Marital Bliss (LET'S MAKE FUN OF RARITAN!)

>You are the Anon from A Helping Hand.
>Today you don't have much to do.
>Which is a good thing because you're having a bit of trouble getting up this morning.
>This is because you are dead.
>Again.
>Rarity groans and rolls over in her sleep next to you.
>As soon as she touches your cold, hard corpse she wakes up.
>She shakes you with a hoof, then sighs.
>"I knew I forgot to charge him overnight..."
>She fumbles around in bed, looking for your charger.
>She realises it's on the top of her head where she left it.
>She pulls down your pants and inserts her horn into your anus.
>She rams her thick, blunt implement into your rectum until she ejaculates her delicious, marshmallow-flavoured, life-giving magic all over your insides.
>You take your first breath of the day.
>Wonderful.
"Thank you, honey. What would I do without you?"
>She sneers and rolls over to fetch a cigarette out of her pack nearby.
"Uh... Um... Darling, didn't we talk about your habits...?"
>You only just got her to stop drinking.
>So she took up heroin instead.
>Once you got her off that, she took up smoking, which is admittedly much better for her health.
>But you can't help but admonish her for her vices.
>She seems to ignore you and finishes lighting up her cigarette with her horn.
>She closes her eyes in delight as she takes her first drag of the day.
>The nicotine high sates her screaming nerves and gives her a slight euphoria.
>She opens her eyes again as she lets out her smoke right in your face.
>You don't like it when she does that.
>She looks at your worried expression and pouts.
>"Tch. Fine. Yet another pleasure that you deny me."
>She grabs your hand and jabs the red hot tip of the cigarette into your palm.
>You yelp in pain and instinctively try to pull your hand away from her, but she holds it fast.
>"Dear, Rarita- Uh... Anon. What have I told you about lecturing me?"
"D-don't do it! I'm sorry!"
>"I'm sorry, what?"
"I'm sorry M-mistress Rarity!"
>She releases your hand and you pull it back, clutching it to your chest defensively.
>"Good. Now don’t let me catch you doing it again! I’ll let you off with this today since you’re probably still groggy.”
“Yes, I’m sorry! Thank you for your mercy!”
>”Well I am the Element of Generosity for a reason. Now go and fetch me my coffee. There’s a good boy.”
>You slink out of bed.
>You’re so lucky to have such a fantastic mare as Rarity.
>She’s so kind and generous.
>She brought you back from the dead this morning!
>No girl on Earth would give you that kind of special treatment.
>You get out of bed and walk downstairs to the kitchen on the lower floor of the boutique.
>You prepare the coffee in the cafetiere and pick up the whiskey from the cupboard.
>Yeah, you said Rarity had stopped drinking, but she assured you that when it’s in coffee it doesn’t count.
>It just makes it “Irish.”
>And she has drunk a lot more booze than you have, so she knows what she’s talking about.
>You start to bring her coffee upstairs when there’s a knock at the door.
>The knock startles you and you trip on the stairs.
>You fall down and spill scolding hot coffee all over your face.
>You die.
>You lie there until Sweetie Belle finds your body in a crumpled heap of broken bones.
>”RARITY! ANON’S FAINTED AGAIN!”
>A thunderous howl emanates from Rarity’s bedroom.
>Rarity’s heavy footsteps resound throughout the house as she stomps her way to your body.
>”If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times! The postman comes early on Saturdays!”
>She charges you back up again.
>Your bones knit together and your burns are healed.
>Sweetie Belle averts her eyes.
>You are resurrected.
>You look up into the glittering sapphire eyes of your alabaster saviour.
>She’s definitely your guardian angel.
“Oh, Rarity... Thank yo-“
>She cuts you off as she slaps you with a marshmallow hoof across the cheek.
>Her immaculate pedicure leaves a nasty red welt on your face.
>”Get back in the kitchen, Anon, and make me another coffee! You know how I can’t wake up properly without my coffee!”
“Y-yes, of course! I’m sorry!”
>You stand up on shaky legs and scamper off to the kitchen.
>How could you have been so callous?!
>You shouldn’t have died then.
>You should have been more dedicated to Rarity.
>Then maybe she’d look at you when you make love...
>”ANOOOOOOOOOOOON!”
>Rarity’s screaming snaps you out of your reverie.
>You haven’t finished making more coffee!
>You use the old dregs from the pot you made earlier, and top it up with more whiskey than usual.
>Looking at it, it seems to be about ¾ alcohol with a shot of java.
>It’s not right, but you don’t have a choice.
>Rarity does not like to be kept waiting.
>You rush into her inspiration room where she is sitting down, waiting for you.
>You step into the room and smile at her.
>She doesn’t move an inch.
>She just looks at the doorway that you entered from.
>You meekly move over to her desk and place her drink down on it.
>She still doesn’t move.
>You back out the room, keeping your eyes on your mistress.
>Her unimpressed scowl says that you did a good job.
“T-thank you... I love you.”
>She lets out an exasperated breath and turns around to drink her coffee.
>You hover at the doorway , eager to see whether she likes your abominable concoction or not.
>She takes a sip.
>Her ears perk up instantly.
>”Well what do you know...? Anon found out my special mix...! Turns out he can do something right!” She whispers.
>Yesssss!
>You fist pump silently.
>You’re gonna get snuggles tonight for this!
>You’re going to have to remember that ratio for tomorrow’s coffee.
>What was it again?
>Darn, you can’t remember.
>But it’s ok!
>You’re so pleased with yourself it doesn’t matter!
>You’re so happy, you could die!
>Which you promptly do.
>You collapse in the hallway with a thud.
>Rarity sighs and gets up from her desk.
>After your third recharge of the day, it’s time for your daily fetish attempt.
>You head to the bathroom to prettify yourself and are greeted by the yellow demon that insists on tormenting you on this plane.
>”Hi Anon! How are you feeling today?”
>Here she is with her incessant cheeriness.
“Now that you’re here, like death warmed up. Get on with it.”
>She smiles broadly with an audible *squee* and reaches into her saddlebags.
>She pulls out a bag of marshmallows.
>She flies over to the bath tub and sets up a campfire...?
>She starts placing the marshmallows on skewers that she brought with her and holds them over the fire.
>Once they’re molten and gooey, she sandwiches them between two pieces of chocolate and crackers.
>She squishes the creation together between her hooves then presents it to you.
>”I... I know you like Rarity’s marshmallow smell, so... I was wondering if you liked smores.”
>You take the tasty morsel from Fluttershy.
>You can’t help but admire the gooey white centre that oozes that warm liquid from its centre.
>You squeeze the plush marshmallow between your fingers.
>It yields to your touch, but is firm and pliant too.
>More of the molten marshmallow seeps out of a crack in its soft coat.
>The scent fills your nostrils.
>You’re as hard as diamonds right now.
>Fluttershy looks up at you with a hopeful smile.
>You snap yourself out of your trance and stoop down to her.
“No, Fluttershy. Smores aren’t my fetish. And I hate you doing this. Go away and leave me alone.”
>She looks down to the ground, defeated.
>”O-oh... I’m sorry... I only thought... I mean, I didn’t want to know if it was your fetish or not... I just wanted to...”
>She mumbles into the pink wave of hair that falls across her face and scuffs the tiles on the bathroom floor with a hoof.
>This mare.
>This infuriating mare.
>Doesn’t she know that you have a relationship already?
>You’re more than happy with Rarity.
“I mean it, Fluttershy. Go away! If Rarity finds out you were here again, I’ll get whipped!”
>”B-but domestic abuse is a serious crime! You should leave her! You could come with me! We could live together, and do the things that you like to do!”
>The idea sickens you.
>You like things that Rarity doesn’t like, like 4chan and the internet.
>But you’d never dream of pursuing them because she forbids you to do so.
>The concept of being able to do what you want... it’s wrong!
“Get out of here, Fluttershy before I... HNNNGH!”
>You clutch your heart.
>Yeah, you’re dying again.
>Down you go.
>Whatever being that has decided to toy with your life like this probably sees it as some kind of joke.
>You’re dead on the bathroom floor with a panicked Fluttershy.
>She can’t charge you back up, and she can’t go and get Rarity.
>She considers picking you up and taking you back to her house out the window, but you’re far too heavy.
>She briefly muses on the topic of whether your fetish is necrophilia, but decides that she couldn’t go through with it anyway.
>So instead she flutters away, out of your life.
>Or unlife in this case.
>And there you lie for the rest of the day.
>All in all it was a pretty good day.
>When Rarity found you it was time for bed.
>She didn’t let you have snuggles.
>It made you sad, but you’re still so lucky to have her.
>In fact, you think you’re the luckiest man in Equestria.