didn’t get better than this. She felt Anon’s hand snake around her side. Lethargically, he turned her to that she lay face-up. How nice of him. She’d have done it herself, had her body not felt like a big lead weight. She breathed long and deep, as did Anon, content to bask in the afterglow and enjoy the other’s company. “Anon?” “Hm?” “You rut pretty good.” He laughed. “You’re not too bad yourself, Pinks.” He wrapped one arm around her, pulling her in close. Pinkie leaned in, snuggling into the half embrace. “Hey Anon?” “Yeah?” “That was the best lay of my life.” He laughed again and held her closer still. “Best lay of your life so far.” Pinkie giggled, closing her eyes as he languidly traced his nails back and forth from her temple. “I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “Just don’t forget me once you’ve had fun with other mares.” The heavenly sensations of his nails stopped. He glanced down at her. “What?” he said cautiously. “Well,” Pinkie hesitated. “You liked it, didn’t you? Being with me?” “Yeah?” “And... would you like to do it again sometime?” “Obviously.” “So there,” she said simply. “You’ll probably want to try other mares, so just come on over when you feel like having fun.” A sly smile. “So who is it, huh? I mean, you probably want to go back and try your luck with Rarity. You know, once there’s no foals to walk in on ya,” she chortled. “I’m sure she’d like you to.” Pinkie’s smile faded as something shifted in Anon’s face. “What is it?” “Are you...” he looked away, clearing his throat. “S-sorry. It’s just... I knew things were different here but... I mean, wow.” He looked somewhat uneased, rubbing the back of his head. “You don’t see this type of thing back home—a girl trying to set you up with her friend after the two of have finished... well.” He gestured broadly with his hand. “That different, huh?” “You have no idea.” Anon muttered. “And... you really don’t mind? At all?” At Pinkie’s questioning look, he continued. “Setting me up with Rarity, I mean?” “Well, no. Why would I? She’s a great friend. She’s nice and generous and she’ll treat you good if you give her a chance, and... and...” Her eyes widened in realization. “Ohh. Yeah, I guess you wouldn’t know.” “Know what?” “Well,” Pinkie said, adopting an unusually thoughtful look. “You know how there’s not that many stallions around?” Anon nodded. “Usually, once a mare and a stallion have had their fun, she’ll try to introduce him to a friend. You know, so they can all get a turn.” “You mean like a herd?” Pinkie shook her head. “Well, no. Herds are serious business. This is more like, uh... fun. Casual fun. The mares try to show the stallion a good time. That way, you know, hopefully he’ll want to go back and do it with them again, even if he goes and tries other mares in the meantime.” “Jesus,” Anon muttered, a dazed, faraway look in his eye. “I’m really not in Kansas anymore...” He kept staring off into the distance. Pinkie had the presence of mind to let him have it. The information took him aback for some reason. “So,” she said eventually. “Don’t the humans do it like that? Like us ponies?” He shrugged. “Some probably do. There’s, uh, something for almost everyone, last I knew, but monogamy is the norm. One and only one partner only. This kind of... sharing and stuff is kind of on the fringes. Most would look at you weird for doing it. It’s not considered, uh, normal, I guess.” Pinkie had a hard time wrapping her head around it. How were humans supposed to find a good, reliable sexual partner by limiting themselves like that? How odd. “And you?” she said. “Do you... think you’ll try it like us? Like ponies? Or is that too weird?” Anon looked uncomfortable. “It’s... strange... ah, no offense. But, if that’s normal for you guys,” he said slowly. “And if you’re really okay with it, I... guess I could give it a try. When in Rome, you know,” he trailed off lamely. Pinkie hummed. “I wouldn’t worry.” “Oh? You know something I don’t?” Pinkie smiled. “Just a feeling, Anon. But I think you’ll do great.” They lapsed into another comfortable silence. Pinkie didn’t mind. It meant they could snuggle for a bit longer. “By the way,” Anon said. “Rarity said something. About stallions?” Pinkie hummed. “Yeah? What of it?” “That they can go twice a day at most. Is that actually true?” “Kinda, yeah.” “And mares? How many rounds can you guys—er, ladies, go for? Before you’re done for good.” With a wistful sigh, Pinkie said, “When I find out, Anon, I’ll let you know.” ‘When’. Fat chance. Still, a mare could dream. Anon pulled her a bit closer to him. Pinkie closed her eyes, resting her cheek against his shoulder. His hand made a steady course down her belly, to her teats, cupping the soft, ample mounds. He took one of her perky pink nubs, lightly pulling and pressing it between his fingers. Pinkie groaned softly, nuzzling her cheek onto the smooth skin of his shoulder. Part of her knew she should probably stop him. Were this to continue, he’d just get her hot and ready to go again. It should... probably be okay. She could just use one of her toys once he left. But stop he didn’t. In fact, he moved on from her teats, fingers trailing lower, lower, until they grazed the outer lips of her glistening marehood. Pinkie gulped. Opening her eyes, she looked to Anon. “Anon?” she said, a bit uncertain. “Want to find out?” “H-huh?” “What we were talking about, just now. Want to find out?” She blinked rapidly and upon connecting the dots, Pinkie’s jaw went slack. “I mean,” Anon continued. “I’ll need some more time to get ready, but until then...” Pinkie’s breath hitched as he slipped two fingers inside. “I can probably squeeze one out of you. If you want to keep going.” Pinkie gulped. “O-okay.” Pinkie’s legs bucked in reflex, nearly taking Anon’s head off. “O-oh! Ohmygosh, I... N-nnnngh!” Her back arched, head pressed hard against the mattress, legs kicking to the air, it was all Pinkie could do to keep her words straight. “Anon,” she half-panted, half-whined. “I... I don’t know what you’re doing but... oh, yesss~... jus-just keep doing it!” He pumped his fingers in and out of her tight, dripping marehood. He did things with them Pinkie didn’t think were possible, touched her in ways she hadn’t even fathomed before today, and when they rubbed a certain spot inside her, Pinkie swore her mind melted from the sensation alone, sending jagged, searing bolts of near painful pleasure that seized and spasmed her body. When her climax came, it came hard, leaving Pinkie little more than a twitching, quivering lump atop the sheets, her heart hammering against her ribcage, chest heaving as she greedily inhaled great gulps of air. So out of it was she, she barely even registered Anon grabbing onto her hind legs, lifting them high in the air. Shakily, she lifted her head, watching awestruck as he lined his raging hard-on with her marehood. With one smooth thrust, Anon buried himself within her depths. The following minutes were a blur to Pinkie. Thoughts became difficult, her mind swimming in a thick, muggy soup of lust and pleasure. Her marehood eagerly took to the attention, soaking the sheets beneath it, climaxing once, twice, and once Anon finished, clenched itself around him, greedily taking load after load of his hot seed. Pinkie might have passed out. Who knows. Things kind of went blank for a bit, but next she knew and after some time, Anon shakily sat up. “You still there, Pinkie?” She mumbled something. Anon chuckled. “God, we made a mess, didn’t we? Sorry about that. And, uh, your bedsheets.” She’d have to take his word for it. Indeed, things kind of felt... damp beneath her. “We’re all sticky, too,” Anon muttered, looking down. “I think we could both use a shower.” “That,” she breathed. “Sounds great.” With more than a little effort, she slipped off the bed, plopping unceremoniously to the wooden floor. “Um, Anon?” “Yeah?” Gingerly, she tried to stand on all fours, holding the position for a moment. That is, until her back half sort of wobbled and fell limp behind her. “I may need some help.” Chuckling, Anon reached down to her. “Way ahead of you, Pinks.” The water in the bathtub lapped gently along with the movements of its occupants. No other sounds echoed in the modest room, save for the breathing of human and pony. “Anon.” “Hm?” “We’re supposed to be getting clean.” He shrugged. “Well. It’s not my fault you’re irresistible.” Pinkie smiled despite herself, leaning against him; her hooves draped atop his shoulders for support. Anon’s hands cupped her flanks. He eased her down, plunging his dick within the warm confines of her marehood. “What if we make a mess?” “We won’t make one,” he said. “Not if we’re careful.” Pinkie sighed as he lifted and eased her down again. His motions were deliberate. Steady. The water lapped gently around them. He’d been a bit surprised at the unusually large bathtub that dominated the room. Pinkie had been too, the first time she saw it. She suspected the Cakes built it this way for when they wanted to get more... intimate. Still, it was big enough that the two of them fit comfortably inside it, even considering Anon’s larger, taller build. Again he lifted her and eased her down his dick. Unlike their recent, rough, spirited ruts, this one proved slow, methodical. Not without its appeal. No screams or squeals from Pinkie; no heavy pants or lustful growls from Anon. Soft groans and moaning echoed in the otherwise silent room. The water splished and splashed with a tad more vigor, not quite spilling out the rim of the tub. A warm blush crept up Pinkie’s cheeks. She noted their position was curiously intimate; their bodies, both her and Anon’s, pressed against each other. Another advantage of his unique body type, she thought idly. Doing this with a stallion would be trickier. Still, it was new and exciting in its own way. Her climax, as with their lovemaking, came mellow. Gentle. She pressed her head further into his chest, her grip on his shoulders tightened; but other than a prolonged, satisfied sigh from her—as well as a slight tremor that shook her body, Pinkie made no other indication of her small orgasm. Likewise, Anon tensed. He hugged her snugly to his chest and she vaguely felt him finish inside her. The water in the bathtub gradually calmed, not quite stilling, as both occupants caught their breath. “Okie dokie, then,” Pinkie said. “Now we really should clean up.” She looked down, noting that Anon slipped out of her. Likewise, some of his spunk leaked out her marehood. “And, um, maybe change the water too.” “So,” Anon said once they were back in Pinkie’s room. “Did you have any plans for today?” Pinkie barely heard him. The two sat on the plush carpet at the foot of her bed. He’d taken it upon himself to towel off her mane, essentially giving her an impromptu scalp massage. Even with the towel to act as a barrier between her and his fingers, he still somehow managed to fill her with a warm case of the fuzzies. “Huh?” she mumbled, her eyes closed, and lips stretched to a small, blissful smile. “Plans,” he said more clearly. “Did you have any?” “Hmm, not really.” With her smile morphing into a sly smirk, Pinkie half turned to regard him from the corner of her eye. “Why?” “We’re still not done here, remember? Unless... you’ve hit your limit for today.” Pinkie nearly laughed. She’d never seen this aggressive, horny side to him before today. She rather liked it. “I dunno.” She slid a hoof past the folds of his own towel, lightly fondling his man meat. “Your little friend’s kinda pooped, don’tcha think?” Anon muttered something about not being able to help it. “Buuuut,” Pinkie said thoughtfully. “If you’re really super-duper serious about this—” “Yep.” “—and if you really, really want to keep this going...” She pulled the towel off her still damp mane and reached into the wild mass of pink curls. She retrieved a crystal-clear potion vial, small enough to hold maybe two ounces of liquid, tightly sealed with a cork. Contained within it was a curious concoction, colored a vivid, nigh unnaturally bright orange hue. “What is it?” Anon asked once she handed it over. “That,” Pinkie said. “Is a booster shot.” “Huh.” Anon held it up to the light. “Looks like SunnyD,” came the muttered verdict. Looking back to Pinkie, he said, “Is it safe to drink?” Pinkie shrugged. “Probably. I mean, it’s not gonna make your dick fall off, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Anon snorted. Now there’d be a sight. “So how are these things regulated? Is there a pony version of the FDA or...” he shook his head. “No, nevermind that. Uh, so how do you ponies get your hooves on these? Do you just pick them up at the store?” “Nah, you gotta special order them from an alchemist. There’s none here in Ponyville and the nearest one’s waaay up in Canterlot, so... I guess that’s where everypony gets them.” Anon hummed. “And do you need a prescription to order them?” Pinkie cocked her head, frowning. “Huh? No. Why would we? It’s not medicine. All you gotta do is mail them an order.” “And are there limits on how many you can order?” “Well, no. I mean, most everypony only gets a few. You know, just in case. Although...” She tapped a hoof to her chin. “Well, word around town is Flitter and Cloud Chaser pool their bits together to order a whooole buncha them. That they keep a closet full of the stuff! And that they buy them in bulk again when they run out. But other than that... nope.” This seemed to amuse Anon for some reason. “You don’t say.” “I do,” Pinkie said happily. “So? Whatcha think? You gonna try it?” He glanced again at the potion, regarding it thoughtfully. “Why not,” he shrugged and uncorked the vial. It came off with a loud pop. “Let’s see what happens.” He promptly brought it to his lips and threw his head back, downing the contents in one gulp. “Ah-ah-ah...” Pinkie panted. “Ah-nnn-nonnn.” He seemed not to even register his spoken name, choosing instead to pound her even further into the mattress. “My... bed,” Pinkie moaned. “Huh?” Anon growled, barely slowing down. Words did not come easily to Pinkie. She buried her head into the damp sheets. Anon’s relentless, pistoning motions had all but turned her insides to mush. “You’re gonna... ah-ahhh~... you’re gonna b-break my bed.” “I’ll buy you... a new one,” he panted through gritted teeth. Pinkie gave up, realizing all sense of reason had all but left him. Not a minute after he’d downed the potion, Anon rose back up to his full glory. What followed was a thrilling rollercoaster of nonstop pleasure, relentless pounding and orgasms innumerable; progressing yet not quite culminating to Pinkie’s current state. Her body felt as a limp noodle, one that could do little but loosely flop about as Anon thundered back and forth. The small part of her brain still capable of intelligent thought wondered how it came to this. Booster shots did as their namesake suggested. It coaxed stallions out of their sheaths, inciting in them a modest surge of want to get them ready and raring for a second (or even third) round in the sheets. Safe to say, Anon completely blew her expectations. He brought her to climax time and again, as to himself, and just... kept... going; drawing from a seemingly inexhaustible source of energy. Indeed, Pinkie considered herself far from a neophyte between the sheets. Her previous times with stallions, though fun, usually left her wanting. Rare was the partner who successfully brought her to complete and utter satisfaction, with most unable to keep up with the seemingly boundless, eager energy she brought to the table. Not so much this time around. Whatever the potion had done to him enabled Anon to not only keep up, but outpace her completely. She gave as good as she got at first, squeezing more than her fair share of orgasms out of him. It didn’t matter. He rutted her like a stall—er, man—possessed, pausing only for a brief rest in between sessions and taking her anew. It almost became too much. Her marehood... no, her body was tired and sore all over. Some parts of her (mostly her legs and hindquarters) felt as limp and loose as buttered noodles. Other parts felt as dull and unresponsive as stone. Her last climax felt like a lifetime ago, her marehood driven to exhaustion, long since given its last. She could do little then but to merely brace herself and wait for Anon to rut himself to completion. His thrusts, while losing none of their potency, gradually slowed. His breathing grew heavier, harsher still. And still he held her by her hips, hands all but leaving a red imprint as he held them up to better plunge his cock in and out of her. And then, at long last, after what felt like the better part of the day had gone by, Anon came inside her for the last time, chest heaving, his breaths ragged. Lastly, as if to signal the end to their marathon session of lust, Pinkie’s poor, abused bed groaned, then snapped and shifted, buckling beneath them. A deep sigh of relief left Pinkie as Anon fell limp, just shy of crushing her. Slowly, laboriously, with far more effort than should have been needed, she slowly turned herself around. A small, dim part of her felt somewhat put off. Her bed—her mattress and the sheets—were damp and sticky with various fluids. More than some came from Anon, yes, but one way or another they all leaked out of her. She’d taken his load in her mouth more than once, even after he filled her holes full of seed and still the whole of her bed felt damp, just shy of being well and proper wet. She groaned. Laundry day would come early this week, it seemed, to say nothing of her poor bed. She’d gotten it for free from Flitter some years back when she first moved to Ponyville. Even then the thing was in dire need of more than a few repairs, but growing up on a farm, Pinkie was a practiced hoof at such fixer-upper type of work. Well, all of that could wait. Anon did not move, save for the rising of his back as he breathed. Pinkie contented herself to wait as she recuperated. The day had come and gone, and now only the light of the full moon illuminated the room. How nice of Luna, she thought. She made the moon big and bright tonight to the point she wouldn’t have to wait in a darkened room. Beside her, Anon shifted, fully turning to lay face up. Surprisingly and to Pinkie’s slight relief, he didn’t reach for her in an attempt for one more rut. “Well,” he said tiredly. “That was something.” Pinkie chuckled, equally as tired. She straddled him on shaky legs, looking down with a cocky smile. “So,” she panted. “Got another one in the tank?” Anon blanched. He waved a hand dismissively and turned his head, letting out a raspberry. “Oh, thank buck,” Pinie groaned, falling limp atop him. Gravity rolled her off his body and to the side. “Sorry,” Anon said. “About your bed.” “Yeah. It’s kinda broken.” Anon coughed. “I meant it, you know. Getting you a new one. Just, uh, send me the bill.” Pinkie pouted. “What? You’re not gonna help me pick one out?” Pinkie giggled as Anon stammered out a response. “Don’t worry about it, Nonon. Just as long as you help me break it in,” she finished with a wink. Anon chuckled. “Pinkie, it would be my pleasure.” The two contented themselves to enjoy the other’s company while recovering. Pinkie smacked her lips. Her mouth felt dry. Anon had squeezed every ounce of fluids left in her, and judging by the way he mirrored her actions, he too felt the same. But before that, a more pressing issue. When the two of them recovered to the point they could sit up again, they found themselves in a bit of a sticky situation. Literally. Anon grimaced as he parted his legs. The smooth skin stuck to the other at both ends, a loud, sticky sound accompanying his legs as they separated. Pinkie was much the same. “Shower?” he said. Pinkie nodded. “Shower.” They went separate this time. Not because they worried about the other trying anything, but for the simple pleasure of a hot, thorough cleaning. Anon went first, to Pinkie’s insistence. Once he was done, she went in and took her sweet time. This she did on purpose, mindful to give Anon plenty of time to leave. Instead, he surprised her yet again. Wonderful smells tickled her nose once she stepped out the bathroom. Food. Her stomach rumbled in protest. Only now did Pinkie realize she hadn’t eaten since brunch; combined with her hours-long session with Anon and she was well and truly famished. “There you are,” Anon said from the entrance to her bedroom. “Come get it while it’s hot.” Pinkie stared awestruck at the small spread before her. Two large plates, each stacked high with luscious, buttery scrambled eggs; a small mountain of crisp hash browns and a not inconsiderable pile of hay bacon; as well as a three-stack of fluffy pancakes, generously drizzled with syrup and a knob of rich butter on top, melting. Set aside was a bowl of diced fruit and a carton of orange juice; next to it, a tall glass bottle of iced milk, shimmering with condensation. “Figured I’d cook for you,” Anon said. “It’s the least I could do. You know, after your bed and... well, everything else. Dunno about you but I’m starving.” Something in her throat hitched. Pinkie stared on, dumbfounded at the delicious meal he’d splayed out along the floor. Anon fidgeted. “Too much? I, uh, I guess I should have checked with you if it was okay. Before using the kitchen and all.” “H-huh?” she shook her head, snapping out of the trance. “Oh, no. No. It’s, um, it looks super-duper good. Really.” Her front hoof scuffed back and forth along the floor. “It’s nice. You... you didn’t have to.” He shrugged. “Yeah, well. I figured out of all ponies, you’d appreciate a nice big meal.” Pinkie’s eyebrows shot up. “Anon?” “Yeah?” “Did you just call me fat?” “Of course not,” he scoffed. “You look great. Besides,” He nodded to the food. “It fills you up in all the right places.” Pinkie blushed, giggling. The food smelled great and tasted as such. For her part, Pinkie could have cleared her plate in a few seconds flat. She didn’t though. She couldn’t put it into words. Anon tackled his portion at an eager, yet more sedate pace. Pinkie found herself matching it and caught herself stealing more than a few glances at him as he ate. Today’s events took more than a few turns she hadn’t anticipated. Chewing her food, Pinkie couldn’t even properly enjoy it. She found her thoughts drifting to the man beside her. Anon wasn’t a stallion. Today certainly proved it, in more than the obvious ways. Even after all this time he... well, it seemed that more than a few aspects of Equestrian culture went over his head. Mare and stallion encounters, especially if the two weren’t an official item, were brief and to the point. Oh sure, there’d be foreplay and maybe cuddles, and the two would for the most part try to satisfy the other partner at play. But that’s as far as it went. To go further on the stallion’s part would hint at more than casual interest in the mare. It meant he thought her a prospective partner, one he’d be keen to lock down on a genuine, honest-to-goodness relationship. Anon went further than that and more. Even with the unexpected surge in lust and energy the booster shot afforded him, he’d gone above and beyond what should have been acceptable for a casual encounter. Despite the sudden, insatiable hunger, he made sure Pinkie enjoyed herself. Maybe not as much at the very end, but even so. He’d been just as eager to bring her to release. He shampooed her mane in the bath and likewise, slow, intimate sex such as in that instance was far from the norm. Fun, fast and fleeting—that was the name of the game. All Equestrian ponies knew that. Pinkie too. She hadn’t begrudged it, not given it a second thought before today, figuring she’d find an exclusive partner later down the line. Anon though, he got her thinking. Hay, how couldn’t she? He’d even gone as far as making her a fully stacked meal. No stallion had ever done that for her, for pony’ sake! Not even close. They were buddies, her and Anon. Buck buddies now, she figured. Yet throughout the day he’d acted less like that and more like a... coltfriend. The thought did not displease her. “Whew,” Anon sighed, leaning back to the bed’s buckled frame. “That hit the spot.” He patted his stomach for good measure. Pinkie too looked down at her plate and realized it was empty, along with the rest of the spread. Anon yawned. He made as if to stand up, yet now that he was fed and watered and somewhat rested, the day’s events seemed to catch up with him. Pinkie too. Her eyelids felt heavy. Her body warm, full and satisfied in more ways than one. Sore, too. “Are you going home now?” Anon nodded. “I probably should,” he said thickly, stifling another yawn. “Dunno about you, but I’m ready to crash.” As he slowly, laboriously, stood on shaky legs, Pinkie said, “Why don’t you stay the night?” Her eyes went wide, hooves nearly slamming to her mouth in shock. Did she really just say that? Inviting a single, unattached stall—whatever, to spend the night with her? She could already see the looks in her friends’ faces if they found out. Anon looked down, not at all displeased. “Really? You don’t mind?” Pinkie shook her head. Anon then chuckled. “You’re a lifesaver, Pinks. I don’t think I could have made the walk home like... well like this.” This left them with the little problem of where to sleep. They couldn’t use the bed. It was, well, not an option. Luckily, Pinkie kept a collection of blankets for all occasions. Thick, heavy comforters for those colder winter months and thinner, breathable sheets for the summer days—all colored pink, naturally, and all bundled to a mostly comfortable mass. Not nearly as comfortable as a bed, but it would do the job. Anon certainly had no complaints. He fell asleep within seconds of hitting the pillow. Pinkie’s entire body clamored for rest, yet her mind felt uneasy, thoughts coming and going by in a rush. He hadn’t balked at all at the idea of spending the night with her. She thought for sure he’d at least try and sleep in a separate room from her, yet here he was, a forehoof’s reach away. Her eyes darted up and down, all across his face. She felt a curious, tight sensation in her chest. She closed her own eyes, hoping sleep would come. Her mind paid no such importance to these matters, restless still. Time crawled on by, and Pinkie tensed as Anon’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her in close. Still asleep, she noted, unconsciously snuggling her. This was wrong. The sensation in her chest intensified. She was wrong. She should have stopped him long before this, explained how improper it had been to allow things to go this far. Anon didn’t know any better. It wasn’t fair to him—to her—to have let it reach this point. And still... Pinkie gulped. Her heart hammered in her chest. Slowly, amidst shaky breaths, she leaned in and brushed her lips to his. She inhaled as he breathed out his nose, then breathed out when he in turn took in air. Pinkie’s eyes closed, her face aflame from a deep blush. Anon likely didn’t know it, but this—this sharing of air, was one of the most intimate things a pony could do with another, reserved only for the most special of someponies. She held the position for as long as she dared, heart racing. Stupid Anon. Why? Why did he have to go and make her feel so... special? Loved, almost. It wasn’t fair. Pinkie could not say how long she held the position, but when she at last pulled away, her eyes were dazed, near unfocused; cheeks still alight in a healthy blush. She shook her head. Whatever tomorrow might bring, she knew she couldn’t allow what happened today to be repeated. Not unless Anon knew full well what his actions, knowingly or otherwise, might send to a mare. No, for the moment, Pinkie would simply act as if nothing were amiss and if Anon came back for another round of fun with her, she’d explain thoroughly what would be proper for them both. But at least, for tonight, Pinkie could allow herself to be selfish—to pretend she lay in the embrace of somepony who loved her. Author's Note Whew. Done. This whole Pinkie sequence really got away from me, ended up being twice as long than I intended. I even omitted the last part, being the aftermath and the events of the following day. Thought maybe I'd break the whole thing into five chapters instead of four but... no. I'll just work it into the following chapter. Still, this entire four-parter was super fun to write. Hope you had just as much fun reading it. Till next time.
You StinkView OnlineHeat SeasonYou StinkAnon woke to a tickling itch at his nose. Blinking his eyes open, he saw a tangled mass of pink curls. Pinkie fidgeted in her sleep, her back to him. She mumbled something or other, twitching and whatnot, making little jerking motions with her head that tickled Anon's nose further. It seemed he'd spooned her sometime during the night. He chalked up her fidgeting to a dream. Or maybe she was simply restless and full of energy even in sleep? It honestly wouldn't surprise him. Regardless, her fidgeting did not stop. In fact, it progressively grew more restless. She tossed and turned, kicking with her hind legs, brow knitted to a frown, her mutterings growing louder, but no more coherent. It got to the point he backed away so as to not get headbutted, or kicked with those hooves. Pinkie practically vibrated. It got to the point he seriously considered shaking her awake. Indeed, he reached out with a hand with the intention to do so, when the pink mare jumped into the air. Pinkie somehow held the position. Both hooves shot to her head, eyes popped open, mouth open to let out a horrified gasp. "OHMYGOSH, OHMYGOSH! I'm so late!" Without even glancing at Anon, Pinkie became a pink blur and all but flew out the door. Anon heard the stomping of hooves down the stairs. Anon stood, all traces of sleep gone now. He picked up his scattered clothes. After dressing, he trudged down the stairs and into the kitchen. Already hard at work, Pinkie moved with such speed there appeared to be three of her at any given time. “Pinkie?” Anon said, stepping inside and with nary an idea of which apparition to address. “What are you...” “No time. Here!” Next he knew, he stood before a large mixing bowl. Beside it, a cardboard box, filled to the brim with eggs; twenty dozen, according to the label. Figuring he’d best go along with it for now, Anon said, “How many do you—” “All of them!” He considered giving some bland platitudes, something along the lines of ‘everything okay?’ or ‘what’s the hurry?’. Probably not the time though. Pinkie looked harried enough as is. The clock on the nearby wall declared it a little past 6:15. Ahh, there it is. Sugarcube Corner opened late on the weekends and closed early as well. Pinkie normally operated the shop by herself on these days, being the slowest, to give the Cakes some off-time; something they desperately needed with the arrival of their twins. In exchange Pinkie largely got free rein on which days she’d be needing off, be it to throw a party, spend time with her friends, visit her family or go on some friendship adventure or the like. Figuring nothing else needed to be said, Anon got cracking. Might as well. Probably his fault she even woke up late to begin with. Pinkie was a veritable maelstrom of nervous energy, working with such speed and efficiency to put even the most hardened professional bakers to shame. The previously ordered, spotless kitchen quickly devolved into messy, organized chaos. Anon watched in astonishment as Pinkie poured a jug of cream into a bowl before taking the whisk to it; her leg becoming little more than a blur, specks of cream flying off in every direction, she whipped it up to a fluffy consistency in mere seconds. “Jeez,” Anon muttered. He pitched in where he could and at Pinkie’s direction, but she pulled the brunt of the work. After well over an hour of frantic activity, various doughs and batters came and went from the oven; frostings, icings and various toppings were all laid out on large bowls atop the counter, as were piping bags, rolling pins, cookie cutters and more. The delicious smell of buttery, fresh baked pastries saturated the room as the baked goods all rested on cooling racks. At last, an exhausted Pinkie declared they were caught up, and the shop ready to open at its designated time. “Thanks,” she panted, her coat and mane splattered with various splotches of batter, ganache, powdered sugar and frosting. “For the help.” She swallowed and breathed out, panting still. “No problem,” Anon said, his clothes in marginally better condition. Pinkie chuckled. “We just... hoo-whee... we just keep making a mess, huh?” Anon laughed. “Looks like, yeah.” He glanced at the clock again. Half an hour till opening time. “You gonna clean yourself up?” Pinkie bit her lip. “I dunno,” she mumbled. “Not sure I got the time.” She nodded to the oven. “Lotsa goods are gonna be coming out soon.” “Oh. Well, why don’t I keep an eye on it? You go and do... whatever you need to.” “Wha... really?” “Sure, why not. You can’t exactly open up the shop looking like,” he gestured with a hand. “Well, like that.” Pinkie stared at him. Anon couldn’t quite place her expression. The corner of her mouth trembled. A tiny sigh left her lips. Next he knew, Pinkie leapt up and grabbed onto him. Startled, Anon barely caught her barrel in his hands. He couldn’t get a word in edgewise as Pinkie captured his lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. “Whoa,” he muttered, dazed, once she broke it and pulled out of his grasp. “That’s some gratitude.” “That’s not gratitude,” Pinkie said, fiddling with his pants. “This is. Come on, sit.” Anon hesitated. The long, restful sleep had fully restored his energy. His dick certainly seemed to appreciate Pinkie’s attempted gesture. “Are you sure? Don’t you need to...” Pinkie shook her head bullishly. “We’ll be quick. Come on, hurry.” He needed no further prompting and sat on the floor. Pinkie pounced, undoing the button and zipper of his pants, nearly tearing the fabric as she pulled it down, exposing his manhood. He barely got a word in as Pinkie leaned forward and swallowed him whole. Anon stumbled out of Sugarcube Corner, basket in hand. Pinkie gave it to him not moments ago. “Here,” she said, presenting the basket. “I filled it up with all kinds of goodies for you to eat up. It’s got donuts and fresh cinnamon rolls and little quiches, and some turnovers and I think some pie and those salted caramel cookies that you like.” She spoke a mile a minute, as there were still some things to do before the shop’s opening. No sooner did Anon take the proffered basket when Pinkie leapt up again, shoved her tongue down his throat and promptly ushered him out the back of the building. Glancing back, he saw her blow him a little kiss, waved one last time and slammed the door shut. Anon chuckled, shaking his head. Quite a character, that mare. He strolled leisurely past the mostly empty streets. Not many ponies up and about. Sundays were for rest and most of the town’s services shut down for the day. A certain pony dominated his thoughts, and the things the two of them got up to the previous day. Hell, even today Pinkie lost none of her boundless energy, thoroughly sucking him dry. Mouth like a vacuum, that one. Anon sat down in one of the many benches scattered around town, content to merely watch the ponies as they went about their business. The first of the sun’s rays had broken past the distant mountain peaks now, softly casting a dim, warm light. A particular pony caught his eye. Vinyl Scratch trotted up the street, set to pass him. Behind her and enveloped in her aura traveled a set of blocky, unwieldy cases on wheels; likely her subwoofers and other DJ equipment. She made her way down from the train station. Anon figured she likely just came back from an all-night gig in Canterlot or some other city. Her yawn and somewhat sluggish gait supported this. Can she even see in those shades? Despite the break of dawn, the streets weren’t exactly bathed in light. It didn’t seem to deter Vinyl. She didn’t even seem to register his presence, even as she slowly trotted past him. He yawned and stretched; his arms up high to work last traces of sleep from him. A gentle breeze blew then, barely perceptible to the stretching Anon. Across the distance and slightly ahead of him, Vinyl halted in her tracks. She stared slightly upward, her head cocked to the side. She looked left, then right and locked eyes with Anon. At least he assumed so. He couldn’t tell with those shades. As if reading his mind, Vinyl pulled them upward. The two stared at each other. Surprise and something else he couldn't quite place lined her muzzle. Anon slowly raised a hand, waving. Vinyl blinked and hesitantly returned the gesture; lips quirked to a small, uncertain smile. Deliberately, she adjusted her shades again and carried on, trotting ahead. She chanced one more look back at Anon and continued on her way. “Well, that was weird,” he muttered. “There you are!” A harried-looking Lyra cantered toward him. Bags lined her eyes, her mane unkempt. “Where have you been?” she demanded. “You didn’t come home last night. Bonnie and I were worried sick! Where in Tartarus did you even get to? Where... where did...” She stopped abruptly a short distance from him, as if she ran into an invisible wall. Her eyes went wide, pupils shrunk to pinpricks. Her nostrils flared once, twice, sniffing. She brought a hoof up to her nose. “Eugh, scratch that. Who did you get into? What is that? Who... who did you...?” Her eyes zeroed in on the basket and the logo on its side. “Mrs. Cake?” she said in astonishment. “...No?” Lyra’s eyes grew wider still. “Mr. Cake?” “Wha... no! It was,” Anon lowered his voice. “Pinkie. It was Pinkie Pie, okay?” “Oh. Yeah, that makes sense.” Her anger and annoyance seemingly forgotten, Lyra lowered her hoof. She regarded Anon strangely. “So, that’s where you’ve been?” He smiled wanly. “Yeah. Uh, sorry.” Lyra opened her mouth, then closed it. Still she regarded him strangely. She went over and hopped on the opposite side of the bench. Her nostrils flared again. “So,” she said. “Pinkie’s a freak, huh?” Anon snorted. “Yes, she is,” he said fondly. Lyra hummed, unsmiling. “So you’re a pair now? Are the two of you together?” “Uhh.” Anon rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t think so, no.” “Are you sure?” “...Yes?” “Are you sure you’re sure?” Before he could answer, she said. “Her scent, it’s all over you.” Anon looked taken aback. “You can tell?” “That it’s her? No. I mean,” she took another tentative sniff. “Well, I know she didn’t bring a partner. Still...” she trailed off. “You’re absolutely sure you’re not together?” Anon fidgeted. “Again, yes. Why?” “Anon,” she said tiredly. “She’s all over you. You spent the night with her. Practically marked you with her scent. How can you not smell it?” She waved a hoof. “No, nevermind that. I know you can’t pick up things with it.” “I mean, I took a shower last night. After we... you know.” Her nostrils flared again. “Not long enough,” she muttered. “And, and...” She looked down to his crotch. The zipper of his pants was open, the area around it flecked with various spots of white. “Is that frosting?” Anon hastily zipped it back up. “N-no. Just, uh...” “The two of you did something, didn’t you? Just now?” Anon cleared his throat. “She called it a thank you. For, ah, helping her in the shop.” Lyra sighed. “It’s too early for this. I... I haven’t had my sleep. I haven’t even had my coffee. And you. It’s like...” she sighed. “Of course you wouldn’t know.” She looked up at him. “And clearly Pinkie didn’t tell you.” “Tell me what?” Lyra sighed again. “I’m not doing this. Not here.” She yawned. “I need sleep. You need a shower. A long, hot shower. And... and have you just been walking around with... her scent all over you?” Anon shrugged helplessly. Lyra groaned. “Nope. Not here. We should go. You clearly need a crash course on etiquette, courtship... relationships, maybe and, and...” she closed her eyes, sighing blissfully. Anon scratched behind her ears. Lyra melted, leaning into him. “That’s cheating,” she mumbled. “Sorry,” he said. “For making you worry. I guess I kinda disappeared on you guys. In my defense, I didn’t plan on getting laid. It just sort of... happened?” “I guess I understand.” She chuckled. “Must have been nice, getting some after all this time.” “That’s one way of putting it.” Lyra hummed. “Does that mean you’re... ooh, yeah... that you’re in the market for a marefriend?” “Why? You offering?” She scoffed. “In your dreams, monkey. I’m taken. Got a wonderful, beautiful marefriend waiting for me.” Anon chuckled. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. The marefriend part. Everything happened so suddenly and, uh...” “Ahh, I see. You want to play the field. Sow your oats like all the other stallions.” Anon coughed. “L-like I said, very suddenly. Don’t want to, uh, rush into anything.” Lyra giggled. “Figures. You stallions and your ‘freedom’. Well, I guess it’s fair you get to...” Lyra froze, eyes snapped open. She pulled away from Anon’s fingers. “Anon?” “Yeah?” “You said you had some... fun with Pinkie just now, right?” “Right.” She looked to his hand, then to him. “Did you wash that thing?” “What are you talking about? Of course I, um...” he lowered it. “Oh.” “Ugh!” Lyra groaned in disgust, hopping off the bench. “Seriously, let’s go home. You need a shower with soap. Lots of soap. Hay, take a bubble bath. Use one of mine. And get that frosting off your pants.” “I said it’s not frosting,” Anon snapped. He looked away and muttered, “It’s cream cheese icing.” Lyra rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You need to get clean, ‘cause honestly?” She scrunched up her muzzle. “You stink.”
What's A Blowjob?View OnlineHeat SeasonWhat's A Blowjob?Applejack banged on the door to Carousel Boutique. “Rarity? Rarity!” She banged some more. “Rarity! You open that door right now, missy, or so help me I’ll—” “Applejack?” Rarity said, coming round the side of the building. “What’s the matter? Why are you making a... hey!” Rarity found herself forcefully turned around and pushed all the way to the back of the building. Various fabrics ruffled in the breeze, hanging from three clotheslines fastened from the boutique to the sole tree nearby. “Well, I never!” she huffed indignantly. “Don’t start with me, missy. Ya’ll have a lot to answer for.” Rarity opened her mouth, a scathing retort on the tip of her tongue. The look on Applejack’s face made her think twice. “Rares.” Applejack leaned in, looking as serious as Rarity had ever seen her. “Just what in tarnation happened yesterday?” “Y-yesterday? Well, ah, not much, honestly.” She sighed mournfully. “That is to say, I tried to entertain dear Anonymous here in the shop. Unfortunately we were, er,” Her face soured. “Interrupted.” “And?” “And what?” “And what else happened?” Rarity’s eye twitched. “N-nothing important, really. Just, ah, tinkered with some potential designs for my autumn lineup. Y-yes. Yes. That’s all that happened. That and Sweetie Belle’s little sleepover.” Regaining some of her composure, she continued. “And I must say, Applejack, I don’t much care for this boorish treatment.” “And I don’t care for your sister tellin’ little Applebloom things she’s too young t’ know.” Rarity blanched. “W-what’s that, now?” Applejack’s mouth opened, but words wouldn’t come. She closed her eyes, covering her face with a hoof. Her chest heaved as she drew a deep breath, sighing. “I walked in on her.” “Pardon?” Rarity said meekly. “Applebloom,” Applejack said, her voice dead. “She had a carrot. Big one.” She lowered her hoof, staring at Rarity dead on. “Doing things she shouldn’t.” Rarity flushed a burning red. Humiliation and anger warred for dominion within her. She spared a brief, murderous glare at the boutique. “Way Applebloom tells it—well, way she said Sweetie Belle told it first—that kind of, ah, deep throatin’ an’ stuff?” Rarity's blush, if possible, deepened; turning near purple. “It’s the kind of things grown-ups get up to. Figured the three of them could get their Cutie Marks that way.” “Wha-what?” “Cutie Marks. ‘Grown-up' Cutie Marks.” “B-but... tha... there’s no such thing!” “No. Kiddin’.” Rarity bit her lip. She bit so hard she nearly drew blood. A small, high-pitched whine of despair left her lips. Everything spilled out in a rush. She gave Applejack a brief account of what transpired at the boutique, stopping at the moment Sweetie Belle walked in on them, so as to preserve a sliver of her dignity. “She wasn’t supposed to tell,” she said desperately. “Sweetie Belle was supposed to keep it secret!” “Well, she didn’t,” Applejack said unsympathetically. “And ‘cause o’ that, I had to explain to Applebloom how stallions don’t normally,” her muzzle scrunched up. “Pee in mares’ mouths.” As a general rule, ponies did not normally die from embarrassment alone. Rarity bemoaned this. At least then her suffering would end. “I, um,” she gulped. Her throat felt dry. “I don’t know what to say.” Applejack sighed. “Yer not makin’ it easy, you know. Staying mad at you.” “Applejack, darling,” Rarity implored. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else I can say except—” Applejack waved a hoof. “Aw, shucks. T’wasn’t your fault. Not really. ‘S just,” she pursed her lips. “Not the easiest conversation, you know? To have with your sister.” Rarity laughed; a hollow, mirthless sound. “Oh, I do. Trust me, I do.” Not much needed to be said, now that the mares understood each other. Applejack bid her farewell. Rarity watched her friend trot off into the distance. She levitated a laundry basket nearby, bringing it closer. Next she used her magic to skillfully grasp the fabrics from the clotheslines and fold them into neat, ordered bundles, piling them atop the basket. She entered her house from the back door that led to the kitchen, her hooves echoing softly among the tiled floor. Upon entering the threshold to the living room, Rarity levitated the basket over to two more of its kind, where the freshly dried fabrics waited to be sorted and put away. Rarity closed her eyes, her face a mask of solemn serenity. She inhaled deeply through her nose, lips parting as she let the breath out. She stood unnaturally still for several heartbeats. Statue-like. Alas, her facade dropped, and when Rarity’s eyes opened, they were full to the brim with searing, apoplectic fury. Her teeth were bared, her tranquil face twisting to a wrathful visage of pure, undiluted rage. “SWEETIE BELLE!” Author's Note This one's not really important to the plot or story at large so I figured I'd give it its own little chapter.
Red Apple Cheeks - Part 1View OnlineHeat SeasonRed Apple Cheeks - Part 1Anon marched forward, the very picture of a man on a mission. Some of the Ponyvillians greeted him in passing, though more than a few did a double take, noses twitching as he strode on by. Not because he still had a mare’s smell on him—at least he was pretty sure—though he probably did have an oddly girly (marely?) scent about him, having spent the last hour or so soaking in a tub, colored and scented by a particularly aggressive bath bomb. He shook his head. Freaking Lyra. Despite all the hemming and hawing on how he needed a crash course on mares and courtship, he’d come fresh out of the bath to find her dead asleep, sawing logs atop the living room couch. He could have probably waited, or even shaken her awake, but the day was young and, dammit, he was still riding the high of the previous day’s glorious, hours-long rutfest. The perfect day outside beckoned and on he went. There was a spring in his step and everywhere he looked—all the things and all the colors appeared brighter, more vibrant today. The warm sun felt extra nice on his skin; the air fresher, cleaner, crisper. The otherwise normal, mundane day now had an air of jubilant promise about it—that no matter what; whether come hell or high water, everything would be just fine. All that from screwing Pinkie’s brains out. He should probably do it more often, if this were to be the aftermath. And hell, judging by the very enthusiastic ‘thank you blowjob’ she’d granted him earlier today, she’d more than be happy to take him up on it. Again he shook his head. Pinkie dwelt on his thoughts or rather, her words did. Some of the previous day’s revelations caused him to look at certain ponies—certain things they’d done—in a new light, like a big puzzle piece that had been missing from an overall picture. Combined with his near encounter with Rarity, a sort of dawning realization gradually came over him. “Rarity said we shouldn’t push it. She said you’d want to have fun when and if you were good and ready.” The words nagged at him. He’d known full well Pinkie was hiding something. He knew and didn’t give a rat’s ass what it might have been. At least not at the moment. Not when he’d been so close to getting lucky with a cute girl—er, mare, rather. Now, with the benefit of hindsight, he realized Pinkie and her close circle of friends had been getting... friendly with him as of late. He hadn’t thought about it too much. Ponies were friendly creatures after all, and he was more or less on amiable terms with all six of them. Except maybe Twilight. He still didn’t know what the deal was with that mare. He did know, however, something was afoot, and those same six ponies were at the center of it. Hell, when weren’t they at the center of it? So many zany adventures and shenanigans revolved around them, it’s like they were the main cast in a show or something. Regardless of what new plan or scheme they’d cooked up now, Anon wanted answers. He had no hard evidence, and he’d be the first to call it a gut feeling more than anything, but he’d swear he was at the center of some... well, he didn’t know. Luckily, he knew just the mare to go to for answers. Applejack blinked upon seeing an unfamiliar stallion at her kitchen table. “Uhh... howdy, stranger.” The stallion forced a tight-lipped smile and responded with a weak nod. “H-hi.” “That’s her!” Granny Smith piped up, sitting across from the stranger. “My granddaughter, the one I told you about. Applejack! Come on over and say hello to Hard Flanks.” “I-it’s actually Cart Clank.” “What’s that?” Granny Smith said, leaning over and putting a hoof to her ear. “Speak up, colt! These old ears ain’t what they used to be.” Applejack sighed. “I-I said my name is...” “Hard Flanks here’s an out o’ towner. Caught him by the train station during his first ever trip to Ponyville!” “Well, actually, the train was delayed for a few hours and...” “So I reckoned, ‘hey, why not take this handsome colt-about-town and give him a taste of the Apple family’s famous hospitality? No trip to Ponyville is complete without it.” Granny Smith peered at ‘Hard Flanks’ with an ominously cheerful smile. “So whaddaya think, young’un?” He gulped hard and said, “It’s lovely. It’s a very lovely place. Very, uh, homey.” Granny grinned. “Ours was the first family to settle these parts, don’t ya know? It’s good land. You won’t find a better place to settle down with a young, strong mare.” Cart Clank began to sweat. “Y-yes. It, uh... it sure is that.” “Applejack here’s gonna inherit the farm,” she nodded wisely. “She’ll be needing a good stallion to give her foals and help her run it. And she’s single.” Applejack had heard enough. “Granny, leave the poor stallion alone. Hard Flanks—” “Cart Clank.” “—thanks for visiting, it was nice t’ meet you.” She opened a nearby cupboard and withdrew a modest jar of zap apple jam, which she pushed onto the stallion with a muttered ‘sorry for the trouble’. “Now if ya’ll don’t mind, there’s a whole lotta chores t’ do and not enough hooves on hoof to do it.” She gestured politely for the door. Jar in mouth, Cart Clank scampered for the door, shooting Applejack a grateful nod and a muffled thanks in passing. “Now why’d ya go and do that, AJ? The colt was warming up to it!” “Well, I wasn’t.” Granny Smith shook her head. “Ya’ll gon’ die alone if ya don’t lower them highfalutin’ standards of yours.” Applejack sighed and hung her hat on a nearby rack. “Granny, we’ve been over this. It ain’t that simple. Things have changed since great-grandpappy’s time.” “Are you one of them... ohh, what’s that fancy new word everypony’s been usin’? Eh, filly fooler?” “I like stallions just fine, Granny,” she said tiredly. “But things are different now. The farm’s big. Much bigger than in your time. We’re stretched thin enough as is, so how in the hay am I supposed to start a family when I got all...” she waved a hoof. “This t’ worry about?” “That’s why ya need a stallion,” Granny insisted. “A big strapping one with strong seed who can pump ya full o’ foals.” Applejack facehooved. “Now I loved yer grandpappy, Faust rest his soul, but he hadn’t the strongest swimmers. They were weak! Ya’ll wouldn’t have known it, not with the size of the weapon tucked in that undercarriage o’ his.” “Please don’t.” “We tried all we could think of, but even the old ways didn’t help none. Heck, we even did everything in them Pony Sutra doodles that was all the rage back then.” “Granny, I’m beggin’ you.” “So we figured, hey, maybe a change of scenery will help some. So we tried in the cellar, the living room, in the kitchen... all the places. Even the roof! Eeyup, we worked the house top to bottom but even then we only had yer dear ol’ pappy t’ show for it.” She nodded sagely. “We also didn’t have them fancy doctors on demand like you young ‘uns. Did an old-fashioned home birth. Delivered him right in that same bed o’ yours.” Applejack went white. Then green. Then there came a knock at the entrance and the farmpony jumped at the opportunity. Choking down her bile, she hurried to the door and left Granny Smith to continue her meandering, vomit-inducing rant. She opened the door and saw... “Anon?” He gave her an upwards nod. “Yo. Got a minute?” “Who’s that at the door, AJ?” Granny Smith called. “It’s Anon!” she hollered back. “Anon? That the tall monkey feller? Well don’t just stand there, invite him in!” “Can’t! He, uh...” she turned to him. “Did ya need me for somethin’?” “Yeah, actually. I—” “No can do, granny!” Applejack bellowed. “He’s got business with me! We gotta, uh, go an’ hash some things out. I’ll be back later.” “Ask him if ponies and monkeys can have foals together!” Anonymous sat on a stool. He leaned over the workbench, appraising the horseshoe with a critical eye. In his hand he held an unusually small tool; a pair of nipping pliers. That is, small for pony standards. The horseshoe itself was not too dissimilar from what he’d seen on Earth, save for one single component—a sturdy rubber sleeve that encased its metallic frame. It even had tracks in the underside, similar to what one might find on a human shoe, so as to aid in traction with the ground. With his free hand he held the horseshoe in place. Carefully, he wedged the thin, flat jaws of the nipping pliers beneath the head of one of the metallic rivets. A firm squeeze on the handle and the rivet’s head popped off. He repeated this again; eight individual horseshoes with five rivets each. Once done with the full set he held up one of the horseshoes and with his free hand picked up another tool—a simple, thin metal rod and used it to push the remaining rivet pins from the rubbery confines of the horseshoe, repeating until the full set was done. Now he could free the metal frames from the worn rubber casings and into fresh new ones, fastening them with new rivet pins and used another specialized tool to hold them in place. It wasn’t hard work, just very fastidious. He glanced over at Applejack on the other side of the barn. She busied herself by inspecting various bushels of apples, picked fresh in the morning, sorting out the good ones from the bad. Tougher than a two-dollar steak, that mare. He didn’t know how she did it. Sweet Apple Acres was massive—less a charming little homegrown orchard; more a vast generational estate. The near literal breadbasket of Ponyville. He’d seen firsthand what her workload consisted of on an average day and was amazed neither the mare nor her brother collapsed from exhaustion alone. Frankly he thought her a bit of a workaholic. Hell, her worn out horseshoes were a testament to this. The rubber casings were meant to last at least five months. Applejack and her brother wore them out in mere weeks. He stole a surreptitious glance at the mare. Lightly stocky and with a sturdy frame, as was the norm for the earth ponies. He’d heard the phrase salt-of-the-earth thrown around every so often back home. He never fully knew what it meant, but damn if Applejack and her family didn’t embody it. “All finished there, partner?” Anon started a bit. Applejack regarded him expectantly, her head lightly cocked to the side. Nodding, he said, “Pretty sure. Why don’t you try it on? See how well it fits.” Applejack trotted on over. She and her brother mostly wore horseshoes on their hind legs, mainly to help with apple bucking; otherwise they’d crack and wear down their hooves without proper protection. He laid down two of the shoes atop the barn floor and backed away. Applejack maneuvered herself as best she could. Ponies here could be surprisingly light and dexterous with their bodies. Applejack was no exception. That said, she had a tricky time aligning her back hooves with the horseshoes. Not surprising. Her legs could get a bit stiff after a long bout of apple bucking. She nickered with annoyance at yet another unsuccessful attempt at donning the things. “Shucks,” she muttered. “These things are shakier than great Uncle Apple Pine on hard cider season.” Anon seized the opportunity. “Here, let me help you.” Already he could see the retort on Applejack’s face, swift and ready to shoot the suggestion down. Surprisingly, she scrunched up her muzzle and instead muttered, “Alright, then.” Anon barely masked his surprise. Applejack was a prideful mare; this he’d learned long ago. Not the type to accept help easily. It could be a battle in itself to get her to do so. Still, he eased off the stool, knelt down at her side and plucked one of the horseshoes off the floor. Applejack half lifted her leg. He grabbed onto the wall of her hoof and lifted it higher, adjusting it so the bottom of her hoof faced upward. She took good care of it, all things considered. A bit chipped in places, with considerable signs of wear. A thin layer of peach fuzz covered the frog; it looked plump and soft. He resisted the urge to poke it. He fastened the shoe as well as he could and it stayed in place by use of whatever weird pony magic allowed them to grab onto things. Applejack turned and allowed him to repeat the task with the remaining hoof. Once done, Anon stood and took a step back. Applejack took some steps, humming appreciatively. She neared one of the support pillars and gave it an experimental buck. “Whoo,” she said approvingly. “I’d reckon them’s a good fit. Thanks again, partner.” She made to tip her hat in gratitude, momentarily forgetting she’d left it back in her house. She promptly let the shoes fall and picked them up with her teeth, placing them atop the workbench. “Say, how’s that contraption of yours coming along?” She said, gesturing for the assortment of gears, chains and metal tubes awkwardly assembled by the wall near the workbench. Anon suppressed a sigh. “Progress is... ongoing.” “That well, huh? How many times have ya taken a crack at it?” “Dozens, easily. I dunno. I lost count some time ago.” Applejack hummed. “Well, ain’t my business to tell you your business but... shouldn’t you give it up by now? Move on to other things?” “I probably should, yes.” “But you ain’t gonna?” “Nope.” She hummed again. “I’m probably the last pony who should be saying this, but aren’t ya bein’ a mite stubborn?” “I’d like to think of it as persistent—no, enterprising. Besides, the end result will be well worth it.” Applejack gave the pile of junk another once over. “I don’t see it. What’s so important about this... this, uh, whatchamacallit?” “Bicycle, AJ. Or bike, either’s fine.” “Still. Why’d ya need it to get around? Nothing wrong with good old-fashioned horsepower.” She half raised her leg for good measure. “Never said there was. Besides, you ponies have four legs to help you along. I don’t. This helps even the playing field. It’ll help me get to places faster.” Applejack cocked her head. “Why’d ya need to go faster? You in a hurry or somethin’?” “Well, no. But... how can I put this? It’s... convenient?” “Convenient?” “My world runs on convenience. And having a bike is just, well, convenient to have. Once I figure out how to actually build one.” “If you say so,” she said simply and left it at that, as she often did when unable to grasp a concept of his world or his people’s ways. Anon watched as she took the assorted horseshoes off the bench and hung them in sets over two nails near the barn’s entrance. “Have you tried asking Pinkie Pie to lend a hoof?” Anon looked surprised, but shook his head. “I think I remember seeing her in some kinda, uhh... flying doohickey.” She nodded to the assorted pile of parts Anon had been working on. “Kinda looked like that, if I remember correctly.” To Anon’s credit, he didn’t look too surprised, long since used to Pinkie’s proclivities for the random and bizarre. “I’ll be sure to do that.” He considered his next action for a moment and took the plunge. “Speaking of Pinkie, we spent the day together.” “That’s nice,” Applejack said mildly, fussing over something on her side of the barn. “What’d y’all do?” “Rut, mostly.” Applejack did a double-take, fixing Anon with a blank, slack jawed stare. “Wut?” “She invited me to her place, one thing led to another, yada yada yada, we spent the rest of the day on her bed.” “That’s, uh...” “Here’s the thing. Just before Pinkie came along, I was actually about to get lucky with Rarity, of all ponies. Funny how that worked out, huh?” “Well, that sure is, uh, somethin’.” She cleared her throat, her attention now fully on him. “So you finally went and took the plunge, then? What’d you think? Being with a mare.” “It was great. That Pinkie... she’s kind of a freak in the sheets.” Applejack burst out laughing. “I reckon she is. Did she give you a good time?” “...Yeah?” Applejack nodded. “That girl is somethin’ else. I swear, once she’s in the mood, there’s more randy energy in her than a rabbit on mating season.” Anon found himself at a loss for words. He’d hoped to take Applejack off-guard, yet after the initial revelation she’d taken everything in stride. “Now Anon,” she continued. “I hope you also showed my friend a good time? I know stallions sometimes have a hard time keeping up with her.” Again, the words died in his throat. Why was Applejack so nonchalant in discussing this with him? He’d seen the same attitude from stallions when the subject of sex and mares came up, but he hadn’t given it much thought. Just guys being guys. Not too dissimilar from his friends back on Earth. “Y-yeah,” he said. “Good stall—er, man,” Applejack nodded approvingly. “I am curious though... how do mares compare with your, eh, human gals?” “Mares are,” he considered this for a moment. “Smaller. Softer? More flexible? Though I’m not sure if that last one’s just Pinkie.” Applejack chuckled. “Fair enough. That filly’s probably got a category all to herself.” “Yeah...” “So, ah,” Applejack cleared her throat. “Think you’ll be doing it again? A romp in the hay with a mare? Or is it one of those one and done deals?” “Why? You interested?” he said without thinking. “Shoot, partner. Course I am. Any stud can keep up with Pinkie’s worth his salt in bed, I’d say.” Anon found himself spellbound by the farmpony. He knew full well mares could be forward, inviting stallions (and himself) to bed as if nothing more than a friendly outing. But this was Applejack. He’d caught her staring intensely at him on some occasions, cheeks aflame and nostrils flared on those hot, sweaty days when heat season rolled around, but other than that, she’d not shown any sort of interest with him. And it’s not like Applejack herself was without appeal. Anon would admit to being a sucker for green eyes, and he could easily stare for hours at the striking shades of Applejack’s emerald-green hues. Her charming accent; straightforward, no-frills approach to life and all; honest and hardworking nature, and her genuine, warm hospitality won him over almost instantly. The fact she hadn’t legions of stallion admirers beating down her front door for a chance to court her baffled Anon to no end. Were Applejack a human girl, Anon would have shot his shot with her ages ago. “Partner?” Applejack now stood before him. One of the barn’s open windows allowed the sun’s rays to reach in, gilding Applejack’s features. While she didn’t, in any way whatsoever, maintain her coat in the same fastidious manner as Rarity, Applejack’s coat had a healthy, sun-kissed glow. Anon wagered, were he to run his hand across it, her fur and her body would radiate a warm, gentle heat. Her blonde bangs, styled by nothing more than an idle pass of a brush and the whims of the wind outdoors, spilled somewhat messily over her eyes. Anon’s breath caught in his throat. Those eyes. They almost sparkled in the sunlight. It’d be so easy to get lost in their depths. Reluctantly, he averted his gaze, settling upon the freckles that framed the soft outlines of her face. He’d long since considered the farmpony attractive; alluring in her own natural way. It didn’t faze him in the least, not before today, likely stemming from the fact he didn’t consider her nor any pony a potential partner, sexual or otherwise. Yet now he felt as if he were his younger self, back in the halls of junior high school, frozen to the spot when a gorgeous girl gave him the slightest bit of attention. “Anon?” Gulping hard, Anon mustered the effort to collect himself. “What,” he croaked. “What did you say?” Applejack studied him closely. Her eyes darted over his, right to left and back again. Something must have shown on his face. The corner of Applejack’s lips quirked to a small, knowing smile. “Mares,” she said more clearly. “Think you’ll be...” Idly, almost nonchalantly, she placed a hoof over his knee. “Sampling the local flavor, now you got a taste of it?” “I think I might,” he said faintly. Applejack hummed, the sly smirk still in her lips. She blinked her eyes—a completely mundane action, yet to Anon’s heightened senses, she might as well have batted them, and it made his blood run hot. “I’ve only ever been with ponies, did ya know that?” Her hoof made slow, lazy circles across the fabric of his pants. “All my kin before me’s been, I reckon.” Steadily, her hoof made a steady path upwards. “We’re traditional like that, us Apples. It’s in our blood. We like it that way.” His pants began to feel tight. “Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a mite... curious.” “You haven’t...” Anon swallowed. “Showed any interest before.” “Neither have you.” “Touche,” Anon conceded. The pressure on his pants eased somewhat. Anon looked down, surprised to see Applejack had somehow undone the button of his pants using only a hoof. Her attention now focused on his bulge. Faint traces of a blush crept up on her cheeks. She leaned forward, almost nose to nose with his crotch. Anon could feel little puffs of hot air even past the fabric of his clothes. Applejack’s lips parted and with surprising delicacy, took the zipper of his pants in her teeth, coaxing it downward. Something clicked in Anon’s mind. Were Applejack to try this with one of his pants from back on Earth, she’d have had a harder time. Being the sole provider of his clothes, Rarity couldn’t help herself to, on occasion, project her own unique touch onto his garments; curiously enough, on the zipper of his pants. She’d made it bigger, considerably more robust than what Anon was used to; enough to facilitate Applejack’s efforts. Could this be the reason behind this seemingly random quirk the seamstress applied to his clothing? Did she intend for a potential partner of Anon’s to have an easier time helping him out of his clothes? Or was it simply an innocent oversight, in mind with pony sensibilities? He made a mental note to ask her sometime in the future. “Anon...” Now startled out of his random mental tangent, he looked to Applejack. She regarded him expectantly. He came here with the hopes of wheedling some answers out of the farmpony. Who better to give him a straight answer than the pony who literally can’t lie? Yet now, in less than a twenty-four hour timespan, a third (admittedly attractive) mare actively tried to get in his pants. Even for the supposedly sexually liberated Ponyville, this seemed a step too far. Something was going on here. And Anon didn’t care one bit. Already worked up, and with an enchanting, eager mare at arm’s reach, Anon gave in to his base impulses. ‘Sample the local flavor’ indeed! Author's Note Everybody who had Apple pone up next on their bingo cards, raise your hands
Red Apple Cheeks - Part 2View OnlineHeat SeasonRed Apple Cheeks - Part 2“Well,” Applejack said. “Ain’t that something.” She regarded the dick before her with mild interest, her head cocked to the side. A slight raising of her eyebrow marked the barest hint of surprise upon seeing Anon’s little friend rise to his full glory. “Not what you’re used to?” She shook her head. “Can’t say I am. Still...” She leaned forward and closed her eyes, a hair’s breadth from touching her muzzle to Anon’s tip. She took a careful, tentative sniff. “Smells good,” she mumbled. She stuck out her tongue and gave the head a casual lick. She closed her eyes again and sampled the taste, her brow knitted to a thoughtful frown. “Tastes good too.” Anon stiffened as Applejack leaned forward, engulfing the head within the warm confines of her mouth. She hummed thoughtfully and bobbed slightly, taking in more of his length. “Ain’t that the darnedest thing,” she mused upon pulling back. “It’s so... hard.” At Anon’s blank stare, she elaborated. “Stallions don’t get like that.” “They don’t get hard?” “Not like this.” She touched the frog of her hoof to his tip, tracing all the way back to his base. “This thing... it’s so stiff. Feels like there’s a...” She pondered it for a moment. “Like there’s a bone inside.” “It’s not like that with stallions?” “Nah. They’re usually a bit more... floppy. Yours ain’t bad,” she added quickly. “Just, different.” Again she regarded his dick as if it were nothing more than a passably interesting curiosity. With her hoof she pushed the head downward, watching in fascination as it sprang back up. She repeated the action, now pushing the head upwards, then to either side, eyes rapt with curiosity as it inevitably sprang back into place. Anon suppressed a laugh. The way Applejack’s head tilted to the side—the genuine curiosity telegraphed all over her face, combined with the manner in which she held her forehoof up, giving little half paws at his dick made her look like an oddly overgrown, equine-shaped cat. “Having fun?” Blinking out of her reverie, Applejack looked slightly abashed, ears splayed back. It almost made Anon feel guilty for ruining her fun. She smiled in a manner that might have been self-deprecating and turned around. Her forelegs spread out slightly. The front half of her body lowered with the action, and she hitched her tail, presenting her winking, glistening marehood. “Sorry, partner.” The timbre of her voice lowered, granting it a husky sort of quality. She glanced back over her withers, affixing Anon with an emerald-green eye. “Come in, won’t you. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.” A lump caught in his throat. He shuffled off the stool and got on his knees. Applejack waited patiently, unmoving save the twitching of her tail and the winking of her marehood. An enticing new smell tickled Anon’s senses. Not at all like the earthy overtones of weathered wood, loamy soil or generational tools and equipment long since steeped in every square inch of the quiet barn. This new one was sweet and tangy. Hastily removing and folding his pants to use as padding, he knelt before Applejack’s entrance. He had to adjust himself, for even then he was too tall to line himself up properly with her. Applejack lifted her hips, stood near the tip of her hooves to help him along. He touched his tip to her entrance. It radiated an intense, welcoming heat. A low, fluttering breath left her lips as Anon pushed in. Her walls gripped him like a vise. Steadily, he buried himself within her depths. The sheer heat within was incredible; her tightness, unequaled. Even Pinkie’s snug confines didn’t hold a candle to the farmpony’s. His hand traced the curves of her flank. If Pinkie and Rarity’s were soft and supple, Applejack’s was the exact opposite. Even past the thin layer of fat that cushioned her shapely plot, there could be no doubt this was a working mare’s posterior. Her toned muscles stood out, clearly defined and outlined, taking her fur into consideration. The heat, the sheer tightness—it stimulated Anon to the point it nearly hurt. He adjusted himself and unintentionally plunged deeper within her tunnel. A raspy, throaty moan from Applejack was his reward. He pulled her closer to him, adjusting his position anew, mounting her in nearly the same manner a stallion would. He’d have reservations doing this with Rarity or Pinkie, but the sturdy little earth mare beneath him took his weight with nary a complaint or sign of a struggle. When he properly began, thrusting in and out of her, Anon did so deliberately, wanting to properly sample his second proper taste of mare pussy—hotter and far tighter than Pinkie’s. For her part, Applejack seemed to find his pace too slow for her liking. She nickered in frustration and her tail whipped Anon’s side. “C’mon, partner,” she muttered. “Don’t be shy. I’m not made of glass.” Anon chuckled. He used one hand to grab onto her leg and reached out with the other, placing it against Applejack’s chest so as to brace himself, fingers slightly buried under her tuft. She stiffened imperceptibly and drew in a breath. She half turned, a question on the tip of her tongue. Anon missed it, admiring instead the view from his vantage point; her feminine curves accentuated by the toned muscles. Skin and fur smacked noisily as one slammed into the other. Applejack groaned in pleasure. Anon’s grip tightened. He pulled back and thrust forcefully inside her. Her sensuously hot walls clamped even tighter around him, milking him for all he was worth. It took him a few beats to get used to this position. It was one thing to do it in a soft, pliable bed. Doing it atop hard wooden floor took a slightly different approach. Applejack appreciated his efforts. Her hot and heavy breaths deepened; soon he had her panting, her head lowered and her muzzle a few inches from touching the floor. She soon joined in and rocked her hips in tandem, clenching and relaxing her iron grip as he plunged in and out of her. “Don’t stop,” she moaned. “Don’t... o-oh, buck... don’t you dare stop.” Silly pony. He had no intention of doing so. His hand made a path, moving on from her leg, lower down her belly and past her teats. “Wha... what are you...?” Applejack stiffened, her muscles locked in place. An undignified, whinnying squeal left her lips as Anon’s fingers rubbed her rosy clit. New spikes of white-hot pleasure rocked her body, and her forehooves gave way. With her cheek pressed against the floor, and her tongue listlessly lolling out her mouth, Applejack’s body gave in. Every muscle in her body tensed as she was overcome by her climax, shaking and shuddering beneath Anon. He watched with amusement and no small amount of satisfaction as the small pony recovered from her orgasm. Her shaky breaths gradually settled, her eyes regained focus and her twitching, shuddering body stilled. These ponies really did have a hair trigger, he thought idly. “What in tarnation?” Applejack looked to his still erect cock with disbelief. Anon could see where this was going and hoped to avoid a protracted discussion about stamina disparity between humans and ponies. “The short and long of it is, I can last more than a couple minutes. Lots of humans can.” Applejack’s mouth opened and closed. She stared blankly ahead. “No shit?” “No shit,” Anon said gravely. “Huh.” He’d taken the opportunity to sit down and give his knees a rest while Applejack recovered. She gazed down at his still hard dick with something akin to amazement. He didn’t need to be especially perceptive to see her thoughts running amok with possibilities. “So.” He cupped her by the flanks and pulled her in close. “Ready for round two?” Applejack’s lip trembled. She swallowed audibly. “No.” “...What?” “I had my turn.” She placed a hoof atop his chest and pushed. “What kind of a mare I’d be if I let you do all the work?” Now using both hooves, Applejack pushed him backward, till he laid down atop the floor. A few spots poked and bit at his back, not that Anon paid it much mind. Seeing the farmpony take charge was a thrill of its own. “You just sit back and relax, sugarcube.” Facing away from him, Applejack angled her hips and plunged her marehood down his rock-hard dick. “Let me take it from here.”
Red Apple Cheeks - Part 3View OnlineHeat SeasonRed Apple Cheeks - Part 3Applejack treasured precious moments such as these, when she could allow herself to not think, not ponder and not care, and simply allow the wellspring of plans, thoughts, ideas and to-do prospects that so constantly rattled in her head to leave, leaving her mind a mercifully empty space. Serene. Quiet. Like an early spring morning in her apple orchard, when the birds had not yet arrived from their southern travels, when the nearest harvest loomed well over the horizon and the many wild critters that called her kin’s land home had yet to emerge from their long winter naps. Sometimes she’d wander the orchards on these quiet mornings, the stillness broken only by her soft hoofsteps; her body invigorated by the last lingering traces of winter’s chill. Fond memories. Fond moments that belonged to her alone. Little pockets of peace and quiet in an otherwise busy, often harried life. She looked forward to moments such as those. Even now, as her legs burned pleasantly, bouncing herself atop Anon’s body, scratching an itch that had been building for what seemed like a small eternity, Applejack found herself strangely at peace. No thoughts muddled her mind. With this clarity she could lose herself to the moment and fully embrace the seemingly endless treasure trove of carnal delights Anon presented her. He hung in there far, far longer than she expected, well past the point even the hardiest of stallions would have long since finished. When he said he and Pinkie spent the day in bed, Applejack had not believed it, dismissing it as another tall tale, as stallions often bragged about. She now saw a kernel of truth in his words. Her own body felt the strain of her efforts. Of course, her current actions were nothing compared to the rigors of farm life, but every time she bounced atop him, plunging his stallionhood deep within her, filling her with nothing but satisfaction and a deep carnal bliss, her breaths grew heavier and deeper, and she moaned to the heavens, feeling a satisfying, primal sort of delight in vocalizing her pleasure. *SMACK* “Gah!” A sharp, stinging pain caused her to stiffen. The rhythmic motions she’d fell into came to an abrupt end and her legs did an awkward sort of wiggle as all momentum suddenly ceased and her rump fell back, impaling her marehood anew atop Anon’s dick. She whipped her neck around, wide-eyed and surprised to see Anon. She traced the sharp pain to her right flank, at the exact spot where his hand rested. Applejack blinked gormlessly as she could just barely make out the hints of a red imprint beneath the offending appendage. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he held Applejack’s unblinking, unrelenting stare. “Sorry,” he said lamely. “’S fine.” The pain faded quickly, devolving into a most... curious sort of tingle. “You surprised me, is all.” Readjusting her position, Applejack resumed her earlier motions, slowly bobbing up and down Anon’s shaft, picking up speed as she settled into a rhythm. His hands settled onto her hips, pulling her back during her downward thrusts, plunging his hard dick deeper within her. Combined with the strain of her motions, heat flared within her like a furnace. And still her attention returned to that stinging patch atop her right flank. “Again,” she mumbled. Anon looked up. “Huh?” She half-turned, regarding him from the corner of her eye. “That thing, with your hand.” She averted her gaze. “Do it again.” Again she resumed her motions, bouncing up and down his dick. Still hot and hard, hitting her in all the right places. Anon’s hand retreated. Applejack moved steadily, less fast now, waiting with bated breath. She didn’t have to wait long. A loud, meaty smack echoed in the otherwise deserted barn, and a stinging heat flared anew in the same spot at her right flank. She clenched around him like a vise, eliciting a fresh groan from Anon as her hips pistoned with renewed vigor. *SMACK* Her left flank now. The burning pain receded even faster, leaving that curious tingle in its place. “Oh, buck,” she moaned. She moved faster now, more desperately, coaxing sounds of approval from her partner, who in turn graced her with even more of that strangely addictive burning sting, again and again until the entirety of her flanks felt red and raw all over. “AJ.” So lost in the throes of passion, she barely registered her spoken name. His voice sounded faint and far away. “I’m close.” “Inside,” she gasped. “Oh, Celestia... do it inside!” *SMACK* It took all she had to not finish there and then, her simmering, near boiling climax held at bay by dint of sheer, bullheaded stubbornness. With the entirety of her efforts dedicated to the singular task of holding on for just a bit longer, and milking her partner to completion as bounced up and down him, ignoring the screaming protests of her muscles, Applejack lost control of her voice. Each new slap was swiftly followed by a rapturous cry of bliss, her voice cracking, reaching higher and higher levels of pitch with each flare of burning sting, progressing to the point she all but screamed to high heaven. Anon stiffened beneath her. His hands dug painfully into her hips. He pulled her tight against him and let loose, flooding her tunnel with load after load of his hot seed. Applejack let loose. A sea of white flared in her vision as all restraint finally broke and wracking throes of her shattering climax shook her body to her core. Somewhere far away she registered the screaming pitch of a mare. She didn’t realize until some time later it came from her. Her legs, spent now from the strain she placed upon them, finally gave way. Gravity pulled her backward and her limp body fell atop Anon. One arm wrapped around her, steadying her. She vaguely felt the damp perspiration from his body. His enticing scent filled her senses. A lifetime of country hospitality demanded she thank her partner for showing her a grand old time, yet her tongue felt like lead in her mouth. Her lips were scarcely more responsive. Anon’s hand settled atop her head. He ran his hand across the golden tresses of her mane in a strangely comforting manner. Granny Smith would no doubt give her an earful were she to find her lying down atop a stall—male she’d not even paired herself to, but Applejack was as a pony whose thirst had been quenched after a long stint lost in the hot, baked desert. The afterglow and deep-seated satisfaction of the incredible rut she’d just experienced left her wanting little else but to settle back and bask in the shared heat of her unlikely partner. His fingernails trailed little paths across her scalp and Applejack’s eyes fluttered close. To hay with it. She pushed everything from her mind and leaned into his touch, content to enjoy their shared moment.
Red Apple Cheeks - Part 4View OnlineHeat SeasonRed Apple Cheeks - Part 4“Plumbing weren’t around in those days,” Applejack had told him. “Not like today. Not in Ponyville.” Her lips pulled into a half smirk. “Used t’ be families would bathe together too, to conserve water. Things have changed since then, but I reckon it still works.” Anon mulled over the farmpony’s words. He spared her a quick glance, nestled in the crook of his arm. She leaned against him, resting her head atop his chest. Her closed eyes and slow, methodical rising and sinking of her chest gave her a serene sort of quality. An inexperienced eye would have a hard time linking the currently sleeping mare to the insatiably lustful beast that nearly rubbed and rode his dick to a small knob. He carefully shifted his hips and winced. For the second time in as many days he became well acquainted with the fabled stamina of the earth ponies. He’d heard the three pony tribes likened to a competitive race. Pegasi favored lightning-fast sprints. Unicorns preferred friendly, evenly paced races. Earth ponies were in for a grueling days-long marathon across hostile terrain, unpredictable weather and steep inclines that would crush the unprepared. He didn’t place much stock on these generalizations, at least not at first. Now he wasn’t so sure. Once Applejack recovered from their second roll in the hay and he filled her in on the disparity in stamina between their two species, the otherwise cool and collected farmpony became like a mare possessed and took it upon herself to get a firsthand account of his supposedly superior stamina. Anon gladly obliged and so Applejack indulged herself, riding him again and again until they lost track of how many times she climaxed atop him. Spent, sweaty, and out of breath, the two rutted themselves to exhaustion. It was later on, when the two were able to stagger back to their feet (and hooves) that Anon found himself in a familiar predicament. He reeked of a mare. He couldn’t well make his way back to Ponyville in that state, at least not until he was able to grasp the full meaning of the consequences. Luckily, Applejack came to the rescue. Cautiously, scouting ahead to make sure neither Big Mac nor Applebloom were around, Applejack unlocked the door to the cellar of her house and ushered him inside. He’d been down here on occasion. The family mainly used it for storage. Barrels took up half the spacious room, stacked up to the ceiling, a good number of them filled with aging cider. After moving some items around, Applejack revealed a hidden door. Inside was, to Anon’s astonishment, an old-fashioned communal bath. Applejack fiddled with a release mechanism and a torrent of water rushed in from a hole in the wall. Years of unuse had left the bath—composed of smooth and polished stone—relatively dirty. Black water flowed down the exit hatch, carrying all the dirt and detritus until all that remained was pure, sparkling clean spring water. Applejack returned with some soap and in the two went. The water was cool; a pleasant contrast to the otherwise warm, humid room and he scrubbed himself over and over until Applejack gave him a cursory sniff and declared him clean and smelling fresh. By that point the sudsy water had warmed up considerably and the day’s activities took their toll on their bodies. Which led Anon to his current position, fighting the exhaustion that threatened to overtake him so as to not disturb the sleeping mare. She mumbled something and pressed her small, warm body further against him. With a surge of affection for the farm mare, he hugged her a bit closer. What now? He hadn’t given the matter much thought, having instead vague, half-formed ideas of further testing out his newfound interest in mares—more specifically with Rarity and Pinkie Pie. But now Applejack had come into the mix, leaving him again with the question of where to go from here. Friends with benefits, if everything he’d learned was anything to go by. Not a completely unappealing prospect. All things considered, it’s probably the best outcome possible for his situation. After all, it’s not like he could see himself sharing a future with a lifelong partner. Not unless a human girl somehow magicked her way across time and space to Equestria. Then again and up till yesterday, he did more or less resign himself to never having sex again and look how that turned out. Maybe a potential partner wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities? He shook his head. Here he was, getting ahead of himself. Ponies weren’t humans. They operated by different rules. Sex was one thing, but who’s to say they’d even consider him for a stable relationship? Would both parties be expected to casually hook up with other ponies regardless? Would they remain exclusive to each other? And what if the mare wanted foals? It’s not like he could give them any... unless they wanted to go the adoption route. But, would the state even be willing to allow a human to adopt? What if... He shook his head again. Definitely getting ahead of himself. Beside him, Applejack stirred. She pulled away from him, groaning softly. Her eyes lazily fluttered open. “Hey, partner,” she said softly, a small smile upon her lips. “Hey.” She cracked her neck and sighed contentedly. “Thanks. For a good time,” she added. “Anytime.” Applejack chuckled. “Careful now, partner. Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” she said with a smile and wink. “’Sides, I wouldn’t hog ya all to myself.” “What do you mean?” “You know.” She waved a hoof. “Gotta share, gotta care—like Pinkie Pie liked to say.” “Share... with the rest of the Elements of Harmony, you mean?” Applejack nodded in approval. “See, now yer gettin’... uh...” Her mouth clamped shut and she scrunched up her muzzle. “Wut?” He cupped her chin, bringing the two eye to eye. “AJ... is there something you want to tell me?” “Nuthin’ I can think of, really.” “So you’re not hiding anything?” The corners of her mouth twitched. Beads of sweat pooled on her forehead. “Course I am,” she said with false bravado. “Everypony’s got a right to their secrets, don’t they?” Anon shrugged. “Fair enough.” And he released her chin. “Just making sure you’re not up to anything shady.” Applejack relaxed considerably. “Just tell me this,” he said casually. “How long have the six of you been planning to sleep with me?” “Not that long, really. It’s only been cooking for—” A hoof slammed to her mouth. She regarded Anon with wide eyes. “Hmm.” He considered this for a moment. “So what brought this on? I know Pinkie invited me for some fun back then. Dashie too, but they both stopped a long while ago.” Applejack gawped. “You... you’re not mad?” “Confused, mostly. I mean, I like you ladies well enough, but none of you have shown any interest for some time. Seems sudden, is all I’m saying.” Applejack bit her lip. “It’s heat season,” she muttered. “Come again?” “Heat season,” she said more clearly. “The girls and I... we were hoping you could give us a hoo-hand. Help us through the estrus cycle.” At his questioning look, she continued. “You know, on account you can’t, eh, fertilize a mare’s fields.” “Oh.” His eyes widened in realization. “Ohh. Wait, is that how that works?” “Kinda, yeah. I mean,” She studied him closely. “How much do you know? Estrus and all that?” He shrugged. “Just the basics, really. It happens once a year during early summer, though some mares experience a second estrus cycle later in the year. They get very in the mood and are super fertile, so most mares lock themselves inside their homes. They can also use a cooler or take some special tea to calm down their urges.” “Is that it? Nothing else?” “Not off the top of my head. Why? What am I missing?” “Well,” she began carefully. “There’s a surefire way to get rid of the worst of it—all those urges you were talkin’ about.” “And that is?” “Ya gotta finish. Inside the mare. It’s gotta be a livin’, breathin’ stallion that does it—well, a livin’, breathin’ male, I reckon. It’s the only way for a mare to get some proper relief. Coolers help with it some, but it’s hit or miss. Moonblossom tea’s always reliable but doesn’t do enough; just takes the worst off it.” “So when you said you girls were hoping I’d help you...” “Shucks, sugar, do I really need to say it? We want yer dick, a good hard plowing and a big ol’ creampie to take the edge off. Bein’ in heat is... well, it’s bad enough when you have a stallion friend to help you with it—and even then he can’t finish inside, lest yer wantin’ foals. Going without, with only a cooler and the traditional ways...” she grimaced. “Ya wouldn’t understand.” Anon leaned back, going over the information. “And all six of you were in on it?” “Yeah.” “I see.” He studied the farm mare closely. “So, sex. That’s all it comes down to?” Applejack nodded. “Are we friends then? You and me? The others? Or is sex all you’re after?” She cocked her head. “Huh?” “What is this, between you and me? Am I only a glorified cooler?” “Course not, partner. We’re friends.” “So you’re not using me?” “Using you? How?” “For sex. Relief.” Applejack frowned. “That’s a cold way to put it.” “As opposed to what?” “Friends. Friends helpin’ each other. To scratch their itch. Everypony does it.” Anon sighed deeply. The building retort died on his lips. “You know, I’ve been living here for a while now. It’s not too bad, once you get past the no humans, cars, electricity... all the modern comforts. You ponies are cool, too. Most of you. You live life to the fullest; take things as they come. Life here’s good. Peaceful.” “But?” “Every once in a while, no matter how much I think I’ve gotten used to things, something will come out of nowhere and slap me in the face. A reminder, I guess, that no matter how similar our people may be, we’re entirely different species.” “I’m... not sure I follow.” He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it. Just...” He sighed again, leaning back against the wall of the bath. “I have a lot to think about.” Author's Note Full disclosure? The second half of this chapter did not go the way I planned.
Stormy Skies - Part 2View OnlineHeat SeasonStormy Skies - Part 2“I don't know what that was about,” Twilight lied through her teeth. “Which part?” “...All of it?” He arched his eyebrows. “So we're not about to jump in the–what was it she said… the sack?” “Pshh, no. No! I mean, unless you wan... want... want to wake up Spike! Yes!” She laughed nervously. “That's a shame. I thought we had something going here.” Twilight's eyes bugged out. Her mouth gaped. Several more strands of her mane sprang back. “Y-you did? Oh, my. But I wasn't even… and you didn't show signs of…” This was bad. Things were getting way out of hoof. She hadn't planned for this. It was too soon. She only had the barest, most cursory of experience with stallions, nevermind a human. She hoped some of her friends had their turn with him first, that Twilight could then use their feedback to gather data and formulate a flawless, risk-free plan to approach him–one that hopefully, for once, wouldn't end in humiliating disaster. Anonymous knelt before her. “Are you okay? You look a bit wound up.” “Fine,” she croaked. “Just fine.” She tried to move, to lean back, but her body wouldn’t respond. “Positive?” Twilight's breath hitched as he cupped her chin in that strangely comfortingly warm hand of his. “You're feeling pretty warm. Sure you're not coming down with something?” “Unlikely,” she said faintly. She dared not blink. “I'm an alicorn now. We don't get sick easily.” He leaned in. “My people have a way to check these things. It's traditional, going back generations.” “What is it?” she whispered. He tilted up her chin. Twilight's chest heaved, expelling short, sharp, panicky breaths as Anonymous closed in. Oh, Celestia… She sat there, rooted to the spot. Her traitorous body refused to move. The outside world grew faint, her awareness solely encompassed on the human before her, and the inevitable trajectory his lips made to her own. Panic began to set in. What was the protocol here? She'd only ever kissed one stallion. Her experience was near nonexistent. Did Anonymous expect a traditional kiss or, heaven forbid, the Prench technique? His teeth were those of an omnivore, sharper than a pony's. What if he accidentally bit off her tongue? Sweet Luna… she hadn't brushed her teeth! Her mouth slack, lip trembling, Twilight shut them. Anonymous was close now. He loomed large over her. She could detect faint traces of sweet cocoa in his breath. His natural musk, tempered by the earlier rain, tickled her nose. Unable or unwilling to do anything else, Twilight closed her eyes. She tilted her head ever so slightly; her lips puckered imperceptibly. A slight pressure settled on her forehead. Twilight remained as a statue, not daring to breathe. Slow, torturous seconds ticked by. Her eye parted slightly. There knelt Anonymous, his lips not inches from hers. He touched his forehead to hers, at a bit of an awkward angle to compensate for the position of her horn. “You're right,” he said and pulled back. “Must have been my imagination.” Twilight swore she could hear a balloon violently deflating. "W-what?" She shook her head, the spell now broken. Her paralyzed muscles recovered miraculously. He shrugged. "You seem fine, all things considered." "Bu-but I... and you... are we not gonna..." "Gonna what?" Twilight bit her lip. "Twilight." He regarded her curiously. "Did you want a kiss?" "No!" she surprised herself at the rattling power of her voice. Anonymous too started back a bit. Her ears splayed back. The Royal Canterlot Voice. Like estrus, another alicorn trait that came up at an inopportune time. "I mean to say," she continued more softly. "It's not that I don't want to kiss you but, a-ahh... maybe it's not the best time?" "Is it because I'm not a pony?" "H-hey! That's not what I..." She choked on her words. There was an odd lilt to Anonymous' mouth. His lips twitched. The carefully impassive mask on his face cracked. His mouth split into a wide, toothed grin. Twilight watched gobsmacked as he doubled over in wracking fits of laughter. Heat rushed to her face. She could see it now. He deliberately toyed with her, acting the innocent as she made a foal of herself, burying herself deeper into the hole he'd dug. Twilight bit her lip. Her eyes prickled. Stupid. How could she have been so stupid? No stallion had ever pursued her before. Why would Anonymous do so, given their brief, less than stellar history? Still he laughed. It cut like a knife. The knot in her chest grew. It tightened. Her vision blurred. There was a sharp intake of breath and the pressure in her lungs eased somewhat. No, not a breath. A sob. It came from her... and drew Anonymous' attention. His grin wavered as he took her in, then fell completely. Tears carved hot trails down her face as she blinked. She couldn't properly see him past the welling tears, but his stance shifted, hands twitching at his sides, as though unsure what to do with himself. Twilight closed her eyes and barreled past him, shuttering herself inside the study room. She collapsed atop another floor cushion, burying her face into it. Her muffled sobs echoed softly within the dark room. Author's Note That thing I said I was looking forward to writing? It's actually gonna be the next chapter. I'm cutting this one short. I've pretty much been writing and posting these recent uploads back to back within the same day, and my IRL duties have suffered as a result. Expect a break for the next chapter. It'll also help me polish them as upon looking back, these recent ones read kind of rushed.
Stormy Skies - Part 3View OnlineHeat SeasonStormy Skies - Part 3It hurt. Twilight knew she shouldn’t let it, yet it did. How many times had it been now? How many times since she’d been rejected, dismissed out of hoof by who she’d hoped would be a prospective partner? She didn’t know. No, that would be a lie. She knew full well, down to the time and location of such events. Another to add to the list. But she didn’t know why and that made it worse. Her previous failed attempts at least, she could understand, to pinpoint the exact moment her admittedly clumsy bids to find a partner—temporary or otherwise—met with abject failure. Twilight sobbed again, pressing further into the now damp pillow. She wished her mom were here to comfort her, to feel her caring presence and the tender touch of her hoof trailing down her mane. Her support had gone a long way to help Twilight feel better after such debacles. A futile wish, of course. Twilight would find no comfort tonight. She hugged the pillow tight against herself. For some time, she couldn’t say how long, she remained prone atop her position, allowing the burning tears to stain the fabric atop where she lay. Every sob, every little breath of air she released went some way to help alleviate the knotted pain in her chest. Twilight sniffled, using a foreleg to wipe the dampness around her eyes. Her breaths came long and deep and the pain in her chest diminished to a dull ache. A creak of wood drew her attention. Anonymous loomed just past the threshold of the entryway. How long he’d been standing there, Twilight could not say, but she used her magic to light up the room. “What do you want?” she croaked in a small voice. “I’m not sure, to be honest,” he said, not meeting her eyes. Rather, he slowly scanned the room. “I think I wanted to talk.” “Talk?” Twilight’s eyes narrowed and her voice grew in pitch. “Talk?” Her hackles raised. “You want to talk after... after you...” She bit her lip, shut her eyes tight. The pain was still fresh in her mind. Instead she took a breath and held it, as Cadence showed her, her leg stretched across her chest. She released it, moving her foreleg into an arc. “Alright.” More composed now, she sat up straight. “Talk about what?” “You know, I’m not sure about that either.” Twilight wanted to feel anger, to rage, to demand answers from him. Answers as to why he hurt her and why he took joy in doing so. But the hour was late. Combined with her emotional outpour, she could only muster a deep-seated weariness. She sighed. “Why are you here, Anon?” He exhaled sharply, an odd sound between a scoff and a laugh. “I’ve been asking myself that question for some time.” “It’s not funny.” “I guess it wouldn’t be.” Still he had a hard time looking her in the eye. He bent down, then sat cross-legged. He studied his clasped hands, brow creased to a thoughtful frown. “I had a partner, back home. A girl. Did you know that? I guess you wouldn’t. I don’t think I’ve mentioned it to the others. Maybe in passing, who knows. “It was your picture-perfect love story. We were neighbors, you see. Best friends. Practically grew up together. Eventually we realized we liked each other.” He smiled fondly. “It was good, what we had. There were troubles, here and there, but that’s just how things go, don’t they? We made it work though, for six years. I’m not sure how it compares to you ponies, but that’s pretty good, considering how young we were.” Twilight frowned, confused. Why was he telling her this? “We decided to take things to the next level. We used to live out in the country, you see. Her family moved to the city about a year back. It made it a bit tricky to see each other, so we decided to get a place all to ourselves. We found a good apartment, got a lease; everything was looking up. I packed everything I could fit into my car... think a self-propelled motorized carriage—and made the drive to our new home.” “How nice,” she mumbled halfheartedly. Anonymous nodded. “It would have been. But somewhere along that drive, I wound up here.” Twilight’s ears perked up. Her waning interest kindled anew. “I couldn’t tell you how it happened, but one minute I’m driving along, next thing I know I’m crashing headlong into a ditch. Sprained my neck pretty well. The car was pretty much totaled. Heh... I’d just finished paying it off, too,” he said ruefully. “Lyra came along after. Lucky me. She’d been making her way back to Ponyville after attending a meetup—some weird fringe group that studied humans, among other ‘cryptids’.” “What happened to the car?” “Celestia got in touch with the Trottingham Institute of Technology. They sent a salvage crew to gather up the wreckage. It’s still over at their labs, last I knew. They gave me a pretty bit for it too, so at least it wasn’t a total loss.” Despite everything, a sense of elation swelled within Twilight. An advanced piece of technology from another world, basically sitting at hoof’s reach—a train ride away. And with her new status as princess... she frowned, coming back to what he’d said. “The girl... that marefriend of yours.” “I never did make it to our new place. I sometimes still wonder what she made of it. A car wreck? There’d be no body, no trace, nothing. Kidnapping’s always a possibility, but unlikely. As far as she knows... as far as anyone knew, I dropped off the face of the earth.” He looked out the window. The raging storm had calmed considerably. “She probably thinks I abandoned her.” Twilight opened her mouth, closed it. What could she say... what should she say at a time like this? “What was her name?” He remained silent, still looking out at the pouring rain. “It’s funny. I’ve been living here a while now. I figured you ponies didn’t have much more to surprise me with.” He chuckled. “Humans are monogamous, did you know that? No, of course you wouldn’t. Imagine my surprise when I learned of herds. In my side of the world, we were brought up to view sex as something... special. Intimate. Not something you casually give out. There’s a kind of stigma to those of us who do so. Don't get me wrong, I don’t think less of you ponies for doing so. That’s just who you are.” “I’m... not sure where you’re...” “I know, Twilight.” He looked at her dead on. “I know what you and your friends were up to. Heat season?” Twilight flushed. “How?” “I got it out of Applejack, once we did it. Pinkie too. Hell, Rarity and I almost went at it, but... well, it really wasn’t that hard to put two and two together. You know what the real kicker is? I’m not mad. No, I should say I’m not nearly as mad as I thought I’d be. I don’t know. Maybe you ponies have rubbed off on me more than I expected. Tell me though, really, why the whole smoke and mirrors? Why make it a whole secret? Why didn’t you girls just... ask?” “We,” Twilight bit her lip. “I was afraid you’d have... reservations.” He looked at her closely. “This was your idea?” Twilight nodded. She told him of estrus, of the heightened version that came with being an alicorn, and the havoc it would wreak, turning her to a mindless, slavering sex fiend. “You saw it firsthoof, back at the spa,” she said, looking away, her blush deepening. “It’s more or less what I can look forward to if I don’t find suitable... relief this estrus cycle.” “I see,” he muttered thoughtfully. “So you were desperate.” She let out a brief, mirthless laugh. “That’s one way of putting it.” “Well, I can understand why you were so reluctant to bring it up. I still remember how you used to jump or duck out of the way to hide every time we were set to cross paths in the street.” Twilight was mortified. “You saw that?” “Yep. Well, no. Not until Lyra pointed it out to me.” Twilight buried her face in her hooves. What was it with her... with him... that she kept embarrassing herself in his presence? “So what happens now?” “You know, I’m not sure about that either,” he said. “Applejack, Rainbow Dash, the others... I’d like to think we’re good enough friends. They’ve all helped me out one way or another, back when I first came here. I’d prefer not to lose them over a misunderstanding.” Twilight furrowed her brow. “Misunderstanding?” He gave her a pointed look. “You tried to use me, the six of you. For sex.” Twilight cocked her head. “Use you? That’s such an... impersonal way to put it.” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Alright. How would you put it? What was the thinking behind this whole... plan of yours?” “Well,” she said carefully. “I knew that for a while, you had no interest in ponies. I...” she looked away, blushing. “I know I probably didn’t help matters, considering what happened. And well, you had needs, same as us. Same as every living creature. If that were the case, and you did start to see ponies as potential partners, you probably wouldn’t know how to approach us. The girls and I, we wanted to help... ease you into the idea If my hunch were right—if you really did start getting interested, then we could all help each other. We could... satisfy you however you wanted and in turn you’d help us get through the worst of the heat cycle.” He mulled over the words. “An exchange, then? Is that what it came down to? Trading one favor for another?” Twilight nodded. “And you see nothing wrong with that?” She pondered on this. “Well, I suppose we could have gone about it better. I suppose... I suppose we could have come straight to you instead of going behind your back.” Again he sighed, rubbing the back of his head. Twilight’s ears drooped. “Did I say something wrong?” “Forget it,” he said, waving a hand. “Just another one of those things.” They fell into a silence, filled by nothing more than the gradually waning rain outside and the occasional crack of thunder. Twilight studied him from the corner of her eye. He all but sagged, his posture slumped. His eyes were glazed over, not fully seeing the writing desk on which they rested. A faint, thoughtful frown creased his brow. Something else caught her eye. Behind him and to the side was the chalkboard she’d used as a presentation, to track her and her friends’ progress on their supposed mission—the colorful progress meters included. Twilight traced them from the bottom-up, starting at the bulbous base, to their lengthy body and the oblong top on which they terminated. Her heart swelled with despair. “They are cocks...” There was even an outdent just past the middle, reminiscent of a medial ring. Anonymous looked to her, as if snapping out of a trance. “Did you say something?” Twilight’s horn surged with power and let loose a spell that struck the chalkboard dead on, completely erasing the figures. Anonymous started a bit, glancing back to the chalkboard. Twilight bit her lip. She glanced around, noting how she’d allowed her study room to fall into a bit of a mess and seized the opportunity. With another practiced application of magic, the modest room came to life. Scattered books levitated from various places, as did quills, parchments, and a small assortment of instruments of academia, all floating to their respective places on drawers, shelves or the desk. “Don’t mind me,” she chuckled nervously. “Just, eh, cleaning up.” He regarded her oddly, but his lips quirked into a half smile. He leaned back and was about to say something but then stiffened. “What the...” Frowning, he reached out with a hand somewhere behind him. Twilight’s heart sank further as the riding crop came into view. “What is this thing?” he asked, looking it over. Another flash of magic and it disappeared from his grip to parts unknown. “Nothing, nothing,” Twilight said, trying to sound casual. “Just a... marital aide?” Anonymous didn’t seem convinced. “Right...” he drawled. Twilight mustered as much dignity as she could. She refused to embarrass herself further and schooled her features into the most pleasantly neutral look she could. “Pretty handy, that magic of yours.” Twilight blinked owlishly. “Wha... oh, yes. Yes, it is quite useful.” “I’ve wondered... you’ve done some pretty impressive things with it. Is there a limit to what you can do with it?” Twilight was surprised, but then perked up. “Well, yes. With the sufficient skill, power and intent, magic can do almost anything, but even the most powerful users only have so much to draw from. Our material bodies have limits. Magic does not.” “But you, personally. Would you be able to... I don’t know.” He pointed at the desk. “Turn that into a lion?” Twilight considered this. “I could. But it wouldn’t be a very stable transformation. It wouldn’t even be a real lion, so much as my own interpretation of what a lion is.” She pointed at the desk. “And that is wood. It’s inert. Unliving. A lion isn’t. A simple way to look at it would be...” She tapped a hoof to her chin, thinking. “When you transform something into another, the object in question will eventually return to its original form. The more the transformation deviates from the original state, the more unstable it will be, the faster it will revert. A desk into a lion? Very unstable. But what if you were to use a tiger instead? You’ll get a much more stabilized transformation. It will eventually revert, of course.” “So you could turn a bird into another?” “Within reason. I mean, even Celestia wouldn’t be able to turn... say, a hummingbird into a roc.” “A cat into a dog?” Twilight snorted. “It wouldn’t be very happy, but yes.” “A turtle into a cockatrice?” “Only in form. It wouldn’t have the cockatrice’s deadly gaze.” “A griffon into a minotaur?” “I... can’t see them ever consenting to it, but yes.” “A human into a pony?” “Like I said, anything is possible with, uh...” Twilight blinked rapidly. Did she hear him right? “What?” Author's Note Now we're cooking Pre-read by Elric of Melnipony
A Pony?View OnlineHeat SeasonA Pony?“A pony.” “A-yup.” “A pony?” “Again, yup.” Clad in a fluffy, cream-colored robe, a bleary-eyed Lyra stared at him over her morning coffee. One would think he’d grown a second head. “So? What do you think?” “About time,” muttered Bon Bon, her attention focused on the stack of pancakes before her. “What?” she said upon registering her housemates staring at her. “You didn’t expect him to run around all...” She waved a hoof up and down. “Biped forever, did you?” “It would make things convenient,” Lyra mused, stirring in some sugar cubes and a splash of cream onto her drink. “Well, as far as size goes. Just about everything is too small for him.” A tinge of nervousness manifested in Anon. “I mean, Twilight said this kind of thing is only temporary.” “Oh, yeah,” Lyra shrugged. “It’s part of Salt Horn’s basic laws of transmutation.” “Twilight said something along those lines,” Anon said as he speared a forkful of flapjacks and shoved them in his maw. “That there’s no danger of it being permanent?” “Nope. You can prolong the transformation as long as you like... theoretically... if the spell is renewed before it reaches its conclusion.” She gave him a measured look. “But don’t you think this is a bit...” “Reckless?” Bon Bon said helpfully. “I think what Bon Bon means,” Lyra continued. “Is this is all a bit sudden. You weren’t even interested in mares until, what, two days ago? And now this whole transformation business...” she trailed off. Anon shrugged. “What’s there to worry about?” “Just making sure you’ve thought this through.” “Look.” He let the fork fall loudly onto his plate. “I don’t... get you ponies. Not all of you. I mean, duh, we’re different species, right? I can live with it. But if I really want to make a life for myself here and maybe... I dunno, find a nice mare... I’m gonna need to understand you guys better. At least where,” he looked down, blushing. “At least where sex, mares and relationships are concerned.” Lyra and Bon Bon shared a look. “And turning into a pony will help?” “I dunno. Maybe. It’s worth a try, I think.” They still didn’t seem convinced. “Look, that whole thing Twilight and her friends cooked up, with the estrus cycle? It got me thinking. If it really is that bad for you mares, that they planned this whole scheme to get relief... how would others react? “Say I never knew those six. Say that... I dunno, I was in good terms with the flower sisters or, hell, Vinyl and Octavia. Say they too realized I could help them through the estrus cycle; full relief with no danger of pregnancy. Would they leave well enough alone? Or would they try to get first dibs, if they found out I started to like mares?” The two mares shared another, slightly guilty look, not meeting his eye. “Full relief, no pregnancy?” Bon Bon muttered. “It’s tempting. Awfully tempting.” “I... can’t imagine many mares would let an opportunity like that slip,” Lyra grudgingly admitted. “Assuming they’re into the whole tall, bipedal alien look.” “So you see, this is gonna be a problem no matter where I go.” “When you put it that way... well, I still don't see what being a pony's got to do with it,” Lyra said. “Can’t hurt. You guys’ views on... sex and these things are nearly opposite to us. If I’m gonna stay here in Equestria, if I want to build something long-term, then I’m gonna need to... understand you ponies better. What better way to do it than walking a mile in your shoe—er, hooves?” Lyra took a careful sip of her coffee, while Bon Bon chewed thoughtfully on her pancakes. “It’s either that or I get used to disappointment.” Lyra’s ears drooped. “It’s just... I dunno. Do what you think is best. Just be careful.” “It’s risky, is all I’m saying,” Bon Bon muttered. Anon shrugged. “Life is all about risk.” He speared another forkful of pancakes and bit down. “You won’t get too far playing it safe.”
Human WaysView OnlineHeat SeasonHuman Ways“Now then,” Twilight Sparkle said, her mouth taut in a grim line as she looked to the rest of the girls. “I’m sure you all want to know why I called you here.” Her five friends nodded with varying degrees of curiosity. “It’s over, girls. I’m putting an end to Operation: Heatsink in lieu of recent developments.” They reacted with varying degrees of confusion. “What gives?” Rainbow said. “I thought everything was going good. Didn’t you and Anon...” Twilight blushed. “N-no.” “Didn’t what?” Pinkie asked. “I flew in on them,” Rainbow said. “Just last night. Looked like they were getting real friendly.” “Ooh, did you get some action, then?” Pinkie said eagerly. “Is he a stud or is he a stud?” she finished with a wink. “He’s...” “The best darn lay ya ever had?” Applejack said, nodding knowingly. “No! He’s... you... what?” “He came t’ the farm round noon just yesterday. We, uh, got real friendly, if you know what I mean.” All eyes turned to the farmpony with surprise. Rainbow leaned in. “Alright, spill! How was it?” “What did he look like... um, down there?” asked Fluttershy. “How many creampies did he stuff you with?” Pinkie said eagerly. “Pinkie Pie!” Rarity said, aghast. “What? I just want to compare notes!” She reached into her mane and pulled out a long sheet of parchment. “I lost count right near the end, but Nonon said humans can usually go more than a couple rounds, and that’s without even using a booster shot, so—” “Wait a minute,” Rainbow cut in. “What are you saying, Pinkie? Did you and Anon...” She smiled fondly, a dreamy, faraway look in her eyes. “We did. All day long.” She blushed. There was a brief pause as all mares digested this. Rarity gulped. “Now when you say all day long...” “All. Day.” She burst into a fit of giggles, cupping her cheeks with her hooves. “You girls should have seen him. He went three rounds back-to-back! And once he tried drinking a booster shot,” she giggled again. “He was like an animal!” “Pinkie.” Twilight rolled her eyes. “What you’re saying isn’t possible. That aside, it’s not the reason I called—” “The list never lies,” Pinkie declared confidently, brandishing said parchment. “You know, on account it can’t talk.” “Oh, for...” Twilight muttered, taking her place among the clustered mares who’d gathered to take a proper look. “What are the numbers supposed to be?” Fluttershy asked, her head tilted to the side. “That,” Pinkie said. “Is how long he lasted.” “I don’t see it,” Rainbow muttered. “These are like, minutes.” “As in, more than three,” Fluttershy added. “And they just,” Rarity said faintly. “And they just keep—” “Growing,” whispered Twilight. Pinkie grinned smugly. “Is he a stud or what?” Applejack nodded. “Sounds about right.” Her friends looked at her expectantly. “I, uh, don’t rightly know how many times he went for when we did it.” She blushed. “But, y’know, he wore me out. Like, fully.” “O-oh, my.” Fluttershy too blushed. “So, Rarity, how many times did he last with you?” Rarity fidgeted in place. “We, uh,” She bit her lip. “We didn’t... we were... interrupted.” Rainbow chuckled deviously. “I love it when a plan ‘cums’ together. Huh? Huh?” she said, winking and nudging Pinkie, who too giggled. The others rolled their eyes. “This is great news! Heat season is gonna be a breeze.” “No!” Again she unknowingly tapped into the Royal Canterlot Voice. Twilight sighed. “Girls, it’s over. We,” She glanced longingly at the gloriously long list. “We may have made a mistake here.” Applejack maintained a neutral composure. The others merely looked confused. “He knows, girls. Anonymous found out and—” “How’d he find out?” Rainbow cut in. “It doesn’t matter,” Twilight said, waving a hoof. “No,” Applejack said. “No, I think it does. I let it slip, see. And... and maybe Twi’s right. Maybe... maybe we didn’t consider all when going on this little hee-haw.” Pinkie raised a hoof. “Um, I'm confused. What happened?” “Anon didn’t take it too well,” Applejack said. “When he found out. Not. One.Bit.” “I imagine he must have been a little, um, peeved,” Fluttershy said. “But is it really that bad? We just wanted to have fun.” “He says we’re usin’ him.” Twilight perked up. “That’s what he said to me.” “That’s silly,” Pinkie said. “We don’t wanna use him. We want to make him feel good. And we want him to help us feel good too.” “It is a reasonable exchange,” Rarity said. Rainbow and Fluttershy nodded. “Yes,” Twilight muttered. “Yes, it is. To a pony.” She looked up to her friends. “He said humans are monogamous. Did you know that?” “Mono-what?” Rainbow said. “They keep to one partner, sexual or otherwise.” “He did mention that,” Pinkie said. “Same here,” said Applejack. Twilight looked to the other three. “How about you girls? Did you know this?” They shook their heads. “Interesting...” “We should bake him a cake!” Pinkie piped up. “A nice big apology cake from the six of us.” “Not sure that’s gonna cut it, Pinks,” Applejack said. “You may be right,” Twilight muttered. “There’s something we’re missing here. Something that...” she frowned, looking but not really looking out the window. “Physical relationships are... special where he comes from. They have a certain meaning to them. His words.” Pinkie hummed. “Special how? In how they make you feel good?” Twilight shook her head. “I think it goes further than that.” “You lost me,” Rainbow grumbled. Applejack and Fluttershy agreed. “Clearly humans are different from us,” Twilight elaborated. “I don’t mean in form. Anypony can see that. We differ in a substantially more fundamental level.” “What? Like clothes?” Rainbow said. “No, no.” Twilight made a frustrated noise. “Honestly, we know so little about his species. Who’s to say what... what could be...” The five mares shared a concerned look. Twilight went still. So still she appeared frozen in place. “Um, Twilight?” Fluttershy said, gingerly poking her. “Clothes...” “What’s that, hun?” “Clothes,” she said more clearly. Her friends could practically see the gears in her brain cranking and spinning rapidly. “Rarity!” Twilight said, a certain zeal in her voice. “How much do you know about the relationship between humans and clothes? Tell me everything.” Momentarily surprised, she recovered quickly. “Well, per Anon’s testament, his kind have clothed themselves in... animal pelts since they were little more than stick-wielding barbarians. Tens of thousands of years, by his account. They were hunters, always on the move and foraging for sustenance in the wilds. The pelts protected them from the elements. Eventually they settled down and slowly built communities. Towns, villages, cities. They began incorporating more natural fibers into their clothing—becoming more elaborate, more complex as time went on.” Everymare reeled. “Tens,” Twilight squeaked. “Tens of thousands of years?” Rarity smiled wanly. “Hundreds of thousands if you account for the earliest human ancestors. So he says.” “Golly,” Applejack muttered. “No wonder his kind’s managed to invent all them gizmos and doodads he’s talked about. Figures. Bein’ around that long, they gotta know a thing or two.” “Still,” Twilight said, reaching up with a shaky hoof to wipe the sweat from her brow. “Tens of thousands of years...” She addressed Rarity again. “You said the humans considered it a taboo to go without clothes. Did he ever elaborate on that?” Rarity hummed thoughtfully. “Not exactly,” she said slowly. “He was so... shy when it came to nudity. Why, he got quite flustered when I asked him to take off his shirt. For measurements, of course. I think... I think he said his kind is comfortable with nudity under very specific circumstances.” “Such as?” “In the presence of their special somepony. There’s meant to be a degree of trust, I believe.” Twilight’s mind raced. The picture was slowly taking shape. Her magic flared and along with it, the chalkboard rolled over, stopping just behind her. Her back to them, Twilight’s friends watched as she rapidly scribbled onto the surface. 10,000 years, Taboo, Special Somepony and Trust, all arranged in a semicircle. “Bear with me here, girls. I believe we’re close to understanding this.” The riding crop came into view, earning little more than a cursory glance. It hovered just beneath the 10,000 years mark. “Unlike us ponies, the humans have regularly clothed themselves—likely in layers, if Anonymous is anything to go by—for over ten thousand years. A practice such as this, so deeply ingrained within a species... there’s not a doubt in my mind it must have left some sort of indelible mark in their society.” The riding crop levitated under the two remaining words. “Nudity is a taboo. We don’t have enough data to speculate as to why. Regardless, it is and humans are quite shy about it.” The riding crop hovered under Special Somepony. “Unlike us, humans are largely monogamous. Taking the nudity taboo into account, we can speculate that sexual encounters between them are not nearly as casual as they are between us ponies. Going successively from one partner to another must be a strange concept to them.” Pinkie’s eyes lit up and she nodded in understanding. “Ooh, yeah. He got super weirded out when I suggested he try his luck with Rarity, once we had our fun.” Twilight nodded, now bringing attention to the word Trust. “He said to me last night that sex was something... intimate between partners. That there’s a kind of stigma to those who give it out casually. It’s meant to be special.” Rarity frowned. “A stigma? Isn’t that going a bit too far? It’s just a bit of harmless fun.” “Not to them.” Twilight tapped the word Trust. “They are monogamous. Nudity is a taboo; casual sex is frowned upon. To overcome these two barriers, a certain level of trust is needed.” “Trust to what?” Rainbow said, exasperated. “What are they so afraid of?” The ponies pondered this in silence. “I think,” Twilight said carefully. “It might be trust in each other.” Her friends looked up. “How do you mean, hun?” “Think about it. Humans are constantly wearing clothes. On some level, they hide themselves from the world, allowing only a select few to truly see them.” “It sounds lonely,” Fluttershy whispered. The others nodded solemnly. “I don’t see how it couldn’t be,” Twilight continued. “But it makes sense, doesn’t it? Imagine if all your life you’ve been taught to hide your body. Everypony does it, all around you. It’s such a constant, omnipresent reminder you don’t even notice it anymore. It’s just normal. So normal that being in your bare, natural state becomes abnormal.” Rainbow’s mouth twisted. “Crummy world, if you ask me,” she muttered. “But if what Twilight said is true,” Rarity said. “If sex is such a meaningful act to them... if humans are as afraid to show themselves as Anonymous was, then... then...” “Then he trusted us,” Pinkie said softly. “He trusted us in a super special way. And, and we...” she bit her lip. “We betrayed that trust,” Applejack said. “Hey, hey! Hold on!” Rainbow said, hovering in the air. “That’s not fair! We didn’t set out to betray anypony.” None of her friends seemed to register her impassioned outburst. “Stupid human ways. Ugh! Why do they have to make it so complicated? We didn’t... it’s not our fault if he...” Her enthusiasm vanished as though swept by a strong breeze. Her wings went limp and she landed on her haunches, all but sagging in place. Fluttershy tore her gaze away from the floor. Her friends had that same vacant stare, lost in their thoughts. “What are we going to do?” she said to Twilight, who looked back helplessly. “I have no idea.”
To Going ForwardView OnlineHeat SeasonTo Going ForwardRarity sat by the window of Golden Oaks Library. She used her magic to delicately turn the page of the book before her. Her eyes were glazed over even as they scanned the colorful illustrations, barely taking them in. Past the door and into the main room she could hear the telltale chime of Twilight’s own magic, pacing hoofsteps, muffled muttering and fluttering of pages. That mare... she never did anything halfway. She knew better than to try to dissuade Twilight when she got into one of her mindsets and merely contented herself to pass the time. At least, that was her intention. She sighed, turning to another page of the book. It’s not like she didn’t have anything else to do. There was plenty in her boutique that demanded her attention. She didn’t mind it, of course. She liked her work and could reliably lose herself in it, pushing all else from her mind, and yet... she found her thoughts drifting. Poor Pinkie. She’d been so eager to try and make up for their admittedly big faux pas, throwing around ideas for a ‘We’re-Sorry-Anon-Will-You-Forgive-Us' party or some such. Twilight shot the idea down, insisting it’d be better to give him a little space for now. Rarity agreed. Maybe not the best idea to have their whole group come forward all at once, not so soon. In any case, he was due to arrive in the library. Rarity couldn’t help to admit feeling the slightest bit queasy. Anon had been something of a fixture in her life for some time now. Not to the extent of her close circle of friends, but he’d certainly been the most prominent male in her life. Her lip curled into a thin, mirthless half-smile. A sobering reminder of her tepid love life... or lack thereof. She never considered herself especially adventurous in her choice of partners, so it came as a surprise even to her when she eventually found her thoughts playing with the idea of taking her friendship with Anonymous to a more physical level. Or maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. He had been the most constant male presence in her life, considering he was a male. Most unattached stallions usually kept to their own little groups. Still, it was company and a fairly pleasant one at that and seeing the clothing designs he’d sketched for her—pulled up from memory and a practiced hand—was the highlight of her day. It reliably made her own ideas and inspiration brim with untapped potential. He did take her a bit off-guard when he began showing the first signs of attraction. Subtle cues. Maybe a bit flustered when she batted her eyes, or a line of sight that lingered a bit too long on her hindquarters. She’d seen this before on stallions but did not expect it from him, having shown no intentions for her beyond the strictly platonic since their introduction. A faint tinge of red colored her cheeks as thoughts moved now to their little encounter at the boutique. Twilight’s epiphany left her wondering. If humans really did hold sex as a meaningful act, did that mean that for a time, however briefly, he saw her as a potential special somepony? A day in bed was one thing, but a relationship? Part of her couldn’t deny being the slightest bit curious and considering her currently stale love life... it wasn’t an entirely unappealing prospect. Perhaps it even merited closer scrutiny? But what of Pinkie and Applejack? They’d gone much further with him. Would they take priority over her? She frowned and forced her mind from this line of thinking. It was a moot point anyway. Whatever interest he may have held in them had likely soured by now, and it’s not like Rarity herself even knew how human pairings worked. It made her realize how little she (or the girls, for that matter) knew of his people. She’d asked some things here and there, back in those early days, mainly for Twilight’s benefit. The poor mare eagerly drank up whatever tidbits Rarity and her friends shared with her regarding all things human, but many of the things he said were too... big, too broad for Rarity to wrap her head around. She had no frame of reference to understand many aspects of his world and eventually gave up asking, keeping her questions mostly to clothes and fashion. These she understood to her core. Part of her wondered how things might have been had Twilight and Anon been on better terms. That whole spa fiasco drove a wedge between them for the longest time. Had it never happened, had Twilight and Anon struck a good rapport and become friends soon after... Rarity knew without a doubt Twilight would take every opportunity to sate her curiosity regarding Anon and his people, soaking the knowledge in like a sponge. And who knows. She might very well have connected the dots regarding humans and sex much, much sooner and spared everypony this whole debacle. Had they all understood each other better, Twilight and the others could have approached the idea for heat relief from a different angle... perhaps even Anonymous would help them on his own volition. How perfect would that be? Rarity huffed in frustration, shaking her head. It wouldn’t do to dwell on what-ifs and could-have-beens. She sensed there was still something to this whole divide between pony and human that they didn’t account for, if by nothing more than her feminine intuition. But how to go about it? Twilight was out of her element here. Rarity had seen firsthoof the strides she’d made in becoming a great friend and pony alike, shedding a considerable part of her more... prickly tendencies from those earlier days, yet she also sensed her to be floundering in this particular moment. A movement from the corner of her vision caught her eye. Anon’s telltale figure closed in, nearing the treehouse. She ruthlessly suppressed the momentary spike of panic and urge to flee somewhere else and instead closed the book. Gingerly stepping out into the main room, she could see Twilight still fussing over something or other, her nose buried in a book. Two more hovered on either side of it. Casting a simple spell to muffle her hoofsteps, Rarity carefully made her way across the room and out the door, delicately closing it behind her. She turned around and came face to face with him. “Hey,” he said simply. “Hello.” Only through years of practice dedicated to the manner in which she carried herself allowed Rarity to not fidget and squirm under his gaze. “We know, the girls and I. Twilight told us. About last night.” “...Okay.” Rarity took a breath and steeled herself. “I hope you won’t think too poorly of us, darling. If we made you feel... lesser by our intentions, then please believe me when I say that is not what we wanted.” He nodded. “I believe you.” Rarity nearly choked. “R-really?” He shrugged. “I’ve had some time to think. Talked to Lyra. Talked to Bon Bon. That helped. Helped give me perspective.” Rarity blinked rapidly, her thoughts a whirlwind. She hadn’t anticipated this. “You’re not angry with us?” He shrugged again and looked away. “Maybe a little, I dunno.” “I... don’t understand.” Anon laughed; a brief, abrupt sound. “You took the words right out of my mouth.” When she still looked confused, he elaborated. “What the six of you did was underhanded.” Rarity winced. Her ears splayed back. “Yes.” “You didn’t take me into account when you made your little plan.” Another wince. “True.” His expression softened. “At least you’re honest. Guess I should be too.” He took a deep breath and said, “I kinda jumped into things without knowing what I was getting into. This whole...” He gestured back and forth between them. “Getting with ponies business? Sex? It’s a heavy topic where I come from. In the community where I was raised. We don’t trade it back and forth like favors. It’s more... meaningful.” Rarity nodded. “Twilight said something along those lines.” “I don’t think she understood it, even when I told her. I’m guessing you girls didn’t either?” Rarity shook her head. “I should have seen it. It was right in front of me all this time and I should have seen it,” he said. “Or maybe I would have if I actually bothered to look into it. You could have excused it, back when I was new to all this, but I’ve been living here for some time. I’ve known for a good long while Equestria’s gonna be my home. What excuse did I have then, for the past year? Sex is a big part of life for you ponies. It is for us too. “If things had gone backward—if one of you guys found their way into my world instead, then they would never understand my people. Not if they followed what I did here, burying my head in the sand every time the subject came up. That’s me. That’s what I did. Even if I didn’t intend to romance a mare, it wouldn’t matter. By looking the other way I blinded myself to a big part of who you are. How could I blame Twilight? How could I get angry with her, with you girls for not understanding my point of view when I never bothered to learn yours in the first place?” He shuffled in place, rubbing the back of his head. “I still think it’s wrong what you did, how you went about it. I don’t believe you intended to hurt me, but still...” Rarity swallowed. Her mouth felt dry. “So what happens now? Where do we go from here?” He almost smiled. “Forward, maybe? I’m... fond of you girls. I don’t think you’re bad ponies. I don’t think I’ll forget what you tried to do either, but you’ve been good friends to me. I’d like to think it means something.” He got down on one knee and held his fist forward. “There’s probably a ways to go before we ‘get’ each other. Really properly. But I’d like to try again, if you’re up to it.” Rarity’s breath hitched. She bit her lip. Tears stung her eyes. She barreled forward past his outstretched fist and threw her legs around him, nearly knocking him flat. She didn’t trust herself to speak and so squeezed him tight, hoping to convey through sheer contact what words could not. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her close.
Transformation MiscalculationView OnlineHeat SeasonTransformation Miscalculation“Now, transformation magic is fairly straightforward at its baser levels,” Twilight explained, bringing attention to the chalkboard. Three figures, each one drawn directly below the other. Three more figures were drawn parallel from the originals, separated by an arrow; a stick to a ruler, a stone to a paperweight and a coffee mug to a delicate teacup. “It can rapidly grow considerably more complex in tandem with the nature of the transformation itself—animal to mineral, mammal to avian, bipedal to quadruped... you get the idea. So while it is theoretically possible to turn you into a pony, certain preparations are needed. That’s where Rarity comes in. She’ll be acting as our focal point during the process.” Rarity cleared her throat. “Ah, Twilight?” Twilight blinked, momentarily puzzled at the pointed look Rarity threw her way. “Oh, right.” She turned back to Anon. “Since you are clearly not of this world, it would be... unwise to transform you without taking certain precautions. That is why for now, I will cast a spell to,” She paused thoughtfully. “Scan you, for lack of a better word. Get an idea for your unique physiological and structural framework. After all, we wouldn’t want you to transform and revert back missing an important piece,” she finished with a nervous laugh. Anon didn’t laugh along. In fact, he looked rather concerned. From the corner of her eye, Twilight could see Rarity facehoof and shake her head. “That was a joke.” He didn’t look convinced. “Is it?” “That is why I’m here, darling,” Rarity said. “There’s something about you that can cause... interference with Equestrian magic. From my experience, it can be bypassed with enough concentration and practice. My own magic touch will act as a sort of focus; a way for Twilight to properly apply her spell without worry of interference or disruption.” Anon shuffled in place. “Is that gonna be enough? I mean, no offense to you but, uh...” Rarity smiled in understanding. “Not to worry. It’s a technique unicorn parents use to help teach their foals magic. My own parents used it to help me refine my spells and casting, back in my fillyhood days. It’s not particularly intensive or complex, but it does demand a certain level of precision and focus, both of which I have in spades.” “Then let’s get to it.” The three took their respective positions in the library’s main room—Twilight and Rarity next to each other, across from Anon. Twilight enveloped the modest area in which they stood within a force field. Unlike her typical one, this variant had some telling distinctions. Rather than taking the form of a bubble, its surface resembled a thin, swirling mist; sky blue in color. Small twinkles of light shimmered periodically within the swirling mist. She explained it as making a temporary ‘clean’ area, free of any possible residual magical effects or signatures. At Twilight’s cue, Rarity extended a translucent tendril of her own magic, snaking its way across the air until landing on Anon’s chest. It steadily grew, spreading out, until his whole body was enveloped in Rarity’s magical aura. A similar tendril shimmered from Twilight’s own horn, melding with Rarity’s just shy of halfway of the distance between themselves and Anon. Twiligt’s own distinct aura advanced within Rarity’s until she too reached and spread within the surface of Anon’s body. Twilight frowned, making some slight adjustments. “How do you feel?” she asked Anon. “Tingly. I taste... purple. Is that normal?” Twilight nearly laughed. “There’s no precedent for any of this, using an otherworldly subject. I’d need to do rigorous testing, preferably with another human from your own homeworld to act as a control subject before I’m even remotely comfortable answering that question.” Rarity sighed. “Twilight, dear...” She blinked, regarding Rarity with slight confusion until realization dawned. “W-what I mean to say is, ah...” Anon waved a hand. “It’s alright. I got the gist.” “There really is no need to worry,” Twilight assured him. “Like I said, we are only scanning you for today so we can see where to go from here. Simple procedure. Minimally invasive. Nothing to worry about. Are you ready to begin?” He nodded. Twilight concentrated and sent another pulse of magic through Rarity’s connection. The magical field enveloping Anon rippled. “Interesting...” Twilight mumbled. “Do you feel any different?” Anon clenched his hand into a fist, experimentally pumping his forearm up and down. “It’s getting a bit numb now.” Twilight hummed. “Let me know if it gets too uncomfortable.” At that moment, both her and Rarity flinched in surprise. “What is it?” he asked. “Nothing, nothing,” Twilight said quickly. “Just a bit of feedback. Let me... readjust the spell a bit and... there.” The two mares’ magical aura immediately brightened and the two flinched back again. “Twilight?” Rarity said, casting a sideways glance at her. Twilight barely seemed to register the question. Her eyes were narrowed, peering at Anon’s shimmering form. “Hang on. I just need to...” The brightness increased. There was a crackle in the air. The ponies’ arua rippled, blurring Anon’s form. “Twilight!” Rarity said sharply. “Maintain the connection!” she snapped, her teeth bared, eyes not leaving her target. Her features were twisted to a mask of focus and dogged determination. Beads of sweat pooled on her brow. “I can fix this! I can fix it, I just need...” Twilight poured more power into the spell. The sheer amount of magic in the air was palpable. It made Rarity’s fur stand on end. She cast another sideways glance at Twilight. The mare was hunched low, as though ready to charge, stubbornly trying to maintain the unraveling spell. Their combined magic swirled around Anon’s form, enveloping him like a cocoon. Rarity bit her lip, unsure of what to do. Advanced magic had never been her forte yet even she knew throwing a sudden element or altering the process could have unforeseen consequences... especially with the amount of power Twilight was putting out. She made a split-second decision to cut the connection altogether. Things happened before she could do so. Her magic connection faded and broke abruptly, overcome by Twilight’s superior output. Her magic tendril coiled back and forth like a thrashing snake; where before it was transluscent, it now became an energy beam of pure, incandescent magic. The cocoon shrouding Anon grew in intensity, becoming painful to look at. The swirling, sky-blue shield covering the small area burst, blown away as though by a strong wind. The cocoon exploded outward, scattering countless motes of shimmering, residual magic that lazily trailed down like a thick winter snowfall, so dense that Rarity could barely see in front of her, her vision filled with glittering, sparkling lights. “Anonymous? Darling? Are you alright?” she made her way past the receding motes of lights, bumping into his leg. Anon blinked repeatedly, rubbing his eyes. He appeared dazed but looked no worse for wear. He looked down, as if just noticing Rarity’s presence. “How are you feeling?” she asked. He looked away and coughed repeatedly, expelling dozens of purple sparks. “Oof,” he said, smacking his lips. He squinted, probably a result of being at the center of a rather bright lightshow. He patted his body from the top down, giving himself a thorough once over. “Think I’m okay,” he mumbled, examining every inch of his face and head. “Nothing seems out of place.” Rarity sighed in relief. “Goodness. I was worried it might be a bit too soon. I thought Twilight might need a bit more preparation to go through with this whole idea, but she insisted it’d be fine. She’s not one to miscalculate on matters of magic but...” She trailed off. There was a strange look in his face. Something she’d never seen before. She followed his gaze over to where... where... Rarity gawped. Where Twilight had been not moments ago now sat a human girl. Rarity had seen enough illustrations of them to recognize her at a glance. She sat there, slack-jawed, naked, her face a mask of bewildered, wide-eyed astonishment. Her sole focus was on her fingers, which she wiggled experimentally. But unlike most illustrations Rarity had seen, this one’s skin color was off. Purple. Her eyes trailed up the girl’s face, noting the horn that protruded from her forehead. A pair of feathery wings behind her twitched anxiously. “Twilight?” Rarity said faintly. She saw it, clear as day and could barely bring herself to believe it. This new form of Twilight looked up, meeting her eye. “I think,” she said, her voice an exact match for the erstwhile alicorn. “I might have miscalculated.” Author's Note Dun dun..........DUUUUUUUUNNN!!! Now we're really cooking
Almost Human - Part 1View OnlineHeat SeasonAlmost Human - Part 1"...I might have miscalculated." She glanced down again and wriggled her fingers. They were so... wriggly! And so many of them. Her gaze moved on, now to her body. “Huh.” Where previously her chest and body was covered by a layer of fur, she now saw an expanse of bare skin. Two particular somethings commaded her attention. Were they... mammaries? They must have been. Her teats were nowhere to be seen, further down her body. She patted her pelvic area, just to be sure. Nope, nothing. They really did move all the way up her body. How... strange. She cupped them in her new hands and applied the slightest pressure. “Amazing,” she whispered. Soft and supple. These sensations were nothing new to her, but the sheer disparity in tactile touch where hands and hooves were concerned was... well, it could not compare. She turned her hands over. Ten nails. So much smaller and more delicate than her hooves. She brushed the tips of her fingers over them, fascinated. Next her hair. A considerable amount spilled over her shoulder. She ran her new fingers down between the strands. Soothing. Relaxing. How curious. She ran her hand along the surface of the unvarnished wooden floor, picking up all kinds of little imperfections, grooves, bumps and indentations that so far had gone unnoticed by her hooves. “Twilight? Darling?” Rarity stood a few hoofbeats away from her. A slight, worried frown creased her features. Twilight blinked, fully taking the visage of her friend in. “Rarity...” Rarity raised an eyebrow as Twilight got on her hands and knees and advanced, a slight wobble to her gait. Her eyes remained fixed on Rarity, looking her up and down, as though taking her in properly for the first time. “You look... You’re so...” Rarity blinked as Twilight reached out and cupped her cheeks in her hands. “Cute!” “Wha...” Rarity let out a small, dainty yelp as Twilight pulled her into an embrace. Twilight hugged her smaller friend to her chest. Cute. It’s not a word she normally associated with Rarity. Glamorous, yes. Beautiful, yes. Refined? Without a doubt. But cute? Twilight couldn’t explain it, but she’d suddenly been overcome by a maddening urge to hug her friend close and... pet her. To run her hands over and over that silky soft coat of hers and never let go. “T-Twilight?” She felt Rarity’s hoof gingerly tap her on the side. Her eyes snapped open and, coming now back to her senses, Twilight released her grip. “Heh... sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I, uh, I’m not sure what came over me.” “Quite alright,” Rarity said easily. “They’re very... soothing. Those new fingers of yours.” She cleared her throat. “Speaking of, what exactly... how did you... what in the world happened? Why are you... almost human?” Twilight frowned, examining the lines and creases in the palms of her hands. “I couldn’t say. I’m not sure, not yet. I... might have an idea, but I’ll have to go over our process. Retrace our steps and see where it might have gone wrong.” “Yes, that,” Rarity cleared her throat again. “That sounds well and good, darling. But, ah...” she leaned in close and whispered. “We are in polite company, dear.” Twilight cocked her head, not understanding. Rarity glanced down at her new chest, then back again with a pointed look. She then tilted her head back, as if signaling for Twilight to follow. Twilight did so, and her eyes found Anon’s. He stood ramrod stiff, locked on to her. His face had turned a concerning shade of red. Twilight couldn’t blame him, having gone so long without seeing another human. Well, a close approximation. But... his eyes did not meet hers. They were focused downward, down to her... “Eep!” Twilight’s whole body twisted as she turned her back to him, now on all fours and the regretfully familiar heat of embarrassment flaring in her face. She almost wanted to smack her head onto the nearby bookshelf. Presenting her teats to a stallion, one whom she’d just barely managed to get back on speaking terms with... how rude, nigh presumptuous, of her. She heard the distinct sound of a hoof meeting a face. “Twilight!” Rarity hissed. “For goodness’ sake, mare. Turn around.” She cocked her head, wondering what had gotten into Rarity. Upon glancing back, Twilight saw her friend blushing, averting her eyes. Anonymous looked about ready to faint. Twilight followed his line of sight, down to her rump. All color drained from her face. Her tail was... gone. Nowhere to be seen. In this position, on all fours, facing away from him, Twilight’s eyes widened with dawning horror. He could see everything. Somepony screamed. Twilight realized it was her. With a flash of magic, she teleported out of sight and into her bed. The feathery softness was a welcome change from the rather uncomfortable floor and she immediately buried herself within the covers, cocooning herself in the familiar, cozy darkness. She buried her face in her hoov—er, hands and suppressed another wail of despair. How could this be? Was Discord plotting against her? Why did she keep embarrassing herself—in front of him, of all ponies? She was a princess now, darn it! She had an image to uphold. Her hand reached backward, grasping for... She groaned. Of course. Her tail was no longer there. Her mom used to brush it for her as a filly and Twilight herself would periodically curl up and bring it close, running her hoof throughout its long tresses. A comforting habit for when things got to be a bit too... much. Sighing, she contented herself to stroke her hair instead. It was going to be a long day. Author's Note Little side note. While Twilight does share her EqG counterpart's skin tone, her bodily proportions are those of a 'normal' human.
Almost Human - Part 2View OnlineHeat SeasonAlmost Human - Part 2Anon tugged at the collar of his shirt. Everything suddenly seemed warmer for some reason. Well, that’d be a lie. He knew full well why he’d gotten all hot and bothered. Rarity stared up at the second landing, where Twilight had presumably teleported herself. She made as if to go up herself, but thought better of it. “Twilight seems to be,” she said, still blushing. “Indisposed at the moment.” It took a moment for the implication to sink in. “R-right.” He coughed. “Right.” It was almost as if a veil had been lifted and he’d regained full control of his capabilities. “I should... probably go. Let her deal with her, um... yeah.” He moved to the door when a shout from upstairs cut him off. “Stop. Wait! Rarity, don’t let him leave!” The two of them looked up at the second landing. Neither could see Twilight from their vantage point, but they certainly heard her. Anon heard the shuffling and tossing of fabric and a slight wooden creak. Something crashed onto the floor of the landing, followed by a small exclamation of distress. Rarity had already started to make her way up the stairs when the telltale flash and crack of teleportation drew her and Anon’s attention. Twilight apparated herself before the exit of the library, blocking his way. Anon had to look down at her. She appeared to be kneeling, with what looked like a bedsheet wrapped all around herself; only her head poked out. There was a red imprint on the left side of her face, as though she’d been struck by something. “There might be,” she said. “Complications. With you, with us. It may be excessive, and nothing... bad might come of it, but you should stay here for now.” Anon was struck by her appearance. Now that Twilight was well and truly covered and Anon had no other... distractions drawing his gaze elsewhere, he took a proper look at the transformed princess. Her skin maintained her original coat color, albeit in a slightly lighter hue. She was... cute. Pretty, in a librarian-next-door sort of way. Soft, rounded features with almond-shaped eyes. He idly mused a pair of glasses would complement her. Once he got past the skin tone, the horn and the multicolored hair, she could reliably pass for a normal human girl. He averted his gaze. He couldn’t trust himself to not keep on staring. “For observation, you mean?” She nodded eagerly. “It’s just a precaution.” “In case of what? I turn into a puddle of goop?” “Wha... no. Nothing like that. I know it’s sudden, but it really would be best. O-or did you have plans for today?” He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t push back.” “Good,” she said, relieved. “And, sorry. About all this. And for, ah,” she blushed anew. “It’s fine, really,” he said quickly. “Sorry for... staring.” She smiled tentatively and looked away. “Well, make yourself comfortable.” She promptly started an awkward sort of gait, using one hand to keep the covers tightly wrapped around her, using her knees and remaining free hand to shuffle toward the bookshelves. “I need to do some light research. See if I can find any possible answers as to what just happened. Maybe even... oof!” She tumbled forward, smacking her face against the floor. Rarity cleared her throat. “Twilight, darling? I don’t claim to be an expert on matters of biology and such, but wouldn’t it make more sense to... walk as a human does? That form does not look suitable for a pony’s trot.” “It really isn’t,” Anon agreed. “Crawling like that is meant to be a placeholder for babies until they learn to walk.” Twilight spat the hair out of her mouth. “You may be right.” Now recovered, she knelt again. She looked about herself, her brow creased to a slight, pondering frown. She made odd movements, like half-hearted lunges upward. “Hmm.” She looked up at Anon and said, “How do humans get up?” He tried explaining. That didn’t work. He then tried to demonstrate, with limited success. Truth be told, he’d have been surprised had Twilight gotten the hang of it so quick. She’d been living her whole life as a pony. Of course she wouldn’t be used to a human body—the way it moved and all the quirks that came with it. She’d need to learn an entirely new way to balance herself. In the end he grabbed her by the elbow and tried to help hoist her up. She was... delicate. A bit lighter than normal for a girl her size. She maintained the sheets in place with her free hand. Slowly, Anon lifted her. Twilight helped by using her legs to maintain her balance and push herself along. They shook considerably, her muscles unaccustomed to their new shape and length. “Wow,” she said, looking about the library. “Everything’s... smaller.” Rarity smiled. “It’s you who’s gotten tall, darling.” Twilight chuckled. She stood maybe a head shorter than Anon, though even then her posture was slightly hunched over, her legs spread apart more than normal to help balance herself. She clutched his arm tight with her free hand. He himself had a different internal battle to fight, and now regretted helping Twilight, at least in a manner that put them in such a compromising positon. His mind knew she was still the same dorky, slightly awkward alicorn princess under her current facade. His body though... it only knew to be in close contact with an attractive girl who under those sheets, was naked as a bluejay. And having seen firsthand how... pleasingly proportioned she looked under those very same sheets, well, it put him in a bit of an awkward situation. “Alright, then,” she said more confidently. “I suppose walking comes next. Is there a trick to it?” “Not... really? It’s more or less a manner of controlled falling. Put one foot in front of the other and just... catch yourself. And take care not to fall along the process. That’s really the best way I can put it.” Twilight nodded. “Not too different from trotting on all fours, then.” She took a small, tentative step. Then another. “It’s not so bad,” she said, smiling. Anon cleared his throat. “Think you can go it alone from here?” He hoped she’d say yes. He also desperately wanted her to say no. She nodded. “Let’s try it.” He eased his grip on her and slightly backed off. Surprisingly, Twilight remained standing, her face crinkled in concentration as she maintained her balance. She took a tiny step forward and wobbled slightly. “I don’t know how you... bipeds do it,” she mumbled. “Aren’t you always in danger of falling?” Anon shrugged. “Pretty much. It’s a constant battle with gravity, but we make do.” “No offense, but I think I prefer hooves. Four legs.” Anon laughed. “None taken.” Twilight turned her head to offer a small smile. It vanished instantly and her eyes widened in panic. The mere action destabilized her tenuous balance and her whole body tilted sideways, ready to crash onto the hard floor. Anon acted on reflex and lunged forward. He grabbed her around the waist and yanked her from her trajectory. Twilight flailed her arms. They latched around Anon’s neck and gripped him like a vise. Human and not-quite-pony froze, staring wide-eyed. Their bodies were in full contact with each other. Twilight looked down. Her flailing served to help her grab on to Anon and stop her fall. It also sent the bedsheets flying, leaving her stark naked and pressed against him. The familiar red hue returned in full force. Her arms went limp and her legs gave out. She fell to her knees and doubled over, pressing her face between her palms. A piteous whine resonated in the otherwise quiet library. Approaching hoofbeats marked Rarity’s presence. She used her magic to retrieve the sheets and wrapped them around the prostrated Twilight. “Not to worry, darling,” Rarity said soothingly. “Just leave it to me. Anon, dear?” She turned to him. “Would you mind waiting in the kitchen? Twilight here’s going to need an appropriate... garment for her new state. There’s not much here to design a proper article, but I can whip up something for the short term.” He needed no futher prompting and made himself scarce. He made a beeline for the sink and splashed cold water all over his face. “Jesus,” he muttered, willing his thoughts not to stray where they shouldn’t. He’d just made up with the little alicorn, hoping the two of them could, for the third time now, move on from the past and start things over, hopefully with a new understanding of each other. Well, he thought wryly, maybe they actually would, just not with the way he planned. He splashed more cold water on his face and shivered, offsetting the otherwise burning heat that had flared within him. It was going to be a long day. Author's Note Poor, poor Twilight. I'd feel bad for bullying her if it wasn't so dang fun to do it.
Almost Human - Part 3View OnlineHeat SeasonAlmost Human - Part 3Rarity hummed a tune to herself as she worked. It wasn’t her first time improvising a new outfit on the spot, nor her first time designing something for a humanoid type of build. It was, however, her first time designing something for a female figure. Twilight stood in front of her. It took more than a little effort and a touch of her own magic to help support herself, but she eventually managed to stand back up, placing a hand on a nearby bookshelf to help balance her new body. The measuring tape hovered from here to there, taking in her new proportions. Rarity made a note of them on a nearby scrap of parchment. Twilight sighed forlornly. Rarity looked up. “Everything alright, dear?” “Just thinking.” “Anything in particular?” Twilight gave her a look. “Right. I can imagine.” Now finished taking Twilight’s measurements, she placed the tape off to the side and let her know she need no longer stand. Twilight more or less let herself fall, her rump hitting a strategically placed floor cushion. “It’s just,” she said, wrapping the blanket around her naked body. “I keep wondering. What happens now? Where can we all go from here?” Rarity hummed. “We? Or you?” She held some fabric up in her magic and used a pair of shears to cut it into more manageable pieces; her improvised workstation, a table that Twilight had levitated from somewhere in the upper levels of the treehouse. “Both? I don’t know,” she mumbled. “It is a bit of a tricky situation, isn’t it?” “Yes. Yes it is and I have no idea how to... fix it.” Rarity hummed again. “Just to be clear, darling, are we talking about your new,” She paused. “Look?” Twilight waved a hand. “No, no. It’s only temporary. I just need to wait it out.” “Then what are you worried about?” Twilight sighed. She jabbed a fist toward the kitchen. “Him. I don’t know how to... him.” Rarity smiled sympathetically. “The two of you do have a habit of starting on the wrong hoof.” “And I don’t know how to fix it,” she said. “Celestia sent me here to study friendship. It’s... me. It’s my specialty. Or it’s supposed to be. Look at us, all we’ve been through. You, me, the others... there’s so much we’ve learned since we formed our little circle. All this time, all those lessons—you'd think I’d have an idea how to mend things up with him but... but I just...” She sighed in frustration. Rarity hummed. “You make it sound difficult.” “Well? Isn’t it? We...” she bit her lip. “From his perspective, I tried to use him. You girls and he were friends. You would have stayed friends and everything would be fine if I didn’t come along and just... just...” she sniffed and angrily wiped her eye. “Ruined everything.” “That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? You didn’t know better. None of us did.” “I could have,” she mumbled. “All this time. I could have... I don’t know. I could have tried to—” “Come now, darling. You know better than to fall into that trap. There’s plenty all of us could have done to... understand him better. And you heard what Anon said. He could have taken initiative and tried to take that first step himself. If it’s blame you’re looking for, there’s plenty to go around.” Twilight scoffed. “What do you suggest, then?” Now that the fabric was cut to her liking, Rarity threaded a needle and began to work. “Have you tried, I don’t know, talking to him?” Twilight gave her a look. “When you came to me with this whole... transformation business, well, I must admit I had my doubts. It seemed,” She paused. “Well, it seemed to me you were so eager to... please him and get on his good graces, you might have overlooked other possible threads to make it right. I didn’t want to say anything at the moment. I thought the two of you might have started to mend things in your own way, but after everything I’ve seen, well...” Twilight had the grace to look abashed. “Now, I’ve known dear Anonymous for some time. Longer than you have, darling. I’ve a good idea for his character, I’d like to think, and I can tell you right now he’s just as eager as you to make things right. Why not start there?” Twilight considered this. “So, talk. Just talk?” Rarity smiled. “Like you said, we’ve been through our share of friendship problems—you, me and the girls. How many of them have been solved by just... talking? Trying to understand each other? I know you’re trying, darling, but I don’t believe a big, grand gesture is the way to go about it. Foal steps, is what I’m saying. And if nothing else, you now have a unique opportunity.” At Twilight’s questioning look, she continued. “He wanted to become a pony, however briefly, to try and understand us better. But the horseshoe is now on the other hoof.” Twilight’s eyes lit up in understanding. She was human now, or at least a close approximation. Not just in body, of this she was sure. “Rarity, you’re a genius.” She smiled. “Merely observant. Now, I’m almost finished here. Just need to apply a few finishing touches. Do you have a board and a clothes iron in here somewhere?” When Rarity went to check in on him, Anon couldn’t deny being the slightest bit nervous. She’d promptly closed down the library for the day, hanging the ‘Closed’ sign just out the door. In most other towns, this might have merited the raise of an eyebrow from the average pedestrian or government official, but for Ponyville, it was par for the course. None would pay it much mind. “All finished,” she told him. “You’ll find Twilight more presentable now. It’s not my finest work, but it’ll do in a pinch.” It might have been unwarranted, maybe even uncalled for, but his heart sank a bit at the prospect of meeting the erstwhile alicorn. The two didn’t have the best track record, and he couldn’t help but wonder if something else would happen to drive the point home. He nearly smacked himself for tempting fate, but he’d come this far now. In her own way, Twilight did try to help him out with this whole business, so he could at the very least meet her halfway. Especially seeing how the supposed spell backfired on her. A modest table had been placed at the center of the main room. As with most pony-minded furniture, this one hung close to the ground. Four floor cushions had been arranged on either side of it, with Twilight having already claimed her spot. Rarity then excused herself, saying something about tending to matters in her boutique. This left Anon and Twilight alone. She smiled tentatively. A faint blush lingered in her cheeks. Twilight gestured to the table and said, “Come and sit. Make yourself comfortable.” He moved more stiffly than he cared to, trying not to look but trying not to make it look like he was trying not to look... with limited success. If Twilight noticed, she didn’t say anything, and maintained that slightly nervous smile. Anon appraised her new garment. She wore... well, he had no idea what to call it. If pressed, he’d liken the thing to a cross between a dress and an apron. It was a simple, one-piece cloth, eggshell white in color, held in place by a loop fastened around Twilight’s neck. Her arms and upper back remained bare, uncovered so as to not constrain her wings. Curiously enough, they themselves (along with her horn) largely retained their pony-like proportions, looking far too small for flight. “Rarity works fast,” he said. Twilight was quick to latch on. “Y-yes. Yes! She sure does.” She laughed nervously. Anon sat. He cleared his throat and said, “I didn’t mean to stare.” “It’s okay,” Twilight said. “It must be strange for you, all this. Me looking like, well...” “You’re the one it happened to,” Anon pointed out. “If it’s strange for me, I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.” He chanced another look at her, studying her new features and said, “So, how do you feel? What’s it like?” Twilight smiled wanly. “I feel... tall? Bigger?” She chuckled nervously and raised a hand. “These are something else. You can feel so much more with them.” She idly brushed her fingers over the spine of a book. “Our hooves don’t have the means to process this sheer amount of sensory input. It’s not unusual for ponies to use their mouths in place of them, and that’s what comes closest, at least when it comes to feel. And...” She used her magic to levitate a thicker, fluffier blanket from the second landing and wrapped it around herself. “All this skin. It’s so... sensitive. And so susceptible to temperature changes. I know that rationally, this weather is perfect. A bit breezy, a bit crisp maybe, but perfect. I could walk around as a pony all day and not be the slightest bit bothered. But this new form... I want nothing more than to bundle myself up.” “Sounds about right. It’s not unusual for women—ah, female humans—to want to layer up. They’re more sensitive to cold.” Twilight nodded. “I used to think it was excessive, you wearing all those layers. Especially in winter. I suppose you actually do need them.” “Not like you guys. I’ve seen more than a few of you make snow ponies and wear nothing at all.” Twilight shivered at the prospect of making snow ponies on a human body alone, but then giggled. “Does this mean humans in your world have settled mostly on warm areas?” “At first, sure. That’s where we started out. As we got smarter and craftier, we figured out ways to adapt to all sorts of climates. Nowadays we’re spread out all over the world.” It took Anon a moment, but this made him realize he’d been searching for the answer to a particular question for some time now. “Speaking of, that’s something I’ve been wondering about you guys.” At Twilight’s encouraging nod, he continued. “The history books say you ponies weren’t originally from this land. You had your start somewhere else?” Twilight nodded. “We don’t know exactly where we originated. Some bits and pieces have turned up throughout history, but record keeping methods were... unrefined in those days, and not always reliable. We don’t even know the name of the three tribes’ original homeland. The leading theory is that a majority of whatever records the old tribes did keep in those times were... left behind. Forgotten during the mass exodus to Equestria. Clover the Clever was able to salvage most of his personal collection and that alone is our largest repository of pre-Equestrian knowledge from the time, but who’s to say how many other sources were lost through the years.” She sighed wistfully. “All that knowledge. Well, I suppose we can’t judge them too harshly. The windigos were out in force back then. Times were... difficult. Resources scarce. It makes sense they would take with them only the bare essentials.” She brought up her knuckles to tap her chin. “The names, though. We don’t even know what our ancestors called their homeland. It’s... stuck with me. Why wouldn’t it be passed down? Not just us, but the earth ponies and pegasi as well. Every pony, every single new arrival to this land knew it. Why leave it behind? Why not preserve it for future generations? It must have been a deliberate action. I find it difficult to believe otherwise. There are some who think the ponies were ashamed of who they used to be. That their newfound connections and friendship shed a new light on the more... disreputable aspects of the societies they left behind. They chose to move on. By leaving the names and memories of their land behind—to be lost to history, they could forget and disassociate themselves from who they used to be, and start anew in the fresh, unspoiled lands of Equestria.” She trailed off and appeared to be lost in thought. Anon waved a hand. He cleared his throat to get her attention. Twilight started out of her musings. Her eyes focused again on him and she ducked her head, abashed. “Heh... sorry,” she said. “Uh, what were you saying?” “About you ponies. I was wondering if there are more of you outside Equestria. The Crystal Empire too. Nothing I’ve seen suggests you guys have settled down outside of here.” “Well, no. Why would we? Equestria has everything we could want.” “And you guys never saw any reason to expand? Even before Celestia and Luna came along?” Twilight stared at him quizzically, and he elaborated. “To claim more lands or resources. Maybe... I dunno, some of the islands off the Equestrian Sea?” “But some of those are claimed by Griffonstone. Others are inhabited, or settled by outlaws and pirates.” “In my world, some hundreds of years ago, many nations would jump at the chance to claim such territories, sometimes by force. If nothing else than for a strategic advantage, in case tensions between nations escalate.” “That... sounds like a guaranteed way to make sure tensions escalate.” Anon snorted. “Well, you’re not wrong.” “I’m not sure I understand.” “Ignore me,” he said, waving a hand. “Just another of those human things. Many of our leaders couldn’t help but stir things up. They still did in my time, come to think of it.” “It sounds... chaotic.” Anon laughed. “You’re not wrong on that either.” Twilight appeared disturbed. “Our people are descended from wanderers. Expansionists. Conquerors. Our blood runs a bit hotter than ponies, I guess. Probably explains why you guys are content to live and let live.” He could see the poorly concealed interest in Twilight’s eyes and if Anon were honest with himself, he’d be just as keen to keep the conversation going. That is, if he hadn’t a more pressing matter to clear up. Namely, this whole botched transformation business. Twilight ducked her head a bit once he brought it up—a pony habit for showing chagrin or abashment, one she’d retained in her quasi-human form. “I might have,” she said meekly. “Left something out, during the process.” She bit her lip. A small battle seemed to be going on inside her. “Once the process began and I cast the spell proper, I might have... altered it a little.” Twilight could see he readied to say something, and the words spilled forth from her in a rush. “I didn’t think anything would happen. It was supposed to be simple. I wanted to... to get a sense of your perspective. F-for what a female human was, I mean, how they looked like. I thought it was an interesting experiment, what you said. Walking for a day in the hooves of a pony? It made me think—the girls and I, you and us... we come from very different upbringings. I thought... well, if you were willing to do this, to try and understand us better, then we—I could do the same. I thought,” she blushed. “I thought it’s the least I could do, considering.” Anon was silent for a long moment. Twilight began to fidget as it stretched. “Guess Applejack was right.” “How so?” she said. “‘That girl’s a good enough pony. One of the best I met, I reckon, but she does have a way of leaping before she looks proper.’ Her words, more or less.” “So you’re not angry?” “Let’s just say I’m trying to keep an open mind. We both are, I think. Just, no more last-minute spell alterations. Or at least keep me informed. Deal?” Twilight smiled tentatively. “Deal.” Anon nodded and returned the smile. Twilight relaxed visibly. “There’s still something I don’t understand,” he continued. “How did you transform? It’s not like you were trying for that... or were you?” “I wasn’t,” she said thoughtfully. “I cast no such spell. It really was designed to scan you and nothing else, but...” Twilight trailed off, lost in thought. “Well, the first step to cast a spell is a conduit—that’s where a unicorn’s horn comes in; a way to channel and manipulate the flow of magic. Next, intent. I intended to cast a relatively simple, non-transformative spell. That went off without a hitch, although...” She lapsed into another bout of silence. Anon stayed quiet, knowing he was out of his depth here. “I transformed into a human,” she muttered. “But I didn’t intend to transform into one. So where could have it gone wrong, unless...” She looked up to Anon. He got the distinct feeling she was evaluating him, her eyes measuring him in terms of parts and ratios. “During that whole process,” she continued. “Were you... thinking about something? What was going through your mind?” Anon scratched the back of his head. “I mean... mostly I focused on what was going on. The spell and all. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a light show quite like that. But,” he continued. “Once everything started to get... brighter, I kinda started to get second thoughts.” “And?” Twilight said encouragingly. “And I reminded myself why I was going through all this. I...” he paused. “Transformation. That’s what was on my mind. Why I was there and why I wanted to do it.” Twilight nodded feverishly. “I see. Even with Rarity’s help, I could sense your body was... resistant to the spell.” “In what way? How does it even work?” Twilight shook her head. “I don’t have nearly enough information to answer that question. If I had to come up with a possible theory—and that’s really all it is, I’d say your body is naturally resistant to Equestrian magic. From what I’ve been able to gather, magic does not exist in your world. Right?” Anon confirmed this. “Equestria is unusually abundant in ambient magic. It permeates everything and everywhere within its borders, especially here in the heartlands. And then there’s you. An unknown, outside factor. A non-magical entity. A foreign traveler from, possibly, another reality altogether, coming into contact for the first time ever with a panoptic force that has touched every creature and every corner of this world at their most fundamental levels since time immemorial.” She hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not such a mystery altogether, though it is still a theory.” “And how does that factor into you turning human? Ish.” “Let’s review what we know for certain.” She held up a finger. “We know that with Rarity’s help, I successfully cast a spell on you. In casting the spell, I altered it to a degree—to better gain a human’s personal understanding of what a female variant is like.” She ticked off a second finger. “To cast a complex transformation—human to pony or otherwise—a strong and clear sense of intent is needed. Yours, for instance.” She now held up a thumb. “I channeled sufficient power into the spell right near the end. More than enough to carry out a transformation.” A fourth finger now. “You may not have noticed, but Rarity’s connection... broke. Overpowered by mine. While my own magical output surpasses hers, she has greater handle on precision—useful for more delicate and exact tasks. It does mean that without her help, I was unable to maintain the spell, as your body naturally rejected my magic... or vice versa. Still not enough data to make a solid conclusion. Anyway,” She ticked off her pinky. “Losing Rarity’s help resulted in a magical backlash, as both my magic and your body were incompatible. Let’s keep in mind that up to that point, the spell had more or less been cast successfully. You were suffused in my own magical touch—enveloped by it.” Anon scratched his head. “And while you were trying to get a glimpse into what a human girl was, along with getting a good sense of the human form, I threw in my own intent into the mix.” Twilight nodded encouragingly. “So when everything went wrong and you got hit by your own spell, which carried my own baggage along with it...” Twilight examined her hand. “It would explain why the transformation was... imperfect. I mean, I assume most humans don’t have this skin color? Or horns and wings, for that matter?” Anon shook his head. “Not naturally. Things are much more vivid here. Back where I come from, the kinds of colors you ponies have are a defense mechanism—a way for animals to say ‘stay back, I’m poisonous’.” “But we aren’t.” “Well, I know that now,” Anon said. “I half expected Lyra to spit venom at me the first time she came up. For a little bit I weighed the odds whether or not I’d die just by touching you guys.” Twilight snorted. She brought a hand up to her mouth, overcome by a fit of giggles. Anon chuckled along with her. They lapsed into a silence. Anon felt lighter somehow. Maybe things weren’t completely beyond reconciliation with her. “I’m sorry,” Twilight said. In her hand she twirled a lock of her hair—a nervous fidget on her part. “I never said it, did I? Sorry for all this. What I tried to do. Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, the others... they would have left well enough alone if I didn’t put them up for it all. Heat relief.” “I see,” Anon said, his smile fading. “If we’re going that route then I should meet you halfway.” Twilight waited patiently. “Sorry. For the other night. I could have handled that better. I guess from your perspective I just decided to go and be a dick all of a sudden. Shouldn’t have... played with you like that.” Twilight looked away, her eyes downcast. A faint tinge of red blossomed in her cheeks. “Thank you,” she said softly. Anon nodded. A more comfortable silence now, both lost in their thoughts. “Well,” he said. “They say third time’s the charm.” Twilight looked up. “We’ve made mistakes, you and me. That goes without saying, but I think we have a better idea of who and what we’re dealing with here. So.” He extended a hand. “What do you say we start over? Again.” Twilight smiled shyly. “Anonymous.” She extended her smaller hand and clasped it to his. “I’d like that very much.” Author's Note Pre-read by Elric of Melnipony
There's Something About RarityView OnlineHeat SeasonThere's Something About RarityRarity was acting... off. Different. Something had changed, but Anonymous couldn't quite put his finger on it. He didn’t know it when he first appeared in Equestria, that the classy, gracious mare would become something of a fixture in his new life. Sure, Lyra was friendly and accommodating enough, if a bit obsessive. Turns out humans were something of a mythical creature in this world. Who knew? At the very least she mellowed out not long after and once the novelty wore off, she then began to see him more as a friend and less a prized project. Not that it stopped her bombarding him with all kinds of questions at any and all times, or wanting to run some sort of test or project on him. Bon Bon was mostly baffled. The princesses kept in touch with him—which came as a bit of a surprise—mostly in the form of letters, where they... genuinely seemed to want to know how he was doing and adjusting to Equestrian society. Benevolent, immortal, semi-omnipotent demi-goddesses genuinely caring for him? Wanting to know how he was doing? A new experience to be sure but then again, Equestria was chock full of those. The physics really threw him off at first in those early days, especially after seeing the hyperactive Pinkie Pie in action and the seemingly casual way she chose to ignore the fundamental laws of the universe, nearly giving him a heart attack at the way she popped out of the mailbox and eagerly introduced herself, all but demanding to give him a ‘Welcome to Ponyville Party’. And gravity... felt lighter? Ponies were surprisingly light for their size, with him being able to comfortably pick up Lyra with one arm. The world and its strange laws even had an effect on him. Rainbow Dash invited him to watch her practice some new stunt she’d cooked up, hoping to impress the resident alien and bask in his admiration. Anonymous would admit the braggart mare had every right to be smug, pulling off spectacular maneuvers with practiced ease. Somewhere along the way, something went wrong. Maybe a stray gust of wind, or a miscalculated turn, or a wingbeat that came too late. Rainbow had been cagey regarding the details, but it resulted in her veering wildly off-course and crashing headfirst into him at blinding speeds. By rights he should’ve died immediately, his sternum pulverized, and insides turned to mush, yet he and a dazed Rainbow stood up with nothing more than a rattled noggin to show for it. And Twilight... well, she was batshit crazy. At least that had been his first impression. In this seemingly endless expanse of eccentric, awe inspiring, nonsensical—and occasionally scary— ponies, Rarity stood out as a bit of an outlier. Sure, she could be a bit... well, extra from time to time, but by and large, she maintained a casual, grounded demeanor, barely batting an eye at his supposed alieness. She was kind and easy to talk to and overall just pleasant to be around. Anonymous quickly grew fond of her. Hell, she even went to great pains to explain how the not-yet-then princess was in fact, not an unhinged and voracious sexual predator, but rather an enthusiastic and well-meaning student of friendship and magic. Celestia’s protégé, even. Definitely not the Element of Wisdom, if that botched spell of hers was anything to go by. He thought for sure he’d get sacked on the spot (and arrested, to that effect), what with the state Aloe had found him and Twilight in, but he learned later on that the little mare, blushing up a storm and looking for all the world as if she wanted nothing more than for the earth to come alive and swallow her whole, assured the spa ponies the full brunt of fault rested on her alone, and Anonymous did nothing wrong Miraculously enough, his employers accepted the truth as Twilight laid it out and chose not to fire him. And life went on for a while. Sure, some ponies were hesitant to be massaged by him at first. He couldn’t completely blame them. Steadily, more and more of them chose to give him a chance, where they gradually pivoted from being wary to very friendly indeed. The mares especially so. Rarity, Fluttershy and Twilight had been quite vocal during their sessions. He chalked it up to ponies being weird. He came to learn this was not the exception, but the rule. Yet as the days passed and his proficiency at the craft grew, his clients’ exclamations of contentment and happiness gave way to something... lewder. It didn’t take too long for his client list to be filled up with starry-eyed mares, eager for him to get his hands on them and work their magic. That would be fine, if it weren’t for their increasingly inappropriate hints and requests. Hints and requests as to where he could put those hands and fingers of his to better use. Not being a horse fondler or wanting to keep dealing with increasingly aggressive and pushy mares, Anonymous quit his job altogether. Aloe and Lotus had been sad to see him go, but understood well enough. Now out of a job and back at square one, he pondered his options on what to do next. Cutie marks were an unofficial but important factor on one’s job prospects. With no mark to his name, Anonymous decided to brush up on other accessible skills and it was in this process he began to realize some weird force was at play. For one, he picked things up incredibly quickly. The kitchen sink in the house he shared with Lyra and Bon Bon had been acting up lately, but the two ponies had no idea how to fix it. They considered putting out a flyer in the communal board, hoping to catch the eye of anypony who had a passable knowledge of plumbing, with nothing to show for it. Seeing a potential opportunity, Anonymous took it upon himself to fix it. Granted, he had no idea how, but he managed to scrounge up a wrench, some pliers and other assorted tools and spent the better part of the afternoon on his knees under the sink, emerging triumphant some time later. The water never flowed better. He had a suspicion and nothing more, but decided to test it out, keeping an eye out on the house and any prospective opportunities for a fix-up. Of these he found plenty. The house, as with most others in Ponyville, were generational hand-me-downs (hoof-me-downs? Eh…) built decades ago during the initial founding, and though well-cared for, began to show their age. The wooden beams that comprised the wattle-and-daub fashion of their house showed signs of wear and termites. Anonymous took them down and replaced them with fresh new beams. Plenty of floorboards squeaked or groaned or whined. These too got shiny new replacements, as did a wobbly table leg, bathroom tiles, roof supports and more. All this he accomplished with no prior knowledge or experience, going instead by trial and error and whatever ‘felt right’. It was at this point that he brought up the issue with Lyra, who squeed at the opportunity, eager to learn more about him and solidify her position as the world's foremost expert on humanity (well, besides him at least). Thus they spent the next week running all kinds of tests and trials and came to a tentative conclusion. *** “Can you guess what it is?” A grinning Lyra asked. “No, but I think I'm about to find out.” Unperturbed by his less than enthusiastic response, the still grinning minty green mare said, “You have no special talent whatsoever!” Anonymous rolled his eyes. “Rub it in my face, why don't ya?” Lyra shook her head. “You know that's not what I meant. Honestly, have you been paying attention?” …Kind of? He tried, but Lyra had been growing more and more excited in her explanation, and the more excited she got, the more technical, magicky terminology she employed. “Why don't you try and dumb it down for me?” “It all comes back to Cutie Marks,” Lyra elaborated. She regarded Anonymous shrewdly. “What do you know about them?” He shrugged. “They appear when a colt or filly discovers their special talent.” “Yes, but,” she tapped a hoof to her chin. “Well, the thing is we don't really know that much about Cutie Marks. They are ruled by a higher, even more mysterious power than the princesses. They are your destiny made manifest, and no force on Equus or Tartarus can change what your talent is. There are those who theorize one could potentially alter the point in time at which a colt or filly could receive their mark, but… well, that would be an incredibly irresponsible and unethical experiment. Point being, ponies have a singular, special talent—one that will become fully realized upon the appearance of the Cutie Mark. And in that special talent they will find their niche, a skill in which they will achieve an uncommon level of proficiency, matched only by those of similar Cutie Marks or—even more rarely—somepony of uncommon skill.” “...Okay?” “Put it like this.” She half turned so that her own Cutie Mark was visible upon her flank. “I can play a mean lyre. Bon Bon makes awesome candies. Mr. And Mrs. Cake, er, make cakes! Vinyl and Octavia specialize in different music genres. Applejack is all about apples and Derpy… huh, you know, I'm not sure what her talent is. Some marks are clearer than others, I guess.” Point being, all colts and fillies are destined for a special talent of their own. We don’t know if this happens before or after the birthing process, or even before conception, but it is there. All ponies on this world are born with it.” “But I'm not of this world.” “Yep.” “Which means I have no preordained destiny or special talent.” “Yep-yep.” “Which… means… since I have neither of them,” His face scrunched up in concentration. “And since whatever power that rules over them never assigned me one to start with…” Jesus what-is-the-H-for Christ, he felt dumb. “It means that, paradoxically… I have no special talent and any possible talent at the same time?” *** It was a working theory, one that would need much more testing before reaching a solid conclusion. Not that Anonymous was especially keen to find out. Just about any self-respecting academic would cream their pants at the opportunity of studying such a phenomenon, but the whole process seemed a lot more trouble than it was worth. And he still had a life to live. He contented himself with using this new knowledge to become a sort of handyman. It was good, honest work if a bit rote. And of course, incidents would spring up now and then. Incidents that caused him to look at ponies in a new light. It started innocently enough. He’d go to a house and work on this or that—whatever the pony in question needed help with. It earned him a steady supply of bits and helped the rest of the ponies get used to his presence, and overall he became a well-known fixture around town. Then the propositions came. *** “Done!” he huffed and stood to his full height, nearly touching the ceiling of Flitter and Cloud Chaser’s bedroom. He’d been hired by Chaser to make repairs on the unusually large bed she shared with her sister. The thing didn’t even look that old or in bad condition, yet the sisters had somehow caused an incredible amount of wear and tear on it. All four legs needed complete replacement, the headboard had been nearly torn off its hinges and several support beams shattered under whatever unholy punishment the sisters subjected the poor bedframe to. Cloud Chaser, who’d been more or less hovering over him, watching his hands in fascination as they worked, fluttered onto the mattress and gave two small, experimental hops. “Wow, it feels great. Really solid, too. Awesome work, Anon!” she said with a toothy smile. “I was worried we’d have to replace the whole thing before tomorrow, but you really came through.” “Happy to help,” he said, stretching. He meant it, too, watching as the adorable little pegasus gave a few more experimental hops before casually splaying out onto the bed. “By the way,” Cloud Chaser said. “I don’t want to be one of ‘those’ ponies, but what guarantees do you give?” “Guarantees?” “Yeah, you know,” she waved a vague hoof. “Do you give guarantees I’ll be satisfied with my service?” “...No. I mean, I’d like to think I did solid work. You saw it yourself.” “Yeah. Uh-huh. But I mean...” her face scrunched up. “You see, Flitter and I... we kinda go through beds. Like, a lot. Used to be we didn’t have a handypony to come fix things up, so we usually just chucked the old one in the trash and replaced it with a new one.” “Yeah, about that...” he said. “You really should go easy on your beds. Try not to jump on them so much.” Cloud Chase cocked her head. “Jump on them?” “Jump on them. Roughhouse. Whatever it is you do that gets them all trashed.” “We rut stallions.” “Yeah, that’s what I... wait, what?” “Well, mostly a stallion. Thunderlane.” She giggled. “He can get a bit rough. Or... well, very rough. It’s a kink with him, I guess? Not that you’ll see Flitter and me complain.” She giggled again. Anonymous nearly choked. “Fli...” he coughed. “You and Flitter?” “Yep.” “Like... all three? At the same time?” “Uh-huh.” He adjusted the collar of his shirt. “That’s, uh, kinky.” She giggled again. “Stallions like that, don’t’cha know. Comes especially handy when Heat Season rolls around.” With a flap of her wings she took to the air and closed the distance between them. “That’s why I’d like a guarantee. Thunder’s coming over tomorrow. He’s staying for the weekend, so that’s why I wanna make sure the bed can take it.” Wishing to be anywhere else but in that room, but not wanting to lose a prospective customer, Anonymous said, “What did you have in mind?” He’d humor the little pegasus and get the hell out of there. Cloud Chaser pondered on this for a moment, looking from Anon to the bed and back. Her face brightened up and she then said, “Oh, I know! Let’s take it for a spin.” “And by spin, you mean—” “Let’s rut.” “Ah.” Cloud Chaser grinned. “Come on, it’ll be fun! And... uh, I didn’t want to say anything, but it looks like you could really use it.” She gestured to his body, waving her hoof up and down. “I mean, I don’t know if it’s normal for you humies, but you’ve been looking really wound up.” Anonymous gawped. “Hey, it happens to me too, especially when it’s been a long week at work. Or when I’ve gone a good while without a stallion. Or when I tell Flitter to take out the trash and she just hides it somewhere else.” Anonymous pinched the bridge of his nose and, biting back a groan, said, “Cloud Chaser, you barely even know me.” She shrugged. “I mean, I know you’re pretty dependable.” Anonymous opted for a different tactic. “What about Thunderlane?” “What about him?” Oh, for the love of... “Aren’t you involved with him?” “I guess?” she said, cocking her head, frowning slightly. “Won’t he be upset if the two of us...” “Why would he?” Alright, she has to be trolling him! Cloud Chaser’s eyes widened and a look of realization dawned on her. “Ohh, you think we’re in a herd!” “Aren’t you?” Cloud Chaser threw her head back and laughed. “No, no! Goodness, no. He’s a friend. Well, a very good friend, but you get my meaning.” Her peals of laughter subsided to chortles. “I mean, can you imagine, being in a herd with my own sister?” she said with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “Oof, wouldn’t that be weird.” “...Yeah. That’s the weird part.” *** It wasn’t the first or last time a mare would casually offer him sex. Roseluck, June Bug, Pinkie Pie, Sea Swirl, Octavia, Pinkie Pie, Honey Sweet, Flitter, and Pinkie Pie had all at some point propositioned him whenever he took a job at their residences. Not to say they were pushy or creepy about it, as they would more or less shrug and drop the subject when he inevitably declined. Ponies, it seemed, had a relaxed, almost casual view of sex. Not being a horse fucker, and growing increasingly unnerved (and maybe just the slightest bit tempted) whenever the Ponyvillian mares offered themselves, Anonymous quit his stint as handyman and went back to the drawing board. He needed a job of some sort. Something he was uniquely suited to doing. His brief time at the spa, and several test sessions with Lyra taught him two things. He could not perform feats ‘beyond the capacity for human potential’, as Lyra so aptly put it. He could never fly, manipulate the weather, or cast magic. An earth pony’s passive magic that afforded them a unique affinity for growing crops and tending the earth would always surpass his own mundane talents. He did have hands, though. And fingers. A pony’s hoof lacked the finer, delicate muscles that promoted finer, more precise controls. They worked around this with magic or weird claw-like contraption they hooked round their necks and deemed it ‘good enough’. It was only a simple matter then, to use his hands in a manner most ponies could not hope to replicate. It’s how he gained an unnatural proficiency for massages, after all. Hands and fingers were so much further beyond a comparatively clumsy hoof that even a neophyte like him could outshine Aloe and Lotus in this one singular aspect of all things spa. And who would come to his aid again but Rarity. Beautiful, wonderful Rarity. Yep, he owed the gracious mare quite a bit. From fashioning his clothes (far sturdier and much more comfortable than his Earth wardrobe) to rescuing him from Twilight’s spastic fit at the library. Seriously, what was even up with the little princess? He hoped the two of them could move past the lingering awkwardness of their first meeting, though his admittedly off-the-cuff cock remark seemed to snap something inside her, prompting the purple mare to go on an extensive and red-faced rant regarding stallionhoods, phallic shapes and outlines and the effects they had on dirty minded mares and... color-coded charts, for some reason. What a weirdo. “Anonymous?” “Huh? What?” he said, starting out of his reverie. Rarity looked over her withers at him. “Do you mind if we make a brief detour? I promise it’ll be quick.” “Nope, it’s fine.” She smiled and adjusted her course, heading for Ponyville’s market. Anonymous followed in her wake and did his utmost to prevent his eyes from straying downwards. He then breathed easier as Rarity fell in step beside him. “Thank you for indulging me, darling,” Rarity said. “I just need to pick up a few things. Sweetie Belle’s staying over at the boutique, you see.” “Again?” Rarity hummed. “Mother and father are going off on another of their vacations. Ohayo, this time around.” “That’s... what, the third one they’ve gone to this year?” “Fourth, actually. They had a week-long stint in Baltimare back when you went to that trip to Trottingham.” She tutted. “Another notch in their bucket list, no doubt. They’ve crossed off a great many of them ever since they retired. Still, they’ve worked hard enough for our sakes so one can’t begrudge them wanting to enjoy themselves. And it does give Sweetie Belle and me time to bond.” “Could be worse. At least your sister looks up to you.” Rarity beamed. “There is that. One could do a lot worse for a little sister, though I do wish she tried to stay out of trouble.” Together, the two of them made their way across the bustling market, Rarity making a beeline for Carrot Top’s stall. “A dozen of your finest carrots, please,” Rarity said, levitating the appropriate number of bits to the counter. Carrot Top nodded and dutifully began to pick out a number of specimens. “Whole dozen, eh? Sweetie Belle and her friends having another sleepover tonight?” “Right you are, darling. It's carrot dogs all around. Personally, I don’t see why they can’t have a nice salad, or some lovely little petit fours but, well you know how foals are.” “Ha! Tell me about it. My little nephew's on his picky phase. Won’t eat anything that’s not swimming in glaze or battered and deep fried in boiling oil.” Rarity did as Rarity does, Anonymous noted, and became progressively engaged in conversation with Carrot Top. Something about a dress or outfit the earth mare was contemplating for some future event. Boring stuff. Not that he found himself complaining. Rarity’s pillowy white flanks swayed ever-so-slightly side to side as the conversation progressed. He found his traitorous eyes running over her gentle curves—at the way the muscles of her flanks lightly rippled when she shifted her weight. They looked soft and he idly wondered how they’d feel in his hands. “Goodness, where are my manners? Sorry to have kept you,” Rarity said, trotting up to him, a paper bag bursting with carrots held in her aura. “N-no, no,” Anonymous croaked, wiping the sweat that beaded on his brow. When did it get so hot? “Don’t worry about it. It’s... uh...” He zeroed in on the carrots and almost on reflex said, “Here, let me carry that for you.” Rarity smiled. “Ah, such a gentlecolt.” And levitated the bag into his waiting hand. “I’ll have to make a few more stops. And don’t worry, darling, I shan’t tarry any longer. I’m sure you have your own business to get back to.” With another gracious smile, Rarity returned to the main thoroughfare of the market. She kept a brisk pace, slightly ahead of him, and Anonymous felt the day grow hotter still as his eyes gravitated downwards. It’s not like he hadn’t looked before. He was a red-blooded male, damn it. And with so many cute mares running around in the nude, it was inevitable he’d find his eyes drifting now and then. Not that those mares he’d ogled were putting on a show. They were only doing, well, pony things. Going about their day. Not trying to tempt him in any way. Usually. Rarity, though... Something changed. He didn’t know how or why, but he’d swear there was something deliberate in her actions—in the way those amazing flanks of hers swayed in a manner most hypnotizing. Or way her tail had an extra swish to it, almost-but-not-quite offering a glimpse of what lay beneath those royal blue strands. He’d known the mare long enough to know she was no fool. She was a lady, always mindful and aware of the way she carried herself—honing this practice to the point she cultivated a certain air about her. A years-long effort that earned her an effortless, all-natural sort of grace. He didn’t need to be a genius to see then, she was not the sort of mare to casually or unintentionally draw attention to her body. She knew what she was doing. She had to. Fortunately, she found herself engrossed in their little outing and gave no indication she caught him drinking up her rear, cheerfully nodding at familiar faces as they passed by, or chatting up the vendors as she made her purchases. Which he obviously carried for her. "Come, come, Anonymous. Make yourself at home,” Rarity said graciously as she held open the door to her home. Arms bulging with various bags, Anonymous maneuvered himself inside Carousel Boutique and cast an appraising glance. “You redecorated." Rarity beamed. “Ah, you noticed. Yes darling, I’ve fretted more than a little trying to decide on a proper look, but I said to myself, ‘You know what this needs, Rarity? A cosmopolitan touch!’ ‘Ooh, how right you are, Rarity’.” She brought a hoof up to her mouth and tittered. “Yes, well. In any case, it was high time my home got a bit of a spruce up. What do you think? Isn’t it just lovely?” she said and with a proud swish of her mane, batted her eyelashes. Anonymous suppressed a weary smile. “As lovely as the mare who picked it.” Rarity tittered again. “Oh, very good. You’re getting better, I see.” She levitated the numerous bags from his arms. “You know, darling, it's been a time and a half since we've had a chance to catch up, just the two of us. Won't you stay for a bit? Unless you have pressing business elsewhere.” He waved a hand. "Sure, it's nothing I can't push back." Rarity nodded. "Excellent, then. Make yourself at home. I'll be right back.” Anonymous let out a relieved breath as Rarity walked into the kitchen. She'd no doubt disapprove of it, but he pinched the collar of his shirt and rapidly fanned himself with it. Just a friend. She's just a friend, he reminded himself and sat atop Rarity's new (and expensive looking) couch. She returned not moments after, levitating two tall glasses, iced to the brim and filled with a dark liquid. “Here we are. Long Island iced tea. A small taste of home for you. I do hope I got the recipe right.” Anonymous took the cold glass and sipped at the drink, his eyebrows shooting up. “Not bad. Not bad at all,” he said and took a more generous sip. The ice cold drink felt amazing after the rather warm day. “Quite,” Rarity said as she took a seat beside him, letting out a small, contented sigh as she sipped the glass. Honestly, she found the concept of cold tea to be off-putting at first, but one sip and she was immediately hooked. And adding alcohol? It was love at first taste. “I must admit, I probably drink more of this than I should, but–” “But it's so good.” “Addicting, you mean. All that sugar. It goes straight to my flanks,” she said casually and closed her eyes as she took another luxurious sip of the drink. She didn't need to look at Anonymous to know his face went red, even as he mumbled something unintelligible and masked it with a sip of his own. It's not like she didn't feel his eyes roam all over her assets during their little trip to the marketplace. Poor thing must be in desperate need of relief, she mused to herself. Not that she helped matters any, what with the way she intentionally drew attention to herself, but Rarity wouldn't deny it wasn't the slightest bit fun. There was something satisfying in teasing a well-intentioned stallion, even as he fought the urge to glance at her body--a joyous sort of cruelty. She might have even felt bad about it, had she not every intention to give him a very memorable time... and herself some much needed release. All in good time, of course. One must not rush these things after all. "So tell me, how is Lyra doing?" "Oh, you know. Takes it one day at a time. She's been driving Bon Bon up the wall." "Oh?" "You know how she used to have a... reputation before I came here?" Rarity arched an eyebrow. "Used to?" She held his gaze for a moment before the two of them indulged in a good laugh. "Alright, fair enough," he conceded. "But she can't have been that bad, right?" "Don't get me wrong, I like Lyra well enough but she was always a bit of an odd duck. The 'kooky nutcase with the monkey fetish', as Rainbow Dash so eloquently it once. Not so much anymore." "Ape, actually." "Pardon?" "We're descended from apes, not monkeys." "Oh... what's the difference?" He shrugged. "It's the tails, I think." He drained the rest of his drink and said, "Anyway, it turns out there's this whole subculture of ponies throughout Equestria. Weird, nutty types who believed humans were real. This is long before I came here. "They're very much a niche bunch, so as you can imagine, it's not exactly easy for them to find likeminded ponies. From what Lyra says, they been trying to form an official group of sorts, but there's not that many of them and they're scattered all around Equestria. That's how Lyra's whole obsession began. They put out these ads in the newspaper hoping to lure in ponies who might be interested in what they had to say. She got curious and, er, went down the rabbit hole, so to speak." "She must have had a field day, I imagine. After you came here, I mean." Anonymous laughed. "You don't know the half of it. She kept us up the whole night writing letters to all of them. Well, she tried to, when she wasn't bouncing off the walls. They're having their first ever meet up at some convention center down in Las Pegasus sometime soon." "And let me guess, she wants you to be star of the show?" "Basically. She's organizing the whole thing. Maybe getting the slightest bit carried away." "Will you be attending?" "Sure, why not. It's still a trip to Las Pegasus. Party central, right? We have a similar city back where I'm from that's... well, it's really something else. I'm kinda curious to see yours. See how wild you ponies can get." "Oh, I assure you, darling," Rarity said, smiling coyly. She locked eyes with him and, lacing her words with just the right amount of huskyness, said, "We can get very wild indeed." Rarity suppressed a triumphant smirk as Anonymous flushed and looked away. She watched as--mechanically, almost on reflex--he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. His spicy, exotic, masculine musk; so different from a stallion yet not at all displeasing to her senses--steadily growing bolder, more prominent during their walk to the boutique--became considerably more potent. But she then bit her lip and winced, unable to hold back a small groan of discomfort. "You okay?" "Y-yes, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about, just... my neck's a bit stiff, is all." Anonymous frowned. "Did you fall asleep at the sewing table again?" Rarity coyly tossed her mane. "The creative process demands a certain price, darling. One a successful artiste must be willing to pay, however inconvenient." "Do you..." Anonymous' hand reached out, stopping at the halfway point between the two of them. "Do you mind if I take a look." Rarity did not feign a measure of surprise. "O-oh, I... are you sure?" "I mean, I feel kinda bad. Knowing you, you probably fell asleep while working on my order. Right?" At this, Rarity looked the slightest bit abashed. "I didn't... well, it wasn't just your order, but..." "Then I insist." Rarity was taken aback by the firm tone, but recovered quickly enough. "Oh, my. How bold." She said it with a smile and relaxed her body, presenting her back to give him access. His hand settled on the back of her neck, just beside her mane. "Ah, a bit lower." She felt his fingers prod at her coat as they trailed downward, testing, until they settled on a spot just above her withers. "Here?" She nodded. "Would you like me to--" "Please do." Rarity sighed as he applied pressure with those wonderful fingers of his, kneading with just the right amount of force. "I missed this, you know. My spa trips haven't been quite the same since you left." "Sorry to disappoint." "No need for apologies, dear. You did what's best for you and nopony can fault you for that." "True," he muttered and for the next moments he worked in silence. Rarity cooed as his hand worked its magic. Sweet Celestia, she missed his touch. He really did spoil her with those wonderful hands of his. Capable as the spa ponies were, their hooves simply paled in comparison. "I must admit," she said, biting back a moan. "I'm surprised you even offered to. I thought after your experiences at the spa..." "Yeah, well. Life goes on. Things... things can change." A flick of her ear. "Oh?" Either he didn't hear her or chose not to respond. Rarity felt a pang of disappointment as he removed his hand. "I can't..." Anonymous said. There was a thickness to his voice, as though he were struggling to keep it steady. "I can't get a very good reach like this. Why don't you move closer?" Rarity half turned. His chest rose and fell as he took deep breaths. An unmistakable expression of barely restrained need threatened to break on his flushed face. It sent a thrill shooting through her. Rarity could not hold back a small, triumphant smile. Wordlessly, she rose to all four hooves and backed toward him. He was a bit too big for the couch and with that build of his, could not comfortably position himself. His left knee rested upon the middle of the cushion as he adjusted his position and Rarity set herself down, setting the curve of her flanks in contact with his knee. Anonymous gulped as the warm, pillowy sensation pressed against him. He shook his head and reached for her neck. "Just a moment," Rarity said, unable to keep a breathy lilt from her voice. She reached out with her magic and from somewhere across the room approached a ribbon, enveloped by her aura. With practiced efficiency, she weaved her magic into her mane, deftly fashioning it into a bun and used the ribbon to hold it in place. "There we are. Whenever you're ready." He had to lean forward to reach her neck. The position itself wasn't the most comfortable, though it did mean the action caused his knee to press further into Rarity's flanks. If she had any objections to this, she did not voice them. In fact, Rarity lost herself in a little world of her own. Her prolonged dry spell, combined with the knowledge of what was to come, and that wonderful, enticing scent of his sent her arousal into overdrive. And it would come, of that she was sure. The signs Anonymous had been putting out so far were nothing short of promising. His hands went to work, soothing her tightened muscles. Once he finished on her neck, he trailed downward, much to her delight. Despite not practicing the craft for some time now, he'd lost little of his touch and she all but melted into it. There was a marked difference, though. A barely restrained hunger in the way his hands worked; not merely massaging, but exploring her body. Thank Celestia she had the presence of mind to tuck her tail between her legs. Her lovely new couch would be ruined otherwise. For some time a silence hung over the boutique, punctuated by moans or sighs of contentment from Rarity. Their breathing, hers and Anonymous, grew heavier the further his hands traveled down her body. She began to get lightheaded. "Oh!" Rarity glanced back to see him gripping her flanks, kneading the supple flesh. She brought a hoof up to her mouth and tittered. "Anonymous! How bold," she said playfully. He flinched as if snapping out of a trance and blinked repeatedly, eyes widening as they settled on his hands and how they almost sank into her soft flanks. Rarity watched in amusement as he stuttered this or that. HIs hands twitched, but remained where they were, as if unable to bring himself to remove them. Deciding to spare him any further indecision or embarrassment, she relaxed again and looked away. Growing bolder herself, she untucked her hind legs which had been resting snugly at her sides and luxuriously stretched them over Anonymous' lap. "And do be sure you get my legs, darling. They've been feeling a tad tense lately." She didn't bother to glance back and confirm with him and instead closed her eyes and rested her chin atop her crossed forelimbs. All the better to relax and allow Anonymous to get comfortable with the situation. Not that he needed much prompting. Hesitantly, he squeezed her flanks. He looked up to gauge any reaction on her part, but other than the rising and contracting of her barrel, gave no response. He squeezed again, lightly this time, and marveled at the softness of her rear. Her coat care routine was top notch, as could be expected, feeling almost like satin beneath his fingers. Despite her appearance, Rarity was no stranger to hard work, routinely making trips to Ghastly Gorge where she hauled back cartloads of gems through large stretches of unpaved wild terrain. Her labors at the boutique could be no less demanding. He'd seen firsthand how heavy a bolt of cloth really was, and a large part of her equipment and materials were heavy and built to last. Perhaps she could have employed the use of lighter equipment but ever the perfectionist, Rarity demanded the best for her tools--which usually meant solid, heavy-duty materials. All this and more granted her a deceptively hardy build. Soft but firm, he mused, running his thumb across the diamonds of her Cutie Mark, pressing the soft, yielding surface before meeting more solid muscle beneath. He could do this for hours, but didn't want to press his luck. Or worse, bore her. With some reluctance, his hands moved to her... thighs? Was this the correct term for Equine anatomy? He didn't know. Or particularly care, for that matter. He did his best to recall his training at the spa and worked her legs as best he could. Thinking of it like work helped to clear his mind, somewhat. And judging by the soft coos of contentment from Rarity, she appreciated his efforts. It was then he began to notice a certain... fragrance. To call it a mere smell would be a disservice. He couldn't be sure whether Rarity intended it or even realized it, but her tail caught his eye--the dock making random, jerky motions, as if struggling to escape the compressed space between her and the sofa and thus break free. He noticed then, during the times when her tail would try to lift itself from side to side that the fragrance grew in potency. After nearly two years in Equestria, and his unwitting firsthand experience with Twilight, he was wiser now to what this meant. He tested the waters by moving to the inside of her thighs, using long, languid strokes--more a caress than anything--to move up and closer to her marehood. Rarity's breaths grew heavier. Her legs parted slightly. Deciding he'd never be able to live with himself if he backed out now, Anonymous poked a finger past the blue strands of her tail to where he was fairly sure her marehood was located. The sheer heat surprised him. Carefully, he probed deeper. Rarity moaned, squirming atop him but made no protest. Her tail still obstructed his view but he added a second finger regardless, tracing the warm, wet folds. Truth be told, he had no idea what he was doing. Sure he had a notch or two under his belt back on Earth, but he now realized he hadn't the faintest clue how a pony worked down there. How similar was it to a woman's? As if sensing this, Rarity's horn lit up and lightly tugged at his fingers, adjusting their position. Mindful not to scrape her with his fingernails, Anonymous gave an experimental push. Her marehood all but welcomed him, greedily drawing him in. Her walls clamped tight around his fingers. "So tight," he mumbled. He turned his hand palm up for a better position and pushed deeper. Rarity purred at the action. Her body, trembling. She likes it, he realized. She actually, genuinely likes this. He nearly laughed, coming to this conclusion only after he was two fingers deep in her. He pumped them, in and out. Then again. Then he kept going until his hand dripped with her fluids and every motion caused wet, schlicking sounds as he went in and out of her. By this point his whole upper leg was damp. Her fragrance hung heavy over the room, growing muskier but no less pleasing. Through it all, Rarity stubbornly held on to some pretense of dignity, doing her best to hold back the litany of gasps, squeals and moans of delight that clamored to break from her--all with limited success. Seeing the prim and proper mare in this state triggered something in Anonymous. Every last lingering remnant of the caveman ancestry hard-coded into his DNA screamed and hooted raucously, bellowing across the eons for him to give in to his baser instincts; sending a message that inscribed itself in every fiber of his being. FUCK THE PONY. His fingers grazed a certain part inside her marehood. Rarity's body seized. She let loose a piercing squeal of surprise and and as if in reflex, her body jumped away from Anonymous and crashed down on the floor. "Shit," he muttered and scrambled to his feet. His pants felt agonizingly tight. "Are you hurt?" Rarity raised a hoof and frantically waved him away. "N-no, no. I'm alright. It's just... goodness me," she gasped, her chest heaving. "Just... give me a moment." Through this all, Rarity still lay atop the floor, facing away from him and giving Anonymous no indication of what she might be thinking; then slowly, shakily, got to her hooves and turned to face him. ""Sorry,"" the two said simultaneously. ... ""For what?"" ... A smile tugged at Rarity's lips. She chuckled and he followed suit, dispelling some of the awkwardness. "Are you sure I didn't hurt you?" "Positive," Rarity said, her flushed from the neck up. She looked away, looking almost... shy. "It, ahh," she gulped. "It felt incredible, rather. It's not... uh, I've never felt anything quite like it, to be honest." "R-right." Rarity chanced a look at him. He absentmindedly scratched the side of his face, using the same hand still coated in... her. It left a trail on his skin, not that he seemed to notice. She bit her lip and suppressed a sudden urge to laugh. "Oh," she tutted. "Well isn't that upsetting." Anonymous followed her gaze down. A dark spot stretched over a large part of his leg, courtesy of Rarity. "My apologies, darling. I didn't mean to get quite so," she cleared her throat. "Excited." She turned to go to the kitchen. "Come on, then. We really should get those pants clean before any, eh, lasting effects take place." Even as she stepped into her modest kitchen, her magic was already at work. From a drawer came a handful of bottles of cleaning solution, from another a basin which she filled halfway with water from the sink. She glanced back to see Anonymous standing at the threshold of the kitchen. "Come, darling." She used her magic to pull out a chair from the kitchen table, leaving it as an open invitation. "Sit, please." Once he did, she scooped a measured portion of the cleaning agents into the basin, using magic to swirl the water and get it all nice and mixed. Satisfied, she approached the table, trailing the basin behind her as well as a clean towel and set them both atop its surface. Moments stretched as neither of them broke the silence. Rarity took the time to dip the towel into the lightly frothing mixture and dabbed at Anonymous' leg, wryly noting how large the patch was. All that and she never even finished. Her marehood ached, demanding for release, setting her cheeks aflame with a healthy, needy blush. It's now or never. "I'd like to be perfectly honest with you, Anonymous. We are both adults, after all. And I do apologize for the deception and... and I don't normally go about these things in so blunt a manner but, I may have had an... ulterior motive for inviting you back here." She rubbed the towel in small circles, going from the outside in. "Don't get me wrong, I consider you a good friend. I hope I've proven that over time. And it's not like the thought has never crossed my mind, but you've always been so... put off by the idea of a pony--of being intimate, I mean--which is why I've never breached the subject. Didn't want to 'rock the boat', as it were. But I also get the sense that might be different now. That maybe... maybe you've grown more used to the idea. Broaden your horizons and all that. Hah, not that I haven't been with any male who wasn't a stallion myself, but..." she shook her head. "Well, I suppose what I'm trying to say is--" Rarity gasped and backed away as Anonymous lunged forward, off the chair and on his knees before her. He cupped her face in his hands and Rarity barely got a word out before he leaned in and mashed his lips to hers. Rarity moaned, her eyes fluttered. The glow of her horn ceded and the towel fell limp to the floor. She inhaled his intoxicating scent, feeling lightheaded. One of Anonymous' hands snaked to the back of her neck, just under her bun and gripped her firmly. Possessively. It drove her wild. She pushed back against him, rearing on her legs and pressed her hooves to his shoulders. His tongue breached her mouth and she met it with her own. She shivered, tasting him for the first time. Neither could say how long they did this; how long their tongues fenced against the other--taking in the other's taste, scent--but when they separated it was for need of air. Rarity's chest heaved. Her eyes half-lidded, her cheeks ablaze; mouth half-open as she breathed out little puffs of hot air. "Am I--" She gulped. "Am I to take this as a yes?" Anonymous chuckled. "Well what do you think?" He ran the back of his fingers against her cheek and Rarity fought down the urge to close her eyes and lean into it. "A lady never presumes, Anonymous. It's unbecoming." "No. No she wouldn't." He looked somewhat abashed. "Uhh, sorry. For kissing you, I mean. Should have... probably asked for permission before--" "There's something to be said for an assertive stallion. It can be..." she giggled. "Exhilarating. And trust me, darling, I'm not completely helpless. We wouldn't be here now if I didn't want it." She looked down to his pants where a sizable bulge strained against the fabric, then back again to him. "Question is, do you?" Anonymous opened his mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. He swallowed and instead gave a single feverish nod. Rarity smiled impishly. She lunged forward for another kiss, pushing him back with surprising force. Anonymous eased himself back, pinned between the floor and a very hungry mare. His hands roamed over her soft, velvety body; going down her neck, past her barrel and to those amazing flanks of hers, eagerly squeezing them. She pulled her tongue out of his mouth, breaking the kiss with an audible pop. “Ah, ah, ah” she tutted playfully, using her magic to pull his fingers away from the course they’d been making toward her marehood. “It’s my turn this time.” Her magical aura receded from his fingers and instead settled on the belt of his pants; unfastening it, then the button, next the zipper and she swiftly tugged the garment down, leaving his modesty hidden beneath a pair of boxer shorts. “Honestly, darling, I’m not sure how you do it,” she said. “Don't get me wrong, I simply adore clothes, but I can’t imagine layering up every day for the rest of my life.” He chuckled. “It helps that we don’t have fur.” She followed suit. “Yes, I imagine.” She then watched with a coy smile as she directed her magic elsewhere and Anonymous went rigid under her. Anonymous barely registered the words. His body tensed, hands clenched to fists, and he jerked his head upwards. The telltale glow of Rarity’s magic enveloped his cock, visible even below the fabric of his underwear, simultaneously familiar and very different than what he was used to. Her grip was delicate, warm, and sent a most curious tingle shooting down his shaft. He groaned as Rarity’s expert touch milked him, sending jolts of near agonizing pleasure coursing through it. So overwhelming was the sensation he didn’t even register Rarity take a hooffull of steps backwards and laid down on her belly, right between his spread legs. Even as she pleasured him, she leaned in, eyes closed, nostrils flared and touched her nose to his shaft, deeply inhaling his scent--unfamiliar, exotic, but undeniably masculine. She sighed but reluctantly backed off, lest she lose control of herself and pounce on him and rut him senseless. Not that Anonymous himself could hold on much longer. He held on as best he could, but after going so long without a touch save his, combined with Rarity’s expert technique, meant his own climax approached with frightening speed. She must have sensed it, for she cut the connection before he finished. Anonymous gasped, taking in greedy lungfuls of air, heart hammering beneath his ribcage. “I might apologize for asking so bold a question,” Rarity said. “But I think we’re well past that point.” Anonymous propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look. “You’ve been living in Equestria for two years now,” Rarity continued. “Am I the first pony you’ve gone this far with?” In spite of his flushed face, Anonymous did not feel the slightest bit embarrassed. He nodded. “Yeah, pretty much.” Rarity’s smiled warmly. “Well then, as the Element of Generosity, it’s only fitting I make your first time one to remember.” He watched with bated breath as Rarity shuffled closer. Her hooves reached out, going past the tent in his underwear and (somehow) grabbed on to his waistband. Slowly, agonizingly, Rarity pulled them downward, not daring to breathe herself; unable to hide a glint of excitement in her eyes. When it finally popped free, it bopped her on the muzzle, leaving a wet patch smack dab in the middle of her nose. Rarity regarded the spot cross-eyed. She reached out with her tongue to sample it, shuddering. She cleared her throat, took a deep breath and said, “Yes, well. I do apologize for what you’re about to see.” Anonymous' words died in his throat as Rarity leaned down and swallowed him. "Fuuuck," he groaned. Rarity might have said the same, she might not. Her eyes were shut tight even as half his cock was lodged down her throat. And what a throat it was--hot, almost unbearably so, and so wonderfully tight. Anonymous had to muster every ounce of willpower to not finish then and there. Rarity moaned. Her half-lidded eyes were hazy. She ran her tongue throughout his surface. For some time now she'd wondered what he tasted like. How different would it be from a stallion's? Would he taste as good as he smelled? Yes. Yes he did, and she wanted more. Slowly, Rarity bobbed upward, nostrils flaring and sending little puffs of hot air against him. She stopped just short of his tip, maintaining her lips around it; lightly sucking on it; her tongue tracing slow, deliberate patterns upon its surface. She pushed onward, a bit further than before, taking more of his meat down her throat and eager to taste him further. Anonymous' restraint broke. He placed his hands upon her head and locked her in place, pushed her downward and thrust his hips, burying himself deeper within her, pulling her back and repeating the process. His actions were not hurried or desperate, but forceful, pulling her head back from his meat before meeting the downward return by slamming his hips, burying himself anew. Rarity whimpered pitifully, almost choking; tears stung at her eyes, but the mare did not resist his actions. She lapped up every inch of his cock, desperate to have more of him, sucking and clamping her throat around it. By Rarity's own standards, the given blowjob was not great. It might have charitably been called decent. Not that Anonymous seemed to mind. After so long without any real action, even the sloppy blowjob (admittedly by his fault) felt downright godly. It didn't take long then, for his own climax to barrel past the point of no return. With one final thrust of his hips he pushed the eager mare down until she took every last inch of him. A primal, guttural roar escaped him as he reached his peak and he exploded within her. His vision momentarily went black. Two years' worth of pent up frustration were released at once as torrents of his seed poured down Rarity's throat, nearly choking the unwitting mare. His seed was thick. There was so much of it; but Rarity swallowed to the best of her ability. His body, so tense and rigid beneath her--could almost pass for stone--slowly relaxed until all at once, his grip slackened and she was free. Not that Rarity moved from her spot. She pulled back gradually as she swallowed more and more of his seed. It was a herculean effort, but when she popped his slackening stallionhood from her mouth, she swallowed the last trace of him that remained and gasped, opening her reddened eyes. Anonymous' chest heaved, taking in greedy lungfuls of air. His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, a faraway look on them, but it cleared as the moments passed. Shakily, he sat up. "You," he panted, giving Rarity a tired smile. His hand cupped her cheek. "Are amazing." Rarity smiled, leaning in to his touch. "Careful, darling. Flattery will get you everywhere." He chuckled. "That's the idea. But now it's my turn to return the favor." Rarity giggled. "Well, if you insist. I do believe I have a booster shot or two around here somewhere." "A... booster shot?" "Call it a," she glanced down to his cock. "Performance enhancer." Anonymous scoffed. "Please. I'm twenty years too early to need that junk." "Oh. But then... how will you..." "Just give me like ten minutes." He laughed. "Hell, give me five minutes. I am so backed up, I'll be ready to go again soon." Rarity gave him a look. "What? Don't believe me? " "It's just," she hesitated. "Hard to believe. Most stallions can go once a day. Twice if they're lucky." "...You can't be serious." "If only," she sighed. "Booster potions help with it, but they don't see much use outside of heat season or... stud stables. Most stallions are perfectly satisfied after one go." Anonymous took a moment to process this. He heard the jokes, of course. Word got around. Stallions weren't known for their endurance in the sack even at the best of times, but this? "Wow, that's... wow. You mares don't have it easy, huh?" Rarity chuckled mirthlessly. "Welcome to Equestria, darling." Anonymous shook his head. "Rarity." He took her hoof in hand and kissed it, then repeated the action with the other. "On behalf of all men, you have my condolences. In fact, I insist on making it up to you." "Hm? And how do you propose to do that?" "We go up to your room, lock ourselves in and we won't come out until you can't feel anything below your waist." Rarity blushed. "O-oh, my." She could see he meant it, too. A newfound hunger began to creep in on his eyes. It made her realize she hadn't achieved release herself. As if sensing this, the dull ache in her marehood flared anew. She gulped, steeling herself. As much as she wanted to give in and witness his endurance firsthoof, there was still a proverbial fly in the ointment. "Now that's an enticing thought," she said. "But Sweetie Belle will be coming home eventually." He clicked his tongue. "Right, I forgot about that." Rarity smiled. "Oh, I'm sure there's plenty we can do until then. In fact, Sweetie Belle won't be home for about..." She craned her neck to look at the clock that hung over the entrance to the living room. "Fifty minutes. Plenty of time for S-Swee-SWEET-SWEETIE BELLE?!" The unicorn filly was as a statue. A wide-eyed, unblinking, very red statue, rooted to the spot just before the threshold to the kitchen, saddlebags bursting with school supplies, unmoved even by Rarity's piercing shriek. Rarity's own brain seemed to lag for a moment, and once she realized her own compromising position, hastily backed away from Anonymous, who hastily tugged his underwear over his flaccid manhood, muttering a hushed 'Shit' under his breath as he nearly tripped over himself, scrambling to his feet. "Sweetie, darling," Rarity rasped, her voice strained. "Why aren't you in school?" She blinked. "Sweetie Belle, I asked you a question," Rarity said, reflexively falling back on her stern older sister voice. The filly's eyes met her sister's. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Sweetie then gulped, licked her lips and in a small, croaky voice said, "We... free period. Miss 'lee... let us go." Sweetie Belle's voice died in her throat. She remained unmoving, save for her eyes. Rarity's own mouth opened and closed wordlessly; combined with her wide unblinking eyes to give the impression of some sort of idiotic dying fish. Anonymous pulled his pants up, but flushed and turned away as the filly's eyes zeroed in on his crotch. Rarity took a deep breath and said, "Sweetie Belle, I want you to go up to your room, darling. I'll be up there with you shortly." Sweetie Belle did not move. She looked from Rarity to Anonymous and back. "What were you two doing?" Rarity bit her lip, just barely holding back a whine of despair. She took an authoritative step forward and said, "Sweetie Belle, do not make me repeat myself. Just... just go up! I'll explain things later." An odd pall came over the filly, adopting a faint tinge of green that clashed horribly with her flushed coat. Her little face twisted into an ill-favored grimace. "Did he pee in your mouth?" Rarity's hoof slammed down. "ROOM! NOW!" Sweetie Belle squeaked in fear before she zipped up the stairs, slamming the door behind her. Rarity's legs gave out and she flopped onto the floor, burying her face in her hooves, channeling her frustration and embarrassment into a single, agonized wail. "Little siblings, huh?" Her head snapped to Anonymous, who flinched. He grasped his arm, shuffling in place. "I should... probably go, I think." Rarity sighed and wearily got to her hooves. "Yes, I... I think that would be best." Anonymous nodded. He cleared his throat. "Ah, will you be okay?" Rarity grimaced. "Probably not. I never thought I'd have to give the talk to any foal but my own." Another mournful sigh. "Hopefully Sweetie Belle wasn't too... scarred from the experience." "Y-yeah," he said. "Well, I'll leave you to it then. Good, eh, good luck." Rarity watched him go and set about the task of cleaning up their little mess. Well, hers. A not inconsiderable patch of moisture glistened on the pristine floor of her kitchen. She cleaned it thoroughly, almost obsessively; a good excuse to prolong the inevitable trudge up the stairs and the unpleasant, humiliating conversation she'd have with her sister. She'd have to be extra nice for the coming days and give Sweetie Belle no small amount of concessions if she hoped to swear her to secrecy, for Rarity would literally, not figuratively, die if her parents found out. She levitated the basin to the sink and emptied its contents, foregoing the use of magic and instead used her hooves to give it a proper cleaning. The burning need in her marehood, though dulled from the previous events, now returned in full force. She couldn't even use one of her toys. The session would not be short, of that she was sure, nevermind the fact she'd not be able to look her sister in the eye if she relieved herself first. Her stock of moonblossom tea had run out as well and Rarity never bother to refill it, so confident her and her friends' plan would bear fruit. "Well there you go, Rarity. That's what you get for not being prepared," she said to herself. This did not bode well. Her arousal only grew. Anonymous' taste lingered in her mouth. She squeezed her legs. Already a fresh trickle of mare juice dripped down them. With a horny growl of frustration, Rarity realized she was left with no other choice. *THUNK* *THUNK* *THUNK* Author's Note Ain't I a stinker? 8
Stormy Skies - Part 1View OnlineHeat SeasonStormy Skies - Part 1For Twilight, it didn’t get much better than this. A good book, a hot drink and the pitter patter of rain outside. Lightning flashed, illuminating everything around her in a sea of white. She rested atop a comfy recliner on her balcony, protected from the wind and rain by use of a localized shield spell. Another flash of lighting. The thunder that followed shook the treehouse. Twilight sipped her drink. Big downpour today, she mused to herself. It had been a busy day for Rainbow and her weather ponies, corralling and melding the clouds together, massing them to the point they enveloped all Ponyville, plus several miles around. Applejack must be happy. The rain would certainly ease her workload tomorrow, using the time she’d spent watering her fields and gardens for something else. On a whim, Twilight closed her book. She eased her way out the recliner and trotted over to the railing of her balcony, draping her hooves over it. Another flash of lightning lit up the town, however briefly. Her eyes were drawn to the town hall—Ponyville’s main fixture, to Twilight’s discerning eye. The town’s main roads all connected to it. They splintered off into smaller side streets, crosspaths and alleys, like arteries and blood vessels connected to a beating heart. And there she could see Sugarcube Corner, its happy, vibrant colors muted by the sterile white flash of lightning. A single light shone from the windows, Pinkie’s room at the tower that poked out from the center of the shop. Staying up late, Twilight thought wryly. Not that she’d be one to talk, indulging in more than her share of late nights. A bit lonely, they used to be, though not so much now with Owlowiscious to keep her company. Her eyes swept over the town in between bouts of lightning. The normally lively town, now deserted, briefly bathed in harsh white light... it gave it an eerie sort of quality. Ah, and over there stood the shop of the flower sisters, its shutters closed, their precious merchandise hidden away from the harsh deluge outside. Rarity too, seemed to be enjoying a late night, if the lights from her boutique were an indication. Working on an order? Tinkering with a potential new design? She often lost track of time, when her passions consumed her. Twilight could be much the same. And there stood Anonymous, soaked to bone and taking shelter under the eaves of a... Twilight stood up straighter. She squinted, peering closely at the spot where she’d seen him. More lightning. Yep, there he stood, arms wrapped around himself. Twilight cocked her head. What was he doing out so late? Didn’t he read the weather report? Did humans make it a habit of going out in the rain? Probably not. He appeared somewhat uncomfortable. She pondered this for a moment before deciding on a course of action. Her wings unfolded, ready to take flight. Hmm, maybe I shouldn’t. She folded them back in place. Rainbow (and to a lesser extent, Fluttershy) constantly reminded her she needed to stretch her wings, to strengthen her muscles and improve her coordination. It was one thing to do so on a clear, breezy day. Another thing entirely to do so in the middle of a rainstorm at night. Nodding to herself she instead dispelled the shield that kept out the elements and enveloped herself inside a smaller protective bubble. With a flash of magic, she teleported in front of her target. He started a bit upon seeing her, but then relaxed. “Anonymous?” “Hey,” he said. “What are you doing out here? It’s raining.” “I noticed.” Her lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. He regarded her strangely and Twilight felt her ears droop somewhat. She’d made a foal of herself yesterday, going off on him after his remark. Well, it’s nothing she couldn’t recover from. She decided to extend a peace offering and expanded the shield spell so that it covered a larger area. “Why don’t you come in? You must be cold.” He appraised the shield with a curious eye. “Are you sure?” Twilight nodded, smiling encouragingly. He rubbed the back of his neck, gazing out at the rain. “Alright,” he muttered. He reached out with a finger, pressing it against the bubble. It yielded easily, continuously rippling from around the digit. Deliberately, somewhat hesitantly, he stepped forth. The shield shimmered, flickering. Twilight quickly stabilized it. “I know a spell, if you’d like. For your clothes.” He considered this for a moment and nodded. Twilight’s horn glowed brighter. The space within the bubble quickly warmed up. Anonymous’ clothes fluttered as though whipped by a strong breeze, completely drying them in the span of a few seconds. He gave Twilight an appreciative nod. “Thanks. Much better.” She smiled graciously, returning the gesture. “No problem.” Her smile faded. Anonymous regarded her strangely. Twilight cleared her throat and said, “So what were you doing out so late?” “Jogging.” A curious glint appeared in her eyes. “Jogging?” She stretched out the word, testing it. “Cantering, I guess would be the equivalent.” Twilight brightened up. “Oh! I do it too, sometimes, usually with Fluttershy. You know, out in Whitetail Woods? She likes to go in the morning—that's when the wild critters are most active. We invited Rainbow Dash a few times, but she got bored and flew off somewhere.” “Let me guess, the pace was too slow for her?” Twilight grinned. “She tried to make the whole outing into a workout.” “Sounds like her.” A particularly loud, rattling thunderclap startled them both. “Goodness,” Twilight mumbled, looking out into the rain. “You really shouldn’t be out in this weather. Didn’t you see the weather report?” “I must have missed it.” “Oh. Well...” she hesitated. Ponyville wasn’t exactly a large town. That said, Lyra’s house was a bit of a trot away. “Why don’t you come in for a while, just until the rain stops?” She gestured to the library with a wing. “You don’t mind? It’s pretty late.” “I’m a late sleeper.” He glanced over at the library. It was too dark for Twilight to get a proper read on him. “Alright. Thanks.” She led the way. The ground level of her house was pitch dark, but a simple spell on her part bathed the area in a soft, dim glow. She didn’t worry about waking up Spike. The little dragon could sleep through almost anything. She gave him leave to make himself at home and then trotted to the little kitchen, firing up the stove and warming up a small pot of water. A properly applied touch of magic and the contents boiled almost instantly. “I hope you like cocoa,” she said, trotting into the room, two mugs held aloft by her magical grasp. Anonymous sat by the rectangular coffee table, atop one of the floor cushions. He took the mug with a grateful nod, wrapping both hands around it. He appeared somewhat chilly still. Twilight cast a subtle localized enchantment that gradually warmed the living area. “Thanks,” he muttered and absentmindedly sipped his drink. His features perked up and he regarded the beverage with newfound interest. He took another sip. “This is amazing.” Twilight smiled, following suit. She sat across from him. “It’s the good stuff. Imported straight from Tenochtitlan.” “Tenochtitlan... aren’t they that weird reclusive enclave?” “Formerly reclusive. They’ve turned over a new leaf ever since that awful Ahuizotl was deposed. Well,” she said thoughtfully. “It’d be more accurate to say they’re in the process of turning over a new leaf. Officially, their territory is closed off to outsiders and there’s virtually no trade with them to speak of, but our peace talks with them are making good headway.” She held up the mug for emphasis. “They even gifted the crown enough cocoa beans to sink a ship.” She took another sip, savoring the rich, complex taste. “It’s fascinating. Did you know they use cocoa beans for currency? Their land is rich with gold and they are masters at bending and shaping it... yet it’s completely absent from their monetary system. They mainly use it for ceremonial and ornamental purposes and often they shape it into the figure of their idols, or busts depicting members of the royal lineage. They also weave it in conjunction with some of the most exquisite featherwork you’ve ever see and...” She caught herself and cleared her throat. “S-sorry. Didn’t mean to ramble.” “It’s alright.” Almost as an afterthought, he added, “It’s interesting stuff.” Twilight nodded, sipping more of the delicious drink. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you out so late? I mean, cante—er, jogging’s not too uncommon among ponies, but it’s normally a daytime activity. Is doing it at night a human proclivity or...” He shook his head. “Daytime’s the usual for us too, I just find it convenient. It helps me think.” Something crashed into the tree’s exterior, rattling everything around it. It came from the balcony area. Twilight and Anonymous looked on, the former frowning; an exasperated sigh left her lips as a vaguely equine shape opened one of the windows and fluttered inside, dripping copious amounts of rainwater along the way. Rainbow Dash touched down not too far from Twilight, her eyes covered by the damp tresses of her mane. She adopted a hunched, dog-like stance. Twilight’s eyes widened imperceptibly, and she barely managed to conjure up a shield before Rainbow shook herself vigorously, drenching the area around her. She sighed in relief and removed the still damp hair from her eyes. “Oh. Hey, Twi. You’re up late.” “I could say the same,” Twilight said sharply. “Thanks for that, by the way,” she said, gesturing to the soaked area. “Hey, it’s a tree. Water’s good for it, probably.” “You’re missing the point,” Twilight sighed and cast another spell that immediately dried up all the water. “Why are you even here? Don’t you know what time it is?” “How should I know?” She gestured out the window with a hoof. “I’ve been out there trying to get a handle on this clusterbuck... hey, you gonna drink that?” Before Twilight could answer, she found her mug swiped by a blue wing. Rainbow brought it to her lips and gulped the contents down. “Yeah, go ahead,” Twilight muttered. “Go on, drink up.” “Whoo! That hit the spot. Thanks, Twi. Real good stuff you got there.” The brazen pegasus promptly made a beeline for the kitchen, disappearing somewhere off the threshold, not even registering the human’s presence. Twilight sighed and gave the nonplussed Anonymous a vaguely apologetic look. “Rainbow,” she called out, opting for a more diplomatic approach. “Why are you here?” “Gotta refuel,” Rainbow answered thickly, as if speaking with a mouth full. “The storm’s getting way out of control. I got every weather pony out there working overtime. We need to get a handle on that big mother before it gets out of hoof!” “What?” Twilight sprang up, alarmed. “Out of control? Rainbow! What in the world is going on?” Rainbow emerged from the kitchen. In her wing she held an apple, a banana, and in the other a hoofful of Spike’s homemade cowcolt cookies. “Somepony, and I’m not naming any names—Stormfeather—went and grabbed some freakazoid cloud from over the Everfree.” She promptly took a savage bite of the banana and ate it, peel and all. “It’s messed up a bunch of our normal clouds. They’re getting wilder, harder to control and it just keeps spreading.” She tore into the rest of the banana and destroyed the apple in one massive bite. “Anyway, I should probably get back to it. Cloudsdale’s gonna want a report once we get... oh, hey big guy. Didn't see you here.” For the first time she registered the human’s presence and gave him a cursory wave of her wing. “Say,” she said slowly, looking from Anonymous to Twilight. “What are you doing here so late?” “Rainbow, focus!” Twilight said, exasperated. “What’s the plan?” “The plan is I go out there and kick some cloud flank.” She shoved a cookie in her mouth. “Don’t worry your little egghead about it. We just gotta bust them faster than they can multiply. Pretty simple stuff. But you know...” “What?” “There’s a lotta open skies to cover, so it’s probably gonna take a while. So just relax and get...” Rainbow’s eyes flickered to Anonymous, and her lips curled to a conspiratorial smirk. “Comfortable.” “R-Rainbow Dash!” Twilight sputtered. “We’re not... that’s not what I was...” “Hey, it’s not my business,” she said with a rakish grin. “You do you.” Her wings fluttered and she took to the air. “Have a good night, Twi. You too, big guy.” She flashed him a wink and leaned into his ear, whispering aloud. “Just watch yourself. You know what they say about the nerdy ones.” Twilight felt herself die inside as a grinning Rainbow turned to her. “They’re freaks in the sack.” Cackling at her joke and patting the human in the back, Rainbow promptly flew out the door. A surge of gale force winds whipped the library’s interior, sending in a surge of water and other detritus before Twilight’s magic slammed the door shut. Another flash of magic and the ruined entryway returned to its normal state. Twilight stood rooted to the spot. Her eye twitched. Strands of her mane sprang back like tightened curls. “Oh, that Rainbow,” she said with false cheer. Her chest heaved with a strained laugh. She craned her neck to Anonymous. “She’s such a jokester.” “Sure.” It took every single ounce of willpower for Twilight to not wilt then and there. Her eyes searched desperately for... something, eventually landing on the mug Anonymous held in a slackened grip. “So,” Her voice cracked as she held up her (formerly Rainbow’s) discarded mug. “How about a refill?” Author's Note Here's a fun tidbit. Part of the reason Anon took up nighttime jogging (bonus points if you recognized the callback to the first chapter) was due to the fact his bedroom is directly below Lyra and Bon Bon's. That and the walls were thin. I'm sure you can make a guess. The more serious turn the last chapter took kinda derailed some things and I'll have to overhaul some upcoming parts to adjust for it. Anon was supposed to fill Twilight in on that jogging tidbit, but given the circumstances it just wouldn't fit. Still, the last chapter taking the turn it did felt right and very natural so I'm not too worried. Also it considerably sped up a particular scene I've just been itching to write. You'll see at the end of the following chapter.
