The Chase

Bucky Bitters struggles to escape the airborne affections of Derpy Hooves after a chance encounter caused them to bump noses together. His real mistake was trying to comfort the mare after the snoot-bump. Little does the poor stallion realise that their meeting was only the prologue to a journey that will change not only his life, but the lives around him forever.

This story is a sequel to The Catch


125. 125

Bucky reassembled himself and Dinky in the courtyard and then watched and waited as the foal recovered from being pulled through the aether. Dinky stumbled around at first, and then she proceeded to hurl out her breakfast. Suffering molecular dissipation, having your molecules forcibly shifted from one location to another, and then reassembled bit by bit was difficult to endure no matter how many times one did it, but the first time was always the worst.

He waited patiently for Dinky to finish puking and when she stood there gasping and choking, he gave her a gentle whack on the backside, causing her to hack and dislodge pease porridge from her nostrils. She drew in a shuddering breath and then stood there heaving for several minutes.

While she was still trying to situate herself, Bucky struck.

“Come on Dinky. We’re going on rock patrol,” Bucky announced.

Dinky, still trying to get air into her lungs, couldn’t find the means to protest. She stood in place, still sucking in wind and hating the sour taste of bile in her mouth. The sour stench of vomit clung to her nostrils. She was covered in a thick layer of frost and it make her shiver painfully. She was so miserably cold that all she could think about was her mother’s downy wings and the warmth they offered.

As Bucky walked away, he turned around to look at Dinky. “Come on Dinky, or I will make us wink again,” he threatened.

A groan escaped from Dinky’s lips as she struggled to catch up with Bucky. She didn’t want to be teleported again. She was still having some trouble breathing from the first time. She spat out chunks of breakfast from her mouth and forced her legs to work. As she began to follow her father, she felt an odd envious sensation. That was power she realised, winking away and having near instantaneous recovery from the after-effects. As the thought settled into her mind, she puked once again onto her own forehooves.

Bucky tugged Dinky along on a tether of magic, dragging her behind him as he walked. She struggled to keep her hooves and he could hear her laboured breathing. “Pegasi have to endure intense gravitational forces as they fly and loop through the air. It is very hard on their bodies. We’re not so different Dinky. We unicorns have to endure a lot on our bodies too. Magic takes a lot out of us. Winking for example, as you have discovered, is not a fun experience. Feels unpleasant, doesn’t it?” Bucky inquired loquaciously as he chatted amiably with his suffering foal. “Being a unicorn doesn’t mean a comfortable life Dinky… this is why most unicorns stick to simple magic or don’t even bother casting very much if at all. They stick to simple magic, cantrips, and very few explore their powers as wizards. You have to be hard Dinky. Tell me Dinky, do you like pain? Because being a wizard means pain. It is the cost of our spell casting. This is where my family has failed with our magical gifts Dinky. Every one of us could be master level wizards, like my father, he’s a type three, but he’s afraid of pain. Suffering is for other ponies he says. He said I was a damnable fool for delving so deeply into the magical arts. My mother could be a brilliant wizard. She was born with an extraordinary gift. She’s a type three as well. She’s let it go to waste. She’s afraid of a little pain. Let’s find out what you are made of Dinky, shall we?”

Dinky could not respond. Every time she opened her mouth to talk, she felt more vomit threatening to spew out.

Bucky tugged Dinky along through the gatehouse and as he walked, everything looked hazy and out of focus. He realised that he was having trouble seeing, and he dismissed it as fatigue from a long night of magical labour. “We’re going to gather a large pile of stones Dinky. I need rocks for all kinds of things. Well, correction, you’re going to gather a large pile of stones. I’m going to relax and hope that Thistle takes pity on me and brings me a fish, because I had my breakfast so rudely interrupted by a foalish outburst,” Bucky explained. He took a deep breath and turned to look over his shoulder at Dinky. “You can have a drink and wash the taste out of your mouth once you’ve earned it or you’ve conjured your own water,” he added in a stern voice.

Dinky moaned in frustration and felt the hot sting of tears in the corners of her eyes. Bucky had been hard on her many times before, pushing her onwards to bigger and better things, but she had never seen him like this. On some level, she knew she deserved it after having her temper tantrum. She wondered just how bad her punishment was going to be.



The rocks were getting difficult to keep holding and Dinky had more than a dozen good sized stones held in her magic as she marched along behind Bucky, her short little legs forced to work double-time to keep up to him. She was miserable as she followed her father.

“There’s another one. I like that one. It has heft,” Bucky stated as he pointed at a nearby stone.

Dinky nearly cried. It was as large as Bucky’s head. She struggled to lift it in her magic along with all of the other stones. She wondered briefly what would happen if she refused, but then realised, she didn’t want to find out. She supposed that there might be things worse than winking that Bucky could do. She was sweating and she could smell the hot pony smell wafting off of her. Dinky hated being hot and stinky, and it offended her budding feminine sensibilities. She wobbled after her father on trembling legs, no longer sure just how many stones she was carrying.

“We have lumber to move too… The Scorned Mare needs more work. Well, you will be moving lumber. Guess what I’ll be doing?” Bucky said informatively.

“Waiting for fish?” Dinky panted.

“Yes! You catch on quickly,” Bucky replied.

A low moan escaped from Dinky’s lips. She wanted to quit, to fall over and let everything fall, but she knew that Bucky would never accept her excuse that she was out of energy. She had stayed up all night and endured, and now she knew that she was probably going to labour all day because Bucky knew what she was capable of.



“I’m going to sit over here in this shady spot and eat this lovely fish that Thistle was kind enough to bring me. You’re going to move lumber. No less than a dozen planks at a time. If I see you moving less than a dozen planks from the gatehouse to the ship, there will be a crack lesson in teleportation mechanics. Do you understand me?” Bucky asked. As he spoke, he was uncertain if he could even see how many planks Dinky was carrying. His eye was having trouble again. He had spent too much time in the lab working and reading. He supposed that he wasn’t as young as he once was. Not even at the quarter century mark, he already had grey hairs coming in and was having eye trouble. He pondered the thought of getting glasses. Some ponies needed them.

Dinky broke down into tears and nodded. He had been working her over for an hour or two by now. She suffered in mind and body. Most of her breakfast had been barfed out and her stomach growled painfully. Her legs were already getting sore and had a tremble. Her sides ached from the puking she had done. She hadn’t had any water, and her mouth was hot and dry. There was also a terrible taste that coated her tongue. She resigned herself to her fate and marched off to collect lumber.



Berry Punch prodded her teat with a hoof and watched as a dribble of milk ran out. She felt weird all over and strangely emotional. Before going to bed, Lyra had laid down the magical whammy jammy on her and made her start producing milk. She licked her teeth and enjoyed several lewd thoughts.

“Consider this your punishment for not telling us about what we were eating,” Derpy whispered.

Tingles coursed through Berry’s body and she giggled. “This isn’t punishment at all. I can’t wait to tease Bucky,” Berry said in a soft gleeful voice.

“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Derpy muttered with a smile.

“I think I have a new fetish,” Berry announced. “Should I be this turned on after having a foal suckle on my teats?” she asked, Berry’s voice now far more serious.

“Oh, you have no idea how bad it can be just yet. There were times after feeding Dinky that I had to go take care of myself after she was done,” Derpy answered. She said nothing to Berry, but she felt a twinge of worry for Dinky and her foal was on her mind.

“I felt a tingling sensation,” Berry reported. “Is that normal?” she asked.

“My doctor told me it was just hormones being released. Teat feeding is supposed to feel good otherwise mothers wouldn’t want to do it,” Derpy explained.

“I felt so empowered,” Berry whispered. “Looking down and seeing that little foal latched on to my teat. I felt like I could carry the world upon my back. Do you think Bucky was teat fed?”

Derpy felt her wings flare outwards a bit as the question flummoxed her mind. “Berry, where do you come up with this stuff?” she questioned.

“I dunno, but think about it, Bucky’s mom, that hateful frosty bitch, and all those other stuck up Canterlot snobs, do you think they teat feed? I mean, teat feeding feels good and requires equine on equine contact, so I’m thinking they hire a nursemaid to do it for them or use bottles and formula, which makes me spitting mad and I can’t even figure out why,” Berry said in a heated whisper.

“I used bottles,” Derpy said guiltily.

“But you used teat milk,” Berry retorted. “You were out working and Dinky had to eat.”

“Are you okay?” Derpy asked.

“Yeah, I know, something has come over me,” Berry confessed. “Poor Bucky,” she said with a sorrowful sigh. Berry could feel her emotions threatening to overcome her. She wanted to cry and laugh right now. She wanted to be cuddled. “I feel really strange right now,” the earth pony announced.

Derpy stroked the foal sitting in the straw pile and looked over at Lyra, who was sleeping with a dopey looking exhausted grin. “Bon Bon said that Lyra has never behaved like this before. She’s never been this happy. Bon Bon thinks being a mother will help heal Lyra,” she whispered to her best friend.

“Thanks for talking me into this,” Berry said to the grey mare sitting in the straw. She felt tears welling in her eyes and she wiped her face with her foreleg. “I’m crying,” she muttered.

“There there Berry, it’s okay,” Derpy said soothingly as she stroked her herdmate with her wing.

“No it isn’t okay,” Berry said. “Everything feels weird and I feel so in love with everything right now like you and Bucky and that foal and part of me wants to get laid but I don’t want it rough, I kinda want somepony to spend some time being sweet and gentle with me and tell me I am a good pony while they shag me,” she explained.

Derpy blinked several times and stared at Berry, and then she realised that Berry Punch was being serious. More tears were coming and Derpy realised that Berry Punch was going to be in for a trying day. “Pregnancy hormones are tough, but suddenly having your body jolted into producing teat milk must be really hard on you,” she said out of concern for her friend.

“I really wish we had some sweet potato chips,” Berry Punch said wistfully.

“I’ve been craving waffles,” Derpy admitted. “Waffles with lime marmalade.”

“So this morning sickness thing?” Berry inquired.

“It comes and goes,” Derpy said. “You think Dinky is okay?” she asked, no longer able to contain herself and feeling very concerned.

“I think Bucky is going to help her get her head screwed back on straight,” Berry replied.



Dinky laid in the grass and cried, too tired to do anything else. She had been at work for hours. Her back ached, her horn hurt, and her legs cramped painfully. She was a sobbing blubbering mass of misery. Moving rocks, moving lumber, carrying bucketfuls of water out and refilling the common drinking troughs in the middle of the courtyard, her labours allowing the earth ponies that usually kept the drinking troughs full a well deserved break. Then she had unloaded a wagon, lifting each sack from the wagon and stacking it neatly in a supply shed. After that, Bucky had set her to work greasing the gate, slathering everything down with goop in the never ending battle against rust.

And now, Dinky wanted nothing more than to crawl into her mother’s embrace and be a good foal. She was ready to be a foal again. As a stabbing pain shot through her head, she covered her face with her forehooves as she gibbered in agony.

She felt a hoof touch her gently and she pulled away. Bucky was not so easily refused though and Dinky found herself pulled into his embrace as he sat on his haunches in the grass. After trying to resist for a moment, she melted into his forelegs and wept. She wanted to say she was sorry, but the wracking sobs would not allow her. Her horn sparked and fizzled, sending off showers of sparks. Each bit of magical discharge was excruciatingly painful.

“The day is only about halfway done Dinky… do you want to do stupid foalish stuff or do you want to continue working like an adult?” Bucky whispered into Dinky’s ear.

A wordless shriek escaped Dinky’s lips and she worried that her punishment could stretch on all day. She was certain that a whole day would kill her.

“The day has only just gotten started Dinky… and there is much to do. Even after the sun sets, there is so much work that needs to be done. Now I want you to pull yourself together and give me an answer. Do you want to do stupid foalish stuff or are you ready for some adult responsibilities?” Bucky inquired in a hard voice.

Dinky wanted to tell him that she was sorry, that she had messed up, but she could not get the words to come out. Instead, she lay limply in his embrace and continued to blubber and dribble snot everywhere. In the distance, a bell rang out.

“I bet stupid foalish stuff sounds pretty good right about now,” Bucky stated in a flinty voice. “Just imagine how nice it would be to be sitting at a table doing your schoolwork. Or a bit of magical experimentation with Piña at your side. By being an insufferable brat, you took yourself away from Piña. Just imagine how miserable she is right now, and how worried she is about you,” he said in a stark whisper.

Her father’s words cut deep and Dinky recoiled in mental anguish.

“Well, since you won’t answer me, I guess we go back to work,” Bucky announced.

“NO!” Dinky blurted out in a gagging ragged scream. She started to choke on her own snot and she felt herself lifted in magic, turned upside down, and then thumped lightly. She hacked up large wad of phlegm and tried to spit it out. It clung to her lips and to her tongue, dribbling out slowly in what seemed to be one long impossible to break strand. Still sobbing, she sputtered and spat, trying to get the blob of mucus to let go. She felt humiliated and embarrassed on top of everything else. The hateful slimy substance was finally pulled away from her by some unseen force and she continued to spit, trying to get the last of it from her mouth.

“So, are you ready to do some stupid foalish things again, like having lunch and taking a nap?” Bucky inquired in a flat monotone.

Dinky, unable to stop sputtering and still hanging upside down with snot dribbling from her nostrils, nodded her head yes as best as she could given the situation.

“I lost an entire morning’s worth of labour that needed to be done because of your outburst. That is a half a day lost. That means it is going to be a half a day longer to finish up what needs to be done, which means another half a day before we can begin to remove the wolves,” Bucky said in icy tones.

The dreadful realisation settled into Dinky’s mind and she experienced the worst spike of mental pain she had endured so far today. More than anything, she wanted to crawl into a dark hole in the ground and die. Shame flooded her mind and guilt gnawed at her insides. She felt herself being righted and felt a rush of gratitude that her blood was no longer flooding into her head and making her throbbing horn hurt even worse.

“Do we have an understanding of one another? Don’t try to speak, just nod your head yes or shake your head no Dinky Doo Hooves,” Bucky commanded.

Dinky nodded and then felt a rush of relief as once again, she was taken into her father’s embrace. She wrapped her forelegs around his neck and squeezed tightly, never wanting to disappoint him ever again. She felt herself being swung around to Bucky’s back and she felt him rise on unsteady legs. She clung to his back as he walked, still bawling, aware that other ponies were probably watching her foalish outburst. It made her feel even more miserable and ashamed as her father trotted through the gatehouse and then through the courtyard. Dinky was painfully aware of how she must look right now with her messy snot covered face.

Miserable and in pain, Dinky resolved not to make the same mistake twice.



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