I've decided that Fridays will be the day for guest submissions, and I'm going to follow some general guidelines for "Guest Submission Friday" (Name may need changing [it kinda sucks], and I'm posting this at the beginning of each guest submission this week (and eventually somewhere else) so you all will be guaranteed to see it.);

1. So readers don't die of riff overload, I'm going to post no more than 5 guest submissions each Friday. The last thing I want is for twenty riffs to be released on one day and only two or three the following week. Consistency and all that.

2. Only one riff per riffer each Friday. This is the rule I'm most likely going to make an exception for. If I have fewer than five riffs from different authors, I'll most likely remove the limit for that week.

3. Extraordinarily long riffs that are broken into multiple parts I'm going to spread out over the course one or more weeks. These don't count towards the one riff per week limit.

4. First come first serve. I'm not going to play favorites or anything. I'm posting the guest submissions in the order I receive them excluding when I receive multiple riffs from a single person. Then I'll push those riffs to next week.

5. No riffs by me. It's "Guest Submission Friday", not "RatherHomely Posts Silly Riffs Friday".

If you have any questions or suggestions about this, feel free to contact me.

We now return you to your featured Guest Submission.

RatherHomely here, and I have a secret. You may have never guessed this, but I despise Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. With a passion. I'm sure it's unhealthy to despise an animated equine, but damn it! They're so obnoxious! So it was quite a delight seeing this story that tries to make Diamond Tiara a... (shudders) Sex object. Just... No... Good luck, Atlas and Typewriterpony. You'll need it.

... Well, enjoy!

Atlas: Atlas Nebula here, and *looks at the fanfic* . . . oh no. Okay, so this is the clopfic starring Diamond Tiara and a raging pedophile human. Good thing I brought my popcorn, my machete, my nail gun, my trash can, and to top it all off . . . C4 explosives. I have nothing personal against AP so this smut was spared from my clop eating crocodiles.

Typewriterpony: Let’s see...I’ve got a banana, two sticks of gum and a crank-style pencil sharpener. *Sigh* I knew I should have paid the extra $10 for a Standard Riff Kit. Oh well, let’s see how this works out, shall we? Blind riff is a go!

How to Handle Grown-Ups by AP

        Type: You could always use the ‘M’ word.

        Atlas: Menstruation?

My heart was racing.

        Atlas: It explodes, ending the shortest story ever written.

I knocked on the door again.

Resisting somehow the urge to begin pacing,

        Type: “As the black and bloated Raven perched and sat, and nothing more...”

        Atlas: “They’ll find out that it’s under the floorboards, I just know it!”

I simply stood outside the entrance to the of the Rich household.

        Type: “Richie of the Rich” just wasn’t a catchy title.

 Internal panic planted by a stray thought threatened to overtake me.

Type: Good, he hasn’t noticed that we’re here. Now let’s get the hell out before we’re sucked down into Limbo.

Atlas: I liked that game.

 What if he had found another babysitter for his daughter?

Type: Perhaps even a certain alicorn who’s the best babysitter in all of Equestria?

Atlas: Luna?

What if he had taken her with him? 

Type: I doubt Robin Williams would go that far to ignore his visitation rights. Dressing in drag is enough.

No, I thought.

Type: Then he left and enjoyed his life and died surrounded by his children and grandchildren decades later.

No, there was no way that could be the case. I had to see my princess tonight.

Type: The Duchess of Cambridge sure does attract the most interesting people.

There was no possible alternative.

Type: “The prince is just too gosh darned ugly.”

The door opened and I almost let out a condemning sigh of relief.

        Atlas: Condemning everything! This parrot! That clock! That snail!

        Type: It’s the lazier, more melodramatic cousin to Judas’ Kiss of Death.

Instead, I put on a casual smile and relaxed,

        Type: With my boat shoes and khaki slacks on, I’m ready for anything!

Atlas: If you know what I mean. *waggles his eyebrows*

all my fears alleviated.

        Type: Tying all those spiders to 99 red balloons must be my best idea yet.

        Atlas: Almost as good as masturbating with sand paper.

        Type: Well, how else am I supposed to get lube?

“Oh, there you are!” Filthy Rich said, motioning me inside restlessly,

        Type: “Mr. Rich, you’re trying to seduce me.”

“I thought you were going to be late.”

        Type: “Not when I’ve turned back all the clocks in your house!”

                FR: “What was that?”

                “Uh, I mean...what a lovely...house!”

I stepped into his home, my smile morphing into an apologetic one.

Type: Once upon a time you were a teenager with attitude, but today you’re an adult with responsibilities.

Atlas: Not this adult, of course.

“Yeah, sorry about that Mr. Rich. I had a few errands to run today...”

        Atlas: Getting lube for the bunghole. Already I have no standards.

Type: The generic brand you get from the guy in a trenchcoat in the back alley is just as good, anyways.

The pony seemed unconcerned with my excuses as he

        Type: Pointed out that he never gave any homework for my dog to have eaten.

ushered me into his living room, obviously preoccupied with his own thoughts.

Type: FR: ‘Now how am I going to tell Diamond Tiara that her mother is a crazy pony wearing a propeller beanie?’

I gave the room a cursory inspection.

Type: “There’s a fuckin’ chair, and a shitty couch...oooh, I really like that cuntnificent armoir! And that fantastic china set? My niggs!”

Atlas: Fo’ rizzle mah nizzle.

As usual, everything was spotless.

        Type: Spirals. Spirals, everywhere.

Far from the extravagance one would expect to see employed in a family as wealthy as Mr. Rich's,

Type: The toilet paper they use is actually made up of Twilight’s unwanted letters to the Princess, stitched together.

his home was practical and solid.

        Type: Balsa wood has many uses when you’re as tightwadded as Filthy Rich.

Augmented only by

        Type: Cannons. Bitches love them.

        Atlas: I gave dat bitch a bass cannon. Bitches love bass cannons.

the necessary furniture,

Type: It’s actually Filthy Rich’s butlers and maids holding themselves into position for hours at a time.

there was a decided lack of gaudy bobbles

        Type: Who wants to play with my keys? *Jangle jangle jangle*

        Atlas: Jingle Jangle!

that indicated that Mr. Rich was a man

        Type: He’s a pony that chooses.

        Atlas: How does it feel to be one of the beautiful ponies?

who never spent a single bit on something he didn't need.

Type: There’s been some questions lately about his spray painting ponies gold and leaving them for dead on his mattress every weekend.

The plainness of the room only served

        Type: Expired cans of soup.

as a contrast to the being of beauty and form that lay sprawled in the center of the floor,

        Atlas: Please let it be Spitfire . . .

Type: *While sitting naked in a chair in front of a fireplace* Oh, I wasn’t expecting guests! Let me just put on my pants.

idly leafing through a fashion magazine.

Type: The pages are all actually blank. Diamond Tiara just scribbles a bunch of words on it and throws the ripped-off page down the dumbwaiter to the sweatshop under her house.

Diamond Tiara glanced upwards,

        Type: From behind her black thick-rimmed glasses with non-prescription lenses.

rolling her eyes and making an exaggerated display of her disgust at my presence.

        Type: Like, ennui, much?

        Atlas: Je vous deteste!

“Diamond, go to your room.” Mr. Rich commanded.

Type: FR: “Pearl and Ruby stop picking on your brother, Leaf Green!”

Apparently lacking her usual argumentative streak,

Type: She was up to Argumentativetacular but somepony decided to camp at a corner.

Atlas: Pretty prose! *spins in circles*

the filly stood up.

        Type: All them other Diamond Tiara’s are just imitatin’.

I was unsure if the emphasized stretching and yawning that followed was for my benefit

        Atlas: You don’t get benefits once I make sure they’ll never find the body.

        Type: You’re not really part of the Teamsters until you know how to stretch right.

 or was just deliberate hesitations of a passive-aggressive Diamond Tiara.

        Type:  “My Diamond Tiara can’t be this cute!”

 Regardless, I took full advantage of it – my eyes ran up and down

        Type: Just kidding, they couldn’t even finish the first lap before collapsing.

her as she stretched and flexed her toned body taut.

        Type: The only thing more arousing would be anything else.

Atlas: Unbirthing?

        Type: I was thinking fluffy ponies but that’s good too.

 I couldn't help but think about how much I wanted to grab the curvaceous filly

Type: Just because her head is literally a sphere with a snout and ears it doesn’t make her “curvaceous.”

Atlas: She’s prepubescent, she doesn’t have the curves of a mare . . . yet.

Type: Have you met my friend, Chris Hansen?

and rub down every single inch of her alluring body.

        Type: Wow, I don’t even have to chant “Think unsexy thoughts,” thanks!

        Atlas: This has the sexual appeal of open heart surgery.

Ending the routine with a

        Type: Triple Lutz

little shake of her rump,

        Type:

        Atlas: Where’s the Doctor? I am not amused by this!

it was difficult to keep my breathing regulated

Type: Is that what this pressure gauge is for? Whoopsie! *Throws it over shoulder*

as my heart begins to beat harder. Rich noticed nothing

        Atlas: But the kittens sure noticed. They can smell pedophilia.

        Type: That’s what security cameras are for.

as I leered at his daughter, already fucking her in my fantasies.

Type: “What’s that, you only got half a piece of bread when you ordered two? MWA-HA-HA-HA-HA! Next customer, please.”

Atlas: This fanfic is gonna cause me to go Shatner, isn’t it?

She finally rushed from the room,

        Type: Don’t run! “You’re tearing me apart!”

brushing past the two of us.

        Type: The room was only three ponies wide, you see.

        Atlas: I need a layout of the house so that I know where to plant the C4.

“And don't leave until he says you can!” Filthy Rich shouted after her as the door to her room slams shut.

Type: Filthy Rich finished doing something while it was in the process of happening...he must be a Time Lord.

The pony sighed.

        Type: FR: “How do I reech theese keeds?”

“I swear, that girl sometimes...”

        Type: “Bang zoom, straight to the moon! You know what I mean?”

He walked through the living room towards his luggage all neatly piled in a corner.

        Type: Hopefully there aren’t any drug-sniffing dogs at the airport.

        Atlas: How about we have bears maul this guy?

“Listen...I know how my daughter is sometimes.”

        Type: “A total bitch?”

FR: “No, a total bi-...oh...yeah.”

Atlas: She a certified 9 on the cunt-o-meter.

Type: Doesn’t that only go up to 5?

 He leaned over, picking up a briefcase and slinging it over his head.

Type: It was so adorable since it looked like his head was caught in an oversized mouse trap.

His voice was lower and solemn

Type: Then he hit himself in the face with a plank of wood and continued to chant.

Atlas: “Shark bait hoo-ha-ha!”

 – a tone of resignation.

        Type: His golden parachute didn’t have any blood diamond embroidery.

“Every babysitter we've ever had, whether they were expensive nannies specially requested from Canterlot,

        Type: It took weeks to fully clean her out of the jet engine.

or some neighborhood teenager,

        Type: After Diamond Tiara, Stacy McGill decided to leave the club.

she's had them pulling their mane out and quitting within a week.”

        Type: Have you tried the Horse Whisperer?

        Atlas: I would’ve just called in the firing squad, but that’s just me.

Good.

        Type: “Here’s the Final Jeopardy question: ‘What this fanfiction is not.’”

If he was still saying things like this, it meant that he had no idea about the true nature of the relationship between me and his daughter.

        Atlas: Much to our frustration.

        Type: For a girl who likes diamonds she sure is a gold digger.

 Seeing him struggling with his next bag,

        Type: Who knew that a live python makes for a terrible bag?

I rushed over and helped him with it.

        Type: By shouting out words of encouragement.

        “You must answer these questions three!”

“Thanks...I don't know what you're doing different,

        Atlas: Playing chess. Making waffles. Sharing socks. O_o

        Type: “I take off my pants and she just starts laughing.”

                FR: “Heheh, a bit crude, but that’s a pretty funny joke.”

                “Joke?”

but...well, I guess I'm just saying that I know

        Type: You don’t.

Diamond can be a handful sometimes...”

        Atlas: I’m starting to think that this might be anthro. NoOoOoOoOoOoO!!

        Type: That’s an oddly specific idiom for someone with hooves.

 An image of me squeezing a

        Type: …-n orange into your eye would make me very happy.

        Atlas: Or a lemon.

handful Diamond's flank flicked through my mind, but it was gone as soon as it came

Type: “Oh no, now the gay thoughts are coming back!”

Atlas: “Why is this green-maned stallion driving me to gay thoughts?”

– with no change in the comfortable smile I wore as a mask.

        Type: That shit-eating grin of yours goes well with the brown on your nose.

 “...and I appreciate that you're able to handle it.”

        Atlas: The show does the same thing but it’s still weird.

He made for the door, behind in his schedule.

Type: The flight stewardesses aren’t going to join the Mile-High-Club by themselves, you know.

“Oh, it's no problem, Mr. Rich!” I said, “There's something very special about your daughter.

Type: Is it the fact that she’d probably lose her cutie mark if she lost that tiara of hers?

Atlas: ♫Something in the way she moves attracts me like no other lover.♫

 It's really my pleasure.”

        Type: And the creepy dudes reading this unironically.

        Atlas: They’re like ticks in that they suck the blood of children.

He managed once last glance backwards

        Atlas: He glanced once. It was awful.

, looking comforted. Then he was gone –

        Type: Just like that Chinese curiosities shop after I bought that monkey’s paw.

rushing out the door

        Type: Was a tidal wave of blood that filled the hotel’s lobby.

and slamming it shut behind him.

The house was still for a few seconds,

        Atlas: Ze warudo!

        Type: It’s a record holder second only to Fluttershy.

the only sound being the excited beating of my heart

Type: *While punching and kicking* “Should’ve just handed over your lunch money, dweeb!”

and the faint ticking of the grandfather clock that stood in the corner.

Type: Filthy Rich really ought to thank that red-haired girl with the horns on her head for fixing it.

Atlas: Lucyfer was her name, I think.

 Then, sure enough, Diamond's door creaked open and I heard her bounding down the hallway.

        Atlas: Wouldn’t that be bouncing? *rubs his temples*

        Type: She must have heard the whir of the can opener running.

She entered the room, and already I felt myself grow hard in anticipation of what was to come.

        Type: Hell yeah, verbal abuse!

        Atlas: People were turned on by this . . . my soul can’t take much more.

Type: You gotta get yourself more grief seeds before you’re overwhelmed, dude, trust me.

Diamond walked over to me as I stood perfectly still,

        Type: Of course! Ponies’ sight depends on movement.

        Atlas: Nobody move a muscle.

prowling around me like a predator playing with her hapless prey. She dragged her two-toned tail all over my pants,

        Type: You don’t even care that she’s getting mud all over them, do you?

        Atlas: He doesn’t have a brain, so he wouldn’t care at all.

letting it rest on my crotch for a brief second longer than normal.

        Type: Which was “0” seconds.

        Atlas: 0.1 seconds? That’s an academy record!

Finally, finishing her inspection,

        Type: Even though the gasket is obviously leaking? Sure, why not.

she stood in front of me, sparing a glance

        Type: It made a satisfying “clink” in his begging cup.

at my aching tent

        Atlas: Poor choice of words. *punches P. Dophile in the jewels*

        Type: How does camping equipment even get arthritis?

before turning her eyes upwards to meet my face

        Type: She snapped her neck from having to look so high.

        Atlas: Happy ending!

“Well?” she asked, sounding annoyed and raising an eyebrow.

        Atlas: “Are you going to scratch my back or what?”

        Type: Poor choice of words. *Brings out wooden paddle*

I whimpered quietly at the expected word

Type: DT’s never shown anypony, not even her Vice-Captain Silver Spoon that her true cutie mark is hypnotism.

Atlas: Congratulations, DT, you’re the new hypnotoad.

and nodded at her. Reaching into my pocket,

Type: True to his “creeper” title there’s a hole in the lining for easy access while he’s in public.

I wrapped my hands around a large leather bag. 

        Type: Must be awkward talking to cows, huh?

        Atlas: I spy a plot hole. I’d take a drink but I don’t want to die by the end of this.

Type: Counting up the number of things to drink for up to this point I’m pretty sure you already would be.

She smiled when she heard the bits clacking against one another as I pulled the bag out into view.

        Type: Surprisingly enough the Hello Kitty design was actually pretty tasteful.

Her eyes grew wide and, for the first time since I arrived, a look of genuine excitement and happiness was evident on her face.

        Type: Is it because they’re going to the arcade...?

        Atlas: Are they going to Disney World?

She stared at the heavy bag of coins

        Type: I don’t want to pull out stereotypes but she did have a mark-mitzvah.

as I made to put it on top of the bookshelf

        Type: Link walked in and had at it.

– as usual – but she halted me with a word.

        Type: DT: “Pneumonoultramicroscopicsilicovolcanoconiosis.”

“Wait.”

Instantly, I stopped.

        Type: What are you doing?! She didn’t say “Simon says!”

“Don't you think you owe me for the show I put on earlier? I saw you staring at me like a dumb animal.”

        Type: But he is a dumb animal.

Atlas: He is a human in Equestria, therefore it is required by law that he left his brain back on Earth. I can literally count the number of smart HiE protagonists on one hand, and I don’t even have to use all five fingers.

Type: I wish I knew a smart HiE protagonist.

Atlas: I spy self advertisement!

She said, smiling slyly.

        Type: ...I guess you deserve that quadruple word score...

        Atlas: Your reward is . . . death by snu-snu!

The option to argue never really entered my mind.

Type: Another reason to hate people who are part of the Itty Bitty Filly Committee.

Atlas: ♫Well you’ve got opportunity in this very community!♫

I just nodded,

        Type: His neck is actually a coiled spring and his head just bobbles around.

        Atlas: I keep thinking of the human being a giant slinky now. Thanks.

        Type: It’ll make it that much more fun to kick him down a flight of stairs.

 assured that she was right and enraptured by her beauty.

        Type: I’d say DT is more enamored by herself than enraptured.

 Opening the bag, I fished out a few a bits and dropped them into her waiting hoof.

“Four bits?” She stared at them, disgusted.

        Type: I’ll take those if you don’t want ‘em. Papa needs a new pair of horseshoes!

        Atlas: “Only four organs?! And you didn’t even get a kidney!”

“I get more in allowance every day!”

        Type: Yeah, like 5 bits is such a big difference.

        Atlas: Allowance for what? Pleasuring her father?

        Type: *Takes out paddle again*

She threw them to the ground,

        Type: “Welcome to the real world, jackass!”

        Atlas: “I threw the rest of the cake too!”

one of them rolling across the floor and hitting my shoe.

        Type: It’s then you wish you weren’t an extremely brittle hemophiliac.

“I let you leer at my body like a horny dog, you pervert.

        Type: What an ecchi-hentai-baka!

        Atlas: Otaku! *gets out a taser and shocks Type*

        Type: *still smoldering* Worth it.

Obviously, a filly as beautiful as me is worth more than 4 bits!”

Type: I dunno. There’s this really tasty-looking sandwich for only 1 bit and I’m sure it won’t be as much of an annoying bitch while I’m eating it.

Atlas: My left hand is useful 24/7 free of charge. What now?!

As if I needed anything further than her word to agree unconditionally to her demands,

Type: *sigh* Why don’t you buy her underwear and gym uniform, while you’re at it?

she sat down and ran her hoof sensually from her chin down her body.

        Type:

        Atlas: *stabs himself with a machete* Nurse!!!

Soon, a large handful of bits was flowing from my hand to the ground, pooling into a pile

Atlas: Liquid coins? Those sound far too dangerous for a single celled organism such as yourself.

 in front of Diamond as she stared at the glittering gold, she eyes sparkling with delight.

        Type: They call him the “Pegasus” because he’s always makin’ it rain.

“Theeeerreee,”

Type: “For the third time that’s a cact-You know what? We’re never playing Where’s Waldo? while you’re on shrooms again.”

she said, her purring voice sending shivers down my spine. “That's better...”

“You realize all that is going to be

        Type: “Cancelled once Amanda Bynes and Nick Cannon leave.”

        Atlas: “Disappointing once they kill off Derpy.”

mine by the end of the night, right?”

Type: Heh. But you’ll have to find it first. You see, I left everything I own in One Piece!

Atlas: I’m gonna be king of the pirates!

She giggled as she brought her hoof even lower, rubbing her immaculate and unsullied marehood lightly,

Type: Are we talking in terms of the Geiger reading or the number of STD strains that have yet to be discovered probably floating around there?

Atlas: An alien then bursts out of DT’s chest and starts doing the Funky Chicken.

Type: “Hello my honey, hello my darlin’, hello my rag-time gal!”

causing me to simply stare at her, everything but my own lust forgotten.

Type: Perhaps hoping that “how to breath” was one of those things is too much to ask for.

She deigned to touch herself for my pleasure for a few seconds longer, 

        Type: DT sure has hit rock bottom since she made The Parent Trap.

        Atlas: Right in the childhood!

before jutting her hoof out towards me. It was a thin coating of her own arousal on it now – evidence of her own excitement.

        Atlas: I regret this ever happening!

“Well? 35 bits,” she smirked.

        Type: What?! C’mon, you can get the same experience for free on a webcam site.

        Atlas: I want to go to my happy place.

Diamond Tiara was back to a sprawling, lazy posture on the floor,

        Atlas: “Paint me like one of your French-” *slap*

bored as she paged through her magazine. This time, however, there was an ever-growing pile of bits next to her,

Type: Don’t worry, I snuck a few gold-covered chocolates in there, too. She’s allergic to hazelnuts, right?

Atlas: I heard that Nutella is delicious. It would be a shame if you were allergic to it. Hisssssss.

and I huddled behind her, one of her slender, perfect hindlegs

        Atlas: DT is really Slendermare in disguise. This explains nothing.

        Type: Somewhere, PewDie is screaming at something.

in my hand and the other furiously massaging my aching erection through my jeans.

Type: He was too focused to notice that her hoof tore through the flesh and muscle and was grinding against the pelvic bone. Enjoy that image.

Atlas: Still more arousing than this fic. *eyes glow a bright shade of green*

My tongue ran all over her hoof

        Type: And after reading that I ran, I ran so far away!

        Atlas: ♫And I ran, I ran all night and day!♫

– this was the last of them that I had bought the honor of touching with my mouth.

Type: And her earlier romp through Poison Joke is going to make this fic actually entertaining.

Atlas: But does that make it less depraved?

With increasing daring,

        Type: You leave Ms. Do out of this!

I directed my oral attentions higher and higher up her leg,

        Type: OC sure can deepthroat a leg like a champ.

Atlas: Maybe if we’re lucky, he’ll choke on it. I imagine a very awkward funeral, which means a funeral that I’ll actually go to.

Type: I’ll go if that means I get to throw rice at people.

taking in all the tastes and scents. I could taste the expensive, imported perfume –

Type: You mean the “eau de toilette”? That’s not perfume, she just didn’t wash her hooves...the bastard would enjoy that, wouldn’t he...?

Atlas: Would you punch the screen if I said “yes”?

probably bought with my money –

Type: This fic is actually a metaphor for the Great Recession: Money is given to OC by Filthy Rich that would have gone to Diamond Tiara if it weren’t spent on the babysitter. The OC spends that money from Filthy Rich on Diamond Tiara for pointless shit that doesn’t have any real value and the Republicans still end up with a majority in the House!

Atlas: You just gave this fanfic some kind of meaning. Bad Type! Bad!

and reveled in the shampoo she used to make her coat shimmer

        Type: It’s the best pubic lice insecticide in Equestria.

        Atlas: I always found that Nirvana album to be overrated.

as I inhaled deep. Ah – and there! Right there, faint, almost undetectable...but there none the less. T

        Type: …-een Spirit?

        Atlas: -esticular cancer? I hope this guy gets it.

he unmistakable damp, musty and addicting ambrosial aroma of an aroused filly in heat.

Type: I’ve counted three things wrong with that sentence: one of them because of biology fail and two because no.

Atlas: This sentence is like something out of Living the Dream. Everything is wrong and nothing is right with it.

I whimpered and almost came in my pants when

        Atlas: “The Fire Nation attacked!”

        Type: “When a breeze rolled in.”

the odor hit me,

        Type: Unfortunately it wasn’t lethal.

        Atlas: And it didn’t turn his pubic hair into giant tentacles.

but I retrained myself,

        Type: Yes. Not a lobotomy at all. “Retraining.”

at least in that regard. However, I was incensed

        Type: “That the other kings brought gold and myrrh.”

to get an ever greater reaction out of her,

        Type: That’d be great if there was any reaction in the first place.

        Atlas: Where’s Tyler Durden? It seems like this guy is making half the shit up.

and I nibbled on her leg with even greater force.

        Type: So you’ve seen “Seven Years in Tibet” as well?

Her tail – her beautiful, perfectly com

Type: “I’mma let you finish but Holo has one of the best tails of all time...one of the best tails of all time.”

Atlas: In the history of 4chan!

bed and kept tail – flicked out of the way for a

        Type: Superior tail. Look at it and pray for forgiveness!

        Atlas: Is it weird that I’m turned on by this? Also, yay for Spice and Wolf!

split second, so quick if I blinked I would have nearly missed it.

        Atlas: Oh great, now we’re in SCP Containment Breach. Ahhhh!!

The thin slit that comprised her marehood was revealed for a brief, indescribable moment.

        Type: Then his parents’ child block settings kicked in.

A thin stream of liquid was leaking from it,

Type: No matter how much money you drop today’s current generation of sex-bots for the rich pathetic loser (S-BFTRPL) will have their problems.

Atlas: “Why do I keep seeing sheep in my dreams?”

pooling on the floor beneath her.

Type: [spoiler]: In four pages the human slips on that pool and cracks his head open.

Atlas: I wish that was a real spoiler, but we’re not that lucky.

And, a moment before her tail flicked back into place to cover her indecency,

        Type: That’s talent to cover your whole body, little filly.

she winked,

        Type: WITH HER EYE!

        Atlas: Instead of her snatch, which is for later if I’m correct.

giving me a full view of the perfect blistering pink tunnel

        Type: Whoops, flare up! Better get the Valtrex.

 I wanted nothing more than to fill and coat with my cum again and again.

        Type: Uh, what was that you just said? Come again?

        Atlas: In the quiet words of the Virgin Mary?

I moaned desperately

        Type: So you know, the usual.

        Atlas: “Ugh. Work is so boring!”

and loudly into her furred leg,

        Type: There must be a full moon tonight.

        Atlas: ♫I see a bad moon risin’.♫

eliciting a quick, condescending giggle from her.

        Type: No that’s just from us reading this fic.

        Atlas: *gigglesnort*

She had a remarkable stoicism to being aroused that I simply couldn't match.

        Type: Or you’re just that bad.

        Atlas: He’s a robot that doesn’t know how to pleasure a mare.

I wondered if it was me

        Type: Don’t think that...because it’s true.

causing this effect on her, or, more likely, if the pile of golden coins she had laying at her side that she was intoxicated by.

        Type: And being that they were made in China they promptly exploded.

Atlas: She’s drunk on coins. Does that mean that she drinks them and might choke? If so, then huzzah!

She leaned over occasionally and nuzzled or sifted through the money,

        Type: Her Uncle Scrooge taught her well.

making me think that the gold was her ideal lover –

        Type: “Which is why I decided to give myself a goldmember!”

        Atlas: “How about nooo, ya crazy Dutch bastard.”

a worthy surrogate for the pathetic, grasping human currently getting off on tonguing her legs.

        Atlas: Stop trying to remind us of that!

Too cowardly and broken to sweep the her

        Atlas: Der-hurrrr!

 in my arms and make her mine right in the middle of the floor, she had dismissed me as a nonentity

        Type: Not even 3/5ths a pony? Geez.

        Atlas: He’s not worth 1/10th of a zebra, or even the average bear.

– only the recompense I supplied mattered.

Lust and desire had occupied all higher brain functions at this point,

        Type: Unfortunately Minesweeper had to be deleted to make enough room.

        Atlas: His brain was empty to begin with. Nothing of value was lost.

and the only thing I could say where primal phrases and clumsy admissions of my desires.

        Atlas: 90% of all clop in a nutshell.

“God, I wanna fuck you so bad, Diamond,”

        Atlas: “I wanna wear women’s clothing and hang around in bars!”

                “What?”

 I pleaded into her leg, out of my mind.

        Atlas: You’ve got to get mad!

She turned her head around to look at me. “Oh?” she asked coyly.

        Atlas: “Anything you can do, I can do better!”

I nodded, managing to detach my mouth from her hoof for only a split.

        Type: It’s easy with testicles as small as his.

        Atlas: I almost read that as “tentacles”. O_O

“Yeah,” I gasped, “want to rut you so hard.”

        Atlas: -_-*

“Well, then I guess you can,” she said, looking smug and satisfied.

        Type: Because reasons?

        Atlas: Because penis.

My eyes widened in amazement, her words managing to halt my animalistic digression into near non-sapient lust. Did she just say...? I could?

        Atlas: You could start by painting the bedrooms. All seven of them.

        Type: Don’t mind the machines in Doc’s room. He has... “hobbies.”

My hands immediately jerked to my belt,

        Type: That anti-Shark spray serves no purpose in this situation.

hurriedly unhooking it in an effect to free the erection that had been twitching and leaking

        Atlas: You should get that checked, dude. I don’t think it’s supposed to leak . . .

        Type: Pass by Pete’s Butcher Shop. He’ll deal with it just fine.

 ever since I had laid my hands on the

        Type: Ironic Wish Granting Monkey’s Paw

little filly in front of me. I finally had her permission to fuck her,

        Atlas: At least he’s being honest.

        Type: It’s just what the prosecutor needs.

the only thing I've ever wanted in life.

        Atlas: You make Coal Buck look like Howard Hughes by comparison.

“...for a million bits!” she concluded mockingly,

        Type: Uh, DT, your dad’s company probably makes 10 million bits a year. Come on.

 smiling the most malicious smile I had ever seen conjured on a pony.

        Atlas: >:)

I stopped my frenzied fumbling to remove my pants

        Type: Good, no one should see your skimpy thong.

and simply stared at her in shock and disbelief.

        Type: Then Filthy Rich entered the room, having forgotten his hat.

I wasn't sure why her little game surprised me this time,

        Type: This is worse than the ET game for the Atari 2600.

she pulled something like this every single time I had been here with her.

        Atlas: You’re so dumb you can’t even open doors.

        Type: How is this dude not a ward of the state by now?

However, not even this could halt me,

Type: Atta, boy. Don’t let rock bottom stop you, keep digging until you’re swimming in magma!

as I picked up began making out with her hoof once again.

        Atlas: Okay fine, get back to your hoof licking, ya rodent.

        Type: I bet she lines her hoof polish with cocaine, or something.

“Of course, there's no way you'll ever save up that much money.

        Type: So I’m guessing an IOU won’t suffice?

Not whenever you're spending all your bits every single week to lick my hooves, haha...”

        Type: This has to be why Fear Factor was cancelled. It’s gotta be.

she concluded as I engrossed myself in doing just that.

        Atlas: *facedesk*

        Type: *faceceiling*

“Hey!” she shouted a few seconds later, sounding annoyed. My gaze was torn from her rump and to her eyes.

        Type: Then back to her rump.

 I saw her looking at my tented erection

Atlas: Did the erection decide to go camping? Please let there be grizzly bears in the woods.

 and my hand vigorously rubbing it through my pants.

        Type: As a result of the high tense friction his crotch caught on fire.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?

        Type: Well to be fair you never said he couldn’t.

Ooooh, you're going to pay for that.”

Atlas: Why? Has it ever occured to you that he could just continue to jerk off if he so well pleases?

Type: DT: “1000 years dungeon!”

 She jerked her hoof out of my grip and stood back up.

        Type: Then slipped and fell from the pool of saliva.

At this point, all four of her legs were soaked; her coat damp and dripping with my saliva.

        Type: There’s a price to being a psychic.

It took all the willpower I had not to

        Type: Stop writing this fic and delete the file immediately.

lunge forward and grab her rump,

Type: That’d probably end with your body dumped...in a landfill outside of Ponyville.

to pull her close and rut her right now.

        Atlas: *steam blows out of his ears*

Type: If you manage to do it with your pants on I’d gladly concede and let you go ahead.

My chest heaved and down; annoyed as I was by her sudden interruption,

Type: as per the semi colon these are apparently two different thoughts. His cognitive dissonance is in fact a proven fundamental part of him.

the only thing that flooded my mind now was

        Type: LCL

        Atlas: FLCL

images of the little filly orgasming

        Atlas: That’s not even a word!

Type: And even if it was, ewwww.

 and writhing under me as she screamed my name.

Type: Don’t forget to provide your address and credit card number for all of us to see.

That fantasy

        Atlas: I’d rather read the Silmarillion backwards than this shit.

        Type: of the Washington Generals winning will never be

didn't match the real, calm Diamond as she wandered over to her couch in an annoyed trot,

Type: Her scrunchy and seven bangles bouncing about as she headed to third period to complain to her boyfriend, the captain of the football team.

 leaving little puddles of my saliva with each step.

        Atlas: Ewwwww.

Type: That would literally require buckets of saliva and the complete upturning of evaporation. Let science prevail over this cruddy story!!

The clock in the room chimed,

        Type: Which was odd given that it was a digital clock.

ringing several times as Diamond rubbed her legs clean on the furniture.

Type: The linoleum plastic squeaked so loud the neighborhood dogs howled in pain.

“Geeeez...” she complained, “you just spent the past hour licking my legs...how pathetic.”

        Atlas: Spread the word, sister!

        Type: If the word is “legs” then keep it closed.

I nodded swiftly in agreement,

        Type: It only caused 60 points in damage, but whatever.

reaching for my back of coins

        Type: Seems the guys are big on tipping you after they’re done, huh?

to buy another session between myself and her delicious hooves.

        Atlas: *laughs maniacally*

        Type: ♪“What is love? Baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me...no more...”♪

“No...” she declined half-interestedly when she noticed. “I'm gonna need a bath now.

        Type: You mean a second bath? Because...his tongue, and...yeah...

Disgusting. Go run my water.”

        Atlas: “Hulk uses girly shampoo. Smells like strawberries.”

The bathroom was soon hot and humid as I lifted Diamond up gently and lowered her into the bathwater tempered just right for her.

        Type: Wow, sudden timeskip, much?

It was hard to breathe

        Atlas: “The Anon soon suffocates on his own perversion.”

– the heady and intoxicating infusion of fragrance oils into the air was nearly overwhelming.

        Atlas: *sighs in relief* At least it wasn’t something else.

        Type: Sorry, I fah-ted.

Diamond didn't seem bothered. She pranced and splashed in the tub,

        Type: Who wants toast? *tosses plugged-in toaster*

displaying an incongruous innocence as I stared at her, panting.

        Type: Hey aqualung.

My erection hadn't subsided

Atlas: It was being insubordinate and so we had to put it down. *sniff* Just like ole Yeller.

Type: I’m not crying, though.

– if anything, I was harder and more desperate for release as I stared at the most beautiful filly in the world,

Atlas: Arghhhhhhhhhhhh!

Type: Gawsh, and I hardly know you!

her mane now wet and rolling down her body,

Type: The radioactive water soon left the girl completely bal-...dammit he’d find this hot too, wouldn’t he?!

and her tail now sopping and clinging to her body,

        Type: It becomes quite adhesive when wet.

giving me a perfectly clear view of her untouched, pencil-thin slit

        Atlas: I don’t give a flying fuck if it’s consensual or not. She’s a kid!

Type: Bullshit she’s untouched. An African with AIDS wouldn’t try their luck using her.

that was only a few hues of pink lighter than the rest of her body.

        Type: Darn, I just checked the paint color scale and he’s right.

I stood up and began to take off my shirt.

        Atlas: Oh no . . .

        Type: His XXXL shirt that said “I’m training to be an MMA Fighter”

“What are you doing?”

        Atlas: Anon, waht r u doin? Anon, stahp.

Diamond was immediately curious what had taken my attention away from her.

        Type: “Is that a shiny thing? I wanna see the shiny thing!”

“Too hot...” I gasped in way of explanation,

        Type: Taking off a shirt sure is hard work that it’s exhausting.

tossing my soaked shirt to the side.

        Type: It managed to drape the whole floor upon landing.

The pants were next – off they went.

        Atlas: He’s gonna do the thing, isn’t he?

        Type: You mean the thing in the place?

Now, standing there in just in the underwear clinging to my body,

        Type: Nevermind the underwear that isn’t, boy, that’s too explicit to mention.

my hard-on was finally free and it bobbed up and down.

        Atlas: “You spin me- ARGHHHHH! That was my dick!”

        Type: He’s such a yes-man that his dangle is stuck doing the motions.

A small wet spot could be seen near the tip, evidence of how much pre-cum I had leaked earlier nearly rubbing myself to orgasm through my pants again and again.

        Atlas: How does the author even . . . ya know what? Fuck it. Fuck it all.

        Type: I think that’s what he intends to do, dude.

        Atlas: Actually, it’s more like a “she”, Type.

        Type: ...wut

Atlas: The author . . . is a female.

        Type: wat

        Atlas: Yes.

        Type: …*stands up and quietly walks out of the room*

        Atlas: Type! Get the fuck back here this instant!

Diamond stared at me for a few seconds, the look on her face indicating that she was going to challenge my actions, but then simply shrugged and went back to giggling and playing in the tub.

        Atlas: She’s plotting your demise, but just ignore it for the sake of everyone else.

I sat back down and was content to stare at the soaking-wet, slippery filly prance around the tub, knowing full well how much it would cost me if I were to take out my cock and jerk it

        Atlas: ♫Jerk it like it’s hawt. Jerk it like it’s hawt.♫

without her permission. If I gave in to the nearly irresistible temptation, I know that nothing could recall me at that point – my cum would be splattering against the side of the tub as I moaned Diamond's name.

Atlas: Shouldn’t this guy have like . . . adult mares going after him or something? I don’t know, cuz we never get a physical description of the bastard.

“You know,” Diamond said after a minute. “It's only proper for a babysitter to help wash the person he's taking care of, isn't it? My dad has to be paying you for something, after all...”

        Atlas: We forgot. Thanks for reminding us. Hate.

Type: *Quietly walks back in and sits down* ...my weeaboo senses alerted me to a tsundere.

With obedience substantiated by desire,

        Type: With a healthy dressing of stupid on top of that.

I agreed wholeheartedly. Soon, a soapy washcloth was in my in hand

        Type: Yes, but soapy with what?

and rubbing up and down Diamond Tiara, while my other hand gripped the side of the tub in an attempt to occupy it from other more carnal activities.

        Atlas: Oh god, it’s Apples at Sunset all over again! Ahhhhh!!

Type: Don’t forget to rub your tits all over, the guys love to see that shit in washing scenes.

The pony began to mewl and coo as I rubbed up and down her body, my hands shaking with excitement and my hard-on throbbing every time I squeezed her body or ran my hand down her flank.

Atlas: Where the fuck’s my machete? This guy needs to get a little taste of sharp metal!

Type: You can have this banana! It’s only half eaten.

The scents and sound infected my mind and

Type: Now only the worse disease will survive. But whichever wins, we lose.

Atlas: I vote for Small Pox.

- Diamond swaying lightly,

        Type: Practicing her drunken fist, I see.

her eyes closed as I lathered her body with expensive soaps

        Type: “6.99 for a package? Getouttahere!”

- my hand drifted to her rump,

        Type: Brushing against her balls.

        Atlas: Thank you for planting that image in my head. *punches Type in the face*

and gave it a rough squeeze.

        Atlas: She’s a little filly! She doesn’t even have a- What am I doing here?

Diamond's eyes shot open and she turned around to look at me. She was annoyed – the glare she was shooting at me made that obvious.

        Atlas: “Your dick is talking again.”

        Type: Then again it’s a much more eloquent speaker.

However, I wanted her so bad that barring an immediate order to stop I continued massaging her plump butt.

Atlas: She’s not Cheerilee, dude. She doesn’t even have a plump- *a safe lands on Atlas’ head*- rump. Ow.

It had just the right amount of give,

        Type: I can sense that the meter is running at triple digits now.

my soapy fingers sinking into her slightly as I squeezed.

        Atlas: Quicksand!

I had to bit my lip

        Type: But since you’re a hemophiliac you died and color the water red.

just to stifle a moan as I bunched up her tail and lifted it out of the way to give me better access to her hindquarters.

        Type: Then it floated back to block you because you’re a dumbass.

Both of my hands were now massaging Diamond Tiara's rump.

        Atlas: He has hands, therefore he is . . . still an unbelievable bastard.

Type: I read that as “massaging Donald’s Trump.” Did anyone else read it as “massaging Donald’s Trump”?

Atlas: I read that three times and I read it as “massaging Donald Duck’s rump”.

I spun her around

Type: “We didn’t start the fire, it was always burning since the pony’s been turning.”

to place the object of my attentions closer to me,

        Type: Suddenly I wonder if she’s been wearing her tiara this entire time.

and I stared in awe she allowed me to run my greedy, horny grip all over any part of her body I wanted.

        Atlas: Horny grip? *grows claws like Wolverine*

“God damn...”

        Type: “It wasn't Stewie who was laughing at me, it was God!”

I was compelled to utter as I squeezed and caressed her, worshiping her rump.

        Atlas: . . . Why?

Type: Because the brother be puttin’ that pony on a pedestal. He’s building that pony up!

She hadn't stopped looking at me,

        Type: No, Diamond Tiara just died of literal shame about 3 minutes ago.

but now her annoyance was tinted with a vague amusement.

        Type: As in no clue how to rationally explain it.

I wanted nothing more than rip of my underwear

Atlas: I love it when authors that get featured twice make grammar errors like that. It makes me feel taller.

Type: At this point I alone probably made you about Kareem Abdul Jabbar height.

and fuck this little evil sexy filly while she was sopping wet.

        Atlas: If this isn’t true love then may- *a 16 ton weight lands on Type* Ha!

        Type: *red puddle spreads out on floor*

“Fuck...so hot...” I murmured.

        Atlas: Because that’s how guys talk. Right?!

“Oooh, what a smooth-talker.” Diamond said sarcastically. “Do you talk to all the little kids like this, or is just me that gets you so hot and bothered you can't even think straight?”

        Atlas: Isn’t Diamond supposed to be, like, 8 years old or something?

        (Ghost) Type: Yeah, but that shit’s hilarious.

I grunted in response.

It was only whenever I took it a step too far

        (Ghost) Type: Son you’ve run a whole marathon distance off course by this point.

– my thumb running up and down the length of her slit, feeling its improbable heat

        (Ghost) Type: I’d reckon it’s proven itself after 8 days and nights.

        Atlas: I can make a boat out of a turtle in 8 days and nights.

even in the already stifling bathroom – did she tear her rump

        Atlas: That sounds really painful.

away from me.

        (Ghost) Type: And to a child services hotline.

“That's enough.” she said forcefully, smacking me in the face with her wet tail.

        Atlas: C’mon, Diamond, you can do better than that!

        (Ghost) Type: She forgot to put the blade on the end again.

“Geez, a little filly just wants you to give her a bath and the only thing you can do is feel her up and think about rutting her.

(Ghost) Type: Gee, I wonder how he ended up getting into that thought process, hmm?

Atlas: Free muffins?

You really are just a stupid horny animal, aren't you?”

        Atlas: Because that’s how a little kid talks. Right?!

She leapt out of the tub

        (Ghost) Type: Free Tiara!

and onto the floor, nonplussed by my whimpers and agreements. The sudsy mixture she was still partially coated in leaked onto the floor as she reached for a towel.

        (Ghost) Type: Don’t worry there’s less bubbles in the DVD/BD version

“Please, Diamond,” I begged as she began to towel herself off.

        Atlas: “Kill me.”

                “Later.”

“Hrm?” she turned towards me as if she had just noticed a spot of dirt on her floor. “Please? Please what?”

        (Ghost) Type: Please shove his head under water and end his suffering.

        Atlas: Which will in turn end our suffering.

“Please...let me cum...”

        (Ghost) Type: By drowning him.

I said, surprised at my ability to articulate in the state I was in.

        (Ghost) Type: Meanwhile he actually said “I...cum ponies do!”

“I need it so bad...just let me touch myself...”

Atlas: For all that is decent, man, just think about something unsexy! Ya know, like your mum.

(Ghost) Type: He’s paid a bag full of golden coins to suck on a pony’s hoof, what good will that do?

She laughed.

        (Ghost)Type: I cried.

        Atlas: *summons trash can* I barfed.

“Ah, does the stupid mutt want to shoot off already?

        (Ghost) Type: He’s got three syringes of the stuff in his bag. I know, I saw it.

Was giving an innocent adorable filly a bath too much for him?

        (Ghost) Type: Being 50 ft of a school yard is too much for him.

Now he has to jerk his cock to the thought of her?”

        Atlas: . . . I’m starting to wonder if the author hates men, or something.

(Ghost) Type: In this dark corner of creepy dudes that actively read stories like this within a fandom that watches colorful ponies learning to befriend others, what do you think?

She didn't need to hear my desperate, pleading affirmatives that yes, that was exactly what he had to do to know.

        (Ghost) Type: I didn’t have to read past the first paragraph to figure that out.

“Well, it'll cost you...lots.”

        Atlas: “Then pay with your blood!”

I slipped out of my underwear to show my willingness

        (Ghost) Type: and shamelessness

to pay whatever price necessary to get off.

Atlas: Meh, I’ve seen naked guys before. This doesn’t even irk me. Do your worst! I dare ya, motherfucker!

(Ghost) Type: It’s time for “naked guys jumping on trampolines!”

Atlas: *screams bloody murder*

“However...” she said, emerging from underneath her towel as she dried her hair,

        (Ghost) Type: Seriously is that with the tiara on, or...?

while my hand flew with instinctual desire to the base of my cock.

        (Ghost) Type: He only needs to pinch it with his thumb and index finger.

        Atlas: His hand has wings now.

“If you can last five more minutes, you can do it for free...”

        Atlas: That’s it? That’s not even a challenge!

(Ghost) Type: Don’t say that before the large sweaty guys that work for Filthy Rich’s bargain store walk in.

I tried to wrap my head around this as my fingers wrapped around my needy erection.

        (Ghost) Type: Ugh and it always wants to yap on and on about its day.

I wasn't concerned about the price,

        (Ghost) Type: Who needs an appendix, anyways?

but more money meant more play time later.

        Atlas: But I want this to be over now.

Besides, I had lasted the greater part of two hours

        (Ghost) Type: And here I thought it’s been a couple of weeks.

Atlas: We’ve been trapped in this room for days, surviving off of pizza and ramen noodles. Well, I get to eat all the food now.

(Ghost) Type: It’s not like I need to eat.

...surely another 5 minutes would be within reach. Yeah,

        (Ghost) Type: And so’s this knife.

I decided as my hand, almost with subconscious need, began to slowly stroke up and down: Five more minutes.

        (Ghost) Type: Until the terrorists win.

Atlas: She said to not-! Okay fine, doom yourself.

There was, unfortunately, one thing I hadn't figured into my internal evaluation of my own self-control:

        (Ghost) Type: Its non-existence?

Diamond Tiara, really, really likes money.

        Atlas: What does she even do with money? She’s a little kid! *facepalm*

After a half a minute of slow, restrained stroking, she started her game.

        (Ghost) Type: The gameboy promptly went kaput in the water.

“I can't believe it,” she griped, as she shook her rump a foot

        Atlas: -for five dollars.

        (Ghost) Type: Dolla dolla make you holla!

from my face under the context of drying it off. “I can't believe you're thinking about having sex with a little kid like me.

        Atlas: Then why are you provoking him?

        (Ghost) Type: Because all the girls secretly want the pathetic loser, doy!

That's all you can think about anymore, isn't it?

        (Ghost) Type: That and pretzels. Def-definitely pretzels.

I bet you go home and jerk off thinking about me sitting on your face, lowering my dripping slit onto your mouth...”

        Atlas: Totally not OOC for Diamond to say that. Nope!

        (Ghost) Type: *sigh* It begins.

As if her point needed any more emphasize, she swished her tail out of the way and gave me a full view.

        Atlas: Not even Spitfire can save my libido from being 100% dead. *sob*

        (Ghost) Type: Then like a skunk she sprayed him to make her escape.

        Atlas: Sprayed with what, nobody wants to know.

“Or do you touch yourself wishing I was there doing it for you? Is that what you want? Do you want these dainty little hooves that you love so much to grab your cock and jerk it until

        (Ghost) Type: The skin is peeled off since hooves are a pony’s nails.

you splatter all over my face and drip your seed all down my legs.”

(Ghost) Type: There’s something odd with her dialogue, though I can’t put my finger on it...hmmm...

        Atlas: I wonder if even Regidar would be turned on by this. *shrug* Probably.

She laughed mockingly.

        (Ghost) Type: “Hahaha. Ha haha-haha. Hahaha. Ha haha-haha.”

Atlas: “Chewchewchew. Chew chewchew-chewchew. Chewchewchew. Chew chewchew-chewchew.”

“My, that'd take forever to get out of my coat.

        (Ghost) Type: I guess 30 mins of scrubbing with steel wool would seem that way.

Do you really think I'd ever let you do something like that?”

        (Ghost) Type: Yes.

She dropped her towel – her fur and coat still a disheveled mess.

        Atlas: The Anon’s brain is a disheveled mess.

        (Ghost) Type:

With fierce determination tempered by a characteristic grace,

(Ghost) Type: The Mayans turned out to be correct and everything was vaporized!

        Atlas: “There was supposed to be a kaboom! Why is there no kaboom?”

Diamond marched towards me.

(Ghost) Type: However she stepped out with her right hoof first and was quickly thrown into the brig.

She walked between my sprawled legs,

        (Ghost) Type: And with her tiara on her head, she jumped up.

        Atas: AHHHHH!! Sorry, phantom pain.

now just inches from where my hand was moving slowly up and down.

Atlas: *looks up a penis anatomy chart* Uhhh . . . author? What the hell have you done?!

She ran her hoof along the inside of my thigh, infuriatingly inching closer and closer to my cock before backing away and running back down.

Atlas: I feel like I’m watching a game of football, in that I don’t know what the hell’s going on.

(Ghost) Type: All you have to know is that a prepubescent filly is about to get “sacked.”

I couldn't decide whether I wanted to plead her to stop, or pray that she continue,

        (Ghost) Type: I doubt anyone would listen to your prayers. Though Tirek might.

so I uttered the only coherent and cyclic thought I'd managed all night. “Fuck...”

Atlas: Well, he’s Lyra from Miss Me?. He’s the same fucking character. There’s no doubt about it now.

(Ghost) Type: Along with gratuitous language I’ll have to rate this fic “R” for “redundant.”

“Oh, that's it, isn't it? You just want to fuck me like I'm a pony in heat, don't you?

        Atlas: Oh great. Estrus. Kill me now.

        NaturalGlitch: *From 50 miles away* FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFU-

Yeah, I'm sure that's what you're thinking about right now. Just pushing my face into the mud and taking me like a stallion would.

(Ghost) Type: Whatever you father told you about love, DT, ignore it. He’s obviously got issues.

I can't believe you're thinking about cumming inside me right now.

        (Ghost) Type: I can’t believe I just read that in her voice.

        Atlas: I read that in Sean Connery’s voice.

You want to fuck me and fill me up with your cum until I'm leaking. You know I'm just a filly, right? You want to knock up a filly. That's, like, so disgusting. You really are a pervert.”

        Atlas: . . . *curls up into a ball and cries*

        (Ghost) Type: She’s got to be reading this from a script or something.

I was enraptured.

        (Ghost) Type: Since you’ll never be Raptured, that’ll have to do.

Atlas: I would definitely like to have a Big Daddy beat the shit out of this guy, though.

My hand disobeyed the increasingly futile orders from my mind

        (Ghost) Type: And killed itself.

to stay calm and ignore the beautiful pony spilling out my fantasies in right front of me.

        Atlas: I will fucking end you, you stupid waste of oxygen!

        (Ghost) Type: I don’t need oxygen since I’m a Ghost.

My mind,

        (Ghost) Type: As broken as its synapses are.

however, was soon captured in the same trance,

        (Ghost) Type: That’s it. Walk into the bug zapper. It’s warm and inviting.

seeing the only acceptable think to do was to cum for this pony.

        (Ghost) Type: Better down the drain than dividing into a zygote.

I was stroking my cock harder and harder. The euphoria

        Atlas: The author would like to thank Liquid Rainbows for using that word.

of orgasm began to flick around the borders of my consciousness, sending a shiver throughout my body.

        (Ghost) Type: That’s just the pneumonia.

The faint and final warning to slow down to ebb the oncoming climax went completely ignored.

        Atlas: And so the train kept on choo-choo-ing to Dick Butt Town.

        (Ghost) Type: One way tickets forever.

Diamond was absolutely delighted when she saw the pace of my masturbation pick up and smiled wide, knowing she had won.

Atlas: You’re such an idiot that your mother drank gasoline and played chess with a grasshopper (and lost) while you were in utero.

(Ghost) Type: What? And um...you’re also a...stink butt! Yeah.

“Actually, I think my mouth would be good enough for you.

        (Ghost) Type: If it’ll get you to shut the fuck up, sure.

Don't you think?

        (Ghost) Type: He doesn’t do that.

Wouldn't it be nice to just fuck my mouth and shove your cock in my throat? To hear me gag and whimper and moan around your pathetic dick

        Atlas: *gigglesnort* Okay, that was brutally awesome. For a split second.

 as you splatter a load against the back of my throat? You'd probably be spurting in a heartbeat if I started licking you.”

        (Ghost) Type: “MAKE IT STOP!!”

She leaned in closer and closer with each word.

        Atlas: “Can I get. Any closer. To the screen. Than this?”

Now, she was just a fraction of an inch away from my cock.

        (Ghost) Type: Which was only a fraction of an inch long. HI-OH! Ghost high five!

I could feel her warm breath each time she exhaled,

        (((Ghost))) Type: And smell the double baconwich she had for lunch.

teasing me with just how hot her mouth would be.

Atlas: She doesn’t have bad breath when she wakes up in the morning. She breathes fire!

(Ghost) Type: I guess herpes is a kind of fire.

“Fuck, Diamond

(Ghost) Type: You mean the cousin of the Hope Diamond kept in Jay Leno’s house?

...I'm close.” I managed to communicate through my panting.

“Already?” She snorted in derision. “You must reeeeaaallllyy want me bad, huh?

        Atlas: That might be an understatement.

(Ghost) Type: Somewhere around “This guy’s a loser” and “why the fuck did I read this far into this story?”

Well, go ahead, you fucking pervert. Cum all over me.

        (Ghost) Type: That’ll make DT’s third bath for this fic, huh.

Make sure you get some in my mouth.

        (Ghost) Type: She needs to get that awful Arby’s taste out.

I want my tongue coated in your spunk.” She stepped back and opened her mouth wide, sticking her tongue out.

        Atlas: At least now we’re not the only ones being mentally tortured.

I couldn't help myself.

(Ghost) Type: No, first you have to admit you have a problem that needs to be stopped.

Not needing any more encouragement, I whacked myself

        (Ghost) Type: Fin.

Atlas: *gets out a delicious cake* C’mon, Anon, ya know ya want a slice of this. *whispers to Type* I put a hammer in the cake.

off for those final few seconds before I reached the point of no return.

        Atlas: Space. The final frontier.

A jolt of pleasure shot through my body as I cried out an inarticulate moan,

        (Ghost) Type: “FELIZ NAVIDAD!”

        Atlas: I never liked that song. Always reminded me of spicy food.

body shuddering as my balls contracted.

        Atlas: I wouldn’t know if that’s what really happens when you . . . *zones out*

        (Ghost) Type: It became a Magical Girl, but at a price.

I looked on in lustful amazement as I spurted my load all over Diamond Tiara's face...

...or would have, had she still been standing there.

        Atlas: She’s thinking with portals.

She leapt away at the last second, leaving the thick strands of cum I was finally able to release to splatter all over the soapy bathroom tiles.

        (Ghost) Type: Aww, now that’s going to stain forever.

Diamond didn't even give me time to catch my breath. “Aww, three and half minutes,”

        Atlas: Muahahahahahahaha!

(Ghost) Type: Not even long enough to swing on a star

she informed me , looking at the small clock that hung on the wall. “Soooo close. I guess I'm just too much for you, huh?”

(Ghost) Type: I don’t even have to use my Ghost/psychic riffer powers to see he’ll suddenly be ready again.

She laughed that demeaning and impossibly arousing laugh of hers.

        Atlas: I don’t even know anymore. <_>

        (Ghost) Type: That bowl cut of hers is so mesmerizing when its wet.

Well, can't say I blame you but we had an agreement.

        (Ghost) Type: Worst oral contract ever.

That'll be a hundred bits.”

        Atlas: What would you even do with 100 bits? You’re a little- I’m going in circles.

        (Ghost) Type: “Buy some apples.”

The look on her face was both amused and disgusted as she stared derisively from my still twitching cock to the seed I sprayed all over her bathroom floor.

        (Ghost) Type: “Chi-chi-chi-Chia!”

I lay, panting, body still tinging in post-coital bliss.

        Atlas: Post-coital? Someone get me a fuckin’ dictionary!

        (Ghost) Type: Reminds me of my cocktail that was just a glass of water.

She gave her body

        (Ghost) Type: To science!

one final shake to clear all the water from it then threw all her hair from her vision with a flick of her head.

        (Ghost) Type: Throwing hair around sure is a lame psychic power.

“I'm hungry,” she complained, “Why haven't you made me dinner yet?

        Atlas: *deadpan* You just had a bath. He just finished giving you a bath. Bitch.

        (Ghost) Type: It’s right there on the floor. Full of protein and electrolytes.

You really should clean this mess up and get on that.” With that, the filly turned from the bathroom and , in a clearly satisfied trot, left me there. I was sweaty and naked and gasping for air

        (Ghost) Type: ...I bet you’re hungry too.

and tingling like I had just spent the last hour fucking some insatiable whore while a perfectly clean and unsullied filly I had just cum for harder than I've ever cum in my life marched from the room.

Atlas: This guy is worse than Flare Gun. I can’t believe I just said that but this looks to be the case.

(Ghost) Type: Stop referencing people I’ve never heard of.  It makes me sad that I don’t know them. I’m a Ghost.

Maybe that was an image needed some form of analysis later,

        ((Ghost)) Type: The NSA doing its job, folks.

but for now – my princess was hungry.

        Atlas: Sorry, dude, but it looks like your princess is in another universe.

Diamond was back to sitting on the floor, a new tabloid in front her.

        (Ghost) Type: Is there anything not about Kate retching all over the place?

I sat on the couch behind her, leg twitching as I mirrored her disinterested literary pursuits, leafing through one of Mr. Rich's quarterly business magazines.

        (Ghost) Type: Is there anything not about Trump shitting out of his mouth?

We had both eaten already; our dinner consisted of a collection of juicy fruits

(Ghost) Type: Those long hours walking to the grocery store and buying a handful of them from the impulse buy shelf. *sigh*

that Diamond was sure to eat as seductively as possible,

        (Ghost) Type: Right. Seductively.

while I stared at her with a look of blank and base lust.

        Atlas: You just came! You can’t be hard this soon!

        (Ghost) Type: Did you eat some perverted Devil Fruit or something?

Her homework was completed – by me, of course.

        Atlas: So. Much. Hate.

        (Ghost) Type: Looks like she’ll be held back another grade, this year.

We were both dressed now, her having put on an adorable pair of pajamas.

        (Ghost) Type: So you ate in the buff, or...?

The sun, on orders from Canterlot,

        (Ghost) Type: It is clearly subcontracted by princess Celestia on an annual basis.

was beginning to lower and I knew Mr. Rich would probably be home within the hour. My gaze was drawn repeated

        (Ghost) Type: So sue them for copying your work, gawsh.

to filly lazing on the floor as she shifted back and forth,

        (Ghost) Type: Between a gas and a solid form.

humming softly to herself.

If it wasn't for the growing erection in my pants,

        Atlas: Type! Gimme my nail gun! Give it here!

        (Ghost) Type: I can’t, I’m a Ghost!

        Atlas: Damn it all! *flips a table*

this would look like just a normal babysitting situation.

        (Ghost) Type: The cameras will be the judge of that.

        Atlas: We see everything.

Diamond's pile of coins she earned throughout the night had been stacked neatly beside her,

        (Ghost) Type: They were set up to spell out “Suck it biyotches”

but there were still a small amount left in my bag.

        (Ghost) Type: Seems like you forgot about DT’s “looking fee.”

I considered that maybe, this weekend, I'd actually go home with some money, but the hard-on that I was idly kneading through my jeans suggested otherwise.

Atlas: If you can go broke, eat shit, and die all at the same time, I’ll give you . . . absolutely nothing.

Diamond must have felt my eyes undressing her,

        Atlas: Use the force, Luke.

because she turned around and looked at me right as I was hefting the bag of bits to judge the contents.

        (Ghost) Type: 60 percent of her senses must be devoted to her hearing.

She smiled as she noticed me massaging my cock. “Still horny? All I'm doing is sitting here and you still can't stop thinking about me?

Atlas: Yes, Diamond, it is that bad, and it doesn’t get any better than this. *clanks two rocks together*

10 bits and I'll take off my bottoms.”

        (Ghost) Type: 11 bits for you not to.

This girl was determined to have my bag of coins as empty as my balls by the end of the night.

        Atlas: I think she just wants your money, dude.

(Ghost) Type: Until your dick spurts gold coins she’s never going to care about you.

10 golden bits soon piled onto the floor in front of Diamond Tiara.

(Ghost) Type: You could’ve fed fifteen orphan ponies, man. Fifteen! No touching, though.

Joining them on the floor was Diamond's pajama bottoms, pooling around her hind hooves as she arched her back and stuck her rump straight in the air. I fished my dick out of my jeans and began slowly stroking myself to the little pony's show.

Atlas: Oh god this is like one of those bad office pornos oh no! *head explodes*

“You know, you're sooooo lucky a pretty girl like me lets you jack off to her.”

(Ghost) Type: This could’ve happened from the get go. Without all that fingle fangling in the bathroom.

        Atlas: This whole fic wouldn’t have happened and nothing would’ve been lost.

        (Ghost) Type: Well I wouldn’t be a Ghost, for one thing.

        Atlas: Shut the fuck up, Donny.

Diamond said, her nose still in her magazine as her rump swayed back and forth. “Normal guys would go after a girl their age or, uh, species,

(Ghost) Type: Why couldn’t we have read about one of those cooler foalcons, at least...

but you're so perverted that you have to milk your cock to an adorable little filly showing you her rump.

        Atlas: Guys in general would just watch porn, but nope!

        (Ghost) Type: For some guys this is that porn.

        Atlas: *breathes fire*

I bet if I let you fuck me right now you wouldn't even be able to stop if my dad walked him.

        (Ghost) Type: Few know that Filthy Rich is a world-class dipshit breeder.

I wonder what he'd think about his trusted babysitter jacking off to his daughter on his couch.”

        Atlas: Self awareness will not save your scrotum from a whack of my machete.

Diamond Tiara was obviously enjoying this almost as much as I was.

        Atlas: Piss off!

In the torchlight that illuminated the room,

        (Ghost) Type: They’re either in the middle ages or under a blackout in England.

I could see a thin stream of lubrication beginning to leak from her slit.

        Atlas: wut.

        (Ghost) Type: Uh oh looks like it’s gone bad. Better throw ‘er into the garbage.

“Say, we already had dinner. What if I let you eat me out for dessert?”

(Ghost) Type: There are times that line would be considered incredibly sexy. This is one of those times that makes me want to kill myself. If I weren’t already dead.

Atlas: Lucky you. I can’t even die! *gets crushed by a falling elephant and regenerates* See? And I don’t even have a sonic screwdriver with me!

        (Ghost) Type: Well fuck all kinds of duck.

She winked at me.

        (Ghost) Type: I stabbed myself in the face. Nothing.

I stared at her, amazed. She's never let me do something like this before “It'll only cost you three hundr-”

        Atlas: “Come back when you’re mmmmm richer.”

In a flash, I was off the couch, magazine violently discarded.

(Ghost) Type: Its obituary reads: “Survived by a monthly subscription to Flanks and a free pamphlet to Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns.”

 I upended the leather bag in front of Diamond, causing a waterfall of gold coins to flow in front of the filly.

        (Ghost) Type: She drowned, not knowing how to swim in golden showers.

Her eyes widened and her smile grew as the growing cavalcade of coins knocked over her carefully stacked piles of bits and added them to the mess.

Atlas: Okay, I need to ask the author about this later. What does she do with all this money? Hell, what does she do with money? She’s a school filly, so 100 bits won’t be all that useful. I feel like logic is my only weapon to use at this point.

(Ghost) Type: My weapon of choice is Christopher Walken.

Soon, the entirety of my money was laying in front of her, and she stared at it, smile as wide as can be. She nuzzled and snuggled into the pile of coins as if it were the world's most comfortable pillow.

Atlas: Coins don’t sound very comfortable, but at least they don’t allow her to breathe underwater.

(Ghost) Type: Pillows help you breath underwater?

I, meanwhile, had my comforts.

        (Ghost) Type: Such as the hand that’s Gorilla Glued to your crotch.

I seized Diamond Tiara's satiny rump and lifted her hindlegs off the ground, burying my face in the area that had been the target of my desires and fantasies for weeks.

        Atlas: ♫I need a dirty woman.♫

                ♫I need a dirty girl.♫

I inhaled deep, taking in the aroma of a horny filly. It was sweet and spicy and intoxicating and perfect.

        (Ghost) Type: Because that’s how all the other clop fics describe it!

I couldn't help but have a taste. My tongue darted out and ran the length of her slit, lapping up the lubrication she was leaking.

        (Ghost) Type: Mmmm, WD40.

It tasted just as exquisite as it smelled, and soon I was devoted to the task like it was a necessity

        (Ghost) Type: The shakes were the worst in the morning.

– licking her pulsing, velvety marehood and sticking my tongue in as deep as I could in her improbably tight snatch.

        Atlas: I feel like I should be arrested for reading this.

(Ghost) Type: All I’m afraid of now are vacuum cleaners and orange-haired teenagers...or teenagers wearing green...

My dick throbbed beneath me,

        (Ghost) Type: It’s quite comfortable as footwear.

        Atlas: For my spiked boots!

but I had the much more important palate for my attention in front of me.

        (Ghost) Type: He feeds on attention spans. That explains...nothing.

“Mmm...” I heard her groan slightly into the pile of coins.

        (Ghost) Type: DT: “Mmmmm, aurum...”

Her haughty demeanor was cracking and falling in front of me within a minute of my tongue meeting her pussy. Obviously, I was doing a good job.

        Atlas: U R WINN4R! Here, have a chair and rope to celebrate your victory!

        (Ghost) Type: Can’t wait until kick off!

She was beginning to push herself upwards back into my face, eager to provide me with greater access. “Don't...ah...d-don't...” she gasped,

        (Ghost) Type: Gold x Diamond Tiara = OTP

        Atlas: We don’t ship here, son. *tries to punch Type but hits air instead*

stumbling for words as I withdrew from inside her and resumed licking her outer lips with slow, long strokes. Her legs were twitching uselessly in the air.

        Atlas: Like a turtle struggling to get off its back.

Whatever message she was trying to communicate was blundered and stopped, cracking into squeals and stammering unto a torrent of the new, pleasurable sensations I was forcing her to endure.

        (Ghost) Type: That pile of gold somehow knows all of her sensitive spots.

I considered, for a moment, stopping and allowing her to regain her composure, but then I realized – I paid for this.

        (Ghost) Type: Uh, no, you’re just gold’s wingman.

        Atlas: You can be my wingman any time.

 I was going to make this little filly cum if it was the last thing I did.

        Atlas: Let’s hope it is the last thing you ever do.

With this goal firmly in mind, I directed my care towards her tiny, unexposed clit.

(Ghost) Type: Just like the War on Drugs he’s going to disproportionately attack the hood.

Giving it a swift lick, which elicited a gasp from Diamond, I paused for a second before nibbling on it gently.

        Atlas: Wubba dub rub!

That drew a shriek. The proud and reserved pony was reduced to a mess as her hooves smacked the ground and she was forced to bit a lip

        Atlas: Ouch.

 to halt her own articulations of lust. Her face was buried in the pile of coins, in the futile hope that they would mask her scream. “N-not...not so rough...you animal!” she spat,

        (Ghost) Type: But in reality she was loving what gold was doing.

muffled, at me, angrier and more turned on than she'd ever been during our 'playtime'.

        Atlas: If this isn’t true love then may- *a bus lands on Fallen Prime* I win.

I couldn't help but wonder if, in her state,

        (Ghost) Type: Probably some hick town in Alaska.

        Atlas: Of which Sarah Palin is an almighty god.

she'd mind if I lowered her rump onto my prick.

        (Ghost) Type: She probably won’t even feel it.

With how wet she was, it'd probably slide right into despite how tight she was. The way the muscles of her walls contracted and squeezed my tongue promised that if I stuck my cock into her right now, her body would betray her and try to milk me for everything I had.

        Atlas: I feel like we’re taking the worst sex ed class in the history of everything.

        (Ghost) Type: Whoo public education!

However, the fact that the poor foal was still shivering and shoving her rump into my face forced me to put aside such selfish thoughts for another time.

        Atlas: Please let there not be another time.

I pressed my tongue hard against her clit once again, drawing another moan from the writhing Diamond. “Fuck...” she moaned, mirroring the verbal inarticulacy

        Atlas: Hehe, that’s a funny word ya got there. :P

she forced on me earlier.

        (Ghost) Type: Oh great, she’s caught the dumb.

Atlas: Are you saying that she didn’t have the dumb earlier?

It was an easy thing to deduce,

        (Ghost) Type: Especially with all those smoke pipes full of cocaine.

based on the warm liquid coating my chin and the way her whole hindquarters spasmed under my grip that she was close to orgasm. Her descent into vulgarity continued as I refused to relent.

“F-fucking faggot...”

        Atlas: “I’ll get you next time, Ca-Caca-Cabbage!”

        (Ghost) Type: “I’ll get you next time, Gadget!”

she moaned into the pile of coins. “Does this, oh Celestia...does this get you off?

(Ghost) Type: Gold loves watching its bitch getting fucked like that. Yeah, almost like there were a chance that it would get jealous.

 You're so lucky I'm letting you do this to me. You fucking...pervert. So pathetic...” she continued, insulting me as she humped my face with her needy rump, begging me to get her off with her own body as she berated me in speech. “Shouldn't you...oh, fuck...be screwing a real girl right now? You have to use a little fucking kid to get off, fuck...”

Atlas: Okay, I was wrong before. Diamond and Lyra from Miss Me? are the same character. *taser malfunctions* They’re hacking the system!

(Ghost) Type: Diamond Tiara is now a goat.

One final little nibble on her clit was all it took to send her over the edge. “I'm c-” was all that she managed before devolving into formless and primal screaming.

        Atlas: *screams into Type's ear*

        (Ghost) Type: Ow, my Ghost eardrums.

A gush of warm

        (Ghost) Type: Ovaltine.

liquid covered my already sopping face as she grinded into me. Her head covered in her hooves and coins to hide the scream of an orgasming filly that echoed through the house anyway.

        (Ghost) Type: Get sound absorbent coins next time, you cheap bastard!

        Atlas: That doesn’t even . . . I need a fuckin’ drink.

Her entire body was quivering and shaking as I set her rear hooves back to the floor gently. They stood, shaking, for a brief moment before collapsing and completing the image perfectly.

        Atlas: Perfect? Image?! NoOoOoOoOoOoOoO!!!

(Ghost) Type: Dan Brown sure has fallen a ways with the hidden messages that  he sees.

A once haughty Diamond Tiara was now a disorderly and embarrassed mess,

        (Ghost) Type: Gold loves you for who you are, not what you look like, DT.

        Atlas: Goldmember loves her for how she looks, I’m sure of that much.

her legs twitching slightly and her chest heaving, her ruffled hair

        (Ghost) Type: I prefer Pringles, but suit yourself.

clinging to her sweaty body.

Now, it was time for my own desires.

        (Ghost) Type: What a chivalrous cunt you are.

I reached over and grabbed her flanks and pulled her in front of me. She was laying on her back, her soaked rump sitting just inches from me.

        (Ghost) Type: The rest of Diamond Tiara however was too far out of reach.

I laid my cock between her hindlegs, feeling the heat radiating from her stomach. Her slit was still winking occasionally.

Atlas: Clop writers keep associating that verb with the vag. I have no idea why, becuz it’s fuckin’ creepy. Does the snatch blink too?

(Ghost) Type: I would hate to date a woman ventriloquist.

I looked up and into her eyes as I lined up my cock with her wet tunnel.

        Atlas: The tunnel of- *a sperm whale lands on Natural* love! *gets hit by a train*

Her limbs were trembling in trepidation

        (Ghost) Type: As Terry took the train to Tijuana.

and her eyes matched that – a heretofore unseen fear was evident in them.

        (Ghost) Type: “Hide yo kids, hide yo wife!”

But I detected something else. Desire? Yearning?

(Ghost) Type: Dude just leave the young couple alone. You’re the worst third wheel for not seeing that DT and the pile of gold want to consummate their relationship.

Whatever it was, she didn't tell me to stop as I prepared to rut her until she couldn't walk.

        Atlas: Whatever gets this guy assfucked in prison will do just fine.

I've seen what happens to her composure after the first orgasm.

        (Ghost) Type: And do you thank pile of gold for letting you stay and watch? No.

I wonder what will happen after the second...and the sixth, and the fourteenth...

Atlas: I’d tell you that the female reproductive system doesn’t work that way, but what the hell?

(Ghost) Type: I’m surprised you don’t have a show on VH1 or something to show us your obvious expertise.

The sound of a gate outside opening stopped me right as I was about to slide into Diamond Tiara.

“Dad,” she whispered breathlessly.

        Atlas: Turns out that she was fantasizing about her father the whole time.

        (Ghost) Type: Pile of gold is ok with that.

She pulled herself to her feet, panicking, as I shoved my aching hard-on back into my pants.

        (Ghost) Type: I’ve never wished that “Use it or lose it” was true more than now.

I grabbed Diamond's rump and pulled her pajamas back onto her as she was scooping up the coins into the discarded bag.

        Atlas: At the same time? How?

        (Ghost) Type: Teamwork. That’s how.

She sprinted past the front door towards her bedroom as I wiped off my mouth and brushed down my clothes. Grabbing the magazine,

        (Ghost) Type: Probably upside down.

I collapsed back down onto the couch, trying to act inconspicuous despite being covered

        (Ghost) Type: This guy has insurance? What the flipping fuck!

and sweat and with a tented erection painfully trapped in my pants.

        Atlas: Good! Let the blueness of the balls flow through you!

The door opened not a second after I flicked the magazine open. Filthy Rich entered his home,

        (Ghost) Type: Trumpets sounded and ponies cheered.

looking exhausted. I immediately stood up and ran over to help him with his bags.

        (Ghost) Type: Forgetting himself and planting a kiss on the pony’s cheek.

“Thanks,” he said, with difficulty “Rough day...”

        Atlas: I didn’t know Mayor Mare was that wild in bed.

        (Ghost) Type: There’s a reason no one runs against her.

He wandered over to the middle of the floor and practically collapsed on the spot where I had been licking his daughter's rump not three minutes ago.

        (Ghost) Type: His instincts for poon are amazing.

“How were things here? Where's Diamond?”

        Atlas: Since you asked, she is at Skyfall. I think she flew there by helicopter . . .

“Things were great here, Mr. Rich.” I answered with a cheery smile.

        (Ghost) Type: Not realizing that a small curl of pony hair was caught in his teeth.

 “Diamond's already asleep, the poor thing. We had a lot of fun today so she fell asleep early.”

        Atlas: “She’s so tired that I left her where she lay. In the cave of the Ursa Major.”

        (Ghost) Type: That’s way safer than this asshole.

Rich nodded, satisfied.

        (Ghost) Type: Aloe and Lotus know what they’re doing.

He picked himself up off the floor after a minute, with a groan.

“I'm really glad things went okay. I was worried th-”

        Atlas: “-e police would come, asking about a lost filly whom I totally don’t know.”

he stopped mid-sentence, picking up his hoof to look at what he had stepped on. “Huh...a bit? Guess it's my lucky day, huh? Hahaha...”

(Ghost) Type: I wonder about that bit he found in his parent’s room when he was a colt.

I chuckled with him, nervously, as I wondered if that bit was currently slick the saliva his daughter drooled as I brought her to her first orgasm.

Atlas: If he’s the worst pervert ever then may- “an ocean liner lands on RatherHomely* >:3

“Oh, speaking of, I guess I owe you for tonight...” He stumbled over to his bag, clearly bankrupt of energy. Digging through the pockets of on his bag, he pulled out an ornate bag

        (Ghost) Type: A bag within a bag...fuck Inception memes.

        Atlas: Bagcept- *gets blasted with the bass cannon*

and held it out for me. When it dropped into my hands, it was clear that this was much more then I was promised for the night.

(Ghost) Type: When Filthy Rich spends time with Ladies of the Night, they pay him.

It was even more than I had paid Diamond Tiara the previous few hours.

“But, Mr. Rich...” I began, confused

        Atlas: “Why is everything wrong and nothing right?”

(Ghost) Type: Black is white, down is up, I spent several hours reading about a dude LICKING A PONY’S VAGINA.

Atlas: Could be worse. I don’t know how but clopfic writers are weird like that.

“Consider it a bonus.” He explained with a weary smile. “Anyone who takes as good of care of my daughter as you do deserves a little something extra.”

        Atlas: *eye twich*

(Ghost) Type: And maybe sometime Filthy Rich could show you why the girls also call him “Mr. Big.”

I nodded, pleased, and thanked him profusely.

        Atlas: *nose bleeds profusely* My brain feels numb.

        (Ghost) Type: MEDIC!

Maybe on some moralistic

        (Ghost) Type: Ha.

        Atlas: lol

level, the something

        (Ghost) Type: Or anything, really.

should have screamed out that Mr. Rich was an amicable and exemplary stallion, and that the acts I committed with his daughter were unacceptable, but right now the only thing I could think of was what I was going to use this money to pay Diamond to do next time.

Atlas: What does this guy do when he isn’t babysitting? Serious question, author. What does this guy do outside of trying to fuck Diamond?

(Ghost) Type: *Laugh track plays*

Atlas: If you weren’t already dead, I’d take two bricks to your nutsack and smash them together. Enjoy that mental image.

“I hope you'll forgive my hosting skills, but I've really got to get to bed...” Rich said,

        (Ghost) Type: I’m dead.

        Atlas: And I’m bored.

making for the stairs. “I'll see you at the same time next weekend, right?”

“That's right, Mr. Rich.” I responded.

        (Ghost) Type: He’ll be hanging around the playgrounds, as usual.

I gathered up my things and made to leave, but no sooner than I heard the door to Rich's room shut I heard Diamond's open. She came creeping into the room just I was about to step outside.

Turning to face her, I saw that she had regained herself

        (Ghost) Type: So she’s not an inexplicable slut now?

– her hair was back to its coiffed state and her expression was the dispassionate disgust she put on when she was around me.

        (Ghost) Type: Is she also wearing pigtails?

I simply smiled at her.

Atlas: So unbelievably stupid, this guy is. It’s like I could hit him in the face with a cricket bat and he wouldn’t notice it for about five seconds.

(Ghost) Type: He’s managed to be too embarrassing for Slowpoke to bring to parties

She held out her hoof expectantly as she eyed the large bag of bits in my hand. The second's hesitation on my part was all she needed to launch into a lecture.

        Atlas: Diamond just turned into Sonic the hedgehog. Great.

“Oh, you still don't get it, do you? You're mine. Forever and ever, as long as I want to play with you. You're mine.

        Atlas: Until you grow up, that is.

        (Ghost) Type: She’s speaking to pile of gold’s twin adopted brother, Manuel!

I get to decide everything for the rest of your pathetic little life. If you're lucky, you'll get to spend the rest of your days milking your cock to me.

Atlas: Jeez that’s depressing. I know that Diamond is a bully and all, but since when did she become a succubus? How do you fuck up a two dimensional character like that?

(Ghost) Type: I wonder if he’d be walking into Milky Way’s turf.

If you're unlucky, maybe Daddy gets to hear why my rump is covered in your spit right now.

        (Ghost) Type: Wash that shit, eww.

Maybe Daddy gets to hear how many times you've cum all over his floor as you forced me to display myself for your perverted desires.”

        Atlas: I’d consider that to be a good ending.

        (Ghost) Type: Awkward, but good.

She held out her hoof even more commandingly, shaking it slightly. “You wouldn't want to be unlucky, would you? Now hand over those bits.”

Sheepishly,

        (Ghost) Type: There’s never been a word more apt.

regretting that I ever let myself think that I had control over her now, I dropped the bag of bits into her waiting hoof.

        Atlas: They’ll never find the body . . .

“Yesss...” she said in a near-moan. “There's a good little piggy bank...Hopefully now, you know your place. Mine. Forever and ever. Don't forget it.”

Atlas: What does she even do with the money?! What does she do with the fucking money, man?! I want answers, damn it!

(Ghost) Type: The world may never know.

She took one more glance at the erection evident in my pants, giggled derisively,

        (Ghost) Type: It’s just as likely to be the creasing in the jeans.

and marched back towards her bedroom.

        (Ghost) Type: Quick-time, harch.

I stepped outside, took a deep breath of the crisp air, and made for home,

        (Ghost) Type: Which is that white van parked down by the river.

Atlas: “You see some messed up stuff when you’re living in a van down by the river!”

cursing each step

        (Ghost) Type: “Yu mo gwai gui...”

        Atlas: “Shishitshithsithsithsithsitsjwpcuiieqwucxcejdwk- CUNT!”

I put between myself and my princess.

Atlas: So after all that she’s done, and pretty much making him her slave, he still can’t get enough of her. *gets out a pistol* Fuck this shit! I can’t even begin to fathom how stupid this is. How stupid the human is. How OOC Diamond is. How this was meant to turn people on in the first place! I’m Atlas Nebula and I need to go borrow Natural’s meds. Oh, and merry Christmas and happy new year!

(Ghost) Type: ...I’m gonna haunt the shit out of you until you find a way to bring me back to life, Atlas. Damn this was pretty bad. Not awful, but...I can definitely see how the anon’s situation can totally be put onto the reader: no sense of closure at the end and the dumbasses will be frothing at the mouth for a continuation despite the rational choice being to just give up and find something better.

Clop is just absurd.

Atlas: Unless it’s Xenophilia. In THAT case . . . *summons a body for Type*

Type: Thanks. Anyway, Xenophilia’s a fucking romance novel, not just clop. Hell even Preggity’s a work of unapologetic art compared to this fic. *Waits a beat* Hmm...something’s not quite right. *Turns to Atlas and Sparta-kicks him down a hole* Ah, that’s better. Next Chapter: Guest Submission: The Lottery Estimated time remaining: 1 Hour, 2 Minutes