Chapter 32
Anxiety and anticipation made for a dreadful combination that left Copperquick with the jitters and his head felt light. Buttermilk had plans, he had desires, and the two of these things were set to collide. It wasn’t like other times, other encounters; no, this had so much more riding on it. This felt more like signing an agreement, committing to a deal, something about this seemed an awful lot like binding. After this, nothing would ever be the same.
Arousal and terror made for strange bedfellows.
Making everything worse was the weirdness with Butter Fudge; this was her house, her home, this was being done with her knowledge, and Buttermilk’s mother was still willing to foalsit even after the blowout, which only made things feel even weirder, driving it into the territory of being rather unpleasant. There was tension there—real tension—and it was made worse by the fact that Buttermilk and Butter Fudge seemed to be pretending that everything was wonderful.
Esmeralda sat with her face in the breeze, her eyes half-closed, and her ears limp. She looked wise somehow, in that strange way that foals sometimes had. It was pretty obvious that she needed a nap, but the little filly steadfastly refused to give in and she watched the world around her, her little head turning now and then to focus upon something interesting. It was almost as if she had woken up this morning smarter, or with a better-developed brain.
Something about the way his daughter sat watching the world around her reminded Copperquick of her mother, Cielo del Este. A pegasus, she too sat still for extended periods, just watching everything around her. It made her appear mysterious and deep, and was one of the things that Copperquick found attractive about her. Too bad that Cielo had the depth of a teaspoon—but he had high hopes for his daughter. Surely his daughter would turn out better if he worked hard and did all of the right things.
Sitting behind Esmeralda, Buttermilk wrapped her wings around the foal and covered her eyes. Copperquick heard a befuddled whimper of distress—a heart-wrenching sound if ever there was one—and he leaned in closer for the big reveal. Buttermilk was giving him a look and somehow the use of her wings in family-friendly fun left him excited in weird ways.
“Where did Esme go?” Copperquick said with exaggerated enunciation of his words. “I cannot seem to find my Esme. Where did she go?”
“Here she is!” Buttermilk cried as she pulled her wings away.
More than anything, Esmeralda seemed relieved and after a few blinks, she glared up at her father, upset that he had disappeared. Peekaboo was a confusing, sometimes frustrating experience for Esmeralda, a game that she sometimes played and had fun with, but other times had a meltdown over. Today, more than anything, she just seemed annoyed by the vanishing and the sudden reappearance of her father.
With a secretive smirk, Buttermilk moved her wings and obscured Esmeralda’s view once more. The tiny filly let out an exasperated sigh and there was something indeed amusing about his daughter’s frustration. Did this make him a bad parent, Copperquick wondered. Just beyond Buttermilk’s feathers, the little earth pony filly made adorable sounds of distress.
“Nyah!” she whined, expressing her displeasure about this confusing set of circumstances that had befallen her.
“Esme’s gone.” Copperquick glanced around, and then looked Buttermilk right in the eye. “Have you seen Esme? Little? Short? Goes by Esmeralda?”
And with that, Buttermilk once more pulled away her wings. “Here she is!”
Pressing his front hooves against his cheeks, Copperquick’s mouth made a large round ‘O’ of surprise while he looked down, and he saw his daughter looking up at him, somehow looking grumpier than ever. In a truly foalish expression of upset, the little filly blew a mighty raspberry and Copperquick knew it was time for the game to end. Esmeralda appeared to be at the end of her patience and was looking around with wide, expectant eyes.
Copperquick changed tactics; scooting himself closer on the kitchen floor, he gave Buttermilk’s space a thorough invading and almost smooshed Esmeralda between then. Buttermilk scooped the filly up before she could be sandwiched and Copperquick pulled the little pegasus closer to him. Esmeralda wiggled against Buttermilk’s chest and neck, while making happy burbles of excitement about this development.
This was, after all, Esmeralda’s favourite thing—getting affection and lots of it. During moments like these, the little filly was at her happiest, when he and Buttermilk were close. He looked down, Buttermilk looked up, and Esmeralda squirmed between them, no doubt wondering what might happen next.
“Kissy?” Esmeralda’s eyes were shimmering, expectant pools of excitement that darted back and forth between the two ponies holding her.
She wanted kissy? Well, kissy she would have. With his eyes, Copperquick tried to indicate his plan to Buttermilk, glancing down while puckering his lips. When he saw a nod, he went for it—he ducked his head down, puckered up even more, and pressed his lips against his daughter’s head, just below her ear, all while Buttermilk did the same. Esmeralda was smooched from both sides, which seemed to overload her senses. She shook, she trembled, her ears waggled, and she let out a joyful squeal.
When the kiss was over, the filly closed her eyes and settled against Buttermilk’s neck.
“I think she’s worn out,” Buttermilk said to Copperquick. “She also really enjoyed that, I think. Mrs. Velvet would be pleased to see her warming up to affection and having a good, healthy, positive response.”
Slipping one foreleg around the smaller pegasus maid, Copperquick had mischief on his mind when he pulled her closer to him. Balanced on his haunches, he pulled Buttermilk as close as equinely possible, until they both sat belly to belly on the floor. For a moment—for the briefest second—Buttermilk’s breathing ceased, and when she did breathe again, she shuddered while she shivered.
“I… really should take Esme to the potty before she gets too sleepy.” There was the faintest tremour to Buttermilk’s words and while she spoke she pressed herself up against Copperquick. “Our time is coming… just you and I… Copper… I’m really enjoying these moments leading up to it. I want today to be special and tomorrow, tomorrow you’re going to win that derby, because I can’t imagine that there is a faster pony than you.”
Leaning his head down, Copperquick only had one thing to say, but it was something that couldn’t be expressed with words…
Feeling timid, Buttermilk approached her Moomy, who was scrubbing and sanitising her workspace. This was the way of things, pretending that nothing was wrong, that nothing had happened, this is how things had always been, and no doubt always would be. Butter Fudge was scrubbing an open vat with hoof-held brush and the whole of her body shook with effort.
“Oi, plan to do the deed with Copper?”
Startled, Buttermilk didn’t expect this as an opener and she was taken off-guard by the bold question. Her mother was good at that—she had always been good at that—and now Buttermilk felt foalish. Butter Fudge was the wise, all-knowing mare, and Buttermilk was the naive foal that knew very little. Feelings like this made it quite difficult to approach her mother and she hesitated, uncertain if this was worth it.
“There’s a few things you should know before you seal the deal, Beezy.”
Buttermilk waited, knowing that her mother would go on, acknowledged or not. How truthful her mother would be remained to be seen, or relevant for that matter. For all Buttermilk knew, her Moomy might be preparing to dump a great deal more garbage and mental clutter into her brain box, all of which would need to be sorted out later. Or maybe this would be reverse psychology, subtle manipulations that she had a hard time resisting.
“There’s a few things that you need to know about earth ponies, Beezy.”
Oh, she thought to herself, this would be one of those sorts of talks. Buttermilk prepared herself, knowing that her mother would pepper the facts with outrageous stereotypes, outright falsehoods, and opinions posed as facts. For a moment, she thought about backing out, leaving her mother’s workshop, and avoiding this mess entirely. But, for whatever reason, her legs wouldn’t budge and she found herself rooted to the spot.
“Oi, first off… there’s no two ways about it. Earth ponies are sex fiends. Even if we’re trying to be polite and act like we have interests in doing other things… we want to shag. If we say that we’d love to cuddle, that really means we want to shag. We don’t want hugs and kisses, no, we want shagging. While supper and dancing is nice and all, all of that can be skipped and we’re fine with getting right down to the shagging. Even if we’re trying to be nice, and we tell you that we’re having a lovely time and that there is no rush to do anything… there is actually a big rush to do something, and that something is shagging.”
Hearing this, Buttermilk held her breath and wondered if this was even remotely true.
“Right now, at this very minute, while I am scrubbing crusted bits of whey out of this vat, I’m thinking about shagging. I’m thinking about your father’s face wedged into my old garden row. All of my thoughts are perverted and while I love your father very, very much, and as much as I like doing fun things with him, what I like the most is shagging… there’s going to be some angry shagging later when he and I sort things out, and that’s a good shag, let me tell you.”
A fat droplet of sweat rolled down the back of Buttermilk’s neck.
“On anniversaries, special occasions, and birthdays, I don’t need gifts, or special nights out, or any of that useless dreck. No, I need shagging. Everything else is rubbish, absolute rubbish. I’ll bloody guarantee you that Copper’ll be the same way. While doing something nice is pleasant and all, scratching that itch of his’ll be a whole lot nicer.”
Now, Buttermilk’s wingpits felt damp and she felt a rising panic welling up inside.
“There’s also the physicality of it all,” Butter Fudge continued while she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, which made her whole body jiggle. “I’m a bit worried about that, so I am. I’ll be completely honest, Beezy, it scares me a bit. Might be a bit much for your first time—”
“Moomy… I…”
“Oi, listen to your Moomy… please.” Butter Fudge stopped scrubbing, kicked off the scrub brush from her hoof, then turned about to look Buttermilk in the eye. “Earth pony stallions aren’t like pegasus ponies or unicorn ponies. For one, they’re hung, and two, they’re made to breed. That’s what we do, Beezy. We don’t have magic horns or wings, our magic is tucked right between our legs.”
Face turning redder and redder, Buttermilk stood in silence, wishing that her mother hadn’t turned around, because it was hard to look her in the eye.
“Earth pony stallions take a lot to satisfy, Beezy. Oh, they can go gentle and slow, don’t get me wrong… and this is why they make good lovers and are desired as mates. If you set a slow pace and keep the excitement to a minimum, they can go for hours. The blessing is also a curse, Beezy. With minimum stimulation, they can’t climax, but they will get frustrated. For them to get off, they have to get vigourous and go hard and furious—”
“Are you trying to say that Copper is going to hurt me?” Buttermilk demanded.
“No, Beezy… and that’s just the problem,” Butter Fudge replied. “Copper is the gentle, passive sort. If you go at it slow and soft, he’s never going to get off. And rather than hurt you, he’ll back off unsatisfied, I think. He strikes me as that type. But if he’s going to get his rocks off, he’s going to have to get a little rough and go hard if he’s going to work out his frustrations.”
A cold prickle crawled down Buttermilk’s spine and she had the dreadful, awful terror of suspecting that her mother was right, that she was telling the truth.
“Working out the frustrations is the hardest part, Beezy. In general, blowjobs just don’t work—”
At the mention of the word ‘blowjob’ Buttermilk’s face ignited.
“—because they don’t provide the sort of heavy stimulation required. A mare’ll break her jaw and run out of wind before she finishes that job. Sometimes, a clever mare can use her fetlocks, but this takes a whole lot of endurance, just like churning butter does. A mare might go at it for hours and wear her legs out with no results. In general, the best thing that can be done is to grit your teeth, bear down, and let a stallion have a go at you, unfettered. Even then, it might take a while, depending on how pent up he is, and you’re no earth pony, Beezy, but a pegasus, and a little tiny one at that. This… this is why I worry.”
Overwhelmed, Buttermilk had no idea how to respond.
Blinking, she broke the connection between her and her mother and turned away in search of something—anything—that could be looked at, but nothing stood out as a distraction. Panic gripped her as she thought about her claustrophobic responses to Copperquick bearing down on her—the weight of him on her body—and this panic threatened to turn to outright terror.
“Last night, when I was all by myself and angry, it occured to me that Midgy turned out to be a damn fine husband and even better father—”
Some of Buttermilk’s terror fled and she asked, “What made you think that, Moomy?”
Butter Fudge, interrupted, stood there, and she seemed to be thinking. When her nostrils flared for a moment, it appeared as though she had something to say, but her words escaped as a hefty snort. She smiled for a moment, a warm, affectionate smile that made her ears rise, and a far-away look could be seen in her eyes.
“Copperquick is an awful lot like Midgy, Beezy. If you sat down and had yourself a good think about it, you’d see it plain as day. Gentle, soft-spoken, affectionate… a good sort. I guess… I guess that maybe I didn’t see it, which is an awful thing to say, and I feel bad for it. I was trying to piece together what you saw in Copper… trying to understand why you fell for him, and when I was by myself last night, I was able to sort it out. You fell in love with a stallion that is a lot like your Daddums—which meant that he did something right. He did right by you, Beezy, and the proof is with Copperquick.”
This felt like truth, which was exactly why Buttermilk was immediately suspicious of it.
Shuffling a bit on her hooves, Butter Fudge turned around, retrieved her brush, slid it over her hoof, and resumed scrubbing the dirty vat while Buttermilk stood in silence, not knowing how to take her mother’s words. She wished that she trusted her mother, and a part of her still did, she supposed, but everything her mother said would forever be cast in a shadow of doubt. This… this felt so reasonable that it was hard to believe that it wasn’t a clever ruse.
Nothing would—or could—ever be the same between them.
“Beezy…”
Buttermilk’s ears pricked when she heard the pain in her mother’s voice and suspicious or not, she was sensitive to her Moomy’s suffering.
“Beezy… my Beezy little bumblebee… your grandfather… my father… the one I never talk much about even though I’ll talk your ear off about your gran…” Butter Fudge’s words were slow, halting, and she seemed to be having great difficulty in saying them. “He was a cheater. It’s part of why I left home, though ‘twasn’t the only reason… but I couldn’t face what he did.”
“Moomy?”
The scrubbing stopped and all of Butter Fudge drooped. “Mum was tired all the time. There were a lot of us and only one of her. Dad was on her back every chance he got, didn’t matter if she was tired, or worn out, or sore, or had just given birth… he was on her, he was in her, and as I grew older, I realised just how rough he was on her. I’d get upset and cry about it, and my Mum… she gave me the talk… she gave all of us fillies the talk, about how important it was to grin and bear it. Dad was a big stout earth pony, and he had needs. He had a powerful drive.”
Now, Buttermilk was chewing on her lip.
“One day, Mum snapped. He had jumped her, as he was wont to do, and she let out this… awful wail. The whole house just echoed with it. She bucked him off, she kicked him, she bit him, and they fought something awful. After that fight, the house went quiet and stayed quiet. Dad spent more and more time at the pub, drinking with money we didn’t have to spend. And the house stayed quiet. No more did we hear the sounds of Dad huffing and puffing and grunting away. And that silence was awful, let me tell you.”
It was with awful dread that Buttermilk realised that her Moomy was pouring her heart out.
“I had a best friend,” Butter Fudge continued. “She was a summer older than me. We’d been best mates since the day we met. She was a baker and I was a milkmaid. It was one of those friendships that would have lasted into adulthood no doubt… we might’ve even gone into business together.”
Without realising she was doing so, Buttermilk backed away from her mother.
“One day, Dad jumped her, and it was awful. Constables got involved. There was a trial. It wasn’t so much the fact that he jumped her, because that kind of thing happened all the time and nopony cared, but it was the ferocity of the assault and the resulting injuries that caused the upset. My Dad said she was flirting with him, leading him on in the way that young maids do, and he explained to the court what was happening at home.”
When Buttermilk backed into a table, she let out a stifled, startled yelp.
“In the end, the court decided that my friend Daisy Belle had brought this on herself, but my Mum was also blamed. If she had been doing her spousal duties, Dad might not have been so pent up and frustrated. The whole damn town turned against my Mum. Shamed her. Shut her out. When Daisy Belle started getting fat, the magistrate signed an order saying that my Dad had to marry her and do the right thing. Everypony saw this as a good thing, and my Dad, the victim in all of this, he would get a young wife that could look after his needs, and Daisy Belle learned a lesson that she shouldn’t be flirty.”
“Moomy, I—”
Butter Fudge ploughed on, oblivious. “Daisy was just like the rest of us… taught to respect her elders, be polite, and do as she was told. She never flirted with my Dad… I don’t believe a word of that. I knew her, Beezy. She was quiet… submissive. We all were. We didn’t dare raise our heads or say no about anything. I couldn’t bear to watch all of this go down, so I left home the first chance I got.”
Tail and ears drooping, Butter Fudge resumed scrubbing and the brush bristles made a soft rustle against the steel sides of the vat. In shock, Buttermilk stared at her mother’s bobbing backside, stunned by her new awareness. So many things now made an awful amount of sense. One by one, the pieces fell into place—even ones with Ripple Rusher—and Buttermilk had a perfect, terrible understanding of her Moomy’s motivations. Even the talk about earth ponies now made sense in a most terrible sort of way.
“Oi, Copper’ll be a good mate for you, Beezy. I believe that. I want to believe that he’ll stay loyal and true, without a wandering eye, but I have a real hard time with that. I want to believe it though. You be grateful for him, Beezy… you be grateful and thankful that he’s not a total shitestain on the plot furrow of equinity. Do whatever you think it takes to keep him, because he’s worth it. I’ve got a good sense about him, same as I do about Midgy. I’ll be done here in a bit, and I’ll be glad to look after Esmeralda. Do me a favour, Beezy?”
“Sure, Moomy, anything.”
“I need a little time alone, if that’s alright.”
She wanted to stay, but Buttermilk respected her mother’s wishes. “Okay, Moomy.”
“Thanks, Beezy. I’ll keep Esmeralda busy so you and Copper will have the time you need.”
“Right, Moomy.” Flicking her tail, Buttermilk turned to go.
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Oh sweet Luna. Terrify the poor mare before her first time, why don't you?
Some brilliant insight into what makes Butter Fudge tick
That does raise a question. If an earth pony's needs are that strong, to the point it's practically their principle function as a living being, what is socially acceptable for them to do when those needs aren't being met? With humans we can talk things out, exercise more self control, help take off pressures to free up stress to get into the mood, discuss why things are the way they are and what can be done to make them better.
But from this, and of course this is through Fudge's filter, but if it's anything like what she said given the legal ruling of their community, would our level of sexual self-restraint be something like unjust and inhumane torture to them? If they've bound themselves to a mate who's only feeling froggy once a week or month, but their needs are physically demanding intercourse perhaps more than once a day, what-
Oh. Herds. The answer is herds. Herpderp, Dimmet.
Damn. I would hope that times have changed enough in their world that rape would be rape and not an easy way into a new marriage with a young wife. Fact is that there was a time in this world that this exact sort of thing happened. Shoot, even now a days a if an older guy knocks up a girl some fathers say it's fine as long as they marry them. Doesn't even matter what the girl says.
8858472
Um... this is common in the south.
It isn't pedophilia if you marry her, and the courts can force an underage girl to marry if her parents cooperate. Google it.
8858548
Lived there for years.
https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2018/03/10/forced-marry-her-rapist-11-woman-finally-changes-florida-marriage-law/413284002/
You were saying?
http://www.tampabay.com/florida-politics/buzz/2018/02/01/raped-at-8-forced-to-wed-at-11-this-woman-wants-to-ban-child-marriage-in-florida/
https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/4756732/child-brides-usa-marriage-forced-zimbabwe/
http://www.dailytarheel.com/article/2017/09/nc-laws-lead-to-higher-than-average-child-marriage-rates
https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/frontline/article/married-young-the-fight-over-child-marriage-in-america/
https://www.npr.org/sections/goatsandsoda/2017/08/30/547072368/a-look-at-the-loopholes-that-allow-child-marriage-in-the-u-s
https://www.washingtonpost.com/posteverything/wp/2017/02/10/why-does-the-united-states-still-let-12-year-old-girls-get-married/?utm_term=.ba6349b7d240
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Child_marriage_in_the_United_States
8858481
The way its worded sounds very much like he raped her. In fact it seemed to be worded in a way to make it difficult to determine if it was consensual or rape. If its consensual and they got married then fine. If he raped her and they forced her to marry him it's disgusting. It's also something that does happen in many places. Just because it's accepted doesn't make it ok. Women have equal rights in this country, unless they can be convinced otherwise. By a parent or an authority figure. If your dad says "You made a baby with this man and you will marry him or else" you often cave. On the other hand, I don't think you said the age of the mare involved so my opinion on this matter does float dependant on that fact. My mind had her set pretty young, but that could be incorrect.
8858481
oh and I didnt call him a pedophile, I called him a rapist. I was zeroing in on if she had consented to the sex or not.
8858607
I left it ambiguous on purpose.
I didn't necessarily want Butter Fudge's behaviour to be justified, but understandable. I dug into a lot of real-world stuff for inspiration.
Well that story, certainly explains a good part or Butter Fudges worldview.
But something seems out of place.
If earthponies have such strong needs, that it is a given that husbands will cheat, what about the wives?
Surely they have the same needs
8859443
Out of place or misrepresented?
8858567
That is nothing compared to what happens in Islamic countries.
8859801
You know, I heard this so much in the south that I want to throw up now when somebody says it.
As if this makes it better. It doesn't. Whenever shit like this is said, it takes away from the victims that exist here, in this place, who exist in a life of pain that you can't even imagine. This kind of dismissive dialogue is a major contributor as to why this stuff keeps happening. Somehow, mentioning the word Islam and hand-waving somehow make this all better.
Religious extremism is a worldwide problem that exists everywhere and it is just as bad here is the US as it is anywhere else.
8859965
"You shouldn't complain about being stabbed because elsewhere in the world there are people who get stabbed twice."
It is a pretty shit argument, indeed.
8859965
It's not extremism, it's one of the foundations of the religion of Islam. Mohamed married a six year old girl and had sex with her when she turned nine.
8860680
And the Christian God had physical sex with Mary when she was a child.
As far as I'm concerned, it's all fucked up and gross. All of it.
Dang. Now that explains a few things about Butter Fudge's previously expressed opinions on marriage and how to handle a husband.
8860680
Here is what you sounds like to everyone who can use their god damn brain. "Child marriage and Rape in the US is ok because it is so much worse in the middle east."
8861275
Right now in the U.K. there are Muslim rape gangs prostituting girls as young as 12. What Kudzuhaiku is yaking about is wrong, but it is a VERY rare occurrence in the U.S. At least in this country young girls are not forced to be circumcised.
8862075
Yeah only three quarter of the male newborns...
I know that the typical FGM is quite worse than the typical male circumcision but it’s STILL a completely useless practice done without the consent of the person involved.
The problem with the Florida law is that it is the kind of law you would expect in a backwater third world country dominated by religious fundamentalist... oh wait...
8862075
And, right, <citation needed> on the gangs prostituting twelve years old
8866195
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/crime/grooming-gangs-asian-muslim-across-country-uk-girls-children-women-bradford-rotherham-newcastle-a7987381.html
https://www.independent.co.uk/news/uk/crime/london-grooming-gang-new-exposed-found-police-warning-children-abuse-girls-uk-newham-stratford-a8099346.html
8866641
8866195
To be fair, that happens here.
In our churches. In Sunday school, where we groom kids for a lifetime of sexual inequality. It isn't a problem unique to Muslims, or the UK.
8866661
The articals are about muslim men having sex with, and pimping out, underage girls. NOT teaching them about sexual inequality.
8859465
Actually, I would say "off-balance." We certainly have a mare's POV on Earth stallion sexuality, but not quite the other way. Though if the trial mentioned is any indication, it's along the lines of "They always want it."
Finally caught up with this story, and been enjoying it so far.
As far for this chapter I greatly enjoy Buttermilk's mum talking about how she always in the mood for sex, I found it hilarous.
And then the reason why she hard on Butter and her idea about society and stuff. And it was pretty much I expected ever since she made her comment about Butter's friend, all because she fear being shunned by the same society she put herself, especially seeing her mother defending herself from her abusive father. And following her friend being rape by Fudge's dad and force to marry him to aviod being shamed by society.
People and communities conform to such actions really makes me mad.
I just Beezy don't fall in the same mindset as her mother.
Damn...that was a load. FUCK.
... I haven't looked at the comments yet, but I’m expecting a lot of “How could that happen?” “It happens in real life dude.” Right now. And that’s fucked up. Oh well. Awareness is always half of the issue.
Looked at the comments. Yup. Called it. *le sigh*
Alright. It’s fucked up guys. It isn’t isolated. It isn’t rare. It isn’t unique to certain ethnicities or religions. This shit happens a lot, all over the world, in the “perfect” United States as well.
By saying “others have it worse”, you make the problem bigger. By saying “it can’t happen in today’s world” problem gets bigger. By saying “it happens but only rarely” problem = more size.
By saying “that’s fucking messed up, I need to talk about this and make sure people know this is a god damn problem that we as people can fix.” That’s what makes things get better. Something the weedverse is willing to point out. Hell, something it does in and of itself. One of the reasons I love it so.
Sorry if this put’s anyone off, I just needed to say it without reigniting old arguments.