>after a long, tedious week of lying low and spending some time with your deviant mare, you finally have had enough
>it was during a game of some makeshift form of Jenga™ when you “snapped”, finally sick of dealing with this long distance oppression Luna was so courteous to send you
>there’s now one of her royal majesty Princess Asswipe’s guard that chills about ten yards from your door
>for murder’s sake, this fucker does not sleep
 >despite you and Pinkie playing nice these past seven days, you can’t help but wish the guy a dutiful misery of having to sit on his sorry plot almost 24/7
That is it. I’m sick of this shit.
>Pinkie: “I win?”
>you knock the wooden tower in one crude and quick tug of a block
Yes; not only do you win this game, but I have a little surprise just for the occasion.
>Pinkie: “Ooo, I love surprises~!”
>she tries giving you googly eyes in some sort of wavering conviction in bending you to her will
>the two of you have gone no further than kissing, and it’s quite clear she wants to take it a step further
>to hell if that’s going to happen under any normal circumstances
>at least she’s not taking ridiculous measures, i.e. sedatives, date rape drugs, vagina pumps
>you’ve cleaned her of any medical chemicals and “toys” she had once she brought them over
>and you won’t deny it, she has a large cache of sex toys for unknown and wily reasons
>they’re sympatheticly locked in a chest next to your iron one in the cold chamber residing in your basement
>you’ll see how long it takes for her to snap
We’re going on our first date.
>her eyes expand in disbelief
>she adores surprises, but this is a diverse one to her typical flavors
>Pinkie: “Our first date? But we’ve gone on several, silly!”
Pinkie, just because we go out, and we spend time together, doesn’t mean you can call it a ‘date’. No, this will be the real deal, and I’ll be damned if both of us don’t relish a worthy night tonight.
>she grins in glee, brushing her long sleek mane aside
>it’s yet to revert to its static state since the trial
>Pinkie: “A good niiiiight~? <3”
I know what you’re thinking, and the answer is no; I’m not interested in sex, and I haven’t been for almost a year. I don’t care how beautiful or seductive you act with me, I will… not…
>all she has to do is turn around, and BAM!
>her barely hidden marehood is dancing in your face, the tempting gift of the devil himself
>you’ve been lying through your teeth; you probably would enjoy and crave it more than she does
>but you won’t be yielding your pony virginity without one hell of a good fight
Will… will not be persuaded by your delightfully standard tactics. Please turn around and avoid luring me in with your fantastic physique.
>she giggles and obeys, plopping in the couch beside you
>you reach down and give her a tender kiss, your lips caressing hers in a tight and endearing embrace
>Pinkie lets a slow passionate sigh when you separate from her
>Pinkie: “You do know how to talk to a mare’s heart, don’t you?”
Bleh. With you, it’s effortless. Before I began my ‘business’, I had to sweet talk every mare and stallion with power, persuasion; my silver tongue rose me to secret greatness. However, for what is likely the first time here, I can’t help but admit that I, that is to say…
>she’s already close to your face, yet she somehow manages to lean in closer
>Pinkie: “Yesssss….?”
I’m attracted to you, and don’t you dare think that this has any extra influence on me at all.
>Pinkie: “Sure~! Anon, can you get me some milk and cookies?”
>you almost fell it, you half-enslaved dog you
Go plow yourself and get your own.
>Pinkie: “Tehe, you nearly went to get them, too~!”
Fuck off! We’re going to Canterlot, tonight. I’m going out, I’ll be back soon.
>just to clarify, it’s about early afternoon, and Jenga™ has been played more than Warhammer™ references in an AiE thread
>not that you personally understand that allusion, you just felt it was needed to be said in retrospect
-----
>off you go, lock after lock clicking open after you don your usual get up
>you only keep a single knife on you now, well hidden unless the need arises
>it’s somewhat obvious after the trial that you’re quite capable of fucking a pony’s shit up if they rub you the wrong way
>perhaps not the most charming asset added to your virtues, but you’ll press it if you must
>that guard is ogling at you like your footsteps leave the pathway dipped in gold
>as you pass him, you jump around and bellow “boo!”
>you’re rather serious when you make the claim that you think he pissed himself, and you continue your trek across Ponyville
>after Fluttershy’s somewhat dramatic funeral, the pony population has seemed more hesitant to deal any business with you
>again, not the most pleasing side effect, but what can you do?
>a mare tried killing you, you defeated said mare
>now her ghost leaves a trail of gloom behind you that jacks up the storekeeper’s prices
>you knock on Rarity’s door once more, and after listening to some interesting sounds of shuffling and muffled yells, she materializes herself at the door
>Rarity: “Oh, Anon! I’m so sorry, but right now I really can’t have any visitors-“
>behold a modest size bag of 14K sapphires
>her pupils turn into the size of grapefruit, and she rolls them around in annoyance of such a respectable opportunity
>Rarity: “Ugh, fuck it, as long as you can keep a secret.”
>you give a nod and follow Rarity in
>it appears that Twilight’s assistant, Spike, is now playing as Rarity’s subordinate for the day
>by that you mean he’s being suspended by ropes, and is in a full body leather suit
>you ignore whatever BSDM scene you’ve forced your way into, and begin your request
Rarity, sweetheart, I know it appears you’re somewhat… busy, but…
>Rarity: “Oh, don’t mind him; he can wait just a moment!”
>she turns to him, and he whimpers through his ball gag
>Rarity: “SHUT IT YOU LITTLE CRETIN anyways, what can I make you this time?”
I need a dress suit, something for myself to take out Pinkie to Canterlot in.
>she gasps in admiration
>Rarity: “A date with Pinkie, in CANTERLOT? I daresay, you must be quite the impressive fellow if you plan to take her there! I must admit, I may be a tad jealous.”
Don’t be. I’ve turned down Pinkie on numerous occasions in regards to… similar topics.
>you gesture to the humiliated Spike, whose poker facing whatever wall his rotating harness will permit him
>Rarity: “You’ve been dating for HOW long, and you two STILL haven’t done the dirty deed? Anon, must I tell you that this time of year that we mares are, well… how do I put this?”
>your face turns to stone
Are you serious?
>Rarity: “Quite so, I’m afraid. It happens a few times a year, and us ladies get this, well, ‘incredible urge’, if you catch my drift.”
Great. I wonder if Pinkie is in that sort of mood.
>Rarity couldn’t stop a giggle from escaping her
>Rarity: “If I may be so bold to ask, has she made any attempt to seduce you?”
Yes…
>Rarity: “Then she is, it’s quite simple as that. Spike here is such a sweetheart, helping me out~!”
>Spike: “Mmmph!”
>Rarity: “SHUT YOUR USELESS TRAMP MOUTH YOU INADEQUATE WHORE.”
What about Twilight? Isn’t he her assistant?
>Rarity: “*Ahem* What about her?”
>you shut up, the venom laced in her words more than apparent
>gratefully she takes this as her chance to begin the elaborate process of making you a fine outfit
-----
>not even an hour later, you have a finely crafted get-up in your possession, and after sending your farewells to Rarity and Spike, you’re off to head back home
>it appears the guard stationed by your home is diligent enough to keep his position, although he’s now about four feet to the left
>did he follow you, or did he go somewhere to wipe the piss that went down his leg?
>only he will know
>for now
>you enter your home to see Pinkie Pie with one of your prize steaks
>now, these fuckers were hard to get
>bearing in mind that the original creature  was considered a sentient being, it therefore could be measured up to murder, to a degree
>you don’t know the rules, but you’re pretty damn sure you’d be fucked if someone caught you with a steak of one of their good friends
>you know how hard it was to stealthily kill a talking cow? But you digress
>what’s a matter of concern is the fact is that one of said steaks has been cooked and is being eaten by someone other than you
>it just so happens to be your marefriend
Pinkie.
>she has a fork and knife in her hooves, and she looks at you solemnly as she stops trying to cut your steak
>Pinkie: “Yes?”
You understand what that is, correct?
>Pinkie: “It’s pony, right?”
Eh, no. It’s actually cow. Back in my previous days, humans would eat cattle.
>she looks down at the meat and grimaces, unsure what to do before returning her attention to you
>Pinkie: “Does it taste good?”
Pinkie, by my knowledge, ponies are herbivores, and as a result I’m sure you shouldn’t eat any sort of meat.
>she frowns at you in an innocent manner, as if she’s become timid from some sort of insult
>Pinkie: “But… but I have eaten pony before!”
>sweet, your lassie is a cannibal
>at least you’re a different species
Alright, and what did you think of it?
>she gives a dastardly grin, and you know she’s about to say something wicked
>Pinkie: “I used to bake them into cupcakes and give them to other ponies, and I love eating them myself… they taste just like my friends.”
>she finishes this with an enthusiastic nod, and you don’t know whether to be shocked or kiss her
>her sweet, innocent way of saying such foul things arouses feelings in places you’ve kept locked for a long time
>thankfully, you keep your mouth and tongue in check, and resort to sitting beside her and ruffling her mane
>Pinkie: “Anon~! Don’t be mean to my hair!”
>you hold your hands out near her hooves
>she understands the gesture and hands over the silverware
Now, if I remember correctly, horse meat is a bit strong, and very stringy. Cow meat is considered more tender and succulent, if you will.
>you cut out a piece to find that she has it medium-rare; apparently once it turned brown, she thought it was thoroughly cooked
There’s different ways to cook cow, or rather different levels. Some humans prefer more pink in the middle, others prefer it to be completely cooked.
>Pinkie: “Is pink good or bad?”
>you feel like this is a loaded question, but you answer honestly
Essentially, pink is bad because it’s raw, and it can lead to diseases if you eat it too raw. On the plus side, the taste of the slightly pink meat is very enjoyable.
>she tries to calculate this into a joke
>Pinkie: “So pink is bad… but it tastes good?”
>you set the knife down, and bring up the fork to her mouth
>she doesn’t argue with the notion of her sweetheart feeding her an illegal delicacy, and so opens her mouth
>you slide the fork in, and she slightly clamps her teeth down, allowing the morsel to remain with her tongue as you pull the utensil out
>she is doing this trying to keep eye contact with you, as if this is some sort of sexual act
>steak is not your fetish, and you set down the fork to watch her enjoy the tasty treat
>she chews, and grinds her teeth some more
>it appears she’s enjoying it to an unexplainable extent, and with a final gulp she smiles
>Pinkie: “That was pretty good, Anon. It’s weird, compared to cake and other veggies, but it has a nice juicy taste to it.”
Well, since you cooked it, might as well eat it. However; you’re not allowed to touch that food without asking me. Also, I’m taking half of this one.
>she goes to give some sort of complaint, but you reach around her, pick her up, and pull her into a deep kiss
>your tongue slides into her mouth, tasting the juices of the meat still settling on her tongue, along with her own saliva
>she doesn’t even bother fighting back her own tongue, but rather teases you with it, sliding around your tongue erratically
>when you separate, you notice three things:
>she’s panting heavily, possibly from breath loss
>there’s a slight damp spot felt where she’s sitting on your lap
>and you have one killer erection
I guess was right, pink *does* taste good.
>she chuckles sweetly, ready to go for a second round
>you need to confirm a few things, first
Pinkie, you’re currently in heat, aren’t you?
>her ears droop, like she was caught stealing one of your better knives
>Pinkie: “…You know about this time of year?”
Yes, but that leaves my own question unanswered, change that.
>Pinkie: “Yes, I am.”
And how long have you been in heat?
>Pinkie: “… Four days.”
>you don’t know if it’s normal for a mare to suffer on for so long, or if she’s mentally crazed at the moment, but she’s doing a swell job nonetheless
>despite the occasional flirting, you didn’t notice anything that struck you as odd
How are you feeling, right now?
>she gives you a look of a scornful mare
>Pinkie: “Must I answer that?”
Under normal circumstances, no. However, I need to understand some of these things, unless you want me to talk to Twilight about-
>Pinkie: “Anon.”
>ruh roh
Sorry, figured I could tease you a bit.
>Pinkie: “It’s been hard. I’ve been spending a lot of time with you, and you locked away my, err… ‘toys’ for times like these, so I haven’t been able to do much. It’s been making me incredibly horny and somewhat irritated, and quite frankly I want to kill something right now.”
>note to self: don’t piss off Pinkie Pie in heat
Hm. Why didn’t you point this out to me, before?
>Pinkie: “Because I… I know you’re not interested in such activities, even with your marefriend. So I’ve been quietly waiting for it to end, and hopefully I won’t-“
>she whips around, grabs the steak knife, and slams into the wall beside your good ear
>Pinkie: “Let my temper get the better of me.”
Two things. The first is, naturally, don’t slam knives into my wall. It’s a hindrance to patch holes, and the goddesses know Luna will do her damn best to turn the small knick in the house into a murder scene.
>she sheepishly pulls out the blade, letting it plop on the couch
>Pinkie: “Sorry.”
It’s fine, but know that only the mare that has my… sigh, my heart could pull that stunt and not turn out dead within minutes.
>she blushes and gets all upset over nothing, placing her head against your chest and  clinging around your midriff
>you’re flustered yourself for saying such fruity words, especially in reflection of the fact that they’re true
>Pinkie: “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Stop apologizing, especially if you’re not going to explain why. However, since it’s obvious, I’ll let that part slide. The second note of concern is, are you going to be alright to our date in Canterlot tonight?
>she stares off across the room, as you place a hand on her flank, and the other down her mane
>Pinkie: “I’ll be fine.”
Can you promise that? Because not even a minute ago you irrationally reached for a blade and swung it. I can’t possibly term that as ‘fine’.
>she mumbles something, a tear or two dropping
>you can’t have that, now can you?
>you massage up and down her spine, stroking her mane in a delicate manner
Would you like me to leave and let you care of the problem?
>Pinkie: “No.”
Would you like me to grab some of your ‘items’ to help relieve yourself?
>Pinkie: “…No.”
Would you like me to watch?
>you slyly wink at her as she turns to face you, and she favorably grins in response
>Pinkie: “Anon! You can’t tease me like that, it’s mean~!”
I’m not teasing, and I’ll do you one better.
>Pinkie: “Do you… one… better…?”
>guess that’s not exactly a catchphrase in Equestria
>you’re also not sure as to whether the plan you’re about to execute is a promising one
>like life and Yahtzee™, sometimes you have to roll the dice
Turn around.
>Pinkie: “Anon…?”
Did you not hear me? I said to rotate yourself, and help me locate you into proper position.
-----
>she doesn’t know if you’re serious or not, but she complies nonetheless
>you don’t know if you’re staid either, but you lack a single fuck to give
>if fucks were your dagger, its edges couldn’t cut warm butter on a midsummer afternoon
Remember when I promised you that I’d make sure you’re content when you’re with me?
>Pinkie: “Uh huh…?”
There are no exceptions.
>you grab around her belly to press her against your abdomen, and lick your fingers up
>her head is defying the restraint of her spinal cord as she watches your imitation of finishing up some KFC
>finger lickin’ good
>not that she knows what you’re mentally humoring yourself with
>Pinkie: “Anon… are you sure?”
Pinkamena Diane Pie.
>she hates it when you say her full name, but she also knows that you say it to show that you mean business
>it’s a mixed contrast of contempt and worry
>Pinkie: “W-what?”
I don’t know how to explain this in an elaborate sense, and I mean it in the lowest form I possibly can, for now of course, but in definition of my conclusion to this is-
>you’re going on one hell of a tangent and run-on sentence, so you decide to simply it in three little words
I love you.
>her mouth hangs open in shock
>it seems the phrase is synonymous with “I killed your mother and used her to keep warmth for the night”
>you scratch behind your ear with your slobbered up fingers, annoyed at the reaction
What, too soon? I don’t know how to say it more properly. ‘I really like you times two’? What the hell am I supposed to say that shows I’m romantically inclined to you and I want to care for your better interest at this stage in-
>you almost lost a tooth when she slammed her face into yours
>you first thought was that she headbutted you
>until you felt her tongue
>alright, so she’s happy, you think
>this is suitable
>when she blows out all of her lustful steam with that enthusiastic kiss, she looks at you with such breathtaking eyes
>no wood carving could capture the marvel of her magnificent pupils
>a twinge of regret for wanting to end her long ago takes a small jab at your heart
>she may have been a killer, but so were you; she had a similar goal, and parallel duties
>the corniness factor may be obscene at this point, but you realize that ever since the moment you found that little slip with your number on it, you might have developed a small crush on her
>a miniscule one, mind; it just so happens that spending a couple months with her has caused it to grow on you
>like a lovable wart that you named Pinkie
>you could burn it off at any time
>but you won’t
-----
Explain yourself, before I have to lock myself in my basement and wallow in confusion.
>Pinkie: “*Serious face* I love you too, Anon. Hehe~!”
>she begins giggling and snorting
>Pinkie: “It’s so fun to say, I never knew! I love you, I love you!”
Don’t be overusing the phrase. It’s quite special, so don’t expect me to say it unless I absolutely mean it.
>she pouts at you like you just cancelled her next birthday
>Pinkie: “Do you love me, Anon~?”
>this fucker is going to be the end of you, you swear
Yes.
>Pinkie: “Hehehehe!!”
Bite the pillow, I’m going in dry!
>Pinkie: “Huh- EEP!”
>you slip in two fingers into her marehood, your now dry fingers instantly met with a gush of fluids
>damn, she’s torrenting in there
>and now her hooves have a death grip on your supporting arm
Are you alright?
>you look at her, and she’s literally foaming a small amount of cotton candy from the mouth
>she’s in some sort of sexually induced catatonic state now from the shocking pleasure
>giving it a taste, it’s indeed some sort of naturally made cotton candy
>and this is your special pony
>life may just be worth it
-----
>wiping the cotton candy from her chin, you continue your venture as you slowly pump your fingers rhythmically
>her throat seems to be working fine, because it soon made an odd gurgling noise, her body slump limp to yours
>you’re debating whether or not you should stop and check for a pulse
>you decide to do so, but hell breaks loose when you pulled your hand out
>she gives a muffled noise of sorrow, and looks back up you
>Pinkie: “Why’d you stop, Anon~~~?”
Just making sure you’re alive. I don’t enjoy the concept of jerking off a dead horse.
>Pinkie: “Meanie! Meanie beanie feeni- OH!”
>guess whose hand just went back in
>she’s making legitimate moans now, her voice traveling to interesting pitches and tones
>you direct her face to yours, stifling the sound with your mouth as your hand speeds up for a quick performance
>it’s a clash of the tongues, a battle of dark lust covered in silliness
>you still can’t figure out if she’s a better comedian or killer
>perhaps both are equally good
>it wasn’t even a minute before she came, a interestingly colored and small flood of juices quietly flowing over your pants
>she seems embarrassed by this, and tries to tuck her legs together
Relax, you’re doing fine, sweetheart.
>Pinkie: “I’m sorry, I didn’t think that it would do that much…”
Welcome to the game of lust, love, and delicious desserts.
>not satisfied with such a meager orgasm, you interrupt her panting with an onslaught of fingers once more
>she’s upset at first, unable to control herself, but she soon grapples your hand to somehow make it go faster
>you oblige, and she squirms in bliss
>you hold her in place with both tongue and arms, and within minutes she reaches her climax again
>thankfully it’s not as drizzling
>she’s equitably easy to please as always, your arm worn-out and her body filled with sexual exhaustion and ecstasy
>she pecks you an affectionate kiss on the cheek
>Pinkie: “I’m sorry I made you do this, Anon, and… thank you, again. You’re always there for me no matter what, huh?”
I’m your boyfriend, or coltfriend, whatever it is. This was as much pleasure for me as it was for you!
>you manage to pull a smile at her, and her already flushed face begins working an even redder blush
You better learn how to suck a mean dick soon, though, if this is what it takes to relieve you.
>the words are entirely left-field coming out of your mouth, but your joke took a different play in Pinkie’s mind
>Pinkie: “Can I~?”
No. We need to clean up, and in a couple hours we’ll be hitting the station to spend a night in Canterlot’s finest hotel.
>her face amplifies with an thrilled smile
>Pinkie: “Reaaaally?”
Oh yeah. I have a few things of entertainment that supposedly are occurring tonight, and we might find some random hobo to kill for funsies, too.
>hobos plague the streets, they are a danger to modern society
>they too must be eliminated
>Pinkie: “Sweet, a party~!”
>end