Clop Goes Here
Chris Milhart let the door slam shut behind him. With a jingle, he tossed his keys onto the low table by the door of the foyer, grumbling under his breath.
Shitty day.
He kicked off his tight shoes, and fumbled irritably at the buttons on the collar of his oppressive dress-down shirt. Finally swearing and simply ripping at the collar, tearing the buttons loose, he went ahead and just yanked what was left of his shirt open. The tie followed suit.
Shitty job.
Free of his shirt, Chris popped the latch on his belt, dragging off his pants on the carpet as he walked, slouched and clad in naught but his Kleins, down the hall to the kitchen. Slapping at the dimly-lit wall until he found the light switch, he blinked in the blinding fluorescent glow. There wasn’t much to see anyways. A dilapidated couch in the living room that led into the bedroom and bathroom, and a run-down kitchen that flickered with movement briefly as cockroaches fled from the light to find their moldy holes.
Shitty apartment.
No, there wasn’t much for Chris Milhart to be particularly happy about. Not his lousy, dead-end career at customer support, not his pathetic jalopy tucked away in the miserable garage down the block. As he shuffled into the kitchen, the grimy windows glimmered sadly with red and blue, accompanied by the cacophonic harmony of police sirens.
Definitely not his neighborhood, either.
Taking a step, he flinched as his foot found a forgotten plastic water bottle. Chris’ brow furrowed, but he was just too tired to get angry. The loud crackling of the bottle elicited a rustle from the bedroom. He ignored it. Cracking open the fridge, Chris scratched his chin as he contemplated the inside. Some leftover chinese would do fine for tonight’s meal. Just enough milk for tomorrow, and there was some jam left for breakfast. He ignored these, however, heading straight for the bottom drawer. Giving it a sharp tug, he reached inside and pulled out a beer. Chris didn’t usually drink on weekdays; tonight was an exception. He really needed a cold one.
He pulled away from the chilly air, cracking the top of the can and closing the door. Tilting his head back, he slurped the pleasantly bitter drink. Bringing the can away from his lips and wiping his mouth with the back of his palm, he heard the scuttle of little legs on the carpeting. He looked down to find a pair of wide, violet eyes looking up at him.
“Welcome home, Master!” chirped Rainbow Dash, a wide smile on her lips.
Chris Milhart stared down at her dimpled cheeks and chromatic bedraggled mane, and mumbled some weak greeting in return. Rainbow Dash’s eyes wrinkled slightly in concern, but the now-uncomfortable smile didn’t leave her face. Looking past him, she gasped as she saw the crushed water bottle.
“Oh, dang. I knew I’d forgotten something,” she cursed, her brow furrowing. Her cheeks always flushed slightly when she was mad at herself. “Sorry Master... today was a slow day for me. I must have forgotten to...” Her voice trailed off as she looked up into her master’s eyes again. His face remained completely blank. She looked down and sighed grumpily.
“Fine. I’ll get the paddle,” she said, her tone mocking and playful. She trotted back to the bedroom, but Chris didn’t follow. He just stared blankly at the spot where Rainbow Dash had once been, listening to the jingle of her collar.
Right. A pet Rainbow Dash. He’d almost forgotten about that.
Truth be told, he couldn’t exactly remember how he’d gotten her. He’d just... woken up one day and she was there, poking him in the side and asking him to wake up. God only knew what had happened the night before.
But tonight, he didn’t feel like remembering anything. Quite the opposite. He wanted to forget. Trudging miserably along, he sank into the worn sofa cushions and flicked on the TV from where he sat. Some re-run was on. Chris couldn’t remember the name of the flick. He recognized that one actor though. The guy who played the dude in that other movie. Didn’t matter. Chris took another sip as Rainbow Dash trotted back in, a ping-pong paddle cocked in her mouth.
“Awright Mashter, Ah got duh paddle! How many shmacksh fo’ fowgetfuwness?” she mumbled between clenched teeth. Chris didn’t answer. He just stared ahead at the people on the TV screen as they threw about their arms in an attempt to further the storyline. Rainbow Dash frowned, and prodded him with the end of the paddle. When he still didn’t respond, she plopped it down onto his lap and waited patiently for her punishment. It didn’t come.
“Oh, come on, Master!” she whined, her voice cracking. “That’s not fair! You have to punish me, right? C’mon! I always do what you want!” Chris sighed heavily, somehow managing to sink even further into the cushions of the couch.
With a thoughtful look on her face, Dash paused for a moment, then sat back on her haunches and rested her chin on his leg. An involuntary shiver shot through Chris’ body as her silky coat touched his bare calf. He looked down at her, and she looked right back at him with eyes glistening with concern.
“Hey, what’s biting you?” she asked quietly. “You’re not usually like this, Master.”
Chris sighed, returning his attention to the television while playing absently with Rainbow Dash’s collar. He took a hefty swig of beer for strength.
“I don’t know, Rainbow Dash,” he finally said. “Everything just... sucks. My life’s going nowhere, and I have no idea what I’m doing with myself.”
Rainbow Dash didn’t try to say anything. Chris’ fingers picked more and more anxiously at her collar, scratching her coat in a way that was setting her hair on end. She pressed into his fingers as he continued talking, oblivious.
“I mean, look at me!” he continued. “What the hell did I go to college for, huh? Some bullshit job where all I do is take crap from morons who don’t know how to turn on their damn microwaves? I had a future, dammit!” Tears began forming in his eyes. Rainbow Dash, despite herself, couldn’t keep from rolling hers.
“Where the hell did it all go wrong?” he sobbed pathetically, like a child throwing a tantrum. “Where the hell did I take a wrong turn on life and end up on shit street?” His blubbering was momentarily cut off by another swig from his beer. Tapping it with his forefinger, he looked at the empty can dejectedly and tossed it over his shoulder.
“I’m pathetic. I’m a goddamn wreck. And I’ve got a goddamn pastel colored horse living with me. Oh Christ, Chris Milhart, what the hell happened to you?”
As he continued his miserable tirade, Rainbow Dash stroked the length of Chris’ leg. The whole thing was boring her dreadfully. She’d done nothing but sleep and exercise all day while waiting for him to get home. And now that he finally had, her master was too much of an emotional wreck to even tell her what to do.
She blinked her lashes and looked up at her master from her comfortable position of resting on his leg. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to give orders. He just wanted to curl up and cry and point at the world and tell it to stop being so unfair. She’d have to take initiative.
“Sometimes I just wish I could start all over. Just go back to square one and just... just...” His voice trailed off as he felt and electric tingle shoot up his spine, and he looked down. “...Just what are you doing?”
Rainbow Dash’s hoof had subtly left the side of Chris’ leg and was now sliding back and forth along the front of his boxers. Every time her hoof passed over his limp member, another jolt of pleasure coursed through him. She looked up at him coyly out of the corner of her eye, a teasing smile at the edge of her lips.
“Nothing at all, Master,” she said dismissively, her stroke speeding up. “Just keep talking.”
Chris sighed heavily, sliding a hand down his face and along his stubble. “Rainbow Dash, listen... I really appreciate this, but I’m just not in the mood to–”
His voice was cut off with a gasp as the mare yanked down his boxers with surprising tact. The touch of the suddenly cool air only served to harden his now stiffening manhood. Chris’ hands pressed down onto the couch, only to find a hoof shoot out towards his chest to push him back down. With a light flap of her wings, Rainbow Dash found herself standing between his legs.
“I don’t think so, Master. Enough with the self-pity, already. You really need this.”
Chris’ mouth opened and closed, like a stunned fish. Rainbow Dash never took control. Not like this. Before he could think of some sort of threat or reprimand to put her back in her place, Rainbow Dash pulled her hooves away from his chest and placed them at the base of his shaft.
The effect was immediate. Every silky hair on her finely tapered hooves was a new sensation, and it brought him to full erection. Chris collapsed back into the sofa with a gasp. Rainbow Dash smiled at her small victory. She kept her hooves that way for a little while, enjoying his gasping and squirming as she toyed with his erection. Then she began moving her hooves.
With measured, even strokes, she caressed the edges of his meat, lightly tickling the bottom of the head with the tips of her hooves. Chris’ entire being throbbed and sparked, and he had to grip one of the cushions to keep from coming right there. Rainbow Dash was incredibly skilled. Her hooves accelerated, the friction eased by the softness of her coat. Her wide eyes were transfixed with the throbbing member, pacing every stroke at just the right speed and the perfect angle.
Rainbow Dash flashed a panting Chris a devilish grin, placing her hooves on either side of his shaft. Then, poking her tongue between her lips, she traced a thin, wet line from the base of his balls upwards. Chris bared his teeth as his entire body seized. Her tongue followed his urethra and rolled off the tip of his head, coming away with a thin line of saliva. Her hot breath blew on his moist, rock-hard rod. Looking up at her Master with wide eyes, Rainbow Dash kissed the tip of his head. Her tongue flitting around the edges of the purple fles. It licked vigorously at the opening, reveling in the precum.
“Holy shit...” gasped Chris. The sensation of Rainbow Dash’s moist, heavy breath billowing down the side of his dick and around the head of his member was indescribable. With closed eyes, she lovingly kissed and licked the top of his pants beast like it a million-dollar lollipop. Each tender caress of her slightly raspy tongue was nearly enough to send him over the edge. But he forced himself to hold on.
Sensing his resistance, Rainbow Dash played her final card. Slurping her prize dry, she pulled away for breath. Then, with her bottomless amethyst eyes locked into his, she drove her head down and took his entire length into her mouth.
Chris felt like the inside of his meat pole was shooting off fireworks. His manhood surrounded by nothing but the warmth and moisture of Rainbow Dash’s mouth, he felt like he was going to explode. Her eyes never leaving his, Rainbow Dash held her position, then slowly came back up. Her lips sucked every inch of his throbbing manhood, pulling with pleasurable suction until her lips released the head with an audible pop. She drove herself back down again, establishing a slow, steady rhythm. Each bob of her head was a new experience. Her tongue switching from side to side, she set off every neuron in his flaming scepter.
As her rhythm increased, her wide eyes scrunched shut with concentration. Loose strands of her mane fell over her forehead, framing her smooth face and reddened cheeks with a messy sexiness. The inside of her mouth was ablaze with motion and primal heat. Every stroke, every stifled mumble was a blinding flash of pleasure and ecstasy.
Chris couldn’t take it anymore. As Rainbow Dash plunged her head down his length one more time, he clasped his hands over the top of her head and brought it home. Clapping her mouth right down to the base, he cried out as his throbbing cock struck the back of her throat and erupted.
Rainbow Dash couldn’t do anything but flinch in surprise as Chris shot his hot load down her throat. Sparks flashed before his dazed eyes and, with a moan, he collapsed. Dash pulled the flaccid meat out of her mouth, saliva and cum dripping from her from it. She fell back on her haunches, gasping for breath. For a while, the two of them sat there, panting for breath.
Chris looked down at Rainbow Dash from between his legs. Her face was flushed, and her eyes closed. As if sensing him looks at her, Rainbow Dash opened her eyes, still breathing a little hard from the oral assault. Her ears perked up she carefully padded over, hopping up beside him on the couch. Closing her eyes, she pressed her head against his shoulder.
“Feeling any better?” she asked, breathless.
Chris chuckled slightly, shifting his arm to let her head fall under his arm and against his heaving chest. “Isn’t there supposed to be a ‘master’ somewhere in there?” he chastised playfully.
“Whatever,” she snorted, shrugging as best as she could in her position. Chris absentmindedly played with the loop of her collar. Neither of them spoke a word. Only the music of the ending credits creeping from the television stirred the silence. It wasn’t long before the little pony drifted off to sleep, rocked by the regular rising and falling of her master’s chest.
Chris watched the frail little thing dozing peacefully against him, a faint trickle of saliva dribbling from the corner of her mouth. She stirred in her sleep, smiling slightly and cooing unconsciously.
He looked out into the cold night, where the sirens blared and the cars raced endlessly.
Could be worse.