Chapters 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.
Fear and Moaning in Ponyville
The little town of Ponyville was known for many things, some more so than others. The town boasted a short, but rich history, which its older citizens were fond of recounting to their grandchildren, when they could get those fillies and colts to sit still and listen. The weekly farmer's market attracted buyers and sellers from miles around, and featured everything from juicy, red apples to hand-knitted quilts to fresh-baked pies and everything in between. The many shops that lined its quiet streets were small and humble, but bursting with character; where else could one find a shop that sold only quills and sofas?
One thing that Ponyville was not known for, however, was its night life. When the sun sank below the horizon every evening, settling in for a long, peaceful snooze, most of the town's residents quickly followed suit, slipping beneath their bed sheets, closing their tired eyes, and slipping off to dreamland. The little lanes and streets would fall quiet, and the windows of homes and shops would darken, one by one. Of course, as with all things, there were exceptions to this.
On an unremarkable little street, sandwiched between an unremarkable candy store and an unremarkable china shop, sat an unremarkable little pub, the windows of which were still brightly lit, unlike those of its neighbors. Also unlike its neighbors, that particular establishment, known to its patrons as "The Kissing Clams", was neither quiet nor still; the faint sounds of conversation and music could be heard emanating from within, and the occasional occupant walked past its brightly lit windows.
Yes, the Clams, as it was often called, was one of those few establishments in Ponyville which stayed open into the later hours of the evening, serving as a warm, friendly place to sip one's favorite beverage as the lovely moon loomed overhead. While the pub had never been the most popular in town, its close-knit community of regulars made up for its small size with dedicated and loving support for its favorite late-night meeting place. The mares who frequented that cozy little pub would often spend long hours eating, drinking, and gabbing together, filling the building with the sound of their laughter.
Of course, as much as they enjoyed each other's company, those mares were no party animals, and most would usually retire before the hour grew scandalously late. As such, it was long before midnight that the front door of the Clams was pushed open, and two of its last remaining customers stepped out onto the street.
The first one to cross the threshold was a young mare, only a few years into adulthood, although one could have been forgiven for not recognizing this, given the mature, motherly body she boasted. Acres upon acres of plush, off-white flesh covered her curvaceous legs, her wide, childbearing hips, and her ample chest. Much of that mass was due to a regular diet of sweets and candies, a necessary evil of her profession, although most of that weight had been strategically allocated to her huge, wobbling rear, her plump, pillowy thighs and to her immense, mouthwatering breasts, rather than to her soft tummy, a fact that she had mixed feelings about. That tantalizing mareflesh was concealed, at least partially, by a beautiful, form-fitting dress of sapphire-blue color that hung from her bare shoulders by a pair of spaghetti straps, and ran down almost to her knees. A pair of matching blue, wedge-heeled shoes covered her feet, and a tiny, almost decorative purse was slung over her shoulder. A long tail poked out of the tail-hole of her dress, its swirly locks colored pink and blue, like those of her cute, prettily styled mane. The face beneath those swirly bangs was wholesomely pretty, with big, blue eyes and a set of plush lips built for smiling and smooching, and bore a modest amount of makeup.
"'Night, Berry," said the mare, glancing back over her shoulder as she stepped through the door.
"'Night, Bon Bon," came the response from the pub's bartender.
The mare that stepped through the door just after the first was notably different in appearance, although no less alluring to behold. She was around the same age as the other, although her physique was much more typical of a young mare such as her, being thinner, but still quite voluptuous. Her long, feminine legs led up to a set of wide hips that gave her a picturesque hourglass figure, setting her apart from her pear-shaped companion. While she did not have quite as much meat on her bones, her belly being slim and trim, and her arms slender and nubile, she still boasted a pair of impressively large breasts, and a soft, round bottom that she could get a good jiggle out of when she wanted to. She, too, wore a sleeveless, form-fitting dress of similarly beautiful make, although hers lacked straps, showed off slightly more of her mint-green thighs, and was of a dull golden coloration. Matching wedge-heeled sandals covered her feet, and she clasped a small purse in one hand. The long tail that sprouted from her lower back was a slightly lighter green than her coat, and featured streaks of pristine white, matching her mane. The long, straight locks upon her head, despite normally being styled in a carefree, almost messy fashion, had been combed and brushed into a more appealing arrangement that night, showing off the long, spiraling horn that poked through her bangs. The face beneath that mane was not as overtly feminine as the rest of her, having a sort of impish, tomboyish quality to it, yet her golden-yellow eyes and her adorable, grinning lips would have been enough to win the heart of anyone who gazed upon them, even if her natural beauty had not been accentuated by a slight amount of makeup.
"'Night, Berry," said the second mare, taking a quick glance back inside.
"'Night, Lyra," replied the bartender, before the door closed between them.
The heat of the day had largely receded by that time, leaving the night air comfortably warm for the two mares. Still, Bon Bon shivered briefly as a sudden breeze blew past her, and she felt its cool caress running over her curves. The old, wooden sign hanging over the door creaked softly as the wind disturbed it, the noise drawing Bon Bon's gaze upwards. She looked upon the sign, seeing the familiar image of the two stylized clams sharing a loving smooch, then looked past it, up to where the moon hung high overhead, surrounded by a blanket of stars.
"What time is it?" said Bon Bon, a hint of concern in her voice.
"It's uh..." Lyra began, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "I dunno. Maybe ten? Eleven?"
Bon Bon grumbled softly. "We shouldn't have stayed out this late," she said. "We should have gone home earlier."
"What?" said Lyra casually, stepping up to Bon Bon. "And cut date night short? Why in Equestria would you wanna do that? You spent so long working on my mane, after all."
Bon Bon ignored the jab. Lyra cared little about her appearance, and would have gladly gone out and about with bed-head, had Bon Bon allowed her to. Bon Bon was especially stringent when it came to their regular date nights, the mare refusing to let her marefriend leave the house until every last hair in that uncooperative mane of hers had been wrangled into submission. The impatient Lyra hated having to sit still while her marefriend laboriously combed and brushed her mane for her, and would inevitably moan and groan about it like a child. Of course, the fact that Lyra went along with it anyway, allowing her marefriend to doll her up to her satisfaction, was not lost on Bon Bon. Lyra never admitted it, but Bon Bon could tell that she secretly enjoyed being prettified, especially if she thought it would make Bon Bon happy.
"You know why," said Bon Bon sternly. "I didn't want us to have to walk back home this late. Not with...you-know-who out there."
"Who-know-who?" said Lyra, her confusion clearly genuine.
Bon Bon rolled her eyes. Her marefriend's obliviousness was cute sometimes, but that time was not one of them. "You know...the Prowler ," said Bon Bon, speaking the name softly, as if she feared the one it belonged to might somehow hear it.
Lyra almost burst out laughing, but managed to stifle her giggling when she saw the deathly seriousness in her marefriend's eyes. "The Prowler?" she said. "Oh, come on, Bonny. You can't seriously be worried about that!"
"I am serious!" said Bon Bon, annoyed at her marefriend's casual attitude. "You heard what happened to Spoiled. What if...What if the Prowler is still out there? It's only been a few days, after all."
"Oh, that was a one-in-a-million thing," said Lyra. "Besides, you heard the mayor. The royal guard are on the case, and they're doing round-the-clock patrols while they investigate. There's nothin' to worry about! Heck, I bet the guards'll have that dirty mare-molester behind bars by tomorrow, and things'll all go back to normal."
Bon Bon sighed. "I sure hope so," she said, crossing her arms defensively.
Sensing her marefriend's concern, Lyra got in close to her and elbowed her playfully. "Hey, relax," she said. "I'm not about to let some lowlife pervert get at my marefriend. If the Prowler wants to get to you, they're gonna have to go through me." As she said this, she struck a pose, and flashed Bon Bon a heroic grin.
Bon Bon rolled her eyes at the protective declaration, which would have been more meaningful had it not been spoken by a mare who ran and cowered behind her marefriend if so much as a tiny spider made its way into their home. At the same time, she couldn't help but smile at the genuine care and love she knew lurked beneath that bravado. Her marefriend may have been a massive dork, but it still put her at ease to know that she would always have her back.
"Thanks, babe," said Bon Bon.
Lyra locked arms with Bon Bon. "Don't mention it, babe," she said, before leaning in and giving her marefriend's cheek a quick peck.
The two marefriends set off, walking side-by-side as they made their way back to their home on the other side of town. Bon Bon was visibly on edge as they weaved between the silent homes and shops around them, her eyes scanning every shadowy nook and cranny they passed. Her footsteps unconsciously quickened, but Lyra forced her to slow down and walk at a more leisurely pace, as if trying to physically force her to relax.
Lyra couldn't blame her marefriend for her concern. Despite her bravado, Lyra was also a bit fearful of the mysterious mare-molester that had so shamelessly violated one of Ponyville's most prominent mares just a few days earlier. Lyra had seen the papers, and she had heard the rumors, and while she recognized that much of what she had heard might have been exaggerated, that had not stopped her vivid imagination from running wild. Lewd and lurid scenes had often slipped into her mind over the past few days as the mare had envisioned herself as a victim of the one the papers had named "The Ponyville Prowler". The thought of some shadowy villain abducting her in the dead of night, spiriting her away, then proceeding to give her a molesting so intense that her grandfillies would feel it, sent a shiver down Lyra's spine and, though she never would have admitted it, made her little marehood quiver in excitement.
The fact that Lyra found the horrific scenario appealing in a primal, carnal sort of way made her feel more than a little bit ashamed. She knew she shouldn't be fantasizing about such perverted things, for more reasons than one. She had a marefriend, after all, one whom she loved, and with whom she had a healthy sexual relationship. There wasn't anything some unscrupulous villain could give her that her beautiful Bonny couldn't...right?
Lyra sighed internally as she was forced to recognize her own dishonesty. While she loved her marefriend more than anything else in the world, and loved being with her, Lyra still found herself feeling somewhat...dissatisfied in certain respects. The two had been going steady for a long time, and had long since begun sharing a bed together, but in that time, Lyra had become steadily more frustrated that her marefriend's cautious, level-headed demeanor extended to everything she did, including their bedroom activities. Bon Bon just loved taking things slow, moving at a glacial pace, and taking what felt like hours to tortuously tease Lyra, who didn't have the patience for such things. Just once, she wished her marefriend would let loose, pin her down, and give her the sort of rough, wild rutting that would make her scream loud enough to wake the neighbors.
As her mind indulged in that particular fantasy, Lyra's needy body soon responded, her heartbeat quickening, her thighs quivering, and her lower lips growing moist. Her eyes wandered over to the object of her affections, taking in Bon Bon's heavy breasts and her doughy ass, savoring the way her marefriend's flesh jiggled slightly with every step she took. Suddenly, an idea popped into Lyra's lustful head, an idea of how she could get her anxious marefriend's mind off of recent events.
Lyra gave Bon Bon a playful hip-bump. "Hey," she said.
Bon Bon looked over at her marefriend, seeing the bedroom eyes Lyra was giving her.
"The night's still young," Lyra continued, speaking in the most sensual tone she could muster. "How 'bout you and I head home, crack open the rocky road and...have ourselves a little...afterparty?" As she said this, she dipped a fingertip into the top of her dress and pulled it down slightly, exposing a tantalizing inch of the mint-green cleavage it had concealed.
Bon Bon knew her marefriend well. She knew perfectly well what Lyra was suggesting, and what's more, she knew the reason why she was suggesting it...both of the reasons, actually. Bon Bon's eyes quickly darted downwards, taking in Lyra's luscious legs and the big, perky teardrops that hung from her chest, and couldn't deny how sexy her dorky marefriend looked at that moment. Part of her would have loved to take Lyra home, tear the dress from her beautiful body, and spend the rest of the night enjoying every bit of it, and yet...
"Erm...not tonight, Lyra," said Bon Bon, looking away. "I...I have a bit of a headache."
It was a lie, and Bon Bon knew it. What's more, she knew that Lyra knew it too; Lyra wasn't that dense. She hated insulting her marefriend's intelligence like that, but she couldn't bring herself to share the real reason for her rejection.
"Okay, Bonny," said Lyra, and Bon Bon heard clearly the disappointment in her voice, but heard the patience and understanding as well.
The fact that Lyra was not angry with her for such a stupid dismissal only made Bon Bon feel more guilty, but she didn't know what else to do. She didn't want to tell her marefriend that the fears and worries that had clouded her mind over the past few days had not exactly left her in the mood, so to speak. The thought of the Prowler running free, lurking in the shadows, just waiting for a vulnerable mare such as herself to wander by...the thought made her quiver in fright. She had tried to force those thoughts from her mind, but had been unable to keep herself from imagining a pair of strong, lecherous hands seizing her, carrying her off, and having their way with her. It was only natural that she be too on edge to engage in such intimate activities as lovemaking. No self-respecting mare could get turned on while thinking about such things...at least, that's what she told herself.
The excited clenching of her marehood forced Bon Bon to recognize her true feelings, and her cheeks quickly reddened in shame. She had heard what had happened to Spoiled Rich, and while she knew better than to believe every whispered rumor she heard, there was no doubt that the Prowler had put her through the sexual wringer. Whatever the Prowler had done to Spoiled, they had done it long, they had done it hard, and they had done it to every inch of Spoiled's body. The thought of such a thorough mare-molesting repulsed the respectable Bon Bon, but it also lit a fire in her belly that she struggled to ignore.
Bon Bon hesitantly glanced back over at her marefriend. Lyra did not meet her gaze, but Bon Bon could still see the disappointment on her face, and see the frustration. Bon Bon loved her marefriend more than anything, and hated to see her unhappy, and yet, even after the two of them being together for so long, there still remained one aspect of their relationship that neither of them were wholly satisfied with. Bon Bon had fallen in love with Lyra's excitable, goofy personality, but was decidedly less enamored by her marefriend's sexual sophistication, or lack thereof, which she imagined was on par with that of an adolescent colt. If Bon Bon allowed Lyra to direct their lovemaking sessions, then they would consist of nothing more than a few minutes of furious, wild humping and grinding, promptly followed by Lyra passing out next to her, while Bon Bon tended to her own needs with her fingers. Just once, Bon Bon wished Lyra would take things slow, and spend hours pleasuring her needy body, giving every bit of her the attention it craved.
The two marefriends walked on in silence, both attempting to stifle their sexual frustrations, and to ignore the shameful fantasies that encroached upon their minds. So it was that, just a few minutes later, the two arrived at Sweetberry Park, a large park nestled within one of the residential areas of town. It was a beautiful park, and well-maintained, with fields of bright, green grass for running on, plentiful trees for sitting under, and little dirt paths for strolling along on a beautiful, sunny day. Lyra and Bon Bon's home sat just on the other end of the park from where they now stood, so the two mares would often visit it together, holding each other's hands as they walked those paths and took in the lovely scenery around them.
At night, however, it was a different story. At night, that pretty little park took on a much more sinister guise, one which made Lyra and Bon Bon shiver as they beheld it. Those grassy fields, devoid of laughing, playing children, seemed as still and lifeless as a graveyard. Those big, bushy trees, without the light of the sun to brighten them, appeared as tall, menacing figures, their branches like outstretched hands poised to grab at passersby. Those winding paths, which the mares knew like the backs of their hands, seemed to twist and tangle in the gloom, leading off to dark, secluded places they knew not. The mares paused as they beheld the altered landscape, hesitant to step into it, as if they feared they might not step out of it again.
Lyra was the first to recover. "Well, uh..." she began, clearing her throat. "A-Almost home!" She tried to sound cheerful, but did a poor job of hiding her trepidation.
"Yeah," said Bon Bon in a similar tone. "Almost home."
The two mares reflexively reached down and took each other's hands, squeezing tightly. While neither of them was particularly enthusiastic about making their way through the park, they both knew it had to be done. The only other way for the two to get home would have been to take a long, time-consuming detour around the park, and the two did not wish to delay their homecoming any longer than was necessary. The two kept this in their minds as they stepped onto the little path before them, the one that they knew would eventually lead them to their home on the other side. They could tolerate a few minutes of walking through that unnerving landscape if it meant getting home to their nice, warm bed, they told themselves. Unfortunately for them, it would be much more than a few minutes before the two would see their bed again.
The going was uneventful at first. Lyra and Bon Bon followed the path as it weaved through the fields and past sparsely arranged trees, moving at a brisk walk. They heard nothing except the soft crunching of dirt beneath their shoes, and the gentle whistling of the wind as it blew past them, lovingly caressing their beautiful bodies. They jumped once or twice at the rustling of a nearby bush and the snapping of a twig, before the pale moonlight revealed both to have been caused by the skittering of cute little squirrels making their way home to their respective nests. Gradually, the two grew acclimated to their surroundings, and slowly lowered their guard. They even managed to find enjoyment in the moonlit stroll, and the subtle romance of it, and unconsciously slowed their pace.
When the light of the moon was suddenly and completely cut off, however, and the world around them was plunged into darkness, the two mares stopped entirely.
"Woah!" Lyra exclaimed, so abruptly had the light been snuffed out.
The mares reflexively looked up, up at the starry sky overhead. It was difficult to make out, the stars providing such meager illumination, but the two were still able to see what looked like the outline of a big, fat, fluffy cloud that had, presumably, just floated over their heads, completely obscuring the moon. If they had taken the time to consider it, they might have wondered where such a cloud had come from on such a clear night as that one, but the two had more pressing matters to think about at that moment.
"Darn it!" muttered Bon Bon. "Can you see anything?"
"Um...not really," said Lyra, holding out her hands before her like a blind mare as she tentatively stepped forward.
"Careful!" said Bon Bon. "Don't trip!"
Bon Bon could barely make out the shadowy form of her marefriend standing beside her, but she could hear her cautious footsteps well enough. She had similar difficulty making out the trees and the bushes around them, those dark, shapeless forms appearing much more dreadful than they had a moment earlier. She gulped, and felt a shiver run up her spine as her earlier fears quickly returned to her.
"Wait!" said Bon Bon, taking a tentative step forward. "Don't leave me!"
Lyra smirked at the notion, the darkness obscuring her grin. "Relax, babe," she said. "I'm not gonna—"
Lyra suddenly fell silent as she felt a hand reach out and grab a hold of one of her soft, round ass cheeks, giving it a salacious squeeze. She quivered reflexively at the touch, but her surprise quickly gave way to playful delight, and a naughty grin stretched across her face.
"Oh...babe," said Lyra, chuckling softly. "I guess somepony changed their mind about the afterparty, didn't they?"
"What?" said Bon Bon. "What do you mean?"
Lyra chuckled at her marefriend's coyness. "Oh, Bonny," she said. "You know you don't have to be shy with me." As she said this, she gave her ass a playful wiggle, encouraging her marefriend to help herself to her body. The hand on her ass eagerly responded, sinking its fingers deep into Lyra's plush assflesh.
"Lyra," said Bon Bon, "what in Equestria are you—?"
Bon Bon's words were cut off by a startled gasp as she suddenly felt a hand seize one of her great, jiggling ass cheeks, shamelessly groping her doughy dumptruck. When she realized what was happening, the shock on Bon Bon's face was quickly replaced by profound annoyance.
"Lyra," said Bon Bon flatly, "I told you I'm not in the mood."
"Huh?" said Lyra, confused by her marefriend's mixed signals. "Well, why are you playing with my butt then?"
"Me?" said Bon Bon. "Why are you playing with my butt?"
A moment of silence passed.
"Lyra...turn on your light," said Bon Bon.
Suddenly remembering the presence of the horn atop her head, Lyra summoned her unicorn magic, channeling it through that arcane appendage as easily as one might snap their fingers. The thick gloom surrounding the mares was suddenly pushed back as Lyra's horn lit up, glowing with a soft, ethereal light as bright as a warm, friendly candle. The light was not particularly strong, but it was enough to let the two marefriends see each other...and for each to see the other's hands hanging at their sides. The light also allowed them to see the two hands still groping their asses, and to follow the arms attached to those hands up to the figure floating in midair right behind them.
"Boo!" said the Ponyville Prowler.
Lyra's and Bon Bon's brains seemed to skip, like a record on a turntable. One instant, they were standing there, frozen in horror, staring wide-eyed into the grinning face before them. The very next instant, the two were sprinting down the path, squealing and screaming in terror. Lyra was in front, running as fast as her fashionable, albeit impractical shoes would allow, pulling Bon Bon along by her wrist as the two attempted to put as much distance as possible between themselves and the one behind them. They didn't dare look back, but the two could hear the sound of a villainous chuckle through their wailing, which never seemed to get any further away, no matter how fast they ran.
Time seemed to crawl to a standstill. The frenzied marefriends felt as if they were trapped in some nightmare, running at top speed to escape some threat, and yet not moving an inch. In reality, they were moving quite rapidly, and had soon escaped from beneath the shadow of the cloud overhead into the relative brightness of the moonlight. Of course, being able to see the one sailing through the air behind them, easily keeping pace with them, did little to help their emotional state.
Suddenly, the fleeing mares saw a blur of movement, and realized an instant later that the Prowler was no longer behind them, but in front, hovering in place a short distance away. Lyra and Bon Bon squealed together, and they stopped short, struggling to redirect their significant momentum. The mares managed to stop before colliding with the Prowler, but before they could turn and bolt back the way they came, the Prowler casually reached out and pulled down both of their dresses, revealing two pairs of big, bouncy breasts topped by delectable little nipples. Their sudden exposure barely registered in the mares' minds, however, as they were already running back down the path, their jugs jostling two and fro as they went.
This perverted game of cat-and-mouse continued for the next minute or two, although in Lyra's and Bon Bon's frantic minds, it went on for hours. The mares continued to run their little hearts out in a vain attempt to escape their pursuer, releasing a steady stream of screams, wails, cries, and incoherent babbling all the while. The Prowler, as far as they could tell, seemed to be everywhere at once, appearing out of thin air above them, before them, behind them, and to either side, always one step ahead of them. The Prowler herded the two mares to and fro through the park in this fashion, scaring them off in one direction or another, grinning and laughing all the while.
The Prowler did more than just hover menacingly over them, however. Every few seconds or so, that vile villain would swoop in towards the poor marefriends and lay their lecherous hands upon the mares' soft, vulnerable bodies. Both Lyra and Bon Bon felt the Prowler's fingers upon their ample busts more times than they could count, squishing and squeezing their tantalizing titmeat and pinching their sensitive nipples. The bottoms of their dresses were pulled up, leaving both of their delightful derrieres open to the Prowler's many spanks and pinches. Their long, beautiful tails were playfully tugged. Their heads were grabbed and their lips forced into invasive kisses with their assailant. The Prowler molested them shamelessly and brazenly, taking whatever they wanted whenever they wanted, and yet would invariably let them go again, giving the panicked marefriends the illusion that they could actually escape, if only they ran just a little bit faster.
This erotic escapade eventually came to a close while Lyra and Bon Bon were running across a grassy field, spurred on by a pair of swats that had just been delivered to their increasingly sore tushies. A storm of panic, fear, and shame raged in Lyra's mind, but that did not prevent her from seeing her and Bon Bon's home on the edge of the park, far in the distance. A spark of hope flared up in her mind, one that promised safety and security for her and her marefriend, if only they could make it back to their home. Acting purely on instinct, Lyra suddenly veered to the side, making for home, still dragging Bon Bon along with her. The sudden course correction proved too much for Lyra's exhausted legs and clunky heels, however, and, with a yelp of surprise, the mare stumbled and fell to the ground, landing harmlessly on her back. Lyra had a fraction of a second to process this before Bon Bon, whom she had inadvertently dragged down with her, fell on top of her, the mare's mammoth mammaries coming to rest upon Lyra's face, easily engulfing her head.
Lyra and Bon Bon lay like that for a few moments. Both mares' heads were still buzzing with fear, and their veins still full of adrenline, urging them to flee, and yet they could not do so. The poor mares had run themselves ragged trying to escape the Prowler, and now found themselves simply too exhausted to haul themselves up off of the ground. Their legs were jelly, their lungs were burning, and their little hearts felt as if they were about to burst from their chests. The mares panted like dogs on a hot summer day as they drank in air to cool their aching muscles. More accurately, Bon Bon panted; Lyra was having a bit of difficulty doing so, due to the ocean of soft, warm breastflesh smothering her face, a fact that Lyra quickly communicated through her muffled exclamations of distress. Despite the haze clouding her mind, Bon Bon recognized her marefriend's predicament, and managed to push herself backwards enough for Lyra to poke her head out from between her cleavage and take several heavy gasping breaths of air.
The sound of a soft chuckle reached the mares' ears, followed by the mocking tones of a raspy voice. "Get a room, you two!" the voice said.
The two mares gasped, and Bon Bon saw Lyra look over her shoulder, staring wide-eyed at something behind her. Bon Bon instinctively tried to push herself up off of the ground, but before she could manage to shift her significant weight, she felt a foot being placed upon her back. The foot pressed firmly against her, forcing her back down, and squishing her breasts over Lyra's mouth, leaving only the mare's twitching snoot and her panicked eyes exposed.
"Well...looks like I win!" came the raspy voice.
Still breathing heavily, Bon Bon turned her head and looked back over her shoulder. The Prowler stood over her, a triumphant smile on their lips, and one leg planted on her back, like some kind of conqueror.
"As much as I'd love to give you girls another chance," said the Prowler, raising an arm and glancing at a wristwatch wrapped around it, "I...think it's about time we get going."
Bon Bon had just enough time to realize what was meant by that before the Prowler removed their foot from her back, then reached down and grabbed her arms at the wrists, pulling them back behind her. Bon Bon whimpered in protest and squirmed weakly as the Prowler quickly grabbed her tail and used it to bind her wrists together, but was powerless to prevent her subjugation. With one final tug, the Prowler finished their knot, then reached up and rolled Bon Bon off of Lyra and onto her back beside her.
Lyra gasped in air as her mouth was once again uncovered, but she did not have long to recover before the Prowler was on her. Lyra groaned in exhaustion and fear as the Prowler rolled her onto her belly, then proceeded to bind her in the same humiliating fashion as Bon Bon had been.
"No!" said Lyra weakly. "Stop!" She squirmed in resistance, but she did not have enough strength in her weary body to overcome the Prowler's strong grip.
"Don't do this!" said Bon Bon in an equally weary voice. "Just...Just let us go!"
The Prowler finished binding Lyra, then rolled her onto her back, right next to her marefriend.
"Please!" said Lyra.
The word had hardly left Lyra's mouth before the Prowler reached out towards them, and the two marefriends suddenly felt something soft and bulky shoved into their mouths, muffling their pleas. The mares grunted in protest, and then in disgust as the taste of the sweaty gym socks reached their tongues.
"Hey, it was fun hearing you two squeal back there, but...I need you both to be quiet now," the Prowler said casually.
Lyra and Bon Bon did not willingly comply, letting out a stream of muffled, unintelligible exclamations as they wriggled upon the grass. The Prowler stood up again, taking a moment to savor the sight of the two half-naked mares bound and gagged before her. It was as the Prowler ogled Lyra and Bon Bon that they got their first good look at the two pairs of moist panties concealing the marefriends' plump little marehoods. The pair worn by Bon Bon was decorated with alternating stripes of mint green and white, while the pair worn by Lyra was off-white with pink and blue polka dots. The Prowler's smile widened as they recognized the significance of the designs.
"Aww...how cute," the Prowler said, as if they were looking upon a pair of pussies of a different kind.
Lyra and Bon Bon followed the Prowler's gaze down between their legs. Immediately, the two clamped their thighs together to preserve what little remained of their dignity, then looked away, their cheeks reddening in shame.
"Oh, don't be like that, girls," said the Prowler, leaning down and grabbing the mares' chins, forcibly turning their heads back towards them. "After all, the three of us are gonna get to know each other really well tonight."
Lyra and Bon Bon's eyes went wide, and they resumed their frantic wriggling and grunting. The Prowler merely chuckled as they put their strong arms around the mares and, with a grunt of exertion, pulled them up off of the ground. The marefriends gasped in shock as the Prowler unceremoniously threw them over their shoulders, as if they were no more than sacks of potatoes. The Prowler carefully rose to their feet, wobbling a bit under the non-insignificant weight of the two voluptuous mares, but managed to keep their balance. The mares settled into place atop the Prowler's shoulders, their upper halves hanging back behind the Prowler, their legs dangling down in front, securely held by the Prowler's powerful arms, and their asses resting upon the Prowler's shoulders, to either side of their head.
"Ah! There we go!" said the Prowler with satisfaction. "You girls ready?"
Lyra and Bon Bon squirmed wildly, kicking their feet and grunting through their gags. The Prowler merely chuckled at this as they spread the two large, feathered wings that sprouted from their back, pausing a moment for dramatic effect, then sent them both hurtling downwards in a powerful flap. Two muffled screams of terror could be heard as the three ponies rocketed up into the air, screams which quickly faded into the silence of night.
Thirty-seven seconds later, a royal guard casually emerged from a small patch of trees nearby, following a walking path that led across the grassy field before him. A short time later, he passed the spot where Lyra and Bon Bon had lain a minute earlier and, seeing nothing amiss, continued on his way, wondering to himself why he always seemed to get assigned the boring patrol routes.
The rhythmic sound of footsteps filled the Golden Oak Library as Twilight Sparkle paced back and forth across the wooden floor of her study. Her hands were clasped behind her back, her fingers fidgeting and rubbing together as she walked. Her frumpled tail twitched, and her floppy, equine ears flicked back and forth, reflexively searching for whatever threat was causing their owner such anxiety. Her usually immaculate ensemble was slightly disheveled, her wrinkled shirt untucked, and a dried coffee stain upon her sweater vest. Her lovely mane was unkempt, and she sported heavy bags under her eyes. Despite all this, however, the mare had a focused, detemined look upon her face, one which clearly telegraphed the gears turning inside her head.
Every minute or so, Twilight would pause, turning to face one of the walls of the study. That wall featured rows upon rows of bookshelves carved directly into the wood of the tree itself, every one of those shelves filled with books big and small, old and new, read and re-read. Despite this, Twilight did not have books on her mind at that time, a rare occurrence for the little bookworm. Rather, the entirety of Twilight's attention was focused on the large evidence board that had been hung in front of those bookshelves, and on the horrific story laid out upon it.
Dozens of photographs of varying quality, subject, and lewdness had been pinned to the board. There were newspaper clippings from various outlets as well, many of which had had certain key phrases or passages highlighted or circled with marker. Other miscellaneous objects and articles filled in the gaps, such as handwritten notes, medical reports, and complicated scientific charts that would have made the eyes of most ponies glaze over to look upon. Weaving throughout all of this was a tangled web of red string, darting to and fro, up and down, connecting the various pinned articles in ways that made sense only to the obsessive little unicorn that gazed upon them.
After staring at that board for a few moments, her face scrunching slightly in frustrated contemplation, Twilight would grumble softly, then turn away, resuming her walk.
"C'mon, Twilight," Twilight muttered to herself after one of these cycles. "Think!"
It had been almost two weeks since the Ponyville Prowler had descended upon that peaceful little town. Two weeks, and yet, in all that time, Twilight had not gotten much closer to catching the vile pervert who had, time and time again, viciously molested the innocent mares of Ponyville. While the intellectual mare was used to being confronted with challenging puzzles and complicated questions, the issue of the Prowler had proven to be a particularly stressful matter for her, both due to her infuriating lack of success, and to the obscene nature of the events that had transpired.
Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Twilight breathed a heavy sigh and forced herself to concentrate, before going over the facts in her head, vainly hoping that another iteration might reveal some key detail she had missed.
The first victim had been Spoiled Rich, the mare having been cornered, abducted, and then ruthlessly and thoroughly molested one fateful evening, before being unceremoniously deposited upon the steps of city hall the next morning, covered in marecum and degrading body-writing. At the time, Twilight had thought that such humiliating treatment had been personally motivated, perhaps indicative of some significant resentment the Prowler felt towards the snooty, arrogant socialite. As Twilight later realized, however, that was just how the Prowler liked to do things.
A few nights later, local lesbians Lyra and Bon Bon had been attacked as well. They, too, had been ambushed by the Prowler while walking through Ponyville late at night, before being whisked away to a molesting just as intense as the one Spoiled had experienced. The two had been found together on a park bench the next morning, their naked, limp, soiled bodies left in a crude sixty-nine position, with their tattered clothing strewn abound them. Twilight had a photo of them up on her wall, one which the pests from the Ponyville Enquirer had managed to obtain before the mares could be removed from the scene. Twilight still shuddered to look upon them like that, their hair messy and damp, their faces weary and cum-drunk, and their voluptuous bodies scrawled with phrases such as "DIRTY DYKES", "LUSTY LEZZIES", "CARPET MUNCHERS", and other such lewd messages making reference to the mares' sapphic proclivities.
The next victim had been Carrot Top, the farmmare having been snatched from her own farm just outside of Ponyville. The mare had ventured out into her fields one night to investigate what she had thought might have been a raccoon or some other animal trying to steal her carrots, only to find something much more menacing than a mere woodland critter waiting for her. Carrot had been left at her stall in the middle of the town marketplace in an equally bedraggled state as the others, with the notable exception of the three long, thick carrots that had been shoved into her tight little asshole, her sopping-wet marehood, and her cum-slathered mouth, respectively. The shameful scrawl that had marred her beautiful coat had included such provocative messages as "PLOW MY FIELDS", "SEED COLLECTOR", and, dispensing with the euphemisms, "FERTILE".
The repeated mare-molestings had, predictably, incited fear and panic amongst the ponies of Ponyville, so much so that Mayor Mare, just a couple days earlier, had felt the need to make a public statement about the matter. The mayor had spoken at length about the ongoing investigation, assuring her constituents that the royal guard had everything under control, and that the streets were still perfectly safe. In a textbook example of hubris, the mayor had even gone so far as to speak directly to the Prowler, saying that they didn't even need to come and confess, because the guard were looking for them and would find them swiftly. Apparently, the mayor had believed her own words, as she had felt confident enough to walk home from the office alone that night, despite receiving many warnings against doing so. She had been found the next morning, the well-molested mare having been tied to the big flag pole that stood in the center of town. The mayor's gray mane had shown spots of pink where the hair dye had been washed away by a thorough cum-drenching, and her coat had borne such messages as "MAYOR OF SLUTVILLE", "RE-ELECT MAYOR CUMSLUT", and "DEPOSIT BALLOTS HERE", this last one accompanied by an arrow pointing towards the mayor's dripping marehood.
Twilight looked upon these shocking images where they had been pinned on her evidence board, her expression a mixture of disgust and a certain other emotion that she refused to acknowledge. Her body, however, was much more honest about what it was feeling as she pored over those photos, taking in every succulent inch of the mares' violated bodies. The molestings played themselves out in her head, informed by the photos and by the descriptions that she had obtained from the victims. Twilight could practically hear the mares' squeals and moans in her ears, and feel the Prowler's lecherous hand upon her own quivering body. She was woken from her lustful daydream by a shiver that suddenly ran up her spine, and she realized that that imaginary hand was actually her own hand, which had, of its own accord, wandered down between her legs and stroked the moistening lips of her marehood through her clothes. She quickly returned the hand to her side and un-bit her lip, before resuming her contemplation.
As part of her investigation, Twilight had, of course, interviewed each of the Prowler's victims about their experiences. Contrary to her expectations, the molested mares had been quite willing to speak about their traumatic experiences, and had provided Twilight with oddly extensive and detailed descriptions. Twilight had written down every lewd and lurid detail, (for science, of course,) and, after taking the time to thoroughly analyze those details, she had been able to draw some basic conclusions.
The Prowler, it seemed, was remarkably consistent in how they operated. All of the molested mares had been attacked late at night, when they were alone and vulnerable. All of the mares had reported being teased and tormented by the Prowler, verbally and physically, before finally being abducted. All of the mares had been bound, gagged, and then carried off into the air, flown through the sky to some sort of hideaway the Prowler apparently had inside a big cloud. Once there, the Prowler had proceeded to molest the poor mares for hours on end, subjecting them to all manner of humiliating and degrading sexual torments, some of which Twilight had never even heard of. The mares' recollections had been hazy towards the end, with some having passed out entirely, but presumably, the Prowler had eventually returned each freshly fucked mare to the ground, physically unharmed, barring their sore tushies, which the Prowler seemed fond of spanking. While the mares' clothing had almost universally been damaged during the course of their molestings, none of their possessions had been stolen, with the notable exception of the mares' panties, which the Prowler had presumably kept for themselves.
While Twilight had learned more than she really needed to know about the crimes themselves, the perpetrator of them remained shrouded in mystery. She had learned some basic details about the Prowler from their victims, although these had not helped her much in identifying potential suspects. The Prowler was a pegasus mare; that much was plainly obvious. She seemed to be young, and to posses significant physical strength and stamina, enough to easily overpower and molest her victims for extended periods of time. The Prowler's victims had spoken at great length about her lithe, toned body, about her well-defined abs and her tight, muscular butt, and about her small, perky breasts. When that impressive physique had been covered by clothing, it had supposedly been adorned in a simple black sports bra, spandex shorts, and running shoes.
The victims' testimonies had been more divided when it came to certain other details, such as the color of the Prowler's coat, which had been described as something like blue or gray, although Twilight attributed this discrepancy to the darkness of night impeding the victims' vision. More curious, however, were the descriptions of the Prowler's long mane and tail; one of the victims had said they had been red, another green, while another had recalled seeing purple, a discrepancy that Twilight had no good explanation for. As for her face, the Prowler had apparently concealed her identity behind a cliche black bandit mask, which had prevented any of her victims from recognizing her. Her cutie mark had been similarly concealed, the identifying marks on either side of her ass having been hidden beneath strips of tape. Without those clear identifiers to aid her, Twilight had been unable to narrow down the list of potential suspects to a workable level, there being many young, athletic pegasus mares living in Ponyville.
Perhaps more useful than the descriptions of the Prowler's appearance were those of her behavior. Twilight did not claim to be an expert on the psychology of mare-molesters, or of criminals in general, but she had read several books on the subject in the past, and had pored through many more over the past several days, many of which were still piled up around her study. Based on her studies, and on the actions of the Prowler, Twilight had concluded that, whoever they were, the Prowler seemingly enjoyed asserting her dominance over other ponies through her physical and emotional torments. The Prowler loved to "win"; she loved demonstrating how much faster and stronger she was than her victims, and loved savoring and bragging about her conquests, hence the degrading public displays she loved to make of her victims, and the stolen panties that Twilight imagined were probably hanging on the Prowler's trophy wall by that point. The fact that the Prowler had continued to do this, despite clearly knowing that the royal guard were present, suggested extreme cockiness, arrogance even, as if she thought she was completely and utterly untouchable.
Cocky...arrogant...loves to win...loves to show off...
Twilight was deep in thought, tossing these words around in her head, when, on the floor below, the door of the library was opened, and the oaken walls were filled with the sounds of footsteps and of familiar voices. Twilight did not register this, however, not even when, shortly afterwards, those footsteps made their way up the stairs to Twilight's study, and those friendly voices called her name.
"Mornin', Twilight!" said Applejack, her distinctive rural twang as endearing as ever. The mare strode into the study, her thick, muscular legs covered in tight denim and her feet in tall boots, as usual. Her similarly muscled rear flexed with every step she took, and her wide, motherly hips swayed slightly. A worn, buttoned shirt covered her toned tummy and her ample breasts, which were big enough to have fed a whole litter of foals. Her long, straw-yellow mane and tail were tied off, as usual, and her signature hat sat comfortably atop her head. She had a friendly smile upon her orange, freckled face, and carried before her a cup-and-saucer filled with steaming-hot tea.
"Good morning, darling," said Rarity, the refined, melodious tones of her voice as easy on the ears as the rest of her was on the eyes. Her picturesque hourglass figure was adorned in a fashionable yet mysterious ensemble reminiscent of that worn by her favorite fictional detective, complete with a dull red coat that hugged her feminine curves and a wide-brimmed hat that sat atop her coiffed, purple mane. She stepped into the study behind Applejack, her shapely legs covered in nothing but black pantyhose and gorgeous red heels beneath her knee-length skirt. Her long, swirly tail swished in excitement, and she bore a confident grin upon her sculpted, alabaster face.
"Hi, Twilight!" sounded out Pinkie Pie, her bubbly, energetic voice unmistakable. The mare bounded into the study behind Rarity, moving with a characteristic spring in her step that made her plump, pink body jiggle like gelatin. Her thick, curvaceous legs were squeezed into a pair of thigh-high socks decorated with stripes of yellow and blue, and she wore a pair of bubblegum-pink sneakers. The floppy miniskirt wrapped around her wrecking-ball hips was also pink, and stretched down just far enough to conceal the two mountainous ass cheeks she boasted. A tight, white t-shirt bearing the words "PARTY ANIMAL" covered her torso down to her belly button, stretched to its limits by the pair of immense breasts they concealed. Her tail and mane were as pink and poofy as ever, although the latter bore an unusual feature in the form of a plain-looking deerstalker cap that rested atop it, which clashed with the rest of her cheerful getup. Another abnormal feature of her appearance was the bubble-pipe she held between her grinning lips, although the perpetually happy look upon her face suggested that she saw nothing out of place about it.
"Hey," came the weary, raspy croak of the fourth and final mare who entered into the study. Unlike the other mares, her feet, clad in old, worn running shoes and gym socks, hovered slightly above the floor as she floated in, held aloft by the lazy flaps of the feathered wings upon her back. Her lithe, toned body was impressive to behold, or would have been, had the baggy, gray hoodie she wore not concealed her well-defined abs and her small, perky breasts. Still, her runner's shorts emphasized her slender legs and her tight, muscular buns, which sat just beneath her long, rainbow-colored tail. The long mane atop her head was equally colorful, although the face beneath it was not nearly as cheerful to look upon. Her subtle, tomboyish features, while normally quite cute, were marred by clear weariness, with heavy bags under her half-lidded eyes and a grumpy scowl upon her lips. As she made her way to a nearby chair and plopped herself down into it, she raised the cup of strong coffee she carried to those lips and took a sip.
Applejack took a quick glance over her shoulder at the last of her companions, rolling her eyes. "C'mon, Rainbow Dash!" she said. "Drink your coffee and get in gear. Twi's gonna need all of us to be at our best if we're gonna nab this varmint!"
Rainbow Dash gave a grunt of acknowledgment, and took another sip of her coffee.
Applejack approached Twilight, who was once again staring up at her evidence board, seemingly oblivious to the sudden arrival of her friends. "'Nother all-nighter?" she said softly, noticing Twilight's exhausted appearance. Without waiting for a response, Applejack carefully placed the tea saucer into one of Twilight's hands, and wrapped Twilight's other hand around the cup. Twilight reflexively raised the cup to her lips, taking a long, slow draft.
Tea. Earl Grey. Hot.
Twilight's hyper-focused mind reflexively analyzed the drink as it touched her tongue, but as it slipped down her throat, and she felt its soothing warmth fill her up from the inside, melting her concentration, she returned to a more natural mental state. She let out a sigh as she lowered her cup, and closed her tired eyes, giving them a brief respite from the board. "Yeah," she said.
"Twilight," said Rarity in a concerned tone, "you mustn't do that. You're not going to catch the Prowler if you're half-asleep." She stepped up behind Twilight and placed her hands on Twilight's shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze.
Twilight was tempted to retort that she hadn't managed to catch the Prowler even with a full night's sleep, but she held her tongue.
"Yeah! You need your sleep, Twilight!" said Pinkie Pie, bounding up to the others. "You should see me when I don't get a good night's sleep! I'm always so tired and grumpy the next day that I'm no help to anyone!" As she said this, the hyperactive mare bounced in place slightly, making her boobs and her big bubble-butt wobble enticingly.
"We'll...take your word for it," said Rarity with a smile, having difficulty recalling a time she had seen the bubbly mare either tired or grumpy.
Applejack chuckled. "Yeah, Twilight," she said, "you don't want to end up like ol' lazy-feathers over there!" As she said this, she inclined her head towards where Rainbow Dash sat.
"Hey!" exclaimed Rainbow Dash annoyedly.
"I know, I know," said Applejack, waving her hand dismissively. "Wonderbolts training." She looked back to Twilight. "In any case, we're all here now, so you don't gotta tackle this alone."
"Indeed," said Rarity, stepping back and striking a pose. "Once again, the fabulous Shadow Spade is at your service, ready and willing to help you apprehend this wrongdoer."
"And so is Detective Pinkie Pie!" said Pinkie Pie, taking hold of her pipe and blowing a few bubbles for emphasis.
"Spike says he'll have your breakfast ready in two shakes," said Applejack, "so until then, why don't you tell us what the plan is for today?"
Twilight took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She opened her eyes, then turned and looked upon her friends. The sight of those familiar faces before her, full of energy and determination (for the most part), almost brought a smile to her lips...almost.
Twilight loved her friends more than anything else in the world, and she was incredibly grateful to have them by her side during that trying time. That being said, her friends' support, while enthusiastic, had not proven particularly...helpful. Those mares had helped Twilight face down magical, world-conquering villains time and time again, their incredible bravery and devotion earning them their heroic statuses many times over, but when it came to something as relatively mundane as investigating a mare-molesting...well...frankly...they sucked.
Applejack had spent the past several days kicking down doors, yelling at potential suspects, and generally acting like some loose-cannon cop straight out of a movie, behavior which was not nearly as productive in real life as it was on the silver screen. Despite sporting the clothing of Shadow Spade, Rarity had not inherited the fictional crime-stopper's investigative prowess, largely due to her area of expertise not being particularly useful in investigating crimes that involved a distinct lack of clothing. Fluttershy had been holed up in her cottage since day one, too afraid of the Prowler to step foot outside, and the others had not tried to rope her into the investigation, wanting to spare the delicate mare from the obscene, perverse events it concerned. Rainbow Dash, having been recently accepted into the Wonderbolt Academy, had been kept quite busy with her training, leaving her too exhausted to help much even on her free days. And then there was Pinkie Pie who...was Pinkie Pie.
Twilight's gaze fell to the floor, and she took another sip of her tea as her friends patiently awaited her response. In truth, Twilight didn't know what they were going to do that day, and she was loathe to admit it. She had been so confident and focused when the investigation had begun, and had easily been able to come up with plan after plan to catch the Prowler, but as the days had gone by, and each and every one of those plans had failed, one by one, both her confidence and her focus had suffered.
Twilight took a quick glance around the room, looking upon the remains of all of the many plans and schemes she and her friends had worked through. Charts and checklists were pinned to the walls in various places, those that had not been crumpled up and tossed into the overflowing wastepaper basket, that is. Small towers of recently consulted books rose from the floor around her, the subjects of those tomes ranging from criminology to cooking and everything in between. There was even a map of Ponyville which showed the meticulously organized patrol schedule she had devised for the royal guard, one which specified to the minute where each guard would be, and one which would not have left an inch of Ponyville unseen for more than a few minutes at a time. All of that planning had been in vain, however, as not a single plan had allowed them to figure out the Prowler's identity, or even to catch them in the act, something that should have been trivial, given the very public nature of the crimes being committed. No matter what the investigators tried, however, the Prowler always seemed to be one step ahead of them, as if she knew their plans before they could even put them into effect.
Twilight sighed again, forcing herself to focus. It would do her no good to give in to despair and panic; she had had more than enough characteristic freak-outs over the past several days as it was. Still, the rising tension of the situation weighed heavily on her mind, and she knew that she had reached a critical point. Ponyville had become a powder keg, its citizens so tense and paranoid that she feared another incident might cause them to explode, perhaps forming an angry mob to punish whoever they suspected of being the Prowler, or those who had failed to protect them from her. The guards were well aware of this, and while they had not said it openly, Twilight knew that they were questioning her ability to lead them. Twilight imagined that Princess Celestia, too, was growing uneasy. She had tried to present her lack of progress in as flattering a manner as possible in the status updates she had been sending to the princess, but she knew the princess was capable of reading between the lines. While Twilight had heard nothing back from her, neither admonishment nor anger, that silence was terrible in its own way, and Twilight couldn't help but fear what was going through her beloved teacher's mind as she witnessed her favorite student's repeated failures.
Twilight looked back to her friends, taking their confident expressions as motivation. She knew then what she had to do. It was the only thing she could do, the only thing that would be certain to put her face-to-face with the one she sought. In the well-organized file cabinet that was her mind, she opened up the drawer all the way, and reached for the very last file it contained. Twilight's backup-backup-backup-backup-backup-backup-backup-backup-backup-backup plan was one she had considered early on in the investigation, but had refused to go through with, knowing how dangerous it would be for the one who would have to carry it out. She was out of options, however, and knew that she had no other choice but to put the plan into action.
"I do have a plan," said Twilight, stepping over to a nearby table and setting down her tea upon it. "It's not an ideal plan, but...it's all I have left."
"Well...let's hear it then!" said Applejack, trying to maintain an upbeat attitude, despite sensing her friend's concerns. "I reckon it'll be a darn good one, if you've been holdin' onto it for this long...a regular ace up your sleeve!"
"Alright," said Twilight, her voice growing sharp and determined as she shifted into planning mode. "Pay attention everypony, because I'm going to need all of your help...especially yours, Rarity."
Rarity was momentarily taken aback at being singled out so. "Well...of course, Twilight," she said. "I'll gladly assist however I can, but...what exactly is it that you plan to do?"
A small grin snuck its way onto Twilight's lips, and a devious gleam filled her eyes. "It's not what I'm going to do," she said, taking up her quill and parchment, "it's what Ersatz Quarry is going to do."
A confused look appeared on Pinkie Pie's face. She knew pretty much every pony in Ponyville, and she had never heard of any "Ersatz Quarry" before. "Umm...who's Ersatz Quarry?" she asked.
Twilight managed a soft chuckle, understanding Pinkie's confusion. "You'll see," she said cryptically, before proceeding to outline her plan.
The Hunter Becomes the Hunted
Silence hung over the moonlit streets of Ponyville. The many homes and shops that lined those quaint little avenues were dark and quiet, every last one, its fearful citizens too busy cowering under their blankets to enjoy the beautiful night. No nighttime birds sailed through that still air, and no crickets chirped their soothing songs. Even the gentle summer wind seemed to be holding its breath, lest it disturb that almost unnerving peace.
So it was that, as the little mare named Ersatz Quarry walked down those silent, empty streets, the only sounds she heard were the soft crunch of dirt beneath her feet, and the booming thumps of her own heart.
Her feet, decorated with nail polish of a bright, almost garish pink, and squeezed into open-toed heels of the same color, trod upon the ground at a casual, almost carefree pace, as if she were in no hurry to get where she was going. Her slender, girlish legs were bare, and led up to a set of hips that, while not particularly wide, swayed slowly and sensually as she walked, a sight alluring enough to have ignited the passions of any red-blooded stallion. Clinging tightly to those hips was a pair of scandalously short pink shorts that did not even conceal the entirety of her pert little bottom, allowing a teensy bit of those soft cheeks to slip out the bottom. Rising up above those hips was a smooth, lavender-colored tummy left bare by a teeny-tiny tube top of the same pink as the rest of her attire. Her breasts were small, barely a handful, yet were perky enough to hold their teardrop shape even without the aid of a bra. Her shoulders were bare, and her slender arms led down to hands tipped by long, pink nails. A pretty, pink tail swished and swayed behind her, while the luscious, pink locks atop her head had been done up in twintails, accentuating her youthful, girlish appearance. Her face was as lovely as the rest of her, her soft, smiling lips smeared with pink lip gloss, her long lashes thick with mascara, and her spiraling horn polished like a mirror. Perhaps the only thing out of place about that mare's stunningly sexy appearance were her eyes, eyes which, while as big and beautiful as a pair of sparkling amethysts, betrayed the tense, anxious fear that filled her heart.
She was right to be afraid, of course. She knew what was out there, lurking in the shadows. She knew that, at any moment, her quiet, peaceful walk might become something else entirely. She dreaded that moment as the minutes slowly passed by...but she also hoped against hope that it would come.
You see, Ersatz Quarry was not like those poor, innocent mares who had walked blindly into the waiting arms of the monster who had terrorized that little town for the past two weeks. She knew what she was getting into, and she knew exactly what she would do once she got into it. It was all part of the plan, you see, the plan that she had spent many hours preparing, organizing, and checklisting for.
Ersatz Quarry, if you couldn't guess, was much more than she appeared to be. Everything about her, in fact, was deceiving, from her appearance, to her mannerisms, and even to her name. Those elements had been carefully designed for the one who now wore that persona, the one who was currently doing her very best to play her role in that grand charade: the little unicorn named Twilight Sparkle.
Just relax, Twilight. Just relax. Any minute now. Any minute now.
Twilight allowed herself a calming sigh as she strode down the street. Despite the anxiety she felt, she was doing a commendable job at keeping a level head, especially given how prone that little egghead was to cracking under pressure. Still, she was understandably on edge, and so mentally reviewed her plan as she went along, as if doing so enough times would ensure its success.
It was a simple plan...foolishly simple, some might have said. If she and her friends could not get to the Prowler, as their many failed attempts to do so had made clear, then it was only logical that they get the Prowler to come to them, and there seemed to be no better bait for that villainous pervert than a vulnerable, defenseless little mare all alone on a dark night.
Her friends had objected, predictably. The idea of Twilight willingly putting herself in harm's way, acting as live bait for the Prowler, had been abhorrent to them. They had argued about it for a while, her friends insisting that there had to be some other way to catch the Prowler, despite not having any better ideas. In the end, it had been Rainbow Dash who had come to Twilight's aid, passionately commending her bravery for taking on such a dangerous mission, and saying that any one of them would have done the same if it meant protecting the mares of Ponyville. That had ended the argument quickly, and although they had still feared for Twilight's safety, the rest of her friends had agreed to help her.
The trickiest part of the plan by far had been turning the prim and proper Twilight into the lovely and lascivious Ersatz Quarry, a mare that the Prowler could not possibly ignore. Rarity had done most of the heavy lifting in that regard, designing an ensemble that was sexy enough to make Twilight downright irresistible, but not so sexy as to arouse suspicion. Added onto that had been a generous amount of pink hair dye, makeup, and some false nails in order to make Twilight truly unrecognizable, as if she were just some sexy little mare out for an evening stroll, rather than the powerful, determined unicorn that she was. Unsatisfied with Twilight's chaste, unprovocative demeanor, Rarity had also spent quite a while showing Twilight how to use what her mama gave her, teaching the nerdy mare how to sway her hips, swish her tail, bat her eyelashes, and do all of the hundred other little things that mares do to draw attention to themselves. While she wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants anytime soon, Twilight had been deemed proficient enough in the feminine arts to play her role, and so they had carried on with their plan.
Her friends had, of course, asked why Twilight had to put herself in danger all alone, without them by her side. Twilight had been quick to point out that the Prowler almost certainly would not have attempted to ambush a small group of mares walking together, making the whole exercise pointless. No, if they were to catch the Prowler, then they could not take any such chances. The Prowler had demonstrated herself to be wily and clever, and would no doubt be able to sniff out any obvious traps. For that reason, Twilight and the girls had done their best to make it seem like nothing was amiss. The guards' patrols had been unaltered, as such a move would have been easily noticeable and quite suspicious, although they had been told to keep their distance from the little pink-haired mare. Twilight's friends, meanwhile, had been positioned in strategically chosen locations throughout Ponyville, under strict orders not to come to her aid until she signaled for help, lest they scare away the Prowler. That signal would come in the form of a bright, magical flare Twilight planned to send up from her horn as soon as she caught sight of the villain.
It seemed so straightforward, and yet Twilight, as one might expect, was still able to fret and fuss over every conceivable way the plan could go awry. She had been tense and poised ever since she had begun her walk almost half an hour earlier, ready for anything, but as the time had passed, and nothing of note had actually happened, her focus had waned. She was growing impatient, and paranoid, fearing that, somehow, the Prowler had discovered her plan and was deliberately avoiding her. Suffice it to say, Twilight was a bit jumpy as she turned off of the street and sauntered down a nearby alleyway, a pair of lustful eyes watching her from the shadows as she went.
Twilight had walked down many of Ponyville's alleys that night, calculating that the Prowler was most likely to attack her in such a secluded location. That alley, however, seemed to be no different from all the others, just a thin little passage decorated with a few old fliers on the walls and a few dented trash cans. Still, Twilight kept her guard up as she walked down the alley. After all, the Prowler could sneak up on her at any—
Rattle!
A fraction of a second after Twilight heard the metallic rattle of a trash can behind her, she was already whipping around, her horn igniting with magical power. In the blink of an eye, she had readied and loosed the stunning spell that she had been waiting to cast all night long. A luminescent beam of pinkish-purplish energy shot from the tip of her horn, sailing through the air straight towards the one who stood beside the trash can just a few yards away from her. A heartbeat later, the light had faded, and Twilight looked upon the spot she had fired upon, where she saw...
A stray cat, still clutching a morsel of food it had nabbed from the trashcan between its teeth.
"Meow?" said the cat, surprised and confused at why its body has suddenly become as stiff as a statue. A moment later, it toppled down onto the ground beside it, unharmed, barring its sudden petrification.
It took a few moments for Twilight's panicked brain to process that the creature before her was not, in fact, a dangerous mare-molester, but merely a harmless kitty-cat. Shock and embarrassment quickly replaced fear, and Twilight was grateful that Fluttershy was not there to witness the act of accidental animal abuse.
"Oh my gosh!" said Twilight. "I-I'm so sorry! Uh...here, let me..."
Twilight was readying her magic, preparing to cast the spell that would restore the cat to its normal state, when, suddenly, she felt a small weight on her head, and the spell dissipated like dust in the wind. All of her magical power was gone, in fact, the sudden disappearance sending a shiver down her spine. It would have been difficult to describe such a unique feeling to a non-unicorn, but for ponies such as Twilight, ponies whose magical abilities were as much a part of them as their arms or legs, it felt comparable to the feeling of one of those limbs going completely and utterly limp. She could still feel her magic; it was still connected to her, and yet it merely sat there like a piece of meat, a dead weight that she was incapable of prodding to life again.
Twilight let out a sharp gasp as she became aware of her sudden impotence, and reflexively looked up at her horn, leaning her head back, as if that would somehow give her a better look at something that was attached to her forehead. Despite the awkward angle, she could clearly see the little ring of black metal that sat snugly on her horn about halfway down its length. She could also see past her horn, up above her head, where she saw the grinning face of the one hovering in midair above her.
"Hey, cutie," came the raspy voice of the Ponyville Prowler.
The instant Twilight recovered from her shock, she opened her mouth wide, preparing to let loose as loud of a cry for help as she could. The Prowler, however, clearly anticipating such an action, took advantage of the opportunity to shove something big and soft into Twilight's mouth. Twilight had barely gotten out a single letter of her plea before her scream was abruptly muffled by what she knew was undoubtedly a sock, even before she tasted its sweaty fabric.
Twilight let out a stream of muffled screams, cries, and curses as the Prowler grabbed her arms from behind and forced her up against one of the alley's walls. The Prowler held her there, her chest pressed against the side of the building, while she pulled her arms behind her and began to bind her in her usual fashion. Twilight wriggled and writhed in the Prowler's strong grip, desperately trying to break free, but the little bookworm was just too weak to escape. She desperately kicked backwards, hoping to jab the Prowler with her heels, but the Prowler merely raised her legs up and out of Twilight's reach as she hovered behind her. Twilight's magic was no use to her either; she tried again and again to summon her magic, trying to cast a teleportation spell, a shield spell, or any spell for that matter, but was unable to rouse her horn to life.
"You know, I kinda like this plan of yours," the Prowler said teasingly. "I saw right through your little disguise, of course, but when I saw you all dressed up like some slutty streetwalker, I just couldn't resist! It was a good plan, but...it probably needed a little more work." As she said this, the Prowler reached up and tapped the ring on Twilight's horn for emphasis, before returning to her knotwork.
A horn ring! A horn ring! Why didn't I think of that? Why in Equestria didn't I think of that?
Twilight mentally lambasted herself for not considering that possibility. Then again, why should she have? A horn ring was such a trivial thing, just the magical equivalent of the fuzzy handcuffs one might buy at a seedy sex shop. They were just for pretend, just for ponies looking to spice up their bedroom activities a little, and were not a serious restraint...provided you knew the magical safeword to deactivate them. Unfortunately for Twilight, the Prowler did not seem inclined to share that safeword with her.
"There we go!" said the Prowler as she gave Twilight's knotted tail one last tug, securing the makeshift binding around Twilight's wrists.
Twilight angrily demanded that she be released, and struggled to wrench her hands free from their bindings, but her muffled words fell on deaf ears, and her frantic pulling only succeeded in giving her tail a few painful tugs.
"You know," said the Prowler, wrapping her arms around Twilight from behind in a mockery of a loving embrace, "I normally like to take my time with this...play with my food a little." As she said this, the Prowler's hand wandered up to Twilight's tube top, slipping a finger beneath it and tugging it down slightly, revealing a tantalizing inch of the lavender cleavage it concealed. "But...I think I'm gonna get my meal to go tonight."
Twilight's anger and frustration quickly turned to desperate fear as she realized the unfortunate predicament she was in. There was no way she could physically overpower the Prowler, and without her magic, she had no other way of escaping. Her friends would not be coming to her aid; they would be waiting for Twilight's magical signal, which she was now incapable of sending. There were no guards nearby either; she had been intentionally avoiding them, lest they scare away the Prowler. Twilight's plan to get some time together with the Prowler had worked a little too well, it seemed.
Twilight had only a moment to consider this, however, before the Prowler suddenly swept her off her feet, picking her up in a princess carry.
"Hang on tight!" said the Prowler as she spread her wings wide.
Twilight's eyes went wide, and she wriggled in the Prowler's grip, but was unable to prevent those powerful wings from flapping, sending both ponies shooting straight upwards.
Twilight screamed in terror as the Prowler zipped through the air, darting to and fro over the rooftops of Ponyville, but she could not even hear her own muffled voice over the whistling of the wind rushing past her. She tried in vain to keep track of the buildings they passed by, but the two flew past them so quickly and so erratically that she was soon disoriented on top of terrified. If she had had a better view, and been in a more analytical mindset, Twilight might have realized that the Prowler was zig-zagging through Ponyville's airspace in such a way as to avoid the eyes of the patrolling guards. The Prowler was also flying low, practically skimming the thatched roofs of the homes beneath them, keeping her out of sight of Twilight's friends, whose eyes were currently glued to the skies far above, watching for a firework that would never come.
However, that all changed once Twilight and the Prowler had flown past the very edge of Ponyville, soaring over the wide, green meadows and low hills that lay just beyond the town. There, the Prowler dispensed with stealth. There, the Prowler slowly angled her trajectory, veering upwards from her previously horizontal path, sending the two of them rocketing straight up into the air. Twilight's stomach tingled as she felt the intense G-forces of their rapid ascent, and screamed again. She watched in horror as Ponyville shrunk into the distance, and the scattered clouds overhead grew closer and closer. Eventually, however, the two came to a stop, the Prowler spreading her wings and grinding to a halt so quickly that Twilight's inertia sent her shooting up several extra feet into the air. Twilight screamed and wriggled in midair as she rose, and then slowly fell back down into the waiting arms of the Prowler.
For several moments, Twilight could do nothing but tremble from the heart-stopping ride she had just been on. Slowly, she turned her head and looked down at Ponyville far below. Those pretty little houses and shops looked as small to her eyes as those one might see decorating a model train display. As she looked upon the familiar town from that unfamiliar angle, taking in the sight of it and the miles of meadows and woodland that surrounded it, Twilight whimpered in fear, realizing just how high up she was.
"Aww...What's the matter?" said the Prowler. "Afraid of heights?"
Twilight looked back at the Prowler, seeing the smug look upon her assailant's face. While still absolutely terrified, Twilight's earlier indignant rage slowly returned, and she hurled a volley of angry exclamations in the Prowler's direction.
Let me go! Let me go, let me go, let me go! Let me go, you...you pervert! Let me go right this instant!
The Prowler, of course, heard none of this, Twilight's voice still being muffled by her makeshift gag, but she got the gist of what Twilight was trying to convey.
"Oh? Oh, what's that?" said the Prowler, cocking an ear. "You want me to let you go?"
Twilight nodded enthusiastically, and grunted her affirmation.
The Prowler shrugged. "Okay," she said, "whatever you say."
Yes! Just let me go and then...wait, no no no no no no no no!
An instant too late, Twilight recognized the trap she had walked into. She screamed long and loud as the Prowler did as Twilight had commanded, releasing the little unicorn and allowing her to plummet down towards the ground. Twilight kicked and squirmed as she fell, her eyes glued to the ground, which was rushing towards her at a frightening speed. In the span of a few seconds, Twilight saw her life flash before her eyes, thinking to herself that she should have read more books.
While it felt to Twilight as if she were falling for hours, in reality, it was only a moment or two before she saw a flash of motion beneath her, and felt a pair of strong arms catch her, slowing her to a halt. The Prowler chuckled as she adjusted Twilight, getting the mare into a princess carry once again.
"You should see the look on your face!" said the Prowler.
Twilight panted heavily, and her body trembled from the buckets' worth of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She stared silently at the Prowler, too terrified of provoking the madmare to risk another word.
"Oh, come on!" said the Prowler. "You gotta admit that was a little bit fun!"
Twilight repeated her muffled pleas for release, but this time, her tone was noticeably less demanding and noticeably more fearful, even with gag muffling her.
"Huh? You want me to play with you some more?" said the Prowler, her devious grin widening. "Well, since you asked so nicely..."
The next few minutes were a wild ride for Twilight. The Prowler gleefully subjected her to further "entertainment", tossing the little mare about like a filly playing with her dolly. The Prowler would throw her into the air, letting Twilight scream and flail for a moment, before catching her once again. She would fake-drop Twilight, just to mess with her, and then actually drop her, allowing Twilight to plummet for a few seconds, before inevitably coming to her rescue. Twilight had never before felt so helpless, so completely at the mercy of somepony else, as she did then.
As she played with her new toy, hefting and hurling her around with ease, the Prowler snuck in playful squeezes of Twilight's cute little buns and her perky tits, although Twilight was much too busy being afraid to feel any shame at this perverted treatment. In fact, Twilight, abandoning any notions of modesty or self-respect in favor of self-preservation, tried desperately to cling to her tormentor, wrapping her legs around the Prowler's waist and squeezing tightly.
"Aww...You wanna wrap your legs around me?" the Prowler teased. "Well, just hang on a little bit longer. We're almost there, then you can hold me as much as you want."
Twilight had not noticed it, due to being a bit preoccupied with not falling to her doom, but the Prowler had been slowly making her way further away from town as she had toyed with Twilight. Now, Twilight looked up, following the Prowler's gaze towards a big, fluffy cloud that hovered just a short distance away. After a few more moments and a few more playful gropes, the two reached the cloud, then dove straight on into it. Twilight felt the touch of cool mist upon her face as they plunged into that fluffy mass, a feeling that would probably have been soothing, had she been in the correct mental state to appreciate it.
A moment later, the two emerged into what Twilight quickly realized was some sort of hollowed out space in the center of the cloud. The space was not particularly big, being around the size of a child's treehouse, just big enough to stand up and move around in comfortably. Twilight might have called it cozy, had such a wholesome word not felt inappropriate to describe the hideout of a depraved mare-molester. The Prowler's hideout was mostly empty, with the notable exception of the big mattress and accompanying pillow that lay in the middle of the space, their fabric bearing stains from indeterminate fluids that Twilight did not contemplate for too long. Several other smaller items lay scattered about the cloudy floor: empty cans of energy drink, a half-eaten bag of chips, and some old socks to name a few. Some of the more worrying articles that Twilight noticed were several dildos of varying size, material, and color, and a half-empty bottle of lubricant, which forced Twilight to recall the experiences of the Prowler's previous victims. Despite having read several books on the subject, Twilight still did not fully understand the physics-defying ability of pegasi to support objects on top of clouds; still, if the pegasi could make clouds capable of supporting entire coliseums, then she supposed she shouldn't have been surprised to see a mere mattress supported on one.
"Ah...here we are," said the Prowler.
The Prowler landed on the fluffy floor of the hideout, which squished beneath her feet like a sofa cushion. She approached the mattress, then pried the still-quivering Twilight off of her, gently tossing her down onto the mattress. Twilight made a soft pomf as she fell upon the mattress, which bounced her back up slightly, but she quickly came to rest.
"Here, lemme get that for you," said the Prowler casually, before reaching down and pulling the sock out of Twilight's mouth.
While she may have been scared out of her wits, Twilight was still able to recognize the opportunity her un-gagging presented, and promptly took advantage of it. She immediately sat up and turned her head towards Ponyville, before shouting at the top of her lungs. "Help! Help! Somepony hel—" she began, before the Prowler placed a strong hand over her mouth, silencing her.
"Jeez, you're gonna blow out my eardrums screaming like that!" said the Prowler. "Why do all the mares I bring up here think that'll do any good? We're inside a cloud, egghead! Nopony in Ponyville is gonna hear us, so do us both a favor and save your breath."
Twilight's muffled cries slowly died away as the Prowler's words filtered into her panicked brain. As much as she hated to admit it, the Prowler was right: she was too far away and too muffled by the fluffy cloud around her for anypony in town to hear her pleas for help. In fact, that was something she had realized when analyzing the stories of the Prowler's previous victims, who had made similarly fruitless attempts at calling for help. In her panic, she had forgotten that detail, a fact which she silently chastized herself for.
Twilight took a deep breath, and forced herself to calm down. Now that the Prowler was no longer tossing her about through the air, her terror gradually waned, making way for the mare's sense of reason. She was still scared, of course, yet she was able to recognize that screaming and babbling like a madmare would not help her get out of that sticky situation. No, if she had any hope of escaping her captor, then she would need to use that big brain of hers to come up with a solution.
Seemingly satisfied with Twilight's calmer demeanor, the Prowler removed her hand, allowing Twilight to take several heavy, gasping breaths. "There we go," said the Prowler with a smile. "You caught on a lot quicker than the others did. Heck, Lyra was screaming pretty much the whole time she was up here. Of course, not all of that screaming was 'cause she was afraid." The Prowler's lecherous smile made it perfectly clear what she meant by that.
Twilight fought to keep a straight face as she glared up at the Prowler, refusing to let her fear and disgust show. The Prowler chuckled at Twilight's non-reaction as she stood up and casually walked away from the mattress.
As her heartbeat slowed, and her trembling body gradually calmed, Twilight looked up at the Prowler, getting a good look at her abductor for the first time. As she had suspected, the Prowler was clearly a mare, although she might have had difficulty discerning that had the Prowler not been dressed in such revealing clothes. As her previous victims had attested to, the Prowler's body was lithe and slender, yet powerful, like the blade of a slashing saber. She was covered from head to toe in toned, sculpted muscle, although this did not diminish from the mare's feminine allure one bit. She was like some marble statue carved by the ancient pegasi: the very image of physical perfection as defined by classical aesthetics. Her long legs led up to a set of hips covered in tight spandex shorts which emphasized her iron buns and the subtle cameltoe between her thighs. A black sports bra concealed her breasts, which looked to be even smaller than Twilight's humble pair, while leaving the rest of her torso bare, allowing Twilight to gaze upon her muscular back, and the set of sculpted abs upon her flat tummy. Both her arms and the pair of feathered wings now folded against her back were clearly muscular and powerful, yet paradoxically sleek and feminine in appearance. All in all, she had the sort of body that many mares would have traded their souls to posses...or to spend an evening rubbing up against.
The Prowler bent at the hip, reaching down to slip off the pair of running shoes she wore, and presenting Twilight with an excellent view of her tight, toned tushie. Twilight had a brief urge to nibble on those beautiful buns, but she banished the thought as quickly as it had arrived. That was no time to let her baser desires rule her, she told herself.
Quickly refocusing, Twilight looked upon the Prowler again, focusing on the more meaningful aspects of her appearance. The Prowler's coat, as her victims' testimony had suggested, was a sort of sky blue, although it was a bit difficult to make that out, as the pale moonlight that filtered through the cloud made everything within appear dim and washed-out. Despite this, Twilight was still able to make out the Prowler's long mane and tail, and quickly realized why her victims had given such differing accounts of her hair color. The Prowler's hair was not blue, or red, or green, but all of those at once, her multicolored mane boasting streaks of every color of the rainbow. Unfortunately, the Prowler's cutie mark was obscured by her shorts, and the top half of her face was covered by the black bandit mask her victims had described, preventing any easy identification.
Sky blue coat and a rainbow mane? Why does that sound so familiar? Oh, if only she would take off that mask...or let me get a good look at her ass...for science, of course.
The Prowler sighed in relief as she yanked off her gym socks and placed her bare feet on the cool, fluffy floor beneath her. She stood up straight, doing some quick stretches, before glancing back at where Twilight sat on the mattress. "Hey, you want somethin' to drink?" she said casually. "I think I got a fresh one of these somewhere." As she said this, she rummaged through the cans of energy drink littering the floor, shaking them to feel how full they were.
Twilight's jaw tightened. She had heard that the Prowler liked to engage in idle chit-chat with her victims, as if she were an old friend of theirs who had invited them over to hang out, rather than a dangerous criminal intent on violating them. Twilight believed the Prowler had done this in order to get the mares to lower their guards, and make them less inclined to escape. Well, it didn't matter what kind of mind games the Prowler wanted to play, Twilight told herself, she was not about to lower her guard even for even a moment.
"Ah-ha!" said the Prowler as they found an unopened can amidst the garbage. She presented it to Twilight, shaking it enticingly, but when she saw the hard scowl upon her captive's face, her grin faded. "Oh, come on. It's not poisoned or drugged or anything. I'm into some kinky shit, I'll admit, but I'm not into that kind of stuff!" When Twilight remained silent, the Prowler shrugged. "Ah well, more for me then!" She quickly cracked open the energy drink and chugged what must have been half of the can's contents, before letting out a satisfied sigh. "Ah...that's the stuff!" She lowered the can to the floor and wedged it into the cloud, which held the can as solidly as if it were made of snow.
As she observed the Prowler's bizarrely friendly behavior, Twilight worked to come up with some sort of plan. Obviously, her first priority was to escape the Prowler's clutches, but stuck high up in the Prowler's hideout as she was, and without any wings of her own, she could not simply walk away. She could try to free her horn, but the Prowler would surely notice and stop her if she tried to escape her bindings. Her only hope, therefore, was if somepony else came to her rescue, her friends being the most likely candidates. Eventually, her friends would surely realize that something had gone amiss, and would come looking for her. All she had to do was stall for time, something that Twilight thought she might be capable of doing. The Prowler seemed to be quite chatty, after all, so if Twilight could just keep her talking long enough...
"Why are you doing this?" Twilight said flatly.
"Huh?" said the Prowler confusedly. "Why am I doing what?"
The Prowler's casual response struck a nerve with Twilight, and her anger flared up. "This!" she said, her voice growing louder with every word. "All of this! Why are you kidnapping mares? Why are you doing such horrible things to them? You...Who are you?"
"Woah, woah, woah!" said the Prowler, holding out a calming hand. "Take it easy, Twilight! One thing at a time." She chuckled, as if Twilight were getting all upset over nothing.
Twilight took a deep breath, then snorted like an angry bull. "Who...are...you?" she said through gritted teeth.
The Prowler's smug grin returned. "Who am I?" she said. "You think I'm just gonna tell you? Aren't you supposed to be the detective here?"
"Who are you?" Twilight repeated, ignoring the Prowler's taunting.
The Prowler seemed to consider the question for a moment. "Who am I?" she said. "Hmm...who knows?" She slowly approached Twilight, like a lioness creeping up on a cornered gazelle. "I could be anypony. I could be...your neighbor. I could be...the mailmare. I could be your best friend." She slowly circled Twilight as she said this, then suddenly ducked down, pressing her lips against Twilight's ear. "I could even be Princess Celestia in disguise. Ever think of that?"
For a brief moment, the many lewd fantasies that had snuck their way into Twilight's mind over the past two weeks suddenly resurfaced, only this time, instead of Twilight imagining herself being molested by some faceless, shadowy figure, she found herself staring into the divinely beautiful face of her beloved mentor Princess Celestia, the regal mare smiling warmly as she pressed her voluptuous body against Twilight's and slipped her fingers between Twilight's legs. Twilight quickly forced those shameful thoughts out of her mind, but not quickly enough to keep her thighs from quivering in excitement.
Twilight turned to face the Prowler, glaring up at her grinning face. "Princess Celestia would never do something so horrible!" she declared. "My friends wouldn't either, so don't even joke about that! Why don't you stop playing around and just take off that mask already...unless you're scared of me seeing your face." It was a gamble. Twilight knew that the Prowler was prideful and arrogant, so perhaps such an accusation would get under the Prowler's skin.
"Hey! I'm not scared of anything!" said the Prowler, her smile vanishing. "I don't want the royal guard to come knocking on my door or anything, but that's doesn't mean I'm scared! Besides..." She stood before Twilight, her lips stretching into a hungry grin as she stared down at her captive. "It's so much hotter this way."
Twilight sneered in disgust and looked away. The Prowler leaned down and grabbed Twilight's chin, forcing Twilight to look into her face.
"Don't deny it," said the Prowler. "Don't tell me it isn't hot as hell to think about some mysterious stranger jumping you when you're all alone at night, then putting your sexy little body through the wringer. I wonder how many times you've imagined that recently."
Twilight fought to keep a straight face, but she was powerless to stop her cheeks from reddening.
The Prowler chuckled as she released Twilight and stood up straight again. "So, no," she said. "The mask stays on. Although...I can meet you halfway." She slowly turned around, facing away from Twilight and looking back over her shoulder. "I bet you've been wanting to get a good look at my ass, huh?" She lifted her tail and slowly wiggled her hips, presenting her perfect posterior to Twilight.
"What? No!" said Twilight reflexively. "I mean...I've been wanting to see your cutie mark, yes, but not..." She trailed off as her eyes wandered back to the spandex-clad cheeks just a couple of feet away from her face.
The Prowler chuckled as she saw the distracted look on Twilight's face. "Don't worry, Twilight," she said. "I know what you want."
The Prowler slowly moved her hands to her hips, slipping her thumbs into her shorts. Ever-so-slowly, she began to work her shorts down her hips, and at the same time, swayed her ass back and forth in a sultry striptease.
Twilight wanted to look away, but her eyes remained locked on those glorious glutes, for more reasons than one. If there was even a sliver of a chance that the Prowler would actually show Twilight her cutie mark, then Twilight couldn't afford to miss it. She had to look at that ass...for science! At least, that's what Twilight told herself as her breathing grew heavier and her heartbeat quickened.
The Prowler spent several long moments pulling down her shorts, revealing her beautiful blue buns at an agonizingly slow rate. She watched Twilight's begrudgingly attentive expression all the while, gauging her reaction. When the first bit of her buns poked up over the fabric, she saw Twilight's eyes widen. When the first tantalizing inch of ass-cleavage was revealed, she saw Twilight nibble on her lip. Suddenly, she froze, her hands and her hips falling still for a long, dramatic moment. She waited, savoring Twilight's clear need to see more, and then, with one swift motion, yanked her shorts all the way down to her thighs.
Twilight gasped as she beheld that butt, poring over its tight, taut flesh, its smooth, sleek curves, and...the strips of black tape on the side of each cheek, concealing the cutie marks beneath. Disappointment briefly flashed through Twilight's mind, but it was almost immediately forgotten, as was every other thought that did not revolve around the succulent, sexy ass before her face. Twilight was soon lost in that ass, mesmerized by it, unable to tear her eyes away from that perfectly sculpted rear. She watched a bead of sweat slowly roll down one cheek, before disappearing into the canyon between them. She smelled the deliciously disgusting aroma that emanated from it, an incomparable mixture of salty sweat and thick, feminine musk. As she stared, the Prowler flexed her glutes, one at a time, a sight so invigorating that Twilight could not help but let out a little moan as she beheld it.
"Enjoying the show?" said the Prowler.
The sound of that raspy voice roused Twilight from her stupor, and she managed to tear her eyes away from the Prowler's ass, looking up at the aggravatingly smug grin upon her face. Twilight's anger quickly flared up at the sight of that grin, and she looked away indignantly.
"Aww, don't be like that," said the Prowler. "You should get a good look at the body you're gonna be worshiping pretty soon."
The Prowler turned around, facing Twilight, and as she did so, Twilight saw, out of the corner of her eye, something that she could not ignore. Right between the Prowler's toned thighs, and beneath her smooth, shaven mound, sat the most picturesque little pussy Twilight had ever seen. Those little blue lips, like every part of the Prowler's body, were tight and taut, pursed together to conceal her entrance from view. At the same time, they were thick and plump, boldly declaring that their owner was indeed a mare, not some little filly. The cherry on top of that feast for the eyes was the pretty little clit that sat nestled between those lips, practically begging to be touched and teased.
For a long moment, Twilight gazed upon that pussy, her mouth slowly gaping as the sight burned itself into her brain. Eventually, though, she managed to come to her senses, shaking her head and snapping her mouth shut. She quickly looked up at the Prowler, whose visible smugness was rising to insufferable levels. She gave the Prowler a stern, disgusted look, then looked away again. She silently willed herself to concentrate, realizing that she was doing a poor job of stalling the Prowler, and that she would continue to do so if she allowed herself to be distracted by the sexy body before her.
"Why are you doing this?" said Twilight. "Why kidnap me...and all those other mares? Why can't you just...just...?"
"Why can't I just pick up mares the 'normal' way?" said the Prowler, with accompanying air quotes. "Believe me, I could if I wanted to. If I wanted to, I could pick up pretty much any mare I wanted. It's really not that hard when you're as awesome as I am. All it takes is a quick flash of these abs, or this killer ass...and mares will practically throw themselves at me. In the past, that's usually been enough for me...bringing home a slut or two to play with, fucking their brains out, making them squeal...but lately, it's just gotten...boring. When you have thirsty little whores begging you to fuck them on a regular basis, it's...it's just not a challenge...it's just not as fun. On top of that, I've been under a lot of stress recently, so not being able to have fun fucking sexy little mares was really leaving me all pent-up."
The Prowler sighed heavily, slowly looking off into the distance, as if losing herself in thought, but when she looked back down at Twilight, her lips spread into predatory grin. "Of course, I figured out how to solve that problem," she said. "I figured out how to up the ante a bit...make things a little more exciting." She leaned down, grabbing Twilight's chin and forcing Twilight to look at her. "Why bother with talking and flirting and stuff like that...when I can just take whatever I want, whenever I want? It saves everypony a lot of time, and everypony wins! I get to have a nice, fun time domming little mares who actually put up a fight, and the mares get to enjoy the sort of good, hard fucking that they couldn't get anywhere else."
Twilight wrenched her head away. "Enjoy it?" she said, her voice tinged with disgust. "How can you say that? How can you possibly think that those mares enjoyed what you put them through?"
The Prowler suddenly broke out into a bout of hearty laughter. "Oh, come on, Twilight!" she said as she recovered. "Don't try to tell me I imagined all of those mares cumming their brains out. I was there, remember? I know they probably didn't say it, but...you talked to them. You know how much they enjoyed spending the night with me. I know you do. You're not an idiot, Twilight, so don't play dumb."
"I don't know what you're talking about!" Twilight said reflexively, but even as the words left her lips, she knew it was a lie.
Twilight had indeed spoken to the Prowler's victims, listening to every sordid detail of their accounts. Throughout those interviews, the molested mares had spoken at length about how horrified, embarrassed, violated, and terrified their experiences had made them, and had lobbed pretty much every insult in the dictionary at the Prowler, making no secret of their supposed disdain for her. That being said, even as she had listened to them, Twilight had not been able to shake the feeling that the mares were being a bit...overzealous. The mares had certainly said that they had been horribly traumatized by their intense molestings, but Twilight had not really gotten that impression as she had listened to them eagerly recount every indecent thing the Prowler had done to them. Even as the mares had cursed the Prowler's name, Twilight could not help but notice the way their cheeks had flushed, their thighs had rubbed together, and they had nibbled their lips. Until that moment, Twilight had dismissed such reactions as the product of nerves, even when her own body had reacted in a similar fashion to the obscene stories she had heard.
When Twilight saw the Prowler chuckle, she realized that her face must have betrayed the truth that she could not being herself to admit.
"Come on, Twi," said the Prowler. "Just admit it. Just admit that those mares loved every second of it. I know you were probably hoping I was some big bad guy running around molesting mares 'cause of how evil and nasty I was. I bet you thought the princess would be really proud of you for catching somepony like that. The truth is, I'm just a mare who enjoys a little...proactive dating every now and then. Oh, and rough sex, but who doesn't like a little slap and tickle every now and then, emphasis on the 'slap'." She punctuated this with a quick spank she delivered to one of her own cheeks, the crack of her hand on her muscled glute like that of a bullwhip. "Those little mares sure did!"
"No! You...You are a bad guy!" said Twilight, her voice betraying her crumbling resolve. "You molested some of the most prominent mares in town! Just...Just leaving them out there in the open like that...and that writing! You can't expect me to believe all that was just...just for fun!"
Strangely, the Prowler's smile faded, and she sheepishly scratched the back of her head. "Yeah...I sorta get where you're comin' from," she said. "Honestly, that was sort of a spur-of-the-moment thing. After I finished fucking Spoiled's brains out, I was gonna try to clean her up a bit, but she just looked so fucking hot...just lying there like a used cum rag. I thought to myself, wouldn't it be hot if everypony in town could see her like this? So, I took her back to town, set her up nice and slutty, and marked her up a little bit for emphasis. I was worried it might have been a bit much, but when I saw those pictures the Enquirer got of her...I just couldn't help myself. I knew I had to do that again!"
"You're telling me you didn't have anything against those mares?" said Twilight. "That this has all just been some...some fetish of yours?"
"Of course I don't have anything against them," the Prowler chuckled. "Why would I? I mean...I think Spoiled is a huge bitch, but so does everypony. I didn't molest her just 'cause of that. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time. As for the mayor, well...I might have been a teensy bit annoyed at her for what she said about me that day, but it's not like I hated her or anything. I was just...paying her back a little. Of course, if I'd know how badly she needed a good fuck, I might have molested her a long time ago. Same with all those mares, actually."
The Prowler noticed the disgusted look Twilight was giving her. "Oh, don't give me that look," she said. You know I'm right. The mayor's been as frazzled as you these past couple weeks. Admittedly, that might have been slightly my fault, but that just meant it was my responsibility to help her chill out a bit, and I think I did pretty well on that front. Don't you?"
Twilight didn't answer. She couldn't bring herself to admit that Mayor Mare, who was normally wound tight even on a good day, had been abnormally calm and collected ever since her encounter with the Prowler.
The Prowler didn't wait for Twilight's response. "Same with Carrot Top," she said. "That mare works so hard that she doesn't even have time to date. I bet it'd been years since she'd gotten laid. She sure seemed to enjoy me setting that clock back down to zero."
Twilight had wondered why the hardworking Carrot Top had been so mellow recently, and had even lowered the prices at her carrot stand, despite historically driving such hard bargains.
"Lyra and Bon Bon?" the Prowler continued. "Heh...everypony knows those two haven't really been doing it for each other lately. It's a good thing I happened to be flying by that night. Turns out, nothing brings two mares closer together than a good, rough mare-molesting."
Lyra and Bon Bon's relationship problems had always been an open secret amongst certain circles. Because of this, it had come as a pleasant surprise to many to see how affectionate the two had been with each other recently...how happy, satisfied, and content they had seemed.
"And Spoiled?" chuckled the Prowler. "Oh, don't act like she didn't need to get knocked down a peg or two. That bitch spends so much time fucking over other ponies, but I don't think she'd gotten a good fuck herself in years. I fixed that right up, of course. I even got her to say 'please' and 'thank you' while I did it!"
Twilight had had the most difficulty ignoring Spoiled's recent change in mood. While the mare was still a huge bitch, it had seemed as if the Prowler, while rummaging around in Spoiled's ass, had managed to find the huge stick previously shoved up there, and had managed to dislodge it slightly. Rumor had it that Spoiled had stopped charging her maid for sick days, and had even approved the purchase of new textbooks for the local schoolhouse, something that Twilight could not pretend she was not happy about.
"Face it, Twilight," said the Prowler. "I'm the good guy here! I've just been giving the horny little mares of Ponyville the hard fuckings they need! I'm like some sort of superhero...a sex superhero, saving Ponyville from sexual frustration, one slut at a time! Heck, I've even got a superhero name! The Ponyville Prowler!" She slowly waved her hands before her, as if imagining the name up in lights. "I wonder how long it'll be before they start making merch?"
"Superheroes don't go around molesting innocent mares," Twilight said flatly.
The Prowler grinned, then bent at the waist, leaning down to bring her face closer to Twilight's. "If they did...I bet their comics would sell a lot better," she said.
"You're despicable," said Twilight. "You won't get away with this. I'll...I'll stop you!"
The Prowler chuckled as she rose. "I've been getting away with it for a while now," she said. "So...why don't you just chillax and...you can go back to worrying about your little investigation after we've had some fun together." As she said this, she reached up and took hold of her sports bra, pulling it up and over her head in one smooth motion.
Twilight was about to say something, but fell silent as she beheld the Prowler's beautiful blue boobs. They were indeed small, just big enough for her to avoid being called flat-chested, but like every other part of her body, they were perfectly shaped, as if sculpted by a master's hand. Those pretty little hills were perfectly perky as well, holding their shape just as well without a bra as they had with it, and each one was crested by the most adorable little pink nipple. So stunning was the sight of those tantalizing tits that Twilight remained frozen in awe...until they began to come closer to her.
Twilight gasped as the Prowler advanced towards her, moving as slow as a slinking snake. "Wait!" she cried, reflexively scooting away from the Prowler, as if that would do her any good. "You...You can't!" Her heartbeat quickened as she realized what was surely coming next. She frantically racked her brain, desperately trying to come up with something to delay her inevitable molesting further. When the Prowler suddenly planted a foot on Twilight's chest, however, and forced her down onto the mattress, the shock wiped Twilight's brain clean. Twilight merely stared up at the smiling face of her captor, her head resting comfortably on the pillow behind it, and the Prowler's foot pinning her firmly, but not painfully, to the mattress.
"I can't?" said the Prowler. "Can't what? I can't hold you down, rip those slutty clothes off of you, and go to town on that sexy little body of yours? I can't use you however I want, as hard as I want, for as long as I want? I can't make you cum over and over and over again...make you cum harder than you've ever cum in your entire life? I hate to break it to you, Twi, but...I can. I can...and I will." The smile that stretched across her lips sent a shiver down Twilight's spine, and made her moistening marehood clench in eager anticipation. "So...if you have any last words, I'd suggest you get 'em out now...'cause you're not gonna be doing anything but moaning and screaming for the rest of the night."
There were, in fact, many things that Twilight wanted to say in that moment, but she was too stunned, too terrified, and too horny to get a single word out in the 3.8 seconds she had before the Prowler pounced.
Twilight Sparkle prided herself on being a well-organized, well-prepared mare, the sort of mare who had a plan to deal with any eventuality. Unfortunately, none of the many plans and strategies she had filed away in that intelligent mind of hers addressed what one should do upon finding themselves abducted by a masked mare-molester, spirited away to a secret hideout in the clouds, pinned to a dirty mattress, and then shamelessly violated. Consequently, as the Prowler threw herself down onto Twilight, pressing her naked body against her and pressing her ravenous lips against her own in an intense, savage kiss, Twilight could do nothing but let out a jumbled stream of panicked exclamations.
Twilight was immediately and completely overwhelmed, both within and without. Her veins filled with both fearful and lustful hormones, she thrashed wildly about, but the Prowler's strong limbs held her fast, so she accomplished nothing but rubbing her own half-naked body against the Prowler's. She turned her head this way and that, but was unable to break the seal of the Prowler's predatory kiss, or to fight off the strong, dexterous tongue that slithered into her mouth, sought out her own tongue, and proceeded to bully it into submission. Rapid flashes of fear, of panic, of desperation, and even shameful pleasure filled her brain like fireworks, fueling the constant stream of muffled grunts and cries that flowed from her mouth into the Prowler's. The Prowler seemed to drink down those noises as if they were the sweetest of creams, and eagerly milked Twilight for all she was worth.
In Twilight's panicked mind, the Prowler's hands seemed to be everywhere at once. She felt them on her chest, squeezing and squishing her soft breasts through her skimpy top. She felt them on her bare belly, running across her sensitive sides and tickling squeals of involuntary delight out of her. She felt them between her thighs, stroking her quivering pussy through the thin fabric of her short-shorts. She even felt them on her neck, squeezing just tightly enough to make it clear which one of them was in control.
Twilight wasn't sure how long it went on like that, either during or afterwards. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? It was all the same to her, just a single unbroken moment filled with terror, with panic, and with spine-tingling, toe-curling pleasure. The countless kisses and nibbles she received, the gropes and the grabs, the tickles and teases, all of it seemed to blend together into a never-ending torrent that washed over her, threatening to wipe clean her very soul. It did not end, not until Twilight suddenly felt a pair of strong hands upon her chest, and heard the loud ripping of fabric.
Twilight squealed in shock as she felt the sudden kiss of the cool night air upon her chest, and realized what had happened. A moment later, the lips locked with hers were removed, accompanied by a loud, wet pop . Twilight took several gasping breaths as she watched the Prowler lift her head, and then look downwards, licking her lips hungrily. Twilight followed the Prowler's gaze down to her chest, where she saw the tattered remains of her poor tube top, which had been ripped right down the middle by the Prowler's strong hands. With that meager impediment out of the way, Twilight's breasts, those pretty little purple teardrops, were finally exposed, as were the two delectable little pink nipples they boasted.
Twilight had only a moment to process her sudden exposure before the Prowler darted their head forward like a viper, heading straight for one of those tantalizing teats. She felt a jolt of pleasure as the Prowler took that sensitive nub into her mouth and gave it a good, hard suck, and she let out a gasping moan. She continued to moan and squeal and whimper as the Prowler resumed her assault, her hands greedily helping themselves to Twilight's body, while her mouth teased and tasted Twilight's delicious breasts. Twilight had felt overwhelmed before, but that had been nothing compared to the mind-melting pleasure she felt as the Prowler licked and kissed, nibbled and nuzzled, and sucked and slurped her way over every inch of Twilight's vulnerable chest.
"Sweet Celestia," the Prowler mumbled, when her mouth was not full of boob. "You got some...some great titties, Twi!"
Twilight could do nothing but moan in response, although she wanted to do more. She wanted to cry for help. She wanted to shout at the Prowler, demanding that she cease her carnal assault. She wanted to call the Prowler every horrible, disdainful name that a villain such as her deserved to be called, but she could not. The part of her brain that cared for such petty things as morality, decency, and sexual consent was rapidly waning, making way for the part that cared only for the rough, intense pleasure currently coursing through her body. Already, her skin tingled with sexual electricity, and her wild thrashing was not so much a conscious escape attempt as it was a reflexive reaction to the ruthless molesting she was enduring.
No...have to...have to fight it! Can't...let her...win!
Twilight's stubborn resistance was commendable, but even she could not have weathered such an assault forever, especially not once the Prowler plunged one of her grabby hands into Twilight's shorts, worming her fingers beneath Twilight's panties to reach the precious treasure they concealed. Twilight gasped as the Prowler's hand passed over the well-trimmed patch of dark blue hair it found there, brushed against her quivering clit, then moved down to the sopping-wet lips of her pretty, purple pussy. Twilight's lovely little marehood, unlike the Prowler's, was small and subtle, just a cute, girlish slit compared to the Prowler's plump lips. Still, that innocent-looking pussy was leaking like an old, crumbling dam, poised to burst. The Prowler, clearly sensing how wet and eager that little pussy was as she firmly stroked it, took only a moment or two to tease its tender flesh before plunging a finger right between those lips, past the delicate folds they framed, and right though Twilight's virgin-tight entrance.
Twilight felt as if she had been struck by lighting. Her back lifted up off of the mattress, reflexively arching, and her eyes went wide as she let out a wail of pure ecstasy. A cascade of erotic noises followed as the Prowler plunged deeper and deeper into Twilight, barreling past Twilight's clenching walls in her need for speed. It took only moments for the Prowler to bury her finger knuckle-deep into Twilight's tight, wet tunnel, but by that time, Twilight had already been reduced to a quivering, whimpering mess. Her legs trembled, her hips bucked, and she bit her lip to stifle her whorish moans. Still, she resisted.
Can't...give in. Can't...enjoy it. Can't let her...make me...
Twilight's train of thought was derailed as the Prowler began to pump her finger in and out of Twilight's pussy, working the tender flesh quickly and forcefully, sending wave after wave of pleasure shooting straight up to Twilight's barely lucid brain. While that marehood was no stranger to stimulation, its nerdy, unsocial owner having spent many lonely nights in the past exploring it, the gentle, probing touches it was used to paled in comparison to the rough, predatory pussy-pounding it was currently experiencing. The Prowler moved with clear experience and almost reckless confidence, quickly identifying Twilight's most sensitive spots, some of which Twilight had not even been aware of, and subjected them to every manner of manual ministration imaginable. She swirled and twirled, poked and prodded, slipped and slid all over Twilight's dripping honeypot, frying the poor mare's brain with pleasure unlike any she had experienced before, all with one little finger.
The Prowler briefly popped their lips off of one of Twilight's breasts, grinning up at her victim's squealing, scrunching face. "What's the matter, Twi?" she said, breathing heavily. "You...You gonna cum? Oh, you can't do that. You said mares didn't like this, remember?" She promptly returned her mouth to the slobbery nipple it had been tending to, swirling her tongue around it, while increasing the speed of her finger-thrusts.
The Prowler's words filtered through the raging storm of lust swirling around in Twilight's head, and despite currently howling like a bitch in heat, Twilight still found it in her to feel shame at the Prowler's taunt.
No! Not...gonna...cum! Not gonna...not gonna...cum!
The stubborn thought almost had the opposite effect, however, as Twilight could sense her impending climax, and recognize the futility of her resistance. The Prowler was now pumping her pussy as if her life depended on it, as well as teasing her clit with her thumb, a potent combination that was quickly pushing Twilight to the furthest limits of her endurance. Her body had already submitted to the Prowler's unquestionable dominance, her legs spreading wide and her hips bucking against the Prowler's hand, wordlessly begging for more. Only her mind continued to resist the inevitable, although her will was rapidly crumbling under the weight of her own intrusive, treacherous thoughts.
Just give in, Twilight! Just give in! She's so big and strong, and you're so little and weak! Just let her take what she wants!
No! Can't...Can't give...in!
Come on, Twilight! It'll feel so good to just submit to her! Don't you want to feel good?
No! No, I...I...can't...
Yes, Twilight. Just let it happen. Just close your eyes...and cum!
No!
Yes!
I can't...
You can!
I...
You!
Want...
To...
CUM!
Twilight threw back her head and let out a thunderous scream as she finally reached her peak, then went sailing right on over it. Waves of white-hot pleasure washed over her, and her little body convulsed, as if 10,000 volts were arcing through her muscles. Her toes curled, her back arched, and, between her spasming legs, her pussy clenched like a vice, sending a rivulet of hot, sticky marecum gushing forth. All throughout this incredible, indescribable climax, the biggest Twilight had ever experienced by far, the Prowler continued her assault, her lightning-fast fingers not giving Twilight's pulsating pussy even a second of rest, not until the very last wave of pleasure had slammed into Twilight, the very last drop of marecum had leaked from Twilight's lips, and the little mare's thoroughly fucked body fell limp upon the mattress beneath her.
Twilight wasn't sure how long she lay there, her head swimming and her body twitching with the aftershocks of her earth-shaking orgasm. Through the thick haze of afterglow that clouded her mind, she was dimly aware of her heavy breathing, of the stars passing before her eyes, and of the weight of a feminine body resting atop her. Her half-lidded eyes were pointed up at the cloudy ceiling above her, but as the Prowler slowly withdrew her finger from Twilight's depths, sending a shiver of pleasure shooting up her spine, Twilight's eyes clamped shut, and she let out a weary, breathy moan. She could hear the wet sound of slick flesh as her pussy was vacated, and the Prowler popped their lips off of Twilight's boob.
A moment later, the Prowler moaned contentedly, as if she were tasting a rare delicacy. "Mmm...You taste amazing, Twilight," she said.
Twilight did not even have the strength to lift her head and see this, but she didn't have to, for the Prowler's face soon appeared in her field of vision, looming over her. Twilight stared up at that grinning face, seeing the glistening marecum slathered over those lips.
"Here," said the Prowler. "Have a taste!"
The Prowler raised her hand, which was thoroughly slathered with Twilight's fresh marecum, bringing it to Twilight's lips. She unceremoniously shoved those soiled fingers into Twilight's gaping mouth, swirling them around Twilight's tongue. Despite Twilight having sampled the distinctive flavor of her own marecum before, tasting it on the fingers of another was a hundred times more delicious, and a hundred times more erotic. Her mouth reacted instinctively, closing around those fingers and gently sucking on them, like an infant sucking on their mother's breast. Somewhere in the recesses of her melted brain, Twilight recognized the shamefulness of such a lewd act, and might have put a stop to it, but her body was no longer obeying her orders, choosing instead to unabashedly pursue the erotic pleasure her tormentor was offering her.
The Prowler chuckled as she watched Twilight clean her fingers. "Gee, Twilight," she said, "you sure look like you enjoyed that...but that can't be right. You said it yourself: no mare could possibly enjoy being molested...right?"
Twilight dimly registered the sarcasm, and struggled to come up with a reply that might salvage even a scrap of her dignity, but her mouth was far too preoccupied at that moment to form words.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this relaxed," said the Prowler. "You really did need a good molesting, didn't you?"
The Prowler slowly pulled her fingers out of Twilight's mouth, and a satisfying slurping noise filled the room as they parted.
"You sure are lucky I was willing to give you one," said the Prowler, "even after you were so rude to me."
The Prowler shifted position, laying down directly on top of Twilight, smooshing their breasts together and looking Twilight straight in the eye.
"You were saying such awful things about me earlier," said the Prowler, "calling me a bad guy...just 'cause I like giving little mares like you the hard fucks they need." She reached up and put a hand on Twilight's face, gently squishing her cheeks together. "After that, I really should have just sent you home...all needy and unsatisfied...but I didn't. Heck, I even let you cum first! I don't usually do that. You're lucky I'm such a forgiving mare." She leaned in and placed a gentle peck on Twilight's forcefully puckered lips. "Still...I think I'd like to hear a 'thank you' after everything I've done for you. Think you can do that, Twi? Say 'thank you'." She released Twilight's face, giving Twilight the opportunity to speak.
By this time, Twilight's senses had returned to her, at least enough for her to recognize the humiliation of the request. Her earlier anger, her disgust, and her righteous indignation hovered on the edge of her mind, acknowledged, but unheeded. Instead, it was her lingering cum-drunkenness, her newfound submissiveness, and an odd sense of reflexive politeness that chose her words for her.
You...monster. You...pervert. You...dirty mare-molester. I'll never...I'll never say...
"Thank you," said Twilight in a breathy whisper.
The Prowler's grin widened, and she chuckled devilishly. "Good girl," she said, patting Twilight's head.
The Prowler slowly pushed herself up off of Twilight, then rose to her feet, standing beside the mattress. She strode over to where she had left her drink and took a few quick gulps, before glancing back at Twilight. "Whew!" she remarked as she took in the sight of the sweaty, half-naked mare lying before her. "I sure made a mess of you, didn't I?"
Twilight swallowed, despite her dry mouth. Summoning her strength, and her courage, she slowly lifted her head up off of the pillow, looking down at her body. She let out a shuddering gasp as she beheld the glistening saliva slathered all over her breasts, and her shorts, which had been soaked through by the massive amount of marecum she had been leaking. Her cheeks reddened as she stared at that dark, wet spot at her crotch, and could only imagine what her panties must have looked like. She didn't have to wait long to find out, however.
"Here," said the Prowler, setting aside their drink, "why don't we get those off of you?"
Twilight's gaze rose to the Prowler's grinning face as her tormentor approached the mattress once more, kneeling down between Twilight's legs.
"Wait!" said Twilight, her voice still weary and weak.
The Prowler ignored her plea, quickly scooting up to Twilight's hips and reaching for her shorts. It took only an instant for the Prowler to undo the button, and an instant more for her to pull down the short zipper.
"Don't!" said Twilight. "I...I..." The poor, conflicted mare wasn't sure whether it would have been more shameful to continue wearing the cum-soiled garment or to remove it. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to feel that shame or not.
Regardless of Twilight's feelings, the Prowler wasted no time in taking hold of those shorts and pulling them down, revealing the undergarment beneath. While Rarity had, out of habit, offered Twilight several pairs of stylish panties that would have gone well with the rest of her provocative attire, Twilight had elected to stick with her usual undergarment: just a plain, off-white pair of cotton panties. Like their owner, they were practical, functional, and modest; they might have even been called "chaste", had the entirety of their crotch region not been wet with Twilight's love juices.
"Aww...did the little filly get her panties all wet?" said the Prowler with a babyish inflection, as if she were speaking to a toddler or a little animal. "Don't sweat it, Twi. I won't tell anyone."
Twilight looked away from the lewd sight of her drenched panties, feeling the warmth in her cherry-red cheeks. Meanwhile, the Prowler pulled Twilight's shorts all the way down her legs and over her high-heeled shoes, before casually tossing them aside.
The Prowler sat there silently for a moment, smiling contentedly as her lecherous eyes wandered over the body of her most recent conquest. "You know, Twilight," she said, "you remind me a lot of the little nerdy fillies I went to high school with." She took hold of Twilight's legs at the knees, using them to gently pull Twilight down the mattress, stopping when Twilight's head had slid off of the pillow. "I fucked all kinds of fillies back in those days...popular fillies, sporty fillies, goth fillies...but I think the nerdy fillies were my favorites." As she said this, she took hold of Twilight and slowly rolled her onto her belly, positioning the weary mare so that her head rested just below the pillow. "Wanna know why?" She casually grabbed Twilight's tattered tube top from the back, pulling it up and off of Twilight and tossing it aside.
Twilight remained silent, although the images that flashed through her mind as the Prowler spoke of her sexual exploits made her quiver.
The Prowler suddenly leaned down, placing her hands on Twilight's shoulders and pressing her lips against Twilight's ear. "It's cause all those little nerds," she whispered, "all those prim, proper little fillies with their big glasses and their dorky sweaters and their...um...oh, what do you call 'em? Those...pocket-pencil thingies?"
"Pocket protector," replied Twilight reflexively, unable to resist correcting someone's vocabulary even in such inappropriate circumstances as that.
"Whatever," said the Prowler. "The point is...those fillies always acted like they didn't care about sex. All they ever talked about was math and science and colleges and boring stuff like that. They acted like they weren't as horny as all the other little sluts I played around with." One of her hands left Twilight's shoulder, slowly moving downwards. "They put up a good act, I'll admit...but it was just an act. As it turned out...those little nerds were the biggest...horinest...thirstiest little sluts in the whole school!" Her wandering hand passed over Twilight's bound wrists, arriving at the pert little ass beneath them. "I'm honestly surprised I didn't realize it sooner than I did. I figured it out eventually, though." She grasped the top of Twilight's panties. "I realized those fillies were squealing a little bit too hard...when I gave them their wedgies!"
With a powerful tug, the Prowler yanked Twilight's panties high into the air, the soft, sodden fabric tightening against the sensitive, freshly-fucked marehood it was meant to protect. The jolt of painful pleasure that shot up Twilight's spine made her spasm reflexively, and her eyes went wide as she let out a shocked yelp. Of course, the mental shock of being subjected to such a humiliating, juvenile torment struck her just as deeply.
"They fucking loved it," the Prowler said, giving Twilight's panties several tiny, gentle tugs as she continued, teasing her tender pussy with little tingles of pleasure. "They loved it when I'd pull their panties against their needy little pussies." She gave a sharp tug, eliciting another yelp from Twilight, then continued as before. "They loved it when I'd yank down their skirts and show everyone their cute little asses." Another yank; another squeal. "They loved it when I'd come up behind them and grope their little sweater puppies." The next yank drew out a whimpering moan. "They especially liked it when I'd put them up against a wall and give their braces a nice, long tongue-polishing...right in front of everyone." Three yanks came in quick succession, each stronger then the last; the three accompanying squeals mirrored them.
The Prowler chuckled as she watched Twilight quiver and pant beneath her. Whether out of mercy or boredom, she suddenly released Twilight's panties, giving the little egghead a temporary reprieve. "Long story short," she said, "those fillies were all little closet sluts, even before I got my hands on 'em...and kinky as hell too! You should've heard some of the stuff they begged me to do to them once I got 'em alone in a bathroom stall or the locker room! Lucky for them...I was more than happy to provide." She reached down between Twilight's legs and gently stroked her tender lips, making her moan softly. "I used to wonder why the biggest eggheads were always the biggest pervs. I stopped questioning it eventually, and learned to just enjoy it. There is one thing I'm still curious about though." She pressed her face against Twilight's, looking into her half-lidded eyes as she continued to tease her trembling marehood. "Are you like that too, Twilight? Are you some kinky little turbo-slut...just pretending to be a good, well-behaved egghead? Have you just been waiting for a big, strong mare like me to come along...and give you everything your pervy little heart's been wanting?" She grinned. "I think you are, Twilight. I really, really do."
The fingers playing with Twilight's marehood suddenly fell still, and then were removed; Twilight felt a profound bittersweet feeling at their departure. A moment later, the Prowler got up on her hands and knees, then crawled further up the mattress. Twilight's hazy eyes followed her as she made her way to the pillow, then plopped her sexy, blue buns down onto it, sitting with her legs spread wide to either side of Twilight. For several moments, Twilight stared at the big, beautiful pussy sitting just a scant few inches away from her face, those lips slick with sweat and leaking juices. When Twilight saw the Prowler reach a hand down and slowly stroke those lips in an undeniably erotic display, she slowly looked up, up to where the Prowler's smug, confident grin sat upon her face.
"So, how 'bout it, Twi?" said the Prowler. "Are you ready to stop pretending? Are you ready to admit you're just as much of a dirty little whore as all those other mares I've molested? I already know you are...and I think you know it too. In fact, I'm so sure about it that...I'll even make you a deal."
The Prowler removed their hand, giving Twilight an unimpeded look at her pussy. "If I'm wrong," she began, "if you really are the perfect little egghead that everyone thinks you are...then you win. You win...and I'll give you exactly what you said you wanted when I brought you up here. I'll clean you up. I'll take you home. I'll even take off my mask, and you can have the guards haul me away. You can be a big hero, and everypony in town will love you. You can even write to the princess and tell her what a good job you did catching me. I bet she'll be so proud of you."
As the Prowler continued, her carefree smile, while not disappearing, took on an intense, sinister quality. "On the other hand," she said, her tone matching her expression, "if I'm right...if you are the pervy little slut we both know you are...then your ass is mine. Your ass...your tits...that slutty little pussy of yours...it all belongs to me...and I'll use 'em however I want. I'll use your sexy little body in ways you couldn't even dream of. I'll fuck you so hard that it'll make what I did to those other mares look like a handshake by comparison. I'll put you through every naughty fantasy you've ever imagined...and every fantasy I've ever imagined. I'll give you exactly what you've always wanted...you little slut."
The Prowler's demeanor relaxed, and her smile returned to being merely smug. "So what's it gonna be?" she said. "I don't have all night, you know. You don't even have to say it, if you're too embarrassed. Just come over here, right between my legs...and show me how much you want me. Don't be shy! I don't bite...not very hard, anyway."
Twilight looked from the Prowler, to her pussy, then back again, struggling to sort through the dozens of questions swirling through her mind. Could the Prowler possibly be telling the truth? Would she actually turn herself in if Twilight stood up to her? Would Twilight get to rip that mask off of her smug face and finally learn who the vile mare-molester truly was? Most important of all...is that what she really wanted? Did she really want the Prowler to submit to her or...did she want the opposite? Did she want to cast aside her responsibilities, her duties, her dignity, and her self-respect...and give her needy body the brain-breaking pleasure that it still craved? What would happen if she did do that? What would the Prowler do to her...and what would she want the Prowler to do to her?
Twilight's reflexive response was to deny all of the horrible, degrading things the Prowler had said about her. She was Twilight Sparkle, for Celestia's sake, not some sex-crazed bimbo! She was a national hero, Princess Celestia's favorite student, and a respected member of the community. She had won the "Librarian of the Year" award for her efforts to promote literacy among Ponyville's fillies and colts. Her books were more well-organized than those of the Canterlot Public Library. She had gotten straight 'A's ever since kindergarten. Any way you looked at her, she was the model for what a respectable young mare should be: responsible, intellectual, well-groomed and, above all else, modest. There was no way in a thousand years that she would ever willingly submit to the perversions of a villainous mare-molester...right?
Twilight felt her pussy tremble, and she slowly looked back down. She was all of those things, she thought to herself, but she was also much more. She was Twilight Sparkle, the mare who probably had more smut hidden under her bed than everypony else in Ponyville put together. She was the mare who had asked her favorite foalsitter to bathe with her, even after she had been much too old for such things, just so she could get a look at the older girl's mature, feminine body. She was the mare who had pilfered her older brother's underwear from his dirty laundry, sneaking it away to her room to keep her company on lonely nights. She was the mare who had asked the princess to tutor her on pony anatomy, just so she could hear that beautiful, silken voice form the words "breasts", "buttocks", and "vagina". Most relevant of all, she was the mare who had spent the past two weeks touching herself while thinking of everything the Prowler had done to her voluptuous victims...and everything the Prowler might do to a little mare like her.
Twilight looked upon the Prowler's pussy once more, gazing at it, as if it were the most important thing in the entire world.She pored over the gentle slopes and curves of that beautiful flesh, and as she did so, she felt the profound urge to study it more closely, it being such a perfect specimen of female anatomy. After all, she was an egghead through and through, but she was also, as she slowly realized, a grade-A slut, just a needy little mare who wanted to touch and be touched, a mare who wanted to experience the irresistible pussy before her not with the cold, dispassionate touch of a scientist, but with the loving, worshipful caress of a lover. She wanted it...and she needed it. Her little heart fluttered as she realized this...realized that she was already right where she belonged, right there between those sexy, blue legs...and that there was nowhere she would rather have been.
I'm sorry, Ponyville.
Twilight squirmed, slowly and awkwardly crawling forward.
I'm sorry, mayor.
Twilight drew nearer to her goal, getting close enough that her hot breaths caressed those slick lips.
I'm sorry, princess.
Twilight paused, her eyes locked on the succulent flesh before her. She wasn't sure if it was because of dehydration, exhaustion, or simple, overwhelming lust, but in a moment of delirium, she could have sworn she saw those lower lips give her the same smug, triumphant grin as the lips on the Prowler's face.
I...I...I...
As Twilight's will finally broke, she darted forward, burying her face into her new owner's pussy.
Twilight's lips met those of the Prowler in a kiss as binding and irrevocable as that shared by a bride and groom on their wedding day. She could never go back. She could never undo what she had done. She had made her choice, and she would have to live with it for the rest of her life.
None of this registered in Twilight's mind, however, for the instant her lips touched that plump, juicy pussy, she forgot all else. Her lingering thoughts of her friends, her duties, and her town were swept away by a tide of carnal delight that she savored with all five of her senses. She felt the heavenly soft skin against her face, nuzzling it needily, and basking in the incredible warmth of it. She breathed in the potent, feminine musk, shivering as that overpowering aroma filled her lungs. She tasted the incomparable flavor of a mare, her eager tongue slipping out of her mouth to lap at the warm juices leaking out. She savored the soft, wet squelching of that slick flesh as she kissed and licked it. She gazed upon it through half-lidded eyes, watching it clench and quiver reflexively in response to her fervent ministrations.
The Prowler made a sound that was half triumphant chuckle, and half pleasured moan. "I knew you'd make the right choice," she said, placing a strong, but gentle hand on Twilight's head.
With every second that passed, Twilight fell deeper and deeper into her own ecstasy, allowing it to swallow her up and consume her. The sheer thrill of tasting that pussy, the first she had ever touched, (other then her own, of course,) was unlike any she had ever experienced before. She had wielded magical powers beyond pony understanding on multiple occasions, but even such arcane feats as those had never made her spine tingle, made her toes curl, or made her little heart pound in quite the same way as they did then. Within moments, she was addicted, and mindlessly threw herself into her appointed task, allowing her long-repressed carnal urges to direct her increasingly wild pussy-worship.
The Prowler moaned and sighed contentedly as Twilight serviced her, but also chuckled at her new toy's clear inexperience. "C'mon, Twi...you slutty little egghead," she said. "Really get in there!" As she said this, she gripped the bases of Twilight's twintails and used them like handles to pull Twilight closer, mashing Twilight's face into her pussy.
Twilight let out a whimpering moan at this domineering act, although she was muffled by the plump pussy smooshed against her mouth. She was momentarily stunned by the clenching of her moistening marehood, but quickly recovered, and renewed her carnal assault. Despite the lustful fire raging in her mind, she still had enough wits to recognize the command she had been given, and unquestioningly carried it out. Rather than lapping at those lips like a mindless, hungry animal, as she had been doing, Twilight now forced her tongue between them, savoring the sweet nectar slathered over the Prowler's pretty, pink petals, then plunged straight into her awaiting entrance.
The Prowler let out a shuddering moan. "Oh...yeah!" she cried, pulling Twilight closer still.
Twilight had spent many long hours "studying" the art of cunnilingus as depicted in her favorite works of erotic literature and, as one might expect of the organized mare, had devised a well-thought-out and highly detailed plan for optimal pussy-pleasing, one which she had never before had the opportunity to make use of. Unfortunately, Twilight was not at all in the proper mindset for doing anything methodically. Instead, Twilight merely worked her tongue deeper and deeper into the Prowler's pussy, fighting past the powerful clenches of her slick, velvety walls. Like a brave explorer, she went as deep into that uncharted territory as she could go, before allowing her tongue to run free, licking and lapping her way this way and that, determined to taste every inch, every little nook and cranny of that delicious pussy.
The Prowler signaled her approval with a myriad of moans, grunts, and muttered words of encouragement. "Oh, yeah! Oh...fuck, yeah!" she moaned. "Oh...good girl, Twi! Just like that! Just like that...you little slut!"
The Prowler's words drifted into Twilight's mind, the little unicorn not even registering their demeaning nature, only their positivity and approval.
Yes, I...I am a good girl.
Twilight had always been a good girl. When she was a little filly, she had been a good girl for her mother, always doing her chores, eating her vegetables, and telling her how much she loved her. Later in life, she had been a good girl for the princess, studying hard, doing all her homework, and bringing her favorite teacher a big, juicy apple every day. Now, lying between the sculpted, sexy legs of the Prowler, she continued to be a good girl, eagerly and obediently worshiping the body of her new mistress.
Mistress. Is that who she is now? Is that what I'll call her?
Twilight dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it popped into her head, not caring for the answer. She would call the Prowler Auntie Butterscotch if she was ordered to. So long as the Prowler allowed her to savor her sexy body, Twilight didn't care about anything else.
As the minutes slowly passed by, and Twilight continued to vent her years of bottled-up lust upon the Prowler's pussy, her own needy marehood began to ache for similar attention. Every clench around her tongue, every trickle of mare juices she tasted, and every bestial grunt that came from the Prowler's lips further inflamed the little unicorn, quickly driving her mad. Twilight squirmed and trembled upon the mattress, desperately wishing that she could reach between her legs and plunge a finger or five into her leaking lips, but with her hands still bound behind her back, she was powerless to do so. The denial of pleasure aggravated her to no end, but it also further motivated her to please the Prowler, as she knew the only way she would be able to get off was if she allowed her to.
Thankfully, the Prowler soon took notice of Twilight's plight, savoring the sight of Twilight's hips humping the mattress in a desperate attempt to get any kind of stimulation. "Aww...does my little fucktoy wanna get off?" she said in between moans.
Twilight cracked her eyes and looked up, staring at the Prowler's grinning face as she continued to pleasure her pussy.
The Prowler smirked at the needy, pleading look she saw in Twilight's eyes, clearly reveling in the control she had over the poor little mare. "Why don't you ask me real nicely...and...and I'll think about it," she said, speaking through her moans. "C'mon, slut...just...just say 'please'. Can you do that?"
Twilight was much too far gone at that point to care about her dignity, and so immediately responded to the humiliating request.
Please! Please...get me off!
Unfortunately, with her tongue still buried deep in the Prowler's pussy, Twilight's words were no more than unintelligible moans.
"What was that?" said the Prowler. "I...I didn't quite catch that."
Please! Please, just...just let me cum!
Twilight's words, while more emphatic, were no more intelligible than before.
"Sorry, can't hear ya!" the Prowler said. "You really gotta speak up if you want me to—"
PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF CELESTIA, JUST MAKE ME CUM! TOUCH ME, GROPE ME, FUCK ME, ANYTHING! JUST PLEASE MAKE ME CUM!
The Prowler's smug grin momentarily faltered, so stunned was she by the intensity of Twilight's plea, by the needy trembling of her body, and by the tears welling up in her eyes. She quickly recovered, however, smiling down at Twilight and chuckling warmly. "Alright, Twi, calm down!" she said. "I hear you. You just keep bein' a good little pussy-pleaser and...and I'll give you what you deserve."
Twilight's heart leapt at this, and she immediately redoubled her efforts, pistoning her tongue in and out of the Prowler's pussy with crazed intensity. The Prowler's moans and groans immediately grew louder, and she bit her lip to stifle them. The Prowler released Twilight's mane, but quickly wrapped her powerful legs around Twilight's head, squeezing tightly to let her know that she wouldn't be going anywhere. The Prowler's great wings, which had been twitching and trembling like the rest of her, gradually began to unfurl, soon extending to their full, impressive span, and flapped reflexively when Twilight touched the Prowler's most sensitive spots.
True to her word, the Prowler soon rewarded her little sex-pet with some much-desired pleasure of her own. With Twilight securely leg-locked, she was free to reach down Twilight's back, once again taking hold of her panties. Twilight whimpered as she felt this, realizing what the Prowler had in store for her. Despite this, Twilight still squealed when the Prowler gave her panties a hard yank, and her aching pussy was squeezed against their soft, wet fabric. The Prowler waited a few moments for the pleasure radiating through Twilight's body to settle, loosening her hold slightly, then yanked again, repeating this process over and over again.
"You...You like that...little slut?" the Prowler moaned.
Twilight could do nothing but moan in response, although slowly arched her back as the Prowler played with her, pushing her little purple ass up into the air. Taking this as encouragement, the Prowler began to torment that vulnerable rump even more ruthlessly, yanking Twilight's panties so hard that the sound of popping seams could be heard with every pull. Although, the sounds of ripping were mostly drowned out by the wails of painful pleasure that Twilight made every time she felt her panties rub against her quivering lips, and against the delicate, sensitive petals within.
"You went to some smart kids' school in Canterlot...didn't you?" the Prowler said. "Bet you didn't get many of these there, did you?"
Twilight had indeed not received any wedgies during her time at Princess Celestia's School for Gifted Unicorns, the school having been a respectable institution full of respectable fillies and colts, not the sort of place where such abhorrent activities as schoolyard bullying would be allowed to occur. This inexperience had led Twilight to think of such torments as strange, exotic and, though she never would have admitted it, a bit exciting. More than once during her youth, she had entertained the exhilarating fantasy of a bigger, stronger mare cornering her and doing whatever she pleased with her, a fantasy that paled in comparison to the domineering treatment she was currently experiencing.
With one hand, the Prowler yanked Twilight's panties high into the air, the abused garment pulled so far between Twilight's soft, purple cheeks that they more closely resembled a thong than the modest undergarment they had once been. With her panties out of the way, the pink, six-pointed stars that decorated the sides of Twilight's ass were fully exposed. "Well...lemme give you the public school experience!" said the Prowler, before raising their free hand high into the air, then sending it hurtling down towards Twilight's vulnerable buns, right onto her cutie mark.
The thunderous crack of the Prowler's palm colliding with Twilight's ass was loud, but only slightly louder than the sharp squeal Twilight let out as the pain jolted through her. Twilight was momentarily stunned, and her tongue fell still, but as the sheer eroticism of her humiliating abuse sank in, she let out a whimpering moan, and got right back to work.
That little cloudy room was soon filled with a symphony of erotic noises, one which increased in tempo and volume with every minute that passed. There was the sharp crack of the hard spanks delivered to both of Twilight's buns, and the accompanying squeals of pained pleasure. There was the harsh ripping of fabric as Twilight's panties were yanked higher and higher, and she moaned and whimpered in response. There were the soft, wet squelches of two burning-hot marepussies, one worshiped and the other abused, but both thoroughly enjoying the spine-tingling pleasure they experienced. Of course, there were also the myriad of moans, grunts, whimpers, wails, and other indescribable noises that came from the mouths of the two mares, each one eagerly pushing the other to greater heights of sexual ecstasy.
"You...You gonna...gonna cum, Twi?" said the Prowler, barely able to speak through her moans. "Little slut gonna cum from...from being wedgied?"
Twilight moaned, although she wasn't sure whether that moan was meant as an affirmative, as an appreciation of the mind-blowing ecstasy of her sexual domination, as a response to feeling her panties grinding against her aching pussy and her virgin asshole, or all three at once.
"C'mon, Twi...just...just a little more!" the Prowler said. "I'm...I'm almost..."
Despite her inexperience, Twilight could clearly tell that the Prowler was nearing her climax, her smug, confident mask slipping, revealing the burning need concealed behind it. Her tongue was already aching from exhaustion, but still, she pressed on, driven by the all-consuming desire to be a good little slut and make her owner cum as hard as possible.
"That's it!" the Prowler moaned, giving Twilight's panties another hard yank, and her ass a firm squeeze. "That's it! Cum with me, Twi! Cum with me...you slutty little egghead!"
After all of that teasing and torture, Twilight, too, was rapidly nearing yet another orgasm, but unlike the first one, this one she recklessly charged towards at full speed, not caring for what might happen to her. Her body was trembling constantly from all of the sexual energy building up within her, just waiting to explode out. Her legs quivered, her hips twerked, and her eyes clamped shut in anticipation. She was so close...so close. She just needed one more little push...one more straw to break the pony's back...
That push came in the form of the Prowler who, having reached the end of her considerable endurance, crashed head-on into an orgasm as explosive and as thrilling as a sonic rainboom. She threw back her head and let loose a long, wailing scream of ecstasy that filled Twilight's ears, drowning out all else. Her body tensed and trembled, her pussy clamping down on Twilight's tongue and her strong legs constricting around Twilight's head, squeezing the little unicorn like a stress ball. Her powerful wings flapped hard, turning the inside of that cloud into a veritable wind tunnel. From within her quivering, clenching cunt flowed forth not a trickle, not a river, but an entire tsunami's worth of hot, wet marecum, which rushed directly into Twilight's waiting mouth. Last, but certainly not least, she grabbed hold of Twilight's ass with one hand, clinging to it for dear life, and with the other, gave Twilight's panties one last climactic pull, giving her a wedgie so brain-breakingly intense that it went well past "atomic" and into power levels that only a certified egghead like Twilight could have come up with a proper term for.
Twilight wasn't sure which of these sexual stimuli pushed her over the edge, and she didn't have time to consider the question, for the very next moment, Twilight was enveloped in the electric embrace of her own life-changing climax. She unleashed a shrieking howl of primal lust loud enough to make her ears ache, even muffled by the Prowler's plump pussy. Every inch of her body, from the tips of her scrunching toes to the crown of her little egg-head burned with pleasure unlike any she had ever experienced, even making her previous orgasm feel mild by comparison. She writhed and wriggled upon the mattress as if she were having a seizure, but locked between the Prowler's legs as she was, she could do nothing but continue to pleasure that pussy, and try not to drown in the ocean of marecum that she eagerly gulped down. Her brain cracked like a walnut under the sheer force of the pleasure radiating from her punished pussy as the Prowler pulled harder and harder, and her panties were wedged deeper and deeper between her lips, going so far that she felt like they were rubbing up against her womb, until at last...
*RIIIIIIIIIIIIP*
Twilight's poor, abused panties, which had valiantly withstood an entire school career's worth of wedgies that night, finally succumbed to the Prowler's unstoppable might, its sopping-wet fabric tearing as easily as tissue paper. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the panties broke in two, severing the connection between the two mares so abruptly that the Prowler fell backwards onto the soft, fluffy floor behind her. Caught off guard by this, the Prowler's firm leglock loosened, allowing Twilight to take several quick, gasping breaths. With her back resting upon the floor, and her ass still resting on the pillow, the Prowler gave one final quiver, squirting one last burst of marecum onto Twilight's face, then finally fell still.
The two mares lay like that for an unknown amount of time as their climactic orgasms receded, allowing them to bask in the soothing warmth of their afterglow. Both of their little pussies continued to tremble and clench sporadically, releasing slow trickles of marecum and sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through their limp, sweaty bodies. The Prowler had a weary grin on her face as she lay there, half-on and half-off the mattress, her wings flapping reflexively beneath her. Twilight, too, trembled as she lay there, her handprint-covered ass still high in the air, and her thoroughly cum-drenched face pressed against the pillow, lying in a puddle of saliva and marecum. Their screams having faded away, that peaceful quiet was broken solely by the sounds of their heavy, panting breaths, and by the sounds of their hearts pounding in their respective ears.
The Prowler was the first to recover, predictably. After taking a brief rest, she managed to stir her weary body to life again, rolling over onto her side. As she pushed herself up on shaky limbs, she realized that she was still clutching one half of Twilight's ripped, soiled panties in her fist, and she chuckled a soft chuckle at this. As she looked over at Twilight, looking upon the once-respectable mare's cum-drunk expression, the makeup running down her cheeks, and the marecum dripping from her lips, her snoot, and even from her horn, she felt a primal, animalistic thrill of dominance, and her pussy clenched in response.
Twilight, meanwhile, could only watch through hazy, half-lidded eyes as the Prowler slowly rose to her feet. Her little egg-head having been fried over easy by her orgasm, it took her a while to process her situation. She could feel the sweat dripping down her trembling, jelly-like limbs. She could feel the fading sting of the spankings her little purple rump had been subjected to. She could feel the marecum slathered all over her face, and oozing from the corners of her mouth. As her wits slowly returned to her, she thought to herself that she had heard tell of mares who squirted when they came, but had never imagined that such mares were capable of gushing such great geysers of marecum in a single climax. Suddenly, the thorough cum-drenchings the Prowler's previous victims had received did not seem as implausible as she had previously thought.
"You...You like that?" said the Prowler, her voice weary, but as smug as ever. "Little egghead liked being broken in?" She slowly walked around the mattress, approaching Twilight's exposed hindquarters. "As if I even need to ask."
Twilight suddenly felt the Prowler's hand upon her, and she realized that the front half of her ruined panties were still clinging to her groin, wedged between her pussy lips and plastered to her skin by the gallons of marecum she had released. The Prowler grasped the tattered garment and slowly peeled it off of Twilight's body. As she did so, and Twilight felt the sodden fabric rub against her tender, sensitive marehood, a shiver ran up her spine, and she let out a weak, whimpering moan.
The Prowler examined the scraps of Twilight's panties, savoring the sight of her lewd trophy. "I hope you don't mind, but...I'll be keeping these," she said. "I don't think you'll want these back, anyway."
Twilight groaned at the addition of insult to injury, although it was far from a displeased exclamation.
The Prowler casually tossed Twilight's panties onto the floor, then stepped closer to her. Placing a foot on Twilight's upthrust rump, she gently pushed her limp body over. Twilight whimpered as she flopped over onto her back, lying there upon the mattress like a sexy, sweaty piece of meat. The Prowler took a moment to savor the sight of her, poring over the body of the quivering, cum-drenched egghead clad in nothing but her slutty high-heels, then slowly got down on all fours, crawling on top of her.
"So, Twilight," said the Prowler, staring down into the soiled face of her newest toy, "you got anything to say to the mare who just fucked your big brain out?"
The answer came easily to Twilight this time. This time, there was no internal struggle, no arguing with herself, no doubts over what the right path was. For the first time in a very long time, the little unicorn was completely without doubt, without worry, and without concern. She was not worried about stopping the latest in a long line of villains threatening the peace of Ponyville. She was not worried about meeting the imagined standards of her beloved mentor far away in Canterlot. She was not even worried about what sort of rough, degrading, and incredibly exhilarating torments the Prowler would put her through next. In that moment, the anxious, neurotic little egghead was completely and totally at peace. She loved that feeling...and she loved the one who had given it to her.
"Thank you...mistress," said Twilight, her voice a breathy whisper.
The Prowler chuckled, shaking her head. "Mistress?" she said. "What did I say? Closet sluts, all of you."
The Prowler lowered her head, pressing her lips to Twilight's. Once again, the Prowler's tongue invaded Twilight's mouth, and while it was as firm and dominant in its motions as it had been before, it was also slow and attentive, like the gentle petting of a beloved pet's head by their owner. The promise of rough, brutal, yet loving dominance that kiss conveyed was not lost on Twilight, and she moaned softly as she accepted it into her heart.
After swirling her tongue around Twilight's mouth for a minute, savoring the taste of her own marecum on another mare's lips, the Prowler broke their kiss with a wet pop. She grinned down at the soiled, yet sexy face of her little plaything, before placing one last little smooch on the tip of Twilight's snoot.
"Why don't you take five, Twi," said the Prowler as she climbed off of Twilight and rose to her feet, "then we can get started for real."
Twilight's eyes widened at this, scaroused at the implication of the comment. "Huh?" she groaned, looking up at the Prowler.
The Prowler was already walking away, but paused briefly, looking back down at Twilight. "Well, yeah," she said. "That was just a warm-up. I gotta go move the cloud real quick so nobody finds us, but when I get back –" she smiled a smile that sent a shiver down Twilight's spine, and a quiver through her pussy "– that's when the real fun begins."
The moon hung high over the little town of Ponyville, surrounded by a blanket of twinkling stars. The pale illumination of that great orb filtered down onto the town far below, but unlike most other nights, it did not fall upon still, quiet lanes or upon the heads of the odd night owl making their way home through the gloom. Rather, the moon shone down upon the town square, where its gentle light was overpowered by the warm, friendly glow of the dozens of festive lanterns that decorated the place. In the light of those lanterns, dozens of ponies met and mingled with one another, laughing at bad jokes, sampling the snacks filling the many snack tables, and dancing enthusiastically, if not skillfully, to the cheerful, rustic music of the band. Altogether, the revelers created quite a din, disturbing the otherwise peaceful quiet of the evening, but they could be forgiven for this; Ponyville's autumn harvest festival only came around once a year, after all.
Standing in the shadows a ways away from the fun, unseen, but seeing all, was a young mare by the name of Twilight Sparkle. Her pretty face, adorned with a soft smile, was framed by her neatly styled mane of dark blue, as usual. More unusual was her attire, the mare's petite frame being concealed beneath an unassuming, gray trench coat which covered everything from her neck down to her knees. The only other part of her ensemble to be seen was the pair of black, high-heeled shoes she wore, another unusual fashion choice for the modest, practical mare.
Twilight chuckled softly as she looked upon the familiar faces of her friends and neighbors, watching them make fools of themselves on the dance floor, help themselves to a little too much apple cider, or share smooches with their sweethearts when they thought nopony else was watching. It was all so carefree, she thought to herself, so uninhibited, but she did not fault them for that. Everypony deserved to cut loose and enjoy themselves once in a while; she would be quite the hypocrite to say otherwise. Besides, it was not as if they had anything to fear, being out late at night as they were. The streets of Ponyville were safe, and had been for weeks, all thanks to her.
The ponies of Ponyville had, of course, been quite on edge the night Twilight had been abducted by the Prowler, especially her friends, who had been up all night looking for her. When Twilight had staggered back into town the next morning, she had caused quite a stir, and not just because she had been weary, smelly, disheveled, and wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants that were not hers. The concern of the townsponies had quickly turned to joy, however, when Twilight had told them of her epic confrontation with the Prowler, which had ended with the villain's complete and utter defeat. The Prowler, which Twilight had discovered to be nothing more than the deranged mirror pool clone of an unknown pony, had put up quite a fight, pushing the little unicorn to her magical limits. The tale of this great battle might have seemed far-fetched to some, but the ponies of Ponyville, who had seen firsthand what the products of the mirror pool were capable of, were more than willing to believe it. They were happy enough knowing that Twilight had banished the clone back to the pool, where it would never bother the town ever again.
In the wake of the Prowler's defeat, things in Ponyville had quickly gone back to normal, its citizens returning to the quiet, peaceful lives they were accustomed to. Applejack was busy with her orchard, and was currently harvesting a big, beautiful crop of juicy apples. Rarity had successfully debuted her fall line, which had proven quite popular amongst the local mares. Rainbow Dash had continued her Wonderbolts training, and had developed a much better attitude about it that she used to have; supposedly, she had found an excellent way of de-stressing after a long week of strenuous, mind-numbing drills. Twilight had gone back to her old life of reading books, learning about friendship, and being the respectable, dependable little unicorn everyone knew her to be, although Spike had mentioned that she seemed much happier, much more relaxed, and much less prone to her characteristic freak-outs than she used to be. Twilight typically dismissed such comments, despite knowing in her heart that it was very much true.
As Twilight watched the harvest festival from afar, she saw mothers and fathers occasionally leave the square, carrying sleepy and sleeping children in their arms as they made their way home for the night. The sight reminded Twilight of how late it was getting, and reminded her that she had a little party of her own to attend that night. A sudden breeze blew past her, the gentle, yet chilly gust of an autumn night. The wind snuck beneath the bottom of her coat, running up her bare legs like a lecherous hand, reaching for the warmth between them. She shivered, pulling her coat tighter around herself, but grinned in excited anticipation. She took one last look at the festival, then quietly slipped away into the shadows.
The lights and sounds of the festival quickly faded away as Twilight made her way down the streets of Ponyville, and before long, she was surrounded by nothing but still, silent houses and storefronts. Just a few minutes after leaving the town square, she had arrived at a certain unremarkable alleyway nestled between two unremarkable buildings. She paused before it, taking a quick glance up and down the street, ensuring that she was well and truly alone. Seeing nopony else nearby, she grinned eagerly, then swiftly stepped into the alleyway.
Once inside, she slowed, walking at a casual, almost carefree pace, as if she were in no hurry to walk out the other side. She hummed softly as she passed by trash cans and bits of litter, moving with a notable sway to her hips that highlighted her alluring figure. It might have seemed like a pointless display to some; after all, there was nopony else there to see it...right?
Twilight did not hear the pair of wings silently slicing through the air behind her; she never did, but that just made it all the more exciting, never knowing the exact moment when...
Twilight cried out in surprise as she suddenly felt a body press up against her back, and a pair of strong arms wrap around her, locking her in a possessive embrace. Her shock quickly dissipated, but her excitement only increased as she felt a tongue make its way to her neck, then slowly lick its way up to her chin.
"You're late," whispered a raspy voice.
A moment later, those strong arms grabbed Twilight and pushed her forcefully, but not painfully, up against the side of the alleyway, pinning her there with her back to the wall. A shiver ran up Twilight's spine as she looked up into the masked face of the Ponyville Prowler.
Twilight gulped. "I'm sorry..." she began, her lips slowly stretching into a smile, "mistress."
A hungry, lecherous grin appeared on the face of the Prowler as she stood before Twilight, easily reading those eager eyes of hers. She allowed herself a quick chuckle, then darted forward, locking lips with Twilight in a rough, forceful kiss. Twilight's eyes fluttered closed, and she moaned into the Prowler's mouth, savoring every second of her oral domination.
It had been a simple arrangement the two had reached, one which had ensured that everypony, from Twilight, to the Prowler, to the townsponies, and even the princess, had gotten what they wanted. Twilight had always been good at coming up with plans, although the one she had devised while lying half-conscious on a cum-stained mattress had been a particularly impressive one, given that she had come up with it after having her brains fucked out of her, then fucked back into her, and then fucked back out of her again for good measure. Thankfully, the Prowler had been in a very agreeable mood by that point and, after considering Twilight's proposal, had agreed to go along with it, to Twilight's great delight.
Upon returning to Ponyville the morning after her abduction, Twilight had, as planned, told everyone of her defeat and subsequent banishment of the dastardly "mirror pool clone" that had been molesting the mares of town, an explanation that conveniently did not require her to drag the Prowler back in handcuffs for all to see. As expected, the townsponies had rejoiced at the news, hailing Twilight as a hero for saving the town once again. The townsponies had been happy, the royal guards had been happy at the investigation finally coming to a close, and even Princess Celestia had been happy, telling Twilight how proud she was of her for saving the day yet again.
Of course, that still left Twilight and the Prowler in need of satisfaction, although that proved to be the easiest part of the whole thing. Twilight, having experienced a molesting of life-changing proportions, had suddenly found herself in the need to experience such intense sexual domination on a regular basis. Meanwhile, the Prowler was still in need of horny, slutty mares to molest, preferably those who could give her exactly what she was looking for. Realizing that each of their problems could be used to solve the other, the two had proceeded to do just that, meeting up every Friday night for the past several weeks for another good, old-fashioned mare-molesting.
After spending several moments playfully bullying Twilight's tongue, the Prowler broke their passionate kiss, leaving a thin strand of saliva connecting their slick lips. "You know I'm gonna have to punish you for that," she said, smiling a sinister smile.
Twilight's moistening marehood clenched as she imagined what manner of punishment awaited her. "Oh, mistress...please don't punish me," said Twilight. "Please don't pin me down...spank me and...fuck me all night long. I'm a good girl...really!" It certainly wasn't an award-winning performance, but she wasn't really trying to fool anyone.
The Prowler chuckled. "Yeah, I guess you are...you little slut!" she said, before commencing another brief, yet heated make-out session with her favorite fucktoy. "I'm still gonna punish you though," she said after breaking the kiss.
Twilight gulped. "Yes, mistress," she said with a smile.
The Prowler quickly glanced up and down the alleyway. "Just you tonight?" she asked.
"Yes," Twilight replied.
Despite her thorough enjoyment of the little eggheaded unicorn who had quickly become her favorite sex-pet, the Prowler was not, and never really had been, big on monogamy. Luckily, Twilight had been more than willing to cater to her mistress' desires. As it turned out, there were many mares in Ponyville who were like Twilight used to be, mares in desperate need of a good, hard fuck, despite often not realizing it themselves. Twilight had kept an eye out for such mares over the past weeks, and would often reach out and invite one of them on a moonlit walk on Friday night, leading them down a certain dark alleyway to meet a certain "mirror pool clone". They always struggled at first, much to the Prowler's delight, but they would inevitably come around; the Prowler had never had an unsatisfied customer, or one who was unwilling to keep the secret...in exchange for the promise of a future appointment. While the Prowler no longer got to enjoy making public displays for them, for obvious reasons, having a constant supply of needy mares to "proactively date" had more than made up for that.
"I hope you don't mind, but...I wanted it to be just you and me tonight," said Twilight, batting her eyelashes.
The Prowler chuckled. "Okay," she said, "but you're gonna have to pick up the slack."
"Gladly," said Twilight.
The Prowler's gaze fell to Twilight's coat, and her smile faltered. "What's with the coat?" she said.
"Oh!" said Twilight. "I, uh...wore something special tonight."
The Prowler stepped back as Twilight reached for her trenchcoat, untying the belt, then pulling it apart, revealing what lay beneath it. A white, buttoned shirt covered the top half of Twilight's torso, tied off beneath her braless breasts, leaving her tummy bare. A loose microskirt of plaid coloration hugged her hips, the garment so revealing that it showed off the bottom of her soft, purple buns, and gave a glimpse of the chaste, pure, and wholesomely white cotton panties beneath. Twilight reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a pair of dorky, thick-rimmed glasses, which she quickly slipped on, completing the image.
"I'm...I'm ready for my lesson, Miss Prowler," said Twilight, squirming in anticipation.
For a moment, the Prowler merely gawked at the slutty schoolgirl before her. Then, her smile returned, as hungry and as lewd as ever. "Oh...I am so gonna enjoy ripping that off of you tonight," she said, licking her lips.
"Not as much as I'll enjoy it," said Twilight.
The Prowler stepped forward, wrapping her arms around the sexy little egghead before her and holding her tight. "You ready?" she said softly, her hot breath caressing Twilight's face.
Twilight gazed lovingly into the face of her mistress, which was covered by the same jet-black bandit mask it had been on their first night together. Even after their amorous armistice, the inquisitive Twilight still had moments where she wondered what lay beneath that mask. There had been more than one occasion when she could have easily reached out and plucked the mask from that face, but she had never done it. Inevitably, Twilight's desire to know who the pony was who had changed her life so dramatically, the pony who had given her the perverse pleasure that she had always secretly desired, was overpowered by her desire not to know. She had come to realize that that Prowler had been right after all: it was so much better not knowing who it was making her squeal and scream every Friday night.
The Prowler could have been anyone, a neighbor, a rival, or even a friend, but with that mask on, she was much more than any of those ponies could ever have been. She was a symbol, an icon, an embodiment of every naughty, perverse fantasy that respectable little mares such as Twilight tucked away in the recesses of their hearts. She was a veritable sex goddess, a supernatural force descended upon the world of mortals to fuck and be fucked, and there was nothing that the mares of Equestria could do about it but submit to her in mind, body, and soul, and enjoy every pleasurable second of doing so. Twilight certainly enjoyed it, and she was not about to ruin that experience for anyone, especially herself.
"So ready," said Twilight.
With a flap of wings, the two were off, shooting away into the night sky. Wind whistled through the alleyway, and trash cans rattled, then all was still and quiet.
As the night dragged on, the ponies of Ponyville slept peacefully in their beds, happy smiles adorning their faces. Meanwhile, high over their heads, two perverted little mares enjoyed the night together, a night which, despite not being so peaceful for them, brought even bigger smiles to their pretty little faces.
