Fuck this shit.
You’ve seen more than enough; you pick up every ounce of energy you can muster and make a beeline for the front door.
You hear her confused call fading behind you as you arrive at the bottom of the stairs and practically skid along the floor a few feet.
You quickly resume your heightening canter towards the front entrance, but it’s no use.
Somehow, defying the very laws of nature, Rarity has gained on you pretty fast.
Just as you’re about to reach for the door handle you’re shrouded in a blanket of forceful blue magic and thrust backwards; pinned mercilessly against the floor by that impenetrable force.
You try to sit up, but find the pressure only increases tenfold, so heavy against you you could swear it almost cracks your ribcage.
“Now, now.” She chides, trotting past you haughtily to lock your one and only escape route.
“It’s rude to leave before a lady has finished talking.”
She stands over you and glares down, looking you over and deciding, silently, that you’re fit for whatever disgusting use she requires.
“Now, if you’re not going to help me willingly, darling, you really leave me no other option.”
With a quick harumph the unicorn turns away from you and slowly brings those white ass cushions down over your face.
You splutter and try to pull your head away, but the magic prevents any kind of meaningful movement.
“Oh, don’t fidget, Dear! It’ll only make things more... mmff... difficult for you!”
Her ass is plastered in sweat and musk; you’re surprised a pony quite so prim and proper has a posterior that so clearly lacks attention.
She doesn’t give you long to think about it, though; bringing her rump up momentarily and then slamming its full weight back down with a meaty thud, sending a mist of sweat specking your face and instilling that devious odor of sweat only further.
As she makes small, delicate adjustments, you both hear a roar of discomfort coming from that slightly distended belly of hers.
“Oh, dear. All this running around isn’t helping me one bit.”
She grimaces and attempts to soothe it with a rub.
“Well - seeing as I’m already comfortable here, it would be silly to move. I suppose you’ll just have to grin and bear it, Peppermint Squirrel.”
“S-Swirl!”
“Oh, yes. My mistake.”
She leans forward for just a second, and one one little ladylike push...
frrrt
A fart so petite you almost think you imagined it.
When the smell strikes you, though, you realize it’s all too real.
It’s like spoiled broccoli, dog shit and ammonia all mixed into one disgusting, bile-churning package.
“Oh, excuse me!” She giggles, amused by your fruitless attempts to wriggle away from her.
She gives the air a perfunctory waft but is quickly brought back to the attention of her stomach.
“Gah! I don’t know what it is about cheese that does this to me! Perhaps I’m lactose intolerant? What do you think, darling?”
You helplessly watch that tailhole spread open to issue another puff of rancid veggie-scented gas.
Your nostrils burn as you’re forced to inhale it - even if you were able to hold your breath for five minutes the lingering vestigial fumes are almost as potent as the initial blast.
“Oh, calm down! Honestly! It’s a perfectly... frrap ... natural ... prrrfft ... bodily ... prrt ... function!”
Each little cluster of gas hits just as hard of the last; that same bleaching waft of rotten broccoli and putrid fecal matter.
In fact, the ratio of shit-smell to veggie-smell is growing worryingly in favor of the former.
You suddenly remember that before all this chasing and tackling and face-farting, Rarity was on the toilet.
But, she couldn’t possibly... not right in the middle of the boutique showroom...
She grunts and blows another rancid gust of shit-air against your helpless face. So hot and steamy it almost makes you start to sweat.
Her fumes are so intense the room is spinning around you, but she’s not quite done with you yet.
“Now, don’t slouch! Put that nose of yours to good use, darling! If I’m going to have to endure this monstrous bouquet, so are you!”
With a forceful grunt she presses those sweaty, sticky haunches against your face.
“Now, I’d say that’s about satisfactory for the starters. How about we move onto the main course?”
Your heart doubles its rate of beating in your chest as she repositions herself one last time and tells you...