>>/7798/ (next-post on postlines, even)

> Be me. But with more hangover.
> Seriously, at 17 you've never touched alcohol.
> Sifu would beat you for being slowed.
> He beats you enough just because he can.
> You've known the pleasures of women, before however.
> It was … different, with a filly.

> Roastie was hardly any older than you, and you think this was her first time.
> She groans now, sounding as pained as you feel.
> It took some creativity to make the parts reach in a pleasurable way.
> Roastie's eyes, the beautiful color of afternoon sunshine open
> She inhales, as if to scream.
> You lay a hand on her shoulder, hoping to hold off her alarm.
> You may have to talk to a disgruntled father about where she was last night.
> Obviously, you can never have enough dads furious at your very existance.

"Roastie, good morning. I guess that stuff you brought was pretty potent."
> You can't remember when you started calling her a pet name.
> But she laughed, when you said it.
> You wanted her to be free to laugh more. She needed it.
> She didn't scream, but was almost hyperventilating.

> "Anon, they execute ponies for bestiality."
> The bedroom, literally a floor covered with three inches of straw, has no amenities.
> You look for something towel-like so she can at least wipe her privates.
"Are you sure they consider human on pony by that term?"
> She nods, as she tries to get up.

> Getting dressed quickly, you begin to rethink your life's plans.
"Did you tell anyone you were going to get drunk & laid last night?"
> She stumbles toward a nearby wall, not lifting her head all the way.
> Shaking her head carefully she turns and plants her tail end against the wall.
> "No but the booze I stole will paint a picture."
"We just need to leave at separate times and not hold hands. Hooves, whatever."

> If it squicks the natives that much, they'll assume nothing is actually happening.
> So long as the pair don't give the impression anything more is happening.
> The door bursts open. Intruding on the private room are two white pegasi
> Wearing metal uniforms.
> "We're her about some noise complaints." The one on the left all but demands.
> "Come outside right now." the one to your right adds.
> "We need to talk to you about what happened last night."
     
  [next post]
     
> Instinct kicks in. The titanium blades you'd bought for your 14th birthday.
> But the handles and bindings were stolen, yes.

> One blade, now buried under the collarbone of the pegasus on the right.
> The left was just slashed. Not incapacitated yet.
> You throw a kick to its rib cage, and feel bones break.
> Just as the nausea takes you, you remember the wings.
> Grabbing a wing, you drop the sword in favor of a choke hold.
> Barfing over his bleeding neck, you punch just in front of the shoulder blades.
> Repeatedly.
> Until his spine cracks.

> You're now covered in blood, vomitus, and standing over two dead cops.
> You understand Roasting Hops' fears.
> Gasping, you take the large step toward Roastie.
> Crying, she leans against the barn's wall.
> You lay a hand gently on her right shoulder.

"Roastie?"
> You wait for her to make eye contact.
"You need to make a choice. I'm going to run. Do you want to run with me, or stay here?"
> She's almost shivering now, but the sound of her tears has stopped.
> The way she's eying the corpses, you think you know her answer.

> "Trottingham."
> That was not what you thought her answer would be.
> "It's far from Ponyville. No one travels between them. We can escape."
> She steps away from the wall to lay her head against your right hip.
> Wrapping a foreleg around your left hip, she speaks so softly you almost can't hear her.
> "I don't want to be in this town, ever again."