Tailjobs you sick fuck

>Mustering what was left of your grovelled, augmented mind narrative- you declared you never asked for this.

>'Embarrassed' didn't suit your situation, you were entering into a full-on defcon 1 mortification.

>This problem had latched onto you like a fine layer of curling hair product selection.

>If only the statement wasn't so literal right now.

>You would actually feel rather cold right now- with the bathroom door wide open, coupled with the fact that you did not have a single shred of clothing on you.

>Then again, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

>You take a moment to fortify your mind, and prepare your body for what is to come.

>Similar to taking off an old band-aid or even stepping into a cold shower on a windy day; you plotted to finish this act with precision and speed.

>Speaking of plots, you had one that simply was too annoying- entangled with you, so to speak.

>"Anon, you should stop freaking out." The said annoying plot spoke, thus sending another barrage of vocal pain upon you.

"Stop freaking out? You try NOT freaking out!"

>You shamefully reach down to your groin, slowly grasping onto the object that rudely froze your self-enrichment session.

>It was not that really bothersome to have on, it was just that Sweetie Belle was attached to it.

>Perhaps faking noises to stimulate yourself wasn't the greatest idea.

>Damn filly was attracted to it like a violent, horrid comic to a deceased equine.

>Your grasp on her tail actually takes you by surprise, you never expected it to be so soft.

>From the shape of it, you'd have half-expected it to be gelled and hard as a rock.

>Apparently, this was a very common thing for the folks around, their tail and all kinds of body hair were easily manipulated.

>Tightening your hands, you make sure your grip is secure before trying to pull Sweetie off you.

>As embarrassing it was to admit it, but you had Sweetie Belle's tail stuck to your handle with care zone.

>Several tries later, you are completely aghast- there is simply no undoing to this doing.

>Meanwhile, Sweetie Belle seems to be enjoying her reverse hanging, preferring to jumping in and out of mocking and swinging on you.

>She was completely oblivious to the position the two of you were in, only heightening your levels of fear.

>What if Rarity was to walk in on this?

>What if anyone were to walk in on this?

>You might as well kiss your hopes and dreams and possibly your penis goodbye.

>And you were never a fan of auto-fellatio.

>You try a few more times, before finally realizing that this act must be an act of god- as no amount of mathematics can explain this bullshit.

>"Hey Anon, try that shaking thing again, that's fun!"

"It's not fun, and you should stop enjoying this!"

>"But it is, Anon!"

"DON'T SAY THAT, AND YOU DO NOT ENJOY THIS, YOU HEAR?"

>"B-but-"

"ARTIFICIAL FUN."

>Sweetie Belle seems to be disgruntled by your declaration on what she can enjoy, turning away from you to only cross her forelegs and huff.

>While you silently stare at the nearby razor and get odd ideas, Sweetie Belle decides to do things her way.

>She started out subtly enough, but you soon realized what she was doing-

>She was swinging again.

>Your shoulders bunch up and chills run down your spine as the sensation hits you, like a virgin fratboy being molested.

"Sweetie." You slowly call out to her, hoping she would stop.

>She only goes faster, hoping that defying you would bring her more of her sick idea of satisfaction.

>What she didn't realize was that you secretly enjoyed this, but you were still conscious enough to know this was bad.

>Puppy torturing villain levels of bad.

>Sweetie has now ceased moving side to side, but now opted to swing back and forth- between your legs like some sick porno fetish.

>"I see Bonbon I see friends, Anon lost his underpants!"

>Sweetie Belle continues to mock you, as she continues her deranged, innocent torture.

"Sweetie. Stop." You order, voice hard but slightly cracking.

>Sweetie seems to understand the sudden weight your voice holds, immediately ceasing her movements.

"Look, you just can't go on people on do this."

>"Why not?" Sweetie asks, confused.

"Well, because- I- uh-"

>"Do you have a rash?"

"No, I-"

>"Are you ticklish there?"

"What? No-"

>"So you are!"

"Sweetie, that's not what I-"

>The filly works quick to shut you up, by tilting herself to one side with ease.

>You actually end up interrupting yourself with a gasp, the feeling starting to overcome your senses.

>You look down on the filly with pure fear, only to find her staring right back- with that shit-eating grin on her face.

>She had you right by the balls, and she knew it.

>You try to regain control of the situation, primarily by making a weakened angry face with a warning finger up.

>Sweetie moves once more, completely paralyzing you in place.

>And knowing her, the little devil went on; in alternating patterns, rapid successions, and even a twirl.

>Unable to hold back, you finally let everything loose, like your direction in life and morality.

>You watch in horror as your special brand of paint splashed over the tiny creature, staining her white coat and mane.

>"Ewwwwwww! Anon, stop peeing on me!" Sweetie shrieks, feeling the liquid on the back of her head.

>Somehow she manages to dislodge herself from you with a jump, landing to roll on the ground to scream and kick.

>You quickly throw her into the shower and let her wash.

>The whole time she was yelling out on how she was mentally hurt, with threats of her telling this to everyone.

>The shower lasts thirty minutes, only to have it end with the puffball darting out like its arse was on fire.

>You never had a chance to react, you were still frozen over the whole thing that happened.

>And as Sweetie's distance away from you widens, you barely catch her audible declaration of what had happened.

>So, about that auto-fellatio thing.