Should have Known Better (OC, PTFG, one-shot, COMPLETE)


                                            Moonlight Charm art by floatsam: https://imgur.com/AlQvYrO


                                            --


                                            >Be the little mare, also known specifically as Moonlight Charm.

                                            >Your master calls you Moon, or Charmy, or sometimes affectionately, ‘my little Charmy’.

                                            >It makes you feel tingly when he does that.


                                            >You’re one of the lucky mares—You have a master.


                                            >Almost a year ago now, a group of radical terrorists from some board on the internet stole a mutagenic chemical, one of the transhuman project derivatives, tweaked it, and set off gas bombs in several big city districts across the east coast.

                                            >Everyone in the affected areas was turned into a little, pastel-colored pony.

                                            >As far as terror attacks went, it could have been worse, but was still incredibly disruptive to the lives of many people.


                                            >For instance, ponies weren’t particularly good at living on their own.

                                            >Or doing most jobs, for that matter.

                                            >A little magic, flight, and durability didn’t make up for stubby hooves and your pathetically small stature.

                                            >Granted, ponies still retained their knowledge of course, but their personalities got a bit more whimsical and childlike, which made them unfit for several roles.

                                            >Hard to be an officer of the law or a business owner when you were so little and impossible to take seriously.

                                            >But that alone wasn’t even the biggest change.

                                            >Being a pony meant you had new needs.

                                            >Needs like being held, or feeling the touch of another.

                                            >Within an hour of being ignored, a pony would become uncomfortable and anxious.

                                            >Within several hours of being alone, they would become agitated and begin to crave touch, like the beginning of withdrawal.

                                            >A pony left for multiple days in isolation would become unstable, prone to panic attacks and episodes of emotional distress.

                                            >If left alone repeatedly, a pony would eventually develop a powerful separation anxiety and would cling to anyone that so much as acknowledged them.

                                            >Or in extreme cases, become unresponsive.

                                            >Being a pony meant you weren’t just social creature—you NEEDED to be with someone.


                                            >And so the pony caretakers program was launched.


                                            >With Google having a detailed personality profile for every human on the planet, ponies and suitable owners could be matched using an algorithm.

                                            >It wasn’t perfect of course.

                                            >Some masters were better than others, and not all of them even wanted to have a pony to look after in the first place.

                                            >Personality mismatches still happened, and there were some cases of abuse that surfaced now and then.

                                            >It was hard for a computer to account for all the changes in personality a pony had gone through, or know if a person had a dark side.

                                            >Not to mention what a gender swap did to a person’s profile.

                                            >You unconsciously rubbed your back thighs together, a small groan coming from your throat at the still-strange feeling.

                                            >Gender swaps were common… there were a lot more mares than stallions, after all.


                                            >But like you said, you were lucky.


                                            >Your master, Anon, was kind, gentle, loving, and always paid plenty of attention to you.

                                            >In return, all he asked was that you help with some basic chores around the house while he worked.

                                            >Thankfully he worked from home, so you could curl up in his lap whenever you felt a little needy.

                                            >And he made good money too, so you were never left wanting when it came to toys or games or snacks.

                                            >Compared to your dead-end office job, coming home to an empty house every day with no real future?

                                            >This wasn’t so bad.

                                            >And having someone who cared about you, someone who made you feel special?

                                            >That was indescribable.

                                            >It was hard to understate how good it felt to mean something to someone, to be able to greet your master and have him smile and pick you up.

                                            >He loved to blow raspberries on your belly and tease you for being cute.

                                            >He liked to tickle you whenever you got too sassy and gave you headpats and praise whenever you did something good.

                                            >To feel that genuine affection made your heart sore, gave you goosebumps, and sometimes…?

                                            >If things got particularly lovey, your chest felt heavy and full and warm in all the right ways.

                                            >It was a feeling without compare.

                                            >You genuinely loved your master.


                                            >Though, the two of you still had challenges in your relationship.

                                            >In particular, you had a bad heat problem.

                                            >The heats as a pony were like being a hormonal teenager surrounded by hot naked women for years on end without release, all condensed within the microcosm of a week.

                                            >Ponies could take the edge off with medication, but you had a naturally high libido even outside your heat.

                                            >During that week, your mind was a slurry of slutty, depraved thoughts, and nothing could calm you down or get your mind out of the gutter save for a good power fuck.

                                            >Thus far, Anon helped by getting you plenty of toys, but that wasn’t what you needed.

                                            >You needed a real, live cock to spread you open.

                                            >But Master didn’t want to help when you got lewd like that.

                                            >He’d said no the first time, and looked more than a little uncomfortable about the prospect of doing anything sexual with you.

                                            >It hurt, but you didn’t want to be a nuisance, so you didn’t ask after that.

                                            >Your next heat was approaching in a few days, and you eyed the date on the calendar with dread.

                                            >Anon promised he’d look into stronger medications this time, or barring that, a fucking machine.

                                            >But while those things were nice, they probably wouldn’t help.

                                            >You didn’t have the heart to tell him.


                                            >That wasn’t the only cause for concern in your relationship though.

                                            >You see, while Anon was by all counts an amazing master, he still had some quirks.

                                            >He was a bit messy, for one, an issue that only got worse once you were around taking care of the cleaning.

                                            >And he could be stubborn as a mule sometimes, as well as occasionally prone to jealousy when it came to you enjoying the attention of other males.

                                            >But that was something you could live with or manage in the case of getting pets from mostly him.


                                            >Rather, Anon had one particular flaw that was particularly challenging for you to cope with.


                                            --


                                            >You let out a soft moan as you wiggled yourself deeper into the confines of the laundry hamper, basking in the scent of your master.

                                            >You could feel the first dregs of need trickling into your system like melting ice as you lay there, inhaling his scent like a drug.

                                            >He was going to be upset if you didn’t get your chores finished but you couldn’t help it.

                                            >You loved doing this.

                                            >Everything felt so soft and warm.

                                            >And it smelled so nice.

                                            >Anon was busy working on his computer still, you told yourself.

                                            >He wasn’t going to catch you.

                                            >You shoved your muzzle into a pair of boxers, breathing deep of his intoxicating, male scent.

                                            >A shiver ran through you and you clenched your legs tightly.

                                            >Ooh, your sense of smell as a pony made this so addicting.

                                            >Everyday should be laundry day.

                                            >You wormed in deeper, then, using your mouth to pull a pair of pants and a shirt over you, you made a laundry cocoon of sorts.

                                            >It was perfection.

                                            >A literal envelopment of softness that smelled like master and made you feel comfort all the way down to your bones.

                                            >So soft… so nice.

                                            >Your eyes began to feel heavy.

                                            >Oh wait… no.

                                            >You can’t fall asleep now.

                                            >You have chores to do.

                                            >Your muscles ached to lay still, to not get up from your comfy spot deep in his clothes.

                                            >Everytime you made a move to extricate yourself, the thought died halfway, like you were chained down.

                                            >Maybe you can just relax for a few minutes?

                                            >Yeah that’d be fine.

                                            >Just a quick nap and master will be none the wiser.

                                            >You nuzzled into a pair of socks, feeling the delightful little pills brushing against your fur .

                                            >Just… a few… minutes.


                                            --


                                            >Something made you stir.

                                            >You blinked, staring blearily around your little cocoon as a yawn spread across your face.

                                            >Oh… right. Laundry day.

                                            >Everything in your little clothes nest had conformed to your body, wrapping around you snuggly, save for a pocket around your muzzle, and it felt pleasantly warm still.

                                            >Gosh, that may have been one of the best naps you’ve ever taken, you thought.

                                            >You feel so well rested.

                                            >You pushed your hooves out, hearing them pop before curling back up again.

                                            >God, why were laundry baskets so comfy and warm and pony sized.

                                            >If you could, you’d ask master to replace your bed with one.

                                            >But then again, you prefer sleeping next to him.

                                            >Nothing like being master’s little teddy pony and getting to feel his steady breathing against your back, knowing he was sleeping soundly because of you.

                                            >Master always said you were soft and enjoyable to sleep with.

                                            >You let out a sigh and wormed back into your spot.

                                            >Alright, just another minute and you’ll finish laundry before master takes a break.


                                            >“Charmy, what do you think you’re doing?”


                                            >Your eyes snapped open.

                                            >Oh no!

                                            >You sprung up like a steel trap and stood rigid, a pair of boxer shorts hanging on one of your ears.

                                            >You didn’t dare reach for it.

                                            >There, squatting in front of the basket, was a stern faced, unimpressed looking Anon.

                                            >He rolled his head slightly, resting it on his palm as he looked at you, eyes cutting like knives.

                                            >A small squeak, like the air squeezing from a balloon, eked past your lips.

                                            >It was then that you noticed the lighting.

                                            >Gone was the clean, blue lighting of the afternoon sun.

                                            >In its place, the incandescent lights filled the space with a warm, yellow hue, and outside the laundry room window, you could see the last wisps of the setting sun, painting the bottom edge with red and purple.

                                            >Oh god, that wasn’t a quick nap at all.

                                            >You were asleep all afternoon!


                                            >Anon, didn’t say anything for a time, and you stood there, awkwardly shifting your weight back and forth, waiting for the ball to drop.

                                            >He simply weighed you with a kind of cold calculation.

                                            >That should have set off alarm bells in your head but you were far too panicked to notice.

                                            >Eventually he spoke.

                                            >“I was looking all over for you, you know.”

                                            >Your ears snapped back against your head.

                                            >Ohgodhe’ssodissapointedinyou.

                                            >You forced down a whine as he continued.

                                            >“And here I finally find you, in my unfinished laundry, after I got all worried thinking you’d gotten into trouble or were lost. Charm, I thought something happened to you, and instead, I found out you just decided to shirk your chores and take a nap.”


                                            >You sniffled.

                                            “I’m s-sorry. Please don’t be mad.”


                                            >He let out a long breath through his nose.

                                            >”I’m not mad at you, Charm. I’m just really disappointed.”

                                            >Your chest felt like someone dropped a weight on it.

                                            >No no no! You hated this!

                                            >Why did you have to do that? You should have known better.

                                            >”This is the third time you’ve done this with my laundry too, so you’re apparently not taking this seriously. No, I don’t think sorry is going to cut it this time. I think we’re going to have to do something about this, and I’m not talking about ‘no TV for a week’ here.”


                                            >A strange feeling wormed its way into your gut.

                                            >Uh oh...

                                            >Anon could be firm with you at times but he’d usually chastise you a bit and give you a minor punishment like taking away your favorite snack or restricting TV time.

                                            >If anything, he was a little too light when it came to punishments.

                                            >[spoilers]Being cute had its perks[/spoilers]

                                            >But every now and then, Anon would get in a mood.

                                            >It was then that you recognized the look he had—the smile that touched his eyes and teased at his lips.

                                            >Your stomach dropped out from under you.


                                            >You see, Anon had one particular personality quirk that wasn’t like the rest.

                                            >He was a bit messy, yes, and stubborn and jealous on occasion.

                                            >But like you said, those were easy to deal with.

                                            >Rather, Anon had one particular quirk that really, truly scared you.


                                            >He had a sadistic streak.


                                            >It only popped up once in a blue moon, but when it did, you knew you were in trouble.

                                            >You tail snapped down between your legs and you felt your skin grow cold as a shiver ran through you.

                                            >Anon would never hurt you, of course.

                                            >Not once had he ever used pain to enforce a lesson.

                                            >You think it was a point of pride for him.

                                            >But he could punish you in other ways.


                                            >You swallowed.

                                            “W-What are you going to do?”


                                            >”Oh, I think I have an idea.”

                                            >Anon grabbed your forehoof and dragged you up out of out of the basket, slinging you over his shoulder and keeping one hand under your bottom to keep you steady.

                                            >He paused for a moment, feeling the faint wetness from your lower lips.

                                            >You clenched your eyes shut as a furious blush formed on your face.

                                            >Oh god, now he knows you were getting off on it.

                                            >If he was disgusted, you couldn’t tell.

                                            >Anon simply headed towards the back of the house.

                                            >On his way you noticed him grab a strange, white container, with a picture of a horse on the front, but you didn’t have time to read the label as he slung it under his arm and headed into the backyard.

                                            >After a few paces onto the cooled grass, he set the container down, and then picked you up and placed you onto a soft patch away from the house.


                                            >The butterflies in your stomach had whipped themselves into a frenzy as you looked up at your master.

                                            “What are we going to do in the yard, Master?”


                                            >”You’ll see.”

                                            >Anon grabbed the container, and after instructing you not to move, began pouring the liquid out onto the grass.

                                            >He drew a ring around you, with perhaps enough space to fit another pony or two, then came around to the front of you again.

                                            >You sniffed the edge of the circle where you could see the dampened grass.

                                            >It didn’t smell like gasoline.

                                            >In retrospect you feel guilty for even thinking he’d do something so dangerous to you.

                                            >He could be mean but master wouldn’t hurt you.

                                            >You looked up at him, a question in your eyes.

                                            >His only answer was a sweet, yet worrying smile.

                                            >Oh, that smile did not bode well for you…

                                            >Without a word, he left the container on the ground and headed back to the back slider.


                                            >You sat there, furrowing your brow at him for a moment before you stood and went to follow after.

                                            >Something stopped you.

                                            >Your hoof hovered in midair, somehow unable to push forward.

                                            >You lowered it to the ground, then tried to take a step forward again, but something stopped you, just the same as before.

                                            >There was no barrier or magic. You could tell that much.

                                            >You just… couldn’t.

                                            >Anon had stopped at the door and watched you without a word.

                                            >You turned, attempting to walk the other way, and again, that same feeling stopped you.

                                            >You trotted in circles, trying every angle, each time, unable to take that next step.

                                            >A nervous feeling wormed its way into your gut.


                                            >You turned to Anon, panic starting to rise in you.

                                            “Master,” you said, looking over to him. “H-Help! I’m stuck.”


                                            >He simply put his hands behind his back and leaned forward slightly.

                                            >His smile was like a little girl with a secret, bursting to let you in on it.

                                            >It was then that you noticed the container he’d carried out had been left just outside your circle.

                                            >The label had been turned to face you.

                                            “Horse repellent?”

                                            >You turned back to Anon.

                                            >He looked lovingly at you in a way that made your hackles rise.


                                            >”Aw, my cute little Charmy. You look so adorable. It almost makes it hard.”


                                            >You swallowed, and sat back down on your haunches.

                                            >The next move was his… it all depended on how far he wanted to take your punishment.


                                            > “Well…” he paused for a good few seconds, savoring the suspense as you held your breath. “Goodnight, Charmy.”


                                            >Fear, cold and sharp surged through you.

                                            “Master, no please! I’m sorry I’m sorry! Please no!”

                                            >Anon turned and headed towards the door.

                                            >Tears began falling down your face as you rushed around the circle, helpless to cross the threshold.

                                            >NO! You don’t want to be left outside!

                                            >You want to be with master and cuddle and go to sleep in a nice warm bed and oh god you were such a bad pony why did you do that you should have known b—


                                            >The door shut.

                                            >Anon was gone.


                                            “Master NO! Please don’t leave me!” you cried towards the house, bawling openly now.

                                            “I’ll be good I promise! Just don’t do this!”

                                            >There was no answer.

                                            >Anon was gone.

                                            >No, wait, don’t panic.

                                            >This was just a test.

                                            >He wanted to tease you a little then he’d come right back, pick you up, and be happy that you didn’t say anything you didn’t mean.

                                            >Just be good and wait.

                                            >A good pony waits for their master patiently and without whining.

                                            >You sat there, staring at the slider door while your body was racked with sobs.

                                            >Any minute now he’d be there.

                                            >Just be patient.

                                            >One minute turned into two, then to three.

                                            >Three turned to ten then to an hour, and eventually, the sun’s light began to fade, dowsing the backyard in a gloomy dusk as you sat there, alone.

                                            >Your heart ached and a deep sense of dread filled you.

                                            >Fresh tears sprung forth as you sat there, stomach grumbling, whimpering for a dinner that wouldn’t come tonight.

                                            >The light eventually faded to night.


                                            >You watched with horror as the lights in the house progressively went dark until finally, Anon’s bedroom light clicked off.


                                            --


                                            >You didn’t sleep.

                                            >The entire night you lay there on your little island of grass, desperately hoping against all hope that he’d bring you in.

                                            >But no respite came as your mind slowly turned against you.

                                            >First came the crushing loneliness.

                                            >It settled over you with a gnawing discomfort, a thunderhead looming overhead as it ate away at you.

                                            >But you were alone, with only the darkness around you.

                                            >It pressed in against you from all sides, taunting you, filling you with dread.

                                            >You sobbed and covered your face with your hooves.


                                            >Then came the agitation, the panic.

                                            >Your breathing and heart rate spiked as you felt the ice cold grip of terror squeeze your chest like a ripe fruit.

                                            >What if master forgot about you?

                                            >No, even worse, what if he got up the next day and decided he’d rather not bring you inside anymore?

                                            >What if he left you here?

                                            >These thoughts and more, all irrational, all unthinkable when you were held in his arms, felt all too real now.

                                            >What if master didn’t want you anymore?

                                            >What if you were really a bad pony all this time?

                                            >What if he got tired of you and got another pony?

                                            >What if he LEFT. YOU. ALL. ALONE.

                                            >Your heart thundered in your chest, threatening to burst as you hyperventilated.


                                            “Please please please, Master, please come get me,” you whimpered into the dark.

                                            “Please I’ll be a good pony. I’ll do whatever you want. Just touch me, hold me, look at me. Anything but this.”


                                            >There was no answer.

                                            >You felt like you were suffocating.

                                            >And then, as if to punctuate it all, you felt two icy, wet raindrops tap against the side of your face.

                                            >Your ears perked up and you looked towards the sky.


                                            >And it began to rain.


                                            --


                                            >Anon walked out of his back door as the sun peeked over the horizon.

                                            >A fog had rolled in, blanketing the world in a thin mist as he looked over at you sipping his coffee.

                                            >It was almost like nothing existed here save for you, the yard, and him.


                                            >You lay there, fur damp and stuck to you, eyes stinging with no more tears to cry.

                                            >Each breath was a fight as you lay there, unable to move, to say a word.

                                            >Everything was numb, from your throbbing head to your useless little hooves.

                                            >Anon just stood there, a neutral expression on his face.

                                            >Would this be enough?

                                            >Were you a good girl now?


                                            >He took a step forward.


                                            >It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, to keep them open as he came over to you.

                                            >He gently brushed the backs of his fingers against your cheek.

                                            >You hadn’t the strength to raise your head.

                                            >You went to call out to him, to call him your master like you know you should, but all that left your lips was the hint of a breath.

                                            >He picked you up.

                                            >He held you like he always did, your torso facing over his shoulder, bottom cradled in one, strong arm.

                                            >You flopped over his shoulder like a ragdoll and let out a whimper.

                                            >God it felt so good just to feel a living being against your fur again.

                                            >You let out a shuddering breath and pressed into him with what little vigor you had left.


                                            >”It’s okay, Charmy. You’re all done,” he said, rubbing you gently on the back.

                                            >”Let’s go inside now. I’ll make you some breakfast.”


                                            >A wave of relief crashed over you as he walked towards the house, and you felt your eyes moisten with tears once more as you nuzzled into his neck.

                                            >Your name is Moonlight Charm.

                                            >Your Master calls you Charmy.

                                            >It makes you feel tingly when he does that.

                                            >And you’re one of the lucky mares.

                                            >You have a master.


                                            >And you love him so much.