Scotchie Does Ponyville

by Captain_Hairball

First published

Rainbow Blitz and Butterscotch have been lovers for a month, but Blitz isn’t sure he’s really gay. Sick of hearing him moan about it, Blitz kicks him out and tells him to explore his sexuality until he’s sure. Hilarity and chaos ensue.

Rainbow Blitz and Butterscotch have been lovers for a month, but Scotch isn’t sure he’s really gay. Sick of hearing him moan about it, Blitz kicks him out of his own house, and tells him to explore his sexuality until he’s sure. Will Blitz and Scotch's love survive this ridiculous adventure? Will Elusive succeed in introducing the concept of underwear to a town full of nudists? Is the muffin shop really closed? Is anypony in Ponyville straight? Find out in this raucous and raunchy gay horse sex romp.

Sort of a sequel to Life After the Blitz, but if you haven't read that you should be fine.

Warning: contains drunk sex and sibling incest. All CMC and CMC-peers are over the age of consent. No Scotchies were harmed in the writing of this story.

Edited by Cerulean Starlight & Rasael.

Turned Gay by His Best Friend

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Rainbow Blitz was awakened by paws thudding across his body. He was barely conscious before at least four canine tongues were slapping against his face. It was like being pummeled by slabs of raw liver.

“Off! Off! Get off the bed!” He shouted, flailing his forelegs. Butterscotch’s dogs scattered, yelping. Some ran back downstairs, but most sat around the bed, panting and staring at him.

Sleeping over at Butterscotch’s place was taking some getting used to.

The entire downstairs was a zoo. The unruly pack of dogs were eating kibble out of loud metal bowls. Harriet the bear was pigging out on blackberries and honey. Weasels were eating fish. Lilith and her bunny cousins were discussing what appeared to be architectural plans over lettuce and carrots. Dozens of birds and small mammals were running and flapping to and from ceramic bowls of seeds, berries and worms.

Scotch was in the kitchen, eating oatmeal. He had a second bowl next to him.

He ducked his head. “Um, hi. I hope the dogs didn’t wake you up. I totally didn’t get lonely and send them up to get you. That never happened. Would you like some oatmeal?”

One of the dogs barked. Scotch smirked nervously, and pushed a bowl of oatmeal across the table towards Blitz. Blitz pulled out a chair.

“Oh, you, um, might want to wipe that chair off first. Some of the birds were sitting on it earlier.”

Blitz sighed and got a towel.

The oatmeal had butter and brown sugar and berries in it. It was pretty good. “Scotch, can you please get me some damn coffee?”

“Oh. I forgot. I’m sorry.”

Blitz munched his oatmeal and openly perved out on his best friend as he bent over to get coffee things. That sleek, lanky yellow frame. Those tight little ass cheeks. Balls so big he waddled when he walked. The epic wingspan, totally wasted on a pony who never flew over five feet off the ground if he could avoid it. They had been ‘just friends’ their whole lives until last month when, for reasons far too complicated to explain, things had changed. Now they were lovers. Blitz was Scotch’s first stallion, and only his second or third partner of any kind. As life experiences went, showing him the ropes of gay sex was up there with his first sonic rainboom.

“Oh, darn it, where did I put those filters,” said Scotch, his voice muffled by the cabinet. Blitz watched the other colt’s balls swaying as he rifled around under there, and decided they looked far too full. Something needed to be done about that. He slipped out of his chair and crawled stealthily across the kitchen floor. When he was in range, he lifted his head and struck out his tongue to cup Scotch’s left ball. Scotch yelped, and banged his head on the inside of the cabinet.

“Ouch,” he whispered, rubbing his hoof against his head.

“You okay, pal?” said Blitz.

“Yes,” said Scotch. “Please don’t stop.”

The dogs started barking.

Blitz grinned and turned his attention back to those big yellow balls. He ran his tongue over both of them, wetting them until the soft skin gleamed. He knocked them gently back and forth, and they sloshed around in there like someone had shoved an avocado into a canteen full of hand lotion. How were they so full? The two of them had been emptying them daily for weeks. Sometimes several times a day. Butterscotch might not be strong, or brave, or tough, but he was a fine example of Equestrian stallionhood where it mattered. Blitz opened his jaws as wide as they’d go and wrapped his lips around one extra-extra-large egg. He could just barely fit it in his mouth. He sucked on it, gently massaging it with his tongue, making Scotch groan.

“Oh Rainbow. Rainbow. I love you, Rainbow.”

Blitz heard his friend’s gigantic cock slapping his soft belly. His stomach rumbled. He suddenly knew what he wanted for breakfast, and it wasn’t oatmeal.

There was a knock on the door. The dogs went crazy.

“Oh, poop!” said Butterscotch. “I forgot Day Tripper was supposed to come over this morning. I’m so stupid!”

“Whlll hhhm th gth awwy,” said Blitz.

“No, Blitz. I’m not being rude to Day Tripper. He’s my best friend. I mean, my other best friend. Besides you. And Eris. And Elusive. So my fourth best friend.” Scotch wiggled back out of the cabinet, forcing Blitz to scoot back across the tile on his rump. “Could you, um, take my ball out of your mouth please?”

Blitz reluctantly complied, and Scotch went to let Tripper in, dripping spit from his sack onto the floor behind him.

“Yellow dude. Little dudes,” said Day Tripper as the dogs swarmed around him, sniffing and licking. “Blitz. Oh. Hey.” His shaggy eyebrows rose and his nostrils flared. “Am I, like, interrupting something?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” said Butterscotch, pushing the dog sniffing at his erection away with a hind hoof.

Tripper chuckled. “Whatever you say, yellow dude.” He wadded through the yelping pack into the living room. “How’re you doing?”

Blitz gritted his teeth. He had to leave for work soon, and he wasn’t looking forward to dragging a pair of blue balls through the whole day. He was still ragingly hard, and he didn’t even bother to try to hide it — just sat on his haunches letting it stick out in front of him, bobbing slightly with his pulse.

“I’m fine,” said Scotch. “Not agonizingly horny or anything. Would you like coffee? I was just about to make coffee.”

Day Tripper laughed. “I am interrupting. I can come back later, yellow dude.”

“Well, we were just about to have sex,” said Blitz.

Scotch gasped. “Blitz!”

Day Tripper laughed. “It’s cool. It’s cool. Sex is totally natural. Nothing to be ashamed of. I’ll come back later.” Blitz noticed that the green earth pony’s cock had begun to slide out of its sheath. His eyes flicked across the stallion’s body. He wasn’t in bad shape — a bit shaggy, but he had the broad, masculine body typical of so many earth ponies. Toned muscles under that fuzz, too. He worked hard on his farm. Blitz had heard he moonlighted as an artists’ model. He certainly had the body for it.

“Hey, Trip. You gay?” said Blitz.

Day Tripper’s eyes popped wide open. “I, um, don’t use labels, dude.” His eyes drifted down, and then popped back up again, trying without success to focus on Blitz’s face.

“You like the dick, though. I can tell. Why don’t you stay?”

“Blitz, dude, that’s super tempting, but I wouldn’t want to, like, impose.” His dark green cock unfurled itself to its full length.

Blitz patted Tripper heartily on the withers. “Oh, you really wouldn’t be imposing at all! Please! Stay! Buck my coltfriend! I insist!”

“I don’t think yellow dude’s into it.”

“What on earth could give you that idea?” Blitz was sitting next to Tripper. His hoof drifted across the green stallion’s flank, down his thigh, and to his cock. When the advance wasn’t rebuffed, Blitz began to move his hoof.

“Because… oh, buck, dude, that feels good… because he’s hiding under the couch, Blitz.”

Blitz sighed, and stepped away from Day Tripper. He poked his face under the edge of the couch.

“You okay under there, pal? If this is a boundary thing, we can totally renegotiate.” Was that what Dusk would say? Friendship could be so complicated.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be all right,” said Scotch. He squirmed forward until his blue eyes were just visible under the edge of the sofa. “Please continue.”

Blitz flapped back over to Tripper, wriggled up against his side, and started stroking his cock again. The dogs, wise to the dangers of interfering in Blitz’s sex life, were grouped in a ragged circle around him and Tripper, watching with keen scientific interest as the green stallion slid a hoof beneath Blitz’s undercarriage.

“You sure you’re okay with this, yellow dude?” groaned Tripper, as Blitz resumed stroking. “I’m not trying to steal your coltfriend. I just… buck, it’s been so long. I can’t… I can’t… Ahhhh!”

“It’s okay!” said Scotch. “I... um... this is fun to watch.”

“You like seeing me getting stroked off, yellow dude?”

“I love it. You’re so handsome, Tripper. Almost as handsome as Blitz. Please come for us.”

And Tripper came. Fast, hard, messily, without a hint of foreplay or even a kiss. Blitz ground his teeth in frustration. He was nowhere near coming, and the other stallion was floppy and drooling in his hoof!

“Oh wow,” said Scotch. Tripper had left a big, glistening puddle of white goo splattered across the hardwood floor. The dogs began to whimper and shuffle their feet. They knew this protein source was off limits, but damned if they understood why.

Blitz found himself in a difficult situation. He was hard and pulsing. Tripper was spent; Scotch was still under the couch, and both of them were in serious danger of getting cold hooves, leaving Blitz to either hump his own hooves or reconsider his aversion to the dogs. Desperate times, he decided, called for desperate measures. He got down on his belly, steeled himself internally, and started licking Tripper’s cum off the floor.

Tripper’s mouth fell open in fascination. “Dude, is he…”

“He appears to be,” said Scotch, wiggling his head out from under the couch to get a better look.

Tripper began shuffling his forehooves in a manner rather similar to that of the dogs. “Dude. Yellow dude. It’s hard to find a porno where somepony does that. You gotta hold on to this colt.”

“I know,” whispered Scotch, his silky baritone voice trembling with awe. “Tripper, pinch me. I must be dreaming.”

“You’re gonna have to come over here, yellow dude.” Tripper licked his lips. Blitz noticed the earth pony was hard again. He didn’t relish the taste of cold, dirty cum, but running his tongue through the thick white puddle on the floor was having the desired effect on his friends. He just had to be careful not to…

“OWTH!” yelped Blitz, sitting up, his tongue still sticking out.

“Blitzy! Are you okay?” gasped Scotch.

“Nhhho!” wailed Blitz. “Af goth a splinner in mhy tng!” The little spike of wood was clearly visible sticking out of his tongue.

Scotch eased close to his coltfriend, with the same caution he’d use approaching a wounded animal. Tripper clutched his tongue in sympathy.

“Now stay calm,” said Scotch. “I’m just going to have a little lookie, okay? I’m not gonna do anything to hurt you.”

“Ith gnna hrth!” whined Blitz, shoving his way back through the ring of dogs.

“It’s not gonna hurt, Blitzy. I just need to take a little… Alexander! Fuzzface! Stop him!”

Blitz barely had his wings spread to flee before the Great Dane and the Newfoundland were on top of him, panting calmly and looking at Scotch for further instructions. Each of the dogs was bigger than he was, so Blitz was hopelessly pinned. He winced as drool spattered in his perfectly styled mane. He tried to hide his tongue in his mouth, but it hurt too much. He looked up at Scotch pleadingly.

“Honestly. You’re such a sissy sometimes.” said Scotch. He leaned down, and gently plucked the splinter out of Blitz’s tongue with his teeth. “Does that feel better?”

“Uh huh,” said Blitz, blinking the tears out of his eyes.

Scotch grinned. “How about this?” and he ran his own tongue against Blitz’s. Tripper watched them as they moved from light tongue fencing to tonsil hockey to full-on attempting to devour each other’s faces. It was awkward. Awkward, but hot.

“So, hey, could you get your dogs off of me, though?” said Blitz, between kisses.

Scotch grinned sheepishly. “I can. Or I could do this.” Alexander and Fuzzface sniffed curiously as Scotch stepped over Blitz, pressing his flare against Blitz’s nose. “I mean, if it’s okay with you.”

Blitz blinked at the massive chocolate brown cockhead pressed so close in his face that he had to cross his eyes to get a good look at it. It wasn’t going to help him get off, but he couldn’t say no to sucking a dick like that. He opened wide. “Ahhhhh!”

Scotch let out a decadent baritone moan as he thrust his hips forward, burying his dick in Blitz’s tight, willing throat. Blitz gagged. Scotch shouted, and scurried back. The dogs hopped up, startled.

“Are you alright?” said Scotch, in a panic.

Blitz rolled his eyes, pushing himself to his hooves. “Of course I’m alright. We’ve been over this a billion times — you fuck my face, I’m gonna gag a little. I can handle it.” He looked at the clock over the couch. If he left in the next five minutes, he could still just barely make it to work in time. “Could you do me a solid and lie down on the floor for a sec, Scotch old pal?”

“You’re not upset that I gagged you with my thingy?” He lay down without hesitation.

Blitz chuckled. “Scotch. You cannot out-hardcore me. Just accept it. Now open your mouth.” Blitz shoved his long, blue cock into Scotch’s open mouth. The pretty yellow stallion’s eyes shot open as he felt his friend’s flare push past his lips and into the top of his throat. He took it like a good slut, though — jaw open, throat relaxed. He was blessed with a very weak gag reflex, and he’d grown quite used to the feeling of Blitz fucking his throat in recent weeks. Blitz closed his eyes, grinning like a fool as he felt the tight, wet passage flexing around him. He stroked the back of his coltfriend’s neck. “There’s a good Butterslut… Mmmm, yeah. Such a tight little throat. Such a sweet little face pussy.”

Scotch looked up at Blitz lovingly as his balls swung closer and closer to his chin. Tripper, struck dumb by the whole depraved spectacle, was clopping furiously, jaw hanging open.

“You… you stop that, Tripper,” said Blitz. “I’m leaving for work soon, and I want you to… unf… I want you to fuck this sweet little slut silly while I’m away. Then I’m going to make him tell me everything you… oh buck!”

Blitz felt the familiar tingle deep in his balls, which blossomed into a wave of pleasure as his cock began to squirt. He bottomed out in Scotch’s throat, pubic fluff and balls pressed against the end of his muzzle. He felt Scotch swallowing around the shaft, taking every single drop. “Oh, Butterslut,” groaned Blitz, walking back, gently pulling his cock free. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Blitzie,” said Scotch, drool dripping from his lips when Blitz had slid his cock out.

“Now, I was serious,” said Blitz, waving a hoof at Tripper. “You buck this colt, and you buck him good. I’ll know if you don’t.” He stole a messy kiss from Scotch, and hopped up into the air. “Okay, late for work. See you guys!”

And he was gone.

———

“So what did you two do?” said Blitz.

It was that night. Scotch and Blitz had eaten and played some video games, and now they were cuddled up on the couch, all alone except for dogs, birds, squirrels, and the sound of Harriet unburdening her heart to Lilith in the kitchen.

Scotch blushed. “Um… he helped me give the dogs baths.”

Blitz nudged him.

Scotch sighed. “And then we talked about what happened this morning.”

Blitz grinned a lopsided grin. “And?”

Scotch tried to roll off the couch so he could hide underneath it. He found Blitz’s thighs clamped around his middle, and his hooves resting on his shoulders.

“And?” said Blitz.

Scotch gulped, and took a deep breath.
“Thenwewentupstairstomybedroomandkissedandcuddledandwemight’vesuckedeachother’sthingiesandthenalittlewhilelaterheletmeputmythingyuphisbutt.”

Blitz narrowed his eyes at Scotch. “Okay, I think I got some of that.”

Scotch wriggled down, trying to get out of Blitz’s grasp. The motion made Blitz hard.

“What the buck are you so embarrassed about?” he said.

“Sex.” said Scotch. “Sex is shameful.”

Blitz facehoofed. “God damn it, Scotch, I love your parents, but they messed you up good. What the buck is shameful about sex?”

“It’s just shameful!” said Scotch, so fervent about his topic that he somehow didn’t notice the stiff cock nestled in his chest fluff. “I used my fourth-best friend’s body for my own pleasure! Repeatedly! I took him! And I used him! Like Harriet with a piece of meat!” He mashed his hooves together, though what he was trying to demonstrate by this gesture was lost on Rainbow Blitz.

“Really. And what did he do with your body?” Rainbow moved his hips slowly. Sudden movements startled the yellow pony, but he could be shockingly oblivious to the most obvious things when he was on a tear about something.

“Used it. Mercilessly!”

“Uh huh. Did you like it?”

Scotch blushed. “Yes. But I cheated on you!”

“With my permission, idiot. You said you sucked each other’s dicks. Did he come in your mouth?” Blitz, whose balls were always on a hair trigger, could feel tension building in the depths of his belly. Scotch somehow still didn’t realize what was going on.

“He did! His flare got big, and I couldn’t get it out of my mouth in time!” He ducked his head. “I’m getting to kind of like the taste,” he whispered.

“Unf. Tell me more about that.”

“Well, maybe it’s not so much the taste as the fact that… Blitz, are you dry humping my chest?”

Blitz nodded. “I’m surprised it took you so long to notice! Hold still, I’m almost done.”

“Um… okay. It’s not very nice for you to do that without asking.”

Blitz’s hips were thrusting vigorously now, rubbing his cock against Scotch’s fluffy fur. “Say that… say that again.”

Scotch blinked. “I said it’s not very nice for you to… ack!”

“Oh Artemis on a stttiiiiiiccck!” wailed Blitz as his balls unloaded. They were very full from thinking about Tripper and Scotch all day.

Scotch whimpered as he felt hot cum soaking his neck and the points of his shoulders. He narrowed his eyes at Blitz. “That wasn’t very nice at all. I was trying to have a serious conversation, and you frotted me!”

Blitz chuckled. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself. Anyway, you like it when I’m mean to you.”

“I’m really hard right now,” agreed Scotch.

“Then buck me like the the dirty whore I am.” He lifted his hind legs up to his ears, and wriggled his hips down until his ponut was nestled against the flare of Scotch’s cock. Scotch’s dickhead dwarfed the little opening, and pushed the buttocks aside on either side.

Scotch looked concerned. “But we don’t have any lube! It’s all upstairs!”

Blitz bumped his asshole against his friend’s cock. It slid off and bumped him in the balls. “So go in dry! I can take a little pain.”

Scotch narrowed his eyes. “Blitz. My thingy is as long as your entire tummy. If I somehow manage to get it in you will hemorrhage and die.”

Blitz grinned. “But if I live! The bragging rights!”

Scotch spread his wings and hopped up, fury in his eyes. “RAINBOW BOMBARDMENT BLITZ.” The walls shook. Glass cracked. Animals scurried for shelter. Blitz covered his ears. The Voice! Blitz hated it when Scotch used the Voice. “YOU WILL NEVER, EVER AGAIN ASK ME TO ATTEMPT TO KILL YOU WITH MY PENIS.”

“Okay, okay,” wailed Blitz. “Just stop doing that!”

Scotch flapped back down to the couch. “Okay. I’m sorry. I felt very strongly.”

“Faust, you’re going to deafen me!”

Scotch put his head in his hooves. “I shouldn’t even be doing these things with you! It’s unnatural! And I’m straight!” He folded his hooves over his eyes. “I’ve ruined our friendship with my unnatural desires! And now my friendship with Day Tripper! Faust hates me!

Blitz ground his teeth together. Not this again. He rolled over, nestled up nose to nose with his buddy, and ran a hoof through his friend’s hair. A panicked Butterscotch needed to be talked down very carefully. Luckily Blitz was a seasoned pro at this. The whole ‘bi now’ thing made it harder, though. “Deep breaths, Scotch. Faust loves everypony, right?”

Scotch nodded, tears squirting down his cheeks.

“And your mom and dad love you no matter what you do, right?”

Scotch looked confused. “I don’t know. Do they?”

Blitz patted his hoof. “They do. And I love you no matter what.” He hugged his friend close. Slimey cum squished between their barrels.

Scotch blinked. “You do?”

Blitz bonked Scotch in the head. It was time to move into phase two. “I do, you moron. You think I’ve been following you around like a lost puppy for almost a decade because it’s good for my health? I finally got you out of the damn closet, and I’m not letting you go back in.”

“Sorry,” said Scotch, rubbing his head. “But am I really gay? Am I bi? Or pansexual, whatever that is? I just feel so confused. I thought it was just you, but then I did stuff with Tripper, and now I’m not sure any more. Was I faking it when I was with the mares I was with? Am I faking it with you? Am I a repressed heterosexual?”

Blitz facehoofed. “There’s no such thing as a repressed heterosexual.”

“How would you know? You’re not a repressed anything!”

“Fine. You know what? I’m tired of this. You’re not sure if you’re really bi? Go. Go out. Find yourself.”

Scotch looked like he’d been slapped. “Are… are you dumping me?” His lower lip started to tremble.

“No, Butterslut. I’m not dumping you. I’m giving you a pass for the week. I want you to go out there, literally right now, and find somepony to spend the night with.”

Scotch’s lower eyelid twitched. “You want me to cheat on you. Again.”

Blitz grinned. “I want you to cheat on me repeatedly, until you get all the doubts about your sexuality out of your system.”

“Won’t you be jealous?”

“Nope. I know you’ll be back.”

“But tonight? It’s too late to start!”

“It’s seven o’clock. The bars don’t close for hours.”

“I’m covered in cum!”

“Good! It’s full of my pheromones! You’ll need all the help you can get.”

“But who’ll feed my animals?”

Blitz reached into the end table drawer and pulled out the 105-page perfect bound booklet Scotch had written up after the last time Blitz had wound up taking care of his animals. It had a small pink post-it note affixed to the front reading ‘on second thought just have Lilith do it’. “Seriously, I’ve got some time off work coming. If you need me, I’ll be on your couch, drinking your liquor and watching war movies on your TV. I don’t want to see your ass back here until this time next week! I mean, if it’s come home or sleep on the street, then come home, but we’ll both know you wimped out.”

Scotch sighed. “I’ll miss you.”

Blitz waved a hoof at him and fumbled for the remote control. “I’ll miss you too. Now go get washed up, pack your toothbrush, and get going. Give me a kiss before you go. And take notes! I want details when you get back. Oh, and don’t forget, the girls are coming over on Thursday!”

Ensnared by the Dressmaker

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Scotch glided over the fields towards Ponyville, mane slicked back, reeking of cologne, and carrying his overnight things in his saddlebags. Blitz was completely crazy. There was no way Butterscotch was going to do what his friend… coltfriend… whatever… had asked. But he didn’t feel like arguing.

He fluttered to the ground in front of Carousel Boutique. Because he did have questions about being gay, and nopony was gayer than Elusive. Scotch raised his hoof to knock and hesitated. What was he hoping would happen here? Seriously? Just effeminate guy talk like usual? Or… something else?

He knocked. He waited. Nothing. Oh well. Better head back home and tell Blitz he’d failed.

“Butterscotch! Come in, come in,” said Elusive, opening the door. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting! I was in the grip of my muse! Take off your bag! Sit down! What brings you here at this hour of the night?”

“It’s, um, complicated. It’s about Blitz. I don’t mean to bother you. I can go, if you’re busy.”

Elusive gasped. “Oh no! Did you have a fight?”

“Oh, no! I mean, yes. I mean, sort of?”

“Oh, you must come in then! Can I get you something to drink? Chardonnay? Microbrew? Glenfilly?”

“Water’s fine,” said Butterscotch, “but… if it’s okay?” He watched Elusive’s ass as they walked to the kitchen — he dressed strangely. Always immaculate, of course, but the long-sleeved shirt, the vest, and most of all the suit pants seemed like a bit much. Those pants, though. Scotch had always found Elusive… intriguing, he guessed? But recent events had made him especially sensitive to the presence of other stallions, and the way those tailored pants clung to the curves and angles of Elusive’s rump was… it was interesting. Clothing created mystery. Scotch tried to direct his thoughts elsewhere.

Elusive grinned. “Scotch for Scotch it is.” He filled a tumbler full of ice halfway with expensive whiskey and set it in front of where the yellow pony was sitting at the kitchen table. Scotch dipped his head down and sipped. The smooth, smoky-tasting drink burned his throat on the way down. He felt a little calmer. Elusive poured him some more.

“So. Tell Uncle Elusive what’s wrong,” said the white unicorn, grinning smugly. “And don’t leave out any saucy details, because I am going to gossip about this later.”


———

An hour later, they were sitting on the couch in Elusive’s studio, practically nose to nose. The level of fluid in the bottle on the floor in front of them was significantly lower than it had been when they started.

“Oh your Blitz is nothing but trouble! He does cut quite a figure, though. So dashing! So carefree! Such a bon vivant! I need to set up another spa day with him at some point.”

Scotch blushed. “I always thought he was really handsome.” He took another sip of scotch. “Is it gay to think your friends are handsome?”

Elusive laughed. “Well, that all depends on how much you think about it, doesn’t it, dearest heart? Would you care for more scotch, Scotch?”

Butterscotch giggled. That was the seventh time Elusive had made that joke tonight, and it got funnier every time. “Yes, please.”

“If you were inflamed by your friend’s elegant body, his magnificent wingspan, and his considerable endowments every time you met him, then yes, that would be considered gay. If on the other hoof, it’s more of a passing realization? Well, that’s more of a gray area, really.” He levitated the glass over to Scotch, who fumbled for it with his hooves.

“Blitz does have big… um, wings.” said Scotch, the glass tilting in his hooves and sloshing whiskey on the floor.

“Oh, I wasn’t talking about Blitz,” said Elusive. “Here, let me get that.” He guided the glass to his friend’s lips with his magic, tilting it just the faintest bit too fast for him to drink easily.

“Oh. Gosh. I’m really drunk. I’m so drunk I can’t even drink.”

“Hold still a moment, dearest. You have some on your lip.”

The glass thumped onto the floor and rolled under the couch. The two stallions’ tongues fenced, their noses bumping as they tried to find a good angle to kiss at.

“Is this what you had in mind when you came over?” said Elusive, briefly breaking the kiss. “I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

Scotch laughed. “I think that’s pretty much exactly what you’re doing. But that’s what I was expecting. Because you… you’re the gayest stallion in Ponyville.”

Elusive pulled his face away from Scotch’s and snorted. “Only because this town is full of bisexual sluts. Oh! I just thought of something you can help me with. Could you model something for me?”

Scotch froze. His eyes got wide. “No. Never, ever again.”

Elusive laughed until he rolled off the couch. “Oh, no! No, darling! Not like that,” he said, holding his belly with his hooves, “just in private. Between the two of us. I’ve been working on a secret project I’d like your input on.”

———

Butterscotch squirmed. “They’re awfully tight.”

Elusive nodded. “Well, that’s the idea, darling. I designed these “tighty whities”’ to reduce chafing when wearing pants, but I find them rather intriguing on their own.”

Scotch bit his lower lip as Elusive circled him, occasionally diving in to take a measurement. The strange, white cotton panties clung to his ass and hips like a second skin. They pushed his balls up and together, and hugged his sheath. The overall sensation was far from unpleasant, to the point where he had to think of applying mange medication to scabrous muskrats to keep from stiffening and popping right out of the elastic band around the waistline. “What’s the little Y-shaped opening in the front for?”

“Oh, I have no idea,” said Elusive. “But the muse wills as the muse wills!”

Scotch squirmed. His balls were drawn irresistibly to the opening. They wanted to be free. “It’s kind of uncomfortable.”

“Here, let me have a look.”

Scotch’s eyes bulged out as he felt Elusive rummaging around his nethers.

“Hmmm. It does seem like maybe that should be a cosmetic feature. I’ll seal it up in the next prototype. Though that being said…”

Elusive’s magic gripped his balls, gently but firmly pulling them through the small opening. On one level, it was very uncomfortable, but being so suddenly and lewdly exposed by his friend made Scotch’s cock stiffen so fast that no amount of thoughts of diseased rodents could hold it back. The chocolate-colored flare bumped the backs of his forelegs.

“Oh my,” said Elusive.

“I’m so sorry!” stammered Scotch.

“Oh, don’t be.” Elusive nuzzled his friend’s cheek, and ran his hoof through his mane. “Dearest heart, may I please suck your balls? Answer carefully, because I don’t think I’m going to be able to ask permission for anything else I want to do to you. Not that I mean to be rude; it’s just that I think my mouth is going to be too busy.”

“Y-yes! Yes! A million times yes! Please. If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, I don’t mind at all.” Elusive wiggled underneath Scotch. He felt the other stallion’s lips and tongue flutter against his balls.

“Oh! Oh, Elusive!” Scotch flexed his cock, and the elastic band of his shorts slapped it right back against his barrel. “Don’t stop. Please, please don’t stop!”

Elusive bobbed his head, rolling as much of one ball as he could in and out of his mouth. Drool ran down his cheeks, spattering onto the collar of his neat white shirt. He let it pop free, dripping spit, and switched to the other one. “Scotch, your balls are so smooth. I love it. I know I’ve been heard to say I prefer woolly balls, but there is nothing like a nice, silky-smooth sack.”

“Thank you. Thank you so, so much.” Scotch bent his head down and looked back at his friend. “Don’t you want to get undressed? You might, um, get something on your shirt.”

Elusive smirked. “‘Something’, dearest cock?” He lapped at the part of the underside of Scotch’s cock covered by the underwear, and Scotch’s legs almost gave way. Then he licked some more, and they actually gave way. Elusive yelped as ninety pounds of pegasus fell on him.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” said Scotch.

Elusive grunted, and rolled the other stallion onto his back. “For Faust’s sake, stop apologizing. That was lovely! Buck foreplay. I must have this magnificent cock in my mouth!”

Scotch lay on his back, wings spread wide, watching in astonishment as Elusive worshiped his flare. He ran his tongue all over it, coating it with spit until it gleamed, while he rubbed the frogs of his hooves against the sensitive underbelly of the shaft. He sucked the edge of the flare into his mouth, running his lips across it sensually, revelling in the smells and textures of the yellow-and-amber mottled shaft. Scotch wrapped his hooves around Elusive’s head, mussing his mane, holding him there, not wanting the pleasure to stop.

“Now let’s see,” purred Elusive. He reached down to roll the hem of the underwear off of Scotch’s cock, letting it rise up towards his face. “Do I dare? You’re so wide!”

Elusive opened his jaw as far as it would go, and managed to get the flare to the top of his throat, but no further.

“I… i… it feels so good! Don’t stop!” wailed Scotch.

But Elusive had had enough. He wriggled his face off of Scotch’s cock — it took him almost as much effort to get it out as it had to get it in. “Mmmm. You’re a monster, Scotchie dearest. I think we need lube, and it’s up in my bedroom, and I’d have to stop touching you to go get it. Such a dreadful conundrum.” Elusive rubbed his cheeks against the sides of the massive shaft.

The door rattled. Scotch froze, then darted behind the couch when he heard a key turning in the lock.

“Swishy Belle! You’re just in time!”

Scotch peered around the edge of the couch. The teenage colt was grinning, swaying from side to side, clearly drunk, his hair tousled and his makeup smeared. “Hello, big brother! Can I sleep here tonight? Pretty please?” He fluttered his luscious lashes. Elusive was effeminate, sure, but he was all stallion. Swishy? Swishy was practically a mare. There were rumors he was taking hormones, which would explain the voluptuous curves of his freshly cutie-marked flanks. Not many years ago, Scotch had seen only guilt-shaped black holes when he looked at Swishy and his friends. But since they’d gotten their cutie marks and entered adulthood, he’d been uncomfortably aware of what handsome young stallions they’d grown into.

“Well, we certainly don’t want Mother and Father seeing you like this. But! I have a guest over. Would you mind terribly helping me entertain?”

“Oh, hi, Uncle Scotch!” said Swishy, beaming.

“H-Hi, Swishy.” Scotch was shaking. This was not a direction he had expected his evening to go in.

Elusive leaned over to give the colt a lingering and very unbrotherly kiss. “Then be a peach and get me that jar of the lubricant from my bedside table. Actually make it two; we’ve got our work cut out for us tonight.”

Scotch sank behind the couch until only his eyes showed. “You… and him…” He was shocked. Horrified. And unspeakably turned on.

Elusive narrowed his eyes. “Oh, never directly. That would be wrong, wouldn’t it? Come out from behind the couch, dearest heart. You’re about to enjoy the finest young fundament in the Canter River Valley. Not that I’d know, of course.”

When Swishy returned downstairs, balancing two unlabeled mason jars on his back, Scotch and Elusive were sitting on the couch, giving each other hoofjobs like Blitz and Scotch did when they were watching porn together. The tighty whities were rolled down around the tops of Scotch’s thighs, where it seemed like Elusive wanted them to stay.

“Swishy, dear, don’t be rude. Offer to lube up our guest.”

Swishy levitated one of the jars off his back, and held it up with a grin. Scotch found that his mouth was not working properly, but he was able to nod. He laid his head over the back of the couch, hind leg kicking as the young stallion began rubbing goo into the veiny shaft of his dick.

“Wow, Uncle Scotch. You’re huge!”

“Th-thanks. It’s kind of inconveniently big, really,” said Scotch.

Elusive purred. “What does a good little slattern say, Swishy dear?”

“Oh. Right. May I give you a blowjob, Uncle Scotch?”

Scotch nodded mutely. He shouldn’t let him. Legal or not, he was too young. But he couldn’t say no. He was weak. Faust hated him.

Swishy wrapped his painted lips around Scotch’s flare. Unlike his brother, he seemed to have no trouble guiding the shaft into his tight, hot throat. Scotch groaned. Looking down, he saw Swishy’s lips strained into an O, leaving smears of bright red lipstick behind them on his cock. Sweet green eyes looked up at him. Scotch felt his balls tighten. “Oh… oh no…” His right hind hoof pounded out a rhythm on the floor.

Elusive made a cutting motion across his throat, and Swishy pulled back, several strings of drool linking his lips and the end of Scotch’s cock.

“Buh?” said Scotch. He looked at his dick. There were lipstick marks well beyond the medial ring.

“Oh, we’re not done with you yet. Swishy, present to our guest, please.” The younger stallion turned away and lifted his tail, showing his plump, curved rump. Pink skin showed through the fur on his ponut and balls. That tight little ponut winked for him. Scotch barely had the presence of mind to reapply his lubricant before he scrambled up on top of the younger stallion. Young or not, Swishy’s ass was well trained. Scotch felt his flare sliding into hot, slick stallion insides with astonishing ease. He gritted his teeth in almost unbearable pleasure. He’d always been obsessed by anal sex, but the few mares he’d known had been reluctant or unwilling to try it. Gay stallions, though? Apparently they loved it. It was like coming home.

He gripped Swishy Belle’s waist with his forelegs and began to hump. The young colt let out a sweet, effeminate moan and twisted underneath him. “Oh! Almost. Back a little! Left! Left! Oh, Faust, that’s it!” Scotch wobbled on his hind legs, trying to stay balanced while thrusting at the odd angle Swishy wanted.

“Prostate?” asked Scotch.

Swishy just yowled with pleasure. Scotch felt Elusive’s still-clothed bulk sliding across his back. Well, most of him was clothed. His slim cock was out and hungrily probing under his tail. He gritted his teeth and bore down the way Blitz had taught him. Elusive moaned decadently as he pushed inside. His thrusts were sensual and gentle. His weight, on the other hoof, was a little hard to take. Scotch suddenly felt doubtful — should they really have tried to do a daisy chain in a standing position? Scotch resolved to do the best he could under the circumstances. Swishy let out a feminine moan every time his brother’s thrust pushed Scotch’s massive cock into his ass. Scotch pushed deeper and deeper, until his balls were slapping against Swishy’s. Amazing. Swishy wasn’t any bigger than Blitz, and Blitz couldn’t take him more than halfway. But thinking about that made Scotch miss Blitz, so he tried to stop. He hugged the younger stallion’s chest and licked the back of his neck, enjoying the silky feel of his fur under his tongue almost as much as the feeling of that young ass around his dick.

“Oh, you filthy sodomite,” whispered Elusive in Scotch’s ear. “You just love it up the ass, don’t you?”

“I do,” groaned Scotch. “I love being fucked up the ass.”

“How do you like my little brother? He’s a treat, isn’t he? So tight. So soft. So willing.”

“H-how do you know?” asked Scotch.

“Oh, I hear tell,” Elusive replied evasively. They moved together as one creature, Scotch basically serving as a condom for Elusive. When Elusive moved, Scotch moved. When Scotch moved, Swishy moaned. It was heaven. Absolute bliss. Until Swishy came. The young stallion let out a cry of delight, wracked by a prostate orgasm so intense that his knees buckled. Scotch felt his support begin to give way and squawked in alarm.

“Oh! Yes! Squeal like a pig for me, you filthy little catamite!” said Elusive, completely misinterpreting the situation. He gave a powerful, passionate thrust. Scotch lost his footing, and Swishy went down. They landed on the floor in a sweaty heap of tangled pony parts.

“Ouch,” groaned Scotch. He felt like somepony had tried to yank his rectum out of his body.

“Swishy Belle Faust damn it! I think I strained my member!” said Elusive.

Swishy groaned. “You two geezers stop complaining and keep bucking! I feel another one coming!”

This position was easier on the floor. Tangled bodies bucked and writhed. Scotch bit his lip, the ache in his ass only adding to his pleasure. Scotch was pinned between soft fur and smooth fabric, cradled in Elusive’s legs, fucking and being fucked. A few minutes of twisting, sweating and moaning later Swishy came again, his abdominal muscles slamming in around Scotch’s dick. The sudden tightness was just too much, and Scotch came too. He gripped the young stallion as pleasure rocked him, pumping cum inside the colt’s willing body.

Elusive let out a shuddering, girlish moan. He began to pull out, but Scotch hadn’t felt him come.

“Did you finish?” asked Scotch, craning his neck. He was in time to see Elusive, mane mussed, clothes wrinkled and askew, stroking his cock, an expression of focused lust on his face. Before Scotch fully understood what he was seeing, cum was squirting across Scotch’s croup, leaving white streaks in the yellow fur.

“Oh gosh,” said Scotch, blushing. He stared in shock as Elusive leaned down and licked his croup clean. Swishy had wriggled off of Scotch’s impaling spear and rolled over so that he and Scotch were cheek to cheek. Swishy opened his mouth. Elusive stepped over them. He and Swishy were going to kiss again. Okay. Then Scotch realized Elusive hadn’t swallowed. His breath stopped.

Ropes of cum rolled off Elusive’s tongue and onto his younger brother’s. Swishy groaned and tilted his head, pushing the load back into Elusive’s mouth. Cum rolled down Swishy’s chin and dripped on the floor. Scotch felt an unaccustomed feeling growing in his chest — bravery. He licked Swishy’s chin. The other two stallions welcomed him into their kiss, their tongues sliding against his. Elusive’s cum had mostly dripped away or been swallowed, but he could still taste the salty muskiness in their mouths.

They kissed for a long time. Then Elusive helped them to their hooves and led them to his bedroom.

———

Butterscotch woke up alone in Elusive’s bed. Morning light fell onto the cobalt sheets and the sleeping form of Tom the cat. Scotch’s head was pounding, his eyes burned, and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton. Also, something smelled terrible. Damnit, they’d taken baths! Where was everypony else anyway?

Swishy Belle came through the door levitating a tray in front of him. “I made you breakfast!”

That explained the smell. Scotch tried to be polite. “Oh. Um… thank you. It looks… edible?” Which was a lie.

Swishy set the tray down on the bed in front of Scotch. Tom hissed at it and retreated to another room. “Elusive says he’s sorry, he had to go out on business. Something about needing industrial quantities of elastic and white cotton.”

The eggs were green, and covered in some sort of gelatinous slime that might’ve been cheese once. There was a bowl of brown slop that smelled like burnt bread. The black coffee — which was in a glass tumbler for some reason — seemed innocuous enough. Scotch lapped at it and cringed. Cold and burnt. Ugh.

“Do you like the orange juice? I squeezed it myself!”

Butterscotch forced himself to swallow. He didn’t want to be rude. “Um… I really need to get going.”

Taming the Closet Cases

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Butterscotch sat outside the Queequeg’s by the train station, sipping a frappuccino and listening to Lilith scold him. He was wearing sunglasses, partly to express the unaccustomed self-confidence he currently felt, and partly to hide the redness of his eyes. He was also still wearing the tighty whities, because they really were a daring fashion statement.

“Yes, Lilith. I understand it’s hard without me there.”

She crossed her forelegs and glared at him.

“Yes, I know Rainbow Blitz is incompetent.”

She stamped her foot.

“You already told me the squirrels have taken over the kitchen.” He set down his drink and lifted Lilith with both hooves. “But you have to understand that I have a destiny. I’m on a quest. A hero’s journey, if you will, to unlock my inner bunny. You’ll have to make do without me for a little while.”

Lilith sighed in disgust, hopped out of his hooves, and took off across the railroad tracks and back towards the cottage.

Scotch adjusted his glasses. Last night had made it clear to him — sex was disgusting. It was filthy, and dirty, and shameful, and wrong. But he loved it, and he was good at it. So he had some exploring to do. Maybe a mare, tonight? He still wasn’t sure if he was gay or not. Yes, a mare would be lovely. They were in short supply in Ponyville, but there was no need to worry. He had all day.

———

Scotch slunk through the street market, following Pink Lady while trying to stay out of her line of sight. He wasn’t stalking her. He was just shy.

She was a fine mare. Tall and muscular, with breathtaking filly-next-door good looks. A little shaggy, sure, and maybe a little sweaty a lot of the time. But still someone he’d always wished he could spend more time with. And she was Applejack’s sister, so there was a personal connection. He could do this. He just needed a little more time to work up his nerve. Maybe he should get her a flower? Did she like flowers?

She was comparing denim varieties at the fabric stall. Bent over the swatch book, her bobbed tail lifted. Scotch bit his lower lip. Speaking of flowers. he knew it was rude to look, but he couldn’t help himself. There, nestled in between those massive, powerful cheeks was the sweetest, poutiest pair of mare lips he’d ever seen. Not that he’d had a chance to examine many closely, but still. They were nice. And her smooth, perfect ponut made his back knees wobble. He looked around. Where was the florist’s stall? He looked back towards her, and she was gone.

He heard a hoofstep behind him. A mare cleared her throat. He tucked his tail between his legs and turned towards her.

“Can I help you with somethin’?” Pink Lady glared down at him, gorgeous green eyes full of annoyance.

“Um, no. No, I’m fine. Just… doing some shopping.” Scotch grinned nervously, gesturing around as if to indicate his complete lack of shopping bags.

“You’ve got your sexy pants on. You’ve been followin’ me around all morning. And I just caught you starin’ at my butt.” She leaned forward, her nose pressing against his. He shuffled backwards, blushing furiously. “Is there somethin’ you were wantin’ to tell me?”

Scotch wanted to flee. He wanted to turn tail and run. But no. This was the new Scotch. He was going to be up front and secure about his sexuality. “I was just… thinking about how beautiful you were.”

Pink Lady raised her head, and looked at him sidelong, as if trying to decide how to take this. “Okay. Anything else?”

Scotch gulped. “And I was wondering if you’d like to go back to my place for a little while. Or yours, actually. I can’t go back to my place right now.”

She slapped him and walked away.

“Oooowwww!” groaned Scotch, upside down in a vase in the potter’s stall the next row over. He took some comfort in the fact that she hadn’t hit him as hard as she could have. He felt a magical grip on one leg, and a pair of hooves on the other, and he was hauled out into daylight again.

“Nice one! You’ve got some bollocks on you,” said the gray earth pony. His white unicorn friend nodded.

Scotch turned pale. “You saw what happened?”

“The whole thing,” said the earth pony.

Scotch considered trying to crawl back into the pot. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You think I’m disgusting, don’t you?”

“Quite the contrary, mate! You’re just the kind of bloke we’re looking for. We’re on the prowl, if you take my meaning. Looking for a bit of slap and tickle -- you know, the old ‘how’s your father’. We could use a scrapper like you in our corner. That is, if you don’t mind sharing.”

The unicorn nodded in agreement.

Scotch blinked, unsure whether they were coming on to him or not. “Um, okay.”

“Anyhow, since you don’t seem to recognize us on sight, let me make some introductions. I’m Treble Clef, and short, pale, and silent over here is Breakdown, better known as DJ COL7. The absolute apotheosis of the classical and contemporary music scenes, respectively. A bit ahead of our time, but in five years, you’ll be saying you knew us back when.”

“Um, I’m Butterscotch. But my friends call me Scotch.”

Treble thrust out a hoof. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Scotch. Shall we, then?”

———

They weren’t coming onto him. They were trying to pick up mares. That made sense. And they wanted him to help. That didn’t make sense.

“So the thing you’ve got to do, if you want to get laid a lot, is just keep asking for it. There are various techniques people advocate, but nothing beats the law of averages. Right, mate?” Treble said. Breakdown gave him a hoof bump. “But it's a small town,” Treble continued, “and sometimes you try the same mare a few too many times.”

Breakdown nodded towards farmer Buckwheat’s stall, where Carrot Cake was placing an order.

Scotch gulped. “Her?

“That’s right,” said Treble. “Take a moment to take her all in. Those legs! Those legs literally never stop.”

Scotch looked confused. “But they do. They stop at her barrel.”

“Well, figuratively literally, not literally literally. But they’re pretty damn long. And she’s a ginger! I bucking love gingers! Have you seen her husband, though? Fat little troll. She can’t be happy with him. But somehow we haven’t been able to bring her around. So, we were wondering if you could have a go?”

Scotch wanted to point out that if she’d married Chocolate Cake, there must be something she liked about him, but he found his mouth wouldn’t work. When he didn’t leap into action, Treble and Breakdown pushed him towards her, his hooves churning up the ground beneath him. When they had him close enough that Mrs. Cake noticed him, they darted for cover.

“And fifty pounds of rolled oats. Oh! Butterscotch! Can I help you with something?” She tossed her head and smiled her wide, pretty smile. Her mane was always a bit sloppy from being under a hairnet all day, but it shimmered red and gold in the sunlight.

“Nothing,” squeaked Scotch. “Nothing at all. Just saying hi.” Brave new Scotch or not, he didn’t want to be slapped again. Also, adultery was not cool. Not cool at all.

She leaned down until her head was level with his. “I couldn’t help noticing your new friends.”

“I just met them. They’re… um… Nice? Possibly?”

“They’re really not. I hope they’re not a bad influence on you. Anyway, when you go back to them, would you tell them that the muffin shop is closed, and to stop bothering me?”

Scotch nodded and fled.

“Well, that was disappointing,” said Treble as Breakdown dragged Scotch out from behind the cheese stall by the tail. “Maybe we shouldn’t have sent you out solo so soon.”

“Mrs. Cake says the muffin shop is closed? Whatever that means?”

A passing gray mail pegasus froze in midair, his eyes wide in alarm, then raced off, wings churning.

“And I don’t know about this, guys,” Scotch continued. “I don’t want any more mares mad at me.”

Breakdown whistled, and nudged Treble in the shoulder. He pointed over at two teenage mares, not much older than Swishy. Scotch knew them — plump, curvy little Sugar and tall, gangly Spice, with her long neck and curiously compelling buck teeth. “Yoo hoo! Over here, colts!” said Sugar. Spice winked at them, and they walked away, waggling their rumps and giggling. Breakdown began to follow at a trot, a goofy grin on his face.

“Tally bucking ho,” said Treble, taking off after them.

“Aren’t they a little young?” said Scotch, hurrying to catch up. He didn’t really have the moral high ground after what he’d done to Swishy last night, but he still felt like he needed to point it out.

“They’re legal, mate. If there’s chalk on the field, it’s time to play ball. Anyway, can’t you smell? They’re in heat.”

Scotch inhaled, and the smell was definitely there. His underwear began to get tighter. He decided he could safely say he liked mares. “I don’t know about this.”

The two fillies lead them to the edge of town. Whenever Treble or Breakdown got close enough to get a good whiff of their heat musk, they took off, running and giggling. Scotch hung back. Something was off about the situation, and not just because it was so morally questionable. When Sugar and Spice got to a copse of trees on the edge of town, they stopped and turned around. “Hey boys,” said Spice, wiggling her hips saucily. “You want some of this?”

“Buck yes,” said Treble.

“Then why don’t ya’ join us in the bushes?” said Sugar, looking like she was struggling not to laugh.

Breakdown started to pronk. Treble whistled. “Right out in public, huh?”

Sugar snickered. “We’re a couple of really nasty fillies! C’mon.” And they ran in amongst the undergrowth. Breakdown and Treble dove in after them.

When Scotch didn’t follow, Treble stuck his head out of the bushes. “You coming, mate?”

Scotch shook his head. “No.”

Treble shrugged. “More for us.” And he vanished again. There was silence, followed by screams, laughter, and disturbing splatting sounds. Sugar, Spice, Iron Crown, and Silver Scepter ran out of the back of the copse laughing and looking over their shoulders. Moments later, Treble and Breakdown slumped out, covered in raw egg, leaves, and bits of twigs.

“So. Homo again tonight?” said Treble. Breakdown sighed, and nodded.

———

A few hours later, they were washed up and sitting on Treble and Breakdown’s couch, watching porn and giving each other hoofjobs. Or rather Scotch was giving them hoofjobs, since they’d figured out he was willing to stroke both of them without reciprocation. He was feeling a little imposed upon. It wasn’t a lot of fun, either. This sort of thing was a nice way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon with Blitz, but that was because he loved Blitz. Doing it to strangers was dull.

The porn was awful, too — a badly shot, boringly lit straight stag reel about two ugly stallions hammering artlessly at a mare who kept glancing at her watch.

“Um… I don’t want to be rude. But couldn’t we just have sex?” said Scotch. He’d started out hard, but he was starting to get floppy, and he didn’t want to hurt his new friends’ feelings.

“That’d be gay, mate,” said Treble.

“It’s pretty gay already,” said Scotch

“Not if you focus on the porn and don’t call attention to the bloody situation,” said Treble, sounding annoyed. Breakdown took a sip from his can of soda and nodded in agreement.

Scotch bit his lower lip. He took a deep breath. Brave new Scotch. “I can put your thingies in my mouth,” he suggested, as quietly as he could. Treble’s eyes bugged out of his head. Breakdown spat out his soda.

“That’s bloody extremely gay, mate,” said Treble, scooting away from Scotch.

Scotch narrowed his eyes. “Not if you don’t call attention to the situation. Just pretend I’m the mare on the screen.”

Treble rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

Scotch went for the heavy artillery. “I have a big mouth. And I swallow.”

Breakdown patted his lap. Scotch took a deep breath, and got on his knees in front of him. He took Breakdown’s cockshaft between his hooves and lowered his head to lap at the white unicorn’s light pink balls. The were silky, and smelled clean. Breakdown’s hips shivered. “Oh buck!” he moaned in a soft tenor voice, the first words Scotch had heard him utter all day. Scotch grinned, and licked the underside of the unicorn’s cock, tracing the lines of the veins with his tongue.

“Cor! He’s a right natural!” said Treble. Scotch glanced up to see the earth pony staring at them. Breakdown pointed emphatically at the TV screen. “Oh, right. Sorry mate. Here, let me skip ahead to find a blowjob bit.”

Scotch popped the mottled pink and cream head of the cock into his mouth. He couldn’t tell where Breakdown’s eyes were fixed because of the sunglasses, so he didn’t bother to make eye contact. He’d always felt like that was weird, anyway. He closed his eyes and focused on the taste and the texture. He felt a hoof on the back of his head. Suddenly, rudely, he was shoved down the cockshaft, gagging loudly as it was forced into his throat. He batted the hoof away and pulled his head back. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t enjoy that. I’m not a porn star. I’m not being paid for this. I only want to do fun stuff.” He bit back an ‘if that’s okay with you’. He had some self-esteem, darn it. Just not very much.

“Sorry,” mumbled Breakdown, blushing.

“It’s okay.” Scotch patted him on the knee, and went back to sucking his cock. He hummed around the shaft, and Breakdown moaned. It was a lovely cock. Pretty, silky, and not too big. Breakdown wasn’t getting any deepthroat action after that gagging stunt, though.

“Hey, don’t hog him, mate,” said Treble, scooting over towards them. Breakdown pushed him away, and they started to struggle like two colts fighting over a game controller.

Scotch scooted away in alarm. “Please don’t fight,” he said. “I can do you both at once. Come on. Stand up, side by side.”

They reluctantly agreed. Scotch shivered. Sucking off two stallions at once had been a fantasy of his since… well, since about a month ago when he’d sucked Blitz’s cock for the first time. But still. It was pretty hot. He wiggled in under their barrels, and took the shafts in his hooves, tilting them both towards the center line.

“No gay stuff, now,” warned Treble. Scotch ignored him. He tasted the earth pony’s gray-and-black cock. Thick. Salty. Delicious. He bobbed on it for a minute or so, then popped it free, spattering drool. He turned to Breakdown’s dick and bobbed back and forth happily for a while. Maybe he’d give a little deepthroat. The colt hadn’t meant any harm, after all. He just thought real sex was like porn, the big silly. He opened his jaw wide, and let the slim head slide down his throat. He made gurgling noises, just for effect. Breakdown’s legs started to shake.

Scotch pulled his head back. “Easy,” warned Scotch, feeling like a pretty little porn starlet. “I don’t want you two coming too soon.” He switched to Treble, deepthroating him, too. His dick was a little bit bigger than Breakdown, but Scotch could still swallow it without too much trouble. Scotch’s heart glowed with pride. He was a natural.

“Take your time, mate,” said Treble, “I haven’t had a blowjob this good in I can’t remember when. Could you maybe make your voice a little higher, though? So you sound like a mare?”

Scotch ignored him and deepthroated Breakdown again. He could get quite a long way down his slim dick — all the way to the balls, after a few tries. Breakdown rose up on his tippy-hooves, shaking. Scotch couldn’t resist swallowing around the cock until Breakdown started to scream. Then he pulled all the way back and placed it on top of his nose so that the stream of cum hit him right between his clenched-closed eyes. He grinned and giggled as cum matted his eyelashes, rolled down his cheeks, and plastered his bangs to his forehead.

“Bloody Solaris on a stick, did he just take a facial?” said Treble, voice trembling with disbelief.

“I’m a nasty filly,” said Scotch, affecting a little bit of a lisp. Wow. He was really getting into this gay thing. He dove for Treble’s dick, sucking it hard and fast until the colt started dancing from hoof to hoof. Then he pulled back, and let the load soak his face, adding to the mess Breakdown had left.

“If you were a filly I’d marry you, mate,” said Treble.

“I’m taken, sorry. Could you hand me some tissues, if it’s not too much trouble?” said Scotch, climbing up onto the couch. His cock was hard and pulsing, thick flare bouncing against his slim chest with every heartbeat. “Now,” he said, wiping off his face, ”it’s my turn. Who wants to go first?”

Treble’s jaw fell open. Breakdown turned even paler than he already was. Scotch started to giggle.

———

The next morning, Butterscotch was on top of the world.

After he’d made Treble and Breakdown suck him off and swallow his load, he had excused himself and fluttered off to Day Tripper’s place for an innocent cuddle and a couple of joints. “Be true to yourself,” Tripper had told him. It had sounded pretty deep at the time, and honestly, it still did, even though in the clear light of morning he realized it was a cliché. Gay or bi, he’d just be who he was, and everything would fall into place. For now, he’d flap over to Sugarcube Corner for some coffee and muffins. Or maybe they weren’t making muffins any more? What Carrot Cake had said to him yesterday had been confusing. So maybe a sandwich, instead. He’d slept late; it must be lunch time by now.

He squeaked in alarm as a teal thunderbolt dove out of the heavens and tumbled him to the ground. “Hey, big brother,” said Wandering Winds, rubbing her hoof against the top of his head. “Mind if I crash at your place for a couple of days?”

“Wanda!” said Scotch, his tone wavering on the edge of the Voice. “You’re supposed to be in Manehattan. Doing your job.”

“I’m talking a couple of weeks off! I thought I’d drop by unannounced. Revisit old times, you know?” She batted her eyelashes and walked past her brother, rubbing sides and wings together and flicking her tail in his face.

“I thought we weren’t ever going to talk about that again,” said Scotch, his courage wavering. He tucked his knees together, trying to hide his body’s reaction to his sister’s all too familiar smell.

“Yes,” whispered Wanda, “it was going to be our dirty, shameful little secret, wasn’t it?”

Scotch nodded. Their parents were incredibly naive. He and his sister had shared a room for far too long, and once their bodies had started developing, exploration had been… he didn’t want to say inevitable. He should have been the strong one. But it had happened. “Exactly,” said Scotch, trembling with anger and shame. “So why are you talking about it now?”

“I just miss you soooo much, Big Brother!” said Wanda.

Scotch narrowed his eyes. “You got fired, didn’t you?”

Wanda hunched down, and grinned at him nervously. Scotch facehoofed. “Wanda!”

“Sorry. So, your place? Just for a day or two?”

“What did you do? What did you do to get yourself fired?”

She shrugged. “I skipped work a few times. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

Scotch’s head throbbed. “Wanda, you need to start learning to solve your own problems. I’m sorry, but I’ve helped you as much as I can.” He got up and started to walk away.

“It’s okay,” said Wanda. “I already went by your place. Blitz says I can crash with him any time. You know, in exchange for favors.”

Scotch froze.

“He thinks he took my innocence. He doesn’t know about us,” she said.

Scotch tried to walk away. His hooves wouldn’t leave the ground.

“Just think of it. Poor widdle Wanda, all alone with dirty Mister Blitz. Oh!” she gasped and put her hooves to her cheeks, “What if he takes advantage of my low self-esteem!”

Scotch let his posture droop. “Fine. Fine. Come on, we’ll go back to my place.”

He's His Little Sister's Favorite Toy

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Blitz stood on Butterscotch’s couch, a colander slightly askew on his head. “All right, boys. Operation Get Blitz a Beer is about to commence. I’m not gonna lie to you. It’s gonna be rough.”

Scotch’s dogs sat in a double line in front of him, panting and staring. They had no idea what he was saying, but like most dogs, they were happy enough to fall in behind anypony who seemed to know what they were doing.

Blitz began to pace back and forth on the couch, gesturing from time to time with the wooden spoon tucked under his wing. “Those squirrels are dug in deep. Intelligence — thanks, Lilith — reports three lines of fortifications. One at the doorway. One at the kitchen table. And a final one around the refrigerator itself.”

Lilith, sitting on the arm of the couch, ground her teeth and rolled her eyes.

“Don’t let their fluffy exteriors fool you. They have sharp little teeth. And nuts. Lots of nuts. Huge fucking nuts. I’m not gonna lie to you, troops. A lot of you are gonna get pelted with nuts. Probably all of you, honestly. But better you than me, am I right?”

Alexander barked, mainly because he wanted to sound supportive. Then suddenly, all the dogs froze. Ears went up. Tails began to wag. Cacophonous barking filled the cottage. The squirrels, sensing a turn in the tide of battle, huddled behind their breastworks, clutching their nuts and shivering in fear. The front door opened. Scotch and Wanda stepped in, and were instantly submerged in a tide of slobbery canine love.

“Oh, wow!” said Blitz, flapping over for hugs himself. “Wanda! I didn’t know you were in town!”

Scotch glared at his sister. “Why don’t I go clear the squirrels out of the kitchen while you two catch up.”

It took a couple of minutes to scold the squirrels and supervise them while they took down their fortifications. When he came back to the couch with three beers and a bottle of Glenfilly, they were sitting side by side, patting dogs and chatting happily. He squeezed in between them. “So. Have you told Blitz about how you got fired from the only steady job you’ve ever had?”

Wanda shrugged and sipped her beer. “Benefits were crap, and I really wasn’t on board with their ‘no sleeping at work’ policy.”

Blitz nodded. “That’s a bummer. Hey, Wanda, you should totally work for the Equestrian Weather Service. Two hours for lunch, three naps a day, workers’ comp, 401K, four weeks of vacation. We’ve got a really good union.”

Wanda yawned. “Yeah, maybe I could do that. I was getting bored of mane therapy anyway. So how’s your career, Scotchie? Still living like a king on the residuals from your one-week modeling career?”

Scotch scrunched down. “I care for the animals. It’s a job.”

Wanda grinned. “Oh, speaking of modeling, I love the little pants.”

Scotch sighed, took a swig from the bottle and placed it between his legs to cover the activity beneath his tighty whities. Wanda and Blitz, between them, accounted for the vast majority of Scotch’s lifetime sexual experience, and his body, neither concerned with propriety nor exhausted by the frankly ridiculous amount of sex he’d had in the past few days, was responding accordingly.

“Hey, don’t hog the scotch, Scotch,” said Blitz.

“I, um, need it,” said Scotch. He did. If he drank enough, maybe he’d be unable to stay hard, and he could avoid humiliation and exposure as a sister-molester. He’d have to drink more than just one bottle, though, if his night with Elusive and Swishy was any indication. He’d also have to figure out a way to get the bottle back to his mouth without exposing that his flare had begun to slip out of the hem of his briefs.

“Hey, check this out,” said Wanda. She leaned her head out over the bottle, wrapped her lips around the neck, and with a soft popping noise, sucked whiskey up the neck and into her mouth. She grinned. “Can I suck, or can’t I?”

Scotch’s cock slid another inch or two up his belly. They must’ve both seen it by now. Why were they torturing him?

Blitz waved a hoof. “Aw, that’s an old trick. You use pegasus magic to make a tiny low pressure system in your mouth. I can do it too. Check it out.” Blitz leaned over and sucked a shot out of the bottle, running his lips up and down the neck far longer than he needed to. Scotch’s cock bumped him in the nose, quickly pumping to its full length.

Blitz snorted. “Look who’s hard in front of sister!”

Wanda batted her eyelashes. “It’s not the first time.”

Blitz’s eyes bugged out of his head. “What? You’re shitting me.”

Wanda nodded. “Oh, this little horndog was at me every night when we were teenagers. I’d be trying to get some sleep, and he’d sneak over to my bed, and he’d put out a little hoof and he’d be like, ‘Wanda. Wanda. I need you, Wanda.’” She made her voice as deep as she could in imitation of Scotch’s plaintive baritone. Scotch tried to wriggle away and found teal and cyan hooves resting firmly on his thighs.

Blitz laughed. “Yeah? Did you let him?”

Wanda grinned widely.

Blitz whistled. “Damn, you’re a good sister.”

“The best,” she purred.

Scotch decided since it wasn’t hiding anything any more, he might as well take a few shots from the bottle. It was a waste to drink such good liquor so fast, but maybe if he was lucky, whiskey dick would set in more quickly than usual.

“Well, I’m not saying that’s normal, or natural, or legal. But it’s pretty hot. You’ll never guess who he’s sleeping with these days,” said Blitz.

“Try me,” said Wanda.

Blitz tapped his own chest proudly.

Wanda whistled. “Well what do you know. I can’t say I’m surprised. I always had Big Brother figured for a secret fudge packer, the way he was always trying to get up under my dock.”

“Did you ever let him?” said Blitz, relishing the revelation of incest with the aplomb of somepony with no brothers or sisters of his own.

Wanda snorted. “Are you kidding? With that monster? He’d rip me in half! I’m surprised you can take it.”

“The ponut is a marvelous organ. Super stretchy. Very resilient.” Blitz reached down, and pulled a mason jar of lube out from under the couch. He tossed it to Scotch, who almost dropped his whiskey. “C’mon, sexy coltfriend,” he said, sliding off the couch and kneeling on the floor. Scotch stared at Blitz’s lean ass as it swayed in the air. He could see the lines of his muscles clearly beneath the short blue fur. His cock throbbed. Blitz took a sip of his beer, lifted his tail, and flared his ponut. Scotch realized there wasn’t enough whiskey in all of Ponyville to make his cock go down now.

“You want me to help you lube up, Big Brother?” said Wanda, fluttering her eyelashes.

“No!” squealed Scotch, jerking away from her. He rubbed goo onto his shaft, and directed it towards Blitz’s ass, trying not to look at Wanda. That ass. Blitz was so cut you could practically see the striation of his muscles through his skin. He couldn’t resist rubbing his hoof-thick flare all across both cheeks, and tapping it against his balls to see them jiggle.

“Oh, Scotch…” groaned Blitz, resting his head on the floor next to his beer.

“Oh, Scotch,” said Wanda.

Butterscotch shuddered with shame, but he couldn’t resist pushing his cockhead up under Blitz’s tail. Even after a month of constant anal sex, they both had to push and strain to get Scotch inside of him. He could feel his coltfriend opening for him, but he was afraid he’d hurt him if he just pushed inside.

Blitz arched back against him. “You can do it, buddy!”

Wanda put her cheek against Scotch’s hip. “Yeah! Don’t be shy! I wanna see you wreck him!”

“Wanda, what are you doing?” groaned Scotch.

“Trying to get a better view,” she said, her violet eyes looking up at him through strands of mane that had come free from her bun. His heart fluttered. Stop that, heart. He closed his eyes, rested the bottle of Glenfilly on Blitz’s croup, gripped his tail, and pushed as hard as he dared. He felt the now-familiar embrace of his boyfriend’s ass around his cock, and he yowled with joy.

“Buck yes!” yelped Blitz, thumping his hoof on the floor.

“I knew you could do it, big brother!” She wrapped her forelegs around him and pulled his tighty whities down so that his balls were hanging out. She cupped them against the frogs of her hooves.

“W-Wanda!” squeaked Scotch, his deep voice going as high as it could. “What are you doing?”

“Feeling up my sexy older brother. You know you want it,” said Wanda. “Now, let’s see some true anal ruination. Fuck him so hard he waddles for a week!”

“Oh, for buck’s sake, Wanda,” said Blitz, “do you want to write ad copy for the backs of porn DVDs?”

Scotch moaned with pleasure, guilt, and despair. Pleasure because he really did want his sister’s hooves on his balls. Guilt for exactly the same reason. And despair because he knew he couldn’t stop himself from letting her. He rammed into Blitz so deeply that the walls of Wanda’s hooves pressed into his ass. He thrust again and again, going as deeply as he could in Blitz’s tight little ass over and over. Behind Scotch, his sister had her nose in under his tail and was licking soft little hooffuls of his ass cheeks, nipping them and wetting them with spit. Scotch took a hit from his bottle, then set it back on Blitz’s croup. This was wicked. This was evil. This was amazing. His pleasure built, slowly gathering into a powerful, overwhelming crescendo that…

“Whoa! Easy, tiger!” said Wanda, yanking Scotch back by the balls. “Not so fast!”

Butterscotch’s eyes bugged out of his head. “Ouch.”

“Faust! Don’t pull out so fast! That bucking hurts! You wanna give me a prolapse?” growled Blitz.

“Geeze, I’m sorry, but he was about to come! I want a turn with big brother’s cock up my ass!”

Scotch’s eyes got even wider, threatening to roll out of their sockets and down his cheeks. “Buh wah wa wa?”

Blitz snickered. “Oh, little sister wants big brother to take her anal virginity. This I gotta see. Time to disengage, Scotch. Wanda, pour the rest of the mason jar in between those sweet green cheeks. You’re gonna need all the lubrication you can get.”

By the time Scotch had popped free of his coltfriend’s ass, leaving it gaping so wide he swore he could see clean through to Blitz’s teeth, Wanda had her cheek on the floor and her small but plump ass in the air. Lube glistened on the familiar pout of her fat green pussy lips, and on her sweet, forbidden little ponut. Scotch was a gentlepony. He leaned in, took a deep whiff of his sister’s heady aroma, and pressed his tongue to the apex of her sex. Her clitoris twitched under his tongue. “Sccoootttch!” she groaned. He pushed his tongue forward, quickly remembering the rhythm she liked — deep, hard, circling pushes. The muscles in her hind legs shook. The tendons tightened. Her tail flipped so high it fell over her black.

“Scotchie! OH! Oh my Faust!”

Scotch paused. “Am I hurting you?” He felt a little dizzy. All the whiskey might be going to his head. Not to his dick though. That was as hard as ever.

“No! Don’t! Don’t stop! What are you doing?”

“I was… I was just checking on you.” He rubbed his jaw. His tongue was already tired. He couldn’t feel the tip of his muzzle. He decided the thing to do was drink more scotch.

“Lick meeeee!!!! I was just about to cooommmeee!” wailed Wanda.

Scotch blinked. “Oh. Right. Sorry.” That was what he was supposed to be doing. He pushed his nose against her dripping pussy and rubbed his tongue against her clit again. Her rear end shook as if it’d been hit with an electric shock.

“Scotch. Scotchie. I love you so much! Make me come, big brother!” she screamed. He pulled her clit in between his lips and sucked it hard. Wanda shrieked, and mare juice splashed on his muzzle, wetting his eyelashes.

Scotch grinned. “I still… I still got it.”

“Damn, you’re evil,” said Blitz, flapping over to stand above Wanda’s head. He lifted her head in his hooves, and she smiled up at him goofily.

“I think I’m ready to get analed,” said Wanda.

Blitz frowned. “You sure? Scotch has kind of an expert-level cock. Maybe you wanna start with something smaller?” He glanced down meaningfully.

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Nope. I’m keepin’ it in the family. You still back there, big brother?

Scotch replied by scrambling up onto her back. His cock bumped against her belly, her thighs, both buttocks, and her pussy. Everywhere but her ponut. “I can’t find… I can’t find her hole thing.”

Blitz saluted. “I’ll be back to help you in a second, good buddy. Okay. Wanda. The trick is to bear down like you’re taking the biggest dump of your entire Faust damn life. Like, a ‘you ate the ten-pound hay burger and got your picture on the wall of Cousin Al’s’ dump.”

Wanda grinned. “You make it sound so erotic. Okay, then what?”

Blitz shrugged. ”Pray to Faust you survive, then sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Wanda gulped. Blitz walked behind her and helped guide Scotch up against her. He humped his hips drunkenly, but by the third thrust, he found himself surrounded by hot, soft female flesh. “Oh, golly!” moaned Scotch, trying to move slowly. His sister’s ass was unbelievably tight, and it was all he could do to keep himself from hammering her right into the floorboards.

“Oh, sweet holy buck!” screamed Wanda.

“You okay?” said Blitz, looking concerned.

“Yes! Yes! Deeper. Harder! Oh, why didn’t we try this sooner!”

Blitz grinned. “I think she likes it, Scotch.”

Scotch barely heard him. He was lost in the pleasure of his sister’s ass. Her cheeks slid against the sides of his cock. Her ponut was distended into a paper-thin ring around him. Where the hell was his whiskey? He humped his hips, making his sister’s slender body shiver. Blitz walked away from him, lowered his hips over Wanda’s face, and leaned over her back to kiss him. He heard the wet sound of Blitz fucking his sister’s throat. He felt his boyfriend’s tongue sliding against his own. The pleasure was almost unbearable. He loved Blitz. He loved Wanda, sort of. Was that so wrong?

Fire boiled out of his balls and flashed through his body. He felt his cock pulsing, squirting inside of Wanda’s body. He heard Blitz scream.

Scotch gasped, and started pulling back out of Wanda’s ass as quickly as he dared. Orgasm had come, and with it had come clarity. Yes. It was wrong. It was horribly, horribly wrong. He shouldn’t have done it. His cock popped free of Wanda’s ass, leaving it gaping, dripping cum from it towards her pussy. He visualized flipper-limbed incest foals and frantically tried to push the trickle away from her sex.

“I promised… I promised myself I’d never use your body again.” He felt his feathers bristling, standing on end. Blitz and Wanda stared at him. Wanda had some of Blitz’s cum on her nose.

“Scotch, um, are you okay?”

“YOU TWO LEAD ME TO SIN,” said Scotch, his eyes glowing.

Blitz and Wanda’s eyes snapped wide open. Then they cringed, and covered their ears. Animals fled. The walls shook.

“Scotch,” said Blitz, waving his hooves franticly, “Calm down. It’s not anything you haven’t done before. Now, why don’t you…”

“NO. I’M A MONSTER. GET AWAY FROM ME!” Tears rolled down Scotch’s cheek.

Wanda put her hooves on his chest. “Scotchie. Scotchie. It’s all right. You’re overreacting. Take deep breaths. It’ll be okay.”

“NO! GET OUT! NOW!

And then he was alone. He fell to the floor, sobbing.

Claimed by the Conquerors

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Butterscotch let the brush fall from his mouth into the bucket of red paint. It had been a long night and a short, restless sleep. He was sober now. The memory of last night felt raw in his heart, like an infected wound. There was only one pony he felt safe telling about what he’d done. So, time for the summoning ritual.

“Eris, I call thee. Eris, I invoke thee. Eris, I, um, bind thee. If you’re not busy. We can talk later if you are.”

The cottage, abandoned all night by Scotch’s animals, echoed with the sound of scuttling insects. Scotch froze as a wave of cockroaches rushed in from all around towards the center of the circle, terrified he might accidentally step on one. They climbed over each other, forming a towering, crawling, asymmetrically-antlered shape that loomed over Scotch’s form.

“There are those who call me Mohini. There are those who who call me Empusa. There are those who call me Xiombarg. There are those who call me Eris.” The draconequus mare leaned out of her summoning circle, dripping roaches, and grinned slyly at Butterscotch. “But you can call me any time.”

“Eris, I did something horrible!” He wailed, throwing his forelegs around her, sobbing bitterly. “Blitz and I had sex with my sister!”

She blinked at him. “And?”

Scotch stared at her, his eyes still squirting tears. “And what?”

Eris gently wiped Scotch’s cheeks. “You said you did something horrible. Did you murder them afterwards and bathe in their blood? Did you get the munchies and eat a foal? What?”

“Um, no,” said Scotch, looking confused. “Who would do something like that?”

“Oh, no one I can think of. I certainly never would. Here’s a roach to cuddle. Sit on the couch, I’ll make you some tea and you can tell auntie Eris all about it.”

Scotch climbed up on the couch, and stroked his cockroach’s glistening carapace. It tickled him with its antenna, and he giggled. Eris snapped her fingers, and a tea set appeared. It swarmed around her, tiny wings flapping. She plucked two cups from the air, handed one to Scotch, and sat down. It was literally physically painful to her to resist the visual pun of turning her little mortal friend into a teacup, but for Scotch she could just about manage it. Anyhow, there was always the danger she’d forget how to turn him back. She listened, munching thoughtfully on her teacup, to his tale of alleged woe.

“Oh, Butterscotch, Butterscotch. You are such a pure and innocent soul,” she said, patting him patronizingly on the top of his head.

He looked up at her, eyes red. “So you don’t judge me?”

“It would be dreadfully hypocritically of me. Of course, as the goddess of chaos, hypocrisy is de rigueur, but in this case it hardly seems worth the effort. Scotch, I’ve laid waste to empires and ruined millions of lives. I don’t mean to sound cruel, but your little incest drama seems… dare I say it, trite.”

“I forgive you,” he said, cradling the bug against his chest.

Eris raised an eyebrow. “For being cruel to you?”

Scotch shook his head. “For being evil.”

Eris laughed. “Well, I forgive you for being a silly little mayfly mortal. And I promise to be good for however long you are alive. Well, sort of good, anyway. But seriously, Scotchie love, what did you expect to find when you started ‘exploring your sexuality’? That everything in you would be sweet and nice?”

Scotch leaned away from her. “I’m the Element of Kindness.”

She snorted. “Being kind is not the same as being nice. Nor is it the same as being good. You ought to know that. Anyhow, if this really is as dark as you can go — and if it is I admit to feeling somewhat sorry for you — but if you’ve truly hit rock bottom, then there’s no place for you to go but up. As a friend of mine once said, ‘We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.’ Or at least, I think it was a friend of mine. It might have been me… a long time ago…” Her eyes began to get that distant look they got before she entered one of her fugue states.

“But what about Faust? Won’t she punish me?” Scotch’s eyes were wide with fear and repentance.

Eris took a deep breath. As with sausages and laws, lovers of monotheistic Gods were better off not knowing how they were made. The urge to tell Scotch the truth was overwhelming, but the effort made her feel as though worms were gnawing their way through her skull. A comforting half-truth would do, she supposed. “Faust and I are not on the best terms,” she said, “but I have met her, and I do know she loves all her creations very much, and forgives them if they are sorry.”

A vein under her eye twitched. That was too close to the truth. The worms began to chew faster.

“What do I do now?” said Scotch.

“Whatever you want, mayfly. We are all of us condemned to be free. That’s not one of mine. I always did detest Sartre; he was constantly stealing my lilypads.” Eris smacked her lips. “Those sweet, delicious lilypads.”

Scotch realized his friend wouldn’t be lucid much longer. He let his roach scuttle free and went to his bedroom to get her a blanket. Then he shooed the tea things out into the Everfree and left her alone. It wasn’t always safe to be around Eris when she got like this.

It was a quiet morning. As he walked downhill towards Ponyville, he remembered that it was Thursday. The girls would be here by tonight.

———

Scotch sighed. Blitz was avoiding him. He was never hard to find on a workday — his little rainbow contrail stood out from the other weather ponies, making him easy to spot. They flew far up in the sky where Scotch didn’t feel safe, up where winds were strong and cold, and clouds huge and easy to get lost in. In the past he had often flagged down his friend for lunch dates or, more recently, for a quick nooner, but today it wasn’t happening. Perhaps Blitz was having fun up there with Wanda. Without him.

He slunk over to Sugarcube Corner. A small mob of protesters had formed out front, led by that gray weather pony. Mr. Cake, standing on a box so that his short but hefty blue bulk could be seen over the heads of the crowd, bellowed into a megaphone, “I repeat: We will continue making muffins and muffin-related pastries for the foreseeable future, don’cha know. There is no, I repeat, no muffin crisis. Please disperse, and return to your homes.”

Scotch sighed. Time to hit Queequeg’s. He turned around and bumped noses with Swishy Belle.

“Hi!” said Swishy. “We weren’t following you!”

“Not at all,” said Scootaroll, who for some reason was wearing a collar. Was that a new fashion with the colts? He felt so old sometimes.

“They’re lying,” said Apple Buck. “We were stalking you.”

Swishy glared at him. “Bucky! You’ll scare him off!”

Scotch began to back away. “Why are you stalking me?”

Buck blushed, and grinned. “Shucks, Uncle Scotch. Swishy was telling us about the mission Blitz sent you on, and what a good time he had with you the other night, and Scoots and I were feeling a little jealous.”

Scotch craned his neck. They were all wearing those tighty whitey things. Scotch had left his at home. By the third day of vigorous sexual activity, they were starting to look a bit… yellow. He glanced left and right, then over his shoulder at the crowd in front of Sugarcube. “This really isn’t a good conversation to be having in public.”

“You could come back to our clubhouse,” suggested Buck. “It’s real private there.”

Scotch considered. How much trouble could you get into in a clubhouse? It was one room, with thin walls and no sanitary facilities. A terrible place for sex. And he needed someplace to lie low until the party tonight. “Sure. I’ll come. Just to hang out, though. Nothing… you know, inappropriate.”

“See, I told you he was cool,” said Swishy.

———

The clubhouse had changed since the last time Scotch had seen it. “You’ve, um, done a lot of work.”

Apple Buck nodded. “Yup. Got it hooked up to the plumbing, gas, and electrical. Put in a kitchenette, half-bath, and bedroom. We got foosball and air hockey, too!”

Scotch suddenly felt nervous. “I like foosball.” Actually he hated foosball.

“And we have a PonyStation 5!” said Scoots.

“Okay, that’s good,” said Scotch.

“It’s the best,” said Swishy, taking his foreleg in hoof. “C’mon up. We’ll play.”

“I feel like I’m being lured. Am I being lured?” He dragged his hooves up the staircase.

Scoots tucked his head under Scotch’s dock, pushing him from behind. “You’re… going… to come… have fun with us… if… it’s… the last thing… we do!”

Scotch’s eyes grew very wide. “If, um, you say so. I think I hear my dogs calling me.” Actually Faust knew where his dogs were. Probably roving the town in a pack, eating out of trash cans and pooping on lawns. The mayor would have things to say.

“Oh, come on!” said Swishy, dragging him through the door. Buck followed them and closed it. Scoots and Swishy guided him to the couch. Scoots immediately powered up the game console. It was a game he wasn’t familiar with — something about a stripper with guns on her horseshoes.

“What’s that?” said Scotch, trying to ignore the two jars of lube sitting next to the couch.

“Ponynetta 3. It’s okay.”

Scotch nodded. The stripper pony seemed to be dressed in her own hair. Every few beats, she would whip it off her body, and use it to splatter a winged monster across the screen. Watching her, he felt torn between extreme sexual desire and an urge to go out and see if the shoe shop had gun heels in his size.

“So,” said Buck, sitting down and putting his leg around Swishy. “Here we are.”

“Yep,” said Swishy, stroking Buck’s hind leg, “just three horny, barely legal teens and an older stallion, alone on a couch.”

Scotch bit his lower lip. “Um, okay. Hey, that game looks great. Can I play?”

Scootaroll handed him the controller. Scotch was bewildered by the combo system, but randomly mashing the buttons seemed to result in an adequate amount of carnage. The next thing he knew, Ponynetta was dead.

The witch hunts are over!” said the console.

“Does that mean I died? Why did I die?” said Scotch, turning the controller over and over in his hooves.

He was met by quiet giggles. Something in his peripheral vision wasn’t quite right. Looking left and right, he saw three prime young stallion asses, and three pairs of balls. They’d pulled their tighty whities down around their thighs, so that the elastic dug into muscular flesh. The white fabric set off their endowments nicely. Scotch was instantly hard. He swore internally.

“Damn, Swish, look at the size of that thing that thing! Looks like I owe you ten bits,” said Apple Buck.

Scotch’s cock’s flare ruffled the fluff on his chest. “Is this… is this some kind of prank?”

“No tricks, uncle Scotch,” said Scoots. “We want you inside of us!”

“Yeah,” said Buck, “They’re always makin’ me top. When Swishy told me how big you were… Well, I knew right away I had to have you inside me.”

Scotch’s cock pulsed so hard it hurt.

“What do you think?” asked Swishy, eyes brimming with hope. “Will you play with us?”

Scotch answered by leaning over and sniffing Swishy’s ponut. “You’re clean.”

“Take a lick and see how clean,” said Swishy, wiggling his plump ass seductively.

Scotch fell to his knees, pushed Swishy’s very round cheeks apart with his hooves, and ran his tongue from the bottom of his balls to the cusp of his dock. He nuzzled up under there, and pushed his tongue as deep into Swishy as he would go. It was silky and salty all the way.

“Oh, Faust,” moaned Scotch, pulling his tongue out with a quiet pop. “It’s amazing!”

Buck chuckled. “Enemas before you came over. We’re all like that. Don’t be shy.”

So Scotch gorged himself. Buck’s haunches were shaggy, hard and broad like all the Apples’ were. Scoots was lean and sleek like Blitz was. All of their assholes were perfect and delicious. He cycled between all three, burying his tongue deep in hot flesh until it ached so badly he could barely talk. He didn’t neglect their balls, either — three heavy sacks were glistening with spit by the time he was done.

“You don’t have to just use your mouth, you know,” said Swishy, flexing his plump cheeks. “Just don’t come too quickly. You’ve got three hungry sluts to satisfy.”

“Hey! I ain’t no slut!” said Buck, grabbing Swishy’s head and rubbing his hoof against the top of his skull.

“You are! You are a slut and I’m not taking it back!” squawked Swishy.

Scotch lubed up and flapped up into the air. His nose barely reached to the big stallion’s withers. He pushed his flare under Buck’s tail, finding access remarkably easy. He slid right inside. He was used to ponies being so tight it hurt him a little — Faust knew how it felt to them. But buck was just smooth and hot and comfortable.

“Do you like it?” growled Scotch, grinding his balls against Buck’s taint.

Bucky groaned, arching his back “I love it. I love it! I’ve never had a cock so big up my ass, Uncle Scotch! Buck me harder! I can take it!”

Scotch grunted and slammed forward, thighs bouncing off Buck’s big, hard rump. He pushed his head against the back of Buck’s neck, loving not having to worry about hurting his partner for once. Well, he worried a little. But not much.

“Hurry up! I want a turn,” moaned Swishy, wiggling his ass.

“Don’t be greedy,” growled Buck, his eyes clenched closed and his teeth gritted. “You… you already had him… and… oh Faust, he’s hittin’ the good spot.”

They were all good spots for Scotch. He pumped from flare to balls, as fast as he could, until his heart hammered and his breath was short. His medial ring plucked at Buck’s ponut every time it passed through it. Buck slammed back against him, groaning, until his ass started to clench around him, and his cum sprayed across the couch cushion beneath him

“Ungh gah gah!” whimpered Buck. Scotch pulled out of him, grinning like a maniac, and immediately got on top of Swishy. He couldn’t fit inside. His cock bounced off those jiggly cheeks, missing the wide-open ponut by a mile. “Easy, Uncle Scotch. We’ve got all afternoon.”

Scotch took a deep breath. Relaxed, he was able to slide inside the young femcolt. Swishy arched against his barrel and buried his face in the couch cushion. “Oh Faust you fill me up so good, uncle Scotch!”

“You... you guys are lucky I’ve had such a busy week,” said Scotch. “Otherwise I don’t think I’d have made it past Buck. You’re all...” He blushed. “You’re all so hot. And so sweet.”

“Whatever.” Scoots socked him in the shoulder. “Just don’t blow it now. You still gotta do me.”

Swishy clenched his ponut closed around Scotch’s cock. “Not ’til I’m done!”

“Darn it, waiting sucks!” Scoots climbed up over Swishy and grabbed Scotch’s head, balancing on the back of the couch, flipper wings buzzing. “Open wide, Uncle Scotch!”

Scotch squeaked when Scoots’ cock squished into the end of his nose, but he opened up for it as asked. There was no point in being rude. Or in mentioning that he didn’t need to open terribly wide for it. He closed his eyes, loving the frantic energy with which Scoots humped his mouth. He wrapped his tongue around the little flare, and Scoots moaned and clutched at his mane. “Uncle Scotch! Oh, uncle Scotch!!”

Almost before he knew it, Scoots was squirting in his mouth. Scotch remembered when he had found cum disgusting. It wasn’t that long ago. Now he swallowed it hungrily, glowing with pride that he had made Scoots come so quickly. Beneath him, Swishy was shaking and moaning. A few carefully timed thrusts, and the young stallion under him was coming too. Soon Scotch, Swishy and Scoots were lying on the couch in a sweaty pile. But there was a problem.

“Um…” said Scotch, staring at his throbbing cock as he slid it, glistening, out of Swishy’s ass.

“Don’t worry, we gotcha,” said Buck, coming back from the bathroom with a wet towel.

“I’m so sorry,” said Scotch as Buck started wiping his cock clean. “It felt really good. I just couldn’t come. I’ve been having a lot of sex lately. I might be dry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

Buck laughed, and finished polishing, then tossed the towel into a corner. “Chill, uncle Scotch. We’re good at this.”

Scotch watched in wonder as that ruggedly handsome young face slid over the end of his cock. Scoots and Swishy cuddled up against Scotch’s flanks, and nuzzled the sides of his shaft. Apple Buck, as big as he was, could only get about halfway down the shaft, but he worked it vigorously. Drool trickled over the veiny surface of Scotch’s dick. Swishy followed a trail of spit back up to Buck’s lips, and Buck pulled back so that they could kiss each other around his flare. Scoots let out a muffled moan as he took one of Scotch’s balls in his mouth.

Scotch closed his eyes and leaned back, luxuriating in the feeling of three hot, soft young mouths exploring his dick. He still couldn’t come.

He tried to relax, focusing on the feeling rather than his embarrassment about not being able to finish. Their mouths were going to get tired soon, and he’d be stuck with his hooves. His heart started to race.

Then he thought of Blitz smiling at him.

“Glurk!” The burst of cum caught Buck by surprise. He nearly choked on it and he pulled back, leaving Scotch’s cock spurting like a fountain onto Swishy and Scoots’ faces.

And Scotch started to cry.

“Oh, Uncle Scotch!” said Scoots, scrambling up to be side by side with him. “What’s the matter?”

“Did it hurt?” said Swishy. One of his eyes was plastered shut with cum, which only made him look more confused.

Scotch sobbed. “I miss Blitz so much!” he wailed, tears and snot rolling down his face.

The three friends hugged him.

“It’s okay,” said Buck. “He’s gonna be at the party tonight. You can tell him how much you love him then.”

“He’s my best friend!”

“We know. We know.” Swishy stroked Scotch’s mane. “It’ll be okay.”

After a while, Scotch drifted off to sleep. When he woke up, the three young stallions were cleaned up, and wearing glittering sequined dresses.

“Cutie Mark Conquerors drag review!” they shouted, hooves in the air.

Pounded in the Butt by Third Act Melodrama

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Everypony was at the party.

The mares from Equestria β were there, of course —Scotch had met Twilight, Rainbow Dash, and Fluttershy before. Rarity was more or less what he expected, intimidatingly beautiful, fabulously elegant, and wearing a dress every bit as fabulous and uncomfortable-looking as one of Elusive’s suits. Pinkie Pie was wearing a suit as well, but Scotch doubted that this was normal for her, since she’d already gotten frosting on the lapel. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Bubble Berry was wearing a minidress and fishnet stockings.

Mare Applejack was a lot louder than stallion Applejack. A lot louder.

The alicorn mares were there as well. Three of them, sitting at a table with Solaris, Artemis, and Bolero, giggling like schoolfillies and drinking like lumberjacks. Scotch gave that table a wide berth — six princes and princesses meant six times as many chances to embarrass himself in front of royalty. But honestly, he was giving all the tables a wide berth. The party had been heavily crashed by ponies from his own universe. Sugar Cube Corner was packed, and this many ponies together always made Scotch a little panicky. He hid in the corner behind a giant amp, so that he wasn’t visible from the stage — DJ COL7 was playing, which was awkward — and let himself relax a little. Bubble had stocked the open bar with plenty of Glenfilly. Enough shots of that, and Scotch could be brave.

He inhaled the paint thinner-like fumes coming from his very full little glass and sighed happily. It was a lovely drink. He held it up to admire the way the amber liquid held the light, how its legs clung to the ice cubes.

He heard a large throat being cleared. He looked up. Way up.

“I’m sorry I hit you,” said Pink Lady.

Scotch gulped.

“You made me feel cheap. But I’m bigger than you, and I shouldn’t have hit you. So I’m sorry.”

“It’s… it’s okay. I haven’t been myself lately.”

“I know Blitz probably put you up to it.”

“Indirectly, but yeah.”

“I like the normal you, though.”

“Thanks.”

“A lot.”

And she kissed him on the nose and lumbered away. Scotch blinked. “Um, okay?”

“Butterscotch! Scotchie! How ya’… How ya’ doin’! You wan… wanna drink?” Dusk Shine bumped a bottle of cider against Scotch’s nose.

“I’ve got one, thanks.”

The junior prince and princess were leaning on each other, levitating wine coolers and magic markers. They had written equations on each other’s faces. They were going to look pretty un-royal in the morning. Scotch tried to wriggle back in further between the amp and the wall. “Um, hi, Dusk.”

“I hear… hic I hear you’ve been having some… adventures lately.” He grinned and socked Scotch in the shoulder with a wine cooler. “Way to go… hic pal.”

Scotch whimpered and rubbed his shoulder.

Twilight Sparkle cooed. “Oh, he’s… hic even shyer than Fluttershy! It’s so… so cute!”

Scotch shuffled his hooves and looked away. “So, um, how are you guys?”

“We’re… we’re exploring interdimensional physics. The interaction of… hic bodies from parallel universes,” said Dusk.

Scotch blinked at them.

“We’re going to have sex,” explained Twilight. “Behind the amps.”

“Oh.”

Twilight leaned towards Scotch, grinning. “Vibrations,” she explained.

“I didn’t need to know that,” he squeaked. And he was gone in a puff of feathers.

There was no hope. If he didn’t go to the party, the party was going to come to him. He looked around the room. Pink Lady was watching him with smoky longing in her eyes. In the far corner, he could see Blitz at a table, talking to Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, but he couldn’t face Blitz just yet. He didn’t feel like there was much he could contribute to Elusive and Rarity’s conversation. Mr. and Mrs. Cake were manning the bar, so he wanted to visit that as little as possible. And he certainly wouldn’t be welcome at the table with the five royals — there were those who called the Element Bearers heroes, but clearly they meant his friends, not him.

Wait, only five royals?

A sonorous tenor voice came from above and behind him. It was getting to be a theme for the night. “Your dreams have been troubled of late, little one.”

Scotch scrunched down, kneeling before the Prince of the Night. Artemis was absolutely, amazingly beautiful. Glossy indigo hide. Lean muscles that would be the envy of any athlete. A massive, powerful, um… wingspan. A mane like midnight thunderclouds. And if you looked into his eyes long enough — which Scotch had only been brave enough to try once — you could see constellations.“I don’t remember any of them lately,” he said.

“We wouldn’t want to, if we were you,” said Artemis. “You may rise, by the way. We do not, on this specific occasion, stand on ceremony.”

“I don’t know what to do,” said Scotch.

“You set out to find out who you are. We think you’ve learned a great deal, have you not?”

Scotch shrugged. “I had sex with a lot of different stallions.” He had decided the night with Wanda had never happened. “It was fun, but I wouldn’t do it again. And I don’t really feel any different.”

Artemis nodded, levitated his beer to his lips, and took a sip.

“And… I miss Blitz. A lot.”

“There are many ways for your story to end, little one. But only one way for you to get to those endings.”

“I, uh, don’t understand?”

“I think you do.”

Scotch gulped. He really didn’t.

Artemis tilted his head back, and emptied the bottle. “Now, if you will excuse us, we are dry. You have our blessing, whatever ending you choose.”

Scotch slugged back the rest of his Glenfilly. He couldn’t see Blitz’s table from where he was. Almost everypony he knew was here, and he still felt so alone. The bodies of strangers swirled around him, a blur of scents and sounds and colors. Artemis wanted him to do something, but woldn’t tell him what. His heart began to beat faster. He was having a hard time breathing. He was about to well and truly panic when he was ambushed by a pink hug in a red dress.

“SCCOOOTTCCCH!” yelled Bubble Berry.

“Ack!” said Scotch.

“I just wanted you to know that you’re wonderful, no matter what, and that all of us love you tons!”

“Um, thank you?”

“Also Blitz feels really bad about something, and he won’t tell me what, but he thinks you’re mad at him so maybe go talk to him?”

Scotch blinked. That was probably what Artemis had meant he should do. Why didn’t he think of that?

Bubble Berry kissed him full on the lips, leaving a smear of lipstick behind. “Okay, gotta sing now. Enjoy the show!”

Pinkie was already caressing the stand mic, and the Conquerors were behind her, ’woo woo’ing and rocking their hips slowly.

“I’ve never seen your eyes so wide. I’ve never seen your appetite quite this occupied. Elsewhere is your feast of love, I know…”

Bubble climbed up on the stage and took up the male vocals.

“Long ago we agree to keep it light, but let’s be married one more night. It’s light, light enough to let it go.”

Scotch felt like he might start to panic again at any moment. He wriggled towards the pegasus-only table on the far side of the room. But by the time he got there, Rainbow Blitz was gone. Scotch sat down, and slammed his face against the table, making Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash’s glasses jump.

Fluttershy yelped, and grabbed Rainbow Dash’s foreleg.

“Sorry,” said Scotch. “I can go wallow in agony somewhere else, if you want.”

“Boy, I don’t know what you two fought about, but Blitz took off in a blur the moment he saw you coming,” said Rainbow Dash.

Scotch made a noise like a strangling duck. Fluttershy glared at Dash, and slipped away from her marefriend to hug Scotch gently. “Don’t worry, honey.”

“Yeah, Blitz just has commitment phobia,” said Dash. “Been there. Done that.”

Scotch opened one eye. “How did you get through it?”

“In our own way,” said Fluttershy. “You have to work it out between you. You’re different ponies. Well, sort of.”

Dash took a gulp of cider. “You should chase him. I’m guessing he’ll probably go slow enough for you to catch up.”

–––

Blitz sat on a raincloud, hunched over, drifting away from Sugarcube Corner. When it started to sputter dry, he gave it a kick, and it started pouring again. Scotch flapped down to sit next to him. He scooted over to make room.

“Wanda quit the EWS before lunch,” said Blitz.

“Typical,” said Scotch.

“She was surprised it was hard work! Of course it’s hard work! If it were easy, we wouldn’t get all those cool benefits! I went to bat for her, and she just threw it away!”

“She’s like that.”

“How can somepony so awful be related to somepony so wonderful?”

Scotch blinked. “You mean like my mom?”

Blitz punched him in the side. “I don’t deserve you.”

“No. I don’t deserve you.”

Blitz squeezed his eyes shut. Tears welled up. “I wanted you for so long. Then I had you, and I started trying to push you away the first chance I got. And then when you came back, I pushed harder.”

“I forgive you,” said Scotch.

“Faust! I made you buck your sister. What else do I have to do to you? Rape you? Kill your dogs?”

Scotch felt a brief chill in his heart. Then he heard barking and a pony swearing in the distance. The dogs were fine. “You’d… um… you’d have a really hard time raping me. I’d pretty much do anything you asked me to.”

“Yeah, you would, wouldn’t you. Maybe you need a pony who won’t actually take advantage of that.” With that, Blitz unfurled his wings and leapt into the sky. “Don’t try to follow me. I saw you with Pink Lady. She’d be good for you. Better than me.” And he was gone.

“Oh, I am so peeved right now,” said Scotch. And he took off after him.

Blitz wasn’t holding back this time. He went high, and he went fast. Blitz had taught Scotch a lot about flying, but it was all he could do to keep Blitz in sight. They flew to altitudes where the air was freezing cold and the wind kept switching directions in sudden gusts and blowing Scotch off course. Huge banks of clouds loomed. From the ground, they looked like distant puffs of cotton. Up in the sky, they were mountains. Blitz banked and climbed, whipping between towers of water vapor. When he saw Scotch was still trying to follow him, he kicked a cloud open and zoomed inside.

“Blitz! Blitz!

Scotch flapped his wings hard, trying to follow, but the air was too thin. He felt like he was flapping against nothing. He started to fall, and he panicked – he tilted his wings up instinctively, trying to slow down to a speed where he felt more comfortable, and that was the wrong move. He stalled, tumbled, and started to spin. The sky whirled around him. It was like that time Bubble had talked him into going on the roundup ride at the county fair, but he knew this ride would only end with a sudden, sharp stop. He flapped his wings wildly, trying to correct, but it was no use. Scotch clenched his teeth, and shut his eyes. He should have known he was going to die this way.

Suddenly something slammed into him. “Pull your wings in!” shouted Blitz.

“I can’t! I’ll crash!”

“You’ll crash no matter what unless you do what I say! And if you don’t do it RIGHT NOW you’re going to take me down with you!”

Scotch folded his wings. The world lurched, and suddenly he was falling straight. That was an improvement, he guessed. He cracked one eye open, and saw a long, flat bank of clouds rushing up at him. He closed his eyes again, and felt himself slowing. They landed softly. Scotch had never really liked the texture of clouds — they felt like wet wool, to him — but it was solid, and it would do. Blitz often popped wood when he flew too fast. Scotch usually popped wood when Blitz was touching him and they’d landed belly to belly.

“Faust damn it to buck, Scotch, if I ever… Oh. Wow.”

Scotch ground his hips up. Shaft to shaft. Ball to ball. Nerve endings sang.

Blitz gritted his teeth. “I am trying to say something serious to you, and you are frotting me! That’s not nice!”

Scotch grinned. “I’m kind, not nice.”

And he grabbed Blitz by the mane and kissed him. Blitz’s hips started to churn, making the cloud they were on wobble drunkenly across the sky. Scotch gasped into Blitz’s mouth, his much larger cock grinding against his friend’s. His coltfriend’s. “Rainbow… Rainbow Blitz is my coltfriend. And I love him.”

“What? I’m right here!”

Scotch came, his spunk soaking the feathery fluff of Blitz’s chest. Blitz snarled, and humped up to Scotch’s mouth. Almost as soon as he felt the warmth of freind’s mouth around him, he came. “Oh! Oh. Oh, wait. I get it. Butterscotch is my coltfriend, and I love him.” He wriggled back, pulling his cock out of Scotch’s mouth with a pop, and leaned down for a kiss. Scotch still had a mouthful of cum.

“Because he is nasty as fuck,” said Blitz, his own cum dripping from his chin.

They both laughed, and then they had sex again. And again.

———

The animals had already returned. Dogs swirled around them, sniffing and licking, as they came through the door. Blitz had to keep pushing them away from the cum dried in his chest fur. Lilith bounded up and hugged Scotch around the neck, then cuffed him upside the head.

“I know, Lilith. I’m sorry. I’d say I was never going to leave you alone with Blitz for that long again, but I’d be lying.”

Lilith sighed.

Wanda was sitting on the couch, hooves folded in front of her, looking at the floor. Blitz looked at Scotch. Scotch looked at Blitz, and then at Wanda, and then headed for the door.

“Get back here!” said Blitz, grabbing him by the neck and hauling him over to the couch. “You!” he said, pointing a hoof at Wanda. “And you!” He pointed at Scotch, who was squirming against his other hoof. “Make up. I’m not having a rift between siblings on my conscience.”
They looked away from each other. Hooves were shuffled. Blitz sighed. “I haven’t got all day. Wanda — what are you sorry for. I statements only.”

“I’m sorry I seduced you,” said Wanda. “I… love you. In a very unsisterly way. And... you know, being with you reminded me of being safe at home, and not working at a hard job in a strange city and being scared I’ll buck up all the time.” She gulped, and risked a glance at Scotch.

“And I’m sorry I freaked out about it. I felt guilty and I took it out on you two even though it was my decision to join in.” Scotch sighed. “I love you in a very unbrotherly way, but I think you need to learn to stand on your own four hooves.”

Blitz pulled them both together into a hug. “Okay. That’s great. We can have breakfast now. I’m starving.”

“Um, Blitz,” croaked Scotch, “Wanda still doesn’t have a job.”

Wanda tried to blink back tears. Blitz facehoofed. “I can probably get you back on the weather force.”

Wanda took a deep breath, and shook her head. “I… am going back to Manehattan. And I am going to try to get my job back.”

Scotch hugged her. “Good luck, little sis.”

Blitz noticed there were noises coming from the kitchen. “Wanda, who let you in here, anyway?”

“Soup’s up!” said Eris, bursting through the kitchen door holding a half-dozen steaming platters in a half-dozen arms. She set out haggis, cabbage soup, pineapple upside-down cake, bacon, orchid stew, and turkish coffee on coffee table.

Blitz knocked back a tiny cup of coffee and gagged. “What the hell was that?”

“You’re not supposed to drink the sludgy part on the bottom,” said Scotch, breaking up strips of bacon to feed to the dogs. “This wasn’t anyone we knew, was it, Eris?”

“Oh, I’d never! Sorry I missed the party. Did anything interesting happen? Heartbreak? Humiliation? Gruesome accidents?”

“I don’t know. We checked out early.”

“That’s not like you,” said Eris, raising an eyebrow. “It’s like Scotch, though.”

“We had sex,” said Scotch, “and agreed that we’re in love forever.”

Blitz grinned. “We did?”

“That was my interpretation. If I’m wrong, don’t tell me, okay?” Scotch kissed him on the cheek. Blitz laughed and scooped himself a plate of stew. Wanda giggled and rolled her eyes.

“Oh good. You’re such a cute couple. When’s the wedding?” drawled Eris.

Blitz froze, a spoonful of orchids halfway to his mouth.

Scotch shrugged. “Whenever Blitz is ready.”

Blitz laughed. “That might be a little while, okay, buddy?”

Scotch narrowed his eyes. “Eris can officiate, you know. She’s a reverend and/or priestess in six different religions.”

“And captain of my own ship,” she said, pulling a small stack of legal forms out of her chest fur. “Oh, also I’m technically a goddess. I keep forgetting that.”

In a puff of blue feathers, Blitz vanished under the couch.