> Sweet Suprise > by Kiro > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Sweet Suprise > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It had to be a prank. Some fun game the popular ponies were playing with Stitch'n'Time as the victim. He'd laugh, of course, when they reached the punchline. He always laughed. It was that, or cry. When other ponies got pranked, their friends would gather around and laugh with them. They'd throw their hooves round each others necks and laugh, slap each other on the back and say 'Good one!'. It wasn't like that for Stitch'n'Time. When he got pranked, everypony stood and laughed, circled round him at a distance. He'd never quite figured out why. Oh how he envied the popular ponies! The beautiful mares with their shining manes, tossing their heads carelessly while swapping secrets and stories with their bosom buddies. The pegasi that soared above it all, showing off their daring moves and aerobic beauty. The unicorns with their magical skills, the world bending around them. But more than the rest, he envied the stallions. There was a group of them in the village, bigger than the other local stallions, stronger, more muscular. When they galloped into the village centre, the ground shook beneath the force of their hooves. With careless grace they would lounge against a fence, watching the world go by. Everypony would watch them, subtly or otherwise. How could you not? Their youthful energy and pride was magnetic. And the favourite game of the stallions? Playing pranks. It was simple, harmless fun. Tie a ponies tail to her chair while she wasn't looking, sneak hot sauce on top of the cupcakes, fill the sugar shaker with salt. Nothing harmful, at least not lastingly so. So this was a prank, then. Just another game. Stitch'n'Time would wait here, just like the note said, for his surprise. The evening was warm, at least, but it was growing darker. Stitch'n'Time tried to convince himself he wasn't scarred. The popular stallions wouldn't be scared, even if they were all alone in the empty glade as the sun went down. Quartz Drift wouldn't be scared. Of all the stallions Stitch'n'Time envied, Quartz Drift was always forefront in his mind. He wasn't the strongest stallion, nor the tallest, or the loudest, but he had a quiet confidence that radiated from him. There never seemed to be a situation Quartz Drift wasn't at ease in. Maybe it was something to do with his talent, finding precious stones in the murkiest chunks of shale. Maybe some of the stillness and beauty of the prized stones he was drawn to had transferred to him? Or maybe it was just his nature, to remain aloof. There was no sense of silliness in Quartz Drift, he rarely got involved in the childish pranks of the others. If the joke was a particularly good one, they might get a slight chuckle out of him, but no more. It really was dark now. Stitch'n'Time couldn't lie to himself much longer. The note had said to be here at sundown, and the sun was well and truly down. He braced himself, the popular ponies would jump out of the shadows any moment now, squealing with merriment at his distress. What was that rustling in the bushes behind him? It must be them! Why didn't they jump out? Why didn't they shout 'surprise!'? They must be able to see how scared he was, this was going beyond a game! Stitch'n'Times breath was coming faster, his heart starting to race as he jumped around to see what was behind him. The bushes were draped in darkness, anything could be hidden there! But then, another sound? He twirled around, his bright white tail catching the moonlight as it trailed behind him. 'Who's there?' he squealed, his voice failing him. There was no reply from the darkness. He could feel his haunches rise, his tail curling down around his slender legs. His pale turquoise eyes widened with fear. 'Please...' it was barely more than a whimper. Still, they didn't jump out. The glade, a beautiful clear area in the woodland south of the village, remained empty. In daylight it was a picnic spot for ponies, or somewhere to play games with friends. At night, it was terrifying. The tall trees loomed above, the dense bushes providing plenty of hiding spots below. Where were the ponies? What fun was a prank without an audience? Unless they were expecting Stitch'n'Time to stay out all night? Well, he wasn't going to do that! 'I'm leaving now' he managed to say in a much more normal sounding voice, as he turned to try and find the path back to the village. 'Don't.' It wasn't a question, or a suggestion. There was no doubt in the voice, no concept of not being obeyed. Stitch'n'Time stopped, frozen mid-step. That wasn't a pranksters shout, that was... that was Quartz Drift! 'Did you send me the note?' Stitch'n'Time asked, shyness adding a shiver to the words despite the warm evening air. He turned, trying to spot Quartz Drift in the darkness. There was grunt of confirmation from the gloom as Quartz Drift stepped into the glade. His misty blue coat picked up the moon light with a dull sheen, his movements causing ripples as his powerful muscles moved beneath the surface. All Stitch'n'Time could do was stare at him as he paced around, picking at the smooth grass with his hooves. What was going on? Quartz Drift didn't get directly involved with silly pony pranks! He was far too cool for that kind of thing. Nor did he talk to the likes of Stitch'n'Time, unless he was ordering some alterations to an outfit. Stitch'n'Time couldn't remember them ever having a social conversation, or even ever being alone. Quartz Drift always had at least one of the other popular stallions with him. Except for now. Now, they were completely alone. They could shout at the top of their voices and only just be heard in the village. They'd probably be mistaken for wild animals busy in the woods! Neither of them seemed to have voices to raise. Stitch'n'Time could barely bring himself to look at Quartz Drift, while Quartz seemed happy to kick at a lump in the grass. 'I really like your cutie mark' Stitch'n'Time had been searching for something to say, the vapid compliment tumbled out so fast it was barely understandable. He regretted it instantly, as Quartz Drifts head snapped up and his eyes fixed on Stitch'n'Times. 'I mean, it looks really... good! Like claws, or like... good...' Stitch'n'Times desperate attempts at conversation only seemed to be making things worse. Quartz Drift lowered his head, the light picking out shades of violet in his indigo mane. He kept it long, on any other stallion it would have looked effeminate, not on Quartz Drift. His cutie mark helped, nothing cute about it. Three diagonal shards of quartz, angular and sharp. They looked vicious enough by day, by night the sight of them was making Stitch'n'Time very worried. 'I should... I should head back' Stitch’s legs were heading back already, edging away from Quartz Drifts forceful glare. 'You don't like mares.' Again, there was no question in Quartz Drifts voice. It was a statement, a truth. Stitch'n'Time still felt the need to say something, anything to fill the strange, angry silence 'I do like mares! I like mares just as much as any stallion! Mares are fine, just fine...' 'You're no stallion.' Quartz stood up straight now, his powerful forelegs stretched taut, his chest muscles tight. 'I.. I..' Stitch'n'Time couldn't find his voice, couldn't seem to do much at all. His legs had stopped moving, his heart thumped in his chest. His wide eyes sparkled with tears only just held back. Quartz Drift started pacing again, circling around Stitch'n'Time. His long mane pooled down across his grey blue coat, like a swathe of satin. Stitch'n'Times mind was racing, he couldn't focus on what was happening or why, but his thoughts kept circling back to that mane, to what it might feel like against his skin. How did Quartz know? Stitch hadn't told anyone since he moved to the village. Not because he was ashamed of liking other stallions, it was the way he liked them. The things he liked them to do to him. But Quartz couldn't know that! 'Stallions mount mares. They don't get mounted. How many mares have you mounted, Stitch'n'Time?' Quartz spat the name, like an insult, like a hoof in the face. He was behind Stitch'n'Time now, Stitch could feel his warm breath against his haunches. Quartz laughed. A gruff, sinister snigger more genuine than any chuckle the pony pranksters had elicited from him. 'You are no stallion.' Stitch'n'Time could barely hold back the tears now, he dared not blink in case that sent them over the edge. If this was a prank, it was a very mean one. How could any pony be so cruel? Suddenly, Quartz Drifts teeth dug into Stitches sensitive ear, dragging his head down to the ground before placing one of his strong, solid hooves firmly over Stitches white mane, pinning him in place. Stitches legs flailed wildly as he tried to remain standing with his head down. 'And if you're not a stallion, what are you?' Stitch gave up on trying to stop the tears, they poured down his cheeks. His heart pounded, he couldn't get a grasp on the situation, on what to do. Quartz was behind him, he couldn't see him, couldn't read him, what did he want? 'I don't know!' Stitch'n'Time squealed. That laugh again, but gentler now, somehow. Quartz lowered his head, brought his mouth down to Stitch'n'Times ear. 'You're whatever I want you to be. My little nothing pony.' Quartz Drift stepped back, releasing Stitch'n'Times mane. It took Stitch a moment to realise, his mind didn't seem to be working properly. He was scared, so scared, but something else was creeping in with the fear. Excitement. ‎'What are you?' Those eyes, those deep, dark eyes, fixed on Stitch'n'Time. They memorized him, drew him in. He didn't care about the tears now, he was past tears. Stitch'n'Time couldn't find his voice, couldn't put his thoughts into words. Couldn't think! Quartz Drift moved back, still holding Stitch'n'Times eyes with his. Now Stitch'n'Time was even more confused, more nervous. He could feel himself, feel his erection growing harder the longer Quartz stared at him like that. Desperately he hoped that Quartz Drift wouldn't walk around him, wouldn't glance down and see how embarrassingly aroused he was! Quartz Drifts eyes narrowed. 'What are you, Stitch'n'Time?' Anger had entered his voice now, but still, he held Stitch'n'Time with his eyes. Slowly, he backed up, until the shadows of the trees outlined him. The darkness contrasted with the pale blue grey of his underside as he reared, forelegs cantering against the night air. The flesh of his stomach was pulled taut by his erection, the moonlight catching a glimmer of pre cum on his engorged head. His hooves caused puffs of dust as he landed back down on the smooth grass of the glade. Muscles surged beneath his coat as he stepped forward again, every movement slow and deliberate. 'What are you?' The words came easily now. They didn't require thought, didn't require anything; 'I'm a nothing pony' It did feel like silk, Quartz Drifts mane, as it slid across Stitch'n'Times neck. Slowly, gently, Quartz Drift nuzzled into him. The words were a whisper, a caress; 'Good pony' No more caressing, Quartz Drift was behind Stitch'n'Time. He surged up onto his hind legs again, positioning his penis against Stitch'n'Times arse. Slowly, so slowly, he circled his head around Stitch'n'Times anus. Stitch'n'Time could feel the slick wetness of his pre cum, feel the hard warmth of him pressing inward, slowly, so slowly. 'Please....' Stitch'n'Time didn't even know what he was asking for, didn't know what it was he wanted, he just wanted. His whole being flooded with sheer want. His cock throbbed beneath him, almost painfully hard against his belly; 'Please Quartz Drift!' Quartz Drift paid no attention, he had his own agenda. Slowly, calmly, his pressed the tip of his penis inside Stitch'n'Time, then just as slowly and calmly removed it. Again, he repeated the motion, then again. Stitch'n'Time felt himself opening up, yearning for Quartz to push himself deeper inside. Impatiently, he thrust his hindquarters back against Quartz Drift. 'None of that!' spat Quartz, slamming his heavy hooves down onto Stitch'n'Times shoulders. Stitch'n'Time felt his forelegs give way, he collapsed down, his head pushed against the cool grass of the glade. His hindquarters were still upright, his arse thrust wantonly upward. Stitch'n'Time didn't care, didn't care about anything any more but this want, this need, to have Quartz Drift deep inside him. Again, slowly, Quartz dipped into Stitch'n'Times arse. Again, and again, until Stitch'n'Time thought he would go wild. Then, just as it was becoming truly unbearable, Quartz slid the length of his cock into Stitch'n'Time. Stitch'n'Time had never felt so wonderfully, so contentedly, full. It felt so very right, wonderfully so. He felt his whole body relax, welcoming this new sensation. Quartz Drift continued to move, gently, inside him, letting him adjust, and enjoy. But not for long. Stitch'n'Times hips had started moving of their own accord, grinding his hindquarters back against Quartz Drift. The sensations deep inside Stitch'n'Time threatened to send him over the edge, but Quartz was clearly not going to allow that. He threw the weight of himself into the next thrust, drawing himself almost fully out then thundering back down. Stitch'n'Time fell to the ground, his hind legs crushed painfully beneath him. Quartz Drift didn't seem to care, ignored the whimpers of pain, and pleasure, that escaped from Stitch'n'Time. Again, he thrust, viciously, almost angrily. There was no regard for Stitch'n'Time now, no regard for anything but his own fierce pleasure. Stitch'n'Times hard cock was pinned underneath him, trapped between the cool grass and his heaving underside. He could feel every tiny movement as the force of Quartz Drift behind him forced him down on it. Pre cum smeared across his belly, across the grass he was lying on. The tears were back, he could feel them rolling down his nose. Quartz Drift brought down one of his hooves, pinning Stitch'n'Times mane back down to the ground. 'What are you?' the words were panted out, almost desperately. Stitch'n'Time could hear the depth of feeling in his voice. For a second, a thought managed to drift to the surface of his muddled mind, Quartz Drift! Lost in ecstasy over him, Stitch'n'Time! 'I'm a nothing pony' he replied, wanting to please, wanting it not to be over, wanting it to be over, wanting, so wanting... 'Whose are you?' even in that moment, that hectic, terrifyingly erotic moment, Stitch'n'Time could recognise the importance in those words, in that question. The answer would change everything, for both of them. 'I'm yours. I'm your nothing pony Quartz Drift!' A deep, wonderful whinny of delight echoed around the glade as Quartz Drift delighted in the response. He pressed down, his powerful fore-hooves on either side of Stitch'n'Times head as he thrust wildly into him. Then, buried deep inside, Stitch'n'Time felt that glorious surge as Quartz Drift came inside him, his cock pulsing uncontrollably. Quartz lowered himself down on top of Stitch'n'Time, let their bodies twitch and surge against each other. Stitch'n'Time could hear his satiated panting, feel the heaving of his chest against his back. And then, he was gone. Stitch'n'Time felt cold, so very cold, without the warmth of Quartz Drift beside him. The darkness seemed so much deeper now. Desperately, he looked around him. Had this all meant nothing? Was it a prank after all? Part of him tried to slip into panic, but he was too tired, too drained. He flopped to the ground. Too tired even to sob, the tears just seeped out of him. His erection, so magnificent moments before, shrivelled on his damp stomach. Quartz Drifts cum seeped rudely from his anus. It slithered down his hindquarters, a rude, cold reminder of what had just happened. Stitch'n'Time shivered as the sweat dried on him, not just his, but Quartz Drifts. He could smell the stallion on himself, see where he had pulled tufts from the grass. It was real, wasn't it? It had happened? Quartz Drift had wanted him? Had taken him? And left him. That much was true, would always be true. It took a long time for Stitch'n'Time to summon enough strength to stand. He had to get back to his cottage, he had to wash, to cry in the safety of his own home. His head lowered, he found the path from the glade and set his hoof upon it. 'Where do you think you're going, my nothing pony? We are no where near done yet!' The end.