Standing On A Beach, Staring At The Sea

by mellon collie

First published

a collection of stories inspired by the music of the cure

a collection of stories inspired by the music of the cure. some of them are happier than others, but none of them are happy.


i got the inspiration for this after reading various weaknesses by dark avenger and then going on a long walk. the cure is one of my favorite bands of all time and i wanted to explore some of their more disturbing or depressing songs using ponies. spoiler warning: things do not end well in most of these stories.

thank you in advance for reading this, it means the world to me.

Subway Song

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The lights that hung overhead in the abandoned subway station had cracked, barely producing any illumination anymore. Vulgar graffiti covered every conceivable surface. There was a putrid smell in the air, a combination of dead rats and cigarette ashes. The air was heavy and uncomfortable, filled with dust. Everything was still, the only noise being the mare's shaky breaths and her hoofsteps.

She was the most beautiful mare he had ever seen. The way her mane flowed, her bright coat, her pursed lips, her breathtaking eyes that glowed in the dimly lit station. Her gaze shifted around uneasily as she moved forward. He could smell the faint traces of alcohol in her scent. That would make things much easier for him.

She didn't know exactly why, but she felt like there was somepony else in the station with her. She felt a pair of eyes on her, watching her every move. They bore deep into the back of her skull. Going down here had been a mistake, but it was too late to fix things now. When she thought she heard something behind her she tensed up. She didn't dare look.

He hid himself behind a pitch-black corner, only peeking out to catch a glimpse of her when he felt it necessary. He moved when she moved, remaining an invisible being in the shadows, always one step behind her. When he heard her breathing pick up slightly, coming more labored than before, his grin became a twisted one.

He decided that now would be the time to start playing with her. The mere possibility of his presence put her on edge, so why not see how she would react when he made her know he was there? It was going to be so much fun.

His hooves lightly scratched against the waste ridden floor, echoing enough to catch the mare's attention. She jumped up when she heard them. At first she thought it was just her imagination, just her anxieties getting the better of her, but when the noises continued her heart started beating faster than ever in her chest.

Her eyes moved to look behind her, but she quickly went back to staring straight ahead. She wanted to turn around, to stare down whoever was following her in the dead of night, but she was too scared to do it. There were too many ways it could end poorly if she did. If she just ignored it, maybe they would go away. She told herself that in an attempt to make it true.

The hoofsteps became louder, a thudding noise that drilled into the mare's skull the closer they got. Her body began to shake as her nerves took over. Her chest tightened as she grew more and more unnerved. She wanted to run, but doing so would undoubtedly make things worse for her. She continued trotting forward, a vice clamping around her neck as she desperately tried to find air.

Fear overcame the mare, and she slowed. She was stuck in an inescapable situation. If she tried to run, they would easily catch her. There was nopony around to help her, just her and whoever was lurking in the shadows, stalking her like predator to it's prey. The already dim light seemed to fade away more as she continued on. Her blood ran cold as she noticed that.

The station seemed to stretch on forever. She had been walking for almost 20 minutes and yet she felt no closer to the exit. The walls felt like they had started coming closer together, trapping her with the pony following her. Her eyes moved around frantically, trying desperately to find any way out. There was no solace for her. The grime covered walls and the rusty tracks were all that surrounded her. She felt like she was suffocating.

The stallion watched her, a twisted grin on his face. He enjoyed watching her get more panicked, the way her body twitched uncomfortably when she moved. Her anxious breathing and whimpering was like music to his ears.

The hoofsteps grew even louder, the constant cacophony making the pit in her stomach grow. The noise overpowered every one of her senses until it was all that she could process. It took everything in her not to scream. Tears began to fill her eyes and she bit her lip as hard as she could, trying to stay quiet. The pounding of her heart mixed with the hoofsteps until it was deafening.

And then the hoofsteps stopped. The world seemed to pause for those moments. The mare felt more afraid than ever. Whoever it was that was doing this, it held her in the palm of their hoof. The tension built up in her chest until she let out a quiet sob.

He felt a rush of joy at that.

"Turn around," came a gravely whisper from behind her. The voice scraped at her lungs, cutting them open and removing the air from them.

She slowly, anxiously, turned around, only to be met by darkness. There was nopony there. All that she could see was pure darkness, blacker than anything she had ever seen before. She remained in place, confusion at the forefront of her mind. Had it all just been her imagination? She placed a hoof on her chest as she tried to calm down.

He'd gotten his enjoyment out of psychologically torturing her, and now was the time for her to meet the same fate as the rest. She had been more enjoyable than the others, but she was no different. She deserved this.

The hoofsteps started up again, immediately trapping her where she stood. All at once, the fear came pouring back in, choked cries escaping as she stared into the dark. Her body shook painfully, her chest heaving as she tried her hardest to move. She had to run.

As soon as she turned and tried to run, she felt herself being yanked back by the tail. She was now completely surrounded by the shadows. Her heart plummeted until she could no longer feel it beating. A figure hovered over her, watching her squirm helplessly on the floor as her tail was held under his hoof.

She didn't see the knife being pulled out by the pony that had been following her, nor did she have time to react before it was plunged into the side of her throat.

Nopony heard her scream except for him. He loved the sound more than anything else in the world.

10:15 Saturday Night

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A looping ambient techno instrumental flowed through the air, the ethereal nature of it diminished by the constant skipping of the record. It would have to do for now, though.

Vinyl Scratch's gaze lingered on the half-empty bottle that stood on the table. The light that shone into it was bright, making it nearly unbearable to look at. Her eyes went to the lamp in the corner of the kitchen, its flames flickering as it slowly died out.

She reached forward and grabbed the bottle in her grasp once more. Before she drank from it she just stared at it. Was this what her life had really become? Whenever she wasn't out getting fucked up at a club or playing a gig, she would sit at home getting drunk off whatever bottles she could find.

She couldn't remember when she had started drinking. The first time had to have been when she was young, or else she wouldn't have had such a tolerance for it by the time she was an adult. It served as a good escape for a mind, something she could fall back on when things got too hard. That seemed to be happening more and more often lately.

Her alcohol intake had spiked when she really started getting into the DJ scene. Of course, it came with the job when all you did was play at clubs. She eventually started going for harder things, things that would numb her faster and for longer. But she still felt tied to the bottle, even if she was unable to feel anything else.

Vinyl's vision became blurry as she continued to stare at the bottle. She was pathetic for doing this. She was pathetic for being unable to function unless she had something coursing through her veins that made her barely conscious. She was pathetic for being unable to love herself unless she was intoxicated.

If she wasn't high or drunk or inebriated in some way she would be left alone with herself and her thoughts. Anyone who would willingly go through that had to have a death wish.

When she was on something she didn't have to feel anything. She didn't have to feel worthless, or feel regret at her life choices, or feel disgusted at her image. She didn't have to think at all either. None of the usual bullshit that her mind screamed at her all the time could get to her. She was free.

The bottle was lifted to her lips and she drank, the alcohol barely able to burn her throat anymore. Some of the liquid dribbled down her muzzle and fell onto the table.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She wiped at her mouth. It kept coming.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She groaned and went back to drinking. Even more fell out of her mouth this time.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The record slowed to a stop, a silence overtaking the room that was only combated by the dripping.

Vinyl took a shaky breath when she realized this, the bottle clinking against the table as she set it down. She used her magic to lift the needle of the phonograph and flipped the record to the other side. When she set the record and the needle down and the music began playing again, a mirthless smile graced her lips.

The haze was finally starting to fall over her now, clouding her mind in the familiar way she so desperately craved. Her mind was slowing down, less thoughts able to run through them. All she could focus on was the dripping from her muzzle. She didn't know why it hadn't stopped, nor did she care to find out.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The buzzing in her head was growing louder by the second. It was becoming harder to stay upright, her hooves leaning on the table to keep her from tumbling to the floor. A strangled laugh left her as she picked up the bottle again.

Or, she would've if she hadn't accidentally knocked it over.

The bottle fell onto it's side and shattered into hundreds of little shards. The sharp corners glimmered in the light. Booze flowed through the remains of the bottle before pouring onto the floor.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Vinyl picked up one of the shards, wincing behind her glasses as it pierced her skin. She didn't try to remove it, instead pushing it in further. Blood slowly began to pour out of the cut, mixing with the alcohol on the table to make a dark red puddle.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

She removed the piece of glass from her hoof and tossed the blood-soaked shard to the floor, the tiny cracking noise ringing in her ears. She was going to need another drink if she could still feel.

She wiped her bleeding hoof onto her white chest, staining her coat. As she moved away from the table the blur began to overtake her more, making it near impossible to move. She pushed on in spite of it. She needed to get a drink.

When she began to walk she stumbled over her hooves, barely catching herself before she fell. Instead, she tumbled headfirst into the base cabinet, sending her to the floor. A dull throb passed through her head, like somepony had clipped her with a sledgehammer.

A strained laugh left her as she lay on the floor, unable to pick herself up. Her eyes went to the doorway that connected to the living room. Hanging off one of the tables was a pink and white bow tie.

Octavia wasn't home.

Vinyl knew that they'd had a fight, but she couldn't recall for the life of her what it was about. All she could remember was that there was screaming and crying, the latter mostly coming from Octavia.

At some point she stopped trying to remember every argument the two had. They stacked up so much that keeping count was pointless. It was all the same song and dance, really. One of them would get upset, yelling would ensue, angry sex or Vinyl getting high enough to forget her own name, repeat.

This was what she was used to, but she felt different this time. Something about Octavia was off, she could remember that. There was a defeated air around her, her voice sounding broken and exhausted. She didn't storm out of the house in a big fuss like usual, she just.. quietly left, not even letting Vinyl know.

That took place during the early afternoon. It had been hours since then and Octavia still hadn't returned. Usually she was back within two or three hours, but it had been so much longer than that.

The fight was yesterday, Vinyl realized. Last night, Octavia didn't come home in the morning and Vinyl hadn't noticed.

Vinyl let out a shuddered breath, forcing her body to move onto its side. She felt her body shake as everything washed over her. Whether from anger or sadness, she didn't know.

Everything was falling apart around her and she was the one to blame.

Tears had begun falling from her eyes before she could stop them, and she weakly tossed her glasses across the floor to let them fall freely. The tears hitting the ground mixed with the dripping alcohol and the flowing blood and the loud music to create a cacophony of white noise that comforted Vinyl while she cried.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

A Forest

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Applejack's eyes shot open as she woke up from her nap. The ground under her was uncomfortable, rocks digging in her back. All she could see for miles were dark trees, some dying and decaying. Their leaves quietly rustled in the wind. Enough light from the overcast sky filtered in through the gaps between the tall trees, but not enough to see much ahead.

She didn't know when she had entered the forest. She'd been walking for so long that she didn't remember where she was even going anymore. Her hooves were aching from their overuse, but she pushed herself up off the ground anyway. Her body screamed in protest, her knees buckling slightly as she stood up. She stretched her body before she began walking again.

The path that she had been following had long since ended. She felt like she was wandering aimlessly, constantly walking in circles even if she never turned. The occasional critter approached her wearily, some of them skittering away when she noticed them and others running between her legs. She ignored them beyond a simple glance, intent on reaching her goal. Whatever it was.

The trees seemed to darken the further she got in the forest, less and less leaves on them with each ones she passed. The trunks were hollow, frail and barely recognizable as wood. The blowing wind seemed to get louder, a high pitched wail that put her on edge. Her hooves hit the ground quicker, the dirt and rocks crunching beneath them.

Applejack felt a pair of eyes on her in the distance, though whether it was an animal or a pony had remained to be determined. Her breathing quickened when she noticed them.

She saw a flash of orange in the distance and her heart momentarily stopped. She wasn't alone. After moving a few more feet she saw it again, this time able to tell it was a mane. It looked strikingly familiar, but she couldn't put her hoof on it-

It was Buttercup.

There was no way it wasn't her. They had the exact same mane, even down to the curls. Applejack felt her chest heave as she took this in. Had she just imagined it? Her mother had been dead for years, there was no way she was hidden in this forest. But it looked just like her. She had to reach her.

Applejack took a few deep breaths before beginning to trot towards where she saw her mother. The figure had since disappeared, but that didn't deter her. She had to get to her, she had to get this one last chance for closure. She peered into the trees, trying to see more than a few feet ahead of her.

"Applejack?"

The voice made her stop in her tracks, causing her to tumble to the ground. She skidded forward, scratching up her knees and muzzle. She felt her heart simultaneously fill and break at the sound of Buttercup calling her name. She hadn't seen her in so long. The memories that had faded over time began coming back to her. Times when Buttercup and Bright Mac were playing with their kids, or teaching them how to buck trees, or even just those serene moments where they sat by the fire, more warmth coming from the fact that they were together than the flames could ever provide.

Applejack's vision went misty as she quickly stood up. She hastily wiped her eyes, trying to stop herself from crying before it was too late. This was her last chance to see her mother and she wasn't going to waste it.

She began to gallop with reckless abandon as the voice called out to her again. It was further away this time. The trees blurred together as she rushed past them. When the voice came again from her right she made a hasty turn, nearly falling over as she ran deeper into the trees.

Her breaths came in quick bursts, her body burning from the overexertion. No matter how fast she galloped the voice was always further away. But she couldn't give up. Not now, not ever. The growing darkness did nothing to stop her.

Applejack's pace slowed to a trot as she had to catch her breath. Without the thought of reaching her mother at the forefront of her mind, she realized that there was next to no light this deep in the forest. She could hear tapping against the ground, and quiet growling in the distance from a timberwolf. The rustling of the leaves became even louder until they nearly drowned out her mother's voice.

The yells were becoming fewer and further between.

With newfound determination, Applejack began galloping once more, throwing all caution to the wind. She didn't care that the trees had begun looking identical, or that she was geting closer to complete and utter darkness. Nothing mattered to her except getting to her mother.

As the tapping became a high-pitched scraping, and the howling wind picked up until it was thunderous, Buttercup's voice became lost in the chaos. The air was becoming harder to breathe as Applejack pushed herself to her limit. She was so close now.

She came to a stop when she reached the last place she had heard her mother.

There was nopony there.

She stood there, tethered in place. This was impossible. She had heard her mother, she had even seen her. There was no way she wasn't there. She fell to her haunches and just sat there, staring at the empty space where her mother should have been.

She should've been holding Buttercup right now, being told that everything was going to be ok. But it had been ripped away from her just like it had all those years ago. She didn't dare cry. She felt emotionless, like the last remains of her heart had been torn out. She stood up and turned around, trotting away.

It was then that she realized that she didn't know where she was. There was no more light, no way of seeing anything. It was all black.

Applejack was lost and alone in the middle of a forest, one that was populated by countless dangerous animals that would be able to rip her to shreds if they wanted to. She had no idea how to get out. The only things that surrounded her were the smothering abyss and the animals that watched her from within it.

She continued trotting ahead. Somehow, she knew she would end up here again. She didn't know when, but it was a certainty. She would always be chasing something that wasn't there, no matter how many times it slipped out of her grasp.

The Drowning Man

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Trixie was tired.

She was tired of repeating the same mistakes. She was tired of doing the same mind-numbing things over and over again. She was tired of the days becoming the exact same. She was tired of her magic shows constantly failing.

She didn't even enjoy doing the shows anymore. She'd burnt herself out long ago, but she forced herself to keep doing them so that she could make a living. It was barely enough to keep her afloat now.

Trixie had gone through the motions so many times that she had begun to detest her performances. They were so uninteresting and unfufilling, but she couldn't find the strength to begin doing something new. This was the one thing she had tried that worked out for her, so she clung onto it for dear life.

Though she got her cutie mark after doing a magic trick, she had tried many other things as a filly and even early into adulthood. Every single time she would lose interest in it and discard it, the assorted items that came along with the hobbies piling up unused in her childhood home. She became detached even quicker as time went on, some of her pastimes only lasting a few days.

She eventually rediscovered her love of magic tricks, and that soon became the driving force in her life. Her traveling act filled her for awhile, leaving her content. It grew to satisfy her less and less over time.

She began to want more out of her life than just being a magician. She wanted to feel loved, like she was deserving of the "great and powerful" title that she had bestowed upon herself. That had been a sham. A wall she put up so she could hide her true feelings behind a veil of arrogance.

Trixie began venturing out more, traveling farther and attempting to connect with other ponies. Her conceited nature turned off most, but there were a select few that she let in, lowering her barriers so they could know her true self.

They didn't like her as much as she didn't like herself. She was impulsive, always doing what benefited her and her alone. She was so cruel to her friends, at times reducing them to tears over the littlest things. Everytime she would apologize, but she would just end up hurting them again, whether through her words or through her actions.

She was never going to change. No matter how hard she tried to become better she would remain in the same vicious loop. She would always destroy what she built up, pushing those who she cared about further away until they left.

And everypony had left. That was why Trixie was sitting on the edge of a bridge, watching her hooves dangle precariously. She stared at her distorted reflection in the water below, the periodic ripple warping it more.

The last of her friends had finally grown tired of her constant bullshit. They all gave her the same pointless speech about how she needed to get better and how she would lose everypony if she kept acting the same. Only one of those ended up happening.

She was so tired of the way she was. The constant lies, the constant manipulation. She used other ponies to get whatever selfish thing she wanted in the moment and threw them away when they were no longer needed. She never really cared for anypony else. They were just pawns to her.

She cared for nopony but herself. Maybe the act she put on wasn't as much of an act as she thought it was. What she thought was another one of her illusions was actually a mirror into who she truly was. A cracked, disgusting mirror.

A shiver ran up her spine, though it didn't come from the frigid air. She was back in the sqme place that she had crawled out of in years past. She was alone and doomed to repeat this cycle again. There had to be a way out. She had to put an end to this. Either she kept hurting herself and everypony around her or she could stop herself for the final time.

The water looked so inviting, especially from this high up.

She hadn't noticed the birds that sat on the opposite edge of the bridge until they flew away. She was jealous of how bright they were in contrast to herself.

Trixie rose to her hooves and steeled herself. She took one last look at the world she was leaving behind. Everything appeared grey and lifeless, just like she was about to be. Smiling, she took the plunge and jumped.

When she hit the water it was like a bolt of electricity to her brain. It chilled her to bone as she sank, getting further and further from the air. It instantly became harder to breathe. She had to stop her reflexes from pulling her back up, the water succeeding in dragging her down. This was it. It was all going to be over soon.

The world began to fade away along with the oxygen, and as Trixie's eyes began to lose their life she asked herself one question. Was it worth it?

Everything she had done, from the magic shows to the Ursa Minor to the amulet to all the times she brought pain to those who cared for her. What was it all for? Was it all just meaningless in the grand scheme of things? Would everypony forget her?

She knew that if she died in this river, ponies would only recall the good aspects of her, playing them up as there were so few of them. They would herald her as a troubled soul who deserved far better than she got, even if she knew that none of that was true.

She'd rather be misremembered and adored than alive and hated. That was the thought that ran through her head as the last bubbles of air left her lungs, her breath coming out for the final time while her body went limp.

Siamese Twins

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The spa had been declining in business for ages now, but it had become unignorable. Revenue was at an all time low, and if Aloe and Lotus didn't make some money fast they would have to shut down the spa for good.

So they did what they had to do. Volunteer work, such as helping out at the school or lending a hoof at the animal shelters, had become commonplace in their lives. They did the occasional odd job in between, but even then, they were still in dire straits.

They had one final option, and though neither wanted to do it, they couldn't afford not to.

The first few times had been some of the worst experiences of Aloe's life. She felt used, like a toy that was discarded when it was no longer fun. A tiny part of her innocence was crushed with every thrust, every grunt and every artificial moan. Everything she had achieved for herself felt like it was being thrown out the window by whoever was dominating her each night.

Sometimes she would start to enjoy it, letting herself be blissfully unaware of what was really happening and imagining the act to be between her and her non-existent lover. Then the other pony would take that from her grasp by hitting her, or pulling her mane too roughly, or saying something demeaning and awful about her for their own amusement.

All she was to them was a means to an end, an object that they could use and abuse as they liked to get that high. That wave of pleasure never came over her. Sometimes with the nicer clients she would get close, but it was still too far away to reach every time.

Eventually she stopped caring so much. She just tried her best to make it enjoyable for the other pony. Better them than her.

As her head was pushed further into the pillow, she let out a low groan, hoping that the stallion would misconstrue it as something positive. It was easy to tell that this was his first time. He was a mix of too soft and too rough, never going at the right pace to keep Aloe mildly satisfied.

The first time they kissed, there was no passion in it. That was to be expected; it was just an item on the checklist for her. When he kissed her again after rubbing his hooves around her curves, there remained no passion at all. It was robotic for both of them, something which surprised her.

As things continued, the room growing hotter and hotter, no emotion resonated from either of them. It was a tired routine for her and a lifeless conquest for him. Neither of them gained anything from it, only going through with it because they both felt they had to.

Aloe's eyes moved to Lotus, barely able to make out her twin sitting in the corner, hoof between her legs. Lotus had grown to enjoy doing this more than her sister had. She enjoyed the intimacy it had and the chance to express herself sexually. She probably got all the good clients too. The stallion had specifically requested for Lotus to watch them, though she didn't know why.

He grunted and gripped the bedsheets tightly as he released himself into her. She felt nothing. Neither did he.

Lotus left the room when they were done, looking more content than either of the ponies she had been watching. Silence filled the room after the door shut with a click.

No words were said before the two went to sleep.


When Aloe awoke, she felt a warmth radiating from beside her. At some point during the night she had put her arms around the stallion. She guessed that she had done it due to craving some kind of intimacy between them, trying to make their interactions seem more emotional than they had. Or maybe she just wanted to feel close to somepony for the first time since she could remember.

The stallion stirred slightly before opening his eyes. When his gaze met hers, he looked away. He pushed her away from him and sat up, his breathing quickening. "This was a mistake."

"What?" Aloe asked, sitting up herself.

"My first time was supposed to be special." His stare was emotionless, focused on nothing and everything. "It was supppsed to mean something. But instead I got with a prostitute because I was lonely and desperate." A pause. "What am I doing with my life?" he muttered.

Aloe remained silent, twiddling her hooves together while he spoke. This was the most that anypony had said to her the morning after; usually they just left her alone in her bed, leaving in silence after paying her.

"Is this it?" he asked, half to her and half to himself. "Am I supposed to feel.. anything? Because I don't. I feel nothing." He wiped at his slightly damp eyes.

"I'm sorry it wasn't as-"

His head snapped to the side to face her. "No. Shut up. I don't care what you have to say. You're just a slut. You're not even going to remember this by tomorrow, I bet. This was worthless. Just like you." He moved closer, until he towered over her. His voice lowered to a rough whisper. "You mean nothing to me. You're nothing. I'm done with this."

He suddenly ripped the sheets off of himself and got off the bed. A bag of bits was roughly tossed to her. "Take your money." He trotted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Aloe sat there, stunned. Nopony had ever blown up on her like that. The words stung at her, filling her with more emotion than the prior night had. Maybe he was right, maybe she was just a stupid whore who left ponies feeling emptier than before she let them have their way with her.

She got out of bed and left to take her usual shower. There was an awful smell lingering in the air and all over her body, and she needed to wash away the feelings he had left her with. She didn't know whether it was better or worse than when she felt nothing at all.

She pushed open the door to the bathroom and walked to the shower, her hooves moving mechanically. This was as common to her as actually sleeping with other ponies. It was her way to wash off all the physical and metaphorical grime.

After turning the knobs and waiting for the water to heat up, she stepped in. The water cascaded over her, but it might as well have been hot air. It made Aloe feel no better. If anything, she felt worse as her coat and mane became soaked. She sat there for a minute, just staring at the floor, letting the water fall onto her.

She eventually began cleaning herself, wincing as the body wash froze her skin. After rubbing shampoo in her mane she washed it out, resting directly under the showerhead. She remained there even after her mane was washed.

Aloe eventually got out of the shower, feeling no more clean than she had before getting in. Just like every other time. The cold air her like a speeding cart, her body shivering as she set a towel on the floor. She grabbed another and began drying herself off, staring at her reflection in the mirror the entire time.

"It'll get better," she told herself. She held onto that hope because she didn't have anything else to grasp.

Give Me It

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When Pinkie Pie felt a hoof between her legs, two different feelings rushed through her.

There was the pleasure she got from the touch, the primal urge inside her that was begging for physicality being satiated. She felt warmth coursing through her veins, trembles running up and down her thighs as she twitched in place.

There was also fear.

She had never gone through something like this, and though she wasn't commonly one to be afraid of new endeavors, there was something off about this. The rubbing was a little too rough, slightly scratching her. The hot breaths against her face hit her like they were chunks of molten lava. An uncomfortable feeling permeated in her stomach as hooves wandered where they shouldn't have been.

She didn't want any of this. All she had wanted was to spend a day with her coltfriend, baking together at Sugarcube Corner. It would have been the first time he'd gotten to cook something at her home. But instead they'd wound up in her room, in her bed, their bodies closer than ever.

Red Velvet smiled down at her when his hoof became wet. "Yeah, you like that?"

"Uh.." Pinkie looked into his eyes. She could see the passion burning in them, the love he harbored for her even if he was showing it in this manner. He looked happy. She would do anything to keep things that way. She forced a moan, hoping that it sounded delighted enough to answer his question.

Red Velvet began rubbing faster. Pinkie felt her skin crawling, like ants had found their way inside of her and were now trying to escape through her. The smell that wafted up into her nostrils nearly made her retch. The sweat that was pouring down her face mixed with the warm fluid coming from between her legs to create a repugnant scent, like an overheated oven left to burn.

Being in the room felt like she was in that same oven. It was so hot, and the burning of her lower half made her feel like she was being boiled alive. Red Velvet's hoof was like a branding iron against her skin. She wanted nothing more than to get out of there and get a breath of fresh, clean air.

Her climax began to build inside her despite her. It felt different than the times where she had explored her own body. Everything was slightly off, not pleasurable enough to feel good but not bad enough to be painful. The tension in her muscles was more annoying than anything else, her heart beat with dull thuds instead of fast thumps, and the ecstacy that normally filled her head and placed stars in front of her eyes was missing.

When it came, it was more out of necessity than anything else. But Red Velvet was happy, and that was all that mattered.

He moved a bit of her hair out of her eyes, and she tried her hardest not to squirm at his touch. His lips brushed against her neck, like horseshoes scraping against concrete, before he pulled away suddenly.

A stiff, throbbing object pressed against Pinkie's outer thigh. She looked down at it and held back a sigh. She knew what was coming next. A look into Red Velvet's eyes reminded her of why she was doing this.

She got off the bed and lowered herself to her knees, the hardwood floor seemingly digging into her skin. As she stared dead ahead, she took a breath in, preparing herself for what was to come.

Then a hoof grabbed her by the back of her head and pushed her down.

She struggled slightly under the hoof, but as the member drew closer, twitching directly in front of her, she gave in, letting it slowly enter her mouth.

The taste that welcomed her, flesh that was sweat coated and salty, was nauseating. She gagged from the taste as it filled her mouth. All of the air she had inside left her, and she could barely breathe enough through her nostrils each time she tried.

A satisfied grunt sounded above her.

She could feel her head swimming as more seconds passed by, the length being pushed further into her mouth until it hit the back of her throat. She choked on it, combined with the spit that was beginning to pool in her mouth.

With each twitch, each moan that left Red Velvet, she felt weaker. She felt the emptiness in her chest grow wider after each gag, threatening to overtake her entirely. She was being used by the pony she loved the most.

And that was the worst feeling in the world.

But he was enjoying himself so much. The euphoric moans as he instinctively thrusted forward, the permanent grin etched onto his face. They told her everything she needed to know. He was loving this.

And that was the best feeling in the world.

Tears brimmed in her eyes as she tried her best to make it better for him, if only because he couldn't make it better for her. She wanted it because he did. She moved her tongue slightly, and though it felt like rubbing it against sandpaper, the response was immediate.

He let go of her and rougly shoved her head up, a wet pop coming out as the member left her mouth. She gasped, sputtering as she tried to inhale as much precious air as she could. The fog in her head dissipated as the breaths she so desperately needed were had. Trickles of spit ran down from the corners of her mouth, along with spilling tears coming from her eyes.

Hot ejaculate landed on her chest, dripping down and staining her coat on the way. It was sticky, the clumps rubbing against her fur uncomfortably. She felt her heart drop as a bit of semen fell onto the floor, leaving it as a reminder of this event for the future.

"That was," came a breathy voice, "really fucking good. You're amazing."

Pinkie forced a smile at that. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you."

"Well, uh, I gotta get back to work. I'll see you later." Red Velvet placed a kiss on her cheek before walking out.

Pinkie felt shivers run through her body as he left. The taste remained in her mouth, making her involuntarily gag once more. She sat in place, hugging her legs together, her body shaking.

A bird sang outside her window. Its tune was muffled, though she could tell it was off-tune. The white noise scratched at her ears, nearly overwhelming her on top of the vast sea of emotions that were creating a rampaging tsunami in her mind.

But it didn't matter. Nothing did, besides the fact that Red Velvet was happy.