Anon's Special Needs (Anon x Derpy, Clop, Rapey, Incomplete)

She'd been living with you for maybe half a year, and you'd long since come to quietly resent her presence. You know it's not Derpy's fault really, of course. Neither for the... Way she is, nor for the decisions of some paper-pushing bureaucrat fuck at the Royal Office of Equal Opportunities way over in Canterlot (probably some stuck-up unicorn cunt, you bet).

As it happens, the letter announcing to you that you had been carefully hand-selected based on your economic stability, living space, and kind, nurturing nature (etcetera etcetera) to house and mind a mentally and physically challenged pegasus mare was delivered by that mare herself- her last ever, obviously. Seemingly, the mail service had received one too many complaints about 'that retard' delivering to the wrong address, or knocking over your mailbox, or just plain losing the letter she was meant to be delivering (goddess knows where they all went). And you should think so too, since most of those complaints were from you. Glad to see they're finally doing something about it... Sort of.

You really wouldn't have minded looking after her if she just weren't so... Useless. She can't do anything without fucking it up, so you hardly take her out any more. Not worth the hassle. All she seems to do is take up space, eat your food, and break your shit. On more than one occasion, she's blown your chances at getting laid by leaving her room while you were trying to put the moves on a nice mare downstairs, when you explicitly warned her not to (having gone so long since seeing another human being, your tastes in women have mercifully shifted). You can't remember the last time you got some candy vag action. It's almost more than you can bear.

You put on your most sincere-looking condescending smile possible, and turn the key in the lock, sighing in pained resignation. Another evening alone with the retard.

"Derpy, I'm home."

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Your name is Derpy Hooves. Your name was Ditzy Doo, but everybody called you Derpy Hooves, and so the ponies in suits with big scribbly papers and scary looks thought you were called Derpy Hooves too, and now your name is Derpy Hooves. When you were little, your mummy told you you had special eyes, and that was why you sometimes see two of things, or bump into people. Your eyes make you special, and a lot of people give you a lot of attention because of them, you think. Sometimes they say mean things that make you sad, but normally people are nice.

You live in a really nice house, with Anon. You used to live in Cloudsdale, and you had a job you were really proud of and really liked, because it meant you got to fly all over giving people letters and parcels, which made them happy. But the people who gave you the letters and packages then told you that you couldn't take letters and packages any more because people had told them they weren't happy with your delivering. Which made you sad, and surprised you a lot, because everybody was always really happy with you- even Anon, whose mailbox you knocked over a few times, and whose letters you lost a bit too often. But he always smiled and told you not to worry about it. You really like Anon. Anon is nice. But the people who gave you the letter and packages also told you that they thought the same complaints that you might be 'retarded'. You didn't know what that was, but Anon calls you it a lot, and some other ponies too sometimes, so you think it's another name like Derpy was. And then you went to Canterlot, where the ponies in suits with big scribbly papers and scary looks told you that you were going to go and live with Anon, because you couldn't live on your own any more.

You miss your friends in Cloudsdale, and you miss your job, but living with Anon is nice too. He makes you food and helps you to get clean, and sometimes he buys you muffins if you're good. You don't try to make Anon food or nice things any more, because you always make a mess and sometimes break something. Once you knocked Anon's little black noisy slab thing into the sink when you tried to wash up after a meal he made you, and he hit you. He told you it was something very special from his own world which would be impossible to fix here, but you didn't understand, so he hit you again. But you know it was your own fault, and he was very upset, so you didn't mind. He doesn't normally hit you.

Anon doesn't let you outside much any more, either- he says it's because he needs to know where you are so he can make sure you're okay, but you think he's really just worried you'll get him in trouble if you break something else or upset someone, so you do as he says and don't go outside. You do miss going outside. There isn't much to do inside when Anon is out.

Sometimes Anon tells you you need to stay in your bedroom and not come out- but staying in your room is even worse than staying in the whole house, and you almost always have to come out to ask Anon for a drink or some food, or to look for something to do. Then you'll find out Anon was talking to a friend, but the friend will start to act weird and leave when she sees you, and leave. It's always a she. That's the only other time Anon sometimes hits you.

Today, you're doing your best to read a book like Anon showed you, but words are hard, and letters look really similar. Sometimes it's hard to not see two of them.

But then you hear footsteps, and a rattle and a click from the front door! You know what that means, and you feel happier already!

"Derpy, I'm home."

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You see Derpy in the next room, dropping the book she was reading upside-down, and turning to look at you with that big dumb happy look on her face. Like a particularly high-maintenance puppy. At least she doesn't shit herself or anything, you muse.

And like a puppy, she clumsily scampers to meet you, knocking over your coffee table and slamming her side into the door-frame with a rather nasty 'thump'. You don't bother to help her any more- she always makes it eventually, and it'll only keep happening anyway.

So she finally limps pitifully to your side and rubs your knee with her cheek in that way that makes you want to pull away- like whichever gene dropped the ball with her might be contagious enough to rub off on you. She speaks up in that dumb, droning voice of hers.

"H-Hey, Anon!"

Some days you can't be bothered feigning care any more, and this is one of those days. You just walk the way she came, leaving her to shudder in the air for a moment before turning to follow you- trying to keep as close to your feet as possible.

"Yeah."

You already know she won't leave you alone no matter how dismissive you act or how much you ignore her, so you just crash on the sofa and pull one of your Playcolt magazines from beneath the cushions and start to flip through it. It's the November issue, and some of the pages are already crusty. Looking after Derpy is like a dry spell that never ends, and last month was particularly agonising.

Derpy clambers on to your sofa and drops her head in your lap, smooshing your gems uncomfortably and forcing you to adjust your legs. How can something so empty be so heavy? She's just looking for attention though, so you do your best to ignore it and flip through your magazine, but the dead weight on your crotch is ruining it a bit for you.

"It's been pretty boring today, Anon... Could we play a game?"

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You run as quickly as you can to meet Anon, but you're not a good runner- especially since you haven't been able to run properly outside for so long. You feel something wooden get knocked aside by your flank, and when you can't turn fast enough, you hit the wall with your side really bad, and it knocks the air out of you, and you need to breathe real bad.

You slump to the floor, hurting, but Anon is still smiling at you, so you smile back and pull yourself up again. Your legs are shaking, but you limp to him as fast as you can manage, and plop yourself down next to him, carefully guiding your cheek toward his right leg to nuzzle him. It takes a moment because there's two right knees, but you find the right right one.

"H-Hey, Anon!"

But then the leg is gone, and Anon is gone too, walking back into the living room. You wobble for a moment, off-balance with your head reached out to nuzzle his leg, but you twirl around to follow him instead. He does this some days- he might just not have noticed you, or maybe he forgot you were there. You forget things a lot too.

"Yeah."

Anon slumps himself down on the sofa, and starts reading one of his thin picture books with the pretty mares in it. You're not sure why he reads pictures of girls, but they must tell good stories, because he reads them a lot. Once you went into his room to ask when dinner was, and he was so busy reading he'd forgotten to wear clothes. He shouted at you really loud and said some mean things, and you got scared and went back downstairs to wait.

You climb up to sit with him, and rest your head on his lap, hoping he might stroke your mane, like he used to. When you first came to live with him, he cuddled you and stroked your mane a lot- but he stopped doing that quite a long time ago. You think it might be because of all the things you've broken, and everything else you do that he shouts at you for. Your mummy said you were special... But sometimes you wish you could be more like everypony else instead. Being special is hard.

"It's been pretty boring today, Anon... Could we play a game?"

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There's always something with this fucking pony. She can't even back off and find some way to entertain herself for ten minutes while you have some quality time with Little Anon and Mister Hands.

But then, an idea crosses your mind. A dirty idea, that you almost discard simply on principle. But then again, it's not like anybody ever comes to check on her. And if she's so keen to do something, maybe she can at least make herself useful and make Anon Time feel a little more authentic...

"Sure, Derpy. I know a game we can play."

You can practically feel her quiver with sudden excitement, and you roll your eyes a little. She makes a move as if to roll off of your lap and onto the floor, but you wrap your left hand around her neck and mane (still holding the magazine open for you to read), while with the other, you start to stroke along her smooth, grey coat.

"Eee! Wuh-What kind of a game, Anon?"

Sure full of questions, isn't she.

"Don't worry about that. Just stay quiet, and let me take the lead."

Sure enough, she shuts her trap and lies there, smiling dumbly as her eyes rolls around trying to tell what you're doing. Maybe you should make up some rules for 'Stay Quiet', 'Stay in your Room' and 'Leave Anon Alone' games later.

Now, the moment of truth. You move the hand that was previously stroking Derpy's back down... And down... And down, until you're caressing her bubbly flanks and round, squishy buttocks. The pegasus in your lap squirms and grunts slightly, but you silence her with some gentle hushing and calm, gentle words, and she's soon lying passive again, breathing slightly more deeply.

"Nnnugh. Nuh-ugh."

"Shh, shh. It's okay. Just trust me, Derpy."

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For a long moment, Anon doesn't say anything. You think maybe he still isn't noticing you. You're a bit sad at that, but you don't mind just sitting here with him. It gets quite lonely during the day.

"Sure, Derpy. I know a game we can play."

You can't remember the last time you played a proper game with Anon! Normally you don't get the rules, and he gets annoyed at you and stops playing.

You try to slide off the sofa to go and find the dusty box in the cupboard with the boardgames in it, but Anon squeezes your head gently in place with his elbow and starts to pet your back with his right hand, sliding it along and making you melt into him in satisfaction. He hasn't petted you in so long! You thought maybe he didn't like petting you any more- just the other mares he'd occasionally bring round, but who would leave when you introduced yourself.

Is it a petting game you're going to play? You've never played a petting game before!

"Eee! Wuh-What kind of a game, Anon?"

"Don't worry about that. Just stay quiet, and let me take the lead."

That sounds easy enough to remember! Maybe Anon's finally found a game easy enough for you to play. You're about to ask how you win, but then you remember the first rule, and lie there waiting for Anon to make his move.

You're just wondering when the game starts, when you realise Anon's petting-hand isn't coming back up to slide down your back again- it's still sliding down, past the small of your back, over your bubbly-mark, and gently over your-

You jump slightly, and wiggle in Anon's hold, momentarily forgetting the first rule. Mummy told you that people shouldn't touch you around there- that's your special place. Not like your eyes, though. Special in a different way.

"Nnnugh. Nuh-ugh."

Anon's voice comes calmly and soothingly, and you slowly relax.

"Shh, shh. It's okay. Just trust me, Derpy."

You do. You do trust him. You're here because he knows what's best for you, after all.

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She's putting up way less of a struggle than you thought she might. It's not like she has any idea what you're doing, anyway. You try your luck, and take it a little further.

Cupping one ass-cheek in your hand, you squeeze- first gently, but then harder- trying to imagine that you're feeling up Center Fold, this month's Playcolt centerfold. And every month's, actually. With a flank like that, it's easy to see why. And a name like that, actually. How does that even happen? You wonder what her parents must have been thinking.

All those muffins along with your less than optimum cooking, combined with the lack of exercise, has certainly had it's effect on Derpy. She wasn't the fittest pegasus you'd ever seen to start with (though she wasn't really, as you've told her on more than one occasion, a very ugly pony), but now her ass was pudgy and round, and quivered and shifted between your fingers like a thick, round layer of fleshy jell-o. Which is, incidentally, just how you like them. You rub your hand into her behind, rubbing one cheek and then the other, or simply grabbing hold and slowly clamping down until the grey-furred handfuls of flesh squeeze into the gaps between your open fingers.

In fact, you let the magazine drop from your fingers and to the floor, concentrating on keeping the blonde pegasus on your lap passive and compliant by running your fingers through her mane with your left hand. Who needs some magically touched-up photo of some tight, toned mudpony ass. You've just decided you're going to get lucky tonight. Your standards have hit rock-bottom in the past few weeks, and this just goes to prove it. But if forcing yourself on some chubby autistic wall-eyed ex-mailmare, who can barely walk to the front door let alone give consent, means you're getting some- then your sense of shame can take a hike.

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You're not sure whether you like this or not. You feel uncomfortable. But Anon told you to be quiet, so you don't say anything. You're starting to get used to the weird sensation, anyway.

But then, Anon squeezes your bum in his hand. You think it might have been accidental, but then he does it again, harder. You feel the great pressure on your butt, the firm grip of Anon's calloused skin, and his fingers wrapping themselves around your cheek, the ends creeping down into your crack- unnervingly close to your fire-exit and your 'special place'.

You start feeling hot. Your cheeks are flushing. You look up at Anon and whine softly, your eyes looking in the wrong directions so you see two Anons- both of whom don't notice you. Their eyes flit between his picture book and your tushie, not noticing you. And then he drops the magazine, and all his attention is on you- but not on the right end of you.

So you bury your chin in his lap and clench your eyes shut, waiting for it to finish. But he keeps going. You feel him touching you, poking you, kneading your buns like cookie dough. You don't know why, but shivers keep running up your spine- happy shivers. You don't think you want them. You want it to end, even though it makes you feel good.

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You finally look down to see how Derpy is doing, still helping yourself to her hams with one hand. Eyes clenched shut, short intakes of breath- and you can feel her shivering. Goddess, she's practically begging for you to keep going. Maybe she's not as naive as you'd assumed. One way to find out.

Not ceasing your ass-assault with your right hand, you release her mane from your left and use it to gently lift her chin onto your thigh. Her eyes spring open and her eyebrows shift to slide down-and-outward, looking up to you with... Pleasure? Gratitude? Fuck, it's so hard to tell with this mare.

But she's still keeping her mouth shut, so with slow, deliberate movements, you unzip your fly. Her curious eyes (or at least one of them, but sort of lazily) follow as you reach with one hand into your pants, adjust yourself a little... And unsheathe your weapon.

You flop out your lance of meat, and with a few strokes bring it to full attention, throbbing intensely just a few inches from Derpy's muzzle. She watches the whole time in awe, stunned into silence. Well, it is pretty good, if you do say so yourself. More than good enough for a pony with a voided warranty like Derpy. You're practically spoiling her.

"Alright, next round of the game, Derpy. We're finally gonna find a use for that mouth of yours..."

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You feel the hand that you were barely aware was stroking your mane disappear. Then, you feel his outstretched fingers below your chin, shifting your head to rest on his outer thigh.

You'd been concentrating as hard as you could on pretending you were somewhere else, somewhere outside, where you could fly again, far, far away with the birds and the clouds, watching Equestria nestled peacefully far below you. But now you open your eyes to see what's next. You finally have Anon's attention, and you look up at him despairingly. Pleadingly. But he only smiles at you again, far wider and more excitedly than you've seen him smile before now. It's been so long since he's been happy with you.

The hand reaches down into his lap, and there's a low, long 'zzzziiiiiip'. The hand reaches inside, and you wonder what it could possibly pull out. And then you see it.

You stare on in horror as a huge round, fleshy shaft emerges, growing as you watch it. And growing, and growing. It's so close, you can smell it... And the smell terrifies and excites you like the fingers did. It smells musky... Sweaty... But something about the smell makes you dizzy, in a good way. But another good way that scares you real bad. What's Anon going to do with that?

"Alright, next round of the game, Derpy. We're finally gonna find a use for that mouth of yours..."

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