Issue #69: Powerfilly and the Gemini Deception

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Warning/ Disclaimer: The following story contains graphic depictions of consensual and non-consensual sexual acts between three anthropomorphized cartoon horses two of whom are blood related and all of whom are above the age of eighteen. If this is liable to offend you, the author suggests shutting your eyes and screaming at your computer in order to scare the story away. This tactic is most effective in public.

Going Off Script

(An Abandon All Hope Side-Story)

(Poorly) Written By: Your Antagonist

(Lovingly) Written For: Sirius Face

(Laboriously) Edited By: Cpl Hooves.

Issue #69: Powerfilly and The Gemini Deception

“Three o’clock, four hours left...” Vigil Eye the night guard grumbled as he dragged along, half-awake and miserable, through the moonlit fairgrounds of Flim and Flam’s Fantastically Futuristic Funderland. Vigil normally worked security in the afternoons so it was a little strange to see the park so empty and lifeless. However, unlike the day shifts filled with the ear-piercing screams of children, the night was quite serene and peaceful—

“Nyawnn~”

—if a bit tiring, but Vigil was sure that he’d get used to his new sleep schedule soon enough. Making triple one’s salary tends to be a good motivator to step outside of one’s comfort zone. It didn’t exactly hurt that there was no one around to tell him what to do since the security management tended to work during the daytime, one of night-shift’s many unspoken benefits. And if there was one thing the night-shift had over the day-shift, in spades, it was unspoken benefits.

All the day-old popcorn and carnival chow one could eat, loads of downtime to catch up on his soap operas, and though he hadn’t seen it for himself yet, he’d heard that on especially boring nights his fellow shift members would run the rides and games of the park and have themselves a little private carnival. Of course, the chances of that happening tonight—or anytime in the foreseeable future for that matter—were slim. Over the past week, the park had been rendered unfit for patronage by a string of rampant earthquakes. Earthquakes, of all things.

Even by the standards of a country that was in constant peril of mythical monster attacks and invasions by ancient tyrants, it seemed ridiculous that a few tremors would be a subject of interest in the least. The thing was, the earthquakes only came at night and seemed to be exclusive to the park as he’d heard absolutely nothing about them outside of work. Even stranger than that was how short yet intense the quakes were. Barely lasted more than twenty seconds yet they shook more than a virgin in climax.

The aptly named security guard pulled a swig out of his now lukewarm coffee and reflexively grimaced at the piss-poor blend of stale beans and tap water. Tasted like someone ran turpentine through the Manehattan sewage system, steamed it and mixed it in a mug of fermented rat’s milk. Whoever brewed the night-shift coffee was improving, but in spite of this fact, Vigil was still left with a largely undrinkable cup of fresh-brewed disease which he promptly and dutifully deposited in a nearby trashcan.

A shame he had to waste it, but fortunately, Vigil had anticipated the goddess-awful brew and came prepared with a little ‘remedy’…

He glanced around cautiously to ensure that he was alone in the empty park and out of any surveillance camera’s line of sight. Satisfied that he was alone in one of the park’s security blind-spots, the guard withdrew a small flask from his windbreaker pocket and proceeded to knock back a shot, grimacing as hard cider burned the back of his throat.

Unprofessional? Sure, but after five years of working in the same security site, it was the only way to pull through the day-to-day grind. It was a lot harder to get away with during the day-shift, but in time it became second nature to him. Vigil was about to go in on another swig when the world around him, literally and quite violently, rocked and jerked out of serenity, tossing the guard clean off his feet and his booze out of his hand.

“Dammit, no!” Vigil clenched his fist in despair over his fallen beverage, but the shattering of a glass prize display reminded him that now wasn’t the time to be cry over spilled liquor. He needed to find cover.

Standing and stumbling as another powerful quake ripped the ground, Vigil dove under a nearby park bench, covering his head as he curled up into the fetal-position and rode out the ensuing tremors.

For the next few moments, it felt like the park was coming down around him. The world as Vigil knew it was the breaking wood of cheaply made booths and rides as they succumbed to the force of the quake. And before he knew it, quick as the earthquake had begun, it faltered away, leaving in its wake an eerie peace normally reserved for the conclusion of a large-scale battle.

Heart still jacked up from the ebbing adrenaline rush, Vigil shakily crawled out from under the bench and secured his flask, giving it a swirl just to see how little remained. “Not even enough for a proper shot…” he grumbled. “No sense lettin’ it go to waste.” The liquor had barely even touched his lips when he heard something that almost stopped his heart.

Instead of the soothing sounds of nothing, he heard the cackling laughter which was odd for many reasons. For starters, an earthquake isn’t an event that warrants laughter in its aftermath. Panicked wailing? Sure. A cry for help? Maybe. But not laughter.

Another thing that was bothering him was the fact that he heard anypony else at all. Unless his shift manager had suddenly developed a sense of compassion and decided to check on his employees after the quake—which was doubtful, the guy was as self-centered as they came—there shouldn’t have been anyone else but himself in this particular section of the park.

“Whoa! That was a big one!” An exuberant voice cackled into the night.

“I guess that means our prospect is awake and lively. This ought to be fun~♥” Another youthful sounding voice chirped.

“Who do you think we’re here for this time? Auntie wouldn’t tell me…”

“That’s funny, because she told me who it was.”

“What?! No way!"

“Totes way, and get this, it’s one of the Justice League’s heavy-hitters.”

“Who is it, c’mon, tell me! Tell me!”

“Mmm… nah! Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for you. You’ll find out soon enough.”

“Not fair!”

“Don’t care!”

From the sounds of it, a couple of kids had managed to sneak in despite the high security fences and heavily padlocked front gate. Not to mention the numerous signs plastered around the outside of the park saying it was closed for ‘construction’.

“Time to earn the paycheck…” With a sigh, Vigil knocked back the flask’s final offering, stowed it and started towards the suspicious pair, hand on his pepper-spray in case tonight turned out to be one ‘those’ nights.

“Hey!” The pair froze where they stood and turned their heads just enough that Vigil could make out their faces by the light of his horn. A pair of teenaged fillies by the looks of them, one a unicorn, the other a pegasus and both petite little things, each standing a whole two heads shorter than him.

They were dressed in the same sexually-charged ensembles: thigh-high go-go boots, tube tops and spandex short-shorts so tight they left nothing to the imagination; the sort of outfits one would wear out to a rave with the intention of getting drugged and felt up.

The only thing that stood out from the rest of their scandalous outfits were their heavily make-up caked faces, painted to resemble a clown’s. All-in-all, strange, but at least they weren’t the adult ‘baby roleplayers’ he’d heard so much about from the regular night-shifters.

“What do you two think you’re doing?” Vigil barked, “Park’s closed till mornin’.”

The redheaded unicorn playfully rubbed her head. “It is?”

“You see anyone else around here?”

Acting as though they were one mind in two bodies, the pair glanced at each other, then around the park as though they were legitimately searching for other patrons. Upon seeing the quite evident lack of amusement-park goers, they expressed a simultaneous “Ooh...” that seemed a little too sincere to be sarcasm.

“Huh, I thought the lines were a little too short for an amusement park…”

“Darn it,” It was the pegasus who fussed this time, “And here I had my heart set on riding Hydra’s Maelstrom.”

The security guard wrinkled his nose in annoyance. Whether the kids were screwing with him or just naturally air-headed, Vigil would never know, nor would he care. He had a job to do and quiet to indulge in. “Well, as much as I hate to disappoint, the park’s been deemed unsafe for business due to the earthquakes, and even if it weren’t, it’s three in the morning. That said, why don’t I show you both off the premises and while we’re at it, call your parents to come pick you up?”

The pegasus sniggered and leaned in towards the unicorn. “He wants to call Auntie. Should we let him? I’d love to see how that’d play out.”

“Let me think. Uh, no. As much as I love Auntie, I’m quite alright without her making an appearance this evening. Now then, Mr…” The filly leaned in and glanced at his name-tag,

“...Vigil. My brother and I are actually here on business, so if you wouldn’t mind pointing us towards the Haunted House, that’d be much appreciated.”

Brother? Vigil rose an eyebrow at the apparent ‘colt’ who filled out the outfit a little too convincingly. Curvy and slender in all the right places for a filly, but now that he took a proper look at him, he was certainly on the flat chested side. On top of that, there was a very noticeable bulge in the crotch of his shamelessly snug shorts.

“Like what you see or something, pops?” The colt teased a hand down his effeminate thighs and blew a kiss, earning a blush and a sneer of disgust from Vigil.

Permascowl in full effect, Vigil turned to the sister. “So, you’re here on ‘business’, huh?”

“Indeed. We’re the, uh, ‘specialists’ your bosses hired to look into those nasty earthquakes and we have quite the schedule to keep, so if you could be a dear and point us to the haunted house, we can get this matter resolved all the quicker.”

Vigil’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. His bosses had mentioned something about calling a team of specialists to look into the seemingly unnatural tremors that had been plaguing the park, but there was no way in Tartarus that it could’ve been these two. For one, their choice in clothing seemed completely inappropriate for a pair of ponies claiming to be ‘earthquake specialists’. Not that Vigil knew what someone in such occupation would wear on the daily, but he was certain that they didn’t go parading around in tube tops and thigh-high go-go boots.

Another thing that bothered him about the pair’s claim was the fact that he’d caught them skulking around at three in the morning, unannounced no less. Even the Flim-Flam brothers themselves would call ahead before visiting the park. Nothing about this whole situation was adding up.

“Yeah, I’m not buying it, kid. Gonna need to see some proof before I let a couple of kids run around my park at three in the morning doing Celestia knows what.”

“Sis, this is such a waste of time,” It was the pegasus who spoke, “Just let me take care of this rent-a-cop trash so we can be on our way.”

Vigil rose an eyebrow at the brother’s sudden shift in tone. “Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said.”

“What are you doing?” The filly hissed at her brother, “This is not the time for you to—”

“It clearly is. Look at him, he isn’t going to let us go. Just let me handle this, it’ll be quick and I promise not to leave too much of a mess.”

“I said no. It’s because you can’t control yourself that we’re even here, working for free in the first place. Now let me do this so we can get to work!” For all the young mare’s hissing and fussing, her partner silenced her with a finger to the lips as though she were a mere child.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”

“Look,” Vigil said, “I don’t know what’s going on here, but this little punk just reminded me that company policy is to call the cops on any uninvited guests after hours.”

“Wait, wait,” The filly pleaded, “I can—”

“Learn to watch your mouth before I have to do it for you, trash.” The stuck up pegasus stepped forth, challenging the older stallion.

“Why you little—“

“Hold on a second!” The filly urged, pushing her way between the feuding pair. “We have a letter of permission from your bosses.”

Vigil let his glare linger on the colt a bit longer before turning towards the sister, scowl in full effect. “Do you now?”

“Yep, just let me… where did I put that thing… aha, there we are!” She produced an envelope from her modest B-cup cleavage and presented it to the vexed guard. “Just read it and I’m sure you’ll understand the situation.”

Still nursing some healthy skepticism towards the pair, Vigil Eye took the letter and a step backwards just in case the two tried anything while he was reading. The first thing he noticed about the letter was the ruby red and gold seal in the shape of an apple slice, Mr. Flim’s cutie mark.

Vigil fished the letter out of the envelope and gave it a thorough examination, scrutinizing everything from the way the writer crossed their ‘T’s and dotted their ‘I’s. Having seen more than his fair share of the owner’s handwritten memos, it was safe to say that though the content was questionable, this was a letter from Mr. Flim and his instructions had been to give these two all exclusive, no-questions-asked access to the park day or night, rain or shine and to accommodate their every need within reason.

“Ah, very sorry about that,” Vigil apologized, handing the letter back to the filly. “My employers said they’d have very important guests coming to the park this week, just didn’t think it’d be a couple of... well, kids.”

“No worries, happens to us more than you’d think.”

“Once again, my bad. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to find me. Please, enjoy your stay in the park.”

“Thanks, Mr. Vigil, we most certainly will.”

“Actually,” The brother began, the hostility all but absent from his tone. “Before you go, since you offered, there is something I’d like from you if that’s alright.”

Vigil was taken aback by the colt’s sudden request; he hadn’t actually expected them to take them up on his offer. “Um… sure, do you need a... drink or something?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I just wanted to see you smile.”

“A… a smile?”

“Yup, just a big ole’ smile. You can do that for little ole’ me, can’t you?”

Vigil glanced at the sister, who looked as confused about the situation as he felt. “You’re not serious, right?”

“Oh, but I am. Deadly serious.”

Vigil furrowed his brow. There was just something about the crossdressed colt’s tone of voice that chilled the blood in his veins. An octave of bloodlust in a serenade of sweet words, but surely it had to be his imagination. There was no way such a ridiculously dressed, shrimpy kid like this could have put him on edge so badly and yet...

A comforting hand on his shoulder from the curious teen caught Vigil off-guard, especially when he saw it paired with the sultry look aimed at him. “C’mon, big guy, I bet you look great when you drop the whole ‘sulky security guard’ act.”

Vigil blushed at the colt’s flirtatious flattery. The burly security guard was straight as an arrow, yet for some reason this scarily convincing crossdressed colt had him flustered. With a fond sigh, Vigil forced a smirk and even flashed some teeth, free of charge. “There, happy?”

The boy crossed his arms and pouted. “Come on, you can do better than that.”

Vigil snorted a chuckle at the colt. Maybe he was being a little too uptight and this kid seemed friendly enough. “All right, all right, you win, kid. How’s this?” Rows of well-brushed, yet still yellowed teeth shined like candle-lit pearls in the dim park lighting.

“That’s perfect, just perfect, but you know something? Your smile’s still missing a little something.”

Vigil chortled out another chuckle, his smile growing even more genuine. “That so? And what’s that?”

The kid leaped up and swung a solid haymaker clean into Vigil’s jaw, knocking one of the stallion’s front teeth clean out of the gumline. “Well, that tooth for starters.” The colt quipped with a snicker.

“You cheap shotting little shit!” Vigil stumbled back clutching his steadily bloodying mouth. Hand on his pepper-spray, he readied himself to retaliate but the colt was already upon him, following up with a palm thrust to the face. An acrid cloud of green smoke erupted from the colt’s palm, wafting and burning it’s way through Vigil’s nostrils, forcing him to stumble back, hacking and wheezing.

“Awww, what happened to that lovely smile from a moment ago? I quite liked it on you,” the boy teased.

“That’s it, you two-faced little brat. I don’t give a damn if you’re a guest of Mr. Flim’s or not, I’m not about to stand here and take any more of your sh— nggkk!” Vigil fell to the ground writhing and clutching his chest in agony as his lungs were set ablaze in a toxic inferno. An instant later, he began to do something that completely contradicted the searing pain in his chest...

“Heh, heh, heh...”

...he began to laugh.

“Hyahaha!”

“There it is. Just gets more refreshing everytime I hear it.”

“Heh, wh-”

“Now, then, give us a nice big smile.”

“Ha—oof!” The guard choked out the chuckle even after the boy delivered a solid kick to his gut,
knocking the wind out of him. The maniacal cackling pierced through the night. All the while, the muscles in his face straining and reddening while his maniacal grin grew unnaturally wider and wider. He clawed frantically at his cramping face in vain, his dried lips splitting and tearing seemingly without end.

After what seemed like an eternal giggle fit of agony, Vigil finally collapsed choking and puking up his guts all the while sputtering the little air remained in his lungs in a hiss that could hardly be called a snigger.

“Now that’s what I call a smile.”

“Dammit, Pound,” The unicorn groaned, facepalming as she watched the guard go limp and crumple to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. She kicked the guard in his slowly rotting face to check for a reaction, finding none. “Why did you have to do that? Why?!”

Pound crossed his arms, and snorted. “Tch, c’mon, Pumpkin, cut me some slack. I was just teaching him a little respect is all.”

“A little respect? He was going to let us go and then you— ugh!” Massaging her temples in frustration, Pumpkin took a deep breath. Then another. Then a third to compose herself. “It’s all right. It’s all right. We brought a contingency for this. The job can still proceed as planned; I just need to make a call first.” She pulled a small coin out of her pocket and popped it open, revealing a tiny two-way radio.

“Cleaner, this is Baby-Doll, there was an… incident—” The word was practically cobra venom as it slid off Pumpkin’s tongue and into the microphone. “On the ‘living room carpet’. We need it wiped-up before the guests see it.”

“Understood, Baby-Doll, we’re sending in the Maid. We’ll have it spotless in a jiff.”

“See that you do. Baby-Doll, out.”

Her conversation concluded, Pumpkin stowed the radio and turned her incendiary gaze on her twin, who was quick to avert his eyes. “Look at me, Pound.”

“I don’t wanna.”

“Look at me.”

“No way, you’re gonna yell at me.”

“You’re probably right about that,” Pumpkin admitted. “The question is: how much worse will this become for you if you don’t look at me right now?”

Pound scratched his head as he pondered the consequences of invoking his sister’s rage. “Tch, fine.” Begrudgingly, Pound turned to meet his sister’s scornful baby-blue eyes and readied himself for the earful that was sure to ensue.

“Do you have anything to say?” Pumpkin asked in a surprisingly calm tone of voice, but Pound knew better. Beneath that shallow mask of forced composure, a geyser of anger was simmering over, threatening to erupt all over him at the slightest infraction. He needed to proceed cautiously here.

“That you’re really pretty when you’re mad?”

“Shut it.”

“Sheesh, why’re you being so cold all of a sudden?”

“I don’t know, why are you being so thick-headed all of a sudden?” Pumpkin jabbed a dagger-like finger into her brother’s chest. “We had very specific instructions not to harm any of the guards and you just… just look at him!”

“What? He looks pretty happy to me. Besides, it’s not like he’s dead… at least not yet anyway.”

“He should have walked away, completely unscathed!”

“Please, like you didn’t enjoy seeing somepony catch a face-full of Joker Venom.” Even under the moonlight and through the make-up caked on her face, Pound could tell his sister was blushing fiercely.

“Wh-Whether I enjoyed it or not has nothing to do with the issue at hand! Auntie gave us clear instructions to handle this with minimal damage to the park and its staff.”

Pound gave a small shrug of indifference. “One measly guard. Doesn’t get more minimized than that.”

“How about no casualties? That seems pretty minimized to me.”

“Yeah, but then where’s the fun in that? I mean aside from the money and the fact that I love what we do for it, there aren’t really many positives in this line of work. We’re always being hunted down by the police and I’ve got at least four false teeth thanks to our many run-ins with the Justice League. If we’re going to get treated like criminals, at the very least I should be allowed to act like one, don’t you think?”

“That doesn’t mean just… you… ugh...” Pumpkin sighed and scratched her mane. She hated to admit it, but her brother made a good point. “Discord, you’re incorrigible.”

“And you’re sexy.”

Pumpkin giggled at the seemingly random compliment and turned away only to find that Pound had seized her snugly around the waist. “What’re you…” Warm, shiver-inducing lips on her neck and curious fingers intruding under the waistline of her shorts provided all the answers she could’ve asked for. “Dammit, Pound... No. Don’t you start with that, I’m trying to be upset with you.” Pumpkin whined, but her words fell on uncaring ears.

“Can’t help it, sis. The train ride here took forever and you were asleep the whole time.” Pound hugged his sister even tighter so that her perky buttocks pressed snuggly against a growing bulge in his skin-tight shorts. “Do you know how hard it was to just sit there when this damn thing won’t settle down, knowing that sweet relief was sitting just inches away?”

“Ngh… why didn’t you just fuck one of the train attendants or something?”

“I did. Four of them, two at the same time, but as you can see, they weren’t enough to satisfy me.”

Pumpkin scowled, partly out of jealousy and partly out of annoyance that he hadn’t worked out his sexual frustrations and was thusly hindering their schedule. “Well if you’ve got that much energy left, why don’t you save it for work?”

“Aw, don’t be like that. Besides, you know I’ve got stamina for days. One little quickie won’t hurt my job performance.”

“How can you say that when you don’t even know who we’re here for?” Pumpkin laid a hand over her brother’s crotch, attempting to calm him down. “I know you like the back of my hand and if I let you, I just know you’ll want to go again and then— mmmf!” Moist lips and a persuasive tongue stole the filly’s words and reason in one fell swoop, rendering her a powerless victim of her partner’s passions.

Pound broke the kiss, pausing to drink in the unmistakable expression of want on his beloved Pumpkin’s face. “You think too much, you know that?” He teased his fingers along her panties, noting how wet she’d become.

“And you don’t think enough,” Pumpkin sighed, surrendering herself into her lecherous sibling’s embrace. If she was being honest, a quick go with Pound sounded like fun right about now, but there was a job to be done and if they started fooling around, they wouldn’t stop for hours and—

“Again, you’re thinking too hard about this.” Pound said, almost as though he could sense his sister’s thoughts. “Sometimes you just have to leave reason behind and live in the moment.”

“Nnnn…” Pumpkin stirred and squirmed while her brother continued to amuse himself by stroking his fingers along the outside of her dampened panties. “That line of reasoning probably explains why you always end up getting caught by Mare-Do-Well.”

“Ah, ah, ah. That’s why I used to get caught by Mare-Do-Well. In case you’ve forgotten she’s less of a problem and more a plaything these days. But enough about her.” Pound gracelessly wormed his fingers under Pumpkin’s panties. “I believe we were in the middle of something.”

“Pound, wait, you don’t wanna— ♥~kyyaa~♥!” Pumpkin’s words were lost on the lust-crazed colt who could read her body like a book. It was all she could do to bite her lip and endure him. She’d anticipated and planned for her other half’s unsavory appetites and whether he wanted to or not, he was going to learn some damn restraint—

…thick fingers spreading and probing her moist labia...

—starting—

…the warmth of a firm cock anxiously rubbing between her ass cheeks...

—right—

…warm breath and gentle nibbling on her ears and neck...

—now.

*Snap!*

“Agh! What the—!” A sharp jolt of pain in his middle finger spurred Pound to jerk his hand out of his sister’s shorts and reflexively shove her away, the filly cackling uncontrollably as she stumbled and fell on her knees. “Ggh, what the hay was that?!”

“The thing I was trying to warn you about,” She giggled, pointing at the unwanted hitchhiker which had affixed itself quite firmly to Pound’s finger, so much so that it had even drawn blood.

A quick glance revealed the sickening offender’s identity. “Gag teeth?” Pound tossed the damnable novelty back at Pumpkin, who caught it with ease. “First, why in Tartarus am I bleeding? And secondly why were those up there?”

“In order: I tinkered around with the spring mechanism a bit too much and because I figured you’d fall for it.”

“That’s so… and you’re… this is… fuck!”

“You sound upset. And here I thought you wanted me to… open wide.” Pumpkin snapped the teeth for comedic effect, though her brother was clearly not amused.

“That is not funny,” Pound grumbled, sucking his finger to stop the blood.

“Come on, you know that’s top shelf wordplay.” Pumpkin tossed the teeth to the side and started down the path. “Cheer up, there’ll be plenty of time for us to fool around later, but for now we’ve got a haunted house to find.”

“Yes, ma’am.” before they knew it, the pair found themselves in front of a rather dilapidated two-story colonial that looked as though it was being held together with krazy glue, cobwebs and its builder’s best wishes.

“Madame Moonshine’s Mansion of Wandering Souls. Looks kinda rundown.” Pound said, earning a look that practically screamed ‘No, shit, Sherlock,’ from his sister. “Er, for an amusement park haunted house anyway.”

“No point in waiting around.” Pound pushed his way into the foyer of the night chilled attraction.

“Let’s get to work.”

“Wow, someone’s got their priorities straight for once.”

“Not quite. That little episode from earlier has me all riled up and I could reeeeally use some relief right about now.”

“And here I dared to believe that you’d finally grown up a little.”

“Heh, you wish. Say, you still haven’t told me who today’s job is.”

“𝅘𝅥𝅮~And I don’t plan to~𝅘𝅥𝅮” Pumpkin sang.

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“What’s the big deal? You’re going to find out in a few minutes anyway.”

“You know how much I hate being kept in the dark.”

“And you know how much I love to tease you, what’s your point?

“Okay, how about this? What if I guess who it is? Will you tell me then?”

“Probably not, but it still sounds like a fun way to pass the time.”

“All right. We’ve already got Supermare, Superfilly and Mare-Do-Well, and you already said that we’re here for one of their big players. Hmm, is it... Black Canary? It’d be nice to tear those nylons right off those perfect legs of hers.” Pound asked as he stepped over the remains of an old animatronic zombie head.

“Nope, try again,” Pumpkin said, brushing aside a patch of faux cobwebs.

With an annoyed huff, Pound chewed his lip as he contemplated which member of the meta-equine community they’d soon be entertaining. “Is it the Submariner then? I always did love the way those speedos hugged that chiseled little ass of his. Besides, I don’t think we’ve ever been with a Kelpie before since they’re so rare and all.”

“Nuh-uh. But since you mentioned it, we probably should add ‘party with a Kelpie’ to our bucket list. Could be fun.”

“Wait a minute. It’s Wondermare isn’t? You know how much I adore her, so why else would you make such a fuss about her identity?”

“Oh, that’s a good guess,” Pumpkin said, visibly impressed with her brother's powers of deduction.

“Ha, I knew it,” the colt proudly proclaimed.

“Ah, ah, ah.” Pumpkin tutted and shook her head. “All I said was it was good guess. I never said you guessed right.”

Pound’s eye twitched. “I call bull. You’re going through all of this trouble to keep this hero’s identity a secret from me, so who else could it be but the hottest of the Justice League bigshots? It has to be Wondermare.”

“Believe what you want, I’ll neither confirm nor deny your suspicions.”

Pound narrowed his eyes into vindictive little slits. “You’re no fun,” he seethed, although his gripes went largely ignored. Pumpkin’s focus was squarely focused on the decor of the haunted house. Ludicrous as it might’ve sounded, she was looking for something that stood out among the fake cobwebs, floating candelabras and hauntingly lifelike animatronics that seemed like they’d spring into action at any moment.

“This painting...” She murmured, stopping before a rather large portrait that consisted of nothing but eyes of varying shapes, colors and sizes. She began tracing her fingers along the painting until she ran across a small, raised portion on one of the eyes. Instinctively, she pressed her palm against it, only to find that the eye sank into the canvas with a soft click.

A moment later, a mechanical chorus of whirring and clicking sounded and the painting crept ajar just enough to reveal a darkened space behind it. Pumpkin pulled the painting outwards, revealing a shadowy spiral staircase that descended into pitch darkness.

“That proves it! Why would anyone bother building a secret chamber like this if they weren’t hiding someone as high-profile as Wondermare?”

“You just keep on telling yourself that. In the meantime, don't you think we've kept our special guest waiting long enough?”

“You… why can’t you just… oooo! I’m going to figure this out before we hit the bottom of these stairs and you’re gonna tell me when I get it.”

“Uh-huh, sure I will, you just keep telling yourself that,” Pumpkin absently replied, all the while shooing Pound down the stairwell. There was nary a doubt in her mind that Pound would work out who they’d be ‘entertaining’ tonight, but by the time he figured it out, it would be of little consequence.

As Pound stormed down out of sight, Pumpkin dug a pocketwatch out of her shorts and popped it open. 3:30 AM, a little later than she’d intended, but if she played her cards right, this whole evening could still flow right into her projected time-table. All she had to do was give her little ‘surprise’ enough time to serve its intended purpose and she’d be golden.

“Hey, are you coming or what? It’s darker than an Everfree Hydra’s asshole in here!” Pound called.

A scheming smirk on her lips, Pumpkin followed her beloved brother into the darkness, taking care to move the wall panel shut behind herself.

By the light of Pumpkin's horn, the pair strolled down the winding, shadowy staircase, hand in hand, chests aflutter with a nervous energy for the fun they'd have once they reached the bottom. Pumpkin noted from the crushingly tight grip of Pound’s hand that he was beyond anxious and sexually frustrated. Finding his giddiness just adorable, she pecked a kiss on his cheek and nuzzled her muzzle against his shoulder, only breaking contact upon finding herself confronted with a pair of heavy metallic doors that marked the end of the passageway.

“Ah, crap, do we have a key for this?” Pound rubbed the back of his head, racking his brain as he tried to figure out if they’d been given a key or code of some sort with their mission brief.

“‘Fraid not,” Pumpkin sighed.

“Damn, and the communicator isn’t getting any signal down here either… guess we’ll have to go back to the surface and call in the Flim Flams. Ugh, so many stairs…”

“Now hold on a second, I said that we didn’t have a key, not that there wasn’t a means to access the room.”

“Huh?” Pound tilted his head at his sister’s odd choice of words.

“Observe, brother dear.” Pumpkin nonchalantly strolled up to the vault-like door and placed her eye over a small divot that Pound would come to recognize as a retinal scanner. A moment later, the scanner blinked to life and swept a fan of red light across Pumpkin’s eye before a mechanical voice said “[Identity confirmed, welcome Pumpkin Cake.]”

A chorus of mechanical clicks and whirrs sounded from the door which slid forward slightly then into the wall it was affixed to, a bright light piercing through the darkness with each inch the door gave.

“Color me impressed, sis. How’d you know to do that?” Pound asked.

“Just one of those nifty little things you learn when you actually read those briefing packets we get with each mission,” Pumpkin said, smugly taking the lead into the new room.

Contrary to the archaic stairwell, the room the twins now strolled into was blindingly white and sparse area save for two tarp covered tables, a few chairs and a large sliding glass door that connected to a small, pitch-dark chamber.

Pound squinted and blinked, allowing his eyes to adjust to his new surroundings. “Tch, why would I need to read that junk when I’ve got your smart little flank around to keep me informed.” The sharp smack of his palm against his sister’s backside punctuated Pound’s compliment, Pumpkin merely taking the gesture in stride, though her smirk seemed slightly smugger for the remark.

“Well for starters, if you took the time to read that ‘junk’ you might have been able to put together who we’re here for.”

“It said?”

“No, but it had a lot of clues.”

“Yeah, well I don’t like puzzles or guessing games.” Pound found his attention drawn towards the darkened glass of the room. “I’d rather just get right to the point.”

“So predictable,” Pumpkin sighed, audibly disappointed with her twin’s lack of delicacy.

However, Pound didn’t particularly care what she thought of him at the moment; he had a powerful curiosity that needed to be sated. In an instant he was pressed up against the glass like a child anxiously peering into the display window of a toy store, though unlike the metaphorical child, Pound couldn’t see his much desired plaything for the life of him; the room was far too dark. “Agh, dammit! Where’s the light switch for this thing? I need to know who this is! It’s driving me nuts!”

Pumpkin shook her head at her blood-lover’s little tantrum. She always hated seeing him like this, but he did it to himself. Then again, she really did enjoy getting to establish herself as the wiser and more mature sibling from time to time. “You really need to start reading those assignment briefings, because if you did, you would know that this little containment cell is magitech and therefore can only be operated by a talented unicorn such as moi.”

“So what you’re saying is only you can do stuff, right?”

“That’s exactly ri—”

“Then turn up the lights already! I need to know!”

Pumpkin rolled her eyes and touched her horn to the glass, summoning a digital control panel and keyboard. She tapped her fingers across the touchscreen keys in a rapid manner and in a matter of moments, the room was bathed in a faint red light and the silhouette of a well-endowed but unconscious mare came into view.

“Can’t you make it any brighter? I can barely see,” said Pound.

“Geez, I’m working on it, be patient.”

A moment later, the room had grown bright enough for Pound to properly identify the mare in question and his jaw dropped as he slowly began to recognize who she was. “Powerfilly.” Awestruck, Pound laid a hand against the glass. “It’s like Hearth’s Giving, Nightmare Night and our birthday all rolled into one.”

“And you wanted me to ruin the surprise.”

“Well, she’s no Wondermare, but I suppose I can settle for number three from my top five heroines I’d love to break.” Pound licked his lips in a ravenous manner as he ogled and assessed his evening’s ‘assignment’.

She was a rather tall affair, child birthing hips lending themselves to a pair of particularly thick calves and thighs that were toned as they were long. A flat but chiseled six pack was visible through various rips in her signature white, skin-tight leotard but thankfully whatever battle she’d seen the pièce de résistance of her costume, the massive cleavage window that teased a peek of her plump and impossibly perfect double-d cup breasts had miraculously remained intact. Whyever she chose to flaunt her chest in such a fashion was beyond him, all he knew was that it was the one thing that made each very painful run-in with this particular heroine worth the flank-whupping.

As an avid bondage enthusiast, Pound was delighted to find that in addition to steel shackles that bound her wrists above her head, she’d been fitted with a collar and a nicely spaced spreader bar that kept her legs parted just enough that he could appreciate the outline of her labia against the crotch of her costume.

“Damn,” Pound wiped a trail of drool from his mouth, “I’m starting to think I might’ve been too hung up on Wondermare, should’ve kept an open mind.”

“Well, I can see you’re even more eager to get started than before so why don’t we just get you in there?” Cream colored fingers flew across the screen and a portion of the glass door slid open with a pneumatic hiss. “Go get ‘er, tiger. I’ll be right behind you, gotta get the camera rolling.”
Pumpkin smiled watching her brother dance into the room with an ecstatic and effeminate squeal. She’d have waltzed right in behind him, but the touch-screen’s messenger window began to rapidly populate with a series of impatient messages and Pumpkin found herself overwhelmed trying to keep up.

[-mothlord09 said: When's d shO goin 2 start??I put dwn som Cres monE 2 catch DIS livestream
-lexington_liu said: I’m definitely not who you think I am so stop associating that person with this account or there will be severe legal recourse for slander and defamation.
-swole_luchador said: Haven't cn a gud breakN since batmane’s spine :D
-Highrllers2 said: Get started already, you don’t know how long we’ve waited to see that little troublemaker get what’s coming to ‘em.
-laughter_is_the_best_euthanasia said: Embarrass me and I’ll be running my own little livestream starring <3you<3 ;D]

The last message sent a chill down Pumpkin’s spine. She had a mighty strong inkling of who’d sent it and that particular pony wasn’t the type to issue out empty threats. Pumpkin swallowed, all the while trying to convince herself there was nothing to be nervous about. She’d broken the wills and minds of dozens of ponies before and they’d all gone off without a hitch. The only difference was that today she’d have to—

“Sis, come on, she’s coming to!”

“Ngh... I’m coming, I’m coming!” Pumpkin dashed away from her console, joining her brother who’d taken to amusing himself by gently poking the sleeping Powerfilly on the nose, perhaps to see if she’d snap at him like an alligator. “Shall we?”

Pound nodded with a grin and the pair sounded in unison, “Wakey, wakey, eggs and hay-bakey!”

“Nnn…” Powerfilly groggily stirred into consciousness, “Keep it down, will ya? Tryin’ to catch some—” She stopped short when she looked at the scantily-clad duo in front of her. “Oh, great, it’s you freaks.” Powerfilly grumbled. One look at her and the twins could tell she was drained and hating life.

Pumpkin grinned at the sweet sound of their captive’s disdain. “Aw, and here I thought you'd be happy to see a couple of old friends, Powerfilly.”

“I've been happier to take bullets to the teeth.” The heroine spat, “And since when the hell are we ‘friends’?”

“You wound me! I thought we’d be closer after everything we’ve put you through. Did all those death-traps and attempts on your life mean nothing to you?”

“Go fuck ya’self.”

“Been there, done that. I’d rather have a go with you.”

“Cut the crap. If you’re here to kill me, just get it over with already, I’d rather die than listen to the pair of you jabber on for another minute.”

“Lucky for you, we didn’t come here to talk,” Pound said.

“And killing you is completely out of the question,” said Pumpkin, “Auntie sees potential in you.”

“Thinks you’ll be a good asset to the Jokers, just like Mare-Do-Well and the other two alien superfreaks.”

Powerfilly snorted out a weak chuckle. “What makes you think I’d join your messed-up little organization in the first place?”

“I think you’ll find my brother and I to be quite convincing when it comes to persuading new recruits,” Pumpkin said.

“Yeah, you should’ve been there the night we broke in Raven’s sweet little goth ass. It’s funny how quickly those dark and stoic types go from being composed as a statue to horny as a school-filly in heat begging to get pregnant with your foals. I obliged her of course, but only after making her swear allegiance to the Jokers.”

“Goddess’ tears, the pair of you‘re fucked in the head.”

“Aww, looks like somepony has a little attitude problem. Luckily, I know how to put a smile on even the saltiest of sourpusses.” Pumpkin’s horn ignited with a baby-blue aura which she used to summon the tarp covered tables in the lobby to her side. With a flourish, she tore the covers away revealing revealing an all-star ensemble of dildos, anal beads and other exotic marital aids.

And yet, despite the incredibly perverse arsenal at her disposal, Pumpkin chose to brandish two of the least erotic implements on the table: a syringe and a small brown vial baring a poorly drawn cartoon skull. She stabbed the needle into the vial and drew back the plunger, filling the syringe with a syrupy pink fluid. Flicking and squirting some of the fluid from the needle, she turned to Powerfilly, lips twisted into a vindictive little smile. “Hope you’re not afraid of needles,” Pumpkin teased.

“Aww, breaking out the aphrodisiacs already? But we barely got to tease her while she had her wits about her… ah, well, just means I’ll get to use this all the sooner.”

“Get to use whaaa…” Pumpkin’s jaw went slack at the sight of the item her twin had dug out from the bottom of one of the tables. It was a chrome behemoth, about as long as her forearm but twice as thick and absurdly heavy. To call it a mere dildo would have been a massive understatement, but for some reason she just couldn’t bring herself to call it the most inequinely cruel thing either of the twins had ever brought into their workspace.

“Umm… Pound? What the hell is that?” Pumpkin asked, marveling at the cannon-shell pseudo-schlong with a healthy mix of fear and awe.

“Oh, this thing? Well, after our little playdate with Superfilly I decided to invest in something a little more durable just for these super strength types. I can't count how many of our favorite toys fell victim to just that girl’s snatch alone even with the kryptonite collar weakening her powers. Lost my favorite vibrator that day...”

“I see where you're coming from, but using something like that might be overdoing it even if she does have—“

Pumpkin found herself cut off by the violent rattling of chains as Powerfilly began to thrash against her restraints. In an instant, violent tremors rocked through the basement, flooring the twins and a number of their instruments. “—Urgh… super strength…” Pumpkin whined. “So that’s where the earthquakes come from…”

Pound sighed as he pulled himself off the floor and offered his sister a hand up. “You were saying?”

“I stand corrected,” Pumpkin sighed, taking her brother's offer in defeat.

“She’s still too powerful. How do you want to proceed?”

“Just take this and inject her when you’ve got an opening.”

“Aye-Aye, ma’am,” Pound complied with a sloppy hand salute.

Strolling over to the glass door, Pumpkin began to angrily tap commands into the touch screen.
“I'll bet you thought that was funny, didn't you?” Pumpkin snarled at Powerfilly.

“Hee-friggin'-larious,” Powerfilly defiantly spat at her captor.

“Is that so? Then why don’t I give you something to laugh about?” Slamming the ‘Enter’ command with a vengenance, the runes around Powerfilly’s collar began to spark and crackle and before she knew it, a thousand volts of magical lightning went surging through the Kryptonian’s flesh.

In an act of desperation, Babs mustered up every last ounce of strength she had in reserve and tried to force her wrist restraints apart, but to no avail. Having been deprived of yellow-sunlight for so long, she was already severely weakened, but with the magic of the runes simultaneously shocking her and draining her powers, it was only a matter of time before she was no more powerful than a paraplegic house cat trapped under a bag of cement.

“It's useless, you know.” Pumpkin said, her gaze unblinking and affixed to the screen she was so occupied typing away on. “Even without the magic runes keeping your powers in check, those shackles are made from a mixture of pure mythril and vibranium. Supermare herself would have some trouble breaking out of those restraints, but if it makes you feel better, please, feel free to keep trying.”

“All right, sis, I think you’re good to drop the power levels now. She looks pretty fried.” Pound said.

“Tch, fine.” One annoyed huff later, Pumpkin powered down the runes to their normal power-leeching state, but kept the command for maximum output at the ready on the off chance that Powerfilly was just playing possum.

The weakened heroine could only clench her teeth and wince as the syringe pierced her normally unbreachable skin, probing for a vein in which to deposit its payload. “There we go,” Pound urged, watching the pink drain from the syringe. “Gotta make sure you take every last drop.”

The liquid was unpleasantly cold as it infiltrated her bloodstream and began to break down, releasing a chemical cocktail of Celestia-knew-what into Powerfilly’s body. “You little creeps, I’ll make you both pay for this.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that. Just relax and let the serum work. It feels good, right?”

“I… I shoulda' crushed you f-fucked-up little twerps when I had the chance…” Powerfilly growled. Whatever was in her was working fast. Her skin had grown so sensitive she could practically feel the radiating heat from Pound despite the fact that their was a short distance between them.

“Shoulda, coulda, woulda, but didn’t,” Pound mocked. “You might have enough power to rival Princess Celestia herself, but what’s the point if you’re too afraid to actually use it? All that makes you is a really potent empty threat; a machine gun loaded with blanks. It’s quite sad, really.”

Powerfilly gave another involuntary shudder, doing all she could to edge away from Pound who’d drawn so close that she could smell him; sweet but masculine like he’d been lifting weights in a particularly pungent bakery. She turned away, trying to ignore the sweet smelling crossdresser before her, but to no avail. Why did he have to smell so damn good? “What… what do you know?”

“Well, for starters I know that none of the scrubs I’ve ever crossed paths will ever bother me in this life, because unlike you, I’m not afraid to find permanent solutions to my problems. I never get tangled up because my loose ends always get burned, sometimes literally,” Pound gave a sadistic chuckle, to which his captive scowled and turned away.

“That’s sick.”

“That’s the game, babe. You either play it straight or you screw around, make some bad moves and get bit in the ass for it. And speaking of asses...” Pound drew the captive mare closer, allowing his hands to slide down down her back until they arrived at her toned, trembling buttocks.

“Sweet Celestia’s snatch, this thing feels absolutely perfect.” He nuzzled his muzzle against her neck, breathing deeply so as to indulge in her scent. “And you smell so damn pretty, too.”

“Ngg… let go you fucking… little… fuck...” She tried to fight, but the feeling of his warm breath on her neck and his greedy little hands caressing her backside felt surprisingly good and she hated herself for it.

“Well, well, looks like somepony’s finally warming up to me. I wonder if I should take you right now and give you what you want, or make you bear with it a little longer?”

“I… I don’t w-want anything from you…” She spoke with all the bravado she could muster but her words were devoid of sincerity. Between the haziness in her head and Pound teasing his slowly engorging cock against her now slickened labia, it was becoming harder to hide her chemically induced arousal.

“Right, and I guess that must be sweat running down your leg, hm?” Pound ran a finger along her inner thighs up to the crotch of her costume, a warm stickiness coating his fingers as he went. “Although, it sure doesn’t feel like sweat.” He sucked the curious substance from his fingers, pausing to delight in her flavor. “Or taste like it for that matter.”

From her console, Pumpkin watched her brother carry on with measured interest. There was no denying that he was skilled at talking his way between a mare’s legs, but past that, her twin wasn’t good for much else besides slitting throats and baking. Talents that their beloved Aunt Pinkamena Diane Pie, AKA Equestria’s Clown Queen of Crime, had lovingly ingrained into the pair since foalhood.

On the other hand, Pumpkin’s own skill set was less physical and more ingrained in logistics, in particular planning operations and setting traps. It was by her design that Equestria’s strongest heroine now served as her aunt’s personal dildo warmer.

In fact, from the moment they’d boarded the train in Gotham, every aspect of the twins’ evening—save for the unfortunate run-in with a certain security guard who was in critical condition—had been in accordance with Pumpkin’s will. And speaking of...

Her eyes drifted to the on-screen clock. Seven minutes till showtime. With a sigh, Pumpkin pulled herself away from the screen and made her way back to her brother. Nothing wrong with getting an early start, she supposed. “Room for one more?”

“Finally interested are you?” Pound smirked and moved aside to straddle one of Powerfilly’s thighs while his sister mounted the other. “I was worried you were going to spend the rest of our little session looking at that screen.”

“Meh,” Pumpkin ran her fingers through Powerfilly’s ruby-red mane, brushing the hair aside so she could better admire the freckle-faced alien beauty. “I was planning on it, but this little kitten’s mewling drew me over.”

“I’m just glad you finally decided to join us. Now we can have some real fun, and I know just where to start.” Pound slid one hand into the cleavage window on Powerfilly’s uniform.

“Sheesh, you’re so predictable. Not that I disapprove or anything.” Pumpkin chuckled, mirroring her brother’s actions.

Through her lust-clouded haze, Powerfilly mumbled, “What’re you two..?”

“I’ve wanted to do this since the day I laid eyes on you,” Pound giggled.

“It’s on you,” Pumpkin said.

“Do it!” As though they were one mind in two bodies, the twins pulled at the cleavage window of Powerfilly’s uniform, the fabric tearing apart, allowing her ample breasts to burst forth in all their mammarian glory.

“Whoa, they’re huge!” Pound marvelled, awestricken.

“Yeah they are,” Pumpkin concurred, gingerly strumming her fingertips along Powerfilly’s erect nipples.

“Nnngh, don't you fuckin' touch me!”

“Oh, shut up and c’mere,” Hand on the Kryptonian’s cheek, Pumpkin drew the older mare in close their lips meeting in a deep kiss. “Just admit it already, you love this, don’t you?”

“O-Of course I don’t, you creepy little bitch...”

“Hee, hee, how can such a dirty mouth taste so good?” Tongue leading the charge, Pumpkin closed in for another kiss and was met with surprisingly little resistance. Where there were originally cries of resistance, Pumpkin’s kissing skills whisked out sultry purrs of bliss.

On the other side of the amorous action, Pound was getting all riled up from the debauchery unfolding before his eyes and wanted in on the action. Eager hands indiscriminately groped and stroked both mares as he greeted the familiar taste and texture of his sister’s lips with his own. The kiss however was fated to be a short lived indulgence as Powerfilly’s unchecked moaning reminded Pound that he had a new plaything to break in.

Sliding his shorts to his ankles, he positioned himself behind Powerfilly making sure to nestle his erect dick firmly between her pillow-soft buttocks. “Feel that?” A kiss to the neck punctuated the rhetorical question. “That’s all for you. All you have to do is say ‘please rut my sopping wet pussy, like the horny little filly I am’. If you say it sweetly enough, I might even let you bare my foals. What do you say?”

“Fuck you, I’ll kill you for this… I swear I’ll rip your fuckin’ head off!”

“By Discord’s foreskin, you’re even prettier when you’re angry.”

“Well, I can see you have things handled up here,” said Pumpkin, “So if it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll take my talents where they’re needed most.” Pumpkin knelt between Powerfilly’s thighs and pulled the crotch of her costume aside, pausing to appreciate just how wet Powerfilly had become since the beginning of their little session.

“My, my, it’s a mess down here. Looks like we’ll have to get you cleaned up.” With that, Pumpkin began to lap up every drop of the sticky spillage, her tongue eventually finding its way into Powerfilly. She eagerly began to explore the captive mare’s insides, vaginal walls pulsing and convulsing against her tongue in a welcoming massage, while a mixture of Powerfilly’s overflowing juices and Pumpkin’s saliva began to roll down the latter’s chin.

“Mmm… you taste so fuckin’ sweet, babe. I seriously can’t get enough of you. If I wasn’t so afraid of your super strong ass crushing me, I’d even let you sit on my face.”

“Rrrg… just… shut up…”

“Sheesh, I was just trying to pay a compliment, but I guess you’re right. No sense in talking when I could be using my mouth to serve a better purpose right?”

Powerfilly clenched her fists as she tried in vain to resist the twin’s combined assault, but between Pumpkin’s ginger tongue work on her marehood and Pound’s brutish grinding along with the fondling of her breasts, she was little more than a servant to rapture. Will to resist slowly slipping away from her, she found herself involuntarily returning a kiss of Pound’s with a bit of tongue and relaxing into the twins’ care.

“I think she’s finally warming up to us,” said Pound, breaking the kiss.

“Like… like hell I am...”

Pumpkin licked her lips. “Still resisting, huh? I expected as much, Kryptonians tend to be exceptionally stubborn compared to most of the meta-equines we have to break. But like any good plaything…”

“They do break,” Pound finished. “It’s just a matter of how hard we have to play with them.”

Powerfilly whipped her head from side-to-side in an attempt to keep her wits about her. “Nngh… I… won’t give in… not to you two.”

“Just let go,” Pumpkin cooed.

Pound slid his rod right between the gap in Powerfilly’s thighs and began to eagerly rub the tip of his cock against Powerfilly’s clit. “Dammit, just beg for it already you slut. I can tell from the heat between your legs that you need this, so why won’t you just beg?”

“Maybe you should just take the initiative on this one,” Pumpkin suggested. “It looks like the aphrodisiac hasn’t quite taken effect and she’s way too stubborn to succumb to simple teasing.” From the corner of her eye Pumpkin caught a glimpse of her console’s clock. Three minutes.

“Or maybe we could…”

Pound cocked an eyebrow. “‘Maybe we could’, what?”

“Y’know...” Pumpkin traced a finger along the veiny underside of her twin’s penis suggestively. “Put on a little show of our own. Give her a little ‘visual stimulus’ to get the blood pumping, help the drug circulate a little better.”

“Not gonna happen, sis.” Pound swatted the horny filly’s hand away off of his junk. “This stuck-up bitch has to take responsibility for getting me all riled up with that lewd body of hers, but if she won’t beg, then she leaves me no choice.” Fed up and annoyed, Pound lined himself up for the initial penetration and went for it, only to once again have his dick snatched into his sister’s possession.

“Come on,” Pumpkin whined. “We’ve got all night to play with Powerfilly, I’m just asking for a quick fuck to help me settle down. Five minutes tops.”

Pound pinched his nose and groaned, “Dammit, Pumpkin. Weren’t you the one talking about putting the job first and all that earlier?”

“But Pooound…” The colt followed the path of his sister’s free hand as it disappeared into the waistline of her shorts and began to stir, whisking out shameless whinnies with each stroke. Eyes half-lidded and cheeks aflush, she turned her expectant gaze on her brother who immediately found his ability to resist slowly slipping away from him.

“Ngh… we’ve got a table full of toys, why don’t you just use those?”

“Because I want you.”

“But…. but, Pumpkin…”

“Pleeease, Pound,” She was practically begging now. “Just a quick little fuck to help take the edge off. I really need this.”

Conflicted, Pound resisted the urge to push in and pondered this new development. He was a simple cock nudge away from violating the mare responsible for taking two of his four missing teeth, but at the same time his sister, whom he loved more than anything and would go to Tartarus and back for, had need of him in a lover’s capacity. While he wanted more than anything to take the superheroine where she stood, Pumpkin—in both his life and in the bedroom—came first.

Reluctantly, he pulled himself off the older mare. “Sorry, Powerfilly, this’ll take just a moment. Heh, don’t go anywhere,” he mocked, playfully tugging at his captive’s chains.

“Oh, stop teasing her and come here.” Pumpkin was quick to close the distance between the pair, reflexively kneeling and taking custody of her brother’s unruly penis with her mouth. She wasted no time working her tongue along his girth, lovingly lubing the love-muscle with a thick coat of saliva so that she could better deepthroat him. A glance at the clock; One more minute.

Pound grit his teeth, partially to bear with the sensation of his sister’s immaculate-as-usual head game, but also out of annoyance; the colt’s patience for foreplay had worn paper thin. Snatching his other half by the mane, he pulled her to a stand and said, “Enough of that, let’s just get to it.”

“Oooh,I love it when you get all worked up like this. Go on then, take me, right now.”

From the sidelines, Powerfilly groaned in disgust, but her incoherent gripe fell on deaf ears. The twins were too engrossed in one another’s lips to pay the heckling heroine any mind. In his driven state, Pound hardly noticed that he’d worked a hand into his sister’s shorts, until he was one handful of her plump yet perky ass richer for his efforts. With his free hand, the colt sought to emancipate her breasts from their tube top prison, however it was at this moment that a very disturbing realization made itself apparent to Pound: his fingers wouldn’t move.

At first Pound disregarded the numbness spreading up his hand, figuring that his arm had some how managed to fall asleep amid the excitement. Once he felt the same lack of sensation spread to his legs he began to suspect something was amiss, but it wasn’t until his knees involuntarily quivered and buckled from under him that he was sure of it.

Pumpkin held him firm and continued to press through the overly passionate kiss despite the fact her twin had gone limp as a corpse in her arms. Easing him to his back, she sat up and began to run a finger through his chest fur. “And now I suppose you want me to do all the work, too, huh? Typical guy in bed.” Pumpkin sighed sarcastically.

“What the... What's going on!?”

“I spiked your perverted little femboy ass.” Pumpkin proudly proclaimed, smirking as she stood.

“B-But how? When?” Pound stammered, his body growing unbearably warm to the point that a light coat of sweat had begun to form on his coat.

“Remember those joke teeth from earlier? They were coated with a paralyzing agent I designed to breakdown in the bloodstream within thirty minutes . All I had to do was keep you busy long enough for the drug do its thing, and voila, one incapacitated dipshit made to order.”

“You... total bitch!” Pound roared indignantly. “How could you do this to me?!” In his impaired state, the infuriated pegasus tried to stand only to stumble and fall at his sister's hooves.

“I think the real question here is ‘what have you done to bring this on yourself?’”

“What… what the hell are you talking about?”

Pumpkin sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. “I guess even a dog doesn’t know it’s done wrong until you’ve rubbed its nose in its own filth, so I’ll make it simple.” She knelt down and gently laid the now completely paralyzed Pound’s head on her lap, stroking his mane as she spoke.

“Look, I love senseless theft and destruction as much as the next Joker, but the gang isn’t the same as it was when we were kids. It’s a bigger organization now. There’s a lot more that goes into every little thing we do from the smallest bank heist to the biggest hostage ransom. And ironically, even though we’ve expanded the scale of our operations, you’re still acting like a child. We make plans while you make messes. We’re training soldiers and you continue to carry on like some two-bit thug. In short, brother dear: you’re a fucking hindrance.”

Pumpkin paused to summon the aphrodisiac vial and a fresh syringe which she immediately began to prep. “In light of this, Auntie gave me a choice: either I fix the problem with you or she’ll deal with both of us personally. You’ve seen how Aunt Pinkie works. If you ask me, I’m doing you a kindness by handling this myself.”

Pound winced upon feeling the prick of the needle as it began to drain its contents into his veins. “I'm your brother for fuck’s sake.”

“And that’s why I haven’t killed you outright.” Pumpkin leaned forward and lovingly kissed Pound on the forehead. “Had you been anyone else, I would’ve broken both of your legs and thrown you into the Gotham sewers so Gummy could have a new chew toy to play with. But you’re blood, so I’ve decided to rehabilitate you. Although, I can’t exactly promise you’ll enjoy my methods.”

Pound began to pant as the serum took effect and his body temperature began to spike. Because of her alien physiology, Powerfilly had been able to resist the concoction’s effects, but Pound, mere mortal that he was, suffered effects that were immediate and amplified in comparison. His already erect penis had swollen up an inch bigger than its natural threshold and the strain was unbearably painful.

“Aw, it looks like it’s crying, poor thing,” She cooed, running a finger along the hypersensitive underside of Pound’s rager. “That must be so painful for you. Don’t you worry your cute little head, though…” Kindly lips parted into a crazed, toothy grin. “...it’s only going to get worse once I walk out of this cell. For what it's worth, I'm sure you probably won’t die.” Her piece said, Pumpkin gingerly laid her brother’s head on the floor and strolled out, the cell door sliding shut and sealing itself behind her with a hiss.

“Pump...kin...” With the last of his strength, Pound reached out to his twin, who offered a sympathetic smile and proceeded to type commands into her console. As she typed, Pound noticed that the glowing runes on Powerfilly’s shackles were fading away, reducing the bindings to mere metal.

Now unhindered by the enchantments, Powerfilly pulled the her manacles apart with ease, the chains snapping as though they were made of twine rather than two of the strongest metals known to ponykind. Two well placed punches took care of the shackles around her legs and just like that, one of Equestria’s strongest meta-equines had regained her relative freedom.

“What’s this? Lettin’ me go just like that?” The Superheroine asked, massaging her sore wrists. “You’re makin’ a pretty big mistake.”

“Am I?” Arms crossed, Pumpkin chuckled and leaned against the glass of the cell door. “I wonder about that.”

“That so?” Babs cracked her knuckles eagerly and wound up her shoulder as she walked past Pound towards the very thin, very much not-Kryptonian-proof wall of glass. “Well, let me go ahead and put your mind at ease.” With a step and a pivot, Powerfilly swung out a wild haymaker that was destined to shatter the glass with ease, but at the last second she instinctively stopped herself, sensing something was amiss.

“Hmm? What’s the matter? I thought you were going to shatter this glass into a million pieces, or has the all-powerful Powerfilly grown so weak that a mere pane of glass is proving too much of a match for her?”

Whether or not she had enough power to break through the glass had nothing to do with the halting of her attack. She experimentally rapped a knuckle against the glass only to have a vicious spark of magic viciously repel the half-hearted assault. “You unicorns and your friggin' magic...” Babs groaned, massaging the bruise that formed on her rapidly healing knuckle.

“You didn't think that those enchanted shackles were the only precautions I took, did you?” Pumpkin casually dug into her very shallow pockets and produced a single bit which she flicked at the glass. Not even an instant after the coin made contact, it sparked and ricocheted past its caster like a bolt of lightning, burying itself deep in the far-wall.

“Kinetic deflection spell. In case you’d forgotten, we’ve had to deal with two Kryptonians and the ever crafty Mare-Do-Well. Let’s just say I’m not exactly worried about having one pulled over on me by off-brand Supermare. But if you think you can prove me wrong, I’d love a demonstration.”
Powerfilly glowered at the condescending little wench, carefully measuring her options. ”I’d be delighted to provide one for you, but first I’m gonna need a little help from your brother here.”

She knelt, seized Pound by the throat and slammed him against the glass, a magical shock erupting through the powerless teen’s body. He wanted to scream in pain, but with his largely unresponsive nervous system preventing him from moving a single muscle, he could barely muster a whimper.

“Wow, that looked like it must’ve hurt.” Pumpkin noted, quite unimpressed.

“Yeah? Well I’m sure it’ll hurt a whole lot worse once I put this creep’s head clean through the glass and throw you through the ceiling.”

“Is that so? Hold on a sec.” Pumpkin, much to Babs’ confusion, retrieved a chair from the corner of the room and promptly plopped down, eyeing the scene expectantly as though it were the high moment in a soap opera. “Go on, and do it... if you can.” Pumpkin challenged, much to Pound's unspeakable astonishment.

First she abandoned him to Powerfilly's mercy and now here she was, gambling with his life. It was at that moment that Pound swore that if he were to somehow make it out of this alive he’d see to it that Pumpkin would pay for every inch of her betrayal, plus interest.

“You think I won't do it?” Babs tightened her grip on Pound’s throat. “You think I won't crush your little freak brother's skull against this glass like a fuckin' grape?”

“Think?” Pumpkin chuckled. “Hun’, I know you won't do it. You don't have what it takes to take a life.”

“You don't know shit about me, little girl,” The heroine spat, but Pumpkin was undeterred.

“On the contrary, I know lots of things about you, Babsy.”

A powerful surge of cold chilled its way through Powerfilly’s veins. In her shocked state, she inadvertently released her grip on Pound who crumpled against the glass like a ragdoll. “How… how did you…”

“The whole name thing? Yeah, as it turns out, a pair of glasses and a change of clothes doesn’t exactly qualify as a ‘disguise’. Of course, your name is just the tip of the ice-berg. I know loads about you, in the cape and out of it.”

“That’s… that’s impossible. You’re full of shit, you’ve gotta be bluffing.”

“Oh, Babsy, I was hoping you’d say that.” Pumpkin opened a video file on the glass, which she enlarged for Babs’ viewing pleasure. “See, because I know you so well, I know exactly how to pull your precious little life apart, piece by piece, loved one by loved one. But don’t take my word for it.”

Pumpkin pressed play.

The video opened on a busy Manehattan street in full big city swing. Cabs and buses ferried passengers to destinations unknown while a food vendor peddled overpriced concessions to crowds of hungry passersby. To the run-of-the-mill viewer the video would have been nothing more than a regurgitation of daily metropolitan life, but for Babs the scene was haunting.

She knew this particular stretch of road as she’d been down it more times than she cared to count, each time with a certain somepony in tow. A certain somepony who, much to Babs’ dread, had strolled into the shot wearing that canary yellow dress that she only wore on nights out.

The Kryptonian felt her blood run cold as the camera zoomed in on another mare whom she quickly recognized as herself. Green sweater, plaid skirt, bouquet of daisies behind the back. This video had been taken last month; their one year anniversary.

Babs turned her eyes from the screen as she and Twist leaned in and shared a kiss, not needing to see more. She knew where her on-screen rendition’s evening went from there.

Dinner and a movie. A late night stroll in the park. Coffee. Pillow talk. What she should have recounted as a heartwarming memory of her beloved had been soured by the sinister implications of the video.

They knew about Twist. They knew where she lived.

“Just so we’re clear, we’re still pretending that wasn’t you in the video, right? So it shouldn’t bother you in the slightest if I were to have some of my boys make a house call to that little cutie? I think her name was Twist or something.”

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare!” In her rage, Babs tossed Pound to the side and absentmindedly slammed a fist into the glass, triggering a magic rebound strong enough to blow the heroine off her feet. Powerhouse that she was, she shook off the impact like it was nothing, but the trembling in her lips showed that Pumpkin had hit her where it really counted.

Pumpkin reached into her cleavage and pulled out a small box with a simple red button. “See this? It’s a special beacon I made to alert some of the more depraved men-folk in our organization. One press and your beloved filly-friend gets to experience a night to remember with the most vile and depraved sons of Cragadiles to ever swear allegiance to my beloved aunt.”

“No!” Whatever defiant spunk Babs managed to hold onto until now had been stolen away. “No, please. I get it already, so what the hell do you want from me?”

“That depends, how far are you willing to go for that girl’s sake?”

Babs dug her fingers into the cold marble of the floor as though it were sand. “I’d do anything to keep her safe.”

“Even if meant taking orders from me?”

Babs clenched her fists in frustration. She had enough strength to level a skyscraper in one punch, and yet in the face of a threat from a scrawny filly whose spine she could’ve snapped like a pretzel, she was powerless.

“Well?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I suppose you shouldn’t have a problem with me putting that conviction of yours to the test, right?”

“No,” Babs replied dejectedly.

“No, ‘what’?”

“...no, ma’am.”

“That’s more like it.”

“What do you want from me?”

“So very much, but right now I just want you to help yourself.”

“Help myself?”

“Mhm. See, you’ve managed to hold it together better than most, but I know that you’re just putting on an act. My little aphrodisiac is driving you crazy, isn’t it?”

“L-Like hell it is. I don’t feel a thing.”

“Aw, sweetie, if you could’ve kept your fingers out of yourself long enough I might’ve believed that.” A surge of magic whisked Babs hand to eye level where her fingers glistened with her vaginal juices. “You’re not gonna try to tell me that’s flop-sweat trailing down your fingers are you?”

Babs ripped her hand out of Pumpkin’s control and spat at the glass.

Pumpkin smiled and slumped back down in her chair. “Now, to get you started, I’m sure my lovely livestream audience can think of a thing or six for you to do—”

If there had been a olympic game for how quickly righteous indignation could turn to stage fright and mortification, Babs would’ve been a gold medalist .“Y-You’re filming this?!”

“Um, yeah, we’ve been live since the moment we stepped in here and woke your pretty little flank up, but that shouldn’t be a problem for you, right?” Pumpkin gingerly traced a finger around the circumference of her blackmail button, reminding Babs of the stakes.

“No, of course not.”

“Then if there are no objections, why don’t we start off with something simple? A blowjob for starters.”

Babs was hesitant at first, but after reminding herself that she was doing this for Twist, she quickly found herself kneeling between Pound’s legs. His cock was a curious thing to see up close, like someone had cropped the penis of a more physically impressive stallion onto the colt’s effeminate frame. Past that, there was a strong, yet sweet scent wafting from the thing that while not exactly appetizing told he had the common courtesy to practice good hygiene.

With a nervous swallow she urged herself forward, lips parted and tongue curled to better accommodate the girth. She’d barely kissed the thing when Pound groaned and involuntarily bucked his hips, released a thick jet of something warm and salty erupted from the tip and plastered the back of her throat. “Ack!” She spat and sputtered, “Ugh, what the f—”

“Kyahaha! Did he seriously cum already? I guess Supermare’s not the only one who’s ‘faster than a speeding bullet’, am I right?”

Ignoring Pumpkin, Babs spat out the residual remnants of semen and wiped the spillage on her chin with her tattered uniform.

“Now, Babsy. Pound went through all of that trouble to save up such a thick load for you. Don’t you think it’s a bit rude to just waste it all like that? Show him some appreciation and use that tongue to clean him off.”

Babs grimaced as another spurt of jizz pumped its way out of the tip. “Are you serious?”

“Wanna find out if I’m kidding?”

With a roll of her eyes, Babs turned her attention to the herculean task before her. The colt’s cum-glazed member was surprisingly still very much erect, showing no signs wilting anytime soon. She’d already had a taste and it was far from the worst thing she’d ever tasted—that particular honor went to Mare-Do-Well’s cooking followed closely by the various drainage pools of the Gotham City Sewer system she’d been knocked into over the years.

Brushing her hair aside, she leaned in but found herself offput by the curious odor radiating from his member. Experimentally, she sniffed at thing, finding herself drawn in by the lewd smell where she expected to recoil in repulsion.

She ran her tongue along the glaze underside of his shaft, demurely at first, scooping up just enough of his lukewarm load to swallow without gagging. She paused to allow his syrupy seed to run down her throat. Warm and bitter, yet somehow tasteless[16] .

Using her tongue a little more boldly, she attacked the sides even going so far as work her lips into the equation so she could scoop up some more of the Cake’s frosting. It wasn’t long before she’d gone from reluctantly licking to methodically sucking him off.

She didn’t want to admit it, but something in the back of her mind was convincing her that there was some enjoyment to be derived from this whole affair. While it was most likely the delayed effect of the drug she’d been resisting until now, she couldn’t deny that a strong fixation on her partner’s body language was her biggest turn-on.

Gliding her lips along the underside of his shaft yielded shallowed breathing while suckling the head made his ass quiver. Having noticed the latter, she firmly took hold of his surprisingly soft buttocks, using it as leverage to be begin her descent down the dick.

“Look at you go,” Pumpkin encouraged from the sidelines, “Show that fat cock a little love.” Though her words went unheard by the presently preoccupied Powerfilly.

On the receiving of the blowjob, Pound was more annoyed than enamoured. That’s not to say he didn’t enjoy Powerfilly eagerly slobbering all over his knob, but given her sexual orientation it wasn’t much of a surprise that her tongue work paled in comparison to his sister’s. Too whitebread and too amateur to make him cum, he’d have gotten more enjoyment out of being jerked off with a pie.

It was as he was boarding this train of thought that Powerfilly did something that neither of the twins could have anticipated...

*Sllrp*

… she’d slid a finger up Pound’s ass.

“Whoa! I don’t recall telling you to take it that far, but don’t let me stop you from throwing some kink in the mix, babe!”

Pound squealed and clenched his ass around Babs’ finger as she violated his tight little boypussy. Admittedly the Kryptonian’s anal antics were a step above her head game, although she was much rougher with him than he was used to. With each thrust of her fingers it felt like she was one away from ripping his ass apart and it put her in a trance-like state, like she was testing how much he could take. Her aggressiveness was a sure, but not totally unwelcome, sign that Pumpkin’s drug was interfering with Babs’ ability to control her powers.

An unusually eager pass of her tongue brought back his awareness. Thick, powerful fingers raiding and massaging his prostate. Moist lips trailing warm saliva up the underside of his shaft before while her tongue experimentally massaged all the little sensitive areas in between. Her free hand rapidly stroking him shaft to balls with a grip like a roided out python.

Too much going on at once. Way too much going on at once. It was evident that he’d underestimated her and try as he might, Pound couldn’t bring himself under control. Before he knew it, he felt that tell-tale pressure welling up from within his loins and cried out. “Nngggh... fuck!”

Climax.

Pound clenched his eyes shut as he surrendered, his thick syrupy load spurting forth from his overly-stimulated cock, filling Powerfilly’s mouth to the brim. He expected her to immediately pull away, spitting and sputtering, but she forced herself to swallow every drop even as a second, equally viscous spurt of jizz pumped into her mouth.

She began to clean him off, seemingly on her own as opposed to his sister’s instruction, and that’s what Pound was afraid of. He’d seen the long term effects that his sister’s drug tended to have on meta-equines but in those instances he’d been allowed some semblance of control over the subject in question. Right now however, he was completely at the mercy of the mare with a justifiable grudge and no control over her own actions.

Having regained his bearing somewhat, Pound turned his attention to Pumpkin and glared. He swore that if he somehow managed to get out of this alive, he’d make her pay for betraying him. But first, he had to survive the coming storm.

Pumpkin caught her twin’s disdainful eye and blew him a kiss in retort. Still, while her stars were taking a post-climax respite, Pumpkin figured that now was as good a time as any to take a few moments to check her workstation and gauge her audience’s enjoyment.

She licked her lips hungrily as she focused one of the cameras on Babs’ backside. Unlike most of the super-strength types she’d broken before, the Kryptonian’s rump wasn’t overly muscular to the point of being grotesque. To the contrary, it was so plump and that all Pumpkin could think of was leaving saliva-rich hickeys all over it. Something to indulge in once Babs had been properly broken in.

Satisfied that everything was in working order, her eyes flitted to the stream-chat which had grown rather lively during Powerfilly’s foreplay session.

[-redneck_reptile said: enuff 4play, lets see the bitch fuck already
-arcticbirdfan5 said: ^couldn’t agree wth the inferior subhuman freak moar; give us sum fuk
-mr_sleeze said: evrybody needs to CHILL out befor mods giv us the cold shoulder
-badkitty13 said: ^just couldn’t help yourself, huh, Victor?
-apokolips#1_gmilf said: Ouch, ousting the broski’s secret identity, notcool, SELENA]

Pumpkin sighed at the chat which was slowly igniting into a flame war. Truthfully, she wanted to see how far the forum would devolve, but knowing that her aunt and the Flim-Flam brothers were watching she knew she had to get the chat topic back on track lest she embarrass her sponsors.

“Well, it can’t be helped I suppose. I was just thinking it was time to move this show along anyway.” Sighing, she stood and turned her backside to the camera. Flashing a wink over her shoulder she bent over slowly sliding her shorts down, exposing her ass and plump marehood for Babs and all of her degenerate livestreamers to see, topping off the strip tease with firm slap of her ass. Predictably, the chat had exploded with all manner of praise, lewd invitations and donations, however the oddest comment hadn’t come from the forum, but Powerfilly herself.

“Planning on joinin’ us?”

Pumpkin paused, blinked twice and chuckled, appreciating Powerfilly’s remarkable resilience given the circumstances. “Not quite, but while I won’t be part of the festivities, I still intend to enjoy myself, though not as much as you’re about to.”

“What’re you talking about?”

“Like you don’t know what comes next.”

It didn’t take Babs long to decipher Pumpkin’s expectant leer. “C’mon, wasn’t making me suck him off enough for you? Why don’t you come in here yourself and let me take care of you?”
Pumpkin snorted a chuckle. “As if you could satisfy me. Besides you’re not done yet, see?”

Pumpkin pointed at her brother’s penis which, to Babs’ surprise, was once again fully aroused.
“That was just a warm up. Fully erect and ready to go again. You don’t see very many stallions with my little bro’s stamina. I know you’re not really into guys, but even you must be able to recognize a quality cock when you see one.”

Babs’ cheeks turned a deep shade of crimson and she turned away, although something kept her attention glued to Pound’s member. Though she’d be loathe to admit it, Pumpkin wasn’t wrong. Babs had been with a few stallions before finding a soulmate in Twist, but few had been able to satisfy her. Not for lack of trying of course, but a Kryptonian libido wasn’t something that could be sated with a conventional roll in the hay. Pound on the other hand…

Babs allowed her focus to drift a little more towards Pound’s equipment. He had the size, and after witnessing certainly had the stamina. If it was this colt’s cock, then maybe, just maybe she’d be able to succeed where countless sexual misadventures had failed and finally get her rocks off.

“What’s the matter? You deepthroated him easily enough and you even enjoyed it, don’t think I couldn’t tell. Aren’t you just dying for more?”

“I… I ain’t doin’ this for me.”

“Suuure you’re not. This is all for Twist, right?”

Babs would have sneered at Pumpkin’s sarcastic bitchery, but she was too preoccupied with with the process of betraying her lover. Seeing no point in dragging out the inevitable, she straddled Pound’s hips.

“Atta girl.”

“Here goes…” Reaching back she grabbed Pound’s cock, which to her disgust, was still slick with lukewarm sperm and saliva. Lining the head up with her slit, Babs eased her hips back and felt the first few inches slide right in, her pussy reflexively clamping down as it proceeded to engulf the meal it had been so graciously provided.

“No half measures, huh? That’s one of the things I admire about you, Babsy.” Pumpkin paused to lick her middle and index fingers, ensuring to get them nice and wet before sliding them in her pussy. “You... ♥~ah~♥ really just get right to it, no messing around.”

Pumpkin’s teasing fell on deaf ears as Babs was focused solely on the throbbing love muscle forcing its way inside her. She glanced down at her ‘co-star’, and felt the her cheeks grow warm at the sight of his pathetic expression.

She wouldn’t allow herself to admit that there was a bit of attraction here, that she found him to be absolutely adorable but right this moment, there was something about Pound that just spurred her forward into the encounter. A moment later, she realized what it was about him that had her so riled up: it was his scent.

Burying her muzzle into his neck, she breathed in deeply, cheap body wash. One breath turned to two and two breaths turned to addiction. Before she knew it, she’d begun peppering his neck with unintentionally affectionate kisses while her hips began to gyrate seemingly of their own volition.

She needed to feel more of him, but her damn clothes were in the way. Grabbing her uniform by the navel, she tore the article away like wrapping paper on a hearth’s warming gift, rendering her nude save for a few stubborn scraps of cloth and her boots.

He was addictingly warm and his body was so soft in contrast to her toned amazonian figure. That’s not to say he wasn’t decently muscled for a colt of his build, but with every movement she made it felt like she’d crush the powerless colt flat. So fragile. So helpless. So completely at her mercy.

She watched him pant and quiver as her pussy drooled all over his cock. Seeing him like this, reminded her of Twist during their more intimate moments. But unlike Twist…

Pound felt a drastic pressure on his sternum as Powerfilly placed a hand on his chest and leaned forward, her pussy dragging along him as she ascended his shaft.

...she could get herself off without having to restrain her powers.

*Wham!*

Pound swore he felt his hip bone crack as Babs’ ass crashed off his thighs like a meteor, and almost cried as she slowly slid her pussy up his shaft for another descent. ‘So… fucking tight… feels like she’ll pull my dick right off’ he thought as the stimulation from his super sensitive cock forced a tear from his eye.

“♥~Mmm~♥ good one, babe,” Pumpkin moaned amidst self-imposed strokes on her clitoris. “Keep ‘em coming, so I can keep cumming.”

Again, before Pound could catch his bearings, she dropped her hips again. The impact knocked the wind out of him, but he scarcely had enough time to suck in another breath before she came back again, and again, and again, each time harder and heavier than the next.

Babs was a wonder to watch in action. Whether she was aware of it or not, she’d begun using her full strength to fuck him into the floor, as indicated by the cracks that began to form in the tile arounds his hips. Despite the agonizing pain and the fear that his cock would snap if she came down on him wrong, Pound couldn’t help but feel turned on.

At long last, a sweet merciful pause as Babs took a moment to better appreciate her enraptured beau’s resilience. Most ponies would have either given up or died from the severe hip-trauma, but compared to most of the hero-wallopings he’d taken in his criminal career, this was a botched deep tissue massage at worst.

“You know, I was actually worried about crushin’ your scrawny ass for a second, but you can take it, can’t ‘cha, you little shit? See, what we got here is rare opportunity for me to cut loose and show you just how big a freak I really am.”

She stole his lips in the sloppiest manner possible, tongue eagerly probing and sampling the tastes and textures his mouth had to offer. Her hands found their way to his curiously squeezable buttocks, she began to move again, forcing his hips upwards so she could take him deeper with each roll of her hips.

It was just a matter of time before Pound once again found himself nearing his limit. He didn’t want to give Babs the satisfaction of knowing that she’d essentially brought him to his knees, but betrayed himself by mindlessly murmuring, “So… fucking close…” He tried to keep his voice hushed, but of course that was a moot tactic against a mare who possessed super hearing.

“C-Cummin’ so soon? What happened to all that fuckin’ bravado from earlier?”

“Don’t stop till you milk that pervert’s balls dry, Babsy” said Pumpkin. Pound briefly noticed that Pumpkin had ditched her top and taken to playing with her nipples as well as her clit. He also noted her expression as he was more familiar with precursors of his sister’s climax than a twin should’ve been. Flushed-red cheek and unfocused, half-lidded eyes. Labored breathing followed by a breathy, near soundless string of obscenities.

The sight of his sister just as she squirted was just the push to send him reeling over the edge climax. For the third time in twenty minutes, Pound clenched his eyes and busted with such intensity that his back began to arch involuntarily.

He could see Babs shudder as his hot load drowned her womb, painting her insides with plaster-thick cum. He shifted his gaze to where they were joined and could see the overflow seep out of her quivering pussy and trickle down his balls.

Babs, now finally spent, collapsed on top of her partner, panting and shuddering from effort and orgasm. For just a moment, despite his bruised and beaten hips, Pound couldn’t help forcing a weak smile. There was nothing greater than seeing such a headstrong heroine reduced to mere harlot.

“Don’t… don’t look so smug you little bastard. You ain’t done yet.” Babs chided as she stood over Pound. Seizing him by the mane, she pulled him until he was eyelevel with her marehood. “See this mess you made?” Pound watched quite attentively as Babs spread her labia allowing a glob of his cum to ooze from her pussy and down her inner thigh.

Watching his seed spill out of her, the colt felt a sense of pride in knowing that he’d marked her, but also a tinge of fear fear. There was no telling where her mindset was now that she’d came, but luckily he wouldn’t have to wait long to find out.

“You’re gonna take responsibility for this, so clean it up.” With a swiftness, Pound found his muzzle pressed quite firmly against her muff. The musky scent of sweat and semen pervaded his nostrils and made his mouth water. While Pound’s arms still felt like they’d been dipped in molten fatigue, there was still some life in his tongue.

He imparted a soft kiss on Babs’ palette and moaned as a mixture of Babs sticky juices and his gummy load rolled onto his tongue, bitter, salty and somehow sweet all at once. He couldn’t get enough of the obscene taste, but he didn’t have the energy to really get after it. Fortunately, Babs had no problem bringing the source to him. Pumping her hips and pulling his mane towards her, she started to getting more and more into it.

Needing to remind herself that she was in control of this encounter, Babs pulled him away only to have him lap and lick desperately after her. He’d gone feral like a ravenous hound on a short leash with a steak before him. With eyes like a lovestruck puppy and a mouth covered in his own cum, Pound was truly the most pathetic partner she’d ever dominated.

In the interest of inspecting her partner’s work, she slid a finger in herself and sucked off the juices. “Mmm,” She began with a lick of her lips, “Tastes like you missed a spot. No worries, I’ll make sure you fix that.” With an effortless flick of her wrist, Babs had Pound sprawled out on his back, eyes clenched in pain.

Opening his eyes, he found himself greeted with the rather lovely sight of Babs’ thick thighs and sopping nethers. He might’ve even grinned had his partner not dropped it on his face, effectively smothering and crushing him in the best possible way. “Even you couldn’t fuck up from this angle,” said Babs, “Now do it right this time.~Oooh~, that’s it you fucking little fuck, right there... right there… ah, fuck me~”

Face sitting. Pumpkin lips pursed into an envious little pout, but infuriatingly she couldn’t figure out who to be more jealous of. She knew from experience that her brother’s face made an excellent chair, but at the same time she wanted to take a bite out of that fat, freckled apple from the Big Apple. But then a thought struck her: what if she could have both? Her brother’s cute and talented mouth making a meal of her marehood, while she attended to the veritable and delectable cider fountain that was Babs.

Pumpkin shook her head and clapped her cheeks. This was no time to get swept up in a fantasy, she was on the clock and her stars’ little post-coital face-sitting was assuredly getting stale to her audience. “Now, then what do my little perverts want to see next?”

[-0r4cl3 has left the stream
-laughter_is_the_best_euthanisia has been reinstated as stream moderator
-racial_ghoul said: stfu n00b
-swallowmensundies_1842 said: grndy is disappointy, nt enuf of grlyboy deepthrowting pwerfilly strpon. grndy want mun-e back
-not_tom_but_still_a_riddle said: I am an exit but occasionally an entrance. I’m always dropping but oddly retentive. What am I? ………………….*Anal* Make it happen.
-depth_stroke said: ushuld make her peg that little cuck
-theliteralbatman said: do u understand how hard it is to type “let’s see her top him” with bat wings for fingers? Well, that.
-gettin_some_braniac said: click here to meet hot singles in your area]

Pumpkin did a double take at the chat as it was overtaken by swaths of her fetish-hungry followers demanding a solid pegging. Maybe it was her imagination, but for a second, something seemed off. Whatever it was, she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She had a chat room full of paying perverts and an expectant aunt to appease.

“Oh, Babsy~♪” Pumpkin called, but to no avail. Babs was entirely to focused with her riding of the the younger Cake siblings face. “Babsy? Helloooo? Over here! Hey, listen!”

Pumpkin huffed in annoyance. Babs was so lost in her own world that the director’s instructions were falling on deaf ears, and Pumpkin couldn’t have that. She opened a sub-menu seeking a suitable tool for reprisal when her eyes fell across an option labeled magic pulse cannon. All she had to was line up the reticle, hit enter and...

POW!

To Pumpkin’s surprise as much as Babs and Pound’s, the engrossed heroine was sent rocketing off of Pound’s muzzle and into the cell wall by a violent wave of purple energy. Needless to say, Babs was less than pleased.

“What’s the big idea you little brat? You tryin’ to piss me off?” Babs spat, picking herself off the ground.

Looking down her nose at the heroine, Pumpkin said “You left me no choice, you weren’t paying attention.”

“Well, you’ve got it now.”

“Great to hear, babe, because it’s time to move this along and I’ve got a rather unconventional order from our lovely audience to fill.”

Babs met Pumpkin’s proposition with a cocked eyebrow. “Unconventional?”

“Yes, and I think you’ll find it to be more your speed. But before I allow you to get into it, you’ll need this.” Pumpkin’s horn shimmered as she focused magic on the cart and summoned a particular strap-on dildo from the menagerie. It was a purple affair purple decorated with glowing green runes; magic. Babs snorted at the offering, seeing it as repulsive.

“What’s the matter, Babsy? You don’t like the color or something? You do know how to use one of those, right? Or is Twist the one who brings the thunder in the boudoir?”

Babs silently snatched the strap-on out of Pumpkin’s control, refusing to dignify the little tramp with so much as a scowl. With a huff she began to affix the straps around her waist and shivered as a surge of magic sent tingles up her spine. Babs had always hated the way magic affected her Kryptonian biology.

Sure, she could tank her way through lesser incantations like they were nothing, but that didn’t change the fact that even using common magitech appliances filled her with a sense of disgust. And yet here she was affixing one of those very appliances to her body.

“Now I should tell you one more thing about that particular strap-on: it’s been specially enchanted to directly to the user’s brain, almost like a real cock. Why don’t you try it out for yourself?”

Powerfilly felt something poke her belly and looked down to spy a small bottle of lubricant suspended by Pumpkin’s telekinesis. Before she could react, the unicorn spilled the bottle’s contents onto the strap-on, making sure cover every inch of it.

Almost instantly, Babs found herself gasping as she tried to cope with the influx of magically induced sensations that began overloading her mind. Cold. Slick. Slimy. Hollow. And it tingled something fierce. Understandably shocked and bewildered from the experience, Babs stumbled and fell on her ass, much to Pumpkin’s amusement.

“Feels hella amazing, doesn’t it?” The unicorn purred while telekinetically massaging the lube onto the dildo, further exciting Babs who squirmed and crossed her legs as she was overwhelmed by the the strange pleasure. “Just imagine what his tight little asshole will feel like once you’re inside him.”

Babs felt herself moisten as her eyes trailed back to Pound. She didn’t want to give Pumpkin the satisfaction of knowing she’d been led to temptation, but...

“I can see it all over your face, you totally want a piece. Go on, take him for a test rut.”

Again Babs said and did nothing. It seemed absurd that after being groped, violated and stained with a stallion’s seed that the act of topping Pound would be the thing she considered to be the ultimate betrayal to Twist. And yet, that’s exactly what this was, the final nail. As Twist was the first, last and only mare Babs intended to love, she’d always viewed strap-on play as special between them.

The enchanted dildo wasn’t doing much to help Babs’ mindset either. All she could think of was how much better intimacy with her missus would become with such a thing at her disposal, but then reality set in intent on souring her epiphany. Having to experience that level of closeness with Pound of all ponies… Babs shuddered. She somehow felt dirtier than she had when lapping up Pound’s cum.

Unaware of starlet’s inner turmoil, Pumpkin found herself growing annoyed and impatient at the Kryptonian’s hesitance. but she couldn’t afford to let that her demeanor falter on camera. “Why so nervous? I’ve seen you top the hell out out of Twist. This won’t be any different… well, he might be a bit looser than you’re used to, but he should be a fun fuck all the same. Now get to it, hun. My audience is expecting a good pegging for a bad little boy. Or maybe you’re suggesting that I give them a better show instead?” Pumpkin thumbed the beacon, garnering immediate compliance from her soon-to-be-super-servant.

“F-Fuck off, I’m moving, just… just gimme a sec.” Babs grabbed Pound by the waist and not-so-gently flipped him to a more mountable position on his knees and elbows. Having spent the better portion of the morning finger fucking and groping this particular ass she had to admit that it was damn cute given how perfectly it fit his effeminate frame.

“You’re doin’ this for Twist… you’re doin’ this for Twist…” she chanted to herself. Babs gave a nervous swallow as she lined her faux phallus with Pound’s hole. “All for Twist’s sake… all for Twist…” She felt her pussy throb as a magically induced surge relayed the warmth and tightness of the colt’s puckered up boypussy to her brain. “Tw-Twist… *huff*... Twist…” It was almost like he was inviting her in and while a bit hesitant, it was an offer she accepted with a cautious budge of the hips.

Slow but eager strokes to start. She made sure to keep it shallow in order to better process this strange development. She hadn’t expected his ass to be so… wet. Or inviting for that matter. Whenever she tried backdoor play with Twist there tended to be some resistance, but Pound was practically sucking her in.

“Cake’s sake, Babsy.” called Pumpkin, “He isn’t as fragile as Twist. Fuck that tight ass like you actually mean it; he can take it.”

Babs would soon find out that Pumpkin was absolutely right. Placing her hands on his lower back for leverage, she felt the colt attempt to tense up only to have his paralytic infliction render him placid. She started to slide herself in finding that she was met with minimal resistance watching and feeling inch after inch of the strap-on vanish inside him.

Having gone all the way to the hilt, Babs stopped, wincing while she adjusted to her pseudo member. The pulsing warmth, the clenching. This was a stallion’s pleasure, incredible. She’d always enjoyed being the dominant one in the sack, but being able to feel her partner squeeze and spasm in response to her every movement, the role was absolutely intoxicating.

Taking Pound firmly by the waist, she drew her hips back, eliciting a throaty whine from her co-star. His moans were honey on her ears, and speaking of ears…

Pound felt a scream catch in his throat as Babs imparted a soft love bite on his ear. Soft for a Kryptonian anyhow. Her teeth dug in like a slimy vice, compacting his ear between pain and ecstasy as she licked and nibbled at him. Did that Twist girl have to go through this every

It quickly became clear that Powerfilly was no longer capable of holding her powers back as each thrust she imparted into him became rougher and more violent than the last. If it weren’t for Babs’ absurdly powerful arms wrapped around his chest and belly, he would’ve been launched into the wall at neck breaking speed.

*Wham*

Pound cried out, his ass reflexively clenching around the strap-on as it was slammed home. He’d taken it in the ass many times before by the but never like this. Normally it was him on top setting the pace, in total control of the stallion. He could decide when and how hard they came if even at all and he loved it. But here—

*Wham*

—here he was subject to the mercy of a mare with everything on the line and no control of her own actions. It wouldn’t be unthinkable for her to fuck him to death. A possibility slowly turning reality as Powerful forearms dug into his neck, making it quite difficult to breathe.

*Wham*

Due to their closeness he felt her robust, powerful frame more completely now. Felt the warm sweat from her coat drizzle and drip down his back. Felt the muscles from her chiseled midsection flex and contract in rhythm with each punishing ass pounding she imparted on him.
As the heroine’s inequinely powerful grip tightened around his throat, he hissed out a pathetic gasp. She was intentionally choking him, his darkening vision a testament to this fact.

He glanced over at his sister who was shamelessly toying her pussy to the edge of climax and stopping. He always did love the adorable face she made right before she came and that held true even in the aftermath of her betrayal. If there was anything to be thankful for, it was that the pounding he’d been receiving was letting him see that cute face contorted in rapture. And then right as his sister came, so did he.

The oxygen deprivation combined with the insanely tight grip around his cock gave way to an orgasm so mighty it brought the colt to literal tears as it was geysered out of him. A moment later he finally blacked out, wondering if this is was what dying felt like.

Babs felt the final cries of Pound’s rager as it was waned back to flaccidity, finally pacified by orgasm. It really was a wonder that he’d managed to last as long as he did with her, but his consciousness bowing out didn’t change the facts: He might’ve been done, but she sure as sugar cookies was not. “J-Just a little more,” His body was still reacting quite nicely to her presence despite the fact that her thrusts were becoming more savage as the Kryptonian chased her own orgasm. “Almost… almost… huff… ahn…. Yes, there it… fuck!”

It was as she was reeling from her own climax that Babs noticed something that seemed slightly off even in the given circumstances: Pound’s cum and Pumpkin’s own juices cascading down their respective sides of the glass cell door. A seemingly innocuous observation, but her intuition told her that there was something more to it.

Tossing Pound aside like a used up ragdoll, Babs set her sights on Pumpkin and the cell door. It was a long shot, but if her theory was right, she’d be able to save Twist and capture Pumpkin’s pompous plot. But if she guessed wrong… she shook the thought from her head. Twist’s life was on the line here, she couldn’t afford to be wrong. Clenching her trembling fists, Babs summoned all the false confidence she could muster and approached Pumpkin who crossed her arms and frowned.

“Bored with him already?” Pumpkin asked, “You’ve barely made him cum four times.”

“Well, this perverted little shit ain’t exactly to my tastes. But you on the other hand…” Babs looked Pumpkin from head to toe. “You are looking more appetizing by the second.”

“Aw, Babsy, I’m flattered, but also not on the menu. Although if you’re a good little filly and you finish I might just let you have a nibble, once you’re good and broken of course.”

“That’s too bad, because I’m the kinda girl who really likes her dessert and I gotta tell you…” Babs casually swept a finger across the glass, even going so far as to draw small circles. “...I could really go for a slice of ‘Pumpkin Cake’ right about now.”

It took Pumpkin a moment to process what Babs had done and why it was wrong. It took even less time for the blood drain from her face. “Wait, it can’t be—” Pumpkin’s words were drowned as the sound and spray of shattering glass forced her to turn away and guard her face from the incoming hail of shards. “That’s impossible!” She cried, unsteadily backpedaling. “The deflection spell— gaahk!” Faster than Pumpkin could perceive, Babs had seized her by the throat and chokeslammed her with such force that it knocked the wind from her lungs and the distress beacon from her hands.

“Guess your fancy magic ain’t as reliable as you thought, huh?” Babs chided, kicking Pumpkin over onto her belly.

“Fuck you…I’ll get you back for this… I’ll make you pay!” The unicorn’s threats fell on amused ears as her hands were forced behind her back and into a pair of shackles Babs grabbed from the cell. With Pumpkin’s ability to resist effectively cut in half, Babs secured her legs in a similar fashion and welded the two pairs of restraints with her heat vision, effectively hogtying her former captor.

Babs smiled as she watched Pumpkin curse and squirm fruitlessly against her shackles. She wanted to enjoy being on the other side of this particular predicament just a little while longer, but a particularly nasty remark involving Twist, four stallions and improper use of an electric egg-beater spurred the heroine back into vindictiveness.

Babs squat down, seizing Pumpkin by the mane so she could look the pestilent little mare in the eyes. “You got quite a colorful vocabulary, but I’ve heard about all I can take from you. Why don’t we put that dirty mouth of yours to work? C’mere.”

Babs licked her lips and leaned in stealing a kiss from Pumpkin who sought to retaliate by biting the living sin out of the older mare’s lower lip. Of course without the magic runes inhibiting her strength, all Babs could feel was a slight tickle where most normal ponies would have had their lips chewed clean off.

“Mmm, feisty little bitch, aren’t you?” Babs asked as she pulled away from the kiss, her lip no worse for the wear. “That’s good. Getting payback wouldn’t be nearly as fun if you weren’t gonna fight back.” Babs’ hands were en route to Pumpkin’s waistline and beyond when an all but forgotten voice called out from behind, stopping her mid-assault.

“Stop!”

Both Babs and Pumpkin turned their attention to bruised and beaten form of Pound who was leaned up against a wall for support.

“Stop,” he repeated, stumbling forward on pained and unsteady legs. “As much as I’d love to see where this is going, I’m going to need you to step away from my sister. I’ll take it from here.”

“Oh, is that right?” Babs scoffed as she stood to properly address the pathetic mess of a colt who was clearly struggling to even stand. “And what makes you think you ain’t about to join your sis for this nice little grudge fuck we got goin’ here?”

“Because while you were so busy challenging me for the right to get even with my sister, I went ahead and pressed this.” Pound held up the small beacon that had formerly been in his sister’s possession and sure as sin, the button that Babs had been dreading up till this moment was flashing red.

“Dammit, you despicable little shit! You’re scum!”

“And you’re wasting time. I’d say you have less than seven minutes before my sister’s goons make their way into your marefriend’s home and even less time before they get started on her.”

“Then that just means I have to wrap this up quick—”

“You don’t have the time to catch me and save your marefriend.” Pound’s voice was uncharacteristically stern as he spoke, so much so that he actually struck a chord within Babs. “Look, while I don’t intend to stick around for the rest of this circus, I can guarantee that Pumpkin will still be here for at least the next half an hour or so, although she might be a little worse for the wear. You can believe that if nothing else.”

Babs grit her teeth. She’d planned on hauling in both of the twins at once, but now she wasn’t sure if she could effectively detain Pound and still make it in time to save Twist. “Dammit,” She finally conceded. “This ain’t over.” An instant later there was a gaping hole in the ceiling leaving only the twins.

“Is it ever?” Finally alone, Pound turned his undivided attention to Pumpkin who was still struggling to free herself from the repurposed manacles to no avail. He should’ve felt rage and indignation, should’ve been consumed by violent urges and driven to the depths of depravity, and yet he felt eerily placid as his eyes fell upon her. No anger. No murderous impulse. No desire to hate-fuck. Just pity and disappointment.

“Hmm… where do we go from here?” Pound mused to himself.

Pumpkin asked. “Am I to receive my comeuppance for betraying you?”

Pound scratched a patch of dried cum from his chin. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Oooh, are you gonna take advantage of poor, helpless lil’ ole’ me?” Pumpkin wiggled her backside invitingly. “It’s not like there’s much I could do to resist you from this position. Who knows what kinky and perilous punishments you’ve got brewing in that fucked up little mind of yours? I’m getting excited just thinking about it!”

Pound watched his sister’s plump ass jiggle as her hips swayed, and yet in spite of his usually unquenchable appetites, he didn’t feel even remotely tempted. “Nah, not interested,” he declined much to his sister’s confusion. “Besides, even if Powerfilly hadn’t just fucked my libido to death, screwing your brains out would hardly teach a pervert like you a lesson.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not worth a shot~♥” Pumpkin blew a kiss and winked.

Pound shook his head, pitying his slightly older sister. “Like I said, not interested.”

“That’s disappointing.” Pumpkin pouted. With a sigh, she resigned herself to her fate. “Well, are you going to torture me or just kill me outright? I only ask because I’d like to make peace with myself should you choose the latter.”

“Relax, I’m not going to harm you, much less kill you. You might be a rotten little bitch, but you’re still my sister, even if you do deserve to have pins driven into each of your finger joints.”

“So if you’re not going to kill me and you’re not going have your way with me, then how pray tell do you intend on settling this?”

“By leaving you just like that for the next, mmm… twenty minutes or so.”

Pumpkin scrunched up her eyebrow in confusion. “What?”

“The way I see it, Powerfilly’s probably contacting the Justice League about this place as we speak. And by the same token, Aunt Pinkie was watching the stream and has probably dispatched a goon squad to salvage whatever’s left of this catastrophe. I wonder where you’ll end up after tonight? Will you rot in a maximum security cell in Arkham or will you become another toy in Auntie’s personal playroom?”

Pumpkin snorted in annoyance. “What about you? They’ll be looking for you too, you know and if Auntie catches you it’ll be ten times worse than whatever she’s going to do to me.”

“That’s true, but I’ll worry about that in ten minutes. For the time being, there’s something I’ve been dying to do all evening, but I never really got the chance and I couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to get it out of my system.”

“And what’s that?”

Pound smiled and wordlessly strolled back into the cell, leaving Pumpkin to speculate just what Pound had in store for her. She wouldn’t have to wonder long though because not even a moment later Pound came strolling back into view, cradling something in his arms.

Clonk.

Pumpkin felt her heart drop as Pound dropped a frighteningly familiar metallic monstrosity of a didlo to the floor.

“You remember this thing, right? The specially made dildo I was really, really looking forward to trying out on Powerfilly? Well, as you can see, there’s no Powerfilly around at the moment, but I guess you’ll make you’ll make a good first test subject, heh, heh, heh...”

“Um, Pound, maybe we could talk about this. Pound? Pound? Pooooouund!”

Gotham Harbor

An uncomfortable silence hung over the small corner office of Gotham Harbor’s Warehouse #69. The office had once been the headquarters of a Star Smooched Seaproduce cannery but was more recently repurposed into a private viewing room for a very special livestream. However, the passing broadcast from the large computer monitor was so vexing that it stunned the room’s residents—two very smartly dressed unicorn stallions and an older mare in a purple blazer and clown-face make-up—into a stupefied silence. A silence that wasn’t destined to last.

“What… what in Equestria was that!?” Squawked Flim, the babyfaced stallion.

“Ms. Pinkamena, we want an explanation!” Demanded Flam, the more mustachioed of the brothers.

“And we want it now!”

Even in the face of her investors’ point-blank fury, Pinkamena found herself quite distracted by the video feed of her nephew undertaking the herculean task of forcing an impossibly large dildo into his defenseless sister’s backside. It certainly wasn’t the desired outcome of the evening, but that didn’t make it any less entertaining.

“Ms. Pinkamena!” The furious Flim-Flams shrieked in stereo, jerking Pinkie’s attention from the screen.

“We paid you good money and provided you with a state-of-the-art facility to ensure this whole affair went off without a hitch and what do we have to show for it? Nothing!”

“Now, now, boys.” Pinkie started as calmly as she could, “I wouldn’t say you have nothing, I mean you did get a pretty funny story out of the deal, right?” Pinkie joked in an effort to diffuse the situation. However, the Flim Flams were having none of it.

“Do you have any idea how much a magitech touchscreen of that complexity costs to repair?” asked Flim.

“Not to mention the disability pay and the hush money we’re going to have to shell out for that security guard your imbecilic nephew poisoned!” Flam bellowed.

“And Celestia help us if the authorities find that specially purposed holding cell. I can’t even begin to fathom how much it’s going to take to bribe them into turning a blind eye especially now that the Justice League’s involved.”

“Boys, boys, why so serious? Let’s take it down a notch. Tell you what,” Pinkie grabbed a plate of cookies from the computer desk. “Before I came here, I bought some fresh milk and baked a batch of double-chocolate and mousse cookies so let’s just calm down and—”

“C-Cookies!?” Flam was quick to slap the plate of pastries clean out of Pinkie Pie’s hands. “We don’t want your damn cookies, we want a return on our investment!”

“Plus interest!”

“I feel like thirty percent is fair, what say you brother?”

Flam snorted and twirled his mustache. “It’s a fair start.”

“Hmm, I dunno, thirty percent on top of everything you lost? Seems a bit steep, don’t you think?” Pinkie paused to wolf down one of the cookies she’d managed to save from Flam’s passing outburst. “Mmm… so good… now, I know this might sound crazy, but how about we renegotiate the terms a bit and just throwing this out there: I allow the two of you to walk out of here with your lives. Hell, I’m feeling generous, all your limbs intact as well?”

“Are you threatening us?”

“No, hun, I’m simply offering an ultimatum, which if declined will result in the untimely and tragic loss of my valued business partners.”

“You’re in no position to make demands, much less threats,” Flam snorted.

Pinkie frowned. “I’m not? How do you figure?”

Flim chuckled, “We had a feeling that things might turn out this way, so we took out a little ‘insurance policy’. Looks like our caution was well founded.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Said Pinkie, “Just to be clear, you’re not talking about all those armed goons outside, are you?”

The brother’s exchanged confused glances. “You… you knew about them?” Asked Flam.

“You big sillies, I had them taken out the moment you stepped in my office.” Pinkie snorted out a chuckle and changed the feed on the monitor. The broadcast showed dozens of armed stallions in full-blown riot-gear strewn about the dockyard like action figures caught in a violent foal’s wrath. Amidst the carnage stood a lone amazonian figure with glowing red eyes whom the brothers eventually recognized as the heroine Supermare, who’d reportedly gone missing in action two months ago.

“Now I, on the other hand, am not in the business of issuing empty threats.” With a snap of her fingers, the ceiling exploded and before either of the brothers could process what was going on, Flim found himself being choked to death three feet off the ground while the blade of a shuriken pressed against Flam’s neck so deeply that it had drew small trickle of blood.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with Superfilly and Mare-Do-Well?”

“Ghk…” Flim clawed at the super-equinely powerful hand around his throat, but for all his struggling, the vice-like grip only tightened. Flam on the otherhand made no effort to resist his captor for fear that the slightest provocation would result in an immediately slit throat.

“I understand that the four of you have something of a history together and from what I gather it’s not exactly pleasant. If there’s one thing I’ve learned after all of the time I’ve spent breaking meta-equines, it’s that no matter how thoroughly you brainwash somepony, you can never truly rid them of their grudges. It’s almost like the more you try to wipe them away, the more ingrained those grudges become.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking, ‘Pinkie, don’t those girls have a grudge against you too’? Of course they do! But come on, where’s the fun in owning a dog that’ll never bite? For example, you’d think my word is the only thing keeping those two from wasting you outright, but the truth is I have no idea if they’ll even wait for me to give the order.”

As though to prove her point, the snapping and cracking of bones resonated from the neck of Flim whose face had turned a deep shade of purple visible under his cream coat.

“Oh, and there goes Superfilly.” Pinkie turned her predatory gaze on Flam, “Luckily for you, Mare-Do-Well’s the patient sort, but I wonder how long before she gets fed up and decides to just end you. Now, I could prevent your brother’s head from being popped off like a cider cork, but before that, I’m going to need you to agree to some terms. Sound fair?”

“Yes! For the love of Luna, whatever you want, just don’t let them kill us!”

“Are you sure? You haven’t even heard my conditions—”

“We’ll do anything, just stop them, please!”

“Very well.” Pinkie rummaged through her pockets and produced a remote control. With the flick of a switch, the studs on Superfilly’s collar slid open, revealing several glowing green gemstones. For a moment it seemed as though the Kryptonian’s grip would remain ironclad, but eventually she weakened and collapsed to her knees, simultaneously releasing Flam who hit the floor unconscious. “Mare-Do-Well, if you’d be so kind?”

Mare-Do-Well, not wanting to suffer a similar reprisal, eased her dagger out of Flam’s neck and moved to aid her weakened comrade back to her feet.

“Now about those terms you were so quick to agree to.” Pinkie reached into the pocket of her blazer and tossed two metallic dog collars at Flam’s feet. “Put these on.”

Flam was quick to comply, affixing his own collar quite snugly before helping his severely disoriented brother with his. “So these collars, I take it they’re meant to keep us in line?”

Pinkie frowned and tilted her head, puzzled. “Collars? Oh, right, you meant the bomb you just strapped around your neck, silly me.” She playfully bopped herself in the forehead.

“B-Bombs!?”

“Yeah, and I uh, wouldn’t fumble around with them so much if I were you. There’s some pretty volatile stuff in there and the detonator is suuuper sensitive. Plus I had just had this jacket dry cleaned. Do you have any idea how much it costs to get brain matter out of satyr wool? Arm and a fucking hoof. Thank goodness you’re about sign over all of your properties and financial assets.”

“Is that what you’re after? Holding our lives for ransom in exchange for our fortune?”
Again Pinkie frowned. “‘In exchange’? You say that like the collars can be removed.”

“There’s no way remove them!?”

“Well, I guess there is one way to remove the collars without setting them off, but I’m not sure you’d like it. How do you feel about decapitation?”

The unmistakable aura of horror and despair resonating from Flam said everything his incapacitated sibling couldn’t.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.” Spurred by pity, Pinkie attempted to comfort him by draping an arm over his shoulder. “Hey, hey, don’t fret, hun. I’m going to let you go return to your normal lives. The only difference will be that now I own you and everything you’ve ever worked for. That won’t be a problem for you will it?”

“No… no, Ms. Pie, that’s perfectly reasonable.”

“Excellent, so glad you feel that way. Now then…” Pinkie loosened and even popped off a few buttons from his dress shirt. “How about we celebrate the new terms of our partnership? I was hoping to celebrate the new terms of our partnership over some milk and cookies, but thanks to your rude brother I’m afraid the only thing I can offer is a nice helping of ‘milf and nookie’. I trust that’s all right?”

With a chuckle, she waved the stallion off and returned to the fallen plate of cookies hoping to find another that she could salvage. Satisfied to have found an intact pastry, she turned around only to find Flam now completely nude, the sight of his flabby lovehandles filling her with a powerful desire to gag.

“Ummm… what are you doing?”

Flam looked about as confused as Pinkie. “I… I thought you wanted to… y’know…”

“You didn’t think I was serious did you?”

“But you—”

“Have both a very broad sense of humor and higher standards than… well, look at yourself.”
Flam’s cheeks flushed a particularly vivid scarlet from sheer humiliation. In an attempt to regain at least a sliver of his shredded dignity he bent down to retrieve his suit, but found his efforts halted by the most unreasonable of demands.

“Oh, no, no. Leave your clothes where they are, you lost those fair and square.”

“Wh-What!? You expect me to go outside like this? That’s absurd!”

“Well tough, that’s my suit now. Now beat it before I make future tie-shopping ventures much more difficult for you, if you catch my drift.” Pinkie’s threat came with a complimentary display of power as she teased her finger along the buttons of her reprisal remote.

“And make sure you take your toy soldiers with you when you go. You’ve got thirty minutes starting… now.” Before she’d even finished her sentence, Flim was already bolting out the warehouse, dragging his brother along by the leg.

“Honestly, forcing me to enslave my business partners. I thought Pumpkin was supposed to be the competent one. How hard can it be to trap one superpowered bimbo behind an enchanted sheet of glass and force her to rape your brother to death?” Sighing, Pinkie pulled a wooden bat from under her jacket and gave it a few practice swings before turning her attention on the computer. “Once I get my hands on that little fuck-up, I’m gonna—”

Pinkie was in the midst of winding up a mighty swing, when a particular string of messages in the computer’s chat-window caught her eye:

[-0r4cl3 has joined the stream
-0r4cl3 has been promoted to stream moderator
-0r4cl3 said: Think you’re in control? Watch this.
-0r4cl3 has left the stream
-laughter_is_the_best_euthanisia has been reinstated as stream moderator
-racial_ghoul said: stfu n00b
-swallowmensundies1842 said: grndy is disappointy, nt enuf of grlyboy deepthrowting pwerfilly strpon. grndy want mun-e back]

“—bake the little shit a cake for flushing out a rat.” Setting the bat aside, Pinkie studied the username until she had a solid translation. “‘Oracle’, huh? I don’t recall inviting you to this little soiree much less giving you permission to run my show. Let’s see who you are...” Clicking the link, Pinkie was quickly disappointed to find that it was dead end.

“Deactivated account, huh? We’ll see about that. Mare-Do-Well, sweetie? You’re much better with computers than I am, right? Mind putting some of those hacking skills to work for your dear Aunt Pinkie?”

The masked mare simply nodded and took her place at the keyboard where furiously-fast fingers began hammering out various commands and searches, quickly yielding scores of results. Pinkie’s lips curled up into a particularly sadistic grin upon recognizing the name of a certain police commissioner's daughter and a former ‘Bat’ whose wings she’d clipped herself long ago.

“Alrighty then, ‘Oracle’, since you’re so insistent on being part of the show I’ll give you the honor of starring in my next broadcast. I’d tell you to break a leg, but that would be redundant, wouldn’t it Batfilly?”

Will Powerfilly make it to Manehattan in time to save her beloved Twist? Will Pound seek out revenge on his aunt who betrayed him and left him for dead? Who is the mysterious ‘Oracle5’ and what hope do they have of opposing the forces of the diabolical Pinkamena Pie? Find out next time, in Issue #70 of Fall of Equestria: Abandon All Hope!