Three figures individually draped with a black cloak approached the edge of the stream. In unison, they gasped at the sight they beheld. There, barely seen in the crescent moon’s soft glow, was their Aqueous Fly Trap.

The one on the very left ran through the water. “N-no! No no! He’s been destroyed! Mutilated! Assassinated! Murdered!” He rested his front hooves on the creature’s no longer moving head. “Wh-what? Why does he feel so… open? So soft?” He lifted the jaw and immediately let go as he caught a horrific sight.

“He’s been… harvested! Some savage beast has removed the beast’s tongue and some of its meat!” He buried his face into his hooves, bawling over the plant. “But the cuts are so smooth, it has to have been a knife, a blade, even a deft claw…”

The figure on the right approached the carcass and followed its body down the stream until he reached the stem, torn asunder. “There was struggle. It was quick. I am sorry.”

The figure in the middle bowed his head. “Synonym, it’s done. Your plant was a good one, we caught travelers without lifting a hoof with him. We can give him a proper burial, but first we should find the thing that did this to him.” He waded through the water and rested a hoof on Synonym’s shoulder. “He’d want that.”

Synonym quit his sniffling and raised his head, slowly. “You’re right,” he replied, wiping his nose, “he-he would want us to do that.”

The figure in the middle turned his attention to the figure examining the stem. “Triad.”

He watched Triad walk around both sides of the stream until he stopped. “I found tracks. They go forward. Drenched with sap.”

With an uplifting voice and inherent sense of optimism, the middle figure stated, “That’s our guy, Synonym. Whoever did this couldn’t have gotten far.” Noticing that his partner seemed distant, he continued, “Remember the time he spit on you with that sap?”

The middle figure laughed. “Heh, yeah, you did. All we have to do is follow those tracks and look for a crazy person who smells like a pile of compost.”

Synonym put hoof to hoof with an audible smack. “Right, Triad, lead the way! Let’s find this guy and return the favor, doctor’s orders for his just deserts. Make him reap what he sowed the day he harvested my plant.”

The middle figure turned his buddy around out of the water and walked alongside him. “Easy man, this guy took down a purple Aqueous Fly Trap, we need to learn a bit about him first.” They nodded their heads and faced Triad who was waiting for them on the side of the stream. “Lead the way, Triad.”

Five more minutes? Fine, you can stay here if that’s what you want. Trixie needs to continue moving on.

Trixie thought it was obvious why she woke you up. She wants you to come with her.

She rolls her eyes. Don’t be too grateful for Trixie. Anypony in their right mind wouldn’t abandon someone like you.

Yes, yes, ok. Oh, before Trixie forgets, she made you some breakfast. It’s some of the plant provisions. She scoots a plate forward that has a pile of freshly cooked plant carcass. You’ll need your strength to come back if you want that wound to heal.

Don’t give me that look, Trixie knows it smells strange. Try a bite. Trixie promises its safe.

She levitates a fork with some of the breakfast hanging off the end. Are you going to be this rude to the mare who saved your life?

Didn’t ask- Trixie saved you from that vicious plant, mends your wound, gives you shelter, and feeds you breakfast! Take a bite of the food, Rollando.

She stops the fork just centimeters away from the wheel. What did you just say?

Rollando, Trixie- She rests a hoof on the upper left of the rim which accidentally causes it to roll over to the other side.

F-fine. Trixie will keep saying Trixie. Trixie rests her hoof on the rim, getting it to flip back over once more. Will that make you happy?

Trixie is glad, she did not mean to do such a thing. Trixie supposes that when she told you she harvested that plant…

Trixie is glad you understand ponies eat plants. She understands how… strange that must be.

The wraps her hooves around the wheel. I know we’ve just met, Rollando, but you are the nicest person I have ever met.

“They stop here,” Triad said, looking down at the dirt road. Shortly following behind were his companions.

The rightmost pony kicked a hoof into the ground, raising a cloud of dust. “C’mon, it can’t just end, cease, terminate-.”

“Synonym, calm down,” he replied, nudging him in the shoulder. “Look over there.”

Synonym looked up and at first was greeted to the rising sun but his eyes soon caught wisps of smoke in the air that still held a discernible line from their origin. In the far distance were the tips of buildings and even closer was a caravan near a large boulder off of the road.

“See?” his friend rested a hoof on his shoulder, “I told you we’d find this guy. Looks like he’s awake though, we should do some recon behind that boulder, stay out of his line of sight.”

“Is this ruffian floraphobe working out?” Synonym whispered, moving closer to Triad.

“Floraphobe isn’t real,” he replied, a hidden but implied frown marking his face.

“Hey,” their leader whisper-shouted. “Can it you two. But,” he continued, quieting his voice further, “I think maybe he’s working out or something. And he sounds…”

They neared the rock and pressed up against it. The middle cloaked figure nodded. “Definitely a gal. Whatever workout she’s doing, it’s got to be a powerful set or something. She’s grunting up a storm.”

Triad looked around the side and then lurched back over behind cover, pulling his hood further down over his already unseen face. “She’s not training.”

You wonder if there was a serpent in her family as her slender tongue pushes harder against your rim. Her endurance is incredible, not losing lip-lock for even a moment, breathing heavily from her nose as she tries to absorb every last moment. Her eyes open for a second with a mischievous allure. Soft, angelic pecks run down your spoke as she nears your center. You try to shift, but her hooves hold you in place against the log. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to (which you don’t).

Rollando… Trixie wants something from you, more than anything else in the world. Her eyes drift down and then come back up, her eyes betraying that she was going to get it either way.

She pushes a hoof up against the rim. Shhh, don’t speak. Trixie knows. She’s ready…

Her mouth trails down to your center. She eyes it hungrily, her mouth practically begging for it with every panting breath. Without warning, her tongue rolls around your axel rod slot with unbridled enthusiasm.

“That’s something else,” Triad whispered, adjusting the collar on his cloak. He hid himself behind the stone and faced his companions. “What’s next, Flicker?” Synonym shared his attitude and turned to their leader.

He shook his head and rested it into a hoof. “Yeah, any of those. Then we rob her blind. She’s doing us a favor being so close to town. We should do the right thing and help her deliver her supplies.”

They all stood idly behind the rock for a brief period of time, exchanging unseen glances. After a series of shrugs, they all clambered up the boulder and got a view of their target.

Give it to Trixie! Give it to her! Her legs wrap around you as best as they can, forcing you up against her.

Ooooh… Oh Rollando… whatever you’re doing down there, don’t stop. Dooooon’t….

Her legs lose their grip a bit, rolling you slightly up against her soft folds.

She collapses while lying on her back, arms and legs sprawled out lazily. You fall on top of her gently and she wraps one hoof around you, bringing your rim to her face.

Ohh Rollando, that was… everything Trixie imagined it to be. And more. You certainly… had a lot more.

And so concludes part two.
As the final part rolls into place,
so shall another and shall complete the rotation from love to loss.
It is a natural part of the cycle,
And nobody knows the circle of romance better than…
Rollando!

Crack Shipping: Trixie and the wheel

by CosmicAfro

Part two: Rimming