The One Who Watches

by Flash Notion

First published

Rarity takes care of a few 'needs'. Meanwhile, a certain somepony watches...

Rarity takes care of a few 'needs'. Meanwhile, a certain somepony watches...

Written slap-dash for Saucy's first prompt.

Chapter 1

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I held in a sigh as the last customer trotted over to the register. Just one more, I told myself. One more, and then, ooh, and then it's off to the bridle and saddle and bit, to that sweet release and maybe, just mayhaps, a little something more.

I swiftly shook my head to clear away those stray wisps of thought, if only for a moment. The day was not quite over yet. Until the last customer left, my devotion to them and their couture would remain identical.

It's just another moment, Rarity...

And yet I could scarcely hold myself together. I found my hooves leaping across the floorboards, carrying me through the boutique like some anxious and abruptly active arachnid. The stirring had begun already, a hunger unsatisfied for days- no no no, weeks now. Between the world-saving and shop-running and school... schooling... Amongst all I was called to do, it had been too long since I last had any moments to myself.

But tonight... oh, tonight, I was free. My dear sweet Sweetie was off and away for once, and- dare I think it? Does it make me a bad sister? - She was not my problem.

And as the last pony meandered from the register, the beating of my hoofsteps going somehow unnoticed, I allowed my excitement to rise. I rushed around, shoving them towards the exit, perhaps a tad rudely, but the ceaseless sensation stream from myself was far more important. Apologies could be made at a later date. This was something that could not be rescheduled.

And with the shop empty, the door locked, the lights out, it was time.

I ran for the stairs like an excited school-filly, my mind a mish-mash of fantasies, each more sordid than the last. And I prayed, perhaps unnecessarily, for an even more sordid reality.

And what awaited me in my bedroom but just that! My imported horseshoes thrown to the corner, my carefully coiffed mane already coming undone. I practically threw myself onto the equally expensive sheets. With fumbling magic I reached for a box nearby- er, no, the one under the bed. There inside, He lay.

Oh, I call it a “He”, but somehow that seems an inadequate sobriquet for such a stupendous sample of stallion suppleness. Not even a proper stallion, either, but something else. Something not to be found inside Equestria, mostly.

I dropped the box and spread my hind legs, moving Him into position. Oh- oh! That first touch, always such a surprise. And this time, it felt even more electric! I'd gone far too long without this.

I pushed, slowly, the soft shaft sliding across my lips. My hooves slithered under my belly to my nipples, flicking over them not-quite-so gently. Oh, Celestia, I needed this...

I allowed another precious few moments of buildup, slathering my own filthy juices around until it felt like my entire hindquarters had been soaked. And now I was sweating, the sheets already damp, and my back slightly itchy.

I didn't care.

I didn't, because I knew he was there. Not “He”, not that false facsimile scraping my nethers and- admittedly- dragging me up that steep cliff. No, he, my admirer. He'd been watching me for some time. It was cute- he thought I didn't know. He thought himself clever. He thought his nighttime escapades were his dirty little secret, his own guilty pleasure.

Oh, it was far from cute at first. A peeping tom! In Ponyville! The scandal of it all. I was embarrassed, outraged- Why, I had thrown His predecessor with great force at the offender. And then immediately made a mad dash to my front lawn, removing the toy from potential prying eyes.

As I recalled that day, I parted my lips and moaned as His tip found its way in. I could feel every ridge, every line in the silicone. The wide spiral seemed to practically drill into my very core!

The next day I'd resolved to simply block my window, and hopefully catch the wanking wanker if he dared show his muzzle again. That was my plan.

Until, by chance, I met with Twilight at the market. And with her, darling Spike... with an astoundingly apropos abrasion between his not-so innocent eyes! He claimed to have bumped his head on a shelf, but the truth was far more plain. It was startling to know what deviancy he hid. And more startling still to realize that I liked it.

Spike was far from a baby any longer. For a dragon he was small, true. But he was a grown pony in every other way- in mind, in heart, in years of life. If only he could bend his courage towards actually acting on his amorous ambitions during the daylight hours. A spot of tea, a candlelit meal. Then, perhaps, we retire to this very room, and-

Oh!

I squeaked and smiled dully, feeling the incredibly realistic intrusion of the knot, the scales around it rubbing my every surface. My hips shook and rose, pushing my face into the blankets, the sweet smell of laundry soaps nearly overpowered by the cloying stench of sensuality. I breathed deeply the smell of sex, washing away the past. It hardly mattered.

What mattered was that my Spikey Wikey was outside my window, watching. I pictured him, his own massive meat shaft in claw, stroking himself to the performance I staged. I imposed that image on the image of myself, until it was no longer simply a toy that filled my enflamed tunnel, but Spike himself!

The shaft inside me shifted, thrusting further in, the scales around the base grinding into my lips. I gasped, drool seeping from my other lips, which seemed far less important now. He thrust again, the force traveling up my whole body, forcing a small pant! from my mouth. Again. Pant! Again. Pant!

My tail flicked, and then suddenly that shaft began slamming into me, over and over, I- I can't-

Thoughts-

Oh Celestia!

Oh the ridges scraping and spiral twisting and knob throbbing-!

I screamed into the pillows, a perfectly joyful scream of pure ecstasy, and my teeth clenched around the feathery bag.

Grooves and scales and every sensation in Equestria! My whole body shook, my nethers burning-

And one semi-coherent mind-mumble.

Oh, Spike...\

And then, another few thrusts, and quite suddenly that fire flared! I gasped and screamed and it was both at once as the cliff crested and the slope plateaued for just an instant, blazing sensation, sinful and wholly lovely filling my every part of being! And as it calmed, ever so slightly, and I could at least remember my own name, I smiled.

I collapsed onto the bed, spent. He remained firmly lodged inside of me, filling, wonderful.

A swamp of liquid squished under me as a lay there. The sweat and juices slowly cooled. My skin tingled- in certain spots, it still felt on fire. You overdid it, Rarity, I mused.

My eyes shifted, and I glanced discreetly out the window. A shadow was all I could see- a small shadow, clinging to a branch with one claw. My satisfied smile grew.

He thought he was clever and crafty. He thought that he was the one who was in danger of being caught. He thought he had to stay hidden.

But this was my night. This was the thrill that I chased. With Spike watching, oh, that was a bonus. I wonderful, wonderful bonus, I thought.


Spike waited another few minutes, then dropped out of the tree. He sighed and kicked a rock.

He didn't get it. He'd just been walking by, a short moonlight stroll with Owloysius, on that night so long ago. And he'd heard something coming from Rarity's boutique- the awful sound of a struggle. He tried to get in, to help, but the door was locked. He heard the sounds coming from the second floor, so he'd climbed the tree. But before he could see anything, something had hit him, and he'd fallen-

He'd fallen into a bush. And from the bush he saw Rarity dart outside, looking upset and ruffled, and grab something off the ground. After that, everything got quiet.

The next day he fibbed about the mark on his head. Rarity seemed fine, and he didn't want Twilight to worry. So he fibbed.

But then on another night, another stroll, he heard it again!

So he climbed the tree again, and this time he was able to see inside. But what he was seeing he couldn't figure out. Twilight's reference books on pony anatomy hardly helped, either, when he looked through them.

He kept coming back, watching, trying to understand why Rarity seemed so distressed yet perfectly fine. Whatever was happening involved a lot of grunting and moving around on her bed- he just didn't get it.

Maybe it was time to ask Twilight about it. He yawned.

Tomorrow.