Tilt

“It’s like… there are no rules!” said Lyra, entranced.

Outside, all was quiet under a blanket of snow. Inside, four unicorns sought to deepen their budding relationship. Not Trixie and Twilight, perhaps, for their bonds already ran deep. Not Trixie and Twilight and Rarity, for their bondage ran deeper. But Trixie and Twilight and Rarity and Lyra—there were things about that which remained unexplored.

Eventually, meeting in cafes and shops and cider-halls, flirting while listening to Applejack’s laments of how unbearable it was to have grounded Rainbow Dash around, watching Pinkie Pie fawn over Fluttershy as she grew huger and huger… wasn’t enough.

They’d gathered in Rarity’s inner sanctum, and Lyra’s eyes had widened as she took in the bridles, the spurs, the whips and riding crops on display. She hadn’t flinched, but her dainty jaw hung open in astonishment at the diversity of perversity on display, and she’d seemingly drawn some conclusions about the wildness of proceedings.

Rarity coughed. “Goodness! Where to begin? Certainly there are rules. Consensuality is paramount! I understand your confusion, dear…”

Trixie grinned. She sat back on her haunches, dressed in her Great and Powerful robes and her pretty hat, and she grinned at Lyra, eyes narrowed in a predatory way. “Would you like for it to seem like there are no rules?”

Rarity turned to her. “Mistress, we should…”

As Lyra watched in amazement, Rarity fell silent at a snarl from Trixie, whose gaze flicked over to rivet her slave to the spot.

“Girl spoke,” accused Trixie. Rarity gulped, as Trixie rose and walked languidly over toward her.

Rarity blinked rapidly. “I merely… ahhh!”

The back of Trixie’s hoof smacked her across the muzzle, and she fell silent.

“Girl does not speak without permission. Trixie does not think you understand your situation. It is pay-back time! Twilight?”

Twilight Sparkle trotted forward, and Lyra boggled. Twilight was dressed in an elaborate bridle and tack arrangement, all shiny black straps and gleaming metal buckles—Rarity’s finest. “Yes?” she said.

Trixie yawned. “Shall we teach the girl’s new toy a few things about her?”

Twilight looked thoughtful. “It could come as sort of a shock,” she said, and looked at Lyra carefully.

Lyra’s eyes yearned, strange desires seething within those golden orbs. Twilight knew she wasn’t the most sophisticated pony about interpersonal things, but even she sensed the hunger.

“Lyra? I think Trixie’s going to dominate Rarity for you. Specifically, from the way she’s smirking, she… is probably going to put Rarity’s tongue to use.”

Lyra glanced back and forth between the three unicorn mares, as Twilight continued.

“Um… I’m guessing you’re not averse to that. I should probably fill you in about something… Rarity finds doing that degrading. But Rarity gets off on being degraded…”

Rarity blushed harder and harder, biting her lip. Trixie’s grin grew fangs.

Lyra gulped.

“Is she good at it? It’s… been a while.”

“Oh my gosh, yes,” said Twilight. “So… you up for that sort of thing?”

Lyra panted, and hopped into the air off all four hooves, bouncing fillyishly with excitement—and then she’d dashed forwards, leaping onto the bed, and then kicking her hind legs off it. She twisted around, sitting upright in an odd, unponyish posture, and then settled back with every sign of satisfaction, parting her legs expertly and wriggling her hindquarters, her tail flicking enticingly.

“Uhh…” said Twilight, taken aback, “I guess you’ve done this before!”

Trixie’s magic glowed, and a whip floated up into view. “Of course she has, Twilight darling. Even I noticed how she was with…”

“Uht!” said Rarity, and Trixie stopped.

She considered, and said, “Trixie apologizes for nearly bringing up what may be painful memories, Miss Lyra? Far be it from Trixie to spoil your evening.”

Lyra stared down across her reclining body, legs spread toward the three kinky ponies, and flicked her tail again.

Twilight stared back—though the direction of her gaze was a tough decision. Lyra’s golden eyes gleamed and didn’t look one bit like her evening was being spoiled. At the same time, Lyra’s lovely hind legs hung open invitingly, allowing her dainty vagina to part—and wink. It gleamed as well, but more from the inviting glisten of mare nectar, seemingly a lighter and silkier blend than ponies usually offered. Twilight didn’t consider herself an expert on vagina, having stuck to Trixie and tried Rarity, but she was certain of two things: one, the beautiful spring-green unicorn’s pussy looked delightful, and two, its evening was not being spoiled, either.

Twilight checked, anyhow, because it seemed the polite thing. “Lyra? How’re you doing?”

For a moment, she reared and shied away, for the question seemed to electrify Lyra—whose eyes flared up madly, who drew a deep breath, who waved all her hooves madly as she squealed a wriggling reply…

“Eeeeee! Surrounded by sexy UNICORN mares!”

Twilight laughed out loud in relief. Rarity beamed at her adorable new pet, and Trixie grinned wickedly, brandishing the whip. “Surrounded? Trixie will show you surrounded! Hyah!”

She cracked the whip against Rarity’s alabaster rump, and Rarity’s violet eyes flew wide as she gasped, “Mistress! I really must advise that we talk over some…”

The whip cracked again, and Rarity squeaked and fell silent, Trixie staring her down. “Silence! Trixie assures you, Lyra will not be subject to any of her disciplining yet. That is your job. Lyra will be subject to your tongue pleasuring her private parts!” Trixie blinked. “Er. Lyra, do you have preferences about this? Trixie will not make her victim do anything you don’t want her to do. …which private parts do you want Rarity to lick?”

Twilight’s eyes widened, as did Rarity’s. Both stared with alarm at their reclining companion, startled at Trixie’s suggestion.

Lyra’s eyes went half lidded. She squirmed, and her neat little anus clenched. Rarity’s teeth gritted.

“Everything. Do everything!” breathed Lyra, as a drip of nectar oozed down from her pouting vulva.

The three watching unicorns exchanged a rapid series of glances. Rarity whimpered. Trixie gulped. Twilight bit her lip.

“I might want some of that Rarity tongue afterwards, so choose wisely…” said Twilight, and Rarity shot her a grateful look.

Trixie snorted. “Hah. Off the hook. This time! Be aware, girl, Trixie has paid close attention to what we’ve just seen!”

Rarity hung her head, peering sidelong at Trixie, until a gentler flick of the whip goaded her forward.

“You heard her, girl! Trixie expects your full effort—and study well, because you will be more fully unleashed on some other day!”

Rarity stepped forward, to stand between Lyra’s legs, batting her eyelashes. She licked her lips, uncertainly.

“She really is very good,” said Twilight, encouragingly.

The whip cracked against Rarity’s ass again, and she squealed and stuffed her face between Lyra’s legs.

“She is stalling! But not any longer!” exulted Trixie.

Lyra arched her back in pleasure, letting her legs splay wide, her tail twitching with delight under Rarity’s chin. That lovely, elegant mare had thrust stiffened tongue right into her! Hot breath washed Lyra’s clit, and then the next moment Rarity had withdrawn and was bathing that proud, happy clitoris in tongue-fondles, slippery flesh nuzzling alongside it and coaxing it to further stiffness. Lyra gasped in ecstacy. It had been too long, too long… but now her body was being worshipped again, and expertly at that.

Twilight and Trixie glanced at each other, and Twilight licked her lips. “Ooooh…”

“Care for a taste, Mistress?” suggested Trixie.

“Funny you should say that…” said Twilight, a demure smile flickering around her muzzle. She began to walk around Trixie, as if to flank Lyra and Rarity on the opposite side, but she didn’t even get halfway. Instead, her head dipped quickly behind her marefriend…

“Nnngh!” cried Trixie. “Didn’t mean me!” She panted, staring unfocused into space as Twilight’s little tongue explored between her labia.

“Are you complaining?” said Twilight. She fell silent again, apart from the little wet noises.

Trixie set her hooves apart a little more, and her tail flicked eagerly, as Lyra watched with shining eyes. “Nhhh! Oh, there, right there…”

“Mmmmm…” crooned Twilight, leaning in, working her tongue aggressively. One of her rear hooves lifted as she bent her neck, nuzzling Trixie’s nethers.

Lyra thought she had never seen anything so adorable, but her attention was quickly distracted—Rarity’d thrust her tongue deep again, and she too was nuzzling, seemingly transported by the delights of Lyra’s taut vagina. Lyra glanced down and met Rarity’s eye, and both unicorns had a wild look to them, their sensual natures on fire with lust and arousal. It seemed like Trixie’d forgotten to whip Rarity into action, but it no longer mattered—the elegant fashionista’s mane was slightly disheveled, she made soft moaning sounds, she bared her teeth and nibbled fondly at Lyra’s swelling vulva, tenderly grasping Lyra’s mons in her teeth before returning to her eager, voracious licking.

Trixie was observing this. “Trixie ought to make her…”

“No,” objected Twilight, “remember what I said.” Her head emerged from behind Trixie, and she licked her lips happily, for they were lightly glazed with pussy-juices from her kisses. “I have a better idea. She said everything, right?” She stepped up to whisper in Trixie’s ear, and Trixie blinked and grinned madly.

Lyra shivered and gasped as Rarity’s tongue fondled her inner walls again, but when she looked down, she couldn’t see that elegant coiffed mane any more. Instead, Trixie was on her right, and Twilight on her left, smiling up at her, their horns crossed as they positioned themselves. They bumped noses, giggled, exchanged a kiss—and two unicorn mouths lowered together onto Lyra’s stiffened nipples.

And, as Lyra’s eyes took in the sight of three pretty unicorn horns crossing, blue, lilac and white, Rarity began suckling on her aroused clit with a special insistence, even while Twilight Sparkle nuzzled her breast with eyes closed and suckled in turn on her nipple with naive tenderness, and Trixie’s teeth closed teasingly upon the other nipple as her tongue tickled its tip…

“Unnnhhh!” moaned Lyra, her personal areas utterly ravaged by a team of kinky unicorns. She couldn’t take her eyes off those three bobbing, dipping horns crossing in her field of vision, Twilight’s and Trixie’s horns bumping and rubbing each other obscenely as they peered up at her and redoubled their efforts, their horns glittering with their arousal.

Lyra’s body bucked under them once, then twice. Tendons stood out in her neck, she gritted her teeth in unbearable ecstacy, and then, with a ragged shriek, she cut loose, her body jolting rhythmically as she came, hard, and squirted magic horn-gasm across the wall behind her.

Trixie grinned as she nibbled on Lyra’s breast, and her horn glowed too, but not in horngasm—she lifted the whip, and lashed Rarity with it, goading the squealing mare on to fiercer cunnilingus. And again, as Lyra’s orgasm stretched out amazingly, forcing Rarity into manic pleasurings of Lyra’s quivering marehood, which juddered and winked spastically against Rarity’s frantically busy tongue.

Twilight’s eyes went wider and wider as she watched the arc of horngasm spray the wall. Gradually, she lifted her mouth from Lyra’s shuddering breast, and she used her horn against Trixie’s, to lift Trixie’s head as well. Their eyes met, and turned again to where Lyra continuously blasted the wall with magic. Twilight gulped.

Rarity hadn’t got the message yet. Maddened by Trixie’s lashing and the frenzy of the dainty vagina she buried her face in, she moaned drunkenly as she suckled and licked pony privates, not looking up, her heart pounding and her eyes squeezed shut. Trixie nudged her, but it only encouraged her to try harder. Twilight’s eyes were like saucers.

“Girl!” snapped Trixie, and Rarity lifted her head.

She looked upon a bed headboard, and a wall, that was ridiculously scorched with horngasm, behind Lyra’s shuddering body. Lyra’s face was contorted, and still she ejaculated, and from Trixie’s and especially Twilight’s expression, something horrifying and wondrous had just happened. Rarity could only stare as Lyra sprayed a last trailing-off gout of magic at the wall, and collapsed backwards in a limp prostrate heap, her breath rasping, hooves twitching feebly.

“Sweet merciful Celestia,” breathed Twilight Sparkle, “that’s so fucking hot…”

Trixie shook her head in disbelief. “How is that even possible? Trixie has never even heard of the like! Girl, cheer up, your efforts were more than rewarded…”

She trailed off. Rarity’s lip was quivering. “Did.. did we hurt her?” she said.

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Oh my gosh. Good thinking, Rarity! Lyra? Lyra, are you okay?”

Lyra made a feeble croaking noise, unable to lift her head.

“Mistress!” said Trixie. “Can you save her? Is she in danger?”

Twilight leaned over, studying Lyra’s face. Her cheeks ran wet with tears, and the rasping sound of her breath was alarming, and Twilight looked back at her friends, saying, “She’s not gonna be in danger while I’m around…” She turned back. “Lyra! Do you need mouth-to-mouth resuscitation?”

She leaned down, and Lyra struggled to lift her head—and kissed Twilight with desperate fervor, before collapsing again, limp as a rag.

“Call me… Heartstrings…” she croaked, and sagged, quivering all over.

“Awww!” went Trixie, much of her usual edginess dropping away as if melted by the sensual waves of pleasure emanating from the obliterated mare’s body sprawled before her. She clambered onto the bed and snuggled against Lyra. “Trixie would be delighted to, Heartstrings! Is that from your cutie mark? Is that your pet name?”

Twilight joined her, snuggling Lyra from the other side. “She’s like the best pet ever! Wow, I still can’t believe the way she came! That’s like, mega stallion grade horncome right there! Trixie, would you let her… DO you? Hmmm?”

Trixie blinked. “Twilight, you sexy whorse. Who’s your daddy now, hm? You finding me inadequate, Mistress? Wouldn’t you rather watch her do Rarity?”

Twilight giggled, as Rarity looked on in sudden alarm. “Oh, no no! But… Come on, you saw it! Can you imagine what that would feel like? And you know we haven’t got real stallions here so it wouldn’t stick… but oh my gosh, Trixie, can you even imagine what it would feel like to take that?”

Trixie smirked. “Mistress is in a very naughty mood. Goodness! I can’t imagine how Bon Bon ever let her go…”

“Sh! And Trixie, she’s not a unicorn!” hissed Twilight. “Lyra hasn’t had, well, an outlet for it…”

“How could she even get with a stallion?” marvelled Trixie. “She’d force it right back down his horn!”

“Must be a raging lesbian thing,” teased Twilight. “You should know!”

Lyra stirred as Trixie rubbed horns gently with Twilight, grinning wickedly. “Does my little pony Mistress want to go all the way? After watching that? Hmm?”

Rarity bit her lip, as she watched Twilight wriggle, and saw Twilight’s vag wink eagerly at the suggestion.

Lyra was gaining strength again, though she looked dazed. “Ooooh… you’re going to make love? You’re going to…” she said, and gasped.

Trixie looked her right in the eye. “Yes, Heartstrings. I’m gonna arc with Twilight and I will make her pregnant—right in front of you, while you watch.” She hesitated, and then added, “Sort of.”

Twilight hastened to explain. “We’re mares! Nothing will happen—but Trixie is a little bit like you. When we get with each other and go that far, it’s usually her that, well…”

Lyra squealed weakly. “Let me help, let me help!”

Trixie yawned, ostentatiously. “Really? So soon? Oh, my tongue is so tired from licking your nipples, Heartstrings. You want to help? Dive between dear Twilight’s lovely legs. You’ll know what to do.”

Lyra dragged herself across the bed, and Twilight parted her legs to allow the spring-green unicorn between them. Trixie glanced at Rarity, who sat frozen and staring at the scene. “Girl, you will attend to my needs, as you are so very capable of doing…”

“Cons… consarn…” said Rarity, very quietly.

At this, Twilight and Trixie both stared at Rarity, and Trixie said, “Oh, no! Oh please? No, no, I remember, I can’t… Trixie will not presume…”

“What’s the matter, Rarity?” said Twilight. Lyra paid no attention, but continued to nuzzle inquiringly between her legs, distracting her.

Rarity gulped. “No. It’s… I… Oh, Mistress!”

“Rarity, please, talk to us!” said Trixie.

Rarity gulped again, and set her jaw. “Never mind. I love you both very much. Very, very much.”

“We love you, Rarity!” said Twilight. “Ahhnnn!” She bit her lip, as Lyra’s tongue began to stroke her labia.

“Do it!” said Rarity, with determination. “Mistress, part your legs. I shan’t fail you.”

“You never fail!” said Trixie, doing so. “You… ahhh!”

Rarity shut her eyes tightly and devoted all of her attention to Trixie’s tender, quivering vagina, going after it with perhaps even more intensity than she’d devoted to Lyra’s.

Trixie turned to Twilight, kissing, ducking her head to sensually rub horn with horn, and Twilight melted into her marefriend’s embrace—and for a minute, there was nothing but their sighs and the little sounds of their kisses, the delicate touches of tongue against tongue, tongue against lips, soft and tender—while, all the time, below their waists, two other unicorn mares busily worked away at pleasuring their nethers.

The contrast was striking. Lyra’s eyes looked up over Twilight and Trixie, her nose nuzzling Twilight’s breasts, her attention rapt. She couldn’t get enough of the sight, and she quivered with excitement as Twilight kissed her marefriend, gasped little gasps, blushed in arousal, and Lyra drove her onward with tender, insistent licks, parting her labia, caressing her clit, all the while watching, watching, watching.

Rarity’s eyes remained shut, but there was a strange urgency to how she devoured Trixie’s pussy, her devotion tangible. She drove herself on, requiring no whipping or goading, possessed by determination to please the jaded, wonderful mare who owned her soul, please her at all costs—and her experience showed.

Twilight whimpered sweetly, wriggling as Lyra went after her, and Trixie rained kisses on her face and forehead, sighing, “Yes… yes, love… it’s time, beautiful one…”

They gazed into each others’ eyes. Twilight’s lips parted in a little gasp, and Trixie bared her teeth in a wicked smile. “Good, is she?”

“Oh my! Ahnn!”

“Come for Trixie, my sweet Mistress…” said Trixie, beginning to pant, her horn glittering and coruscating with building energy.

“Ah! Ahh!” squeaked Twilight, holding Trixie’s eyes in a wide, startled gaze.

“Open yourself to me,” moaned Trixie passionately. “Come on, come on!”

Rarity screwed her eyes shut harder, and the sounds of licking and suckling doubled as she and Lyra drove Twilight and Trixie to orgasm.

Twilight’s eyes held a shocked look, a look that suggested she had never truly got used to what was about to happen to her. She had spent a lifetime sequestered with her books and studies, and even when she’d let herself be intimate—which was rare—she’d treated it as moments of pleasure stolen from others, something to be fought for and won.

Helplessly, willingly, she sank into Trixie’s hungry, burning gaze, her eyes widening as her release built inexorably within her, and she could not look away.

Trixie snarled as she began to orgasm, gritting her teeth in a feral grin as she fought to hold back her magic for a few more seconds, and she no longer demanded anything from Twilight except that rapt attention, the shocked, fillyish gaze, the warmth of her right there quivering and expectant.

“I’m gonna…” squeaked Twilight.

“Oh, yes, yes…” hissed Trixie ecstatically. “You’re gonna.”

“I’m… I’m gonna… nggh! eeeeh!”

Twilight didn’t close her eyes—though Rarity screwed hers shut even tighter with an expression of terrible distress. Twilight didn’t see it, for she had eyes only for Trixie, and Trixie could see how miraculous and new it was for her love—perhaps all the more since they were there at that peak moment with other mares watching. It was as if there was a new level of intimacy through that sharing that brought back the shock of it for Twilight—the raw wonder and strange power of the experience, one she’d thought would not be hers.

Twilight squeaked fillyishly, and gushed a stream of magic from her horn, her eyes startled and vulnerable.

As she did, Trixie stiffened, emitting a strangled roar of passion, and her horn flared and blasted out its own unicorngasm, its own stream of magic—which bent to lock onto Twilight’s, and shot blinding sparks as it hit.

The two streams arced for a moment, while Twilight gave a cry like her heart had been seized in a fierce and sudden loving grip, like every part of her from horn to hoof had been galvanized by the magic-to-magic contact, a feeling that went right up a unicorn’s spine and electrified her in no more than an instant. Trixie shook from the contact as well, eyes dilating madly.

And then, hissing hot breaths between clenched teeth, Trixie concentrated and the glittering point of contact moved. It pressed hungrily down, lowering, closing on Twilight’s horn while she stared up at it in breathless excitement and alarm—and with a joyous heave of virile boldness, Trixie thrust her magic through the tip of that lilac horn and deeply into Twilight, whose magic drew back, yielding, enfolding and embracing it, and the lilac horn glowed with Trixie blue as her magic flooded Twilight’s mind and body.

“Uhhh!” cried Twilight. “Unhhh! Ohhh!” Her body writhed, possessed by the mating force, racked by orgasms of such a special quality—not merely explosions or fireworks. Twilight was lifted and thrown as if by an irresistible tide, flooded by her lover’s magic and consumed by the indescribable flavor of her magic merging with Trixie’s, the blend radiating through her body and mind with unbearable sweetness and urgency.

Lyra’s eyes dilated as well, as she looked up across Twilight’s squirming body, across that round lilac belly—knowing with visceral immediacy that inches from her nose, farther up the delicious tunnel that her tongue explored, Twilight Sparkle’s and Trixie’s horngasm arc was infusing an egg with magic, that Twilight’s body was releasing it to be fertilized by a spurt of stallion-semen, that the lovely mare body she pleasured was right that moment being made pregnant, by another unicorn mare. She was tasting Twilight while Twilight was taking Trixie’s foal.

…almost.

The horngasm-arc subsided, after a few seconds. Trixie had great power and forcefulness with it, but couldn’t begin to sustain it nearly as long as Lyra had. It was over.

Lyra watched, as Trixie nuzzled her stunned and impregnated—almost—lover. Twilight looked ruined in the most wonderful way, struggling to focus, dazed, radiant. For a moment, Lyra was filled with jealousy.

They’d been absolutely right. Even if she hadn’t been with an earth pony, that joy would be denied her, for she did surely come so hard that anypony, anything would be overwhelmed into helpless receptiveness. She could doubtless ravage any unicorn this way—but whose magic could ever enter her and flood her with such deep pleasure?

She glanced over, next to her. Perhaps Rarity felt similarly, for her hooves were over her eyes and she, too, had ceased her efforts.

Twilight let out a deep, shuddery sigh, and Trixie met it with a kiss.

Lyra nudged Rarity, and one tearful eye opened. Lyra smiled rakishly—and kissed her own Mistress (whatever a Mistress was).

“Hey. We did it,” she said.

Rarity managed a quivery smile. “So… it would appear.”


The following morning, Sweetie Belle trotted along the path, glancing up at the foreboding clouds. It looked like more snow was coming—or perhaps it was sleet and freezing rain, for the temperature had risen and turned the last week’s snows into a sodden, heavy mess.

She spotted her friend, and broke into a fillyish gallop, crying “Scootaloo! Scootaloo!”

A little magenta-maned head popped up, shovel in her teeth, and then Scootaloo spat the shovel out, and hissed, “Ssshhh!”

Sweetie pulled up, abruptly, staring at her pegasus companion. “What for?”

“Be quiet! I have to shovel the stupid walk. I’ve been talking to myself so if you’re quiet she won’t notice you’re here, if I keep on sounding the same.”

Scootaloo’s voice apparently needed to sound grumpy and mad. Scootaloo looked furious, too. Sweetie blinked. “What’s the matter? Are you having a bad day? I have some good news but it’s making me confused and I wanted to talk about it.”

Scootaloo had taken the shovel back into her mouth, and spoke around it. “J’st wonderful, th’nks for asking…”

“Is your mom being mean to you?”

“She’s not r’lly my mother,” grumbled Scootaloo around the shovel, throwing some more snow into a pile.

Sweetie gasped. “She’s not?”

“Nuh,” snarled Scootaloo. She spat the shovel out, and yelled, “She’s a big flapping stubborn pain in the neck is what she is!”

At that, a window cracked open. “Kid! Cool it!”

“It’s not fair!” yelled Scootaloo. “You’re hurting! You totally admitted it and everything! Why can’t I help?”

“For the last time you cannot rub my wings, kid! I’m sorry I said anything!”

“If they were working you could blow all this snow away and I wouldn’t have to shovel it!”

Inside, Flight Lightning growled. “Working? You want to talk working? I need you to let me finish my breakfast in peace before I go on what, the seventeenth consecutive double shift? Why do you think my wings hurt so bad, kid?”

“So let me rub them, and make you feel better!”

“Dammit!” roared Flight. “I am not going to even get into why that is inappropriate! One day you’ll understand. Shut up and shovel!”

The window slammed shut. Sweetie cowered back in horror, but Scootaloo was totally unfazed. She just picked up the shovel, and grumbled, “See? She’s being a tot’l pain.”

Sweetie considered this. “Maybe there’s, like, a Mom disease going around that makes them a pain! That’s why I wanted to talk to you. Mine’s acting weird too.”

“Yeah?” said Scootaloo.

Sweetie nodded. “She’s making me stay with Rarity again, and that’s fun, but it’s like she’s punishing me or something. How can you punish somepony by giving them something nice? But that’s what it’s like. She’s mad and she acts like I smell funny and she doesn’t even want to talk to me but she’s letting me stay with Rarity, so I’ll be in town for a while! Are you excited?”

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. “Wh’ts up with you, Sweetie Belle? You’re extra b’ncy. Ponyville is that exciting? It’s pretty lame if you ask me.”

“Never mind that!” squeaked Sweetie. “Why would my Mom act like I smell bad?”

Scootaloo made a face, and sniffed the air. “Cause you do. Duh.” She resumed shoveling.

“I do not!”

“Oh, n’w you’re gonna be a pain, too?”

Sweetie gulped. “I… smell funny? I didn’t notice. It’s not bad… right?”

“No, it’s bad,” said Scootaloo, throwing another shovelful of snow on the pile. “Maybe you caught the plague or something?”

“Scootaloo!” squeaked Sweetie in outrage.

There was a rap at the window, and Flight’s voice came through it. “If you have friends out there, just keep shoveling, all right, sweetie?”

Sweetie Belle blinked.

Scootaloo smirked. “Not you. Me. All r’ght!” she yelled back, to Flight Lightning’s apparent satisfaction.

Sweetie’s lip quivered. “But… how can I smell bad? What did I do? I don’t want Mom to be mad at me any more. Is it really bad? Why can’t I tell? Maybe I’m sick because I feel all weird and funny…”

Scootaloo continued shoveling. “Maybe. Do you have a fever? It smells like you have a big fever from some kind of weird sickness. Don’t get near me, I don’t want to catch it!”

“Oh, this is awful,” whimpered Sweetie, “Rarity’s gonna kill me! She’ll never let me stay with her if I smell funny! Do you really think I’m sick? Maybe she’ll take care of me instead of being mad if I’m really sick.”

Scootaloo considered this. “C’tie Mark Cr’sader snow sh’veling med’cal doctor! What’re the symptoms, p’tient?”

Sweetie gulped, her eyes wide. “I feel kind of dizzy… and I can’t pay attention to things. And my mom thinks I smell funny or something. And… I have a notanitch.”

Scootaloo dropped the shovel. “What the heck is a notanitch? You really are a dictionary!”

“No, it’s not a dictionary word! But it should be! You know, when you have like a really bad itch, but it’s NOT really an itch, but it’s kind of like an itch except for it kind of isn’t?”

Scootaloo picked up the shovel again, unconcerned. “So scr’tch, then.”

“It’s…” Sweetie glanced around, fretful. “It’s my vajayjay.”

Scootaloo smirked around the shovel handle. “Does it feel awesome? If it feels awesome, you c’n explain to us what Lyra w’s talking about. Maybe y’re making babies.”

Sweetie blinked. “I don’t think so. And it doesn’t feel awesome, it’s driving me crazy! I’m afraid to do anything.”

“So scr’tch, then.”

Sweetie gulped. “But… it’s INSIDE…” she said, and bit her lip.

Scootaloo spat the shovel handle out again, staring at her in disbelief. “How you gonna scratch that? It sounds awf…” She blinked, and then a crazy grin snuck onto her face. “Sweetie! Do you know what this means?”

“Not really?”

“Cutie Mark Baby Makers are BACK! That’s it! It’s gotta be that! We’re gonna make some babies. Think about it! This has to be part of what Lyra was talking about. She said she wanted to kick holes in walls, right?”

“Right,” nodded Sweetie.

“Which sounds like something was driving her crazy, right?”

“Right!” said Sweetie, brightening.

“And she wanted to have a big penis shoved into her and make babies, which might scratch her itch if it’s like yours is?”

Sweetie’s eyes went very wide, and she whimpered.

Scootaloo wrinkled her nose. “Ew. Hang in there, Sweetie Belle. We’re going to take care of you! We need to get a penis—a Cutie Mark CRUSADER penis—and we’ll figure out what to do. This is now a top priority project!”

“Apple Bloom won’t let us,” objected Sweetie. “She won’t even admit Applejack has a penis making thing anymore.”

“You leave that to me!” said Scootaloo. “With your help, we’ll win this battle, and we’ll give you a good penis-ing and see if that helps at all!” She blinked. “Oh boy. You better not be able to get a penis cutie mark or I am so in trouble…”

Sweetie dropped her voice. “Do you really think you can get a penis cutie mark?”

“I never saw anything like that,” whispered Scootaloo. “Maybe if you get one, you have to stay inside and penis all day long so we never see ‘em?”

“That’s not even a verb,” hissed Sweetie Belle.

“Well it ought to be!” retorted Scootaloo, in a hot whisper right in Sweetie Belle’s ear. “It’s gonna be! I promise you, we are going to get you the best penising ever, and then we’ll all have babies…”

“Honey?” came a voice, and the two fillies froze.

The door opened, and out poked a magenta pegasus head, the same hue as Scootaloo’s mane but lighter. Her mane was white with streaks of lime, and her eyes were the same pale lime color and also concerned… at first.

“Honey, ya got real quiet, is everything…”

She looked at the two guilty fillies. A bird squawked in the nearby woods. Flight Lightning sniffed the air.

“Oh, no, no…”

Scootaloo turned to argue, but Flight was striding forward angrily. “Oh, no! No! Haven’t you got enough to deal with? Haven’t you got enough issues on your little plate? No! Go on, you, get out! Scram! Beat it, I said!”

Sweetie shrieked, cowering back from the angry pegasus mother that confronted her. Scootaloo jumped in front and stood her ground, glaring right back. “MOMMM!”

“Scram!” shouted Flight Lightning, and Sweetie turned tail and fled, the sounds of the furious argument fading behind her.

“Don’t you talk to her like that!”

“Don’t you talk to strange girls in heat, then! You’re not even that kind of mature yet!”

“That’s my best friend! Well, one of them!”

“Well… still! You stay out of it! Let her own family handle it, no matter who they are they’ve got to be better adjusted than this comedy of errors!”

“Who’re you calling a comedy of air?”

“Certainly not you, you’re like a tragedy of air!”

Pause.

“Oh, for… crap, crap. CRAP! Kid! I’m sorry, kid! C’mere! Please! Scootums! Baby, please!” sobbed Flight Lightning.

The voices faded as Sweetie Belle ran on, in tears.


Elsewhere, Rarity stirred. Her head rested on an awfully firm and warm pillow. She blinked, and realized it was Lyra’s crotch. Her nose snuggled Lyra’s pert green breasts, and her cheek nestled against Lyra’s tight little vag, stickily. Stickily? Rarity cringed, and peeled her face away from its naughty pillow. Lyra wriggled, but didn’t wake. Beside her, Twilight and Trixie cuddled in sleep. It was natural, thought Rarity, for Twilight to be adorable while she slept, but it never ceased to amaze her how adorable dear Mistress became in sleep…

Bathing. Immediately. Her face felt sticky. She was befouled, admittedly in a rather special way, but propriety dictated a wash…

Rarity gulped. The inside of her mouth felt just as sticky. Revolting, insufferable… if she hurried, she could slip out into the kitchen and drink some water or juice before returning to bathe. It was almost certainly too early for any customers to be waiting. Fashion never slept, but the fashionable tended to sleep in, after their own glorious debaucheries, so she’d be safe to appear outside the sanctum and raid her fridge.

She slunk out, blinking in the morning sunlight as it shone in the windows, trotting down the hall and sleepily fixated on the kitchen ahead, while some part of her mind shrieked and gibbered about the…

…dark looming figure that suddenly loomed over her, leaning down, straw hat as always hiding that little nub of a horn. Grinning, expectant, jovial, exploding out of her memory and into her horrified morning.

Father.

“Guess whose little sister is coming to visit her again!”

His eyes twitched over his shoulder. You could always follow his eyes. That told you everything, if you paid close attention. He grinned his rueful grin. Father was never really sorry. He just smiled as if he was.

Mother walked up, as if summoned by his over-the-shoulder glance. Her jaw was set, her eyes narrowed.

“Don’t even think of arguing, child, it’s important,” she said, in a voice that brooked no disagreement. “We won’t say why. WILL we?”

Father gave her the rueful grin. She wouldn’t look at him.

Rarity cowered against the wall, glancing back and forth between them in a panic.

“…apples…”

“And go wash,” said Mother. “You smell… filthy.”

Humiliated, Rarity scrambled to comply, trying to get away before she could see the contemptuous curl of her mother’s lip.