Part two of TwiDash (...dammit Pinkie).

In some ways, Rainbow Dash behaves more like a stallion than a mare. Is that sexist? What I mean is, she does things that fit "stereotyped behaviors" of stallions when she's in intimate situations. She's forceful, the way stallions are supposed to be—or maybe "expected by society to be" is more accurate. (To be honest, I'd never really thought about how hard it must be to be a stallion until that terrible argument with my brother.) Those expectations include things like making the first move, letting the mare pay for dinner (unless she doesn't want to), and using more active force in sex since they're the "outie" and you're the "innie". It turns out I like that forcefulness for the most part, but there are some elements of it that I don't enjoy.

(Rainbow, if you ever read this, please know I really enjoy being with you. I'm just writing here about preferences I have no control over. I meant to talk to you about this, but it really didn't seem like the appropriate time. We're both teetering on the edge of emotional stability right now as it is already. And besides, I loved the kissing anyway.)

The only thing I didn't care for was the forceful way she kissed with me. I enjoyed it a great deal emotionally, but physically it wasn't as pleasant as my other tongue-kissing experiences. Granted, I don't have much of a baseline for comparison: Cheerilee, Pinkie Pie, and Zecora are the sum total of my experiences. (Also Scootaloo through my dream the previous evening, but I'd rather not count that one, Journal. I didn't realize it was real when it was happening. Let's call it a "mulligan".)

All of the other French kisses I've had have been very gentle, so Rainbow's style of kissing was a huge contrast. She shoved her tongue right up into my oral cavity and roughly pressed it against mine. It felt weird, and violent. I was scared for a moment, and I wasn't enjoying it. But a few seconds later I started to feel pleasure on an emotional level. Something about Rainbow's brashness was pushing buttons (figuratively) that I didn't know I had within me. It wasn't the kiss itself, but what the kiss meant, deep within my mind. (Yet again, this simply goes to show that the most important sexual organ is the pony brain.)

I'll return to the "meaning" part later. For now, back to the kiss.

I wasn't resisting Rainbow at any point, yet she used a lot of force anyway. For a brief moment, her tongue lengthened and spooled into my mouth. Fortunately, she was able to suppress the "wolf", which I find admirable given how difficult I've found it is to control those feelings—and I've never been completely turned like she is.

Just to be on the safe side, I tried to reserve a small portion of my cognitive awareness to detect signs of Rainbat Dash, so that I could respond quickly if things got out of hoof. However, as our tongues danced (more like slam-danced), those thoughts spilled rapidly out of my brain (again figuratively), right along with all other forms of coherent thought. Being nearly unable to think should be terrifying, but the experience was too wonderful to let the horror seep through. Even though it made me feel dizzy and helpless, I didn't want it to stop. I hypothesize that this is what orgasms are for, from an evolutionary perspective: to let you know that you can stop now. (Query: how do vamponies know when to stop if they keep having orgasms? Surely, sex must get tiring or boring after a while, right? Maybe that's a flaw I can exploit...)

So even though I didn't enjoy how it felt, it was turning me on. Maybe being a partial-vampony for a short amount of time was all it took to turn me into an awful pervert. Or, maybe I was a pervert to begin with, and I just never knew it. I'm uncertain which possibility is more abhorrent.

Rainbow Dash pushed me down onto the bed and continued her oral aggression. Our two sets of wings, both rigidly spread, pressed and flicked against each other. As she had her way with my muzzle, my emotions started getting the better of me. Once again I felt like I was falling in love with one of my closest friends. I wanted to give her what she wanted, no matter what that meant, even if it weren't pleasurable. The fact that she insisted on taking it from the outset meant I didn't have to do anything to attain my goal. It was impossible for me to screw things up, in other words. This was going to happen no matter what. With that epiphanic state of mind, all the knots of anxiety inside my body and mind melted away.

Dash kept forcing my tongue where she wanted it to go like it was her own personal joystick. Then she sucked hard enough to yank my tongue inside her mouth, so she could have her way with it there too. Even when I was inside her body, she asserted complete control. I was her plaything, and that idea alone was almost as pleasurable to my psyche as a gentler kiss would have felt to my lips.

Although I wasn't a fan of the roughness, physically speaking, her combative approach had another benefit: it quickly overwhelmed my senses, and this had a synergistic effect on my loss of control. I can't help but wonder if there's a way to have one's cake and eat it too? Could gentle kissing produce the same effect, perhaps by "redlining" me with the opposite approach? I'm sure Zecora could find a way to do it, or maybe Fluttershy... oh dear Celestia, Fluttershy's kisses must be legendary. I can't even imagine how amazing her mouth...

Oh great. Now I'm fantasizing about Fluttershy kissing me. I'm so doomed.

This feeling of losing control seems to be a recurring theme for me. I remember how being restrained by my parents allowed me to somehow enjoy that... ugh, that... experience. Add this to what I mentioned in a previous entry about the need to go from heightened stress directly to relaxation in order to achieve sexual release, and most fetishes actually start to make sense to me. For Dash, she doesn't have to worry about rejection if she controls me, so there's no pressure, and she can relax. For me, I don't have to worry about messing up because I have no options to choose from, so none of this is my fault, and I can relax. Oddly enough, it works remarkably well from both sides, but this methodology is highly contingent on the ponies themselves. I don't think it would work if Dash and I weren't this... compatible(?) together. And I don't think I could enjoy doing what she does (or that she could enjoy being in my position, though I don't really know).

How do husbands and wives navigate desires like this together? Does it always just sort of work out, automatically? Since I would pin Dash's behavior as more of an anomaly, this seems statistically improbable to say the least, unless of course fatalistic magic has something to do with it. I could imagine the Tree of Harmony arranging dominant and, what would the other one be called, obsequious(?) ponies to fall in love... No, wait. That's ridiculous. That would be too weird, even for a timeless magic tree.

Hold on a moment, I'm going to go back and review part of the journal.

Okay. I just re-read the horrible conversation I had with my brother and his wife, the one that convinced me that my friends had turned into monsters. It was difficult to read, emotionally, but not nearly as rough as it had been to write. Am I losing my mind if his arguments seem more reasonable now? I shouldn't find anything he says in that chapter to be persuasive, but I'm starting to think that maybe we could have tried to talk things out if I hadn't been so quick to shut him out. I still can't believe that Shining Armor is a bad pony. We've both clearly been misjudging one another. But he's wrong, and I feel so... conflicted. I still don't know what to think.

Stars above, I wish Celestia were here right now. She could tell me exactly what to do. Horse apples, now I'm thinking about HER that way.

You know, Journal (well, obviously you "know", it's written in you), Princess Cadance said something odd at the dinner that I'd forgotten about. She mentioned that not all mares needed to be ordered about, but somehow she and my brother knew that I did, and I guess they were on the right track about my psychology. Is this some sort of vampony sense? Or did my brother know me better than I knew myself? Or worse still, did everypony know this about me, and they were all afraid to mention it?

Okay, this is an awful lot of boring philosophical masturbation, so I'll return to the actual story for now.

Rainbow Dash forced her tongue in my mouth (as mentioned), then she shoved me down onto the bed and held me down. Pegasi weigh significantly less than unicorns (and transitively, pegacorns: my weight didn't change at all when I ascended), even though neither of us weigh anywhere close to what an earth pony weighs (Pinkie's at least ten times heavier than I am, for one). What this means is that Rainbow Dash wasn't really holding me down. If I struggled really hard, I could have broken free.

That was irrelevant. Not only did I not want to struggle against her, she felt heavy to me. Subconsciously, I was completely unable to resist, because that's what I wanted to be true. It was mind over matter, or in this case, mind over matter over mind. So I let her tongue-kiss me and grip my upper ankles with her forehooves, because in a manner of speaking, I really did have no choice.

I gasped as she broke the kiss. I'd been breathing okay through my nose, but I needed a lot of air because my mind was spinning like a gyroscope. A grin slowly spread across her face.

"So whatcha gonna do now, egghead?" she said, with narrowed eyes. I must have blushed the color of Big Macintosh.

"I... I..." I stammered, still gasping for breath.

"Hmm?" she teased me.

I paused for a moment. "Anything you want, M-Mistress," I finally whispered, smiling demurely. (Holy buck, saying that felt good.)

Her eyes widened and her wings twitched, flexing in tiny pulses. Dash definitely blushed the color of Big Macintosh.

"Heh, um," she said, as nervousness began to creep across her face. "Be careful what you wish for Twi. I might just take every last tiny bit of your sexy, dorky little body for my own."

I breathed in sharply through my nostrils, flaring them, my lips tightly pursed. "If you want to... yes," I said. I probably sounded stupid, but I was as nervous as the first time I gave a public speech in magic kindergarten—and so was she, I think (I mean she was nervous, not that she went to magic kindergarten). We were both ad-libbing on instinct. It was scary, but not in a bad way. It was similar to the experience of being on a roller coaster, except this was much more thrilling.

Rainbow Dash licked her chops, and I saw her fangs poke out just a little. "I really want to bite you, honey," she said. (I've never heard her call somepony "honey" before.) "Like, to taste you. Your blood, I mean. This vampony thing... it's, like, really, really strong."

"I don't have a vampony cure yet, but I can reverse the infection if I'm the one who's infected," I explained. "As long as I don't turn all the way into a vampony, I mean. I don't know if it works if the infection finishes completely, but that can take days. You can do whatever you want."

"Right, but you don't want me to do gross stuff like that... do you?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"I want you to bite me, Rainbow Dash." (I couldn't have put that any plainer, could I?)

She bit at her own lip instead, and a drop of blood came out. "I want to do it, um..." Her eyes slowly drifted downward toward my pelvis.

I pulled myself further up onto Celestia's bed, and Dash broke her hold on me momentarily. I reached down with my hooves and spread my labia. I was already wet, and even though I wasn't a vampony, I could smell myself. I think I could smell Dash too. And it wasn't gross in the slightest (at least, not to my damaged, all-bucked-up, sex-addled mind).

At that gesture, Rainbow Dash gasped so hard it sounded like she was choking. She began to pant with her mouth open wide (it reminded me of cider season).

"Twi, I'm, um... I can't," she said with a pained look on her face. "If I let myself bite you there, I'm totally changing into a vampony all the way, and then I'll go crazy again like I did in the caverns..."

We looked at each other for several quiet moments, and I think both of us realized we wanted that to happen: to let Dash go full vampony, then let it happen to me too, resistance be damned. But neither of us wanted that on the level of rational, cogent decisions. Fortunately, some small part of my brain was still functioning correctly, and it whirred like an overclocked piece of crystal-powered hardware to find a solution. (Ding!)

"Oh! Here you go," I said, and turned my head to the side. There were some spring-lock clothing hangers sitting atop the nearby dresser. I levitated two of them over, and pinned them on Rainbow's wings. They were a little awkwardly large, but they seemed to work.

"Ow," she complained, with a wince. Then she flexed her wings a little. "Um... I don't think I'm big into pain stuff, Twi. Not yet, anyway."

"It's not for that. The clips are to keep you from transforming all the way into nightwing mode. So you can let your fangs come out," I offered. "But if it hurts, you don't need to..."

I looked up at her, and her eyes (the irises) pulsed a blood-red color. Her fangs pushed well out from her gums, and her muzzle quivered almost like her teeth were chattering.

"You're so fucking hot, Twilight Sparkle," she hissed. "I want you more than anything. Ever. Please, please don't hate me."

"Hate you? I love you, silly." To illustrate, I reached down and again spread my labia, this time spreading my legs as wide as possible, too. (I was aiming for 'unambiguous'.) "Do it, down here," I insisted. "Pop my cherry, Rainbow Dash. Eat me all the way." My voice trembled like an Autumn leaf, but not because I was uncertain. I was more certain of this statement than any phrase that had passed my lips before it.

"Oh, f-f-ffffffuck," Dash whined. She seemed to no longer notice the clips on her wings as she knelt between my spread legs. Hunched up on the bed, she lowered her muzzle to my folds and inhaled deeply. This should have been disgusting, but it wasn't. I wanted her to like every part of me. (Yes, even that part.)

Then, the sexiest thing happened. Our eyes met and locked, right while her face was buried between my legs. She kept staring at me as her tongue lengthened and gently (not roughly, oddly enough—at least at first) slithered along the interior of my rounded pony cleft. Looking at me was turning her on more than looking at my pussy, and it made me feel just like a real princess (which, ironically enough, I never seem to feel like). My heart (metaphorically, of course) totally gave into her. I didn't care if she turned me into a vampony. I just wanted to be hers: a friend, a lover, a toy... and yes, a meal. I wanted to be useful, to make this beautiful mare feel good inside. (You know, she really is gorgeous. I see her sleeping on the bed right now, and I don't know why I never noticed her beauty before.)

She started kissing at my perineum, and she even kissed my anal pucker briefly. (Okay, that was really gross, but it still felt righter than rain. Eww, I guess...? Why doesn't it bother me?) Her kisses began soft and tiny, but the pressure quickly increased. In no time at all, she was sucking on my cunt just like it was another "Twilight Sparkle mouth", an equally passive one.

No, that's not quite true. My pussy was less passive, because it responded. The lips quivered of their own accord, somehow. I'm sure of it. And my clit flashed itself into view, winking at her, like some kind of a perverted Manehattan traffic light screaming "GO" as loud as a visual cue could manage.

Things got rough quickly, but it felt much nicer down there than in my mouth. I'd heard about "eating" genitals before, which seemed a silly euphemism, but here it was almost literal. (Well, actually literal, but I'm getting ahead of myself.) The only part of my sex that she stayed gentle with was my clit, which she would give little licks and very gentle suction to, every so often. Her hooves idly stroked my teats, but she didn't use her mouth on them.

Eventually she started looking down at her task (my groin, I mean), but she still made eye contact with me every now and then, each time bearing this strange, evil-looking grin on her face. As she looked down, then up, then down, then up, I didn't know whether Twilight Sparkle was the pony watching her friend muzzlefuck her, or if I was merely the hole between my legs being ravished. It felt like "me" was both of these things at the same time. It was incredible (and edible—but again, that's coming in a moment).

I gasped very loudly when Rainbow Dash finally clamped her mouth hard around my entire pussy, forming an airtight seal. The sound bubble was still up around the chamber, fortunately, because Dash was getting louder as well. I felt something slender and wet slipping deeply within me, in a place I'd never felt contact with before. She was inside my actual vagina, past the unbroken hymen, her tongue stroking the walls. This elicited an immediate yelp of surprise and pleasure. At some point (not sure when) I had placed my hooves on Rainbow's head, and I was fighting the urge to hold her down against my groin. (Would that switching of roles work for her, or even for me? Or would doing that just be a kind compliment on her performing an amazing job?)

She pulled free with a loud slurp, and I was right on the edge of orgasming. (I have no idea how I kept from orgasming up until this point.)

"Y-you were inside me," I gasped. "That was amazing."

"Do you still, um, want me to... y'know?" The raw need on her face was obvious. She wasn't asking a question. She was begging.

"Take my cherry, please," I asked her. "I want you to have it all, right now. Just do it, and get the pain over with..."

"It doesn't hurt much," she said. "Hardly at all. Oh fuck, Twi, I want to eat it, like, I want to chew up that little virgin arch and swallow..."

"Yes, do it!" I said, nodding vigorously. (In retrospect, this should have been terrifying, but sex makes you lose the ability to cogitate rationally. This is very apparent to me by now. I have a very large set of data points to back up this fact.)

Her irises flashed red again, and she also got this wild, distant look in her eyes. Her head dived back down and she flexed her jaw to reveal fully extracted fangs. Slowly but firmly, Rainbow Dash planted her bottom teeth into the soft arch of my hymen.

If you haven't seen a mare's hymen before (if you're a stallion reading this, I mean, in which case you're probably a horrible pony for continuing to read at this point, and maybe have no business reading graphic sexual descriptions if you're too naive to know about hymens in the first place, but I guess I can't fairly judge): a horse's hymen is a horseshoe-shaped region of flesh with the top of the arch toward the anus (away from the clitorus). So it's normally an upward arch, except I was upside down (i.e. laying on my back) so the arch was oriented on the bottom. Obviously I couldn't see any of what happened next, but I could definitely feel it. Dear Celestia, how could I feel it.

The first thing I noticed was that sharp but gentle poke, followed by pressure from the inside of my vagina. At the time I had no idea what this was, but now I realize that the following was happening: Rainbow Dash had inserted her lower mandibular canines into my hymen, and the pressure was because her tongue had slipped inside to press back against the hymen (from behind it), holding it firmly in place against her fangs. She growled while digging her lower fangs in, and then the pressure subsided (now I realize this was because she retracted her tongue into her mouth). Moments later, her muzzle closed down and pushed entirely into my vulva, and her upper fangs sunk firmly into the lip of the arch opening.

Then, Rainbow Dash began to drink my blood.

I shivered and twitched, but some part of me had the presence of mind to provide feedback. This came in the form of my hind legs tilting upwards to rest around her neck, which helped to hold her in place (not that she had any intent to pull herself out of my pussy, mind you). I leaned up slightly from where I lay and gently stroked her mane with one of my hooves. I'm not sure how I accomplished either of these feats whilst in the throes of passion, but subconsciously my body just automatically responded. I wanted her to know this was right, because it was right. Even though it was sick, it was right. Somewhere in the midst of all the sickness, there was real love. I believe that even now, when I'm not horny. (Well, not super-horny. Writing this out is affecting me a little, I admit.)

My vagina began to tingle, especially my still-intact hymen from which she drained my essence. I knew this sensation: it was the vampony infection, and it was setting in rapidly. The heavy exchange of saliva and blood was giving me a huge dose of the curse. I doubted I would turn into a vampony without warning, but in my mind I imagined it could happen at any moment, because that's what I wanted to imagine.

She started to chew my flesh. Her fangs worried open holes in my cherry, giving her more access to my blood. I don't remember any pain at all at that point, ironically. I don't know if it was the vampony infection, or just the lust of the experience, or maybe if the whole "popping your cherry hurts" mythos is exaggerated; but I felt only a tiny bit of pain at the beginning, and even that was pleasurable. It was like getting a shot at the clinic, but this was a magical shot making everything in the world right—one expressing our love for each other in a strange, highly unsanitary manner.

Rainbow Dash's neck began to worm around slightly, twisting and bobbing as she gently pulled my flesh apart. She pulled free momentarily and looked up to me with a wide-eyed, dangerous-looking grin on her face. There wasn't much blood, but it was very obviously there and she wanted me to see it: dripping from her lips, a little on the middle of her chin, and her beautiful mouth redder than anypony's mouth should ever be.

She paused only long enough to gauge my reaction (shocked, filled with desire, and open for more, I think), then dove her muzzle back inside my and began to chew again. This time there wasn't any holding back. The noises she made were grotesque slurping and soft chewing kinds of sounds like something out of a horror movie (or maybe just a really good hayburger). The tingling was intensifying. I could feel the infection, and I loved it. I wanted to be with her, and I wanted to be like her, even if neither of us wanted to be a vampony. I felt a tugging sensation, and I realized she was literally ripping through the flesh with her fangs. It wasn't painful, but it wasn't clinically precise either. After the initial tearing, she began nibbling more accurately around the rim of what I assumed remained of my hymen. She licked her lips more than once. I'm certain she was swallowing the tiny bits of flesh she removed, and I wasn't even disturbed by it. I don't know why that didn't freak me out. I just wasn't thinking about anything anymore.

Finally, she grabbed my hips with both forehooves, and shoved her tongue in deep, all coiled up so it would feel thick, like a stallion. This was appropriate. Rainbow Dash was my stallion. She sucked against my entire vulva, and I could feel the bulk of her tongue pressing against the ragged edge of my missing cherry as she twisted it inside of me. I hit my climax, and it was absolutely overwhelming, qualitatively different from my other recent orgasms. I didn't "spray" anything, but I screamed and bucked my hips as she tried to hold me in place.

It took several minutes, but Rainbow Dash finally withdrew herself from me, licked her chin and lips with an impossibly long tongue, and lay atop me, face to face.

"I... I hope that was okay," she said, her voice still a bit gravelly from the nightwing nature peeking out from within her. (I could feel her body shivering, and I suspected she just climaxed as well.)

"It was amazing. I love you, Rainbow Dash," I said.

This was probably an exaggeration, I know. I don't even know what love is for certain, and I can't understand how something so deep and important could develop so quickly. It's been like this for each of my friends who became intimate with me (except the CMC). Maybe the love had always been there, hidden? Either way, it felt right, and she didn't try to correct me. Instead, she smiled and shoved her tongue into my mouth, this time allowing it to lengthen and fill my oral cavity to capacity.

I tasted the coppery flavor of my own blood, and revelled in it. With it was mixed a slightly vinegar-like, sour and sweet flavor, which only now I realize must be what my pussy tastes like inside. Or, my, er, "juices", so to speak (okay, that does feel a little gross). Dash was showing me what it was like, what she just enjoyed.

This went on for another minute or two. Then she broke the kiss, and her face was suddenly serious.

"Twi, um, you need to do the thing with the spell, right now. So you can stop the vampony thing. I think eating your cherry was too much for your body, and I can smell your scent changing already..."

"No," I said, as I smiled and looked into Dash's eyes. She looked horrified.

"Don't play me, Twi. Do it, please. You do not want to be a vampony. Trust me on this," she said, shaking her head.

"I want to be like you," I said, grabbing her cheeks with my hooves to stop the shaking. "I don't care what it means."

"Princess Twilight Sparkle, you cast that bucking spell right now," she said. She sounded angry, but the look on her face said "fear". Something in the air did, too—I could smell it. I started to feel a warm tingling all over my pelt.

But she was right, and I cast the spell.

It didn't seem to do anything. The feeling continued to intensify.

"Oh no, I don't think it worked!" I gasped, and began to panic.

Rainbow Dash shriveled back, her eyes watery. "I did this," she squeaked, voice filled with pain and guilt. And it was false, because this was my fault, not hers. I couldn't let this happen to her.

With all my might, I focused every ounce of remaining magical energy through my horn and tried to powercast the spell. (This is when you use brute magical force to get something to work when it shouldn't. It almost never works.) There was a threshold resisting me, and it was mostly a threshold within my mind, one I had created for myself by force of will.

I wasn't about to let Dash suffer for this. I almost blacked out as I finished the spell, and I couldn't see for a few minutes afterwards.

My body had a mild seizure. I could hear Rainbow Dash panicking, and begging me to be okay. The shakes subsided, and I breathed a sigh of relief. The sensations had left my body.

"I... I did it," I gasped. I felt a strong hug from her, and I smiled and hugged her back. "It's okay."

She breathed a sigh of relief of her own. "We shouldn't have done this. We can't do something like this again," she said. "Wait, can you... see me, Twilight?"

"I'm temporarily blind from the spell," I explained. "I should be okay soon."

"Thank the Sun you're alright," she said, and held me tight.

"It's okay," I repeated. "And I'm better than 'alright'. That was the most wonderful experience of my life!"

"Really?!"

I nodded blindly and smiled.

We cuddled for a few hours, both of us dipping into and out of sleep. For me, it was never long enough to start dreaming, but eventually I realized she wasn't going to wake up for a few hours, so I joined her. (After recasting the audio bubble and the sigil to refresh both spells, that is.)

Then I had a very revealing dream, which I'm about to transcribe.

I'm going to leave a full blank page after this article, Journal. I suspect I may want to come back to it and rethink the "sex" thing and what it all means, at some point.

Update: I don't really have more to say that isn't said in future articles, so I'll leave this open for later. Don't stop reading! (This Journal, and also in general, of course.)