SCP Equestria Presents: Monkey Business 2 - Bullshit Boogaloo
Chapter [REDACTED]...Again.
Item#: SCP-1337-J
Object Class: ~~Euclid~~Safe (Revised but under review for further reclassification. See Experiment Logs 1337-J-A through ? for further details)
Special Containment Procedures: Instances of SCP-1337-J are to be held within a communal enclosure built around the original site of their discovery deep within the Everfree Forest. Attempts by SCP instances to communicate with staff should not be discouraged but should be closely monitored by Site Anthropologist and 1337-J specialist, Dr. Heartstring. Any deciphered requests within reason should be humored, provided that (relatively) good behavior continues.
Instances of SCP-1337-J are to receive regular feedings consisting of a Standard Pattern Omnivorous Diet Meal Plan and should be provided with items for the express purpose of entertainment and stimulation after they have been inspected to ensure the components can not reasonably be utilized to attempt a security breach, such as puzzles, playing cards, mild mind-altering recreational substances, musical instruments, art supplies, and limited access to approved works of literature, as well as pre-recorded and screened television programs and movies.
Scp-1337-J Instances are to receive regular visitations by females of any available sapient species capable of standard Reptile-Mamillian sexual intercourse. Staff tasked with or volunteering to take on Visitation Duty are recommended to possess a Psionic Resistance Index Score of at least 30 or else receive regular treatments via the application of Class C Amnestics to avoid long-term complications from exposure to the anomalies. Should the unlikely (See: Borderline impossible save in the most dire situations) scenario of having no volunteers for Visitation Duty, D-Class personnel who have exhibited exceptional cooperativeness and other good behavior may be chosen from a list of eligible candidates for use in this endeavor.
Changelings are expressly forbidden from participating in Visitation Duty with Instances of SCP 1337-J.
Attempts by SCP-1337-J Instances to lure site staff into the enclosure outside of regular visitation or enclosure security inspections by authorized personnel are to be logged, and the relevant staff member noted, and if they consent, tested and possibly listed as a potential candidate for Visitation Duty. Any Site Staff caught attempting to enter the containment unit outside of regular visitation or enclosure security inspections should be detained by security and tested for symptoms of the anomalous effects of prolonged exposure to SCP-1337-J Instances. Should any such symptoms be found, the subject is to be administered Class C amnestics to negate the effects and be reassigned to duty at a different Site. Repeated infractions or failures to resist the luring attempts of SCP-1337-J instances will be met with disciplinary action and, if deemed necessary, termination of the offending party.
Description: SCP-1337-J consists of several instances of an unknown species (Hereafter referred to individually as Scp-1337-J-1 to 5) of the Hominidae family, currently dubbed Satyrus Lascivus.
Subjects are bipedal, ranging in height from 5’ 5” at the smallest to 7’2 at the largest. Weights range from 120 to 230 pounds.
The subjects have short, sparse fur covering most of their bodies, with full manes in varying shades of brown, blonde, and black, with one subject’s mane possessing a mane with a reddish coloration. Eye colors are documented as blue, brown, and green, with skin tones appearing to be varying shades of peach and brown. Skin appears to lack pigmentation on the soles of the feet and claws. All subjects appear to be biologically male and, when questioned, agree that they consider themselves as such. However, they have made mention of female members of their species, with varying degrees of detail and enthusiasm on the topic.
Inspection of teeth and repeated feedings have indicated that the creatures are omnivorous, with a mild but notable preference for fruits, nuts, fish, and meat.
After extensive observation and several successful attempts at communication, the subjects have been confirmed to be sapient and at the same level of intelligence, if not slightly greater than what is displayed by most known sapient species. The subjects appear to have their own language, both written and spoken but are unable to communicate through speech in Ponish due to differences in facial, skeletal, and muscular structure. However, methods such as communication through written language and gesturing have proven to be quite effective, with the instances having gained passable fluency in written Ponish within a few months of attempts to teach them.
Genetic testing has revealed them to be most closely related to the extinct race of the Satyrs, followed closely behind by Centaurs, with the closest living relatives being Chimpanzees.
The initial discovery of the subjects occurred on [REDACTED] after repeated reports by residents of Ponyville about strange noises emanating from the Everfree Forest. Mobile task Force Psi-345 (“The Ever-Free Rangers”) was dispatched to investigate and came upon the 1337-J Instances living in what appeared to be a rudimentary camp, with several shelters, a central communal area, food storage such as rudimentary drying racks and storage cellars and other similar facilities which indicated an extended habitation of the region.
While initially confused, the instances did not immediately show any signs of aggression but instead displayed intense curiosity at the task force's presence. Taskforce Psi-345 reported their findings and recommended that the instances not be relocated for the time being and that the area be restricted until the exact nature of the anomalous organisms could be ascertained.
This recommendation was approved, and long-term observation of the entities was arranged as a result, eventually leading to the construction of Site [REDACTED], where the instances continue to be housed as of the last update of this file.
Pinkie Pie trotted quite happily towards the entrance to the intermediary testing facility for SCP-1337-J. It was her turn on the visitation cycle again, which meant she got to see one of her favorite primates in the whole wide world again! She hummed a tune as she bounced past the security personnel, her rather ample rear bouncing right along with the rest of her. They would usually try to identify her, but Pinkie was well…Pinkie, there wasn’t a point in trying to stop her. The only reason she wasn’t in containment herself was that she had Pinkie Promised the O-4 Council personally that she would not abuse her anomalous abilities on Foundation property “unless she really really needed to!”, and well, missing a playdate with a friend would certainly be one such instance.
The airtight mechanical door clicked and opened, a blast of particularly sterile, stagnant, cool air washing heavily across her face. She moseyed right on past, allowing it to close behind her as she took a moment to assess the state of her surroundings.
The room had not changed much since she had last been there. There was the pane of glass that separated the visitation area into two distinct halves, bearing several small holes in the middle to allow the exchange of sound, and at the position of those holes was a set of tables and chairs on either side of the glass so that whatever subject was currently being evaluated could comfortably sit and communicate with site personnel. Off to one side of the chamber, bolted into the nearly indestructible crystal glass pane, was another secure door with an additional set of security personnel standing dutifully in front of it. A bed large enough to house several ponies was in the corner of the subject side of the room.
Or one pony and a particularly enthusiastic anomalous primate.
Speaking of, the other door on the far side of the room opened, and into the separated partition emerged one such primate.
He was tall, even by the standard of larger bipedal races, such as the minotaurs, at about six feet tall. However, with their thinner, more agile frame, they weighed about as much as an average one at around 180 Pounds. Great swaths of his pale skin were covered in a thin coating of fur. The creature's mane was a bookish brown color, and a single small mole decorated his cheek underneath one of his small, intelligent brown eyes.
The creatures did not seem capable of quite the same range as expression as most of the other sapient beings known to ponykind, and their faces were somewhat stiff and immobile in comparison. Still, Pinkie had been visiting them long enough to not only recognize which one this one was (The Facility Staff had informed her he referred to himself as Nona, but she liked to call him Nonners instead) but was able to tell that he seemed pleased to see her. Delighted, in fact, in ways that excited her for what was to come.
But that would have to wait. There were always a few other experiments before the really fun stuff! But she didn’t mind. She particularly enjoyed spending time with these particular friends anyway, and this one was her favorite of the bunch, which was an added bonus!
As was frequently the case, one of the Council Members was here to personally oversee the proceedings regarding the O4s' little pet project. An intercom crackled to life, and Twilight Sparkle’s familiar voice came through loud and clear from the speakers dotting the room's corners.
“Alright, Pinkie, go ahead with the usual routine. All of the required items have been provided as usual.”
“Okie Dokie, Loki!” she said, giving a playful mock salute toward the one-way mirror forming the wall behind her. Her tongue hung out in a particularly silly fashion as she gave her best serious face before returning her attention to her playmate.
She pulled out her chair, squeezing her too-large rump onto the seat, some of the glorious excess hanging off to either side, before turning her attention back to him and smiling wide again. “Hi Nonners! Ready for some games?”
The subject nodded, returning her smile kindly as he took out what appeared to be a Ponopoly board and the requisite game pieces. The familiar morse-code-esque beat of Hoof Language thumped against the table as he responded silently. “You fuckin know it, you crazy bitch. I’ve been waiting for a rematch! You ready to get bought under the table?”
That was definitely one of many things Pinkie wanted to do under the table. As she leaned in, she could tell he smelled…a bit different than usual. Not bad, really nice, actually. Like, even nicer than these guys usually do, and these things typically smell super duper nice to begin with! For some reason, he seemed a bit more aggressive, too, more assertive than usual.
But he seemed pretty happy otherwise, so she didn’t question it. She simply smirked and put a foreleg on the table with a confident thump. “Only if you’re ready to stop pretending you have a chance! Bring it on, big boy!”
The board game was simply a means to an end, of course, a simple way to test cognitive function and general temperament in a relatively consistent way without grating on the patience of the fairly intelligent test subjects that allowed them a degree of pleasant social interaction outside of well…their usual preferred method of getting intimate with somepony. The game went by fairly quickly, for a game of Ponopoly, only taking an hour or two for Pinkie Pie to emerge utterly victorious again, much to Nonners’ dismay.
During the entire game, as much as she enjoyed herself, she could not shake the thought of how nice her friend smelled today. It burrowed its way into her thoughts again and again as effectively as any earworm of a pop song, a heat building in her loins with a speed exceeding the usual intensity of the phenomenon by a significant degree. She gives an almost uncomfortable wiggle of her generous flanks in her seat, causing the poor piece of furniture to creak in protest as she rubbed at the back of her neck while watching the test subject put away the game board. “W-Wow, Nonners, you lasted more than an hour that time. You’re getting better!” she said encouragingly as she slid out of her seat, pushing it back against the table and pacing around a bit. She pleadingly glanced over at the mirror constituting one of the chamber walls while she thought he wasn’t looking, uttering a slight whine.
On the other side of the one-way mirror, Twilight sighed at the sound and expression produced by her frie-er…test subject. A hoof came up to gently, slowly rub at her head, and she looked down at the clipboard being held in her telekinetic grasp.
Her initial theory was correct. It had been quite a monumental task preventing Celestia and Luna from paying their typical visits to the specimens, but after several mating cycles of being left to their own devices, their pheromones seemed to be significantly more potent if the pronounced effect the creature’s mere proximity was having on poor Pinkie Pie was anything to go by.
That reminded her. Once she was finished here, she should probably go and get them out of the Keter Class Containment Units she had stuck them in for the duration of the experiment. But that would have to wait a bit longer. It was time to see if it had all been for nothing. If successful, what she had planned would make exposing further mares to these creatures redundant!
She cleared her throat and turned to her left, her Assistant standing at the ready. “Alright, Derpy, go ahead and activate the aerosolizers.”
The ditzy mare gave a little salute before pressing the large red button directly next to her with her face. The collision gave a resounding smack as the warning buzzer sounded.
In a few moments, the testing room began to fill with a mist as the solution was dispersed into the air, beginning to cling to every available surface as it slowly settled. Twilight gave a devious grin as she watched her pet project take to the air.
Nona blinked as he heard a soft hiss, and soft, whispy clouds of something were dispersed throughout his half of the enclosure. Whatever it was carried a faint, acrid scent that he can’t quite pin down until…is that Axe Body Spray? Sure, he hasn't had a bath in a few days, but it isn't his fault they’ve been keeping him locked up for God knows what reason!
He briefly looked up at the mist but shrugged and turned his attention back to Pinkie. Bangin body aside (as uncomfortable as he still was admitting that a horse had one), she was a great girl, and he always enjoyed her visits from start to finish. She wasn’t like some of the other mares who wanted to get right down to business. She treated him like a person instead of a lab project or a stress reliever.
He barked out a small laugh before beating out his reply. “What can I say? Being locked in here gives me a lot of time to practice. There isn't much else to do in here since most of your books are, uh…kind of ass, to be honest. No offense, but I can’t believe you call some of this Caillou type beat Thomas the Tank Engine tier shlop classic literature.”
Pinkie doesn’t skip a beat. She wiggles in her seat a bit and gives a little chuckle. “Well, then. I guess it’s lucky you have me to come and put a smile on that weird flat face of yours, huh, Nonners?” She teases kindly. She looks back at the wall again pleadingly. Nona smiles softly at this, his fingers curling and clenching in anticipation. As wonderful as she is, she’s still a mare, and he knows all too well by this point that his kind has…certain effects on mares when they come into close proximity. It seems a bit more intense today, though. Usually, she lasts a while longer than this before she starts jonesing for it.
He leans in and clears his throat to get her attention. “Hey, uh…are you okay, Pinks? You’re looking kind of restless. Do you need to take a breather, maybe?” He asks her gently, leaning back in his seat again as he observes her with a bit of concern etched into his face.
Pinkie Pie was hot.
Like, really, really hot. Her skin slowly dampened under her coat as sweat began to bead despite the comfortable temperature of the enclosure. She could feel herself breathing more heavily, audibly so, though only barely, and only to her…hopefully.
She felt her nethers pulsate, her slit giving a Pavlovian wink as the primate leaned in closer to her. Whatever Twilight was doing with that spray…harmonies sake, that smell was driving her wild. It melded with and complemented Nonners’ normal one in a way that was making her plump thighs shiver and quake.
She was barely holding herself together enough to parse and translate his inquiry, giving him a shaky smile and nodding. “Y-yeah, nonners! I’m as fine as can be, don’t worry! I’m just uh. a little…I’m fine, really!” She says quickly to end her rambling as her mind began slowly finding it more difficult to string sentences together.
Dear Celestia, if somepony wouldn’t give her a way to get to Nonners soon, she would bucking make one.
Twilight gave a soft groan as she buried her face in her hoof, rubbing up and down slowly before levitating a pen to take notes on her clipboard. “Alright, so this formula is a wash. Symptoms linked to exposure to SCP-1337-J instances are manifesting in the test subject at a significantly greater speed than is typical, and at a much greater intensity than anticipated, even accounting for the increased pheromone concentration.”
She looked up from her clipboard to see Pinkie Pie had gotten on the table and was currently pressing her ass against the glass of the enclosure, giving a desperately come hither look to the anomaly on the other side of the glass. She slammed her ass repeatedly back against it with a series of dull thumps as she rubbed her drooling snatch against the glass. The phrase “It’ll totally fit through the holes, Nonners, trust me!” came through the intercom system.
Twilight gave a low sigh, placing the clipboard on the table and rolling her eyes. “Alright, open the door for her, Derpy. I don’t need another earful from the Extraction Team about how that is not what their job title me-”
CRASH
“...Oh, buck me running.”
Nona gave a startled yelp as the bodacious blur of pink plowing tackled him through the wrecked window. He managed to catch Pinkie Pie in his arms as she accelerated toward him with the speed and purpose of an inbound missile. He fell backward as his chair tipped, sending them both to the ground.
Once the stars in his vision had cleared, he could see his amorous assailant already getting to work. Her plentiful pink posterior was planted firmly in front of his face, wobbling slightly as she wiggled her hips back and forth, working to undo his pants. He feels a hot, shaky breath wash over his newly freed equipment, followed by a satisfied hum as a hot, wet streak is painted up the side of his sizable shaft, accompanied by the sound of lips smacking softly. “Mphhh…enough board games, Nonners. It’s time for us to start playing rough.”
The human prepared to respond, but sadly it is quite difficult to use hoof language when a hot, deranged mare is giving you the Premium Gawk Gawk Sloppy Spin Cycle 9001 Supreme, causing him to instead do his best impression of a Parkinson's patient, arms thumping his chest erratically as he watched Pinkies head begin to bob up and down fervently as his vision was quickly subsumed entirely by the monumental amounts of ass being pressed against his face and he was pressed into pleasuring his partners pretty pink plump pony pussy.
He gave a huff and slid his hands up to shakily grip her flanks with his powerful hands, squeezing and pulling her backside in closer as he began to lap at her honeypot. Oh well, he enjoyed the flavor. Cotton candy was pretty good. At least it wasn’t the licorice-flavored one with the monotone again.
Nonners quickly gave up on the notion of communication and decided to let his body do the talking instead. One of his legs wrapped around the back of her neck and tightened to urge her to do deeper for longer on each of her desperate swallowing strokes. He dived in with an eager groan, reaching up and grasping her soft, supple haunches in those powerful, dextrous digits and squeezing, spreading her open to nestle his face in as deep as he could while his tongue slithered into her drooling snatch.
Once he was satisfied with the depths of his depraved delving, he released her flanks from his grip, giving one of them a hardy smack directly over the sensitive area constituting her Cutie Mark as the other slid down beneath her undercarriage to start rubbing and gently pinching at her winking clit.
Pinkie practically sang for him as he started working her over, attacking her from multiple angles this way. Though with his heavy slab of fuckmeat buried so deep down her gullet, it was more like a pathetic, wanton gargle, sending delicious vibrations down his shaft as she continued to suck and swallow and aimlessly drool on his heavy breeding tool.
Within a matter of mere minutes of having her entire esophagus, every inch of her tongue slathered in one of the most intimate sources of his potent scent while her nose was buried in those heavy cumtanks that served as its only direct competitor on that front, Pinkie’s eyes were beginning to roll back, and flutter closed, her bobbing losing focus, becoming aimless and primally needy as she succumbed further to her instincts.
As Pinkie came to a stop, throat deep on his cock, suckling at it like a starving calf, Nonners decided that this might be an appropriate time for him to take the lead. He rolled her off of him, placing the mare on her back, sitting on his knees before her as he spread her hind legs and tilted them up and over his shoulders. Normally He would ask how she wanted to finish this out, but well…that didn't seem like it was a viable option this time.
Besides, He’s played this game with Pinkie enough to know exactly where this dirty little bubblegum bitch is going to want it.
As she was liberated from the overwhelming cloud of scent and taste that hung over and in her muzzle, clinging to her olfactory facilities like oil to a disgruntled seagull, she began to come back to something resembling consciousness just in time to realize her ponut was being prodded, pressed against firmly as Nonners looked down from atop her in a firm, intimate mating press, a devious, affectionate smirk plastered across his stiff features and a playful glint in his eyes.
The poor mare barely got to wrap her forelegs around his neck and didn’t even have time to pretend to want him to be gentle with her before he viciously speared his way home into her clenching backdoor.
She let out something at the three-way interaction of a scream, a moan, and an embarrassingly primal whinny as he neglected to give her even a moment to pick her shattered mind up off of the bottom of her skull. He started pulling back, slamming deep into her again and againandagainandagainandagainandagain!
Rougher, harder, deeper! She was almost sure she knew that’s what she was asking him for despite the fact that every noise escaping her mouth at the time carried about as much coherency as your average Beck lyric.
It didn’t matter, their bodies were doing enough talking for the both of them.
The loud, dull, wet sounds of bare skin slapping harshly, brutally down onto padded, furred flesh filled the chamber as the anomaly greedily piledrove his massive prick down into her helplessly squeezing, spasming bowels. She wailed out for him, pulling his face to the delicate, comforting fluff of her chest firmly, locking him in place as her hind legs crossed behind his neck, and her forelegs wrapped around his waist.
Not that she needed to, she knew he wouldn’t pull out of her ass in a million, billion years if you paid him. She just needed to feel close to him, to her Nonners, to her stud as he staked his claim.
He gave a soft snort as she tugged him closer, moving his head up just a tad so that she could feel his hot breath wash over the crook of her neck, followed by a firm, sudden pressure as his sharp teeth clamped down on the hollow of her throat and he loosed a heavy, low, possessive growl.
The dominant, predatory act coupled with the intense stimulation, the closeness the overwhelming scent of his arousal finally culminated to send her over, over that deliciously anticipated precipice of mindless pleasure that Nonners’ never failed to send her careening off of as if propelled by a rocket-powered shopping trolley. She tensed, her entire body coiling and her limbs drawing him so tight she worried she might break him in half as she screamed out her satisfaction as a cry of his name.
Then, as if her strings had been cut, she went completely slack under him, her forelegs falling to her sides like the limp wings of a fallen bird. Panting, whimpering, and mewling, she was left with no option but to allow the powerful beast on top of her to have his way until his unnatural stamina ran out and nature took its course, and finally, after several dozen more rapturous minutes, she felt him pull her in close again anas his balls began to draw tight and rope after thick, heavy rope of his potent, plentiful seed began to pump and pool into her gut.
She closed her eyes, groaning, gurgling softly as she felt her stomach swell significantly with the volume of his load, and hanked Celestia for the existence of the strange little red pills they had that would keep her from having to go home in a wheelchair after this before passing out under him.
The Observation Deck was an absolute mess. Papers scattered everywhere, the desk knocked over, and the potent, overwhelming scent of lavender, bubble soap, and shame filling the air. Twilight wiped her forehead off, panting softly. It seemed like the Anomaly’s odor, combined with her experimental nullification agent, had somehow gotten into the room after Pinkie had bashed down the glass wall. Perhaps a vent had been damaged?
Ah well, the maintenance team would take care of it, they always did. She needed to go get the Rangers to pry that thing off of Pinkie, it looked like he was getting ready to start round two, and the smell was already bad enough in here.
“Hah….alright Derpy, I’m off to go get the cleanup crew, then I have to let the princesses out of containment. You uh…you go ahead and take the rest of the day off, alright?” She said with an awkward smile as she scurried out of the room, trying to remember what the protocol for a third-party amnestics request was.
Derpy gargled weakly, face down, ass up and foaming at the mouth in front of the overturned desk. Both of her holes were gaped wide, drooling the thick, virile sludge that constituted the cum of an alicorn as she managed to pull herself together just enough to utter a single phrase.
“I just don't know what went wrong…”
Author's Note
And that's one commission down!
Oh yeah, if you didn't know, I have those open again, and you can view the going rates and available slots on my Website!
I hope you all enjoy, see you next time!
