[FLUTTERRAPE] Snugglerape


                                            Originally uploaded to Pastebin: May 31st, 2014

                                            ---


                                            >So there you were, stood at your window in your office.

                                            >Rain lashed at the windows, distorting the view of the outside world in an ironic parody of reality.

                                            >Or something.

                                            >Take another swig of your drink and try to make heads or tails of just what the fuck is going on.

                                            >A knock on your door alerts you to someone knocking on your door.

                                            >With the grace of a dancer you spin on your heel to face the newcomer, then trip over a bit of carpet and slam your skull against your desk.

                                            >Groaning and trying to find ways to make this whole scene seem edgy and cool, you pull yourself back up.

                                            >Drag yourself to your chair and sit down, waiting for the pony who just entered your office to stop being 3 people.

                                            >She eventually does, and you immediately regret getting out of bed this morning.

                                            >A pretty little thing in a flowing white dress sits across from you.

                                            >Her eyes carry the intelligence and cunning of a university student who had just paid off her student loans and is ready to take on the world.

                                            >...The hell are you thinking about?

                                            >-Fuck- you're drunk.

                                            >Place your flask to your lips and down the contents, hoping to mask the taste of alcohol on your breath with yet more alcohol.

                                            >"So."

                                            >Already you've figured this mare out.

                                            >Cute button like this wouldn't come down this part of town without looking for trou--

                                            >Fuck, you just headbutted the desk.

                                            >Stay awake, Anon.

                                            >"Sh-should I come back later...?"

                                            "Nnno, n-no, stay."

                                            >She fidgets in her chair, the sins of her past coming back to haunt her as your piercing gaze penetrates her very soul, searching for nuggets of the darkness that resides with her... Soul.

                                            >Yeah.

                                            >"You seem, umm... Drunk."

                                            "Tha'ss what I want you to think."

                                            >The mare frowns, her disdain for your actions apparent; no doubt she's plotting to end your life as you--

                                            >Okay, you need to quit being drunk.

                                            >Shake your head and blink a few times, the pony across from you coming into focus again.

                                            "Okay. I think I'm good."

                                            >Nod sluggishly at her.

                                            "Go."

                                            >She composes herself and puts on a sly smile.

                                            >"I hear you're a man who knows how to get a job done."

                                            "I might have done some work in my time."

                                            >Yeah, you remember school.

                                            >Hard times in the 'hood.

                                            >She smiles.

                                            >"Good... Because I have something I want you to do."

                                            "I might be up for it, just name your price."

                                            >"Oh that-- wait, no, what?"

                                            "Now now, I'll pay you sixteen bits."

                                            >Stupid pony. You'd actually pay twenty.

                                            >The mare groans and rubs her face with a hoof, sliding a photo over the desk towards you.

                                            >Thunder rumbles behind you, the accompanying lightning illuminating the room.

                                            >"I hear you can provide services of an... Indecent nature."

                                            >You nod, unsure why you're still awake at this time.

                                            >Check your flask.

                                            >Empty.

                                            >Damn.

                                            >Point to the left of the mare.

                                            "In... There."

                                            >She glances at it.

                                            >"Umm--"

                                            "J-just get the bottle out of there..."

                                            >Frowning, she pulls open the drawer, plucking out a bottle and reading it aloud.

                                            >"Arsenic."

                                            "Fuck, that'll do."

                                            >Swipe it from her and start drinking.

                                            >"...Could you do this for me then?"

                                            "Wazzat?"

                                            >"I need someone taken care of."

                                            "Ooh, you'll want a hitman for that."

                                            >After a moment of silence, she cranes her neck behind her, looking at the still wide open door.

                                            >' Anonymous -- Hitman '

                                            >Turning back to you, she gives you a flat look.

                                            >"And you... -Are- Anonymous, aren't you?"

                                            >Grin at the mention of your name.

                                            "That's my name! Ooh, you want someone taken care of? I charge six bits per job."

                                            >The mare smiles, happy to finally be getting somewhere.

                                            >"Oh my, that's perfect!... What exactly is the procedure like?"

                                            "It's brutal. I take your money and buuyy mooore booze."

                                            >Snort and keep chugging the dangerous chemicals.

                                            >Stomach starting to feel strange.

                                            >The mare gives you a hopeless look.

                                            >Take the time to look at your bottle.

                                            "Hey wait this isn't my remedy..."

                                            >Root around in your drawers for something else.

                                            >Talk about yourself while you look, trying to break the ice.

                                            >By that you mean you mumble and drool all over yourself as the pony in the white dress tries to avoid looking at you.

                                            >Finally find a tiny bright red bottle.

                                            "Hhheh, here it is."

                                            >Pull off the cork and pop the entire bottle in your mouth, crushing the glass and downing everything in one go.

                                            >Amazingly, the glass doesn't cut up your mouth as badly as you thought.

                                            >The liquid works its literal magic and all the alcohol in your body starts surging out of your mouth, forming a strange pony-shaped creation on your desk.

                                            >A mixture of bile, alcohol, stomach acids and broken glass stands proud on the desk.

                                            >It grows legs, a head, a horn and a smile.

                                            >"Hiya! I'm Boozy!"

                                            >Wipe your mouth and nod at her.

                                            "Back in the drawer, Boozy. I have a client."

                                            >"Gee! That sure is swell! Hey can I play with the quills again?"

                                            "Sure, sure."

                                            >Grab her and stuff her in the drawer, slamming it shut and locking it with a key.

                                            >Standing up, you swiftly pull the curtains together then push the office door shut.

                                            >Return to your desk and pop your trench-coat collar, lighting up a cigarette and putting on your fedora.

                                            "Now; Miss...?"

                                            >"Fluttershy."

                                            "Miss Fluttershy. You have balls coming around this part of town. A mare like you might run into trouble."

                                            >Puff on your cigarette and blow out some smoke.

                                            "Unless... It's trouble you're looking for."

                                            >She smiles sweetly and gestures to the photo.

                                            >"I need someone... ah, 'taken care of'."

                                            "Nod slowly."

                                            >She seems confused, but does so.

                                            "...Oh, sorry, that was meant to be internal dialogue."

                                            >Inspect the photo.

                                            >A creepshot of a blue pegasus with a rainbow mane looking confused.

                                            "Nice looking mare. A friend?"

                                            >"You could say so... I've had my eye on her for a while."

                                            >Scratch your stubble.

                                            "But you wouldn't be here if what you were looking for was simple to get."

                                            >Fluttershy leans forward some more.

                                            >"She has been... Difficult."

                                            "How so?"

                                            >"That isn't important. But I need to know if you can deal with her."

                                            >Study the mare more closely.

                                            "She looks tough."

                                            >"She is. That's why I fell for her."

                                            >Raise an eyebrow.

                                            "A lover?"

                                            >"Not exactly."

                                            "...I think I see where this is going."

                                            >Grimace.

                                            >You've seen this before.

                                            >Never ends well.

                                            "Nasty business, I'll admit; but I'll see what I can do."

                                            >"Don't make too much of a mess; I want this to remain as low-key as possible."

                                            "Of course. Now, there is the matter of payme--"

                                            >She dumps a huge sack of bits and gems on the desk.

                                            >Your lips almost drop the cigarette resting between them.

                                            >Eye the sack with caution.

                                            "Awful lot of money there, miss. What's your game?"

                                            >"I simply need to know that you'll get the job done quickly and efficiently."

                                            "And the time-frame?"

                                            >"Tonight. She's at the park doing late-night training. Alone."

                                            >Check the clock on the wall.

                                            "Well then; I'd better not waste any more time."

                                            >Stand up and fasten your coat.

                                            "As you can probably guess, I must have your word that you'll keep your end of the bargain."

                                            >"My end?"

                                            "A man of my... 'services' is frowned upon; if the police were to find out what I'd done--"

                                            >"I won't breathe a word to anyone."

                                            >You don't believe her, but that money is all the reason you need.

                                            "I'll meet you back here in three hours."

                                            >Check your inner pocket as you leave your office.

                                            >A sharp knife lies inside.


                                            >Watch as the pony does wing push-ups.

                                            >It's just her, you, and the moonlight.

                                            >Perfect.

                                            >Check around yourself again to make sure that you really are alone.

                                            >The time is now.

                                            >Step out of the bush and stroll towards the pegasus.

                                            >She hasn't seen you yet.

                                            >Reach into your pocket and pull out the knife, clenching it between your fingers.

                                            >Your knuckles turn white from anticipation and strain.

                                            >When you're just a few feet from her, she freezes.

                                            >The pony twists her head around and sees you right behind her, knife in hand.

                                            >You pause, tension saturating the air around you.

                                            >Seconds pass, then you both move.

                                            >As the pegasus tries to take flight, you tackle her and pin her down.

                                            >Her legs thrash around and she attempts to scream.

                                            >Cover her mouth with a hand, pressing your entire body against hers and using your weight to keep her down.

                                            >Use your other hand to push the knife against her throat.

                                            >She freezes up, and tears start streaking down her face.

                                            >The inevitability of her dilemma has set in.

                                            >Chuckling darkly, you shuffle yourself into a more comfortable position, the knife still held to the pony's most vulnerable point.

                                            >She shakes her head, silently pleading with you not to carry out the deed.

                                            >If you were a man with a moral compass you might have had a second thought; instead, you trail a hand up the pony's body, feeling her soft fur and tense muscles that seem to flinch at your touch.

                                            >As your hand reaches her head, you cup it behind her, holding her head in place and stroking the mane slightly.

                                            >Ready.

                                            >Cast the knife aside and pull the pony into a hug.

                                            >She weeps as you cuddle her plushy little body.

                                            >The mare has the cutest widdle kicky hooves that waggle about and try to harm you.

                                            >But you're too strong, and you hold her against your body, cooing into her ear.

                                            "Who's a pretty pony?"

                                            >"M-me... Please s-stop."

                                            "Nu uh."

                                            >Cuddle the fuck out of that horse.

                                            >She's so soft and warm you don't ever want it to end.

                                            >You even reach down and rub her belly a bit.

                                            >Her rear leg kicks out at this.

                                            >The mare squeals and cries as you tickle her soft spots.

                                            >Sniff her mane.

                                            >Smells like skittles.

                                            >Huh.

                                            >"P-please, I'll give you anything! Just stop, please!"

                                            "Nah."

                                            >"Why? What did I deserve to do this--OhGodPleaseDon'tTouchMyHooves."

                                            >Squeeze her hooves, making the mare squirm and wriggle in your tender grasp.

                                            >She glares up at you, hatred in her eyes.

                                            >"You're scum."

                                            >Kiss her on the nose.

                                            >Her face scrunches up.

                                            >Gently lift her up and place her on the grass on all fours.

                                            >Stand up and pat yourself down, readjusting your fedora and picking up your knife.

                                            >She glowers up at you.

                                            >Pat her on the head.

                                            "Good girl."

                                            >Reach into your pocket and give her a lollipop.

                                            >She grudgingly takes it and suckles on it, enjoying the taste almost as much as the cuddles she just had.

                                            >"You'll pay for this."

                                            "I know. They cost like a single bit from Sugarcube Corner."

                                            >"Not the... Ugh, nevermind..."

                                            >Smile and walk away.

                                            >Mission Accomplished.


                                            >"A-and then! A-and then h-he c-cuddleraped me!"

                                            >Rainbow Dash sobs into your chest as you stroke her mane.

                                            >"It was awful, Fluttershy! It was so comfy!"

                                            >Shush her and try to calm her down.

                                            "There there, Rainbow, the police will find him!"

                                            >"H-his hands were so so-ho-hooft!"

                                            >Your friend sobs like a filly and buries her face into you.

                                            >Look out the window, smiling.

                                            >The human nods at you, then disappears into the night.

                                            >Oh Rainbow.

                                            >If only you knew.


                                            >Walk away from the house, checking how many bits are in the bag.

                                            >Man, you know -exactly- what you're going to spend this on.

                                            >Lollipops and alcohol.

                                            >Hell yeah.


                                            The End.