> The Wee Hours > by WishyWish > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > Consummate Professional > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Misty. Sweetie Belle once knew a filly by that name. Well, half a dozen of them really. There were even four or five who bore at least one of the parts of her own. Sweetie Raindrop, Sweetie Sunbeam, Sweetie Starbird. Dapple Belle, Genie Belle, Lily Belle. Sweetie Misty Belle. Sweetie Belle instinctively covered the microphone to block her amused snort. She had deactivated the it nearly three minutes ago when she signed off and that automatically took care of the red glow of the ‘on air’ sign above the door, but she was a consummate professional. Off or on, she wouldn’t dare allow the tiniest unplanned sound find its way to the campus airwaves. At least, that was her goal one day. To be a consummate professional. Between the slats of the window blinds was a misty world. Hot and sticky after days of August rain, the air was a cloying second skin, and her protection from it came only in the form of an oscillating desk fan that hummed patiently along with the overhead lights of the broadcast booth. It was dark out, as it ought to have been, for her shift began in the late hours and ended in the wee ones. Others might have thought it inconvenient, but she was used to it by now. This was her time, her hour, and though a few scattered lights still came from the dorms across the courtyard, hers was the only one that could be counted on to be there every time. Beyond the campus lay Manehattan - the city that never slept. One day, Sweetie Belle would be a voice in the night for them all. As she futzed with the last few records of the evening, her ear swiveled in the direction of the door opening and shutting in the hall. She smirked. “Moony? Change your mind about being sick?” Sweetie Belle called. “You’re too late, I handled everything without you, so you can go head back to whats-his-name.” “What is his name indeed darling,” a familiar voice that definitely did not belong to Sweetie Belle’s roommate and broadcast partner replied. “Inquiring minds want to know.” Sweetie Belle stiffened. She turned, and in the doorway cast her eyes upon a middle-aged mare in a burgundy trench coat and matching fedora, her collar turned up far to keep out the rain. About her neck was a ribbon that matched her eyes, and at her chest a brooch in the shape of a lilac sprig. Sweetie Belle tilted her head. “Rarity?” The fashionista entered in a flourish, her wet coat and hat riding to the rack on a carpet of her magic. She had in one upturned hoof a rectangular box, and the look in her eye was coy. “Aren’t you going to tell me what his name is, dear?” Sweetie Belle found herself stuttering. She was a pony no longer given to feeling out of sorts - it was her job to play it cool, and in that at least she was indeed the consummate professional. Those ponies who could disarm here were far between, but her elder sister had always been among them. She touched a hoof to her chin in thought and spun idly on her stool. “Uh...I dunno, tell the truth. He had a football on his butt so I guess...foot...baller…?” Rarity scrunched her muzzle. “Somepony’s parents deserve a stern talking-to.” Sweetie Belle chuckled dryly. “Sooo...what are you doing here at this hour? It’s not like you to be skulking around a college campus at night. At least so far as I know.” Rarity touched her chest and feigned a wound. “You harm me dear. Did you forget about our dinner date? Here I am trying to run a business halfway across town, barely any time to see my dear little sister who keeps such bizarre hours, and when the opportunity finally presents itself, you ask why?” “The dinner date is tomorrow,” Sweetie Belle returned. Rarity pointed at the wall clock. “It already is tomorrow, dear. No harm in an early start.” Sweetie Belle grinned. In her first year on campus she might have found her sister’s behavior smothering, but they saw entirely too little of one another now, and she had gotten over such childish notions. Time was a gift more valuable than any other, and squandering it was unforgivable. She watched as Rarity cleared a cluttered side table with her magic and set the box down, chattering as she drew from it an assortment of pastries. “Honestly Sweetie Belle, I may have forgiven you for that manecut and those lashes, and I may have come to understand that you have a dream to follow as much as I, but there are some things I will simply never fathom about you young ponies these days. Isn’t that ‘Mooney’ pony your marefriend?” Sweetie Belle spun idly. “Yeah, sure. So?” “So, it doesn’t bother you in the slightest that she’s fornicating with some colt with a football on his behind? Don’t try to tell me she’s not, you implied as much the moment I arrived.” Sweetie Belle’s attention was on a warm turnover with the scent of cherry emanating from it. Her stomach growled, and it occurred to her she hadn’t remembered to bring any snacks to her job for the night. “Eh, it’s no biggie. She’s exploring. That’s what college is for, right?” Rarity rolled her eyes. “If you say so, darling.” Sweetie Belle smirked. “It’s not like that. She knows whose bed she’s coming home to, and I trust her. What’s a little exploring when you trust somepony?” Rarity levitated the targeted turnover in her sister’s direction, and then helped herself to a cheese danish. Speaking between bites was a faux-pas against all the couture world, but alone with her sister, Rarity’s mane came down. “Mm...and how exactly is that working out for you both…?” Sweetie Belle glanced thoughtfully to the empty stool beside her own, but not before helping herself to a huge bite of her turnover. “Really good, actually. We had some issues, but...we’re happy now.” Rarity smiled sweetly. “I’m glad to hear it. Meanwhile, cheers?” With that she levitated forth from her coat a small bottle of apple liqueur, and from the reception room a pair of red plastic cups. These she filled with a measure of the liquid, and passed one to her sister. “It’s not much I know, but I just couldn’t wait another fifteen hours to see you.” Sweetie Belle took the cup and paused, drinking in the scent before the brew until finally partaking of it a tiny sip. This she swished about, savoring the taste before allowing it slip down her throat. “Apple family brand,” she commented confidently. “What gave it away?” Sweetie Belle chuckled. “Oh I dunno, maybe the fact that I grew up in Ponyville and one of my best friends just happens to be an Apple, so I was over there smelling it and tasting the virgin variety like every single year of my fillyhood?” Rarity was swirling her cup between sips. “I can’t put one by my sharp little sister, can I.” Sweetie Belle looked thoughtful. “Did you get that bottle from your special somepony?” The elder sibling’s smile faded. “She and I...haven’t talked about that. I’m busy dear, my career. I have boutiques in six cities now and she’s still...back home. Where she’ll always be.” There was a certain silence, and the sisters made use of it to finish their treats. Sweetie Belle turned back to her records, but broke the verbal armistice as she worked. “You don’t need me to tell you that you’re not getting any younger, Rarity.” “Ouch darling, ouch. If you were any other pony I might take offense to such a brash remark.” “You know what I mean,” Sweetie Belle went on somberly. “And I’ve seen how you two look at each other. How many more holidays and savings of Equestria are you two going to spend together and not talk about it?” Rarity’s voice came to her sister’s ears from behind. “Well now. If I didn’t know any better I’d say my little sister is worried about my love life.” “Well, yeah, actually,” Sweetie Belle readily admitted. “I want you to be happy, you know? Just like you wanted me to be when I got into broadcasting. And I know you’re happy with your dresses and your accessories, but I also know there’s more to life for everypony.” Rarity said nothing. Sweetie Belle ignored the silence, but as she slipped the last 45 in its paper sleeve and set it on the rack, she felt a puff of warm air on the nape of her neck. “Maybe there is something else I want, little one,” Rarity muttered. Sweetie Belle shrank. “...wait...here?” Hooves caressed Sweetie Belle’s flanks, playing with the exposed cutie marks under her tank top. “I did say I couldn’t wait to see you, after all.” The hooves began to explore, and Sweetie Belle, the consummate professional, swallowed. “...y-yeah but--” One white hoof came up to touch Sweetie Belle’s lips. Her programmed response was to fall silent no matter what was on her mind, which she did without hesitation. Rarity’s muzzle drew close, and Sweetie Belle watched the reflection in the booth glass as she felt another breath fall upon her cheek. “But what?” Rarity’s voice was soft. “Don’t you want to see me?” “...s-sure I do…” Rarity leaned in, and her sister felt a certain hardness mash up against her flank. “Don’t you want to see all of me? Even your favorite part? The part I keep under all those long skirts and coats they all think I wear purely for fashion’s sake?” “...mmh…i-it’s just…” “It’s just what?” There was a nip at Sweetie Belle’s ear, and she sucked in a sharp breath with it. “W-we’re...we’re in the broadcast room…” Rarity’s hooves probed. “Didn’t you tell me you’ve done it at parties before?” “S-sure but...you know, upstairs...w-with beds and stuff…close the door and it’s private, unwritten rules...” “Silly, we don’t need a bed. But we do need rules.” Rarity gently paddled her sister’s rump. “Tail.” Sweetie Belle’s tail dutifully rose, allowing access to her tender places. She let out a small sigh, and her sister giggled. “Oh my, you’re really hard up,” Rarity observed as she dipped into her sister’s honey. “Miss Moony must not be doing her job lately. Or maybe it’s something else…” “S-something else…?” Sweetie Belle meeped. Rarity drew close, her voice dropping to a whisper as she traced her sister’s ear with her tongue. “It’s your big sister’s penis, isn’t it. It’s like a Pavlovian response to you, you adore it so much.” Sweetie Belle shook her head stiffly. “N-no, noo…” “Mmhmm,” Rarity insisted as she stabbed her sister’s cutie mark again. “That’s exactly what it is. You’re like a little filly who wants to nurse, darling. Don’t try to tell me that any of your partners in the past have ever made you wet this fast.” To prove her point, Rarity spun her hoof until squishing sounds emitted. Sweetie Belle whimpered, and in an effort not to fall off her stool, leaned forward into her broadcast desk. “Tell me dear,” Rarity cooed. “Tell me the truth.” “...your penis makes me wet sis,” Sweetie Belle whispered with her eyes closed. “Good girl. Does any other penis make you wet so fast?” “...no…” Rarity slipped behind her sister and kicked the stool away. She then pushed the younger unicorn into the booth glass and leaned into her, spire sliding between the cleft of Sweetie Belle’s rump. “You don’t want it though, do you. You need it.” “...I…” “Like all those young colts who tell a girl ‘oh baby, but I need it so much’,” Rarity whispered. “You think they’re just full of hormones, but it’s true, isn’t it? You need it.” “...I...n-need it…” “Who’s your favorite lover, Sweetie Belle?” “...y-you...sis…” “That’s right,” Rarity oozed. “I think my little sister has been a bit uptight lately though. I do listen to your show sometimes, after all. Lately you’ve been turning your jazz night into an excuse to soapbox.” Sweetie Belle couldn’t argue. Her hips were already swaying with her sisters movements, but the prize was still only humping at her bottom. She whined with need. “Do you know what I think you need?” Rarity said as she drew a hoof lightly down her sister’s spine. “I think you need some reminder time. What is sex for, dear?” “...s-sex is f-for…” Sweetie Belle sought out the programmed words, “...f-for my partner’s pleasure…” “That’s right dear. Sex is for making me happy, isn’t it.” Sweetie Belle saw the sparkle of magic. There was a shuffling, and around her rump was smeared a large quantity of something warm, wet, and slick. Her eyes popped open. “A-are you gonna--?” The hoof fell upon her lips again, and she snapped them closed - just like a consummate professional. Her sister’s flared tip was present around the entrance to her anus. “Yes, yes I am dear. I’m going to enjoy myself for a little while. Now, relax your muscles.” “B-but--” “Relaxxx,” Rarity sang as she drew her tongue along the back of Sweetie Belle’s neck. “Be good and relax for me…” Sweetie Belle sighed, and her clenching gave way. The penis lined up with her backside pushed its way in, and she winced as it invaded her bottom. “...o-oww…” “Does it hurt?” Rarity muttered. Sweetie Belle nodded tersely. “...uh-huh…” Rarity began a very slow rhythm consisting of long, deep strokes. “You never did like it very much this way.” “...y-yess...o-ouch…” “Is it okay for big sister to hurt you?” “...yes…” “But you don’t think this room is the right place for big sister to hurt you?” Rarity asked. When her sister did not reply, she changed the question. “Dear, when we disagree, who’s right?” “...y-you are...mmh…” “Yes. And who’s wrong?” “...I-I am…” “Is this room the right place for big sister to hurt you?” Rarity repeated as she inserted herself sharply into her sister. “...a-ahh...y-yes it is...r-right…” Rarity chuckled again and put a hoof on her sister’s head. “That’s my good girl. Big sis is going to have the most lovely orgasm deep inside you. Won’t that be wonderful, when I have some nice tingly afterglow and your rump is all sore?” “Y-yesss,” Sweetie Belle hissed as she was again hilted in the backside by her sister. “P-please hurt me…” “Your over-sensitive college pony friends just don’t know how to treat you,” Rarity mused as she rammed herself in anew. “They worry too much. ‘Oh, I don’t want to hurt her’. ‘Oh, what if I do something she doesn’t like’. That’s why you’ll always be so deeply addicted to your big sister’s throbbing erection. Even when it does something you don’t like.” With that, Rarity kicked up her speed and slammed into Sweetie Belle three times before slowing down again. The younger sister cried out aloud in pain, but choked off her protests by stuffing her own hoof in her mouth. The pumping went on - Sweetie Belle’s big sister taking her in ways no other knew how to. Even Moony, the young unicorn’s current lover who knew her so well, always hesitated just a little in bed. There was always a thin veil; a certain threshold of uncertainty regarding venturing too far off one edge or another. But it wasn’t so with Rarity. She was slow and sensual, but firm like a stallion in her thrusts, her larger yet feminine body draped over her little sister as she pushed home time and again. She was persistent, and never relented when the ground became infirm. Sweetie Belle could feel the brush of a fuzzy scrotum dance about below with every thrust, and tried in vain to still the quivering in her hind legs whenever her elder hilted her. Rarity was everywhere. Her scent. Her soft coat. Her chin atop Sweetie Belle’s head, her nuzzling snout into the younger pony’s wild-style mane. The white forelegs to either side of Sweetie Belle’s head were like cozy prison bars, and the force of the slow thrusts soon brought her so close to the booth glass that her snout mashed against it. “Look into your own eyes dear,” Rarity’s dreamy voice said from somewhere above. “Look at that painted face, those eyelids and that hoop in your ear. So garish, so tacky.” Sweetie Belle’s ears were folded, but she flicked the weighted one and stared at it, then back into her own olive eyes. “...nnh...o-ow...ahh…” “Do you like that look?” “...nnn...y-yeah…” “Show me how much you like that look,” Rarity said on the cusp of a hard thrust. “But appreciate your big sister first.” Sweetie Belle pawed at the glass, using what little leverage she had to push her lips up to the reflection of her big sister’s face. She kissed it, long and affectionately, and nuzzled the wet spot she had created with her cheek. To the tune of rhythmic squishing, she drew down again and began to kiss the reflection of her own snout, her lips favoring the cold glass. “Good...good…” Rarity whispered. Her words became grunting, and instinct brought her pace up to the cusp of her ability to control it. She didn’t hold back for an instant, but went right along with the curve of her arousal and penetrated her sister faster, her heaving breaths rolling her chest against the younger unicorn’s back. “Mmmh...hahh...I’m getting close darling…” “Ah...ahh...nnhh…” “Does it feel good?” Sweetie Belle whimpered and shook her head. “...i-it hurts…” “Do you want me to stop?” Sweetie Belle shut her eyes tightly, and again shook her head. “That’s my sister...so in control all the time, with nopony around quite right to give it away to,” Rarity panted. “...mmh...big sister knows how to deal with all of that...but it doesn’t hurt enough yet, does it.” The pace kicked up again, and Sweetie Belle’s lips curled with discomfort. She bit down on one and whined, but forced her hips to move. “Cry for me dear...you want big sister to hurt you until you cry…” Sweetie Belle was no longer a filly. Life had been rewarding but was not without its trials, and no longer was the glint of innocence there in her eye. But she wanted it to be. It was a secret only her sister knew, and when she began to sob, Rarity knew she was letting it all out. Inside, there was Sweetie Belle, the little filly who missed those days where she could wear her heart on her sleeve. “...hahh…” Rarity breathed, “...th-that’s it...c-cry it out d-darlllnnngahh...ohh…” “Gnnh...R-rarinnng...i-it hurts...ahh…” Rarity felt the electricity building inside her. Her scrotum was wet with juices from her little sister’s marehood, but nothing filled Sweetie up there, and so for her there was no release. Rarity reached down to bite Sweetie Belle hard on the ear until her sister’s sobs became open weeping. “Shhhh...shhhh…” Inside the elder unicorn, the desire to implant took over. She thrust one more time, ramming Sweetie Belle hard up against the broadcast desk, and kissed at her sister’s tears as she began to unload inside her. “Ahhhh...nnng...g-good f-filly…” Sweetie Belle wept. She wriggled her rump, milking her sister’s warm gift, and found at her lips the microphone she used to do her job every night. Her big sister moved her hoof until it was touching the broadcast button. “You l-love it dear...y-you wish they all k-knew…” “Mmmhmmmm…” Sweetie Belle whined tenderly. “Tell them...ahh...t-tell them how b-big sister is f-flooding your behind r-right this minute…” Sweetie Belle knew just how much her sister could produce when she had been neglected for awhile, and this must have been a week or more. Another burst came forth, and without thinking she obeyed, allowing her sister to press her hoof down on the button. Her breath clumsily washing the microphone, she whispered weakly: “...I l-love g-g-getting f-f-fucked...b-by my sis...sisterrrahhhg...I l-l-love w-when she h-hurts me and m-makes me cry...I love her c-cock…” Rarity peered at the ‘on air’ sign, which did not glow. She removed her sister’s hoof from the empty microphone stand and pushed it away, giggling through her desperate exhalations. “You just told the whole school, darling,” Rarity whispered. “You told them all how much you love it when I fuck you silly.” Sweetie Belle blinked obliviously. “I...I did?” “Mmmhmm,” Rarity murred. “I certainly hope they were asleep at this hour, but you never know.” Sweetie Belle made no reply. She panted along with her sister, more from being crushed than anything else, and seemed to shrink beneath her. Rarity nipped her ear. “Does it bother you?” Sweetie Belle responded with, of all things, a buck. Caught off guard Rarity slipped out and staggered back, but her little sister, fueled by lust, reacted in an instant. She flipped over until she was sitting up on the table with her back against the booth glass, and clamped her hind legs around Rarity’s waist. This kept the elder from falling, but it also reversed her momentum and sent her sprawling back towards the table. Rarity landed on her sister with an oof, and Sweetie Belle wrapped her forelegs tightly around her, peppering her eyelids and cheeks with butterfly kisses. “...fuck me sis...you owe me now...you owe me ‘cause I let you rape my butt…” “Mmh, it’s not rape if you love it darling,” Rarity managed between return smooches, bathing her sister’s face as hers was bathed in turn. “...b-but who am I to deny such a good...mmh...such a good girl her prize...mmmhh…” Their lips touched. Elder tongue plunged into youthful muzzle just as snowy penis sank into grayish marehood, and Sweetie Belle milked her sister from both ends. She wrapped both sets of legs tightly around Rarity and held on, as if trying to mold their writhing mass into a single pony. Their love was rough, the pumping desperate, and a cheap mug rattled off the table, shattering as it hit the floor. “...mmmfff!” Sweetie Belle muttered when she came up for air from the kiss, “...f-fuck me sis...f-fuck me stupid…f-fuck me till I can’t walk...m-make it hurt…!” Rarity, touched by the connection of mare and stallion such that the latter parts could orgasm more than once, rammed her sister into the glass as though trying to put a crack in it. Her characteristic elegance gone, she let herself be swept up in an animal’s passion until all her tenacity, all her stubborness was turned towards the goal of breeding her kin. She hooked her forelegs under her sister’s hinds and yanked them up, battering into her like a dragon, and wrapped her teeth around Sweetie Belle’s soft jugular as a predator with doomed prey. She clamped but lightly, but a hoof came down on the back of her head and pushed her on. “...mmmmnnnggg...b-bite it, bite…” Sweetie Belle cried, “...bite me...e-eat me...I-I’m yours, squeeze me…” Rarity squeezed. Sweetie Belle gagged. Their sweat mingled, and their hearts beat as one. Rarity felt her sister go into involuntary spasms, the sensation luscious all about her length. “...nng-c-c-cumming, I’m cucummmannh!” Sweetie Belle lost herself to orgasm, but her sister gave no ground. Caught up in the rapid thrusts, she found herself pulled into another release immediately following the first, and was given no time at all to recover from a third. “...s-sis...ahh...ww-w-ait I...c-can’t stop...can’t...ahh…” Rarity let go of her sister’s jugular and drew up to her ear, her voice low. “Sister’s fucking you...sister makes you cum without control…” she cooed, “...sister takes you up...and up…” “...s-sister t-takes me u-up...a-and up…” Sweetie Belle repeated. “Up…” Rarity persisted. “...u-up…” “Up and over.” Rarity reared back, almost pulling out of her sister, and slammed straight into her with such force that she was instantly up against the younger unicorn’s cervical opening. Sweetie Belle filled her mouth with her sister’s mane to avoid screaming in a way that the street could hear. Rarity closed her eyes and bowed her head. “...up...d-darling...up…” “...hahh...hahh...u-up…” “Up and ooooover--” Sweetie Belle lost count of her releases. Her mind clouded over with lust, her eyes rolling up; with a blurred image of the ceiling she lost control of her limbs and fell plastered like a sack of potatoes back onto the desk. There was nothing except for the sensations between her legs, her brain turning all her attention there, and she milked weakly as the precious ropes of her sister’s seed washed into her canal. “...n-no condom…” Rarity whispered. “...d-don’t c-c-are...deal with i-it later...k-keep b-breeding me…please…” Rarity obliged, collapsing upon her sister only after a full thirty seconds of gooey release. Some other object that had rattled to a precarious position on the desk fell, but they paid it no mind as the two of them touched lips in a gentle, tender kiss. There they lay, panting together until their breathing slowed. Locked together still at the groin, they wound down until the only sounds in the room were the ticking of the wall clock and the oscillations of the fan. Somewhere in the distance came a clattering of hooves - the sound of a late night taxi, ferrying some traveler through the sea of Manehattan midnight. “...y-you’re heavy,” Sweetie Belle finally meeped. Rarity kissed her forehead. “And you’re adorable, dear.” “Are you maybe gonna let me up, soon?” “Hmm…” Rarity thought whimsically. “...no.” “No?” “Why do you want to get up?” Sweetie Belle was taken off guard by the question. “Uh...because clean up, go home, all that? Classes tomorrow?” “If you’re not careful darling, you’ll turn into me when I was just starting out,” Rarity replied as she stubbornly held her sister down. “You need this, Sweetie. I can hear it in your broadcasts. You miss me.” “...well yeah…” “So don’t be so quick to end it dear,” Rarity muttered. She took a great whiff of her sister’s hair and made a face. “You young adults and your perfume choices, I swear.” “I...guess I could stay...yeah…” “Yes you can,” Rarity whispered. “You can stay right here for awhile, with me. No dorms, no classes, no stores, no responsibilities. Just feel your sister’s penis deep inside you and lay still like my good girl.” “...mmm, yeah…” Sweetie Belle’s smile was soft and genuine. She wiped her eyes, marring her hoof with black mascara, and folded her sister in a gentle hug. “Are you off tomorrow little one?” “Mmhm,” Sweetie Belle confirmed. “We’re going out to dinner, remember? I just took the rest of the night anyway. Mooney can handle it and she owes me.” Rarity stroked her sister’s mane. “In that case, we’re going for five stars uptown, spare no expense. And after that, you’re coming to my apartment. My private apartment. And no, you won’t be able to walk in the morning, so be ready to copy notes from a classmate.” “...yes big sister,” Sweetie Belle smiled. It was a misty night. Sweetie Belle once knew a filly by that name, or maybe four or five of them. But the rest of the details were a syrupy mess in her mind, and she didn’t care about any of them. There was only her lovely big sister, who bred her in ways no other pony could ever understand. The next day, Sweetie Belle’s rump was sore. The day after so was all the rest of her, but she would have had it no other way. She was a consummate professional, after all.