Short Story Written by Extor. You can check out his and Arcadia’s work here: http://www.furaffinity.net/user/arcadias
 

 
Scootaloo just can’t catch a break, can she. The hard-working teenage pegasus sure was looking forward to her time at the Wonderbolt Academy Youth Camp, getting herself some preliminary practice for the entry exams in a few years. With the mental discipline and determination that helped her get past her weak hummingbird wings, she’s earned her place in one of the most elite ones there are. She’s somewhere few Wonderbolt aspirants had ever been - the Griffon Aviators University affiliated ‘Le Tranchant Talon’ mixed species camp.
 
The staff and cadets here are mostly griffons, but Scootaloo hardly minded that - she’s a sweet, if dedicated, pony, and only saw the potential misunderstandings as another thing to get past and defeat on her way to joining her idol Rainbow Dash among the Wonderbolts. And to the surprise of said staff and cadets, the soft-skinned buzzy equine wasn’t falling too far behind the frontrunners. She’s a hard-working little dweeb, that much was clear even to the older, more dismissive griffon cadets. With time, it became clear Scootaloo was well on her way to graduating better than some of the more prominent, promising griffon flyers.
 
The innocent young mare’s combined determination and unassuming nature saw little wrong when she was progressively becoming more and more harshly judged, sent onto more and more risky tasks, given more and more workload. Scootaloo took it in stride, returning to bed ragged and wheezy most every day. The teenage griffons began to mumble around in corners and shoot her looks. The cute orange pegasus was starting to become a nuisance. Were this a run of the mill flight camp, the bullying would have begun by now - but not in here. The birds over here were clandestine and refined, not to mention that the ones who found ponies bulliable were greatly outmatched by ones who found them far too attractive to casually put down.
 
Too bad for Scootaloo, she was only starting to suspect something when it was too late. Perhaps she should have paid more attention to the pillow fight she and her roommates had the night before, and the wrestling match it turned into - it went far from unnoticed how insanely ticklish she was, darting up to a high corner of the room at a single squish of her thigh. Reassured by the deceitful avians, she went on to have a lap race the next day - and there the conspiracy struck. A griffon she’d outmatched particularly often, a child of an important wealthy aviator family no less, made sure to get bumped out of the race and make it seem she was the one who’d done it. Retribution was imminent, following a rigged trial. The dastardly equine youth was to be punished, in a manner befitting the tenderskin pony folk.
 
Even the griffons who were really pissed with her and wanted to properly put her down were pleased with what unfolded. Abusing ponies playfully, in a fashion befitting the refined elites gathered in ‘Le Tranchant Talon’, easily hit all targets - it was a session of tickle torture framed as a test for the troublesome pegasus. Despite her pleading protests, the teen Scootaloo had her arms and feet put through slots in a wall at the auditorium, secured with padded plastic, all restrained a few feet above the floor. A round pillow pushed up against her back, pronouncing the somewhat toned features of her smooth tummy. A whole lot of vengeful griffons who felt wronged by this cutesy bastard could have a go at making her screech and squeal all at once, and they did.
 
The poor filly couldn’t even see when her sneakers were removed, let alone when sharp, rough, poignant claws scrabbled victoriously down her succulent, sensitive soles. Scootaloo sure had some lungs on her to be able to squeal as loudly - and as delightfully - as she did, for as long as she did, because there was no shortage of enthusiastic, mischievous, vengeful griffon cadets wishing to get their go at putting the pony a good few hundred pegs down. The ones who orchestrated it all did take up a lot of her punishment time - the rich griffon girls and guys were having the time of their lives giving Scoots a reason to blush and sweat.
 
They were far too sophisticated to descend into hating her, they simply adored the delectable tactile characteristics of the pegasus body and found no small amount of joy in seeing the naive, unassuming, hard-working pony get worn out under unrelenting titillations. Hardly anywhere wasn’t a fun place to sink one’s claws - her upper body alone held many good spots, enough for them to roll her shirt up for better access. Her soft sides, her toned tummy, her explosively ticklish belly button, her squeezable hips, they didn’t stop at that either - having her thighs squeezed even though her shorts made the girl shudder, her knees sent her into sputtering giggles, and her panickedly folded ears made for great beak-nibble and pinch material. It was safe to say a number of her assaulters emerged with a good case of pony fetish after this.
 
The ones raking, poking, digging their sharpish talons into her soles seemed like they basically had a fetish already - and it was for feet, and making said feet suffer. Scootaloo’s shrill pleas for reason and mercy fell on deaf ears and teasing tongues, and her soles quickly gained a healthy blush and numerous reddish trace marks. Even the birds that weren’t bothered by this pegasus couldn’t stop themselves from checking it out, and some even dared the lengthy queue… When else would your average griffon get a chance to exert their dominance upon a bound-up, ticklish pony?
 
It was all but normalized, anyway. All Scootaloo had to do, after all, was prove that she really was as good as she was, and didn’t just cheat her way through the sporty trials she faced at the camp. Too bad that the test of strength, wit and endurance was comprised of her being restrained and tickled relentlessly, somehow being expected to wriggle her way out of the comprehensive padded bondage, keep herself together under the ticklish onslaught, and answer numerous questions as to the circumstances of the successes that the birds thought were questionable…
 
After this was over, Scootaloo still graduated with exceptionally high marks, though. It probably helped that she was taken in by the camp’s elite after this entire endeavor, and there was nowhere near as much scrutiny being laid upon her anymore. Though as to what the pony-enthusiastic rich griffon kids did to her besides offering such charitable forgiveness, who knows…