[RGRE] [cancelled] The Green Horsefucker


                                            Updated May 11, 2016

                                            (updates at top of the page)

                                            BTDubs:  If you're reading this, assume all my stories are RGRE unless otherwise specified.

                                            -----------------------------------------------------------


                                            prompt:

                                            >in a world where ponies are structurally the same as real life horses


                                            >"Fluttershy, be careful! We don't even know what that creature IS yet!"

                                            >You smile at Twilight's concern but you don't stop nuzzling your new friend.

                                            "I-it's okay, Twilight. It's a m-male, which means that it w-won't be as aggressive as a f-female of its species. See?"

                                            >You wrap a wing around the creature and he doesn't try to push it away.

                                            "H-he likes me!"


                                            >You are Anon and what is even going on.

                                            >You're being cuddled by a horse-sized yellow horse with wings

                                            >You're honestly freaking out pretty badly right now and your body has chosen the "stay where you are and wait for mommy to find you" method of dealing with stress.

                                            >You especially don't want to panic and flail around now that the purple horse with the sharp horn coming out of its head is investigating you

                                            >The yellow one wrapped its wing around you when the purple one got too close, so the yellow one's cool with you

                                            >You don't know what happened but you think you've been accepted as one of them


                                            >You are Fluttershy once more

                                            >"Wait, how did you figure out that it was a male, Fluttershy?"

                                            >Hmm.

                                            "W-well..."


                                            >You are Anon

                                            >You were a virgin once

                                            >You remember those days fondly


                                            ---------------------------


                                            prompt:

                                            >CMC try to get Anon to take them as his cocksocks.

                                            >They keep doing lewd things (or at least what they think is lewd) in front of him in an attempt to be enticing.

                                            >It just confuses Anon.


                                            green:

                                            >You are Anon.

                                            >"H-hey! Anon! I b-bet you want some of th-this!"

                                            >And some little filly is hitting on you.

                                            "Sweetie, what are yo-CHRIST"

                                            >Sweetie Belle, tail raised, is standing on your patio table and shaking her ass at you.

                                            >No thank you, ma'am.

                                            "Sweetie, hey, woah."

                                            >You pick the filly up by her midsection and spin her around to face you.

                                            "You tryin' to get your cutie mark in...."

                                            >Uh....

                                            "Twe-dancing?"

                                            >You really want to know if there's a pony out there whose special talent is twerking.

                                            >That would just complete your life.

                                            >Sweetie Belle shakes her head and giggles at you.

                                            >"Nope! Rarity says that if I want you to make me your cocksock, then I have to show you my bum stuff."

                                            >There are no words for this.

                                            >Only disgust.

                                            "Cocksock. What is- you said 'cocksock'."

                                            >Sweetie nods, looking pleased that you're catching on so fast.

                                            >"Yuppers! You put your thingy in me and use me to make you feel good, and I get, uh..."

                                            >She looks like she's struggling to remember what she was going to say.

                                            >"Rarity calls it, 'on-the-job training."

                                            >She smiles brightly at you before turning around and showing you the goods again.

                                            >"It's like how Missus Cheerilee sometimes keeps me after class and licks my-oops!"

                                            >No, wait, what?

                                            >Go back, please.

                                            >Sweetie Belle looks over her shoulder and gives you an apologetic look.

                                            >"I wasn't supposed to say that. Missus Cheerilee says that she could get in trouble if I told anypony about that."

                                            >You're learning so much today.


                                            >You are Anon, a good few days later.

                                            >You just woke up from a nap, having spent the last couple of hours keeping Rarity company while this whole 'Cheerilee' thing blows over.

                                            >Rarity took it much, MUCH harder than Sweetie Belle did.

                                            >Sweetie was fucking pleased as punch at what was happening with her teacher, so it isn't like she'll have to go to therapy any time soon.

                                            >"Oh, Anonymous! How could I have not seen the signs? Was I really such a terrible sister? Darling, please tell me I'm a good pony. Tell me this while you scratch my ears."

                                            >Judging by the flowers she leaves for you next to your guest bed and the way she naps on your tummy, you're pretty sure that Sweetie Belle will be getting a new big brother/father-figure pretty soon.

                                            >But that isn't important.

                                            What IS important is what you're going to do.

                                            >As the last grainy eye-gunks of sleep are wiped from your eyes, you discover that you aren't alone in your room.

                                            >No, it isn't Rarity.

                                            >No, it isn't Sweetie Belle.

                                            >It's.... Scootaloo?

                                            >That tiny orange filly is watching you sleep.

                                            >"Hey, Anon! Are you awake?!"

                                            >She starts to jump in place in her excitement, which is HUGELY adorable to you.

                                            >She's already better than Sweetie Belle.

                                            >"Look what I can do!"

                                            >....and that opinion goes WAY down after Scootaloo pulls out a banana from behind her, peels it, and starts to eat it.

                                            >She does all this while staring you in the eye.

                                            "Scootaloo? Why are you eating bananas at me?"

                                            >.....Is this supposed to be some kind of racist joke?

                                            >YOU GET IT

                                            >YOU'RE A MONKEY

                                            >HA HA

                                            >Scootaloo holds up a hoof and swallows her mouthful of banana before speaking.

                                            >"Rainbow Dash told me that I need to show you that I can shove things down my throat!"

                                            >She takes another bite.

                                            >"She also said that I should use bananas because you're a monkey."

                                            >YOU FUCKING KNEW IT

                                            "...So where's Rainbow right now?"

                                            >You can feel a headache coming on.

                                            "I think I need to have a talk with her."


                                            ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

                                            >You are Twilight, and you feel sicky-icky.

                                            >Your tummy tum-tums hurts, and your scruncher is plugged up.

                                            >Lucky for you, Anon agreed to take care of you as thanks for housing him in your library.

                                            >Rarity volunteered to make a nurse's outfit for him, and that sly bitch got to see Anon undress for her.

                                            >You aren't sure if he's just a slut, or he's really that oblivious.

                                            >You weren't sure why his people always wore clothes, but one night changed all of that.

                                            >It was your turn to cook dinner while Anon was finishing up his chores down on Sweet Apple Acres.

                                            >You, being the proud bachelorette you are, didn't know your way around a kitchen.

                                            >In fact, you'd be worried if you DID.

                                            >So before Anon got home, you ordered and paid for some take-out.

                                            >You got to impress him by showing how self-sufficient you are, and Anon wasn't any the wiser.

                                            >So you were sitting on your couch, talking about various things.

                                            >You know, just being his friend and bonding with him.

                                            >Letting him know that he can trust you and depend on you.

                                            >Eventually he'll realize that you're the perfect mare for him.

                                            >And then you'll kiss and you'll be happy forever.

                                            [spoiler]>Y-you've got something in your eye.[/spoiler]


                                            >Anon spilled some slimy food on his shirt, and you'd braced yourself for a hissy-fit over ruining his clothes.

                                            >But no such tantrum arrived.

                                            >Anon swore a human cuss, r-reached back, and grabbed his sh-shirt by the c-collar, and TORE IT OFF OF HIM

                                            >Oh Moon above, you nearly came from that.

                                            >You wrote an ENTIRE LETTER to Celestia about what happened next.

                                            >He had ANOTHER SHIRT ON UNDERNEATH.

                                            >You sprayed squash soup EVERYWHERE.

                                            >Thinking quickly, you simply dropped your bowl of soup or whatever all over your crotch to mask the smell and the sight.

                                            >He didn't suspect a thing.

                                            >Colts are so easily fooled.

                                            >Mare, was that tiny shirt something else.

                                            >It barely covered ANYTHING.

                                            >You don't know when he does it, or how you don't see him doing it, but you KNOW that Anon is sheering his fur off.

                                            >And seeing that pink, uncovered Anon-skin is the biggest turn-on you can imagine.

                                            >Ooooh, the thought of anypony going without their fur gives you the shivers.

                                            >You take back what you said about Anon being oblivious; he knows EXACTLY what he's doing.

                                            >That dirty colt needs to be spanked.

                                            >Mmm!


                                            >But Anon took good care of you.

                                            >His powerful paternal instincts kicked in, and he made sure you got better as quickly as possible.

                                            >When he did things like put his hot, furless grabbers on your forehead, you swooned.

                                            >Said he was "taking your temperature", but you know better.

                                            >He can't keep his hoof-spiders off of you.

                                            >This is the first time a colt has ever given you even so much as the time of day!

                                            >You wish you had the courage to straight-up tell him that you were the right mare for him.

                                            >And then there was the time that he BATHED you...

                                            >Oh lordy loo, he took BOTH of his shirts off.

                                            >Said that he didn't want to "get them wet".

                                            >Pfft.

                                            >One drying spell and they'd be fine.

                                            >He just wanted to show off his tiny, colty tuft to you.

                                            >Showing off what his papa gave him while rubbing you all over....

                                            >Long story short, you pretended to be sick for an entire week longer than you actually were ill.


                                            ------------------------------------------------------------------

                                            >You are Anon.

                                            >You've been sentenced to one full week in Ponyville Penitentiary for the vile crime of stealing Ponice Chief Cuddle Wings' top hat and cape.

                                            >Girls' real serious about her dress-up time.

                                            >Play-time game too strong

                                            >You feel a little bad about it, though; Cuddle Wings was inconsolable for a whole hour.

                                            >You were actually supposed to get ten days in jail, but you comforted Cuddle until her backup arrived to take you away, and she went easy on you.

                                            >These ponies, man.

                                            >One minute a horrible race of bug-horses threatens to drain an entire nation dry via emotion cannibalism, and the next you're going to jail for seven days for stealing a hat and making a mare cry.

                                            >When you arrive, you discover that things are, well, different here.

                                            >Instead of a cell with a crappy bed, you get what looks like a cheap motel room with a crappy TV and the story of The Two Sisters in your night stand drawer.

                                            >Instead of making license plates, you offer your cuddling services to the public.

                                            >Sad ponies come in, and happy ponies go out.

                                            >You've been especially popular due to your unmatched belly-rubbing and ear-scratching skills.

                                            >You're pretty sure you've got a changeling customer who keeps coming back under different disguises.

                                            >You've got a repeating chain of mares that all have the same voice and accent.

                                            >But you pretend not to notice because you enjoy hugging these creatures so much.

                                            >Honestly, if you could have gotten a job back on Earth where all you do is hug doggies all day, then you'd be set for life.

                                            >At the end of your sentence, you give everypony one last hug goodbye.

                                            >The changeling in disguise cries and refuses to let go, so you bring her home with you.

                                            >Guess you've got a new pet/horsewife now.

                                            >Sadly, she had no teats to twist.


                                            -----------------------------------------------------------

                                            One-shot time.

                                            It's the one where Anon doesn't know magical pony body language.


                                            >You are Anon, and you like to think that life is pretty good right now.

                                            >It's been a long time since you've arrived here in horseland. Maybe a year? You honestly aren't sure.

                                            >Ponies don't count in base-10, and you're pretty sure that fucks things up for you.

                                            >You've got no idea how long one full day lasts in this new world, and you felt tired all the time during your first two pony-months.

                                            >But you are a human, and humans adapt.

                                            >Regardless of how long you've been here for, what matters is that you've been her long enough.

                                            >Long enough for ponies to trust you.

                                            >Long enough to find employment and a place to live in.

                                            >Long enough for hostility to turn to lust.


                                            >Day whatever-the-fuck in Equestria.

                                            >You are sitting out in a little patio garden just outside a local coffee shop, the Rise and Grind.

                                            >The waitress doesn't need to take your order, since you come here nearly every morning.

                                            >Large coffee; black.

                                            >Sometimes the new gal will take a bit of convincing that no, you don't want a sweet, not-coffee beverage.

                                            >And no, you aren't picking it up for your herdmare.

                                            >Yes, you are sure.

                                            >But you don't let it get to you.

                                            >If your worst complaint is having to spend a few minutes arguing with a pony about how you want your coffee, then you reckon you've got it pretty good.

                                            >Speaking of, your morning cuppa is taking a bit long to arrive.


                                            >Bored and impatient, you begin to tap your fingers against the surface of your table.

                                            >When that gets boring, you lean back in your seat and stretch your limbs out, which pop loudly.

                                            >"Sir?"

                                            >Oh! Coffee!

                                            >You reach out with one hand to grab the mug out of the waitresses telekinetic grip, and fish out a few bits as a tip with your other.

                                            >Before your waitress has the chance to turn around and get back to work, your neck is taken by a sudden and painful cramp.

                                            >You fix this by violently twisting your head side to side.

                                            >When you look back up, the waitress is staring at you in shock.

                                            >So are a lot of the other customers, come to think.


                                            >Day serving the human in Equestria.

                                            >You are Thunder Honey, a unicorn mare working at the Rise and Grind in Ponyville.

                                            >It's about 9 in the morning, which means that the human will probably turn up soon.

                                            >For a creature that complains so much about time, he sure turns up like clockwork.

                                            >You hope sempai will notice you today.

                                            >You love the way he flirts with you every morning.

                                            >Being the NEET mare that you are, nopony was more surprised by his behaviour than you were.

                                            >You were subject to some mighty strong glares from some of his other admirers, let me tell you.

                                            >Before you bring his coffee out, you bring it close to your muzzle and breath in and out.

                                            >In and out. In and out.

                                            >You try to pretend that this is what it would be like to share breath with Anonymous.

                                            >But this shit's really pathetic, so you make sure that none of the other mares see you doing this.

                                            >Oh god, Anon would think you were this gross creep if he knew that you fantasised about him.

                                            >One of these day's you'll grow the ovaries to take Anon up on one of his offers.


                                            >You bring his mug outside to his usual table, and prepare a warm greeting.

                                            >He hasn't seen you yet, but that doesn't matter.

                                            >He's stretching his limbs to show you that his body has a healthy range of movement.

                                            >It always reveals a few strong sources of his scent, which is an expression of his interest.

                                            >His joints pop and you are barely holding it together.

                                            >He just told you that he's willing to risk injury in order for you to consider him as a mate.

                                            >Oh Celestia you are so wet right now.

                                            >You give your usual response: You twitch your ears back twice to clean up your magical aura (your friends tell you that colts can't stand a poorly-maintained aura).

                                            >Next, you puff up your chest tuft to show off your magical capacity. You'll admit, it's a pretty modest tuft, but it's above average.

                                            >Okay, no, it's average.

                                            >Maybe slightly below average.

                                            >Oh god you would KILL for a thicker tuft.


                                            "Sir?"

                                            >Your husbando sits back down on his weird human chair and smiles at you.

                                            >His face is turning bright red.

                                            >That dirty little colt is showing off just how well he can direct the flow of his blood.

                                            >He's TOTALLY bragging to you. He wants you so badly.

                                            >He practically TEARS the mug from your magical grip, and you start to feel hot under the collar.

                                            >He just invaded your magic.

                                            >He was INSIDE you.

                                            >That was such an intimate gesture that you can't help but look around to see if anypony saw.

                                            >By the looks a few customers are giving you, they had.

                                            >Naughty colt.

                                            >If you weren't the socially-awkward fuck that you were, you would have him pinned beneath you right now, on the shitty patio table.


                                            >.....buck, nope, you can't do it.

                                            >Not today.

                                            >He's just too intimidating.

                                            >You're about to turn around and reject his flirtations (once again), when you hear a sound that almost stops your heart.

                                            >He's... cricking his neck.

                                            >Anon, your beautiful innocent perfect husbando just wrung his head back and forth and cricked his neck.

                                            >He's just destroyed his magical pheromone reserve glands.

                                            >He can never alert surrounding mares that he's interested in forming a herd.

                                            >This.... he did this for YOU.

                                            >A stallion only does this if they're satisfied with the number of mares in his herd.

                                            >From what you've heard around town, Anon doesn't even HAVE a herd.

                                            >But for him to show he's satisfied after all the flirting he's done....

                                            >He just asked your hoof in horsemarraige.

                                            >Oh goodness when did you start crying?

                                            >You think you hear gasps around you, but you're focusing on your delicate, dedicated Anon.

                                            >You leap up into his lap, spilling hot coffee all over the table, and kiss him.

                                            >You've never kissed anypony before, and you hope you're doing it right.

                                            >When you break away, you lay your head on his shoulder and nuzzle his neck to claim him as your own.

                                            >You do your dumb horse-face laugh and bear your teeth to declare to those around you that you've accepted his proposal.

                                            >The two of you are going to be so happy together.


                                            And that's the story of how Anon courted a mare for a months and asked her hand in marriage without ever realizing he was doing it.


                                            --------------------------------------------------------


                                            Prompt is that Rarity sees Anon about to step onto the street and straight into a puddle.  Like a gentlemare, she drapes her coat/cloak over the puddle for him to walk on.  Anon is confuse.


                                            >You are Rarity, and you have ruined your jacket for NOTHING.

                                            >The new 'human' colt in town, Anonymous, was about to soil hisself by setting hoof in a cold, dirty puddle on the street.

                                            >And not a single mare walking around offered to help him!

                                            >These..... alpha-mare Neanderponies don't know how to treat a stallion right.

                                            >Are concepts such as 'respect' and 'courtesy' truly unknown to these boorish pigs?

                                            >Guess you have to be a jerk to get a stallion, now a-days.

                                            >You did what any gentlemare was honour-bound to do.

                                            >You unclasped the polished gem on your cloak, and magicked it onto the offending puddle.

                                            "M'lord should not have to sully his gorgeous shoes! Please, allow me."

                                            >You even raise a forehoof and do a little bow.

                                            >You, of course, can do this perfectly.

                                            >Something your little sister cannot say for herself.

                                            >Oh, the countless hours you've practices in front of your mannequins...

                                            >Being a genglemare is HARD.


                                            >Anon looks so confused at your actions.

                                            >My Celestia, is such proper behaviour so foreign to him?

                                            >Twilight told you he was being treated with 'the respect and dignity a sentient being deserves'.

                                            >Clearly not, if nopony has ever gone out of their way to make Anon feel appreciated.

                                            >You understand, though.

                                            >Colts tend to be a little bit slower than mares, so you know you need to give him a bit of a push in the right direction.

                                            "M'lord may now proceed at his leisure."

                                            >A+, 100%, ten-oudda-ten.

                                            >That's right, darling, this is a mare who will make you feel special.

                                            >Just take that step and accept your help.

                                            >....

                                            >The buck? He just stepped around it.

                                            >Your jacket, that you GENEROUSLY and SELFLESSLY sacrificed for him.

                                            >Sacrificed because you value his WELL-BEING over a silly JACKET.

                                            >You even called him "M'lord".

                                            >Stallions LOVE being made to think they're superior!

                                            >Dammit, he should be on his knees, licking your clit by now!

                                            >Fucking colts, you do SO MUCH for them and ask for SO LITTLE in return, and this is what you get.

                                            >You get spit in the face, is what you get.

                                            >Doesn't he know how special you were? How well you would treat him? How high a pillar you would set him on?

                                            >Any PROPER stallion would be falling over themselves to have you as a marefriend!

                                            >Anon must have some tight-cunt mare waiting at home for him, who... who... LAVISHES attention on him when she isn't working to the bone to PROVIDE for his unappreciative ass.

                                            >Fucking colts.


                                            >You did not get your pussy stuffed today.


                                            --------------------------------------------


                                            >Day Scottish Apple Ponies in Equestria

                                            >You are Anon, hard-working farmhand at Sweet Apple Acres.

                                            >You wrangle bales of hay into submission and use your superior human upper body strength and core to toss them into the barn.

                                            >You haul baskets of apples two-at-a-time into the carts to be brought into town.

                                            >All under the watchful eye of the tiny baby horse, Apple Bloom.

                                            >"A'richt, Anon, keep yer back straecht! AJ wull tan mah scouk something awfy if ye pull something."

                                            >This was the deal you set up with Applejack, your boss.

                                            >You can do all the physical labour you want, but only if somepony is watching you to make sure you don't get hurt.

                                            >It was a bit of a hit to your pride when the decided that a filly was the best candidate for you, but you like to think that it was because Big Mac was too busy to keep an eye out.

                                            >You LIKE to think that, but you're probably wrong.

                                            >Applejack had this speech ready for Apple Bloom, and you THINK it was supposed to be about protecting you.

                                            >The words 'stubborn' and 'delicate' were thrown around pretty frequently, but in all honesty you couldn't understand a word that orange mare said.


                                            >"Tis bin three hours, Anon, sae it's aboot time fur yer break!"

                                            "Sure thing, Bloom."

                                            >You sit down at the base of a nearby apple tree and lean back, closing your eyes.

                                            >"Anon, a'm aff tae gang plooter th' ither Crusaders fur a while, okay?"

                                            "Have fun, Bloom."

                                            >She paws the dirt anxiously.

                                            >"Ah will be back afore yer break is ower, sae dinnae stairt anythin' wi'oot me."

                                            >Yes, Jesus, you get it.

                                            "Get outta here, Bloom. Time's a-wastin'."

                                            >She nods happily and runs off in the direction of the clubhouse.

                                            >She's back after just a few minutes, though, and she's got her friends with her.

                                            >"Anon, th' ither Crusaders didnae believe me whin ah tellt thaim we let ye wirk oan th' farm, sae ah brought thaim tae see ye. "

                                            >Nobody ever does.

                                            >You get a good look at the little fillies. You haven't been formally introduced to them yet, and it's always nice to meet new faces.

                                            >The white one walks up to you, looking kind of nervous.

                                            >You ARE three times her size, though, so you guess you understand.

                                            >>"You're not a giant."

                                            She says that so accusingly.

                                            "Is that was Bloom told you?"

                                            >"Well, you ARE pretty tall. Heck, you're probably taller than the Princesses. If that don't make you a giant, I don't know what does!"

                                            >You guess she has a point.

                                            "What's your name, kid?"

                                            >SB: "I'm Sweetie Belle. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

                                            >She raises a forehoof and does this little bow, but she stumbles forward and falls into your lap. The other two crusaders laugh at her, and you chuckle along good-naturedly

                                            "Well, it's very nice to meet you, Sweetie Belle."

                                            >No need to make it hard on the kid. You scratch behind her ears, and she curls up in your lap.

                                            >Then, the orange filly walks forward, a slight strut in her walk.

                                            >"The name's Scootaloo! You'll be wanting to know what to scream into your pillow, so don't forget it!"

                                            "What?!"

                                            >Scootaloo shrinks back at your outburst.

                                            >S: "Did... did I say that wrong? Rainbow Dash told me that was the proper way to greet a stallion."

                                            >Of course she did.

                                            >Fucking birdpones.

                                            >And so, this is how you spend the rest of your break.

                                            >Babysitting children, one of which is under the impression that she's babysitting YOU.

                                            >Scootaloo even manages to get up into a tree.

                                            >Took her three tries.

                                            >Heh.

                                            >You still can't believe she said that shit.

                                            >Are you the first guy she introduced herself to like that?

                                            >You hope not.

                                            >You're going to need to talk to Dash when you shift is over.

                                            >As funny as it was, that shit needs to stop.

                                            >Ugh, should you, though?

                                            You get that things between mares and stallions are... DIFFERENT than what you dealt with back home, and you don't want to be that stuck-up suburban mom that complains about shit "corrupting the youth".

                                            >Ehh, fuck it.

                                            >It's not your kid.

                                            >S: "M-mister Anon! Mister Anon!"

                                            >Oh jeez she looks scared.

                                            "What's the matter, Scootaloo?"

                                            >S: "Mister Anon, Apple Bloom's stuck up a tree and she can't get down!"

                                            >You follow the scared filly to where Sweetie Belle is anxiously circling a tree.

                                            "Why didn't you go find Applejack?"

                                            >S: "Rainbow says that you were probably really skilled with your wood, so that must mean you can do something about Apple Bloom, right?

                                            >Hahaha, god dammit, Rainbow.

                                            >S: "Apple Bloom, Anon's here to get you out of the tree, okay?"

                                            >AB: "Anon?! bit he cannae buck trees, he'll git hurt! Juist git mah sister!"

                                            >S: "Don't worry, AB, Anon here's really good with hi-

                                            >You cover Scootaloo's mouth with your hand.

                                            "Stay where you are, Bloom, and I'll come up and get you.

                                            >You crouch down and spring up, grabbing the lowest branch.

                                            >Doing things that this Anon can't describe because he can't climb trees for shit IRL, you reach the perch where Apple Bloom is.

                                            >You scare the SHIT out of Sweetie Bell at one point when a branch you were grabbing snapped, and she ran off.

                                            >You scoop up the scared filly, and tuck her in the front of your jacket.

                                            "Easy now, I've got you. You're safe."

                                            >Apple Bloom wriggles around and turns to face you. She wraps her hooves around you and buries her face in the croof of your neck.

                                            "How did you even get up here, Bloom?"

                                            >A mumbled, heavily-accented response is all you get.

                                            >You don't understand a word of it, but you pretend that you do.

                                            "Well, be more careful next time. I don't want to see you hurt, okay?

                                            >Apple Bloom nods into your neck.

                                            >AJ: "Apple Bloom! Sweetie Belle cam tae git me, 'n' said ye wur in trauchle! Whaur urr ye? "

                                            The cavalry has arrived.

                                            >You hop down deftly, landing a few feet in front of Applejack, who gasps and jumps backward.

                                            >AJ: "Anon! whit wur ye daein' in that tr-Apple Bloom! Whit wur ye thinking, climbing that tree! "

                                            >You try to put the tiny, yellow pony onto the ground, but she tightens her grip and nuzzles your neck.

                                            >Was she really THAT scared?

                                            >AJ: "Apple Bloom, ye let gang o' Anon this instant. Keek at a' th' trauchle ye caused th'day. Ye cuid hae gotten hurt, 'n' Anon cuid hae gotten hurt trying tae hulp ye. "

                                            >She take a pull from the tiny cider barrel she has tied around her neck, and glares at her sister.

                                            "C'mon, Bloom, you need to talk to your sister. I'll still be on the farm when you're done, okay?"

                                            >Apple Bloom nods and lets you put her on the ground.

                                            >AJ: "Apple bloom, ah thought ye wur smarter than that. Ye ken that none o` yer mukkers wid be able tae hulp ye oot o' a tree, 'n' ye'r damn jammy that anon didnae hurt his-sel climbing that tree fur ye. Ye wur suppose tae keek efter th' colt, nae pat him in danger! ah assigned ye tae keek efter him, nae th' ither wey aroond!"

                                            >AB: "Scootaloo git up thare na kinch, 'n' her wings dinnae even wirk properly yit! forby, ah didnae need anon tae git me doon. A'm an earth pony, ah cuid tak' th' fall! 'twas scootaloo wha git anon, even efter ah tellt her nae tae. Aj, if a'm auld enough tae keek efter a stallion, then a'm auld enough tae climb a tree."

                                            >AJ: "If ye wur auld enough tae climb a tree, ye'r an' a' auld enough tae ken howfur dangerous it cuid be! ah dinnae care if ye'r earth pony, pegasus, unicorn, or princess celestia herself. If ye fall 'n' land th' wrong wey, ye'r aff tae injure yersel' something pure mental!"

                                            >AJ: "'n' anither thing. Whaur dae ye git aff takin wae me Anon intae this? whit if he fell? whit if he dropped ye? ah'ament a scholar lik' twilight is, bit even ah ken that th' heavier something is, th' harder it hits th' ground. Ah dinnae care whit Anon says aboot howfur muckle 'n' tough he is; at th' end o' th' day he's juist a colt, 'n' colts ur nae something ye juist toss intae danger, willy-nilly."


                                            >Apple Bloom tries to say something, but Applejack takes another swig of her cider barrel and cuts her off.

                                            >AJ: "We'll blether in th' hoose. Noo say cheerio the nou tae yer mukkers, 'n' git back tae wirk peepin' Anon."

                                            >And with that, Applejack stomps away in the direction of the fields. Apple Bloom sighs and turns to her friends.

                                            >AB: "Bye ye guys. It's time fur me tae get back tae darg."

                                            >Before her friends walk off, she turns to you. You sit down to get eye-level with her.

                                            >AB: "An' thank ye Anon fur gettin' me oot i' yon tree. Don't clype anypony else, bit ah wis really scared up aire."

                                            >She nuzzles your arm and, smiling, you pull her into your lap, just like you did with Sweetie Belle.

                                            >The other Crusaders start to laugh again.

                                            >SB: "See you later, Anon. Take good care of your daughter for us, okay?"

                                            >S: "Yeah, bye-bye, daddy!"

                                            >Apple Bloom is too busy getting belly rubs to care about what her friends said.

                                            >What a cuddle-slut.


                                            I tried to make their accents as incomprehensible as possible. Success?


                                            ----------------------------------------------------


                                            prompt:

                                            >Anon is invited to a slumber party at Sweet Apple Acres with his stallion friends

                                            >He would have rather not go, but Caramel made him come

                                            >He partcipates in pony games and such and eventually enjoys himself

                                            >They're all unaware that the Mane 6/CMC have been peeking in from the other room.


                                            paste:

                                            >Okay, Dashie, keep it together.

                                            >This window is too high up. Nopony ever even looks up here.

                                            >You could park your cyan face right up against the glass all night and they'd never know.

                                            >......

                                            >There's nothing PERVY about wanting to check up on the colts without disturbing them.

                                            >You want to make sure that Anon is making friends.

                                            >A little peek is justifiable.

                                            >....

                                            >Sweet Celestia, Anon wears CLOTHES even when he sleeps?

                                            "D-dirty colt...."

                                            >Maybe....

                                            >Maybe this will be a sexy slumberparty.

                                            >Your wings stiffen and you have a little bit of trouble keeping airborne.


                                            >One Hour Later

                                            >Time to check up on the colts again.

                                            >See how Anon is do-ARE THEY HUGGING

                                            >Anon... is he...?

                                            >No way.

                                            >No. Bucking. Way.

                                            >Anon is rubbing Caramel's belly.

                                            >OOooooohohoho this clop material will last you for a MONTH.

                                            >Caramel is really into it.

                                            >Look at the way his muzzle scrunches up

                                            >The faint blush on his cheeks

                                            >The way his back leg kicks

                                            >And Anon has the biggest smile on his face.

                                            >He knows EXACTLY what he's doing.

                                            >Rarity said he was an innocent, naive little colt, but you know better now.

                                            >Sitting there in his thin, loose clothes; Caramel draped over his crotch; Anon's fingers digging into his soft fur and wriggling around on his unresisting belly...

                                            >HNNGG


                                            >Two Hours Later

                                            >Now that you've... taken care of some, er, urges... you are back to see how Anon is doing.

                                            >You fly your cyan keister up to the window and... is that giggling?

                                            >You hear playful laughter and the sound of something soft hitting something else.

                                            >oh filly are they having a pillow fight

                                            >pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease

                                            >IT'S EVEN BETTER

                                            >They're playing Twister!

                                            >Hot, sweaty colts piling on top of each other, muscles twitching as they try not to collapse into a sexy pile of pone

                                            >You're Anon and this story si going nowhere.

                                            >Rainbow Dash twists her teats and cums all over Applejack's barn or wherever Anon and the colts are.

                                            >The End.


                                            ---------------------------------------------------------------


                                            >You are Anon, the human.

                                            >You currently work for Rarity to pay for the damage you caused to her boutique.

                                            >These damages were incurred when you fell from the sky at terminal velocity.

                                            >You scared the HELL out of her cat.

                                            >Lucky for you, whatever magic that blinked you into existence a few kilometres above the ground kept you from getting hurt very badly.

                                            >The magic that kept you alive fucked RIGHT off once you were done falling, though.

                                            >If the earth-shattering kaboom didn't wake Rarity and her sister, then your ungodly screams of pain did.

                                            >Anyway, it's been nearly a year since you've arrived in Equestria, and turns out that the boutique is expensive as shit.

                                            >That, or Rarity just likes to keep you around.

                                            >Half your pay goes to damages, and you get to sleep in the guest room.

                                            >It's a pretty generous deal for a weird alien thing that scares the piss out of your average pony, for whatever reason.

                                            >Anyway, you're making your way downtown walking fast faces pass and you're homebound

                                            >Lunch time.

                                            >Being the only human, you garner a bit of attention.

                                            >"Look, Bonnie, it's Anonymous. Eating alone again."

                                            >Well fuck you too, tiny horse. We can't all be social butterflies.

                                            >>"Well, what did you expect? It's not like Rarity CARES about him or anything."

                                            >Hey now, that's not cool. Your bro works STRAIGHT through her lunch hour.

                                            >"Ugh, I KNOW. I'll bet she doesn't even touch him."

                                            >And suddenly the conversation is about touching your no-no place.

                                            >>"And it's so obvious what she's doing, too! He's her tuft."

                                            >"You think so? I thought he was just a trophy-colt!"

                                            >>"I don't think so, Lyra; I KNOW so. What kind of herdless colt stays off the market for as long as the human has? Rarity clearly has SOMETHING hanging over the human's head, and she's using him so that nopony figures out how much of a huge DYKE she is."


                                            And that's how you learned that Rarity was gay and was using you as her beard.