Chapter 2.5: The Redheart Domination
War. The rush of battle, the blood moving through the heart, dosing the muscles and brain with copious amounts of adrenaline, a blur of white and pink with another failed tackle and another messed up bookcase. This mare was fast, but he couldn’t let her see his back.
She was fast, but not quick enough. The blood rushing to his head made him feel dizzy, but every sense sharpened to a fever pitch. Speaking of fevers...
“Had enough yet, Whooves?” She whispered, dodging another tackle from her pursuer. To get his hooves on that wonderful body, to see those diamond eyes up close, feel her heartbeat race against his; it was a prize he wouldn’t give up easily, by Celestia no. This war was waged with a horrid fate for the loser, but the look in her eyes told him volumes.
Funny, her eyes were the subject of many things in Whooves’ mind. How they’d look rolled back in her head, their half-closed stare forcing his own sight blurry and pink, and how they so easily marked where she was. Then again, it was kind of hard to miss her moans with that bloody black appendage sticking out from under her.
“Hardly, my dear... I’m just getting started!” He tackled again, being dodged again. This mare was fast... it was an irritatingly obvious fact. His head crashed into the wall, and dizziness overtook sharpened senses for a moment.
A moment that Redheart took immediately.
She was on his back in an instant, the appendage luckily missing its mark. It slammed into his stomach, serving as a far larger warning than something landing on his back, and Whooves rolled over in response. They both crashed into the floor, Redheart grunting with the impact, and pushed away. They both jumped to their hooves at almost the same moment, and stared at each other. Their eyes wandered to the door as ears twitched in unison; no sounds... nopony was coming, but it would take an army to break up this fight.
Whooves wasn’t sure what drove Redheart in this battle; she was stressed. The kindest mare in the hospital had to be the one with the most responsibility... maybe a fight is what she wanted? For Whooves, the simple drive to start his relationship at all shoved him forward. They both took a cautious step towards each other, every movement happening in perfect unison.
Great minds think alike, he supposed, though it was hard to read what was going on in the mare’s mind right now. Their unified movements continued, drawing closer, moving left in a slow circle. Their muzzles came within breathing distance as they passed each other, glares met with heated breaths, released by smiles.
“What’s the matter, my dear? You’re looking a bit exhausted,” Whooves hissed, grinning. He was feeling the burn as well, pretty much everywhere. How could dodging in such a small place make for such good exercise?
“I’m not tired at all, just getting a bit annoyed,” She replied, charging forward. Whooves quickly sidestepped, keeping his eyes on her face, though the gap between him and the desk was far smaller than he first anticipated; perhaps his senses were dulling...
She crashed into him and ran them both up to their hind legs, slamming her victim into the wall. The appendage was stuck between them, and Whooves wrapped his forelegs around her torso, getting a response of her hugging his neck. “Well, that was quite a fight... I had no idea a nurse could move so well.”
“You haven’t seen anything yet, new colt... I haven’t even begun to break you in yet.”
“Done this before?”
“Plenty... always won.”
“Then perhaps it’s time you lost.”
A quick spin, and Redheart ground her back against the wall. A quick smooch on the neck served a double purpose; a quick gasp, and a check on her heartrate. Racing, as expected... combat was always about knowing the enemy.
Too bad a mare was always a mystery. The kiss was met with a quick snap of the jaws against Whooves’ neck, causing a wave of red through his rose-colored vision; did this mare eat sugar cane all day!?
“C’mon, just lay back, and it’ll be over quick,” Redheart whispered into Whooves’ ear, biting it. Whooves’ grimaced; what would put this mare down?
Coming to blows would just kill the fun. What would make her stop and surrender? So long as that appendage was pinned, he could think. A slight push against his stomach caught his attention.
Was she rubbing up against him?
"C'mon, colt," she grunted, biting down harder. The red came back in Whooves' eyes, the shock of pain crashing against the walls of his mind. He had to do something to at least quiet her down! The pain was killing his fun anyway, maybe it was time to return the favor.
Bite her.
What?
She's biting you. Bite her.
Bu-
Another flash of red as she bit down further. A deep breath passed by Whooves' ear, a growing pressure around his neck.
Just do it, you idiot!
With a deep breath and a prayer that things go right for once, he whipped forward, ear yanking out from Redheart's grip. His jaws clamped down on her neck, crushing down.
A tremble and a gasp. He looked up, catching the corner of her eye; can’t really see anything. He pulled away to get a better look, only to have a hoof slam into the back of his head and yank him back down to her neck.
“Don’t you dare stop,” she growled. He bit down again, inciting a delightful giggle, and something wet dripped onto his cheek. Was she drooling? He mumbled into her neck, a tingle reverberating through her coat.
He pulled off to speak, resisting the pull of her hoof. “Dear, we really shouldn’t do this here.”
“There’s still that room I mentioned,” she whispered, giving the bite mark on his ear a quick lick, “Nopony will disturb us there...”
Whooves smirked; a private battlefield with no chance of observation or interruption? He couldn’t dream of a better place to kick this relationship off. The romance could wait, this mare needed stress relief... and luckily, he was well-equipped for that task.
The two broke their embrace, Whooves following instinct and backing away from the thing under Redheart. A look back up to his affection’s face tugged at him; the look in those diamonds was hungry, screaming for him to close the gap and submit, and the pull nearly took him.
He was just as hungry, and anything to cease this game and get down to things was an option worth taking. The only thing that pushed him away from his dream was that black head sticking out from under Redheart’s chest, much like a dragon guarding a sought-after treasure. And just like a dragon, it would have to be removed.
“Lead the way, my dear,” Whooves bowed, stepping to the right, “But perhaps we should leave that here?”
“Oh my, no... I’d much rather have you tear it off my flank with your teeth,” She whispered as she passed him, her tail flicking up into his nose. His eye twitched as a grin crossed his face again, and he quickly followed her out, giving the door behind him almost too hard a kick in his absence of mind.
During the walk to... wherever Redheart was taking him, Whooves’ eyes had many targets of interest besides the flank of the mare in front of him. They were still in a hospital, and the Nurse had a rather revealing strap-on bouncing against her belly with every step. Just how would they explain that if somepony found them?
Still, whenever a doctor, or another nurse passed by, the pair would always find an interesting way to hide their intentions; jamming the end of the dildo in a cloth covered cart while Whooves leaned beside Redheart, covering up the leather panties. Quickly running into the bathroom at the sound of hoof steps. One time they even hid it as a chiropractic exercise on a low table, Whooves splayed out with one of his hind legs brought past Redheart’s flank, faking a stretch. The doctor walking passed stopped for a moment, brow furrowed, as if calculating the likelihood of physical therapy happening outside a hospital room.
Given that they weren’t tossed out the front door, each holding papers saying they were ‘fired with extreme prejudice’, their ploy worked as the doctor happily carried on with his day; he even whistled a happy tune! What a nice overture for what the two souls in the hall were about to experience. The two smiled at each other, Redheart rubbing her hip up against Whooves’ leg, and she tapped his chest with the long black appendage; he still had that to deal with, didn’t he?
The two carried on for a bit of a longer walk than Whooves first anticipated; was this all theatrics, or was this room in some abandoned wing of the hospital? The thought of an abandoned storage room, in some arse end wing where he could make her scream as loud as he wanted passed through his mind. It was wrong to think this way, but by Celestia it really set him running. The scene played out in his head, vivid flashes in his mind; a hot room, things falling over as the two partners changed positions, fighting for dominance... him on top, then rolled over by her, yet never separating.
A constant rhythm with yelps and moans in the dark, long embraces and hurried paces, locked lips and wrestling tongues. They all ceased when he received a tap on the nose from Redheart’s... black friend. He jerked awake and backed away, looking back up at her face.
“Awake now?”
“Apologies... thoughts have a way of distracting me.”
“I’m sure they do... all colts complain about that when they meet me,” Redheart smirked, turning back to face the double doors behind her. They were double doors, weren’t they? They looked more like a single, really wide wall... the seam was either rusted over, or was it just part of the scenery?
His theory was dashed as Redheart pushed it open, quite easily at that; the hinges were even oiled... she kept this room in tip top shape, apparently. They both walked inside, finding the area mostly empty, save a single chest at the end of the room. A simple bed sat to the side, red splotches all over the mattress; alright, maybe she didn’t keep the room in as tip top shape as he first thought. The chest wasn’t adorned with the same paint job, though the ancient wood and rusted padlock seemed like a sealed treasure from a fairy tale, something left locked away for eons...
The slam of a door brought him back into reality, and he spun around. That same grin had returned, and they both stared at each other, excited. Redheart had a crazy glint in her eye; she had plans for the poor victim before her... and if the blood on the bed was any indication, it wasn’t going to be pleasant!
“Well then, my dear... shall we dance?” Whooves smirked, already thinking about how to remove the dragon and take his treasure.
“Let’s,” Redheart took a step forward, her flat tone absent of any form of kindness or fun. She was serious about her game, apparently... sadly, there had to be a winner, and that winner had to be the brown stallion. He quickly went over what she’d shown off thus far in his mind, heart racing with every close moment he’d shared during his analysis. A smile crossed his face as a plan built itself up, every clear detail appearing as another piece of the puzzle.
The two rounded each other in the center of the room, muzzles just inches away. Either one could have pounced right there and taken over, but they drew out their game all the same. It was exciting... the threat of that dragon, the taste of his treasure... all so close.
A mare pounced, the stallion knocked onto his back. The dragon snarled at his chin, and he grabbed her to hold it between them. They rolled, knocking something over, the sounds all adding to the war.
“Not going to give in, are you, dear?” Whooves whispered, chomping down on his lover’s neck. She hissed and grabbed his head, pressing his mouth into her.
“Never... though you’re the most competitive stallion I’ve had so far...!” She rolled again, planting Whooves back on the ground, and pulled back. A crazed smile grew on her face as Whooves shook, the dragon grinding along his stomach toward its goal. Panic set in as the red of pain and bloody screams tore through his mind; his screams!
With a grunt, he rolled again and planted Redheart on her back. He shoved himself up and sat down on the dragon, keeping it pinned to her stomach, and used his forehooves to hold Redheart down. The smile on his face said all he needed; she was helpless. Such a long fight, and he was finally close... so very close to the treasure he sought after. Now all that remained was to kill the dragon, and take the treasure.
Redheart stared back up at him, and something appeared in her eye, something that shook Whooves to the core. He recoiled slightly as the mare struggled under him, brow furrowed, her knife-sharp glare aimed straight at his face. He pressed down harder and moved his hind legs out for balance, staring straight into the crazed diamonds.
“You sure don’t know how to take a loss, nurse...!” He grunted, trying to hold her down; this mare was strong! He spread his legs out further, every shove becoming stronger. This wasn’t a game to her anymore, this was a death struggle!
“Get off! I-I never lose!” She shouted, manically flailing under Whooves.
She wrestled ever harder, trying to take control of the situation back from the stallion on her stomach. She rolled and fought, as if fighting for her life against somepony, and eventually got a hoof out from under her captor’s grip. She slammed it into his side and rolled back over, her grimace curving into a smile as she was pulled down, keeping the dragon between them, “I’m not about to lose to you, pretty colt...”
“Neither am I,” Whooves hissed back, and he pulled her down to the ground, being stopped half way by her hoof. Another grabbed him by the head as she pushed up and out of his grip; ok, she wasn’t strong, this was Herculean! He struggled against her pushing until he felt something tap against his lips, and his eyes went wide with shock.
“I thought you said you weren’t gonna lose!?” She hissed and pushed, that damnable black dragon poking against Whooves’ mouth. He moved his head off to the side before the next thrust, it passing his head like a javelin before being drawn back. Redheart slammed down onto his lap, crushing something against his gut. His face contorted in pain; how easy is it to forget you’re aroused!? He struggled against her as she retook her aim, Redheart keeping the stallion’s head clamped against her chest.
“Ah, ah, ah... I’ve always gotta start with the mouth, otherwise this becomes really difficult... and really painful...” she whispered, licking her lips as she thrust again, tapping her target. Whooves grabbed her by the side she was using to hold herself up, and rolled back over, trapping the dragon against his chest.
“I will win this war, Redheart... it’s only a matter of time,” he hissed, getting back up on her stomach. That same flailing came back as rage filled her eyes; it only ever happened while he was on top. What’s with her?! “Having problems, nurse?”
“Get off me, you sick-” she stopped herself with a quick blink, staring into Whooves’ bewildered face, “G-Get off me, Whooves! I’m supposed to win!”
“Not today, because if you do win, then I’m not gonna be able to sit down for a month!” He slammed down on her forelegs and pressed them behind Redheart’s head, leaning in close. Her breath felt like magma across his muzzle, her glare even more heated in his eyes, “I’m not about to sacrifice my ability to walk just so you can keep your perfect win streak.”
Was it possible for that glare to get even scarier? Apparently the answer was yes, as Redheart’s pupils shrank, and with new vigor, pushed back against Whooves like a bear trap. He shoved down harder, trying in vain to keep her down, but he was quickly kicked up onto the bed behind them, the old springs in the mattress exclaiming their discomfort of the new weight on them. Redheart quickly followed and clamped down on Whooves, the head of the dragon held against his tail.
“You lose, Whooves...” Redheart smiled, nuzzling his ear, “And I’m going to make sure we both enjoy this...”
“Like Tartarus you will...!” Whooves hissed and rolled, actually thankful for once of the dragon’s length; a quick kick of the hind leg, and it was out of the danger zone. Another sweep from his spare leg, and Redheart lost her balance as he grabbed her in an embrace. With a final smirk, he pulled her in and locked lips, quickly issuing an invasion of the territory now open to him.
Redheart quickly took up the defense and wrestled with him, stomping into the mattress as she tried to pull her hind legs back around. Their tongues crashed into each other, trying to push the other back into its castle, but a stalemate was quickly reached at the center. The glares didn’t weaken as the mare tried to find room for her legs, only to be denied by a tightening of the embrace or a swift kick from the stallion below her.
One mind swam in a lake of rage from this undue attention, while the other tried to pull away from the pleasure of battle and think of a plan of attack; the dragon still had to be dealt with, and there was no getting to the treasure with it still on her flank! He pushed and rolled, almost throwing Redheart onto the floor, and her hooves found purchase on his chest. The two struggled against each other, the stallion’s grip finally loosening as Redheart threw herself from the bed. She backed off, lowering herself into a charging stance, and burrowed holes into her opponent with her eyes.
Whooves simply stared back as he rolled onto his belly, brow furrowed. Was this still a game to her? And was it simply stress relief anymore? He knew he had to win, but what would he have to do in order to ensure victory?
He didn’t have long to think before she started charging, and pounced on him. The two crashed into each other, Redheart trying to wrap her legs in a clamp around her stallion, and they wrestled for control. The bed wordlessly complained to the duo, but its continued cries fell on deaf ears. Finally, a winner came out and slammed their victim back into the mattress with a final grunt of effort.
The stallion looked down at his mare as he pushed her forelegs up against the side of her head, holding them down. His grin just wouldn’t vanish as he stared down upon his prize, the dragon pressed down under his flank.
“What’re you smiling at?” Redheart hissed as Whooves leaned in, taking in the view of those gems he held so dear.
“Just smiling at you, love... because you’ve finally been beaten,” his smile only grew with this as he kissed her. She pulled away and turned her head, brow furrowed; this mare just wouldn’t accept defeat, would she?
“Quit grinning like you’ve won, Whooves, this fight’s far from over!”
“No... I’d say it just ended. You’re pinned, unable to move, and your precious dragon is pinned with you. No weapons, no movement, no chance... just accept it, and let me help you with your stress problem...” he whispered through a toothy smile, pecking her on the cheek. Her grimace simply intensified, and she started struggling again.
“I’m not giving up, never giving up! Surrender isn’t an option here!”
“No, it isn’t for me, but it is for you. You have nothing to lose here, nurse... while I’ve got my lower torso’s capability to actually function to worry about,” Whooves pressed down harder, and quickly brought his flank up. Redheart struggled a bit before he sat back down, hard, the dragon crushing on her stomach. She let out her breath in a hiss and collapsed onto the bed, her glare at Whooves softening slightly.
“You... bastard...”
“You lose, Redheart... I know you’re stressed out here, and I am as well. Why don’t we just help each other?”
"Because I'm helping me, and you're helping me. There is no helping you."
"Funny how this started because you wanted to discuss paperwork with me..."
“This started because I always do this to the new colts... it puts them in their place.”
“And this ‘colt’ has put you in your place. I don’t see why you’re being so aggressive about this, and why you hate losing so much.”
“Figures, you stallions never understand,” She hissed, her glare heating back up. Whooves shoved down harder, his own anger boiling in the black depths of his mind. The two came within inches of each other, visages of anger, but Whooves simply couldn’t compete with the face-melting stare Redheart held on him, “You never get it...”
“What I don’t get is why our game has turned into a dreaded battle for dominance. I thought it was foreplay with you, but that’s not the reason you do this, is it? Why do you do this to stallions if it isn’t simply for stress relief?”
“Oh, it is for stress relief. My stress relief.”
“So you leave a stallion hanging in the wind while you get off? That’s rather cruel.”
“It was no different before...”
“Oh? Then perhaps you’ll enlighten me so I can understand your plight, Nurse Redheart. Unless you believe me to be unworthy of such information.”
“Don’t dare speak to me like that.”
“Then speak to me so I don’t have to... I do want to understand, Redheart. This goes deeper than I think, doesn’t it?”
She stared into his eyes, their breathing finally levelling out. Her struggles levelled out to occasional twitches, then she finally fell slack. Whooves brought his hooves off the mare and held them at her sides, still sitting on the black appendage between them. “Talk to me, Redheart...”
“There’s nothing to say... this is a game to me,” she looked away, finding the wall more worthy of her sight than the stallion on top of her.
“A game doesn’t become what it was just now... ever since you slammed that door there, the concept of ‘fun’ was thrown out the window for you. The realization hit me a little while after... I was afraid, damn it!”
“Oh please, you were grinning like an idiot throughout this!”
“Adrenaline has a way of affecting the fight or flight response, and I find danger to be quite entertaining. Fear was a constant backdrop on that excitement, however... and fear is what I saw when I had you pinned earlier. Fear, and rage.”
“I was afraid I was going to lose my perfect win streak, and pissed off for the exact same reason.”
Whooves sighed, looking down at the dildo between them. A valiant guardian of the treasure... but perhaps that treasure wasn’t worth chasing. By Tartarus, it was fully capable of protecting itself.
“See something you want?” Redheart hissed, and Whooves looked up to meet her gaze.
“... Not anymore. This is much more important to you than I first thought... right now, all I want to hear is an explanation, and maybe leave with my anus intact. This game, this war we just had... how many stallions have ‘played’ with you?”
“... Five. I won every time.”
“Five stallions that had to take this thing?” Whooves tapped the dildo.
“And they took every inch... I made sure they left with a smile, however,” Redheart grinned.
“That’s vile.”
“That’s necessary.”
“Bollocks, and you know it!”
“Shut up, stallion! I don’t need to hear any chastising from somepony who doesn’t even understand a mare!”
“I’m willing to try, if you’ll just give me the chance!”
Redheart launched up towards Whooves, knocking him off her. He landed on his flank just in front of her, the dildo batting against his chest, and the two simply butted heads. All notion of victory or defeat vanished from them both, and the glares intensified with every second, wills sharpened to blades. Their final confrontation was to be a simple staring competition, a battle of solidarity; who would falter first?
The room held its breath as silence fell over the duo in the dark, their staring competition boring holes into the opposites head. They pressed harder against the others forehead, not giving an inch as they both battled for control of the same hill. Funny how this battle exploded so far out of proportion... all Whooves wanted was some time alone with the target of his affection... and now, he was trying to kill her with his eyes alone.
Granted, she was trying to do the same, but he couldn’t help but soften as he gazed into the diamond irises of the nurse. His hate stood on such a shaky foundation that he could hardly believe he hated her at all; she wanted to pound his rear end into oblivion, and that’s definitely reason to be angry... but it had to go deeper than that, didn’t it? This was an issue for her.
“Redheart...” Whooves grimaced slightly, his glare softening, but he maintained his push against her forehead, “Something’s troubling you...”
“And what of it? Why should it interrupt our game here?”
“Because the game ended as soon as we left your office... and it’s taken me until now to realize just how serious you are about breaking me. You’ve had problems with stallions in the past, haven’t you?”
Her glare faltered slightly before building back up again, though her push weakened. “... You’re wrong. This is all my choice...”
“You have had problems... somepony forced themselves upon you?”
“No.”
“Then you were mistreated? A bad relationship with a stallion who didn’t really love you?”
She shook again, her push weakening further. “Shut up.”
“I’m not like him, Redheart...!”
“You’re all the same!”
“Then let me break the mold and prove I’m somepony different! Because I know damn well there’s a problem, and I wouldn’t leave an associate... a friend hanging in the wind when something has her.”
Her resistance fell away with the statement, and he lightened his shove. Her glare fought to maintain its strength, and the diamonds shook as they fought to perceive some manner of fear, some hint that this stallion didn’t understand her, that he was lying. He had to be lying! But his eyes never drew away, never weakened in their search, never fell back in realization of a mistake. All he did was keep his forehead against hers, and search her eyes... the glare wasn’t even there anymore.
Her gaze softened, and she let out a sigh. She pushed Whooves back and slid back along the bed, keeping her eyes to the mattress. Her gaze moved to the appendage resting against her chest like a loyal guardian, the dragon that held Whooves’ attention for so long as a threat. She ran a hoof along it, petting it as if it were some loyal pup, rather than an implement of torture. “Redheart?”
“Care... my name is Care Redheart...” she placed her hooves back onto the bed, not pulling her eyes off the mattress. The furrowed brow returned, her gaze aimed to simply force spontaneous combustion in the mattress.
“... Care...”
“Don’t speak... you won, just like you said. I’m done playing... so do what you want with me,” she spoke with venom in her voice, and her eyes turned to the wall. She got up and turned, raising her flank high, and simply stared at the door.
Whooves blinked, staring. His prize was being... surrendered to him? The instinctual pull towards the mare drew him to his hooves, but his morality stopped him in his tracks. The mare looked back at him, a look of disgust having replaced the enraged glare from before.
“What? Don’t like mares?”
No response... he simply blinked, then looked down to her face. He sighed, forcing himself to sit back down.
“What’s with you? You won, I thought you wanted to get us both off?”
“This isn’t a victory, Care... this is just... wrong. When we were still in the office, it would’ve been fun, enjoyable... now, it just feels... I can’t even describe it.”
“Well, if you don’t want to accept victory... I can,” Redheart smiled, her glare coming back as her flank lowered. Two hooves clamped onto her flank and held her up however, Whooves’ speed surprising even himself. He grabbed the strap of leather running over her crotch and yanked, stripping her of the dragon who’d guarded her for so long, before grabbing it in one of his hooves and pulling it out from under Redheart. He tossed it aside and sat back.
“Feel free to go get it and keep fighting... but until I understand what’s wrong... what hurt you before... then I can’t do this,” he shook his head, keeping his eyes locked on the mare. She simply stared back, her glare changing from a surprised glance to a full-on spear to the head at random intervals, and her legs refused to move.
“What in Tartarus is wrong with you...? You win.”
“If this is how I win, then I’d rather lose... taking a mare like this would just be adding insult to injury.”
“Don’t you dare tempt me...”
“Then don’t insult me. I’m a stallion that was brought up right... and though I was swept away by the promise of spending some time alone with... you... I simply can’t bring myself to do this,” he sighed, trying to hold his eyes on Care. His voice came out as level, calm, almost hurt... the fun of the game died a long time ago, and now, it was just a pony trying to deal with a problem.
Redheart blinked, lowering her flank to the bed. Her eyes left Whooves’ and went over to the dragon across the room, lying there in defeat. Her mind competed over what to do, whether to punish this stallion and make him wish he’d never been born, to just run away, or to accept that some stallions really could be different... different from that black pegasus who had stolen her heart and never gave it back.
Could they be? Could a stallion really be trusted...? What if they just hurt her again? Turned their back on her when she needed them most? Where would she be then?
Out of a job? Out of a house? Out of everything she held on to? Was it worth the risk of trusting this stallion?
“Damn it...” she whispered to herself, her gaze upon the defeated dragon breaking. She looked to the door; breaking this stallion would just help to prove his point... the option of leaving seemed proper. She had nothing to give to this stallion, nothing she owed him. A win was superficial, it meant nothing; just a game she lost, that’s all.
So why was it so hard to leave? This stallion meant nothing to her. Nothing! He was just the one that got away! So move, hooves! Move!
She shook, willing herself to get out of the room and never look at this stallion again, but her body refused to respond. She could feel Whooves’ gaze digging into the back of her head, and it all just drove her further over the edge. “Quit staring at me.”
That damn silence again! Talk, you bastard!
“I said, quit staring at me!”
“Apologies... still trying to figure out how to help you,” Whooves rubbed his foreleg as Redheart looked back at him, and his eyes moved to the floor.
“What’s my past to you, anyway?”
“Something very important... something that’s troubling me just as much as you.”
“That’s a load of it, and you know it.”
“Perhaps my pain isn’t the same as yours... but I can’t just sit here and do nothing. I know you’re troubled, and I want to help... please...”
“You can’t do a thing. The past is the past... and that’s that. I don’t owe you anything.”
“True... but I don’t want to leave you in pain either. That anger in your eyes from earlier, that skull-splitting hatred... it wasn’t something borne of your defeat, or even the game itself. It was targeted at me, at what I am.”
“And what are you? Huh?” Redheart looked back at the door, still trying to leave. Why couldn’t this stallion just shut up and let her leave?
“I’m somepony who wants to help, and I believe I have the capabilities to help you. All you have to do is trust in me. Believe me, I want to help you, seeing you like this tears me up inside.”
“I already said, you can’t do anything...”
“And that the past is the past... if I can’t change what happened, then maybe I can change what will. Let me in, Care... let me change what you think of stallions, and take away what your past did to you.”
“You can’t.”
“We don’t know that until I try... and I will damn well try,” Whooves stomped the bed, pulling his gaze back to Care. She simply looked away at the wall, and his teeth grit in frustration; what would it take to get this mare to open up? His eyes moved about the room in thought, before settling on the dragon he’d spent so long to defeat. Was that really an option...?
He could try talking to her for hours and get nowhere... perhaps actions would speak louder?
He got up and hopped off the bed, walking over to the defeated dragon. He picked it up in his hooves, looking over the length of it. She did wash the thing, didn’t she? He gave it a quick sniff; either it hadn’t seen use in a long time, or it really was clean. He took one of the straps in his mouth and dragged it back to the bed, Redheart watching him the whole way.
“You’re one screwed up stallion,” she hissed, turning to face him, “Can’t get off just using your cock, so you have to use mine?”
“That’s not why I’m bringing it,” Whooves laid it down next to the bed, and sat down, “This is my promise.”
“Promise of what?” She scoffed, smirking.
“My promise of if I fail to make your life better... if I fail to clear the stallion name, and you still believe the same of me, of every stallion in Equestria...”
Redheart blinked, staring at him.
“Then you can have your way with me... and use whatever you want. Break me, torture me... I don’t care, it would be a fitting punishment for a stallion who can’t make a mare happy.”
“You’re kidding me...” Redheart blinked in disbelief, a grimace coming back. Her brow furrowed and her voice rose, “You think just getting pounded by me is gonna pay me back!?”
“It will mean you won.”
“What?”
“Our game, Care... has become a lot bigger now. It’s no longer a game either... not to me. With everything, there is a set of consequences for victory and defeat. And my defeat...” he looked over at the dragon, his resolve barely leaving his eyes, “... Well, we both know what will happen if I am beaten.”
Insane. He’s insane. He has to be! There’s no way a stallion could tell the truth like this! He’s lying! LYING! He’s exactly like that pegasus! He’s just going to turn back on his promise and leave! Walk out on me again! He’s trying to trick me! H-He has to be! A stallion can’t possibly act like this!
Redheart shook slightly, eyes locked on the violet irises of the stallion before her, the target of all her hate, all her anger. He looked back and met her gaze, though no matter how much strength she put into her glare, no matter how much she just wanted his head to explode, or for him to feel pain... he never faltered, not even a centimeter. Not even as he walked up to the bedside.
Not even as he reached up and ran a hoof through her mane, gently pulling her head down. Not even as he kissed her. His gaze never faltered, never backed down.
The voice screaming about his deceit faded away as her focus blurred. She could barely move with her mind flying from extreme to extreme. He’s telling the truth, he’s lying, he’s the stallion to trust, he just wants to put a knife in your back, he wants to help, all he wants is a quick one-night stand and he’s gone... nothing ever solidified into a thought she wanted to follow.
Whooves pulled away, still staring into her eyes. She stared back, her breathing shallow as her mind tore itself to ribbons.
“I can help you, Care... you just have to let me.”
She kept on staring, not daring to make a response until she was sure. He simply held her gaze, letting time do its work, and her mind sort things out. Her eyes slowly lowered as her breathing levelled out, and she leaned in. She threw her forehooves around her stallion and kissed him full on, her tongue immediately crossing the threshold. Whooves leaned back in surprise; when did she get so into it!?
She yanked him back onto the bed, never breaking the kiss. Her eyes shut as her hooves ran down her stallion, finally reaching his flank and pulling him in. Whooves blinked in disbelief, but finally settled into it, returning the kiss. His hoof moved down her belly, reaching down between her hind legs, and rubbed against her outer lips, pushing in as he worked. Her breath hissed in as she pulled Whooves in, moving her hind leg that wasn’t trapped under the stallion so he had more room to work with. She rubbed herself against his hoof, pushing it deeper, and a blush crept up on her face.
Whooves finally wrenched his eyes open, looking over the mare’s face... she looked peaceful, simply taken away. It raised his spirits, the sickness of guilt falling away as he turned her onto the bed, laying his chest against hers. His hoof ran slick as he crept in toward her inner walls, and a small bump ran along the edge; he wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the sharp gasp and quick tug from Care. He ran his hoof down the full length of her vulva before coming back up to that bump, pressing down on it, relishing in the race of her heart and the sharpness of her breath.
Right now, it was all about her, as Whooves repeated his rubbing, simply finding solace in the pleasure of his lover. All about her right now...
Her eyes slowly opened as her blush reddened, those beautiful diamonds staring back into the velvet colors of her stallion, and her breath quickened. She finally broke the kiss and held him close, moving her hips up to try and force him to nick her clit again, to feel that lightning strike through her body. Her body language managed to get the message across as the hoof moved up to the top of her pussy and drew circles on the bulb, and she shook with each rotation.
“Faster...!” She whispered, taking Whooves’ ear in her teeth, her breaths reduced to quick hisses through her nose. He gladly followed the order, speeding up the rotations, though he was starting to wonder just how long this mare could last. His answer came as the mare’s grip on his neck became vice-like and her lips locked with his once more, rhythmic humps against his hoof, a high-pitched moan coming with each movement. She finally collapsed against the bed, her grip losing its final bout of strength, and she fell slack against the bed.
Her breaths came quick and ragged, but the look in her eyes still hungered for more. Her hooves ran along the Doctor’s sides, down to the inside of his hind legs, and a smile slowly grew on her lips as she stroked him.
It certainly wasn’t a heavenly act, but it did do something... oh dear Celestia, it was something...!
His breath came deep, trying to be calm but faltering, and she simply pulled harder. He stared down at her as her hoof came up to the base of his tail and gently pulled, bringing him down. Her other hoof moved up to his head and pulled, barely any resistance being given. His mind just locked...
“Rut me...” she whispered, and that was all the notice he needed. He adjusted himself so both of Care’s hind legs were outside his own, and lined up against her. So little attention had been given to him... and now she wanted to help him out? A gentle smile creeped across his lips as he pressed against her, and their lips locked again. The approach was slow, centimeter by centimeter; he wanted to enjoy this, oh so badly wanted to enjoy every moment... the head passed into her with a gasp, her breath entering with a hiss as he pushed in further. The path was getting smaller, but he pressed on all the same... Redheart broke the kiss and shoved her hips up, trying to get more of his dick in.
“C’mon...” she hissed, tightening her grip around Whooves’ neck, and her hind legs found his flank, “Put some soul into it... into me...!”
“I wouldn’t dare give you any less, love,” he pulled out halfway, Care’s walls dragging against him, trying to stop his escape. He drove back in with a smile, quickening his pace. Every stab of his lance into her was met with a gasp and a moan, every time going from head to hilt.
“That’s it... that’s it...! I’ll make you cum before me...” she hissed, clenching down on him. The pressure was heavenly, no wonder so many stallions claimed the ‘best nights of their lives’ were with their marefriends! Care’s sharp gasps and motivating whispers drove him faster, harder, his once leisurely walk towards the cliff now a mad bucking to the end. She wanted him to cum before her? Not if he had anything to say about it!
Granted, he didn’t have a whole lot to say; his mind melted in the pleasure of it all. The crushing pressure and friction of the walls he kept grinding up against distracted him at every turn, drowning him ever-quickening warm waves. She felt warm, like a fire at Hearth’s Warming Eve... her heart raced against his as they joined back in their kiss, and his pace levelled into a fast rhythm. One last victory... one last win... c’mon, Whooves, don’t give in now!
He looked into the diamonds, into Care as he carried on, and all want to just win left him... she’d already lost their game, and already shown mercy by the victor... it was time she won. With a moan, he closed his eyes and dove as deep as he could with the kiss, slowing his pace so he might reach the cliff faster. The edge came into sight in leaps and bounds, the abyss wailing below... and he jumped off with a smile on his face, and never looked back.
He remembered to pull out at least, that was one thing that didn’t become absent, and they both shared in his orgasm. Warm liquid hit both their bellies and chests, the farthest reaching strand stopping just at Redheart’s chin. Their breaths came ragged, but she was happy... they both were. His mission to simply get off with Redheart turned into something much larger... a mission that he was all too happy to carry out.
Make this mare happy... and he knew he could pull it off.
The smile on Care’s face gave him hope.