Big Macintosh gulped, well and truly on the spot.
Everything had been going so well. The dinner was delightful, his companions gratified and relaxed, even the special dish he’d ordered them—simple grass but with fresh morning dew just catching the first rays of sun—had been available that evening. It’d been a gamble, because the stuff wasn’t always available: it was a specialty of the chef’s.
And then the snooty blue-maned waiter, so fancy in his little white spats and little mustache and little red bow tie, had presented a bill that made Big Macintosh’s eyes pop out—and just stood there, not even twitching an ear… waiting to be paid.
Unless Big Macintosh missed his guess, the finely dressed cream-colored waiterpony would have to wait for a long time, because he hadn’t brought any money.
“Thankee,” repeated Big Macintosh weakly, making feeble waving-away motions with a hoof.
“Your BILL, m’sieur,” repeated the waiter. He narrowed his eyes.
Big Macintosh abandoned the waving-away gestures, and in desperation resorted to a beckoning-closer gesture. The waiter’s eyebrow lifted until it was nearly above his head, but leaned in.
“Ain’t got no money ’til the end of th’ week,” whispered Big Macintosh furtively. “Kin I catch up with you then?”
The waiter’s eyes widened. “Catch… up with you?”
“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh, indicating him with a gentle red-fetlocked hoof.
“Moi?
“Naw,” said Big Macintosh, “jes’ to give you the money. Ya don’t gotta kiss me.”
“M’sieur!” objected the waiter.
“Wull,” said Big Macintosh, flustered, “you kin if you want. I kiss Braeburn a lot. That mustache might tickle, though.”
The waiter’s eyebrows were heading for a low orbit of Equestria. Marble giggled. Hina frowned, and cleared her throat.
“Though you may expect happy hedonism,” she said, “I fear this is a conflict. Say that we apologize. We will make things right.”
“Beg pardon, ma’am?” said Big Macintosh.
“This stallion will not kiss you,” advised Hina. “We have offended.”
Big Macintosh blinked at her. “Ain’t you ever been in Ponyville before?” he said, but he got no further.
“M’sieur!” interrupted the waiter. “It is outrageous, the idea! That I should with you be kissing, neglecting my work!”
“Uhhh… sorry?” said Big Macintosh. “I really ain’t got no money. An’ I got to go take care of some things, but I will be back…”
“Kisseng the cowpony Braeburn!” hissed the waiter, his ears folded in dismay. “It is for you to have, the cowpony dicking!”
“Now jes’ a minute,” objected Big Macintosh, blushing.
“Certainly, here you come, our food you eat and then it’s gone you are, to the dicking of the horse formidable!” protested the waiter, sounding more Fancy by the second.
“We apologize,” said Hina firmly. “I promise we will come settle this debt of honor…”
“We better go,” mumbled Big Macintosh. “I done messed this all up, Ah’m real sorry.”
“Non!”
Big Macintosh blinked. The waiter had pressed the back of his hoof to his forehead in dramatic dismay, his teeth bared in eloquent anguish. They waited for him to explain.
The waiter sighed. “Go! To the cowpony! To the kissing, and later with the paying. Go, m’sieur!”
“Thankee,” said Big Macintosh, but suddenly the waiter’s hoof was barring his path.
“There is the condition!”
“Where?” blinked Big Macintosh.
The waiter took a deep breath, and tried again. “It is the condition.”
“What condition do you mean?” asked Hina, very politely.
A tragic look crossed the waiter’s face. “M’sieur. When you go, to the embracing of the cowpony Braeburn, it is to remember the kindness extended by me, and even after or before the paying of the bill, to take mercy upon the one who, in a spirit of loving pony kindness, sent you freely and with liberty on your way.”
Three pony jaws dropped.
Big Macintosh shook himself. “Uhh… kin you say that, not in fancy?”
The waiter concentrated. “Ummm… I say this! Go, to the kissing and the dicking, yes. This alone I ask. When next you go behind the barn with Braeburn…” and his lip quivered. “Introduce me to him?”
Suddenly, it all became clear to Big Macintosh. Ol’ Braeburn always did work all the sides of as many fences as he could jump. This fancy waiter had obviously seen him at it but was afraid to say hello, possibly because he knew he’d say it in an overly convoluted fancy way and Braeburn wouldn’t understand him. Marble and Hina, on the other hoof, just looked puzzled.
Big Macintosh rose, reached out, and gave the fellow a hug, trying not to dishevel his snazzy collar and bowtie.
“Eyup. Ah will, and I’ll tell him you was nice to me and my friends, too.”
The waiter’s eyes widened. “You will?”
“Sure. I reckon he’ll like you, mister…?”
“Savoir Faire,” breathed the waiter, entranced.
“Sure,” said Big Macintosh. “Ah advise the kissin’ first. On account of, if you let him get on that perty cream colored rump first, he prob’ly ain’t waitin’ for kissin’.”
“Eee!” squeed Savoir Faire, bouncing off all four hooves unexpectedly. Big Macintosh jumped back, and heads turned at tables all around, but by the time they were pointing the right direction, the elegant waiter was back in command and betraying no signs of glee, except for a sparkle in the eye. Big Macintosh, Hina and Marble had seen it, however.
“I’m good for th’ money,” reassured Big Macintosh. “Gettin’ paid at the end of the week.”
Savoir Faire lifted an elegant eyebrow. “You are the brothair of Boss Mare of Sweet Apple Acres. And of the bearer of the Element of Honesty.” He shrugged, knowingly. “You’ll pay.”
“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh. He hesitated. “Is that all?”
“Non!” said Savoir Faire. “Pat my bottom. For the luck!”
“Huh?”
“Do eet!” begged the waiter winsomely. He pivoted, presenting his creamy rump and flicking his tail.
Big Macintosh solemnly gave his pony posterior a pat-pat, with a big gentle hoof.
“Ee!” squealed Savoir Faire, but this time it was an even briefer squee, finished well before ears at neighboring tables could swivel.
Elegance and refinement reacquired, the waiter bowed to them, and headed back to the kitchen like a sailboat unhurriedly slinking across the water, making no noise and rippling no waves, bound for its home port. He skirted tables effortlessly, invisible like a fine waiter, his eyes automatically making a scan of his tables and finding no trouble to concern him.
He disappeared into the kitchen.
“Eee! ee! ee!”
Ears all across the restaraunt turned, but there was nothing to see. Just the sound of giddy squeeing, and the distinct noise of a pony repeatedly pronking into the air off all four hooves and bouncing all over the kitchen, and the cook amiably yelling, “Settle down, whistle-britches!”
Hina quirked an ear. “There’s certainly no evil or bad feelings in here. On the contrary. What is this good you have done?”
“Sharing,” said Big Macintosh. “Ah reckon we can go now?”
Marble didn’t object, she just got up and began following his lead again. The Kirin, casting benevolent smiles all around her, did likewise—and the three departed the restaurant in the same tight formation they’d entered with. Big Macintosh leading the way, and two different sorts of mares pressing to his sides affectionately.
His ears quirked in thought. It was rather nice. It was a bit scary, though, in an expected, familiar way. For years, ponies had been seeking his attentions, whether that be Fluttershy or Braeburn or even Princess Luna, and they’d all been following his lead. Not since his first love, Rarity, had anypony been arrogant enough to…
“Whut?” said Big Macintosh, feeling a little cloven hoof poking his withers.
“Take us home, silly!” laughed the Kirin. “You are spacing out! It’s time to make love to this earth pony mare!”
Marble blushed. “Mmm…”
Big Macintosh blinked. “Ma’am? That’s nice of you to say, but… what if she ain’t ready?”
“Yes she is,” said Hina confidently.
Big Macintosh felt Marble nodding her head, beside him. “Mm-hm,” she said.
“Eyup,” he found himself saying, and homeward he walked. Not too fast, because the mares were having too much fun nuzzling against him. His ears quirked again.
“Ma’am?” he said. “You jumpin’ my bones tonight? Scuse my fancy.”
Hina laughed a happy little laugh. “Oh no no! I am far too distractingly beautiful. My job is to guide you two! Your joys are my only wish.”
“Eyup,” said Big Macintosh. He frowned a little, and glanced down to check the Kirin out again. She was still strange and beautiful, mighty small and slender like a fashionable Canterlot unicorn, and absolutely scintillating with confidence and personality.
On his other side, Marble Pie nuzzled him tentatively, as if she could sense his distraction. He glanced over that way, ready to apologize if he’d hurt her feelings, but he got nothing more than a serene and rather awestruck gaze.
“Whatcha thinkin’?” asked Big Macintosh.
“It’s actually good that she’s going to be, um, sort of intense,” said Marble apologetically. “I’m glad you won’t mind too much.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve never had a stallion before,” explained Marble. “Please don’t mind how intrusive she’s going to be, I’ll need all of the foreplay. It won’t seem like I need that much, but you’re so huge that it turns out to make all the difference.”
Big Macintosh knit his brow. “How’d you know that, ma’am? It’s true enough, but you’re sayin’ it all funny.”
“Mm…” said Marble, and fell silent.
“I am in a barn!” exclaimed Hina, enthralled.
“Uh… eyup,” said Big Macintosh. “This is my room. Used to be in th’ house, but things happened and I got more room to move out here. It’s private.”
“You move in a way that would knock down a house?” gasped Hina, glancing worriedly at Marble.
“Nope! I jes’ might not want my sisters to be here right now,” said Big Macintosh.
“Oh, I see,” said Hina. “You don’t want the other ponies to be watching you.”
“Not with such a nice, shy lil’ mare ta be with,” said Big Macintosh. “Says she come all the way from the rock farm jes’ to make love to me? Well then, I reckon I’m gonna give her an extra nice, sweet, PRIVATE special time.”
The Kirin beamed, completely failing to get the implication. “I will help!”
“Yeah?” said Big Macintosh, scuffing a hoof on the dirt floor.
“Why, of course!” said Hina. She bounced merrily on all four hooves, and then trotted around behind Marble, who eeped. Marble eeped again, with a little whinny of alarm, as Hina slapped her bottom with a cloven hoof, studying the ripple of tender pony buttock, and then nosed in to investigate Marble’s vagina with a determined, businesslike look.
“See here, Miss Hina,” said Big Macintosh sternly.
Hina turned, smiling. “I think it will work. She is a healthy young mare! I would like to gauge your size.”
“Wull,” objected Big Macintosh, “you’re thumpin’ her behind like she’s a farm animal!”
“But you are,” explained Hina soothingly. “Step this way?”
Big Macintosh bridled, for he didn’t like the faintly panicked look in Marble’s eye. She seemed not quite ‘flower pony’ grade in her alarm, but still more skittish than he liked.
Hina, the Kirin, had other ideas for how to fix that. She patted Marble’s rump soothingly, scritched her dock until she lifted her tail, and ran a cloven hoof up and down the inside of Marble’s thigh, all while Big Macintosh watched. It would have seemed like lesbian pony foreplay, except that Hina somehow didn’t seem personally interested. It was just as Big Macintosh said: the Kirin was attending upon Marble as if seeing to the breeding of a farm animal.
Big Macintosh was about to object again, for Marble’s tail was flicking about in agitation when…
“There it is!” cooed Hina. Marble’d winked, good and hard.
Big Macintosh’s eyes widened, and he wrinkled his nose appreciatively at the scent of delicious marepussy. He still backed off a step, but he felt his body reacting.
Hina ducked down and darted a quick look under him. “Ah, she will like that! But yes, she needs more warm-up.” She turned to Marble, fondling her green-gray rump affectionately. “Yes you do! You will have such a good time! But not until you’re ready!”
“Miss Hina!” protested Big Macintosh. “We’re ponies, not… cows or somethin’!”
Then he quieted. It wasn’t because Hina had favored him with just as condescending a gaze, prepared to soothe him in turn before coaxing him into the inexperienced mare. No, it was the unexpected clarity of Marble’s glance. She’d turned her head to face him, though he was still staring up her hind end, and she spoke to him firmly.
“Please!” said Marble. “This is how this goes. I warned you she’d be like this. I… I like it.”
“Ya do?” blinked Big Macintosh. “Hey! Hey, you!”
He hopped to the side, awkwardly. Hina had trotted happily over, and was trying to fondle his erection. On seeing his reaction, she rolled her eyes indulgently and returned to Marble, stroking her body and murmuring soothing, wordless noises.
“I did warn you,” said Marble. “Please don’t let it put you off? It doesn’t stop us. Once we lie down she pays more attention to me, and once I get going she mostly just watches.”
Big Macintosh’s ears splayed in confusion. “She does? I mean, she will?”
“You want to lie down?” blinked Hina. She looked around, and spotted Big Macintosh’s bed. “Oh, I see!” She glanced back under Big Macintosh. “Do you think it will keep him from going too deeply?”
“No,” said Marble, “he does that anyway but it’s okay, I promise. I even walk home, it doesn’t do me too much harm.”
Hina in turn quirked her ears at the odd way Marble Pie put things. Then she blinked. “You, walk home? You should stay and cuddle him! And be cuddled, too!”
“It would be sort of anti-climactic,” said Marble apologetically. “Oooh! Pet me there!”
Hina stroked Marble’s breasts again, the dainty hoof reaching between Marble’s trembling legs. “Do you like it there? Do you dream of pretty foals? Suckling your milk? This fine stallion seeding you?”
Marble shook her head. “That doesn’t happen. It’s okay. It just feels good, like you think I’m a pretty mare.”
Hina smiled, continuing to fondle Marble’s pony breasts. “But you are. You are a lovely pony.”
Marble’s legs quivered. She winked, a dribble of mare-juice dripping out of her increasingly worked-up pussy. “Mm-hm,” she said, letting her eyes go half-lidded.
“Ain’t sure how AH fit in here,” grumbled Big Macintosh.
“Lie down on the bed!” said both Hina, and Marble, in chorus.
Big Macintosh’s jaw dropped, and then he reeled it in. “Dang,” he said. “Rarity, much?”
“I beg your pardon?” said Hina, grasping the tone if not the meaning of his remark.
“Nothin’,” said Big Macintosh. “Reminded me of somepony for a moment there.” He walked over, and lay down on his bed, his swelling cock flopping weightily onto the mattress.
“A good somepony?” asked Hina, her ears quizzical.
“Depends,” said Big Macintosh. “Maybe a bit much. It’s okay. If y’all want me to play them games for an evenin’ I don’t mind it.”
Hina’s eyes widened. She stuck out her lower lip, and gave him a stern look.
“We do not play games,” she decreed. “It is my honor to preside over this mating: tonight this sweet filly will become a mare. The joys of sexuality will open to her. In turn, her tender vagina will open to you.”
Big Macintosh stared at the Kirin, then at Marble Pie. Marble wobbled where she stood, another dribble of marejuice hitting the dirt, and returned his gaze for a moment. She blushed madly, her eyes dropping.
Big Macintosh’s cock quit flopping in a terrible hurry. With Marble staring spellbound at it, that famous phallus swelled up hard and strong, jutting forth heroically.
“Mm!” said Marble, and began to hyperventilate, instinctively setting her hind hooves farther apart and squirting a little more mare-ooze.
Hina was staring, too. She mumbled, “Provided she is ready…” with some concern, and caressed Marble’s butt reassuringly. “Are you ready, dear?”
Marble gulped. She stepped forward, feeling light-headed, a whole world of history, destiny and event flowing through her. She nodded, a crazy little smile flickering over her face. “It’s time.”
“It won’t hurt,” reassured Hina.
Marble blinked, and gave her a look. “What? Yes it will. But now I understand more about why that matters so little to me. And why I like it. Which I will…”
Both Hina and Big Macintosh looked at the quivering, painfully aroused young mare in puzzlement. She kept making no sense, in such a gentle, quiet way. Then, Big Macintosh abandoned his efforts to figure it out, and he just reached out his big strong forelegs, that massive cock throbbingly waiting, and his eyes so tender and soft.
Her heart pounding, Marble Pie lay down on the bed and rolled against him, her back against his barrel chest, enclosed trustingly in his mighty embrace.
“Mm!” said Marble, and bit her lip, waiting.
The next thing she felt wasn’t a mare-splitting phallic thrust. Hina and Big Macintosh were staring each other down with matching faintly cranky looks, and the sensation flooding Marble’s body was that of Big Macintosh stroking her in proudly gentle motions, from chest to belly and then lower where he appreciatively petted her breasts, the nipples going even stiffer under his touch.
Hina opened her mouth, prepared to add suggestions.
That was when Big Macintosh unleashed the mare-splitting phallic thrust… at least in theory.
Instead, what happened was this: he gave a mighty bold shove directly against Marble’s pony mound and shoved her a foot up the bed rather than penetrate her.
“MM! m! m!”
“Um…”
Big Macintosh furrowed his brow. He drew his hips back again, and Marble settled back into position. She’d gone limp and quivering, staring a thousand yards away, her jaw dangling in astonishment at what she’d felt… and not felt.
Hina favored them with a sly smile. “It’s not so easy? How fortunate your Kirin is here to help.”
Big Macintosh’s leg kicked uncertainly as Hina reached for their personals, but it wasn’t his cock she proposed to handle. Instead, she reached in there with two delicate cloven hooves, pressed Marble’s vulva to either side of his swollen flare, and stretched. Marble emitted a squeal and wriggled, her eyes rolling back in her head, for now she felt Big Macintosh’s cock tucking right into her, firmly nuzzling the slickened pink of her secret flesh.
“Try it now,” said Hina, calmly.
He’d tried his big dominant-stallion routine and flubbed it, causing Big Macintosh to wonder if he’d chosen wisely. “Um… think she’s up for it?”
Hina’s smile was radiant. “I would be! You are just a mighty horse. Go ahead.”
Big Macintosh mulled that one over, and then he called upon his experience and on advice he’d gotten from Braeburn: advice more relevant to himself, for Brae didn’t flare as hard and his girth was carried in the middle of his shaft. Big Macintosh was mighty throughout, but knew his flare got unmanageable in a hurry. He felt Marble squirming and rubbing against the blunt end of his flare, and he knew he wouldn’t stand much of that without flaring worse.
And so, with Hina spreading his quivering mare for him, Big Macintosh gave one short, controlled jab of his hips, and with a filthy squelch…
“mYEEP!”
Marble Pie lost her virginity, exactly as she had always envisioned.
For a moment, she couldn’t even breathe. It felt like the top of her head was coming off, like the hot throbbing mass would burst her asunder, and her vision was lost in starbursts and white-outs. She felt, around her, Big Macintosh’s comforting foreleg tighten, and she melted in surrender against his affectionate warmth and inhaled deeply.
“m! mmmm! m!”
“Now don’t…” began Hina.
“…rush, Ah know,” interrupted Big Macintosh testily. “Ladies cain’t fit ya all at once. When you’re like me, anyhoof?”
Hina glared at him for a moment: it seemed outside of her experience to not say every syllable of her utterance. But then, a forgiving expression washed over her face, and also the hint of a flush, the merest intimation of panting and staring. The Kirin was thoroughly committed to her role of animal husbandry, but all the same, though she remained dedicated to her goal of helping the ponies through their tricky mating, she also liked what she saw… a lot.
Big Macintosh had seen that expression before.
“You kin clop off if you want. Y’know… as you watch?” he suggested. Marble thrilled to the deep rumble of his voice, and kicked a hind leg in feeble flailing, unable to relax while he split her so potently.
Hina’s nostrils flared. “I think I should mind this mare!” she said. “See how her leg kicks? She was right, you are hurting!”
Big Macintosh, chastened, promptly ignored Hina. “Awww…” he rumbled. “It’s okay, honey, relax, sugar…”
Marble panted. The tough part was over… well, the first tough part and the only one that worried her. It wasn’t his entry, either: it was that moment when he’d turn, start sassing the Kirin, swell up a little inside her with outrage and stop moving even as she began to cramp up. It had been just as bad as she’d… not feared, precisely, so much as dreaded. Sweat stood out on her little forehead, testament to the physical challenges she’d taken on.
Now, Marble squirmed, heart pounding as the next thing happened. Big Macintosh, feeling ungentleponylike as he’d been caught ignoring the needs of his lover, curled around her and fondled up a storm. He stroked her body with powerful limbs, and as his hind legs curled up under her, that massive horsecock pressed deeper, beginning a motion he would not be fool enough to stop until the time came.
Marble threw her head back, nuzzling against him abandonedly, and surrendered anew to the experience. In her mind, she sensed other realities flickering in and out of existence, her prospects should she panic, or tense up against the pain of his firm thrusting, or get another cramp. Layers of drama, possibilities unfolding inside the muse that created her, word by word.
Marble Pie seized the one that was hers, the one that was beautiful and a bit sad and full of amazement and joy. With all the bravery she could summon, she flung herself into the experience in complete trust, and writhed wantonly against Big Macintosh’s belly—her tail flicking spastically, head nuzzling up under his chin—an exhibition of mare lust that should surely get him pounding her green-grey butt far too hard and lead to her grave injury, but all the same Marble knew it was right.
“Hey… hey!” rumbled Big Macintosh as she squeaked and bucked against him. His foreleg drew her tight and close. “Easy now! Lil’ filly might hurt herself! Like this…”
Marble’s heart pounded, but now she was held tight. One hind leg still kicked, but soon it was in a dreamy, spaced-out way.
Big Macintosh, very carefully, began fucking Marble the way he knew he could fuck.
At first it was tentative little thrusts. He could feel the limits of her, feel the lack of room, but he also knew that with patient effort he could soften her up, and soften he did.
“Mm…”
Big Macintosh’s cock surged steadily within Marble’s cramped confines. He kept himself relaxed, though for a moment there he tensed his pelvis and went stiffer inside her, unthinkingly…
“m! M! mm!”
…only to take the hint and make a conscious effort to melt, to flow around her and present no shocking outbursts of stallion-ness. Hina watched, forgotten. Big Macintosh fell easily into the mode he’d learned with Braeburn and his gay exploits: with no consideration for dominance or biting or any such displays of authority, he devoted himself to tender exploratory motions inside his mare, attentive to each quiver and gasp, watching with his ears perked in full alertness to ensure she found pleasure.
Glancing down, he noticed with surprise that Hina, the Kirin, was suckling on Marble’s nipple and teasing it with her tongue.
“m!”
He couldn’t complain about the results, though. Marble’s whole body shuddered as she withstood his deep thrusts, but he could feel the way she melted around him. There was no cramp left: that had been massaged away by the steady, powerful thrusting of his massive horsecock, the repetitive stretching combining with Marble’s mind-blown surrender to leave her awe-struck and quivering, not even understanding how the erection transfixing her could keep on getting bulkier by the second, and yet no pain, just the mighty waves…
Big Macintosh realized in surprise that he was going an awful long time for an earth pony stallion. Perhaps it was the incongruity of the Kirin getting involved? For whatever reason, he’d been thrusting a farm pony erection deep into Marble Pie for at least half again as long as usual. It was like he’d gotten sucked into somepony else’s story, and was spending second after second in a coital trance, just pleasuring an incoherent virgin mare for what would be the highlight of her whole life. As if his performance was somehow tied in with that fate, and the pleasure cruise seemed to go on forever…
Marble Pie smiled, not at him.
Then, her eyes dilated sharply, and she gritted her teeth.
“m!”
Because fucking wasn’t a pleasure cruise, so much as a pleasure peak… and the peak could not be put off forever… and it was going to be one for the ages, not soon forgotten.
Hina watched the shocking display of Big Macintosh’s huge cock thrusting so politely into Marble, glistening as it slid through her tight-stretched vulva. He’d melted her so well, he was nearly penetrating her to the medial ring. The Kirin nuzzled Marble’s breasts helpfully, suckling the other nipple, wondering and then being certain that the farm pony cock before her was swelling once more. The thrusting wasn’t getting worse, however. If anything it was getting gentler without even any prompting from her.
“m! MM!”
Big Macintosh’s eyes widened. He knew things were going well, but maybe they were going a little too well? He felt his release approaching, his cock wedged into the excited green-grey mare, but there was a problem. It seemed there was a point past which Marble could not melt. It wasn’t that she was so tiny in frame, but still she felt tighter on him. A lot tighter, because he was hitting his full hardness, and he reckoned he was swelling a lot bigger. He slowed, worried, his attention fully on Marble, and he hugged her close and watched for signs of what to do.
Marble reeled in the sensory storm, her legs kicking helplessly as the stallionhood that impaled her began its last terrifying trick… well, second to last. It was going to get too big, too big to move anymore. It got too big. Deep deep inside her, the end of the thing, the flare, began prying her where there was no room, inflating alarmingly.
For a moment, Marble Pie tottered on the brink of a hundred futures, her terrified mental eye seeing them all. Would he resume moving, those mighty hips wrecking her insides with agonizing tugs and thrusts? Would he just keep expanding until she tore and burst? Would she inflate on the end of his orgasm until come squirted out her nose? Would he panic and yank it out, turning her inside out and killing her?
Big Macintosh, however, HAD gone behind the barn with Braeburn, just the other day. And been drained mighty thoroughly, too.
He stopped moving, because he felt her clench down in alarm. There was no putting off his response, his final celebration of her wonderful, delectable body. And so, Big Macintosh drew Marble still closer, and then wrapped her tightly in a hug, curled around her, felt his climax get nearer and nearer and nearer…
“M!!!”
Marble felt her fate become part of her as it chose. Her eyes no longer saw the barn walls. The only thing she was aware of was that titanic horsecock, no longer moving, just expanding and hardening inside her, reaching a searing peak of intensity that set her vagina afire, every inch strained as tears came to her eyes and…
“Ghh! Nnngh! Unnngh! Huhh!” grunted Big Macintosh.
…nirvana.
Marble Pie’s mind disintegrated with pleasure as she felt her stallion come inside her. It gushed, so palpably, into her womb: flooded her, distended her with mocking abundance where the hard-on couldn’t reach and didn’t throb, and then as the spasms passed, each final teeth-gritting burst of cock-hardness endured, everything softened just a little. The drama of his orgasm set her up, the gushing of virile pony sperm set her off, and the slight release of intensity set her free, for she knew she’d withstood every challenge.
Marble Pie, who’d been aroused more and more at each stage, who had gushed with mare-juices yet remained untriggered, came like the end of the world.
Pumped cozily full of ponycome by Big Macintosh’s somewhat pre-drained testicles, stretched around one of the biggest horsecocks in Ponyville but feeling it ease inside her, brought to the highest peak of her fey and mysterious life, Marble went off the end of that peak with her mind exploding into fireworks, and wrapped tight in Big Macintosh’s solicitous embrace, Marble came and came and came.
Her whole body shuddered and spasmed, completely beyond her control. Had she been standing, she’d have collapsed: but that wasn’t her story. Instead, Big Macintosh held her in his forelegs, his eyes wide and awe-struck as his young mare lover seemed to have a seizure, unable even to ‘m!’, and he stroked her thoughtfully as she rode it out.
It took her a very long time, but then he’d learned a few things. As she melted and began to come down, he made teasing little motions inside her, sloshing the tide of horsecome, keeping her on the boil exhaustingly. It was so beautiful (and flattering: exceeding any reaction he’d ever seen) that he wanted to keep it going forever, but stallionhoods weren’t meant for that. They were designed for hop-on, hop-off and even with the most heroic tensings of his hindquarters the mighty flagpole gradually sagged, in turn melting and softening inside her even as she sagged into a quivering puddle of molten mare, unable to lift her head, drooling cutely on his pillow.
For a moment, he just nuzzled her feverish body.
“Beautiful,” said Hina, appreciatively.
Big Macintosh’s ears quirked in alarm. “Uh!” He looked around to see her smiling and observing the aftermath.
“Did I startle you?” she said in a gentle voice. “You’ve done well.”
Big Macintosh stuck out his lower lip. “Do y’ mind? Lady would like some privacy.”
Deep within the waves of sensual pleasure, rapt in meditation on the tingling, piquant pleasure-pain of her sex-wracked vagina, Marble Pie came one last time to hear him say that. She knew his story would move on, but just as she’d expected, there was that one perfect moment. She lay, his mare, seeded and screwed and sated, and Big Macintosh drew her a little closer and sought to chase the other mare away and have her all to himself.
And he did… for one perfect moment, never to be forgotten.
Hina beamed. “Why, of course!” she cooed. “You are both so beautiful. Be happy!”
The Kirin bowed her head solemnly and proudly, for she considered herself a catalyst and was well satisfied with her work.
She trotted off.
“m…” managed Marble Pie.
“Mmmm,” rumbled Big Macintosh.
“It’s okay,” said Marble. “I got a whole scene break. That’s a little like forever? You know, since it’s not any specific time?” She gazed, half-lidded, at him. “It felt like forever.”
Big Macintosh furrowed his brow. “But, honey! Ah promise, you kin stay longer! I would love to part yore sweet folds again, why you goin’ home?”
“Oh, I can’t,” said Marble. “That’s not how this goes. I’m not nearly brave enough to stay.”
“Even to go again?” pleaded Big Macintosh, but Marble fixed him with a stubborn, gentle gaze.
“You’ll be all right,” she said. “You can learn from me, in fact you do. A good thing, too, she’s nice, I like her. Be sure to be as gentle with her, she’s littler even though she has a lot of sex.”
“Huh?” said Big Macintosh in dismay.
Marble thought about telling him more about the delights of Kirin sex, but one thing about perfect moments was: they lingered. The poor big oaf really had loved her at that moment, and it didn’t pass easily, even though events made that fact bittersweet. She shook her head.
“Mm.”
Then, she squeaked, “Ahh!” for Big Macintosh had grabbed her in a big red hug, trying to keep her through plain old farmpony love and cuddles.
“But, Marble, you were really somethin’ special! So sweet an’ tight an’ eager…”
She gritted her teeth, for this was one of those inflection moments. If he’d not grabbed her… but of course he was always going to, and it made it easier for her to flit through the next steps of the dance laid out for her.
“Let go, it hurts!”
Big Macintosh did so, his face falling. “It do?”
“We don’t really fit,” explained Marble. “I promise I’ll be okay. I even walk home, remember? But we can’t do that again. You mustn’t! And by the time I heal up, you’re busy.” She lowered her gaze. “It’s all right, really. You end up with something amazing, and so do I though it’s rather hard to explain. I need to go.”
“But,” said Big Macintosh helplessly, “Marble Pie, I think I love you or somethin’.”
“You do,” said Marble gently. “I will always treasure that.”
Big Macintosh’s eyes cast about his barn home, unable to find comfort, looking for anything that might help him persuade the lovely green-gray mare to remain.
“Would ya like a cup of tea?” he said. “Ah know it ain’t no mug, you might wonder why Ah would drink from a lil’ cup like that. Braeburn’s happy when I drink m’ tea cutely, he made it for me in that kettle there, see?”
Marble considered the cup, warily. “It’s very nice. You can drink from a little cup if you like. I hope Pinkie doesn’t upset you too much when she uses it.”
“Huh? Ah mean, you kin drink from it too. Please stay. Please? An’ what do you mean, Pinkie uses it?”
An eye poked out of the cup, peering around. Big Macintosh whinnied in terror. Marble… didn’t.
“Pinkie Pie!” she insisted. “Come out of there!”
With a reality-defying splort, Pinkie Pie squirted out of the cup and faced the two lovers, favoring them with a grumpy look.
“He might be a big dumb male and not always as nice as you’d think,” accused Pinkie, “but he’s still a Ponyville pony. Are you being mean to him?”
“I have to go,” said Marble.
“WHY does he look so sad, Marble? Are you leaving? Love ‘em and leave ‘em, says Marble Pie? That’s not very nice.”
“Mm!” squeaked Marble Pie, going silent again upon being confronted by her irate sister.
“You did fuck him, just like you always said you would,” insisted Pinkie. “Did you do it just to mess with his silly head? I’m warning you, Marble! I’ll find out the truth, I’ll Sense it out of you!”
Marble backed up a step. “No! He was fine, good! It’s the way everything else is happening.”
“What do you mean, happening?” demanded Pinkie.
Marble gulped. “I have to be in the same chapter as the evil. Twice! I’m so sorry, I have to get out of here. I wish you didn’t screw everything up, and end up k… k…”
“Cookies?” shrieked Pinkie, losing what cool she had. “CUPCAKES? What?”
Marble shook her head, frantically. She tried to figure out how she could politely represent a feeling that Pinkie would be forever changed and would kill, but on the one hoof it seemed like the single most unwise thing she could say, and on the other hoof she couldn’t comprehend how it was part of the happy ending. The timid, innocent mare cringed away from the grim implications of her Sense and what it told her, and she fell back on simpler assertions.
“I really have to go,” she said.
Pinkie pouted. “Fine! You’re an idiot. This guy has sex with lots of mares, some of them much fancier than you! Princesses, even! He’ll forget you, so beat it, Marble! This is my turf and I don’t want you coming around with your spooky weirdness. Mom and Dad keep you at home for a reason!”
Marble sagged. “Mm-hm.”
“Mm-hm, you’ll go?”
“All those things,” said Marble. She gave Big Macintosh a sad smile: he seemed beside himself with dismay and uncertainty, and Pinkie’s stunt with the teacup had him cowering against the wall. “He’ll find love. Do that, Big Macintosh, find love. With my blessing. I’ll be fine. I have the bronies.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” said Pinkie, baring her teeth, her Sense telling her to be alert, but not why. “That wasn’t even a word!”
Marble pouted. “Not for you, maybe. Your loss. I’ll never have to be lonely and frustrated again. I live in the fantasies of bronies. They’ll care for me… in all of the ways.”
With a soft and shy smile, like a pony meeting someone she would come to love, she turned her head and looked at you.
Pinkie Pie twitched, grimacing. “What the buck was that?”
“What was what?” said Marble, looking away bashfully.
“Oh no. Oh no no! What did you DO?” demanded Pinkie, trembling. “That was so weird! Something happened that I couldn’t see…”
“I’m sorry,” said Marble, glancing apologetically at you. “I think I’d better go…”
“Gah!” squawked Pinkie Pie. “You did it AGAIN! Stop it, stop it stop it!”
“Mm!” squeaked Marble Pie. She backed away from Pinkie in a panic, and staggered off determinedly toward the still-open door.
“Miss Marble!” called Big Macintosh. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Mm-hm!” she said. “Just one more line and I’m safe!”
“One more what?”
“This is my last line of the book!” said Marble Pie earnestly, and with that, she broke into a wobbly but triumphant trot out the barn door and homewards, which in turn was her last action of the book.
“Let her go!” begged Pinkie. “Why’s she gotta be so creepy, and do impossible things?”
“You mean, like you do?” said Big Macintosh, his ears laid back in dismay.
Pinkie stared at nothing for a moment. One ear twitched violently. Her mane seemed to re-fluff itself.
“Right! Thanks. I needed that!”
“Uh… you’re welcome?” said Big Macintosh, and then cringed back. Pinkie Pie had jumped up into the air, doubled over, and dived headlong back into the teacup. She was gone. The teacup wobbled, and fell over. Big Macintosh stared at it huntedly for three seconds, and then heaved a great sigh, whereupon it shattered and fell to bits mockingly.
“Reckon I’m safer with the dang Kirin!” moaned Big Macintosh, to the empty barn.
Apple Bloom groaned, not sure whether it was the cider, the salt, or the turnips that had done her in. Beside her, Diamond Tiara’s narrowed eye twitched, the pink filly ears splayed back in discomfort, the classy striped mane a touch disheveled. She, in turn, had shown solidarity with her special marefriend by consuming just as many apple turnip cakes drenched in cider and salt. She glared at the farmponies, daring them to give Apple Bloom any trouble, her lovely nostrils flaring in anticipated outrage.
“ALL righty then,” said Applejack, and both Bloom and Tiara winced and gave her a dirty look.
Applejack looked ragged too, but she persisted. “I guess y’all heard th’ news: we got us a special visitor in town. Thing called a Kirin. And you kin prob’ly guess what she’s here lookin’ to do!”
“Kill ponies,” muttered Snowy Hocks, and every farmpony ear turned.
“What?” squawked Applejack, and Bloom and Tiara winced again, even worse. “Naw! In fact we’re takin’ every precaution that she don’t mess with anypony in these parts, no matter how strange, or how, uh, naughty?”
Snowy Hocks raised an eyebrow, as if getting an idea. He made a face, and scuffed the dirt with a forehoof, restless.
“Now the reason I’m talking to you,” said Applejack, “is that I know y’all had a lot of collective fun with a certain pegasus who lives here…”
Snowy bridled and opened his mouth, pony teeth showing in a snarl of hostility.
Applejack was too quick for him. “PEGasus, Ah said!” she snapped, to another wince from Apple Bloom.
“Naughty, you said,” countered Snowy. “You jes’ wait. She’s gonna come and smite you to death for pony wickedness.” He turned to glower at all the farm ponies. “Think you kin jump on each other, behind the barn? That Kirin’s gonna know. She’s gonna see you’re a sinful fagpony and she’s gonna kill you. Do you touch yourself o’ nights?”
The farm ponies glanced back and forth, unsettled. Applejack glared at Snowy.
“How you know that?”
“Everypony knows that,” sniffed Snowy, contemptuously. “Them things, they’re all about punishin’ the wicked.”
“Snowy Hocks, that’ll do,” muttered Apple Bloom. The farm ponies drew back a step, for Boss Mare had issued a warning, as yet a gentle one.
Snowy hesitated… and doubled down. “Ma’am, this is for your protection too!”
“Ah BEG yore pardon?” snarled Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara wincing beside her, both hung-over fillies fidgeting in sheer discomfort. Diamond shifted from hoof to hoof, as if her hindquarters bothered her.
Snowy spotted it.
“Dang right,” he growled. “Don’t even try ta hide it. Your lil’ business manager fillyfriend hinted once about what she has ya do, and it seems you’re at it again, look at her. That Kirin’s gonna zap you to death for growin’ a dick and fuckin’ her up the ass!”
The farm ponies gasped. “Hey now!” yelled Applejack. Bloom cringed at the sudden yelling, and Diamond Tiara had gone bright red and was looking around her in a panic.
“It’s true!” insisted Snowy. “Them things is dangerous! Why, that Kirin, she might even kill Hollyhock here, who’s a good steady herder pony and ain’t never done nothin’ wrong at all, but you wait, she might jes’ kill him for NOOO damn reason, that’s how bad them Kirins get!”
Hollyhock, tight-lipped and with his eyes revealing utter panic, cowered back even while Snowy turned with a victorious air and said, “Now if that terrible thing would kill a fine innocent fellow like our Hollyhock that we’ve known for years, when he ain’t done NOTHIN’ wrong, what the hell chance have you got?”
“Dammit, Snowy!” yelled Applejack.
“We can’t trust that thing!” accused Snowy. “She’s gonna kill you if you touch yourselves, she’s crazy!”
“She ain’t!” yelled Applejack. “Ah saw her! We jes’ gotta be careful so’s she don’t go off tryin’ to hurt Fluttershy, dammit! There ain’t no other evil around here, an’ besides Fluttershy ain’t evil atall, the only thing I want from you dumb horses is to fuck th’ Kirin nicely so she don’t get the wrong idea!”
“What kinda fool idea is that?” demanded Snowy. “Eventually we’re gonna need a real leader around th’ farm strong enough to protect you against th’ maraudin’ Kirin! You hear me?”
“She ain’t neither maraudin’, least I din’t see it if she was, and—agh!” Applejack stopped, with a gasp. Something had bit her rump, and it wasn’t a love-bite. She whirled.
Apple Bloom spat, looking psychotically enraged… but Applejack wasn’t her real target.
She stalked, step by step, toward the farm ponies. Mist swirled dramatically behind her, pouring over the farmhouse as Apple Bloom bore down on her worker ponies. Hollyhock clamped his lips together and cringed down behind Snowy Hocks, then Silver.
Apple Bloom ignored him. She only had eyes for Snowy Hocks, and those eyes were slits of fire. She didn’t stop until she was nose to nose with him.
“Did you say ‘real leader’?” said Apple Bloom, between gritted teeth, very very quietly.
Snowy’s eyes rolled frantically, taking in his compatriots. He gulped. “Ah…”
“Shut up,” said Apple Bloom, trembling in rage. “Don’t you ever say such a thing again, or Ah’ll kill you myself. You’re so dang old, you wouldn’t miss much.”
Just for an instant, her rage was mirrored in his old, rheumy eyes. Then, the fear washed over it, combining into a hateful old glare. He didn’t dare speak.
“You’re a coward,” said Apple Bloom, “and you don’t run this farm. I don’t know much about Kirin but Applejack says she ain’t dangerous, so as far as I’m concerned she ain’t. She ain’t gonna hurt me or I will kick her flank, she sure as hell ain’t gonna hurt Diamond or there ain’t no describin’ what’s going to happen to her, she ain’t gonna hurt you or Hollyhock or anypony else no matter how much you clop off at night, and I do not expect…”
“Hello, hello, hello!” chimed a new voice. Over the swirling mists, from behind the farmhouse, came the radiant figure of Hina, the Kirin, making a dramatic entrance.
Every single male farm pony whinnied in terror, whirled, and fled as if an entire herd of vengeful mist demons were after them.
Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara and Applejack cringed back for a moment as well: partly in alarm, and partly because the combined shriek of terror had walloped their hangovers something fierce.
Hina blinked, and made a face. “Phew! Ponyville stinks of evil. Are you well?”
“Uh,” said Applejack, “dunno if you call it evil. We call it apple turnip cakes drenched in salt an’ cider. Ah guess it amounts to the same thing, huh?”
Hina’s laugh chimed out unconcernedly. “Oh, poor dear! Would you like to breathe my mane?”
“Will that help?” asked Applejack. “Hell, worth a try!” She trotted forward and stuck her face in the Kirin’s shimmering mane, taking deep breaths.
“This is her?” said Apple Bloom, suspiciously.
Applejack raised her head, her eyes shut in bliss. “Aw yeah!”
“Well then,” said Apple Bloom, “welcome to Sweet Apple Acres, Miss Kirin. Don’t zap or ma-raude nothin’ or I’ll whop you! Okay?”
Applejack turned, facing her fierce little sister. “She ain’t gonna do any of them things!” Then, her eyes widened, for she felt the tingle of the Kirin sniffing at her rump, scintillating mane sparking slightly as it caressed the fresh discipline-bite courtesy of Apple Bloom. She looked back, fretfully.
Hina’s expression was stern. “Applejack? What bit you?”
Applejack gulped. “Nothin’…”
“You need to tell me the real truth, Applejack,” scolded Hina. As all three ponies’ eyes widened, she added, “Right now, please!”
A new voice greeted their ears, preternaturally calm. “Truth? I’m good at truth. Are you confronted with a puzzle that needs solving?”
Hina turned her head, and smiled. “Why, it’s a winged unicorn!”
Into the circle walked a tall, pale green alicorn… or so it appeared. Her eyes were a deep forest green, her bearing almost regal… but her horn was neither as long, nor her wings as vast, as a real alicorn. Numeric Essence, who’d been on track to interact with magic itself and become Alicorn of Logic (or perhaps Rationality or Reason: her theories weren’t clear on that point) had watched Twilight’s dreadfully awkward alicornolescence and had declined her fate. She’d retired to Ponyville, and took pains to confine her efforts to the mind and not the horn, and had never managed to fly, nor wished to. She was fond of chess, though only Spike would play her anymore: his rationale being that eventually he’d beat her, even if he had to grow up first. Also, she always gave him an emerald as a snack for trying.
Numeric Essence looked at Apple Bloom, Applejack, Diamond Tiara and the newcomer, and asked, “Were you upset? Both Apple mares are hyperventilating slightly, and Diamond Tiara seems to be pressing very close to her mate, but is not smiling.”
Applejack wrinkled her brow. Essie always tended to confuzzle her. “Nopony’s upset! Nothin’s wrong. Got that, Hina? Nothin’ wrong here.”
Hina frowned. “Somepony, or something, has bitten you.”
“HA!” retorted Applejack. “I’m fit as a fiddle, I… aw shit, sorry hon…”
Her enthusiastic reply had been so loud, that both Apple Bloom and Diamond Tiara had nearly fallen over in agony. Applejack realized she’d been cured of her hangover with Hina’s magic mane, but her little sister and their business manager still suffered.
“Jes’ one minute,” said Applejack determinedly. “So you want good, do you? Over here, Boss… an’ you…” She trotted around, and firmly herded Apple Bloom, Diamond Tiara, and Hina together into a little knot, despite the younger mares’ balkiness and Hina’s confusion.
The Kirin’s mane flared up in sparks, but they were sporadic. As Applejack pushed the motley group together, Bloom and Tiara’s faces came into contact with that scintillating magic mane. “Breathe!” ordered Applejack.
As their eyes widened and their headaches lifted, Hina whinnied in surprise. “Oh… they are in pain! Pain most terrible!”
“Not anymore,” said Applejack smugly. “Breathe, ya scapers! There you go.”
Apple Bloom scratched her head. “Dang! Thankee, miss.”
Diamond Tiara’s eyes were wide in amazement. “Bloomie! That mane cured our hangovers instantly… I mean, instantly!”
“Damn if it didn’t,” agreed Apple Bloom.
Tiara’s eyes narrowed in thought. “How quickly does it grow back? If we sold it at, say, five thousand bits an inch… YEEP!”
Apple Bloom had whirled around and nipped her rump. “Rude, Precious!” she scolded.
“We’d pay her handsomely for it!” objected Diamond Tiara. “Oh, very well. We’ll find some other use for her.” She glanced up at Applejack’s horrified expression. “What?”
She looked up at the Kirin. “Oh.”
Hina’s head was raised high and haughty, and she stared back and forth between Applejack, Tiara, and Apple Bloom… finally just at Apple Bloom, who stared back, undaunted but increasingly defensive.
“…you sure she ain’t dangerous, big sister?” said the Boss Mare, glancing to the side without turning away from the scrutiny.
Hina pinned her with a thoroughly authoritative gaze. “Was that bite necessary?”
At that, Apple Bloom began to walk forward, not blinking. Beside her, Diamond Tiara squeaked in alarm, but began to do likewise, though her legs began to shake more and more the nearer she got to those penetrating eyes and that creepy, alien horn that lit up and seethed with magic. It didn’t stop her. Just as Apple Bloom went nose-to-nose with the Kirin, so Diamond Tiara stayed right by her side, defiantly.
Applejack kept almost as close, on Apple Bloom’s other side. Numeric Essence’s jaw dangled as she watched the inexplicable behavior, making no sense of it whatsoever.
“Yeah,” said Apple Bloom. “Yeah, it was. I’m the Boss of this farm. I ain’t that big, but I’m fierce an’ nopony crosses me. And my kin and my love, they’re all hard cases and don’t take suggestions easy.”
Hina studied her. “Put your face in my mane, please.”
Apple Bloom snorted, and promptly did just that. She took several deep breaths.
“There is some truth to your tale,” said Hina, grudgingly. “So little dishonesty. Only the slightest exaggeration there.”
“It’s ALL true,” retorted Apple Bloom. “Don’t you mind Applejack, she’s notional. This was her job once and I took it away from her for her own good. She ain’t no slouch, so Ah got to stay sharp. Hah! Sharp in the tooth!”
Applejack made a choking noise, and then fought to look nonchalant. “Y’ don’t say?”
“It’s true,” said Numeric Essence. “This young mare is Boss of this farm. And all the Apple ponies are fierce and brave. I enjoy having them as neighbors. Why were you questioning them? Did they say Hina was your name? You are a Kirin, if I am not mistaken.”
Hina raised her chin. “Yes, I am. There’s evil in Ponyville. Still I search for it.”
Essie blinked. “Really? That’s odd.”
“What seems odd to you?”
“Kirin travel Neighpon, seeking out evil and destroying it,” said Essence. “Legend says they are unerring in their quest and ruthless in battle. If you have to search and seek in this manner, not finding the evil and questioning obviously good little ponies with suspicion, there is an incongruity. It’s like you aren’t directed to the source of evil at all! How is that, unerring?”
This had an unexpected effect. Hina blushed, and looked away, which only made Essence more curious.
“Please do not tell the others,” said the Kirin. “We do sense evil, but only as a miasma. It is disturbing. My heart weeps to feel it here, among new friends.” Her mane continued to glitter, restlessly, and her eyes were vulnerable. A wave of heightened sparkle seemed to pass through the mane, from the direction where Hollyhock had been standing… or, indeed, Snowy Hocks.
Numeric Essence smiled happily. “You need help! It’ll be a wonderful fresh puzzle, so fun. I’ll help you find your evil!”
“You will?” gasped Hina, shocked.
“Certainly I will!” said Essence. “First: what is evil, to you?”
Hina pulled herself together, and gave Essence a worried look. “How can you promise me this?”
“It sounds like you need some sort of tracking device,” explained Essence. “Either a sort of evil-compass, or perhaps some sort of beacon. You know? A thing that can trigger and fixate on outbursts of evil, perhaps send up some kind of beacon. I don’t practice unicorn magic much these days, but indicator signals such as that aren’t very difficult. We only need to identify which evil you’d like to hunt, or perhaps I can make it configurable?”
Hina was staring in disbelief. “Configurable?”
“Yes, perhaps it could also target naughtiness. Or indigestion?”
“Now hold on!” interrupted Applejack. “We don’t need to go huntin’ nothing around here, understand? We don’t need your compass, Essie.”
“Or beacon,” corrected Numeric Essence, unperturbed.
“Whatever. We’re gonna be okay.”
Diamond Tiara was whispering in Apple Bloom’s ear. Apple Bloom listened, nodded, and said, “Configurable, huh? Kin you make one that only, and I mean only, points you to terrible evil monsters fixin’ to murder everypony an’ eat them all up?” She listened to another whisper, and added, “Call it ‘actively’ lookin’ to murder ponies. And devour them.”
“That does seem evil, yes,” said Essence. “So, a spell to target anything that’s intending murder? Defined as… intention to kill ponies and devour either their flesh, or perhaps some other aspect of their living ponyness. Does that seem right? Hmmm, but also you want it very proof against false positive triggering, which does seem prudent…”
“Do that ‘un!” ordered Apple Bloom. She paused to glare at Applejack, who was gesticulating frantically outside of Hina’s field of view. “If you do that, it’ll be sure-nuff evil and it certainly won’t be leadin’ you to nothin nor nopony who AIN’T no terrible evil monster. Got it?”
The Kirin wasn’t reassured. “Such a goal makes sense. But… from this winged unicorn? How can she need a definition of evilness? Can she not feel it? What’s the matter with her that she can be so detached?”
“Never you mind that!” said Apple Bloom. “Promise you’ll sit tight until we find you a proper murderin’ scary-monster, all righty? And jes’ in case we never do turn up anything that awful… enjoy your stay, Miss Hina, y’ hear?”
“Oh, Apple Bloom,” breathed Applejack, hushedly. “You’re so sure such things don’t happen to nice ponies…”
“Don’t worry,” said Numeric Essence. “I’ll see what I can do.”