> Fluttershy exhales long and shaky, the finally meets your eyes.

> “I discover things,” she says quietly. “Parasites that only show symptoms during estrus. Viral strains that jump from timberwolf sap to pony bloodstream during prolonged… contact. Bacterial blooms in cloacal secretions after repeated mating with griffons or dragons. Zoonotic fevers triggered by repeated exposure to manticore saliva during… grooming sessions.”

> She pauses.
> Blushes harder.

> “The scientists can’t replicate the conditions safely. They can’t get the animals to… cooperate the way I can. So they send me stipends. Equipment. Research assistants who mostly just stand outside and take notes while I… while I collect samples. In vivo. In… very close quarters.”

You stare at her.

> Fluttershy looks back, eyes wide, earnest, and still faintly pink.

> “It’s for science,” she whispers. “And the animals are happy. And the grants pay for everything. The food. The medicine. The new hutch extensions. Even the… specialty lubricants for the more… enthusiastic species.”

You lean back in your chair.

Jesus fucking Christ.

The Element of Kindness.
Ponyville’s softest, gentlest soul.
Bankrolled by half the medical establishment in Equestria because she’s willing, enthusiastically willing, to let bears mount her, timberwolves knot her, roosters fuck her throat, and manticores rail her ass in the name of epidemiology.

No wonder she never asks for bits from anypony.

She’s got the best sugar-daddies in Canterlot: white-coated unicorns in lab coats who write her checks every quarter while she fills out data sheets with cum still drying on her thighs.