"What the hell, Red?"
>"It's perfectly natural, Anon."
"That's not my issue. It's just..."
>You watch Redheart's hooves move across your daughter's rump, adjusting her wide-spreading grip.
"Feels like you're doing my job."
>"D-dad!"
>Redheart leans out of the way.
>"So, what do you really think?"
"It's cute."
>You pause.
"But you're sure it's not a genital defect or—"
>"/Yes/, Anon. It's healthy, and she owes it to you."
>"Ugh, gross..."
>You raise a brow.
"Really?"
>"No. It runs in the family."
>You give your mare's rump a good look. She's not standing, but you still pull a good deal of satisfaction from it.
"Coulda fooled me."
>She turns her head to give you one eye.
>"Not everypony gets it. At least, not unless it's already shown up in a previous generation. Then again, I've never taken too close a look for myself..."
"Don't worry, I'd tell you if I saw."
>You both resume staring at your daughter's perfectly heart-stamped rump.
>She squirms.
>"M-mom, are we done yet?"
"Right below the tail, too..."
>Your mutter catches Redheart's ears.
>"Yes, I think your father's seen enough. We don't want him getting any ideas."
"/Ideas/?"
>She releases her hooves, and your filly's pert rump jostles back into place.
>"I recognize that look, Anon."
"You love me for it."
>Your daughter huffs, slides her forelegs off the beds, and pouts at you.
>"Dad, I'm not going to let you fuck me."
>"Language!"
>You throw a hand out her way, and stare at Redheart in disbelief.
"You're telling me she /just/ hit puberty, and /just/ so happens to know swears?"
>"Don't you throw this on me, monkey dick."
>She gasps, then holds a hoof over her mouth.
>You give your teenage filly a look.
"And just so you know, you saying no wouldn't be a problem. It wasn't one for your mother, at least."

>You are Sweetheart.
>And you are having a not so sweet day.
>You'd already earned your cutie mark years before, but with your new heart, you might as well have earned a second one.
>You thought that being popular would be a dream come true.
>Reality, it seems, is not so bold-faced as you imagined it to be. In fact, as your dad would say, it's a "pain in the ass".
>For one thing, your older fillyfriends are absolutely driving you up the wall: they just won't stop. It's a ceaseless storm of rapport-building and care.
>"You're gonna get sooo many colts with that heart, filly!"
>Sweet Celestia, the /colts/.
"Don't even get me started!"
>You were a big mare now, and big mares got what they wanted.
>But right now, you weren't so sure this mark was the way.
>"C'mon, flaunt it! I saw you talking to /him/."
>You blink, then gag.
"Ace Thruster?"
>Your fillyfriends swoon instantly.
>But one remains standing, and her muzzle twists with confusion and horror.
>"You've got to be joking, Sweetheart! He's a total /stud/."
"And he's totally NOT my type."
>"Just because you've got two hearts doesn't mean you have to lock them both up."
"I'm not. I can tell what they really want."
>"And what do they want?"
>Having recovered, your fillyfriends all lean close.
>One of them giggles, and whispers conspiratorially.
>"I bet her dad showed her what colts really want."
>Before you can even respond, your other fillyfriends are on the scene, berating the ever-loving harmony from the out-of-line filly.
>Your muzzle scrunches as you process the statement in a more nuanced light.
>Thankfully (or regrettably), your mind is able to decipher just what exactly she means.
>It's a lot less obtuse when you remember just how different your family acts from a 'normal' family.
>You stomp a hoof, flustered; you already made this clear to your family, why did you have to do it again?
"My dad doesn't see me that way!"
>And there was no way you would ever fu—
>"See you in what way?"
>You feel a familiar touch: two hands on your withers.
>You relax. Only to immediately bolt upright when you realize he heard what you said.
>"H-hi, Mister Anon!"
>"...Hello, girls."
>You tilt your head up, straining your neck.
>Your father looks down from above.
"Hi, dad..."
>He grins, leans a little further over you, and starts to rub your withers. You coo, melting into his touch.
>As you lower your half-lidded gaze to your friends, you can just barely make out the cloud of blush sprayed across them.
>"Thanks for keeping an eye on my Sweetheart, girls."
>You barely stifle a moan. This must be what mom feels like all the time...
>"N-no problem. She's... pretty cool!"
>"And pretty hot, right?"
>Your eyes widen, and so do your friends'.
"Daaad!"
>He pats you firmly, putting an end to his tender assault.
>"...Yeah, she's hot."
>You can't believe what you're hearing. From your own fillyfriend, too!
>You shake your head.
"Are you here to take me home?"
>"Well, I /was/ here to make sure you hadn't given your plot a thorough field-test and examination, given all the attention your body's been giving it. Your mom told me that it wasn't too far from impossible."
>Your blush fires up like an inferno.
"S-she really said that?"
>"Ha. Hell no."
>Oh, thank Celestia.
>"I did."
"DAD!"
>He just runs his hand along your back, resting it near the base of your tail.
>"But yes, it's time to head home. We're going out tonight to celebrate that new mark of yours."
>You look at your friends.
"But..."
>He squeezes. You shudder.
>"Mom's orders."
>You sigh. Can't fight those. Doubly so when your dad's got a firm grip on your rump.
"Sorry, girls."
>"It's okay, Sweetheart. We'll see you at school tomorrow, right?"
"Yeah."
>You ignore the jealous looks your friends shoot you as they make their hasty exits and goodbyes.
>It's just you and dad, now.
>He rubs his hand along your coat, and your ears tweak back.
"Dad... stop feeling me up."
>"Sweetheart, don't tempt me."
>Gosh, your dad is /totally/ into you.
"I kinda feel like you're past that point."
>As you start for the way home, you fall into step beside him.
>"God, what I'd give to show you what I was like before I met your mother."
"Gross."
>"What? I didn't say anything."
"Then let go of my dock."
>"Fiiine. I was just trying to show you some appreciation."
"I got enough of that from the colts /and/ fillies at school."
>"Wow. Of all the ponies in the world, I didn't expect my daughter to be a TOTAL prude."
>Even with the exaggeration in his tone, you just can't let him get away with that bait.
"I am not!"
>"Then how come I don't see any grandfoals?"
>You bump him with your side, and he tousles your mane.
>It doesn't take him long to return his hand to your rump. This time, he feels along the edge of your heart mark.
>"Just between you and me, Sweetheart..."
>You feel the telltale twitch, but he resists the urge to squeeze. He moves his hand away without further molestation.
>"Mares with markings are the hottest."
>And with that final remark—from your father, no less—you find purpose in your rear-mounted fortune.
"Maybe someday, you can show me what you really mean."
>Your father stops. He gives you a look. You blink your eyelashes back with all the non-innocence you can muster.
>His face floods with a tide of emotion, the knowledge of his actions crashing down in a glorious backfiring blaze.
>He sighs.
>"Fuck. Red's going to kill me."