“Maybe if I can peek for just one moment?” said Hina fretfully. “Surely I can do these things! I must try again.”
As it wasn’t Shirley she was talking to, but Big Macintosh, the response wasn’t nearly as encouraging as she’d hoped. Big Macintosh’s ears laid back in dismay as the Kirin opened her sense-of-ambient-evil to Ponyville yet again… only to cringe back whimpering yet again in pain and fear. He watched this in dumb misery, his heart breaking for her, and tried to work out what to tell her.
“Kin you peek for a half moment?” he suggested.
Even as he said it, he wished he hadn’t. She burst into tears, and he reached out and snuggled her to him, out of suggestions for soothing her, and alarmed at what she was claiming.
“You reckon it’s that bad, huh?” he said, helplessly.
Hina sobbed, trying to answer. “H-how can it be this much worse? I have to heal this small town! How many more vampires can there even be?”
“Um,” said Big Macintosh. “Ain’t sure how to answer that one, Miss Hina. Except to say maybe it ain’t about vampires anymore. Ya think it’s vampires?”
“I don’t know!” sobbed the Kirin, nuzzling his neck as his hoof stroked her mane. “Could many ponies turn to terrible evilness?”
“Depends how y’mean, I guess,” said Big Macintosh. “Sometimes this town is a lot for even Princess Celestia to handle. It all turns out okay in th’ end, don’t it?”
“What is that, an anal sex reference of some sort?” sniffled Hina.
“Hey now!” protested Big Macintosh. “First of all, no it ain’t, and besides I thought you din’t mind such carryin’ on!”
“I’m sorry!” squeaked Hina. “I am not myself. My powers are weak. So terribly weak…”
Big Macintosh frowned. “Does comin’ here change you? Like, once you get into Ponyville you ain’t as powerful as you were back in Neighpon? You know, when you went around fixin’ everything and makin’ all the ponies better, with your Kirin friends?”
She gave him a tragic look, and just when he was about to apologize for the suggestion, Hina leaned over to whisper into his ear. Her voice was softer, and even the rhythms of it seemed different, as if she’d fallen back on some more intimate communication.
“But I didn’t,” she said. “I didn’t, Big Macintosh. The older Kirin did that. They… they wouldn’t let me do it.”
“They what now?” said Big Macintosh, surprised.
She snuggled against him, a forlorn look on her face. “Coming here was supposed to change me. The older Kirin suggested it. I just know I was meant to prove myself! How could they have sent me on a mission doomed to failure? Or even,” she sniffled, her lip quivering, “death? It is proper for a Kirin to die defying great evil. But it’s too soon! Is it fair to say it’s too soon? I… I don’t want to end, yet.”
“Aw, sugarcube!” protested Big Macintosh.
“How could they want me to be destroyed?” said Hina, plainitively. “I love them still. But I don’t understand!”
“Whoa back there, lil’ darling,” said Big Macintosh. “This cain’t be right. Ain’t you one heck of a powerful magic-pony? Er, or whatever it is you is? Never did see a mare who couldn’t wink. But whatever you are, we’re gonna take care of you. It’s gonna be okay, ma’am. It’s all good.”
“No, that’s not right!”
“Ah’m sorry!” said Big Macintosh. “I know you ain’t prop’ly a pony. You’re a lil’ like them critters from Cervidas. Or if a goat was, y’know, more sexy-like. Sorry! Din’t mean to offend.”
“It’s not that!” cried Hina, looking tragic. She glanced around, and then whispered to him again. “I’m not powerful.”
“Could’a fooled me,” said Big Macintosh. He blinked. “Some of your bits are gosh dern amazin’. Does that count?”
She shook her head. “I mean, not as a Kirin. Look at me! I can’t even open myself to the moral atmosphere of this town, much less conquer its evils.”
Big Macintosh looked at her with that oddly innocent gaze. “Um… dependin’ on what you call moral, ma’am, this town might be a little rich for your blood…”
“I’m not talking about that!” argued Hina. “Neighpon can be sexually adventurous too! There’s even some things the older Kirin kept me away from, back in Neighpon. I mean, the really powerful ones, so wise and sophisticated, aware of so many dimensions of reality. They see things a young Kirin like myself cannot perceive. They… they said I wasn’t ready for that jelly.” She frowned, looking sad. “I saw no jelly, and did not understand them then. I am not earning my way into their company now. I’m not succeeding. I remain inadequate, even now, and my mission is failing.”
“Will it make ya feel better to do some sexual adventurin’?” asked Big Macintosh. His hoof stole lower, began to fondle her trim body. “You keep talkin’ about what you’re asked ta do, about a mission. Well, my lil’ sister who happens to be also our Boss Mare, she gave me a mission too. She wants me to make you feel better. Kin I give that a try?”
Hina trembled. She stretched against him, almost writhing sensually against his insistent touch, her face that of a mare giving way to longed-for but wicked seduction.
His hoof reached down between her legs, encountering no nipples on the curious, gestation-less creature… but beginning to massage her so-sensitive vagina.
“No!” wailed Hina, and Big Macintosh stopped instantly.
“Ah’m sorry. Does it feel bad? Mind you, Braeburn, he says don’t put no conditions on a no. He’s a good pony for all that he jumps on everything from weatherponies to waiters. I was only askin’ cause I wanted to know, ma’am, and that’s a fact.”
“It’s not that,” said Hina. “Look at me! Failure to combat evil. Wallowing in pony dick! It’s not that I don’t want it. I don’t deserve your loving! You are wonderful and powerful, and what am I?”
“Well, now, see here,” said Big Macintosh, wriggling as he tried not to prod her with his half-erect cock. “I think you’re a sweet thing, and sexy as all git-out, and what do you mean? Don’t you understand we’re tryin’ ta give you strength?”
She turned, and stared at him in astonishment. “You have it backwards. That is my solemn duty. At which I’m failing.”
“Do you really think you got to wipe out all our evilness in this crazy town before you deserve a fuckin’?”
Those huge, luscious lashes blinked. Those glorious sky-blue eyes gazed into his, innocently.
“Yes,” said Hina. “What use am I, otherwise?”
Big Macintosh stared back at her, realizing she meant it. Then, he began to chuckle.
“Heh, heh, heh…”
Hina actually blushed. She thwapped him gently with a hoof. “Oh, you! Yes, I know my pussy feels good, that’s not the point, you lovely big earth pony! I’m talking about my responsibilities.” She nestled back against him, allowing his hoof to explore her body again. “Hmph. You keep making me feel better and I haven’t earned it. I don’t know why I’m not sensing that as wickedness.”
Big Macintosh blinked. “Maybe because you’re tryin’ not to sense anythin’ much right now? You keep sayin’ it hurts you when you try.”
Hina winced. “Yes. I’m so off balance I’m not even talking to you with respect half the time. My syllables fall clumsily and wrongly. I suppose it’s pointless now.” She sighed, closing her eyes and nestling between his body and his caressing hoof. “My words, respectless… fall like lifeless autumn leaves… sans the green of life.”
“You’re a strange critter,” grumbled Big Macintosh. “So all you care about is talkin’ perty and you can sense just fine?”
Hina’s eyes popped open. “No! I wish I could, but I just can’t! It feels like there’s an even more evil vampire here plus more than one ordinary pony who ought to be good but are steeling themselves to commit terrible crimes! Or something even more confusing and bad than that! I can’t tell if you’re wicked because I can’t even open my mental eyes against the glare!”
“Easy! Easy now,” soothed Big Macintosh. his petting continuing its leisurely tempo. “At least you tried!”
“So what?” sniffed Hina, inconsolable. “That’s the problem. I’ve been trying. It didn’t work. I… I think I’m going to die, fighting this…”
“And th… that’s not what Kirin are for!” managed Hina, her lip quivering desperately, and then she began to weep helplessly, her body strained tight in Big Macintosh’s sheltering embrace.
Big Macintosh’s lower lip stuck out in a pout, his brow furrowed as he patiently cuddled his weird lover, letting her cry it out, racking his brain as he tried to make sense of her plight. It took all the time she gave him: his thoughts didn’t prance like pegasus ponies at the best of times, they plodded as industriously as he did, and just like he did, they had a boner. He set that aside as best he could, because as near as he could figure there was nothing so wrong with it: but all the same, despite what he’d learned from Braeburn, this time he knew he wasn’t going to be able to fix things with just a hip-thrust.
When Hina quieted, he was ready.
“Ma’am… you’re as plumb crazy as us ponies!” he said, and her eyes widened.
Her lips opened. He kissed them. They closed, but she gazed at him, vulnerable, completely surprised at his contention. Before she could argue, he hastened to explain.
“Near as I can tell, Miss Hina, you figure goodness gotta be earned!” he said. “You are behavin’ like you got to do all the good things before you can have kisses an’ fuckin’ and all that good stuff. You’re talkin’ like your old Kirin back home sent you out here to die, and how kin that be? That’s crazy talk, ma’am! Ah put it to you that you ain’t understandin’ your world right.”
The dainty alabaster lips opened. Then closed. Hina kept looking at him with those huge, lustrous eyes, but she was speechless for a change.
“I don’t know what’s happening out there in Ponyville,” said Big Macintosh. “I reckon us ponies will work it out, though! We always do. An’ I’ll tell you something else. I tried to earn goodness from my ole Granny, once upon a time. And she tried to earn goodness from believin’ in me. And then I discovered a fine stallion name of Braeburn, who’s lovely an’ wicked an’ kind and just about all of my whole heart, and me an’ Granny fought over him an’ set out to wreck all the goodness we had. An’ of course now I’ve met you…”
“I don’t understand,” said Hina faintly. Her heart pounded, and she whiffed of sexual excitement. It seemed Big Macintosh wasn’t the only one aroused by deep, intense, earnest emotion and intimacy.
Big Macintosh shook his mane. “Naw! You sure ‘nuff don’t, Miss Hina. Look around… or, well, I’ll tell ya, ‘cos you can’t look right now. Me and Granny, we’re full of love again. Braeburn, he moved to town. I showed Granny the perty apron Braeburn got me, and she weren’t even mad. You know somethin’? I had this teacup, real girly fussy teacup, Pinkie Pie busted it. I had it on account of Braeburn, he liked his Princess drinkin’ tea out of such a perty girly cup. Well, you know who gave us, I mean gave me, that cup? Granny did. Ol’ Granny gave us that prissy teacup, and it ain’t because of jes’ makin’ me happy. Granny gave us that there teacup because she knew it made US happy for me to have it…”
He gulped, his eyes tearing up for a moment.
Hina bit her lip, tenderly, and ventured, “What do you mean?” Then, she gasped, for Big Macintosh’s deep luminous eyes had seized hers and wouldn’t let go.
“Goodness IS,” said Big Macintosh.
She couldn’t respond, but he didn’t need a reply. He gulped again, and went on as if his life depended on it.
“Miss Hina, goodness IS. It’s a part of you if you let it. You don’t have to go prove nothin’, you don’t have to fight all the whole world. Settle down. Relax. Let yourself be loved, stop runnin’ around trying to fix everything. Then goodness, it’ll come easy. Can’t you see? Goodness is. You can be a part of it. An’ you’re about the most beautiful creature I ever saw, an’ maybe that stops me from thinkin’ straight but Ah swear to you, you are here to love, not to die.”
She couldn’t even breathe. The intensity of goodness emanating from the sweet huge gentle earth pony… and the wisdom, the deep Kirinlike wisdom… had her stunned.
“Ah love you, Miss Hina,” said Big Macintosh, earnestly. “Please, please love yourself enough to pipe down for a spell. Stop thinkin’ crazy. We’re gonna be okay… and you’re gonna be okay.”
And with that, both earth pony stallion and dainty Kirin gave way to sobbing, weeping, clinging, hugging, clutching at each other like they were drowning in a sea of emotion. Wriggling around to hug face-to-face, pressing together, squirming and trembling and breathless and…
“Love me,” panted Hina, dry-humping Big Macintosh’s thick erection as it thrust between their bellies. Or, rather, wet-humping, painting its shaft with the magical lubricants of her quivering pussy. “Please! Please, love me, please…”
He shifted his hips far, far back as she trembled expectantly. He nestled his thick flare against her unwinking, elegant little nook. He pressed, lovingly.
Hina’s lips parted in an O of ecstacy as Big Macintosh tenderly penetrated her, so slow, so deliberate. He knew her, remembered with the attentiveness of a lover who’d learned from Braeburn. But the bravado, the panache of Braeburn wasn’t the least bit present.
Instead, that shocking bulk just pressed deeper, his body huge between her legs and steadily looming, dipping to nuzzle her radiance as her mane flew like flags of victory, luminous with magic but not a sparkle of static as she basked in his aura.
Big Macintosh panted like a great bellows as he slowly entered Hina, her crotch a shocking topological improbability: unreasonably pert and trim like a small alicorn Princess, but transfixed by a monstrous horsecock, and all the while she gazed up at him in awe and delight with her lips parting in a soundless cry of joy.
And he went to the hilt in her, stretching her absurdly wide, and dripped tears on her face as he gazed down upon her, drinking in the sight of this precious lover, all his in her moment of defeat and surrender, letting him soothe her hurts, sheltering her with his massive body. She’d melted away completely… he curled her legs up and nudged still deeper… he gazed imploringly at her as if he could lend her a heroic backbone by inserting a massive stiff horsecock right through most of her quivering body.
Hina seemed to understand. She reached up to his sweet, earnest, earth pony face, and even as he nudged deeper and just about rubbed his groin against hers, even as her magic kicked in to protect her from his outrageous girth and length… she caressed his cheek with a silken, cloven hoof, the swirling magic aura of her Kirin fetlock untroubled by the slightest hint of interference.
And she reached up, wrapping forelegs around his barrel, wrapping hind legs around his waist, nuzzling under his chin, her silken glowing tail wrapping around his mighty hock, and Hina-rin gave herself completely to Big Macintosh in utter erotic surrender, her heart pounding madly.
Big Macintosh gave a little sigh… and began to fuck her like it could last forever.
At first, it was a mere nudging, while buried to the hilt in her elegant Kirin body. His testicles pressed softly against her pert rump. Hina gasped, revelling in every single sensation he brought, whether it was hot horse balls lovingly and teasingly nuzzling her bum, or the eye-widening sensation of his flare rammed up against the extreme depths of her Kirin-pussy and pushing hungrily. Her magic kicked in a little more, allowing her more stretch, but it literally took her breath away since she could barely inhale.
Big Macintosh groaned, his embrace tightening. His cock stiffened still further.
Hina nuzzled him feverishly, curling her hind legs back around her ears and giving him all of her, throwing caution to the wicked winds of Ponyville. If her doom awaited her, let it come like this! Let her body be ravaged by an inflamed, maddened plow-horse until she expired from the battering. A glorious, incredibly erotic and kinky doom!
He wasn’t following that script, though: or, if he was maddened, his reaction to it was a little different. Even as Hina melted under him, angled her pelvis to be more easily plumbed to ruthless depths, licked his neck in a frenzy of sexual intensity, Big Macintosh launched into his own frenzy in his own way.
Shuddering, hard as a pillar of rock, tearing up with strong emotion, Big Macintosh made something between sweet love and rich butter. His seething groin right up against Hina’s little crotch, the Kirin all curled up in a lewd pose that begged, nay screamed to be pounded with plow-horse force, everything pulling him to get fierce and physical, Big Macintosh did things his way. He could feel that Hina’s tight slick little pussy wasn’t quite going to fit all of him: she’d softened and stretched amazingly, but there were inches to spare. His body shook with the desire to just shove with all his might, to hilt her and assert his authority over her, crotch ramming against her butt, pounding hungrily against this incredible creature, this delicious trembling love-puddle herself begging him for fierce, epic screwing. He was flooded with the shared desire to push way too far, and he knew Hina was out of her head and craved exactly the same irresponsible mare-pounding finale.
And so, he didn’t.
Weeping with pleasure and strain, throbbing so hard it hurt, Big Macintosh worked his hips back and forth and slid his monstrous erection back and forth between about halfway out, and fully in to his Kirin’s ultimate pussy-depths. Not once did he shove, or ram, or even thump: instead, his swinging testicles pressed gently against Hina’s little rump, over and over, never to scrunch against her in a mare-damaging shove.
Hina shrieked a curiously melodious squeal of joy as the huge stallionhood swung so carefully into her again and again… clenched at him in a wild pinch that made him whinny sharply… and then she was insensible, orbiting Equestria on a ride that blasted her into the sky higher and higher until she didn’t even know who or where she was.
And Big Macintosh clung tightly to her as she melted into a wildly shuddering and shaking pile of Kirin goo, another puddle of goo dripping around her tail as she came and came and came around his steadily plunging bulk, and he hung on for thrust after thrust, marvelling at her stamina…
And Big Macintosh flooded Hina with earth pony come, his body drenching her… and, remembering her curious anatomy, he drew back just a little and allowed his mind-blown lover to feel that sensation. The little charmer was built quite literally for pleasure, and was very proud of that. One more thrust would squirt his whole load out as his cock left no room in her at all. He didn’t make that thrust, he just gazed down into her eyes as the frenzy of Kirin-orgasm subsided… and as she realized that, pony womb or not, she lay under him with a bellyful of hot stallion-spunk, wrapped in the forelegs of her lover.
Hina, breathless, gulped and quivered, too overcome to speak.
Big Macintosh, gradually softening and subsiding, warmed her with his loving, accepting gaze, and had no need to speak and nothing more he could say.
They rested in a silence that seemed to stretch out forever, a silence to begin the world or end it.
It stretched out so long that Big Macintosh became uncomfortable. He felt unequal to her worshipful gaze, like he had somehow inherited the mantle of her elders, and that deference lay uneasily around the neck of a simple plow-horse more accustomed to a farmer’s yoke than… than a royal crown.
Braeburn had warned him about these moments, too.
“You be careful, Princess,” he’d said. “I seen you pickin’ stuff up offa me. And you know sometimes I scold you ‘cos you ain’t learnin’ enough, or you throw it all away like that time with Miss Fluttershy…”
“Ah’m sorry!” Big Macintosh had said.
“Naw, listen!” said Braeburn, kissing him on the nose. “You’re a mighty well-favored boy. Good an’ popular an’ a derned quick study… but I warn you, if you learn the ways of the Wild West, an’ by that I mean them beautiful heartful ways of lovin’, you got to know the consequences.”
“Consequences?” Big Macintosh had said, blinking in puzzlement.
Braeburn had shaken his head, smiling. “I prob’ly kin trust you with ‘em. Still! Princess, if you whip out all the tricks and perform on some lucky filly, you may find you worked your magic too well. Why do you think I became the master of th’ quick getaway?”
“Thought you jes’ liked it,” Big Macintosh had said.
“It’s one thing to be amazing at fuckin’,” Braeburn had said. “Mares kin deal with that. They love it when ya know how to please ’em. Problem is, mares is so gosh dern beautiful… I warn you, Princess, beware the day you lay a lovely mare to waste, AN’ you loves her, I mean seriously your heart is full of love for her. ‘Cos it will make you better at it, and that makes it feel better for you and for her, and it gits so big it blots out th’ sky even on the open prairie… and if you end up afterwards jes’ staring and staring into each other’s eyes an’ she’s the whole entire world… Run!”
Big Macintosh, shocked, had blurted “Run?”
“Ain’t no pony in Equestria can be really trusted with another pony’s very soul,” Braeburn had said. “Don’t you forget it. You may have to be very careful one day. ‘Cos if that happens to you, and you don’t run… that mare might die for you, not even thinkin’ twice. It’s a pow’ful thing, the deepest love of a mare. Some ponies ain’t worth a damn, an’ I would never warn them ‘cos it would never matter. Some ponies, they’re born to go live on a farm with a mate until they die, and you might say such things are made for them. But such as you an’ I, born to gallop the prairie an’ be free, well you jes’ better be careful. Don’t start nothin’ you can’t finish!”
Big Macintosh had listened carefully, but he hadn’t really understood what Braeburn meant until he’d cared for Hina the Kirin, been attracted to her, made love, fallen in love with her, done everything he could to spare her the apparent torments of Ponyville, balled her again until they both were stunned senseless… and then gazed into her eyes, as she looked up at him that way.
She didn’t belong anywhere in Ponyville. She came from a distant land. She could barely venture outside his big sister’s bedroom (and he was going to have some work to do, washing up where she’d gushed Kirin juices in relentless orgasm as he pumped her) and was completely demoralized, dared not even sense the mood of Ponyville, and even if she had the courage there was no guarantee she would do anything useful or helpful. She was a loose party cannon, a one-Kirin parasprite infestation, utterly out of place…
And she was all his now, to her very soul.
Big Macintosh couldn’t look away from those luminous eyes that drank him in as if there was nothing else to do in the world. His brow furrowed a little as he considered how well he’d succeeded at his task of making her feel better, and how poorly he’d done literally everything else. Nothing had changed: she was still yearning to do battle against Ponyville’s evils, perhaps now more than ever, and still totally outclassed by them. He couldn’t let her go to this war, even if she longed to destroy herself against the evil for his sake. She was the early warning system, and her job was already done. His sister, and Rainbow, and good-vampire Fluttershy, and boss mare Apple Bloom, and clever Rarity, and crazy Pinkie, and Twilight and the Princesses… they were Ponyville’s defenses, not some stray kitten that spelled itself ‘Kirin’ and danced on mists.
Hina saw the wrinkling of his brow, the hint of his frown, and her lips parted as in a cry of dismay, but only a tiny squeak emerged. Her eyes pleaded with him, not knowing but observing the shift in the tone of his thoughts, and he reached out to stroke her mane and she pressed against his caress like a cat, eyes closing in a transport of bliss… and then opening, pinning him again in that flood of love.
The sadness in Big Macintosh’s eyes was hard to miss… until her tears blurred it from her sight.
“Aw, Hina,” sighed Big Macintosh, holding her tight, and thinking of Braeburn’s warning.
Eventually, she quieted. “You need water,” he said. “You gotta drink some water. Y’lost so much, ma’am. I mean from all that juicy come-squirtin’.” He gulped. “And, well…”
Hina sniffled. On the bedside table was a cup of water, typical of Applejack’s domestic arrangements: there was a pony who was born to settle down on the farm with her heart’s desire, and she’d managed it even though the heart’s desire was Rainbow Dash. Of course there was a cup of water, thought Big Macintosh. If it was me, I’d forget. She never forgets. She lives for that stuff. It’s easy for Applejack to be that mare.
Chastened, Hina went and drank from the cup, wobbling from exhaustion and emotion but so in his sway that she didn’t hesitate for a moment. Big Macintosh watched. She did exactly as he said, trusting every word, and then she turned and looked at him and it was his turn to be speechless.
Hina’s lip quivered. The dark mood of Ponyville seemed to press closer, all around her, but all she had eyes for was Big Macintosh, standing like an overgrown colt and scuffing the floor. There was nothing about his silence that promised happiness for her. Hina’s dreams softly crumbled, and not only because her beloved earth pony lover wouldn’t promise the world for her: as the waves of erotic overload receded, Hina could feel how different she was from him. She didn’t belong with him, for all that her overstimulated body yearned to forever entwine with the big lug. Somehow, she’d found the purest love in all the world, plus a staggeringly potent tonker, and yet it wasn’t working.
She blinked away more tears, her world spinning around her, and looked directly at Big Macintosh. Her lip quivered, but only a little, because she couldn’t bear to pressure him or manipulate him emotionally. This had to be honest, or it meant nothing. And perhaps refuge wasn’t for such as her. To stay, sheltered, with him, in love and safety… that was no path for a Kirin. It was her turn to prove herself somehow. She’d had all that he would give, and now she awaited her fate.
“What do I do now?” said Hina, the Kirin, and waited to hear her doom.
Big Macintosh gulped.
“Go home,” he said, firmly.
Hina’s jaw dropped in astonishment. “What?”
The tears started up again. “But… I love you! To desert you? Now? With all of this…” She gritted her teeth, shook her head until her mane thrashed sparks, forced herself to speak with decorum and reason. “My duty is to protect. Even more so, now! I thought you recognized that. I thought you were letting me follow my path.”
“Ah am,” rumbled Big Macintosh. “Go home, Miss Hina. Go home an’ be safe.”
“I would die defending you! From this town’s evil!”
Big Macintosh frowned, and she backed off a pace, though he couldn’t possibly hurt her. The sway he had over her psyche, held.
“Did you ask what I wanted?” he said. “Din’t I tell you to listen, Miss Hina?”
That got a lip-quiver.
“Well then,” she said sulkily, “what is it you want?”
“Leave Ponyville to Ponyville,” said Big Macintosh solemnly. “Go home to Neighpon, an’ be beautiful. Make gardens or somethin’, I dunno. I’m thinkin’ the sooner the better in case folks get obstreperous around here.”
“You’re going to fight the evil,” accused Hina. “Without me! I cannot bear it. If I can’t die for you, I won’t let you die for me! Big jerk horse!”
“Who, me?” said Big Macintosh. “You spit your bit or somethin’? Whatever gave you such a dern crazy idea, Hina? You’re some kinda lil’ jerk horse! Or Kirin, whatever, th’ point is you ain’t got no respect!”
“I don’t have to honor self-destructive foolishness! You’re too beautiful to lose! Don’t you dare! Protecting me, hah! Some Kirin you are!”
“I ain’t!” yelled Big Macintosh, shaking the house with a stamp of his hoof, and she desisted.
Hina looked grumpily at him, still with an element of awe and worship in her gaze. She blinked. “It is late at night. This is a family house. Aren’t you scaring the ponies?”
Big Macintosh pouted. “Sorry. I shouldn’t git stompy, though, I might go through th’ floor or bust somethin’ important.” He rallied. “I do b’lieve you’re missin’ something, ma’am. What gave you th’ idea it was gonna be you or me, dealin’ with Ponyville mischief?”
“Well, I, er…”
“Eg-zackly!” proclaimed Big Macintosh. “Ma’am, Ah reckon I’m better at you at trustin’ my neighbors and kin. It helps when half your dern friends run ‘round with Elements of Harmony.”
“What are those?” said Hina, suspiciously.
“Y’see?” replied Big Macintosh. “You don’t even know what we got. Thinkin’ that me, your trusty plow puller and stud-pony, that I’m gonna trot out and fight them big monsters an’ such?”
“What do you mean, Elements?” challenged Hina.
Big Macintosh came right back at her. “Do you really think it’s about them trinkets? Ma’am, it’s about the friendship.”
Hina pouted. Big Macintosh argued fervently. “Nopony’s gonna ask me to go up all by my lonesome and fight some monster. Nor should you. Ah’m tellin’ you, we got this all under control. You got no idea, jes’ no dang idea of the power of Ponyville. I bet you wouldn’t guess the kinds of help we got, either! Ma’am, if you want fightin’, we’ve had Gilda as a house-guest over an’ over, lil’ Spy proper grew up with her. Gilda would come to our aid. We got Fluttershy, and I ain’t even tellin’ you everything about Fluttershy on account of I don’t want you messin’ with her! It looks like you’re plumb out of your league, Miss Hina, but you won’t even recognize how protected we are! We got Princesses, Miss Hina. Alicorns. Don’t you know what an alicorn is?”
Hina pouted worse. “Your Princess Celestia? She trusted me to protect Ponyville in her stead.”
Big Macintosh snorted. “She was bein’ polite. And we got others, jes so’s you know. Miss Hina… go HOME.”
Hina looked up, and her vulnerability tugged at his heart. “Big Macintosh… I’m frightened. You’re sure you will be okay?”
“Thought you’ve been scared this whole time that the evil was gonna wipe you out?”
“Doesn’t matter now,” she said simply. “I’m frightened for you.”
Big Macintosh sighed, and he stepped forward and wrapped her in a big, farm-horse-sized hug, tearing up as he felt her shaking. Then, he held her at hoof-length.
“Ah will stay safe,” he informed her. “I know it might be hard to believe but there ain’t much call for me as a battle-horse. Ah am a lover, an’ ain’t no fighter.”
A plainitive smile quirked the side of Hina’s little mouth. “I noticed.”
“Believe it,” ordered Big Macintosh. “Ah’m gonna be the biggest ol’ scaredy-pony, and hide under th’ bed with Smarty Pants until it’s safe.”
Her eyes widened. “Who is he? Some defender horse?”
“Uhh…” stammered Big Macintosh, and began to blush. “Naw. Twilight Sparkle, she had this lil’ doll, just a little cuddly snuggly thing so cute with all yarn hair, an’ she let me have it, or sorta all Ponyville let me have it after I whupped ‘em for it, and, and, uhhh…”
Hina’s eyes widened. “You will snuggle under the bed… with a doll?”
Big Macintosh’s lower lip stuck out, truculently. “Eyup.”
Hina kept drinking him in, amazed, until she squeed and leapt to hug him, her glowing mane radiant and serene. “Eeee! I love you so much! You are so adorable!”
He pouted, and grinned wryly. “Ah guess. So are you.”
She smiled, her eyes sad. “We are both scaredy-ponies? You want me to hide, as well.”
“Naw,” said Big Macintosh. “You ain’t from around here and don’t know good hidin’ places. Ah want you to hide even better! You told me once you can’t stay.”
“That is true,” admitted Hina.
“I’ve seen you strugglin’ with all this,” said Big Macintosh. “What I also have seen, is my lil’ sister who’s our Boss Mare, proper terrorizin’ you to get you to fight. I don’t think our ponies really understand that you ain’t some Princess for us. You’re jes’ you, Miss Hina, and maybe you’re not big enough for all this. And I’m not so sure they’ll believe it.”
Hina trembled, remembering. “That terrible day… all they wanted was the use of my senses…”
Big Macintosh nodded. “It hurt you so much! You said it all got worse. Ah don’t wish to upset you more, Miss Hina, but do you remember what the ponies did that day?”
Hina looked haunted. The curious poetic lilt left her voice. He hugged her while she remembered.
“The monster… it burst out of the bushes toward the gray pegasus. Then, the blue one tackled her, almost faster than I could see. And it was Rarity there in her place, looking up at the monster. It came down, and then went up: did she fight it back? I remember its hoof coming down, smashing her face. And then the little filly, Apple Bloom, she ran straight at the thing, knocked it away. How can that be? She is a child!”
Big Macintosh snorted fondly. “Like hell she is. Go on, Miss Hina.”
“And the one whose burns I soothed, he was there. And you,” said Hina, and gave him an accusing look. “Scaredy-pony? You wrestled the monster, while I stood frozen in terror!”
“Uh… maybe,” said Big Macintosh. “Ah promise t’ be more scaredy-pony in future. Then what?”
Hina shook her head, snuggling against him. “Such chaos. Ponies everywhere, such a terrible struggle! Innocent frail creatures, rearing and charging the monster. I can still see Rarity. The look in her eyes as she dragged it by its…”
She hesitated. “…I think I see what you mean.”
“Ah think the term would be ‘him’, not ‘it’, ma’am,” said Big Macintosh, wincing. “I saw that too, and I saw Rarity. No wonder he stayed in th’ bonfire. You gotta trust us, Miss Hina. We got this. I’ll hide under the bed with Smarty Pants if you like. But you gotta go home. You got your horse fuckin’, but the vacation’s over. I need you to go home an’ be safe. You can’t stay here. You should go now. By dawn you kin be halfway to Neighpon where everything is as beautiful as you.”
Hina regarded him suspiciously. “By dawn, you tell me? You seek such terrible haste. Why the stupid rush?”
“Cos Ah’m a stupid horse,” muttered Big Macintosh.
“Well, I wish I was either more smarterer,” said Big Macintosh helplessly, “or more stupider. So please, Miss Hina, trot that sexy lil’ ass back to Neighpon, okay? Like you must do… an’ right now, if you please.”
She set her jaw. “Why?” she demanded. “Why NOW?”
Big Macintosh hung his head.
“Because if you don’t leave now, ma’am, I’ll never be able ta let you go, an’ that’s a fact.”
Her eyes brimmed. Her lip quivered.
“Come with me!” she impulsively cried.
Big Macintosh looked up, and her excitement crumbled as she saw his expression.
“This is MY home,” he said.
There were no words. She went to him, and hugged him, and then Hina defiantly opened her sensation all the way, enduring the devouring evil of her surroundings just to properly feel Big Macintosh’s heart and spirit up close. Ponyville’s fury and despair nearly obliterated her, but she kept her channel open second after second, just to feel the truth of her pony lover. And it told her what she didn’t want to believe, but couldn’t avoid: it was all true, what they’d talked about. It was true that Ponyville had unforeseen strengths to match the evils that nearly swamped her. She could feel them out there among the hate and fear. It was true that she’d have to go home: she felt the tug of it, even though Neighpon was so far away. And it was true that her glorious farm stallion loved her every bit as much as she’d thought, but his love for Ponyville shone through regardless, leaving him torn and sick at heart.
Though it was horrible, he was right: the more she lingered, the more deeply he would hurt. She didn’t understand how he knew this, and yet he grasped it so completely that he might have been a fellow Kirin, communicating matters of the heart and working out painful answers when the questions became too tangled to unravel.
Hina embraced Big Macintosh fervently, tears flooding her eyes, and he nearly crushed her with his straining, trembling forelegs, and she did not resist. There would be all the rest of life to breathe freely. She would be his little stuffed doll just for a moment, without complaint. It stretched on until she nearly passed out, and then he managed to let go, and eventually released her. And, with that, they began to walk, step by step.
Out the bedroom door.
Down the stairs.
To the front door, where Big Macintosh opened it upon the dark night, and hesitated, unsure, peering into the scary darkness. He glanced at her, worried for her safety.
Hina gave him the saddest smile… and one heavily-lashed eye winked. She took a deep breath, and exhaled out the door, her horn scintillating to life.
Her breath transformed into a shaft of mist that stood out in the moonlight, that reached up into the sky. Kirin did not have to travel dangerous roads at night. She would not have to wait, to stretch out their parting and extend his pain and perhaps linger until they could no longer endure any of their choices. She only had to walk on her clouds and mists, bound for Neighpon.
Hina-rin softly stepped onto her mist. Big Macintosh forced himself not to make a sound, no sob or cry to sap her resolve. This was for her own good, for her protection. It was so she could continue to live, in beauty, somewhere.
She walked away with delicate little steps, her cloven hooves treading the fluffy vapor. After a while, she directed the mists downward, seeming to seek a final view of Ponyville from grass level and not cloud level. She didn’t hurry. Eventually, she was lost to sight.
After a longer while, Big Macintosh stumbled upstairs and fell into bed, burying his head in the pillow, and wishing he had Smarty Pants to hug. But Smarty Pants wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was Ponyville.
It was so very odd, Big Macintosh thought. One more day, one more week, and he’d have been destroyed by Hina’s departure. But, thanks to Braeburn, he was a Wild West prairie wanderer who needed no mare, and he hoped sweet Hina found love and joy back in Neighpon where she belonged. Maybe they’d let her see the ‘sexually adventurous’ things they’d kept her away from. Maybe Hina would be ‘ready for Neighpon’s jelly’, whatever that meant. He’d certainly turned her to jelly, and Braeburn, dear charming Braeburn whom he loved so very much, would be proud of him. And Hina would be safe. They would have memories, special memories to treasure, of that one amazing time in Ponyville in the eye of the storm. And thanks to darling Braeburn, he’d sent her happily on her way full of stallion-come before anypony got too… before anypony… before…
Big Macintosh cried and cried.
Eventually, he slept.
Celestia’s ears were splayed to the sides in a disconcerted look such as she’d rarely shown.
“I think,” she said, “they’ve gotten into the swing of things very thoroughly.”
Chaos nuzzled her. “Did you really think they wouldn’t? I was more concerned for you, Celly.”
Celestia’s eye twitched, and she gulped. “Nonsense. I trust the Kirins’ judgement completely. And I’ve long known Neighponnese unicorns were capable of brazen sexuality.”
“And pony bondage!” added Chaos, cheerfully. “Who knew?”
Celestia gulped again. “Certainly not I.”
“I still wouldn’t have guessed the extent of their ingenuity,” said Chaos, entranced, as tender slurping noises filled the arena.
The subject of their fascination continued.
Celestia, Chaos, Twilight and Trixie had been puzzled at the invitation. The Kirin seemed hesitant, uncertain, but unmistakably suggesting something. They hadn’t wanted to explain directly, hinting tangentially about kinds of pony fun, inquiring if the alicorns and ponies had ever, in their lives, been… naughty.
Very, very naughty, explained the Kirin.
The more Trixie lit up and bounced with delight, the clearer the explanations became.
There was a game, explained the Kirin. It was an unusual game. A special sort of game, that they’d figure out. Or, perhaps, an athletic endeavor? But they wouldn’t be doing the athleticism, not exactly. No, it wasn’t confusing at all, they’d see. The important thing was… and here the Kirin looked nervously at each other… whether their guests were comfortable with… restraint? What one might call erotic restraint, explained the Kirin.
“Called it,” Twilight had said with satisfaction, as Trixie squeed. “I’ve got a book with this in it. Let’s!”
One of the Kirin blinked at her. “No indeed,” he said, “no, you don’t have this. No book mentions this. You will see. Remember, these ponies are all volunteers. They are a sort of athlete… athletes of kinky.”
“Yay!” Trixie had cried, and they’d charged merrily after the Kirin and into… a room.
It was a very odd room. Some type of enormous machine extended out of the wall, like a giant wheel with square brackets or frames attached to it, rotating on a pivot entirely outside the room, and slicing through the room vertically. The room was long, and nicely decorated, and another framework extended down the hall to the far end, a shocking fifty yards away.
At the end, the framework reached out into the room to hold a sign, which could apparently be moved closer and farther by an attendant. The sign was large, the size of a pony, but it wasn’t the shape of a pony. It was the shape of a pony face: a unicorn mare, beaming in delight, her mouth open in a painted cry of ecstacy.
A balcony overlooked it all, and along the balcony sat a row of quiet, polite, very respectful Neighponnese unicorns.
“What the pony hell is all this?” Twilight had said.
The nearby mechanism creaked into life, and the whole wheel thing began to rotate upwards… and the next rectangular frame rose into view, with a Neighponnese unicorn mare spread-eagled within it. Her back was supported by a cozy hammock-like arrangement, but her tail hung down exposing her nether regions. The whole rectangular frame could be tilted and angled by geared wheels built into the mechanism.
Her mouth was gagged, and her head was strapped tightly to a head-rest on the frame that pointed her pretty little horn in exactly, but exactly, the direction the frame pointed.
Twilight looked at Trixie. Trixie looked at Twilight. Both looked down the hall at the pony-face sign, which was about thirty yards from the far wall. An attentive unicorn looked back at them, ready to adjust the position of the sign to suit their degree of confidence.
Twilight had smirked and said, “I bet you I can do it. I’ve had enough practice, bit or no bit.”
“WE can,” Trixie had insisted…
Celestia peeked again at the two unicorns who’d so delightedly taken on this challenge. “Please tell me they won’t meld. We’ll be chased out of here, perhaps forced to flee the country!”
“Celly!” chided Chaos, fascinated. “They’ll do nothing of the sort. They’re having far too much fun. Good heavens, what’s got into them? Our little lesbi-corns—look at them go!”
And indeed, even as she said it, Trixie nuzzled against the bound unicorn’s vulva while Twilight, emitting a cute little snarl of sensuous hunger, suckled upon the Neighponnese mare’s clitoris. Her teeth showed in a grin: that wasn’t all, she’d seized the hapless pony’s clit in a tender grip between her teeth. And, as the mare writhed uselessly against her tight bonds, Twilight Sparkle kept that pony clitoris trapped and rapidly flicked her tongue across it, even as Trixie valiantly strained to lick the inside of her vagina…
The helpless, bound unicorn mare struggled, her muscles standing out in high relief even though she couldn’t move in the least, especially not her head… and then, from her sensuously tormented vagina, fluid gushed, to Trixie’s apparent delight. And when even that didn’t get Twilight to relent, the inevitable happened. Eyes screwed shut, tendons standing out on her neck, the mare let out a muffled shriek through the ball gag in her mouth, and then a long and beautiful gout of magic burst forth from her horn, reflected in the rapt eyes of the solemn and attentive onlookers in the balcony. It arched up to their level, eliciting some gasps, and it splashed down across the floor… and, at its furthest reach, it splashed off the distant target, the smiling and expectant pony-face sign.
“Mistress!” cried Trixie exultantly, mare-spooge on her face, and Twilight looked up and released her erotic prey, and licked her lips, much satisfied.
The bound unicorn mare panted through her nose, looking stunned, and a ripple of equine applause poured down from the balcony. It surged appreciatively as Trixie trotted around to kiss the mare fondly on the muzzle in spite of her gag.
Twilight sat back, apparently still savoring her experience. She winced. “Ow, my tongue!”
Trixie looked back at her and called out, “Mistress! Can we even learn her name? She’s lovely! And so tasty… hey! HEY!”
But her objections were in vain: in spite of her protests, the happily stricken mare whose pussy she’d been ravaging was rising up. Not through levitation, either, but through the rotating of that great wheel. Trixie’s mightiest jumps couldn’t reach her, and only offered a brief glimpse of what waited in the ceiling: ponies with glasses of water and hot towels, solicitous and poised to cosset and cuddle the athlete-horse: possibly even a Kirin lurking in the background ready to cast soothing spells, though Trixie wasn’t sure if she was imagining it.
Trixie stopped jumping, and looked around. The appreciative applause, and some giggles and Neighponnese remarks, continued to drift down from the balcony.
“COME SEE US SOMETIME!” cried Trixie, boldly, to the ceiling. Having delivered her message, she lifted her chin and flicked her tail and trotted over to hug Twilight, who was still licking her lips speculatively.
As the applause trailed politely off, Trixie guided Twilight over to where Celestia waited. “Thanks for letting us play!” she told Celestia. For Chaos, Trixie had a slightly different message.
“Top THAT!” she said, smirking.
Celestia tensed. “Oh, Sw… I mean Chaos… let’s go, we’ve imposed on their peculiar hospitality enough…”
The giant wheel creaked into motion again. Through the floor, yet another nameless unicorn mare ascended for her moment of glory. This one was a lovely powder-blue, with lilac mane and tail. Down at the end of the room, the attendant called gently in a language they didn’t understand, gesturing gracefully to the sign as if to say, nearer? Farther?
“Bet cha can’t,” suggested Trixie.
“Oh, Celestia, please!” said Twilight. “I want to watch this time! Let her try.”
Celestia hung her head in frustration. “Very well. No… you know! Let us just say, earth pony style. Please?”
Chaos lit up with a gratified smile. “Really? Really really? Oh, thank you! Oh, this will be so much fun, what a nice game!”
“I mean it!” urged Celestia.
“And you shall have it,” said Chaos haughtily, “or rather this little pony shall have it. Earth pony style. One side!”
She trotted out to investigate. The attendant called out again, indicating the target.
Chaos waved her impatiently back, going right over to check out her ‘horngasm cannon’. “Oooh! Such cute little pussies, and what lovely skin they have, how ravishing!” She turned the wheels, aiming the unicorn more directly at the target, to get a better look at the blue unicorn’s private parts. The attendant, confused, took her waving at face value and began moving the target farther and farther back.
The balcony onlookers stirred, talking back and forth in Neighponnese, some describing parabolas with their hooves to illustrate their arguments. The attendent called out to Chaos again, and got another dismissive hoof-wave, and moved the target still further back to even more discussion from the gallery.
“You’re supposed to aim at the…” began Twilight.
“Shh!” chided Chaos. She bent, and licked the winking pinkness that presented itself, waiting piquantly between the legs of the pretty pale-blue bondage unicorn… who shuddered, and winked harder, glistening with nectars.
“Ooooh!” squealed Chaos. She turned. “Was yours like this?” she asked Twilight.
“Probably,” said Twilight. “You mean, delicious? I don’t know how they manage that, but wow! Maybe it’s a special diet. She was so good I wish we could take her home with us.” She looked forlornly up at the space in the ceiling.
Licking her lips, Chaos turned back towards her splayed pony. She nuzzled the mare’s perky teats, rewarded by a murmur of appreciation from the balcony, her style earning their approval. She ignored them completely.
“Only…” warned Celestia.
“Earth pony style, I know,” said Chaos with a roll of her eyes. She bent her head… and got to work.
At first, her style was subdued, elegant, which in turn got approval from the audience. There were even a few squees of delight, as the unicorns watched Chaos nuzzle and lick at their countrymare’s eager pussy. It was immediately obvious that Chaos was in heaven, worshipping the lovely mare’s vagina by touch and taste.
Then, her tempo picked up. The pretty powder-blue unicorn wriggled, stretched tight, but agitated by Chaos’s increasingly fervent pussyworshipping. Chaos could be seen sticking her tongue well into the mare, and then withdrawing it and suckling on her clitoris. This unicorn had a noticably smaller clit than the previous: Twilight nudged Trixie and whispered, “More sensitive.” Trixie nodded in agreement.
The pale blue unicorn began to whimper through her ball-gag, then squeal and moan, her lilac tail thrashing like a waved flag. It made a silky sound, reminiscent of the finest grooming: even the sweat standing out on the elegant little mare’s brow seemed to glisten with unusual purity and elegance. And all the while, little Chaos purred and nuzzled and licked and suckled her crotch, her own mysterious tail lashing with increasing frenzy.
And then… Chaos reared, and placed her hooves upon the blue unicorn’s inner thighs. It could have been to spread the quivering labia farther. It could have been just to touch the lovely creature all over, to feel the shudders and spasms of her hind legs, as that lovely mare had been coming harder and harder, and her muffled squeals were turning to orgiastic shrieks through the ball gag.
There was no reason to suspect Chaos’s hooves were shielding or concealing anything, even when the far hoof casually reached across the mare’s belly to almost completely obscure Chaos’s muzzle and part of the mare’s body.
Trixie’s eyes widened. She gasped.
And, very unexpectedly, the lovely powder-blue unicorn in the bondage frame went rigid with shock as if something deeply alarming had happened… and then, squalled through the ball gag, thrashing in her restraints, and seemed to explode.
A massive bolt of horngasm erupted from her horn and blasted straight across the room, directly into the pony-face sign, which burst into flame and fell off its mounting bracket. The attendant cringed back in terror, gazing across the room at Chaos and her athlete-mare, and then looked at the sign. Its face had melted off.
Chaos, her hoof and foreleg still obscuring the blue unicorn’s personal areas, sagged for a moment, seemingly enthralled with the reaction she’d produced. Then, she tensed, and made a very odd noise against the unicorn’s pussy, as if her tongue was in an uncomfortable position… and twisted and wiggled her neck, straining to do something other ponies couldn’t see.
The blue unicorn shrieked through her ball gag, and let out another eruption of horngasm that left her poor horn smouldering. All eyes stared in disbelief at what Chaos had done with the hapless, bound mare. Then, they followed the path of her ejaculation down to the end of the room, where they saw that she’d blown a hole in the far wall.
All eyes returned, to see Chaos, hooves no longer obscuring the unicorn’s vagina and belly, kissing her passed-out partner’s pussy, then belly, then trotting around to kiss her nose, and finally the shank of her horn.
Chaos turned to Trixie, triumphantly.
“Darling,” hissed Princess Celestia, looking worriedly all around her. “Pray be so good as to accompany us. Out of here. Now!”
“I’m very good!” chirped Chaos, trotting bouncily over. “Of course. Thank you so much for letting me have my fun!” She turned to the stunned and terrified crowd. “And thank you all for a wonderfully special moment!”
“Chaos!” hissed Celestia. “I mean it. I know what you did, you’ve done it to me, who’s going to explain to that poor mare? You promised. Out! Mayhap you can drink tea without screwing that up!”
The crowd was turning, steadily, from shocked silence to loud, stomping equine applause, accompanied by worshipful cries, even as the obliterated blue unicorn was raised up into the ceiling to be released from her bonds and fussed over by her trainers.
“Listen!” called Chaos. “It’s the sound of my people!”
“Help me get her out of here,” said Twilight to Trixie, “or she’ll have them line up and she’ll do them all, and then they’re gonna be planting us under those cherry trees for heresy.”
“They love me!” cried Chaos, her mane swirling with delight.
“You’re a legend,” replied Trixie. “Now move it!” She butted the giddy alicorn in the rump with her horn, and Chaos squeaked and began to run out of the room, partly because Celestia was dragging her by the ear.
And ever after, the legend was told of how the alicorn of ultimate orgasm returned to her own people, who were doubtless sturdier ponies, and how she bestowed upon the Neighpon horngasm arena the parting benediction, “But Pinkie Pie counts as an earth pony!”
None understood it, but of such things, legends are made.
It was a crappy little cabin, thought Snowy Hocks, abandoned and decrepit, but it was well out of the way and that was the important thing. He wasn’t sure how much time he’d have. He prided himself on being able to assess threats well, even to the point of correctly planning for his own disloyalty to himself while a thrall. The threat he now faced was far worse, because it was almost impossible to gauge.
Was Pinkie Pie even an earth pony? No earth pony could do the impossible, bizarre things she did. Yet, for all that, there had to be some way to either turn the townsponies against her, or defuse her, or get the jump on her.
No! thought Snowy. Getting the jump on her wouldn’t work, he had to put it out of his mind entirely. It was far too dangerous, a Hollyhock-grade plan, and he had to do a lot better than that. First: it was possible that she had to respond in kind. If he attacked her, he’d be snuffed out instantly. But if he talked, she might have to talk. If he made claims or arguments, she might have to counter-argue them. That could be the answer. It was so hard to tell, given the range of her known activities, but she seemed to always be ready with a quip. And then there was the question of her alliances… and her dislikes. And that might be where he could get through, could un-Pinkie her.
Even Pinkie Pie had to have some kind of weakness, somewhere, and Snowy proposed to find it.
First, he had to use some kind of trick or key to knock her out of that fluffy mode, into the straight-hair mode where she still raved but couldn’t do crazy things. That seemed the most urgent problem.
It was a shame he couldn’t kill and devour a little soul to get in shape, but something told him he’d made the right call. Certain… keys to the problem, were going to have to stay alive and unthralled, however frustrating that might be. Snowy Hocks was almost certain he’d captured one such key. There had to be a way to use it to his advantage, and at least there wasn’t a discipline problem: a vampire Stare worked wonders, as effective for him as it had been for Fluttershy. He glanced into the corner of the crappy little cabin in which he’d hid.
Little Dursaa gazed back, entranced, and called, “Da!”