“Do you still think we should… you know?” whispered Sweetie Belle, peering around the Crusader clubhouse.

Scootaloo glared at her, and her heart skipped a beat. “More than ever!”

“Well, you don’t look happy about it! I hope you don’t think I’ve been telling Apple Bloom.”

“It’s not that,” said Scootaloo. “And I’m not mad at you, before you ask.”

“Is it because I think you should try it both ways, Scootaloo? I don’t understand why that would be a problem. You’re a filly and trust me, it’s amazing.” Sweetie dropped her eyes bashfully. “You were amazing.”

Scootaloo continued to glare, but at nothing. “It’s complicated.”

“No, actually, it was very simple! You sort of stand there and hold still and I’ll do all the work. I think you will really enjoy it!” said Sweetie Belle.

“That’s not what I meant. I guess, maybe, if you say so,” grumbled Scootaloo. She blushed slightly, her wings lifting. “I guess if I’m not liking it, you could sort of nibble? You know, that thing you do. The one that gets me really excited. The one where you have to be my most special somepony forever and ever to do it, which you totally are, so I guess it’s okay?”

“Chewing on your wings?” suggested Sweetie, and Scootaloo blushed scarlet, her wings poinging to quivering, rigidly erect poses. Sweetie blinked. “What was that for? We’re just talking.”

“Dammit!” snarled Scootaloo. “Sorry, okay? I can’t help it. Don’t just say it like that, I get all excited! Now I can’t even focus.”

“It’s all right, Scootaloo,” reassured Sweetie. “I checked with Rarity, remember? After you said that I could, I asked her. It’s natural for a pegasus your age to have wing erections, because you’re a grown-up now and your body is telling you to mate. Which you can do with me, so everything is fine, isn’t it? Mine is telling me the same thing, all the time.”

Scootaloo looked grumpy. “I wish it wasn’t ALL the time. Anyway, you could do that—what you said.”

“No, I couldn’t,” said Sweetie. “I’ll be holding something in my mouth, remember? That’s the whole point.”

“Yeah, well, I think it should be me holding it, you’re the one who keeps telling me I should find out what it feels like when you…”

Apple Bloom’s head appeared in the doorway. “Hi! How’s things in th’ land of the thunder-stinky?”

Scootaloo’s head whipped around and Sweetie screamed. “Apple Bloom! What are you doing here?”

This wiped the determined smile off Apple Bloom’s face. “What, y’mean in our clubhouse, ‘here’? That what ya mean?”

Scootaloo didn’t blink at all, and grinned back at her old friend with a vengeance. “Oh, hi, Apple Bloom! What’s going on?”

“You couldn’t possibly mean, what are ya doin’ here in this clubhouse that you built yourself bangin’ in nails with your very own hooves—this clubhouse your big sister Applejack gave you to share with your very best friends?” said Apple Bloom. “Whatever could you be doin’ here in your own dang property? That what you’re askin’?”

Sweetie Belle gulped. “I mean… it’s so good to see you! We should spend more time together.”

“If it wouldn’t interrupt your canoodling,” suggested Apple Bloom. “I know that mus’ be quite a burden, or somethin’.”

Sweetie cringed, and Scootaloo saw this and bristled. “This is you being mean, Apple Bloom! What are you, related to Babs Seed or something?”

As soon as she said it, she felt stupid, but all the same it broke the tension. Apple Bloom laughed. “Yeah! We’re cousins, Scootaloo, don’t you know anything?”

“I wonder if she is experiencing puberty, too,” said Sweetie Belle.

“Now that’s a frightening thought,” said Apple Bloom. “Listen, guys, I need your help with somethin’! We gotta find out where Big Macintosh went and what he was doin’, on account of he’s doin’ weird things now and that ain’t right!”

“What kind of weird things?” demanded Scootaloo.

Apple Bloom took a deep breath, and whispered it with her eyes wide and spooked. “Big Macintosh put lipstick on his butt!”

She then sat and sulked, for she did not get sympathy so much as hysterical laughter. Scootaloo rolled around crying with laughter, and Sweetie Belle sat up straight smirking and giggling, and it went on and on and on as the country filly glowered.

“Good one, Apple Bloom!” laughed Scootaloo. “You’re the best!”

“I ain’t joking,” said Apple Bloom bitterly, and they trailed off. “And it ain’t funny!”

“We’re sorry,” said Sweetie. The corner of her mouth twitched. “But maybe it is just a little bit funny?”

“That there pony’s family. An’ he was missing, and it’s weird, and it ain’t neither funny!”

Sweetie shot a warning glance at Scootaloo, and continued, “We didn’t notice he was away!”

“Don’t notice much these days, do ya?” grumbled Apple Bloom.

“You should tell us these things, Apple Bloom,” said Sweetie earnestly. “If we knew you were upset we would figure out what to do so you’d feel better. Are you serious? Big Macintosh put lipstick on his butt? Do you think some pony lady was kissing him there?”

Scootaloo snorted with laughter again, but suppressed it.

Apple Bloom looked woebegone. “That’s th’ thing! He used a color that’s pretty near exactly the color of him already! You cain’t hardly see it or nothin’, I wouldn’ta known it except for I was pushin’ him along and it come off on my shoulder. I wiped it away right quick, and he din’t see me. I swear I ain’t lyin’. Big Macintosh painted himself with a color that was just like the color he already was. Why would he do a crazy thing like that?”

“Covering up bite marks, maybe,” snickered Scootaloo, and Apple Bloom glared at her.

Sweetie’s eyes widened. “Scootaloo, weren’t you telling me you saw your Dad near town?”

That wiped the smile off the little pegasus’s face. “No, I didn’t! My Mom saw him. I even smelled him ‘cos he jumped my Mom before he left. But he ran away and wouldn’t see me and we can’t find him anywhere!”

“Your Dad?” squeaked Apple Bloom. “Really? The one we saw when we used that magic gem that shows who your parents are? Which one, the pegasus guy or the cowpony?”

“The cowpony,” said Scootaloo. “Braeburn.”

This floored Apple Bloom. Her jaw dropped, her eyes bugged out. She said, “Oh my gosh! That was Braeburn, really? I ain’t never seen Braeburn, I have never travelled to Appleloosa like my big sister has! Braeburn is your Dad? He’s my cousin! Oh my gosh, Scootaloo, we’re related!”

“I never saw him either,” muttered Scootaloo, staring at the floor.

Sweetie Belle was gazing into space, deep in thought. “Soooo… Big Macintosh was away, but now he’s back. At the same time, Scootaloo’s Mom saw Braeburn outside Ponyville, and tried to catch him but he got away. And Big Macintosh is using lipstick…” She gasped. “Rarity was talking about somepony stealing lipstick from her! She asked if I’d taken it, and then apologized all over the place when I said I didn’t! It must have been Big Macintosh who took it!”

“How’d he even put lipstick on his butt?” complained Scootaloo. “He’s an earth pony, not a unicorn! He can’t reach or see it properly!”

Sweetie’s eyes widened. “What if… okay, this might sound weird, but I’m sure it makes sense. What if Big Macintosh did have a bite mark on his butt or something, and he wanted to cover it up, and he met Braeburn and Braeburn put the lipstick on for him?”

“Or Big Macintosh put lipstick on for Braeburn,” said Scootaloo, and then her eyes widened as well. “Whoa! Sweetie, do you realize what that could mean?”

“Maybe Big Macintosh wasn’t just putting lipstick on for Braeburn,” breathed Sweetie Belle.

Apple Bloom’s face was a mask of dismay. She gulped, and then quavered, “Oh, naw…”

“My Dad is a gay cowpony!” squeaked Scootaloo.

“Oh, naw, naw…”

“And Big Macintosh is his little filly!” cried Sweetie Belle, excitedly.

Apple Bloom banged her hoof on the floor, making them jump.

“OH HELL NAW!” she yelled, enraged. “You take that back!”

“But it makes so much sense, and it explains all of these things,” protested Sweetie Belle.

“No!” yelled Apple Bloom. “My big brother ain’t no fancy-pony! He is strong!”

Scootaloo turned on her. “What is your problem? I just said my Dad was a gay cowpony and I have no problem with that. In fact, I just HAVE to find him now!”

“Ain’t about whether you have a problem, you crazy canoodling featherhead!” yelled Apple Bloom. “We’re talkin’ about my family here!”

Sweetie found herself in the role of peacemaker between hotheads again, bringing back memories of years past when she’d spent all her time with the other Cutie Mark Crusaders. There was something comforting about the familiarity of Scootaloo and Apple Bloom about to punch each other—except that Apple Bloom seemed really upset, worryingly so, and Sweetie wondered how to soothe her country friend.

“Maybe if we calm down a little and talk about it,” she said. “Rarity told me that pegasi have more relaxed attitudes towards homosexuality and polyamory than earth ponies and unicorns. She even waggled her eyebrows when she said it, so it must be really extra true. I don’t think Scootaloo meant to say anything wrong…”

“There is nothing wrong with it, what’s wrong with you?” demanded Scootaloo, glaring at Apple Bloom.

Apple Bloom bit her lip, about to cry. “Th’ wrong thing is… I thought I knew my brother,” she stammered, and then before Sweetie or Scootaloo could stop her, she’d bolted, galloping out the door.

Sweetie and Scootaloo looked at each other, helplessly, and then ran after her.

“Where does she think she’s going?” said Scootaloo. “She’s headed out towards the Everfree Forest!”

And indeed she was, but as she approached it they realized Apple Bloom wasn’t heading for the Everfree. Instead, she stampeded across the little bridge and headed straight for Fluttershy’s cottage, crying “Fluttershy! Fluttershy!”

Sweetie made to follow her, and was stopped by a firm yank on her tail. Startled, she looked back to see Scootaloo, wings up, hooves braced, teeth gripping her tail firmly, and eyes fierce.

“W’t,” ordered Scootaloo. Sweetie’s eyes widened. She stopped pulling, and Scootaloo released her tail, but held her with that commanding gaze.

“Oh, gosh, Scootaloo. Plan C? Really?” She gulped. “Now?”

The little pegasus nodded. “Or plan R.”

“But I don’t even have any pudding, or a wading pool with me!” protested Sweetie.

“No, that’s plan X!” argued Scootaloo, and then looked confused. “No, wait, that one was the pudding and Rainbow Dash. Impossible to resist but impossible to arrange! Plan R was… shhh!”

Apple Bloom had emerged from Fluttershy’s cottage, Fluttershy in tow. The butter-yellow pegasus looked grumpy, and they could just barely hear her arguing.

“I don’t know, Apple Bloom,” she said. “It seems very unlikely, and I wouldn’t want to call you a fibber, but Pinkie and I would know if that was true…”

“Then he come down with a case of it durin’ his travels!” protested Apple Bloom. “You gotta come and give him The Stare and tell him not to be gay no more, please!”

“That’s another thing!” exclaimed Fluttershy. “I may use that ability to gather chickens and keep them safe, but I would never try to compel another pony! It is unfair of you to ask that of me, Apple Bloom, and hurts my feelings that you would think I’d do it! And what is so wrong if Big Macintosh wishes to enjoy a little rumpy-pumpy?”

“He’s mah BROTHER,” sniffled Apple Bloom, sulking.

“You earth ponies have such peculiar attitudes about sex at times,” sighed Fluttershy. She gave Apple Bloom a stern look. “For your information, young lady, the only really important thing is never to do things to other ponies without asking. Or expect them to do things to you without asking. Or watch them doing things to each other without asking, I suppose. Anyway, I am usually almost certainly good about these things and I hope you can be just as good, or better! Better would be nice. I won’t say why.”

Fluttershy bit her lip, blushing. Apple Bloom wailed, “But I need you to help straighten Big Macintosh out!”

“Young lady, he helped to father my foal!” snapped Fluttershy. “I am a mare and extremely female, and he came in me, I’ll have you know! Quite forcefully! I do not know what you’re talking about, to me it all seemed very heterosexual and I have the foal to prove it!”

Apple Bloom’s lip quivered. “Mebbe he forgot?”

Fluttershy heaved an exasperated sigh.

“Please,” said Apple Bloom, “can ya come and, I dunno, remind him?”

Fluttershy pouted. “It has been a while since I’ve spoken with him. We’ve never expected anything regarding foal-rearing from him, you know, he was strictly the stud horse and delightful at it. I have no intention of telling him what to do or who to do it with, but if it will make you feel better, I will visit him, unless he is busy working in the fields.”

“Yay!” cried Apple Bloom, apparently confident that the vision of Fluttershy would entice any stallion away from the dick. There was some justification for this belief. Fluttershy had returned to the shapely figure that had attracted the attention of paparazzi and fashion photographers, she glowed with new motherhood, and though Pinkie Pie still wished to feed her with sweets and enjoy her plumpness, Pinkie Pie had bigger challenges to contend with and hadn’t been able to keep the sweets around long enough to do it.

Apple Bloom charged off. Fluttershy trotted after her, flicking her tail in vexation but not truly cross: she couldn’t be too angry at animals and little children, and to her, all the Cutie Mark Crusaders still counted as children, a view they took pains to encourage.

Scootaloo stared at Sweetie Belle. “Plan…”

The door of Fluttershy’s cottage burst open again, explosively, in a cloud of flying laundry, and a little white colt bounded through, shrilly whinnying and capering about with impossible energy and glee. From inside came a despairing cry.

“Not the mud puddles! Funny once, do you hear me? Funny ONCE!”

Rock Candy, Pinkie and Fluttershy’s foal, had inherited Fluttershy’s sweet tooth, but he’d got Pinkie’s metabolism and energy levels. This wasn’t the frightening part. He’d also picked up Pinkie’s sense of humor, though he couldn’t talk yet… and the results were terrifying.

He was wearing one of Fluttershy’s fluffy socks on his head, and was draped in bedsheets and pillowcases, both the quilted butterfly pattern that went on Fluttershy’s bed and the loud, brightly colored bedsheets that he’d gone bouncy over when they shopped for his. Both kinds dragged through the long grass as the tiny, hyperactive foal cartwheeled around and bounced off all four hooves just like Pinkie did.

Pinkie wasn’t bouncing. “You get back here, mister!” she cried, and charged out the door after him.

Scootaloo gasped. “Oh my gosh! Plan… I don’t know, just go, go right now! Go!”

“But which letter should it be?” protested Sweetie.

“Don’t know! Just go and distract them, this is our big chance! Now!”

Sweetie squeaked as Scootaloo butted her towards the capering foal and pursuing Pinkie, and then set off to intercept them. Behind her, Scootaloo dove into the bushes, and slunk towards the open door of Fluttershy’s cottage.

“Hi, Pinkie Pie!” called Sweetie. “Do you need any help?”

“Help?” squeaked Pinkie Pie. “I might need Applejack here with her lasso! This little guy got up on the counter again, and ate two trays of cookies! Two whole trays! Do you know what that means?”

“Um… no?” hazarded Sweetie Belle, seeing Scootaloo enter the house, her wings erect with excitement, her body pressed low to the ground as if that would help her be furtive.

“It means total chaos is what it means! You thought Discord was good at turning Ponyville upside down? Get a load of this kid! Hey, buster! Rock! Can you do this, huh?”

Pinkie dashed up to Rock, facing him, and stood very still, staring into space vacantly. Rock capered again, did a backflip causing the rest of the laundry to fall off him onto the grass, and attempted to imitate Pinkie, who held her pose. He flung himself into a similar pose, though it seemed clownishly exaggerated—but he couldn’t match what Pinkie had done, because his big wide eyes twitched and flickered, and his tail twitched, and then Sweetie could see that all his legs were vibrating and the little colt shivered in continual hyperactive tremors.

“Hah!” teased Pinkie. “At least I got him outside for Phase Two!”

Sweetie glanced in a panic at the house. Scootaloo still hadn’t emerged. “Phase Two? Is that like Plan B?”

“How about you stand back oh, say, three feet or so?” suggested Pinkie Pie.

“How c…”

Rock continued to beam ecstatically, vibrating. Then, a puzzled look crossed his face.

“…hurrrk!” he said, and deposited cookies all over the flowerbeds.

Sweetie gagged, but Pinkie announced, “Phase Two, engage! Right on schedule, you adorable little nightmare! No, don’t step in it, this way, that’s a good boy—if you were a good boy, which you’re kind of not but you come by it honestly—and now we’ve got a minute or so before Phase Three! So what brings you here, Sweetie? Where’s your friends? Why aren’t you with Apple Bloom? She was just here!”

“Was she?” said Sweetie, trying not to stare at the house. “What a coincidence! I just happened to be passing by at the same time. Can we play in the yard some more?”

“If you’re quick!” said Pinkie. “Don’t step in the baby yack, even if it’s mostly cookies! Their texture is much yuckier than usual, thanks to Rock!”

Rock did another flip, then saw Sweetie Belle as if for the first time. He stared at her in wide-eyed wonder, and his face became wreathed in a smile that got larger and larger. It didn’t look so much like he was happy to see her, more like the sight of Sweetie Belle was the funniest thing he’d ever seen. Then he was gamboling and whinnying shrilly again, bouncing high into the air.

“He likes you! Or he’s up to something. Or he likes you AND he’s up to something,” suggested Pinkie.

That makes two of us, thought Sweetie. She bounced too, trying to mimic his capering, though she suspected she was far too old to manage it. It felt like she was a grown-up trying to bounce like a foal. On the bright side, if Scootaloo had seen that, the rest of the afternoon would probably be given over to unicorn-pleasuring. To make sure, Sweetie capered again hoping to be seen, and Rock laughed as he bounced all around her.

“Three,” said Pinkie conversationally, “two… one… uh, zero… come on, Rock, what is it, the visitor?”

Rock bounced over to Pinkie’s side, gazing up in obvious adoration. Then, his eyes glazed over, and he flumped into the grass in a pile of ungainly colt limbs, the pink mane and tail a glorious tangle against the green.

“And, Phase Three!” proclaimed Pinkie, triumphantly. “That boy! Thinks he’s just like Mom! Can’t handle the sugar rushes, though. Not yet.”

“Oh my gosh!” squeaked Sweetie. “Is he okay?”

“He’s gonna be super cranky when he wakes up, poor little guy! I’ll let Fluttershy deal with him, it’s like she doesn’t even register him being obnoxious. At least I don’t have to mop the great outdoors! Come on, buddy, let’s get you cleaned up and into your bed. Lips that are pukey shall not touch my boobies!”

Sweetie looked around hectically, but still didn’t see any sign of activity in Fluttershy’s house. “Um, you’re putting him to bed? It’s such a nice day, it’s so beautiful out!”

“I’m sure he thought so too, for about three minutes!” giggled Pinkie Pie. “Enough talking, let’s get to walking!” Without hesitation, she bent down and seized the scruff of Rock’s mane in her teeth, and began dragging his limp form back toward Fluttershy’s cottage.

“Eek!” squealed Sweetie. “Are you okay, do you need help, is that hurting him?”

Pinkie shook her head, and Rock bobbled loosely in her grasp. “J’st a m’nute!”

Sweetie ran ahead, her heart pounding, and rushed into the house. She looked around, and there was no sign of Scootaloo, though she wondered if Scootaloo had hidden upstairs or was searching there. It seemed like Fluttershy did clean and redecorate things occasionally, and it wouldn’t be surprising to discover the newly maternal mares had found a more suitable place for their unused magic bit since they had a hyperactive, sugar-eating foal around getting into mischief.

Pinkie appeared in the doorway, dragging Rock. Sweetie tried to block the stairs to Fluttershy’s bedroom, but it was no good, that was right where Pinkie was heading. “Sc’se me!”

And at the top of the stairs, caught in her outlaw bit-thievery, was… nopony. Sweetie sagged with relief, still looking around hectically. There was no sign of Scootaloo anywhere. Had she given up and run away when Pinkie returned? Could she still be hiding somewhere? None of their plans had covered this. As Pinkie deposited her foal in his crib and wiped his mouth with a rag, Sweetie considered what to do, and decided beating a hasty retreat was the best option.

“It’s been wonderful visiting you and seeing Rock Candy again, but I have some things to do and I should be going,” she began, and squeaked, for Pinkie was suddenly grinning at her.

“I’ll bet you do! Let me make a wild, crazy guess and say… Scootaloo?”

Sweetie was frozen in horror. Pinkie chuckled. “Don’t be so shocked. I know what you two are up to. You’re a lot like me, aren’t you?”

“How is that?” said Sweetie in a small voice, her heart pounding.

Pinkie smirked, and walked over to nosebump with her. “Wanting a suitor with the cooter! It’s okay, I won’t tease you about it. Maybe I should be encouraging you to play with boys since there are things that leads to, like Rock, which are very magical. I dunno, though: I seem to have the best of both worlds. We have made a family that is as solid and wonderful as the Apple family!”

At this, her tail twitched, violently. Pinkie gasped, and Sweetie squeaked again, and then Pinkie was standing on top of Rock’s crib, sheltering it with her body from the unthreatening ceiling, staring up huntedly.

“Pinkie, are you okay?”

“That’s funny,” said Pinkie hesitantly, “and by funny I mean the kind of funny that’s not very funny at all. Why would my Pinkie Sense go off indoors, when nothing is falling? But it’s going off like gangbusters, all of a sudden, and it won’t stop!”

“I’d better go,” said Sweetie, and she left Pinkie peering up at the ceiling, and clattered down the stairs. Nothing nearby was falling, and there was no sign of Scootaloo, and she trotted outside, and began to head back toward the clubhouse…

“Pssst!” came a familiar voice from behind her. She turned, and Scootaloo was peering out of the undergrowth on the outskirts of the Everfree Forest.

A shiny metal bit gleamed between her teeth, and her grin was the most joyful thing in Equestria.

Sweetie let out a squeal of delight before remembering that she was trying to be sneaky, and Scootaloo vanished, scurrying deeper into the concealing forest, hotly pursued by Sweetie Belle who chased the sounds of crunching twigs and trotting hooves until the surroundings were dark and ominous. Sweetie slowed, looking around fearfully, but Scootaloo wasn’t far ahead: the triumphant orange pegasus stood in a small clearing, a forehoof raised and pawing the air, rear hooves set well apart and braced for battle, and a fine russet-to-magenta ponycock jutting forth underneath her.

“Pr’pare to c’lebrate our l’ve,” she proclaimed, “cause I’m g’nna do you c’wpony style!”

Sweetie blinked. “What’s cowpony style? Do you mean like Braeburn would?”

Scootaloo snorted and flicked her tail, grinning rakishly at Sweetie, and Sweetie quivered and winked.

“R’ns in th’ family!”

“But…” said Sweetie Belle uncertainly.


“But it’s not fair to you, to make you do that part all the time. I think it’s time for you to enjoy it the way I did,” said Sweetie. “You have no idea. And is this really the place?”

“I g’t the biggest m’nster in th’ forest!” announced Scootaloo.

“And I am looking forward to it very much, but we did talk about how it’s not fair to you that you haven’t tried sex as a mare yet,” said Sweetie. “I thought I explained how wonderful it was, and it seemed like you believed me. Did you forget?”

Scootaloo glowered. “Aw, ‘s okay, r’lly…”

“No, it isn’t! I love you, Scootaloo, and I won’t be selfish and take all the pleasure leaving none of it for you, no matter how noble you are about it. I promise I don’t mind doing this for you. It’s time for you to have really, really amazing sex and I won’t let you down! I can have a turn afterwards, even if we have to wait for a while. Then we should leave before it gets even close to night-time.”

Scootaloo looked concerned. “R’lly, it’s okay, th’s is th’ right w’y f’r us.”

“You agreed you’d try it,” said Sweetie Belle. “I insist! Rarity’s been explaining lots of things as long as I ask carefully.” She circled around behind her young lover, eyeing Scootaloo’s personal areas. Pegasus vagina pouted enticingly, and winked back at her.

“Y’r sister knows everything, huh?” grumbled Scootaloo. Then, she shrieked, spitting the bit out, for Sweetie had nipped her rump sharply. “What was that for?!”

“She’s my Mom!” retorted Sweetie. “And yes, she does. Come on, let’s get started before it gets dark! I don’t know why you even came here!”

Scootaloo glared back at her. “Because adventure, and danger, and stuff!”

“We’re not really deep in the Everfree Forest,” said Sweetie. “Just deep enough that nopony is likely to find us. How come you had to spit the bit on the ground, Scootaloo? It’s all dirty, now!”

Scootaloo smirked. “Good. A rough and tumble cowpony colt like me doesn’t mind a little dirt. Now, you hold still, little missy, because this is going to be awesome…”

She bent to pick the bit back up again, but before she reached it, a white missile slammed into the dirt at her feet, and the bit was gone. Instead, Sweetie Belle faced her, chin high and proud, and bit firmly in her teeth, and the unicorn filly said, “Y’s, Sc’t, it is.”

Then, her eyes widened, as did Scootaloo’s, at what had happened under her belly.

It was black. It was bulky. It had a hell of a flare, a bluntness that was like a scaled-down Applejack, from that time when they’d spied on Applejack getting with Rainbow Dash. The stallionhood that had traumatized their dreams but kickstarted their puberties lived again, in a smaller and more appropriate form, given aching stiffness by Sweetie’s intense pubescence, jutting forth in haughty brutality as if mocking Sweetie’s feminine ways.

Scootaloo gulped. “You have got to be kidding.”

“Is it b’gger than yours?” blinked Sweetie. She rolled onto her side, so she could get a better look, kicking at the air, and it bobbled about rigidly.

“I think so,” said Scootaloo. “Oh yeah. Whoof! What exactly am I supposed to do here that’s so wonderful? This seems like the stupidest idea ever.”

“You sh’d tr’st me,” said Sweetie implacably.

“I guess I don’t have the biggest monster in the forest?”

“I’ll be g’ntle,” soothed Sweetie Belle.

That got her a glare. “Ha! Cowponies aren’t gentle. Just because you have some kind of huge dick, don’t you dare start treating me like some little scared filly!”

“Ok’y,” said Sweetie, moving around behind Scootaloo, but the pegasus scrambled out of the way.

“Uh, you’re sure that fits? I mean—you keep saying it’s so wonderful, how am I supposed to know that when I’ve never done it? Give me a moment…”

“Tr’st me,” said Sweetie Belle.

Scootaloo panted. She could feel her vagina doing its strange things, getting all squishy and exuding juices and winking, and she stamped a rear hoof in frustration. It was demanding things that didn’t feel right, a whole overwhelming burst of sensation that felt different from who she was, and it spoke in a very loud voice.

“Are you sure?” she said, and winced at the nervousness in her voice—not very cowpony, she thought.

“I’ll be g’ntle,” said Sweetie Belle, and heaved herself up, mounting onto Scootaloo’s pert pegasus rump.

Hooves flashed out, and Sweetie cried out and spat the bit onto the ground. “Ow!”

“Oh, wow!” squeaked Scootaloo. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking, my body just kind of…”

She let out a shriek. Sweetie had nipped her butt again, and the sensations that were battering her became overwhelming things, a vast rush of need from her depths that froze her in place, legs spread and shaking, passive before her new stallion and stunned by the alien dominance of her own sexual feelings.

Sweetie snorted. “Rarity told me it’s okay when mares want to be TAKEN!”

Scootaloo was panting, her eyes very wide and panicky. Sweetie hesitated, and added, “That is… if you still want to?”

Scootaloo screwed her eyes shut, laid her ears back and squealed, “Do it!”

That was all Sweetie Belle needed to hear. It all made sense to her, right then.

She seized the bit from off the ground, ignoring the leaves and twigs, and her stallionhood shot forth once more. She inspected Scootaloo’s pussy, and it dripped juice and winked madly. Everything seemed ready.

Sweetie Belle heaved herself up once more, and mounted upon Scootaloo’s trembling rump, adjusting her unicorn hips decorously.

“Tr’st me,” she said once more, and pushed, and her aim was lucky the very first time.

She felt Scootaloo’s body shudder under her, heard the throttled squall, felt the ruthless tightness clamping her and she froze, wedged into Scootaloo’s virgin pussy, afraid to go further, and she squeaked, “Oh no!” through the bit.

Scootaloo’s head was lowered. She was so tense. She banged the ground with a forehoof, shaking her head.

“Sc’taloo, ‘re you okay?”

“Haaahhh! This is so wrong, ahhhh!”

Sweetie’s heart lurched. “Oh, I’m s’rry! Y’re so tight! Does it hurt?”

Scootaloo shook, her body trembling, and Sweetie felt that tightness around her hard-on grip and clench, which she wouldn’t have thought possible. Scootaloo stammered, “My… my…”

“Wh’t is it, Sc’taloo?”

“My body is making me like it—but this is so messed up! Ahhhh!”

Sweetie blinked. She hadn’t expected that. “It d’sn’t h’rt?”

“Ahhhh! Oh Sweetie Belle, nnnngh, aahhh!”

“Sc’taloo! Am I h’rting you?”

“I don’t know! Don’t stop! I can take it!” cried Scootaloo, wracked by sensation.

Sweetie Belle considered that, holding very still while Scootaloo shuddered and clutched at her stallion bulk. “Th’s is not like it was f’r me. I w’nt you to like it. I’m g’nna stop unless you c’n tell me what’s wrong. M’ybe you’re too little.”

Scootaloo snarled, pawing the dirt with a forehoof. “This isn’t ahhh! what I’m like. This isn’t like being a cowpony colt! Oh gosh Sweetie, ahhh! Why is it so big, what is it doing? How can I feel this way?”

Sweetie held her a little closer as she trembled. “It’s int’nse f’r me too,” she said around the bit, in Scootaloo’s pinned-back ear. “Does it feel g’d?”

“I don’t know!” wailed Scootaloo. “It’s too much! Why does my vagina want this when it’s so messed up? What’s happening to me?”

Sweetie took a deep breath.

“Tr’st me,” she said, and began to thrust with gentle firmness, pushing deeper into her lover’s taut pussy.

Scootaloo let out a strangled shriek, all the feathers on her wings bristling out, and went rigid in Sweetie’s forelegs like a little statue. She arched her neck up, staring into space with a look of utter shock, and inside her body, the huge throbbing mass of stallion slid deeper, jolting her to her very soul, sending bursts of sensation through her so intense that she couldn’t interpret them, or wouldn’t.

She felt deep, wracking pangs of arousal shake her, felt her vagina going even more slippery and oozey, drawing her with horrible force towards some strange new peak she’d never experienced: not the fine clean burst of orgasm she’d had inside Sweetie, or the waves of pleasure through attending Sweetie by tongue and hoof and being attended in turn, but something else, something dark and enfolding and too big to grasp that sucked her under and took her away from herself.

Sweetie Belle panted, breathing through her nose, working her hips though they were tiring already. She didn’t pretend to be as athletic as her beloved, and hoped she didn’t give out too soon. She turned her attention to Scootaloo, and saw her face scrunched up as if in agony, her teeth gritted, sweat on her brow.

“Oh no, Sc’taloo!”

“Haaaaahhh! Nggh!”

“You’re v’ry pinchy,” managed Sweetie worriedly, and then gasped, for Scootaloo wailed and bore down on her stallionhood ferociously. “Oh g’sh!”

“Oh, do the thing, ngghhh! Please, please, give me that…”

Sweetie’s eyes were wide and alarmed. “B’t I can’t bite y’r wing and th’s at the s’me t’me…”

Scootaloo trembled under her, and the little pegasus seemed on the brink of some dreadful climax, the flavor and character of which was up for grabs. Her wings stuck up rigidly, vibrating, fluffed out and disheveled already. Sweetie thought fast. She bent her head, and nuzzled those wings as hard as she could, rubbing them with the end of the magic bit and jabbing the end of the metal cylinder against the trembling wing shanks.

Scootaloo’s lean orange body jolted. “Haaaahhh!”

Sweetie felt a sharp clench onto her unyielding hardness. For a moment, her expression seemed just like Rarity’s, sly and experienced, and her horn glimmered and began to glow. Unicorn lovers had more than teeth and hooves—if their magic was dexterous.

Scootaloo’s face was scrunched up, troubled, longing. Sweetie began to break a sweat as she resolutely thrust her hips, shifting that unnatural stallion bulk inside Scootaloo’s pussy while devoting her attention to another thing. Magic glow surrounded one of Scootaloo’s feathers, tugged sharply at it. The little pegasus screamed, legs shaking. She began to kick her forelegs and struggle, but then the magic suddenly released her feather and reformed much farther back, and pinched her taut butt-cheek even while the wielder of that magic continued to penetrate her seemingly up to her chin. Sweetie nipped with her magic right where she’d nipped Scootaloo to make her a compliant mare, on exactly the same spot.

Scootaloo made a croaking sound, an indrawing of breath, and was shocked into passivity not because it was so very painful, not because she suddenly felt Sweetie dangerous or hostile: in a way, it would have been easier if that was true. It wasn’t like that, it was like her insides suddenly liquified, turning her to butter, feathery girly surrender to the imposing stallion that mastered her and penetrated her so deeply and boldly. Scootaloo felt like she was struggling along in some stream, trying to stay afloat and aware of who she was, only the stream was in a cave and it was in the dark and she was totally disoriented and couldn’t tell which way was up—and then, when Sweetie’s magic nipped her rump again, the feelings welled up and sucked her under, into a dark swirling cave where the air was totally gone and she would never return as herself again. Pleasure was drowning her remorselessly.

She moaned like a lost soul, shuddering, and Sweetie Belle grinned around the bit. There was no mistaking the sound of a mare about to lose her mind to orgasm. Sweetie had been there and treasured it beyond anything. Reverently, she bowed her head, focussed her magical energies, and began thrusting fiercely inside Scootaloo, while her magic reached out and bit down firmly on her beloved’s wing shank—and Sweetie dripped sweat while she made her horn simulate eagerly gnawing pony teeth, taking Scootaloo roughly, just the way she liked it.

Scootaloo’s world exploded.

Her body bucked underneath Sweetie from orgasm alone, and she let out wild whinnying screams that weren’t even like vocalizations, more like the sounds of a body wracked by unendurable pleasures—guttural shrieks as huge breaths forced themselves from Scootaloo’s lungs in sudden, hysterical hyperventilation. Her tail thrashed against Sweetie’s crotch, her butt clenched around the deeply plumbing stallionhood, her tight little vagina went ballistic in crazed spasms. From the outside, it looked like Scootaloo had come harder than she’d ever come in her life.

From the inside, she knew she had, to the extent she knew anything. She’d been sucked under into that underwater cave, but it had turned out to be a bomb. All her intentions to tough it out, to ride out the experience with style and personality, were obliterated in a white-out of mind-mangling proportions. She reeled, a speck of identity in a maelstrom of carnal sensation that swamped her until she didn’t even know who she was.

Slowly, the world began to return.

She was trembling violently, feeling weak and submissive, barely able to remain standing. The biggest horniest stallion in the whole world was clasping her possessively around the waist, his huge fat cock prying her wide, and with a shudder of mysterious awe, Scootaloo realized she could feel his come in her, sticky and wet inside her womb, where he’d gushed it when he came. Her womb. Stallion cock. Spurted into. Deep inside…

Scootaloo drew a shuddering breath.

“…so messed up…” she whimpered.

“I love you,” breathed Sweetie in her trembling ear.

Scootaloo sobbed, and Sweetie’s ears quirked in alarm.

“Sc’taloo? Is ev’rything okay?”

The little pegasus panted, dropping her head, and wouldn’t answer. Sweetie began to panic.

“Sc’taloo! T’lk to me!”

Her mate’s head turned, and she was looking into eyes like she’d never seen, those violet eyes wide and defenseless and drinking her in.

“I love you so much,” said Scootaloo in a frightened little voice. She couldn’t stop shaking.

“Wh’t happened?”

Scootaloo’s lip quivered.

“Did it h’rt, should I stop?”

Scootaloo shook her head frantically, her eyes widening. Everything in her soul demanded she wallow in that sensation of thick horsecock stuffing her, the warm goopy stallioncome coating the walls of her womb, and unthinkingly she clung to it like she had no will at all. Then, as if stepping outside herself, she saw herself reacting that way—and her eyes flooded with tears, and she could only bray like some bereaved donkey.

“SOOO MESSED UUUUPP!” she bawled, shaking in Sweetie’s attentive embrace.

That tore it. Sweetie Belle let go, spitting the bit out onto the ground and releasing Scootaloo, who dropped and curled up in a little ponyball as Sweetie watched in horror.


“Hold me!” sobbed her beloved, and Sweetie was right there, wrapping the trembling pegasus in a comforting embrace, tears coming to her own eyes in empathy, though she could not understand what had happened.

“Was I too rough?” she asked. “I’m so sorry, just so sorry!”

Scootaloo shook her head, twisted and looked at Sweetie again, and there was that expression like some timid but worshipful bunny, so unlike the Crusader she loved.

“Well, then,” said Sweetie, “is it, is it… are you mad that my dick was bigger than yours?” She pouted. “Silly thing! It just figures that such a weird strange thing gave me such a ridiculous penis, just to show how wrong it would feel.”

“It’s not that it was bigger,” stammered Scootaloo. “It’s that… it’s that…”

Sweetie waited, biting her lip with anxiety.

“It’s that mine wasn’t there!” sobbed Scootaloo, and hid her face.

Sweetie’s ears quirked to the sides in worry and confusion. “Huh?”

“You made me your mare, okay?” sobbed the little pegasus. “You happy? I can never go back. How am I gonna face my Mom? My whole life is a lie. I’m, like, a, a… a Fluttershy, inside! I gotta have more of that, I can feel myself wanting it, everything I ever knew is wrong…”

Sweetie hugged her tighter as she cried. “What in the world are you talking about, Scootaloo?”

The pegasus filly pulled herself together, gulping. “This is so messed up…”

“Stop it!” begged Sweetie. “This is not the Scootaloo I know!”

At that, a hint of the old Scoots returned. “You noticed too, huh?” she said bitterly. “It’s not fair, it’s so not fair…”

“Stop, stop! Talk to me. Why do you feel you’re so different, why is that so bad?”

Scootaloo’s face was misery. “Everything I know about myself was wrong. It was a lie. I thought I was this brave tough pony that my Mom loved and I could face stuff and, and have a marefriend and be sexy like my Dad… and all of a sudden, blooey. It’s not fair!”

“What? Explain!” pleaded Sweetie, perplexed.

“I liked it,” muttered Scootaloo.


“I LIKED it!” wailed Scootaloo, heedless of any listeners. “I’m not even me! I’m some new vagina person I don’t even know! Fuck me again, I can already feel myself wanting it! I want to feel that big cock gushing pony come—urrk!—into me!”

Sweetie clouted Scoots on the head with a hoof, producing a squawk and a “What was THAT for?”

“You’re talking crazy and scaring me, that’s what it was for!” said Sweetie. “You’re shaking. You look really sick. Scootaloo, I can have big orgasms without this much fuss, what is wrong with you? This is all because you’re a mare now that I came inside you and made you come that way? How can you find it this gross, Scootaloo, after you came so hard?”

Scootaloo looked away, miserably. Sweetie’s horn lit up. A small cylinder of metal drifted slowly, bashfully, in front of Scootaloo’s eyes.

“Would it make you feel better to hold this?”

The orange pegasus hesitated, her eyes filling with tears, and then she’d snapped at the bit and curled up again, Sweetie embracing her protectively. But she wasn’t the only one, for it was like Scootaloo had curled protectively around her artifical ponycock, shielding it from harm.

“I c’n pr’tend w’th you, Sweetie,” she murmured, quietly. “Y’ll st’ll let me.” She sniffled, wiping away a tear with the back of an orange hoof.

Sweetie’s heart went out, though her confusion was dreadful. “Please let me try and understand. You’re so upset because you’re a mare now, because you came that hard, so your whole life is a lie? And now you have to be Fluttershy instead of you?”

Scootaloo’s voice was bitter. “I’m not a stupid pony, Sweetie. I felt that. It broke my whole world, how can I go back? I’m not who I thought I was.” Her face twisted. “I turned to goo. To girly goo, filled with stallion goo. It was DISGUSTING. I can still feel my body wanting it.”

Sweetie’s hoof clonked her head again, more gently. “So what?”

Scootaloo turned, ready to argue, and her challenging gaze was more like the Scootaloo that Sweetie knew and loved. “What do you mean, so what? I’m a disgusting puddle of girly, deep inside!”

“I mean so what!” said Sweetie. “Nopony has to know. You can still be my brave stallion, okay?”

“I’ll know,” complained Scootaloo. “This is a lie. It doesn’t matter how bad I want it. Yours was even bigger and you think it’s silly, none of this is real…”

“Maybe,” said Sweetie Belle, “instead of thinking all that stuff about what it means to be a mare with new mare feelings, you should think about what it means to be you.”

That silenced Scootaloo. She stared angrily into the deepening dusk, in the quiet of the outskirts of the Everfree Forest, holding the stolen magic bit in her teeth and feeling the comforting solidity of the magic-induced stallionhood it gave her, and all the while deeper in her body the femaleness lurked, ready to tell her who she could be, capable of laying her out with devastating biological commands that made no sense in her life.

Sweetie hugged her, unshakably, saying nothing more as Scootaloo thought, and thought, and thought.

Finally, the little pegasus’s lips parted around the magic bit, and she spoke to herself without releasing the grip her teeth had on the magical creation.

“Well, th’n,” she breathed, “I’m the tr’th, y’re the lie,” and she set her jaw determinedly.

“Were you talking to me?” said Sweetie.

“No,” said Scootaloo, “I w’sn’t.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I’m g’nna be y’r stallion. And the p’ny my Mom l’ves.”

Sweetie hugged her tighter. “I’m so happy! Be my stallion, it really was way better for me that way. I don’t know what you see in it at all, it wasn’t that great being male, the orgasm was so lame! I like being a quivering puddle of mare for you, and your Mom would love you any way you are…”

Scootaloo stirred, looking back at Sweetie, and her gaze was challenging again. “And we c’n n’ver g’ve this back. I need it. Pr’mise.”

Sweetie gulped, startled. “Really?”

Scootaloo nodded, grimly. “Th’s ‘s me. Y’r stallion. We need th’s, we don’t g’ve it back.”

Sweetie’s heart fluttered, but seeing her Scootaloo back from the strange realms of weepy girlyness, proud and determined once more, was bait too tempting to resist. Scootaloo was truly her stallion, clasped in her hooves, and needing her loyalty and support.

“Never,” said Sweetie. “We’ll hide it out here somewhere. It’s yours now. It’s you, now.”

Scootaloo held her eye for another moment, demanding that loyalty silently, searching Sweetie’s soul for it—and then, finding nothing but pure mare-ly submission and devotion in her unicorn mate’s gaze, turned again in satisfaction and let out a deep shivery sigh of relief, and Scootaloo lay in Sweetie’s embrace, safe.

Admittedly, they were still lying quietly in the Everfree Forest, but there would be time to sneak back out, and no sound of anything anywhere nearby, and they were concealed in underbrush, so neither pony felt any need to break their quiet contemplation.

After a few thoughtful minutes, Scootaloo’s head turned again, questioningly.

“Yes?” whispered Sweetie.

“Can we st’ll do it th’ other w’y s’metimes, and don’t tell anyp’ny?” whispered Scootaloo.

Sweetie’s ears quirked. How to agree without leading Scootaloo back into that girly morass that she seemed to despise so much? Finally, she had it.

“If you earn it!” she whispered, and nipped Scootaloo’s ear.

Scootaloo squirmed, giggled, and relaxed back against her love, deeply content, and the darkness enfolded them in curtains of privacy.

As Applejack set out their dinner, while Rainbow Dash still dawdled upstairs playing with Northern Spy and letting her nurse for her dinner, Apple Bloom brought it up.

“Soooo, Big Macintosh,” she said, “I was jes’ thinkin’…”

“Eyup?” said Big Macintosh placidly, licking his lips as he eyed the delicious salads with their tart apple dressing.

“You know, when I brung Fluttershy around to th’ fields, and you was workin’, and she said hello and then run off apologizing on account of you was busy and all…”

Big Macintosh lifted an eyebrow, inquiringly.

“Well,” said Apple Bloom, “did ya have any… feelin’s?”

“Feelin’s?” blinked Big Macintosh.

Apple Bloom gulped. “Stirrin’s, maybe.”

“How so?”

“You know!” said Apple Bloom, blushing. “Seein’ that perty, uh, tail and everything, all sashayin’ away from you…”

“I declare, Apple Bloom!” said Applejack. “Y’all tryin’ to fix up Big Macintosh with Fluttershy?”

“Who’s trying to fix up Big Macintosh with Fluttershy?” said Rainbow Dash, trotting downstairs to join them, accompanied by Spy who still tried to stick her head under Dash’s belly and drink her milk, even as Dash descended the stairs.

“Apple Bloom is!” chuckled Applejack. “Listen at her, now!”

“All I wanted to know was if he had feelin’s!” protested the filly.

“Well, Fluttershy’s pretty well set up with Pinkie Pie,” smirked Dash, “so I’m not sure how much good ‘feelings’ would do him.”

Granny Smith snorted. “Th’ ponies in this town!” she said, and shook her head, rolling her eyes. Big Macintosh shot her a nervous glance.

“You tryin’ to tell us somethin’, Apple Bloom?” teased Applejack. “Ya joining the ranks of the grownups all of a sudden? They do say us Apple mares is late bloomers but we make up for it in a hurry.”

“But what if I don’t want you to hurry?” said Rainbow, and then reined it in at a glance from Granny.

“Watch it,” said the old mare. “Even if Apple Bloom is goin’ into her natural changes that’s no call for frivolity. Maybe she’ll fly straighter than some ponies around here as got themselves wings an’ everythin’.”

Rainbow glowered, and Applejack bit her lip watching her, but the blue pegasus controlled herself and only said, “What’s for dinner?”

“It’s okay, Apple Bloom,” rumbled Big Macintosh. “You might like getting interested in colts, even if your sister gonna tease you about it.”

Apple Bloom was bright red with embarrassment at how the whole thing had been turned around to reflect on her supposed sexual ravenousness that hadn’t even happened, and something snapped. “Oh, really?” she squeaked. “Maybe you can tell me all about that!”

Big Macintosh froze. Applejack said, “What?”

“You can’t make fun of me when I ain’t done nothin’ and it’s Big Macintosh actin’ all scandalous and stuff!” wailed Apple Bloom. “It ain’t fair!”

“What, with Fluttershy?” blinked Rainbow Dash.

Apple Bloom realized she’d crossed a line. Granny Smith was staring at her sharply, and Big Macintosh would only look down at his plate, and Apple Bloom tried to do likewise, but she hadn’t bargained on Applejack.

“Honey, don’t be upset! Everythin’s gonna be all right. Now, what give you that idea? I confess I ain’t seen Big Macintosh doing the least little thing scandalous. He would never! Maybe, jes’ maybe, you owe him an apology?”

“The lipstick on his butt!” muttered Apple Bloom. “I ain’t givin’ no apology, y’all can go whistle up a tree ‘cos it ain’t me that done nothin’ wrong!”

Big Macintosh’s eyes were panicky. He began to back out of the room, but unfortunately it brought him near Rainbow Dash, whose eyes were alight with mischief, and her hoof shot out to slap his massive rump. She squeaked, “Hey! She’s right!” and held out a blue hoof with a red smear across it.

Applejack’s jaw dropped. “Big Macintosh, what in the world is this? Ya gildin’ the lily? You are already red, sugarcube!”

“You see? You see?” cried Apple Bloom. “That’s why I brought Fluttershy, but she wouldn’t help me, she just went home again!”

“What the heck are you talking about?” said Rainbow Dash. “Why Fluttershy?”

Apple Bloom was scarlet with insult and embarrassment, her pulse pounding in her ears. “Because!”

Big Macintosh whimpered. Applejack said, uncertainly, “Because what, honey?”

“Because my friends say Big Macintosh is a big fag-pony who takes it up the butt from Braeburn, and I tole them my brother is big and strong and it can’t be true, but they say he musta put lipstick on there to cover up a bite mark like if he was a mare, and it must have been Braeburn helping him because Braeburn was just around and he run away outta town, so they think Braeburn musta helped him with somethin’ else too, namely makin’ Big Macintosh his little filly, and I just can’t believe it! Big Macintosh, you don’t ever lie, tell us it ain’t true!”

Apple Bloom panted, having delivered this speech in a single breath, and gazed up at her beloved older brother. Applejack stared at him as well. Rainbow Dash’s jaw dangled in amazement, and Granny Smith’s gaze slowly, unwillingly turned to take in the hulking red stallion.

His face was a mask of horror. He gulped, but he could not speak. Sheer panic was in his eyes.

“Uh,” said Applejack, “you okay there, big fella?”

Then, she cringed, and Rainbow Dash ducked and covered Northern Spy instinctively, for Granny Smith had raised a hoof and smashed it right down onto her dinner plate, shattering it and sending food flying everywhere. They stared in terror at the old lady, whose nostrils were flared, whose mouth was a thin hard line, whose eyes were slits.

She took three breaths through clenched, gritted teeth, and quietly turned to leave.

“Granny!” cried Applejack, and then froze at the look Granny gave her.

“This one’s too much,” said the old mare. “Ah was wrong. To hell with y’all.”