"The Wonderbolts... I-I get to join the Wonderbolts!"
Rainbow Dash, her teeth clenched tightly around a piece of parchment bearing a flaming-orange banner, danced around her porch gaily with a look of joy that would have rivaled Pinkie Pie’s on any day. Passerby would occasionally stop to stare at the mare's antics, but the rainbow-maned mare didn't give a flying feather about any of them.
Her dream had finally come true, and she was going to celebrate however she darn-well pleased. "Ooh—celebration!" Her eyes lit up. "I think this is the perfect occasion to break out that aged Apple Family spiced cider that Applejack gave me a while back."
Enthralled by the addition to alcohol to her frenzied revelry, the pegasus snapped her wings open and rocketed back into the house, aiming for the general direction of the ice box in her kitchen and ignoring the trail of overturned pots and pans she left in her wake.
So excited was she by the joyous turn of events that she hardly even noticed the air rippling around her like water on a perturbed pond as she dashed inside.
Reclining on a nearby cloud situated just over Rainbow Dash's cloudy abode, a darkened figure chuckled quietly to herself as she watched the mare below dance around gleefully. Following the wrinkle in space and time as it flowed over her fur, she let out a content sigh.
“Ah, it warms my heart to see ponies so happy in my dreamy dominion.”
Bracing herself against the cloudy backdrop, she hoisted her sleek figure up and turned her soft gaze away from the pegasus's floating home. Massive, puffy clouds dominated the skyscape, floating aimlessly around like bulbous, slow motion bumper carts. Further on, the bluish tint of the "sky" began to blend with the colorless billows, forming a greyish mush that took the place of a distinguishable horizon.
Tracing a line of sight through the white maze, Luna eyed the outline of Rainbow Dash's own private reality. Her gaze, calm and content only a moment ago, now hardened into one of stoic neutrality. While this one little pony’s dream was a good one, this was still just one little pony’s dream. She would visit many, many more before the night was out, and even though this one was filled with delight and filly-like happiness, plenty of others were surely haunted by less than friendly spirits.
Drat, Luna murmured internally. Her mood had finally taken a turn for the better after seeing how well-recieved her dream was here, and now she had to up and ruin it with thoughts of her more downcast duties as Equestria's sole keeper of dreams. Dispelling demons and chasing away nightmares were certainly great forms of stress relief for the princess, but she could only take so much of it before the act of banishing ghosts to Tartarus in epic, reality-shattering battles that spanned multiple planes of existence turned into nothing more than a tiresome chore.
Speaking of ghosts...
"What is that incessant noise?" Perched, catlike, on the cloud, Luna's ears jutted to attention as a thin, wispy, sound floated on the faux-wind towards her. This noise didn't sound like anything Rainbow Dash could have made—where her voice carried an almost squeaky, scratchy tone to match her scrappy demeanour, this was much higher, and much more impassioned.
Much more impassioned.
Luna sighed. Outside disturbance was the one thing that she couldn't tolerate in her personalized realm. Such a thing could alert the dreamer to the fact that they were dreaming. If that happened, they could wake up and cause the entire dream to collapse (a very painful affair for Luna, considering how much time and effort she put into making it).
Or, even worse, they could stay dreaming and start to take control of their own hoof-crafted little universe, playing Goddess however they pleased and wreaking havoc on Luna's carefully-prepared work, turning what would be a peaceful and serene landscape into a molten lake of lava or a massive, out of control orgy.
The latter happened far too often for her tastes.
Scanning the horizon for the source of the bizarre noise got her nowhere in a hurry, so she took to her wings to look around for any unintended flaws in the imaginary plane. The dreamland that she had constructed for Dash couldn't have more than half an acre across at the most, even with the illusion of an endless sky surrounding them, but it still took a good couple of minutes to stick her head into every nook and cranny to root out the source of the disturbance.
As she pulled the last unturned cloud open and—surprisingly—found nothing but air, her joyous mood began to dip, tugged downward by the downright annoying noises down into a dank pit of mild annoyance. Glowering, she pieced the cloud back together and flopped down onto it, her eyes still suspiciously scanning the skyline.
So it wasn't anything in this dream, that much was clear. Luna stretched out her forelegs in front of her and cradled her head, tapping the cloud absentmindedly and making it pop like tiny bits of bubbled wrap. Think Luna, think. This isn't the first time something like this has happened.
It only took a moment of contemplation for the princess to realize that whatever (or whoever) was making the sounds was not residing in Rainbow Dash's current dream. Dreams were a collective affair—like patches on a quilt, they all existed in the same sphere of the subconscious, separated by a thin membrane of magic that kept one pony's dream from spilling over into another's.
Usually, the wall held firm against any minor meddling on the dreamer's part. But on the unusual occasion that a pony found a way to intentionally alter their surroundings, their inexperienced tampering usually resulted in alarmingly large holes in the dreamtime-continuum, unintentionally blending their thoughts with others.
The princess's brow furrowed. That had to be it—there were no other possible explanations for it other than invisible howler monkeys (which, in an odd quirk of the pony subconscious, occupied dreams like ants occupied anthills). Folding her ears flat against her head to muffle the annoying sound, she spread her wings and took off again, following the sound to the edge of Dash's little dream world.
It took her no time at all to discover the tear in the dream barrier, given how massive it was. Stretching from wingtip to wingtip, the glowing hole bled deep indigo stains into the grayscaled clouds. The closer Luna got to the cosmic rip, the louder and clearer the noises became. She leaned in close in an attempt to discern the origin of the noise.
"Goodness,” she muttered, "it almost sounds like somepony is shouting in there." The princess flinched as she heard another clamor. Shouts that frenzied could only come from a pony in distress, and in the dream world that meant one thing and one thing only: nightmares.
If one of her little ponies was afflicted by this heinous terror, it was Luna’s job to assist them, no matter how much she wanted to stay here and relax amongst her handiwork. Taking one final look back at the pleasantly serene cloudscape, she shut her eyes tight and dived headfirst into the rip.
A brief brief but intense popping sound in her ears later, and she pried her eyes back open to observe whatever new dream she had just landed in. Looking around, she found herself in a familiar-looking forest, its trees seeming to reach out and grab at her when she wasn’t looking. The dim light given off by the sickly moon hanging low in the sky just barely pushed back the advancing shadows, giving the entire view a serene feel to it.
Luna had been to this place before. The gnarled trees, the dry, cracked earth only separated by pathetically small tufts of grass the ever-present red mist swirling at knee-level—it all dredged back to the forefront of her mind the image of one runtish orange filly.
A light bulb flashed above her head. Aha, this must be the little filly Scootaloo’s dream. I haven’t seen any disturbances in her dreams since she conquered that silly old ‘rusty horseshoe’ story a few weeks past. She paused. I wonder how she has been faring with her nightmares since then. I hope that whatever this is has not vexed her too much.
Another sharp cry coming from over a nearby hill effectively answered that question.
Turning, the princess took up a brisk trot towards the hill, intent on preventing whatever was keeping Scootaloo from resting peacefully. She had seen how her previous nightmares preyed on her, turning her into a nervous wreck who was hardly able to function without jumping out of her skin at anything louder than a butterfly’s wing beat. She would not allow her world to function so corruptly as to torment mere foals with beasts of fright; she would put an end to this once and for all, for Scootaloo’s own sake.
She crested the hill and immediately scanned the area below for a sign of the evil spirit tormenting the poor filly.
She instantly wished she hadn’t.
Sprawled out on the ground, covered in sweat and Celestia-knows what else and writhing about wildly in the soft grass, was Scootaloo. But it wasn’t her current position that made the princess's jaw nearly fall right off her head in shock and surprise.
No, it was the two fillies that were holding her down, trailing rows of sloppy kisses up her thighs.
Another lightbulb went off over her head, though she was far too busy attempting to collect the shattered remnants of her mind from the ground to realize it. Those shouts of torment and fright she had heard earlier weren’t shouts at all. They were moans. Moans of pleasure, no less.
And, from the looks of it, the filly wasn’t missing out on any of that either. Her little eyes were flitting frantically about in their sockets, unable to focus on any one thing at a time. She squirmed under the others' touches, clearly awash in carnal pleasure.
None of these subtle actions were lost on Luna, who dived into the nearest bush to avoid a passing glance from the orange filly. She would have stayed in that bush forever, beating her brain against the hard earth in a futile attempt to forget the horrid image that had been branded into her brain like an unwanted tattoo left over from a Hearth's Warming Eve party gone awry, had another piercing moan not sparked her hormonal curiosity and dragged her head off of the ground.
Peeking out from in between a gap in the brush, she risked another furtive glance at the lurid scene before her. Under her prying eye, one of the fillies at Scootaloo's side—a yellow earth pony with a wilting bow holding back an unruly apple-red mane—moved in and ran her tongue up the inside of her friend's thigh, leaving a thin, viscous trail of saliva in her wake. The pegasus squeaked again, flexing her hips upwards in an unspoken beg for more.
The act only seemed to embolden the other, a marshmallow-white unicorn, who pecked her muzzle teasingly up and down Scootaloo's frame. Each kiss made the muscles under her orange fur tense, building into a convulsive shudder on occasion. The pasty filly followed her friend's quivering body down past her belly, finally settling in just over Scootaloo's slit.
"A-applebloom, Sweet-tie Belle—aah, don't stop," said filly stammered, her squeaky voice wavering in time with
Applebloom and Sweetie Belle. So those are her 'friends', the princess mused, emotions blurring into one big pit that sat on top of her lungs, turning her breathing into tight pants. But this is Scootaloo's dream... another lightbulb would have gone off, had her brain not already fizzled out entirely. So... those must only be more figments of her imagination.
She flinched as another well-timed stroke from said figments of the filly's imagination drew out another long, throaty moan from Scootaloo. Those are some very... detailed figments. She shifted awkwardly in place. I should not be watching this. What Tia would do if she found me peeping into my subject's dreams like a common pervert? She shuddered, knowing that another millennia in space wouldn't compare to the stern and disappointing gaze her sister could lay down when she wanted to.
I'll bet you'd like that, an imaginary voice belonging to Celestia piped up deep within her mind. First, a thousand year cold shower on the moon to get your marehood nice and cool. Then, we warm it back up with a nice, hot stallion with a huge throbbing—
Luna tried to raise her hooves and beat the horrid voice out of her head, but she found her hooves glued to the spot, imaginary shackles rendering her an immobile spectator to the entire revealing scene in front of her.
Emboldened by her compatriot’s actions, the imaginary Applebloom followed suit and tucked her muzzle into the orange filly's nethers. With a quick, probing flick of her tongue she split Scootaloo's slit, sending the filly into another fit of grunts and groans.
"Aah—that, do that. Harder," she all but hissed as she snaked one of her hooves behind her friend's head and forced her further down into the depths of her cavern. Applebloom's tiny tongue raked quick lines up and down her inner walls, nearly causing Scootaloo to double over in pleasure.
This unintentional movement let her underdeveloped wings spring loose from under her with an audible pomf. Not wishing to be left out of the fun, Sweetie Belle's kisses migrated up over Scootaloo's slender chest and onto her soft jaw line. At the same time, the unicorn let a hoof absently wander over to the winged appendages, tickling the tiny primaries and stroking the secondaries with firm touches.
The orange hoof previously holding Applebloom's head down laxed from its duty, only to latch onto the young unicorn's face and bring it down to meet Scootaloo's at the lips. The fillies groaned into each others' mouths, greedily swiping their tongues together, trailing a thin strand of drool between them.
As Luna's red-hot blush increased, so did the fervency of the groups movements, hooves and tongues meeting ultra-sensitive flesh with a slowly increasing tenacity that could only come from three lust-filled fillies.
Scootaloo's squeaks were muffled by Sweetie Belle, who in turn gently tugged at her feathers one at a time, sending tiny tendrils of pleasure-tipped pain down the pegasus's spine. "Aa—oh, that—dah—hurts!" she struggled out into the other filly's mouth. "I should have done this—Aaah—sooner." She let out another low growl as the last of her feathers popped, leaving her wings in a disarrayed mess.
She couldn't have cared less. With any last semblance of decency thrown haphazardly to the wind, she grabbed Sweetie Belle's now-idle hooves and guided them down to her nethers, where Applebloom was still patiently teasing her moistened lips.
Together, the two worked in tandem, ceaselessly assaulting Scootaloo's sex in a seemingly endless wave of pleasure. The young pegasus resumed her squirming and moaning tenfold, her belly spasming in time to the faux-fillies' touches. Scootaloo wrapped her arms around herself, shaking gently under the hooves of her friends.
At this rate, even Luna concealed deep in her bush, could see that she wouldn't last much longer. The two imaginary ponies, though, dragged the intense, burning pleasure out as long as they physically could, checking their impassioned love making whenever they felt their victim seize up in an obvious indication of impending orgasm, keeping her teetering on the tortuous edge of release.
Scootaloo grinded her teeth together as she grinded her hips up into the waiting fillies' faces. Her wings hardened and wilted in frantic contractions, and her hind legs kicked out weakly, caught under the weight of her fellow lovers. "Guys," the filly finally squealed, "I can't do th-this anymore, I think I'm about to—"
She didn't even have to finish her sentence. Her friends pounced upon her, frantically lapping at her exposed lips in one single concentrated effort. In a final act of stimulation, Sweetie Belle leaned down and rocked forward on her hooves, plunging her miniscule horn into her partner's fillyhood. That jarring stretching, that white-hot feeling of being filled made Scootaloo lose her last thin strands of resolve, releasing an earthquake of orgasmic bliss that shook her to her very core.
Her slit shuddered around Sweetie's magical appendage as a thin stream of thick liquid shot out of her, splashing both fillies' faces. Oblivious to the literal waves of orgasm roiling through (and out of) Scootaloo, they continued their relentless sexual assault, squeezing and prodding and touching in rhythm even as she screamed breathlessly in mind-shattering pleasure.
The two imaginary fillies only starting to let up once every last drop of ejaculate had been milked from their friend's fillyhood, finally slowing their pace to a plodding clop. Soon, even that ceased as Scootaloo took one last gasping breath before melting into a twitching puddle in the grass. As her breathing steadied, the images of Applebloom and Sweetie Belle began to flicker and distort, gradually fading into collective swirls of light until they were nothing more than threads of luminescent light, retreating back into the fabric of the dreamscape from whence they came.
"Oh... wow," she murmured slowly, her eyes lazily walking over the now-empty scenery around her. "If I had known that I could summon fake versions of my friends to do... that without consequences, I would have done it weeks ago."
"Not as consequence-free as you might think, young one."
Scootaloo's eyes went wide and flickered from side to side in a panic as the new, booming voice startled her out of her serene afterglow.. There, emerging from the underbrush the faintest hint of a passing blush on her regal cheeks, stood a stern Princess Luna, giving her a look akin to a mother scolding a naughty foal. "I can see that you have taken my advice and conquered your dreams... though, I hadn't meant for you to conquer them this much."
The look on the filly's wary face fluctuated wildly between utter shock and crushing embarrassment. "P-princess Luna? Princess Luna... Princess Luna!" Frantically, she covered her still-dripping shame with her tail and rocketed up to her hooves, bowing shakily. "I was just—uh—rolling around in the grass. With nopony else."
She flinched as her own thin excuse hit her ears with all the finesse of a sack of bricks. "I just really like rolling around in the grass, you know? It's just so lush and green... and green..."
"Scootaloo," the princess cut in, "there is no need to try and hide it. I saw the entire act from beyond the brush."
Scootaloo paled, visibly shriveling as Luna's admission short-circuited her brain moreso than the previous orgaasm had. "Oh no, no no no, I'm so sorry Princess Luna Your Majesty Holiness of Awesome. I was just thinking about my friends, and then they just sort of appeared, and then things got out of hoof..." she trailed off, her features briefly overtaken by confusion. "Wait a minute, you were watching me?"
"T-that is not the point," Stammered a blushing Luna. "The more important thing is that you were tampering with a very powerful form of dream magic called 'lucid dreaming', which allows ponies to control their own dreams. It looks like you only did this by accident when you conjured up your little friends, but be wary nonetheless. Even your accidental use of this power tore a hole in the dreamscape the size of—well, me."
Wilting like a parched flower left in the sun, Scootaloo hesitantly replied, "I-I'm sorry, again. Are you gonna punish me?"
"Punish you?" Despite the sheer awkwardness weighting on her, Luna somehow managed to let out a weak chuckle. "No, dear Scootaloo. I've seen far worse in pony's dreams than mere sexual exploration, especially from a growing pony like you. It's all perfectly normal, if not a bit uncouth, I assure you that much."
She hesitated before speaking again, biting her lips "Just... try to keep the vocalizations of your pleasure down. I could hear you all the way from another pony's dream."
The only part of Scootaloo that hadn't already turned bleach-white were her cheeks, burning and red as ripe tomatoes. "You could hear—all the way in another pony's dream? How is that even possible?"
"All dreams are situated in the same universe," explained Luna. "They are seperate, but still interwoven in the same fabric of space and time. Think of it like a patchwork quilt, with each individual patch being another pony's dream. It's all quite simple if one has all the right knowledge to analyze it properly."
"Oh, okay." The filly's weak affirmation only Luna assume that all the information had just gone over her hormone-soaked head. She was pleasantly surprised when Scootaloo spoke up again and contradicted her previous line of thinking, calling out, "Wait, Princess Luna. You said that all dreams are connected in a way, even if they're still unique, right?"
"Yes, that is true. What are you getting at, child?"
"Well," Scootaloo continued, "would it be possible to, like, connect two different ponies' dreams? You know, knock down that wall that separates the two and meld them into one single space?"
Luna was ready to dismiss the filly's thought as wishful thinking coupled with an overactive imagination, but as she mulled the words over in her head, she actually found them to hold a shred of credibility. Luna would certainly have to stay in that dual-dreamscape in case something were to happen, but as a whole the idea actually seemed plausible. Perhaps this little filly was onto something.
"That is a very interesting thought, young one. Certainly unusual, to say the least, but not impossible. I assume it would be you wishing to meld your dreams with another?" Receiving a stiff nod in confirmation, Luna continued, "I thought as much. Who would you like to bring into your dreams tonight?"
If Scootaloo's sheepish blush had gotten any brighter, she would have outright exploded. Still fidgeting uncertainly, she looked down towards the ground and muttered softly into the dirt.
"Uh... Applebloom and Sweetie Belle."
Author's Note
I may deserve a thousand year cold shower for writing this, but you deserve one too for reading this.
