Anonpencil Writes Drink: On to Plan B (oneshit)

~*~
>With a few final grunts, you thrust deep into Fluttershy’s tight yellow pussy and shoot your load. You make a sound similar to that of a humpback (hah pun) whale calling to its baby, and below you Fluttershy whimpers beautifully, thrusting up against you to milk every last spurt out. A soft, tortured grunt escapes you  and you collapse on top of her, causing her to let out a tiny squeak.
“Uh, Anon?” she wheezes beneath you. “You’re… um… crushing me…”
“Sorry,” you groan, and do nothing to roll off of her.
>Truth be told, you can’t feel your legs. Or arms. Or anything from your neck down. You’re nothing but tingles and floaty ache, and it’s fucking magical. The sex with Fluttershy is always so great, and today it feels even better than usual for some reason. You came like a sailor into a young male prostitute after weeks of pretending to be straight aboard a submarine, and you’d stay just like this forever if you had your way.
>Unfortunately, with a few soft mumbles and quiet squeals, Fluttershy manages to shuffle out from under you. You collapse face-first onto the pillow with another groan and glance out of bleary eyes at the pony next to you. She smiles weakly to you as she sucks wind from your sudden full-body chest compression only a few moments before.
“That,” you mumble almost unintelligibly, “was the fucking best.”
“I liked it too,” she says, blushing deeply.
“You’re welcome.”
“Th-thanks Anon,” she adds with a giggle.
>She’s so damn cute and sexy it’s hard for you not to smile. You’ve been dating and screwing for only about a month now, but everything just feels right. It’s all so easy and simple, and you can’t help but feel utterly content with life. Everything feels perfect.
>Which of course means some serious shit is about to go down.
>You poor, poor, stupid man.
>Anyway, Flutterhy blushes deeply and plants a quick, girlish kiss on your cheek. You return the gesture, this time aiming for her lips. She giggles again. God she’s like an angel.
“I should probably go clean up,” she says in a near-whisper.
“Go right ahead, grab me a paper towel or something while you’re up,” you say.
>As she gets up, you roll onto your back, and try to remember how to see and breathe like a normal person. You shift a little, glance down and…
>Oh no.
“Oh no,” you whisper. Then more loudly, “Oh no!”
“What is it anon?” Fluttershy says, leaning around the doorframe.
>Then, she sees what you saw, and her face turns to a pale, dead baby duckling yellow.
>There, on your newly-wilted dick, lie the remains of a broken condom. You’ve never experienced a broken condom before, and you stare at it, bewildered that you somehow didn’t notice when it happened. I mean, it all felt better than usual, but you figured it was just because Fluttershy used that special fruitbat guano lube or something like you asked her to. But no. There’s no mistaking it. You fucker her so hard, and so well, that you broke the condom.
>Under other circumstances, you might be proud of your own penile fortitude. But right now? You’re just freaking the fuck out. One look at Fluttershy, and you can see she’s doing the same thing.
“I-i-i-it broke??” she stammers out, her eyes starting to well up with tears. “B-but… how? But… anon… I… I’m not ready to be a mother!”
>As tears stream down her face you have the impulse to rush over to comfort her, but also don’t want to touch her. Some part of your lizard neanderthal brain feels like making physical contact her would somehow impregnate her even more.
“Shy,” you say, tugging off the shredded bits of rubber, “It… it’ll be okay. I’ll just. Um. Maybe if I punch you in the stomach just right…”
“Are you insane?!” she blurts out, “No, I need to… to take emergency contraceptive?”
>Your mind blanks. Is that like when… you take a turkey baster and blast rubbing alcohol up there to kill the sperm after or…?
>Then it clicks.
“Oh, like the Plan B pill? Something you take the next morning after you pump your stump without a hardhat?” you say, a sudden sense of relief flooding back to you.
>She blinks at you, obviously confused for a moment, then shakes her head.
“Exactly,” she says, still looking very exasperated, “I need it immediately! The sooner I take it, the more effective it will be. It’ll keep the egg from being released or implanting in the first place. No pregnancy, no nothing. B-but you have to do it now.”
>You jump straight up, ready to rush out into the night, completely naked if necessary. Your life of not having a snotty, screaming, wiggling flesh abomination is at stake here!
“Where do I have to go?” you demand.
“To the pharmacy. Just ask for the Anti-Colt Jolt pill, then get back here as soon as you can.”
>You go to leap out the door, but Fluttershy catches your arm. She looks at you with an expression of general disappointment.
“And… um…” she mumbles, “maybe put on some clothes?”

——

>You sprint all the way to the pharmacy, not caring that your dick is doing that post-sex drip thing and the front of your pants look like a water-spot Jackson Pollock. You practically kick the door open and rush in  past the few other confused customers in the shop, all the way to the pharmacy window. The white pony with a pink mane and tail waiting there, looks to you, startled, as you slam a large fistful of bits down on the counter. Coins fly out from your hands in all directions like an explosion at a discount strip joint.
“ANTI-COLT JOLT PILL NOW PLEASE,” you try to say calmly and instead scream at the top of your lungs.
>The entire store is completely silent as the nurse-looking pony looks you up and down, then carefully slides the bits towards her.
“O… kay?” she says gently, “Looks like you have enough here. But I should warn you…”
“THAT I SHOULD HAVE BEEN MORE CAREFUL AND THAT I SHOULDN’T USE CONDOMS THAT ARE OVER A DECADE OLD YES I KNOW BUT THATS OKAY.”
“N-no,” she goes on as she pulls a blue box with the words ‘no foal is our goal’ written across the front, “I just want to warn you that your marefriend will likely have a few minor side effects but you should be careful to watch for any major ones like-”
“NO TIME I MUST RESCUE FLUTTERSHY’S UTERUS FROM INVASION!” you shriek like a deranged goat as you snatch the box and bolt from the store.
>You scarcely notice the stares of the other customers, or the fact that you just outed you and Fluttershy’s sex accident to the general public as you run towards her home. All you care about is stopping that egg from traveling down her tubes and implanting into her uterine lining so it can get fertilized and become an embryo.
>You this time literally kick down her front door and burst inside. In a fit of pride and fervor, you launch the box in a fast-pitch directly at Fluttershy’s shocked and unsuspecting face. She screams as she attempts, and fails, to duck out of the way. It beans her squarely in the forehead with a soft ‘clack.’
“THERE NOW GO AND UNPREGNANT YOURSELF!” you cry, then immediately collapse to your knees.
>You realize suddenly that you’re pretty shit at cardio, and might be having a literal stroke, but the deed is done. You’ve gotten her the pill.
>Fluttershy rubs the side of her face with one hoof and looks at you like you’re a crazy person, then picks up the box.
“Oh, um… okay, thanks,” she mumbles, “did the pharmacist say anything I should know about?”
“Something… about… only minor side effects… and…” you say between gasps.
“Nevermind, I’ll just take it now,” Fluttershy says with a heavy sigh. “I’ve… never taken one of these before. I know it’s effective but… I hope it’ll all turn out okay.
>Now at last your supportive brain kicks in, and you turn her a comforting smile. You reach out with a trembling hand and pat her gently on top of her head.
“It’s okay Shy,” you say as calmly as you can, “Whatever happens, we’ll get through this together.”
She offers you a weak smile in return, presses your palm to her cheek, then turns to go towards the bathroom. You watch after then, then promptly collapse forward onto the floor. After all this running, adrenalin, sex, and stress, your body is completely ready to give out. You pass out, right there on the floor.

——

>You’re not sure how much time has passed when you once more awaken, but you know you do so to the sound of soft crying. You blink, shake your head, and raise yourself up from the puddle of drool you’ve been sleeping in. The sunlight is streaming in through Fluttershy’s window, and you look around to find no sign of her.
>As your brain adjusts to consciousness again, you become again aware of the soft sobbing somewhere nearby. You blink, look around and then see a stream of light leaking out from underneath the bathroom door.
“Shy?” you call out as you wander down the hall to the bathroom.
>No response, just more crying. You approach the door, gently knock, and try again.
“Fluttershy, is everything okay?”
“A-anon?” you hear from the other side of the door, “I… I…”
>She sounds so sad, so distressed, that you decide to break protocol and enter her bathroom uninvited. You slowly turn the knob and give it a short push so you can peek inside. In your narrow view, you can see a sliver of her face. She has streaks of dark yellow down her cheeks and you can see she’s been crying. Her hair covers the rest of her face, and you can see her shoulders tremble with each tiny, soft sob.
>Your heart goes out to her, and you push the door open to go embrace and comfort her.
“Shy, I just…”
>You trail off into silence, arms still open for an embrace, as you stare in mortal shock at the scene before you.
>There stands Fluttershy, in front of the toilet which, you’re pretty certain, is full of vegetarian curry-looking vomit. Tears stream down her face and chest, and at her rear, a steady stream of dark and bright red lumpy fluid leaks out onto the bathroom floor. It looks like it’s been going for quite some time. Fluttershy turns slowly towards you, her eyes dilated and empty looking, and her expression completely unreadable.
>What. The actual. Fuck.
“Anon,” she says,” her voice a near hiss, “what have you done to me?”
>You suppress the urge to puke or run, and instead open your mouth to speak. Instead of proper sound, a noise like the kid from the grudge tumbles from your lips.
“You… you did this,” she continues. “You gave me that pill. You put your dick in me. You didn’t stop the condom from breaking. You… this… this is your fault…”
“I…” you start to say, but before you can manage another word, she lunges at you.
“You did this to me!” she shouts, her voice booming like a thunder storm.
>As if responding to the boom in her voice, the stream of blood and dark red chunky cottage cheese looking stuff intensifies, shooting out in super-soaker magnitude. You manage to side-step her, barely, and she crashes into the door, the lining and discharge from her vagina splashing across your shoes. Fluttershy straightens, turns, and slams the bathroom door shut, trapping you inside with her.
>Fuck. You’re not awake enough to have that kind of foresight.
>She approaches you slowly, head down, pussy spewing red, the green tint of vomit still on one side of her mouth. As she does, she begins to let out coughing sobs.
“You… you… you love me right? Then why did you do this,” she goes on, “I feel like throwing up all the time, I’m dizzy and tired. I’m bleeding and it can’t stop, and… and… I feel like… I’m ugly, and stupid and… and you must hate me…”
>She stops walking and suddenly dissolves into a crying heap. She sits in a puddle of red, letting it spread out around her like she’s some eldritch being. For a moment, you feel sorry for her again. She does seem to be going through a lot. Part of your brain briefly flashes back to a memory of that nurse pony saying something about major side effects, but you dismiss it hastily. What do nurses know anyway? They couldn’t even cut it as real doctors.
>You reach out towards her, once more ready to comfort her.
“Fluttershy, I don’t-”
“SHUT UP you traitor!” she barks, and you quickly withdraw your hand, “This is all your fault. Why can’t YOU take the pill, huh? Why can’t YOU have the symptoms and bleed out your crotch and feel like someone is stabbing you with a broken beer bottle in the abdomen whenever you move, huh? HUH?”
“S-sorry?” you offer.
“Oh I bed you’re real fucking sorry,” she snaps, closing on you. You skitter into the bathtub, and quickly find your back against a wall. “You just wanted to get laid, right? You just wanted to get your rocks off. Didn’t even think of ol’ sad, p-pooor Fluttershy. Fuck, the sex wasn’t even that good anyway!”
>Okay, ouch, but bruised ego aside, you have other matters to worry about.
>You fall hard onto your back into the bathtub, and Fluttershy climbs in on top of you. You quickly feel lukewarm fluid seeping through your shirt and pants, filling up the tub around you. Her tears fall into your face, blinding you as you reach up to try to pry her off. But she seems freakishly strong now, and she pins you there.
“You asshole!” she screams. “You just don’t care! You don’t care about how much this hurts me! Tell me I look pretty, bitch! You better do it because… because… oh I’m so saaaad… Why do you even liiiike meeeeeee….”
>She wails, shaking you by your shoulders with a splash each time. You’ve heard of mood swings before, but this is ridiculous. More ridiculous, the tup is quickly filling with a mixture of her tears and blood. You can feel it trickling into your ears, and it’s quickly approaching your mouth and nose. You try to fight back, but before long you realize that Fluttershy’s pill-induced-period rage is too much for you.
>She hold you there, screaming, crying, bleeding, and you begin to cough and sputter on the stuff. It tastes like old pennies and raw meat.
“Shy…” you try to gurgle out, but the sounds of her wails drowns out your words.
>Speaking of drowning, that’s happening. Right now. You gasp for air, trying to get to the surface, and it rises higher and higher on your face. Before you know it, all you can see, all you can feel, taste, and smell is red. You try to breathe, and something chunky filters down your windpipe instead. You couch, and realize you have no air. You have no chance. the weight of the pony on your chest is forcing the life right out of you.
>Looks like unfertilized eggs isn’t the only thing this pill kills…
>As you begin to fade to black, you have one fleeting moment of clarity. That maybe, just maybe, a vasectomy would have been better than this. Just shut the boys down, so this never had to happen to you or Fluttershy. But… then again, someone would have to cut into your ballsack or something for that.
>On second though, death is a better option.
>You accept death, realizing as you do that you have no womb to complain on this matter.

-END-