The Hollow Kingdom of Big Macintosh

Exhibit P

Big Macintosh finds Hippocampy waiting for him by the fountain.

"Hey."

"Hey you."

They both smile widely. For the first time today, Big Macintosh feels at ease talking to somepony. He feels safe. He knows there is no need to hide anything now. She sidles up to him and they start walking. Neither have a destination in mind, but all Big Macintosh wants is to walk side by side with a pretty mare. There is no sin in that.

"How was your day?" she asks him, almost suggestively.

"Same old, same old," Big Macintosh says, giving her a smile. "It's better now."

"Well, aren't we brazen?" She is being suggestive for sure now, but Big Macintosh blushes. He isn't used to being forward in any situation. Flirting and being flirted back to is a bizarre sensation for him. "So, is there anything you'd like to do this afternoon?"

"Spending time with you sounds good," Big Macintosh says again, almost kicking himself over his confident air. On the other hoof, if Hippocampy wasn't being so receptive of it he would have already stopped. Each time she bats an eye, he feels compelled to address her sexuality. That's far more bizarre.

"A nice, hallucination free afternoon?" Hippocampy jokes. "How's that going for you, anyway?"

Big Macintosh thinks about it. Recently, he hasn't seen anything unusual. There was that one incident in the rainstorm, but he gladly pushes that to the back of his mind and plays it off as a by product of the storm itself. If he has been hallucinating otherwise, he failed to notice it. Nothing exceedingly strange has happened. It wasn't like incredibly strange things happened all the time in the past, but he would at least hear noises nopony else would react to or notice a pony who wasn't really there. He has been so hung up on Hippocampy recently, perhaps he hasn't had time to hallucinate.

"It's been very mild," he tells her. Hippocampy smiles and gives him a little nuzzle on his neck.

"Then I'm doing a good job," she says, echoing Big Macintosh's own thoughts. "You don't have mild spells that often then?"

He thinks way back. There was a time when he hardly ever saw anything out of the ordinary. He didn't hear noises. He didn't see shapes. He didn't worry about a thing. At the time, he effectively forgot he could hallucinate. He joined the ranks of other, normal, happy ponies. He was only slightly off-center, a little skewed, a little strange, interesting. It was the sanest he'd ever felt, when he was with her.

"No, I've never been this mild," he says because he had been hallucinating every day and every night back then. This is the first time he's ever been so grounded in reality. He's never seen so clearly in his entire life. He knew this for sure now.

"Well, I know exactly where we should go," Hippocampy says, but this time it isn't suggestive at all. Big Macintosh is only a little disappointed. This doesn't keep him from following her. They walk wherever they are going side by side, like two close friends should when going anywhere. As fortune would have it, they don't arrive without an interruption.

"Hey!" Suave flags them, or rather Big Macintosh down. "Hey!"

"Hey there, Suave." Big Macintosh would rather just spend time alone with Hippocampy, but he does not want to be rude to his friend. Suave approaches the pair, obviously not appropriately reading the situation. His opening line reflects this.

"Who's the broad?"

"Suave, this is Hippocampy." Big Macintosh gestures to the mare beside him. "Hippocampy, this is Suave." He gestures to the stallion before them. The two strangers extend hooves and shake.

"It's nice to meet you," Hippocampy says with a smile.

"You look kind of familiar," Suave says without so much as a salutation. "I never forget a face..."

"I forget faces all the time," Hippocampy admits. "I'm pretty sure we've never met, though."

"What's your sign?" Suave asks right out of left field. Hippocampy gives Big Macintosh a quizzical look, who can only shrug and roll his eyes in response.

"Capricorn."

"Ah, you two are pretty compatible then," Suave says, nodding his head in approval. He looks up at Big Macintosh. "Libra: Keep your friends close in the coming days. You will need a shoulder to lean on."

"I think I'm covered," Big Macintosh says, winking at Hippocampy and further embarrassing himself in front of Suave.

"Right," Suave says before turning to Hippocampy. "Capricorn: It's a good time for taking risks. You might not get what you want, but you will benefit."

"I don't put too much stock in horoscopes," Hippocampy tells Suave. His face contorts into an expression that tells of how deep she just cut him. Big Macintosh stifles his laughter. "Thanks anyway."

Suave takes a deep breath in. He lets in out slowly. He smiles.

"You're welcome." Without another word, he turns and walks away. The pair is left to shrug at one another before continuing on their way. They continue down the road until the road ends. They walk down the path leading to Whitetail Woods. Before long, they are in Whitetail Woods, basking in the long afternoon shadows. A ways down the path, Hippocampy leads Big Macintosh off the path. These woods are safe, so the pair walks onward without fear. There is, however, a growing excitement in the air.

When they arrive at their destination, the adrenaline is pumping rather quickly through Big Macintosh's veins. Here in this secluded, grassy clearing he could feel what was about to happen. Hippocampy stands in the center, gazing at him with imploring eyes. It is written all over her body what she wants. Big Macintosh slowly walks over to her, prepared to give it to her.

They embrace each other roughly, unafraid of bearing all here in isolation. Big Macintosh forces her down roughly with his strength, but she doesn't fight. She lets him overpower her, submitting her lips and neck to his lips. Both parties feel their arousal growing quickly, their more sensitive parts already rubbing against each other in this stance. Even with their tongues intertwined, their longing makes the distance feel massive. There is only way to bridge it. Hippocampy rolls onto her stomach and lifts her hindquarters. Big Macintosh drapes himself over her, littering the nape of her neck with kisses and smelling the soap smell of her mane he has become accustomed to. The pair prepares themselves to cross the final threshold.

A twig snaps.

Big Macintosh's head shoots up, looking for the source. Hippocampy turns her own head and looks at him, but already he was remembering where he was. There isn't a soul around; there can't be. He looks down at her again, noticing the apprehension on her face.

"I thought I heard something, but it's nothing," he told her, leaning in to reinstate the previous amorous activities.

"I heard it too."

Big Macintosh stops and lifts his head again. He is sure a twig snapping was no reason for alarm, or that's at least what he tells himself in order to get back to the imminent sex; however, that would be irresponsible of him. The pair scan the woods before them, but there is nothing there but shadows.

"I can go check it out if you want," he says, looking down at her. He notices her head suddenly jerk to the left, shocking him into looking left as well. He thinks he maybe sees a shadow moving. "Is somepony watching us?" Big Macintosh moves to dismount, but his hoof is stopped by Hippocampy's. She is looking back up at him, but she has those imploring eyes again. The adrenaline returns.

He inserts himself and begins fucking her. A shadow continuously moves from tree to tree, but he keeps ramming his flesh into Hippocampy and making her gasp and moan with sweet breaths. The stranger's eyes penetrate him like he has penetrated her, and this too serves to increase his arousal. From Hippocampy's sweet exclamations, he can tell she is enjoying it too. It is a sick cycle that continuously builds and builds. Hippocampy screams, her body tensing around Big Macintosh and caressing him so violently he is forced to release himself inside her.

"Please... more..."

At her request, he continues to screw her as if he has forgotten how to do anything else. Something has come over him. Never has he felt so viral, so powerful. He is the king of Equestria, and there is a witness in the woods who can testify. He is dominate, drinking deep from the font of carnal pleasure. Hippocampy's firm ass is all there is to see. The wet noises with each thrust of his penis and Hippocampy's cries of pleasure are the only sounds to be heard. The sweet sweat on Hippocampy's neck is the only thing to smell. The nectar from Hippocampy's panting mouth is the only thing to taste. Hippocampy in her entirety is all there is to feel.

When energy can no longer facilitate sensation, both ponies collapse in the still lengthening shadows. Big Macintosh feels the watching eyes recede into the forest, but nothing else. Once they are gone, there is only the afterglow of the things the pair did and their still sweaty embrace.

It takes some time for them to gather the energy to journey back, and it takes even longer to make the journey itself. When they are back in Ponyville, the shadows have morphed into night. They still walk side by side through the empty streets.

Before they reach the fountain, Big Macintosh stops. Hippocampy stops only after noticing he has too.

"There's that stallion with the umbrella," Big Macintosh says, mostly to himself. Hippocampy turns to follow his eyes. "You can't see him; he's not real."

He looks down at Hippocampy, who he is surprised to find is staring up at him with a fond smile.

"If you know that, then don't worry about it," she says. She stands close to him, pressing her body against his. "Focus on what is real."

The pair part ways, despite Big Macintosh's insistence to see her all the way home. He walks the rest of the way home, arriving just as his family is settling down for the night. Applejack doesn't question where he has been, convinced whatever he has been doing was boring. Big Macintosh is partly tempted to tell her of what he's been up to, just to stir things up. He wisely holds his tongue.

Applejack leaves him with some left over dinner in the kitchen. He eats in silence, allowing himself to slip into a pleasant daze and reminisce about the afternoon he had. He made it with Hippocampy. He made it with Hippocampy in the woods. He made it with Hippocampy in the woods while a stranger watched.

He feels eyes on him again. He glances over his shoulder and out the window. For a moment, he thinks he sees the reflection of two bright eyes staring at him.

He focuses on what is real; he focuses on her. He doesn't let it bother him. He finishes eating and finally retires into bed. He closes his eyes and relaxes thinking all about the amazing mare he'd come to feel so affectionate towards. He dreams about how exciting their time from now on will be. He drifts to sleep peacefully, even if he still felt somepony watching him.