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Sweetie Belle's Lesson

By glimglam12
Created: 18th December 2020 03:21:28 AM

  1. Context:
  2.  
  3. "Anooooon, do I have to go?"
  4. >You look back at Sweetie Belle in irritation
  5. >She's walking several paces behind you, dragging her hooves
  6. "Yes, you do," you tell her for the umpteenth time
  7. >she kicks at a pebble and stares sulkily at the ground
  8. "Why, though?" she mutters, half to herself
  9. "I don't know, your sister says you need culture and refinement and stuff," you tell her
  10. >she kicks at the ground again and doesn't answer
  11. >to be honest, you do feel a little bad about making her do this
  12. >a three hour harpsichord lesson every Thursday, that's pretty brutal
  13. >you probably wouldn't have wanted to do it either, when you were a kid
  14. >and to be fair, you did kind of sign her up without telling her sister
  15. >but you couldn't help it, the foal has been driving you up the wall
  16. >and Rarity, that bitch
  17. >just dumping her little sister on you for the entire summer, while she goes off to Manehattan to do some kind of fashion shit
  18. >didn't even ask, just assumed you'd be cool with it
  19. >you used to make fun of Spike for being such a beta cuck, but damned if it's not impossible to say no to that mare when she gives you those bedroom eyes
  20. >you look over your shoulder
  21. >Sweetie Belle's fallen even further behind
  22. >you whistle at her, she reluctantly picks up the pace
  23. >will Rarity be mad when she finds out about this?
  24. >there's really no reason she should be
  25. >I mean, come on
  26. >harpsichord lessons with Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart?
  27. >that's like the opportunity of a lifetime, right?
  28. >and to be fair, she does always say that her sister needs refinement or whatever
  29. >naw, she won't be mad
  30. >Rarity loves that kind of fancy shit
  31. >when she gets home and finds out her little sister can play Concerto #12 or whatever the fuck at all her dinner parties now, she'll go ape shit for it
  32. >you'll probably be washing dried mare cum out of your pubes for a month
  33. >and anyway, if you don't get that filly out of the house for a couple hours a week there's a good chance you might actually kill her before the summer ends
  34. >she had her damn friends over the other day, they were running around your apartment doing their wacky crusader shit
  35. >a herd of elephants would have done less damage
  36. >ever seen what tiny horse hooves do to hardwood?
  37. >there's a security deposit you won't be getting back
  38. "Come on, damn it!" you shout
  39. >you immediately feel bad about raising your voice, but her dawdling is getting on your nerves
  40. "It's just a harpsichord lesson," you tell her, a little more gently. "Just do it and get it over with. How bad could it be?"
  41. >Sweetie Belle stares at the ground again
  42. >she's got that weird nervous look on her face she always gets whenever you bring up harpsichords or Mozart
  43. >something about it feels weird, but you push that feeling aside
  44. >you're already thinking about three whole hours of time to yourself
  45. >no tiny hooves scuffing up your floor, no noise, just hot pockets and vidya games
  46. >anyway, fuck it; you're already here
  47. >you stop outside the door
  48. >"Wolfgang A. Mozart" is printed on the glass in those fancy old-timey letters
  49. >you still can't believe you actually found this guy
  50. >you were under the impression that he had died in 1791 but nope, he's still around it looks like
  51. >famous long-dead Austrian composers and pastel cartoon horses walking around all over the place, what a fun century this is
  52. >anyway, whatever, you open the door
  53. "Ah, Sweetie Belle!" cries Mozart.  "Aren't we looking just scrumptious today!  Come on inside, have a seat at the harpsichord."
  54. >Sweetie Belle gives you one last pleading look, but you've already got hot pockets on the brain
  55. >reluctantly, she trots over to the harpsichord and jumps up
  56. "Mmm, that's it my little filly, have a seat right up here on Wolfy's lap..."
  57. >that Mozart really is kind of a weird guy
  58. >whatever though
  59. >you turn to leave
  60. >on your way out, you pause
  61. >some nagging, dim little alarm bell is still going off somewhere in the back of your mind
  62. >you turn around
  63. >Sweetie Belle is sitting with Mozart at the harpsichord
  64. >she's staring off at nothing, looking dejected and terrified
  65. >Mozart turns and gives you the creepiest look you've ever seen
  66. "Close the door," he says.
  67.  
  68.  
  69. (In a weird and creepy bit of serendipity, when I originally posted this green the text box had exactly 1791 characters remaining.  Mozart died in 1791.)
sweetie belle mozart

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