The Ponyville Prowler

The moon hung high over the sleepy little town of Ponyville, casting its pale light down onto the empty streets and quiet houses below. At that late hour, most of those houses were dark, their occupants having already switched off the lights and snuggled into their beds for a good night's sleep. Most of those few buildings that were still lit were the sort of places one would expect to still be lively at such a time: bars, taverns, and the twenty-four-hour ice cream shop that had opened a few months earlier. There was, however, one of these locations that had no business being busy at such a time, that being the little red schoolhouse that sat prettily atop a short hill at the edge of town.

The schoolhouse, as one would expect, would normally have been quiet and peaceful at that time of night, with its many energetic students safe and snug at home in their beds. On this particular night, however, the schoolhouse's lights were still brightly lit, and despite the lack of any fillies or colts around, the sounds of voices could be heard emanating from within, voices made terse and harsh by frustration and tiredness.

Eventually, the business of the schoolhouse's occupants concluded, and the building quieted as a number of bleary-eyed parents and other members of the community gradually filed out. Most of those mares and stallions were visibly exhausted, and while that was partly due to the lateness of the hour, much more of that was due to the emotionally draining business they had taken part in over the past few hours. While none of them wore particularly pleasant expressions, not one amongst them could boast a more unpleasant visage than that of the mare that strode quickly and confidently out of the schoolhouse, not giving the dispersing crowd a second glance as she passed them by.

Her otherwise bare feet were clad in a pair of designer high-heeled shoes, the tall stilettos of which were simultaneously alluring and intimidating to behold. Her long, curvaceous legs were squeezed into a pair of professional-looking slacks which, despite clinging tightly to her skin, did little to keep her thick, pillowy thighs from jiggling slightly as she walked. The pair of ponderous, plush cheeks attached to the back of her wide, motherly hips were similarly animated, the overstrained fabric of her poor pants having a hard enough time merely containing her astronomical ass, much less keeping it from wobbling like two big bowls of gelatin dessert beneath her long, swishing tail. Her belly, which she worked hard to keep slim and trim, was concealed beneath a fashionable top and blazer, which gave her the appearance of some high-class female executive: undeniably feminine, but also tough enough to keep those beneath her in line. That professional image was somewhat diminished by the pair of comically large and unnaturally perky breasts that strained against her clothing, threatening to burst her buttons with every breath she took. A gaudy handbag, one more expensive than most mares could ever dream of possessing, was slung casually over her shoulder. Upon one of her perfectly manicured fingers sat a ring with an immense diamond, complementing the small rings of gold that hung from her ears and the string of large pearls that sat upon her neck. The peachy-pink coat of her sharp-featured face was remarkably taut for a middle-aged mare such as her, and was decorated with expensive makeup straight from Canterlot. Her long, purple mane, which was normally so finely coiffed, was now slightly disheveled, a fact which she quickly worked to rectify. While she was soon able to fix her hair, she could do little about the tired look in her eyes, the sharp muzzle so upturned that it seemed to scrape the sky, and the scowl upon her plush, feminine lips, one sour enough to have curdled fresh milk.

The mare's proper name was Spoiled Rich, and while her marriage to Ponyville's most successful businesspony had certainly made her wealthy enough to be worthy of that name, there were some who chose to refer to her, under their breaths, by a certain rhyming moniker, one that the mare's abrasive personality made her even more deserving of. While rude, such jabs were certainly not unfounded, for Spoiled Rich was a mare unlike any other that had ever stalked the streets of Ponyville: fifty percent silicone, fifty percent botox, and one hundred percent bitch.

"Thank Celestia that's over," Spoiled muttered as she quickly exited the schoolyard.

There were times that Spoiled regretted using her husband's money to become the head of the school board, what with the mind-numbing meetings and the myriad of other responsibilities that came with the position. In truth, she would much rather have spent that evening back at her luxurious home, sipping on expensive wine and lounging in a nice, hot bubble bath, rather than overseeing the school board's annual budget meeting. Hours of listening to the endless proposals of new expenditures, and the associated facts and figures, had taken a heavy toll on her, as it always did. After such grueling work, she often contemplated stepping down and letting some other poor fool take up the reigns and oversee the driveling idiots that sat on the board with her.

Of course, Spoiled would always come to her senses eventually, recognizing that those same idiots would be lost without her brilliant leadership. If she were not there to shut down the inane ideas of those illiterate yokels whose spawn attended the school, the place surely would have run aground years earlier. Why, just that night, some mare had had the audacity to suggest that the board spend a tremendous amount of bits buying new textbooks for the students' use. Spoiled had, of course, quickly rejected that wasteful proposal. So what if some of those books were older than she was; they were still perfectly good!

Spoiled sighed heavily, her ample chest jiggling slightly as she exhaled. Despite the many headaches they gave her, she was not about to abandon her responsibilities. Somepony had to maintain standards at that school, and it certainly wasn't going to be that pushover Cheerilee. No, if her Diamond Tiara was forced to attend that school, then she was going to make sure that it remained a school worthy of her...at least until the little filly was old enough to be shipped off to a respectable boarding school. When that day finally came, she could kiss her school-related responsibilities, and those few parental responsibilities she actually fulfilled, goodbye. Her expression softened slightly at the thought of all the extra time she would have for shopping and pampering on the day that she would never have to look at that blasted school again.

Fantasies of freedom and relaxation continued to drift through Spoiled's mind as she made her way down the streets of Ponyville. While she was quite familiar with the lanes and avenues of that little town, and could have easily navigated her way back home in broad daylight, the darkness of night made the task a bit more challenging. She was not used to walking home so late, not used to seeing the familiar shops and homes around her shrouded in such deep shadow. She was grateful, therefore, that the moon high overhead was shining brightly, providing enough soft illumination to make out familiar landmarks...until that pale light was suddenly and completely cut off.

Spoiled froze in her tracks as the world around her was plunged into near-complete darkness, the only visible lights being the tiny pinpricks of the stars high overhead. She quickly looked up at where the moon had been moments earlier, realizing that a large, thick cloud had drifted across it, obscuring it completely. Grumbling in annoyance, Spoiled resumed walking, trusting that the wind would blow the cloud out of the way shortly. She went slowly, straining her tired eyes so as not to miss the turn she knew she needed to take soon. When she came to a gap between two buildings to her left, she turned and made her way down it, thinking it to be the little lane that she normally walked down on her way home from the schoolhouse.

Spoiled had only been walking for a few seconds, however, when the dim light of the moon suddenly returned, the cloud having presumably moved on. With the return of the light, she saw, to her annoyance, that she was actually walking down a small, dirty alleyway decorated with trash bins and scattered bits of litter. Grumbling in disgust, the stubborn mare continued down the alleyway, rather than doubling back, knowing that it would only be a few moments before she would step out onto the street on the other side. She could not have been more wrong.

Spoiled had made it about halfway through the alley, carefully avoiding stepping in or on anything unsavory all the while, when there came a sudden metallic noise from behind her. She started in surprise, and quickly whipped around in time to see the lid of one of the trash cans she had passed finish settling onto the ground where it had fallen. As she watched the metal dish fall still, the rational part of her brain told her that the lid must have been simply been blown off of the can by the wind, as she saw nothing that would have suggested an alternative explanation, although the fact that she had not felt even a hint of a breeze kept her heart beating at an elevated rate.

Spoiled was just about to turn back around, when she suddenly heard another sound coming from behind her. Again, she whipped around, watching as an old broom that had been propped against one of the buildings finished clattering to the ground. Again, there was nothing to suggest that the disturbance had not been caused by a sudden breeze, other than the fact that she had not felt any such breeze.

As she stood there, frozen in place, listening to the heavy pounding of her heart, Spoiled was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was all alone in a dark alleyway at night...at least, she had thought she was alone. She gulped, and slowly scanned her surroundings, looking upon every shadowy object around her with new eyes.

"Is...Is someone the—" Spoiled began, before being cut off by sudden, swift breeze that rushed down the alleyway behind her and washed over her like a wave of icy water. Spoiled yelped in shock as she felt the wind's chilly kiss, and reflexively spun around to look in the direction it had blown from. She saw nothing but a few pieces of litter rolling across the ground, and a few trash cans rattling slightly from the wind, but that fact did little to comfort her.

A mere moment later, Spoiled felt another swift breeze upon her back, caressing her feminine curves like a lecherous hand, and disturbing her painstakingly arranged mane. When she again turned and saw nothing but an empty alleyway behind her, her heart began to pound even harder, both due to fear, and due to a rising anger over something that she was now confident was not a random occurrence of the weather.

"Who's there?" she said with as much dignity and authority as she could muster. "Show yourself this instant!"

Several seconds passed, but no further breezes swept down the alley, and Spoiled's mysterious tormentor, if they were more than a figment of her fearful imagination, did not reveal themselves. Eventually, Spoiled began to think that she was indeed just imagining things, her tired and overworked brain playing tricks on her. Grumbling in annoyance, she stood up straight, did what she could to fix her mane, then swiftly turned and resumed her journey down the alley. The sounds of her muttered curses and the soft crunching of the dirt beneath her feet were hardly audible, but even they were as loud as thunder compared to the pair of wings that sliced through the air behind her, gliding as silently as a barn owl.

Several things then happened in quick succession. Spoiled's frazzled mind, swamped with annoyed and frustrated thoughts, was abruptly wiped clean by a sudden jolt of painful pleasure that shot through her like lightning, freezing her in place and eliciting a sharp, gasping yelp. For a brief moment, she was paralyzed by the overwhelming sensation, staring wide-eyed and slack-jawed straight ahead. When the initial shock wore off, she quickly followed the sensation down to her chest, gazing in shocked horror down at her massive, mouthwatering breasts, and at the pair of strong hands that was currently cupping them, squeezing them roughly through her clothing. Acting purely on instinct, she looked back over her shoulder, expecting to see the pony that those hands belonged to. Instead, she saw a flash of movement almost too quick to detect, felt a powerful breeze, and then, before she had even realized what was going on, she found herself alone in the alleyway once again, quivering from adrenaline. All of this transpired in merely a few seconds.

Spoiled's breaths were quick and heavy, and her heartbeats thunderous as she swiveled her head around and around, searching for her mysterious assailant. As the seconds passed, and her shock gradually wore off, she eventually realized that she was indeed alone in the alley...at least for the moment.

Now, a more sensible mare in Spoiled's position might have immediately turned tail and bolted out of the alley, or perhaps screamed for help, alerting the ponies sleeping in the nearby houses to her plight. Unfortunately, Spoiled Rich was not a sensible mare even on a good day. As that prideful, uptight, and oh-so-bitchy mare slowly realized what had happened, she did not make any move to flee the scene. Instead, her pounding heart slowly filled with a roiling, seething, bubbling rage, a rage which quickly showed itself on her venomous visage.

"How dare you!" Spoiled said, addressing the empty alleyway. "How dare you!" Her voice grew stronger and more confident as she continued, the mare tapping into that indignant energy she normally reserved for demanding to speak with someone's manager. "How dare you lay a hand on me! Do you know who I am? Do you know who I—"

So consumed was Spoiled by her righteous fury that she didn't notice the figure silently swooping down through the air behind her. Of course, even if she had been twice as angry as she was, she would not have failed to notice the pair of hands that suddenly seized her vulnerable ass and sank their fingers deeply into those plush, jiggly cheeks. Again, she yelped at the feeling of her soft flesh being so mercilessly manhandled, but recovered much quicker than before. In an instant, she had swiveled her head, intending to catch the unknown pervert in the act, but just as before, she saw nothing but a flash of motion, and felt nothing but a swift breeze wash over her, before finding herself alone in the alley once again, her ass still tingling from its rough handling.

"Oh...you've done it now!" Spoiled snarled, her fearsome eyes darting to and fro over the alley. "You can't even imagine what's going to happen to you! Why, when my husband's lawyer is through with you, you'll be begging for mercy! He'll sue you so hard that your grandfoals will feel it! You'll be lucky if you get away with a life sentence working in the salt mines, you miserable, disgusting, perverted..."

Spoiled's threats were suddenly cut off by a sharp gasp as a swift hand darted down and plunged into her top, seizing the sensitive flesh of one of her breasts and squeezing it roughly. A jolt of pain shot through her as she felt those strong fingers slip beneath the cup of her bra and pinch her thick nipple, although the spine-tingling pleasure that accompanied it, an incomparable sensation that made her thighs quiver and her marehood clench reflexively, was even more powerful. When she had recovered from the shock of it, she looked down at the arm that hand was attached to and followed it to where it led: not behind her, but above her, up to the Pegasus pony that hovered in midair just above her head, leering down at her.

The instant Spoiled's gaze fell upon those hungry eyes and that lecherous grin, the pegasus reached down and grabbed her face with their free hand, squishing Spoiled's cheeks and forcing her plush lips into a pucker. "That's enough outta you, bitch," said the pegasus in a raspy voice, before leaning their head down and pressing their lips firmly against Spoiled's.

Spoiled let out a muffled gasp as she was drawn into a forceful kiss, her soft lips roughly parted to make way for the strong tongue that slipped into her mouth. She continued to grunt in shock and anger as her assailant's tongue dominated her own, quickly wrapping it in a wrestler's hold and squeezing it into submission. At the same time, the hand on her breasts continued to fondle that soft flesh, greedily grabbing great handfuls of both boobs and tweaking her rapidly stiffening nipples without mercy. The carnal assault took its toll on Spoiled's mind, and her blinding rage was tempered by sparks of pleasure that accompanied every grope and pinch, a fact which made her cheeks redden in embarrassment.

Eventually, when she regained control of her trembling body, Spoiled managed to raise a hand and take a swing at her assailant. Spoiled's clumsy swipe, while well-aimed, was pathetically weak and slow, giving her speedy assailant more then enough time to avoid it. A wet pop sounded out as the pegasus broke their kiss and withdrew their head, chuckling as Spoiled's fist sailed harmlessly though the air.

"Ooh...feisty!" the pegasus taunted.

Spoiled grunted as she shook her head free of the pegasus' grasp. "Oh, I'll show you feisty, you disgusting…"

In one swift motion, the pegasus swept down and pressed themselves against Spoiled's back. Their boob-squeezing hand held Spoiled in a tight grip, while their other hand quickly returned to her face, clamping down over her mouth and silencing the bitchy mare. Spoiled wriggled and writhed in the pegasus' grasp, spewing a stream of muffled threats and curses, but was unable to free herself, the pegasus' strong arms easily keeping her locked in place.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure," said the pegasus dismissively. "But before we get started..."

The hand on Spoiled's mouth was suddenly removed, and she took the opportunity to get out yet another insult. "You dirty, disgusting animal!" she said. "You—"

Spoiled would immediately regret opening her mouth, however, as the pegasus' hand soon returned, clutching an object that was quickly and forcefully shoved into her gaping piehole. Spoiled's shocked exclamation was muffled by the unknown object: something large, soft, and made of fabric. She grunted in rage at the indignity of being gagged in such a manner, but as that fabric pressed against her tongue, and she detected its sharp, rank taste, her anger became audibly mixed with disgust.

The pegasus chuckled maliciously. "That taste good, bitch?" they said. "I went on a good, long run today to get it all ready for you."

Spoiled practically frothed at the mouth at the realization that her assailant had shoved a thick, sweaty gym sock into her mouth. The sheer indignity of it drove her into a wild frenzy, and she violently thrashed about, attempting to kick the pegasus with her heeled shoes. The pegasus, however, merely chuckled at her fruitless attempts at resistance, easily avoiding her impotent attacks.

The pegasus allowed Spoiled a moment to vent, holding her tightly all the while, then suddenly released her. Spoiled's handbag fell to the ground before her arms were roughly seized and pulled behind her, her wrists held firmly together against her lower back. With one strong hand, the pegasus held her wrists in place, and with the other, they reached down and grabbed hold of the long, beautiful tail that sat just below them. With practiced speed, and with a complete and utter disregard for Spoiled's luxurious locks, the pegasus wrapped that tail around and around Spoiled's wrists, binding them as tightly as any rope could have.

"There we go!" said the pegasus, giving their makeshift binding one final tug. "All nice and tight."

Spoiled grunted, both from the pain of her tail being so roughly handled, and from the infuriating indignity of the whole situation. She attempted to break free of her bindings, but her arms were too securely bound, and so she accomplished nothing but giving her tail another painful tug.

Having no further need to keep Spoiled restrained, the pegasus released her arms and reached back around her. "Now...let's get down to business," they said as they once again reached for Spoiled's chest.

Spoiled's top and blazer were already strained by the massive, melon-sized mammaries they attempted to contain, teetering precariously on the edge of their breaking point. As such, when the pegasus seized Spoiled's clothes and gave them a strong tug, they immediately and climatically ripped open, allowing their highly pressurized cargo to spring forth. Spoiled grunted as her tits exploded out of her top, those jiggling jugs held in place solely by the cups of her lacy black bra.

The pegasus chuckled at the sight of the erotic undergarment. "Aww...you didn't have to get all sexied-up on my account," they taunted. "Especially 'cause..."

Spoiled was about to object to her assailant's implication, but her muffled retort was cut short as the pegasus grabbed the cups of her bra and, with a strong tug, ripped the delicate underwear apart. Spoiled gasped as her boobs were freed from their final constraint, those great pink globes with their rock-hard nipples jiggling as they settled into place...but not as much as one would expect.

The pegasus watched those giant jugs jostling together, taking note of how well they held their round shape, even without the aid of a bra. Their eager fingers quickly made their way back to those tantalizing tits, giving each of them a deep, probing squeeze. As her chest was once again subjected to a rough manhandling, Spoiled grunted loudly, both due to anger, and due to a rising arousal that she fought desperately to ignore.

"Ha! I knew it!" said the pegasus as they squeezed and squished Spoiled's breasts, assessing their form and consistency. "I knew these things were fake! How much did your husband spend on 'em?"

Spoiled attempted to retort that her beautiful breasts were worth more than her assailant made in a year, but her muffled words fell on deaf ears.

"And how 'bout the basement?" said the pegasus, removing one of their hands from Spoiled's breasts and reaching down towards her ass.

A sharp crack of flesh-on-flesh sounded out as the pegasus smacked her hand into one of Spoiled's cushiony ass cheeks, seizing it roughly. Spoiled's eyes went wide, and she let out a muffled exclamation of shock at the feel of that strike, and at the subsequent squeezing of her soft, doughy flesh.

"Oh...you're all natural down here, aren't you?" said the pegasus. "Bet you didn't need any help plumping up this fat ass, did you, bitch?" They punctuated this remark with another hard spank, eliciting another muffled squeal from Spoiled. "You know, I enjoy a nice, thick milf as much as the next pony, but you could really stand to lose a few pounds." Another spank, this time on the other cheek, set that ass wobbling, and got another pathetic squeak out of Spoiled. "But don't worry," they said, leaning in and purring into Spoiled's ear, "I think I can help you get some exercise."

Spoiled's fierce, angry expression faltered as the reality of her situation began to permeate the thick haze of rage that clouded her mind. Skin-crawling, spine-tingling, pussy-clenching fear began to seep into her heart as she realized that her assailant was after more than just a few playful squeezes, and that, despite her lofty status, her great influence, and her obscene wealth, she was absolutely powerless to prevent them from taking whatever it was they wanted. Her snooty face soon betrayed her rising dread, but the moistening of her lacy panties betrayed a certain other emotion that was rising just as rapidly.

The pegasus suddenly released Spoiled's ass and tits, wrapping their arms around her middle and holding her tightly against their chest. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?" they said.

Too late, Spoiled recognized the implication of her assailant's words. She had just enough time to get out a muffled squeal of terror before the pegasus extended their broad, powerful wings and, with a mighty flap, sent both of them rocketing up into the air.

A strong burst of wind blew through the alley, whipping up dust and rattling trash cans, then all fell still once again. The sound of a muffled scream pierced the quiet night air, but quickly faded away, leaving the alley as silent as the grave. The only further disturbance came in the form of a single high-heeled shoe that fell from the sky a moment later, landing unceremoniously in the dirt next to a greasy trash can.

It was a beautiful summer day in Ponyville. The big, bright sun smiled down on the little town, bathing the streets and homes below in its warming light. Buzzing bees and beautiful butterflies fluttered amongst the flowers, giving those brilliant blooms loving kisses as they sampled their sweet nectar. Little birds chased each other through the trees, twittering happily as they played. A gentle breeze carried the soft, calming scents of earth and fresh-cut grass to the noses of any who cared to smell them. It was almost infectiously serene, that day, the sort of day that one could not help but smile and feel good upon seeing and experiencing for themselves.

Twilight Sparkle, however, was in no mood for smiling as she walked those sun-kissed streets, and her mood could not have been described as "good" by any stretch of the imagination. Her expression was hard, serious, and contemplative, and while it was not unusual to see the studious unicorn looking so, her swift, determined stride suggested that her clear concern was regarding something quite serious indeed. Those who thought this would have been entirely correct, for their was indeed something weighing heavily on the young mare's mind on that unfittingly perfect day.

A mare-molesting had taken place the night before, and it was up to Twilight to bring the perpetrator to justice.

Mare-molestings were not unheard of in those parts, not even in the peaceful town of Ponyville. The mares of that quaint little hamlet were unusually voluptuous, you see, with the average measurements of bust and hip being significantly greater than those of almost any other city in Equestria. Modern science had not yet explained why Ponyville's mares sported such massive milkers and such deliciously doughy dumptrucks; something in the water, perhaps? In any case, it was not an uncommon occurrence for a lecherous mare or stallion to be overcome by the buffet of bouncy boobs and butts around them, give in to their baser instincts, and risk a playful squeeze of the nearest cheek or chest-pillow.

Of course, just because such incidents were common did not mean that they were not taken very seriously. Mare-molesting was considered a heinous crime throughout Equestria (with the exception of the Crystal Empire. Apparently, ponies had been much more...free-spirited a thousand years earlier, and the Empire's temporally displaced citizens had not yet fully adjusted to modern standards of self-restraint.) Ponyville, however, treated such incidents especially seriously. Over the years, the town had developed a reputation as a happy, wholesome, family-friendly place, in spite of the abnormally lewd bodies of its marefolk. The townsponies worked hard to preserve that not-undeserved reputation, and to preserve their peaceful way of life. As a result, such perverse acts as ass-pinching and boob-groping were swiftly dealt with, their perpetrators apprehended and sentenced to appropriate punishments for their naughty transgressions.

Unfortunately, the incident that currently occupied Twilight's troubled thoughts was much more serious than a mere case of wandering hands. If the rumors were to be believed, rumors that had managed to spread throughout that little town over the course of a single morning, the merciless act of molestation that had taken place the night before would be one for the history books, if the history books chose to record such a vile act at all. Twilight had not heard much, but if even a fraction of what she had heard turned out to be true, then not since the Great Filly-Fondling of '62, a decades-old event by that point, had the town seen such an extreme act of carnal criminality.

A shiver ran up Twilight's spine as the lurid descriptions she had heard rattled around in her mind. She tried to stifle such thoughts and reign in her overactive imagination, but couldn't stop herself from picturing the perpetrator of the vile deed hiding behind a corner somewhere, just waiting for a vulnerable mare such as herself to wander by. Her fears were not unjustified, for, despite her impressive magical abilities, the little mare would have made a tempting target for any passing pervert.

Twilight was not a native of Ponyville, and so did not boast the sort of unabashedly feminine physique that was typical of her fellow Ponyvillian mares, yet her figure was undeniably alluring in its own way, the mare being short and girlishly petite, like a pretty little doll just waiting to be picked up and hugged tightly. Her attire, by comparison, was fairly bland. Functional, flat-soled shoes and knee-length socks covered her feet, and a conservative knee-length skirt hung from her hips, concealing her slender legs and her pert little butt. She wore a dark blue sweater-vest over her long-sleeved, collared shirt, although the pair of perky, purple breasts that hid beneath it were much too small to be called sweater puppies. Her face, when not marred by an anxious frown, was quite pretty, boasting a cute little snoot and big, purple eyes that sparkled when she got excited. Her long mane, like her tail, was dark blue with streaks of purple and pink, and was styled neatly and straight. A short, purple horn poked out from beneath those bangs, the appearance of that powerful appendage being almost unfittingly adorable.

Twilight shook her head to clear her mind of her fears and doubts. She may have been dressed like a schoolgirl, but she was not going to allow herself to be treated like the sort of slutty students that featured in the graphic novels she kept hidden under her bed. She needed to be strong, brave, and in control if she were to accomplish her mission and protect Ponyville from this new threat. Her fellow mares were counting on her, the whole town was counting on her, and most of all, her beloved mentor, Princess Celestia, was counting on her.

In truth, Twilight had been quite surprised when she had received Princess Celestia's letter that morning asking her to oversee the investigation. She hadn't been surprised, of course, to learn that Mayor Mare had immediately contacted the authorities upon learning of the previous night's mare-molesting, nor had she been surprised to hear that the princess had quickly dispatched a number of guards to handle the situation. However, being asked to oversee such a high-profile case, and to act at Celestia's eyes and ears in that sensitive matter, had left Twilight quite taken aback, the mare having had no experience dealing with such things before. The princess, presumably having predicted her long-time student's reaction, had written that she believed Twilight's intimate knowledge of Ponyville and its citizens, something her guards did not posses, would be invaluable to the investigation. More than that, however, the princess had conveyed the immense trust and faith she had in Twilight, and had said that she had no doubt that Twilight would be able to help resolve the situation.

As she recalled Princess Celestia's words, Twilight felt herself grow calmer, and felt her fears melt away. In spite of everything, a small smile crept onto her face at the thought that one such as the princess had such great confidence in her. Her shaky self-confidence grew stronger with every step she took, and she recalled the many victories and successes she had had over the years. She had saved Equestria from eternal night, bested the spirit of chaos, and helped rescue an Empire from an evil sorcerer-king, all with the help of her beloved friends, of course. So long as they stood by her side, Twilight imagined that there was nothing she could not accomplish, and that included the apprehension of a certain mysterious mare-molester.

Ponyville was not a very large town, and so it took only a few minutes for Twilight's brisk stride to carry her from her arboreal abode to a certain alleyway on the other side of town. The guards had sent word to her regarding the location of the crime scene, but even if they had not, she would have had little difficulty tracking it down. Even from a good distance away, she could see the tall, golden-armored guards standing in and around the alley. Lengths of police tape had been stretched across both ends of the alley, warning civilians to stay away, although the grim-faced guards standing at attention nearby were more than enough to ensure that those few anxious ponies who happened to pass by gave the area a wide berth. Twilight saw a number of guards within the alley, seemingly searching for clues, while a couple of other guards stood on the street, questioning the locals about what they had seen the night before.

As Twilight drew nearer to the alley, one of the guards, a hardy-looking stallion whose insignia marked him as a sergeant, approached her. "Miss Sparkle," said the sergeant in that authoritative monotone the royal guard were so known for, "I am Sergeant Copper Shield. Her Highness has informed us that you will be overseeing this investigation. My officers and I will be at your complete disposal while we are here. I want you to know that we are all prepared to do whatever is necessary to see this investigation through and bring the perpetrator of this crime to justice."

Twilight was momentarily taken aback by the sergeant's greeting. She was not used to being shown such deference by the royal guard, and while she had somewhat expected it, it still forced Twilight to feel the great weight of her new responsibility all the more. She did not allow it to unnerve her, however, and forced herself to remain calm and collected.

Despite the diminutive mare only coming up to the big stallion's broad chest, Twilight did her best to appear like the leader everypony was expecting her to be, standing up straight, looking the sergeant in the eye, and speaking in a clear, confident voice. "Hello Sergeant," she said. "I'm glad that you and your officers are here, and that you're prepared for the task ahead of us. I'm sure that, with your help, we'll be able to carry out this investigation quickly and effectively."

The sergeant's stony face did not budge, but the respectful nod he gave Twilight suggested that her words had had the desired effect. "It will be as you say, Miss Sparkle," he said.

Twilight sighed internally, relieved that things were getting off to a good start. "Now, what's the situation so far?" she said. "I've heard a lot about the incident this morning, but most of it hasn't been very...authoritative. Could you tell me what you and your officers have discovered so far?"

"Of course," said the sergeant, giving Twilight a curt nod. "If you'll follow me."

Twilight followed the sergeant as he turned and approached the alley, listening intently to his account.

"My officers and I were dispatched from Canterlot approximately three hours ago, and arrived here in Ponyville shortly afterwards," said the sergeant. "We met briefly with Mayor Mare, who relayed what information she had regarding the incident, then began our investigation. After speaking with several key witnesses, we were eventually able to locate the scene of the crime." He reached the alleyway and proceeded into it, stepping under the police tape as he went; Twilight quickly did the same. "We have been thoroughly inspecting the scene, as well as speaking with additional witnesses, and now believe we have a basic understanding of what occurred."

"Go on," said Twilight.

The sergeant stopped, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Our current assessment," he said, "is that this incident was a code six-nine." He looked down at Twilight, his expression deathly serious. "A mare-molesting. Victim: Ponyville resident Spoiled Rich."

The sergeant looked up at the alley again, gesturing appropriately as he continued. "From what we have discovered, the victim departed the local schoolhouse between 10:40 and 10:50 p.m. last night, after overseeing a meeting of the school board. Witnesses observed her walking alone towards this part of town, presumably heading towards her home. My officers tracked her to this alleyway, where we discovered her discarded handbag and one of her shoes."

Twilight saw the chalk outlines that had been drawn on the ground where Spoiled's possessions had lain, the articles themselves presumably having been collected as evidence.

"We also discovered evidence of unscheduled, highly localized wind patterns," the sergeant continued, "and an additional set of footprints that appeared only briefly, neither entering nor leaving the alley. This has led us to believe that, upon entering this alley, the victim was attacked by a Pegasus pony and carried off to an unknown location, where the perpetrator proceeded to molest her for an unknown period of time."

Twilight gulped as the described events played out in her mind's eye, her imagination once again filling her head with graphic images. She did her best to banish her lewd thoughts and focus on the task at hand. "What happened next?" she asked. "Spoiled escaped eventually, didn't she?"

"The victim was eventually discovered in the town square," said the sergeant, "although the evidence suggests that the perpetrator transported her there, rather than the victim having escaped."

"Who found her, and when?" asked Twilight. "And did they see the one who did this?"

"The victim was discovered on the doorstep of town hall by the local milkmare between 5:10 and 5:20 a.m. this morning," said the sergeant. "The milkmare did not see anyone else in the area at the time."

Twilight hesitated before asking her next question, considering how best to phrase it. "And...was Spoiled...okay when she was found?" she said.

Twilight saw the sergeant's jaw tighten. It was hard to read the stony stallion's face, but she thought he looked almost uncomfortable at her question.

"The victim was...uninjured," said the sergeant, the hesitancy of his response quite telling. "A subsequent medical assessment determined that she had not suffered any significant bodily harm. However...she..." An awkward pause betrayed his unease. Recovering quickly, the sergeant turned towards one of his officers and beckoned him closer. The officer quickly approached the sergeant and handed him a manila folder thickly filled with documents, before stepping away again. The sergeant looked back to Twilight, then handed her the folder. "This is the evidence we have collected so far. I would recommend that you consult it. It can provide a more...thorough description of events."

Twilight reached hesitantly for the folder, as if she feared it might explode at the slightest touch. When she finally held it in her hands, she stared down at it for a long moment, gulped, then slowly opened it. Contained within were a large number of documents of various type, quality, and size. There were photographs of the nearby buildings, and of the alleyway she stood in. There were handwritten notes that the guards had taken while questioning the witnesses. There was even a copy of the minutes from the previous night's school board meeting. Twilight quickly skimmed the documents as she flicked through them, but as she turned over a certain page, and she caught sight of the photograph that had been concealed beneath it, her eyes went wide, she gasped in horror, and nearly dropped the folder.

If Twilight had not known who the victim had been, she would never have guessed that the mare she saw lying on the doorstep of town hall was, in fact, Spoiled Rich, so shocking was her appearance. Spoiled was as naked as the day she was born, lying face-down, ass-up, every inch of her voluptuous, motherly body on display. Her long tail had been used as a rope to tie her hands behind her back. The twin images of a diamond ring that decorated the sides of her immense ass were covered with fading handprints, and a pearl necklace protruded from her tight little pucker like a string of anal beads. A pair of small, circular earrings had been squeezed onto her thick nipples, and a diamond ring rested on the tip of her sharply pointed muzzle. Her mane was a frazzled mess, and looked moist in some places, as did a large number of other spots scattered all over her coat. Her eyes were half-lidded, her sweaty skin was smeared with running mascara, and her tongue hung from her mouth in a puddle of drool. Finally, as if she had not been in a pathetic enough state already, somepony had scrawled obscene phrases all over her body using black marker. Among the words Twilight could decipher were "CUMSLUT", "ANAL WHORE", "BIMBO" and, stretched across Spoiled's wide ass cheeks, "SPOILED BITCH".

Not even in her naughtiest, dirtiest literature had Twilight ever beheld such an obscenely erotic display. So deeply did that image strike her that, for several moments, she could do nothing but stare slack-jawed and wide-eyed upon it. Her brain sputtered and spurted as it attempted to recover from the shock, and down below, hidden beneath her skirt and her wholesome, white panties, her little marehood began to grow moist.

"The milkmare left the scene to seek help upon discovering the victim," said the sergeant, a hint of anger in his voice, "but before the victim could be moved...the paparazzi had already arrived."

Twilight's shaky fingers slowly turned over the photograph, revealing a few more that lay beneath it, each one capturing Spoiled's bedraggled body from a different angle. There were close-up shots of Spoiled's ass, her face, and the plump, pink lips of her pussy, which were so thoroughly drenched that they glistened in the light of the camera flash. In some of those photos, she also saw the ripped and rumpled remains of what had presumably been Spoiled's clothing, which looked to have been unceremoniously tossed onto the ground near where she lay.

"The victim was transported to Ponyville General without incident," said the sergeant. "She was examined by the staff, but has been unconscious since her arrival, so we have been unable to question her yet regarding the incident."

Beneath the photographs lay a medical report, which Twilight hastily pored over. The report described Spoiled's condition in very clinical terms, although Twilight could tell that whoever had written it had struggled to maintain a professional tone while detailing the incredibly lewd situation. As the sergeant had said, Spoiled had apparently suffered no serious physical harm, other than having endured what must have been an intense spanking session and a pussy-pounding that would have reduced even the most experienced of mares to moaning messes. Most of the information contained in the report was stuff that Twilight had been able to glean from the photographs, although one tidbit she read made her take pause. Her eyes widened, and she slowly looked upon the photographs once more; specifically, she looked upon the moist spots on Spoiled's mane and coat, the nature of which had now been revealed to her.

Spoiled had been slathered from head to toe in copious amounts of marecum.

Beneath the medical report, Twilight saw a clipping from that morning's issue of the Ponyville Enquirer, an absolute rag of a newspaper that had popped up in the wake of the "Gabby Gums" fiasco, eagerly filling the sensationalist niche those misguided fillies had left empty. In a shameless act of yellow journalism, the Enquirer had given the previous night's incident the front page, complete with the close-up image of Spoiled's soiled face, and a headline that read: "BEWARE THE PONYVILLE PROWLER".

The Ponyville Prowler...

As she skimmed that offensive article, the writer of which clearly had only a tenuous respect for the truth, and absolutely no respect for Spoiled, Twilight's shock and horror at the whole situation gradually turned to righteous fury. While her anger was initially directed towards the Enquirer and its shameless writing staff, it quickly refocused on the one who had been responsible for that whole mess in the first place: the newly named Ponyville Prowler. All of those petty fears and doubts that had clouded her mind were finally burned away by the fires of her newfound determination. Twilight made a promise to herself right then and there that, no matter what it took, she would stop the villainous Prowler and ensure that that despicable pervert got exactly what was coming to them.

Twilight closed the evidence folder and looked up at the sergeant, her face now as firm and unwavering as that of any of his officers. "Do we have any suspects yet?" she asked.

"No," the sergeant replied. "We have put together a basic profile of the perpetrator, but given that they were not seen by any witnesses, it is unlikely that we will be able to identify any probable suspects until we can speak with the victim. The perpetrator is believed to be a pegasus, given what took place here. We have discovered no traces of recent magical disturbance here, making it extremely unlikely that the victim was teleported away."

Twilight nodded her agreement. Only a pegasus could have whipped up such a wind as had swept through that alley and carried off Spoiled, all without the use of magic.

"The perpetrator is also believed to be a mare," the sergeant continued, "based on the...biological evidence."

Twilight swallowed. "Right," she said. If spoiled had been molested by a stallion, then she probably would have a much different substance slathered all over her body.

"Given that they were able to fly while carrying the victim," said the sergeant, "the perpetrator is believed to posses at least average, if not above average, physical strength."

"That makes sense," said Twilight. Lugging around Spoiled and her considerable assets would have been a difficult enough task on foot, but in the air? Twilight reckoned that the perpetrator must have been a strong flier indeed to have pulled off something like that.

"They must be a local as well," Twilight continued. "Based on those...messages...the perpetrator clearly knew who Spoiled was, and...knew what she's like." While she had never referred to Spoiled, or anyone else for that matter, in such a rude manner, Twilight was well aware of the personality that had earned Spoiled the nickname that had been emblazoned on her backside.

The sergeant nodded in agreement. "We had suspected that as well," he said, "although your familiarity with the victim makes you more qualified to make that assessment than my officers."

Twilight took a moment to toss the facts around in her head, but came to no meaningful conclusions. Ponyville was a small town, but there were still over a hundred pegasus mares living there, many of whom would have been physically capable of molesting Spoiled in such a manner, although Twilight struggled to imagine any of the mares she knew committing such an unspeakable act. No, if they were ever going to find the culprit, then they needed more information, information that they would not get until Spoiled recovered from the molesting of a lifetime.

Twilight sighed. She tucked the evidence folder under her arm, then looked up at the sergeant. "Alright," she said, "I'm going to go review this evidence. I want you and your officers to continue your investigation, and let me know if you find anything significant. Also, let me know as soon as Spoiled is awake. I want to question her as soon as possible."

The sergeant stood up straight, and gave Twilight a nod. "Yes, ma'am," he said firmly.

The sergeant returned to his duties as Twilight left the crime scene, carrying the evidence under her arm, and a great weight on her shoulders. She recognized the difficulty of the task ahead of her, but at the same time, she knew in her heart that she would be able to handle it...with a little help. The assistance of the royal guard was certainly welcome, but there was one group of ponies that Twilight had come to depend on and trust even more. A determined smile appeared on her lips, and her pace quickened as she went off in search of her friends.