Crack!
“Come now, strong stallion, we shan't arrive on time at this rate.” Luna’s voice boomed as she cracked the whip held in her magic. “A stallion as strong and as bold as you should have no problem with this. You are the ‘mighty’ Shock n’ Awe, are you not?” The silver aura around the whip twitched and the whip came down upon a dark blue stallion.
“Shnargf!” Shock n’ Awe cried out as the whip came down upon his flank yet again. The once mighty and boastful stallion was covered in sweat, eyes wide, the veins around his neck visible as he struggled against his harness. He was attached to a large marble throne which Luna sat upon, a whip held in her magical aura, looking down at the stallion with the faintest smile upon her royal lips.
“Lousy… no good… psychotic… manipulative… bit—Arugh!” Shock let out another cry as the whip came down upon his flank with a loud crack!
“What was that, little colt? I could not hear over such mewling cries,” Luna said, her prim and proper tinged with malicious glee as she cracked the whip in the air.
“I… I said… All Glory to the most… beautiful, smartest, prettiest... nrgh sunova...wisest, mercifulest, and all around b-bestest princess, Princess Luna Vicit Noctis,” Shock grumbled out, his entire body strained as he took each step,the immeasurable weight behind him creaking as it inched along. “Sovereign of the St-stars and Guardian of the Dreamscape.”
“That is correct, my fine stallion.” Her horn flared just a hint brighter as she added a few dozen more pounds to the already imposing throne. “Tis been too long since I have heard the old titles used. A much better form of address than those terrible things you said about me years ago, wouldn’t you agree?”
“What?!” Shock turned his head to face her, eye still twitching, his right eye bloodshot, adding to his already deranged expression. “You still have your starry panties in a wad about that?! It was a compliment! I didn’t mean to—” the whip lashed across his tender flanks once again, this time causing him to jump into the air a bit— “son of a sireless goat!”
“Quiet, date,” Luna hissed, glaring down at Shock, readying the whip again. “What you said was insensitive, demeaning, and sexist. This is more than fair punishment.” Luna huffed, looking upon the whip, readying another strike.
“All I said is that you have a big flank! That is a good thing! I like mares who have some junk in the… Beard of Star Swirl!”
“Thou shalt remain silent unless asked to speak,” Luna said, nearly cackling with barely repressed glee. “Otherwise this date shall only get worse for you.”
Shock looked over his shoulder at Luna, one eyebrow raised above the other. “Wait… I-I've been pulling this friggin' throne for hours! This date is almost—”
“This date will be over when I say it’s over,” Luna said, cutting him off. “That being tonight, or next week, or in a few months… I haven’t decided yet” Luna said, tapping the butt of the whip against her chin. “Why, depending on my whims and your words, who knows? Perhaps...” Her sadistic grin widened, and for just a moment, Shock would swear he saw her teeth elongate into fangs. “The date... shall last... forever!”
Shock gulped. Somewhere along the way had died and he had been sent to Hell. He was sure of it.
“Oh, don’t look so dower,” Twilight said. “It'll be fun! Just wait and see.”
Spike merely grumbled in response, refusing to give a comment on his current predicament. He sat perched in his usual spot between Twilight's shoulder blades, dressed in a snazzy suit coat and tie as they made their way towards Carousel Boutique.
Twilight loved her surrogate little brother like none other, and generally wouldn’t enjoy seeing him so grumpy, but the whole situation was just too cute for her voice to not have at least a hint of glee. The little dragon had his sights set on Rarity from the moment they came to Ponyville, so ever since Sweetie Belle won him in the auction, the Castle of Friendship had been filled with the faint smell of brimstone and ash, telltale signs of a pouty dragon. Still, the fact that Sweetie had a crush on him made the situation so painfully adorable.
“I don’t want to,” Spike grumbled back, his arms crossed and looking away.
“Oh, don’t be like that,” Twilight replied as they drew closer to Carousel Boutique. “I bet you’re going to have a lot of fun! Just go in with an open mind, and who knows? You may actually enjoy it!” Twilight said, putting as much cheer into her voice as possible. All Spike did in reply was grumble, making Twilight roll her eyes.
“Look, I know you wanted a date with Rarity, but it was an auction, and you were given to Sweetie,” Twilight said, trying to sound comforting. “So please, be a good little dragon? For me?”
After a few moments of alicorn-powered puppy dog eyes, Spike sighed, and the corner of his lips turned upwards ever so slightly. “Fine. For you,” he grumbled. They finally reached the Boutique, and Spike jumped off of Twilight's back, his scowl returning as he glared at the door. Instead of going on a romantic date with the mare of his dreams he had to go with her annoying little sister.
Standing before his demise, Spike looked back at Twilight, who gave an encouraging nod. He sighed, steeled his nerves, and knocked on the door. Before he could get out a second knock, the door flew open. Sweetie Belle stood on the other side, trotting in place with pure excitement. She wore a light blue dress with a green sash around her midsection, and a matching bow atop her flank. Her curly purple mane was done up in a rather breathtaking fashion, and her dress was cinched around a delicious looking emerald on her chest that matched her eyes. It was obvious that Rarity had spared no expense or effort in making her little sister look amazing for her big date.
Despite his best efforts to maintain his grumpy demeanor, the beauty on display made Spike’s cheeks flame a bit. “H-hey Sweetie,” he said, “Ready to… go on our, uh….”
“Of course!” Sweetie Belle sang, wrapping her forelegs around Spike’s neck and nuzzling him affectionately. “I already have it all planned out!”
Just like that, his pout was back in full force. “Our faces are touching,” Spike mumbled, which made Twilight giggle yet again.
“Of course they are!” Sweetie exclaimed. “We’re on a date! Now, let's get going!” She chirped. Giving his face one last nuzzle, Sweetie trotting down the road with a skip in her step. Spike slapped his forehead. He looked to Twilight one last time for an exit of some sort, but she just winked and nodded her head in the direction Sweetie had gone. Letting out one last smoky snort, he trudged after the filly.
“Aww,” Twilight mumbled. “Those two make such a cute couple.”
“I heard that!” Spike cried from further down the street.
“I know,” she called, well aware of his sensitive draconic hearing. With one last giggle, she made her way back towards the castle.
Cheerilee swooned as Bulk Biceps recited a bit of Emily Hoofinson. She had always loved poetry, and the way the big, muscular stallion passionately recited the lines took it to an entirely new plane. The two of them sat under one of the many trees in the park. Bulk Biceps read from the little red book while he leaned against the tree, while Cheerilee laid on her side, enjoying the words the stallion spoke. The date had started off simple enough with a picnic in the park, remnants of food and drink laid around them as Cheerilee listened to Bulk’s reading.
She had chosen the book of poetry for Bulk to read to her—a collection of her favorite poems—and the large stallion was doing a magnificent job of reading each stanza. So much so that his words were sending shivers up and down her spine.
“That was magnificent, Mister Biceps,” Cheerilee said as Bulk came to the end of another poem. “I had no idea the heart of a poet beat under that… impressive physique.”
“Yeah!” Bulk shouted, flexing his forelegs to show their impressive size, leaving Cheerilee blinking in reaction, as a few birds flew from the tree in startled surprise. One second he was performing poetry with a master’s level of diction, and the next he was back to screaming one word and showing off his body. She just smiled and shook her head. This stallion was a conundrum that she was all too willing to figure out.
“Indeed,” she said, watching him flex some more. “But I must ask, how did you get into poetry? Forgive me for sounding ignorant, but I wouldn't have guessed a stallion like you would have such an... intellectual interest.” Cheerilee felt sorry for any pony with a white coat after that, for it was impossible for Bulk’s blush not to be noticed against his snow white fur.
“Heh, I, uh…” he scratched the back of his head as he spoke, looking down at her comparatively tiny body. “I used to read it to Featherweight whenever he was fussy or couldn’t fall asleep. I’d recite some Robert Trots or Langston Hooves, and it would soothe him,” Bulk said, his face getting even redder. “I-I hear he’s doing well in class, by the way. Thanks for taking good care of him!”
“He’s an excellent student,” she said with a smile. “A little timid at times, but very clever. You should be proud of him.”
Bulk’s face practically lit up at those words, showing off the pride only a father could possess. “Yeah!” He shouted again, getting to his hooves and flexing his arms once again, throwing out a few punches in sheer joy. “That’s my colt!”
Cheerilee giggled at his reaction. She loved seeing a parent’s eyes light up when she told them things like that. Though now a thought popped into her head, one that she probably should have considered a long time ago. “Mister Biceps…”
“Just Bulk is fine. We are on a date, after all,” he said, flashing her a smile. Cheerilee just smiled back, though her own smile was not as convincing.
“Yes, of course Bulk, but I’ve always wondered, where is Featherweight's mother?” Bulk’s joyville flexing came to an abrupt stop at that question, sitting back down quite abruptly, his smile vanishing before her, leaving just a neutral mask. “Oh, Bulk, I’m so sorry! That’s way too personal a question for a first date, and an auctioned one at that!”
“No, it's fine,” he said, giving her a weak smile. “Just haven’t thought of her in a long time.”
“I see. I’m so sorry for your loss, Bulk,” Cheerilee said, coming over to the large stallion and putting her hoof on his. “It must be so hard losing her and having to raise your son on your—”
“She left us,” he all but whispered
“Pardon?”
“She left us,” Bulk said, looking up at Cheerilee. She began to speak, but he silenced her with a hoof. “No, no, it’s... it’s okay. The pregnancy was very unplanned. We weren’t even married. She wanted to... ‘take care of it,’ but I begged and pleaded. Eventually, she agreed to carry him to term, but that was it. As soon as the hospital cleared her, she left. Haven’t heard from her since. Heh, there I was, a nineteen year old bodybuilder with a few hundred bits to my name, and a screaming colt to take care of.”
He sighed. “But, I made it work. I still make most of my money from building competitions and strong pony contests. For the off seasons, I serve in the Wonderbolt Reserves one weekend a month, I work part-time at the spa, and I’m sure you’ve seen me push my little snack nut cart around town!”
Despite herself, Cheerilee chuckled. “You seem like a very dedicated father.”
“Oh, he’s my world,” Bulk said. “It gets hard sometimes, yeah, but you know what?” He looked up at her with a warm smile. “Every now and then, Feathers will come home all excited, smile that buck-toothed grin of his, and gush about some cool thing he learned in your class, and... I don’t know. It’s all worthwhile. I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Before she even knew what she was doing, Cheerilee lunged forward and wrapped her forelegs around him—or at least as far as she could reach around his massive frame—in a hug.
“You’re a good stallion,” she whispered. She held him for several long seconds before pulling back and giving him a warm smile. “I don’t have any foals of my own. I like to think of all my little ponies as my children in a way, and I take great pleasure in seeing them grow and reach their potential. I would never presume to say it compares to the experience of an actual parent, but I’d like to think that, at the very least, I understand it. I do know what it’s like to care so deeply for a child that you would go through Tartarus itself for them.”
The two ponies held each other’s gaze for several endless seconds, sharing a comforting silence that said more than their words could. Finally, Bulk smiled. “I have you fast in my fortress, and will not let you depart. But put you down in the dungeon, in the round-tower of my heart.”
Cheerilee giggled. “You know your Longpony. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised by now.” She stood, taking a few steps away from him, but never tearing her eyes away. “Well, Mister Biceps, if I may be so bold,” she blushed hard, “Featherweight might not be too pleased to know his father is dating his teacher.”
He didn’t even hesitate. “He’ll get over it.”
“That stings!”
“Oh, it does not!”
“Yes, it does!”
Rarity rolled her eyes as her magic bandaged up Thunderlane’s broken hoof, still tender from punching Blueblood the night before. The stallion that had rescued her from certain doom—actually just a bit of public embarrassment from a petty, oafish stallion, but what was life without a little melodrama—was fidgeting at the slightest touch. The tingle of her magic alone made him start crying out in pain.
“Honestly darling, I am being as gentle as I can,” Rarity said, as bandages in the light blue aura of her magic wrapped around his hoof. The two of them sat in the kitchen at Carousel Boutique, medical supplies laying across the table as Rarity worked on his hoof.
“It still hurts!” He whined, not looking at Rarity as he spoke. “We pegasi don’t walk as much, and when we do it’s usually on soft clouds. Our hooves aren’t as tough as most ponies,” he complained, earning a giggle from Rarity.
“Oh, stop acting like such a foal! A bit hard to imagine that the gallant stallion who punched royalty to defend my honor would turn around and whine like a little colt with a boo-boo,” she said with a flirtatious smirk. She gathered a roll of measuring tape in her magic and tossed it at his head.
Thunderlane jumped at the impact, more from the shock than any actual pain, and glared at her. “Hey! That’s not fair!” he snapped back, but he was smiling as he did. “I can’t move, but you can throw stuff at me.” He leaned forward a bit. “You’re a terrible nurse, you know?”
Rarity cocked an eyebrow at him, a smirk spreading across her lips. “Is that so? Well then, how about this?” She leaned forward and kissed the tip of Thunderlane’s hoof. She felt the stallion stiffen under her as she did so, making her smirk grow bigger. “Does it still hurt?” she asked, looking up at him with a sultry gaze.
With his dark fur it was hard to make out, but Rarity could see the blush on his face, his eyes darting from his hoof to her lips. “Not as much.”
Rarity just giggled to herself, as she started to wrap his hoof up again; once a new layer of bandages were around his hoof, she leaned over and kissed his hoof again. She looked up at the stallion, seeing that still flustered expression of being taken off guard, trying to reclaim his cool. “And now?” she asked, her tone a bit more sultry than the situation called for, but she couldn't help it. He was just too cute when she teased him.
“Getting better,” he muttered, golden eyes flickering to her and away. “But, the pain moved…”
Rarity cocked an eyebrow at him, moving her lips from his hoof to wrap more tape around it. “Oh? And where might the pain be now?” she asked, trying to capture his golden orbs with her sapphire ones. She could visibly see Thunderlane swallow in nervousness as he used his uninjuged hoof to point at his cheek.
“Here.” Rarity just grinned, leaning forward she pressed her lips against his cheek, brushing her nose against his fur slightly and pulling away with a smile. Once again she could see the gears spinning in Thunderlane’s head, trying to process what had happened and what it all might lead to. Looking into her eyes, she could see his hoof shaking ever so slightly as he pointed to his lips. “Here” he said, his voice barely above a whisper as Rarity gently leaned in.
It was a slow kiss. Not a frenzied make-out, but a gentle, sensual kiss. One that, with just the soft press of their lips together, promised many more to come. The kind of kiss that held the beginning of things. It shouldn't have been possible to get so much across with such simple contact, but she certainly understood, and judging by the way Thunderlane relaxed into the kiss, he did, as well.
As she slowly pulled away, she tittered at how his head leaned towards her, chasing her soft lips. “And now?” Rarity asked, her voice low and smoky, eyes half lidded as she spoke.
“Y-yeah, I’m feeling… better,” he managed. Rarity giggled and went back to wrapping up his hoof, humming to herself. The somewhat dazed look on Thunderlane’s face was such a treat. Rarity could tell she was going to have a lot of fun with this stallion.
Gulp! Gulp! Gulp!
Braeburn was a stallion who loved working up a good sweat, and he was no stranger to exertion. He worked an orchard for a living, hauling apples and bucking trees from damn near sun-up to sun-down. Beyond even that, he loved to push himself physically. He had traveled through the deserts of Palomino with little water, fought bulls one on one, and had even run a full marathon on some of the most dangerous terrain in all of Equestria. Today, however, he had finally met his match. He currently stood in Fluttershy’s kitchen, gulping down a pitcher of water like it would be his last. He had nothing on, his hat and vest discarded some time ago. His mane was a complete mess, and his coat was covered in dry sweat.
“Celestia have mercy, these filly’s will be the death of me,” Braeburn breathed, filling the pitcher up again. After the auction, Fluttershy had taken him and Spitfire back to her cottage, and then... well, things had taken place that he dared not repeat out loud for fear of angering some ancient goddess of propriety. What those two mares were into was beyond what Braeburn had ever thought possible, but hot damn was it enjoyable. He began to take another greedy gulp when a voice echoed from upstairs.
“Oh Brae-Brae!” cooed Spitfire. “You better hurry up down there. I don’t think I can keep Mistress Shy busy without you for much longer...”
“Mmm, you’re going to love me,” said a deep, husky voice.
Braeburn grinned and shrugged. “Eh, suppose there’s worse ways to go.” He dropped the pitcher in the sink and ran back upstairs.