The first thing that Rye Mash became aware of was the throbbing, pulsating, hammer blows inside of his own head. Each throb caused his whole body to tense, his muscles jerking and twitching as the excruciating pain had its way with him. As his body made feeble twitches and kicks, he became aware of other far more curious sensations, such as the fact that there were other ponies in the bed with him.
His stomach clenched at this realisation and he fought back a rising swell of nausea that threatened to overcome him. There was a smell in the air, something foul, and it did not help his nausea in the slightest. Parts of him felt dry, but crusty, while other parts of him felt quite slimey. The bed he was lying in was wet and as he squirmed, something squelched.
Opening his eyes was a terrible mistake and Rye regretted it right away. He squeezed his eyes shut, his eyes trying to make tears but he was far too dehydrated. Rye whimpered as stabbing pains coursed up and down the whole of his body. At this moment, he wanted to die.
He also wanted to know who was in the bed with him. He tried to recall what had happened last night. He had went out and had a nice dinner after the sun had gone down—he had a vague memory of fried potatoes and gravy. He had a very hazy memory of bringing back some wine and some whiskey, and that was it. There was nothing else, nothing at all, and Rye very much wanted to panic, but the throbbing inside of his head prevented him from doing anything at all.
Opening one eye, Rye peeped out, angled his head, and looked over to his left, where something heavy and solid was half draped over him and crushing him into the bed. He saw black, a black so black that it looked blue. Rye sighed. That would be Mousy. He could feel her deep, steady breathing, the feeling of her ribs against him, and her warm breath blowing against him. Whimpering, he closed his eye, already not liking this situation. He turned his head and opened his other eye, just enough to have a peek.
He saw a snow white muzzle sticking up on his right. A few strands of silvery blonde mane were plastered to the white muzzle, which was open and had an orange tongue sticking out. Rye Mash wanted to scream, but his own strong sense of self preservation prevented him from doing so. Such an act would surely cause his head to explode in a most violent fashion.
He needed to get out of the bed without disturbing his companions somehow. There was a piercing pain in his guts and he knew he needed something to drink. Rye would, without question, shoot a pony for a cold drink right about now. He smacked his lips as he thought about cold, cool, refreshing orange juice and how nice it would be going down his throat, slaking his thirst, making the painful dryness in his mouth go away.
As he wiggled, he felt Mousy rub up against him. She was straddling his leg, he could feel the moist heat of her feminine places pressing up against his thigh. She was slick, slimey even, and he could feel her sticking to his pelt. He had no idea what sort of disgusting puddle he was laying in, but he had sneaking suspicions as to what it might be. His skin crawled with revulsion. His whole body felt soaked and dried out at the same time. He was sweating, he could feel it, his mane was damp and plastered to his head.
Much to Rye’s mortification, he realised that Starjammer was also pressed up against him. He could feel something against his side. Rye Mash gritted his teeth. Starjammer felt as though he was about half mast or so, and Rye’s movement had caused parts of Starjammer’s anatomy to come to life.
“‘Ello, love,” Mousy said, her voice a dry, raspy whisper.
“What happened?” Rye asked, the sound of his own voice causing his head to ring like a bell. His whole body tensed and he felt his bowels clenching as he almost vomited.
“You don’t remember?” Mousy’s voice was squeaky and a bit shrill, much to Rye’s dismay.
“No.” Rye Mash closed his eyes and kept them squeezed shut. Perhaps he was dreaming and when he woke up, this nightmare would be over and everything would be okay again. “No, I don’t remember anything at all.”
“Hush, sleep now.” Starjammer mumbled out the words and then lapsed back into snoring as he wrapped a foreleg over Rye and Mousy.
“I need to get up, I’m gonna be sick!” Rye shouted in warning, which caused his head to explode with pain. It also caused both of his companions to wake up and fly out of the bed, giving him plenty of room.
Rye however, failed to get out of the bed. He fell over the side, stumbled, unable to get to his legs, hit the floor, smashing his snoot into the wood, and then puked as the pain became too much to bear. Seeing stars, Rye continued to barf up his own intestines, at least it sure felt that way, all over the floor as his companions watched in disgust.
Still damp, Rye Mash huddled on a cushion, fighting back waves of nausea. He had showered, which did nothing to make him feel better, but at least he was clean. Bloody Velvet had brought him a glass of orange juice, a cup of tea, and a few slices of dry toast on a saucer.
Mousy, sitting beside Rye, kept squirming, shifting her body around, her tail swishing from side to side. She had showered as well and upon exiting the washroom, had been spritzed with perfume by Bloody Velvet, who was trotting around and snickering.
Starjammer was sitting on a small sofa, looking very pleased with himself while nursing a cup of tea. He was quiet, smiling, and his eyes were focused upon Rye, who was little more than a miserable lump.
“My arse is sore,” Mousy muttered.
Fearful, Rye looked up, worried that he had something to do with that. “Why is your arse sore?” Rye’s words were little more than a whisper, he still didn’t know what had gone on, and something about how Bloody Velvet kept snickering filled him with dread.
“Where do we even begin?” Mousy blinked a few times, looked at Starjammer, then back at Rye. “Rye Mash, you buggered my arsehole.”
Shaking, Rye let out a gibbering, wordless whine as Bloody Velvet’s shrill laughter echoed through the room, spilling out of the galley. He closed his eyes and felt like throwing up again.
“It’s my fault, I told you to do it,” Mousy said.
“Why?” It was the only word that Rye could muster. It came out as little more than a gasp and Rye felt his stomach lurch. Trembling, he struggled to lift up his glass of orange juice. He needed something to wet his parched throat.
“Well, it looked like fun… you had just got done buggering Starjammer and he looked like he enjoyed it a great deal.” Mousy paused while Starjammer began laughing, a low, sophisticated sounding chuckle. “We were celebrating.”
“Celebrating?” Rye almost dropped his orange juice. “Celebrating what? Getting the job? Becoming privateers?”
“You really don’t remember, do you?” Mousy asked.
“No,” Rye shook his head, “I don’t.”
“Start from the beginning, Mousy,” Starjammer said to the earth pony, no longer laughing. “He deserves to know everything.”
Rye swallowed, now fearful. Starjammer no longer laughing made everything worse. Starjammer looked serious, solemn even, and even Bloody Velvet had gone silent. The room was filled with deafening silence. Rye could feel his heart thudding in his chest.
Mousy took a deep breath, looking at Rye, and a fearful expression crept over her face. “Well Rye, last night, you came back to the ship with gifts, wine and whiskey, which you and Starjammer shared. I had a bit of wine, but not much, just enough to make me giggly, but I wasn’t sloshed, not like you two. Starjammer had already been soused earlier in the day.”
Rubbing his head, Rye tried to remember. He had a hazy recollection of what Mousy was saying. He did come home with wine and whiskey.
“It was Oola that got you to dance, she also shared some of the whiskey, but not much. After your dance with her, you danced with me and you danced with Starjammer. Then you danced with both of us. After that, you finished off the whiskey.” Mousy scooted a little closer to Rye. “You told me how pretty I was.”
Groaning, Rye could not remember anything that Mousy was saying, but he could see that Starjammer was nodding. Bloody Velvet was now sitting on the sofa beside Starjammer, one eyelid was twitching, and her ear jumped up and down with every other twitch of her eyelid.
“We danced for a while longer, the three of us, and Starjammer said that you and I were a perfect couple… you agreed, Rye.” Mousy took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and then said, “You asked me to marry you.” The earth pony mare opened her eyes.
“What?” Rye gave Mousy a blank stare of horror.
“I said no,” Mousy replied, shaking her head. “I said it was the liquor talking and you got angry. You said that you were free to do as you pleased, that you were as free as the wind, and that you could do whatever you wanted. You said that you knew what you wanted and you wanted me and you would not take no for an answer. You threatened to shoot the moon out of the sky and to plunge the world into darkness. We all tried to tell you no, but you insisted, then you cried a bit, and you and I cuddled and talked for a while, and finally, it was Bloody Velvet that told me to give you what you wanted if that was what I wanted and we would sort everything out somehow, and so you and I left the ship and found a justice of the peace.”
“Oh shite and buggery,” Rye whispered, clutching at his stomach.
“That came later,” Starjammer said to Rye, still looking serious and solemn.
“When we came back, there was a bit of a celebration and I knew that you and Starjammer had a bit of a thing going on, and I didn’t want any hard feelings, so I suggested that we all go to bed together and you agreed… you thought it was a great idea. You wanted to be impulsive and try new things… went on a bit of rant actually and we had to shut you up.” Reaching up, Mousy brushed her mane out of her face and then looked Rye in the eye.
“How drunk was I?” Rye asked.
“Oh, drunk enough to feel free from any and all inhibition. You said that you never felt more free in your whole life and that you were going to stop being a prick. You wanted to have a bit of fun and you wanted to be free,” Bloody Velvet replied.
“You were laughing and happy, which is why we went along with what you wanted,” Mousy said. The earth pony smiled, a soft gentle smile. “As for the reason why I have a sore arsehole… Starjammer and I took you to bed and you shagged me. It was the first time for both of us. He helped us get the most out of it. But you didn’t bugger me arsehole the first time we did it, that came later.”
“Later?” Rye shook his head, still remembering nothing.
“Well, when you were still all wet and slick from having your way with me, you grabbed Starjammer and made him your mare… I watched… and I must confess, I enjoyed myself quite a bit… it was steamy. I didn’t know how I felt about that sort of thing when we started, but watching you two go at it, watching Starjammer get the shudders as you buggered him, I had myself a case of the shivers myself.”
Rye Mash closed his eyes and tried to not throw up his orange juice all over the floor.
“I wanted to know what it felt like, Starjammer seemed to be enjoying it, he sounded just like a mare when you pinned him down on his belly and started licking his ear.” Mousy took a deep breath, licked her lips, and watched as Rye Mash opened his eyes.
“So, I asked you to give me a good buggering, and you did.” Mousy’s tail twitched. “And that is why I have a sore arse and the bed is a sopping mess. You shagged both of us, Rye Mash.”
For the second time that morning, Rye Mash puked all over the floor.