Iron Will vs. The Penile Code

Spike may have been a closet hornball grudgingly working for a frigid busybody PoliSci degree-holder but he was nothing if not efficient. After hitting a few ready-made telephone trees and calling up a few lower-level elected officials for information on their more 'vocal' constituents he had the names of plenty of moralistic busybodies. A few more telephone calls, some teary pleas and a few drum-pounding speeches about the scourge of pornography he had assembled a picket line in under a week.

The miniature dragon surveyed his work with a smile. The space was deep and packed in with buildings, but the front was still fairly notable. There wasn't often much in the way of attention for the studio but that didn't matter. The picket line was to intimidate the workers, and hopefully draw the media, not change the minds of locals.

The picketers were mostly mares, along with a few stallions who were clearly there with their wives. At the front were a trio mares with flowers for cutie marks waving signs and occasionally screaming in unison, “Porn hurts children! Won't somepony please think of the children?”

The ringleader of it all oozed country-fried moral rectitude and hayseed respectability, from her hay-blonde mane to her apple Cutie Mark and the stetson hat on her head. Applejack. Every elected official dreaded a letter with a postmark from out in the sticks. It was probably from her complaining about some little thing or another, from mail delivery schedules to water metering, but she really shone when it came to moral matters. Liquor stores, drugs, scanty clothing when it was worn, violence and sexual material on television. She was not entirely backwards, of course. She had abandoned the once-held long family tradition of being against miscegenation, after a buffalo had married into the family and her grandmother had taken up with the zebra sharecropper that farmed the plot adjacent to their property.

At the head of the picket line there was a sign attached to a harness on her back that had, 'Stand firm with the Penile Code' across it in giant letters. She, herself, was very vocal, crying out, “Red tape prevents rape! Red tape prevents rape!”

The day was going beautifully for Spike. He had put the call into the media outlets and despite the reputation of his boss as a disgraced busybody he had been promised a few mobile units. He was already calculating his media path, first a quick early-morning blurb, then a little astroturfed attention to inflate the attention paid to it. The stations would give the picket a midday span, garnering genuine attention along with the manufactured outrage. All the grumbling and angry letters would bring out the big guns, the prime-time news anchors, both the on-scene reporters and the studio anchors. They'd be a top story in no time. He slipped a quartz spike into ins mouth and gave it a bite, crunching on his morsel and holding the rest out in a proper cigar-like fashion.

In the middle of all the commotion Rarity arrived, for her usual day at work. The presence of the picket line more than surprised her, but she was a lady used to being surprised. This time she didn't even have a blindfold on, making it much less shocking. She strode confidently up to the picket line, expecting to be angrily rebuffed or at least surrounded by all the insufferable moralists, receiving heaping amounts of abuse.

What she got instead was one of the flower-mares coming up to her with a smile and a glance down to her belly. “Oh hello dear! You must be here to join our picket! You must really feel passionately about preserving our moral culture if you were willing to protest in your condition. We've needed ponies to think about the children and you're a perfect example of that,” The rose-marked mare said.

“Goodness! Well, I certainly do think about children, most especially mine,” Rarity said, giving a reflexive rub of her belly. “But I am afraid that you have made a bit of a mistake...”

“Did you need a chair, or a bench or something to rest on? I know pregnancy is a delicate condition,” Said a mare with a lily in her mane.

“Hmm, I wouldn't mind if I had my fainting couch...” Rarity mused.

Spike finally swept his eyes over the trio of mares and noticed Rarity. He snapped the quartz spike in half and dropped it, rushing over with a great urgency.

“Well now, I'm not entirely certain the identity of the father. Well, I mean I can narrow it down to species, of course. But the breed escapes me,” Rarity said, softly fluffing her mane.

“Breed? You mean race?” The rose-marked mare asked.

“Hey there! Oh my gosh! Lady Rarity! I hope you haven't been having any trouble getting through!” Spike finally arrived, panting, his eyes wild. “Get back! I know you don't like porn actors but I won't have you abusing a pregnant mare!”

The mare with a daisy on her flank pulled back from Rarity suddenly. “You're... you're one of the workers in that place?”

“Well, yes, darling. I thought that was fairly apparent,” Rarity replied.

“But... but... you're pregnant!” The lily-wearing one screamed.

“And quite proud of it! Motherhood has offered me a spectacular glow and fecund aura that truly enhances my womanliness. I have never felt so alive, and so much like a lady,” Rarity said, eyelashes fluttering while her eyes sparkled.

“And by law she has to be allowed to get to her place of business,” Spike said, elbowing his way through the flower mares. “P-please, Lady Rarity, allow me to escort you inside.”

“Oh my, how gallant of you,” Rarity said, demurely fanning herself with a hoof as she started to enter the building.

“Wait there you!” Applejack yelled, pointing rather accusingly at Rarity. “Ya sell yer body and yer dignity fer money,” She cried reproachfully, “Ya conceive a bastard child outta wedlock. How do y'all sleep at night?”

“On a pile of pillows, surrounded by burly Diamond Dogs,” Rarity answered, looking rather proud of herself. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh you flip lil thing!” Applejack strode closer. Before she reached Rarity however, Spike came back to the door and pulled Rarity inside, having only just realized she wasn't with him.

The lobby of Bare Mare Studios was exactly the same as it always had been. The feel of it was sleek and modern, the walls curved comfortingly and painted a soft eggshell white. The carpet was a dark blue and the high ceilings were set with humming fluorescent lights. In the center of the room was the receptionist area, made of two semi-circular desks set low. As ever the desks were staffed by two cream-colored unicorn mares wearing headsets. The one facing forward was about to greet Rarity when she noticed Spike. “Oh, it's you again. Come to bother us again? If you're bothering Miss Rarity...”

“Do not be concerned, Opal, this dragon has been quite the gentleman. He got me through that horrid picket line,” Rarity said, giving Spike a little a rub on the head, causing the dragon to sheepishly grin and poke a claw into his mouth.

“Probably just being a little spy for his boss. He's just that kind of stooping little toady,” The rear unicorn mare said with a huff.

Rarity reacted with utter shock. “Beryl!” She cried. “You are usually far more accepting of others. Horrible though his boss may be, he should be assessed on his own. He seems fine.”

“Yes! I'm a good guy,” Spike sniffed, tugging on the lapels of his coat. “May I continue to escort you to your dressing room, Lady Rarity?”

“Yes you may,” Rarity said with a slight grin. As she trotted on she casually remarked, “You need not be so formal. That is only my stage name after all. Please do call me Rarity.”

“Rarity...” Spike said with a dreamy tone, holding the door to the back corridors open and stepping in after her. “I have to say... Oh I am such a huge fan! I've seen all your movies. Repeatedly!”

“Is that so?” Rarity asked, with a curious glance backwards. “I'm rather surprised to hear you enjoy my films, considering that you work for... her.”

“It's just a job to me,” Spike said, dismissively, “Not like you. You're passionate about your art.”

“It's true,” Rarity said, “My persona simply oozes passion... amongst other things.” She cleared her throat and asked, “So you say you saw all my movies?”

“Oh yea! All of them! Every single one, start to finish,” Spike said, a perverse smile pulling his mouth wide, a little drool running from the corner of his mouth.

“Ah! I was afraid of that! I am so sorry you were subjected to my earliest endeavors. What foolishness, working rather basely with ponies. If only I knew then what I do now...” Rarity said, ascending the stairs to reach a modest landing set up as a kind of small lounge. In that space Butch the mid-sized Diamond Dog, reading a book, one leg crossed over his knee. He was not wearing his usual pouch but rather a fairly large loincloth.

Butch lifted his head and leaped happily out of his seat, tail wagging when he saw Rarity. “Rarity! I was hoping I would see you!”

“Back off, dude, I'm here on official government business,” Spike said, holding out a hand and standing confidently before Rarity.

“Now, now, he is one of my co-stars. And a most beloved one,” Rarity came up and gave Butch a soft hug around his waist.

“What do you mean?” Spike asked, looking quite confused. Butch peered at him. “You... you hate Diamond Dogs.”

“Oh! Acting. I thank you for the kind words about my capabilities. It is very hard to manage, as I have such a great passion for them. I never work with any other but my sweet, generous kennel of canines,” Rarity said, kissing Butch on the chest. Spike's face visibly fell.

Butch grew a large, sly smile on seeing just how crushed Spike looked. He suddenly gave a pitiable yowl and sat back down, cupping his crotch. “Ooooh... ow...”

Rarity gasped sharply and ran to his side immediately. “Darling! Whatever is the matter?”

Butch continued to whimper and lightly twitch, one eye open to look at Spike and a smile on his lips. “Oooh... earlier today Mister Toity dropped by and told me to spend a few hours doing the stop and start technique.”

“Stop and start technique?” Spike asked, “What's that?”

“It's when a male pleasures himself to the edge of an orgasm, but then stops before ejaculating,” Rarity said with a knowledgeable air, “When repeated, his eventual release results in a nice, big cumshot for the climax.”

“I did it just a little too long and now my family jewels are really sore,” Butch said, pitiably.

“Oh my poor, sweet, lovely Dog,” Rarity cooed, dropping to her knees and resting her head on Butch's lap. “Do you want me to kiss them and make them better?”

Butch looked down on her with a quivering lower lip and watery eyes, adding a light whimper. “Y-yes please. You always make me feel better.”

“You flatter me, darling. It's nothing more than what a good lady should do for those about whom she cares,” Rarity said softly, nudging aside the loincloth to reveal the naked genitals below. She nuzzled up against the large, full, hairless balls, rubbing her soft snout along the low, ovoid stones. After taking a few long, slow breaths against them she moved her lips into position and planted a kiss on the left one. She moved slowly to the other side of the sac, placing a soft kiss on the other. “Is that better dear?”

Butch added a light whimper and nodded slowly. “Yes. But... maybe one more kiss on them?”

“But of course. You hardly need to ask...” Rarity planted her lips very solidly over one testicle, softly moaning as she kissed the cool thing. She pulled off and drifted aside to the other, giving it as kiss that was just as large and as filled with moaning as the last one.

With a gentle moan, Rarity took Butch's balls into her mouth and tenderly sucked on them. His hot shaft was pressed against her cheek. She could feel the weight of his balls, which were full of life-giving seed. Seed which would soon be plastered all over her sweaty body.

She moved her head away and fluttered her lashes. “How is that?”

“You always know just what to do, dear...” Butch said, letting out a soft huff and moving his loincloth over his slightly-wet sac and half-stiffened rod. “Are you going to your dressing room?”

“Yes I am, I was being escorted by this fine fellow,” Rarity said, indicating Spike, who was looking completely destroyed, a combination of confusion and sadness, “But now I can get there on my own. I only wish I could see him back out.”

“Oh don't worry, I'll see him out,” Butch said with a grin. “You go to your dressing room. I'll be up to go over our lines and positions.”

“As long as it is not an imposition,” Rarity said.

“Not at all,” Butch replied.

“Very well. Thank you very much, Butch, darling. And thank you as well... oh! I neglected to get your name. But I understand you will be around. I shall learn it at a later time,” Rarity said. She waved her hoof to the two and slipped into the door leading to the second story main corridor.

Butch laughed raucously at Spike as soon as he was sure Rarity was out of earshot. “You actually got a crush on her!”

“Shut up, you gem-poaching hound!” Spike yelled, snorting a small burst of green fire.

“You didn't know she only loves Diamond Dogs, did you? And you tried to 'nice dragon' your way between her thighs! You'd have better luck with long arms and a slobbery tongue,” Butch said, polishing his manicured claws against his chest.

Spike seethed and shook a fist at Butch. “You stupid... you're lying! She's not into you! She can't fake it that well! She thinks you dogs are perverted and disgusting and... and she hates you!”

“That's not what she said when she brought me home after dinner, told me to take off my condom and cum inside her,” Butch said proudly, solidly thumping his chest and giving a thumbs-up.

“It's fake! She really wants someone to ride in and save her! Like that one movie... okay, so the guy failed and she got raped for an hour by Dogs but this time it'll be different!”

Butch had a good, hearty laugh over that and stepped forward, lightly pushing Spike back. “Look here, flame-farter, you can't tell the difference between reality and fantasy. We've had some dragons in here. Rarity never looked at them. And they were way the fuck bigger than you. Emphasis on 'bigger' and 'fuck.'” Butch popped his brows and thrust his cloth-covered crotch at Spike, softening lump coming dangerously close to the small dragon.

Spike backed up with a grunt of disgust. “Dude, that's gay. Fine, think what you want. But I'm a nice guy, and I'm gonna find a way to get her want to want to be with me.”

“All the nice guy crap in the world won't help. She's just not into you and there's no fucking way you'll ever be into her. Rarity's too smart to fall for your shit. You think she's just a fainting pretty face but she knows more than you imagine. She can distinguish between a douche who just wants to get in her cooch and the ones who really care.”

“Oh like you flea-bitten drool factories really care about a fine lady like her,” Spike snorted, sending another rush of green fire.

“Yea, we do,” Butch said with a sudden seriousness. “That's a puppy in her belly. All of us that work at the studio could be the father. We don't know which one and frankly we don't care. It just matters it's one of us. So we're gonna take care of her until we all find out. Even after that as long as she keeps caring about us we'll keep caring about her. She earned it. You haven't done anything and think you can get with her? Fat chance you sawed-off gas-bag.”

Spike flipped off Butch and stuck out his tongue. “Whatever. I'll prove you're wrong. Just you wait.”

Butch snorted loudly and waved a hand. “Yea, right. Now get out of here. It looks like you're through with your 'official business' which means you're trespassing. I'll throw you out of here if you won't leave,” Butch said as her approached Spike threateningly.

“Fine! Fine... if I make my boss look bad she'll have my scales. I'll get out of here, but Rarity's going to come around to my charms sooner or later,” Spike said. With a dramatic flourish he took an exaggerated step towards the stairs, miscalculated the edge and tumbled down, grunting and shouting the whole way.

“Takes care of him,” Butch said, peering down the stairs and watching Spike laying there in a dazed, swirl-eyed heap, “For now. Now, to get some of that pony poon.” Butch strolled to the door and through it. He knew what would happen. Rarity would use his face as a seat for an orgasm or two while she did her makeup then go over the lines while she played some opera in the background. A good time all around.

Back outside on the street Fluttershy and Iron Will were coming into work, chatting pleasantly. “I think we could do it. Enough lube, go slow, we both move right, it might be possible,” Iron Will said, one hand making a sinuous motion against his other hand, which he was holding still.

“I guess you're right. It has potential. Miss Finish would love the marketing opportunities and Mister Toity would love the filming challenge. And... it would remind me of... our first time...” Fluttershy said, her last few statements said in increasingly soft tones while her head dropped and she hid herself behind her mane.

Iron Will gave one of his usual deep, chesty laughs, reaching out to slowly stroke down Fluttershy's mane. “Yea. Our first time. Well, it started with you and your mouth but... Yea, it would be like that. I just wouldn't have to wear that stupid, itchy loincloth and that hood. This face deserves to be on camera.” He struck a pose while walking and gave a winning smile.

Fluttershy giggled quietly and lifted her head some. “Yes, it really do- what's all the commotion at the studio?”

Both mare and bull ran up on hearing some shouting, turning a corner to see the picket line. They heard both the cry of, “Won't someone please think of the children?” and the repeated chant of, “Red tape prevents rape! Red tape prevents rape!” They also saw a few news vans on scene, though all the ponies in them were setting up equipment or talking on the phone.

“Well that's new,” Iron Will said. “Guess that angry unicorn had a few ideas about how to put a stranglehold on us.”

“That's just impolite, blocking the way to the studio. We should ask them to move. Politely,” Fluttershy said, looking rather determined despite her submissive posture.

“We should ask them to do something. We've gotta go to work,” Iron Will said, sizing up the chanter. Hard-working country mare. Standard issue complainer.

Iron Will was hard to miss, both from his size and by his species. The protestors all saw him and began to angrily shake their signs at him. The ringleader even galloped out to him. “You there! Yer part-a this here filth factory! Shame on you! Shame on all y'all fer what ya do ta this fine land!” Applejack yelled.

“Um, please, don't yell like that. We can talk about this, like civil ponies. Right?” Fluttershy asked, gingerly inserting herself between Applejack and Iron Will.

“Fluttershy, go ahead inside. I need to have some words with this mare,” Iron Will snorted, making his nose ring wave slightly.

“I-if you say so. Please don't fight...” Fluttershy murmured, stepping carefully around the protesting ponies who all seemed to be engrossed in the meeting between Applejack and Iron Will.

The two figures stood facing one another, the news ponies scrambling to get their cameras up. A cheap fight was always good news no matter the time of day. Applejack narrowed her eyes and waved her sign rather pointedly, before calling out, “Ah thought yer kind had more morals an' all that kinda stuff! Sure, ya ain't like Equestrians but ya still got all that tradition an' culture! How could ya turn yer back on all that fer some cheap sex with easy ponies?”

Iron Will grunted hard, a soft growl rumbling in his chest, one hand curling into a fist. “I'll let you say anything you want about me. I don't care because I know how things really are. But you do not say anything about the ponies I work with, especially not... never mind that. Just never call them 'easy ponies' again!”

Applejack gave a snort and tossed her head. “Well, ain't y'all mighty fancy-schmancy? Bet ya think yer own cow pies don't stink. Ah've heard all th' arguin' yer kind can do but it don't mean nothin' ta me. Ah know the truth and that's what really matters. That's why ah'm here,” She said, waving the sign attached to her back for the cameras.

“Well I know the truth too!” Iron Will said, Loud enough for the television audience to hear, “Sure, it may not be what they like back in Hellas, but I don't live in Hellas now, I live here. And frankly, I like it better. Sure, I washed out in acting and motivational speaking but I found something I can do well and that's really what matters. I know those folks in there, and while I only know some of them to say hello to them at least they say hello back,” Iron Will slowly uncurled his fingers as the cameras pressed in closer.

“It don't matter none ta me! Sure, them folks in there can smile and laugh and say a fine 'howdy' in the mornin'. But tell them fine folks at home what ya do after all them smiles and 'howdies.' Ya put on yer costumes and run around in front of a camera with all yer bits wavin' around while some pre-vert tells ya ta do filthy things ta one another. Sick! It is wrong and immoral. It's like mah grampy Zeke says, an' granny agrees, 'Ain't no gal that was a whore/ Less'n she ain't behind a door.' Ya hide yer shame, ya don't parade it in front of a camera fer all creation ta see!” Applejack cried, looking pleadingly into the camera.

“There no shame in sex! It's just sex!” Iron Will bellowed in frustration.

“Oh, is that how it is? Ya gonna be out in the wide world doin' yer filthy things?” Applejack asked, angling towards the camera significantly.

“What? No! That's not what I'm saying at all. I'm saying that this is a natural thing, and there's no reason to think it's sick and disgusting,” Iron Will said, much more calmly with the cameras in position.

“The only thing ya done that was natural was ta have all yer folks havin' all sorts of mixin'. But ya got unmarried folk carryin' on and all sorts-a weird orgies and it jes ain't right. But that ain't even the worst of it. Like ah been sayin' all mornin', 'Red Tape Prevents Rape!” Applejack chanted, stomping her hooves in time with her chants.

“What? That's not true! What does the porn industry have to do with rape? Everything in there is completely consensual,” Iron Will said.

“What about them Dog movies with that snooty unicorn?” Applejack countered, “y'all glorify the rapin'-a ponies fer dirty money!”

Iron Will had the answer to that, it had been drilled into all employees because there were several videos in that class. “For entertainment purposes only. The actions depicted are not real and an example of acting. They're not actually raping her.”

“It's bad enough yer makin' sport-a somethin' serious like rape, but that jes shows the moral weakness of the business. Not ta mention all the statistics that prove me right! Eighty percent of all rapists admit ta watchin' pornography,” Applejack said, “The other twenty percent are liars. And ah don't cotton ta no business that makes liars outta ponies.”

Iron Will blew a disbelieving puff through his lips and shook his head. “I think you might be overstating the case. Those numbers seem wrong. Besides, there are not a lot of rapists out there but there are a lot of consumers of porn. I bet a majority of rapists also eat apples. Should we try to ban apples as well?”

“You leave apples outta this!” Applejack shouted, “Apples never did no harm ta no pony! How many rapists were created by imitatin' the violent sexual acts they saw depicted in yer dirty movies?”

“That's like blaming the candy factory when you get cavities,” Iron Will said, “Where does parental responsibility come into play?”

“See, that there is the kinda flippant attitude these here porno folk give. They can't take anything serious and they prove it when they compare a trivial thing like cavities ta somethin' serious like rape. That's why folks like me and these fine mares an' stallions haveta be out here, ta show these here folks what real moral fiber is all about,” Applejack said, with a prideful sniff.

“Hey now, you're the one talking about rape. We're just in there doing a job, a very popular job. If we didn't make any money we'd have been long gone. You might be upset but the folks voting with their paychecks sure aren't. They want more,” Iron Will said, standing and posing for the camera.

Applejack snorted and waved her sign all the harder, to draw cameras to it. “Ya think that's a good thing? Yer a dern fool!” She stomped her hoof solidly and got practically against one camera. “Them porn producers are like drug dealers! They're out there preyin' on the weak-willed and addictin' them ta sleaze! They're spreadin' poison ta all our brothers... an' fathers an' cousins and all th' other ponies in this great, moral nation!”

“Comparing us to drug dealers now? You're sure not exaggerating any,” Iron Will said with a roll of his eyes. “We don't force anyone to buy this stuff, and we don't force anyone to make it. That's just the way it works. What's wrong with free enterprise?”

Applejack waved dismissively. “Folks, that's why ya can't trust them kinda folks. They ain't interested in yer morals 'r anythin' like that. They jes care 'bout putting money in their saddlebags. Can ya really trust anyone like that?”

The arguments went on for a time, overseen from afar by Spike. He had a checklist from Twilight detailing the plan to choke the studio out. He scratched out 'Media Circus.' He might even be able to skip a few of the steps to prime time. He was just as eager as Twilight to hurt the place. He'd make that dog pay, and he'd swoop in like the nice guy that he was to give Rarity some comfort and hot oil massaging.

Two days later the confrontation between Applejack and Iron Will made the midday news, after some blurbs on the morning news the day before. All the affiliates of the major stations were carrying it, as it was a good bit of drum-beating, and porn was always an easy sell to program directors.

Applejack's grandmother, just called Granny, watched with a certain amount of pleasure, perhaps more than was appropriate. She was holding herself up on her walker, leaning forward towards the old television set. “There's mah girl. Talkin' 'bout morals and all that. Ahh she's a good young mare.”

“That she is,” Said a voice from behind her. Under her tail crouched Zeke, the old zebra from beside the Apple property, who had recently move onto the homestead and become Grampy Zeke, much to the delight of all the grandchildren who were happy to have a grandfather again. His tongue had been engaged in gently stroking and massaging the old mare's vulva, carefully and lovingly working the slightly-loose folds and the unhooded clit. “You did a good job instilling values in that girl, and you should be proud, sugar.”

Granny pulled her smile even wider, sexually and emotionally stimulated by all the licking and praise. “Ya helped Zeke, with her an' her pappy...” She let out a little moan, hitting the power button on the remote attached to her walker and shutting off the television. She lifted her rear up a bit more, moving slowly thanks to her old bones and enjoyment of the licking as it was happening. “Ain't it somethin' none-a them came out with stripes?”

Zeke wiggled his tongue inside of the old mare, giving a heavy, wheezing laugh. “Can't get pregnant through your stomach, sug. I saved my love for when you were nice and round.”

“That ya did, Zeke. And ya was always so good helpin' ta care fer the young'uns. Gave me lotsa good cause ta come by an' no one could say 'boo' about it,” Granny said, leaning on her walker a bit more. “We had some good times, Zeke. Sorry we lost so many years sneakin' around...”

“I understand. You had your husband to think of...” Zeke softly brought a hoof up to tenderly massage the loose folds, licking at the stiff clit before him. “We got now. And you can be proud of the good parts of that marriage. Your kids and grandkids are more than enough to make up for that stallion you had.”

“Ah love ya, Zeke...” Granny sighed softly and rested her head against the upper bar of the walker. “Ah'm so glad Applejack was out there makin' me proud. Gotta support them morals an' rightness. Ya helped with that too. She's a good mare.”

Zeke stood up behind Granny, feeling her properly prepared. Though their respective genitals were older than the hills, they were not in any way diminished by time. His organ waved, black and shiny, nearly to his chest. He carefully leaped, planting his own hooves on the walker. His fat, blunt crown moved forward until it met with the prepared lips and slid in easily. The old folds seemed molded to the zebric tool. “Yup. Set on the straight and narrow path of righteousness.”