Rarity's Colt

by Mocha Star


Dinner

The rest of the night went well for them both; with Rarity in a much better mood and Snickers knowing that he was in a sexually open society, they both seemed to have come to terms with aspects of the situation. After a small lunch to hold him over until supper, Rarity sewed him a new outfit he only wore the front of, claiming it was even better than the last since using the toilet was at best inconvinient with everything covered. 

Supper was a new experience for him, being served an actual meal of baked fish with vegetables and rice and a small glass of wine that Rarity shared with him. He cleaned his plate and while drinking his second glass of wine, the limit she said he’d have in a meal, he told her about his time with Rainbow.

“Well, I must say that your day has been full of experiences. I, myself, can honestly say I’ve never been held down and had a garden hose held over my face while Pinkie Pie washes my eyes out, but now I can add that to my list of things Pinkie has done that she shouldn’t have. She does know pony eyes are quite durable, being one of the largest parts of our bodies and always exposed as they are.”

Snickers flinched. “Yeah, that’s pretty gross. When I saw a chart at the doctor’s office when I was picked up last week, she told me about pony anatomy and I freaked out when I learned that pony eyes are plates and our pupils just slide around just below the surface. One inch thick so our brains have space… so fucked up.”

Rarity hummed in thought. “You know, I think it’s time I get you a swear jar. Beginning at that last word, you’re owing one bit. It may not seem like much, but when you can’t buy your treats and your friends stop buying them for you, you’re going to want to stop adding money to the jar,” she turned in her seat and her magic glowed on two cupboards pulling out a jar and lid. A knife stabbed through the lid and replaced itself in a cutting block, then she screwed the lit tight.

Rarity placed the jar between them on the table and her horn glowed brightly surrounding the jar. “There, now you can’t break it by normal means, if you try to open it I’ll know, and you can’t shake any out, if you get that clever idea.” Rarity levitated one bit from her saddle bags in the next room and with a plink sound, dropped it into the jar. 

“You are allowanced eight bits a week, should you swear them all, then you’ll have extra chores or duties to make up for them. Do you have any questions?”

Snickers looked in the jar and reached for it. Rarity nodded that he could take it, then Snickers lifted it over his head and threw it at the floor. It bounced once and rolled to the far wall. “Huh, nope. Nothing to add, you know your stuff.”

Rarity brought the jar back to the table. “Yes, everypony I make these for do that first. None have broken one and I’ve yet to hear of one breaking. It’s not a challenge I make, but a fact I state,” Rarity giggled. “That rhymed.” Snickers downed the last of his wine and slipped from the chair onto the floor, swaying slightly. “Oh, my. Are you not used to drinking? I was under the impression you were…”

“I was, but not as a pony,” he took a step and sat down, leaning to the side before falling over. “Heh, drunk off a thimble. If Mike could see me now.”

Rarity picked him up and placed him on her back. “Well, whoever Mic is, I’m certain they’re not a good influence for you if they encouraged you to drink at your age.”

Snickers patted her side. “I wasn’t a colt always, lady.”

“Oh, Lady, is it? What about yesterday when you said I wasn’t one?” Rarity snarked back.

“I don’t remember what you’re talking about, but you gotta nice butt,” he made a hiss sound, “sways like the trees by the ocean. If I was ten years older,” Snickers giggled and snorted.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “If you were ten years older you’d be older than me, and still probably wouldn’t have a chance. You, young colt, are on half rations for wine until you gain tolerance. It’s off to bed for you, I’ll have to check on Sweetie tomorrow with you. First, before you go to bed you must use the toilets and in your state I’ll accept nothing else.”

“Awe, but mo~m, I don’t gotta go,” Snickers whined.

A grin tugged Rarity’s lips until they stung. “Oh, certainly you can manage. I’ll even give you your privacy, as long as you don’t slip as Sweetie did.”

“Psh, I dun gotta squatta pee,” Snickers yawned and she felt him slacking on her back.

“Now, now. We’re nearly to the bathroom, then you can do your business and go to bed in your own bed.”

He was nearly asleep, the alcohol taking its toll faster than Rarity thought it would since he started swaying. Snickers whined and hugged her neck. “I wanna sleep with you.”

Rarity placed him standing over the toilet. “Well, perhaps in the future. Tonight your bed is only for you, darling. Now, hurry and go so I can take you to bed.” Snickers blearily looked at where he was then went, flushing with the press of a pedal. He stumbled back and Rarity turned around. “Oh, darling, what’s wrong?”

Snickers was pouting and trying to keep his eyes open. “I’m sorry,” he looked at Rarity, “please tell Sweetie I’m sorry. I’ll never hurt her again, and I’ll be a good nephew and brother and I’ll keep her safe forever, just like I promised in Harmony.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet of you to say. Okay, up you go,” Rarity carried him to his room and turned down his bed, tucked him in, and gave him a kiss on his forehead after brushing his forelocks out of the way. She remembered a moment later and slid his shirt off leaving him naked and asleep in his bed. “And that’s that… May the sweetest dreams find you.”

She left the room and turned off the light, leaving the door open a crack so she could peek in on him if need be. With that, Rarity returned to the kitchen and cleaned up, her evening winding down herself she retired to the showroom, lay on her duvet, and began to read new fashion magazines from national distributors.