Furtive Sneaks

The moonlight, filtering through the trees south of Ponyville, cast a feeble, blue, dappled light on the ground.

Wind stirred the leaves, and rustled the bushes, and a shaft of moonlight glimmered weakly, revealing greens that were mostly grey with the stillness of the night.

The washed-out dark greens of one bush betrayed a paler green within—then, a flash of gold as an eye peeped from the foliage, fearfully.

Then, the glitter of a tear in moonlight.

Lyra crept from the bush, her legs cramped and stiff, trembling in the lingering chill of the spring night. Leaves and twigs stuck in her mane, and she peered this way and that, fretfully, and began to creep down the road into town.

She longed to turn and flee, to run and hide in some cave halfway to Fillydelphia, as she’d done when Trixie had first turned on her. The dream of lesbian unicorn orgies had flared up to impossible brightness—only to burn out, horribly, irredeemably.

The worst part, Lyra felt, was that she’d let herself believe three unicorns could handle her. She cursed that hunger, that dissatisfaction that haunted her every moment, and she schemed desperately to find a place in Equestria for herself—some safe harbor that her madness would not destroy. Hope seemed very naive, and she felt thousands of years old and helpless as a filly, all at the same time.

She had to make it into town, and get her stuff, most importantly her lyre, because she had one last chance at emotional and sexual refuge, and would have to pull out all the stops—make herself pretty, beg and plead, maybe even play and sing love songs, for she wouldn’t be able to impress through the copious magic-spurtings of her horn, where she was going.

Lyra meant to win the heart of Princess Luna—and meet her match, at last.

As a cloud obscured the moon, she crept into town—not by the road, but sort of alongside it, lurking amongst the trees, taking cover behind a cow-barn and staying out of sight—always looking ahead for fear Trixie Lulamoon would appear, barring her path. Slinking past the cozy ranch owned by the Apple family, approaching the little bridge across the stream that led into town, hugging the edge of the woods. There were three little bridges, in fact, but one was directly in front of the Carousel Boutique and that was far too dangerous to go near.

Lyra winced, as a cloud obscured the moon again, casting her into darkness. Why had Rarity acted that way? It wasn’t fair. Twilight had said, outright, that Rarity’s kink was being dominated and used against her will. She’d come super hard, and what could possibly be wrong with mounting her and savoring the exquisite pleasures of her body, wallowing in her beauty and desirability? Particularly when showing that hunger for her turned her on, particularly when the alternative seemed to be hurting her? How could that be right, that hitting her and causing pain was pleasure, but growing a penis and plunging it into her quivering marehood counted as a terrible crime?

Another tear came to Lyra’s eye as she tried to understand, knowing it was too late. Twilight said that for herself and Rarity, they lived such stressful lives that they sought relief through being used and dominated. It had even made a sort of sense. Or at least Lyra had thought it made sense at the time, and done her best…

She shook her head. There was no answer to that thought. She could still hear Rarity weeping—her fault.

Lyra followed the treeline away from the central bridge. There was too much exposed road to risk it—and she didn’t dare get closer to the Carousel Boutique. She imagined Rarity, sitting up in bed in a sudden panic, sensing her loathsome presence—never explaining why Lyra was so terrible, just weeping and carrying on and then trying to pretend nothing was wrong, but it was obviously so false. Lyra stumbled, just thinking about it, and the shadow covered her again as she began to cry in earnest. She was a monster, just a monster, and if she couldn’t seek out Princess Luna…

The shadow was dark—too dark.

Lyra whirled, looking up at the sky, and there was nothing but cloud blotting out the stars as if expanding outwards with a sound like vengeful wings…

The cloud broke up, blown violently in all directions, and a huge fat flapping form dropped upon her, pinning her to the ground as she squeaked.

“Hi, cutie,” whispered Rainbow Dash. “Mind explaining why you’re sneaking around Sweet Apple Acres in the dark, crying?”

Lyra stared up at the cerulean pegasus, whose mighty wings still beat the air fitfully. Her eyes were wide, and her mouth hung open, but no sound came out, only a faint wheezing.

“Oh, sorry…” said Dash. “I’d better let you up—Spy’s pretty good at squishing ponies with a little help from me. Applejack could tell you that! But before I get off you, how about you promise not to run away until you’ve told me what you’re doing? We already got one Spy in Sweet Apple Acres. Job’s filled, no room for a second spy!”

Dash glared, and Lyra shook her head frantically.

“Oh, you’re NOT a spy? Good, so what the buck are you doing, Lyra? I thought I saw you running around with Twilight and Trixie and Rarity and that crowd.”

Lyra continued to shake her head. Her face twisted in woe, and she started to cry again, and still couldn’t get breath for a word of explanation.

“Oh, horseapples. Okay, fine, you better not run away…”

Dash rolled her weight off Lyra, and did her best to grab the sobbing unicorn and prevent escape, but it wasn’t necessary. Lyra grabbed right back, clinging to Rainbow, pressing into the warm circle of her embrace and sobbing against her neck, her horn bonking awkwardly against Rainbow’s chin as Dash grunted and tried to lie comfortably on her side.

“Kid’s making me fuckin’ soft already,” muttered Rainbow. “Okay, okay. What’s the matter, Lyra? Don’t cry. C’mon, talk to me, what’s eatin’ you?”

Lyra sniffled, piteously. “I’m horrible! I’m awful!”

Dash snickered. “Really? I always thought you were pretty hot for a unicorn. What’s got you saying that? I mean, yeah, you’re obnoxious and won’t put out, but I was used to that…”

“I fucked Rarity…” managed Lyra.

“If that’s supposed to be bad, you get a hoof to the head. She’s my friend too. Heh—I guess at least you won’t be telling me you rode her off into the sunset, because you always looked like one tight little pony-pocket to me and it probably wouldn’t…”

“No,” sniffled Lyra. “It did… she did… it was amazing, amazing…”

Dash stared into space, with an air of complete exasperation. “For fuck’s sake…”

“What?” squeaked Lyra, startled. “What’s wrong, is that wrong?”

“No, it’s okay,” said Dash. “Incredibly annoying, but okay. Unbelievable. Dammit!”

“I’m sorry! Please don’t be angry at me!”

“No, no, I… dammit! Does EVERY pony get a piece of that action but me? Continue. This is amazing, really. I always thought Rarity was pretty hot even though she’s totally bonkers, and when she grabs a bit—whoof! I’m just mad I never got any. Guess I’m not in shape for it right now. Hah! It might help for when I have Spy! Go on, please. What happened?”

Lyra looked miserable, in the pale moonlight. “I thought I was doing it right. I came SO HARD. And she needed fucking, she even said so, and I jumped on her and I did my best, I swear, and then she was all freaking upset and wouldn’t say why, just lay there crying, and now they hate me and Trixie is out to get me…”

Dash froze, and then addressed Lyra with seriousness. “Thank you for reminding me about that.”

“About what?”

“Why not to fuck Rarity. Seriously! What you said is, like, my worst nightmare… I guess maybe it’s worth it. Was it worth it?”

Lyra wasn’t comforted by these observations. Dash poked her with a hoof. “More to the point, what are you doing here? You didn’t answer. Are you trying to get Applejack? You can’t have her, she’s mine, so don’t even…”

“No!” sobbed Lyra, and began to cry again.

“All right, all right. Good. Cos’, you know, you and sharing—not so much—and Applejack and unicorns, let’s just say it hasn’t always worked out. She’s fine not playing with other mares, though it seems like a waste. So what ARE you doing, Lyra?”

Golden eyes pleaded with ruby ones. “I have to get into town and get my lyre out of the room I was renting! Without Trixie catching me!”

“So get it,” said Dash. “Why are you carrying on about it? That’s a simple caper, in and out. You’re not dressed for it, so I guess you’re not good at stealth. What do you need the lyre for?”

Lyra drew a deep, shaking breath.

“Three unicorns aren’t enough to handle me, so I have to get my lyre and then use it and my magic bit to seduce Princess Luna, who’s locked up in the castle in Canterlot. There’s guards and everything.”

Rainbow Dash stared, stunned. Lyra tried desperately to explain the madness, stammering frantic words into the silence.

“The thing is I have to have Princess Luna because my horn ejaculates too hard for unicorn mares and that might have been hurting Rarity or something, it sort of knocked Twilight out but Princess Luna’s horn-come cuts through rock, Trixie saw it, and the only hope I can have for finding love in Equestria is to let Princess Luna make love to me and arc with me which Twilight says won’t burn me up with magic but Trixie isn’t sure and I don’t CARE, I’ve just GOT to feel her horn-gasm overpowering mine and plunging into me, filling me with magic, and she’s so lonely and sad and I just have to be with her even if it costs my life…”

She trailed off, for Rainbow Dash had squeezed her eyes shut and was pounding the ground with a fore-hoof, and she thought she saw tears in Dash’s eyes. Dash’s face was contorted, teeth gritted, and Lyra considered trying to flee before the reaction passed, but she was too late.

Rainbow Dash’s head snapped up and her gaze was almost reverent.

“Bad… ASS…”

Lyra tried to interpret her expression, brows knit in perplexity. “Does that mean you’ll help me?”

“Oh yeah. Oh yeah! Oh my gosh so awesome! Can I watch? No, never mind, I wouldn’t be allowed to do that. Holy crap, Lyra, really? You’re like gonna go and do crazy unicorn sex with a Princess?”

“I’ve got to,” said Lyra, “there is nothing else for me.”

“Oh my gosh!” squeaked Dash. Her wings were quiveringly erect, and she looked like she was about to get off just hearing the plan.

“What can you do to help, anyway?”

Rainbow pulled herself together, and hastily wiped her chin with the back of a hoof. “Mph! Lots, that’s what. And I’m going to—this is the most bad-ass thing I’ve ever heard of. First of all, you’re dressed all wrong. You need like a ninja-pony suit for sneaking in. You can borrow mine! There’s just extra holes. You know, for wings? And, um, yeah. Right. And…”

Lyra blinked, as Dash dropped her gaze. “And what?”

Rainbow grinned, and her gaze was coy and sidelong. “You can still borrow it. If you’re pony enough… maybe if your unicorny horny-ness is so amazing you won’t mind running around with the crotch ripped out of your ninja suit. Take it or leave it. Or I guess take it and then still take it, know what I mean?”

Lyra squeaked. “The crotch is ripped out?”

“By pony teeth,” smirked Rainbow. “While I was wearing it.”

Lyra struggled to maintain a sexy coolness, as that seemed to be the secret way to impress Rainbow Dash and enlist her support. “I see. I can only hope that I’m as enticing to Princess Luna as you presumably were to Applejack. Hmm?”

Dash was shaking her head, smirking. Lyra lifted an eyebrow. “It wasn’t Applejack, then? It was Pinkie?”

“Nah,” said Dash, her wings proudly erect. “It was me. I ripped the crotch out with my own teeth so that my mate could plunge into me right that instant. Hey, the zipper was stuck, whaddya want from me?” She trembled reminiscently, and added, “And that’s why I’m gonna help you. ‘Cos you’d understand how I felt—and I’m gonna help you get covered, Lyra, we’re getting you laid. We’re getting you PRINCESS laid.”

Lyra’s lip quivered, and she teared up as Rainbow Dash reached awkwardly forward to hug her again.

“Now c’mon. The ninja-suit is back at the house. We can get you in it, and you can sneak into town and get your stuff before dawn if we move it…”


Dawn broke on Fluttershy’s house, and birds chirped curiously as two stealthy figures crept by, one small and one large. The small one levitated a bundle, an elegant saddlebag, and a lyre before her, and wore a black jumpsuit with three extra holes: two for wings she didn’t have, and one for another thing she didn’t have yet, but longed to seek out. The large one carried only a huge, dangling belly full of pony foal.

“I told you,” whispered Rainbow Dash, “we’re taking this route to avoid the main road! You took a big risk coming in that way. Trixie is not exactly subtle. She’s gonna be parading up and down the main road, yelling ‘you shall not pass!’. We’ll skirt around Sweet Apple Acres and you can head back to Fillydelphia, she won’t find you there. Give it a couple days for her to lose interest, sneak back to Ponyville, and throw a rock at my window, okay? Er—Applejack’s window. And, like, a pebble, not literally throw a rock through the window…”

As she said it, the two ponies were creeping under Fluttershy’s window—and the window opened, with a bang. Rainbow and Lyra squealed, clutched each other, and then fled off across Fluttershy’s lawn, over the little bridge and down the lane.

Pinkie stared out the window after them. “Hey, Dashie! Whatcha doin’?” She blinked, watching Lyra’s flight. That was almost certainly Dashie’s little black suit that she liked to wear while cutely stealing things—except somepony had ripped the crotch out, and it was most definitely Lyra’s adorable little vagina flashing in the breeze through the hole in the suit.

Pinkie’s ear flicked, her jaw dropped, and her astonishing tongue hung out and dangled lower and lower as she studied the minty-green tail flying in the breeze, and the once-sampled treasures below it.

Then, it touched something metal and cold, and Pinkie blinked and reeled her tongue in hastily. “Eep! Distracted by pussy!” She considered this, and a smile crept over her face, and she turned away from the opened window that let in breezes over a flowerpot, a screwdriver, and a magic bit that glittered more brightly on the end where the dust no longer settled, but where a bit of pony drool now glistened.

“Oh, Fluttershy? Are you awaaaake sweetie?”

From the bedroom, Fluttershy whined, “No! More sleep! Too early!”

Pinkie Pie smiled, imagining the adorable pout. Several different sorts of adorable pouts, actually—one on the face, one between the legs—and attention to one sort would wipe the other sort off her beloved’s face in the nicest way.

“I’ll make it worth your while!” cooed Pinkie, and stepped demurely up the stairs. Her audience awaited.


Scootaloo was wandering down the lane when she saw something odd—a motion near Fluttershy’s house, as if something had scurried out of sight. That was strange. She wandered closer, but there was no further sign of movement, and yet she had the feeling something was up.

A window was open, but it revealed nothing but the sound of snoring. Scootaloo wasn’t sure what would tire out Pinkie and Fluttershy so bad that they took a nap in mid-morning, but if they were napping and a window was open and something was skulking around the house, it might not be a good thing—so she trotted over the bridge, in expectant silence.

She went to her left, followed by a curious bunny that hopped lazily along after her, and crept around towards the back of the house, but there was no sign of anything there. But what if the thing had simply continued around and was now retreating across the bridge? Scootaloo turned, and trotted back, seeing nothing as the front yard came into view, but feeling a sudden motion behind her…

“HYAH!”

Scootaloo screamed a near-supersonic scream and shrank back against the house, against a windowsill and half embedding herself in some bushes, and stared up at… Trixie Lulamoon, who was brandishing a whip over her head in the firm grip of her magic, and glaring triumphantly down at her.

The triumph was short-lived.

“You! You’re not Lyra!”

Scootaloo trembled, cowering back, shaking her head.

The whip lowered. Trixie glared crankily. “You were supposed to be Lyra! Trixie has been hunting for her all night! Trixie glimpsed a motion on the road, and lurked, preparing her vengeance!”

Scootaloo could only stare in terror, but help was on the way.

“Trixie! There you are!” called Twilight, trotting across the bridge.

“Twilight!” replied Trixie, startled. “I’ve been…”

“No! I know just what you’ve been doing!” said Twilight. Her magic flared, and wrested the long whip from Trixie’s grasp. Scootaloo watched Trixie’s eyes widen, and then the blue unicorn cringed and cowered as Twilight cracked the whip—much less well than Trixie had—and caught her across the rump.

“You can’t take it on yourself to find her! She’s probably halfway to Neighpon by now, Trixie! She’s in fucking Stalliongrad, give it a rest! You’re coming home and going to bed—and I mean sleep—right now! Or I’m gonna give you a new cutie mark made of welts!”

Trixie squealed submissively, as Scootaloo held her frozen pose, reared up against the wall of the house and half-hidden by bushes. Twilight didn’t seem to notice Scootaloo at all. Her attention was on her recalcitrant marefriend.

“Move!”

The whip cracked again, and Trixie jerked and squeaked as it stung her quivering rump—and then she was running back over the bridge, with Twilight chasing her and crying “Hyah!” and cracking the whip after her. They stampeded down the lane into town—and out of sight.

Scootaloo gulped, her eyes still wide in terror, her back still against the wall of the house. Behind her head was empty space, inside the house—and she heard only one snore instead of two. Slowly she turned her head, expecting to see another grumpy adult right there yelling at her, because that would be so perfectly awful. She scrunched her eyes shut, bracing herself against the point-blank yelling she expected…

Pinkie Pie’s voice came from the upstairs bedroom, instead. “Twilight? Was that you?”

Scootaloo opened her eyes.

A slim metal cylinder gleamed before them, reflected in her stunned pupils.

Scootaloo stopped breathing for a moment, and her mind raced as never before…

“Twilight?” called Pinkie. She trotted sleepily downstairs, and looked out the open window. Twilight wasn’t there. Neither was Trixie, whose voice she’d thought she heard—nopony was there at all, but it was definitely noise through that open window that had woken her.

Pinkie hmphed, and seized the window latch in her teeth, closing it and shutting out any further disturbances—and turned to ascend the stairs and rejoin her mate in her nap.

Behind her, a flowerpot and a screwdriver shared the windowsill with an empty space.


“Come on, come on!” begged Scootaloo. “This is the most important thing ever and you totally won’t believe it!”

Apple Bloom’s jaw was set, and she narrowed her eyes as she glared at her friend. On Scootaloo’s other side, Sweetie Belle trotted unsteadily, her eyes a little glazed over.

“And ‘zactly what is that s’posed ta mean?” demanded Apple Bloom. “You breakin’ your word to me?”

“No! I swear I haven’t!”

“In th’ clubhouse, is it?”

“Oh yeah,” said Scootaloo, and ran ahead, clattering up the ramp and vanishing inside.

Apple Bloom stopped at the base of the ramp, and glanced at Sweetie. “I got a bad feelin’ about this…”

“She promised it’s not Applejack’s bit thing,” said Sweetie.

“Why do that not reassure me in th’ least?”

“Come on, let’s see what she’s got.”

They ascended the stairs, and froze.

“Ta-dah!”

It lay on a little cushion, in a sunbeam. Scootaloo stood to the side, grinning madly. Her wings stood up very much.

Apple Bloom took a deep, pissed-off breath.

“Consarn it, Scootaloo! I tole you and I tole you and I tole you, don’t even think about…”

“WAIT!” yelled Scootaloo, as if she’d expected this objection. “Hear me out!”

“You put that thing back right now!”

“It’s not Applejack’s bit, Apple Bloom!” declared Scootaloo.

That stopped the country filly. “Say what now?”

“It’s not Applejack’s. Or Rainbow Dash’s. Or Lyra’s, either.”

Apple Bloom stared at the thing, and gulped. “Wal, then… what is it? It look like one of them things.”

“It’s OURS. I got it from Fluttershy’s house. It was yucky with dust. Now it’s the Cutie Mark Crusader Penis! They don’t want it, remember?”

“Now, you wait a second…”

“Remember?” demanded Scootaloo. “You were right there, you heard her!”

Apple Bloom rallied. “We don’t want it neither! This is bad behavior! Who wants to see a Cutie Mark Crusader Penis?”

Sweetie Belle whimpered, her tail flicking. Apple Bloom gave her a very weary look. “Don’t even say nothin’, you…”

“Well, she does! She needs it, she’s sick!” objected Scootaloo.

“That don’t count as sick! More like some kinda pow’ful new stupid!”

“C’mon, we’ll put it back as soon as we’re done,” wheedled Scootaloo. “How many times have we borrowed stuff like that? Remember making the costumes for our awesome musical comedy routine?”

Hearing this, Sweetie focussed a little. “I remember Rarity being real mad at me because her roll of fabric fell in the water!”

Scootaloo folded her forelegs and glared. “This thing won’t care about falling in water! You can slobber all over it and it won’t care!”

Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes. “But… you ain’t. You’re jes’ leavin’ it set on the cushion. How come you ain’t holdin’ it, Scootaloo?”

“That’s another part of the surprise,” replied Scootaloo, smugly.

“Oh yeah? You playin’ a trick on us, Scootaloo?”

“Try it and find out.”

Apple Bloom glowered. “Nuh-uh! What’s your game?”

“I wanna see what it does to you, that’s what. And then we’ll all be in this together!”

Silence fell, as Apple Bloom and Scootaloo glared at each other. Sweetie gave another little whimper, but they didn’t drop their gaze.

“You’re startin’ to git stinky as well, Scootaloo,” observed Apple Bloom.

“Yeah,” smirked Scootaloo. “I told you that was another part of the surprise…”

“But you ain’t holdin’ th’ bit… it’s a fake! You are just messin’ with my head and insultin’ my sense of loyalty besides!”

“No fake, Apple Bloom. Try it.”

“No deal, Scootaloo! Ya can’t make me! I bet you weren’t even gonna put it back or nothin’!”

Scootaloo yawned, preparing her trap. “Oh, so now it’s real again? Maybe I can’t make you, but you know what you can make yourself, Apple Bloom?”

“What?” demanded Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo caught Sweetie’s eye. Both ponies trembled faintly, but Scootaloo’s smile grew more wicked by the moment.

“Apple Bloom, you can make yourself the new chicken!”

Apple Bloom gasped, and sat back on her butt. “You take that back!”

“Chicken…” Scootaloo glanced at Sweetie.

“Am not! You’re the chicken, Scootaloo!”

“Not any more! Not now that you are so generously being it for me—thank you, Apple Bloom, new chicken! Bok!”

“Bok,” added Sweetie softly.

“It ain’t fair!”

“Bok,” grinned Scootaloo. “B-gok!”

Apple Bloom’s eyes filled with tears even as she glared furiously back and forth between her very best friends. “You’re cheatin’! You can’t make me be the chicken on account of this, that’s cheatin’! It does not count!”

“Oh,” said Scootaloo, “all of a sudden it’s bad to be the chicken? Now you know how I felt! I’ve been, like, really good about it, all this time. But these wings? They’re pegasus wings, Apple Bloom, awesome pegasus wings. You’re the one who’s the chicken.”

Apple Bloom bit her lip, jaw clenched, for a moment.

“WHY are you doin’ this, Scootaloo?”

“Because we’re all in this together. Because Sweetie needs our help with her new grownup vagina. Because we are the Cutie Mark Crusader Baby Makers Project and Sweetie is ready to do her part, and we have the tool we need without taking it from Applejack after all. And because you can either be one of us as an awesome Crusader that dares to do awesome things—or you can be one of us as a chicken.”

Apple Bloom glared, tearful, and Scootaloo added, “It’s okay being a chicken, I promise. We’ll still love you! You have ten seconds to decide what you are. Nine. Eight.”

“It’s prob’ly a big fake!”

“Seven. Six.”

“…does it hurt?”

“Five. Four. Three…”

Apple Bloom lunged forwards, and bit down on the metal cylinder.

Her eyes bugged out, as Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle cheered.

“Yay! Lemme see, lemme see! What did it do?” demanded Scootaloo. “Is it as good as mine?”

Apple Bloom, looking stunned, rolled over on her side, and a pinky-beige noodle flopped into view. It had dangled nearly to the floor, and was pretty bulky, and limp as a wet sock.

“Cool!” said Scootaloo encouragingly.

“Th’s f’ls m’t’y str’nge, Sc’taloo…”

“Hey, I can’t understand you, you have something in your mouth! And something between your legs!”

“It w’s y’r ID’A!” snarled Apple Bloom.

“No, it’s great! Not bad. A little,” and Scootaloo cleared her throat, “wobbly. Though you might not think so now, but you’ll see.”

Sweetie blinked. “She’s not a CHICKEN…”

“D’ng str’ight ‘m n’t!”

“But the penis means she’s a boy,” said Sweetie Belle, “so does that make her… a COCK?”

Scootaloo screamed with laughter and fell over, and Apple Bloom spit the bit out and leapt on her, punching and kicking. “NOT! FUNNY!”

“No, stop,” begged Sweetie, “we’re sorry!”

“AH WILL SLUG YOU TOO!”

“Hey!” yelled Scootaloo, grabbing her friend in a wrestle hold to prevent her also slugging Sweetie. “Hey! You did it.”

Apple Bloom blinked.

“You did it,” repeated Scootaloo. “One of us! You don’t have to be the chicken, you came through with flying colors. And… ow… flying hooves. Thanks for that, Apple Bloom, my chin likes that a lot, every time.”

“Uh… sorry,” said Apple Bloom. She blinked at the bit, lying on the floor. “Dang. I did. I had me a penis an’ everythin’. Hey… if I ain’t no chicken, then does that mean you’re still our chicken?”

Scootaloo smirked. “Not for long. You’re gonna love this…”

“And you are just about as stinky as Sweetie Belle, just so’s you know. Mighta not noticed, that’s what friends are for…”

Scootaloo ignored her. She walked over to the bit with ceremony. Apple Bloom blinked, as Scootaloo’s little vagina had gone glisteny like Sweetie’s, and it twitched out in a freaky way as well, just for a moment. Scootaloo ignored that too, though she had to have felt it.

“Never mind the chicken, ladies,” said Scootaloo, “introducing—THE COCK!”

She bit down on the metal cylinder and promptly rolled onto her back as much as her shudderingly erect wings would allow, and Sweetie Belle swooned and fell over in a heap.

Scootaloo grinned like she’d pulled off the most amazing trick in the world, revelling in Apple Bloom’s and Sweetie’s stares. That russet-to-magenta penis was transformed. It had been a dangling, flopping thing, but this time it appeared carved from marble, glossy with aching, youthful hardness, surprisingly big—easily as big as the limp mass Apple Bloom had produced, but poking up stiffly and bobbing very slightly with Scootaloo’s heartbeat.

“Ch’ck… it… OUT!”

Apple Bloom gulped and inched nearer, her eyes wide. Scootaloo grinned insolently as Apple Bloom’s nose got nearer and nearer to the thing, as Apple Bloom raised a foreleg and sniffed the air…

“OW!”

Apple Bloom had whacked it with her hoof.

“W’DYA DO TH’T F’R?”

Apple Bloom was giggling. “To see if that there would happen! Thankee kindly!”

“YOU P’NCH EV’RYTH’NG!”

“Everything worth a-punchin’!” laughed Apple Bloom. “After all th’ times I done punched our Crusader chicken, did ya think I could resist punchin’ a cock?”

Sweetie was giggling madly. Scootaloo glared, but her grin couldn’t be repressed, and then she was laughing through her clenched teeth, and had got up and was frisking around with her friends in an outburst of relieved tension, playfully jumping up and grabbing their rumps.

“Whoa, hey!” protested Apple Bloom. “Whatcha doin’ that for?”

“We al’wys wr’stle!” grinned Scootaloo.

“Yeah but it feels like not the same! Maybe it escaped your memory but y’all packin’ a new toy there, and I ain’t ready to play them games! I ain’t stinky like you, missy!”

“W’ll, wh’t ab’t Sw’tie B’lle?” mumbled Scootaloo.

They looked over, to see Sweetie Belle standing and not frolicking at all.

Her rear hooves were set apart, and she looked panicked, panting, her eyes frantic with excitement and alarm.

“Hey, uh, ya alright there Sweetie Belle?” said Apple Bloom uncertainly.

Sweetie couldn’t answer. The sight of Scootaloo mounting onto Apple Bloom had hit her good and hard, and her legs wobbled and threatened to give way. Apple Bloom wandered over, and recoiled.

“Dang, Sweetie, y’all gone positively thunder-stinky!”

Scootaloo caught the scent, and stiffened. She sauntered over to Sweetie, erection swinging rigidly beneath her. “I’ll h’ndle th’s, m’m. H’lo, l’vely l’dy, h’ws ab’ut living h’re often?”

Sweetie’s stunned look was disrupted for a moment as she tried to parse that sentence. “How’s about living here often? That doesn’t even make sense!”

“I h’rd s’mepony s’y it in a b’r!”

“You’re not even allowed to go in bars!” objected Apple Bloom.

“So?” challenged Scootaloo, trotting in place, penis bouncing stiffly under her. It slapped her belly, and her eyes widened for a moment. “W’oah!”

“What happened?” asked Apple Bloom.

“I’m n’t sure but it f’lt am’zing! I’m g’nna do it ag’n…”

Sweetie Belle squealed shrilly, and the other two froze. “Sweetie?” said Apple Bloom.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to stand!” squeaked Sweetie. “How am I supposed to stand, how do we do this, is it gonna hurt?”

Apple Bloom glanced at Scootaloo, who wrinkled her brow in an expression of concern.

“Well now, happens that maybe we don’t have to do nothin’…”

Sweetie squealed again, and Apple Bloom winced. “Ow. Y’all takin’ this a mite too serious-like…”

“I kn’w wh’t to do! I th’nk!” said Scootaloo. “I h’ve to lay h’r to w’ste, l’ke Rainb’w D’sh!”

“An’ what’s that supposed to mean?” snapped Apple Bloom, and turned to Sweetie, who’d taken a deep breath. “No! No more high pitch screamin’!”

Sweetie made a feeble squeaking noise, her eyes crossing.

Apple Bloom glared back and forth between her maddened, frantic friends. “Y’all got no idea what you’re doin’, do ya? NO idea!”

Sweetie began to cry, her hindlegs shaking and her little vagina winking with hysterical rapidity. Scootaloo glared back at Apple Bloom and said, “D’nt st’nd in the w’y of the awes’meness!”

“Do ah have to fix everything? Fine, let’s do this an’ then we are puttin’ this thing back where it come from and goin’ out for ice cream! ‘Cos you are creepin’ me out, you guys! Scootaloo! Jump up on Sweetie there!”

Scootaloo didn’t need any more encouragement. Snorting with eagerness, she reared with madly flapping wings and grabbed onto Sweetie’s trembling rump.

Sweetie gave a little shriek, began to pant and jump around and toss her head, and then before Scootaloo could do anything, Sweetie’s hind legs flashed out in a kick that caught Scootaloo in the belly and sent her tumbling, bit still clenched in teeth, stiffened cock jutting into the air.

“H’Y! WH’T W’S TH’T F’R?”

“Whoa there, Sweetie! Changed your mind?”

Sweetie shook her head frantically. Her vagina winked harder and dripped lube onto the floor. She squealed earsplittingly for just a moment, caught herself, and emitted a strangled squeak as she repressed it.

Apple Bloom looked stunned. “Well all righty then… aw sweet Celestia preserve us, this is a pickle an’ no mistake. Sweetie! Lay down, so you can’t kick none, we’ll try it that way! Whoa, Scootaloo, whoa!”

Scootaloo had bounced to her hooves, and fire was in her eyes as she tried to mount Sweetie’s shaking body again. Apple Bloom threw forelegs around her and dragged her off. “No! Let her git fixed for it first!”

While Scootaloo paced hectically, chin high and haughty, Apple Bloom turned to Sweetie again. “Lay down, sugar, you jes lay down real nice an… aw, th’ heck with it,” she said, and bodychecked Sweetie instead. The white unicorn filly went over with a shriek, her balance affected by the hormones that rendered her dizzy and crazed with desire. She struggled to get up, but Apple Bloom was already hugging her and holding her steady.

“That’s it, we got this, Crusaders kin do anythin’ if we do it together… Scootaloo! Y’all move in now. I reckon you stick the dick in that crazy flappin’ flower! Go easy, I dunno if th’ goo is slippery or more sticky, your thing done looked pretty dry…”

Scootaloo bent down to eyeball Sweetie’s vagina, which was awash with ooze, and her wings stood bolt upright and vibrated. She made a croaking noise and clambered onto Sweetie, who shoved her butt up against Scootaloo’s belly with a squeal…

“Whoa, whoa!” screamed Apple Bloom. “Y’all fixin’ to go in th’ wrong place!”

Scootaloo’s cock was ramming Sweetie’s butt-cheek, alarmingly high up, and had thumped her between vagina and anus. Apple Bloom blanched, and frantically reached out with a forehoof to try and guide her best friend, who normally wasn’t… who normally wasn’t AS MUCH OF a slavering idiot-beast, into her other best friend, who normally wasn’t as much of a shrieking pile of hysteria.

Her hoof directed the cock, as Scootaloo’s hips thrust hungrily, and just as she drew in a breath to yell at Scootaloo to go slow… it was too late for the warning.

Scootaloo’s cock rammed aggressively against Sweetie’s vagina, and with a dreadful wet squelch, it squeezed right into her and kept going right up to the medial ring—and Sweetie let out a single guttural shriek like Apple Bloom had never heard. It was weird, because it sounded painful, but at the same time it totally sounded like the terrible, incomprehensible seriousness of the grown-ups doing it.

Apple Bloom’s jaw dropped for a moment, as she watched Scootaloo hunching her hips and watched that cock shoving deeper and deeper into Sweetie, bulging her vagina out to the sides around it, glistening with her juices. Apple Bloom gulped, awed, watching Sweetie’s body clench onto the thing in great heaving clenches—and then realized that Sweetie had stopped shrieking, and panicked.

“Oh rotten apples…”

She scrambled clear and rushed around to the front so she could see Sweetie Belle’s face. Sweetie’s tongue lolled, and she was drooling and her eyes looked dazed, but they moved and met Apple Bloom’s.

“Aw, hell, Sweetie, you okay?”

Sweetie’s eyes kept going out of focus. “Ohhhh… yes, oh yes, YESSSS…” She seemed utterly possessed by the experience, barely able to pay attention to Apple Bloom right in front of her face while Scootaloo’s cock thumped her cervix and jolted her, shoving her small body forwards a bit with each thrust.

Apple Bloom sat back on her haunches, out of her depth. “Wal, shit! Sorry… I mean, uh… ya likin’ it, huh?”

“Agggg…” drooled Sweetie Belle. From behind her came squelching noises, and whimpers from Scootaloo, as if Sweetie’s slipperiness was nevertheless eye-poppingly tight.

“Oh my goodness,” breathed Apple Bloom. “Uhhh… I reckon maybe I’ll be goin’, seem like y’all fixed for now…”

Sweetie fought her way back from what seemed mind-melting realms of raw sensation. “Noooo! You need to uhhh! do the thing!”

“Whut THANG?”

Sweetie tried to fix Apple Bloom with a stare, though she was reeling from Scootaloo’s increasingly eager motions inside her. “Like Rarity said! Um I mean ngaaah! Rainbow! Dash!”

Scootaloo snarled exultantly through her bit, “I’M l’ke Rainb’w D’sh! L’yin it d’wn! Rrrrh!”

Apple Bloom trotted in place, fretfully. “Whaddya mean?”

“Th’s! ‘s! so! ‘wesome!” squeaked Scootaloo, bucking her hips into unicorn vagina.

“Not you! Sweetie, what?”

Sweetie’s eyes rolled back in her head and her horn glittered. “Nnnhhh! You haveto! Bite her wing! Like we aaahhh! saw Applejack do! Ohmygosh, ohmygosh, ahh, ahhhh!”

Apple Bloom gulped. “Aw, ya got to be kiddin’…”

“Do it!” moaned Sweetie, as Scootaloo’s hard cock plunged deep into her slippery tautness. “You have to! Or it’s wasted, no babies!”

Scootaloo slowed up, and looked concerned. “Wait, wh’t?”

“Well… all right…” said Apple Bloom.

She moved in behind Scootaloo, who still thrust into her liquified friend, but looked around fretfully and said “H’y! Y’re n’t s’posed to…”

“It’s only fair,” said Apple Bloom. “Sweetie did what you wanted. Ain’t like I haven’t grabbed your wing before, Scootaloo!”

Scootaloo’s eyes were wide and alarmed. “B’t… th’y feel so weird…”

Her wings were bolt upright, quivering, the feathers bristling out in a way Apple Bloom had never seen. Her hips couldn’t seem to stop moving, and Apple Bloom heard Sweetie moaning louder and louder and took a moment to look at the disaster area between Sweetie’s legs, marvelling at the outlandish sight. It was the same cute unicorn filly bottom as ever, the same pert vagina, but it seemed so different bulged out to the sides around a big penis. It tried to wink even though it was stuffed to bursting, and Sweetie’s muscles kept tensing, clutching at it in an eerie way like her body just grabbed the thing in fits without asking. From the sound of it, Sweetie Belle was past talking coherently. She’d gone to a place the country filly couldn’t understand. She sounded like Rainbow Dash that one time—something in her wails and moans resonated. Every thrust sunk her deeper into that state.

Apple Bloom wrinkled her nose at the ooze and glistening mess and stinky grownup scents that nearly took her head off with their intensity. She sighed. So nasty. It prob’ly would come and get her too, in the end.

But for now, she was damned if she was gonna let Scootaloo make a whole baby-makin’ plan, get them in trouble, make this big a mess, and not follow through.

She rose up, and looked Scootaloo in the eye. “Don’t be a chicken, this was your dang idea an’ you know it. Anyway, Rainbow Dash carried on somethin’ fierce from doin’ this. Hol’ still!”

Scootaloo couldn’t stop the hunching of her hips—and couldn’t move her wings, for they were so erect they were frozen in place. She just bared her teeth around the bit and her eyes went very wide as, in seeming slow motion, her bestest friend’s mouth opened, came forward, and closed upon…

Apple Bloom had never seen the like, even from the grown-ups.

Scootaloo’s wing shank was hot like a fever, but Apple Bloom barely registered that before the shrieks just about ripped her ear off. Scootaloo’s little body went stiff as a board, and then thrashed, her head bucking in violent spasms, cock throbbing hugely and spurting into Sweetie Belle, who ripped Apple Bloom’s other ear off with one of her supersonic shrieks that just went on and on agonisingly—and then, before Apple Bloom’s eyes, Sweetie’s horn flared and spurted a stream of raw magic all over the wall, where it splashed and left smoldering marks and set fire to a Rainbow Dash poster Scootaloo had put up. It bounced back and splashed onto the Crusaders, and Apple Bloom screamed and let go of Scootaloo’s wing, scrambling back. Scootaloo was screaming too, tears in her eyes, but it didn’t seem to be about the magic burning her, it sounded like the grownups again, like she was being wracked by something too big and overwhelming for her little body, and for a moment Apple Bloom could only look at her two friends locked in that obscene, carnal pose, horrifyingly adult passions transforming them into ponies she’d never seen before…

Sweetie’s horn stopped spurting, and her head dropped. As it did, Scootaloo flung the bit violently to the side, making it bounce off the wall even as the last ashes of her poster fell to the floor. Sweetie sprawled bonelessly as the penis yanked out of her and vanished away—and Scootaloo tried to lunge at Apple Bloom, murder in her eyes, but fell flat on her face, so wrung out she couldn’t walk, her cheek smushed against the wood floorboards of the clubhouse.

“I hate you, I hate you!” she sobbed. “Never, never… Rainbow Dash said to never…”

Sweetie wriggled feebly, and then called out from where she was spread like a puddle on the floor. “No, Scootaloo!”

Scootaloo stopped trying to drag herself towards Apple Bloom’s throat, and listened.

“She had to… do that to… make a baby… remember?” managed Sweetie. Her whole body was quivering and limp, and she couldn’t even lift her head.

Apple Bloom stared at her friends. “Are you guys… all right? Dang…”

Sweetie Belle’s smile, even though it was pressed against the floor, was radiant. “Oooooh…”

Scootaloo was far from all right. Her face twisted as she said, “Why’d you have to… why? It was so good… then way way too much… and I promised I wouldn’t, I promised, I… haaaaaaah!” She began to bawl, unable to rise.

Apple Bloom chewed her lip in dismay, and then rushed forward to hug Scootaloo—though she took pains to not touch her wings, unsure whether they’d been left painful to touch. They sure looked like wrecks, there was no question about that. She hugged Scootaloo close.

“Y’all can just kill me a lil’ bit then, ‘cos then I got to get both of you safely home an’ cleaned up to boot…”

Scootaloo sobbed miserably, not even trying to fight, and Sweetie Belle began determinedly trying to crawl across the floor. Her hind legs were still quivering puddles, but she dragged herself with her forehooves and reached out to Scootaloo as well. “You did it!”

Scootaloo sniffled, looking tragic, and allowed Sweetie to join the hug—Apple Bloom gathered her in as well. Sweetie still had that dazed, satiated look, and Apple Bloom wondered if it’d ever wear off—and what it took to end up looking like that. It was dauntingly creepy and fascinating all at the same time.

“You were my wonderful stallion,” said Sweetie Belle earnestly. “And you did everything right, we did everything they said. We’re going to have baby foals!”

Apple Bloom blinked in astonishment. “Whut, ALL of us?”

Sweetie shook her head weakly, and nuzzled away one of Scootaloo’s tears. “No, just me. I think. Unless what Pinkie Pie said, means that Scootaloo is going to have foals too?”

Scootaloo’s eyes widened. “Oh, no way. No way…”

“Ah don’t think so, Sweetie,” said Apple Bloom thoughtfully. “I reckon it’s them what gets poked in, gets th’ foal. That would be you, in a big way. Dang, Scootaloo, you do lay it down, don’t ya? Is that what layin’ it down is?”

Scootaloo’s lip quivered, and she looked tragic. She glanced at where her Rainbow Dash poster had been, and she teared up again. “I… guess.”

“Our foal is going to be beautiful,” crooned Sweetie Belle.

“What’ll we call it?” said Apple Bloom. “For that matter, what’s it gonna look like?”

Scootaloo gulped, and put on a determined look. “Crusader! Duh!”

“I’m a unicorn girl,” said Sweetie. “It will be a beautiful unicorn foal.”

Scootaloo wiped her nose, and objected. “I’m totally a pegasus! I would make a pegasus from sex, what else?”

Apple Bloom scratched her head. “Gosh. That would be useful, havin’ another pegasus around. It kin carry stuff, hammer in nails too high for me to reach…”

Sweetie glared at her. “It’s a unicorn! I’ll share my milkshakes with her and let her drink as much as she wants, even if it’s more than half, without complaining. Though as a responsible mommy unicorn I have to warn her you can get brain freezys from drinking too much ice cream too quick.”

Apple Bloom nodded uncertainly. Something seemed funny about the idea of feeding a baby milkshakes, though it seemed logical enough. “Wal, it’s both of you made th’ baby. Maybe it’s a unicornasus?”

Scootaloo scoffed. “Wings come first! Call it a pegacorn.”

“Or…” said Sweetie Belle, and her eyes widened. Then, the others’ eyes did likewise.

“Oh, horse-apples,” said Apple Bloom, weakly. “We done made us a Princess Celestia inside Sweetie Belle. We are gonna be in so much trouble…”