The Titans' Orb: Rising Storm

by Mister Horncastle

Chapter Ten: New Year, New Me

---

The following day was a terribly strange one; the reason being that Bunnie learned the truth about my quest, along with the company of otherworldly visitors I had sworn to defend. It had been an awfully difficult conversation to have without sounding utterly insane, but over an hour’s worth of logical explanation, I had been able to convince her that I wasn’t an absolute lunatic.

From the fact the police had declared me dead at the scene of my murder, to the shocking case of my body disappearing from the morgue, Bunnie realised that there were too many bizarre factors at play for me to be lying about this. She then considered my violent interrogation the other day, and the oddly specific comments I had made, such as the claim that my real boss was a unicorn named Twilight Sparkle.

“So, when you said your nickname was ‘the human’, you were actually being serious?” she huffed in disbelief.

“Yup.” I confirmed, “Let’s just say that Twilight isn’t exactly my biggest fan. We’ve pretty much been at each other’s throats since day one.”

Shaking her head, she could barely take me seriously, and who in their right mind would? Even if she came to believe me, the sheer absurdity of such a tale was enough to leave anyone dumbstruck.

“Callie, you’re talking about My Little Pony characters. If it was aliens I’d be sold, but I just… can’t comprehend this. Like, I believe you, but I don’t believe what you’re saying, if that makes sense?”

“It does, and for the record, I wouldn’t believe me either.” I admitted, “Honestly, I don’t expect you to think I’m telling the truth. This is the kind of shit you need to see to believe, and even then, it’s baffling.”

{You do realise all the evidence you need is sitting on the bedside table?} said Conscio.

Glancing over to it, it dawned on me that he was right. Since the flight to Brazil, I had taken a handful of photos on what was now the Sparklight. Reaching over and picking it up, I warned Bunnie that what she was about to see would blow her mind.

“You did that already when you kissed me.” she scoffed.

“Uh, you kissed me.” I pointed out.

“You kissed me back.”

“Can you blame me?”

Rolling her eyes, Bunnie gave me a little shove and then focused on my phone. Opening up my gallery, I went back to June, and tapped on the very first picture I had ever taken. It had been of the girls in the aeroplane’s cargo hold. I hadn’t been able to sleep, and was listening to music with my earbuds in, and upon seeing the girls collectively napping and nattering amongst themselves, I had taken a sneaky little photo to capture the moment. Bunnie’s eyes widened upon seeing them, and they widened further as I swiped to the screen to the left. The next picture had been in Brazil, where I had taken a few selfies with Fluttershy, Rarity, and Rainbow Dash, on the night I had let them listen to human music.

“Oh… my… god.” said Bunnie.

“Told you.” I replied, smirking at her.

Going through all the other photos, I showed her all there was to see, all the way up until the selfie I had taken with Twilight shortly after the Sparklight’s creation.

“She looks pissed.” Bunnie pointed out.

“As I said, not my biggest fan.” I explained with a grimace.

She asked why, to which I simply explained that it was complicated, and was a story for another day, once there was more alcohol in my system. With a laugh, she said she would hold me to that. Still utterly bewildered, Bunnie kept flicking through the photos until the truth was finally able to sink in. This was when she came to the same realisation I had experienced last night.

“Does this mean… after you help us escape… you’re leaving me?”

With a nervous gulp, I was unable to look her in the eye. This answered her question, and with an outward breath, she lunged forward and clung to me.

“But… Callie!”

“I have to, Bunnie.” I told her, “I was chosen for this, and I can’t let them down. They need me.”

“But… I need you.” she whimpered, burying her head into my neck.

Sighing heavily, I held her close and told her what Conscio had told me last night, that after my quest was over, I would come straight back to her. I would come to Burgess Hill and knock on every door if I had to, and if she would still have me by then, I would be forever hers.

“Of course I’d still have you!” she wept, “I love you!”

She then froze, and so did I. This was the first ‘I love you’ that had been said aloud between us, and as my eyes started to water, I stared at her with my mouth agape.

“Bunnie…”

“I love you,” she repeated, furrowing her brow, “and if you don’t come back, I will hunt you down, and I will force pumpkin-spiced lattes down your throat until you beg me for mercy!”

“That was such a weird fucking thing to say.” I sniffled, shaking my head.

“I know, but I’ll do it anyway!”

Now equal parts crying and laughing, we pressed our lips against each other’s and exchanged one very emotional kiss. This time, the awareness of our limited time together was mutually known, and all it did was fuel our need for one another. The crying stopped, and the kiss deepened, becoming ravenous, and untamed. She moaned and hummed with ardour, and then with little warning, her tongue emerged and brushed against my lower lip; it was an invitation. Taking heed of the tentative hint, I boldly permitted my own tongue to come forward and greet her, which she accepted without hesitation. Panting through her nose, she enveloped my tongue with hers, wrestling it for dominance as she gradually pushed it back to whence it came. We danced like this for some time, and I began to feel light-headed in the best way possible.

I had never imagined that I would kiss someone like this, and for all the salacious fantasies my mind had conjured over the years, I remained wholly unprepared for how it would really feel, and how truly amazing it was. Truth be told, it was quite intimidating, but as I relinquished all thought and allowed my instincts to guide me, it quickly came as naturally to me as it did to take breath into my lungs. The same seemed to be the case for Bunnie, and before long, the two of us yearned for more.

One of her hands started to slide down my chest and towards my belly, but before it could descend any further, we were interrupted by a light rapping at the door. Springing away, the girl shot into the en suite like a jackrabbit, while I let out a most exasperated sigh.

“Who is it?” I called out in a sing-songy voice.

“It’s Dijla.”

Bunnie quickly re-emerged from the bathroom and opened the door, completely foregoing the discourtesy of our moment’s interruption to take glee in seeing her mother again. Almost immediately, the woman could tell what had been going on, simply by gauging from our flustered expressions and cherry-red faces.

“I see you two are… getting along?” she hinted, raising an eyebrow.

Bunnie’s face grew even redder, while I gave a sheepish grin. Seeing the mutuality in the situation, Dijla commented no further, and delivered not only my midday meal, but also, a message.

“One of Paulo’s guards gave me this.” she explained, digging a paper slip from her bosom, “He said it was for your eyes only.”

“Ooh, that’ll be from Maxim.” I muttered, taking it from her.

Opening it up and skimming through it, I was right. The message was from Hoyt’s mole, confirming that the Blood Family were willing to receive me. I was to find a way to escape Paulo’s confinement and head to a certain location in the early hours of Saturday morning, on the second of January.

“Joyous, I’ll have exactly a week to take down the Blood Family and get back to you.” I said to Bunnie.

“Only a week?” she inquired, “How come?”

“Well, I could take longer, but then I wouldn’t get to see you on my birthday.”

At that, Bunnie gasped.

“It’s your birthday soon!?”

Nodding, I clarified that I had been born on the ninth of January. In just a little under a fortnight, I would be turning eighteen, and had I been legally alive, I would officially be an adult. Dijla then very sweetly told me that even now, I was already more of a man than any other in this dreadful place.

“Oh stop it, you’ll make me blush.” I scoffed.

“You were blushing before.” she said bluntly.

Anxiously clearing my throat, I shrugged off the comment and thanked her for bringing me Maxim’s message. Dipping her head, she gave Bunnie another tight hug and then left us with the food she had brought. I went to close the door, which was when she beckoned me for one last word.

“I trust you with my daughter, but if you break her heart, I will make sure there is a piece of you in every country on this planet, do you understand me?”

“Perfectly.” I replied in earnest, remaining as calm as humanly possible.

“Good.”

Smiling warmly, she could tell I was being genuine, and with another dip of her head, she turned around and walked away. Closing the door and locking it again, I faced Bunnie and gulped.

“Well, looks like this is permanent then.”

Craning her neck, she asked what I was talking about, to which I explained with a laugh about what her mother had just said to me. She too, broke into laughter, and with the mood gone, we tucked into the food and then had a nap together.

---

The next two days were blissful ones, and although Bunnie and I never went all the way, there had certainly been some heavy petting, to say the least. My hands had found themselves in places I had never expected them to be, and I learned in a very small space of time that everything I thought I knew, was laughably incorrect. Quite amusingly, I had ended up being far more nervous than her, to the point where we had agreed to keep the lights off. We ended up preferring it this way, for there was a tantalising sense of impish delight in our sightless endeavours. Even after the embarrassing jitters were out of the way, we continued to explore one another’s bodies in the comfort of darkness, relying not on sight, but rather by touch, and scent… and taste.

It was now the evening of the thirty-first, and the end of the year was nigh. I wanted to spend every second of it with Bunnie, but with all the reluctance in the world, I was expected elsewhere. With Bunnie promising to remain here and wait for me, I set off to join Paulo for a celebratory feast to welcome in the new year.

Pushing open the door, I entered the dining room and spotted him at the table, and upon seeing me, he leapt to his feet and strode towards me.

“Bruce, my dear boy!” he cried out, planting his hands on my shoulders, “You are looking well. Come, sit!”

Guiding me to the table, he asked me how I was feeling as we sat down together. Though I made no remark as to why, I told him that I was feeling right as rain. Pleased to hear it, the man demanded the food and drink be brought out immediately, now that his ‘dear boy’ had arrived. The staff that were present went away, and shortly thereafter, they returned with a most glorious banquet unlike any I had ever seen. My nose was almost overpowered by the smell, and my mouth salivated so heavily that I nearly started to drool. The Christmas leftovers looked like table scraps by comparison, with the dining room table being blanketed from end to end with meats, vegetables, sauces, cheeses, gravies, and so much more.

“This is all for us?” I murmured, gobsmacked.

“Ha! I admire your ambition!” Paulo laughed, “If you’re telling me you can consume all of this, then by God, let no man stop you!”

He then went on to explain that he would often dine with his guards during such a meal, but until this business with Maxim was over and done with, he had sent them away, stating that he wished to dine alone. As for the food before us, we were simply to have the first pickings, and anything we didn’t eat would be given to Paulo’s men later on.

“Fair enough.” I replied, “Oh, and speaking of Maxim, I’ve received word.”

He tilted his head, to which I explained that I had officially been invited into the Blood Family, and would be smuggled there in two days’ time. Clapping his hands, he didn’t even ask how I had received such news, his sole interest lay with the end result in his rival faction’s destruction.

Dishing up some food and pouring himself a glass of wine, he asked what the plan was as far as earning their trust went. This was when once again, Conscio made known his penchant for battle plans. With a degree of arrogance, he formed a course of action in less time than it had taken me to pour my wine. Repeating his every word, I essentially allowed him to use me like a mouthpiece, relaying his stratagem.

“Well, they’ll need to know I have reliable information to prove I’m betraying you. Perhaps we could organise a sale of product, knowing full-well that I would then leak the info to the Blood Family? Let them attack, and steal from you one last time. That way they’ll trust me, and then I can slip into their ranks without a hitch.”

Puckering his lips, Paulo slowly nodded his head, pondering on the idea. Though he was clearly apprehensive to throw away perfectly good product, he knew that it would be worth it in the end.

“Very well.” he grunted, “I will have a sale arranged for some time next week. You will tell the Blood Family about it, and worm your way into their beds.”

“Where I’ll slit their throats while they’re sleeping.” I added.

With a satisfied huff, Paulo tucked in, and I did the same. I served myself a portion of everything on offer, and after a quick sip of wine, I picked up my knife and fork and took my first bite. The flavours flooded my mouth and brought forth a satisfied hum, though in truth, it had been more of a suppressed moan of ecstasy. In spite of the food Dijla had brought to me over the past two days, none of it compared to this; it truly was the meal of all meals.

For a few moments, there was absolute silence, save for the sounds of our chewing and swallowing, and the occasional scrape of our cutlery as it skewered and sliced the mouth-watering sustenance upon our plates. The young servant by the kitchen door looked on, waiting patiently for his next command, and with a pang of regret, it pained me to imagine what he saw.

To this boy, surely no older than myself, the scene before him was not unlike The Feast, a contemporary piece by the lesser-known artist David DeFigueredo, for at the banquet table sat a pair of bloodthirsty pigs in fine clothing. There was an old pig, and a young pig, both of whom shovelled their mouths with food that might as well be flesh, and guzzled their gullets with wine that might as well be blood. Meanwhile, the world around them swelled with pain and suffering at the behest of an infernal machine.

The contrivance in question was of the old pig’s design, wherein narcotics were made, lives were ended, and people were bought and sold like cattle. In the old pig’s prison, the innocent were freezing to death and starving in the cold, while beneath our feet on the manor’s ground floor, women were chained to the walls, beaten, bruised, and defiled. The machine had made playthings of them, warm pockets for ravenous dogs to mount at their leisure, with nary so much as a hint of remorse. This place was a factory of nightmares, and yet, as the young pig witnessed such horrors, he did not tremble. Instead, like the deplorable swine he was, he would sit here and feast with the older hog, wholly uncaring to the suffering his elder had created.

To the servant boy, I was more of a beast than a man, and until I could close Paulo’s eyes and leave this place forever, a beast I would remain, a willing participant to the machine’s injustice. Beckoning the boy over to me, I ordered him to fetch me more wine, and without so much as a word, he obeyed. Paulo huffed with amusement, impressed by the gall I had to command his staff without permission.

“So, my daughter…” he grunted with his mouth full of food, “I suppose you have broken her in now?”

The suddenness of such a question almost had me inhaling my half-chewed morsel, and remaining composed to the best of my ability, I confirmed that I had not. Furrowing his brow, he asked why that was.

“She is yours now, after all.” he rumbled on, “You may do as you please with her. Or did you merely wish to keep her as your trophy, hm? Perhaps to spite those who wanted her before you, eh?”

The servant returned with the wine before I could reply, and as I took the bottle from him, I gave him a look as if to say that I would sooner be in his position than my own. The scorn in his eyes softened, though it never left completely. Clearing my throat, I answered Paulo by reminding him that Bunnie had taken a liking to me, and as such, I wished to nurture her, with the long-term goal of developing a bond not unlike Stockholm syndrome. That way, she would want to be my slave.

“When it comes down to it, I want to know she’s enjoying herself.” I told him, “You and your men can do as you please, but personally, I prefer to work for my meal.”

“Huh, so you’ll kill without mercy, but a woman’s virtue is sacred to you?” he sneered as if to challenge me.

Clenching my fist under the table, I was disgusted by the mockery in his tone, and angry too for that matter. Between his treatment of Dijla, and the very foundation of his cartel, he alone was responsible for the rape of countless women, and he didn’t even care. Bunnie was his own daughter, of whom he wanted a relationship with, and yet here he was, perplexed as to why I hadn’t yet forced myself upon her.

If Bunnie did wish to go all the way with me, it would be on her terms, and hers alone. And since we were on the subject, I was admittedly quite terrified of the whole ordeal. Being a virgin, I wanted my first time to be perfect, without so much as a hint of regret. Keeping my cool, I looked Paulo dead in the eye and met his challenge with one of my own.

“You told me that a true human follows his own code, well mine is simple. Kill your enemies, and love your woman.”

Taken aback slightly, Paulo’s gaze shifted to one side, thinking on what I had said. And then, narrowing his eyes, Paulo raised his lips into a weak smile, respecting my stance in spite of his own.

“Besides,” I went on, “I’m hardly father material. Don’t want to knock the girl up just yet.”

I felt sick to my core for saying that part, but I wanted to ensure that Paulo didn’t doubt my place as a hardened criminal. Scoffing loudly, he took the sentiment as a valid concern, before putting such a worry to rest.

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. The girl is infertile.”

Almost inhaling my drink this time, I looked at him with wide eyes. Chuckling at my expression, he explained that just two months ago, Bunnie had undergone a tubal ligation, severing her fallopian tubes. Before I could even begin to ask why, he went on, with a smug expression painted on his face.

“When she failed to show her allegiance, and I planned to make her a slave girl, I knew every man in my business would pay a pretty penny for a turn with her. Pregnant whores are less profitable, and disposing of their newborns is… squalid work. Trust me, I know this.”

“Oh, I believe you.” I replied calmly.

Beyond his vile implications for Bunnie, Paulo had just openly admitted to the killing of babies, and it was there and then that I decided to kill the man slowly when the time arrived; morality be damned, he deserved to suffer. With my appetite now thoroughly spoiled, I was glad to have already eaten my fill, and in a silent declaration that I was finished, I pushed my plate away from me. Paulo did the same, though he announced his sufficiency in a far more audible manner, which manifested in the form of a loud belch. He then offered me dessert, which, after stifling a burp of my own, I respectfully declined, not wishing to overeat.

The conversation then very thankfully moved on, with Paulo at last returning to the looming subject of Brazil. After necking half a glass of wine, he demanded to know what had happened at Inigo’s compound, and how his dear old friend had come to die.

“I had come to see him not long before it happened.” he croaked, casting his mind back, “He had invited me to see his new pets, those bizarre little talking horses. Did you ever see them?”

“I did.” I murmured, trying desperately to mask my surprise, “Fascinating creatures.”

“I thought so as well.” Paulo agreed, “Although, they didn’t talk very much, only the white one spoke with me. Oh, but I do recall the blue one, with all the colours in her hair. That one had completely given up the will to live, you would have thought it was already dead!”

“Well that tends to happen when you rip all her feathers out.” I said sternly.

Catching myself, I covered for my hostility by explaining that the rainbow-haired pegasus had injured me during her initial capture. To my relief, Paulo bought the explanation, murmuring with understanding.

“Inigo said they came with a boy as well. Young and white, like you.”

“Yes, I remember.” I hummed, “Callum, I believe he was called.”

My hands began to shake under the table, and as Paulo inquired further about the boy, I did what I could to distance myself from my true identity. Inspired by Conscio’s accent, I told him that Callum was a Scottish lad, and was, much to Inigo’s annoyance, not very talkative.

“We tortured him for hours, but he never told us a damn thing.” I elaborated, “Tenacious lad, I’ll give him that.”

Shrugging, Paulo asked what happened next, to which I delved into my most heroic tale. With my appetite returning, I drank more wine as I told him about how Callum had rallied the prisoners in the Stock Heap, and when the guards were at their fewest, they struck.

“It was a full-blown bloody riot.” I explained, “They outnumbered us five to one at least, and with every man they killed, they stole our guns and killed us faster, it was chaos. They were like a wave, Paulo, all unified under the promise of freedom. I’ll be honest with you, we were fucked from the second they broke out of that warehouse. It doesn’t matter how many you kill in a fight like that. Once there’s hope, they don’t stop.”

Pouting his lips, Paulo inhaled deeply through his nose, before releasing the breath in the form of a pensive, aggravated sigh.

“I told Inigo his Stock Heap was a foolish idea. Of all the things he taught me in running my cartel, adequate prisoner containment was the one thing I wished he would have learned from me. If only he had listened to me, he would still be alive.”

“Inigo never listened to anyone, Paulo, you know that.” I reassured him in false comfort, “He was a great man, but he wasn’t a great listener.”

Slowly shaking his head with dismay, Paulo knew I was right, and thanked me for my recollection of the event. Drinking more wine, he proceeded to ask what part I had played in the riot, and how I had survived. Choosing to have a little fun with it, I spun the story, explaining that I had been ordered to guard the talking ponies, only to be ambushed by their tenacious little companion.

“I can only assume he entered through one of the back doors, or perhaps a window.” I grumbled, “Either way, he came in from behind and put his arm around my neck, and try as I might, I couldn’t shake him off. Bastard choked me out, and when I woke up, the ponies were gone, and Inigo was dead.”

“And Vladimir?” asked Paulo.

“Also dead.” I confirmed.

Swallowing, I looked down and said that with my boss murdered and my home destroyed, I fled to the jungle, and waited for the conflict to pass. A few days later, I returned to the compound in search of survivors, of which there were none.

“There was still food and water, so I stayed there.” I muttered, “Then you and your Militia came along, so I joined up with your boys and came back with you.”

Biting his lower lip, Paulo was clearly trying to remember me, and I feared that after all this scheming, he might recognise me as the boy who attacked him in the boathouse. Thankfully, he ended up shrugging, and professed to his memory being a little hazy around this time.

“You must understand, Inigo was the only friend I ever had.” he explained, “I was very… emotional at the time. If we spoke to each other back then, I am afraid I do not remember.”

“It was only brief.” I told him, goading the lie, “I asked if I could join you, and you told me to help the others with the clean-up. Back then, you didn’t seem to care that I was one of Inigo’s boys.”

“As I said, I was very emotional.” he replied, “The only thing I recall is getting very drunk, and hitting my head in the boathouse. But still, if I recruited you that day, I will take your word for it.”

{So that’s why you don’t remember me!} I exclaimed in thought, {You were absolutely plastered!}

Paulo then drowned his woe with the rest of his wine, and by now, he was bordering on drunk, and I too for that matter, was feeling quite the buzz. We had consumed four bottles between us, and if not for the food in my belly, I would have been a lot worse off. Paulo then sniffed loudly, and with tears in his eyes, he lamented the loss of his only friend. He then commended my bravery in the riot, and told me I had earned not just his respect, but his compassion.

“This is your home now, Bruce,” he breathed, “and so long as you succeed in destroying the Blood Family for me, you will become more to me than what Vladimir was to Inigo. You will not be my loyal dog, you will be like a son to me.”

Pretending to him that I was touched, I thanked him with sincerity, and said it would be my honour.

“I suppose it is only appropriate,” he added, rolling his eyes, “given that my daughter is your woman now.”

“Ha… I suppose so.” I agreed nervously.

“You are a similar age, are you not?” he pondered aloud, “I never did ask.”

“We are.” I said, dipping my chin, “I’ll be eighteen in just a few days, as a matter of fact. I turn on the ninth of January.”

“Is that so?” he gasped, “Then my boy, we must celebrate!”

Chuckling, I told him I would aim to return from the Blood Family in time, but if I happened to miss the occasion, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. Our conversation was then interrupted by the grandfather clock at one end of the room, as it started loudly ticking and whirring, followed by a weighty clang as its bell rang out, signifying the coming of midnight.

The new year was upon us, and as Two-Thousand-and-Fifteen slipped into memory, Paulo and I raised our glasses and drank to a new dawn. And then, after a few jests and revelries, the man brought an end to our evening. He got to his feet and I did the same, followed by him staggering over to me and cupping my face with his hands.

“My dear boy, I am so glad you are here.”

“Me too.” I replied, “Here’s to the new year.”

Grinning, he let me go and patted me on the shoulder, expressing his fondness for me. He then sent me away, insisting that I should get more rest prior to my undertaking with the Blood Family. I didn’t need telling twice, and as Paulo staggered off to his quarters, I returned to my own.

Approaching the door, I cleared my throat and made my presence known.

“Bunnie, it’s me.”

Opening the door, I made my way inside only to find Bunnie not there. My eyes widened with fear, but before I could start panicking, I heard her call to me from the en suite.

“I’ll be just a moment!”

There then came a loud slosh, and I realised that she must have been in the bath. Taking off my shoes and sitting on the bed, I waited patiently as she dried herself off.

“Did you have a good time?” she asked, unlocking the bathroom door.

“Yeah it was quite nice actually.” I admitted, “Obviously the company was rather questionable, but the food was lovely, and the wine was, uh…”

Trailing off, my breath escaped me as Bunnie stepped out from the en suite without a hint of clothing. This was the first time I had truly seen her naked, and my eyes became like saucers as I took in her bare form, now clean as the morning dew. Her sheet-white skin bore a gleam like polished marble, and as she stood there on full display like the work of art she was, I finished my sentence, though I no longer referred to the wine.

“… delicious.”

With a sheepish, albeit sultry little smirk, Bunnie stepped towards me, and it took every ounce of my focus to fix my eyes upon her own, for they yearned desperately to stray southward. As my mouth ran dry, I told her that she was beautiful, and her cheeks became that of a red sky at night, wherein shepherds and sailors alike would rejoice the omen’s promise of fair weather.

But it would not be sailors and shepherds to rejoice tonight.
And fair weather was not all that dwelled on the horizon.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Bunnie replied, raising her chin.

My cheeks became as red as her own, and with a gulp, I realised what was about to happen. She hadn’t taken a bath just to have a nice soak; she had been readying herself for me.

“I think I might be a little overdressed.” I murmured.

{You think?} Connie piped up, {Ooh-woo! Check out that bulge!}

{Oh for God’s sake, Conscio!} I thought back to him, {Can you please fuck off for tonight!?}

Trying my best to ignore him, I focused on Bunnie as her mouth widened into a grin, wholeheartedly in agreement with me. Taking both of my hands, she helped me to my feet, and starting with my shirt she unburdened me. My breath shook as each layer was removed, and my skin seemed to ripple with shivers, like waves upon a shoreline. Sensing my trepidation, Bunnie steadied me with a kiss, and like an anchor, my quivering form found its centre. She then licked her lips and closed her eyes, savouring the hint of wine that now danced upon her tongue, and then she eased me down onto the bed, laying down beside me. She rested a finger on my chest, and traced along the scar Inigo had given me, once again captivated by its size.

{Well, it’s not like she has anything else’s size to be captivated by.}

{Okay seriously, Conscio, fuck off!} I growled in thought, {Besides, I’m actually quite well-endowed, thank you very much.}

{Alright fine, I’ll concede to that.}

{Thank you. Now can you please leave me alone? Look, I get that everything’s a game to you, but I will never get this moment again, so I’m asking you please, don’t ruin this for me.}

At that, the voice respected the importance of tonight, and kindly fell silent, allowing himself to sink away into the recesses of my mind. I was now free to focus on Bunnie again, and not a moment too soon.

“Are you okay?” she asked, “Is this too much?”

“Not at all.” I assured her, “I’m just… I’ve never… I don’t want to get it… wrong.”

“Callie…” she breathed, smiling at me.

No further words needed to be said, for as I searched her dilated, golden-brown eyes, I found her wordlessly telling me everything I needed to know. She then reached forward and took my hand, and in an act of guided permission, she lay it upon her breast. Her skin was still warm from the bath, and was soft like cotton. Confidence brewed within me, and as her perfect body relaxed into my loving touch, the rest of me soon followed. Pressing up against her, I kissed her passionately, and though the only sound between us came in the forms of diminutive hums and stifled moans, our hearts screamed out in unison with a clamorous poetic proclamation.

Take me, oh sweet lover, take me I say!
Let me tell you with my flesh that I love who you are.

Take me, kindred spirit, take me, I pray!
Let me kiss you with my soul so you know I’m not far.

Give me your heart, and I’ll give you my own.
Give me your love, lest I may turn to stone.

Take what is mine for it is safer with you.
Take my whole self and make one of this two.

Such desperate cries were impossible to ignore, and as we twisted and turned against our touches, Bunnie found herself on top of me, gazing upon my face with hungering eyes. We both wanted this, needed it even, and yet she hesitated, waiting at the point of no return for me to issue one last notion of consent, which with a gentle nod and a trembling moan, I gave to her.

“I love you, Bunnie… so much.”

That was all she needed to hear, and with a slow outward gasp, she proceeded. Savouring every blissful second, she gradually lowered herself down at an almost-unbearable rate, until there was a sensation like nothing I could have fathomed, and as our bodies became one, I loosed a bachelor’s dying breath with one final request.

“Oh, Bunnie… Make me yours!”

And thus, she did.

---

Comments

[Titan Commander Sebaste]

Damn, that ending really was rather poetic! XD

[PonyJoe1]

Well THIS was a chapter and a half...
From Bunnie learning about the Mane Six (which wasn't at all a thing in the OG), to the first "I love you", to the whole bit with the servant and the pigs, to Paulo straight up being a fucking BABY KILLER!!!

And then that ending...
Goddamn that was sensual, and as Sebaste put it, POETIC!

Love-love-LOVE this chapter!

[Twanklight Borkle]

Gotta break character for this one.
(I know, crazy right? 😮)

Why, I hear you ask?
Simple.

That part about the pigs was genuine art of the highest degree.

Turning a small-time artist's piece, made from stock images, into a deep gritty story of retch-worthy brutality has, without question, been the finest piece of writing across the entirety of this series, and I honestly wish you could receive payment for it as a published snippet of free-form work. It's the one time I've regretted this being a fanfic instead of an independent work, because paragraphs like that deserve to be sold in libraries.

This Twanky one has been left astonished, and he commends you in earnest. 🏆

Now then, back to the bit.

The Amnesia: A Machine for Pigs is not friend. 🐷