This is a short work of erotic fiction containing furry, or anthropomorphic, characters, which are animals that either demonstrate human intelligence or walk on two legs, for the purposes of these tales. It is a thriving and growing fandom in which creators are prevalent in art and writing especially.
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"C'mon now, colts, git 'er done!"
Serenity paced back and forth, trying to keep her eyes on everything at once as sheriff of the Appleloosa. It wasn't normal for her to supervise the loading of a freight train but, considering that this particular one was going all the way to the hippogriffs, she wanted to make sure herself that it was a job well done. Appleloosa bustled with activity and they couldn't keep the train held up at the station for long as there would be passenger trains wanting to come in soon, forcing them to act with both haste, speed and, of course, efficiency above all else.
But the native-born and bred Appleloosans sure knew the meaning of hard work and pulled together as a pony team to haul the freight up, working with machines and pony-power alike to hoist the cargo, in large, square crates and the usual barrels, onto the train safely where it could be carted as if on the back of a wagon -- just a very big wagon. It was something that needed to be done and no one was going to turn their hoof away from something that would raise their standing in the realm of Equestria and beyond. As Princess Twilight always said -- diplomatic relations were of the utmost importance! Maybe that was something that they should have remembered back when they were talking to the buffalo? Ah, that was too long ago!
A job to do was a job to do and the Sheriff with her neckerchief pinned in place with her badge frowned and stepped back, brow furrowed in concentration as she directed one of the worker ponies to drop another barrel on top, finishing the load.
"That's it," she said, lips parted as if she did not want to spare the time it would have taken to open her mouth again if she needed to speak quickly and urgently. "Keep 'em coming now, colts!"
The pony operating the crane pursed his lips, tongue poking out the corner of his mouth and hat askew. But it was nothing to do with his concentration that a filly scrambled up on top of the piled up barrels, a dark red coat and striking blue mane standing out clearly against the mass of brown and black barrels. She giggled and tottered up onto her hind hooves, clearly too young to be out unsupervised, but that didn't matter as the pony operating the crane gasped and tried desperately to swing the barrel away, to no avail. It descended down and down and down even at an angle as the filly's scream cut through the air and, too late, several heads turned in her direction. Yet a pair of eyes were already locked on her, hooves skittering into motion before their mind even caught up with what they were trying to do.
Sheriff Pinto was the pony, of course, already leaping into action as the barrel fell, adrenaline roaring and blood pumping, pounding in her ears, a driving throb against her eardrums that pulsed her on, hooves bounding to the rescue. Off a box -- she kicked up high and over the cargo hold, knocking the filly off and into her hooves in the nick of time. The landing was less delicate than her rise to the top of the train and she turned in midair as they fell, letting her body take the brunt of the blow for the both of them.
"Oof!"
It was a grunt that was not ladylike in the slightest as she groaned and rolled onto her side, the filly dancing away on light hooves as if nothing had happened at all -- or, at least, nothing out of the ordinary. She giggled and pranced, eyes alight as the other ponies called out, that barrel still swinging and out of control as Sheriff Pinto blinked rapidly, fighting to come entirely back to her senses.
"Missus, missus!" The filly squealed, bouncing from her front hooves to her rear and back again. "That was amazing! Again! Again!"
Groaning, Serenity shook herself off and rolled to her hooves, head spinning and pounding. Had she hit it in the fall?
"What? What in the hay were you doing up there?" She demanded. "This is a freight loading! You can't be prancin' about like that -- y'all will get yourself killed! Where's your momma?"
The filly's expression faltered but, as her hoof lifted, Serenity's back to the train, a shadow fell over them. The thunk of the barrel finally slamming into the side of the train as the desperate crane operator fought and failed to control it, the barrel bursting open in a rain of...
...Molasses. The barrel was full of molasses. And the molasses didn't just spill harmlessly (if messily) down the side of the train but directly over the infuriated mare with her adrenaline still pumping and breath raking through her lungs. One moment she was looking at a filly cowering away from her -- but not her, the barrel! -- and the next her vision was completely and utterly obscured with a thick, brown deluge, the sweet tartness of it sinking into her nostrils as she gasped, the viscous fluid even seeping into her mouth along her lips.
And then she could see again, panting and heaving and striving to wipe it from her eyes, her ears, her mane -- oh, hayfeathers! It was everywhere! Sheriff Pinto pressed her lips very firmly together so as not to say something most unladylike, eyes burning as she turned her fury on the ponies who were supposed to be well enough able to handle the job on their own.
The other ponies studiously turned their eyes away from her as she tried to diplomatically and carefully wipe herself off but it was disgusting how the stuff got into absolutely everything -- places that molasses really had no right to be. She made a face, though did her very best to maintain her usual composure, heat rising to her cheeks even as she, instinctively, tried to straighten out her neckerchief. It made little difference and the eyes on her burned into her skin, right through the sticky layer that seemed to cling to every surface it touched, barely even slipping down her ears.
"Oh, ponyfeathers," she muttered, sinking back on her haunches without actually letting them touch the floor, her tail dripping with the thick, gelatinous stuff. "Just what the hay am I going to do now about all this?"
"Ma'am? Oh, begging pardon, I meant Sheriff! Sheriff Pinto, is that really you under there!"
Her deputy, Silent Sky, had been there to assist and monitor the loading of the freight, even if it had not all gone to plan. Even she, however, could not help but snicker behind her hoof, although her eyes remained as serious as she could keep them, her tan coat blessedly clean...much unlike hers.
"Yes," she muttered, eyes narrowed. "It is me. But I think y'all are well placed to take over, for now, aren't you, Silent Sky? I think I'm best off cleaning myself here up some before returning..."
Her deputy muttered something in return but Serenity had already turned tail on her, making good her escape as she near enough fled the scene, only slowed by the cloying thickness of the gunk weighing her down. Of course, her home was right on the other side of Appleloosa but there really wasn't any question of her being able to carry on with her duties in such a state. Making a face, she stuck out her tongue and regretted the decision instantly as a blob of overpowering sweetness mixed with that strong, traditional molasses flavour swamped her senses. It was good...just in the right doses! And would one shower even get it all out of her fur?
Wait... Didn't Axel have a shower at his workshop? She gave a small sigh, steps quickening as more and more eyes fell on her, the giggles rising as she trotted along, leaving a spotty trail of sticky molasses in her wake. It would not have taken a trained sniffer hound to track her through Appleloosa that day but the thought of a quicker shower and return to work encouraged her on, although she couldn't really blame anyone for giggling. She probably would have snickered just a little behind her hoof if someone was trotting through town coated in such sticky stuff as she was too.
Rounding a corner, she raced for the workshop, not even caring who could see her with Axel's old truck out front, much loved and well looked after regardless of the little ding in the bumper that he still had to work out. Of course, he was there, he was always there on a weekday; there was so much for him to get done and she could only be thankful that he wasn't out looking for parts or on some other kind of errand, huffing and puffing like a mad-mare as she skidded around the corner into the open garage door of his shop, eyes wide and helpless.
"Help, Axel!" She squealed, giddiness driving her to giggles. "I've been molasses...ed?"
It was a silly enough statement that she broke down even her own annoyance, chuckling and snorting as the stallion in question popped his red-furred head out from under a wagon that was in a serious state of disrepair, his brow furrowed.
"What on earth are y'all... Ah. I see. You have indeed."
For it was quite clear to see that her clothes were clinging to her in all the rightly wrong places as she resisted the urge to shake herself off like a ruffian. That would only make a mess of his shop and, well, she couldn't risk annoying the one pony who darn sure loved the socks off her and was about to be the greatest and kindest and most wonderful stallion in the entire world...and let her use his shower.
Axel shuffled out from under the wagon, brushing his pale mane back into place, and looked her over, although even he could not stop himself from giggling, just a little.
"Wow... Just wow."
Serenity squirmed.
"It's not funny! I need to use your shower -- I figured it was a whole lot closer than mine and, well... I'd rather get clean quicker!"
