Pinkie’s Special Gift for Sweetie Belle

By the time night had finally descended and the bright sun over Equestria had set below the horizon, things seemed calm and tranquil in Ponyville once more. Rarity and Sweetie Belle had retired to their separate rooms for the night, soon falling asleep as a soft breeze ruffled the grasses and flowers around the town. It was around 1 AM when Sweetie Belle woke up in a cold sweat; all she knew was that she was in pain and something, or maybe even everything, did not feel right. Confused and bewildered by the intensity of her pain, she pulled back the light cotton sheets covering her, only to find a shocking and macabre sight. The bloody aftermath of a spontaneous abortion was between her legs, covering a large divot in her sheets in fresh blood. She had no idea what was happening or what the oddly shaped lifeless masses in her bed were.

“Oh, my Celestia!” Sweetie muttered under her breath.

Filled with panic, Sweetie Belle rushed out of her house, running across town to find Pinkie Pie. In a state of utter fear, she knew that there was something very, very wrong. From the first second she saw what had happened she knew that her sister Rarity, ever the stickler for cleanliness and order, would not be the person to ask about such a gruesome scene. Pinkie, her closest friend in these last months (albeit a weird pony) was the one Sweetie felt she could talk to and ask for help. Reaching Sugarcube Corner and tapping on the window she knew to be nearest to Pinkie’s bed to attempt to wake her up, she desperately tried to make sense of the situation in her mind, to little avail.

Seeing Pinkie stir and feeling confident she was no longer sleeping after several loud taps, she immediately made her way to the building’s door and pounded on it with all her might; her voice trembling as she desperately tried to explain the incomprehensible situation.

"Pinkie! Please help! Something... something awful happened! I... I don’t even know exactly what happened, but... but something came out of me and there’s lots of blood. It's... it's all in my sheets," she says, her voice choked with devastation.

Pinkie Pie, groggy and bewildered, opens the door to find Sweetie Belle in a state of distress. Her eyes widen with concern as she pulls the young filly into her embrace. "Sweetie Belle, oh my goodness... I'm so sorry. Come inside, let me hold you," she says, her hooves enveloping Sweetie Belle, offering what comfort she can.

Sweetie Belle clings to Pinkie, her body trembling as she tries to make sense of the overwhelming emotions crashing over her and assailing her mind with what was, to this innocent foal, the unimaginable. Pinkie's presence, though unable to erase the pain, provided a small measure of solace, a temporary respite from the weight of the situation.

As Sweetie Belle attempts to explain her limited understanding of the situation, Pinkie's mind races, trying to comprehend the magnitude of what has occurred. She understood it was a miscarriage, just as she had planned with the misoprostol.

“Pinkie Pie…”

“Yes, Sweetie Belle?”

“I…I need you to do me a favor. A really big favor….I need you to go back to my bedroom in Rarity’s house and clean up whatever is in my sheets. I don’t know if I can do it…I’m scared and if Rarity sees it…well, she won’t know what to do. I don’t want her to lose her mind.”

“I understand Sweetie, give me a moment to get some things in order and then I’ll go right away. Then we can bring you back home, make your bed with some different sheets and I can help you go to sleep.”

Thankful for such help from an adult pony, Sweetie Belle gave an earnest, albeit stressed, smile to her older friend.

Taking a large black plastic bag and a fresh change of white sheets from her linen closet with her, Pinkie knew time was of the essence. With a determined expression on her face, Pinkie gallops through the darkened streets of Ponyville, her hooves pounding against the ground. She arrives at Rarity's house, her breaths coming in quick bursts as she slowly and carefully pushes open the half-ajar door and steps inside.

Sweetie Belle’s room was shrouded in shadows, the air seemed heavy. Pinkie's eyes scan the area, finally settling on the bed where the aftermath of the spontaneous abortion rested. She sucked in a deep breath, steeling herself against the sight before her.

Realizing the extent to which the placental and endometrial blood had soaked into the bedspread, Pinkie decided the easiest course of action would be to simply wrap all the sheets together and remove them from the premises. Carefully, Pinkie wrapped the material stained with blood and remnants of Sweetie's loss up in the flat sheet and mattress cover, placing the lump of sheets and blood into a bag. Her touch was precise and clinical and her movements purposeful as she handled the fragile evidence of Sweetie Belle's painful experience and made the bed after removing the bloodied sheets.

With a final glance around the room, Pinkie quietly exits Rarity's house, careful to not make any sudden or careless movements.

Once again running home, wary to not elicit any unnecessary attention in the dead of night, Pinkie made it home, quickly closing the door behind her as she took the black plastic bag out of a large pouch in her saddlebags.

“Is that…it?” asked Sweetie Belle.

“Yes it is, don’t worry though! I will make sure everything is taken care of and nobody asks any questions of you. We are friends after all, Sweetie Belle!”

“Oh, thank you so much, Pinkie,” cried out Sweetie, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Now let's get you home, little miss!”

With that, the two of them walked back, ensuring that they were quiet as Pinkie helped sneak Sweetie Belle back into her room and tucked her in clean sheets.

“Thank you so much, Pinkie, for everything! I don’t know if I’ll sleep much though…I just feel so jittery.”

“Don’t worry, your old friend Pinkie has a solution for that too! Just have some of this,” she said, extending out a hoof with a bottle of grape juice.

“Once you have this, you’ll sleep just fine.”

“Are you sure, Pinkie? I usually have lots of energy after drinking juice.”

“Don’t worry, this juice will help you go to sleep, I’m sure of it!” Sweetie Belle didn’t know that Pinkie was once again prepared to use some flunitrazepam to help ensure that Sweetie fell asleep.

Sweetie Belle grasped the purple juice between her two hooves, happy to have a sweet-tasting drink after all the worry and anxiety the night had to offer.

Sanguine that the young foal had obediently finished the small glass bottle of juice, Pinkie once again made sure she was snugly tucked in, gave her a light kiss on the forehead, and then left the house, careful to not wake anyone up (undoubtedly amazed that Rarity was still asleep through all of this).

“I need to cut that young filly a break,” Pinkie said to herself, acknowledging how much the foal’s life had been disturbed by her silly endeavors.

“Just one last thing, and then I’ll be done…”

Pinkie could never just let things go. She was always a jokester, always manipulative, always thinking about number one—Pinkie Pie. Maybe it was something about how she felt like she never fit in on the rock farm, or maybe it was the fact that even at the best of times, her friends merely tolerated her. Maybe she felt envious of the innocence and youth that Sweetie Belle had paired with the care and support of an older sister. Whatever it was, Pinkie had one last plan that she wanted to carry out—and Sweetie Belle was the target.

=====☼=====

It was about 3 AM that same night when Pinkie Pie made it to Sweet Apple Acres, her pink mane flowing behind her as she spotted Big Macintosh peacefully asleep on a pile of hay in one of the barns on the farm. A mischievous grin spread across her face as she approached him.

"Hey there, Big Mac! I've got a special project in mind, and I could reeeally use your help," Pinkie exclaimed.

Big Macintosh shifted, his eyes slowly fluttering open as he looked up at Pinkie Pie. "Sorry, Pinkie, but I reckon I can't help ya tonight. Got a lot of work to do here on the farm tomorrow in the mornin’. What in the hay are you doing ‘round here so late anyway?"

“Are you really sure you don’t want to help me?”

“Eeeeyup!”

Pinkie's grin faltered for a moment, but she quickly recovered. "Oh, come on, Big Mac. I know something that might change your mind," she said, her voice dropping to a sly whisper.

Big Macintosh raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "And what might that be?"

Leaning in closer, Pinkie Pie whispered in a low tone, "I know your little secret, Big Mac. I know that you sneak into Applejack's room and steal her dirty bandanas from the laundry that she uses to wipe her sweat on hot days… I know that you bury your face in it and use her smell while pleasuring yourself."

Big Macintosh's eyes widened in surprise, but he remained composed. "So what if you know? Ain't nothin' to be ashamed of, I reckon."

Pinkie Pie felt a flush of excitement at his response. She hadn't expected him to be so open about his secret pastime. But by Celestia, she wasn't about to give up just yet.

"Well, Big Mac, how about this? If you help me with my special project, I won't spill the beans to Applejack. I'll keep your little secret between us," Pinkie proposed.

Big Macintosh scratched his chin with his hoof, contemplating her offer. "Hmm, I appreciate the thought, it’s mighty appealin’, but I reckon I'll pass on your project, Pinkie. I doubt Applejack would mind if she found out anyway."

Pinkie Pie's determination grew stronger. She wasn't going to let Big Macintosh slip away that easily. She decided to up the ante.

Pinkie Pie's smile faltered for a moment, and then a mischievous glint appeared in her blue eyes. "Well, Big Mac, I happen to know another, even worse, little secret of yours."

Big Mac's eyes widened with surprise, and he sat up straighter, suddenly alert. "What secret would that be, little missy?"

Pinkie Pie leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I know you've been stealing Apple Bloom's old bows and keeping them in a cardboard box in your tool shed."

Big Mac's face flushed with embarrassment, and he stammered, "How did you...? Ah mean, those are just... uh..."

Pinkie Pie giggled, her voice dripping with menace. "Oh, I know exactly what you've been doing with them, Big Mac. I've seen those beautiful little stains you've left on those bows, although I guess they’re not so little. You've been 'finishing' on them after getting off, haven't you? I’m sure you ‘use’ them too, you dirty stallion."

Big Mac's eyes widened in shock, his cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red. "Pinkie, you can't tell anypony about this! It's plum embarrassing!"

"Well, Big Mac, if you want to keep your little secret safe, you'll have to agree to help me with my project,” Pinkie Pie grinned, her excitement mounting.

Big Mac hesitated for a moment, his mind racing. Finally, he let out a defeated sigh. "Alright, Pinkie. Ah'll help you. Just promise me you won't tell anypony about this."

Pinkie Pie clapped her hooves together with glee. "Yay! You won't regret it, Big Mac! Now let's get started on our special project!"

Pinkie Pie led the muscular red stallion through the streets of Ponyville, her hooves tapping excitedly on the ground. They arrived at Rarity's elegant boutique, where Sweetie Belle was still fast asleep. Pinkie Pie wore a mischievous grin as she blindfolded Big Mac and gently guided him inside.

"Pinkie, where are we? What's goin’ on? Please tell me!" Big Mac entreated.

"Shh, Big Mac. Trust me, it's all part of the plan. You're in for a surprise. I think you’ll like it," Pinkie whispered in his ear, her breath warm against his skin.

Big Mac's muscles tensed beneath his coat as he followed Pinkie's lead, his heart pounding in his chest. He had no idea what awaited him behind that blindfold, but he couldn't deny the rush of anticipation coursing through his veins.

As they entered Sweetie Belle’s room, Pinkie gently checked the blindfold, making sure that the black cloth she had tied around his eyes was firmly in place. On the bed before Pinkie and Big Mac, Rarity’s little sister lay peacefully, tucked into her sheets.

"Well, how about now? Will you just tell me what yer gettin’ me into for Pete’s sake? What in tarnation is going on, Pinkie?" Big Mac's voice wavered.

"Well, surprise, Big Mac! I got you a sex toy. It’s a life size model of a filly, so you never have to feel lonely or use your hooves anymore, and I know how much you enjoy…well, doing it! So we’re going to have a little fun with our silicone friend here," Pinkie whispered, her voice laced with excitement.

Big Mac's eyes widened under the black cloth of the blindfold, his cheeks flushing with a mix of arousal and uncertainty. "Pinkie, I don't know about this. It just don’t seem right...and why the blindfold? And why at Rarity’s house?"

"Oh, come on, Big Mac, you big silly stud. Live a little! It'll be a thrilling experience, I promise. Just let go and enjoy the moment," Pinkie coaxed. “And as for the blindfold, I just don’t want you to get too self-conscious. Being blindfolded keeps things simple. After all, it was Rarity who did all the designing for this little toy; she wanted you to have it as a gift of gratitude for the apple cider your family gave her last Christmas.”

A sense of conflict flickered in Big Mac's eyes, but the allure of the forbidden was too strong to resist. He took a deep breath and just accepted the situation he was in, endeavoring to make the best of things.

"Alright, Pinkie. Let's do it. Let's have our fun," he murmured.

“Yay, I knew you would come around!”

“So what do yah want me to do?”

“Wait just one second, Big Mac, let me just get everything ready for you.”

In that instant, Pinkie deftly pulled aside the sheets covering Sweetie Belle and spread her legs open, dragging the filly over slightly to position her crotch at the very edge of the bed.

“Things should be all set for you, Big Mac. Now, it’s going to feel very lifelike. Rarity spent lots of money on it after all.”

Big Mac, blindfolded but guided by Pinkie's voice, reaches out for the “toy”. His hooves find Sweetie Belle’s delicate frame, exploring the soft curves of her body. He caresses her skin, feeling the warmth radiating from her.

“My o’ my, this doll…it really is mighty lifelike,” Big Mac tells Pinkie.

Sweetie Belle’s unconscious form does little to respond under Big Mac's touch as he makes his first hesitant forays into the “doll”; however, her body responds rhythmically by bouncing from the sheer force of his every stroke. Although imperceptible to the red stallion, her breathing becomes more ragged and sporadic as air is forced out of her involuntarily with each of Big Mac’s powerful thrusts.

Pinkie, watching the scene unfold, can't help but feel a surge of excitement. She guides Big Mac's hooves softly to the “doll’s” breasts near its crotch, urging him to squeeze and tease its sensitive flesh.

With a firm grip, Big Mac pulls Sweetie Belle closer, their bodies now pressing against each other. He hungrily captures her lips in a passionate kiss.

“Wow, Rarity sure as hay thought of everythin’! The doll’s even got heated lips! It’s like the thing’s alive!”

Big Mac, guided by his own instincts and the intoxicating scent of his designer-made “doll”, composes himself once again, centering his body and his now fully-engorged dark member at the entrance of Sweetie Belle’s rose-pink slit. With a primal growl, he thrusts deep inside her with full force, filling her completely while only putting in just under a half of his full length.

Pushing deeper and deeper, he tried forcing more of his stallioncock into the “toy”, caring little about how he had to stretch the object to reach an optimal depth.

“Gosh darn it, Pinkie. Rarity is a good designer, but this thing is just plum too small…and way too tight, I reckon.”

“Well, it’s the first time you’re using it after all, Big Mac. You have to stretch it out a bit.”

“Well, I guess I can try to get it to stretch as best as I can,” he said, driving with even more force into Sweetie Belle’s flower.

As Big Mac tried to work his member in and out, trying to stretch the “doll” with rougher motions as if breaking in a horseshoe, thrusting into Sweetie’s tight center, his excitement at the new sensation created a veritable symphony of sounds. The rhythmic slapping of their bodies colliding echoes through the air, accompanied by Big Mac's deep grunts of satisfaction and effort as he attempted to keep going despite the friction that continued to build amidst the stallion's repetitive motions.

The room was saturated with the intoxicating scent of Big Mac’s desire, a heady mixture of musk and arousal. The red stallion’s skin glistens with a sheen of sweat as his body moves together with Sweetie Belle’s as her hips pulsed unconsciously from his thrusts. The slickness of their connection amplified the sensation of every pump; Sweetie’s nethers were now wet with the stallion’s copious pre-ejaculate and Big Mac could certainly feel it, intensifying the pleasure that coursed through his veins.

With each deep thrust, Big Mac could feel the tightness and warmth of Sweetie’s inner depths, a velvet embrace that engulfed him completely. The tight grip of her walls around him intensified his pleasure, pushing him closer to the rapidly approaching edge.

As Big Mac now indulged at full tilt with his new favorite “object” in the world, the room seemed to come alive with vibrant hues. The soft glow of the dimmed lights casted a warm, golden hue over their ponies’ entwined bodies, adding an air of sensuality to the scene.

Sweetie Belle’s flushed skin takes on a rosy hue that poked through her white coat, her cheeks tinted with a delicate blush that spread across her face and down her neck, indicating a subconscious, automatic response from her body with her mind no wiser to what was happening to her.

Big Mac's muscular frame was highlighted by the play of shadows and light. The sweat that glistened on his skin caught the gentle illumination from the moon which entered the window of Sweetie Belle’s room, creating a mesmerizing shimmer.

The red stallion was panting heavily now, trying to keep himself from moaning too loudly as his strong hooves gripped Sweetie Belle’s slender waist as he thrust into her with a primal force. The blindfold over his eyes heightened his other senses, making each movement and touch more intense.

Although it was clear to Pinkie that Big Mac was enjoying himself, she could tell he was still holding back a little.

“Come on Big Mac, go ahead, really enjoy yourself! You work all day; why not just let loose for once?”

“Well, Ah wouldn’t want to break the darn thing, now would I?” retorted Big Mac.

“Don’t worry,” Pinkie answered, stifling a laugh. “It’s just a doll after all. Go as hard as you want…just imagine it’s Apple Bloom.”

With that, Pinkie could see a notable change in Big Mac's pace as his frustration and pent-up energy fueled his movements. When he heard Apple Bloom’s name, he was not only driven sexually berserk by thinking of his younger sister, but the name also carried with it a darker tone. Apple Bloom always looked up to Applejack, the hero of the Apple family. He was tired of all the times he was treated like nothing more than a dumb farmhand, a far second best after the oft-lauded Applejack; he felt like a pony who was always overlooked, a pony who was forever pigeonholed into working in the hot sun, never getting the chance to do what he wanted to do. In this moment, he wanted to show that he was in control and no matter how much Apple Bloom idolized her older sister, it was her older brother that held the real power. With Big Mac’s desire to break free from the constraints that had held him back for so long, he continued to drive with an unmatched intensity, imagining Apple Bloom beneath his frame. With each thrust, he felt a surge of power, reclaiming control over his own pleasure and fulfilling his own desires.

"Harder, Big Mac," Pinkie encouraged. "Give it to her."

Big Mac, his muscles flexing with every powerful movement, complied eagerly. His cock throbbed inside Sweetie Belle, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

“Wow, look at him go,” Pinkie thought.

As if listening to her thoughts, Big Mac slammed into Sweetie Belle with an almost sadistic level of vigor, frightening Pinkie with his sheer power.

“Wow, that escalated quickly,” she muttered to herself under her breath. “I mean, this is really getting out of hoof fast!”

Lost in the moment, Big Mac surrendered himself completely, his heart and soul poured into the passionate act. He moved in and out of the filly so fast that, unbeknownst to him, he was bruising her entire nether region and introducing so much friction through his movement that the skin of the foal's lower lips started to bleed.

Soon, Big Mac's thrusts became more forceful and erratic, his body trembling with a mix of pent-up energy, anger, and frustration. Each movement was fueled by an intensity that bordered on frenzy as Sweetie Belle, caught in the storm of a grown-up stallion’s passion without her knowledge, laid there unconscious, as peaceful as an angel.

The room filled with the raw sound of their bodies colliding, the rhythm now punctuated by increasingly loud growls and grunts from Big Mac. Each thrust was a release, a way for him to channel his inner turmoil and let it out in a primal, almost animalistic manner.

His grip on the foal tightened, his hooves digging roughly now into her skin, leaving faint marks of his new possession. He wanted to claim her, to dominate her, to show the world that he was more than just a farmhand, that he had desires and needs that deserved to be met, whether by a real filly or by his new “doll”.

With each savage pump, Big Mac's anger and frustration dissipated for a few milliseconds before returning with a vengeance, replaced for those brief intervals by a sense of liberation and conquest of a new sexual frontier that, for once in his life, was not merely his hooves (or Pinkie Pie).

As Pinkie realized Big Mac was toeing the line of his climax, Pinkie realized she didn’t want a repeat of the pregnancy issue she created mere weeks earlier.

“Big Mac!” Pinkie screamed, realizing her mistake. “I forgot to tell you, the doll is still very fragile on the inside and shouldn’t get stained. Rarity still has to work out some details. Don’t cum inside of it!”

“Hnnggh, Ah don’t know if I can do it, Pinkie, I’m gonna cum ‘bout right now…” he grunted under his breath.

Pinkie could see the stallion’s pace accelerating as he entered the domain of his climax; instinctively, Pinkie put her hooves on him, attempting to pull him off of Sweetie Belle.

“No, Big Mac, don’t do it! You can’t; you’ll ruin her!”

“I can, and I sure as hay will!” he answered, not slowing down at all. “After all, what’s the worst ol’ Rarity will do?”

Big Mac momentarily turned his focus back to his pleasure and the pace of his thrusts.

“RARITY WILL HAVE YOUR HEAD FOR THIS! Don’t forget that she’s a unicorn. She’ll magically curse you for sure!”

"Nah, more like chew me out, and I've been chewed out before,” answered the stallion nonchalantly as he returned to the more pleasurable affairs in front of him.

In the chaos of trying to move, or at least shift, the large stud, Pinkie tried to push Big Mac off of Sweetie Belle, but in the process did little more than shove Big Mac just hard enough to loosen the blindfold that initially sat snugly under his forelock.

Knowing that the blindfold was going to fall off of his face, but already quite accustomed to the lack of visual stimuli, the stallion closed his eyes as his hips started to buck beyond the influence of what his mind could consciously control.

Within seconds, his blindfold had fallen to the checkered bedroom floor and the stallion’s orgasm had started in earnest as he emptied out a flood of white, virile horse semen into Sweetie Belle’s flower, driving his hips flush with her crotch and staying as close to her body as he could manage.

As the red stallion slowly pried opened his eyes after reaching satisfaction, he was floored.

“Oh…mah…Celestia! W-what have Ah done? PINKIE! What have you made me do?”

Pinkie was about to answer when she heard a strange creaking from the door behind her…