Lyra and Bon Bon Commit Deicide
Andras was known for being something of a charmer. His charisma was unmatched for most stallions, and a lot of that came from the mysterious aura that he seemed to put out. Ponies wanted to know about him, ponies wanted to uncover his secrets, and he knew that this was the case and was more then prepared to exploit it to surround himself with some of the finest mares that Equestria had to offer.
Joining him today was one of the rulers of Equestria in the flesh. Princess Luna, a practical Goddess, and one of only a handful of alicorns that populated Equestria, and here she was hanging around a restaurant with some fairly common stallion like it was nothing. Of course, nobody was going to dare question a princess on what exactly they were doing in such a place, partly because it was rude and partly because she had enough magical power to completely obliterate someone from reality like it was nothing.
She was wearing a lovely midnight black dress that hugged around her form. Across from her was Trixie, almost the complete opposite of everything that Luna was. She was a blue unicorn mare with a two tone white and very light blue mane… A show mare, if the reports were to be believed, although none of the shows that she had put on had ever amounted to much.
Then, rounding out the mismatched selection of mares was Rarity, a rich fashion designer, and her ward, Sweetie Belle. Both the last two mares had fur that was white as snow, and had somehow managed to dress fancier then the Princess currently sat across from them.
Andras himself was a red stallion, dressed in a fine purple jacket with white ruffles sewn into it. He was sipping soundly from a glass of wine and laughing softly to himself, undoubtedly telling some kind of terrible joke to the mares around the table, who laughed in response.
Luna was an actual goddess, killing her was deicide, a crime that wasn’t even listed due to the grave nature of it. The midnight blue mare might not even be able to take a mortal wound. Bon Bon and Lyra couldn’t be sure that when they rose from their table to take all these ponies out, Luna wasn’t simply going to laugh the bullets off and then turn towards them and wipe them from reality with a wave of her hand, or that mane that seemed to flow and ebb, displaying a perfect reflection of the night sky, wasn’t simply going to soak up the bullets.
Still, Lyra and Bonbon were in this together. They held hands across the table, Bon Bon being thick and slightly toned, and Lyra being curvy, perky and in need of a good meal. They were in this together. It was a bit of a surprise that they had managed to make it this far, draped in hooded cloaks and waiting for the perfect moment to strike from a table towards the back.
Thankfully for them, the waiter hadn’t seemed to care, simply muttering something under his breath about lesbians and then hurrying off. With a silent nod, they sprung the trap, Bon Bon rose slightly faster, throwing off her cloak and exposing the rubber catsuit beneath as she drew the Thompson submachine gun to bear. Lyra was only slightly behind her, wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of blue jeans that made her look more like an office worker of some kind rather then a killer, but as she bought the uzi to bear, none of that mattered very much.
Andras’ was the first one to notice the immense danger that was about to unfold. His golden amber eyes, much darker then of Lyra flew wide as he began to fall from his chair, not attempting to make a move to stop them, not lighting up their horn or bothering to try and protect the mares at the table.
Bon Bon would have said something witty, quoted one of those movies or something of the sort, but they were about to find out if it was even possible to kill a Goddess, so there was no time for such things. Her .45 submachine gun roared to life, howling a song of death through the whole restaurant that instantly shattered any semblance of calm ambiance that might have been fostered there.
It was a good thing too, Luna moved a lot faster then either of them could have expected, launching herself up from her chair like some kind of rocket as her hands shot to the back of her dress. Thankfully, she also launched herself straight into a .45 round that ripped through her breast in a spray of blood, causing flesh to jiggle and a lung to be ripped open as she stumbled backwards, almost falling over her chair.
Ironically, if she had been a little more unsteady on her feet, she might have got them, because it would have put her on the floor and out of the line of fire. Instead she was soon ripped into by several more .45 rounds, tearing neat little holes through her, and ugly exit wounds that destroyed the straps on the back of her dress.
She was a lot tougher then any mare had the right to be however, and even after taking six rounds to the chest, she still managed to bring a pair of over sized hand guns to bare, one made out of a silver metal carved with her cutie-mark of a crescent moon, and the other made out of a gold metal engraved with her sister’s cutie-mark which was a sun.
Lyra had begun firing now too, the smaller 9mm rounds adding more holes to Luna as her large breasts jiggled from the impact, but even with her chest being shot by two separate ponies, she refused to go down, and fired off a round in their general direction as she bought her pistols to bear.
A force-field was starting to form around her, and although they couldn’t be certain, if she did manage to get the field up, there wouldn’t be very much that they could do to punch through it.
Thankfully, one of the .45 rounds finally found its way into her skull, and it didn’t matter how tough you were, getting your bell rung by a bullet was almost always fatal, and her sea green eyes rolled back in her head as she fell back against the bar, having stumbled her way all the way to it from the multiple rounds.
She went down in a heap, tongue lolling out, face locked in an expression of shock and breasts covered in small wounds from the rounds, although her back was likely much more of a mess thanks to the exit wounds.
Now BonBon began to sweep the group of mares that were still standing. Rarity was hit in the neck, likely impacting something vital if the large spray of blood was anything to go by. Sweetie Belle was quicker, throwing herself down to the ground and out of danger for now. Trixie actually managed to summon a soft purple bubble around herself, laughing while dressed up in her admittedly slutty show-mare outfit, tall heels and a bunny suit complete with a pair of soft blue rabbit ears attached to a headband.
“The Great And Powerful Trixie is FUCKING INVINCIBLE!” She declared with a flourish, right before a 9mm round tore right through the force field and hit her in the breast, which sprung free from out of the black velvet cup of her outfit, showing that she hadn’t even bothered to wear a bra.
Trixie let out a shocked gasp, both her hands moving to clutch at the wound as her mouth formed into a snarl. “Trixie is fucking dying and requires medical assistance!” She hissed, falling down next to one of the chairs.
Rarity had fallen back against the bar, both hands pressing a strip of fabric ripped from her beautiful white dress against her neck, although the strip of fabric wasn’t doing much to prevent the bleeding, crimson blood soaking through the thick fabric and dribbling down onto her pure white fur. Sweetie Belle, a mare with a two tone pink and purple mane, was attempting to drag her sister behind the bar counter.
She was a lot younger then Rarity, but since becoming an adult she had made quite the name for herself as a very respectable mare, and it was easy to see why, as besides the literal Goddess, she was the only mare that had bothered about protecting anyone else besides herself, and that was a very respectable trait.
Unfortunately respectable traits weren’t enough to stop bullets, and when a 45. round ripped through her skull she practically launched back against the bar. She had been wearing a large poofy white dress better suited to a wedding then a meal out, and as her body went into convulsions atop the oak counter, her legs frantically kicked and spread outwards, before a large yellow stain formed through the white material as her bladder emptied itself. If she hadn’t worn a pair of bright red high heels, she might have managed to make it out.
Rarity let out a gargled cry for her little sister, before a grim resolve settled into her rich blue eyes, She might have been a rich, upper class mare with a neatly curled purple mane and a love for gold digging by dating rich stallions, but nobody messed with her sister.
Forcing herself to her feet, she attempted to charge down the two mares before a spray of 9mm caught her in the chest, sending her tumbling over the counter top as her hands moved to clutch at the wounds, but there were far too many for her to slow the bleeding now, and as she thrashed about behind the bar, it was clear that she wasn’t going to make it out of this alive.
Meanwhile, Trixie had managed to flip the table over and was now using it for cover. It was a pretty smart plan, but she was too bold and hasty to make it work, coming up from behind the table with a pair of large pistols borrowed from the corpse of Luna, one held in each hand,.
Both guns roared, and over the ringing tinnitus roar of the guns, Trixie could be heard screaming something along the lines of ‘The Great and Powerful Trixie will see you in Tartarus’ followed by an unhinged cackle as her pupils dilated, the poor mare clearly having a mental breakdown from the intense stress of the situation she was in.
She actually managed to almost empty both the guns, and she didn’t break her wrists firing them, but her aim was nowhere near as good as her confidence, and she merely peppered the room around the two mares before her brain was ejected through the back of her skull by a bullet.
Unlike the other mares, she didn’t go down with some final florurish, instead it was as though she were a puppet that had just had its strings cut, the neat wounds punched in her forehead sending her down in a crumpled, broken heap that was honestly a little sad considering how close she had gotten to getting out of the situation alive.
The submachine guns of the two mares finally stopped, barrels smoking and heavy breathing, and although a lot had happened, this had all taken under ten seconds to transpire, and if it hadn’t been for some semblance of trigger discipline they both would have run out of bullets a lot sooner.
Slowly and calmly reloading, they ignored the sounds of screaming from around them and all the people rushing to leave the restaurant because the one target that they had come here for was making an escape.
Andras was crawling on his elbows and knees, shuffling along the carpeted floor in an attempt to get away from the two mares that didn’t work, because both of them were staring at him, Bon Bon’s rapid breathing visible through the tight leather catsuit that she was wearing as she raised the tommy gun towards him.
Andras gave a nervous noise as he stared towards them, before slowly climbing to his feet. He brushed his dirt brown mane back out of his face and tried to give his most charismata smile.
“Hello ladies! Can we talk about this? I know you must be pretty angry, but I can give you whatever you want. I have money, I have connections! You don’t have to do this!”
The two mares paused to look towards one another for a brief moment, then raised both their guns towards him in one practiced motion. He attempted to spew more words in a pointless attempt to save himself, but these were soon drowned out by the roar of gunfire, ripping through the air and the jacket that he was wearing with ease. He fell down against the cabinet behind him, the glass shattering as various expensive bottles of wine and whisky exploded into shards and spilled their contents all over the ground.
Blood dribbled from the stallions mouth as he fixed them a death glare. He didn’t seem all that scared to die considering just moments before he had been crawling around on the carpet like an insect in an attempt to save his own skin. His piercing glare didn’t stop even when they landed that all important head shot and splattered his brains all over the various alcoholic fluids currently dripping down fine wood and soaking into less then clean carpets.
He slid down in a heap, a dark patch forming in his trousers as his bladder let go and emptied its contents all over the inside of his trousers, but even with this humilating display and the light convulsions that were ripping through his body, his eyes never left them.
Once his convulsions began to slow down, Bon Bon let out a soft sigh, “I’ll see you in Tartarus…”
Lyra turned to her friend and gave her a half pleading look, “Can we make out with his corpse now? His hands look so fucking soft and I want to play with them!”
Bon Bon sighed, “We have about ten minutes before the guards come down on this place like a hammer, so lets make it quick and be out in seven… Hurry up.”
Lyra gave an excited little squee as she pulled the dying stallion up on top of the bar, laying him out like an animal about to be butchered as his mouth flopped uselessly, attempting to form words of some kind. Of course, the mint green mare with the light green and white mane didn’t much care for his words, she only cared for his hands, pressing one of them firmly against the side of her face as she shushed him, already starting to shimmy her trousers down her legs to show off her striped panties, one of her own hands moving down to shove those panties aside as she worked her fingers over her clit, giving a soft moan as she rubbed his hand up and down the side of her face, his fingers already limp as the last of the life began to bleed from him.
While this was happening, Bonbon was trying to figure out how to get her catsuit off without needing to spend five minutes pulling it on again. Eventually she just decided to rip the crotch open, exposing her cream colored cunt to the outside air with a soft sigh, seemingly appreciating the coolness against the burning heat of her forbidden lust.
Staring down at Andras, who was now staring up at the ceiling with a hateful, focused expression that had been intended for them.
“You caused us a lot of trouble you know?” Bon Bon informed the cooling cadaver, which didn’t respond, too busy being dead to hear them. The mare did notice that his trousers had a large tent forming in them, and she wondered what kind of angel or devil he had seen in his final moments that could have gotten him so worked up.
Either way it didn’t matter much to her. She tore his trousers off while Lyra was busy feeding her admittedly unhealthy obsession with hands. Underneath his plain black trousers he had a simple pair of white cotton boxers, which was admittedly disappointing to her. She didn’t wear underwear, even when she was was wearing her catsuit, but normally someone’s choice in underwear said a lot about them as a person.
No matter, she tossed the boxers aside and let out a soft gasp as his pitch black length spilled forth, still filled with blood from the last beats of his heart, and she was more then happy to help him with it.
“Gosh… That looks really painful. Let me help you out with that.” Bon Bon muttered, before moving to straddle him firmly. Lyra held him in place on the counter and cuddled his hand close as if she was worried he might try to pull away from her, but of course that wasn’t going to happen.
“Hey! Stop being so rough with him, I’m trying to play with his hands!” Lyra said with a huff.
Bon Bon gave a chuckle in response to her friend and her weird fascination, then began to grind herself against his length. He was still warm, and so was his length. Once he got cold, this wouldn’t feel anywhere near as good, but they would need to be gone in a few minutes anyway, unless they wanted the guards bursting through the door and laying them out while they were in the middle of sharing their prize.
Grinding her snatch against his length, she would have loved to take some time teasing him further, but unfortunately time was lacking, so with one motion she slid herself up the side of his length and ground the entrance to his snatch against it a few times, letting her warm juices flow down his length and lube it up.
Once it was nice and slick with her juices, she stared down into the eyes of the stallion, attempting to imagine just how much hatred he must have held for her in his final moments, and with that in mind, she slid her way down his length, her snatch gripping, squeezing and inviting it inside as she let out a long, low moan.
Lyra let out a smirk this time, “You’re such a slut Bon Bon,” She mused while using the dead stallion’s hand to explore her cunt, using her dark yellow magic to operate his fingers as she thrust her hips up into his hand, strange noises and mewls loudly filling the air around her. “Though I must admit, even if this stallion was a huge pain for us to track down, he is hot as fuck.”
Bon Bon didn’t have a witty response to give this time, too lost in her own lust as she began to ride his length for all it was worth. She was lost in her lust.
“Ah… Mnnf. Can you please help keep him nice and stiff for me Lyra?” She manged to string together between her moans. She was starting to really pick up the pace, slamming her hips against his length as her rear gently smacked against his balls.
Lyra didn’t bother with a response either, her magic simply expanding and then filling Bon Bon from the inside as it wrapped around Andras’ length, filling her with the strangest tingling sensation that was none the less incredibly pleasurable.
She loved Lyra’s magic, and while Lyra might not have been the best fighter, her focus was unmatched, she was one of very few mares that were able to still use magic while in the middle of an orgasm.
Her magic grabbed one of his other hands and bought it up to her lips, sucking gently on his fingers as her eyes lolled back in her head, extending her tongue from her mouth purposefully as she twisted her expression into one befitting a common street whore.
“FU-Fuck.. I’m getting close.” Lyra groaned, her feet scraping against the carpet as she curled his fingers deeper inside of her, returning moments later to sucking on his finger and rolling her tongue around his digits in a display that would have driven most stallions into a lustful frenzy, even those that didn’t have any kind of hand fetish.
Bon Bon was getting close too, her rear was much thicker then that of her friend’s and it was currently slapping loudly against Andras’ hips as she rode him for everything that he was worth.
Her moans rang through the air as she rubbed at her breasts, her fully erect nipples straining against the pitch black rubber as she gave a nod to Lyra.
Lyra used her magic to give one last bit of stimulation to the dead stallion, and this was enough to send him straight into a post mortem orgasm. His load, the last load he would ever produce, was still warm as it shot up into Bon Bon, who reacted as if she had just been electrocuted, letting out a loud howl of pleasure as her dark blue eyes rolled all the way back in her head.
And then a bullet ripped straight through the back of her head and came out between her eyes, making the whorish expression she had just pulled was her attempting to look at the bullet as it ripped through her brain.
Lyra jolted, but the shock from her best friend suddenly getting a large part of their brain suddenly turned into scrambled eggs and a bloody mist made her clench up around the hand of the dead stallion, which was the final push that she needed to finally tumble into her own orgasm.
“What thefucuckkk?” Was about all she mustered, spitting his fingers out so that his arm fell down limply against his chest, before she clung desperately to his arm as her legs quivered, the most intense orgasm of her life ripping through her.
Bon Bon was currently convulsing atop Andras, her hips rocking back and forth as her body tried and failed to adjust to the fact that one of her vital organs was currently completely ruined. As Lyra dropped to her knees, she attempted to bring her 9mm submachine gun to bear, which had been left by her feet.
As she turned to face the figure, partly obscured in shadow, she gasped however. “Oh fuck…”
And then the revolver that the figure was holding roared again, and she never said anything again as the heavy round snapped her head back into the bar, ending her life. She had quite literally been caught with her pants down, and now she began to empty her bladder all over the floor, partly hidden behind Andras’ arm which was hanging limply down from his position atop the bar counter, his fingers still drenched with Lyra’s juices.
As Lyra stopped moving, Bon Bon fell limply against Andra’s chest, her muscles finally giving up on doing their job as they accepted their fate along with the rest of her body. Even more unfortunately, a paternity mark of a red outline of a bleeding eye appeared just above her womb, signal ling that had she survived this, there might have been a little buddle of joy on the way for her, whether that was a thing she would have been happy or annoyed about, nobody could be sure.
And just like that, the restaurant fell silent. There had been the roar of gunfire, the sound of people screaming, and now there was only dead silence and a scene of complete carnage.
The figure put their revolver away, calmly leaving the room and heading out into the street. The guards still wouldn’t arrive for a few more minutes, and everything was neatly wrapped up with no usable witnesses.