Tracy is Best Mom: Part 1

>be young naïve Anon
>approximately 13 years old
>You’ve recently become a teenager, but it was no different from any of your other years, as the “rebellious stage” never really showed up for you because you've been a bit of a beta faggot most of your life, to the point where you couldn't even disobey your mom.
>Then again, why would you? She's a fucking psycho, even if she adopted you. You're not sure what the orphanage was thinking releasing you to her.
>At this point you think they were just trying to get rid of you after having spent a few too many years there, and not getting along with all the other kids.
>Which is to say you were picked on a fuckton by all the other horses for the sole reason of NOT being a horse and such a pushover.
>Having your new mom take you in was a tad frightening at first, considering you weren't sure how to behave around her much more aggressive nature, as compared to most of the other pastel horses that were all about friendship, smiles, and rainbows.
>Tracy, as you would later come to know her, was anything but the loving kind mother you’d expect to one day adopt you.
>Quite the opposite actually. She seemed almost sadistic and cruel and you couldn’t imagine why she’d want to take you in when she did.
>One thing is for sure. She made you nervous, anxious, and completely terrified at times.
[spoiler]That and you remember specifically hearing her say before picking you up that she'd make a stallion out of you if she had to "stab it into him."[/spoiler]
>That alone should have raised red flags, but the caretaker of all these foals wasn't exactly on point in terms of picking up on these kinds of things.
>You wonder how many other younger ponies were sent to possibly abusive homes because of her.

>Now in the hooves of this pale blue horse, you walk alongside her, just an inch or two above her height.
>Not a word is spoken as she leads you to a decent looking home on the outskirts of the town. Things seem a little tense between the two of you and the awkward silence is slowly eating you up.
>Should you be the first to introduce yourself?
>Should you thank her for taking you in?
>Shouldn't you at least know her name?
>Is that who you think it is as her cutie mark?

>She opens the door unceremoniously and trots inside.
>The interior of the house betrays its average look outside, being the disheveled mess it is.
>The room was spread out like your old house funny enough; A large couch, a glass coffee table, some bookshelves with anything BUT books.
>The curtains are partially torn, stacks of boxes lay in a corner, some turned over and spilling out their contents; lewd magazines.
>You remember seeing stuff like this under dad's bed.
>Mom wasn't happy to come home one day finding you sitting on their bed examining them either... You didn't get the appeal.
>The furniture was looking mostly decent looking, until your eyes started adjusting to the light and you began noticing several splotches on them. You weren't even sure where the stains started and the natural color of the material ended. You're not sure you wanted to find out either.

>You're about to continue scanning the rest of the room until you hear a disgruntled voice emanate from her direction.
>"Are you going to come into the fucking house or not, pipsqueak?"
>You look down at your feet and realize you never actually entered the house and have been standing at the doorway looking inside like an idiot the entire time.
>You quietly mumble "Y-yes, M-ma'am...” but she isn't having any of it.
>"Sorry, I can't hear you. Mind actually looking at me, and talking like a normal fucking pony... colt... whatever the fuck you are?"
"Yes Ma'am!"
>"Don't you call me a ma'am. I'm your goddamn mother now. DO I LOOK LIKE AN OLD TRAMP TO YOU??" she starts raising her voice loudly.
"N-no! I'm sorry! I didn't me--"
>"Oh my Celestia, shut up, get inside, and close the door!" her voice lowering down to normal levels.
>You do so like a good boy, and keep your head hung low to stare at the floor. The stained, carpeted floor. You’re used to this kind of treatment at this point.
>You can't see her, and you're not sure you want to at this point. First impression went all but terribly, and you can feel her silent stare bore into your skull.

>An agonizing minute passes of this before she finally gets off the couch, hooves hitting the floor with a softened thud as she approaches you.
>You tense up a little as she across from you, and though you attempt to avoid her gaze, you can tell that she is very clearly glaring with disgust at you.
>You're not sure what it is you did. You didn't want to do anything wrong, so you did nothing, but maybe that's where you messed up?
>Time to rectify this.
>You muster up enough courage to make eye contact with her, shaking off the urge to immediately stare back down at your feet, and hold it. Extending your arm out for a hand-hoofshake.
"M-my name is Anon. Uh... I don't think I know your n-name yet." You meekly introduce yourself.
>She's quiet for a minute, looking down to your hand and then back up at you.
>"Tracy. Now get your... thing, away from my face."
>Your arm snaps back to your side and you start looking down at the floor again.
>"HEY. EYES ARE UP HERE." She gestures with a hoof at her hardened expression.
>You make eye contact again, but very reluctantly.
"S-sorry"
>"Stop saying you're sorry. Jeez, why did the only one they'd let me have, have to be a complete faggot."
>What? You were given away to her because you were the runt of the litter? Seriously?

>You weren't sure how to handle that little tidbit but you didn't exactly have time to ponder more on it, as your new mother is now yanking you into the room to sit down on the couch she was on earlier.
>"Guess I'll have to fix that later. For now, I figure they don't feed you much in terms of slop in that there orphanage. Are you hungry, or not? You better answer too, because starting now I will not repeat myself twice."
>It's true. They never really gave you much, and you wouldn't take much either. You usually ate spaghetti with mom and dad back home, but that was more a luxury in an orphanage, and they only gave you the bare minimum for a variety of reasons.
>You needed meat but they didn't have any they'd give you, being vegetarian society, and all.
>You had no choice but to settle with veggies, but even then, you needed a substantial amount considering it never filled you up for long.
>You never took much because all the other kids seemed to need it more than you, or they simply took it off you knowing you wouldn't stand up for yourself.
"Yes, please. I'm really hungry actually."
>"Great, you finally know what you want." she says plainly before making her way into what you assume was the kitchen.
>You sit there drumming your fingers a little bit pensively. Taking in more of the room from the couch.
>There's a TV here? They didn't have TV's back in the orphanage.
>Your start to look for a remote, starting with the coffee table in front of you, but a look of confusion crosses you as you see it is lined a variety of knives of different shapes and sizes.
>Some of them are even rusted. You think that's rust. You really hope that's rust.
> Aside from that you see more magazines with ponies bending in all sorts of positions, and a few mounds of white powder.
>Why would she keep sugar on the outside of the kitchen? Maybe it's for tea?
>You hunger is getting the better of you and you figure a few pinches of the stuff wouldn't hurt while you wait

>As you're about to take some of the powder from the table you hear Tracy scream from the kitchen, and you freeze.
>"HEY. DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING YOU LITTLE WEASEL. Do I have to babysit you every second of your life??"
>You drop the pinch of sugar and keep your hands to yourself. You don't know why she's so sensitive about the stuff on the table if it’s so out in the open like this.
>When you're sure she isn't looking, you take a few pinches of the stuff and stick it in your pants' small pocket.
>You figure if this mare is going to be this mean to you, she might try to starve you one day for no good reason, so it’s best to save up on whatever you can find.
>15 stomach-gurgling minutes pass and she shouts for you to come to the dining table; A simple round oak table, two chairs seated there.
>One of which is a shoddily made high-chair.
>Iwonderwhichoneisyours.jpg.
>She drops the two plates down onto the table and sits while digging into her meal without bothering to give you a second look.
>Looking down at your food you notice that it isn't the usual salad. It's lasagna. With actual meat sauce. You never thought you'd see this again in your life!
"Uh Trac--"
>"MOM! ... I'm your mom now. Call me mom."
> Uhh, what..? You’re really coming close to just giving up on trying to understand her at this point.
"O-okay. Mom. Where did you get this?"
>"Are you being ungrateful for the meal that's been put in front of you? After I so graciously brought you into my home? I could always send you back yo-"
"No no no! I mean, this is amazing! Normally I don't get meat. I didn't think ponies ate meat because... y'know... they're--"
>"Pansies. Look don't you question where I get my meat just fucking eat it. Be glad your mommy knows how to treat a kid your age." Her cutlery making deep and juicy slices into her food, “Need to get some meat in those things you call arms. No muscle. Pathetic.”
"Oh. Right. Thanks mom." You say taking a few bites of the meal, doing your best not to seem offended.
>Sweet cheesus this is amazing. The meat is a little tough but great none the less.
"Mom?"
>"What is it now?"
"What kind of meat is this?"

>She stops eating and stares at you again with the hating stare.
>"Just eat the fucking food."
>You're not getting the answer from her any time soon, so you keep eating.
>After finishing, she gets up and walks down a hall and into another room, leaving you with the dishes.
>You take that as a hint to get them done for her. It's the least you can do in exchange for a roof over your head and a warm meal.
>It’s love.. tough love, but love nonetheless, you tell yourself.
>After all that is done you take a look at a nearby clock and see that it's past your usual bed time and decide to crash for the night. You haven't seen or heard from Tracy-- Mom (Getting used to calling her that isn't going to be easy) in the time you've been cleaning so you decide to find her.
>Walking down the hall you find three doors, all of which are closed, lights out.
>You're about to try them one by one until you start hearing some shifting inside the one on your left.
>Putting your ear to the door you hear some kind of smacking sound, like a water balloon hitting a wall without popping, and what sounds like heavy breathing.
>Being the curious kid you are, you blindly walk in on her, and sure enough there she is; back to you, sitting on the ground of a very disorganized room, shifting a lot.
"Hey mom, where am I-- Uh.. what are you doing?" you inquire, your voice growing faint.
>Her head snaps to look behind her but hunched over to conceal whatever she was doing. "CAN'T YOU SEE I'M BUSY, SQUIRT?" she demands in a shrill voice, causing you to visibly flinch.
"I was just wondering where I am sleeping.. because, well, it’s bedtime. What’re you doing anyway?"
>She pauses narrowing her eyes at you and then, features neutral. "Cleaning the knives from dinner." She quietly answers, holding up the large curved blade up to the moonlight for you to see.
>Well she probably was cleaning it considering how wet it was with all that soap. Maybe she's using a bucket or something instead of the sink, not that you could see it.
>You never were good at putting two and two together, or you just simply refused to believe any of the harsher things in reality. You were 9 when you first got here. How were you expected to understand any of this?

>Not caring enough to ask more about that, you revisit your previous question;
"So.. where was I sleeping again?"
>She examines her skewering blade and wipes off the fluid on herself before flinging it into the wall to the side where it sticks, among several others.
>Christ you’ve never seen so many knives in one wall, so much as in this house. Something tells you They couldn’t all be for cooking.
>"I'd put you on the couch but I know how you can get your grubby fingers all over my things, so maybe the floor."
>Great. It seems like some things never change.
>You’re about to plop yourself down on the ground and lay there, but she stops you pre-emptively.

>"Hang on. How old are you again?"
"13." you answer flatly, not seeing where this was going.
>A wicked sneer passes over her face. You don't like that look. Why does she have that look on her face?
>"Hmm.. You know what pipsqueak? I'm feeling awful generous. Guess you can sleep with mommy tonight. It's your first day here after all.”
"Aren't I a little too old to be sleeping in the same bed as my mom..?"
>"If you'd prefer the floor with the roaches and spiders, that's fine by me." She states with apathy.
"R-roaches?"
>You feel a tingling fear crawl up your spine. Good god you hated roaches. They survive nearly everything. You couldn't even stomp one dead when you tried some time ago, and the kids made it a game to sneak them on you in your sleep.  What’s worse is the ones here would eve hiss at you!
>Childish as it sounded, looks like you're sleeping with mom tonight.
>Wordlessly, you shuffle over to the mattress, head hung in defeat.
>"Good choice. Now get in the covers. I’m not reading you any bedtime stories."
>Taking one good look at the bed you notice it's meant only for one person.. a small person considering it was for a pony.

>this is going to be a long night.

>An hour passes and you and your mom are under the blanket.
>She took up most of the space and forced you into a corner against the wall on the bed.
>At least you won't be falling off.
>At least you had a bed.
>At least you were warm.
>At least you had someone holding y- wait what.
>Sure enough Tracy had passed out, her hooves wrapping around you in her sleep as she mumbled to herself.
>You lay there staring outside the window for the longest time. Sleep would have taken over by now but Tracy would sometimes grind up against you and moan audibly enough that it’d snap you out of your light resting.
>Other times she'd simply mumble incomprehensibly, although you're sure you could make out the words "cut", "cum", and "fuck" several times.
>This wasn't working and you needed to get out of there, and piss like a racehorse.
>Sleeping in the same bed as your adoptive mother was one thing, but pissing the bed was where you drew the line.
>Slowly moving her hooves off, you climb over her like a ninja in training, not making too much noise as you stealthily avoided shaking the bed and stepping on her.
>Landing off the side of the bed receives you a penalty of a loud creak from the floor underneath.
>Strike one.
>"Mmh.. fill me up, Anon.." she mumbles again.
>Dawww.jpg
>She must be dreaming you're cooking for her. You'll have to remember to learn to do that one day.
>Tip-toeing out the door and down the hall, you're faced with the 2 other doors from earlier.
>You open the first one look peer inside;
>Steps leading down into the dark.. Spooky.
>You're about to close it but a thud from the abyss catches your attention
>Not a muscle moves and you can hear your heart beat against your chest, ears at attention, listening for something.. anything.
>You stand staring down into the dark unsure of what to do, weighing your options silently.
>On one hand you can close the door and go take the leak.. Get back in bed and check it out in the morning…
>On the other hand, you could go down in the dark creepy basement and get mauled by some monster waiting for you like in all those horror flicks.
>Your thoughts of interrupted by what sounds like muffled thumping and whispers.
>Nope.avi
>You get ready to turn 360 degrees around and nope the fuck outta there at Sanic speed, however in that moment, memories of being locked in the supply closet and crying for help assault your mind. Being treated like the chicken you are and picked on for all your fears by kids at the orphanage because they could.

> You're done being a chicken.

>One step.
>Two steps.
>Three steps.
>One step at a time you make your way down into the dark, each wooden board creaking as you descend.
>Floor.

>Your eyes have adjusted a little more, but you can't really see too far ahead of you, just enough to know that you're going to hug the walls until you find a switch.
>as you grope around, patting the walls aimlessly, it occurs to you that the thuds and muffled sounds have ceased and you've been enveloped in an eerie silence.
>The dark only feeds your paranoia further and you find it much harder to keep going, inching down the walls.
>As you're about to give up, your hands happen upon something course and fibrous in material.
>A bag? It's all lumpy and--
"...help.."
>HOLY FUCK THIS THING IS TALKING.
>OHSHITNIGGER IT MOVED!
>You nearly screech in fear, jumping back from it, but tripping backward over some obscure object, falling in what seems like slow motion.
>Your head connects with the cold stone floor, and what little vision you had left goes dark slowly that bag lurch forward and worm its way closer to you, and stop as a second shadowy figure arrives at your side;
>"What do you think you're doing down here, little one? You should be asleep. Let Mommy take care of that booboo for you.."
>If there is anything good that comes out of this, at least you don't have to take that piss anymore.

>Dawn of the Second Day
>Be lying in bed snoozing it up. All is right with the world and you're starting to wake up to the glorious sun invading your rest.
>Fucking Celestia, you're sure she has it out for you and finding ways for the sun to get in your eyes no matter how you cover yourself.
>Damn that's a killer headache you've got going on too. Feels like you hit.. your.. head..
.................
>You leap out of the bed and frantically attempt to get your bearings.
>You're in Tracy's room, musty and disgusting as it is. No sign of her anywhere.
"Head hurts.. pants are moist.. nightmare.. was it real?" you ask yourself aloud.
>Before you can reach out for the door, it slams open, and there before you stands the mare of your fears.
>"Mornin', twerp. Get ready for school, you're already going to be late if you don't go. Guess you're going without breakfast."
>School? Shoot that's right, its Thursday. You're about to thank her and go but stop.
>No, you're not letting what happened last night just slip away.
"Tracy, what hap-"
>"HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU. I'M YOUR MOTHER NOW. You will address me as such or so help me I'll.." She screams but stops, looking as though she is restraining herself from slamming you across the face.
>"... Sorry, baby. Mommy is a little upset this morning. Having been kept up by a certain someone banging their head against the wall all night,"
>What?? You don't move around in your sleep! As far as you know anyway.
>"... and having messed up the sheet by wetting the bed while mommy was still in it."
>That.. well.. you don't want to explain that it happened once in the orphanage too. It wasn't a good night for anyone.

>You can't think of what to say. Could what you saw last night have just been a nightmare? It's possible. A lot more likely too.
"Sorry, mom. I’ll just go to school now."
>"Good. I'm going to get ready work.” She says grabbing a collar off the bookshelf. What is she, a dog sitter or something? “You take your time coming back, got it?"
".. sure mom.."

>Changing pants and transferring the contents, you remember the bag of sugar you kept in your pockets from yesterday, and stick it in an old backpack you found lying in the living room.
>As you are about to leave you take a last look at the door you saw in your 'dream'.
>You'll go down there when you come back, that's for damn sure.

>You wave goodbye to Tracy as she makes sure you're out and slams the door once you're gone.
>You are really starting to think she hates you.
>Making your way downtown
>Walking fast
>Faces pass
>and you're school bound
DUN NUH NUH NUH NUH
That song is stuck on repeat in your head. Can't seem to make it stop either.
>Arriving at the school you spot your small group of foal friends hanging in a circle.
>One spots you and waves you over.
>"Hiya Anon!" one of them squeaks with cheer.
>What was her name again? Sweaty Balls?
>That's a really dumb name, but you can't bring yourself to tell her that. She's one of the very few friends you have.
"H-hey.."
>The others follow suit in greetings and begin their usual chatter before class.

>"So I heard you finally got adopted! I'm so happy for you!" Sweaty squeaks.
>"Yeah, we were afraid you'd never get a real family ever again!" another chimes in.
>"Don't talk lahk that Scoots! He's got one now an' that's all that matters!" the third one with the bow scolds.
"Girls, please, its fine. I'm just trying to take it slowly.."

>They quiet down and smile before Scoots speaks up, "So who is it that got you anyway?"
>"Yeah! Who?"
>"C'mon, tell us A-nohn!"

"Some mare named Tracy.. No dad, just a mom.. but she's kind of creepy."
>At hearing the name they nod quietly, but you doubt they know who she is.
>Before they can ask more, the bell rings prompting everyone back inside.

>The day goes by quickly and you learn what you've already known as per usual.
>The education system here is far behind your own back on Earth, but you've learned to put that past you if that meant being the smartest in the class.
>This also meant, however, that you were the biggest NERD in the class on top of being the weirdest looking. Why'd they accepted you in an all pony school to begin with is beyond your comprehension, but you doubt there was much else in terms of options.
>Class ends and the girls go their separate ways after having said their goodbyes.
>You're about to do the same, but are stopped by a group of bigger colts.
>Great.
>Right on schedule as always.

>"Hey monkey. Nice bag you've got there. Finally got around to replacing the old one?"

>Ah yes.. the old one went missing one day..
>Missing on the roof of the school, like the other 2 you'd bought.
"Listen, I really don't want any trouble okay..? It's not fair that you guys pick on me like this. What'd I ever do to you?"
>"Oh nothing, but how else will we play Monkey in the Middle without a proper monkey?"

>At these words you feel your bag being ripped from your back in an instant.
>You regain your balance and rush to grab it back, but are promptly knocked on your ass by the combined bucking of two colts to the chest.
>The wind knocked out of your lungs, the most you can do is lay there and try not to cry as they drag you past the school to a more secluded area.
>It is there that you have your regularly scheduled beatings. If you're lucky maybe they won't bust your ribs like they did a few weeks ago.

>One savage kicking later, the group disbands and takes off in another direction rifling through your bag as take off.
>"Hey check it out! Anon is learning to cook namby-pamby treats! He's carrying around flour to bake with his little fillyfriends!"
>Laughter. God you hate their laughter.

>The coast is clear, and you get up and trudge your way home.

"Some things never change.." you mutter bitterly to yourself.
>You're half way across town now, a slight limp in your step.
>The orphanage passes by your eyes as you continue your sullen march, some of the colts and fillies heading inside that you know from school.
>You pay them no mind, distancing your thoughts from the past, instead focusing on what’s ahead like you normally do; The job listings board and stalls in the town square.
>the erected corkboard was usually barren, save for the occasional manual labor job for Carrot Top and her harvest, or garden work for Roseluck.
>Something was odd about the board today though.
>Today there were fewer job postings and posters for missing pets.
>This would happen on occasion as you've come to find, but this time there was a pony among those names of pets.
>A missing pony? That's practically unheard of here. The town is too small for that kind of thing.
>You get a good long look at the description of the pony.
"Rainy Summer; Earth Pony.. Lime green coat.. Velvet Mane with curls.. Usually wears a blue bow to tie back. Cutie mark is a water drop."

>Goodness, she was barely older than you!
>You figure she may have gone too far into the Everfree Forest.
>You continue your trek back home, keeping her information in mind in case you ever happen to see her somehow.

>There was only one road that led to the house where Tracy lived, and it was outside of Ponyville.
>This only served to make you more curious as to why you passed by at least 3 other stallions on their way back to Ponyville on the same road.
>They must have been curious as to why you were going there too, as they shot confused looks right back at you.
>Chalk it up to being the only human in Equestria.
>Let's go with that.

>You make it to the door and give a few solid knocks.
>"Shit did you hear that?" you hear someone inside whisper. That did not sound like a mare.
>"Yeah yeah just shut up for a minute, probably another one."
>The sound of hoof steps approach and come to a stop at the door.
>"What is it you want and how much are we talking?"
"Uh... what?"
>Silence fills the other side of the door before the hoof steps sound off away from the door and some unintelligible mumbling is heard. You can only make out a little of it.
>"It's .... need to leave."
>"What?! .... paid for... bitch"
>"..... repeat myself........fuck... knife.... "
>"Give..... ..... bits....!"

>You're pressing your ear against the door at this point and almost fly back as the sound of glass shattering against a wall from within followed by the pleasant sound of your mother saying:

>"GET THE FUCK OUT, BEFORE I TAKE -YOUR- BITS AND SHOVE THEM WHERE THE SUN DOESN'T SHINE, SHIT HEAD."
>In a flash, the door flies open and the stallion rushes out, galloping full speed down the road to town.
>Mom stands in the doorway on all fours seething with rage, but quickly cooling down as she tears her eyes from the shrinking silhouette of the stallion, and down to you. Her motherly smile returning.
>"Hello, son." she says quietly, wiping some... -milk- off her muzzle.

    >You're still kind of looking at the stallion as he disappears into town.
    "Was that my dad or something..?"
    >She looks back at the town, then back to you.
    >"No.” She answers plainly “That was a client of mine. He didn't understand that I don't like to do business when I have family obligations.
    >She probably felt VERY strongly about that, from what you could tell of that outburst a few seconds ago.
    >You simply nod and walk inside before she stops you.
    >"What. No hug for your mother? No hello?"

    >Where is all this coming from? She acts like she hates you and wants to hurt you, and then she tries to be motherly?
    >You don't like Tracy. You hate having to call her mom. You hate having to show her respect with the way she treats you.
    >You're getting out of there as soon as you can, but for now...

    >You walk back over to her and give her a long hug.
    >She wraps her hooves around you and presses her head into you and sighs contentedly.
    "H-hi mom.. How was your day?"
    >She doesn't say a word and just buries her head into you more..
    >I-is she sniffing you? Dude.. what?

    >Finally she answers, "Fucking fantastic." She says with tone of sarcasm, "Couldn't even get these limp-dicked stallions to stay up. Even when I threatened t--"
    >She looks up at you and meets your gaze.
    >Your eyes are as big as saucers.
    >This is not shit you need to be hearing at this age.

    >".. Business was bad today. Mommy is glad little anon is here to make it all better though." She says, heading to the couch before plopping down with an audibly wet smack.
    >Notafuckingword.mp3

    >"So, twerp" she continues, ditching the gushy motherly attitude yet again, " What'd you do in school? You learn about the birds and the bees yet?"

    "Uh.. the what?" You ask cluelessly, "You mean like, science and nature stuff?"
    >Did you mention you were remarkably young when you were brought here? Yeah, you don't know jack shit about any of these metaphors she's talking about.
    >She gets this creepy looking grin from ear to ear as you take a seat next to her. "No, but forget it. Probably better I teach you about this myself. Schools don't teach everything, y'know.
>You ponder the idea of having Tracy teach you instead of having to go back to that god awful school, and your heart nearly jumps at the offer.
"You mean I don't have to go back?? You can teach me, instead?" You ask excitedly; too excitedly.
>Her grin promptly shrinks and her features adopt a look of intense skepticism and suspicion.
>"Whassamatter, Anon? Don't like school?"
"Wh- N-no, it’s just that. School is fine. Miss Cheerilee teaches the best she can, and-"
>Her eyes focus directly on yours, and you're forced to stare back into hers almost as if in a trance.
>"Anon.. sweetie.. are you being.. bullied?”
>Shoot.. she's on to you. Then again, maybe you can talk to her about it? Maybe she can help you through all this and give you advice and..
>"Are you getting picked on or not!?" she demands with the slam of a hoof on the glass table. "I'm not raising some faggot pansy, Anon, and I'm not fucking around!"
>Yeah, no. She’s going to get angry at something you clearly can’t control. She barks and berates at you, letting you know and feel how worthless you are. You’re on the verge of tears before finally breaking down and admitting to her;
"YES, YES, I GET PICKED ON."
>She latches both hooves on your face and pushes it against the couch, forcing you to look at her.
>With a single word, she begins her interrogation, "Who."
"Mom, it's okay, I can handl--"
>"WHO?"
>The first tears trickle down your cheeks, her intense glare striking a fear of becoming the victim of some horrendous fate as you stare back into her pinpricks for eyes.
"I-I don't know their names! I swear! They just find me after school!"

>Her hooves release you. and she steps back with an expression of authority, "You have two options, Anon. Better pick wisely too."
>She lifts one of the knives from the table and brushes it against herself idly tracing around.

>"You can either man the fuck up.. or you can let me handle it.."

>You look down at your feet again almost instinctively.
>This is met with a swift uppercut to the jaw. From your own mother.
>You're not exactly sure what is supposed to hurt more.

>"WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT EYE CONTACT. MY EYES ARE RIGHT HERE YOU SHIT STAIN. LOOK AT ME." She screams in your face, shaking you.
"I.. I......."
>You think of the options.
>Staring hard at your mother and trying your damndest to keep them locked on her and her only you think.

>Option A; "Man up" and take care of things yourself.. This would probably end up with you attempting to show up with confidence and standing up to them. For a few minutes it might feel good to finally handle things on your own... until you get your ass handed to you, considering you're drastically outnumbered.

>Option B; "Let mom handle it".
>The moment you think of that, your mind flashes back to the night mare you had, the collection of knives, the anger and fury you've seen her unleash at the smallest thing like business with those stallions, not calling her mom, and now just for being bullied. You've seen those looks she's given you, and you have no doubt she will actually KILL those kids.. not to mention the disappointment she'll have for you for being such a wuss. She’d never let you live that down.
....
>You're not a chicken. If you can dream about going into a dark spooky basement, then you can you can at least try and stand up for yourself and attempt to make your mother proud of you.. maybe then she wouldn't hate you so much.
> You shove her off and get up from the couch, a little pain coming from your hurt back and ribs, eagerly reminding you of what the colts would do to you if you stood up to them. She stumbles back, but doesn’t say anything more than one word.
>”Well?” she taps her hoof impatiently
".... I'm going to stand up for myself M-mom"

>If only for a moment, a smirk flashes across her face before disappearing, " 'bout time you figured out the right answer. Now mommy is going to go get cleaned up and get ready for bed. Make yourself dinner." and with that she leaves.
>Your eyes dart to the kitchen, but then trail back to the table of knives and powdered sugar.

>You scavenge around the room for something to conceal your weapons.
>Rummaging through cabinets only yield the usual magazines, baseball bats, more knives, whole blocks of that sugar, random DVD's mostly starring Nicolas Cage, and 2 more backpacks.
(Why would you package sugar into a block like that?)
>You pack the essentials and throw the bag in the corner for school tomorrow.

>Your inventory consists of the following:
- Some Leftover Lasagna
- 1 Block of 'Sugar'
- 2 concealable knives
- A magazine
- Tomorrows homework

>The food and magazine you pack in case you fuck up and need to hide out somewhere and live off whatever rations you have.

>That set, you eat some dinner and watch some TV before walking to mom's room.
>Passing the locked door from your nigh-- hang on a second. Was that padlock always there?
>You stare at it for a while and eventually convince yourself that it was there, but unlocked last time.
>Not like you've actually been in that door before right?

>Entering Moms room you see her already in bed, laying on the side by the wall looking at the window.
>You make your way over to her and she turns to look at you.
"Are you sure you don't want me to sleep on the couch this time?"
>"No. Mommy Tracy needs to keep little Anon safe at night so he doesn't have any more nightmares.."
"Really though, Mom, it’s okay. I ca--"

>"GET IN THE FUCKING BED."

>The night passes by slowly as usual.
>Your attempts to rest comfortably are foiled by your new mother holding you tightly in her hooves.
>You weren't sure she was asleep until she started grinding against you again.
>This time her murmuring was a lot less present, but when she did say things in her sleep it was always the same dream about cooking again.

>"Unghh.. Anon.. fill mommy up.."
>"Don't let any of it spill out, or else. Not a single.. drop.. *snore*"
>"I feel so full.. Harder.."

>You think for Mother’s day, if they even have that here, you'll get her a family baking set. Maybe then you could have less powdered sugar lying all over the house.

.....
>Ew.. is she wetting the bed now? Your leg feels wet.

>Morning finally comes and so had she.
>A quick glance over, and you see that Tra--.... Mom, was still asleep.
>Her hooves are no longer restraining you, and are instead ducked into the covers down below.
>You feel compelled to keep looking on as she slumbers. For a possibly psycho mother.. she's actually not that awful. Sure the stress she feels everyday shows, but not on her features.
>Taking a look back at the door, knowing its almost time to go before she can wake up, you give her a quick peck on the cheek and a small good bye.
>"Mmf.. oh Anon.. Mommy loves you.. Will always.. protect.. y.."

>If you had to rate how cute that was, you’d give that a solid adorable/10
>With that you sneak out. Time to go to school and show those fuckers what for.
>No more Mr. Beta-non

>Well… fuck.
>"Who in Tartarus do you think you are dweeb?"
>"Yeah, really, you think a couple kitchen knives are going to protect you?
>"HA! This, freak. Is he even for real? Porno mags?” One of the colt’s questions, flipping through a few pages. “Examining Wood..? Celestia, this thing is full of dicks! Anon you’re fucking weird."
>"He even brought more of that white shit, too."
>"Well it’s not flour. I think its sugar."
>"Doesn't make him less of a fag."

>There you lay, on the warm dirt, Celestia's sun blazing down at you in disdain for your lack of common sense, that 1 vs. 6 does not end well, no matter how equipped you are.
>A colt looks over at the block, some of the powder drizzling into the wind from a crack because of the scuffle.
>"He-Hey, c-can you give me that stuff. Stop wasting it!"
>"Nah, let’s just finish it in front of him."

"N-no... please.. that's the only food I have left if I get kicked out.."

>"Tough." He retorts with a wicked smile as he unwraps and empties it into the bag, before holding it up for everyone to take.
>"Gotta say, Anon. You use some weird alien ingredients in your pastries."
>"H-h-h-h-hahaahahahahahahaha YEAH!" laughs one the larger colts, jittering spastically in place.
>The ponies one by one take several hoof-fulls of the stuff, caking their face in the white powder.
>"C'mon. Let’s go, maybe this time he'll bleed out and stop coming back."
>Before they can even turn around however, 2 start to cough violently, another 3 collapsing on the ground an cringing, balled up in a fetal position and crying to themselves, gripping their frail bodies as tightly as they can.
>The last pony, still having fits of laughter, watches the group slowly degrade into husks of their former selves, succumbing to Anon’s Sweets, turning back to stare in horror at the broken figure on the ground, all the while giggling and cackling;
>”Wh-wha- HA HA HA! What did you- HE HE, HAAAA, DOOOOOOO????” He screeches before falling flat on his face beside you.
>You struggle to pick yourself up with your arm, but find out the hard way that it’s been dislocated as it gives out, landing you a one way trip straight back to the hard dirt on your broken jaw.
>It’s around then that your brain decides it’s a better idea to have a little nap than have to deal with all the pain receptors in your body shooting off at once.
------
“Poor Anon. All broken up and lying worthless on the floor. At least you finally took care of something yourself.” ………… “You aren’t going to get out of paying me for all this blow you wasted though.”
------

*Beep Beep Beep Beep *
>You are Anon.
>A once hurt, but now nearly healed Anon.
>You don't remember what happened after you blacked out, nor how your little scuffle ended, as you've been in the hospital for several weeks recovering from the physical effects of having your ass handed to you.
>Over those weeks your sweet mother graced you with her presence and berating anger about “LOSING ME AN ENTIRE KILO OF ANGEL DUST” (This only being said when she had private time with little Anon.)
>Angel Dust? She must take her Angel Cake baking very serious. You promise her that you’ll pay her back eventually, and that you’ll get her all the ‘Angel Dust’ she wants and that you’ll even help her get to baking.

>Eventually she came to forgive you, mostly because if she stayed angry, the doctors would have found out about her strange obsession with this block of baking ingredients.
>What was odd about your stay in the hospital is that even though you saw the ponies that attacked you collapse, the nurses and doctors stated each time you asked that none of your attackers were found and that they must have fled the scene.
>You didn’t understand. They ran away? That’s impossible, they were choking, coughing, and all around dying before you blacked out.
>Disappointment at how you failed to properly defend yourself hits like a raging storm, but it didn't stop your mom from telling you how proud she was that you finally stood up for yourself.
>At least she was proud of you. That’s what you wanted right?
>What you did care about more was that mom said you no longer have to go back to school, and that she will be teaching you everything you need to know. Giving you a little glimmer of hope that things will finally go your way.

"So, you're my new teacher? What kind of things will you be teaching me? I missed out on a lot of the lessons because of.. well.. y’know." you say with a sigh of dejection.

>"Oh don't you worry, squirt. Mommy will teach you everything you need to know. The birds, the bees, and even a special lesson in anatomy."

"What's that?"

>"You'll learn. Don't you worry about it. Mommy will take good care of you Anon." She assured you as you both exited the hospital for a final time.

> You have the feeling you haven’t been giving mom enough credit. She really did want what was best for you after all. She was willing enough to teach you all by herself that she went to such lengths as to quit her job.
>You have a newfound respect for this mare.

>Home, sweet home.
>Stepping out of your room after a good night’s sleep, you take in the house as if it were brand new.
>Today would be the first day of ‘class’ with Ms. Cage, and you were less than enthusiastic to see what work would come out of it.
>Face it. Even if it is your mom teaching you, it’s still class, and you’re rather confident in your assumptions that you already know what she’s going to teach you, but you stow that kind of attitude away.
> She sacrifices so much to make you happy, and knowing you never have to worry about other ponies hurting you with mom around, you're more than willing to go through a few boring lectures to make her happy.
>This much held true to everything she would ask of you, even mom's odd requests before even starting her lessons. You expected new material but nothing quite like this;

>"Okay Anon. First lesson on anato--"
"Mom why do I have to be naked for this..? and what’s with the collar?"
>"SHUT UP A--.. *ahem* please let me finish Anon. It's all part of the lesson.”
"Yes, Mom.."
>"Good. Now what you have is called a penis Anon. It's what stallions and colts have."
"You mean my wei--"
>"YES.” She cuts you off with frustration, “Now, this is easy for you to understand, but what you may not know is what us mares and fillies have.”

>She begins to approach you and turns around. Her flanks jiggling as she comes to a stop.
>As she does though, you notice a sort of aroma in the air.. it's odd and smells very familiar. Kind of like the house when you first moved in, though you’d come to get used to that smell after a while.
>Before you can really put your finger on it, her tail swishes to the side and you're presented with… well it’s something.

"Ew, Mom, get away from me! That's way too close!"
>She scowls and thrusts her flanks right into your face, the slit pressing up against your cheek as you try to push away from it.

>She grits her teeth and speaks slowly, “Don't make mommy punish you. You need to take these lessons seriously, got it twerp?"
"but--"
>" this is what we call a pussy, Anon." She states, completely ignoring what you have to say. You get the feeling she isn't going to stop pressing this drooling thing away from your face until you finish the lesson.
>"Get a feel for what it looks like, feels like, smells like, and tastes like.."
"Taste?"
>"Yes Anon, just trust mommy. She would -NEVER- hurt you would she?" She says pushing it further into your face.

>Her slit actually moves a little and you stare at it quietly, slightly sickened, but you have to admit…
>You really are curious.
>Taking a hold of her flanks you slightly part them and press your face into her and take a small lick.
>You're not really sure how to describe the feeling, but you did notice that it caused Mom to suddenly start shaking a bit.

"M-mom? Are you.. are you okay?"
>"Yes, now keep tasting it Anon."
"I already did th-"
>"I SAID KEEP LICKING IT, LITTLE ANON." she starts raising her voice.

>You want to protest more but she's already backed you up against the couch with nowhere to go and her cheeks holding you in place with the actively moistening pussy in front of you.
>This was a really really weird lesson, but you remembered this was all about making her happy and learning from the best mom out there.
>With newfound determination, you soldier on and press yourself against her tender meat, lapping away like no tomorrow.

>"Y-yes..! Deeper anon! Keep going deeper with your tongue! You ha-- AHhhhh.. have to know the taste especiall-- nnh.. especially, my little boy!"

>You continue licking at her furiously, eager to show her that you really are thankful for all that she has done for you, unsure of why this lesson is making her so happy, but not questioning it.
>You have found however that licking at certain spots made her even happier than usual, so you aimed to taste that area more than others, not noticing much of a difference, maybe it's extra credit?

>You're about to stop, your jaw feeling achy from so much work on such a strange task, but suddenly she tenses up holding you in place even more firmly.
>You want to pull away and ask what's wrong, but before you can she thrusts against you hard, and your mouth is assaulted by all manner of fluids, to the point where you're almost choking on it before she pulls away and you are forced to spill it all on the ground as she lets out one of the loudest moans you've heard since the last time you walked in on her 'cleaning knives' again.

>You cough and gag on the liquids coating your mouth.. they taste bitter and nothing like the water they look like.. It wasn't pee either, N-not that you accidentally found out what it tasted like once..
>You want to yell at her and ask what the heck that was, but she seemed to be in the middle of composing herself, catching her breath.
>You really want to know what the heck this lesson is all about and what you were supposed to be learning from this.

"Uh.. Mom..? Did that feel good for you or something?"

>"Hahh.. hn.. y-yes, Anon. I'm very proud of how quickly you learned about all this. I think it’s time we moved on to the next lesson."

"Shouldn't I get cleaned up first? There’s all this gross st-"
>"NO." she nearly screams at you.
>This whole motherly to psycho thing is really starting to bother you. She seems really determined to get this lesson through your head.

>"Now. When you look at my pussy and you look at your cock-
"Don't you mean 'penis'?"
>Man you are so proud of yourself for paying attention to detail in class.

>"We're calling it a cock now, Anon. It's a cock. Say it."
"... Cock."
>"Now what do you see when you see my pussy and then your cock."

"Uh..." Was this a trick question? Hmm.. There was her pussy that looked like a slit.. but had a hole inside... and your penis was about the shape of a..

You are a bloody genius, Anon.
"A key and a lock!"

>She stares at you and almost starts cracking up but quickly covers it up.
>"Pffft.. oh this is going to be too fun.. Yeah Anon-y.. let’s go with that."
Score. You are the best student. This is now fact.

>She turns around and cranes her neck to look back at you.
>"Go ahead Anon. This is your next lesson in Anatomy; where foals come from."

>This is it Anon. This is your chance to show mom that you love her; by showing her how much you are willing to learn. Two lessons in one day? You’ve got this. Only a smart human like you could handle such rigorous testing.
>You feel odd however, approaching your mother like this. Something feels amiss, but at the same time you get these urges to keep going anyway.
>You always were one for going with your gut feeling, but this time it seems your wei- Cock. Your cock was bigger. Stronger. You like to think it’s because you are too.

>"Hurry the fuck up Anon, or I'll fail you."

>That was enough initiative to get you going. Positioning yourself behind her you see that there are actually two holes. The one you had tasted earlier and another where you assume all the dirty business is done.
>You make a heavy note in your mind to never touch that hole.
>With that, cock in hand you look at as she stares fixed on you in anticipation.
>You're not one to keep mom waiting.

>Slowly at first you guide your cock inside.. and it fits, disappearing into her lower lips.
>It begins to hit you as you push in deeper; this feeling of ecstasy as you push in inch by inch, and you aren't the only one to feel this.
>The further in you push, your mom pushes back on you, urging you on and hitting the hilt with a satisfying sigh.
>You stand there for a moment wondering what to do next before you feel her pull off of you and you get hit with yet another foreign feeling of serious pleasure. You don't want this to stop so you act on impulse and do the first thing that comes to mind;

>You thrust back into her, gripping her flanks so that she can't slide off.

"Unngh!"
>"Ahhhh! A-Anon! "

>You worry that this might have been a bad idea, but the moans from your mother are sweet music to your ears as pelvis connects with her bottom with a resounding "SMACK".
>You know what you have to do, and you don't hesitate.

>Holding on to her tight, you pull out and push back in before your 'cock' can fully escape the inside of her pussy.
>Tracy has since given up on providing her little man with hints on this lesson; he learns fast, and he perfects quickly.

>You thrust in and out of more and more quickly, eliciting cries of pleasure and moans of delight, feeling free to add in your own like a duet of passion.

>Her nethers begin to gush again with the same liquid as before, prompting you to stop as you figured she was done, but the moment you do, she swiftly grabs one of the fallen knives from the ground and twists to get on top of Anon, now on the floor and underneath her, a gleaming knife to his neck as she gazes into his eyes with a wild and murderous look in her eyes

>"Don't you FUCKING DARE STOP, ANON, OR I SWEAR I WILL CUT YOU OPEN"
>You stare at the knife and feel your heart sink as she mounts and pounds away at your crotch, holding the knife level the entire time.

>It’s as though she has experience in this kind of thing!

>Even fearing for your life, you still couldn't hold back how much you were enjoying what Mom was doing with you. This lesson was turning out to be one of the best you’ve had ever had, as well as one of the most memorable.

>Then you felt it. A pressure building down there.
"M-mom, I'm feeling w-weird!"
>"That means you're close! Don't you pull out! Keep it in side and let it all out!"

>You have no idea what the heck that was supposed to mean but you get the feeling if you mess this up, it'll mean more than just a bad grade, so you keep fucking her senseless, pounding up into her for every time she pushes down on your cock.

>Eventually the pressure becomes too much to handle and you’re forced to release it all at once;
"AHHHHHH!!!!!!!"
>You can no longer hold it back, as your cock lets loose a torrential burst of cum, filling up Tracy's insides, and coating it with cum
>"FUUUUCK YES, BABY FILL YOUR MOMMY WITH YOUR SEED. DON'T YOU SPILL A DROP OF IT."

>You moan as loudly as your mother had all those nights you could hear her past the room door, you let loose every drop you can and she receives every bit.
>You grunt a little as you give smaller thrusts into her instinctively. Both of your heavy breathing fills the house, and you two lay there for a little.
>You're not sure what to do next, knowing she explicitly told you not to let a drop out..
>Silence fills the room after you both catch your breath.. and she becomes the first to speak before you can ask anything;

>"Oh Anon.." She coos, "You filled mommy up just like I wanted you to. You're such a good boy. I give you," she pauses, “a ‘B+’ for performance.”

>You're both silent for a moment more. You're not sure how to respond to that.
>Seemingly sensing this, she then leans down to give you a long kiss before lifting up and stating simply..

>"Mommy loves her little Anon."

>You take that to heart and mull it over in your mind a little before smiling back and telling her just as softly..
"I love you too, Mom."

~Fin~