Baby-crazy Anon by Satyrfag


                                            Post number/s: 38058533; 38086003; 38086018;

                                            Original author: Satyrfag


                                            "You can stay in exchange for doing some basic chores, slaking my lusts, and not doing anything that'll cause problems for me. That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

                                            >"You're awful. I'm all alone in the world and you're using it to extort sex from me?"

                                            "Maybe, but I'm lonely, desperate, and pent-up. Besides, it won't be too bad. I may be a social cripple, but I'm not into cruelty or abusing my servants. Or my lovers, for that matter."

                                            >You pause a moment.

                                            "I can promise you that the slaking of lusts won't be entirely one-way. I miss eating pussy."

                                            >You think you see a blush under the coating of dirt on Glimmer's face.

                                            "Are you in or out? If you're going to say no, hurry up and do it."

                                            >Glimmer looks at you. Then at the forest by your shack, which is growing steadily more foreboding as dusk's gloaming deepens towards night. Then back to you.

                                            >"Ugh. Fine."

                                            "First things first. Let's both get cleaned up."

                                            >You sling her over your shoulder and she lets out a squeak of surprise.

                                            >Little pony, you're the size of a labrador retriever. Not hard to carry a short distance.

                                            >Glimmer blushes and stammers more than you'd expect while you're showering together.

                                            >Completely disowned by everypony, yet she's never seen a dick before.

                                            >She was too shy to let you scrub around her pussy, too. Insisted on doing it herself.

                                            >Weird little horse.

                                            >Hope she's ready to be a mom, because you're not giving her a choice in the matter.

                                            >Your biological clock's ticking worse than a forty-year-old roastie's.

                                            >Ahh, it's great to be male.

                                            >Okay, you can't think that with a straight face.

                                            >At least your baby batter doesn't have nearly as short of an expiration date as that hypothetical roastie's egg carton.

                                            >Still, you're looking forward to being a dad.

                                            "Hey, Glim-Glam. You want a beer or some mead to ease your nerves?"

                                            >You'll warn her about her impending impregnation once she's loosened up, give her one final chance to back out once her inhibitions are down.

                                            >If she sticks around after that, she's all yours as far as your conscience is concerned.

                                            >"I can't stand beer and I don't know what mead is. Do you have any cider?"

                                            "Ran out yesterday. Mead's honey wine. I make it myself. It's as close to cider as you're going to get tonight."

                                            >"All right. Mead, then."

                                            >You pass her a bottle. She takes a sip, and her eyes widen. Then she drains a quarter of the bottle in one long swig.

                                            >"That's REALLY good."

                                            "Thanks. Using Equestrian ingredients definitely makes it better, though. Here. Sit on the couch. Drink with me. We'll make small talk for a bit. I'm in no hurry to get to the sex, or I wouldn't have bothered getting dressed again.

                                            >Well, that's a lie, but you want her mentally loosened up before you drop the bomb.

                                            >You relax, enjoying the fire's heat as it dries your damp torso. You couldn't be arsed to put on more than a pair of pajama bottoms after showering, and you catch Glim sneaking the occasional look at your pecs and muscular arms as you talk.

                                            >You'd be more flattered by that if she had more of a choice in the matter. Or if you didn't have a bunch of loose skin hiding your abs.

                                            >Still, the chitchat definitely seems to be helping her relax.

                                            >Glim likes kites and had a goth phase as a teenager, so you promise to play her your heavy metal and goth rock collection.

                                            >You like reading, lifting weights, carpentry, and drinking.

                                            >Glimmer wants to know if she can read books from your personal library, and the answer to that is "of course."

                                            >You each finish your first bottle and start on another before you decide it's time to drop the bomb.

                                            "So I feel like I have to warn you -- if you take me up on this deal, you're going to end up pregnant."

                                            >Glimmer laughs. She has a nice laugh. "You must be drunker than I am. You're an ape. I'm a pony. We can't have foals.

                                            "You'd think so, wouldn't you? But the doctors and wizards over at Ponyville General did a fairly thorough physical analysis when my house got chucked out of my own dimension and plopped down on the edge of the forest here. Pony stallions have very poor sperm quality compared to humans. Combine that with mares' natural magic field,, which can already produce things like hippogryphs, and, well..."

                                            >You shrug.

                                            "Apparently, all it takes is twice."

                                            >Glimmer blinks slowly, her eyes huge.

                                            "Once for your magic field to adapt, and then the second time's a guaranteed pregnancy. And as soon as the kid's weaned, the next round of sex is another guaranteed pregnancy. Rinse and repeat until you're out of eggs, get your tubes tied, or hit whatever horses have instead of menopause. That's what scared off all the mares that I was interested in. None of them wanted to be a foal factory."

                                            >You kill your remaining half-bottle of mead in a single long chug.

                                            "Thus am I served for liking clever women. Mares. Whatever. Some things don't change between dimensions, apparently. Gods forbid I should bust my ass to fix most of my flaws so I could be a decent father, no, it's 'hurr durr, muh career.' Tchah!"

                                            >You hurl the empty bottle into the fireplace, sending a cloud of sparks up the chimney and out onto the hearth.

                                            >Starlight yelps and shrinks back onto her side of the couch.

                                            >You sigh.

                                            "The temper is one flaw I haven't fixed, but I'm not going to beat you or anything if you piss me off. I'll go lift weights, or split firewood, or go running, or something."

                                            >"Why?"

                                            "Why what?"

                                            >"Why warn me? I was willing to trade sex for shelter. Why not just pump me full of foals and tell me "tough horseapples" when I found out I was pregnant?"

                                            "I'm not a good person, Glimmy, but I still have some moral standards. Deliberately knocking you up without warning you would make me as bad as the average nigger."

                                            >"What's a nigger?"

                                            >Oh, blessed Equestria, that its inhabitants can ask that question!

                                            "A vice-filled beast that the gods wrought in semi-human figure."

                                            >You never could pass up an opportunity to quote that bit of Lovecraft.

                                            "But seriously, it's a colloquial phrase for someone who acts like a violent, drug-addicted, thieving, cheating, deceitful brute. Originally, it was used strictly to refer to blacks, but I generally use it for anyone who lives down to that description. Blacks just have a higher proportion of niggers among them than other races."

                                            >"Okay, weird monkey racial conflict aside, why'd you want me to get tipsy, then? Shouldn't that make me more likely to agree without thinking about it?"

                                            "You'd think, but you were so utterly desperate for a place to stay earlier. I figured that if you were sober, you'd agree no matter what out of fear. I'm trying to get an honest answer out of you, after all. 'In wine is truth,' and all that."

                                            >Starlight blinks. "Your species has some bucking issues, you know that?"

                                            "Yeah, I know. Anyway, it's decision time. Yes or no? If you say no, I'm not completely heartless. I'll let you stay for a few days. Any longer than that, though, and you're going to have to give me a baby. Or two. Or ten."

                                            >"TEN?!" Glimmer's mane frizzes and her eyes bulge.

                                            "Okay, that was a joke. I want somewhere between four and seven, though. I'm not entirely sure yet."

                                            >She relaxes a little.

                                            "That said, I wasn't joking when I said it's decision time."

                                            >Glimmer's silent for a long time. Occasionally, her face scrunches while she thinks. You don't rush her. This is too important for that.

                                            >"Buck it. You can't be that bad to live with, not if you're making this much of an effort to warn me. Just be gentle, okay? I'm a virgin."

                                            >You grin like an idiot.

                                            "Mm. I'll try, but I might get carried away on the second round. We can definitely start gently, though. Come here. We'll start off with a massage."


                                            Unfinished. This paste will be removed if Satyrfag ( https://ponepaste.org/user/Satyrfag ) makes his own.