The halls of Canterlot High are filled with all manner of sounds, some certainly lewder than others. Like the wet, sloppy sound of two lovers engaged in a bit of mouth-to-mouth affection, or the breathless giggles accompanying lurid, whispered promises. But there are normal sounds as well, like the bang and clang of metal lockers. And one in particular.

Rattle, rattle, rattle goes the locker in its frame, accompanied by the girlish grunts of a clearly exasperated young woman. After several futile attempts, the door finally swings open, Flitter giving a heavy, unsatisfied sigh. She gropes about with her right hand, pulling her books and materials from the box. And then comes the challenge.

“Um,” the pretty airhead frowns, looking between the locker door, her arm full of books, and her left arm. The one currently wrapped up tight in a sling. Biting her lip, she glances back and forth at the three points of interest, gears obviously turning but not catching. The blue-haired bimbette struggles to cradle her things under her left arm, but her marvelously massive mamms seem quite content to block such an action. “Omigawd, are you serious?”

Just as Flitter is about to break out the power pout, the locker door shuts on its own. Purple, doe-eyes look up in surprise as she realizes that it wasn’t a specter of a student who died without achieving even one orgasm, but a tall, lightly built young man. A smile dances across her lips as her cheeks color the same shade as her bow. “Chippy, hi!”

Microchips forces a smile, sliding his glasses back up onto his nose. “Uh, hey, Flitter.” He stutters around for a few seconds while Flitter smirks, eyeing up the boy. He’s filled out quite a bit recently, nothing overwhelming, but still firm and solid looking. “You, you looked like you could use an extra pair of hands this morning.”

“Well aren’t you a sweetie!” Flitter’s voice comes out on a breathy giggle, while the girl bats her eyes and bites her lip. She makes a small waving motion with her left elbow and adds, “But I could use some help, if you’d be willing.”

“Oh, yes, of course!” the steadily more confident young man says. Without asking, he reaches out and takes the books from her, much to Flitter’s delight. The two make their way down the hall, through the crowd of students. Flitter hangs back a half step behind Microchips, protecting her left arm until they’re free of the throng, and then steps up beside him.

“Hey,” she says with a gentle smile, nudging the taller boy lightly with her shoulder. “Thanks for carrying my books again!”

The young man nods, doing his best to seem confident as he smirks, “Yeah, uh, my pleasure?”

Flitter smiles, sighs and then wets her lips. “So, it seems like you’ve been hanging around my locker for most of the week now, ever since I broke my arm, in fact.” Raising an eyebrow, the girl leans in closer and grins up at him. “Are you looking out for me?”

And just like that, Microchips is a stuttering mess again. But that’s enough of an answer for Flitter, who giggles again and straightens herself up. “That’s okay; I think it’s adorable when a boy helps a girl out when she needs it; really gentlemanly.” There’s a pause, and then a knowing smirk. “But that kind of goes two ways, y’know? Girls should help boys when they can too…”

Reaching across her body, Flitter gives Microchips a nudge with her right arm. There’s a surprising amount of force behind it, enough that the young man nearly drops her books. Instead, he stumbles to the side, and finds his back against the locker. Flitter steps in close, her legs on either side of his in a standing straddle, skin a breath away while her right hand cradles his cheek.

“Tell you what, Chippy, come by when my arm is all healed up, and we can talk about a reward for you being so,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, “diligent. Sound good?”

The boy gulps and nods and Flitter sighs happily. “Good. Now, class.”

And so it goes. Week in and week out, time flowing like a river unti-

Actually that’s not what happens at all.

Three hours after the school day starts, Flitter forces her way into the nurse’s office. “Nurse Wetheart! I need your help!”

“Red. Heart,” comes an irritated voice from behind a curtain. “Give me a minute to finish up, I’ll be right with you.”

Flitter puffs out her cheeks, but pulls up a seat, listening to the steady thrum of machinery above the room, and a dull hum coming from, somewhere. After five minutes of Flitter tapping her heels against the floor, the petite pediatric tyrant at last steps out from behind the curtain and moves to her desk. She peels off her long gloves, dropping them onto the desk and raises an eyebrow.

“Flitter, isn’t it? To what do I owe the visit?”

Fixing the nurse with a steady and even stare, Flitter declares, “I need you to fix my arm.”

“Ah, of course,” Nurse Redheart says, glancing down at the girl’s left side. “And how do you propose that I do that?”

“Don’t know, don’t care, make it happen,” the girl says with a flip of her hair. And a sudden jerk backwards as the diminutive devil drops her palm on the table with resounding thud.

“Who exactly do you think you are?” the nurse snaps, her lips curled up into a sneer as she towers over the quivering girl. “Coming into my office, demanding something from me? This is my space; here, I’m the one in charge, do you understand?”

“Yes?”

“Good,” the nurse sighs, leaning back in her chair and pulling on a fresh pair of gloves. She sighs and fixes the girl with a cool stare. “Now, you want to facilitate bone healing, right?”

Flitter bobs her head and Nurse Redheart turns about in her chair. “Well, maybe we can do something about that. How are you with taking fluids?”

“Good, I guess?” Flitter shrugs as the nurse sets about combining, something. “I mean, all I’m really interested in is-”

Once again, the girl is cut off by a loud thud as the nurse places a beaker in front of her. “Drink that.”

The girl’s lip curls a bit as she looks over the opaque white substance in the glass. She picks it up and sniffs a bit, her sneer deepening as she gets a better look. “What’s this glop?”

“Do you want to complain or recover?” Flitter sighs a little at that, swirling the thick liquid around for a moment more. “Now, if you please. All at once is best.”

With Nurse Redheart watching her so intently, and considering that it’s not like she has any other options, Flitter can only roll her eyes and do as she’s told. And it’s awful. Terrible. So thick that it’s utterly gag-worthy!

Actually, it’s not that bad: kind of sweet, kind of salty, kind of a stick-to-your-ribs sort of meal, but in a drink. And so Flitter gulps it down, all of it, even around the rough spots where it feels like she’s going to need to stop, until, at last, she places the empty beaker back down on table, gives a rough cough, and then stares at the nurse.

“There we go,” the Nurse says with a smirk. “Feeling any better?”

“Not really.”

“Good. Because if you said you did, I would have called you a liar and sent you on your way. Since you didn’t, lets get you squared away with a few more batches.”

Getting up, the nurse makes her way back towards the curtain again. She fingers something in her oversized jacket pocket, a steady hum springing to life. “Pip, I’m going to need your help for another hour or so.”

A boyish whine can be heard, one that sends shivers down Flitter’s spine.

“Don’t you worry; we’ll have you up and cheering again by Wednesday next week.”

What on earth had she just stepped into?

===

Monday afternoon rolls around and Microchips is grinning like he’d just won the lottery. Which, considering his situation, he may as well have. Today, when he stopped by Flitter’s locker, he had seen her carrying her own books. With both hands! And, she had given him a knowing look and told him to meet her behind the gym after school.

Certainly not one to turn down such an obvious offer, the lanky young man makes his way around to the backside of the school. It doesn’t take long to find Flitter, who is leaning up against the wall, all smiles and sugar. “Hey there, handsome; I was wondering if you were going to show up.”

“And miss you?” the boy says with a fair amount of charm, enough to make the usually flippant Flitter color a bit.

“Cute. But, let’s get to real reason we’re here, okay?” Flitter asks, coaxing him closer with a grin and a crook of her finger. Microchips follows along with his silly grin, which only spreads wider as the girl squats down and unzips his pants. She closes her eyes, breathes, and makes a happy sigh. “Oh yeah, that’s a good one.”

Wetting her lips, Flitter fishes out his dick and begins to stroke it, then suckle, and then swallow. Her head bobs as her left hand pumps enthusiastically, while her tongue continues to run up and down the length, then around the boy’s glans. Under her skillful sucking, Microchips doesn’t have a chance.

He blows. She swallows, once, twice, three times, never taking her eyes off of him. They stay in their positions for a while longer, Flitter gently teasing him back to a state of half-hardness before finally pulling her head back.

“That was-” the boy begins, before Flitter quiets him with a sad smile.

“All?” The single word hangs in the air for a long moment as she sighs. “Chippy, please, I’m going to need a little more spunk than that.” Wrapping her soft hand around his dick, she starts leisurely pumping him again. “I mean, I can do simple things like this, but the nurse says I’m not going to be able to get back on the cheer team until my arm’s completely healed. That means this little girl needs help getting lots, and lots, of protein and minerals.”

Batting her eyes again, she plants a kiss on the tip of his cock, whispering, “You are a gentleman, right?”

Was there ever any question? Microchips smiles as he tangles his fingers in the hair behind her bow. “Yeah. I am.”

Flitter’s smile could light up the sky. “Good.”

So it is that an increasingly familiar sound joins in with the chorus of erotic elements filling the audible space in and around CHS.