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That Night


The air was stifling.

Twilight curled up under her heavy covers, her eyes clenched shut. Innumerate facts and statistics ran through her brain in an excited, frantic procession, the last vestiges of her frenzied study session. She knew that there was no purpose in attempting to drive them from her consciousness; no point in allowing sleep to carry her away this early.

Her brother would be here any minute.

She expected it by now – even as she ran the names of the Equestrian dukes she had just learned about through her mind, half of her consciousness was alerted and tense, waiting for the tell-tale knocking at her door.

She could feel her heart thrumming in her chest. Anticipation and fear made her feel cold and clammy even under the suffocating envelopment of her bedsheets. Part of her wanted to hear it – it was inevitable, and she’d discovered that no amount of protest or negotiation would deter him. It was best just to get it over with as early as possible so she could sleep.

Thump.



A single collision of hoof on wood indicated that Shining was there. Without waiting for a response, he confirmed his proximity by pushing open the door and slipping inside. For a brief second, the light from the hallway illuminated him. After a few seconds he closed the door, and darkness occupied the room again. Twilight had long ago learned to close the blinds to prevent the brightness of the moon from betraying her brother’s identity.

It was worse when she could see him.

“Shining... what do you want?” she asked uselessly to the dark form she knew was her brother. More than once before she had tried to pretend that she had already fallen asleep, refusing to be roused at her brother’s continued prodding and poking. She abandoned the tactic upon discovering its futility.

Her brother didn’t answer her. He moved quickly to her bed without speaking.

She could hear his breathing, slow and heavy.

“Shining,” she said, allowing a slight whine to enter her voice. “I have school tomorrow. Early in the morning. I’ve got to get some sleep.”

She might as well have been talking to a wall. Implacable, her brother didn’t acknowledge her. She felt his heavy weight clamber onto the bed next to her, and she closed her eyes and turned from him as he buried himself under the covers and curled up beside her.

“Mom and dad are in the next room,” she said matter-of-factly as she felt her brother’s weight press into the mattress. The way he displaced the sheets was always the same, only a part of the tidying up she’d have to do when he was gone.

“They’ve been asleep for hours,” Shining whispered into her ear. She could feel the hushed, languid tracing of his tongue over every syllable as he sidled into position next to her. The first words he had spoken since his entry, assuring her as brothers did that her worries were in vain. There were no monsters under the bed tonight, though they might be elsewhere.

“Please, can’t you just go to sleep? I’m exhausted, and I have three tests I just finished studying for...”

Shining Armor didn’t respond. Twilight felt his counterpoint quite pointedly in fact, jabbing against the lower part of her haunches where her lamentably shapely behind met the rest of her legs. Shining Armor was warm against her; warmer than she would have liked. She clammed up when she felt him and clenched her hind legs together.

“Please,” she asked again.

Shining Armor jostled himself forward, lowering his mouth to Twilight’s neck just below her ear. He didn’t speak, but Twilight shivered as she felt his hot, heavy breath along her earlobe. Then his tongue, and then the rest of his mouth, slurping quietly at her skin.

She tried to bargain with him.

“I could just use my hooves. I know you like it when I–”

“Shh.”

A simple word, breathed into her ear as she felt her brother’s hoof on her side. His touch held the vestiges of a lover’s caress, but it was too hurried and jerky to mean anything. Twilight grimaced as she felt the shaky hoof run along her side, awkwardly caressing her stomach and thighs before moving to the part of her where she could already feel her brother’s skin.

Shining Armor pulled at his sister’s legs, insistent in his attempt to part them.

Twilight didn’t speak. She clenched her legs tighter, sealing them shut as best she could. Her big brother was much stronger than her, but prodding awkwardly with his hoof or something else wasn’t enough to prompt her to spread herself the way he wanted.

“Shining,” she cautioned, droning the word in the same voice she used to remind her brother it was his turn for dishes.

Twilight felt the hoof on her shoulder. More forceful here, where there was leverage. She braced herself against her brother’s weight but failed the impromptu test of structural integrity, falling forward onto her bed soundlessly but for the creak of the springs in her mattress.

Shining Armor turned her onto her stomach properly, his hooves rough, but gentle with the softest lingerings of sympathy.

Twilight didn’t speak to him. She stared into her pillow as though it was a painting, wishing it to open wide and invite her inside to some other world.

She felt a poking at her backside again. This time Shining’s hooves worked in tandem, and Twilight found herself spread against her wishes. She scrunched her face together in concentration as she tried to force her legs shut, but had no success. He was lined up behind her. There. Poking at her.

“Not so quick,” she cautioned, trying to scramble for some semblance of her own comfort.

True to his sister’s protests, Shining armor raked his hoof along Twilight’s private place and found it drier than the pillow her face was buried in. He moved the same hoof again, rubbing it back and forth in an attempt to elicit some kind of moisture.

Twilight didn’t make a sound. She felt barer than bone.

She gasped when her brother’s snout pressed between her thighs. His nose was cold, like a dog sniffing in search of a treat. Twilight grimaced and clenched a stray piece of bedding against her hoof, grinding her foot down on the fabric in an accusatory fashion, as though she could blame it for her predicament.

Her brother’s tongue was sloppy and wet. It felt like a cold washcloth slapping against her privates. The sound of Shining’s eager lapping made her feel sick to her stomach.

After licking for a minute or two, at last content with the level of wetness awaiting him, Shining Armor withdrew his face and lined himself up again. The tip of his member was still achingly dry, so he swirled his tongue around his mouth for a second and gathered up a deposit of his body’s own easily produced moisture.

Ptht.



Twilight cringed as she heard him spit. She felt a trickle of saliva drip down onto her leg where her brother’s aim had strayed from its target.

He leaned forward, and Twilight could feel him there. Pressing up against her. His mouth on the back of her neck, his breathing heavy and laboured in anticipation as he lined himself up.

“Hey, come on Twily.”

Come on. Like they were playing in the park. Come down the slide, Twily. It won’t hurt. Let’s play catch, Twily. You play outfield. Run off in that direction, and I’ll throw it to you. I’ll give the ball to you, and you’ll take it as far as you can go.

You can take it, can’t you?

Shining Armor’s crept his mouth to the side of Twilight’s face. His breath was so hot, Twilight felt as though it was peeling away at her skin. He tugged at her hair with his teeth, and Twilight bit her lip as she turned her head backwards; not in any approximation of what she thought her brother might want to see, but because she hoped that if she could feel the sting of her teeth through her lower lip’s flesh, she might wake up. She wanted her lips occupied before her brother’s attention took them from her.

Shining Armor didn’t ask again. When Twilight turned to face him, he kissed her, wet and hungry with his lips coated in the spit from his enthusiastic tonguing.

Twilight kissed him back. She couldn’t refuse to part her lips. There was no strength left in her.

But her kiss was reluctant, her eyes closed out of revulsion instead of enjoyment. The kiss gave her no pleasure.

Her mouth felt like sandpaper. Shining Armor’s lips were sticky against hers like a wet tongue on a dried out winter flagpole. She felt a tiny bit of skin peel off as her brother pulled his mouth away, his saliva lingering and hanging off the front her face, sticky like strands of dull-tasting honey.

There was no point in voicing her discomfort, she had realized. It granted her no reprieve; all of her protests seemed in vain, their apparent effect ended when they left her mouth.

Shining Armor ran his hooves up and down her body, massaging her gently. It was like he was trying to calm her down, acting as if he cared about her comfort. His hooves felt like a pair of loathsome spiders needling their way over her body, and it was all she could do to avoid shrinking away from their touch.

One of his hooves found its way to her face. With a gentle motion, he brushed and pawed at her mane. His hoof made its way down Twilight’s face slowly, its light touch sensual but clumsy.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered down to her. His voice sounded like he had swallowed gravel, low and rough with lust and emotion.

“I love you, Twily,” he said without waiting for a response.

“Okay,” Twilight responded. She knew what she had heard, what she always heard before he put it in. Her voice was mechanical and toneless, all of her emotions coalesced into a dull, dispassionate despair of inevitability.

“Twily,” Shining Armor repeated, the slightest consternation in his voice. “I said ‘I love you’.”

Oh.

She had heard something else.

“...I love you too,” she said after a brief pause.

She always said it back.

“I’m gonna put it in.”

There.

“Okay,” she said, her voice thick with exasperation.

‘Get it over with’, it said. ‘Hurry up.’

‘I love you,’ in a way.

He didn’t try to tease her. Familiar with the motions by now, he lined up his erection against her folds. His saliva served as the only lubrication as he pushed forward, soundless.

Twilight drew her breath in short, quick intakes. The pressure built on her lower-lips as her brother tried to push his way inside, finding her arid body unresponsive to his desires. After a half minute, Shining Armor grew frustrated with the proceedings and, with a muted grunt, gave a sharp push forward. Twilight winced.

It hurt.

“Shining-”

“Shush. It’ll be over in a bit.”

That was a lie.

“Just hold still.”

The bedsprings groaned as Shining Armor pushed forward and managed to lodge an inch inside of her.

Twilight cringed and bit down hard on her pillow.

“Ow.”

“You’re all right.”

“Just hurry up, okay?”

He pushed forward. The bed creaked again.

“Mom and dad are in the next room,” Twilight reminded him, distressed at the treacherous outcry of her weary box-spring as her brother pushed deeper into her with a series of frantically paced thrusts.

It hadn’t creaked when he’d first started. Now the springs were so worn they sometimes kept her from sleep as she tossed and turned at night.

“They’re asleep.”

Another thrust. Twilight bit down on the pillow.

Shining’s motion was jerky, like he was rubbing himself awkwardly against his bed instead of inside Twilight’s marehood. Like he was slapping his hard-on against his own belly, searching only for friction. Though Twilight knew her brother to be kind and considerate elsewhere, he was only interested in one thing right now, and as a result moved just like the teenage boys her mother had warned her about.

With every self-interested shove inside, Twilight winced, and the bed creaked alongside her in solidarity of protest.

“Shining,” she hissed as her brother jostled forward inside her again. His spit had begun to dry, which made Twilight thankful for the increase in friction only because she knew rougher texture on her brother’s member would get things over with quicker.

Her brother paid her no attention. He gave a particularly rough thrust, and the bed-springs groaned in lament.

“Shining!” she said, yelling at the sternest volume her whisper would allow.

To her relief, she felt her brother’s body pause, his significant weight resting on her with his two forelegs used sparingly for balance.

“What?” he asked, as though he couldn’t imagine what might be the matter.

“You’re too loud,” Twilight said, adjusting herself on the bed. She tried to shuffle forward, to pull herself away from the intrusive length of flesh inside her, but Shining jostled his hips to meet her without even thinking, keeping himself lodged inside like a plug to a hole that needed to be filled.

“I am not,” Shining Armor said simply.

“You are. The bed’s squeaking and mom and dad are gonna hear.”

“No they aren’t–”

“Shining!”

Twilight interrupted her brother before he could string along another placating protest. She knew that the feeling of her sore, unaccommodating marehood wrapped around her brother’s dick had blinded him to common-sense, more so than the nature of the act itself. If she had to put up with his intrusion, he should at least be able to accommodate her desire not to have her parents awake to find their two perfect children entwined in an incestuous engagement.

“Fine,” her brother whispered back, and shifted his hips to align himself more properly with the center of Twilight’s entrance.

To his sister’s request, at the behest of her admonition, he pushed forward; slowly this time.

Twilight bit down on her pillow. She could feel the tiniest bit of moisture building around her brother’s shaft, separate from the spit he had put there himself.

She could feel it, and she hated herself for it.

Shining Armor didn’t notice at first. He contented himself with another thrust, the necessity of his sister’s request for silence making him clench his teeth as he withdrew. Twilight’s slowly dampening insides pulled over every inch of his cock, and the increase in sensation made him grit his teeth, uncharacteristically muffling his own sound; a base-sounding grunt that Twilight felt in her ear from inches away.

He groaned as he buried himself properly.

Twilight tried not to think about it.

Shining Armor let out a contented sigh as he finally hilted inside his sister. He repositioned his legs to acclimate his posture for the coming motions. As he moved his legs, they pressed up alongside Twilight’s. The sweat that soaked them was a stark contrast to the drought of Twilight’s skin.

Twilight’s legs jittered in protest at the pressure being bearing down on them, as well as the intruding object above. It was awkward mating in her small bed, and Shining Armor dominated over her out of necessity. Every single inch of his body that could be in contact with her, was.

An objection rolled in Twilight’s throat, waiting to be deployed if her brother insisted against silence.

Her eyes opened when she felt a wet pressure on the back of her neck.

Shining Armor, after a few seconds, moved his muzzle and kissed down hard on another part of Twilight’s neck.

It was strange. It felt like something that a proper lover would do, swept up in love and passionate adoration for his partner. There was an insistence as Shining caressed the back of her neck with his mouth. A kind of assurance; as if he was trying to show, against all evidence, that there was no question of the love and affection he held for his sister.

‘Listen’ his kisses told her as he laid another one, heavy and wet, right below her ear. ‘I love you. You know that, don’t you?’ After a few kisses, he nuzzled his face into Twilight’s mane, burying himself in her hair and breathing deeply.

“Twilight...” he whispered, inches from her face. His hot breath grazed against her cheek.

She could smell the dinner they had shared hours ago. She resisted the urge to turn her eyes towards him.

“Is it okay?” His voice held a twinge of concern.

“Yes,” Twilight lied, formal and perfunctory.

Yes. Of course, it must be ‘okay’.

Soon, Twilight thought.

She buried her face in her pillow and bit down, assuming the position she’d grown accustomed to over the past few months. He would start the slow, gentle rocking soon, groaning softly with his teeth around her earlobe, and she would hate it but refuse to say a word, keeping silent with the pillow in her mouth like a gag, telling herself the mantra she had built up, over and over, telling herself it would be over soon enough, and she could get some sleep.

Every part of her felt sore.

Shining Armor surprised her when she felt his forehoof run under her neck, slowly making its way over the front of her body before finally settling under her chin. Gently, as if lifting some priceless work of art for an inspection, he pulled Twilight’s head upwards. She moved without protest; resistance was too much effort.

“Shining?” she said. It wasn’t an objection. Just a question of motivation, in the hopes that she could conform and have this whole thing over with that much quicker.

“Shh,” he answered, shortly. “You’ll like this.”

Before she could question his assurance, she felt it. With a slow, purposeful lick, Shining’s wide, wet tongue brushed up her horn. The effect was immediate; an electric spark of energy and titillation shot straight to her brain and spread rapidly through her body at the behest of her brother’s agonizingly measured motions. Involuntarily, without the protection of the pillow, Twilight let out the beginnings of moan, but stifled herself immediately.

The jolt pulsed through her a few more times with no further effort on Shining Armor’s part. It ebbed after a few seconds, leaving her entire body tingling with residual shivers in its wake.

“See? Told you,” he said, gloating in the aftermath of the unspoken bet he had won.

There was no use in denying; it felt good. Twilight answered the good feeling with guilt. She knew, being a well-studied unicorn, of the partial sensitivity of a young unicorn’s horn, but the carnal applications had never entered the equation of her understanding. She wondered briefly where Shining had figured this out before he enveloped the short, stubby protrusion with his mouth and started to suck.

Still reeling from the sensations of a simple lick, Twilight found it difficult to control herself as Shining Armor swirled his tongue around her horn.

“Mmmh.” An uncontrollable moan slipped through her lips.

Twilight’s heart raced faster as her brother continued his oral attentions. Her entire body felt like it was being massaged; poked, grabbed, prodded, a dozen electrified hooves running up and down her skin. She’d never felt like this with Shining before, and the lethargic composure that she adopted whenever he snuck into her room was beginning to fall away.

Shining breathed in and out through his nose, snorting hot air into Twilight’s face. His slurping wasn’t impassioned or heated – it was a slow and methodical movement, a hesitation and deliberateness born from the tentative application of a theory.

It still made her shiver and writhe underneath him. She could feel a pressure building inside. It pushed against every part of her body. The minute sensations that Shining Armor brought her from outright intercourse didn’t compare to this.

She opened her mouth to speak only to find her breath shaken from her as she panted for air.

“S-shining...”

His attentions slowed down, but didn’t stop.

“You’re b-being too–ah!.”

Twilight lost her words as her brother gave a particularly attentive lick along the base of her horn, running his tongue over her sensitive protrusion, slobbering over the length with abandon.

She wanted to tell him to stop even more now. She didn’t want to feel this way.

To a twisted sense of her relief, she felt her brother divert his attention from her horn as he moved his hips forward.

The weight on Twilight’s back increased as Shining Armor pressed her down into the mattress. He never rested his body-weight on his hooves – there was always just enough pressure to drive half the air from Twilight’s lungs, making her pant and wheeze into her bedding as her brother carried on.

Shining gave a quick lick as he pulled out, and Twilight muffled a gasp with her mouthful of fabric.

Slowly. He was moving slower than usual tonight.

Don’t, Twilight thought.

She felt wet. She didn’t want to be wet.

If Shining noticed his sister’s increased arousal, he recognized it only with the insistence of his thrusting. His movement was short, keeping the crescendo of rusty springs underneath to a minimum, but every stroke felt arduously elongated.

Twilight could feel every inch of her brother as he slid inside her. She could feel the size of him that she loathed, stretching her as his tip hit the furthest point inside, pressing up against her inner walls and forcing her teeth down on her lower lip through the pillowcase she had to try not to swallow.

She thought she felt a tiny spark from the tip of her horn as her brother bottomed out again.

Don’t, she thought again. She couldn’t bring herself to say it.

Don’t.

As Shining Armor moved, his attention dwindled from his sister’s special erogenous zone and focused more intently on his own pleasure. The movement of his hips, though slow and methodical, became slightly jerky as he revelled in the sensation of his sister’s unusually warm and damp insides. He grunted between breaths next to every other thrust, occasionally giving a noncommittal lick to his sister’s still sparkling horn. Otherwise, he occupied his snout in Twilight’s mane, sucking in deep breathfuls of her scent and taking strands between his teeth to bite down upon when he thrust with particular emphasis. The squeak his sister gave as he beared down on her with the full of his weight made him twitch inside her.

Eventually, Shining Armor found a rhythm. A rough, spastic back-and-forth that made his motions regular.

Twilight counted each thrust. Three. Four. A particularly rough shove, her brother’s pelvis grinding up against her backside, his skin pressing into her hindquarters. She could feel the extra twitch of his member as he contemplated the curvature of his sister’s behind.

He gave a little shove, still buried inside, before pulling back.

Seven. Eight.

Don’t, she prayed to herself.

Hate. She hated it. She hated the quiver of her body as it answered her brother’s motion. She tried to push it away; to ignore the way her lips clung to him. She hated the way she felt a tingle in her flesh with the remembrance of his tongue on her horn. The way, sometimes, as much as she loathed his size, she felt full, and it felt good.

Fourteen. Fifteen.

Shining Armor nipped down on her earlobe and grunted into her ear. The expulsion of hot air tickled, but Twilight didn’t move or smile. She bit down on her pillow harder, grinding her teeth hard enough to draw nonexistent blood from the fabric now slick with her saliva.

Thirty-two. Thirty-three.

She ended up counting most of the time. She hated it, because it made her feel every second. Every motion. She could tally her brother’s transgressions, building a concrete record of how much she resented him.

She washed the numbers away afterwards, huddling under the spray of her shower and wiping herself clean – but she wrote them down more often than not.

A hoof on her shoulder. Shining Armor bared himself forward, grinding insistently with the base of his shaft against his sister’s marehood. His grunt almost became a whinny, and Twilight considered chiding him for his volume for a moment. But it didn’t matter. Fifty. He didn’t often last more than fifty.

She could feel it in the way he moved. Shorter thrusts. The bed creaked as a warning, and Shining quelled his eagerness. But his thrusts stayed erratic. Jerky. Twilight could feel an extra hardness every time he moved forward. A ravenous, needy desire in the way he pressed down extra hard, forcing Twilight’s face into her pillow, burying her in his lust. She could feel the tightness of her passage increase as the anticipation of the end neared.

Over soon.

“Pull out,” she hissed. She could tell her brother was close.

He didn’t tell her. He had never told her. The first few times he had pulled out only seconds before, coating her ass and back in so much of the sticky white fluid that sprayed from his stallionhood that Twilight had been aghast, even in the throes of her resentment. The next few times he had been more considerate, his lust tempered by guilt, pulling out with due notice and finishing himself with his hooves, usually into Twilight’s blanket or on his own fur. From then on it had been a roulette wheel, the delivery of Shining’s payload dictated entirely by his mood at the moment of his climax.

Twilight showed him no thanks regardless of his methodology. When he finished, she closed her eyes and thought hard about staying awake, keeping away the comfort of her pillow so she could clean herself up when she was alone.

He was close. She could sense the signs by now.

But he hadn’t pulled out yet.

“Shining,” she said again, her voice thick with agitation and insistence. “Pull out.” She repeated the request with more urgency, turning her head and glaring at the oblivious stallion jerkily slamming into her over and over.

She hated looking at him.

Still, he didn’t answer. Twilight could feel the tightness of his balls as they slapped awkwardly against her leg.

“Pull out right now!”

She shifted her torso awkwardly, shoving her foreleg against her brother’s chest. She knew even the fullest extent of her resistance would never be enough to displace him, but she couldn’t let him go on. This was playing with fire.

Her brother kept moving as though he didn’t notice the resistance of Twilight’s shove. He kept on, eyes closed as the ecstasy of his closeness coursed through his veins.

“Shining... stop, please.” She turned from anger to pleading. Please. She couldn’t just let him finish inside. Out. He needed to pull out now.

Shining’s breath quickened. He began to suck in air through his nose as he clenched his teeth, drawing in deep hisses of breath between his nostrils. The sound shrieked into Twilight’s ear like a grinding saw, chilling her skin and thickening the sweat on her fur.

Too close. He wasn’t going to stop.

“I’ll scream,” she hissed at him. “If you don’t pull out I’ll shout for Dad. I swear I will.” The words rushed out of her in a single, panicked breath. The threat had no venom behind it, she knew. If Shining Armor had heard her through his mindless, greedy thrusting, he had come to the same conclusion, his pace not slowing even a bit. She might as well have threatened to summon Celestia to put a stop to this.

Twilight wanted to cry. She had allowed herself that moan, and she hated herself for it. What if her body’s treachery had given her brother some idea about an enjoyment of his visit? And now he was barrelling forward, unabated by Twilight’s fear of his proximity.

Hate. She hated it.

“Shining!” Her brother’s name, louder than anything had been since her brother’s entry, first or the second. She didn’t care. She begged him with the deepest plea she could manage; his name. Her brother’s name, asking him to stop, asking him to please, please pull himself out instead of letting go inside.

Shining Armor didn’t acknowledge Twilight’s voice. His body moved on autopilot, giving the last few spasms of lustful motion before his orgasm tipped him over the brink and his sister’s pussy pulled him to his goal.

Twilight slammed her hoof against her brother’s chest. She paid no mind to the thunk it made as she pounded against his sturdy frame. His chest was like a stack of bricks, unyielding to her protest. She was beating her hoof against a wall; an unsympathetic structure with no regard for her request.

“Stop! Stop!” She repeated the word over and over, each one with a pounding of her hoof. She felt no wetness in her eyes, but her voice shook with the closeness of her tears, brimming behind her irises in a race with her brother’s climax.

Shining recognized his own closeness at last. The hoof on his chest was just in the way. He shoved Twilight’s leg to the side as, with a final thrust and a groan loud enough to pass through the wall, he shoved himself forward, planting the weight of his whole body on Twilight and forcing her to the bed.

Twilight gasped for air to hang onto before her brother’s weight robbed it from her lungs. She felt swallowed by Shining’s body, overcast in every way as he slammed the hardness of his urgency into her one last time. She felt his hoof on the back of her neck, forcing her head down, burying her nose in the pillow and muffling her protests in the same motion.

“S-stop...” she murmured lamely into her pillowcase. The word barely made it from her mouth, its movement slowed by her lack of air and abject defeat.

She felt it. She could feel the tingle in the air every time, but this time she felt it for real. A twitch, and a jerk of his hips. The thing inside her spasmed. She felt it.

Her brother groaned into her ear, low and long, as he shot his first strand.

She wanted to cry, but the tears wouldn’t come.

It only lasted a few seconds; but that was no comfort.

Twilight clenched her eyes shut, trying to ignore the feeling inside her. She tingled with hyper-sensitivity, feeling every single inch of her brother that was embedded inside of her in vibrant tactility. Her walls betraying her and squeezing him, coaxing everything he had deeper inside of her – she felt that, too. She winced each time she felt his cock twitch and shot another spurt of incestuous seed into his sister.

She’d cleaned up his cum before, but that was only as part of a long bath; scrubbing the sticky substance from her coat vigorously with distant disgust – or from her bed after it was dried and flaky.

This was different. She could feel it now.

She’d never realized it was so hot.

It seemed to never end. Each spasm of his cock sent another strand of semen into her womb, accompanied by an almost undetectable thrust of Shining Armor’s hips as he rode out his orgasm.

All of her objections and screams and complaints and cries gathered in her throat and stuck there, and the only thing that could filter through and eminate clearly was a long, low moan of anguish.

Finally, after an eternity, her brother’s cock stopped surging, and Twilight could open her eyes. Her brother, concern for her comfort vacant, lay collapsed on top of her, limbs splayed awkwardly. He breathed heavy, exhausted, content sighs into her ear.

Twilight wasn’t sure how long they laid like that. She pushed her body against his lightly, trying to rouse him, but he was as oblivious to her attempts as he had been to her earlier protests. She couldn’t muster the strength to push him off; so she sat there, staring wide-eyed at her pillow, her tongue like taffy in her mouth, unable to move.

Shining Armor groaned, steadied his forelimbs on the bed, and picked himself up off of his sister. His softening member pulled out of her with an atrocious squelching sound.

“I can’t...you...” Twilight whispered, almost to herself. Disbelief.

He hadn’t pulled out.

Her murmuring was interrupted suddenly by Shining Armor’s hooves turning her around onto her back. He fell on her, and the bed-springs creaking loudly at the weight of their two bodies. Shining dove for her mouth, consumed by love – but missed. He contented himself with idle pecks on Twilight’s cheek and face before he found his way to her mouth and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Twilight didn’t have the strength to refuse.

When he broke the kiss and nuzzled beside her, burying his face in the pillow beside hers, she worried that he was going to fall asleep on top of her, his cock still resting inches from its familiar hole, cum still intermingled in long strands between the two of them.

“I have a test in morning,” Twilight said breathlessly to the ceiling.

At first, Twilight wasn’t sure that her brother had heard her. He didn’t stir. When she opened her mouth to repeat herself, however, he rose from her and hopped from her bed with a casual, almost indifferent blitheness.

Every part of Twilight’s body ached from exhaustion and fatigue. Now that she occupied her bed alone, it was all she could do to fight off the urge to collapse into sleep and relegate this incident, at least for a few hours, to the domain of a fitful nightmare.

Shining Armor didn’t flee without a word after finishing, as he was prone to doing in the past. Slowly, Twilight became aware that he was still standing there beside her bed.

Surprised, as if she had just noticed him there, and the creature that ravaged her moments ago couldn’t have possibly been the sweet, demure stallion that stood at her bedside now, Twilight turned to him.

Twilight’s eyes had grown accustomed to the darkness, and now she could make out the features of his face. A nervous, uncertain smile played at his lips.

“Good night, Twily” he whispered as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

She hated it. She hated herself, and how she felt. She hated how her body was still tingling, and a lingering, quivering pleasure still coursed through her, her primal urge towards satisfaction unable to cognize the impropriety of the situation. She hated how she could feel all the cum that Shining Armor had shot inside her. She hated how the trickle of liquid coating her skin felt like some foreign object was embedded deep in her body, making her insides burn and her entire lower half feel like it was on fire. She hated how, even now, she could feel it leaking from her, down her leg and onto to bed. She hated thinking about how much cleaning she would have to do before she could finally get some sleep. She hated how her mind wandered, unhurriedly, towards the future, with vague questions as to whether this incident had set a precedent, and whether Shining Armor would forever forward insist on finishing inside her. She hated wondering if her worst fears would be realized from this singular incident. She hated herself. She hated it.

“I love you too, big brother,” Twilight said, answering his smile with an uneasy one of her own.

Shining Armor stared at her for a few seconds. Satisfied after a moment, he finally hurried from the room, taking only one glance back at his sister before he shut the door behind him.

Twilight sat still in the bed, counting the seconds as they passed. Once before, on a particularly warm summer night, after Twilight had already cleaned herself off, Shining had returned to her room a second time and used her again. Ever since then, Twilight felt it necessary to wait until she was sure he had fallen asleep before bothering to clean herself off.

This time was worse. She couldn’t just stare at the cum sprayed across her bed sheets like it was some kind of caustic acid, loathing it, but still feeling like herself as she cleaned it up. This time she could feel it inside of her, making her feel full, and hot, and ashamed. She hated it.

With an exhausted sigh, Twilight, raw and sore, rolled languidly from her bed and made her way towards the pristine white towel she kept in her room. The one she visited every night.

She would scrub extra hard under the shower tonight.

But, no matter how hard she washed, she could tell already; there was no washing away her brother’s love.

That would be with her forever.