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                                            >You sip from your coffee cup, relaxing in one of the many chairs that are neatly arranged adjacent to Sugarcube Corner.

                                            >Throughout your multitude of trips to the only place in Ponyville that serves coffee, you had ended up sitting in every one of the chairs at least once.

                                            >The one you are currently situated in is your favorite, partially due to it granting you the widest view of the bordering street, partially due to it being backed up against a brick wall, and partially due to how comfortable the cushion was.

                                            >You lazily regard the newspaper in your offhand, skimming the headlines carelessly.

                                            >"Rogue Hurricane Narrowly Misses Ponyville, Demolishes Rock Farm: 'Uhh... Whoops!' Says Lead Weathermare"

                                            >You chuckle slyly into your cup, taking a deep swig as you contemplate why anyone would want to live on a rock farm that's subject to a minimum of three natural disasters a year.

                                            >Your musing is cut short by the appearance of a yellow mare in the otherwise empty street.

                                            >You frantically set your drink down, jostling the table and sending a splash of coffee to soak your newspaper.

                                            >It takes a solid ten seconds of panicking to register that it isn't Fluttershy, and you're thankful that there are no other patrons to witness your freak-out.

                                            >To your credit however, she does look fairly similar. Roughly the same color yellow coat, comparable height and frame, and her wings are practically identical.

                                            >She even trots with the same determined gait that Fluttershy has whenever she propositions you for salacious endeavors.

                                            >Uncanny.

                                            >This mare, however, is not so timid as to avoid eye contact and gives you a -very- thorough lookover through her glasses as she clops her way directly to your table.

                                            >She calls out to you as she weaves through the patio's tables and chairs.

                                            >"Excuse me hun! You're Anonymous, right?"

                                            >You're a little unnerved by both her knowing your name and how close to you she's standing, but you quickly quash the feeling. You are the only human in Ponyville after all.

                                            "Yeah, that's me. Can I help you?"

                                            >"Oh wonderful! I'm Mrs. Shy, Fluttershy's mom. I had just been dying to meet you, she's told me so much about you."

                                            >The blood in your veins turns to ice, and you would have a lap full of coffee if you had not already set your cup down.

                                            >You urge yourself to give a response, praying that their similarities stop at physical appearances.

                                            "H-hi. That means her first name is Flutter t-then. Ha ha."

                                            >She gives you a warm, motherly smile that eases your fears, if only partially.

                                            >"Yes hun, it does. She's such a sweet mare, don't you think?"

                                            >You have to hold back a grimace while you answer.

                                            "She's... very kind."

                                            >"Aww, aren't you precious! I can see why she likes you so much."

                                            "W-well, she's the Element of Kindness--"

                                            >"And mommy's little foal worked very hard to get that title, yes. She was actually the one who sent me down here, she even knew which table you'd be sitting at. How cute!"

                                            "Yeah, she's pretty... great at that sort of stuff."

                                            >Mrs. Shy gives a knowing chuckle at that, and takes a couple steps closer to you.

                                            >"Mhmm, she learned from the best. Now, my sweet little Flutter had actually asked for a teensy favor from me. Would you mind sitting still for a moment?"

                                            >Warning sirens flash in your head, and you glance frantically into the woefully empty street for the salvation of any passersby.

                                            >"Ohoho please hun, it's nothing like that. It'll only take a second~."

                                            >You brace yourself for impact, but none comes. Opening your eyes shows that she is simply sat down a foot away from you, intensely studying your face and body.

                                            "Wh-what...?"

                                            >She doesn't answer, her piercing gaze leaving you feeling naked.

                                            >You stare back, anxiously awaiting an attempt at assault.

                                            >A minute passes and she blinks, shaking her head as if exiting a trance.

                                            >"Phew! Sorry sweetie, it normally doesn't take me that long, but I've never used it on a human before. Most ponies have fairly short lists."

                                            "...Used what?"

                                            >"My stare! All of the Shy mares have stares, you know."

                                            "Oh? I thought 'The Stare' was supposed to mind control me or something. That's what Fluttershy said at least."

                                            >"No, nothing like that. My stare is a little more..."

                                            >Her eyes narrow and she licks her lips, her voice adopting a husky, sultry tone.

                                            >"Subtle."

                                            >Sensing the mood of the conversation shift into both familiar and unwanted territory, you stand up to leave.

                                            "Well, it's been great meeting you Mrs. Shy but--"

                                            >"Skindentation. Absolute territory. Stuck in wall. Flora fauna. Hypnosis."

                                            >You freeze, turning to meet the half-lidded gaze of the mature pony who rests casually on her haunches.

                                            >"Sit back down, -hun-."

                                            >Seeing no alternatives, you oblige, in awe.

                                            "H-how did you..."

                                            >As you sit down, she stands up, sashaying over until her head is inches from your lap.

                                            >She speaks in a throaty whisper, her hoof toying with her necklace as she spears you with her gaze of intent.

                                            >"I know, that you know, that I know what you like sweetie, so let's skip to the good part. You're going to fuck my daughter. You're going to give me grandfoals or Fluttershy and I are going to have a nice, long chat about all your... ~nasty~ fetishes."

                                            "You w-wouldn't..."

                                            >"Ohoho, Anonymous. Oh I would. You wouldn't deny a poor mother her daughter's happiness, would you? You wouldn't want Fluttershy's fetish guesses to become stunningly accurate, would you?"

                                            >She pushes her nose into your crotch, smiling knowingly. To you, it looks more like a baring of fangs.

                                            >"Just say yes Anonymous. Or I'll have to resort to more... desperate measures."

                                            >You gulp loudly. The street is still dangerously empty. She wouldn't try something in broad daylight would she?

                                            "Look, Mrs. Shy, I t-think you've got the wrong--"

                                            >Your weak attempt at a denial ends in a yelp as Mrs. Shy lightly nips at your penis through your pants.

                                            >"No, you look at -me- Anonymous."

                                            >She opens her mouth wide, her narrowed eyes still burning lewdly as her tongue lolls out.

                                            >"Fwaah~. Open moufs. Long tonguesh."

                                            >She draws her dexterous, sopping tongue along the front of your crotch, coating it in slobber. A thick strand links the two as she draws back to regard her handiwork, her gaping maw wafting hot, humid breaths over your crotch.

                                            >"Saliva shtring. Spit bubblesh."

                                            >Your already blushing cheeks turn crimson, and you nervously scratch the back of your head.

                                            "M-Mrs. Shy, please..."

                                            >She closes her mouth with a wink and puts her front hooves on your thighs, standing herself up until she's a foot from your face.

                                            >"Come on Anon, you're not fooling anypony. I know -exactly- what gets you off. Either Fluttershy can find out, or we can keep it between us..."

                                            "B-but... I don't..."

                                            >"Deepthroat. Gagging. Cum in throat."

                                            >Her already narrowed eyes crease deeper, and she leans in to whisper into your ear.

                                            >"Younger male. Mature. Mother and son. Pearl necklace. Cum on glasses."

                                            >You stiffen. Twice.

                                            >"Do you want me to keep naming your fetishes or are you going to do something about it?"

                                            >Your head lowers in defeat, and you cover your face in shame.

                                            "F-fine."

                                            >"Mmm. Good choice hun."

                                            >She gives your ear a nibble and backs off, her four hooves landing on the ground.

                                            >"Follow me then, my house is two blocks over."

                                            >She trots off, her tail hiked high enough to give you an eyeful.

                                            >Without even turning to look at you, she rattles off two more unerring hits.

                                            >"Tail flagging. Presenting hindquarters."

                                            "I'm g-going, okay!"

                                            >You adjust your pants and swear under your breath, abandoning your coffee as you follow her.

                                            >She chuckles, her full, round haunches swaying back and forth as she walks.

                                            >"Ha! You boys are just too easy to tease, you're just like my son."

                                            >The full scope of the depravity that you've been forced into dawns on you, as well as the implications of her foremost statement.

                                            "Wait, your house? Fluttershy lives on her own."

                                            >"Oh hun, I don't just let -any- stallion plow my daughter. I have to make sure you're going to be a good fit."

                                            >You stop in your tracks, mentally recalculating how boned you are and how likely running away will solve the problems at hand.

                                            >Both figures are not looking good.

                                            >Mrs. Shy notes your inaction, turning to stare at you over her sizeable rump.

                                            >"What's the matter, hun?"

                                            >She spreads her hind legs out in a wide stance, lifting her tail completely out of the view of her genital contractions.

                                            >"Getting cold feet?"

                                            >You stare defeated at the now-glistening cobbles beneath her plot, wondering why you still haven't seen any other ponies on the street today.

                                            "No ma'am."

                                            >"No, 'mommy.'"

                                            >Your eyes hysterically flick between the mature pony's winking face and winking crotch, trying and failing to find any semblance of levity.

                                            "Uh, I'm n-not saying that."

                                            >"And I'm sure Fluttershy will be ecstatic to learn about your piss fetish."

                                            "No m-mommy."

                                            >"Good boy."