“Line!”

“Get me a juice box biyatch!!!!!” shrieked Bug from her entrenched position on her worn brown sofa. The mare having collapsed into the frayed piece of furniture the moment she had gotten home from doing an out of town delivery that had rapidly devolved into an all-nighter as there was no such thing as an easy task.

Line visibly cringing at the nails on a chalkboard that was Bug’s voice, the loud exclamation echoing like thunder as bitchy boss announced her return to her decrepit dwelling. The wake of her words silencing the perpetual background noise that was the mare’s menagerie as the simple creatures became aware that their mardy mother had returned home, and they had the sense not to do anything that might inadvertently attract her ire. A few seconds ticking by before Line let out a long sigh, as she knew it was never wise to leave Bug waiting.

“Yes, Bug!” Line yelled back, before dragging her hooves she slowly made her way to the kitchen. Line’s Hoof fumbling in the dark as she felt for the light switch with her frog, before with a click the shoddy space was illuminated by the limited light of a well-worn bulb. Line’s walnut eyes scanning the spartan living conditions, as she had no idea where Bug would keep her nectar or something to that effect. Her attention being drawn to a sheet metal cupboard in the corner of the dim room as the yellow mare had no recollection of having opened it before making it as good a place to start as any.

Line pausing as she spotted a lock on the cabinet, though she bared it no real mind as she assumed it was a contingency to stop one of the many organisms that inhabited the house pilfering a midnight snack. The earth pony popping the bolt, before with a loud squeak of a hinge desperately thirsty for oil Line opened the cold to the touch door. The light piercing the dark interior, and the strange sight within was enough to immediately make the mares eye’s go wide.

Instead of the expected juice, Line was met with a peculiar looking creature that was no doubt one of Bug’s pets, though for the life of her the apprentice had no frame of reference for exactly what she was looking at. The majority of the creature composed of its bulbous body that was marked with ebony and ivory pigmentation in a pattern reminiscent of a playing card. Its legs and face fuzzy and colourful as if the creature was wearing stripy socks which seemed to give it a slightly harmless appearance compared to some of Bug’s more virulent stock. The tick just sitting there silently, bobbing gently to the beat of what must have been its own heart. The creature looking at her blankly with its large eyes that held the appearance of polished coal, offering a starless sky as the only window to the creature’s soul. The saucer-sized peepers sitting on either side of a jagged facial cavern that no doubt held the animal’s no doubt fearsome mandibles, the leathery flesh tensing slightly as if the beast was chewing gum.

“Hell….” Started Line calmly, as she put up her hoof to say hello to the oddity hoping it was friendly. The welcoming approach not seeming to work, as no sooner did the mare open her mouth did the tick let out a loud screech that was enough to make Line recoil as she felt it resonate in her bones. The tick then attacking, as it sprang forward like a striking cobra in an aggressive leap that impacted Line squarely in the breadbox. The force of the impact knocking the earth pony off her hooves and leaving her on her back in a wheezing heap and the tick sitting squarely on her chest as it straddled her in a domineering fashion.

With her ears ringing, the back of her head having struck the floorboards when she fell, Line tried to resist the heavy weight that had been cast upon her barrel with panicked hooves. The soft frogs only finding waxy carapace that proved resolute to her nudging pokes as the tick began to hug her with possessive intent. The long chubby limbs encircling Line like a groping octopus, the strong graspers restraining her front legs leaving the distressed equine only able to buck and kick her back legs ineffectually.

Line was screaming, she knew that much, but the vocalisation was lost to the world though as with her diagram spasming she was letting out little more than a crackling hiss from her clenching lungs. This little air knocked from her with a huff as she doubled forward in pain as a sudden gunshot of agony shot through her belly as something cut through her soft flesh like butter. Her shaky eyes panning down to see a branch-like proboscis prodding out of her plump abdomen as the monster clearly intended to slurp up her innards like a mare milkshake. The creature a messy eater as some of her crimson lifeblood had leaked and was staining her front a vivid crimson, that seemed to grow more intense with each beat of Line’s thundering heart.

Waves of pain cascading over Line’s body, as she did not gain the reprieve of going into shock after being stabbed by the hungry hunter. Adrenalin and other hormones pumping into her system as her brain tried to give her the stimulants, she needed to fight off this haemoglobin hungry assailant, but even now Line knew the bulky bug was too powerful for her to overpower as it sat upon her like a bloated toad.

Each second crawling, as time began to slow down, the only reminder of its passage being the painful metronome that was the surprised pony’s heartbeat. Each cycle of the pump letting another ripple of anguish wash up Line’s spine as her body seemed eager to remind her, she had some parasite slurping on her blood with its filthy mouthparts. Each slurp lowering the mares blood pressure as it glugged down her vital blood in slow slurps, the only grace was that with each passing second the pain began to wane like melting ice.

The tick having the decency to have evolved a sedative in its saliva over millennia of feasting on hot-blooded prey, in an attempt to keep its meal peaceful during the feeding process. The stimulant laced spit trickling into Line’s system like the Lymes disease of the beast’s smaller cousins, as it began to dance down the nerve paths until it was pooling in the ponies’ brain as a hormonal pond of debauchery.

The toxins having an aphrodisiac effect on equine biology, which had given the overgrown arachnid the common name of a lust tick, and Line was now getting a first hoof experience with its loin lubricating effects on her shuddering frame. The mare’s motions shifting from resistance to rhythm as she leaned in and began to grind her pelvis against the glossy underbelly of the bulging beast that was slowing weighing her down with her own spilt life essence.

That thought not giving the now cherry-faced mare much concern, as Line’s snatch was a stream of musky honey, her body gearing up for one final copulating coitus that the bug was unlikely to provide. Line was moaning, her lips quivering, her reproductive tract like a wildfire as she craved attention, her body bouncing as even the slightest motion was enough to jostle pleasure from her nether regions. Her brain so corrupted by the taint of the tick, that even now the pain of her own body being violated by its penetrating pecker was bringing her some moniker of release under the nirvana-like fog of its deviant drool.

The bliss letting the earth pony slip away slowly, her mouth open in a low guttural sound of gratification, as if the mare’s soul was slowly releasing from her body like steam. The rapture of giving up the ghost leaving the mare in limbo, as she was now lost in the tactile sensation of pleasure, her brain so far gone that she was but a lump of meat that was responding sexually to a creature that cared only for the calorific content of her protein-rich blood so that it could use such nutrients to fertilize its foul clutch of eggs.

Bug was screaming again, Line’s tardiness provoking the irritable mare, but it didn’t matter as her employee would be long gone by the time she could be arsed to get up and come and give her a bollocking. The moody mare would eventually stumble into the kitchen to find a well-fed tick and a drained Line sharing some intimacy on the dirty floor. The look plastered on Line’s face locked in a look of absolute carnal glee as she soaked in a pool of her own crusty naughtiness. The glazed over eyes offering an opportunity of unrivalled delectation that would end in an orgasmic rattling spasm and a future generation of bloodsuckers which Line was sure to get more than a little intimate with if Bug was still pissed at her when she reformed…

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Line has a bad time in the kitchen when she opens the wrong cupboard and is accosted by a hungry beastie.

A commission I got from my friend  plaguetyranno featuring Line having a significant emotional event with a lust tick. hopefully, she managed to grind out one last thrill before being sucked dry.

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