Scootaloo drew in her small wings, bracing her slim frame against the wind fluttering through Ponyville. She found herself gazing at the skies for not the first time that day, attempting to let her mind drift away from the miserable stupor she’d been in since the harvest. Tears dripped from her amethyst eyes, rolling down her ochre cheeks. She whimpered gently, each image flashing across her mind like a whip cracking across her skin, evoking a fresh flood of warm tears to stream over her face. She blindly stumbled under a tree, collapsing in a miserable heap by the rough, knotted trunk. She cried for what seemed to be hours, torturous memories collecting in her mind, her emotions running in confused circles – sad, angry, confused, and finally, the want to give up. She sobbed openly whilst sad, whined in frustration and beat her hooves on the floor whilst angered, buried her head in her forelegs when confused and stared blankly at the sky when she wanted to give up.  The harvest was bringing her to the edge, her worries and paranoia clouding her personality, but she wouldn’t give in, not like Apple Bloom.

That was one thing the little Pegasus filly was determined of.

She wouldn’t let her sadness cloud her judgement, her sanity; not only for herself, but for those she loved.

Scootaloo’s ears pricked up, hearing fast hoofbeats resounding nearby, echoing through the otherwise quiet and peaceful landscape Scootaloo has settled herself in. She looked around wildly, dragging her hoof across her eyes in an effort to dry up the best of the tears, and spotted Sweetie Belle thundering down the cobbled path, her purple and pink mane flying haphazardly behind her, a worried expression painted on her face. Scootaloo stood up and met her filly friend half way.

“It’s Apple Bloom,” Sweetie Belle said. “She said we have to meet in the clubhouse, because she has… an idea. And a surprise.”

Scootaloo stepped backwards, shaking her head from side to side.

“No… nononono… I’m not getting involved in any more of her ideas… And I’m not sure I’d like her surprise…” she whispered, her body trembling visibly.

Sweetie Belle nodded, her concern shining through her face, empathising with her friend.

“I know,” she said, “That’s just what I thought. But you know what’s happened to her. Maybe we should just see what she wants… and then, when she’s happy, we can get her some help. The adults will know what to do, right?”

Scootaloo gulped and looked to the floor, reluctant to admit her agreement with the plan. She scuffed the ground with her hoof, nodding her head slightly. Sweetie Belle moved over to her friend, slipping her arm around Scootaloo’s neck, hugging her.

“We’ll get through this – we’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders!” she whispered, her eyes watering slightly, a warm smile playing across her mouth.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo sniffed, returning the smile meekly, “I guess we will.”

---

The pair arrived at the clubhouse, knocking gently on the weathered door.

“Who’s there?” Apple Bloom snapped, her eyes darting to the door, annoyed that her careful work had been interrupted.

“It’s us.” Sweetie Belle sighed, pushing open the door with her hoof and staring at the dishevelled Apple Bloom in front of her. Her mane stuck out in angles, hairs stray, matted, dirty. Her fur was dirty and matted too, and the slight silhouette of her ribcage indicated she hadn’t seen the business end of an apple in days. Sweetie Belle silently wondered why Applejack hadn’t noticed, but cast the thought aside as her eyes dropped to Apple Bloom’s flank.

A sharp, glinting needle protruded from it, thread trailing along from the silver shard of metal, which Apple Bloom was hurriedly poking through one last part of her skin. The needle’s point sunk into her skin, earning an excited gasp and giggle from Apple Bloom, who delved it in further before pulling it out and biting through the thread. She staggered upright, a quiet, dry giggle rumbling from her mouth.

“Well, girls, how do you like it?” she stammered, her eyes large and round, twitching and gaping at the fillies in front of her. She gave a small twirl, her dirty mane swinging around in an arc, her flank decorated with two striped candy canes, arching into a heart. Twist’s cutie mark. Apple Bloom giddily returned from her twirl, her grin strangely out of proportion from her face, warping her features.

“I CAN’T HEAR YOU!” she screamed, rage flaring from within her, wiping away the insane happiness she had experienced moments before.

The two other fillies mumbled praise, awkwardly shifting around from what used to be their friend, but they both felt she couldn’t even be called a pony anymore. Apple Bloom was a monster. She nodded wisely, taking in the praise, grinning, appreciating the cutie mark. She plonked down into a sitting position, clapping her hooves together.

“Now, for my next idea. I think, due to our success,” Apple Bloom shined brightly at this word, her grin stretching even further, contorting her features, “we should have a double hit. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon.”

The other fillies nodded hesitantly, subdued.

“But, I think they should have a special treatment, because they’ve been so pleasant to us!” she said, sarcasm dripping from her words.

“Blanks flanks!” she screeched, mocking their voices, followed by an obnoxious laugh.

“So, I thought… why not give them something really… forbidden? Something we shouldn’t know about, but we will like so much…” she whispered, the light playing across her figure, creating an ominous shadow beside her as she slowly stepped closer to the fillies in front of her.

“Rape.” She uttered, a single word, but with so much satisfaction, a slight tinge of desperation mingling into a creepy grin, shadows looming over Apple Bloom’s face.

Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo stood silent, unconvinced. Apple Bloom realised this and smirked, rising to the challenge.

"Imagine them screaming", Apple Bloom said, breathing rapidly, her eyelids fluttering shut in a blissful expression.

"The screaming, while you do wonderful things to them... And no one will know. We'll feel all grown up, doing things we shouldn't know how, and they'll like it, they'll like it more than they know how. Doesn't that just thrill you?"

Her voice became thick and sensual, Apple Bloom biting her lip as she visualised the scene playing out, the small mound of flesh between her legs becoming sensitive to every movement. Her eyelids gradually lifted open to reveal an unsure Scootaloo and a mildly aroused Sweetie Belle, and Apple Bloom stood up, content. As long as at least one other Crusader would go along with this portion of the plan, everything was fine.

“Scootaloo, since you aren’t doing this, coward, you are in charge of getting them. You will climb up, drug them, and take them back down to us, where we will be waiting with sacks. Got it?” she said with ease, as if insulting her once best friend were nothing. Scootaloo nodded in reply, her eyes betraying her mistrust and hurt at the insult, opening her mouth to ask a question, only to be interrupted by Apple Bloom.

“I have a place to get the drug. It will be easy to administer, don’t you worry.”  She said, stepping closer to Scootaloo,

inhaling the musky scent that radiated off her. She snapped around and looked at Sweetie Belle.

“You’re doing it with me, Sweetie Belle,” she said, her gaze steely and serious, yet the twisted grin still stretching across her jaw, “And you are in for some fun, I can assure you.” Apple Bloom flicked her knotted tail and sat down, her gaze sultry, her hollow eyes unblinking in Sweetie Belle’s direction.

The plan was decided, and the date set. Apple Bloom smirked triumphantly, peering over at the fillies who were wrapped around her hoof. Sweetie Belle looked flustered and shy, embarrassed of her arousal. Scootaloo sat dejectedly, looking out of the window.

Apple Bloom smiled to herself, smoothing her hoof over the pristine cutie mark, its vibrant pink colours sharp against the creamy white background. She savoured her victory, her triumph, her trophy, in a haze of happiness and accomplishment.

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