Sometimes, thought Lyra, it really was a lot of trouble keeping an old mare on the job.
Lyra bit her lip, teeth baring in half-feigned pleasure as Bon Bon’s tongue explored her pert vagina. She wasn’t that worried about being convincing: things had settled down, somehow, and they’d come to some sort of unspoken agreement. Bon Bon hardly even argued anymore.
It seemed so strange. How did an older mare, who had once been the light of her life, descend so far? Had it always been her imagination? Once, she had glowed in Bon Bon’s adoration, allowed her body to be played on like it was some sort of instrument—her spring-green, radiant flanks, her petite nubs of breasts, her small excitable marehood, all worshipped by her earth pony lover. Bon Bon had been everything: first sexual experience, provider of a home, though Lyra had insisted upon paying half the bills, and did it, too, a lot of the time…
Bon Bon had been her world, and she basked daily, enclosed in that world.
And then, the magic bit had arrived, and brought with it a thunderbolt of erotic pleasure, and opened up a whole world that Lyra could see from within her Bon Bon one—and she grew restless and voracious and began to make demands, only to find that demands were unwelcome.
Lyra’s thoughts roamed, even as Bon Bon’s mouth closed over her trim vulva and that tongue began to work away at her labia, tucking between, trying to coax the blossom to pout and swell eagerly as it had once done.
She’d always had the fetish for magic. It seemed obvious, it just didn’t enter into things that much, until the magic bit turned up. That was when Lyra realized she didn’t match Bon Bon nearly as well as she’d imagined. The foolish darling seemed to get nothing out of being penetrated by Lyra’s magical stallion form! She had one big thing, and that was eating young mare pussy, and she stubbornly clung to that no matter how Lyra tried to dress up bit-oriented activities. It had been all right back when the only false penis available was a hideous wooden earth pony thing, but now that they had an amazing magical tool available, it maddened Lyra to see it scorned.
At least Bon Bon seemed resigned to her new duties. It’d been very hard to teach her.
Bon Bon’s eyes were closed as her tongue explored, and for a moment she looked strangely vulnerable and sad, which was an overtone to the lovemaking that seemed weird to Lyra—a dark undercurrent from unknown sources. For a moment, Bon Bon’s head moved with longing tenderness, making love the way she used to do, back when Lyra knew no better and innocently exploded in ecstacy at the touch of her loving tongue.
Lyra, no longer innocent of her options, reached out with her levitation and readied the magic bit for the second act.
Bon Bon’s eyes opened, forlorn and dreamy—and saw Lyra’s eyes looking down on her with their calculating look on full display, saw the floating bit held in Lyra’s magic—and Bon Bon froze for a moment, and then shut her eyes against the sight and dove in hungrily, filling her senses with unicorn pussy, so passionately that Lyra gasped and shuddered. Oh, she did have skills, that Bon Bon. There was something about the raw conviction of it—she’d heard from Rainbow Dash that Pinkie Pie also shared that madness for cunnilingus, perhaps it was some flathead thing to want to weld your mouth to the vagina of a magical creature and drive her to orgasm. Pegasi didn’t squirt magic, but all the same they were magical creatures of a sort, thought Lyra.
And then, Bon Bon had pulled back, wearing an odd expression that seemed hurt and determined and yearning all at once.
“Okay,” she said, and shifted forwards, stretching her neck out and seizing the bit before Lyra could even float it down and place it in what was sometimes a rather unwilling mouth.
Bon Bon bared her teeth around the bit, at Lyra, but somehow without the usual crankiness. There was something valiant about her, like she was dedicating herself to the cause of making this one special.
“Come f’r me, Heartstrings,” she said, and Lyra gasped—she hadn’t used that bed-name in some time.
Then, the swollen head of Bon Bon’s magically induced stallionhood pressed against Lyra’s thoroughly warmed-up unicorn vagina, and Lyra’s eyes rolled back in her head—and coherent thought was abandoned.
It penetrated her boldly, hungrily, wedging into her snug confines with a delicate slurp and an even subtler wet noise as it thrust into her quivering body. Lyra gasped, wrapping her legs around her lover, tail flicking in jolts of pleasure. Bon Bon was so ungentle, her solid earth pony body heaving against Lyra, dull earth muscle contracting effortlessly to drive magical stallion-meat deeply up unicorn vag.
Lyra felt overwhelmed in a delicious way, a renewed taste of the erotic flavor they’d once shared so easily: she was the magic, the precious flower blooming in arousal, and Bon Bon was the solid and dependable anchor, the irresistible force of appreciation, forever devoted. It had lent character even to the oral sex they’d always enjoyed, but once the magic bit entered the picture it had gone up a level: Lyra wondered if part of her thrill was thanks to the stolid impact of that slightly dumpy earth pony body, the heavy muscular denseness of her, the ability to make Lyra feel like a tiny fragile jewel in her grip. Bon Bon had always been stronger, and it had always been a turn-on, and turning her into a stallion had been strangely perfect.
For a moment, Lyra imagined Bon Bon as purely an earth pony stallion, and though it heightened the sense of faint degradation Lyra admitted to, it also packed a kinky wallop not to be denied. Lyra bared her teeth in a silent whinny of horniness, imagining a big heavy solid earth pony cock plunging so entitledly into her. There was something so carnal about it, and the way Bon Bon moved made it so easy to imagine.
And though she knew it was a phallus of pure magic—indeed, unicorn-made magic—that plumbed her, Lyra’s curious mind fixed on the fantasy, and found it good. Bon Bon sweated, hips pumping with tender force, thrusting the fat stallionhood within her lover, and Lyra gritted her teeth, clinging on for dear life as Bon Bon got into it, reeling in sensual thrill as her dainty vagina took a pounding—and in Lyra’s mind, she imagined Bon Bon a full earth pony stallion, grunting in animal passion and rutting his lovely unicorn mare.
He’d have seized her, perhaps flung her to the ground and leapt hungrily upon her—she’d have been shy and conflicted, longing to get physical and yet hung up with her ever-present worries and her dreadfully busy mind that always raised so many objections and criticisms of any action or thought she had. She’d have been in one of those states, thought Lyra, the world vibrating with indecision around her, expectation and decorum and doubt conspiring to freeze her into a tense, miserable unicorn of woe.
And Bon Bon as an earth pony stallion would have ignored all that and grabbed her, becoming erect, smelling of the fields, seeing right through her and responding only to the goadings of her marehood, scorning her rationalizations. She would not have objected, but her beautiful golden eyes would have been a frantic question, her body trembling, poised between mad arousal and the restraint of her well-trained mind.
He’d have answered that question with a grunt, a cloddish pout as if understanding that Lyra’s concerns occupied a higher plane—and then he would move anyway, his whole body doubling up irresistibly, and his thick heavy earth pony cock would wedge into her and shove deep, possessing and transfixing her with a single confident thrust.
Lyra writhed, squealing a breathy soprano squeal, for even as she wallowed in such thoughts, Bon Bon kept on humping her. For all practical purposes, the fierce and sullen gaze that transfixed her was that very earth pony stallion, the snarl of lust around the magic bit in Bon Bon’s teeth was the crude hunger of his heedless appetite, and Bon Bon’s body did indeed double up irresistibly in a climactic series of powerful, bold shoves, thrusting thick heavy pony cock to Lyra’s ultimate depths with breathtaking sureness…
Lyra screamed. She thrashed her head around, and Bon Bon didn’t let up for a moment, understanding her lover’s peaks and strange needs, driving her mercilessly over the edge with no quarter given to lastminute fuss or reservations—and then, Lyra bucked and shook under Bon Bon, emitting a sharp squeal as a blast of magic shot from her horn and knocked the bedside table over, tearing a small hole in the wall behind it.
Bon Bon grunted, extending Lyra’s shrieking release by responding with a series of shudders and spurts of magic-come into her frantic, spasming depths. Lyra thrashed, imagining great goopy blobs of earth pony semen gushing into her unicorn womb, and blasted the top off one of the bedposts with another orgasmic magic discharge.
They hung, poised, for a moment, as the peak subsided.
Bon Bon sagged, counting the damage. It had been a while since Lyra’s orgasms had been that intense. She peered down at Lyra, whose eyes stared vacantly, whose tongue lolled.
“You okay, heartstrings? Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. You have work…”
Lyra shook her head, some of her calculating look coming back. “Totally. Mmmh… totally okay. Oh, yeah… good job, sooo fucking hot babe…”
“You don’t look totally okay. You could… stay home?” Bon Bon gulped, looking alarmed with herself that she’d said it, like it was a very big deal—but Lyra wasn’t responding.
“No way. I can go to work, it’s not that big a deal. I better get going! I’ll be late, and you know the overtime I’ve been working. Hey—that’s good, right? I think I owe you towards the house and bills and stuff.”
Bon Bon sagged more.
“I wouldn’t worry about it,” she said, not meeting Lyra’s eye.
She rolled off Lyra, who tried to jump to her feet and trot off, but only sprawled in a limp unicorn heap on the floor.
“Oh, now, Heartstrings, please!”
“I got it!” insisted Lyra. She forced herself to her hooves, staring back challengingly at Bon Bon from bright eyes which sported dark circles underneath. “It wasn’t that intense. You gotta try harder, alright? Can I have another round tonight? Since it’ll be a long day at the office?”
Bon Bon looked away. “But… it was good. Wasn’t it? I mean, with the table and the wall and the bedpost, it had to be good, huh?”
Lyra considered lying and understating things—for a moment.
“It was really awesomely good, yeah.”
Bon Bon looked up. “I’m glad. Seriously, I am. Off you go, Lyra.”
Lyra bridled for a moment, but she knew that look. Bon Bon wore the truculent look that said she’d become a brick wall, a look that had slipped for a moment but was back in place. There was no sense demanding more sex yet. She’d just have to start again after work and see what she could get. The earth pony stallion fantasy called—it had been obscenely arousing, and Lyra wanted seconds, and thirds—but she knew better than to admit it.
“Later!” said Lyra with feigned insouciance, and she trotted unsteadily off, wobbling but lifting her hooves high in a show of spiritedness and health.
Bon Bon watched her go, and didn’t move until she was out of sight.
Once out of sight, Lyra went “Whoo!” and staggered onward, smugly, on shaking hooves.
Bon Bon sighed and turned to inspect the blast damage.
“Hey!” called Rainbow Dash, trotting down the lane.
Applejack blinked, startled. “Look at you! Sky ain’t good enough for ya, sugarcube?”
Rainbow trotted up and nuzzled her lover. “Oh, it’s still great. I just wore myself out cloud-herding, that’s all. Can you believe it?”
“Afraid so,” said Applejack, kindly. “You are gonna have to go on leave at some point, y’know. Remember when we talked to that nice Cloud Chaser about it?”
“Sure,” said Dash. “Oh and check this out—one of the other signs is starting to happen. I stood on clouds today and I barely sink in at all now! My pegasus magic is definitely ramping up. It’s the weirdest thing. I can kick clouds twice as well as I used to, now, but all I want to do is curl up on them and nap…”
“That’s new,” teased Applejack, nuzzling behind Dash’s ear.
Dash snickered, and admitted, “Yeah, it’s a special talent, all right.”
“Maybe your cutie mark is a cloud to nap on. How’s your tummy? Any better?”
Dash winced. “It’s not fair! I love your fried hay-cakes for breakfast, I’ve always loved that stuff! I used to eat just horrible junk and what you cook is healthy, I know it is!”
“That ain’t the point,” said Applejack, stubbornly. “You can tell your body those things all you like, and it’ll still be strict with you until your foal is born. An’ some types of rain ain’t popular with anypony, darlin’.”
“I told Carrot Top I was sorry,” protested Dash. “Shouldn’t she get over it?”
“Give her time,” said Applejack.
“Anyway, as much as I hate to admit it, having just uncooked alfalfa for breakfast kinda worked. I wasn’t sick at all. Now that I’m home, though, I’d like a big stack of…”
She trailed off, seeing Applejack’s face, and spluttered, “Oh, come on!”
Applejack shook her head. “I reckon you should be stickin’ to the diet that keeps you healthy. No deal, Dashie. I ain’t settin’ you up to be sick. How do you know you’d even get it down?”
“Well, I… yeah. All right, then, you can be stuck on the same diet with me!”
Applejack’s eyes bugged out. “Now see here, I ain’t the one who’s…”
Rainbow Dash hit her with a deadly pout and the big cute eyes, and Applejack blinked rapidly.
“Uh, I, uh… yeah, okay. Sheesh. All right!”
‘Thank you,” said Rainbow. “For the meals we share. Okay?”
“I already said it was, din’t I? What about when I’m on my own? I shouldn’t be sayin’ this, I’ll regret it—but ya lookin’ for moral support there?” Applejack gulped.
Dash shook her head. “No. I ask so much of you already…”
“Aw, it ain’t nothin’, heck if it would help…”
“No! Keep in practice for when I can eat good food again, okay? Rarity told me I should pick my battles, and besides, I have something else to ask of you,” said Dash.
Applejack’s ears quirked sideways anxiously. “Givin’ you good advice, is she?”
Dash nodded. “Her and Twilight are really interested. Trixie, maybe not so much. It’s funny how some ponies are super interested and others don’t want to hear about it.”
“Ain’t too surprisin’ how tight we got with Pinkie an’ Fluttershy. They’re livin’ the same life, jes’ about. I never dreamed it would be that way, they’re like part o’ the family now.”
“Yeah! I think with Twilight, she wants to study everything. Rarity? I don’t know, she’s just taking it so seriously. Fluttershy says she’s a big help to her, as well. Do you think Rarity is living out our pregnancies… vicariously?”
Applejack blinked, and Dash hastened to explain, “That’s what Twilight said, it wasn’t my way of putting it. She means, it’s like Rarity is pregnant through us, without having to be pregnant herself.”
“Sounds convenient,” said Applejack.
Dash laughed. “Yeah, right? She can carry this thing around for a while. Speaking of which…”
“You needed me to do somethin’ for ya?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…” Dash looked around and then whispered, “Could you rub my wing bases for me?”
Applejack grinned happily. “Ain’t no wrong way to take that…” she said, moving closer.
Rainbow Dash smirked, and whacked her with a forehoof. “Not here! We’d better go inside. But listen—I know what you think and you’re totally right but I meant it. Not just my wings, not pleasure spots, Applejack. I said wing bases. Cloud work was tough ‘cause I’m really heavy now. My wings hurt.”
“Awww! Come on then, I will straighten that out. Uhh… ONLY wing bases, honey?”
Rainbow’s smile was fond and wicked. “Mostly. As long as those cramps melt—I won’t complain about what else you melt. How’s that?”
“Step right this way. Bed’s a-waitin’ and your darling is at your disposal.”
Rainbow did, stretching her wings out wincingly as she walked. Then she folded them, and stepped closer to nuzzle against Applejack and whisper.
“Some pleasures, I still get to have…”
“All of the above, then?”
Rainbow nuzzled against Applejack’s neck. “Mm-hmm.”
“Pegasus-meltin’, it ain’t jes’ a job, it’s a calling,” said Applejack.
Rainbow Dash looked cranky. “Oh, it’ll be a job too. My poor wings!”
“You’ll be sayin’ THAT again by the time I’m done with you,” teased Applejack, and Dash blushed happily and trotted ahead.
Into Sweet Apple Acres without breaking stride, up the stairs, into their bedroom at nearly a canter: Applejack kicked the door shut with a bang, as Rainbow Dash leapt up onto the bed with an automatic burst of wingpower to lift her.
“Fuck! Dammit! Ow!”
“Oh, Dashie!” cried Applejack. “Is it bad?”
“What does it look like?” grimaced Dash, glaring back at her beloved, and then gradually sprawling onto her belly, on the bed.
“I, uh, maybe you shouldn’t do that…”
“ChillAX, Applejack—I asked Granny Smith. She said if I can stand it, the foal can.”
Applejack looked uncertain. “Ya sure? It’s been a while since she was at that rodeo…”
“Just rub my back, please? Look, I’ll do this, how’s this?”
Rainbow Dash got her hind hooves under her, and cerulean rump lifted to poke invitingly in the air, chromatic tail flicking about like a waved flag.
Applejack stared. “Heh. Bribery, now?”
“Oh yeah,” smirked Dash.
Applejack moved in, climbed up onto the bed, loomed over her mischevious pegasus. “First things first, darlin’. Let’s see what we got here.”
Rainbow’s wings were arched up in what would normally appear a joyous, aroused display—and perhaps there was some of that present, for she smelled lively and eager, but the strain in her neck revealed other motivations, and Applejack’s exploring hooves quickly found the culprit. Dash’s wings were cramped up, the muscles at their base tense like rock.
It was a little awe-inspiring. Applejack wondered what a pegasus would make of the experience, as she began to work. Those wing muscles were standing out everywhere, odd bulges and contours alien to an earth pony’s body, but probably capable of dropping a pegasus at twenty paces from just the sight of those rippling, sensuous flight muscles. Applejack put her weight into her work, trying valiantly to get through the tenseness…
“Aw, honey, you’re cryin’?”
“Don’t stop! Don’t you dare ahhh! stop!”
“Heh,” replied Applejack, as she continued her efforts. “You jes’ let me know when you’ve had enough…”
It wasn’t in words that Rainbow Dash sent her message—nor was the message ‘stop’, exactly. Applejack heard Dashie’s squeaks and yelps gradually turn to moans, and felt that pegasus body begin to soften, and Dash’s wings began to flop about more loosely under the kneading hooves, and then to wave in that familiar way, top coverts folded coyly and wing bases lifted, feathers a little ruffled as if to say ‘nibble me’.
Applejack knew this was the most lewd display imaginable—for a pegasus. She glanced at the door (still closed) and the window (nopony watching, thankfully), for she knew that Dashie didn’t react well to being observed at these moments, and though it was adorable to see the supposedly wanton pegasus sex-object blush scarlet and try to hide her face, it wasn’t a game to Dash: to her, wing-play was a touchy subject even before she’d got pregnant by it.
But, since they were private…
Applejack leaned forward, still kneading Rainbow’s wing muscles and back—and licked up the shank of Dash’s right wing.
Rainbow Dash shuddered, and let out an “Ahhh!” as Applejack continued to nuzzle and lick—panted, staring at the wall, waiting—and then, a soft breathy wail seduced its way into the air, for Applejack’s mouth had closed around Dashie’s wingshank, Rainbow’s cue to surrender entirely to her mate’s lovemaking.
Applejack’s eyes were lidded sensuously as she tenderly munched the hard, fluffy limb—it was always kinda amazing what it did to Rainbow when you did that, she thought—like striking her with fuck-lightning or somethin’. She knew that Rainbow had gone scandalously wet, tail flicking madly or twitched to the side, cerulean vulva pouting ecstatically for what a pegasus body knew was the other half of the getting-pregnant equation. Dash hadn’t slacked off on that stuff at all, if anything she seemed to be getting hornier as she went on.
Applejack let go, not wanting to make assumptions. Dash might want oral, or more wing-rubbin’. Pregnant Dashie required more and more careful treatment, lest she fly off the handle, so Applejack risked one possible sort of flying off the handle to guard against misstep. “Sugar—jes’ checkin’, do y’all want dickin’ now?”
Rainbow turned her head and stared in disbelief. “You’re joking, right? Do you have any idea, any idea how I feel right now?”
“Naw, that’s why I’m askin’…”
Rainbow Dash squeezed her eyes shut, biting back several harsh, impulsive remarks. “Let’s just say… yes. Since you ask and all. Why yes, I would love some.”
Applejack hesitated no longer. She hopped off of Dash, rushed to the bedside table, opened the drawer and lunged for their magic bit, as Dash watched approvingly, wriggling her bottom and flicking her tail.
“That’s the way! C’mon… yes…”
Applejack jumped back into the bed, grinning around the bit, a magically-induced erection jutting out from under her, and mounted Dash again.
“Yes, yes! Oh gosh Applejack yes…” squealed Rainbow Dash, shuffling her rear hooves against the bedspread, feeling her lover’s body position itself against her…
A cheerful wet noise was masked by a hoarse squeal of obscene delight, as Applejack firmly and lovingly thrust her stallionhood into Dashie’s treasure.
Rainbow gritted her teeth, her ears laid back in savage bliss, pounding her forehoof on the bed. “Ahhh! Yes! Give me! Uhhh!”
Applejack moaned around the bit, and let Dashie have it, hips hungrily working that stiffened shaft within pegasus vag that seemed a molten squeezy pit of slippery pegasus butter. It made no sense and seemed plain impossible, but there was no denying it: pregnancy made Dash hornier, and sex had gotten ridiculously good. Applejack knew from oral sex that Dash’s vagina pouted harder, got juicier, just generally flung itself into things with more abandon—and when it came down to sprouting a magic stallionhood and getting busy with it, the sensations were not to be believed. It wasn’t just textures and heatedness, either, not just the writhings of Dash’s pony rump as the cock slid deep, it wasn’t even the soul-shaking guttural cries of sexual delight… or just possibly it was all of those things… but as Rainbow Dash lost the svelte, athletic figure and filled out into a mother-pegasus, she somehow tapped into a mareliness that hit Applejack like a brick, and made her dizzy with lust and appreciation.
Rainbow panted and wailed, her legs shaking as Applecock plunged joyously into her, and perhaps it was the natural effect of her heightened sexiness, but things had become more explosive, as if pregnant pegasi needed to blow all their corks in a hurry and turn to snuggling quick while they were expecting. Rainbow didn’t know why and didn’t care. Hard-pressed to have any coherent thought, she jolted into a convulsive series of squealing orgasms that clenched onto Applejack’s cock so frantically that her lover, grunting in pleased surprise, unloaded in a volley of spurting throbs that drenched Rainbow’s vagina in temporary, magical stallion-come. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and her legs gave way under her, and she sprawled onto the soft bed, still rocking and jolting in witheringly potent orgasm…
“Uh… uh, hey! Dashie! Y’ mustn’t!”
Rainbow tried to gather her thoughts, though she was one big come-filled glow.
“Git up, please, s’gar!” came Applejack’s voice.
Rainbow blinked, and shook her head a bit, understanding. She’d sagged into a pegasus puddle, and she was lying on her belly. She felt wonderful, and her belly felt wonderful, and her vag oh my gosh, but her beloved didn’t feel wonderful—Applejack was frightened, because she was lying on her belly. It had to be that.
Without hesitating, Rainbow struggled to get conscious control of limbs that felt a thousand miles long and filled with liquid love and cuddles—and master those limbs, limbs that insisted everything was fine, so she could lift herself up and soothe her wonderful mate’s distress. For a moment, she could only squirm, but she fought to get hind-hooves under her—and her pegasus ass lifted, even though Applejack still penetrated her and rendered her body too full of pleasure to move. Dash moved anyway, only because Applejack needed her to.
“Ghhh…” she gasped. “There! It’s okay, baby, it’s okay…”
“Ya sure?” said Applejack, who was awkwardly trying to hold herself above Dash while still snuggling her. “What should I do?”
Rainbow quivered. “Now roll me over… easy, easy… ngghhh!”
As Applejack toppled her over to the left, Rainbow’s legs fell closed, and squeezed the stallionhood even harder. She bucked, kicking weakly, crying out from a few final orgasms, reeling as the weight of her leg bore down and squeezed her intimate places around Applejack’s cock—and then Applejack’s foreleg had shoved a spare pillow down there, and they wedged it between her legs to relieve the pressure.
Rainbow Dash heaved great, shuddery breaths, as Applejack nuzzled her mane and grinned around the bit, that irresistible cowpony glint in her eye.
“Dang, honey, y’all g’t better an’ better. How y’ do that? Is it some pregn’nt thing?”
Rainbow stared at nothing, in a daze, a huge grin on her face and her tongue hanging out. “Hgggg…”
“That a yes?” teased Applejack. “Don’t hold b’ck. How’m I s’posed to know if it were good f’ you?”
At that, Rainbow began to laugh, a deep joyful laugh projected through her scratchy little voice, and she closed her eyes and nestled back against Applejack, who reached out a forehoof and caressed her body in adoration and awe.
And, then, alarm. Rainbow chortled, with a fresh wave of benevolence, but Applejack flinched and spat her bit out, the magical cock slurping out of Dash and disappearing. As she’d fondled Dash’s belly, it had moved. The foal had flipped and kicked, very obviously.
“Oh Dashie, the hell? I keep forgettin’…”
Applejack’s eyes were wide and panicky. “Tell me I din’t bust somethin’, please, Dashie!”
“You didn’t,” crooned Rainbow. “Don’t be silly. I’d know if you did. I don’t break that way, Applejack.”
“But… it kicked!” managed Applejack, with a gulp.
“Settle down,” said Rainbow, dreamily. “You’re not fuckin’ HER.”
“Her, him, whatever. Spy. Spy’s fine in there.”
Applejack’s ears were back in dismay. “Fine ‘cept for gittin’ beat about th’ head by…”
“It doesn’t reach, you silly stallion-girl,” crooned Dash. “Get used to it.”
Applejack retorted, “Like he—or she—should get used ta being spooged on? It ain’t right!”
Dash wriggled, and looked back over her shoulder at Applejack with a weary, affectionate look. “That doesn’t reach either. And if it did, there’s a thing called a placenta, remember? And that stuff disappears anyway when you drop the bit. Settle down! Everything is wonderful—shared with you.”
Applejack, caught off guard, teared up. “Aw! I’m sorry. I jes’ can’t help but fret about it sometimes. An’ he kicked, I swear it. Or she did—whichever.”
“Which would you rather it should be?” asked Rainbow.
“To be sharin’ a marehood with my frickin’ magic penis?” said Applejack, her ears back. “I reckon either way has a special kinda disturbin’ all its own!”
Rainbow laughed. “Oh, Applejack! Think of it this way, all right? If she—or he—feels half as good as I do right now, I bet it’s doing her good. You’re Spy’s father. Your body is as much a part of her as mine is.”
“Thought you said it was my spirit that makes up part of th’ foal,” objected Applejack.
“Well then, all the more reason to get your body in there too, right? Don’t fuss so much. Talk to Granny Smith—she’s been helping me out a whole lot. How much have you been talking to her?”
“Nothin’,” admitted Applejack. “Feels weird when it ain’t me bein’ pregnant an’ all.”
Dash considered this. “I guess I can see that. She does seem to think it’s funny… but you should talk to her. I have a feeling when it comes to grandchildren, all the rules go out the window.”
“Ah’m a grandchild, remember?”
“So, great-grandchildren then. Just talk to her!”
Applejack sighed. “Will do. I promise. How ya doin’ there, you comfortable? Want another pillow under your hooves?”
Dash flicked an ear, making a face. “Actually—no. I was for like three seconds, now I wanna get up again. Do you mind?”
“Naw. You just tell me whatcha need, and you got it, sugarcube.”
Rainbow leaned back and kissed Applejack, and then began wriggling to get up, and with gentle assistance regained her hooves and walked demurely downstairs, for dinnertime was approaching. They settled Rainbow on the couch, propping her up with pillows, and Applejack began readying dinner, making a pot of tea and trying to do her best with simple hay and salad recipes, for she’d be sharing dinner with her pregnant mate, whose stomach wouldn’t stand more interesting fare.
“Hi, Rainbow Dash! Hi, Applejack!” called Apple Bloom, trotting in the door. “Hah ya doin’?”
“Great, kid!” said Rainbow. “How’s it going with you? How was school?”
“School was good!” said Apple Bloom.
“You learn lots of good things?”
Apple Bloom looked thoughtful. “Pretty much. I wish they taught us more things!”
“Yeah? Like what?” said Rainbow, while Applejack’s eyes widened in alarm and she shook her head subtly.
Apple Bloom perked up. “Like this!” She turned to Applejack, smugly, having had the perfect opening for the long-awaited question. “Applejack, big sister of mine, did you really make a baby foal inside Rainbow Dash?”
Applejack blushed, and she looked away. “Uh… kinda…”
“Meanin’,” said Apple Bloom, “…maybe you din’t a-tall?”
At that, Rainbow Dash’s head snapped up. “She did! Don’t even joke about that. She did, she totally did. It’s true.”
Apple Bloom turned to Dash. “But HOW did she do it?”
“She did it…” began Dash, and then her eyes twinkled. “…well. Very well.”
“You cut that out, ya shameless thing!” protested Applejack, blushing some more. “Anyway, it’s complicated…”
“No,” said Rainbow Dash with unexpected sharpness. “It’s not. It’s not complicated at all. They need to understand that’s your foal. It’s your spirit with mine, honey. To a pegasus that’s the main thing.”
Applejack went misty-eyed. “Awww…” she said, and nuzzled noses with her Dashie, swept up in a tide of sentiment.
The tide didn’t budge Apple Bloom, nor did the sentiment sway her, for the stubborn filly still hadn’t got an answer to her question: only more obfuscation, as far as she was concerned. “Hmph. Y’all hidin’ stuff from me.”
“You jes’ ain’t old enough, squirt,” said her sister gently.
“Oh, and you think you’re so special, makin’ foals and everything! Ya got Granny Smith all payin’ attention to you, and it ain’t fair. An’ you won’t even answer a simple question! If I was makin’ babies I wouldn’t be so stuck up about it!”
Applejack blinked at her little sister. “Your body won’t let you, honey.”
“My SISTER won’t let me, more like…”
“Naw, honest,” said Applejack, “we can tell. You got no idea how this stuff works, it ain’t nothin’ but words to you…”
“All right!” cried Rainbow Dash, in mock indignation. “You want to know how to make foals? I’ll tell you!”
Applejack gasped, but Apple Bloom whirled, instantly attentive. “REALLY?”
“Yeah, sure,” said Dash, fighting off a smirk.
Applejack’s ears laid back, and she shot Dash a warning glance, but there was no restraining the post-coital, bliss-soaked, mischief-loving pegasus. Applejack glowered and went to pour a cup of tea, shaking her head.
“First,” said Dash, “I want you to come here. Put your hoof on my belly, around here, and keep it there for a minute.”
Apple Bloom did, eyes wide, and Dash thought, come on, Spy, do your thing…
“Oooh!” squeaked Apple Bloom. “He kicked!”
Dash nodded. “That’s so you understand—that foal is from me and Applejack. Got it?”
Apple Bloom nodded, awed. “But how…”
“Well if you hush up maybe I’d get a chance to tell you! Now listen close. First, part A, you need an earth pony…”
“Ah’m an earth pony!” said Apple Bloom, excitedly.
“I mean a big pony,” said Dash, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
Applejack glared, but Apple Bloom was irrepressible.
“I am so a big pony! Granny Smith said so!”
“Well, all right then!” said Dash. “Then, part B, you need a pegasus…”
“Scootaloo is a pegasus!” said Apple Bloom. Applejack’s expression soured further.
Dash tried desperately to fight off her smirk. “Now remember this is important, part C is you need a lot of love…”
“Ain’t nopony has more love than us!” insisted Apple Bloom. “We’re jes’ filthy with it!”
“Oh, that’s parts F through W,” said Rainbow Dash, as Applejack’s eyes widened in shock. “Especially part P, which is a Penis…”
Applejack had had enough. “Now see here!”
“Keep tellin’ me!” begged Apple Bloom, glancing in alarm at her big sister.
“Don’t you dare, Dashie!” demanded Applejack, but there was no stopping Rainbow.
“So you have parts A and B and lots of C, right?”
“Yeah!” cried Apple Bloom. Rainbow Dash took a deep breath, as Applejack prepared to unleash a storm of objections.
“Then you insert Part A into Part B so you can C what your V J can do for U! It’s easy when you know how!”
“Rainbow Dash!” yelled Applejack, but it was no good—Dash had burst into hysterical laughter, and Apple Bloom was bouncing up and down with excitement.
“Ya promise it’s true? Ya promise?” she squeaked.
“You know it’s true!” laughed Dash, as Applejack fumed.
“Consarned troublemaker pegasuses,” snarled Applejack, and took a big gulp of tea—at the worst possible moment.
“Cutie Mark Crusader Baby Makers! YAY!”
Applejack sprayed tea across the room, and Dash shrieked with laughter and fell off the couch.
There was a moment of total confusion where Applejack wasn’t sure whether to rescue Dashie or give her a smack, and by the time she’d rushed over and begun lifting her pregnant mate back onto the couch, Apple Bloom had rushed off. Applejack yelled after her departing sister, “Apple Bloom, you git back here this instant!” but it was no use—her little hooves could be heard galloping away, and they seemed to fade into the distance beyond hope of shouting.
“Oh my gosh, can you believe it?” spluttered Dash. “Epic!”
“Ya can’t say shit like that! Rainbow!”
“Aw, come on!” pleaded Dash. “That was nothing she didn’t know before. I heard Granny Smith telling her to go watch the farm animals. And I didn’t tell her a thing about wings, and it totally wouldn’t work for them anyway! Calm down. I was just having fun! I’m sorry…”
Applejack gritted her teeth, and took a deep breath. “Y’all havin’ fun with my little sister!”
“Um,” said Dash. “I guess, yeah. I’m extra sorry?”
“Ya should be. Heh! Where th’ hell did you get all them letters, anyway?”
Rainbow hung her head. “It just came to me. It was a joke. I’m extra triple sorry. With nuts.” She looked mournful, but couldn’t repress a giggle.
Applejack, in turn, couldn’t repress a smirk. “Hah. You are nuts. Crazy pegasus.”
“Yeah but I’m YOUR nuts.”
“Impossible, my nuts come outta this magic toy we got hid in my dresser drawer.” Applejack blinked. “Exceptin’ they don’t. How come that thing don’t make nuts? It makes a penis, don’t it?”
“Beats me. Why the gasp? I don’t see how it matters one way or the other. Not for how we use it. Unless you want to get kicked in them?” said Dash.
“No, sir. I seen what it do to th’ stallions. And whaddya mean, gasp? I din’t gasp!”
Rainbow Dash looked earnestly at Applejack. “Seriously, though—don’t worry about the kids. Not one of that bunch is hitting puberty and they aren’t hanging around with colts. I’m sorry I made a joke out of it, but you shouldn’t make it out to be a big secret either. All that does is make them more curious…”
Applejack hung her head. “Mebbe so. I din’t mean to yell at you, darlin’. I jes’ love my lil’ sis a whole bunch and don’t want nothin’ bad to happen to her.”
Rainbow Dash put out a hoof to stroke Applejack’s neck. “Get her a pegasus doll or something. Let her pretend she’s a mommy. It’s cute.”
“Not as cute as you really being one…” said Applejack, softly, and they kissed, Dash’s eyes closing trustingly.
Just outside the door, Apple Bloom stopped eavesdropping, and slunk away in complete silence. Once her hooves reached soft grass, she began to trot, then gallop, toward the clubhouse.
On the way, she passed Lyra returning home very late, but Apple Bloom had been rebuffed by Lyra once already, and didn’t give her a second thought.
Lyra trotted up to Bon Bon’s doorstep, already planning what to say.
She wasn’t the only one. Bon Bon stood in the doorway—and didn’t move aside.
“This is not gonna be easy, Lyra,” she said.
“What? Sweet-treat, what is this?”
In answer, Bon Bon turned aside, picking up a basket, setting it down in front of Lyra. It was full of bits, high denomination bits—and, on top of the pile, there was one more bit.
The magic one.
“Please go. I can’t take it anymore. It’s not just that it hurts me—you’re hurting yourself, and I can’t be around for that. This is your full equity in the house. That should set you up somewhere… that isn’t here.”
Lyra looked down at the basket, and then looked up again, eyes full of hurt and shock.
“I won’t say it was easy,” said Bon Bon resignedly.
Lyra stared, frozen. She bit her lip, kicked a forehoof. Bon Bon didn’t budge.
“You found another pony, didn’t you?” said Lyra. “Like you found me.”
“I think you should leave,” said Bon Bon, bowing her head.
“You found another unicorn filly,” hissed Lyra. “I got too old and I wouldn’t do what you want, and you’re ditching me, just like that. You found somepony younger. Didn’t you?”
“This isn’t the time to…”
“DIDN’T YOU?” screamed Lyra.
A shape moved behind Bon Bon. A voice spoke, and Lyra froze again, shaking her head in horrified disbelief.
“Younger than her, it’s true—though you might not believe it,” came the voice, the very familiar voice. “Not, however, younger than you.”
From the shadows, Mayor Mare walked up to stand beside Bon Bon, fixing Lyra with a stern look.
“In fairness to you, Miss Lyra, the manipulation of your work hours shall cease immediately. It is very much up to you whether you feel you can continue, though I shall have to watch carefully for signs of revenge. That will not do…”
Lyra struggled for words. “It… you… if you think for a moment that I would lower myself so far to continue to work for your filthy, flathead, treacherous…”
“I see,” said Mayor Mare, unimpressed. “In that case, I can only say that it’s as well we stopped this when we did. You are perfectly correct that we have been less than honest with you—it grew out of the larger, untenable situation. We’ll say that you left at your own request through no fault of your own—no work fault, at any rate.”
Mayor Mare’s eyes narrowed at that last remark, suggesting that she found fault with Lyra’s personal life, if not her work life.
Lyra was speechless, as Mayor Mare turned to the side, picked up another basket from behind the door, and placed it before her.
“That’s how sure I was that you’d blame everypony but yourself,” said the Mayor. “There is your severance pay, plus I’ve included double overtime for every single hour you spent chasing numbers I knew wouldn’t add up. That was beneath me, Miss Lyra, but now it’s over. To be honest, I should have confronted you before this, but Bon Bon wouldn’t let me.”
Lyra stared helplessly. Not at Mayor Mare—not at the alarming politician mare, who had never been vague about figures after all, who concealed an inconvenient youth by dying her mane and tail grey, who had slipped in and formed a bond where none could be allowed to exist. Not at her.
Lyra stared at Bon Bon, whose gaze back was tragic, somehow pitying, strangely resolute.
“Take care of yourself, Lyra,” said Bon Bon.
Suddenly, Lyra was filled with rage like never before. “Don’t you mean H…”
She stopped, because the instant Bon Bon saw the direction that sentence was going—the instant she saw that Lyra was about to fling that pet name, ‘Heartstrings’ in her face—Bon Bon’s anger flared up to match her own. Lyra had never seen it that bad. It took her a moment to work out what Bon Bon meant, why the glare had stopped her—and then Bon Bon confirmed it.
Bon Bon swallowed some of the rage, and spoke carefully. “Don’t you dare say that name in front of Mayor Mare, when I’m giving you the courtesy of not telling her about it.”
Mayor Mare drew herself up, not pompously but sternly.
“You should leave, Miss Lyra. That money would keep you in a hotel for a year—you shouldn’t spend it that way but it’s yours so do what you will with it.”
Bon Bon was shaking her head, bitterly.
“Goodbye, Lyra. You weren’t observant outside your figures and numbers, but you’ve got a real gift for those. Be well.”
She nudged Mayor Mare back, and the Mayor dipped her head, stepped back out of the doorway. Bon Bon stepped back as well, swinging the door closed. For an instant, Lyra was filled with a vision of herself charging forward, savagely striking at both older mares with flailing forehooves…
The door clicked shut.
The bolt slid home.
When Lyra finally turned to walk, dazed, into town, with her money and her magic-bit toy, she was still too shocked and hurt to shed a tear.