Kinky Sex Disasters

Late at night, at Fancy Pants' home in the first terrace at Canterlot, Fancy and Fleur de Lis were engaged in a serious conversation, both looking completely flustered, and bearing tremendous blushes which they avoided seeing by looking to the side.

“Well, ah, dear, the... the implements were discreetly delivered and assembled in the spare den. I have been assured from several of the peers it is the 'in' thing for the rich and landed to do. I must admit... I am at a loss. But... surely we can solve the riddle of such, can we not?”

Fleur nodded eagerly and clopped a hoof firmly on the floor. “B-but of course, Fancy darling. After all, we should not fear such an unknown. We are grown, mature ponies. Surely we may master this art known as... what was it called?”

“'BDSM' was the term I heard bandied about but for the life of me I cannot claim to know what the blasted letters mean. I can only presume they have some arcane meaning to the practitioners of this strange art. And surely some instruction must come with such things. How else would one become conversant with such things?”

“Indeed! Indeed... we certainly need not fear. Now then... well... it IS our night for intimacy. And you were assured that this was a manner of intimacy. You were assured that, were you not?”

“But of course I was. True, I am not sure what to think of the numerous winks and nudges they gave to one another but I assure you that I was told it was a most intimate thing. Now...” Fancy rose and motioned to the next room. “Let us go it it, darling.”

Fleur rose grandly and stepped into the room ahead of Fancy, gasping at the sight she found. The warm and cozy room had been transformed into quite a dark and dire place. Strange devices hung suspended from chains or stood, imposing, near the walls. A box of unknown contents rested at the far end of the room, while a rack near the door held a number of imposing implements. “Goodness me...”

“I say!” Fancy's monocle popped right off his face as he stared in shock at the state of his room. “I was not aware it was quite so... involved.”

“Where... where do we even start?”

“Well, I was given a 'crash course' as they say. Told useful phrases that could be used for such, general outlines and pointers. As I understand, speaking to your partner as though they are beneath you is in full propriety. As is something they call a 'safe word.' Some phrase or word stated when all activity is to cease. Suggestions are for very uncommon things that would be notable such as... 'papaya' or 'aubergine' or somesuch thing as that.”

“You are making me hungry, dear... though I know at least one instance in which the word 'aubergine' is used in intimate encounters. But I am sworn to secrecy. In any event... please do suggest something we may do.”

“Well, allow me to attempt one of the basic thoughts...” Lighting his horn, Fancy took a device off the wall. A paddle. It was polished well and made of light wood, with holes drilled in it.

“A paddle? This is hardly a school setting, darling.”

“Bear with me, dear. This may work.” Fancy cleared his throat, took a strong stance and cried, “Take that, you bad, bad filly!” He then let the paddle slap down with a massive crack against Fleur's derriere.

Fleur let out a mingled cry of shock and pain, looking back with a surprised stare. “Fancy! My word, how uncouth! And that hurt! My poor hind end!”

“Oh my darling! My dear I am terribly sorry!” Fancy was upon Fleur in an instant, tenderly kissing the stricken spot. “I don't understand. I was assured that if done in this context such an action would deliver untold pleasure!”

“That was hardly untold pleasure. I have more pleasure when we sport about in the hot tub. What other bit of ridiculousness have we available from all this rot?”

Fancy cudgeled his brain to recall all the details he had been told. “I do recall... yes! Please, attempt to mount that device which you see there.” Fancy indicated one of the things hung from the ceiling. It was a wooden wedge covered in a medium-thick cloth, chains at the four corners allowing it to dangle from the ceiling. For whatever odd aesthetic reasons it had been embellished with the carved wooden head of a pony wearing a blindfold and some kind of cloth over their mouth.

“How curious. As you well know I am unused to performing mounting duties.” Fleur circled the odd thing, finally giving a graceful leap and landing atop it, her hooves just barely able to make purchase with the ground at the rear. “My word! This is most discomforting! This wedge is digging about in most indelicate areas!”

“Please darling, please do try. I was assured by very important ponies that this was wonderful.” Fancy, ever the gentlecolt, dutifully stood behind Fleur and pushed on her rear end to assist her in mounting the device.

“This is hardly an improvement! My intimate parts are split in a greatly uncomfortable manner.”

“Indeed, so I see. It is hardly conducive to intimate activity. Ah! I know, move your body back. Allow me to assist.” Using his magic and Fleur's motions, Fancy managed to pull her slowly back.

“It still exerts a terrible pressure between my teats and upon the whole of my barrel. How long am I mean to be upon this contraption?”

“Well, intimacy is now possible. I suppose once I complete the act its duty is concluded. Now... let me... oh dear. This may have been designed for one with greater height... If I just...” With an ungainly hop Fancy landed on Fleur's back, attempting to merge his intimate parts with hers while adjusting to her new height. The last thing either of them heard was the scream of Fleur, a shot of wild magic and the snapping of chains.

“So... you two fell?” Later on, at the emergency room of Canterlot General Hospital a nurse named Candy Stripe looked over a clipboard at the two ponies before her.

Fancy Pants nodded, wincing a bit. He was well battered, from taking the brunt of the blows as the chains rained down onto their crumpled bodies. Not only did he have visible injuries but his beloved 'butternut squash' had nearly ended up becoming a crookneck. “Yes. Yes we... fell.”

“While engaged in a bit of... spirited intimacy.” Fleur felt as though she had split her body in half against that idiotic wedge, though the padding and Equestrian bodily robustness had ensured that her injuries felt worse than they were.

Candy Stripe sighed and shook her head. “Alright Mister and Miss... Smith. My orderlies Poultice and Suture will take you to room number three. After a quick assessment we'll have you back to your... spirited intimacy.”

“How embarrassing! To be examined in such a manner. At least they did not probe deeply into the circumstances.” Fleur shook her head as she and Fancy stood within the odd room once more. “Dare we even try again?”

“Yes! Let us not be afraid of such things. I was given strong assurances of the fun of such things. I do not wish to believe that my sources were liars. There must be some secret to unlocking the entertainment. Perhaps a reversal.”

“A reversal, darling?”

“Yes. I have heard tell of mares mounting upon stallions.”

“It would hardly be of much interest to either of us. I lack the parts to make a mounting interesting while you are hardly built to receive such attention.”

“Check that box there, and attempt to find a complicated harness device. I was informed it is called a 'strap-on'. Some sort of device for carrying something.”

Fleur used her horn to open the box and dug around, while Fancy walked around the room to look at the unknown implements. She quickly found what had been meant. It looked like... the skeleton that might be underneath intimate lower body apparel. There were two attachment points that appeared on it. One that went inside, and would likely rest against her own intimate parts, and one on the very front.

Setting aside the mystery, she slid them up her long lower legs, adjusting the straps until it fit snugly upon her body. Further digging turned up a number of devices whose construction made them suitable for attachment to the harness. Large, smooth, egg shaped devices and modestly-sized faux-phalluses looked to be made for the inner attachment, while rather... robust rubber rods were made for the outer one. “I do believe I have solved the mystery of the device you mentioned.”

“Splendid darling! Come show me right away.” Fancy was not looking, his attention focused on the fallen wedge.

“Are you certain?” Fleur attached one of the imitation penises to the harness, noticing that a bottle of some viscous liquid lay next to it. While she poured the liquid onto the rubber surface she noted, “It is rather... surprising.”

“Oh surprises are quite wonderful! Please, darling, do show me.”

Giving a shrug, Fleur crossed the room, took aim and leaped onto Fancy. A scream broke the silence of the room.

“So you...” Candy Stripe.

“Slipped.” Fancy.

“And fell.”

“Yes.”

“On a... 'toy'?”

“Yes.” Fancy winced a bit and coughed. “It was a most... unusual circumstance. Quite improbable, but one of those matters that comes up in life.”

Candy Stripe coughed and rolled her eyes, making a note on her chart. “Very well, mister Smith. As before, Poultice and Suture will escort you to room three for examination and... extraction.”

“Thank you kindly.” Fancy walked along, gingerly, followed by a very shamefaced Fleur.

“I swear we shall unlock the mystery of this curious thing!” Fancy stomped his hoof and delivered a most ungentlecoltly snort. “Now, let us not attempt too much, too quickly. I shall examine the box this time, while you look in on likely candidates for entertainment in the collection of devices.”

“Very well, dear. That should prove safer.” Fleur set off on her own tour of the strange contraptions scattered around the room.

Fancy gingerly dug through the collection of odd items in the box. Phalluses of all colors and descriptions, manacles with faux fur on them, mouth bits, hobbles, blindfolds, wing binders, horn caps, harnesses and binders. It resembled nothing so much as the equipment chest of a very, very confused constable. With a sigh, Fancy turned to the wall at the entrance from where he had taken the paddle. He saw beside it a coiled fiber whip.

Another memory passed through his mind. If done with the proper vocalizations and the right facial expression, controlling a whip was easy and would deliver the promised pleasure. Fancy's magical aura took up the whip, bringing it closer to him for an examination. It seemed a basic object. Surely he could master its usage for the purposes of pleasure.

He strode casually up behind Fleur, holding the whip up in a ready to use position. Then with a cry he let his magic run wild, screaming, “Somepony is a bad filly and needs to be punished!”

Candy Stripe sighed and rubbed her head under the horn with a hoof. “What was it this time?”

“A whip.” Fleur looked less sheepish than last time. She was scowling, her back and neck covered in angry red welts.

“We... fell. Awkwardly.” Fancy was looking out on the world with one good eye. His other was dark black, covered with a broken monocle. To his credit, he was also covered in welts.

“Room three. Poultice. Suture. You know the procedure.” Candy Stripe noted something else on the chart and motioned with her head.

“We must face facts, Fancy dear. I believe we have been, as they say, hornswoggled.” Fleur shook her head slowly.

“I don't wish to believe it. But I say we give it yet another go. Surely if we restrict ourselves to only the simplest things, we may succeed. Here...” He levitated up two pear-shaped objects made of bright pink rubber, with odd cranks on the narrow ends. “Surely such innocuous devices could prove no harm at all.”

Fancy and Fleur stood before the nurse again, Fancy's mouth plugged with spread pink rubber, a stem emerging from it with a broken mechanism at the end. Fleur's own complaint was not visible, but she was wincing mightily. “We... fell?”

There was no trace of mirth in the angry unicorn face that looked at them. “Room. Three.” She then screamed out, “Poultice! Suture!”

Two voices in unison answered, “Again?!”

Dear Lord Gammon,

I am returning your generously-donated objects. I attempted to make use of them as per your suggestions and instructions. Allow me to make the outcome of my endeavors very clear in my statement of how I shall have you take receipt of them: Please store them very far and deep in a bodily receptacle whereupon neither Celestia's sun nor Luna's moon shines.

Cordially,

Fancy Pants.