Can Misty Come?

It was not a normal night at the Crystal Brighthouse. Things had gotten way out of hoof. There was a wild commotion going on downstairs, somepony might even call it a clamor. Misty had been resting peacefully in her secluded bedroom upstairs, the cool summer ocean breeze drifting through her open window. The light from the full moon painting itself across the foot of her bed. But now her sleep had become agitated. She began to toss and turn unconsciously as the strange noises emanated from below. It had only been a couple of weeks since she had finally rid herself of Opaline, those life-changing events were already a distant memory now. She was trapped in that tree forever, and for the first time in her life, Misty had no immediate cause for concern, and she now slept with an ease she had never known. Until tonight that is. Tonight was the night everything boiled over, but the problem really started months before. It goes all the way back to the creation of the Crystal Brighthouse. Actually, the problem started eons before that... Harmony magic, it's ancient origins unknown, possesses god-like abilities in a wide variety of skills. Of course, it has the power to kick ass and take names, that's a given. Been saving Equestrians for thousands of years. And it's nigh indestructible too. So many times, has all hope been lost throughout the ages, and its indomitable spirit resurrects like a phoenix from the ashes. Not to forget it's unparalleled powers of perception. It can read the very heart and mind of a pony and give even the worst among them exactly the right nudge to the path of friendship. But of all the many amazing showstopping abilities the power of Harmony possesses, there is one that has evaded its grasp for its entire existence. One that, if it found itself lacking in any of the others, may have long ago led to its demise. That of course being its incomprehensibly deficient capacity for architectural design. Over the years it has produced some real stinkers. Twilight’s castle of friendship, the Cotton Candy Café, the Paradise Estate, all master classes in compositional abomination, and the Brighthouse was no exception. Sure, it was a functional building, bathrooms and laundry rooms, kitchen and storage all placed in sensible ergonomic locations. And a central elevator was awkward but entirely necessary for the structure's unique floorplan. And even though the color scheme and overreliance on glass was a bit garish, Equestrians didn't seem to mind. But for this ghastly edifice, this real turd of an erection, for reasons that could never be understood, it decided to make a quadripartite open floorplan set of bedrooms all facing directly toward one another. Privacy is not the biggest concern in Equestria. Clothing has always been optional since the dawn of time. But still ponies do have needs. And while open public itching and scratching, and for stallions the occasional dropping, of genitalia is perfectly acceptable, sexual matters are generally expected to be private affairs. Not for any sort of cultural shame, if two ponies wanted to go at it raw in the middle of a crowded market square, they may get some bemused looks thrown their way, but for no more reason than the obnoxious calling of attention to ones self. So some privacy has always been necessary even for an ever-nude horse, and that's the way it has always been. This was the start of the problem. For the first few weeks after they moved in, Sunny, Izzy, Pipp and Zipp politely refrained from pleasuring themselves. But as time wore on the tension began to build. Sure they managed to pop a few off during a bathroom break here and there. But these mares led busy coltfriendless lives and there really was no better time and place to masturbate than in your own comfortable bed. This open space with every mare staring directly across from one another really threw a monkey wrench into the regular routine with which they had been accustomed in their lives before the Brighthouse. It was Izzy who broke first for obvious reasons. The denizens of Briddlewood were generally more free spirited than your average pony, and Izzy was not a departure from that, in fact she was a prime example. On one night, after a particularly long day of crafting, as all the girls were turning in for bed she announced loudly to the room.