[FLUTTERRAPE] Under The Bed


                                            >Rarity enters the room.

                                            >You're not sure why, given that it's ten o'clock in the evening and this clearly isn't her house.

                                            >But still, regardless as to -why- she entered the room, she does just that, and so there she is.

                                            >Standing in the doorway, giving you a most judgemental stare.

                                            >Frankly, you don't care for it; not her arrogant manner nor her imperious scrutiny.

                                            >A part of you reasons that she's only squinting at you because it's quite dim in your bedroom, on account of all the lights being switched off, and she likely can't see very well with only the weak bulbs from your hallway breaching the gloom.

                                            >She does, after all, wear glasses on occasion, so she likely has a bit more difficulty seeing in the dark than most ponies.

                                            >Then there is the other element to consider, which Rarity is all too keen to remark upon.

                                            >"What in Grim's name are you doing, Darling?"

                                            >Who is Grim? A question for later. At the moment, you're a bit more concerned with your immediate surroundings, and broadly motion as such with the bedside lamp you're currently wielding as an improvised club.

                                            "Trying to survive what may well be my final night on this Earth, Rarity."

                                            >"Ah, I see, I see."

                                            >She nods pensively, her acute attention to detail and razor wit deconstructing the scene before her.

                                            >"And why, if I may, are you only wearing your underpants?"

                                            "I was caught unawares, and have had neither the chance nor inclination to dress myself in something more proper."

                                            >"One must -always- be inclined to dress in something more proper, Anonymous."

                                            "Whilst I would ordinarily agree with you, the circumstances at hand demanded a shift in priorities."

                                            >"Quite the scandal, to be left so bare, no?"

                                            "Quite."

                                            >"And to further press, is that a -lamp- you're clutching?"

                                            "It is, yes."

                                            >"I see."

                                            "It has served me well thus far, though I cannot say for how much longer."

                                            >"You seem to be in a precarious situation, especially given your, ah, vantage point."

                                            >You glance down at your body; your feet firmly planted and legs squatted atop your bed.

                                            >The metal bed frame shakes slightly, and considering the events of the previous hour, you're certain it's not because your legs are trembling a bit.

                                            >Rarity seems nonplussed for a spell, but remains characteristically prim.

                                            >"Will you be wanting to stay up there for a while? I am a mare with a mission, you see."

                                            "I will be until the situation has been resolved."

                                            >"And when will that be, dear?"

                                            "Either when I am dead, or the demon beneath me has been vanquished."

                                            >"A demon!" she sounds alarmed, but her face retains a vaguely patronising air.

                                            "Quite the bitch, she is."

                                            >"Are you positive it's a she?"

                                            "I have, unwittingly, seen Fluttershy's genitals enough times to confirm that she is female."

                                            >"So Fluttershy is a demon now?"

                                            "Not so much -now-, I am of the opinion that she's -always- been one."

                                            >"That's a rude assessment of our friend, Anonymous."

                                            "-Friend- implies that I regard her with anything other than sheer contempt."

                                            >"Oh well now you're just being hyperbolic."

                                            "Perhaps; perhaps not; regardless of your opinions, she has me trapped."

                                            >"Can you not simply flee the room?"

                                            >Rather than answer, you reach down and pluck the one remaining pillow from your bed in a hand, then gently toss it from the bed onto the floor.

                                            >A dim jaundice blur erupts from beneath the bed the moment the linen touches the wood, dragging it back into the ominous dark beneath you.

                                            >Your bed shakes and rocks some more before the pillow is ejected out the other end, sopping wet and glistening in the dim light, a translucent goo dripping from every inch.

                                            >Rarity stares at it, swallowing before she looks back to you.

                                            >"That is, ah, quite the problem."

                                            "Myes, so I'm sure you can understand now why I am incapable of merely jumping off the bed, let alone getting dressed."

                                            >"Perhaps I could offer my services?"

                                            "I doubt dressmaking will assist me, not that you aren't a wonderful seamstress."

                                            >"I meant more as Fluttershy's friend."

                                            "If you would be so kind."

                                            >Rarity steps forth and stops by your bed, leaning her head down slightly and peering into the shadows.

                                            >"Fluttershy, dear? Would you mind leaving Anonymous alone? It's rather late, I'm here on an errand, and I have to be blunt, sodomising pillows is beneath you."

                                            "Technically it's beneath me, given my position."

                                            >"Do be quiet, Anon."

                                            "Sorry."

                                            >A low growl rumbles from the den, and Rarity frowns.

                                            >"Now there's no need for that, surely there are other things you could be doing with your time? What about Angel Bunny, doesn't he need you back at the cottage?"

                                            >Fluttershy doesn't respond, and instead a hoof darts out to swipe at Rarity.

                                            >The mare yelps and leaps up onto your bed with you, the mattress and frame complaining from the added weight.

                                            "Ah; that was a mistake."

                                            >The unicorn frowns up at you from her place nestled against your leg.

                                            >"Diplomacy is often the first port of call when defusing delicate situations, Anon, but that doesn't mean it always works."

                                            "Less that, more that you're now up here with me."

                                            >"Why is that a problem?"

                                            "Because you, much like the pillow over there did, now smell like me."

                                            >Rarity lifts one dainty hoof and sniffs.

                                            >She hums contemplatively.

                                            >"How very... fragrant."

                                            "Humans sweat roughly two-hundred millilitres of water a night."

                                            >"Oh. Lovely."

                                            "More when under stress."

                                            >Rarity notices the sheen across your skin and nods.

                                            >"And now I am marked as well?"

                                            "I'm afraid so."

                                            >"So we're stuck here?"

                                            "Unless you want to jump off."

                                            >The unicorn ponders this, then edges nearer to the lip of the mattress and dangles her finely maintained tail before the lair.

                                            >Almost immediately another blitz of yellow snatches the tail right off her, a dull ripping and a strangled cry of horror from Rarity prompting her to scramble back against your leg in the throes of fear.

                                            >Rarity, now tailless, gawks up at you.

                                            >"My tail!"

                                            "Your tail."

                                            >"She took my -tail-!"

                                            "At least your dock is still intact."

                                            >The seamstress twists herself to behold the little white knub at the end of her body, previously masked by a luxurious purple coiffure, now stark naked and dotted with a few remaining strands of scented hair.

                                            >She whimpers.

                                            >"B-but how did this happen? How did she get under there? Why is she doing this?"

                                            "A fine set of questions. So, I went to bed early tonight, and when I woke up, she was on my chest."

                                            >...

                                            >"...And then?"

                                            "Well that was it. She was just on my chest staring at me with those captivating and mildly terrifying baby blues."

                                            >"I always considered them more 'cyan', than blue."

                                            "You're the fashion expert; it's all just blue to me."

                                            >"But how did she get under your bed?"

                                            "I hit her with the lamp."

                                            >"Ah. Then what?"

                                            "I hit her again for good measure."

                                            >"This repelled her?"

                                            "Momentarily; eventually we reached a stalemate. She cannot come up here, but I cannot go down there."

                                            >"Have you tried?"

                                            "Many times, if you would turn your attention to my right foot."

                                            >She glances down at it, and notices that everything up to your knee is coated in a glossy viscous substance.

                                            >"How positively revolting."

                                            "The smell is perhaps the worst part."

                                            >"It smells like squash soup."

                                            "Yes! I thought the very same."

                                            >"And why is she doing this? I never took her for a rapacious monster."

                                            "She hides it quite well from the rest of you; I'm sorry you had to find out this way that your dear friend is quite insane. I also think oestrus might be involved."

                                            >"Oh no, darling, that's not for another four months."

                                            "So we cannot use it as a scapegoat to explain Fluttershy's thoroughly out-of-character mischief?"

                                            >"Unfortunately."

                                            "Are we going to have to rationalise it another way?"

                                            >"You already stated that she's a few stitches short of an embroidery, I think the readers will accept that well enough."

                                            "I hope you're right, Rarity."

                                            >"So now what?"

                                            "Now, we wait until morning and try not to fall asleep."

                                            >"I shudder to imagine what would happen if we did."

                                            "Ironic, in a way."

                                            >"Oh?"

                                            "Ordinarily I would have given a great deal to end up in bed with you, but now we both find ourselves here I can think of nothing worse."

                                            >"I had no idea you felt this way."

                                            "Truly? I thought you would have noticed how often I dab my forehead when you're nearby."

                                            >"Truthfully I thought you were just sweaty."

                                            "I am, but you also have a tendency to raise the temperature of any room you walk into."

                                            >"Including this one?"

                                            "One would assume so, but the cold chill of fear is keeping me from sweating -too- much."

                                            >"So you have reached an equilibrium; you are both turned on and turned off in equal measure."

                                            "I am caught between arousal and terror; it reminds me of college."

                                            >"A story for another time?"

                                            "If we survive."

                                            >"Do we have the time in here? I cannot see a clock."

                                            "No, the clock was one of the first things to go."

                                            >"Exactly how much of your room is under the bed?"

                                            "Anything that bore my scent and wasn't tied down."

                                            >Rarity cranes her neck at the chair in the corner.

                                            >"Except that?"

                                            "No, she left the chair, but I'm afraid the scarf that was on it which you gave me for Hearth's Warming is no longer with us."

                                            >"Consigned to oblivion?"

                                            "Anything currently under the bed is destined for a pyre."

                                            >"Wise."

                                            >You readjust your position, arms aching from clutching the lamp for so long.

                                            >With your new companion, however, a plan begins to form.

                                            >You muse for a while, and quickly come to a conclusion.

                                            "If I might be so bold, you have encouraged me."

                                            >"I do tend to have that affect on ponies. And Spike."

                                            "How quick on the draw are you with your magic?"

                                            >"I have been known to have my moments of agility."

                                            "My right leg is already tainted, so it cannot get much worse; if I step off the bed would you be able to grab Fluttershy when she lunges for me?"

                                            >"I can certainly try, though I am no Twilight Sparkle."

                                            "In some ways you are preferable."

                                            >"You are too kind."

                                            "I suppose we shall have to inform Sparkle of all this?"

                                            >"If we survive."

                                            "Then let's get to it."

                                            >You step off the bed, your right foot shuddering the floor with its impact.

                                            >As soon as it does, you feel warmth, moisture, and disgust in equal measure as the frenzied beast latches on and begins feverishly slobbering your leg with as much tongue and tooth as she can manage.

                                            >Just before you resign to the idea that your leg might need to be amputated after today, the ravenous pegasus is halted with a confused squeak.

                                            >You look to see Rarity straining herself, her horn aglow with an ethereal blue as she struggles to maintain a grasp on the now furiously writhing Fluttershy.

                                            >Not wanting to waste anymore time, you bring the lamp down on her head, the object shattering into thin ceramic shards.

                                            >This stuns your assailant, and she sags in the magical field that Rarity then relinquishes with a gasp.

                                            >You stare down at the limp form of Fluttershy, and Rarity peers over the edge of the bed with trepidation.

                                            >"Is she... out?"

                                            "It would appear so."

                                            >"Thank heavens; we make a good team, Anonymous!"

                                            >You give her a wan smile.

                                            "We do, don't we?"

                                            >"Something the matter?"

                                            "I'm tired, Rarity; it has been an arduous night."

                                            >"Never mind that now, darling, we have seen an end to the horror."

                                            "A welcome development, that."

                                            >"What do you intend to do with Fluttershy?"

                                            "I shall delicately relocate her."

                                            >At that, you grip Fluttershy's mane, drag her to your bedroom window, and throw her out into the night before slamming the pane shut again.

                                            >Standing once more at the side of your much-tortured bed, you regard Rarity with your hands on your hips.

                                            >The mare, still sat on your bed, smiles fondly at you.

                                            "Now, onto more pressing matters."

                                            >"Of course."

                                            "Please do not think me ungrateful for both your presence and your talents, but why did you suddenly appear at my house? Is the door unlocked?"

                                            >"Oh yes, that. I have found that your genteel mannerisms and polite demeanour are quite irresistible."

                                            "Is that so?"

                                            >"Yes, and I journeyed here to have my way with you, willing or otherwise."

                                            "As luck would have it, your affections are wholeheartedly reciprocated."

                                            >"As I was pleased to discover earlier; I suggest you wake yourself up then, we have a long night ahead of us, unless you are too exhausted? Not that that would stop me?"

                                            "My body is tired, but my soul is willing."

                                            >"An uplifting end to your otherwise troubling evening, is it not?"

                                            "The dragon has been defeated, the maiden rescued, and the treasure secured. Yes, I think this is a fine way to end our adventure."

                                            >"I am pleased to hear it. I hope you don't mind, but I must confess something before we begin."

                                            "Oh?"

                                            >"I bite. Hard."

                                            "Riveting."


                                            The End.