Innocence is a Temporary Thing
“Goodnight Scootaloo.” Sweetie Belle said softly, exhaustion weakening her voice into a strained whisper. The fragile young filly had depleted all of her energy and was ready for sleep.
“See ya in the morning Sweetie Belle.” Scootaloo replied, equally tired, but restless at the same time. Something was bugging her.
Sweetie removed her cape, the uniform of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, dropping the garment on the floor near the wall of their pillow fort.
All that could be heard was a gentle breeze coming in through the open window and the occasional stirring of Fluttershy's animals downstairs. The only light inside the fillies' comfy castle came from a dim firefly lantern stationed in one corner. Besides the lantern, the interior of the fort was all pillows, blankets, and two little sleeping bags. The perfect setting for tired fillies to fall asleep.
Sweetie, the more tired of the two, tucked herself into her sleeping bag right away, covered up to the neck, and closed her eyes. She lay on her back, her head resting against the pillow-wall of the fort for comfort. She was so expended that in a matter of seconds sleep overtook the small white filly and she drifted into dreams not much different than the make-believe adventures she had been playing in all day.
But for Scootaloo, sleep didn’t come so easily. There by the opposite wall of the crudely constructed fort, a confused orange pegasus watched her friend sleep. Then she, too, took off her cape, and cast it sloppily aside before retiring to her sleeping bag. Nestled in the bag, Scootaloo relaxed her body, but her mind did not follow suit. She wasn't sure how she felt. She rested against the side of the bed which served as one wall of the pillow fort, and sat looking at Sweetie Belle in uncomfortable admiration. She did not turn off the lantern.
All day the two fillies had been gallivanting around Fluttershy’s cottage and the surrounding wilderness, letting their imaginations guide them. Fluttershy was supposed to be looking after them for a few days while the fillies’ families were in Canterlot where the entire Apple Family was having a big cider sale. Apple Bloom had to accompany the rest of her family, and she made Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle swear a sacred crusader oath not get their cutie marks while she was away. That left the two little fillies with four days of freedom, under the care of Fluttershy.
From the young duo’s perspective, Fluttershy was doing a great job of taking care of them. They had gone basejumping off a tall tree on the edge of the Everfree Forest. Fluttershy stood there, asking them nicely to stop. They had run away from dozens of imaginary monsters from the Everfree Forest that were going to eat them and that Scootaloo was totally not afraid of. Fluttershy stood there, asking them nicely to stop. They started a small fire in a patch of grass that turned into a big fire in a patch of grass, prompting Rainbow Dash to come put it out with a raincloud, much to Scootaloo's delight (Operation Summon Rainbow Dash: success). Fluttershy stood there, telling Rainbow Dash that she asked them nicely to stop. At the end of day they came home with only five bruises each instead of the usual eight. The fillies always had more fun when Fluttershy was looking after them than anypony else.
But the entire time, Scootaloo felt very odd.
In fact, for the past few weeks, Scootaloo had been dealing with strange new sensations of the body and emotions of the mind. Her parents did warn her that she was at an age where her body would undergo changes. She might be confused by the changes, her mom said, but she shouldn’t be afraid. They are normal. Natural. Scoots’ parents explained the changes in more detail, but it was embarrassing and Scootaloo had difficulty paying attention to everything. She didn't like talking to people about those parts of her body. She hoped the changes wouldn't happen for a long time.
All hopes aside, Scootaloo was starting to experience these new changes, to feel these new feelings, and she didn’t know how to respond to them. She wasn’t supposed to be afraid, but then what was she supposed to do about it? The feelings made her want to do something, but she didn’t know what it was and her parents never told her. It was like a craving for a food she'd never eaten. She was too embarrassed to ask for help, she didn't want to talk about her private areas with her parents, or anypony at all. But the confusion scared her. Just don’t worry. It’s normal.
It felt anything but.
Today, Scootaloo’s mystery feelings manifested in great force while she was playing around with Sweetie Belle. The whole day she felt very fond of her friend in a way that she never felt before. Scootaloo couldn’t help but think of Sweetie Belle constantly, looking at her just for the sake of looking at her, a secret force pushing her to be really close to the sweet white filly. Whenever her friend was nearby, Scootaloo would get a warm and almost addicting sensation in her core. She wished Sweetie Belle would stay close to her for longer but also didn’t feel right about thinking that way. Scootaloo knew what it was like to have a crush on somepony, but this feeling was something else. It was not only stronger, but of a different quality altogether. This was the first time Scootaloo had these feelings for her friend and she both wanted for it to stop and for it to continue in greater force.
One time in the afternoon, when the fillies were rolling down a hill to see who could reach the bottom the fastest, Scootaloo collided with Sweetie Belle and they both tumbled down together, giggling all the way. It was a rough descent but it was fun. Their bodies rubbed and pressed against each other, creating a mixture of orange and white fur and the green of the grassy hill. At the bottom Scootaloo was on her back, breathing heavily, staring at the bright sky with stars in her eyes. Snapping out of her daze, she looked down at Sweetie Belle lying on top of her, face down, legs to either side of Scoots’ head. Scootaloo stared between Sweetie Belle’s legs, eyes fixed with intense interest.
She felt a kind of pleasure with her friend’s private parts just inches away. Adults always taught her that its not allowed to touch other ponies in that area, but Scootaloo felt an urge to press her face into her friend's backside and she didn’t know why. She even felt a warm tingling in her own private areas, and she seemed to instinctively know that it could feel stronger somehow. These thoughts lasted only a few paltry seconds. Before Scootaloo had the chance to give in to her urge, Sweetie Belle removed herself, laughing and thrilled at the crazy fun they just had rolling down the hill. Scootaloo snapped out of her strange thought-world and the two ponies went on to find their next adventure, bodies dirtied with grass and mud.
Scootaloo didn’t think much of it afterwards, but she had a slight nagging interest in what would have happened if she had touched Sweetie Belle where she was not allowed to. In the back of her mind, the seeds of curiosity had been sown.
Now as she lay in her sleeping bag, staring lazily at the fabric ceiling of the pillow fort, the curiosity took root and started to grow within her. Scootaloo turned her head to see Sweetie Belle fast asleep against the opposite wall of the fort, far out of reach. Scoots looked upon her and examined the white filly, full of undefined want, noting every detail. The rise and fall of the sleeping bag with each gentle breath. The few bits of grass and dirt clinging to her mane, left over after a rough day of playing outside. The drool slowly leaking out of her mouth. The memory of her privates exposed to full view, so close that she could have licked her there.
Scootaloo felt a warmth building up in her body again, and the unknown force was pushing her to touch Sweetie Belle in the bad spot. It was an awful conflict of mentalities. The one thing that she desired the most, the thing she couldn't get her mind off of, was strictly forbidden by her own knowledge of right and wrong. One second she would glance at Sweetie Belle with intense cravings, and the next she would look down at herself and feel guilty about her desire. Her mind bounced between these two states for several minutes, and Scootaloo began to sweat. She was stuck in a limbo world of indecision, but it was getting harder for her to restrain herself.
For a moment her attraction took over completely and she wanted nothing else but to go over and physically experience her friend’s body. Scoots even started to inch herself quietly out of her sleeping bag, intent on getting close to Sweetie Belle, who was still fast asleep. If she could only just smell her, take in the aroma of her sleeping friend, it would be good enough, or so Scootaloo convinced herself. That's all she would do, nothing more. But as she put her body into motion, trying cautiously to get out of her sleeping bag without waking Sweetie Belle, her burning thoughts subsided just enough for guilt and shame to take over again in full force, putting an end to what would have been an unforgettable series of events.
Scootaloo settled back down into her sleeping bag and rolled over onto her side so that she could face away from Sweetie Belle. She forced herself to ignore her friend and pretend she wasn't there. She imagined being at home in her own bed, ready to put one day in the past and bring forth a new one to the present. She imagined being in a forest far away from anypony she knew, the impressions of nature the only influence. She imagined that hug with Rainbow Dash one eventful night, after falling from a waterfall and being rescued by the awesome pegasus just before she would have struck the water below. At that moment, safe in the arms of her idol, everything in her life felt good. That hug was the best feeling in the world.
Sweetie Belle murmured something in her sleep, and Scootaloo flinched from the sudden break in the silence. She snapped back to reality, much to her displeasure.
Still determined to ignore Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo tried counting the stripes on one of the pillows in order to distract herself from the scary thoughts.
Before reaching ten, the filly became aware of a wetness between her back legs. She reached down into her sleeping bag, wiped her vagina, and felt moisture creeping out from between the lips. A mild jolt of pleasure sent a shock wave through her young body as she rubbed some of the moisture away with the intent to clean herself. Scootaloo rubbed her vagina again and the pleasure coursed through her again. Her body part was a small amount looser and softer than she remembered it being. This might have been one of the embarrassing body changes that her parents warned her about. It also seemed like this pleasure was related to the craving she'd been having. In any event, she loved this feeling of touching herself, and all her confusion and worry was set aside to make room for the pleasure. She carefully rubbed and pressed her vagina in a few gentle ways, testing the waters, unsure of how it all worked down there.
Under the sleeping bag, she began to play with herself harder, more assured that she wouldn't hurt herself by doing this. The pleasure increased along with the temptation to keep going. Fluid covered her hoof and slowly trickled down her backside. It was messy, but not messy enough to stop. Indeed, the thought of her own fluids being rubbed all around and soaking into her body strongly fueled her sexual impulse all the more.
These sensations were all new to little Scootaloo, and she hadn't had the chance to learn self-control. Even if the shame and taboo of these feelings restrained her before, they were powerless once she began to manipulate her body, feeling the full force of sexual excitement. The sheer power of the temptation was so great as to take over her young, inexperienced body.
Scootaloo's breathing became labored and audible, probably too loud, but the intensity of her arousal was all she knew. She spread her legs farther apart, almost on instinct. Whenever she rubbed herself in just the right way, she would feel such pleasure that her entire lower body would thrust forward and it was difficult not to moan aloud in response. A short squirt of fluid ejected out from between her vaginal lips, coating much of the interior of her sleeping bag. Scootaloo brought her rubbing hoof up to her face and smelled her juices. She tasted it, and although it wasn't good, she felt naughty and tasted some more. She went back to rubbing her thoroughly soaked vagina, pushing the body part somewhat open, finding the most pleasurable spots to work on, rubbing herself closer and closer to the climax that she couldn't know was coming. Scootaloo never wanted this playtime to stop.
“What are you doing?” asked Sweetie Belle, who was now sitting up, still half asleep and rubbing one eye, and witnessing Scootaloo’s awkward repetitive motions beneath the sleeping bag. Sweetie’s innocent youthful face had a justifiably confused expression.
Scootaloo froze. A wave of fright and regret washed over her. All her pleasure dissipated at once and she tried to hide her embarrassment with a lie.
“I... uh... I was just itchy. It’s okay, g-go back to sleep.” Scootaloo’s lower body was completely concealed by the sleeping bag, so she hoped it looked like she was scratching herself to relieve an itch. She felt unclean at that time, continuing to drip vaginal liquid onto the fabric of the sleeping bag beneath her as Sweetie Belle stared unknowningly. The wetness clung to a large portion of her lower body.
The lie was believable enough for an innocently naive child like Sweetie Belle who hadn’t yet experienced any sexual feelings of the sort that Scootaloo was now trying to deal with. The bleary filly accepted the answer without another word and, overcome once more with tiredness, nestled into her sleeping bag and shut her eyes. Unpolluted.
Scootaloo sat there in her guilt and embarrassment. That was too close. Her heart was racing and she attempted to silence her breathing to avoid alerting Sweetie Belle to the fact that something wasn't quite as it seemed. She was nervous and ashamed, and didn’t want to be caught touching herself again. What would she say if somepony saw her playing with her privates and there wasn't a good lie to cover it up? She got lucky this time. Nobody ever told her that she wasn’t allowed to touch her own private parts, the rule only applied to other ponies' privates, but after what just happened, she was convinced that she had done something wrong. Scootaloo decided that she would ignore these strange feelings from now on, no matter how tempting they might be.
It took quite a few minutes for little Scootaloo to calm down and cool off. Once she felt dry between her legs she was able to relax. Scootaloo fell asleep, hoping that tomorrow would be a normal day.
Author's Note
I don't use the word "pussy" or "clit". They just feel overly trashy and, more importantly, don't suit the feeling that I'm trying to convey here. Same with "cock", but there aren't any cocks in this story. That's just gross.