Description:
Published: 2016-12-28
Here's an ooooooold sequence done for me by Amara_Burrger
Ah the good old "smells as mind control" TF trope.
Macintosh stirred, trying to shift off the patch of sweat below the matted fur of his back. Another wave of fever had passed, leaving him feeling even more disgusting than before. Hopefully Nurse Rehdeart would be back soon; he’d have to apologize to her for the ill-timed sneeze.
This was worse than the time he’d broken his ribs before harvest season. This might even be worse than the time his little sis had cooked up that weird love potion, or… Actually, Mac didn’t want to think about that right now. Especially not with AJ visiting soon, and—
“Mac?” a voice called softly.
Macintosh’s ears twitched. Yeesh, he would never get used to that. “Miss Redheart? Ah’m sorry about sneezin' on ya earlier. Ah was… oh.”
“‘Oh’ is right,” the white mare purred, leaning seductively against the doorframe. A pink tail flicked playfully behind her, and suddenly Macintosh started feeling feverish and swollen again. Although this time, it was mostly centered in one specific area. Both ponies found their gaze drawn to the rising tent in the utterly inadequate hospital sheets.
“Is that for me?” Redheart laughed, her eyes slightly glazed as her nostrils continued to drink in the stallion’s scent. “You know, I was thinking, earlier. And the answer is yes. You do look as good to mares as you did to women. Maybe better.”
“Uh…” Mac stammered. Dangit, his tongue always got tied up at times like this. What was he gonna… what was he… Macintosh sniffed, sampling the sweet, spicy cloud drifting in the air. What was that smell?
Redheart licked her lips and began to walk towards the bed, her hips swaying in time with her flagging tail. “I think it’s time for a checkup, big boy. And we won’t stop until I’ve had my fill of the entire thing…”
Once again drawn by Amara; paid for by me
