[REQUEST] Anonymous - Serious Silly Sexy Spoilers


                                            Originally uploaded to Pastebin: September 25th, 2013

                                            ---


                                            Someone asked for a Sunset Shimmmer rapefic.


                                            I gave them the sunset but not the shimmer. They weren't satisfied. Like an ever-hungering beast from forgotten times.

                                            Here's what transpired afterwards:


                                            Me:        "It had sunsets and it had rape. WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME."


                                            Anonymous: "I think it was the wrong type of >rape"


                                            Me:        "Well what kind of rape would you rather have?

                                            Serious rape?

                                            Silly rape?

                                            Sexy rape?

                                            Spoiler rape?"


                                            Anonymous: "All of the above."


                                            YOU THOUGHT I COULDN'T DO IT, HUH? WELL JOKES ON YOU, NERDMASTER. I DID IT.

                                            GOD HELP ME I DID IT.


                                            ---


                                            >"Ahnon? Ya nearly finished with that load?"

                                            >With a grunt, you haul the bucket of apples into the cart and pat Big Mac on the back.

                                            >He nods and sets off towards the apple cellar with the last bit of cargo for the day.

                                            >Wipe your brow and look out across the orchard.

                                            >You and Mac managed to clear the entire western field in a single day. Not bad given that you had a hangover the entire time. Though you wish the work hadn't dragged on into the evening.

                                            >The thought of it triggers another throb in your head, causing you to wince.

                                            >It was still a great party though, and you don't regret it.

                                            >Pinkie was a master of her craft.

                                            >You head towards the barn to finish up work and check on the equipment like you normally do.

                                            >Pushing open the barn door, you're met with a foreboding darkness.

                                            >Not that you're worried, of course. You've been working on the farm for months now, and are used to dark places like the barn at night and the apple cellar.

                                            >Banishing any thoughts of monsters lurking in the blackness, you close the barn door behind you and head towards where you know a lamp lies.

                                            >Feeling around, your hand touches cold metal, and with a quick movement of the fingers, a gentle orange glow illuminates the barn, casting abstract shadows around the various objects that inhabit it.

                                            >With a nod, you begin searching around for any problems, the lamp providing ample light for you to pick out any anomalies.

                                            >Narrowing your eyes, you crouch down next to a plough.

                                            >A few bolts are sticking out further than they should be.

                                            >Poke one with a finger.

                                            >It's loose.

                                            >Why is it loose? These bolts should be fastened tight, and shouldn't just pop out like that.

                                            >You inspect the bolt for a second longer, wondering what could have done it.

                                            >"Somethin' wrong, partner?"

                                            >The sudden noise causes you to jump.

                                            >Looking around, you see Big Mac step out of one of the shadows, a grin on his face.

                                            "Hey..."

                                            >Catch your breath and manage a chuckle

                                            "Scared me there, man. What were you doing back there?"

                                            >"Jus' watchin' you work, that's all."

                                            >...What?

                                            >You turn your head slightly, narrowing your eyes again.

                                            "I'm sorry?"

                                            >"Oh, nothin'. What's wrong with the plough?"

                                            >Forgetting his unusual words, you crouch down again and motion to the undone bolts.

                                            "These are loose. They'll cause trouble if they're left like that."

                                            >"So why not fix 'em?"

                                            "I was going to. Wouldn't happen to have a--"

                                            >A spanner lands before you.

                                            >"There ya go, Ahnon."

                                            >A sense of unease is taking hold within you.

                                            >Picking up the spanner with caution, you start to screw the bolts back into the plough, making sure to tighten them with a grunt.

                                            >Once you're finished, you feel a presence stood right behind you.

                                            >"Ah like watchin' ya work with ya' hands, Ahnon."

                                            >He's beginning to scare you a little bit.

                                            "Is there something you want, Mac?"

                                            >For a moment there's no response.

                                            >Then a large, hard object collides with the back of your head.

                                            >Combined with the already dull pain of your hangover, you let out a strained cry and crumple to the floor, instinctively curling up into a ball.

                                            >Clutch your head with both hands and slam your eyes shut as tears start to stream down your face.

                                            >The pain is unbearable.

                                            >Blood rushes in your ears and you can see spots, even with your eyes closed.

                                            >"Ya know, when ya first started work here, ah didn't think much of it."

                                            >A hoof places itself on your shoulder where you're curled up.

                                            >"Jus' over the las' coupla weeks ah've noticed you workin'. Strong arms, quick fingers. Nice body."

                                            >His words aren't making any sense to you. Mac was always quiet and never really bothered you. Is this even Mac talking?

                                            "I-I don't understand, what do you--"

                                            >He interrupts you, continuing in his sinister speech.

                                            >"Applejack always said you were cute, but ah didn't see it personally. Ah started to see the strong side o' ya. Ah'm attracted to power in a way."

                                            >You try to answer him, but can't find the words to do so, so you resign to lying there, listening to him.

                                            >"So then ah thought, we're both big fellas. Ah'm sure you understand where ah'm goin' with this."

                                            "You want to... Fight me?"

                                            >The stallion chuckles darkly.

                                            >"Naw, Ahnon. I wan' a lil' more than that. But there will be some fightin' involved if ah don't get what ah want."

                                            >It clicks and your heart rate almost doubles.

                                            >Fear takes hold and you place your hands on the ground, disregarding the pain.

                                            >You have to get out. Away from Mac.

                                            >As you try to push yourself up, a hoof presses you back down.

                                            >You're already tired, and the blow to the head has made you dizzy.

                                            >"Now now, Ahnon. Jus' take it easy."

                                            >Another sadistic laugh escapes him.

                                            >"Ah knew that makin' ya work all day would wear ya'out."

                                            >He's right. You barely have to the energy to run, let alone fight the only stallion in Ponyville capable of taking you on in a fair fight.

                                            >Despite this, you kick out in desperation, the sole of your foot hitting Mac in the leg.

                                            >He grunts, but still laughs.

                                            >"Still got a bit left in ya? Good, that'll mek this a whole lot more enjoyable."

                                            >The stallion begins tearing away at your clothes with his teeth.

                                            >Your shirt is the first to go, huge chunks of carefully sewn fabric ripped apart by the pony on top of you.

                                            >Cool air meets your skin, and the sensation causes you to squirm even harder.

                                            >Mac seems to like this even more, and you hear a few mirthful noises coming from him.

                                            >"That's right. Keep fightin'. Let's see a bit a' kick."

                                            >Flailing your arms, you catch his face, making him grunt again.

                                            >Spurred on by this, you smack him a few more times.

                                            >The fact that your pathetic blows only amuse the stallion and make him redouble his efforts to rip your clothes off fills you with despair.

                                            >A few seconds later, your pants come off, followed by your boxers. Leaving you bare.

                                            >You pull your legs in and wrap your arms around yourself, shuddering.

                                            >Cold, and vulnerable. Made only worse by the fact that a pony you considered a friend is abusing the trust between you reinforces the inevitability of what's about to happen.

                                            >"My my, would'ya look at that."

                                            >Mac whistles.

                                            >"Ya sure got a nice body, Ahnon. Ah like that."

                                            >You don't respond.

                                            >"Ah think it's time ah took what's mine though. Try an' enjoy it."

                                            >He forces you onto your stomach, and you make no attempt to stop him. You're all out of fight.

                                            >A large warm object can be felt near your backside, the contrast between it and the icy floor and air making you gasp.

                                            >"Yeah, you're gonna enjoy this. Ah can tell."

                                            >He pushes himself between your cheeks, poking your entrance.

                                            >A whimper is all you can manage to let out.

                                            >Big Mac grunts.

                                            >"Come on, Ahnon. Let me in, or ah'll just make my own entrance."

                                            >You don't move, you don't do anything. You just want it to end.

                                            >"Fine, ah guess we're doin' this the hard way."

                                            >A hoof presses your face down into the floor as a searing pain rips right through your body, stemming from the area where Mac just tore his way into you.

                                            >Tears flow anew and your mouth opens, a strangled scream desperately trying to get out.

                                            >Mac forces himself further into you, grunting and pushing you harder against the floor as he uses his weight to pin you down.

                                            >You feel a hot sensation around your entrance and Mac's dick, indicating that you're now bleeding.

                                            >The stallion gets as far in as he can go, and leans down to whisper in your ear.

                                            >"Isn't that better? Ah think so. Ah'm surprised you can fit all of me in. Most mares have trouble."

                                            >He nibbles on your ear.

                                            >"But you're stong. Like me. Ya can handle it."

                                            >He slowly pulls back, and you brace yourself for what's coming.

                                            >"And ah know."

                                            >His member is almost all the way out

                                            >"That ya gonna."

                                            >He holds for a second.

                                            >"Love it."

                                            >Pain lances through you once more, and it doesn't let up.

                                            >Mac thrusts away as hard as he can, his precum acting as a last minute lubricant.

                                            >With his heavy, muscular body weighing you down, all you can do is beg for it to be over.

                                            >All you feel is the cold floor, the burning sensation in your lower body, and Big Mac's laboured breaths in your ear.

                                            >Thankfully, stallions don't last too long, and with a final effort, Mac pushes himself into you as far as he can go, crushes you against the floor and empties himself inside you. A moan hitting your ear.

                                            >He pants, enjoying his 'victory' over you.

                                            >You feel him slowly withdraw himself from you, leaving behind his seed and your blood, which are both now dripping from your tortured entrance.

                                            >The stallion stands up, and you can feel his eyes on you.

                                            >"This was real nice, Ahnon. Ah'll see ya tomorrow, same time for work. We need ta work away on the southern fields before winter comes."

                                            >With that, he simply exits the barn, shutting the door behind him.

                                            >Inside he leaves a broken, pathetic man.

                                            >You pull up your legs and cry to yourself, the cold surface of the barn floor the only thing you can feel anymore.


                                            >Six weeks later.


                                            >The door to a psychiatrist's office is unceremoniously kicked off it's hinges.

                                            >You stroll out, a huge grin plastered on your face.

                                            >Put your hands on your hips and look out across Ponyville.

                                            "Boo yah! Sanity at last."

                                            >"O-ouch..."

                                            >Looking to your left, you see a cleaning pony on the floor, a large wooden door atop her.

                                            "You alright?"

                                            >"I-I can't feel my organs..."

                                            "Ahh you'll be fine. If you need help, call me."

                                            >"Call... What?"

                                            >You're already gone, strutting down the road and singing "Stayin' Alive" to yourself.

                                            >The sun is shining, the air is warm, you just finished your last session with your psychiatrist.

                                            >You are officially over the fact that Big Mac raped you.

                                            >Looking back, it was just a simple misunderstanding.

                                            >Your eye twitches.

                                            >For now, though. You need something to eat. You've been eating nothing but newspapers and writing ink for the last six weeks.

                                            >Plays havoc on a man's digestive system.

                                            >The doctors said you wouldn't live, but you showed them!

                                            >And what better place to fill yourself with things that are actually edible than Sugarcube Corner?

                                            >The large, delicious looking building comes into view, and you decide to jog the rest of the way.

                                            >Why not, right? Life is worth living. And if that means you're going to jog into a bakery and kiss the mare behind the counter then by god that's what you're going to do.

                                            >Enter the bakery.

                                            >Look at the pony behind the counter.

                                            >It's Mister Cake.

                                            >The kissing can wait.

                                            >He sees you enter and gives you a sympathetic smile.

                                            >"Anon! It's been a while. Are you... Okay now?"

                                            "Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?"

                                            >He seems taken aback.

                                            >"W-well... Nothing. What can I get for you?"

                                            "Got any newspaper?"

                                            >"I'm not supposed to feed your habit."

                                            "Not even a bit of newspaper? Come on, man. I'll settle for the sports section if I have to."

                                            >He sighs and places a bag of doughnuts on the counter.

                                            >"They're on the house for you, Anon. Enjoy!"

                                            "Thanks, Mister Cake. You're the best."

                                            >"Just take it easy, Anon."

                                            >You turn to leave

                                            >The pull a 900° spin and look back at the counter.

                                            "You seen Pinkie around anywhere?"

                                            >He smiles.

                                            >"You want to see her? She's just up in her room if you need her, Anon. She's on break. I'm sure she'll be happy to see you after you've been shut away for so long."

                                            "Why's that? I ain't been on vacation, son."

                                            >Shake your head.

                                            >Head for the stairs.

                                            "Oh, I found these by the way. You can have 'em."

                                            >Hand him the bag of doughnuts.

                                            >The pony covers his face with a hoof and lets out a resigned groan.

                                            >Walk up the stairs and towards Pinkie's room.

                                            >An unmistakable sound reaches your ears.

                                            >Moaning.

                                            >Clearly, Pinkie Pie must be partaking in yet another musical number about happiness and friendship!

                                            >Burst through the door.

                                            "And IIIIII love to maaaake you smile smil-- Oh shit you were sleeping."

                                            >Pinkie yelps and jumps out of bed, her covers following her out of it, resulting in her landing on the floor in a heap.

                                            >"A-Anon! Knock before entering! That's totally not a nice thing to do! I could have been sleeping!"

                                            >Raise an eyebrow.

                                            >Sniff the air.

                                            "What smells like frosting?"

                                            >The pink horse blushes deeply and laughs nervously.

                                            >"Uhh... Frosting?"

                                            >Shrug.

                                            >Good enough for you.

                                            "So what's up?"

                                            >"Umm. W-well I was just about to go and do fun things! Wanna help?"

                                            "Nah. I'm not supposed to do fun things after I crashed some kid's birthday party."

                                            >"...That was your party. Your 'get well soon' party."

                                            "For real? Damn. I knew the guy in the picture frame looked familiar."

                                            >Pinkie blinks a few times and forces a smile.

                                            >"I guess..."

                                            "Wanna go do something stupid instead? I feel like throwing rocks at ducks."

                                            >"That's a bit mean, Anon..."

                                            >At that moment, a small flying pig materialises before your very eyes, wearing a top hat and clutching a trumpet.

                                            >"Anon! This is pig."

                                            "Fo real?"

                                            >"Yes! Look at Pinkie Pie."

                                            >You look at Pinkie Pie.

                                            >She's wearing a worried expression.

                                            "Sorry, Pinks. Just talking to the pig."

                                            >She nods slowly.

                                            >"Oh... Okay?"

                                            >Look back to the pig and motion for it to continue.

                                            >"She looks rather unhappy, doesn't she!"

                                            "Well I did get raped."

                                            >"Raped Shmaped. That's what quitters and fat women say. You need to make her happy!"

                                            "How am I supposed to do that?"

                                            >"You need to unscrew her head and press the 'FUN' button!"

                                            "Won't that kill her?"

                                            >Pinkie takes a few steps back. Trepidation in her eyes.

                                            >"Might do, might not. What matters is now, Anon. Stop living in the past and live in the present. Grasp life by the horns. Master your shaft!"

                                            "I think I finally see now! Thanks, flying talking pig! But... One more question."

                                            >"Go ahead, kiddo, but make it quick. I have trumpet practice to get to."

                                            "What are you and where did you come from?"

                                            >"I'm a visual hallucination brought into existence by your shattered psyche which happened after the rape! Isn't that cool?!"

                                            "Hey yeah that is pretty cool!"

                                            >"Now pull off that pony's head."

                                            "Yes, sir!"

                                            >He blows his trumpet and explodes into candy.

                                            >You crack your knuckles and look down at Pinkie, who looks terrified.

                                            "Pinkie, this is gonna hurt me way more than it's gonna hurt you."

                                            >Jump on her.

                                            >"AAahh! Anon what are you doing?!"

                                            "I have to activate your fun button!"

                                            >"M-my what? Anon I'm not that kind of mare anymore!"

                                            "No, you idiot! The button inside your head or something!"

                                            >"What?!"

                                            >You grasp her head in both hands and unscrew it as hard as you can.

                                            >A sickening crack happens in response to the movement.

                                            >...

                                            >"What was -that- for?!"

                                            "Sorry, it had to be done."

                                            >Pinkie's head, now in your hands and separate from her body, glares at you.

                                            >Looking down at her neck, you see a complicated array of lights and switches.

                                            "Huh. You were a robot the whole time."

                                            >Poke a flashing blue node

                                            >The motionless and rigid body shudders and teleports to the other side of the room

                                            "Ooooh, that's how you do it."

                                            >Tuck Pinkie's head under your arm and walk over to the body's new location.

                                            "Lets see here..."

                                            >Teleporting, happy-gas-dispenser--

                                            "That explains a lot."

                                            >--Music player--

                                            >You poke it and "It's not unusual" starts blaring from Pinkie's head

                                            >"It's not unusual to be loved by anyone!"

                                            >"It's not unusual to have fun with anyone!"

                                            >Tapping your foot along to the beat, you inspect the other buttons.

                                            >Finally, you find a large red flashing button with "FUN" written on it.

                                            "Hell yeah. LET'S GET CRAZY!"

                                            >Slam the button.

                                            >Pinkie's head is torn from your grasp by some kind of magnetism, and fastens itself to the body.

                                            >You watch with glee as she shudders and quakes for a while like an oversized vibrator before a noise like a rubber duck finishes her off.

                                            >The pink pony blinks and shakes her head, then fixes her gaze on you.

                                            >Her eyes go half lidded

                                            >"Oh Anon. You always know just how to push my buttons!"

                                            "WOO! FUN!"


                                            >And so the fun begins.

                                            https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k-HdGnzYdFQ


                                            >Pinkie Pie launches another custard pie at Rainbow Dash's house.

                                            >It flies through a window and finds it's target.

                                            >A scream comes from within the cloud mansion.

                                            >"CELESTIA DAMMIT!"

                                            >You and ponk skedaddle out of there before the Prismatic Anger finds you.


                                            >"This is gonna be so fun!"

                                            >You snicker as you watch Mayor Mare walk down the road.

                                            >With a yelp, a net hidden by leaves catches her, imprisoning her and leaving her dangling from a tree.

                                            >"Ack! Someone get me down!"

                                            >A tribe of Zebra natives jumps out of another bush and cuts her down.

                                            >Then abducts her, waving their spears and reciting ancient war-chants.

                                            >Watch as they run into the Everfree Forest with the Mayor in their clutches.

                                            "...Was that even part of the plan?"

                                            >"Dunno. Was still funny though!"


                                            >"OH CELESTIA WHY IS THE ORPHANAGE ON FIRE?"

                                            >You and Pinkie laugh like maniacs as you toast marshmallows near the flames as fireponies run into the inferno.

                                            >With a chuckle you push the can of gasoline behind a bush.

                                            >Pinkie swallows the box of matches and burps.


                                            "Three... Two... One... Now!"

                                            >You light the brown paper bag of poop on fire, then pick up Pinkie and run.

                                            >A colossal green dragon emerges from the cave and roars at the intruders.

                                            >It crushes the poop on the way towards you.

                                            "Haha! It stepped on it!"

                                            >"That's hilariou-- IT'S COMING RIGHT FOR US!"

                                            "SHIT SHIT SHIT."

                                            >Pick up the pace as a fireball chases after you, the screams of the dragon echoing through the forest behind you.


                                            >"Is this legal?"

                                            "God knows."

                                            >Hurl a rock at a duck.

                                            >With a pained noise and a quack, it takes flight.

                                            >Then crashes to the ground because of its damaged wing.

                                            "Huh."

                                            >"This wasn't as fun as I thought it would be."

                                            "Yeah. We suck."

                                            >"DUCKY DUCK! WHO HURT YOU? I'LL DESTROY WHOEVER HURT YOU!"

                                            >Fluttershy, with a face like hatred itself, glares at you from across the pond.

                                            "RUN PINKIE, RUN!"


                                            >"It's not unusua--"

                                            >You poke Pinkie.

                                            "Stop that."

                                            >"Sorry."

                                            >She stops singing.

                                            >You lie on Pinkie's bed, staring at the ceiling.

                                            >The day's events have left you tired, but happy.

                                            >Your hand lazily rubs Pinkie's belly, the pony in question is still bubbly and ready to go out for more.

                                            >"Sooo, wanna do more fun stuff?"

                                            "Nah. I'm fine."

                                            >Pinkie cocks her head.

                                            >"I don't understand. You don't want fun?"

                                            "Nope."

                                            >She scrunches up her face.

                                            >"Well that won't do!"

                                            "Huh?"

                                            >"You said you wanted to do fun!"

                                            "Pinkie, we -did- do fun stuff. Now all I wanna do is sleep and have nightmares about events I wish hadn't transpired."

                                            >"That's boring!"

                                            "Pssh, whatever, Pinks. I'm going to sleep."

                                            >You shut your eyes and try to let sleep take over.

                                            >It's not happening.

                                            >Instead, Pinkie Pie starts prodding your belly.

                                            >"Come ooon, Non non. Do something fun."

                                            "No. I'm sleeping."

                                            >She huffs.

                                            >After a while, she starts poking you again.

                                            >Her hoof prods your belly.

                                            >Then starts to move a little bit lower with each prod.

                                            >"Even if you don't want to do anything anymore... I still had a great time today, Anon."

                                            "Good to know."

                                            >Her hoof passes from your gut to your crotch.

                                            >You tense up and your eyes open as she pokes your groin.

                                            "Pinkie?"

                                            >She's looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

                                            >"You don't have to do anything, Anon. But I still wanna have some fun."

                                            "Woah, hey."

                                            >Sit up, your back resting against the headrest

                                            "I'm not that into you, Pinks."

                                            >"Oh don't worry."

                                            >She beams at you.

                                            >"You'll be in me pretty soon."

                                            >Try to jump off her bed.

                                            >She intercepts you and pushes you back.

                                            >Her limbs enlarge themselves, pinning you to the bed, one hoof on the end of each one of your limbs.

                                            >Gaze up into the eyes of the pink pony

                                            "Do you really -have- to do this?"

                                            >"Well, no. But it seems like fun. That's what fun is, right? Doing stuff you don't have to do just so you can enjoy yourself?"

                                            "What happened to respecting your friends and making everyone happy?"

                                            >Pinkie stops.

                                            >"Oh. Shoot."

                                            "See? This is bad, Pinkie. Just don't do this, please! I've already been used once, I don't want it to happen again... Especially not from my best friend!"

                                            >Pinkie Pie sighs.

                                            >"Y-you're right, I'm sorry, Anon... I just don't know what came over me!"

                                            >You smile up at her.

                                            "It's okay, silly. I forgive you."

                                            >Pinkie is silent for a moment.

                                            >Then you see a glint in her eyes.

                                            >"Wait..."

                                            "Hm?"

                                            >"What if..."

                                            >Oh god no.

                                            >"What if it -wasn't- me that did this?"

                                            >Your eyes widen with fear.

                                            >"What if it was someone else!"

                                            >She gasps.

                                            >"Ohmygosh I'm a genius! Wait right there!"

                                            >She retracts her limbs from yours and rushes towards her closet, slamming the door behind her.

                                            >The entire thing starts shaking.

                                            >You take this opportunity to get the hell out of there.

                                            >Jumping off the bed, you make for the stairs.

                                            >Before you reach it though, an extendo-leg wraps itself around your foot like an overbearing slinky.

                                            "Ahh shit."

                                            >With an almighty tug, you are yanked backwards.

                                            >Flip yourself over so you are dragged on your back as the limb, currently protruding from the depths of the closet, hiding the rest of Pinkie, pulls you closer.

                                            >You come to a stop before the large double doors.

                                            >A drum roll sounds, and you hear Pinkie's voice cry out in an over-dramatic fashion.

                                            >"Introducing the funny, amazing and indescribable--"

                                            >The doors burst open, a shower of confetti erupting from it accompanied by the sounds of party blowers.

                                            >"PONKO THE CLOWN!"

                                            "Oh sweet lord."

                                            >Pinkie Pie stands on her hind legs amongst various other costumes, wearing the most ridiculous outfit you've ever seen.

                                            >Polkadot pants, a fluffy vest, white face-paint and a big red nose, topped off with a multicoloured wig adorn the pony formerly known as Pinkie Pie.

                                            >"Ponko is looking for a volunteer! Can she get a volunteer up here please!"

                                            >She scans the room, then sees you, still looking bewildered with her hoof wrapped around your foot.

                                            >"You, little filly! Would you like to assist Ponko in a demonstration?"

                                            "I'd like to get the hell out of here, actually. My pillow probably misses being tear-soaked."

                                            >"Great! Come on up!"

                                            >By 'come on up' she means lie there and accept what's about to happen, as the pony jumps on you, and promptly shreds your clothes, then pins you to the floor as she did before on the bed.

                                            >You look down at your now naked body and back up at the robot-clown-pony.

                                            "Why."

                                            >"For kicks!"

                                            >Can't argue with that logic, really.

                                            >Pinkie reaches inside her sleeve and pulls out the end of a dildo.

                                            >"Ooh! What's this! Hey, little filly! Pull on this!"

                                            "No."

                                            >"Awesome!"

                                            >You do a double take as you realise that you're already pulling on the end.

                                            >What the fuck.

                                            >The dildo seems to be never ending.

                                            >No matter how much you pull on it, it never ends.

                                            >Ponko is laughing as hard as she can at the spectacle

                                            >"Oh boy! You should see the look on your face!"

                                            >The end of the dildo falls out of her sleeve.

                                            >It's the length of the fucking room.

                                            >"That's a doozy of a dildo! Hey! I wonder where we can hide this?"

                                            >She taps her chin and hums to herself.

                                            >You go white with fear and your try to make yourself seem smaller.

                                            >"Oh! I know!"

                                            >She points at your butt.

                                            >"We can hide it in there!"

                                            "It won't fit, Pinkie. IT WON'T FUCKING FIT!"

                                            >"Who's Pinkie? I'm Ponko! Heeeeeeere we go!"

                                            "NO NO NO NO NO--"


                                            >She ends up fitting the entire thing inside you, laughing while she does it.

                                            >Fucking Pinkie Pie.


                                            >Another six weeks later.


                                            "Thanks for the help again, Miss Hind Sight."

                                            >"Not at all, Anonymous. I'm always here if you need me."

                                            >Push open the door to the psychiatrist's office and step out into the sun.

                                            >Sigh and look at the sights of Ponyville.

                                            >These sessions are taking their toll on your savings, and there's no way in hell you're going back to the farm.

                                            >You need a job, and it needs to pay well.

                                            >And you know just where to apply for one...


                                            >"Here? You want to work... Here?"

                                            >Rarity frowns.

                                            >"Anonymous, darling. I appreciate the thought but are you sure you can do the work here? You never really struck me as the 'fashion' type."

                                            "I'm not, to be completely honest. But there's got to be something I can do around here, Rarity! Anything! I really need the money, and even if it's just cleaning the place everyday, I'll do it."

                                            >Rarity chews her lip in thought.

                                            >She sizes you up, her critical eyes dancing all over your body.

                                            >"Hmm... Well, I don't think I can use you for making dresses. You'll just get in the way..."

                                            >Another pause where she appears to go deep into thought.

                                            >"But I suppose that cleaning proposal you just brought up wouldn't go amiss. Yes! That sounds about right. And I could have you deliver my dresses to the clients as well!"

                                            >Things are beginning to look up.

                                            >"Yes, Anonymous. I shall take you up on your offer. I shall expect you to be here no later than eight o' clock tomorrow, is that understood?"

                                            "Yes, Ma'am!"

                                            >You can feel yourself grinning.

                                            >Rarity looks happy with herself as well.

                                            "Thanks a lot, Rarity. Really. It means a lot to me."

                                            >She waves her hoof dismissively at you.

                                            >"Oh psssh. It's the least I could do. You've been through a lot and I'd be more than happy to help you. What are friends for?"

                                            >She steps closer and smiles up at you.

                                            >"They don't call me generosity for nothing!"

                                            >You reach down and rub behind her ear.

                                            >"What ar-- O-oh, my..."

                                            >She coos at your actions.

                                            >"That feels rather lovely, Anonymous... I wouldn't mind more of those."

                                            >She winks, then turns tail.

                                            >"I shall have to get back to work, however. Remember! Tomorrow at eight! If you're late, I won't be happy!"


                                            >As requested, you turn up on the dot the next morning, dressed as well as you can be and ready to work.

                                            >Enter the shop and call out as you shut the door behind you.

                                            "Rarity? I'm here! Where are you?"

                                            >A voice replies you from another room.

                                            >"Oh, just a moment, Anonymous! I just have to take care of something 'awkward'."

                                            >"I'm not awkward, Rarity..."

                                            >"Shush, you're already late for school as it is!... There, that's your lunch. Now go! I have to tend to our new employee."

                                            >A small white blur rushes past your legs with a "Hi, Anon!" before running out the door and towards the local school.

                                            >Rarity appears a doorway, smiling.

                                            >"Hello! Right on time, I see! That's good. Are you ready to begin?"

                                            "Yup. What needs doing first?"

                                            >Rarity looks around the room.

                                            >"Think you could clean up a bit? There's a broom in the back."

                                            "Sure thing, boss."

                                            >She giggles.

                                            >"No need to call me that, dear. I'm just Rarity."

                                            >You smile and walk past her to the back so that you can collect the broom.

                                            >When you return, Rarity is humming away and sewing something together, her eyes darting across the intricate patterns she's weaving.

                                            >Flexing your arms, you set to work sweeping up.

                                            >For a while, you both work apart from each other. Rarity humming and fixing up a dress, you going around the room bringing dust and other abandoned bits of fabric into the middle of the room.

                                            >After some time, Rarity breaks the silence.

                                            >"So, are your clothes alright?"

                                            >You stumble a bit over the broom, the seamstress' voice snapping you out of your work-induced trance.

                                            "Oh, uhh, yes, they are. They're wonderful, Rarity."

                                            >She lets out a bemused noise.

                                            >"Lovely to hear. It was quite the challenge to design something for you. I've designed clothes for a minotaur in the past, but never a human."

                                            "Really? They have minotaurs here?"

                                            >"Oh yes, dear. They live out towards the west coast... Anyway, I enjoyed making your outfits. It's a shame they keep getting torn to shreds."

                                            >You grip the broom a bit harder.

                                            >Rarity notices

                                            >"Ah, my apologies, Anonymous. Really. That was rude of me..."

                                            >Looking up, you see a face fraught with worry gazing at you from across the room.

                                            >"Are you alright, dear? Do you need a drink?"

                                            "No no, I'm fine. Honest. It's just kinda hard to get back into the swing of things after two rapes and a dozen psychiatrist sessions."

                                            >Rarity puts down her materials and moves over to you, touching your leg with a hoof.

                                            >"If you ever need anything, I'm here for you, darling."

                                            >She offers you a smile.

                                            >"All you need to do is ask, and I'll be there."

                                            >Your mood brightens up a bit at that, and you respond by rubbing her ear like you did before.

                                            >"Oh! A-again, I see."

                                            >Chuckle at her peculiar reaction.

                                            "You like these ear rubs, don't you?"

                                            >"Well, I won't deny that it beats anything the spa twins can do... Not that I wish to slander them in any way. But you do have the advantage of digits."

                                            >When you stop rubbing, Rarity seems disappointed, but quickly recovers and trots back over to her work.

                                            >She doesn't say a word to you after that, and you go about your day sweeping up and shifting things when she asks you to.


                                            >"Careful, Anonymous!"

                                            >You teeter, the box resting on your hands threatening to tumble off the top shelf.

                                            "I got it, I got it."

                                            >With a shove, you push the heavy box back towards the wall.

                                            >Catch your breath and hop down from the step ladder, dusting your hands.

                                            >Rarity is quick to dab your brow with a handkerchief.

                                            >"You're all sweaty now! That won't do at all!"

                                            >Wave her away with a hand, a grin plastered on your face.

                                            >She's persistent however, and continues to harass you with the flying cloth until your brow is nice and dry.

                                            >"There we are!"

                                            "Thaaaanks Raaarityyy..."

                                            >"Ah ah ah. There'll be no insincere thanks under this roof!"

                                            >Sigh, still wearing your smile.

                                            >Get down on your knee and bow your head.

                                            "Thank you, oh wise and beautiful Rarity. My brow shall be forever dry."

                                            >She thwacks you on the head with a rolled up newspaper.

                                            >Mock some pain and glance up at her.

                                            >She has a sly smile of her own.

                                            >"Shush. Back to work, you scoundrel. Didn't they teach you how to respect ladies where you're from?"

                                            "Sorry, Ma'am."

                                            >"And don't call me that either! Don't make me chase you with this newspaper, Anonymous! I practically raised Sweetie Belle. I can deal with a mischievous human!"

                                            >Rather than risk that, you grab your broom and head towards the stairs.

                                            >Rarity goes back to sewing, leaving you in privacy while you clean the upper level.

                                            >Bathroom, Sweetie Belle's room, and finally Rarity's room.

                                            >Pushing open the door, you're greeted with a huge four-poster bed and what you can only describe as 'chaos'.

                                            "Ugh. Really?"

                                            >Stroll towards the mess and start to clean it, packing away fabrics and sweeping the floor of any loose threads and bits of fluff.

                                            >As you sweep, you notice a few framed pictures on Rarity's desk.

                                            >Taking a moment to snoop, you inspect it.

                                            >Rarity and Sweetie Belle are cuddling in it, looking exceedingly happy and cute.

                                            "D'aww..."

                                            >Moving your eyes along, you look at the other neat little photographs.

                                            >Pictures of Rarity with Twilight, Spike, Fluttershy, hell, all of her friends.

                                            >And finally, a much newer looking picture in a larger frame.

                                            >Raise an eyebrow and pick it up.

                                            >A large framed photo of you looking pleased with yourself as Rarity kisses your cheek looks back.

                                            >Why the hell would Rarity even keep this around?

                                            >"Enjoying the gallery, I presume?"

                                            >Jump and quickly put the picture back where you found it.

                                            >Spinning around, you see Rarity leant against the door-case, fixing you with a look that says "Gotcha".

                                            "Uhh, sorry. Really. Sorry, Rarity, I didn't mean to--"

                                            >"Oh listen to yourself! Prattling on like a thing possessed."

                                            >She titters and struts over, peering at the photo you were just looking at.

                                            >The unicorn giggles to herself.

                                            >"I remember that night. We were rather 'out of it', weren't we?"

                                            "Haha... Yeah..."

                                            >Truth is, you don't remember. When -was- that?

                                            >"Ohh the amount of alcohol we drank... I didn't think you could out-drink me, but then again, you never fail to amaze. The hangover must have been a lot though, hm?"

                                            >Ah. Now you remember.

                                            >It was the party at Pinkie's place. The night before...

                                            >You gulp.

                                            >"Something wrong, dear?"

                                            "I'm fine, just remembering the hangover."

                                            >She gives out a soft laugh.

                                            >"You really should be more careful. Strange things happen when ponies drink."

                                            >With that, she turns to go, but quickly spins to face you again.

                                            >"Anonymous, might I ask an odd favour?"

                                            "Uhh, sure?"

                                            >"Could you..."

                                            >She clears her throat and blushes slightly.

                                            >"Could you please rub my ear again?"

                                            >You give her a skeptical look.

                                            "You serious?"

                                            >"Yes. Quite serious."

                                            >Shrug.

                                            "Alrighty then."

                                            >Reach down and rub her ear, giving it a good scratch for good measure.

                                            >Rarity's eyes roll up slightly, and her mouth is ajar.

                                            >When you stop, she huffs and hastily leaves.

                                            >The last thing you hear is "That's all for today goodbye please come back tomorrow--"

                                            >Followed by the bathroom door slamming.

                                            >Needless to say, you're confused as hell.

                                            >"Anonymous? I was thinking of a proposal I was hoping you might take me up on."

                                            >You look up from the dress you're carefully packing up that you are about to deliver to someone's door.

                                            >Glance over your shoulder.

                                            "Go on?"

                                            >Get back to folding the dress while you wait for an answer.

                                            >"Well, in celebration of your... Job. I was hoping you might join me for a few drinks."

                                            >A job celebration? The fuck?

                                            >Turn to face her, frowning.

                                            >The little white pony has the most hopeful look you've ever seen.

                                            >You wouldn't want to shoot her down or upset her by telling her no.

                                            "I guess, sure? Why not. Sounds like... Fun!"

                                            >Her face lights up.

                                            >"Wonderful! I shall be waiting for you tonight."

                                            "Here?"

                                            >"Of course!"

                                            "Oh."

                                            >"Something wrong?"

                                            "Oh, no no no, I just thought we would be going out to a bar or cafe or whatever. They usually have pretty affordable drinks."

                                            >Rarity gets a smug look.

                                            >"You clearly haven't discovered my rather ah, 'impressive' selection then, have you?"

                                            >Oh god.

                                            "N-no?"

                                            >She chuckles.

                                            >"You're in for a treat then, darling. Now run along and deliver that dress who I believe... Yes, it was Golden Harvest. She lives in a little shack near Sweet Apple Acres. You can't miss it!"

                                            "Sweet apple shack dress harvest. Got it."

                                            >Rarity snickers as you try to process the rapid-fire directions all at once while you stumble out the door.


                                            >The day went by quickly after that. There wasn't too much for you to do at the boutique, so Rarity sent you home to get ready for the night.

                                            >You don't really see what the big deal was. It's just a job.

                                            >But Rarity seemed pretty hyped up about it, and so far she's been a great boss and friend.

                                            >The sun sets over the mountains, leaving Ponyville to be lit by street lamps and fireflies.

                                            >As the boutique gets closer, a cool breeze picks up, making you shiver.

                                            >Rarity's clothes are great, but they aren't the warmest things in the world.

                                            >Maybe you can ask her to craft something thicker. Preferably with wool.

                                            >Would that be asking too much of her? She's already done so much for you...

                                            >You tackle this question internally while you knock on the front door.

                                            >It's after-hours, so the shop door is locked otherwise.

                                            >You hear a latch open and the front door swings open

                                            >"You came! Marvellous!"

                                            >Rarity looks...

                                            >Well. She looks incredible. As always.

                                            >She's wearing a flawless red silk dress, that seems to follow her every curve perfectly.

                                            >It's befitting for a mare of her calibre.

                                            >She steps back and you cross the threshold into the shop.

                                            >"Come upstairs, dear. We have much to discuss! And drink."

                                            >She giggles and hiccups.

                                            "Are you... Already drunk?"

                                            >"I might have had one or two quick sips while I was waiting for you, dear. Hurry! Up the stairs!"

                                            >She pokes your leg with her horn.

                                            "Ow! Okay, I'm going, I'm going."

                                            >Crossing the hallway towards Rarity's abode, you notice Sweetie Belle's door.

                                            "So is she okay with us drinking tonight?"

                                            >"Who? Oh, Sweetie? She's staying at Applebloom's house tonight. So it's just us and the liquor! Isn't that fabulous?"

                                            >She hiccups again.

                                            >Push open her bedroom door and hold it open for her, pointing your arm inside.

                                            "Ladies first."

                                            >Rarity giggles and prances past you.

                                            >You follow her to her bed and sit down.

                                            >The unicorn casts some magic and pulls the table cloth off a table.

                                            >Or at least, you thought it was a table.

                                            >Your eyes widen as she opens two small locks, and the top swings open, revealing several large bottles of various gins and other assorted alcohols.

                                            "Holy hell, Rarity."

                                            >She hiccups.

                                            >"Myes. Lovely, isn't it?"

                                            >She pulls out the largest bottle with her magic.

                                            >"Come come! Drink!"

                                            >The bottle is forced into your hands.

                                            "Are you... Sure?"

                                            >"Yes! Drink up!"

                                            >She grabs her own bottle and rips off the cork, placing the top to her lips and winking at you before gulping down whatever was inside it.

                                            >Well, you were never one to be outdone, so you grimace and unscrew the cork on your own bottle.

                                            >You consider the possible ramifications of drinking this much booze for a moment, before you notice that Rarity is already half-way through her own bottle.

                                            >Tossing it back, you banish any semblance of responsibility and indulge in what is probably going to be something you'll regret.


                                            >"S-SO THEN! Th-then I said "These are my Ponyville friends!" And then entiiire garden party just goes... "BWUUH?!" It was so FUNNY!"

                                            >Rarity looses herself to the punchline of her story.

                                            >You cry with laughter with her, the copious amounts of whatever it was you've been drinking for the last two hours.

                                            >Rarity slumps against you, burying her face in your chest.

                                            >"Anon you smell really nice... Is this the stuff I got y-you?"

                                            >She hiccups.

                                            "Yeeeaaah. It is. You buy the best shtuff ever, Rariddy."

                                            >She snorts and boops your nose slowly.

                                            >"Rarr-ee-tee."

                                            "Rarr-iddy."

                                            >The pony starts laughing again, and you along with her.

                                            >A few moments pass with you just enjoying each other's warmth.

                                            >Twisting your head, you look around for a clock.

                                            >You find one on top of the mannequin you both dressed up in Rarity's red evening attire..

                                            >12:30

                                            "Ho damn. I gotta... I gotta get home, Raddledee."

                                            >"Rorrrreee... Wait, what?"

                                            "It's late. I gotta get back home and sleep so I can get up tomorrow and go to work."

                                            >The colour drains from your face.

                                            "My boss is gonna kill me..."

                                            >Rarity puffs her cheeks out.

                                            >"I'm your boss!"

                                            >Look at the unicorn, as though she just sprouted a second head.

                                            "Oh my god you are."

                                            >Rarity climbs (with great difficulty) on top of you.

                                            >She wobbles slightly, trying to balance on your chest.

                                            >"Anon. As your boss I say you... You take off your shirt!"

                                            >Shake your head.

                                            "Nu uh."

                                            >"Anon. I am your boss and I say that the shirt comes... Off?"

                                            >She scrunches her face up in concentration.

                                            >"YYyes. Shirt off. That's right."

                                            "NNnnnno."

                                            >"Yes."

                                            "Nnnnnnnnno."

                                            >"Yes, do it now or I'll do this."

                                            >She uses magic to rip your shirt off.

                                            >"So do as I say or I'll do that again!"

                                            "Wooahh... How did you do that?"

                                            >Rarity looks at the shirt in her magic grasp

                                            >"I'm sorry, is this yours? I can repair dresses! I should repair this!"

                                            >She starts getting excited.

                                            >"I can make this into a lovely shirt!"

                                            "You so good at dresses, Robbletee."

                                            >"That's 'Miss Rodbletee' to you."

                                            >She collapses onto your chest, seemingly giving up with the dress making.

                                            >"Aaaaanoooon."

                                            "Whaaaaaaaaat."

                                            >"Can you... Rub my ears?"

                                            "Shhhokay."

                                            >You lazily fondle her ear.

                                            >The pony sighs happily at your touch.

                                            >"Thass real nice... Did I ever tell you that you were cute? I like cute things... You should see my cat!"

                                            "Your cat is a butt..."

                                            >"You... You take that back."

                                            "Nnnno."

                                            >Rarity huffs and uses her magic to tear your pants to shreds.

                                            >More specifically, the legs, leaving you with some kind of fashionable shorts with torn rims.

                                            "You did it again! That thing with my clothes!"

                                            >She blinks in confusion then looks at the tattered remains of her handiwork.

                                            >"D-do you think I'm haunted?"

                                            "Woah. That's spooky, man. Don't say shit like that."

                                            >Rarity moves back so that she's sat between your legs.

                                            >"I bet you're making me do this. You're using your human powers to make me silly!"

                                            "You was always silly."

                                            >"I was nnnot!"

                                            >She hiccups. Angrily.

                                            >"I bet. You're using -THAT- to do magic."

                                            "What?"

                                            >"Your horn!"

                                            >She's pointing at your groin.

                                            "That's not... When did I get naked?"

                                            >Rarity glances at the underwear and the rest of your pants in her magic field, a worried expression on her face.

                                            >"I don't... Know! Is it dangerous to be naked?"

                                            "I dunno. You're naked all the time, aren't you?"

                                            >Rarity gasps.

                                            >"Oh my stars I really am naked all the time!"

                                            >She holds her head in her hooves.

                                            >"Ohh what would mother think of me?"

                                            >You watch the pony teeter on the verge of tears for a second.

                                            >Then, slowly, she removes her hooves, an odd look on her face.

                                            >"Anonymous."

                                            "Yeah?"

                                            >"...Do you like what you see?"

                                            "Whuh?"

                                            >Rarity fixes you with a look far too focused for someone who's completely drunk.

                                            >"When you watch me walk around naked, do you like what you see?"

                                            "I... I guess? Kinda? I don't understand the question... You got anymore booze?"

                                            >You both look at the overturned table, covered in empty bottles.

                                            >"Nnnope. I don't think so."

                                            >Your eyes meet again.

                                            >Rarity is wearing a small smile.

                                            >"I bet you sneak peeks, don't you?"

                                            "Wat."

                                            >"I bet, when I'm not looking, or when I'm turned around, you glance at my smooth white ass."

                                            >She turns around and shows you everything, her tail raised to make sure you can see.

                                            >A hoof gently rubs circles on one of her pristine cheeks.

                                            >"Do you like it, Anon?"

                                            >She slaps her cheek, moaning slightly at the touch.

                                            >"I think... I think I want to show you even more."

                                            >Rarity pushes her flanks closer to your face, standing on your chest with surety.

                                            >Once her marehood is a tiny distance away from your face, she whispers her next order.

                                            >"Anonymous. I want you to lick it."

                                            >The sudden turn of events has somewhat cleared your mind. Not completely. But enough for you to know what's going on.

                                            "I don't think I should do that, Rarity."

                                            >"Anon. DO IT."

                                            >Her voice sounds sharp now, and her marehood is beginning to drip onto your chest.

                                            >"Lick me, Anon. I want to feel your tongue deep inside me. I want you to make me feel wanted, and I want you to do it -NOW-."

                                            >You jump at the emphasis she puts on the last word.

                                            "I think I'd better go hom--"

                                            >A swift kick to the nose forces you back against the headrest.

                                            >"LICK ME."

                                            >Thoughts you didn't want to deal with again resurface.

                                            >You know where this is going. It's happening again.

                                            >How and why this keeps happening to you, you'll never know. But you really can't be bothered getting beaten up and spending half your savings on psychiatry sessions again.

                                            >Sticking your tongue out, you slowly drag it from the bottom of her slit to the top, causing the mare to shiver.

                                            >Rarity speaks in a hushed tone as you delicately drag your tongue up and down her moistening entrance.

                                            >"D-deeper..."

                                            >You comply, pushing past her folds and tasting her inner walls.

                                            >Her juices flood around your tongue.

                                            >Tastes like marshmallows.

                                            >How fitting.

                                            >The unicorn gasps, her walls gently squeezing your tongue while it works.

                                            >You push in deeper, pressing your face into her behind, making sure your tongue can go in all the way.

                                            >Rarity struggles to contain a moan that escapes her throat, the cry echoing around the room.

                                            >She begins fondling your exposed cock in an effort to get it harder between her strangely soft hooves.

                                            >Because you're currently being forced to do something, you're not exactly rock hard. And are doing this out of a desire to get this over with, not to please her.

                                            >Rarity, being completely drunk and unable to form a coherent sentence without great effort, doesn't realise this, and gets to work suckling the tip of your rapidly stiffening member.

                                            >She diligently works it, and your body, though in a drunken stupor of it's own, 'rises' to the challenge.

                                            >Heh. Drunk puns.

                                            >Once hard, the seamstress slowly pushes your dick through her lips, her tongue dancing around and playing with the sensitive head all the while.

                                            >You tense up at the sensation.

                                            >All your experiences thus far with ponies has been somewhat "rough", but Rarity, even when inebriated, composes herself with elegance, and it shows in her work.

                                            >The pony is utterly engrossed in the task at 'hoof', but still pushes her loins into your face, hinting for you to keep going.

                                            >Inspired by the pony's own efforts, you start to push back into her passage with your tongue, working harder to try and keep up with Rarity.

                                            >The unicorn takes your entire length in her mouth, carefully bobbing her head up and down.

                                            >You don't feel any teeth at all, proving the pony's experience at this.

                                            >Her head pulls up, leaving only the head of your cock between her lips.

                                            >Pull back and gasp as you feel her tongue graze your urethra, toying with that most sensitive part of you curiously.

                                            >Before you can say anything, she ducks her head down again and gets back to methodically taking your entire shaft into her mouth over and over.

                                            >The firm, controlled nature of her mouth is starting to chip away at you, and you feel something within you building up.

                                            >Not to be outdone, you return to your own task, burying your face between her cheeks, you search for her clit.

                                            >Dragging your tongue down, you feel a lump, and the pony at the other end of you raises her head to moan softly.

                                            >With your target found, you play and drag your tongue all over it, opting it to wink out at you.

                                            >Rarity's breaths become more shallow at your touch, and your tongue is starting to feel numb at all this work, but you keep going regardless.

                                            >You have a chance to win, and you won't let her beat you.

                                            >Rarity, sensing this, redoubles her efforts to make you cum. Increasing the vigour at which she pistons her head up and down.

                                            >Her tongue works the head while her lips squeeze your shaft, and the warm, wet nature of her mouth is clouding your mind with pleasure.

                                            >Meanwhile, Rarity's walls are contracting tighter, then softening continuously as she tries to struggle with controlling your elusive tongue.

                                            >Just as she thinks she's trapped it, it slides out and dances to another area within her tunnel, taking every opportunity to lick her sensitive spot, which always seems to make the mare falter in her own efforts.

                                            >Locked in a silent battle, save for the odd moan, you both work tirelessly to outdo the other, each refusing to allow their partner the sweet victory they're working for.

                                            >Your mind is awash with the electric sensations Rarity is causing you, and you have no doubt, by the rapid, shallow breaths she's taking and the increased pace she's working your cock, that she must be getting close as well.

                                            >You grip both of her flanks with your hands, pulling her entrance closer to you and squeezing her plump cheeks with your fingers.

                                            >This sets Rarity over the edge, and she releases her loudest moan yet, sending yet more juices out of her marehood and onto your waiting tongue.

                                            >Pressing the assault, you work the clit harder than ever before, determined to make her cum.

                                            >It winks madly, as if trying to avoid the frenzy your tongue is unleashing within her.

                                            >Just as you think you can't hold on any longer, Rarity lets out a cry, her walls clamping down and trapping your tongue as she sprays juices all over your lips and chin.

                                            >Her body convulses violently as she rides out her orgasm.

                                            >Just as she does so, you feel her tongue scrape against your cock one final time and you release your seed into her waiting mouth.

                                            >The mare hungrily gulps it down, not allowing a single precious drop to escape her.

                                            >Pumping the last of your load down her throat, you pull back, the walls of her cunt releasing your poor tongue at last.

                                            >The both of you lie panting for a good while, basking in the afterglow of your intense exchange.

                                            >Rarity turns herself around and cuddles up next to you, kissing you on the cheek before losing herself to the realms of sleep.

                                            >You rest your head against her own, trying to come to terms with what just happened, but inevitably falling into your dreamscape.


                                            >Six weeks later. Again.


                                            >Step out of Carousel Boutique, a smile etched on your face.

                                            >Rarity ended up being just as good of a boss as she is a bedmate, and you forgave her the day after for starting what had happened.

                                            >You couldn't really complain. It was a hell of a lot better than Pinkie or Mac.

                                            >The two of you worked well together and with no qualms after that night of drunken, if not sloppy, debauchery.

                                            >So you still have a well paying job, and always a place to stay if things look bad.

                                            >Content with yourself, you set off towards Twilight's place.

                                            >Rarity had recommended reading up on sewing and dresses.

                                            >"Might as well know the craft you're working around, darling."

                                            >Couldn't really argue there. If you wanted to keep this job, you might as well put your heart into it. Even if it is just cleaning up the shop and eating Rarity out on the kitchen table.

                                            >Subconsciously wipe the corner of your mouth while you walk.

                                            >Arriving at the library, you knock a few times.

                                            >A perky looking unicorn answers it.

                                            >She smiles broadly at seeing you.

                                            >"Anonymous! You came to visit! Great!"

                                            >Following her inside, you watch with amusement as she canters into the kitchen to get you something to drink.

                                            >She shouts from the kitchen whilst she prepares it.

                                            >"So how are things with Rarity? Still going okay? You've made quite the impression on her."

                                            "Not too bad. Can't complain."

                                            >Twilight re-enters the room, a tray in her mouth.

                                            >She places it on a little table in the middle of the room and offers you to sit down on a cushion.

                                            >"Well she's been a lot happier since you started working there. I'm glad."

                                            >Heh.

                                            "Me too. She's... Fun to work with."

                                            >Twilight flashes you a knowing smile.

                                            >Maybe you should have been more discrete.

                                            >"So. What can I help you with?"

                                            "I was looking for some books, actually. Something on sewing? Maybe a few on fashion?"

                                            >Her smile broadens.

                                            >"Of course! I'll just get you some."

                                            >The pony gets up and trots over to a bookshelf, skim reading the titles.

                                            >"Soo... You like reading then, Anon?"

                                            "I won't say I don't enjoy it."

                                            >She nods thoughtfully, sill looking at the titles.

                                            >"You enjoy a good story?"

                                            "I don't think anyone doesn't enjoy one, Twilight."

                                            >The pony smiles, then turns to face you again.

                                            >"Good... Good..."

                                            >She's giving you a very strange look.

                                            "You okay, Twilight?"

                                            >"Oh. I'm perfectly fine, Anonymous. Are you?"

                                            "Yeah?"

                                            >What's wrong with her?

                                            >The unicorn comes back and takes a seat across from you.

                                            >Then uses an aura to levitate a cup of tea to her lips, taking a long sip.

                                            >"Aaaah... I love tea. It refreshes the mind after a long day."

                                            >She's still looking at you with an unblinking stare.

                                            >Your palms are getting sweaty, so you decide to drink some of your own.

                                            >Twilight watches you drink it intently.

                                            >"Like it?"

                                            "Yes?"

                                            >"Good. Because I want to read you a story."

                                            >You let out a slow breath and relax slightly.

                                            "A-alright then. What did you have in mind?"

                                            >"Oh, nothing major. Just a few stories actually."

                                            >She casts a spell, and a fair number of nameless books float over to her.

                                            >"Let's see here..."

                                            >You shuffle backwards. The pony is creeping you out a bit.

                                            >"Say, Anon. Did you know this?"

                                            "Kn-know what?"

                                            >She looks you dead in the eyes, a malevolent grin on her face.

                                            >[spoiler]"Dumbledore Dies."[/spoiler]

                                            >You choke on your tea.

                                            >Hammer your chest as you try to get the liquid out of your throat.

                                            "W-WHAT?!"

                                            >"Oh yes. Dead as a doornail. [spoiler]Snape kills him.[/spoiler]."

                                            >You stare in disbelief at her.

                                            "T-twilight... Why?"

                                            >The pony floats on over another book and opens it, eyes darting over the pages.

                                            >"Oh. Well would you look at that. [spoiler]Shepard has to make three choices at the end to either control, destroy, or become one with the Reapers, either way, he dies[/spoiler]. Isn't that nice?"

                                            >Tears are streaking down your face.

                                            >You're paralysed with feelings of hatred and betrayal.

                                            >Another book. Another evil grin from Twilight.

                                            >"[spoiler]Thorin Oakenshield dies in battle at the end of the Hobbit and makes amends with Bilbo on his deathbed[/spoiler]."

                                            "Twilight. P-please stop. Please..."

                                            >"[spoiler]HARRY POTTER WAS THE FINAL HORCRUX![/spoiler]"

                                            >"[spoiler]GROMMASH HELLSCREAM SACRIFICES HIMSELF TO KILL MANNOROTH AND SAVE THE ORKS![/spoiler]"

                                            >"[spoiler]WHILE KANE IS ABOUT TO STEP THROUGH THE SKRIN PORTAL, IT TURNS OUT THE COMMANDER WAS A ROBOT THE WHOLE TIME AT THE END AFTER HE GETS SHOT.[/spoiler]"

                                            >"[spoiler]AVITUS WAS THE HERETIC WHO GAVE ELIPHAS THE INHERITOR THE INFORMATION HE REQUIRED.[/spoiler]"

                                            >You collapse to the floor, unable to do anything but cry.

                                            >Twilight walks over to your feeble form, looking down on you with disgust.

                                            >She leans down and whispers one last thing in your ear before your body simply gives up.


                                            >Her voice pierces your mind, delivering a message that rocks the foundations of your life.


                                            >You close your eyes and shake your head, saying "No..." over and over again to yourself.


                                            >"[spoiler]Hobo Anon will die.[/spoiler]"


                                            The End.