PASTEBIN | #1 paste tool since 2002
PASTEBIN
Pastebin launched a little side project called VERYVIRAL.com, check it out ;-) Want more features on Pastebin? Sign Up, it's FREE!
Public Pastes

# Anon - Medical Tonic

By: mothpone on Apr 29th, 2014 | syntax: None | size: 25.24 KB | views: 231 | expires: Never
download | raw | embed | report abuse | print
Text below is selected. Please press Ctrl+C to copy to your clipboard. (⌘+C on Mac)

1. >Tonic was passing you in the corridor, headed the other way, you on the way in. He had nothing to say but he slowed down in case you wanted to speak with him.
2. /Courteous and slightly passive-aggressive at the same time.../ you thought.
3. >You had something to learn from this guy. You took the chance he gave you to speak.
4. "How's he doing?" He stopped and turned back to you.
5. "Oh, fine. It's just an early cold. He gets like this every season when we get to a different cycle of nectar. I wish we could just keep him on lagered stuff so it wouldn't happen, but even if we had enough of it, he wouldn't get a rounded nutrition that way. I'll be back tomorrow morning, probably. He'll be happy to have a visitor. Just keep the curtains shut?" You nodded to the moth.
6. "How often are the nurses by to check on him?"
7. >He was shaking his head.
8. "Oh, they're not."
9. >He re-straightened his glasses unnecessarily, then motioned towards the string that ran out through a little slot that had been bored up closed to the ceiling next to Pepper's room. It ran at that height through a number of eyelets along the hallway, you expected back to the lobby area.
10. "He knows to ring his bell. I'm sure the nurses will be happy to have you running any errands he needs,"
11. >He gave an analytic look over his glasses at you.
12. "At least while you're here... They're restocking the pharmacy currently."
13. >He started walking away. *God* he was a dick! ... if infinitesimally.
14. "Tonic?" He turned back to your voice.
15. >You allowed a second to pass, then quietly:
16. "Thanks."
17. >He gave you a serious look and nodded, also very seriously. You nodded back. He turned again and hoofed down the hall at the same pace as before.
19. >You'd shared a moment, then, however small. Despite all the posturing, you did both care, warring hearts aside.
20. >You watched him go, probably at a precisely calibrated speed to make reasonable time, but also be able to stop easily in the event of any patients being wheeled in or out of their rooms. None were. Pepper Dust was probably the only pony at the small hospital at the moment.
21. >There were 6 or 12 rooms or something.
22. >They'd perhaps all been simultaneously full only once.
23. >The pharmacy actually brought in most of the real money that kept the institution from being a burden to the community.
24. >There were usually two nurses on staff.
25. >You stepped in after knocking softly.
26. "Hi, Anon." he said stuffily.
27. >You went to the bedside and sat, resting a hand on his hoof.
28. "How are you doing?" you asked him.
29. >He brushed your hand away.
30. "I don't have the *Rot*, anon. I'm just-" he breathed in sharply, then sneezed with great force, then finished: "...sneezy."
31. >You smiled incredulously.
32. "Your friends wouldn't have sent you up here if it that's all it was."
33. "Look, I'm a little bit woozy, alright? Because of the fever. They were out of herbs for it here, so they just plopped me up down until they could restock it. Amata would have just flown and gotten it for me when it was ready, but she has to do work today."
34. "Can't you just wrap your wings up in something to keep the dust down or something?"
35. >He looked crossly at you and pointed at a rag that was hanging on the bedpost over a bucket, then leaned up a bit.
36. >It was to keep the dust from his wings down.
37. "Huh," you said.
38. >He fluttered his wings experimentally, checking them for dryness.
39. "Speaking of which."
40. >He reached for the rag, but you stopped him.
41. "I'll do it."
43. >He rolled his eyes at you.
44. "I've been doing it myself all day."
45. >Whelp... You would try insisting.
46. "I'm attempting to be nice, here. Let me at least try?"
47. >He shrugged exasperatedly.
48. "Fine."
49. >He got out of bed somewhat shakily, though not /too/ bad.
50. >He walked to a spot a little past the middle of the room poorly-lit room. For a hospital room, it was quite spacey.
51. >You fetched the rag and bucket and went to him.
52. >On your way to Pepper Dust, you walked on something soft that was on the floor. Trying to keep your weight off of it, you almost stumbled.
53. "Shit, what the-?"
54. Without malice: "That's braille moss."
55. >You were dumbstruck. You squinted. He was standing on a patch of it, you thought.
56. "They let... moss... grow in the hospital?"
57. Patiently: "It's not in /all/ the rooms, but it's hypoallergenic. It actually feeds off of wingdust. It's *finally* started growing in my house, thank Saturnii'."
58. "Aha. So the moss will sop up excess droplets and consume the wing dust that rinses off with the water. Makes sense!"
59. >He didn't correct you, so that must've been right... but blech. Probably everyone else in the locality knew that since they were little, and here you were just learning it now.
60. >...Even if you could prove to the Valley moths that you were an okay guy, you had a feeling you would be the village idiot for a long time to come even so.
61. >You'd only ever been over at Pepper's place briefly and you hadn't noticed anything growing. Maybe it wasn't thick enough yet, or was just budding now in some corner...
62. "...I need my rag back if you're not going to help me."
63. "Sorry." You went to him, walking carefully, unused to the slightly-soft, slightly-uneven surface of this moss.
64. >He squared his weight and just looked forward, like he was about to have to turn his head and-
65. >he sneezed.
66. >...turn his head and... /sneeze/ for the doctor as they checked for herniation. Whatever.
68. >Earning these pones' trust was rougher than you'd expected. Baby steps, though.
69. >You got the rag wet. Then you noticed him shivering.
70. >The water was cold... If the fever was coming and going, it could be bad to do this without warming the water back up.
71. "Here, uh. You look cold, should I go get them to heat the water up?"
72. "Maybe, but I might actually be hot. It's hard to tell with a fever. Y'wanna take my temperature?" He gestured to a thermometer on the nightstand.
73. >You went to it, picked it up, and grabbed at the base of his tail, lifting it hesitantly. Pepper Dust stopped you before you could get too much further.
74. "Anon, what the heck!? That's an *oral* thermometer."
75. "I- erh. Sorry."
76. /You're was a horse, mostly. That's... that's how you take a horse's temperature.../ you reasoned silently.
77. >Pepper Dust held his mouth open and waited. You went and set the bulb-end gently on his tongue. He closed his lips around it.
78. >You counted out a full minute in your head.
79. "Is that enough time, about?"
80. >He nodded slowly.
81. >You took it and went over behind the curtain into the sunlight to read it.
82. >Then you realized you had no idea what the internal temperature of a mothpony was supposed to be, precisely.
83. >You had a brilliant idea.
84. "101," you said, not even exactly sure if the measurement was even in Fahrenheit.
85. "Okay, the cold water, then."
86. >You congratulated yourself:
87. /Damn smooth, Anon! Nice save!/
88. >Setting the thermometer safely down, you dipped the rag one more time.
89. Courteously: "Ready?"
90. "Yeah."
91. >You ran the wet cloth over his fairly dry wings gently, starting at the base by his shoulder, and working aft.
92. >His rearmost knees quaked visibly. He let out a breath. You'd finished going over the top of the first wing.
93. >You dipped the cloth again. You lifted up on the large appendage gently to do the underside.
94. >The shivers heightened as much more water dribbled onto his torso, gravity now fighting against you.
96. >You ran your hand along the top of the wing so it would stay down as you pressed the rag up against it from below.
97. >An almost gasping breath -- first out, then in -- emitted from him as you reached the tip of the large mothwing, four of your fingers running across it.
98. >Experimentally, you grazed the very edge of his wing with the back of your hand and arm as you leaned down to the bucket again. He reacted strongly, but said nothing.
99. >Yep. You remembered experiencing that physical touch was sometimes altered when you were sick. You'd felt a little raw. He must have been a little sensitive because of the fever in the same way.
100. >You went over the other wing now carefully. He arched his shoulder toward you as you went along, the cool water coating the top of the broad surface.
101. >You could feel the little tremor in his back all the way down the length of the wing.
102. >For the underside, you just let your rag hand rest on his shoulder blade, just under the wing for a second, palm-up, letting him catch his breath.
103. >You then lifted it and swept it long lowly, away from the insertion of the wing, back toward his haunches, your fingertips running along the wing's top with the smallest bit of pressure across the slightly-rough, mothy surface.
104. >Again, you 'accidentally' brushed the outer edge of his wing as you set the rag down.
105. "Okay?"
106. After hesitating a moment: "You should do my rough, too. It kicks out some dust, also."
107. >You weren't sure if he just wanted to feel less sick and was just utilizing your presence here as Tonic said he should, or whether he actually liked it.
108. >Regardless, though, you'd be scoring some points with him either way, so you continued.
109. >His rough was going to be able to absorb much more water before it was damp, however, so you got the washcloth sopping this time.
111. >Pepper Dust had transitioned to a sitting position on his haunches.
112. >You put one forearm around his chest, and wrung the rag out over his back. More shivers. Throughout his whole upper torso.
113. >He was taking it like a trooper, though. Being sick sucked. Didn’t matter what species you were.
114. >You made sure that you wetted up to the base of his ears in back with the last couple of drops.
115. >Getting more water, you tilted his head up from the chin gently so the water would run more easily the whole way down his front.
116. >He complied, his breaths perforated by the shivering muscles of his abdomen. You squeezed with both hands, putting just a slight pressure at the top of his strong neck.
117. >The water sheeted down some ways but you needed more.
118. >You repeated the process, moving down to his clavicles and the top of his pectoral muscles, which were bulging out a bit because of his position.
119. >His ruff actually ran a lot lower down than you’d noticed on most moth ponies. Back to the bucket. Wring. Repeat.
120. >He was panting. You were almost done, you just had to get a bit lower.
121. >Reloaded again, you held one hand over the now thick, now wetted-down fluff of his chest, and you leaned forward with the rag, other hand going between his first forelegs.
122. >You considered going around in front of him now, but you really couldn't see worth a damn in this light anyway. Again you dipped the rag and held on to Pepper’s front and lowered betw-
123. >Helllooooooo~ What was it that your hand had just bumped?
124. >Pepper Dust almost fell backwards from his sitting position, having to throw his forehooves behind him to catch his fall.
125. >The slight silhouette against the window clued you in. Now without being in his own shadow, you could see that this treatment had gotten him half-erect, roughly.
126. >He looked at you, and grinned a bit sheepishly.
128. “Sorry-”
129. “Uhh-” You weren't sure how to react.
130. “You probably don’t wanna help me with this, do you?”
131. “H-... alright.” It had been rhetorical, his question, but it hadn't processed fast enough, really.
132. >Plus you knew what it was like to get a rubdown withou-
133. /Damnit, Anon, this is exactly why they all think you're an asshole,/ you chided yourself.
134. >Pepper Dust laughed. It was a proper laugh too, only a bit of nervousness. He grinned.
135. >He took what little water was left in the pail and poured it down his front, low, as he was already leaning back with how he landed.
136. >He pulled at his... was it technically a cock?
137. >Anyways he pulled his perhaps-not-technically-a-cock to one side a few times, almost like you’d see some old timey villain do to their moustache.
138. “So, are you going to take that get jacket off?”
139. “Jacke- oh. Jacket off.”
140. /Get your mind out of the gutter, Anon!/
141. “You don't have to.”
142. >He was right. Meisa could probably fix just about any rip you put in the damn thing if you begged her, but if you stained it? She'd definitely turn her nose up.
143. >You went to the door in answer. Surprisingly, there was a coat-rack, which you utilized presently.
144. >You walked back, tried to play it cool:
145. “So, uhh. What uhm. What do you want me to do?”
146. >You’d never seen Pepper Dust look this happy before.
147. >He’d never struck you as overtly gay, just... well... pitiful. He probably just didn’t get laid all that often.
148. “Well you already cooled me off, maybe you could warm me up, again.”
149. >It was like the cheesiest porno-line ever.
150. >You thought about that.
151. >Okay, no, really. It wasn't even close.
152. >But for IRL it was pretty cheesy.
153. >He'd turned but was now sitting back on his haunches, upright.
154. >You weren't sure he was even all the way up yet, down there.
155. /What the hell have I gotten myself into.../
157. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
159. >You tried to put your apprehension aside.
160. /Look at how fucking happy he is Anon. If you want to make a life here, y’gotta do this, a’ight? Y’gotta./ More self talk.
161. >It was right though. You hated it when that little voice in your head was right.
162. >In fact you hated it when it ever spoke up about anything. Things were smoother when you could just go with the flow and not have to call any shots.
163. >...
164. >You knelt and just kinda strummed your fingers on his balls to start. God, there were proud and perfect. He took this time to stretch.
165. /”Proud and perfect,” Anon? I swear, you’re becoming a bigger a faggot every passing day./
166. /Dude, fuck you. I have to convince myself a little; my heart has to be in this or else PD isn't gonna appreciate it./
167. /Damn, you’re right. You just out reasoned the voice of reason. What the fuck!?/
168. /It’s your cue to shut up, voice of reason./
169. >After Pepper finished his stretch up mostly-skywards, he put one of his forehooves on top of your head, pushing you down slightly into a more-angled crouch.
170. >He didn't rest it on you with a lot of force, but you didn't really like there this might be going.
171. >Anyway, you at least could now get a slightly better look at what you were working on.
172. >You added your other hand to the fondling as you looked.
173. >Hm. No barbs, no huge ridges, no chitinous tissue to be seen.
174. /Good. It it’s just a regular ‘ol horsecock, I think. I can handle this./
175. /Gaaaay!/
176. /What the fuck did I tell you earlier, voice? I’m not wearing enough red for this shit. Also, I'm not a merc of any kind, mouth or no./ (Anybody?)
177. >Pepper Dust grunted softly above you. His apparently-normal dick did that thing where it sort of maxes out to like... tell you that it’s full and ready or whatever.
178. >You ran you hand down one side of it and watched it sorta reset to its center position when your hand fell away, having reached the bottom.
179. >He removed his hoof from you.
180. /That’s progress,/ you thought to yourself.
182. >You just... held it -- experimentally -- for a second. Although it now wasn't getting any /longer/, it stiffened under your touch.
183. >You rolled it, like dough between your palms next, just seeing how firm you could get it. Above you, Pepper Dust’s wings shook like peacock feathers did.
184. >It was so damn full you weren't really sure you could just slide your hand up and down without lubrication; the skin was stretched too tight.
185. >You didn't want to just... spit on him, either. He might take it the wrong way. You took a breath.
186. /There’s one way past this stage, Megaman./
187. >You put your mouth over the top and adjusted your lips a bit before getting started. He was fucking massive. You hoped to god he didn’t thrust.
188. /You know what, I’m not leaving this one to chance./
189. >You took your mouth off of it for a second.
190. >You didn't make eye-contact because you were embarrassed, however, you *would* manage to sound business-like.
191. >You held up a finger, explaining:
192. “Before we get any further, there’s no way I can take this whole thing, so just uhh...”
193. >You were hot.
194. “Just lemme... do it.”
195. >He responded;
196. “I've never met anyone who could take the whole thing, but... try your best.”
197. >Sincere horror gripped you. You froze for a sec.
198. >A pair of hooves from one side hugged you to his belly and lower chest, with that roll of flesh pinned partly under your chin.
199. >Laughter shook him.
200. “I’m just kidding, Anon.”
201. >You weren't so sure. But unless EVERYONE had missed that he was an EVEN BIGGER SOCIOPATH THAN YOU, you'd be alright.
203. >You also reminded yourself that you could probably hurl something at the pull string for the nurses to come to your rescue if things got really rapey.
204. >You were sure you glowed in the dark a little bit from how hot the blush across your face was. You were semi-ready to get back to nomming on him.
205. >Pepper didn't unhug you, though, he just held you with his central set of legs against him and stretched again, holding you about your middle against his faintly throbbing mothstallionhood, not quite thrusting, but just kind of rocking forward and gently into you, hitting you a little above mid-sternum.
206. >He leaned back a bit guided you down, now, his hooves now on your hips, allowing your upper body to move a bit.
207. >The top part of your stomach pushed against the lower part of his cock. You puffed it out to make more even contact. It felt good, actually.
208. >You bent your neck down and opened your mouth. You took a second to figure out how your were going to breathe and then licked experimentally.
209. >His hooves moved around to your back, two on the small of your back, and two just over your shoulders on either side of your neck.
210. >They had a pleasant heat to them. You twisted your head back and forth slightly, those personal, clicky, spitty sounds punctuating the moments as you worked your tongue, lips, and cheeks on the vaguely rubbery shaft.
211. >Your hands wandered down to lift at his sac and knuckle at the front of his perineum firmly.
212. >Pepper swayed at your attentions, his hips moving up and down in kind of smooth, undulating thrusts. They were even, so you could just move with him. He did not attempt to change pace or move against you.
213. >Little hums filled the air as you worked him closer.
214. >Suddenly, his breathing fell way the hell out of synch with what it was before.
215. >You readied yourself. You'd never swallowed before so this was going to be an experience... you weren't even sure if you should try but-
217. >You licked a bit faster at him, although he was taking these little gasps in so fast you couldn't really keep up, what with your tongue still not being at 100% since what Moon Dust had done with you earlier that week.
218. >He put a hoof on your shoulder and pushed back just ever so to get you to stop.
219. >You guessed it was simply too much, despite your surely being pretty awful at giving head given it was your first time, and all.
220. /Whelp. This'll be it then. I hope I don't fuck up and have this shit pour out my nose or whatever./
221. >You'd gotten here faster than you'd expected to you weren't quiet mentally prepared just yet.
222. >Regardless, though, you just tried to breathe evenly and be ready and any moment.
223. >Finally, that shallow gasping stopped and there was a still moment in the room, dead silent with no noise at all.
224. >His whole body tightened. You prepared yourself.
225. "Pssshwwwwwwwww!" he squeaked, then relaxed.
226. >He rubbed one hoof at his nose.
227. "Sorry."
228. >It took you a second to process.
229. >He'd sneezed.
230. >That had been a sneeze. It wasn't over yet.
231. >You wanted to complain but your mouth was still filled with mothy rod.
232. >A few little mini-thrusts urged you to continue, like a child throwing their weight in a stroller or shopping cart, bidding you to get it moving again, but not in a position to really do it themselves.
233. >You shook your head.
234. >You weren't sure you could just get back the rhythm that you had.
235. >You experimentally leaned forward a touch and tried to see how your mouth would react if you let him more than halfway in.
236. >...
237. >It wasn't quite as scary as what you thought now that you were warmed up at it, but there was no way you would try to go past your gag today.
239. >You started into this sort of quasi-chewing on him, not with your teeth, but just with your mouth and lips, as if he were cookie dough ice cream or something.
240. >He grunted at this, and pushed his hips forward -- not an upward thrust into your mouth -- but low and forward.
241. >You took the signal to start kneading his balls in both hands.
242. >Here came the steam.
243. >You used all the force of your tongue now to grind along the underside of this bit of Pepperdust you had just inside you, rubbing it against the front of your hard palate.
244. >He grunted right as you started that.
245. >Yep. It was doing the trick.
246. >You hugged around his back with one arm and ran your fingers through the roots of the fluff of his scalp, still massaging aggressively with your tongue.
247. >Somehow, your other hand ended up in his mouth and he lapped at your fingers, covering them with a cool layer of smooth, silky spit.
248. /Oral fixation, maybe? I guess he couldn't kiss me because my mouth's a little occupied./
249. >You didn't know why but this mothpony sucking on your hand, and lapping between the digits of it drove you a bit little wild -- in a good way, mostly -- but it did.
250. >Before long he had taken to mimicking your mouth's actions on his cock with his on your hand, focusing right at the pinky finger and ring joints of your knuckle, but on the palm side.
251. >You just rubbed him with your tongue, feeling very oddly the same gestures right back on your upper (distal) palm opposite your thumb.
252. >It wasn't long before you noticed you were mirroring his little gestures as well.
253. >It was like a very odd kind of 69.
254. >He had you rubbing him with the underside of your tongue now, just gently, sweetly, before having you lap into the very tip.
255. >His breathing got laboured. For real this time. That actual, familiar crescendo.
256. >His eyes were closed, now, his tongue still weakly mirroring on two fingertips what you were doing on him.
258. >He was like a locomotive just entering motion.
259. >You piled on more coal.
260. >Lap, lap, lap.
261. >You alternated using the top and bottom of your tongue right on the point.
262. >Lap, lap, lap.
263. >As you continued, you could feel his little slit dilating.
264. >It wasn't actually long before you could fit the tip of your tongue inside it.
265. >This was weird, but you couldn't stop. And he had you damned hot playing with your hand like that...
266. >He simulated the increasing level of penetration you could get by pressing your pinky away from your ring finger.
267. >The lining of his cock actually tasted... good, in a way, though maybe you were just horny as fuck or something. Coulda been.
268. >Pepper signalled you about the timing with his mouth. You fought his tongue slightly by trying to adduct and hold your fingers together against the wedge of his tongue.
269. >You tongued the hole of his cock again.
270. >You shivered as he succeeded in splaying your fingers apart.
271. >He bit down ever so gently on your hand and lapped at the webbing between those two fingers.
272. >You mirrored him in it at his cock.
273. >1. 2. 3. 4.
274. >You couldn't believe how much his urethra was able to dilate.
275. >One last time. You weren't sure quite how you did it, but you somehow successfully inserted your tongue and twisted it along its main axis... something you'd never been able to do before. You twisted back and forth for as long as you could in him... 1. 2. 3. 4...
276. >This was it.
277. >You trembled and hugged him, shutting your eyes, as he held you gently.
278. >You felt those waves through him working, knowing what they would bring up.
279. >Your breathing synced with them, as had his.
280. >At the last possible second, you breathed in.
281. >Your body knew what to do, and swallowed at just the right speed to keep up, but also stay in rhythm.
282. >Your throat actually felt really with those pellets going down, like an orgasm at your throat matching his peak in his... well. The usual place, obviously.
283. /*Pellets,* though? Really?/
285. >There wasn't much time to think about it, but your brain recognized that although there was some free fluid, the bulk of the mass you were swallowing consisted of these fairly solid, rounded units of...
286. >You weren't quite sure what they were, but they certainly weren't stopping.
287. >You started counting...
288. >By the time you reached up to 15 or twenty they'd slowed down, but were also getting bigger.
289. >They were filling your stomach.
290. >You weren't sure how you were doing it, as by this time they had to be goose-egg -sized by now.
291. >You counted about five at that size...
292. >Followed by one more that was just ever so slightly bigger, which you were able to down successfully although it almost fought your for a second in your neck.
293. >You half-sprung, half-collapsed onto him, knocking him backwards into the moss.
294. >His cock was sandwiched between the two of you, half limp, still twitching intermittently, but seemingly out of ammo.
295. >He pushed a hoof out and rubbed at your belly and chest gently.
296. >It wasn't clear just how he achieved it, but he carried you back to the bed with him and put you down in it.
297. >You were dazed. You'd *essentially* had an orgasm and also eaten the equivalent of roughly a pound or two of cooked spaghetti, or whatever.
298. >The feeling of stretch from your stomach was almost painful, but your mind was too hazy to really register it very well anyway.
299. >You found yourself wrapped up in two sets of hooves and pulled in towards his belly.
300. >Pepper Dust pulled the covers up.
301. >Apparently his fever was down again, so he was cold. He was trembling.
302. >You rubbed gently at one of his wings and you hugged him.
303. >Together, you would weather that storm as well.

create a new version of this paste RAW Paste Data
>Tonic was passing you in the corridor, headed the other way, you on the way in. He had nothing to say but he slowed down in case you wanted to speak with him. /Courteous and slightly passive-aggressive at the same time.../ you thought. >You had something to learn from this guy. You took the chance he gave you to speak. "How's he doing?" He stopped and turned back to you. "Oh, fine. It's just an early cold. He gets like this every season when we get to a different cycle of nectar. I wish we could just keep him on lagered stuff so it wouldn't happen, but even if we had enough of it, he wouldn't get a rounded nutrition that way. I'll be back tomorrow morning, probably. He'll be happy to have a visitor. Just keep the curtains shut?" You nodded to the moth. "How often are the nurses by to check on him?" >He was shaking his head. "Oh, they're not." >He re-straightened his glasses unnecessarily, then motioned towards the string that ran out through a little slot that had been bored up closed to the ceiling next to Pepper's room. It ran at that height through a number of eyelets along the hallway, you expected back to the lobby area. "He knows to ring his bell. I'm sure the nurses will be happy to have you running any errands he needs," >He gave an analytic look over his glasses at you. "At least while you're here... They're restocking the pharmacy currently." >He started walking away. *God* he was a dick! ... if infinitesimally. "Tonic?" He turned back to your voice. >You allowed a second to pass, then quietly: "Thanks." >He gave you a serious look and nodded, also very seriously. You nodded back. He turned again and hoofed down the hall at the same pace as before. >You'd shared a moment, then, however small. Despite all the posturing, you did both care, warring hearts aside. >You watched him go, probably at a precisely calibrated speed to make reasonable time, but also be able to stop easily in the event of any patients being wheeled in or out of their rooms. None were. Pepper Dust was probably the only pony at the small hospital at the moment. >There were 6 or 12 rooms or something. >They'd perhaps all been simultaneously full only once. >The pharmacy actually brought in most of the real money that kept the institution from being a burden to the community. >There were usually two nurses on staff. >You stepped in after knocking softly. "Hi, Anon." he said stuffily. >You went to the bedside and sat, resting a hand on his hoof. "How are you doing?" you asked him. >He brushed your hand away. "I don't have the *Rot*, anon. I'm just-" he breathed in sharply, then sneezed with great force, then finished: "...sneezy." >You smiled incredulously. "Your friends wouldn't have sent you up here if it that's all it was." "Look, I'm a little bit woozy, alright? Because of the fever. They were out of herbs for it here, so they just plopped me up down until they could restock it. Amata would have just flown and gotten it for me when it was ready, but she has to do work today." "Can't you just wrap your wings up in something to keep the dust down or something?" >He looked crossly at you and pointed at a rag that was hanging on the bedpost over a bucket, then leaned up a bit. >It was to keep the dust from his wings down. "Huh," you said. >He fluttered his wings experimentally, checking them for dryness. "Speaking of which." >He reached for the rag, but you stopped him. "I'll do it." >He rolled his eyes at you. "I've been doing it myself all day." >Whelp... You would try insisting. "I'm attempting to be nice, here. Let me at least try?" >He shrugged exasperatedly. "Fine." >He got out of bed somewhat shakily, though not /too/ bad. >He walked to a spot a little past the middle of the room poorly-lit room. For a hospital room, it was quite spacey. >You fetched the rag and bucket and went to him. >On your way to Pepper Dust, you walked on something soft that was on the floor. Trying to keep your weight off of it, you almost stumbled. "Shit, what the-?" Without malice: "That's braille moss." >You were dumbstruck. You squinted. He was standing on a patch of it, you thought. "They let... moss... grow in the hospital?" Patiently: "It's not in /all/ the rooms, but it's hypoallergenic. It actually feeds off of wingdust. It's *finally* started growing in my house, thank Saturnii'." "Aha. So the moss will sop up excess droplets and consume the wing dust that rinses off with the water. Makes sense!" >He didn't correct you, so that must've been right... but blech. Probably everyone else in the locality knew that since they were little, and here you were just learning it now. >...Even if you could prove to the Valley moths that you were an okay guy, you had a feeling you would be the village idiot for a long time to come even so. >You'd only ever been over at Pepper's place briefly and you hadn't noticed anything growing. Maybe it wasn't thick enough yet, or was just budding now in some corner... "...I need my rag back if you're not going to help me." "Sorry." You went to him, walking carefully, unused to the slightly-soft, slightly-uneven surface of this moss. >He squared his weight and just looked forward, like he was about to have to turn his head and- >he sneezed. >...turn his head and... /sneeze/ for the doctor as they checked for herniation. Whatever. >Earning these pones' trust was rougher than you'd expected. Baby steps, though. >You got the rag wet. Then you noticed him shivering. >The water was cold... If the fever was coming and going, it could be bad to do this without warming the water back up. "Here, uh. You look cold, should I go get them to heat the water up?" "Maybe, but I might actually be hot. It's hard to tell with a fever. Y'wanna take my temperature?" He gestured to a thermometer on the nightstand. >You went to it, picked it up, and grabbed at the base of his tail, lifting it hesitantly. Pepper Dust stopped you before you could get too much further. "Anon, what the heck!? That's an *oral* thermometer." "I- erh. Sorry." /You're was a horse, mostly. That's... that's how you take a horse's temperature.../ you reasoned silently. >Pepper Dust held his mouth open and waited. You went and set the bulb-end gently on his tongue. He closed his lips around it. >You counted out a full minute in your head. "Is that enough time, about?" >He nodded slowly. >You took it and went over behind the curtain into the sunlight to read it. >Then you realized you had no idea what the internal temperature of a mothpony was supposed to be, precisely. >You had a brilliant idea. "101," you said, not even exactly sure if the measurement was even in Fahrenheit. "Okay, the cold water, then." >You congratulated yourself: /Damn smooth, Anon! Nice save!/ >Setting the thermometer safely down, you dipped the rag one more time. Courteously: "Ready?" "Yeah." >You ran the wet cloth over his fairly dry wings gently, starting at the base by his shoulder, and working aft. >His rearmost knees quaked visibly. He let out a breath. You'd finished going over the top of the first wing. >You dipped the cloth again. You lifted up on the large appendage gently to do the underside. >The shivers heightened as much more water dribbled onto his torso, gravity now fighting against you. >You ran your hand along the top of the wing so it would stay down as you pressed the rag up against it from below. >An almost gasping breath -- first out, then in -- emitted from him as you reached the tip of the large mothwing, four of your fingers running across it. >Experimentally, you grazed the very edge of his wing with the back of your hand and arm as you leaned down to the bucket again. He reacted strongly, but said nothing. >Yep. You remembered experiencing that physical touch was sometimes altered when you were sick. You'd felt a little raw. He must have been a little sensitive because of the fever in the same way. >You went over the other wing now carefully. He arched his shoulder toward you as you went along, the cool water coating the top of the broad surface. >You could feel the little tremor in his back all the way down the length of the wing. >For the underside, you just let your rag hand rest on his shoulder blade, just under the wing for a second, palm-up, letting him catch his breath. >You then lifted it and swept it long lowly, away from the insertion of the wing, back toward his haunches, your fingertips running along the wing's top with the smallest bit of pressure across the slightly-rough, mothy surface. >Again, you 'accidentally' brushed the outer edge of his wing as you set the rag down. "Okay?" After hesitating a moment: "You should do my rough, too. It kicks out some dust, also." >You weren't sure if he just wanted to feel less sick and was just utilizing your presence here as Tonic said he should, or whether he actually liked it. >Regardless, though, you'd be scoring some points with him either way, so you continued. >His rough was going to be able to absorb much more water before it was damp, however, so you got the washcloth sopping this time. >Pepper Dust had transitioned to a sitting position on his haunches. >You put one forearm around his chest, and wrung the rag out over his back. More shivers. Throughout his whole upper torso. >He was taking it like a trooper, though. Being sick sucked. Didn’t matter what species you were. >You made sure that you wetted up to the base of his ears in back with the last couple of drops. >Getting more water, you tilted his head up from the chin gently so the water would run more easily the whole way down his front. >He complied, his breaths perforated by the shivering muscles of his abdomen. You squeezed with both hands, putting just a slight pressure at the top of his strong neck. >The water sheeted down some ways but you needed more. >You repeated the process, moving down to his clavicles and the top of his pectoral muscles, which were bulging out a bit because of his position. >His ruff actually ran a lot lower down than you’d noticed on most moth ponies. Back to the bucket. Wring. Repeat. >He was panting. You were almost done, you just had to get a bit lower. >Reloaded again, you held one hand over the now thick, now wetted-down fluff of his chest, and you leaned forward with the rag, other hand going between his first forelegs. >You considered going around in front of him now, but you really couldn't see worth a damn in this light anyway. Again you dipped the rag and held on to Pepper’s front and lowered betw- >Helllooooooo~ What was it that your hand had just bumped? >Pepper Dust almost fell backwards from his sitting position, having to throw his forehooves behind him to catch his fall. >The slight silhouette against the window clued you in. Now without being in his own shadow, you could see that this treatment had gotten him half-erect, roughly. >He looked at you, and grinned a bit sheepishly. “Sorry-” “Uhh-” You weren't sure how to react. “You probably don’t wanna help me with this, do you?” “H-... alright.” It had been rhetorical, his question, but it hadn't processed fast enough, really. >Plus you knew what it was like to get a rubdown withou- /Damnit, Anon, this is exactly why they all think you're an asshole,/ you chided yourself. >Pepper Dust laughed. It was a proper laugh too, only a bit of nervousness. He grinned. >He took what little water was left in the pail and poured it down his front, low, as he was already leaning back with how he landed. >He pulled at his... was it technically a cock? >Anyways he pulled his perhaps-not-technically-a-cock to one side a few times, almost like you’d see some old timey villain do to their moustache. “So, are you going to take that get jacket off?” “Jacke- oh. Jacket off.” /Get your mind out of the gutter, Anon!/ “You don't have to.” >He was right. Meisa could probably fix just about any rip you put in the damn thing if you begged her, but if you stained it? She'd definitely turn her nose up. >You went to the door in answer. Surprisingly, there was a coat-rack, which you utilized presently. >You walked back, tried to play it cool: “So, uhh. What uhm. What do you want me to do?” >You’d never seen Pepper Dust look this happy before. >He’d never struck you as overtly gay, just... well... pitiful. He probably just didn’t get laid all that often. “Well you already cooled me off, maybe you could warm me up, again.” >It was like the cheesiest porno-line ever. >You thought about that. >Okay, no, really. It wasn't even close. >But for IRL it was pretty cheesy. >He'd turned but was now sitting back on his haunches, upright. >You weren't sure he was even all the way up yet, down there. /What the hell have I gotten myself into.../ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- >You tried to put your apprehension aside. /Look at how fucking happy he is Anon. If you want to make a life here, y’gotta do this, a’ight? Y’gotta./ More self talk. >It was right though. You hated it when that little voice in your head was right. >In fact you hated it when it ever spoke up about anything. Things were smoother when you could just go with the flow and not have to call any shots. >... >You knelt and just kinda strummed your fingers on his balls to start. God, there were proud and perfect. He took this time to stretch. /”Proud and perfect,” Anon? I swear, you’re becoming a bigger a faggot every passing day./ /Dude, fuck you. I have to convince myself a little; my heart has to be in this or else PD isn't gonna appreciate it./ /Damn, you’re right. You just out reasoned the voice of reason. What the fuck!?/ /It’s your cue to shut up, voice of reason./ >After Pepper finished his stretch up mostly-skywards, he put one of his forehooves on top of your head, pushing you down slightly into a more-angled crouch. >He didn't rest it on you with a lot of force, but you didn't really like there this might be going. >Anyway, you at least could now get a slightly better look at what you were working on. >You added your other hand to the fondling as you looked. >Hm. No barbs, no huge ridges, no chitinous tissue to be seen. /Good. It it’s just a regular ‘ol horsecock, I think. I can handle this./ /Gaaaay!/ /What the fuck did I tell you earlier, voice? I’m not wearing enough red for this shit. Also, I'm not a merc of any kind, mouth or no./ (Anybody?) >Pepper Dust grunted softly above you. His apparently-normal dick did that thing where it sort of maxes out to like... tell you that it’s full and ready or whatever. >You ran you hand down one side of it and watched it sorta reset to its center position when your hand fell away, having reached the bottom. >He removed his hoof from you. /That’s progress,/ you thought to yourself. >You just... held it -- experimentally -- for a second. Although it now wasn't getting any /longer/, it stiffened under your touch. >You rolled it, like dough between your palms next, just seeing how firm you could get it. Above you, Pepper Dust’s wings shook like peacock feathers did. >It was so damn full you weren't really sure you could just slide your hand up and down without lubrication; the skin was stretched too tight. >You didn't want to just... spit on him, either. He might take it the wrong way. You took a breath. /There’s one way past this stage, Megaman./ >You put your mouth over the top and adjusted your lips a bit before getting started. He was fucking massive. You hoped to god he didn’t thrust. /You know what, I’m not leaving this one to chance./ >You took your mouth off of it for a second. >You didn't make eye-contact because you were embarrassed, however, you *would* manage to sound business-like. >You held up a finger, explaining: “Before we get any further, there’s no way I can take this whole thing, so just uhh...” >You were hot. “Just lemme... do it.” >He responded; “I've never met anyone who could take the whole thing, but... try your best.” >Sincere horror gripped you. You froze for a sec. >A pair of hooves from one side hugged you to his belly and lower chest, with that roll of flesh pinned partly under your chin. >Laughter shook him. “I’m just kidding, Anon.” >You weren't so sure. But unless EVERYONE had missed that he was an EVEN BIGGER SOCIOPATH THAN YOU, you'd be alright. >You also reminded yourself that you could probably hurl something at the pull string for the nurses to come to your rescue if things got really rapey. >You were sure you glowed in the dark a little bit from how hot the blush across your face was. You were semi-ready to get back to nomming on him. >Pepper didn't unhug you, though, he just held you with his central set of legs against him and stretched again, holding you about your middle against his faintly throbbing mothstallionhood, not quite thrusting, but just kind of rocking forward and gently into you, hitting you a little above mid-sternum. >He leaned back a bit guided you down, now, his hooves now on your hips, allowing your upper body to move a bit. >The top part of your stomach pushed against the lower part of his cock. You puffed it out to make more even contact. It felt good, actually. >You bent your neck down and opened your mouth. You took a second to figure out how your were going to breathe and then licked experimentally. >His hooves moved around to your back, two on the small of your back, and two just over your shoulders on either side of your neck. >They had a pleasant heat to them. You twisted your head back and forth slightly, those personal, clicky, spitty sounds punctuating the moments as you worked your tongue, lips, and cheeks on the vaguely rubbery shaft. >Your hands wandered down to lift at his sac and knuckle at the front of his perineum firmly. >Pepper swayed at your attentions, his hips moving up and down in kind of smooth, undulating thrusts. They were even, so you could just move with him. He did not attempt to change pace or move against you. >Little hums filled the air as you worked him closer. >Suddenly, his breathing fell way the hell out of synch with what it was before. >You readied yourself. You'd never swallowed before so this was going to be an experience... you weren't even sure if you should try but- >You licked a bit faster at him, although he was taking these little gasps in so fast you couldn't really keep up, what with your tongue still not being at 100% since what Moon Dust had done with you earlier that week. >He put a hoof on your shoulder and pushed back just ever so to get you to stop. >You guessed it was simply too much, despite your surely being pretty awful at giving head given it was your first time, and all. /Whelp. This'll be it then. I hope I don't fuck up and have this shit pour out my nose or whatever./ >You'd gotten here faster than you'd expected to you weren't quiet mentally prepared just yet. >Regardless, though, you just tried to breathe evenly and be ready and any moment. >Finally, that shallow gasping stopped and there was a still moment in the room, dead silent with no noise at all. >His whole body tightened. You prepared yourself. "Pssshwwwwwwwww!" he squeaked, then relaxed. >He rubbed one hoof at his nose. "Sorry." >It took you a second to process. >He'd sneezed. >That had been a sneeze. It wasn't over yet. >You wanted to complain but your mouth was still filled with mothy rod. >A few little mini-thrusts urged you to continue, like a child throwing their weight in a stroller or shopping cart, bidding you to get it moving again, but not in a position to really do it themselves. >You shook your head. >You weren't sure you could just get back the rhythm that you had. >You experimentally leaned forward a touch and tried to see how your mouth would react if you let him more than halfway in. >... >It wasn't quite as scary as what you thought now that you were warmed up at it, but there was no way you would try to go past your gag today. >You started into this sort of quasi-chewing on him, not with your teeth, but just with your mouth and lips, as if he were cookie dough ice cream or something. >He grunted at this, and pushed his hips forward -- not an upward thrust into your mouth -- but low and forward. >You took the signal to start kneading his balls in both hands. >Here came the steam. >You used all the force of your tongue now to grind along the underside of this bit of Pepperdust you had just inside you, rubbing it against the front of your hard palate. >He grunted right as you started that. >Yep. It was doing the trick. >You hugged around his back with one arm and ran your fingers through the roots of the fluff of his scalp, still massaging aggressively with your tongue. >Somehow, your other hand ended up in his mouth and he lapped at your fingers, covering them with a cool layer of smooth, silky spit. /Oral fixation, maybe? I guess he couldn't kiss me because my mouth's a little occupied./ >You didn't know why but this mothpony sucking on your hand, and lapping between the digits of it drove you a bit little wild -- in a good way, mostly -- but it did. >Before long he had taken to mimicking your mouth's actions on his cock with his on your hand, focusing right at the pinky finger and ring joints of your knuckle, but on the palm side. >You just rubbed him with your tongue, feeling very oddly the same gestures right back on your upper (distal) palm opposite your thumb. >It wasn't long before you noticed you were mirroring his little gestures as well. >It was like a very odd kind of 69. >He had you rubbing him with the underside of your tongue now, just gently, sweetly, before having you lap into the very tip. >His breathing got laboured. For real this time. That actual, familiar crescendo. >His eyes were closed, now, his tongue still weakly mirroring on two fingertips what you were doing on him. >He was like a locomotive just entering motion. >You piled on more coal. >Lap, lap, lap. >You alternated using the top and bottom of your tongue right on the point. >Lap, lap, lap. >As you continued, you could feel his little slit dilating. >It wasn't actually long before you could fit the tip of your tongue inside it. >This was weird, but you couldn't stop. And he had you damned hot playing with your hand like that... >He simulated the increasing level of penetration you could get by pressing your pinky away from your ring finger. >The lining of his cock actually tasted... good, in a way, though maybe you were just horny as fuck or something. Coulda been. >Pepper signalled you about the timing with his mouth. You fought his tongue slightly by trying to adduct and hold your fingers together against the wedge of his tongue. >You tongued the hole of his cock again. >You shivered as he succeeded in splaying your fingers apart. >He bit down ever so gently on your hand and lapped at the webbing between those two fingers. >You mirrored him in it at his cock. >1. 2. 3. 4. >You couldn't believe how much his urethra was able to dilate. >One last time. You weren't sure quite how you did it, but you somehow successfully inserted your tongue and twisted it along its main axis... something you'd never been able to do before. You twisted back and forth for as long as you could in him... 1. 2. 3. 4... >This was it. >You trembled and hugged him, shutting your eyes, as he held you gently. >You felt those waves through him working, knowing what they would bring up. >Your breathing synced with them, as had his. >At the last possible second, you breathed in. >Your body knew what to do, and swallowed at just the right speed to keep up, but also stay in rhythm. >Your throat actually felt really with those pellets going down, like an orgasm at your throat matching his peak in his... well. The usual place, obviously. /*Pellets,* though? Really?/ >There wasn't much time to think about it, but your brain recognized that although there was some free fluid, the bulk of the mass you were swallowing consisted of these fairly solid, rounded units of... >You weren't quite sure what they were, but they certainly weren't stopping. >You started counting... >By the time you reached up to 15 or twenty they'd slowed down, but were also getting bigger. >They were filling your stomach. >You weren't sure how you were doing it, as by this time they had to be goose-egg -sized by now. >You counted about five at that size... >Followed by one more that was just ever so slightly bigger, which you were able to down successfully although it almost fought your for a second in your neck. >You half-sprung, half-collapsed onto him, knocking him backwards into the moss. >His cock was sandwiched between the two of you, half limp, still twitching intermittently, but seemingly out of ammo. >He pushed a hoof out and rubbed at your belly and chest gently. >It wasn't clear just how he achieved it, but he carried you back to the bed with him and put you down in it. >You were dazed. You'd *essentially* had an orgasm and also eaten the equivalent of roughly a pound or two of cooked spaghetti, or whatever. >The feeling of stretch from your stomach was almost painful, but your mind was too hazy to really register it very well anyway. >You found yourself wrapped up in two sets of hooves and pulled in towards his belly. >Pepper Dust pulled the covers up. >Apparently his fever was down again, so he was cold. He was trembling. >You rubbed gently at one of his wings and you hugged him. >Together, you would weather that storm as well.