Between The Bullet And My Lip, And The Fantasy I Let Slip
Returning from a night out with your friends, you found yourself drenched by the relentless downpour that had soaked the streets of Marechester. Despite your coat offering some protection against the cold, it provided little defense against the deluge, leaving you thoroughly soaked from feet to waist. Racing against the clock, you sprinted through the rain-drenched streets, your only thought being to reach the comfort of home.
As the bells of Marechester Town Hall chimed midnight, you couldn't help but curse your luck at being caught in the midst of the storm. Each step echoed with the rhythmic splash of water as you hastened your pace, driven by the desire to escape the relentless downpour.
Finally arriving at your doorstep, you fumbled for your keys, eager to seek refuge from the inclement weather. With a sigh of relief, you pushed open the door and hurried inside, shutting it firmly behind you to keep the rain at bay. Hastily kicking off your sodden shoes and discarding your coat on the couch, you took a moment to catch your breath, thankful to be sheltered from the elements.
You flicked on the light switch in the living room, casting a soft glow that pierced through the dimness. Your gaze fell upon the scattered bottles of alcohol strewn haphazardly across the floor, a familiar sight that irked you to no end. Littlepip's penchant for excessive drinking and her careless disregard for tidiness grated on your nerves, fueling the simmering frustration within you.
"I can't stand when she does this," you muttered under your breath, clenching your fists in frustration. Determined to confront her about her habits, you ascended the stairs to the second floor, the sound of thunder reverberating through the house like a warning of the impending storm.
As you approached the door to your shared bedroom, a palpable tension hung in the air, shrouding the hallway in darkness. The rhythmic patter of rain against the windowpane provided a backdrop to the scene unfolding before you, punctuated by occasional flashes of lightning that illuminated the corridor with an eerie glow.
With each step, the intensity of the rain seemed to lessen, allowing you to discern faint sounds emanating from within the room. Littlepip's muffled moans reached your ears, their origin shrouded in mystery. Uncertainty gnawed at you, mingling with a curious blend of intrigue and apprehension.
"Littlepip... could she be...?" you whispered to yourself, hesitating at the threshold. Despite the invasion of privacy weighing heavily on your conscience, an insatiable curiosity gnawed at you, compelling you to investigate further. With cautious steps, you approached the door, poised on the precipice between reluctance and curiosity.
As you cautiously pushed open the door, the unmistakable sounds of Littlepip's intoxicated moans filled the room, mingling with the subtle clink of the bottle she wielded in her magical grasp. With each strained cough, her voice took on a raspy quality, betraying the effects of her inebriation.
Your eyes widened in disbelief as you took in the scene before you, a tableau of surreal depravity that left you rooted to the spot. Littlepip sat upon the bed, her form swaying unsteadily as she indulged in her drunken reverie. With a languid movement, she lifted the bottle with her magical aura, guiding it with precision as her hoof traced a lascivious path along her vagina.
Yet, it was the sight that awaited just beyond her trembling form that truly arrested your attention. The entire expanse of the bed lay awash in a sea of vomit, a grotesque tapestry of half-digested remnants that adorned every surface. From the mattress to the bed rails, not an inch remained untouched by the vile expulsion, a stark testament to the depths of Littlepip's debauchery.
Stunned into silence, you could only watch in horrified fascination as she continued her depraved ritual, seemingly oblivious to the filth that surrounded her. The pungent stench of bile hung heavy in the air, mingling with the sickly-sweet aroma of alcohol to create an atmosphere thick with decadence and decay.
As the gravity of the situation began to sink in, a surge of revulsion welled up within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. Yet, even amidst the chaos and disgust, a sense of sorrow and pity tugged at your heartstrings, a silent lament for the once-proud mare now reduced to a pitiful spectacle of self-indulgence and despair.
"I don't know if I can keep this to myself," you muttered, your voice heavy with uncertainty. "But for now, I'll let her have her moment."
With a heavy heart, you pushed yourself away from the wall and made your way back downstairs to the living room. The weight of the truth bore down upon you with each step, threatening to crush you beneath its unbearable burden.
As you settled onto the sofa, the events of the evening replayed in your mind like a relentless loop, each image more vivid and disturbing than the last. The sight of Littlepip pleasuring herself while surrounded by vomit filled you with a sickening mixture of horror and disbelief.
She wasn't just anypony – she was your marefriend, your partner, somepony you had shared your life with for years. And yet, in that moment, she seemed like a stranger, her dark fantasies a stark reminder of the depths of pony desire.
You closed your eyes, hoping to banish the disturbing images from your mind, but they lingered like a shadow, taunting you with their presence. Sleep eluded you, your mind consumed by thoughts of what you had witnessed, and the unsettling realization that nothing would ever be the same again.
You found yourself curled up, gaze fixed on the exit door, a silhouette in the dimness, beckoning with promises of escape. The darkness whispered of easy exits, abandoning Littlepip to her own enigmas.
Yet, across the room, a faint glow offered an alternative — a sliver of light in the obsidian sea. Stay and face the shadows, or flee into the comforting embrace of the unknown.
In your mind's eye, Littlepip emerged, a portrait of hope and redemption, but beneath the surface, a tempest raged, hidden from prying eyes.
No turning back now, dwelling only serves to resurrect the specter of dreams gone awry. So, you sought solace in memories, retracing the steps that led you to Littlepip, hoping to rediscover the light amidst the encroaching darkness.
You willed your mind to conjure images of serenity, of tranquil moments shared with Littlepip.
In your reverie, you found yourselves adrift in a celestial sea, where the waves of possibility stretched endlessly before you. Hand in hoof, you traversed the aqueous expanse, guided by the whims of fate.
Life's trials were mere ripples in the vastness of this dreamscape, obstacles easily overcome with unity and resolve. Each step upon the liquid surface echoed with a promise of resilience, a testament to your bond.
As you leaned in for a kiss, anticipation hung heavy in the air, only to be shattered by the haunting specter of reality. The tranquil waters of your reverie turned murky, tainted by the stark revelation of Littlepip's dark desires.
Even in the sanctuary of dreams, the harsh truths of existence could not be eluded. Your marefriend's penchant for debasement had seeped into every corner of your consciousness.
You jolted awake, heart pounding against your ribcage as if trying to break free.
Rubbing your eyes with clenched fists, you rose from the couch, trying to shake off the disorientation.
A faint yellow glow caught your attention, casting an eerie light over the room. The same shade as the bile that had stained your thoughts the night before.
Words materialized on the wall, mocking your distress. The Equestrian Paradox, always lurking in moments of vulnerability, had chosen this moment to taunt you.
Frustration welled up inside you as the cruel phrases danced across the surface: "The Meaning of Emetophilia,"
"Emetophilia is a sexual fetish in which an individual is aroused by vomiting or observing others vomit."
"She is a disgusting pony or your marefriend?"
You gritted your teeth, steeling yourself against the onslaught. Ignoring the taunts, you knew action was required to quell the torment.
"I have to do something soon," you muttered aloud, the words on the walls continuing to churn out their taunts. The only recourse was to pretend they weren't there.
A laugh echoed from Littlepip, her voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. "Who are you talking to?" she inquired, oblivious to the turmoil gripping your mind. It seemed as if you and she inhabited different worlds entirely.
"No one... just myself," you replied wearily, avoiding her gaze as you turned away. Littlepip's presence, once comforting, now felt like a painful reminder of the darkness lurking beneath the surface.
"How odd... you sure you didn't overdo it last night?" Littlepip prodded, the irony of her question weighing heavily on your shoulders.
"No, I don't drink much. Just a couple of bottles, that's all," you responded, the words feeling hollow as they left your lips. Littlepip gave you a gentle tap with her hoof, oblivious to the storm raging within you.
"Well, talking to yourself doesn't seem normal to me. Are you sure you're okay?" Littlepip's voice held genuine concern for your well-being, though the irony of her question only grated on your nerves further.
"I... I'm okay, just a little, ummmm, scared," you admitted quietly, unable to meet her gaze as you spoke. Your feet fidgeted nervously on the floor, betraying the turmoil swirling within you.
"Scared? What do you mean?" Littlepip's inquiry was gentle, her tone filled with compassion as she tried to make sense of your emotional state.
You walked slowly towards the kitchen, seeking refuge in the familiar surroundings as you wrestled with how to broach the subject with Littlepip.
"I don't know... it's just that last night, I saw something... something that made me question things," you explained vaguely, your left hand gesturing abstractly as you settled into a chair, seeking solace in its familiarity.
"I think you're talking about the Equestrian Paradox... those strange phenomena that happen to us. I'm sorry you had to experience that. We still don't understand what it is or where it comes from," Littlepip offered sympathetically, though her words were overshadowed by the persistent manifestation of "Emetophilia" throughout the house.
The meaning of your marefriend's fetish - "Emetophilia is a sexual fetish in which an individual is aroused by vomiting or observing others vomit" - seemed to echo endlessly within the walls, transforming your home into a haunting reminder of the revelation you wished you could forget.
"Please, Littlepip, don't lie to yourself... I saw what you did last night." You watched as the words slowly dissipated from your body, a fleeting relief amidst the turmoil of confrontation.
"I haven't done anything wrong, I'm telling you I was just sleeping!" Littlepip's voice carried a note of defiance as she tapped her hoof against the floor, torn between approaching you and retreating from the accusation.
"That's not true! I saw you... you were masturbating while vomiting!" The force of your words echoed through the room as you slammed your palms against the table. Gradually, the house began to return to its normal state, but the wounds inflicted by your revelation ran deep.
Littlepip turned away, her hoof hovering uncertainly near her face. "No... No, think about it, you're pounding on a fault line right now," she protested, her breaths coming in short, anxious bursts. "These accusations will only destroy our relationship."
"Don't try to hide it. I saw you... I was trying to pretend that I didn't see anything, but... it's hard to believe that a pony so close to me could have those kinds of fantasies," you admitted, unable to meet Littlepip's gaze, your eyes fixed on a spot to the right.
Littlepip was running out of options; she couldn't keep hiding it, no matter how hard she tried. "You're an asshole... you... saw me and didn't say anything. Now what? You think I'm mentally ill? Should I go to a mental hospital? Are you going to tell Homage, Calamity, Velvet, my mother, that I'm a sick fuck?"
"None of that. They don't have to know. But someone like me, living under the same roof, would have to know and could find out at any moment. I didn't say anything because I didn't want to hurt your feelings," you confessed, running your hand nervously along the wooden surface of the table, uncertain of how this revelation would affect your relationship with Littlepip.
"Well, now I feel like shit. Now that you know about that, I guess you plan to pack your things and leave," Littlepip said, sitting on the floor, refusing to make eye contact with you, turning her back to you.
"No, Littlepip. Although it's hard not to feel a little... disturbed, I understand why you've hidden it. But I still love you, you know?" You said sincerely, moving your head forward, your body still shaking from the emotional intensity of the moment, you watched as your hands moved on their own.
Littlepip let out an awkward laugh. "You can't love a mentally ill pony like me. Ponies who have taboo fetishes are destined to be outcasts."
"You're wrong. Why am I still here then? Waiting for you to kiss me?" You said, the house lit up in a white tone with every word you and Littlepip exchanged.
You placed a hand over your heart and leaned back, letting out a sigh of relief.
"In order not to make me feel even worse, I suppose. I think anypony would have left without saying a word," Littlepip said, looking at you but then quickly turning her back on you.
"If I had done that, it would mean that I didn't have feelings for you from the beginning. But I'm still here for a reason, love," You looked to the left and Littlepip looked back at you.
Her green eyes glazed over, a sign of the rage and humiliation that was eating her up inside. Your words made her feel a little more valued, although nothing would ever be the same. Even so, you and Littlepip would maintain your connection to each other despite the difficulties.
Littlepip slowly got on all fours and walked towards you. She wasn't sure, but she wanted to feel support, affection, something that would make her feel loved in moments of vulnerability.
You felt a deep empathy for Littlepip's situation. The mind is very complex, and from there, any kind of fantasies can arise. We all see the world in our own way, and that is what makes us living beings.
Littlepip extended her hooves to receive a hug from you, and you reciprocated, kissing her on her lips. Despite everything—the disturbing images of Littlepip and the fact that you were having contact with her lips—that didn't stop you from giving affection to your marefriend. You were determined that over time, you would get used to that side of her.
You and Littlepip, in your passionate kiss, gave each other a tight hug. The tension was disappearing, and the house was enveloped in a state of purity and calmness. It was like being in heaven again, a safe place.
As you and Littlepip parted your lips, you spoke sincerely, "Despite everything, I prefer that you do that... when I'm not around."
Littlepip understood and nodded her head before lying on your chest. "It's alright, but please don't tell anypony about this. It has to be a secret between you and me," she whispered.
Those were the last words spoken before silence filled the whole house. You gently caressed Littlepip's mane, nodding in agreement. Some things should remain hidden forever, a secret shared only between the two of you.
