A Blootert Barbarian
The remainder of the day, for all intents and purposes, went without incident. Anon brought Nord home, made her promise she wouldn’t leave or get into any trouble while he was at work, and got himself ready for his shift. He would have been more concerned about her, had not insisted she nod and stamp her hoof three times to affirm she’d do as she said. After changing and wolfing down a sandwich, he headed to the post office.
The hours he spent sorting incoming or outgoing mail were as tedious as ever, though he was able to keep himself occupied. Keeping a slip of scrap paper handy, he’d jot down questions for his guest and potential ideas for her employment. Even if they couldn’t find her a job, he felt sure that she could somehow make herself useful around the house. To be sure, she had to have some life skills - after all, she had survived long enough to find herself pickled and a cask of ancient hooch.
Before he knew it, he was headed back to his abode from yet another evening of mindless toil. As he grew steadily closer to his apartment, under the moon’s cool glow, his apprehension gradually got the better of him. If he was lucky, and he had no reason to suspect he would be, his guest wouldn’t have caused yet another debacle in his absence. Reaching his door, taking a breath to steady himself, he let himself inside.
By some merciful grace, everything was right where it should be. Nord snoozed loudly on the couch, with her head draped over one foreleg, and there wasn’t the slightest trace of ruination to be seen. It was a pleasant surprise, one which he honestly hadn’t expected, and it filled him with hope - that was, until he noticed a number of empty bottles strewn across the floor.
It didn’t take him long to figure out why the mammoth mare was passed out. For one reason or another, possibly out of boredom, she’d rooted around, found his liquor stash, and helped herself to his reserves of booze. It wasn’t like he drank much anyways, only having the odd drink here or there, but it looked like she’d wiped out every drop of alcohol in his home.
His contentment quickly transitioned into concern, when he realized just how much she’d had. No fewer than a half dozen bottles had been drained, easily enough to put someone into a coma. Even though she was significantly larger than the other ponies he’d met, he couldn’t help but worry for her. Crossing the room, he moved to her side and gently shook her shoulder.
“Nord? Hey, are you ok?” he asked, jostling her awake. She grouched something and rolled over, spurring him to shake her a bit harder. “I’m not mad, I promise, I just don’t want you to get sick.”
“Sic a braw jimmy,” she grumbled, peeking up at him. “Worrying aboot auld Òrd she's yer guidwife.”
Despite being as unintelligible as ever, the mare had a slight slur to her voice. As happy as he was to see that she wasn’t suffering the effects of alcohol poisoning, she was clearly pretty tanked. She smelled like hooch, her eyes were unfocussed, and she had a silly grin plastered on her snout. Just when he started to assume she was a tranquil drunk, her foreleg shot forward and wrapped around his neck.
“Howfur aboot ye gie yer wee guidwife a winch,” she giggled, hauling his face to her muzzle.
Dumbfounded, trapped in her iron grip, Anon was hauled into a sloppy kiss. Caught woefully off guard by the amorous advance, there was little he could do. Her large, muscular tongue pressed into his mouth, as she brazenly made out with him. As unexpected as it was, he couldn’t help but feel a shiver of excitement shoot up his spine.
It wasn’t until he felt one of her hind legs creeping up his outer thigh did he regain his composure and resist. Had the circumstances been more ideal, he may not have been opposed to such a sudden and passionate development; as things were, with Nord hammered off of at least six bottles of booze, he couldn’t bring himself to cave to sinful urges. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he attempted to free himself.
“Waant a bawherr o' a rammy, eh? Weel then, that suits me braw,” she purred, pulling away and licking her lips.
As the man went to ask her what she’d meant, if only to serve as a momentary distraction, she shifted beneath him. Ramming her head into his gut, she drove the wind from his lungs and sent him reeling. He wheezed, stumbling back, as she unsteadily rolled from the sofa and got to her hooves. Before he could get his bearings, she stepped over and flipped him onto her shoulder.
Coughing and hauling air into his lungs, as he was carried deeper into his apartment, Anon fitfully struggled. Although he wasn’t entirely sure where she was carrying him or what her intentions were, a cold pit formed in his stomach. Judging from her bold kiss and the lecherous tone in her voice, she seemed to only have one thing in mind.
Kicking out with a foreleg, splintering the door of his bedroom, Nord heaved him onto his mattress. Landing with a resounding POMF, he fearfully looked down at his chest at her. Backlit by the hallway lights, staggering as she entered, her arctic eyes never left his vulnerable frame.
“Ah hawp ye'r duin, fur - Hic - a'm gonnae mak' a jimmy oot o' ye,” she muttered. Steadily advancing on him, she stepped onto the bed and straddled him.
It was much, MUCH worse than he could have feared. There he was, supine on his bed, about to be despoiled by the largest mare he’d ever met. His pupils shrank to pinpricks, his heart thundered in his chest, and his slacks tented in a combination of abject fear and arousal. Had he had any way of knowing he’d face such a beast that night, he would have gleefully crashed at Twilight’s castle.
“Dinna fash yirsel, 'ol Òrd is aff tae tak' guid care o' ye,” she purred, leaning in and drawing her tongue up his neck.
“P...please...Be gentle,” he stuttered.
The mare simply chuckled for a second and locked eyes with him. “Na…”
And with that one word, Anon knew he was figuratively and literally fucked. His long-held interspecies v-card was about to get punched by a prehistoric pony he’d only just met. Steeling himself, as his excitement mingling with dread, it was all he could do to pray that his pelvis would survive the impending encounter.
Lowering herself on him, gently grinding her sublimely warm nethers over his groin, she slowed to a halt. Her ears swivelled towards the window, as did her head, when the blare of a train whistle in the distance drifted through the window. It wasn’t uncommon for locomotives to pass through town, delivering freight at night, yet she seemed utterly perplexed by the noise.
“Bloody monsters, aye trying tae ruin mah guid time,” she growled. Heaving herself up and crashing off the side of the bed, she falteringly got to her hooves.
Normally, Anon would have been thanking his lucky stars for being spared from such an ignoble fate, but there was a problem - Nord, as drunk as she was, had rearmed herself with her trusty and quite possibly mystical battle axe. He wasn’t sure where she kept the massive weapon stashed, or how she was able to produce it at the drop of a hat, yet those were petty concerns - no, his disquiet was due to her expression.
Though she’d been happy and carefree not but a minute prior, now she looked absolutely livid. Stomping away, content to leave him on the bed, she moved out of the room and towards the front of the apartment. For whatever reason, she almost looked like she was getting ready to storm into battle.
“Wait!” he pleaded, clamoring from the mattress.
There was a damn good chance that she was about to tear something or someone to pieces, especially since she’d mentioned ‘monsters’, which prompted him to intervene. Scrambling after her, seeing her charge through his front door, he did what he could to give chase. Her hulking build belied just how damn fast she was and, unfortunately, he was soon left in the dust.
Were it not for the shouts of distress and the sound of crashing hooves, he would have lost track of her. Though he suspected she was headed towards the train station, he wasn’t sure what she was intending. Trailing in her wake, only getting fleeting glimpses of her behind, he gradually lost more and more ground on her. As he careened around a corner and got his first good look at the train station, a piercing war-cry cut through the air.
Bellowing to the heavens, wielding her trusty axe, Nord rushed the locomotive’s side. Covering the distance between herself and the mechanical behemoth with startling speed, she tensed and leapt at the vehicle. The maneuver would have been difficult for a slender pony to pull off, let alone a massive mare like her, yet she managed it all the same. Heaving her weapon at the train, she spun and effectively drop-kicked the engine.
The hardened blade sank into one of the boilers, causing the leading car of the train to list heavily, but that wasn’t the final blow - no, a split second later, Nord herself impacted the locomotive like a meteor. Between her body-weight and the steam explosion, the vehicle groaned and toppled to its side. The entire situation was like something out of an action movie, with ponies running around screaming and small fires breaking out on and around the tracks.
Prying her weapon free, uneasily standing on the felled machine, Nord lifted her axe and let loose a triumphant roar - that was, before she lost her footing and went ass over teakettle. Anon simply stood and stared, watching the chaos unfold around him. An odd, almost preternatural peace settled over him, as he dug into his pocket, retrieved his list of ideas from earlier, and rummaged around for his pen. Holding the paper in one hand, he hastily scrawled one final line at the bottom of the little note.
Do NOT give her alcohol…
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It says the story is completele. Is that right, because I kinda want more of this?
This seems interesting. Upvote
wait, some_leech isn't writing porn?
does not compute
An accent so thick you can practically taste the haggis and Irn-Bru!
10538654
.
It happens from time to time. And it's perfectly natural to feel a crushing sense of unease and worry, as if some otherwise-immutable cosmic order was being violently wrenched about and distorted from its ordained course and shape
I love this so much!
10538643
I may do more with her eventually - that is, with AnonTheAnon's blessing
Neat looking art of that mare. She looks almost like the girl from 'Brave'.
...Why are the really big non-alicorn ponies always earth ponies?
10539062
Probably because they're horses
Or they're that big as a result of earth pony magic
Death by Snoo-Snoo. Obliterate that pelvis.
"You know what Jack Burton, would say in a time like this?"
10538937
Eventually?
EVENTUALLY!?!?!?!!!
WE NEED IT NOW
Blame goes for your writing skills being Amazing and the cover art of Nord of sweet chaos
ok, after rereading and finding no Rockhoof, imma repost my old comment i deleted(after i realized i only read one chapter)
sequel pls?
i need to see her and Rockhoof interacting
Wasn't there another story about actually horse-sized Scottish ponies? And anon was a plumber or something? I always wanted more of that, so this is a very welcome surprise.
10539470
Old Jack Burton says What the hell
10538654
2020 is full of surprises
I'm disappointed we only get a hint of them having sex.
A very enjoyable story you've crafted here. I do hope you are able to continue with it.
Wow! You fucking tease!
Good fun all the same. Would have liked some sex though.
10538643
no, you're not the only one wanting more
Random
10540088
well we need Anon to be still alive for the sequel
Is this complete? Cause its really, really good. And I'm loving it so far and I hope to see more.
Big flOof
Ah a, Big Trouble in Little Chinatown, name twist eh?
Oh boy! It's her!
10539062
similar to real horses
10540789
Little China not Chinatown even though it occurs in Chinatown lol
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10538643
For those of y'all wanting more, feel free to pester AnonTheAnon on twitter XD
Well, it was nice to know you...
Nord: "Hey! What do you mean with almost?!"
Didn't she literally came out of an cider barrel?
Good stsory!
I enjoyed reading it.
But I really expected Twilight and Rockhoof to show up any moment.
Also, the entire story I had to think of this comic:
10541880
Yes, yes it was
10541905
I hope Twilight shows up soon. Otherwise this whole thing is going to be a disaster of untold proportions.
I really want to see this happening in the story.
derpicdn.net/img/2016/12/17/1319399/large.png
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I really want you to write more.
Seriously, you've created a fascinating, hilarious, and compelling character.
Beating up a locomotive because you think it is an evil monster due to a drunk stupor is so creatively silly.
I really hope you write a sequel.
10543847
I'm not exactly sure.
The way Nord-ORD!-speaks makes me think of Middle English, which is the direct predecessor to the English we have today.
English is a....strange language.
It started out as this Old Germanic...thing. Then it absorbed Viking, (potentially Celtic), Latin words, and finally Norman French. Then the vowels shifted, and the basic English finally appeared around the 17th century.
10543609
I'ma just leave this here, and let your imagination run wild ho this actually looked like with Nord and the train
10543933
Nope.
Too graphic.
10543554
Why not a bit of both Old Scot and Middle English?
Straight BOSS
Feels unfinished.
Don't mind me fellas i'm just here to claim comment n°69
How has 'Ord gone this long without receiving a welcome to ponyville party
10545078
She's speaking Lowland Scots with a heavy accent and lots of slang.
Early Modern English, Shakespeare's English, with the original pronunciation . . . Mostly just sounds like rural farmers from England today. I showed a video of it to my girlfriend, who lives in England, and that was the first thing she said.
10544711
Yo any idea where I can get one of those blackjack?
Oh god. I'm starting to understand her. Good thing it ended where it did.
Wait . . . That's it?!
NOOOOOO!!!
We need more~
Seriously, story sitting in featured box even now.
The masses waiting for deliverance.
This seems interesting, I shall read this later.