> Magic Mirror > by Stradivarius > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > WTF is Buckball? > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- It was a warm day, and there was no shade. Quibble Pants wished he'd worn his official Daring Do pith helmet to keep the sun at bay, but... he'd made a promise not to wear that hat in public anymore. The sun beat down on him from above, and his mane felt like a damp hot cloth sitting on top of his head. Luckily, though, the action on the field held enough of his attention that he didn't mind the heat. "Getting into it now?" Quibble jolted. He'd been staring again. Next to him, Clear Sky was watching him with a sly smile. He reddened slightly. "I... uh, yeah, I think I'm starting to get the hang of how this game works..." Clear Sky nuzzled his neck. "I told you, you really don't have to try so hard," she said. "But you are sweet for trying." "No, really," stammered Quibble. "I really do think I'm starting to figure it out..." Clear Sky smiled again, and gave him a light peck on the cheek. "You're so cute when you try to lie," she said. "Anyway, I missed lunch and I'm starving. I think I'm going to head to the snack bar and grab a hayburger or something. Want anything?" "Um... a water would be nice..." Clear Sky stood and walked off towards a makeshift concession stand at the edge of the field. Quibble sat on the bleachers watching her go, still feeling a bit flustered. She hadn't been wrong: he absolutely was lying. He still had no idea how this game was played. Even after sitting through dozens of these practice matches and buying a book ("The Complete Moron's Guide to Buckball"), he was still no closer to discovering why so many ponies found the act of kicking a ball back and forth to be so damned interesting. Even the book had bored him. A book. Had bored him. However, being caught in a lie was not why he'd gotten so flustered just then. He really had been watching the field quite intently, he just... hadn't been watching the game. Out on the field, the foals continued to play their game. It was just a friendly practice match, not a competition or anything, but they were clearly giving it their all. Quibble's eye was once again drawn to one foal in particular. At that moment, Clear Sky's daughter Wind Sprint was... well, Quibble still wasn't sure exactly what she was doing. She was doing whatever the pegasus on a buckball team was supposed to do. Kicking a ball back and forth until eventually it went into one of two baskets, it would seem. However, for Quibble, it wasn't so much what she was doing as how she looked doing it. Watching Wind Sprint play buckball was something else. At home, she always seemed so glum and sour, or at least that was the way she behaved whenever Quibble was around. But out here on the field, it was like she suddenly came alive and started glowing. He watched her zip around the field, her little wings straining as she chased the ball back, her short-cropped mane flying behind her in the wind, her young body glistening with sweat... Quibble jolted, shaking his head. He glanced guiltily around to see if Clear Sky had returned, but she was still over by the concession stand. He shook his head again. He really needed to stop thinking this way. Why couldn't he stop? He'd never had these kinds of thoughts about foals before. Why now, and of all the fillies he could have possibly noticed, why his special somepony's daughter? He knew the answer, of course, but that didn't make things any better or easier. The earth pony on the other team made a low pass. Wind Sprint dove to intercept it, her legs splayed out in front and behind her, and for just a split second Quibble had a full view of the underside of her body, including the little bumps of her undeveloped teats. He reddened a little and looked quickly away. He really needed to stop thinking like this. Clear Sky was returning from the concession stand, a small tray of food and a couple of bottles of water floating in the glow of her horn. She smiled prettily when she saw him looking at her, and he waved. She was an absolute knockout, there was no question about it. She could look beautiful and graceful doing just about anything, even something as mundane as carrying a couple of hayburgers back to the bleachers at a foals' buckball game. Quibble knew she was way out of his league. In the beginning he'd wondered if dating him was some kind of a dare that one of her marefriends had put her up to, but he no longer worried about stuff like that. They had only been together for a couple of months, but it was clear that she genuinely loved him. Even Quibble wasn't dense enough to miss that much. She'd even been willing to go to that Daring Do convention with him, and damned if he hadn't enjoyed the jealous looks he got from the other dweebs the whole time they were there. An absolute knockout of a mare was in love with him, and he couldn't stop ogling her prepubescent daughter. A daughter that hated his guts, no less. What the hell was wrong with him? Again, he knew the answer, but... "I'm back. Sorry I took so long." Clear Sky sat down next to Quibble. "I got you a hayburger, too. I figured you'd be hungry." Quibble felt his stomach rumble, and accepted the hayburger gratefully. He hadn't even realized that he was hungry. Was this mare a catch, or was she a catch? "Thanks," he said, and he meant it. He took a big bite out of the hayburger, maybe a little too big. An enormous glob of ketchup squirted out of the back and landed right on his shirt. Why did he always wear a shirt to these things? "What did I miss?" asked Clear Sky, pointedly looking out towards the field and ignoring the mess he was making. "Uh, well..." said Quibble. His mind raced, trying to recall something, anything, from The Complete Moron's Guide to Buckball that he could use to answer that question. Preferably something that didn't involve photo-accurate descriptions of Wind Sprint's teats. "Uh, well," he began again. "They, uh... they're really bucking that ball out there." He glanced at Clear Sky to see if she'd bought it. She was watching him with a smirk on her face. She reached out with her hoof, running it slowly up the center of his barrel until it scooped up the glob of ketchup. Then, she brought her hoof to her muzzle and licked it off. "You don't have to try so hard," she told him for the second time that day. Quibble grinned sheepishly. "But it makes me happy that you do." She nuzzled her head against his neck, and Quibble felt the warmth of her body pressing up against his. Out on the field, he saw Wind Sprint hovering in the air, watching them. She scowled briefly, and then returned her attention to the game. ~~~~~~~~~~ Two Weeks Earlier ~~~~~~~~~~ Quibble wiped the sweat from his brow with a fetlock. Clear Sky's house was near the top of the hill, and lugging the wagon behind him didn't make the climb any easier. He stopped at the edge of the lawn, trying to catch his breath. "Oh hi, Quibble, thanks for coming!" He looked up to see Clear Sky standing at the front door. He smiled weakly at her, still wheezing. Jeez, I'm just glad the kid isn't here to see this, he thought. The hill wasn't particularly steep, and the wagon was empty, but he'd still gotten winded making this climb. I really am out of shape. He met Clear Sky halfway up the driveway, and the two of them embraced quickly. "The stuff's here in the shed," she told him, leading him to a squat little outbuilding around the side of the house. "I've already got everything packed and ready to go, we just need to load it onto the wagon." She opened the door, and Quibble saw about nine or ten boxes stacked in a neat little pile. He wondered how heavy all of it was going to be. At least it will be downhill on the way back... "So...what is all this stuff exactly?" he asked. Clear Sky smiled, a little sadly. "Oh, just some of Thundercloud's things," she said. "I haven't really gone through it, it's just... it's been over a year now. I need to start getting rid of some of this stuff, especially if you're going to move in." Quibble laughed, a sharp, awkward chuckle that was not even remotely appropriate for the situation. He couldn't control it; it was just something he did when he was nervous. If Sky noticed, though, she didn't show it. Her horn glowed, and with some apparent strain she managed to levitate one of the boxes into the air. Quibble watched her for a moment, and then with a bit of fumbling managed to heft one of the smaller ones onto his back, immediately feeling as though his legs would give out. He followed Sky outside, and heaved it onto the wagon he'd brought. Thundercloud was Wind Sprint's father. Quibble didn't know all the details, but apparently he'd gone missing the previous year. It sounded like he'd had a pretty dangerous job, and a thorough search for him had turned up nothing, so at this point he was presumed dead. It was kind of a touchy subject, particularly for the kid, so Quibble tried not to pry into it too deeply. Still, though, it was a bit awkward for him, especially as things between he and Clear Sky had gotten serious enough that they were moving in together. "Presumed dead" didn't mean the same thing as dead, after all. If this guy suddenly showed up on their doorstep one day, wanting to get his family back, where exactly did that leave Quibble? As he meditated on this, the two of them worked on moving the boxes out of the shed and into the wagon. Quibble did his best to act like a macho earth pony and go for at least a couple of the heavier boxes, but it was pretty clear that he was not used to physical labor. Clear Sky got most of them loaded using magic, and politely didn't call attention to Quibble's panting and wheezing. "So," gasped Quibble. "Where am I taking all of this stuff, anyway?" "Oh, there's a shop downtown that buys old junk," said Clear Sky. "Turn right at the bottom of the hill and follow the road until it intersects with the main street, the shop is on the corner. You can't miss it." Clear Sky wiped her brow. Quibble noticed that the pale blue bandana she always wore around her neck was damp with sweat. Levitation was like physical work for unicorns, and Quibble felt a little ashamed that he'd made her do so much of the lifting. I really need to start exercising, he thought. If Sky was upset with him about it, though, she didn't show it. She leaned in and gave him a light kiss on the tip of his nose, and smiled sweetly. "Thanks for doing this, honey," she said. "I doubt any of this stuff will sell for much, but whatever you get for it you can just keep. It's the least I can do for making you come all the way up here to lug it away." Quibble's nervous tick struck again, and he laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck with his front hoof. "Oh, don't even worry about that," he said. "I'm happy to help out, really!" Clear Sky smiled and kissed him again, a proper kiss this time. "You're sweet," she said. "Anyway, I appreciate you coming out here to do this. I know it's right in the middle of the day, but I wanted to take care of this while Wind is at school. I thought it might upset her to see her father's things being carted away." Quibble continued to rub his neck nervously. "Is she still, uh..." Clear Sky nodded, her smile fading a little. "Yes, she's having a pretty rough time with all of this. She and her Dad were close." Quibble could only nod and continue scratching his neck. Clear Sky smiled and gave him a little hug. "Anyway, I really do appreciate this. Oh, by the way, you might want to go through some of those boxes before you take them downtown. Thundercloud actually had a pretty impressive book collection." "Book collection?" Quibble's ears pricked up. Suddenly he didn't look quite as exhausted as he had a moment before. Clear Sky giggled. "Guess I know how to motivate you," she said, booping him lightly on the nose. "Feel free to keep anything that strikes your fancy. Anyway, you should probably get going, Wind is going to be home from school any minute." "All right," said Quibble, strapping himself into the wagon's harness again. "See you later this week?" "Sure. We're still on for drinks on Friday, right?" "Absolutely! You know, I was thinking, instead of just drinks, all three of us could go out for dinner. You wouldn't have to call a sitter, and we could go someplace nice, someplace that Wind might like--" "That's probably not a good idea," she said gently. He hesitated, but then he nodded. She booped him again. "She's still getting used to the idea of you living with us. She'll warm up to you eventually, don't worry. You just have to give her some time." Quibble nodded again. "Okay," he said, a little reluctantly. They said their goodbyes, and Quibble began the slow and laborious process of tugging the loaded wagon back down the hill and into town. > Secret Stash > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quibble, covered in dust and sweat, glared at the piles of junk and overturned boxes now scattered around his living room. "Impressive book collection" had been a pretty misleading description. Quibble didn't know much about Thundercloud, but if he had to judge the guy based solely on his taste in literature, well... it was no wonder Clear Sky had gotten over him so quickly. Quibble shook his head. That wasn't a nice thing to think about somepony who had (probably) died tragically in the service of Equestria, and it definitely wasn't a nice thing to think about Clear Sky. Still, though: other than a couple of Equestrian classics that looked like they had been school library books he'd never bothered to return, Thundercloud's entire "book collection" was mostly trashy horror stories and books about weight lifting. He had a few Daring Do novels at least, but they were just common paperback editions you could find in any bookstore. He didn't even have the uncensored edition of Daring Do and the Jungle of Terror, Quibble noted with disdain. Fuck, why am I so cranky? Quibble wondered. It wasn't like anypony had told him to open every single box and dump the contents all over his house. He was just annoyed that now he was going to have to pack it all up again, in addition to lugging it down to the junk shop, and he didn't even have anything good to show for it. Then, he noticed that there was one box he hadn't quite finished exploring yet. It was still sitting, open and upright but with most of its contents still inside, off to the side wall. It was mostly full of random junk and there didn't appear to be any books inside, which is why Quibble hadn't bothered with unloading the rest of it. Still, though, he'd already dumped the rest of them out, and it wasn't like this would add to his workload all that much. "Might as well see what's inside," muttered, flipping the box over. The contents were as disappointing as the rest of this haul had been, and he was about to give up and start boxing it all up again, when something caught his eye. It was an old Skymail delivery bag. Quibble held the bag up to the light, turning it over and examining it. It was definitely the older style of bag, probably fifty years old at least. Clear Sky had told him a little bit about Thundercloud's job. He was, or had been, a Skymail delivery pegasus. Not just any delivery pony, though: he was a White Star, one of the few and the proud. They made deliveries to far-flung corners of the world, well beyond the borders of Equestria. Travel to those wild places was dangerous enough on its own, but politics made it doubly so. Since very few ordinary ponies had anything to send to Black Skull Island or the Scorpion Kingdom, the job usually involved carrying sensitive political correspondence between governments. This meant that oftentimes the messengers were treated as military targets, and it wasn't uncommon for White Star pegasi to be killed or go missing in the line of duty. For this reason, they were highly paid and highly respected. Ponies who applied for the job had to go through a rigorous selection process, and only the most elite flyers were accepted. Their training regimen made Wonderbolts Camp look like a Filly Scouts outing. Quibble examined the Skymail crest that was stitched on the flap of the bag, and sure enough there was a White Star marking. This bag was far too old to have been used by Thundercloud himself, but he remembered Sky saying that his father and grandfather had also been White Star pegasi. This bag had probably belonged to one of them. Quibble wasn't sure how much it was worth, but old Skymail bags were trendy collector's items, and a White Star bag that was this old... he was sure he could get something for it. "If nothing else, I can trade it in for some more Daring Do collectibles," he muttered to himself. He flipped open the flap and took a look inside. It wasn't much, but there was always a chance there might be an old undelivered war treaty or something in there, which would definitely increase the value. However, to his surprise, Quibble found that the bag was full of gems. They were just common gems of little value, only noteworthy in that they were all exactly the same size and had the same peculiar cut. However, Quibble immediately knew what they were. Magic tech was a pretty recent development, but it was one of the subjects he kept up on. There were magic-powered devices, sort of like cameras, that could record moving images and sound and store them on these gems. A second device, a magic mirror that doubled as an image viewer, could read whatever was stored on the gem. What's more, like all magic tech, the spells were woven into the device and operated by a mechanical interface, so anypony, not just unicorns, were able to use them. The movie-mirrors were an incredible invention, and Quibble had been one of the first ponies in Appleoosa to buy one. He'd had to special-order it from Canterlot; the stores in town barely carried any magic tech at all. He had showed it to Clear Sky, and tried to explain how awesome it was, but she hadn't really understood. Wind Sprint, as usual, just scoffed at him. He emptied the bag onto the floor, and stared at the pile of gems like a hungry dragon. There had to be at least a hundred of them, all labeled with dates. He wondered what they could possibly have on them that had necessitated hiding them in such an out of the way place. The Equestrian film industry was quite new, and "official" gem releases of films were expensive. He had paid far out the ass for the complete set of the latest Daring Do serial, and it hadn't even been that good. The mare they found to play her could hardly act, and they got the details of Caballeron's costume all wrong, and then there was that terrible scene with the rape snakes... He shook his head rapidly. If this really was a collection of bootleg films, it would more than make up for the time and effort he'd spent hauling this junk up here and sifting through it. If there was anything rare in here, he could make serious bits selling it on the black market. Before he even knew what he was doing, he had bagged all of the gems back up and was racing upstairs, the saddlebag slung across his shoulders. He couldn't wait to see what was on these things... Inside his bedroom, Quibble closed the drapes and dimmed the lights, and then fired up the magic mirror on the wall. The device hummed and crackled, and while he waited for it to power on he once again opened the bag and sifted through the gems. Each gem had a date on it, with no other markings to indicate what it contained. He grabbed one at random and inserted it into the slot at the bottom of the mirror. The glass flickered with magical energy, and slowly an image took the place of his reflection. He sat down on the bed to watch, and was immediately disappointed. The scene was a familiar one: Clear Sky's bedroom. The sheets on the bed were different, but he recognized the room. Wind Sprint, looking maybe a year younger and lacking a cutie mark, sat on the bed. Quibble's heart sank. So that's all it is, he thought. Just an old home movie. It made sense. The gems all had dates instead of titles, and if the books he owned were any indicator, expecting Thundercloud's taste in movies to be anywhere near kino had been a long shot to begin with. Looks like my afternoon was wasted after all... He wanted to get up and shut it off, but between carting all that junk around and sorting through it, he was completely exhausted. So he just lay there on his back, staring lazily at the screen. Wind Sprint was twitching her tail back and forth, looking at something off camera. There was a muffled voice speaking, but he couldn't tell what it was saying. Wind Sprint nodded, and a second later a big pegasus stepped into the frame. Shit. That must be Wind Sprint's dad. It was a little weird watching Thundercloud on screen. Quibble had heard plenty of stories, but seeing him in the flesh was a whole other thing. The guy was huge, he looked more like a statue of an old Ponish god than a real pegasus. His body was pure muscle, not an ounce of fat on him, and his chin looked like it could break a tidal wave. His coat was sort of a grey lavendar, with a pink and purple mane that was close to Wind's in coloring. His cutie mark, unsurprisingly, was a thundercloud. Quibble looked down at his own pudgy body, and then back at the Adonis on the screen. Thundercloud looked like an amalgamation of every macho colt that had ever picked on him in school. It was a bit satisfying to think that this godlike specimen of stallionhood was probably decomposing on some forgotten mountaintop, and meanwhile Quibble was in the guy's house plowing his wife every night. Still, though, if this was the image of masculinity he had to live up to, it was pretty damned intimidating. He looked back down at his flabby barrel, watching it jiggle as he tapped it with a hoof. I really need to start hitting the gym. Meanwhile, something odd was happening on the screen. Wind Sprint was now lying on her back, with her legs spread wide open so that Quibble could see everything. Granted there wasn't that much to see, she was just a little filly after all, but there was still something rather dirty about it. Quibble frowned. What sort of home movie is this, anyway? He thought back to where he'd found the gems. All of the junk he'd carted off had apparently been stored in their garage, and the gems had been stuffed inside an old mailbag and buried underneath a mountain of even less remarkable stuff. Kind of a weird place to keep precious family memories. Unless you wanted to hide them for some reason. Quibble's frown deepened. Thundercloud now had his head between his daughter's legs. What is he doing now? Is he... giving her a pelvic exam, or something? If so, he was being awfully thorough about it. He pressed his snout up against her fillyhood and inhaled deeply. "You take a shower today, sweetie?" he asked. Wind Sprint reddened and looked away. "I didn't have time after practice," she muttered. Thundercloud's voice dropped about an octave. "Hm, that's no good..." He took another deep whiff. "Yeah, smells like a dirty, sweaty little filly to me..." He nuzzled his nose into her crotch and she groaned softly. He moved upward, planting small kisses on the outside of her labia, slowly working his way up to her little flat teats. He took one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked on it while she continued to moan, finally letting it go with a soft pop. "You want Dad to clean you up?" Wind Sprint nodded rapidly. He thrust his muzzle deep between her legs and aggressively devoured her fillyhood. Wind's back arched and she gasped. At first Quibble thought he might be hurting her, but... no, that wasn't it. After only a few seconds, her entire body began to quiver, then shake, then convulse. One of her legs was kicking at the air in short, rapid spasms. She thrashed around on the bed, moaning loudly, while her father held her hips in place and continued to attack her pussy with his lips and tongue. Of course, by now Quibble was pretty certain that this wasn't a pelvic exam. In the back of his mind, there was a little voice screaming that he shouldn't be watching this. The thing to do, the voice advised, would be to immediately shut the mirror the fuck off, and then gallop straight for the nearest Royal Guard station. Unfortunately, though, Quibble couldn't really hear that voice over the sound of his soon-to-be-stepdaughter's obscene moans, so he continued to watch. Meanwhile, Wind Sprint was nearing the end of her orgasm. She lay on her back with her legs spread apart, breathing heavily. Her father pulled back, the hair on his muzzle wet with filly cum. Without saying a word, he seized Wind between his front legs and roughly flipped her over onto her belly. "Oof," she grunted softly as she plopped back down onto the mattress. "What do you say?" he asked. She glanced nervously over her shoulder and lifted her hips, flicking her tail to the side. She looked a bit weak in the knees. "F-fuck me, Daddy..." "Good filly." Thundercloud climbed up on the bed and positioned himself. Even scaled to the rest of his body his cock was enormous. There's no way that thing will fit... Quibble glanced down at his own stallionhood. Even at full mast, he was no match for this guy. Just one more thing to be insecure about. Wait, why am I at full mast? I shouldn't even be watching this... He didn't have much time to think about it. Thundercloud had stuffed his gigantic cock about halfway into his daughter, and was now slowly bucking his hips up and down. The bed creaked under his weight. Wind gasped as he pushed himself into her even further. He seemed to have reached the physical limit of how deep he could get, but he still had an admirable amount of his length inside. "Good filly," he whispered to her. He began to pick up speed. Wind was grunting and squirming underneath him, but she didn't try to fight him or escape. She couldn't have escaped even if she'd been trying to; the enormous stallion had his full weight on her and was practically nailing her to the bed with every thrust. Thundercloud was breathing more rapidly, and it was obvious he was having difficulty controlling himself. The bed creaked noisily as he fucked the helpless filly harder and harder. "AHH!! Dad, not so hard--" Wind protested, but her father pressed a hoof against the back of her head and shoved her face into the mattress before she could finish her sentence. "Quiet," he ordered. "Oh, fuck..." Clearly nearing his limit, Thundercloud was now drilling into his daughter with the merciless force and precision of a machine. Quibble's jaw hung open as he watched. He wasn't just fucking Wind, he was practically impaling her. What was even more shocking was that the little filly was taking it like a champ. With her face pressed into the mattress Quibble couldn't hear much more than a few muffled grunts and groans, but it was hard to miss the obscene squishing sounds coming from her pussy. Or the puddle of filly juice that was growing on the bedspread underneath them. Quibble realized he had his cock between his hooves, and was frantically jerking it up and down. He had no idea when he had started doing this, but he couldn't compel himself to stop. Meanwhile, in the mirror image, Wind Sprint's small body was convulsing. One of her hind legs began to kick at the air as it had before, and the muffled groans coming through the mattress were getting louder. "You cumming again already, sweetie?" grunted Thundercloud. "Damn, you are a slutty little filly, aren't you?" "M--mm...h--hmmm..." came her muffled response. "Alright sweetie," he panted. "Dad's gonna cum too...you ready...?" Wind Sprint made no reply, but there was a low, muffled continuous groan coming from the mattress. Thundercloud gave one last powerful thrust. He threw back his head and bellowed, and a moment later a thick white substance began to ooze out from where they were joined, pooling into the damp spot that had already formed on the bedspread. He held the little filly firmly in place until he had completely expended himself. Finally, he removed his hoof from the back of her head and rolled off of her. His member slid out of her with an obscene pop, spraying little clear droplets of filly cum into the air. He collapsed on the bed next to her, the springs creaking audibly under his weight. Wind clambered to her hooves, her legs still shaking. She crawled over to where her father lay, climbed on top of his barrel, put her mouth to his, and kissed him. Thundercloud wrapped an enormous foreleg around her neck and drew her in closer. Quibble could hear the sounds of their lips smacking together. Wind's little hindquarters were facing the camera, and her pussy was gaping lewdly open. A huge glob of white cum suddenly oozed out of it and dribbled down the back of her hind leg. This was what finally sent Quibble over the edge. The sound that emerged from his throat was nothing like Thundercloud's deep, masculine roar; it was somewhere between a groan and a croak, the kind of sound he imagined a strangled goose would make. It turned into a yelp of surprise as a glob of his own semen landed just above his eye. He wiped it off with the back of his foreleg. The image in the mirror crackled into static. Quibble lay on his back, panting, his cock still spasming weakly. His chest heaved and his heart pounded. He lay there, panting and holding his dick between his hooves, while the image faded away, until he was left staring at his own reflection.