[RGRE] Batponies pt 1


                                            Setup:

                                            >Another human was transported to Equestria, over a thousand years ago

                                            >Found a herd and had bat-foals, much to his and his herd's surprise

                                            >Turns out the bat-genes are dominant, and much like how human + pony = bat, pony + bat = bat

                                            >Years pass, a new species has been born, and the telephone game encourages the batponies to eventually consider that human to be almost a religious icon

                                            >Now, a thousand years later, Anon reappears once more

                                            >The local batpony population stirs, and Anon feels vaguely familiar to those who studied their history

                                            >When Anon settles down with a herd and produces batpony offspring, this sends the batpony population into a frenzy

                                            >"He has returned! The great up-walker, father to us all!"

                                            Or a title less fucking dumb than that.

                                            >They believe that Anon is the reincarnation of the human who helped create the first batponies all those years ago

                                            >Anon is constantly harassed by batponies


                                            My shit:


                                            >>36534487

                                            >It's Friday today; the busiest day of the week in the Ponyville marketplace.

                                            >You can barely hear yourself think over the din of indistinguishable voices coming from the crowd of ponies wandering around.

                                            >Some enter the market to shop.

                                            >Some enter only to exit on the other side, using the market as a shortcut to wherever it is they're going.

                                            >SOME ponies - who have unusual bat-like wings and pointy teeth - entered the market right around the time you did this morning, and haven't fucking left yet.

                                            >Two bat-ponies - Luna's new guard force - planted themselves in the bushes across from your market stall, and the adorable little darlings think that they're actually hidden from you.

                                            >You glance around, and nopony seems to be glancing in their direction.

                                            >Maybe it just works with ponies?

                                            "Hey."

                                            >You gently nudge Apple Bloom, who's crouched down at your feet.

                                            >She perks up and stares up at you with big, curious eyes.

                                            >"What is it, 'Nawn?"

                                            "Take a look over in those bushes."

                                            >You point over to where the bat-ponies are "hiding".

                                            "You see anything?"

                                            >Apple Bloom drops her clipboard and pencil and climbs up the series of shelves that make up your end of the stall so that she can peek her head over the counter.

                                            >She stares directly at the bat-ponies, and they stare back at her.

                                            >It's high-noon, and so the bush isn't even giving those little weirdos any shadow-cover.

                                            >"...what am I supposed to be lookin' at, mister?"

                                            "Those two ponies in the bushes.  You see'em?"

                                            >Apple Bloom squints, and then shakes her head.

                                            >"Sorry, 'Nawn, I ain't seein' nothing."

                                            >She looks up at you with concern.

                                            >"Are y'all feelin' alright?   I can go get some water for you, if yer feelin' a case of the vapours comin' on."

                                            >Well, fuck.

                                            >You pat Apple Bloom on the head and scritch behind her ears; the filly squeaks and leans into your hand.

                                            "No, Apple Bloom, that's fine.  But thank you for being so thoughtful."

                                            >Apple Bloom glows under your praise and hops back down to her place on the ground.

                                            >It seems the little filly has taken a shine to you.

                                            >More than once, she's promised that when she grows up to be a big strong mare, she's going to protect you and take care of you.

                                            >What a cutie.

                                            >She is, however, about eight years old and you don't put much faith in these vows.

                                            >Now, you might be wondering why you're manning a market stall.

                                            >You might even be wondering why Apple Bloom is here, and why she has a clipboard and pencil.

                                            >Well, that's because you are Anon.

                                            >And you work for the Apples.

                                            >The crowd is up and about, and Applejack needs to attract customers to her stall.

                                            >So she's hired you to, quote-unquote, "use yer mas-cew-line wiles and put on the charm", to help sell apples.

                                            >You don't know what mistakes you've made for your life to reach this point, but at least doing this pays well.

                                            >Apple Bloom is here to take care of the 'hard stuff'; AKA writing down what you sold and adding up that day's sales.

                                            >You would have made a point of objecting to the assumption that you're too air-headed to be trusted with math, but you failed pre-cal twice back in high school.

                                            >So, y'know...

                                            >Math is hard.

                                            >You can hear Caramel's voice in your head, tiredly begging you to stop being such a stereotype.

                                            >Despite the rumbling of pony voices coming from the ever-shifting crowd, you can hear the pair of bat-ponies squeaking to each other.

                                            >>"Did you see that?!"

                                            >>>"He saw through us!  It's really him!"

                                            >The pair of bat-ponies titter excitedly to each other, widdle hoofies batting back and forth in an enthusiastic impromptu game of patty-cake.

                                            >>"He's returned!  He's back!"

                                            >>>"What are we supposed to do now?  D-Do we tell the Nightmother?"

                                            >You try to focus on your job, smiling sweetly and waving at mares when you catch their eye.

                                            >Sometimes this works.

                                            >Sometimes, you convince a baker to make apple dishes that day instead of cherry dishes.

                                            >Sometimes, you convinces an ordinary mare that an apple sure would hit the spot right about now.

                                            >On one particularly hot day when you were a bit sweaty, you got a big sale of apples when you agreed to rub a few of them against your dick.

                                            >You made Apple Bloom turn away when you did that, but you think she still snuck a peek at you.

                                            >She IS Applejack's sister, after all.

                                            >Despite your efforts to remain focused, you can STILL hear the bat-ponies chattering.

                                            >>"Talk to him, Scarlet!  Go up and say something!"

                                            >One of the bat-ponies - Scarlet, you guess - shoves the other one.

                                            >>>"YOU talk to him, Ivory!  I'm not gonna be the bat who's responsible for chasing the Nightfather away!"

                                            >Nightfather?

                                            >Fucking excuse you?

                                            >You're frankly quite tempted to get up and confront those ponies, but a soft jab in the shin from Apple Bloom reminds you why you're being paid your wages by the Apple family.

                                            >And so, you try to put the pair of bat-ponies out of your mind and do your best to drum up some business.

                                            >You even undo the first few buttons on your shirt for good measure.

                                            >Ponies here in Ponyville are normally nude, but this strangely works wonders.

                                            >Maybe it's the excitement of a male revealing more of his body.

                                            >Maybe ponies just think bare skin (as opposed to fur) is taboo.

                                            >Either way, it gets a few mares sweating when you do this.

                                            >"Hey there, sweet thing."

                                            >Speaking of sweaty mares, one of your regulars are back.

                                            >A slightly plump unicorn with a light-pink coat and a yellow mane walks confidently up to your stall.

                                            >You can hear the bat-ponies shushing each other as she approaches, and they stare at her intently from their "hiding space".

                                            >You put on your usual smile and launch your script.

                                            "Welcome to Applejack's Apple Stall; home of the famous Ponyville apple.  Can I hel-"

                                            >A tiny hoof pokes you in the shin again, and you cough into your fist.

                                            >Right, right; gotta put those 'mas-cew-line wiles' to good use.

                                            >A sultry grin stretches your lips, and you lean forward as though you were INCREDIBLY interested in good ol' what's-her-name over here.

                                            >This has the added benefit of opening your parted shirt, showing off more mysteriously-alluring skin.

                                            "Welcome back, sweetie," you say in a husky drawl, "Are you here for the apples, or are you here to talk to little ol' me?"

                                            >You giggle and try not to cringe.

                                            "I'm okay with either one, you know."

                                            >The mare's face heats up, and she licks her dry lips.

                                            >Near as you can tell, your job is half apple salesman, and half Japanese hostess.

                                            >You gotta talk these mares up and make'em think you're interested in them, even if you both know you're only doing it because you're being paid.

                                            >You get paid more than the average stall-worker would get, and it turns out that putting food on your place is enough to buy your dignity.

                                            >"Yeah, greenbean," the mare purrs, eyes locked on your exposed chest, "I'll take a dozen apples."

                                            >You make a show of pouting sadly.

                                            "Just a dozen?" you ask, sounding disappointed, "Our apples are the best you'll find in town, you know; and you can use them for all sorts of thing."

                                            >You lean forward more and reach out, almost touching her but never quite reaching all the way.

                                            "Are you sure there isn't anything I could do to convince you to buy a few more?"

                                            >You make a point of looking around as though looking for ponies listening in.

                                            >The bat-ponies are watching with rapt attention, though.

                                            >They look kinda horrified, now that you're paying attention to them.

                                            >Weird.

                                            >Also, concerning.

                                            "Maybe I could... kiss-"

                                            >The mare's ears perk up.

                                            "-one of them?"

                                            >The mare looks a bit disappointed.

                                            >"Well... I think I'd be interested in buying a few bushels of apples-"

                                            >Whoo!

                                            >You get a little bonus for every group of two bushels that you sell!

                                            >"...if you gave one of them a 'special' kiss."

                                            >...oh.

                                            >Well, fuck.

                                            >That means your dick.

                                            >Painfully aware that Apple Bloom is less than a foot from you, you keep smiling and wink at the mare.

                                            "I think that can be arranged, cutie."

                                            >A bit of frothy sweat has built up on the mare's coat by now, and she shakily lifts her bits out of her saddlebag with magic.

                                            >"Alright, then.  Four bushels, please."

                                            >She licks her lips.

                                            >"...and a 'special kiss' for one of them."

                                            >Christ, these thirsty fucking mares.

                                            >A dozen or so feet away, you can hear the bat-ponies talking to each other again.

                                            >>"What does 'special kiss' mean, Scarlet?"

                                            >>>"I dunno, Ivory.  But whatever it is, it's unbecoming of the nightfather."

                                            >>"I don't like this."

                                            >A tiny hoof pats you happily on the shin, and the sound of pencil-on-paper makes itself known from underneath the stall.

                                            >Apple Bloom is pleased as punch to write down that you sold four whole bushels.

                                            >In a market where ponies never buy more than half-a-dozen apples (unless they're baking), this was a might fine sale you just nailed.

                                            >That bonus is NEARLY worth the cost of your dignity.

                                            >Nearly.

                                            >She empties her bit-bag onto the counter, and waits patiently for you to do your part.

                                            >The bat-ponies in the bushes across from you look outraged as you make a show of slooooowly grabbing one of the apples you're selling and pulling open the front of your pants.

                                            >The mare in front of you bites her lip, and her eyes are locked on your belt-line.

                                            >You nudge Apple Bloom, and with a sigh, you hear the sound of fur-on-gravel as she turns away.

                                            >You think so, anyway.

                                            >The bat-ponies squeak with outrage.

                                            >>"S-Scarlet!  Is she making him-?"

                                            >>>"This... this cannot... th-the indignity of it!"

                                            >The deed done (and the apple despoiled), you hand it back to the mare - who, in this time, had loaded all the other apples into her bags.

                                            >She snatches the apple out of your hand and, keeping VERY uncomfortable eye-contact with you, takes a bite out of it.

                                            >You bare even see what happens next.

                                            >There's a pair of furious, outraged squeaks.

                                            >There's a flurry of movement, the surprised shouts of ponies, and then the mare who just bought your apples is now quickly and unexpectedly relocated about fifteen feet to the left of where she once was.

                                            >>"How DARE you!"

                                            >Sitting atop the chest of the lusty mare is one of those bat-pony stalkers you've got.

                                            >If only because there was just room for one bat-pony on that mare's chest, the other bat-pony is standing to the side.

                                            >Her wings are spread, all her fur is standing on end, and she has a wide-hoofed stance as though ready to pounce.

                                            >Her pupils are slitted, her ears are plastered back onto her head, and her fangs are bared.

                                            >It's actually pretty intimidating.

                                            >You're not all that upset that this creepy fucking mare got knocked down, but you sorta need this job.

                                            >And the last thing you need right now is to get fired because your stalkers are chasing off business.

                                            "Hey!  Cut it out, you two!"

                                            >The pair of bat-ponies turn their heads to look at you in unison, eyes wide and expressions of surprise.

                                            >>"P-Progenitor?"

                                            >Propo-what-er?

                                            "Excuse me?"

                                            >The bat pony gets off of the dazed unicorn and stumbles back into the crowd.

                                            >>>"F-Forgive us, Nightfather!"

                                            >Without another word, the two bat-ponies spread their leathery wings and take flight.

                                            >To your surprise, about five more from the marketplace join them.

                                            >A few came from the crowd, and two take flight from some adjacent roof tops.

                                            >Just how many of these things were watching you?

                                            >Apple Bloom pokes her head up and watches them go with awe on her face.

                                            >"Say, 'Nawn," she whispers, "Y'think me an' the fillies could get our cutie marks learning to fly on bat wings?"

                                            >You gently boop the little filly on the snoot, and she sneezes.

                                            "No."

                                            >Apple Bloom 'harumphs' and pouts, crossing her forelegs adorably.

                                            >"Yer no fun."

                                            "Yeah, well..."

                                            >...you think things are going to get a lot less fun for you in the near future.