III

‘School Monitor’, I think, is my official title. It doesn’t mean much, and I certainly don’t get paid for it. Currency is kind of a nebulous idea in Equestria anyway; sometimes it’s relevant for purchases, but other times ponies do what they do just because. It’s their job, so it gets done, and money doesn’t enter into the equation. I haven’t discussed the particulars of it with anyone yet, but it’s on my list of things to inquire about if the constant cycle of other questions I have makes room for it.

Money isn’t really what I’m looking for anyway. I mean, what would I spend it on? New furniture?

The job is nice because it gives me something to do with myself. Instead of wandering around town aimlessly like a zombie without a purpose, I have a place to be and a time to be there. I mean… realistically, the job is a volunteer position created entirely on my behalf, so if I decide not to show up the only real concern would be where I am, if only for my own safety.

Even the implementation of the job itself was difficult. Of course, no one wanted to come out and say the idea of having their child around a human all day was in-itself problematic, but the idea had required some reformation and stern arguments on Cheerilee’s part before it was put into place. She’d been true to her word though; she’d made my request happen, and within a week I had a stupid looking yellow vest and a badge that said ‘School Monitor’ on it in plain block letters.

It was nice, feeling like I had a job again.

Applebloom had come up to me the first day, her face a mixture of beaming excitement and nervousness as she approached me leaning against the wall. I tried not to give away my own excitement, and managed to sort of half-cock my eyebrow to acknowledge her. I mean, I wasn’t being a purposefully aloof ‘cool’ guy – it was just a compromise between the sort of cheerfulness I was hoping I gave off to everyone else, and the part of my brain screaming get her bent over so you can lick that sweet little underage pussy right this second.

Agh. That part.

“Um, excuse me, mister…”

“Jason,” I said, lifting myself up from the wall. “My name’s Jason. I’m a hu- er. My name’s Jason.”

“Mister Jason,” Applebloom continued, already blabbering over only a couple words. “I just wanted thank y’all so much for helping Featherweight the other day. He was okay after everythin’, but we could tell he was super scared being stuck under them logs like that. If you hadn’t showed up, who knows how long it woulda taken to get somepony there to help?”

I couldn’t manage much more than a sort of embarrassed grin and a one hand behind the shoulder-blades shrug.

“It wasn’t a big deal. I was just helping because I was the first one there. I’m sure anyone else would have done the same thing.”

It was at this point I noticed Applebloom’s two friends had come with her, standing behind her and just to either side, staring up at me with the same wide-eyed admiration that Applebloom had.

“Well, we thought it was really cool of you, and we wanted to thank you properly.”

Properly. I squinted my eyes for a second to clear the image of a yellow butt with a sweet-faced sultry expression inviting me for a proper ‘thank you’. I cleared my throat sort of loudly.

“Yeah,” picked up one of Applebloom’s friends, the orange one. A pegasus with tiny little wings on her back. “It was totally awesome how you were able to lift all that stuff out of the way like it was no problem, just like that.”

“And how you picked up Featherweight and carried him out in just a couple of minutes!” The third one’s voice was disturbingly high-pitched, squeaking and cracking on every other syllable. A unicorn, white and pink fur.

Normally I would have found it annoying. At that point, I was still reprimanding myself for the idea of rubbing one out to underage horse-pussy at the end of the day, so it had a somewhat different effect. I tried to adjust my position to hide the growing half-shaft in my jeans.

“Well, all I can say is thank you, I guess. Like I said, I’m not sure it was that big a deal… but I really appreciate the thank you.”

The three fillies nodded, first at me, and then to each other with a sort of conspiratorial look in their eyes.

“And, we decided–“

“–that we want to give you an extra big thank you.”Applebloom’s words were picked up by her pink-maned unicorn friend without skipping a beat. “We want to make you an–“

“–honorary Cutie Mark Crusader!” chimed in the third filly, the one with purple hair and a gravelly voice.

A what?

“A what?” my mouth repeated, echoing the instant confusion that my mind conjured up. I couldn’t begin to understand the context of that phrase.

Cutie Marks are what Equestria ponies call the sort-of magical tattoos on their butt that designate their special talent. Well, sometimes they do. Other times it seems like they’re picked completely at random. A pony that sells crepes in the market has a dolphin for a cutie mark. I’ve never asked her about it, but I have shied away from any of her food that looks too ‘meaty’ for its own good.

“A Cutie Mark Crusader!” Applebloom picked up again. Her eyes were beaming as she looked up at me, and I tried desperately to shove away the part of my brain screaming at me to violate the picture of grateful innocence in front of me.

That bow would make such a good hand-hold.

“It’s the name of our club! The three of us don’t have our cutie marks yet, so we do everything we can to find out what we’re good at so we can get them!” the white one chimed in. I mentally noted that I needed to find names for these ponies at some point if I was going to keep fantasizing about ruining their friend’s pussy beyond recognition.

“Usually we just end up sore and covered in tree-sap... but if we keep trying, we’ll find out what we’re good at one day!” Good ol’ Orangey delivered her lines like an action-movie wannabe. Something about her enthusiasm was kind of cute, mixed with her tomboyish look and scratchy voice.

It wasn’t enough that I wanted to fuck one filly, of course. My brain was already thinking up reasons to bed the other ones.

“I dunno if humans get cutie marks, but we figured the highest honor we could give ya’ was lettin’ you join our club for how brave you were.”

And with that, the three of them procured a ridiculous looking patchwork cape. It was magenta, like old wine or a faded loveseat, and the stitching was patchy enough to indicate it was done by youthful hooves, or maybe a rock.  A blue patch with what looked to be an armor clad pony took up most of the cape’s real-estate.

“Uh,” I said. Not a good time to rebuff youthful idiocy, I thought to myself.

“I don’t know what to say.” That was true.

It was enough though. The girls took my sentence to mean that I was too choked up to speak, when really I had no idea how to properly articulate how being given a patchwork blob of horrible colour choices for something I didn’t fully understand or care about made me feel. Still, the old adage; if you don’t have anything nice to say...

“Do you like it?” the white one asked, leaning in so far I could see the sparkles in her eyes. Her mane looked... really soft. Bouncy. Like cotton candy. I kind of wanted to take a handful and put it in my mouth. And then follow along with my tongue until I got a mouthful of her cute little white fur–stopstopstopstopstop.

“It’s very unique. I’ve never seen anything else quite like it.”

The little unicorn beamed.

“Sweetie Belle did the sewing,” Applebloom said, pointing at her friend with an outstretched hoof.

Sweetie Belle. A name. It got an involuntary twitch from my dick, which I unnecessarily covered to ignore.

“Yeah, and Applebloom did the design,” Sweetie Belle said, smiling back at the big red bow behind her. Gah.

“And what did you do?” I asked the orange one in an attempt to distract myself from the growing pile of inappropriate imaginings welling in the back of my head.

The tiny pegasus opened her mouth to speak, but Applebloom cut her off before she could get a word out.

“Scootaloo threw pencils at the ceiling until one fell off and stabbed her in the head, and then yelled until we went to get ice cream,” Applebloom answered, and got a glare in return.

So now I had all three. Names to the fantasies. Though, there was still a special place in whatever depraved depths of my mind I had conjured up my sudden obsession with underage sex – Applebloom’s face wasn’t going to leave my dreams any time soon.

The trio only managed to bask in their jovial sense of accomplishment for a moment before the necessity of schoolyard dynamics interjected, however.

“Did I just hear that right? Applebloom and her two dorkateers invited you to join their Butt Mark Brigade?”

“Hey!” Applebloom’s response wasn’t exactly articulate. She turned and glowered at the source of the insult to find a familiar pink face smirking at her.

“Applebloom’s just come up with a fancy way to say that she and her friends are woefully trapped as babies for the rest of their lives. Isn’t that right, Silver Spoon?”

A grey filly appeared out of nowhere beside Diamond Tiara, and the two took up a tandem stride toward the ‘Cutie Mark Crusaders’, circling them like sharks in search of a meal.

“Yeah. Applebloom’s Ass Picture Adventurers just can’t deal with the fact that they’ll never discover their special talents because they’re just not good at anything.”

The pair laughed, earning them glares from the three fillies they were circling around.

I felt it necessary to interject at that point. Adults shouldn’t stand around and watch kids be cruel, no matter how beneficial it might be for their development. Honestly, I just wanted to smack Diamond Tiara up her spoiled rich face, but that probably wasn’t the best course of action.

“Hey!” I said, mimicking Applebloom’s lack of articulacy. My voice seemed to remind Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon that I was there, however, though neither of them looked as shocked as they had when they first met me – or noticed me.

“There’s no need to give Applebloom and her friends a hard time. Why don’t the two of you go find somewhere else to play?”

Diamond Tiara looked a bit taken aback that I’d dare to speak to her, but her surprise turned into a contemptuous sneer with relative ease.

“Or what? You’re gonna stand there and do nothing? ‘Cause if you think for a second that laying a... hand on me won’t let me get you in so much trouble...”

“Yeah. Imagine if your dad found out the human had touched you. He’d raise Tartarus with everypony in Canterlot. Mr. Two legs would get his own private dungeon in Celestia’s castle in no time.” Silver Spoon was just as catty as her little bitch friend, and I was starting to lose patience with both of them. The filly in my head didn’t have to be Applebloom if I replaced her with one of her snotty little brat class-mates. The act didn’t have to be consensual either.

Rape does not have a history of being an effective problem solving tool, however. Well... anyway.

“I’m well aware that shoving two innocent fillies like yourselves across the playground isn’t proper school supervision on my behalf. Though, you might wonder, lifting those logs up so easily, what kind of work I could do with my arms if I was to lift one of you over my head and throw you so far you’d feel like you were flying until you ate a mouthful of dirt.” As I spoke, I stood up from the wall and walked towards Diamond Tiara. The difference in size was almost comical – I loomed over her like a giant to a tiny, easily squashable building. She tried her best to hold her ground, but despite her entitled bravado, I don’t think she realized how big I was compared to her.

“Or, how easy it would be to pick up a tiny, spoiled, awful little pony like you and find a nice set of logs to bury you under.”

Diamond Tiara didn’t blink, but she did swallow loudly. The other ponies present stared on in shock, obviously unclear how sincere I was being in my description of potential child-abuse.

“But,” I began as I closed the distance between myself and Diamond Tiara, my waist level with her head as she stared up at me, “I wouldn’t worry about either of those things, if I was you.”

I kneeled down, leaning my face forward to Diamond Tiara’s as I did so. She did her best staunch impression; I could feel the shake in her breath.

“Because... a sensible school supervisor would just tell Cheerilee about a pony like you being a little brat. And I think given your history, your dad might not be too happy to get a report sent home that his daughter was an insufferable little delinquent. Would he?”

“You... you’re just gonna tell on me? That’s so lame!” Diamond Tiara spit her words out as I stood up, glaring at me indignation.

“Them’s the brakes if you’re gonna keep being a jerk. Of course, we could always pursue those other options I discussed.”

“You...gah!” Diamond Tiara stamped her hooves on the ground, kicking up an imaginary cloud of dust in what proved to be damp and unyielding grass.

“Come on Silver Spoon, let’s go find somepony we can have a friendly conversation with somepony that doesn’t have a mutant doting on them for protection.”

Both girls turned abruptly and gave a swish of their tails before walking away, moving their hooves like fashion models from earth with invisible high-heels.

God I wanted to smack them.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders watched them go. As soon as the pair of assailants vanished, their eyes were back on me, brighter and wider than they had been the whole time previous.

If I was trying to make in-routes for myself, I’d certainly set out on the right foot.

The events that followed didn’t give me any hint of what was going to come as a result of that day.

In-as-much as I can recall from memory – because really, that’s all we have to go by in situations like these, and mine’s hazy at best – things continued as normal. Or at least, they became normal by virtue of repetition.

That was the schedule from then on. Wake up in the morning, greet Spike and Twilight, probably help prepare breakfast, and head to school to keep an eye on things. Some days Twilight would pull me aside and ask me to come home at some point for more tests or questions, but it wasn’t a frequent occurrence, and the ‘job’ itself didn’t really have enough work to do that it was a problem in the long run. Most days I was just standing there watching the gaggles of kids play, shouting and frolicking with each other. There was rarely a need for intervention. Occasionally a fight to break up, sometimes a scraped knee that I examined and magicked better by virtue of my attention before bringing the ‘grievously wounded’ pony in to see the school nurse. She gave me an odd look the first few times I said hello, but I think after a while she got used to seeing me around.

The only thing I can think of that might have served as a preclusion to what happened was something in my periphery, and even then I don’t think I had any way to see it coming.

Of course, spending time at the school meant more time spent around Applebloom and her friends. It was a reprehensible hidden agenda, really; again, this coming from someone who’d had no interest in fucking horses or kids in my entire life prior, and now wanted nothing more than to grab the sweet little southern filly with her big red bow and slam her down onto my cock like a sex toy.

I tried to hide it as best I could. In retrospect, I’d say I don’t think anyone noticed, but present evidence suggests otherwise. It was just little things that might have given me away: staring at her butt when she bent over to pick up a ball or prepared for a particularly ambitious jump. Watching her cute little ass shake as she ran, and getting more than an eyeful of her underage cooch at every opportunity. Always being there to offer a hand if she needed help with something, spending too much time thinking about how soft her fur was and how warm her little body was as I helped her up somewhere or gave her the occasional hug. Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo seemed warm on me, but not to the same extent, largely because I just didn’t pay them as much attention.

Everyday I’d find a new way to keep my perverted fantasies about that sweet little horse lingering. Holding her body against my crotch and grinding up against her just enough that I got rock hard and dripping with excited precum in my jeans. Falling into her when she asked me to play with her and her friends, and getting a handful of her tight little yellow ass as I toppled over and grabbed her, rolling around in the grass and thinking about how easy it would be to just pin her down, unzip, and impale her on my dick.

Every day I went to bed sore, sticky, and questioning my sanity. It was at least less outwardly awkward than lusting after Twilight again, or Cheerilee. I didn’t have to hide anything involving them to their faces, at least.

But I think someone else noticed. There can’t be any other explanation, really. I’m not sure, looking back, if I could have noticed even if I tried.

Ever since telling her off, Diamond Tiara was sure to keep her distance. I could see her glowering from the edge of the playground toward Applebloom and her friends sometimes, looking so desperately like she wished she could run over and start up one of her delightful tirades of verbal abuse. I made it pretty clear after the first time that shit like that wouldn’t be tolerated; evidently, it was enough to make her seek amusement elsewhere. There were one or two tousles I wasn’t around for that I would run to break up when they caught my ear, always finding Diamond Tiara with her face the picture of innocence and the other pony involved either furious or crying. Sometimes Applebloom was there, glowering and accusing the little pink princess of foul-play, but substantiating a claim of anything on the playground was difficult. For the most part though, I managed to keep things in line.

She was resentful, certainly. On the odd occasion that I managed to catch her in the middle of a verbal scuffle with one of her classmates – or one where she resorted to an even more nefarious ‘boys can’t hit girls’ rule to give a pudgy colt named ‘Snips’ more than a few bruises and scrapes – she had glowered at me as I interrupted on her victim’s behalf, and given me the glare of death as I did the responsible thing and reported her misbehaviour to Cheerilee.

One time, she’d spoken up about it.

“You think because you’re some big lanky freak you can boss everypony around!” she spit at me through the pouting stare unique to someone heading home their parents holding a report from their teacher. A tiny malicious tingle went through my body seeing her all flustered at what I assumed was a pending parental reprimandation, but I tried not to let it show on my face.

“Bossing someone around and putting them in their place when they misbehave are two very different things,” I instructed, already mentally preparing the report I was going to hand off to Cheerilee.

My correction only made her pink cheeks glow brighter as she smoldered with generic rage in my direction.

“I’m the richest, most popular”–that bit was up for debate–“pony in school. What makes you think you can get me in trouble?”

“Simple,” I said, giving her a look I hoped dearly was just condescending enough. “You might be rich, and you might be popular, but when you do something wrong, there are still consequences for your actions. It’s a theory I have demonstrable proof for.”

Her glowering lowered in intensity, but the look on her face said she still wanted me dead. Almost a minute silence passed before she spoke up again.

“I’d like to see how you like it,” she said simply.

“Which, getting in trouble?”

“Yes. Or being bossed around. Both. I just want you to go away.”

“How very pleasant.” I almost took it on myself to turn and give the sanctimonious little princess a talking to the kind I had used when rowdy kids at my old job had rejected my every attempt to be cooperative – but I knew even without trying that it would be a waste of time.

Instead, I let the air take back the silence, and waited to remove myself from the situation as best I could until the next time I caught Diamond Tiara making some other pony’s life miserable.

The death glares didn’t stop that day, but I certainly noticed less of them, or less of Diamond Tiara in general.

I did notice her watching once or twice. It was enough to make me realize my behaviour at school was probably a little brasher than I intended. Outside of school-yard policing, there was still one very particular thing on my mind whenever I was around the filly of my dreams.

The set of eyes from a pink coat staring at me always remind me to tuck myself into my boxers to keep my hard-on from showing when I was watching Applebloom’s butt from afar, or to decline requests for hugs or playtime so as to avoid looking suspicious. I guess what I didn’t realize is that Diamond Tiara must have been paying more attention than anyone else – if someone was watching closely, they would have noticed all the signs; I was just too far gone to care. Really, it’s a miracle my restraint held as far as it did, mostly out of a still genuinely human concern for Applebloom’s well being, and from my own revulsion at the idea of crossing the line between pedophile to actual child molester. I mean, copping a feel wasn’t really… molestation. Applebloom didn’t seem to notice or mind, anyway.

I’m not sure if I would have been more careful , though. Because of the way things ended up… well, I’m getting to that.