Flaming Death Spiral


“Ma!” came the little voice, and two pairs of green and ruby eyes flew wide in alarm.

Rainbow Dash’s expression soured, and she clung more tightly with her forelegs around Applejack’s waist.

“Awww, honey… no, please, naw, you jes’ let me deal with it…”

Dash gritted her teeth. “Rrrrrr!”

That got a reaction, for she was gritting her teeth on a slim, enchanted cylinder of metal. It was a magic bit, and it served a purpose. It brought to life a similarly enchanted appendage on Rainbow Dash; namely, a penis.

The reaction in question was horror, for the pressure on the bit caused Rainbow’s false stallionhood to harden inside Applejack, and the flare to expand… and something besides ponycock had come up.

“Eeeee, stoppit! Dashie!” squealed Applejack under her breath. “No!” Her right rear hoof lifted and kicked the air in dismay, her orange rump quivering as her vagina squeezed uselessly at the cerulean shaft, and she tossed her head, mane flying, for Rainbow wasn’t letting go of her, and she could see movement under the covers. Their baby was awake, and the thing about foals was, foals could jump right out of bed and run up to you demanding milk.

Applejack was prepared to give milk—indeed, she was delighted to—but she couldn’t bear the thought of nursing a foal while getting fucked at the same time. Something about the prospect horrified her to her core—a juicy, tight Apple core that Dash was busily wedging stallion-cock into. Dash gave one more shove, and Applejack twisted frantically under her lover, panicking…

Dash spit the bit out, and it clanged brightly on the wood floor of Applejack’s bedroom. “Fine! It’s your turn, anyway!”

When she’d released the magic artifact, her stallionhood had shrunk away to nothing, slurping out of Applejack, who stood with her legs trembling, giving Dash a look of mingled annoyance and apology. “Ah know it is my turn, sugarcube, don’t be cross…” she said, while their foal squirmed and kicked under the covers, trying to get from the cozy nest of fluffy blankets to the open air and then to Mom—either one. She was fussy, but not about that.

“It takes you so long to get back into it!” whined Dash, her wings flapping anxiously.

“Sshh…” said Applejack, looking over toward their bed.

A little pony head had lifted, and was looking beseechingly at her, pale green with pale blue mane, eyes as compellingly red as Dash’s own irises. The eyes were huge, hypnotic—hungry.

“Maaa!” cried Northern Spy, wriggling out from under the covers to stand, knobby-kneed, atop the bed. Her head still only came up as high as theirs, but she held it high as if she were standing on a throne, not just the biggest bed in Sweet Apple Acres.

Dash sulked. “Go on, then.”

Applejack’s ear flicked. “Don’t be that way, honey. Look on the bright side—at least I can do this!”

Dash’s ears went back. “Yeah, and Granny hates it…”

“That’s because Twilight helped me,” said Applejack serenely, and stepped forward to rub noses with their new foal.

Rainbow Dash’s sour look persisted, though she hated herself for it. Applejack had dropped her sexual arousal like a hot brick, to smoulder impotently on the floor—except it was Dash smouldering impotently, for Applejack didn’t like her using the bit while Spy was watching.

She tapped a hoof, eyes narrowed, as Spy nuzzled her mother (or one of them, anyway) and then hopped down off the bed with a clatter of tiny hooves and dove under Applejack’s belly—and she sighed, as Spy latched onto Applejack’s nipple and began sucking away, her throat gulping the milk lustily.

She watched Applejack quiver, shifting a hoof, her lovely orange rump tensing and then relaxing into the bliss of it as she nursed her foal, standing placidly as she felt her pony breast steadily drained of its life-giving milk.

Rainbow Dash made a face. She could also see Applejack’s tender vagina, still glistening from its recent happy exercise, sitting there pertly and mockingly between burnt-ochre ass-cheeks. It had felt amazing on Dash’s cock, tight and slick and feverishly excited to receive the plunging stallionhood. Applejack’s pussy was like a fantasy filly vagina, a country girl pussy nearly untouched by the world.

Of course, there was a reason for that. Applejack hadn’t given birth to Spy. Dash had. Applejack’s body hadn’t shoved a baby foal out through that ravishing mare vagina. That had been Dash’s problem. Just because two mares, pegasus magic and a semen donor could have a foal didn’t mean both of them gave birth. One got spared that, by necessity.

And as unfair as it was, Dash glowered, mightily pissed off, as Applejack relaxed into the warm cuddly daze of motherhood without having paid for it.

It was unfair because the situation was exactly what Dash had wanted. She’d quickly been driven to distraction by the constant, around-the-clock need to stand like some cow and be milked, and the kinky erotic twist of having a mouth sucking her nipple had got old even faster when it became a job. And it had become a job, and the incessant standing made her more and more frustrated, and not a week had gone by before she’d turned to Twilight Sparkle, begging for a way to get the all-too-willing Applejack involved.

Spy had been willing all along—she seemed to understand Applejack was also her mother, but could not work out why there was no milk offered and grew very frustrated.

And so life had changed, to accomodate Dash’s needs, and Applejack’s breasts swelled with milk and allowed her to nurse her baby. The first time, Dash had nuzzled Applejack’s face, drinking in the look of quivering, abject gratitude, kissing her and then licking the tears of joy away. Her marefriend wasn’t just helping, she was joining in something sacred—primal—and they felt it from head to hooves, just as much as they both gazed upon little Northern Spy’s radiance with awe and wonder, gaping at her perfect little light-green body, fluffy pale-blue mane, and those deep ruby eyes just like Rainbow’s. Allowing her to nurse, the first few times, was a profound, nearly religious experience.

It got old surprisingly quick.

Rainbow Dash glowered again. There was more to life than being a big soft mare-mama. She’d intended to keep her strengthened wings in shape, and she’d been able to resume workouts almost immediately. She’d also intended to maintain a sex life with her beloved marefriend, and that was proving more of a challenge.

Applejack’s butt tensed, and her tail swished. She let out a little moan. Northern Spy was suckling really hard, and somehow it stayed rewarding for the country mare longer than it did for the athlete pegasus. Applejack had explained how it wasn’t quite the same as being sexy, not the same at all in fact. Dash understood that part, but it was hard to not be drawn by sexy thoughts when you were looking at such a lovely marepussy that you’d just been plumbing the depths of, only to be interrupted.

Rainbow bent her head, sniffing. Applejack’s lips were still slightly parted, the glisten beginning to dry up, the firm supple flesh cooling off from its sex-maddened fever as her attention was distracted by her foal. Dash knew it would’ve been unfair to Applejack not to dismount. She’d been told that she’d gone up a size or two since the birth. Twilight had been annoyingly fascinated, and had spouted a lot of speculation on size correlations between magical erections and mare vaginas, until Dash smacked her with a hoof.

After all, ‘correlations’ meant that Dash’s pussy had been ruined and made bigger and looser, and that wasn’t much fun at all. Applejack got the best of all possible worlds—she got to be a nursing mother, a mare with a tight snug pussy that had never passed a foal, and to have a well-hung stallion for a mate. Dash got a stretched vagina, a foal sucking on her at all hours of the night, and a marefriend who’d abandon sex to take care of a baby.

Rainbow Dash made a face, and then sniffed at Applejack again, and a little half-smile snuck onto her face. Spy couldn’t see her, from that angle, and Applejack did have the prettiest marehood in all Ponyville—hell, all Equestria, thought Dash, loyally. She extended her tongue, and tucked it between Applejack’s lips, stroking tenderly from her lover’s still-engorged clitoris up across yielding pinkness to where she’d entered her beloved’s body, that enfolding darkness of eager flesh that waited its turn for celebration.

Applejack shuddered, her rump tensing, and she swatted Rainbow across the face with her tail. “Dashie! No!”

It was love that made Rainbow step back, because lust was telling her to drive her darling harder and really make her squirm. “But… awww! Not even a little?”

“In a minute,” pleaded Applejack. “We’ve had this conversation, sugar! Please?”

Dash sat back on her haunches. Her wings were up and quivering. She’d thrust her tongue partly into Applejack’s vagina, and she could still feel that wonderful firm grip, something that her own body had been cheated out of. The bit lay on the floor where she’d dropped it, but she knew it’d be at least half an hour before Applejack felt comfortable being sexy again.

“But… it’s my kid too, Applejack. Come on… think about it. She could probably drink even while I made love to you, and not bat an eyelash. I could be really gentle and careful…”

Applejack turned her head, and her expression was miserable and sulky. “Please don’t beg me. I cain’t see it, honest, my love, I just cain’t… please, please, jes’ you give me a minute…”

Dash’s face fell.

“I’m… gonna fly some laps.”

“I’m so sorry, Dashie. It’ll only be a minute. Ah’ll be right where ya left me?”

“Yeah, right,” said Dash, and began to trot out the bedroom door. She had to pivot sideways and shift her body to get through because her wings were so erect and she didn’t feel like scraping them on the door frame.

Downstairs, she wriggled and stretched, turned her head, and glared at her wings’ feathery stiffness.

“You heard her—you have to wait, same as me!”

Some more wriggling loosened them up enough to flap, and Dash was out the front door, taking the air as dawn began to break.

“You got it, kid! Just a little more!” said Flight Lightning.

Scootaloo strained, going red in the face, her tiny wings buzzing like a hummingbird’s.

“Now, start descending… no, open your eyes, honey, don’t squeeze ‘em like that…”

Scootaloo’s legs kicked madly, as if she was trying to gallop through the sky, and she bared her teeth, eyes still squeezed shut as she forced herself to her utter limits, clinging to the air for one more second as her mother looked on with concern that became alarm.

Scootaloo squeaked, and her wings froze up, strained to the point of cramping, and she dropped kicking out of the air—all of four feet, to bounce on the grass-covered earth.

Flight Lightning dove to land beside her. “Scoots! Ya okay?”

Scootaloo spat out a mouthful of grass. “I almost had it!”

Her mother gave her a look. “If you’re gonna eat grass, kid, you should have eaten it for breakfast when I served it. I told you, you’re going to need the energy, but you wouldn’t listen.”

The pegasus filly sulked. “I had important stuff to do! I’m fine, Mom.”

“Oh, Scoots,” said Flight, shaking her head. “I understand Sweetie Belle is important to you. Really, I get that. But I warned you not to skip breakfast…”

“I didn’t skip it!”

“You left more than half, and now look at you! Uh… I’m sorry, that came out wrong. What I mean is, you can’t just do everything on raw willpower, okay, kiddo? I’m glad I didn’t have you at higher altitude. Practice is done until…”

“But we just STARTED!”

“Until after lunch!” snapped Flight Lightning. “I’m serious, Scoots, I’m not training you if I think you’re gonna drop like that. There’s a reason I’m telling you not to go for it at your full effort. I know better than anypony how determined you are, okay? You can’t do that in the air. You’ve got to leave some reserves.”

Scootaloo pouted, not meeting her mother’s eyes. After a little pause, she said, “Can you go back and get my scooter for me?”

“You’re that spent, huh?”

Scootaloo glared at her resentfully, because it was true.

“I’ll make you a deal,” said Flight. “I go back and grab your scooter—and you hang out here and eat some of this grass, enough to make up for the breakfast you skipped.” She folded her hooves, gazing levelly at her filly.

“It’s not as good!”

“Oh, now you approve of my shopping choices?”

Scootaloo sulked, lowered her head, and cropped a little of the grass, munching on it with wrinkled nose.

Flight Lightning bent her head in turn and sampled the grass herself. “Mm… yeah, it’s not as good, but it’s okay. Sit tight, kiddo, I’ll be right back,” she said, and effortlessly took wing, heading back toward Ponyville.

In the distance, she saw a blue speck. Rainbow Dash? It approached—yes, Rainbow Dash.

“Hi there, Flight Lightning!” called Derpy Hooves, who was making her morning delivery rounds. She waved, and a letter fell out of her bag, unnoticed. Flight Lightning rolled her eyes while Dash raced closer, as if meaning to join them for a chat…

Derpy squeaked and dove out of the way, and Flight dodged. Rainbow Dash hadn’t joined them. She’d flown right through them as if they weren’t there—with her eyes tightly closed, the whole time.

“Hey!” yelled Flight Lightning, but Dash was already gone.

Flight glared, beat her wings fiercely, and took off after Dash. It wouldn’t be easy to catch the impossibly fast racing pegasus, but Flight soon realized Rainbow wasn’t really going for it. She was flying straight, with her eyes closed, and Flight Lightning redoubled her efforts and began to catch up, as Dash soared towards a stand of tall trees.

Flight’s jaw dropped. Rainbow Dash had come so close to one treetop that a leaf was whipped loose by the force of her near miss. Flight had to swoop wide to avoid it, for it wasn’t safe to cut it that close—if a branch swayed into your path, you could lose a wing to the impact. She struggled to make up the gap, staring worriedly after Dash, who seemed to be flying on without altering her course, presumably with her eyes still closed.

Something hit Flight’s nose as she raced up underneath Dash. It stung like hitting a raindrop at speed. A tear?

Flight Lightning realized they were heading for the cliffs. “Hey!” she yelled, again, her voice lost in the slipstream.

She watched, as Rainbow Dash picked up speed and gently arced over, starting to really haul ass—the cliffs her obvious target.

“No…” hissed Flight Lightning, and thrashed forward for all she was worth.

If Rainbow Dash had been really going for it, the story might have been very different. Flight Lightning knew she wasn’t a match for Dash’s peak abilities. However, she also thought she knew what was happening, cursed herself for not spotting it sooner, and sprained her hapless wings in an insane sprint just to catch up with the famed flyer, and though her eyes bulged out and her breath frothed from the effort, she matched Dash’s heightened speed, and chomped with grim determination on the rainbow tail that whipped in the slipstream behind her.

And she stalled, and dragged as hard as she could, causing both ponies to spin out of control.

“Wha…” squawked Dash, her eyes flying open. “What the… what the fuck?”

Then, she flapped madly, for the cliff rushed up as if eager to give them a big hug, and its embraces were excessively rough. Dash and Flight Lightning slammed into it with a dizzying thud, and dropped to a ledge decorated with dull brown rocks of various sizes.

Flight Lightning squealed breathlessly as she staggered off the ledge, but Dash reared up and grabbed her before she fell. It wasn’t so much about steadying her, as they could both fly; it was about seizing her.

“What the fuck was that for?” she yelled at the magenta pegasus: co-worker at Weather Patrol, mother of Scootaloo, and not previously given to aerial roughhousing. “Is this you attacking me again?”

Flight shook her head to clear it, and glared at Dash. “Funny, I could be asking the same thing of you, except I’m not going to! You know why?”

Dash glared back. “Why?” Her eyes were streaked with moisture that wasn’t entirely from the high winds of speed-flying.

Flight Lightning set her jaw. “Because I know what was happening. I went through it. Jig’s up, Dash. I know what you were doing.”

“All I was doing was having a morning fly!” protested Rainbow. “That’s just great of you to fly up and fuckin’ attack me just because I was seeing how far I could fly with my eyes cl…”

“Bullshit,” said Flight. “You knew where you were. Why’d you dive right then? You nearly hit a tree back there. I’m not letting you away from here until you talk.”

“About what?” challenged Dash.

Flight Lightning’s eyes narrowed. “Post-partum depression, Rainbow Dash. You aimed for the cliff. Maybe you didn’t open your eyes, but I think you knew it was there, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

Dash’s chin lifted, and her mouth opened as she began to deny everything—but Flight Lightning’s gaze was fierce and unrelenting, and Dash faltered, not speaking.

“Talk,” said Flight, wiping froth from her mouth and wincing at the strain to her wings.

Rainbow Dash slowly sagged, looking away, still raging but increasingly overcome with grief.

“Come on. What happened? Talk, Dash.”

The blue pegasus crumbled, feelings overwhelming her, but it seemed to make her angry as much as sad, every step of the way. Flight watched as Dash banged the ground of the rocky ledge with a forehoof, making a sharp clacking sound. It wasn’t good for hooves to do that, not with that amount of force. You could chip or even crack a hoof against the rock, or hurt your ankle. Dash apparently didn’t care.

“Look, I’m not leaving until you talk…”

“It’s such bullshit!” sobbed Rainbow. “What the hell is wrong with me?”

“I told you! Postpartum depression. So what happened?”

Rainbow wiped her eyes. “Applejack…”

“Givin’ you a hard time, huh?” said Flight.

“No! That’s just it. She’s being too wonderful, it’s pissing me off. Twilight did a magic thing to her that lets her nurse the foal… Spy, I mean, Northern Spy.” Rainbow Dash winced, realizing she was taking a strangely impersonal tone about her own progeny. “Look at me, I’m calling it the foal… her! Argh…”

Flight grabbed Dash again. “Steady, Dash. Hey, I called mine the ravening monster, so you’re not so bad off, right?”

Rainbow blinked, tearfully. “What? Scootaloo? When was that?”

“This morning. It’s a long story, about that little white unicorn filly, who Scoots will tell you about endlessly if you have a spare hour or two. Point is, we have our little ways, okay? You’re new to all this. Talk to me some more. So Applejack is so wonderful you’re flying at cliffs?”

Dash’s mouth tightened. “Why does it have to sound so fucking insane? Now that you put it that way…”

“Gold star!” declared Flight Lightning. “Exactly! Dash, your brain chemistry is going bonkers after your foaling. It’s telling you stuff that makes no logical sense. It’s making it real, in your head. That’s what insane IS. I had the same thing.”

Rainbow didn’t speak for a moment, and then lifted an eyebrow, looking sidelong at her friend. “You did?”

“Yeah.” Flight Lightning shook her head, marvelling. “This is giving me a whole new perspective on that. I thought I had very good reasons for feeling the way I did. My stallion straight-up abandoned me and Scoots the second he saw her wings. He knew I’d been ground-pounding. He was just done, he was out of there…”

“Who were you seeing?” asked Dash.

“Just this cowpony… wild guy. We need to look him up, I haven’t seen him in years. All of a sudden, Scoots is obsessed with flying, and it’s all because of this guy. She wants to be able to fly when she meets her other Dad for the first time. She’s got a ways to go.”

Dash nodded. “Yeah, I can imagine. She’s a pretty hopeless case.”

Flight Lightning glared. “Watch it.”

“Sorry!” squeaked Dash, eyes wide.

“Point is, now I think I understand those days a little better. To this day, I think back on that time, and it seems amazing I even made it through—but look at you, Dash, you’re going through the same feelings and you’ve got a stand-in. You know, for the standing? You know what I mean—all that nursing,” winked Flight Lightning. “I gotta believe you’re finding it just as maddening as I did.”

“Oh, Celestia,” moaned Dash, considering her sins. “I don’t appreciate Applejack enough, and then I turn around and say rude things to you. I’m being horrible, I’m so ungrateful, I suck so much…”

“Whoa!” ordered Flight. “Stop it! Stop that right now, think of nothing. Wipe your…” She heaved a big sigh. “You can do better than that, Flight. C’mere, Dash.”

Rainbow hesitated, and then leaned over and allowed her co-worker to hug her. Flight hugged firmly, hooves well clear of Dash’s powerful wings, stroking her mane—and chuckled.

“I’d have wanted a hug, back when it was me flipping out. Heh. Look at me, freakin’ scolding you at a time like this. You think you’re a jerk? I was gonna yell at you for feeling bad. Ridiculous. Retarded. Heh!” said Flight Lightning. “That’s MAIL pony retarded.”

The corner of Dash’s mouth twisted up. “Now who’s being hard on themselves?”

In the distance, Derpy Hooves flew away again, politely pretending she hadn’t heard. She’d counted her letters, twice, with difficulty, and worked out she’d dropped one, so she’d come back to get it. Dash, oblivious, favored Flight Lightning with a wry grin. “You are a jerk, though.”

“Yeah, but I’m your jerk,” grinned Flight.

“Maybe you’d understand this, then,” said Dash. “You know what’s making me the most crazy? You wouldn’t have had this, either, it’s a special thing that should be making life a lot nicer for me around about now. Me and Applejack have the magic bit, right? We can turn stallion on each other.”

Flight Lightning’s eyes widened. “I think I see where this is going. Don’t tell me—vag’s still recovering, but the cock’s going strong?”

“Better than ever,” said Dash smugly. She frowned. “Which is obnoxious, because Twilight says it’s a correlation, and it means I turned into more of a loose goose…”

“That’ll get better,” reassured Flight. “It’s not just about stretching, the pressure of your body around it counts for a lot. You’ll be fine. But it’s pissing you off for some reason?”

“Well, get this. Yeah, I can turn stallion, mount Applejack, but then you know what happens? Damn foal starts crying, and she drops everything and goes to deal with her! Like, every time!”

“It could be you having to do that,” pointed out Flight Lightning.

Dash glowered. “True. You’re right. Good point… but all the same, help me out here. How the fuck am I supposed to have sex NOW? I’ve got a kid, a marefriend, a big pegasus cock… and noplace to go!”

Behind Dash, the largest brown rock stirred, unfolding into a more familiar form.

Flight Lightning blanched. Her eyes flew wide, and she scrabbled backwards away from Dash as the blue pegasus stared in astonishment. She whispered, “Scoots…” and then without a moment’s hesitation, she’d dived off the ledge, and was sprinting back to where she’d left her semi-crippled, temporarily winded and flightless, small and vulnerable filly… and crying out anxiously, “Scoots! We’re gonna head home, okay, honey? Right now!”

Dash stared after her fleeing friend in astonishment, unable to understand what had been so terrifying. Then, she heard the soft breath behind her, and the world seemed to stop as her heart lurched, and slowly she turned to face her apparent fate…

“S’up,” purred Gilda.