"EARTH?" >No no no >This can't be happening >Peeking out from behind your front door, you stare in shock at the nonchalant mare with a clipboard standing on your porch >"Yeah, says so here. Floor Bored, right? You got matched up with some human." >This is impossible >There has to be some mistake "H-How?" >"Hon, you've been listed on our service for a while now. It's clear no stallion's gonna take you, and protocol says after eighteen months you have to get placed on the human waitlist." "I-I can't go to Earth." >You can barely muster the courage to go down to the grocery store every two weeks >How are you going to survive in a completely different WORLD? >"Listen, you signed a contract. You're already paid for. Now we're not slavers, you're free to back out of it, but then it comes down to damages. And judging by the state of your house," she peers behind you into your dilapidated home, "you can't afford to breach contract. Either you suck it up and go to Earth, or the bank will take your home. No offense, honey, but I'd hate to see a poor thing like you living on the street." >The street? >No no no no NO >You CANNOT live outside >You can barely handle going out biweekly as it is >Having to suffer through that 24/7? >You'll die your very first night >You're feeling the onset of panic just imagining it >The mare stares at you apathetically. "Well whatever you decide, swing by the service Monday morning. Bring a suitcase or the deed to your place." >With that, she turns and leaves. >You slam your door shut. Back pressed against it, you slide down to the floor, hyperventilating. >You never should have signed up for this service to begin with >Maybe you should have at least read the fine print >You didn't think anypony would actually take you as a mare-order bride >You registered because it was the only way to preserve your NEEThood >Becoming the doting wife to some handsome stallion >It's the only thing you ever wanted in life >Of course that dream was totally impossible >You are, perhaps, the most undesirable mare in Equestria >Not a single stallion would want you >That's why you got bumped down to the human list >Those humans are fucking crazy, you've heard the stories >They're creeps and weirdos and lunatics who are obsessed with ponies >Sure, the service says they thoroughly vet all the humans before letting them on the waitlist >But they're humans, they're all psychopaths >Who knows what this human will do to you >He'll probably keep you tied up in his creepy sex dungeon >Fuck, why is that so hot >You're supposed to be disgusted by that >This is so fucking hard >You don't want to do this >You CAN'T do this >You feel the panic attack coming on >Panting more and more as your chest constricts >Your head feels faint, the world goes fuzzy >And you pass out >The weekend seemed to fly by >Usually you don't keep track of the days, you've never really had appointments or schedules to keep to >But this particular deadline snuck up on you >Any time you thought about the situation the anxiety got to you >So you frittered away with the usual activities >Video games. Manga. Lots of masturbation >But here you lie in your bed, early Monday morning, in sheer terror >You pull the covers over your head >It's safer inside >But soon you'll have to make a choice >One way or another, you're being forced out of this safe space >Either you travel to an entirely different world, where you'll be at the mercy of a rabid creature >Or you get evicted onto the streets, forced to endure NEET life outside, or worse >Get a job "EEP!" >The concept terrifies you, being forced to wear some starchy uniform, interact with ponies day in, day out >That's it >You can't do this >At least in Earth you'll be able to preserve your NEEThood >You'd rather be locked in some human's basement than forced to live that kind of life >Shuddering, you flip the blanket off yourself and climb off the bed >Digging through your closet, you pull out a never-used relic you inherited from your parents >A suitcase >What would they think, if they were still around to see you like this? >You've shamed their memory, lost the house they left you, and gotten yourself into such a mess >You mindlessly throw various possessions into the luggage >Too stressed to rationally consider what you may actually need >Just some random clothes, toys, personal effects >Will your daki fit? >If you have to be some monster's wife, you're at least bringing your secret horsebando >Desperately, you try to cram the pillow into the suitcase >No such luck >You resign to take the cover off and leave the pillow behind, it will have to do >Oh fuck the pillow reeks >You actually washed the cover a few times but the pillow must hold years of accrued sweat and cum from you desperately humping it >It's probably best you're not bringing it >Humans have pillows, right? >You don't know anything about them >Just a vague idea of their menacing shape >Once the suitcase is packed to the brim you squeeze it closed, sitting on it so you can actually zip it back up >You peek through your ever-closed blinds >It's so sunny out >You return to your closet, and dig out your favorite hoodie and some shorts >The hoodie is like a security blanket, hiding your unkempt mane and obscuring your peripheral vision >The outside world feels a little smaller when you can't see it surrounding you >The shorts are for covering up your blank flank, so you can at least pretend you're a normal mare in public >But that's just a comforting lie, everypony can see, plain as day, that you are anything but normal >Pulling the clothes on, you tighten the hoodie strings and pick up your suitcase >You steel yourself for the nerve-racking trip you are about to embark on >And step past your front door into the blinding sunshine >This has been >THE MOST STRESSFUL DAY OF YOUR LIFE >Let's recount how it went down >You somehow braved the long walk to the bridle service across town >Checked in with the receptionist >Gave her your name. "F-Floor B-Bored." Had to repeat it twice just so she could hear past your stutter >She raised an eyebrow when she saw your file >You don't know whether it was because of how long you've been registered, how dreadfully plain your bio is, or how you're being sent to Earth >Maybe all three >She asked you to take a seat >You waited in the lobby for maybe 30 minutes before your caseworker came out >She brought you to her office and explained how it's going to go down >You are under contract to cohabitate with your designated human for at least one year >Nearly all mares who register for the service are perfectly happy with who they get paired up with >60% start planning the wedding immediately, 99% get hitched within the first three months >The rare few who got matched with humans over stallions did so because they chose to >It's like every thing she says is a point about how abnormal your case is >She keeps dropping reassurances like "he's such a sweet guy" and "I'm sure you'll love him!" >You'll get to write your caseworker at most once a week >Once a month, she'll be dropping by for a random spot check >She stressed it's just a precaution but it still made you nervous >Is there really a big enough risk that they'll need to do random inspections? >Will he threaten you? Hurt you? Abuse you? >You're so scared, it takes everything you have to not break down in that meeting >"Of course, before we send you off we'll have to do something about that appearance." >You stared at her blankly >"Honey, you look like a mess. Now, he's seen your picture, but that doesn't mean you have to meet him looking like a cave-dweller." >She called her receptionist in and asked her to pull some strings for a last-minute salon appointment in Canterlot >Canterlot? >Yes, Canterlot >"That's where the portal is. To Earth." >That's how your bad day got worse >You panicked the whole trip to the capital city >You thought you felt stressed out walking around in your backwoods hometown >Walking around the fashion, financial, cultural capital of Equestria? >If there was ever a place you didn't fit in... it was there >At least the escort to the salon was relatively brief >But the respite was short-lived >Because there, the world's most premier manedressers (apparently) descended on you like vultures >Immediately you were shunted into a chair by three different ponies, your hoodie and shorts yanked off, poked and prodded with different utensils >One started combing out your tangled mess of a mane, another got to work on your hooves, the third trimming your overgrown fluff >Apparently you were too much of a fixer-upper so they crammed in as many simultaneous treatments as time (and physical space around you) permitted >You spent nearly an hour attacked from all angles, clipped, trimmed, brushed, combed, shampooed, polished, washed, styled, and scrubbed >Paralyzed the entire time by the sheer sensory overload of it all >By the time it was finally over, you barely even recognized yourself in the salon mirror >The mare that looked back was prettier, sure, but it wasn't you >It was all just a costume >You weren't granted any time to dwell on it, because straight from the salon you went to the castle >Yep >The royal fucking castle >If you knew just how daunting this whole experience would be, you'd have never left the safety of your house >You'd have let them bulldoze it with you inside >Finally, it was time to go >Your escort entourage had finally disbanded, leaving only you and your caseworker in front of the portal >And that's how today went down >Here you stand, in Canterlot Castle, with the mare who basically sold you off to some random monster, about to leave your home world forever >Because, face it, Floor. >You're never going home. >"Hey, hon, I know you must be scared, having to up and leave all of a sudden like this. But once you meet him, you'll see what a wonderful guy he is, and you'll realize there's nothing to fear. If you really don't like him, and I doubt that will be the case, you can come home after a year. This may be a bridle service, but you don't have to marry him if you don't want to. I'll stop by sometime within the next month, and if you want to contact me before then, remember, you can send me a letter a week." >You stare into the portal, seeing your shimmering reflection gaze back >You feel so exposed without your hoodie and shorts >They shoved them into your suitcase after giving you this insane makeover >Probably got a glimpse of all your embarassing possessions too >But in the mess that was today, that's probably the least of your concerns >You turn back to your caseworker, shaking with anxiety, and whisper your only question "W-What's his name?" >Surprised, she pulls up her clipboard. "I didn't tell you? Look at me, giving you every little bit of info but his name! Let's see, let's see... ah! Here it is. His name is..." >She says it with a warm smile >"Anonymous." >This is insane >Two minutes in this world and you're already freaked out >You're standing in front of his door, and you're barely keeping it together >WHY ARE THE DOORKNOBS AT EYE LEVEL >Calm down, Floor, humans can probably smell fear >You don't know how you can possibly endure a year of this >It takes every ounce of strength you have to knock on that door >You hear shuffling on the other side >Lumbering footsteps, he's coming to eat you >The door swings open and HOLY CRAP THIS THING IS HUGE >He's like twice the size of you! >He's a predator >And you're what's for dinner >Instinctively, you shrink away, practically cowering in front of him >"Oh, hey! It's you!" He greets you excitedly >"I couldn't see you through the peephole, I thought the neighbor kids were pulling a prank again." >You have no idea what he's talking about, you just want it to be over >"Come in, make yourself at home." >Apprehensively, you step inside his place, dragging your suitcase behind you >It's very neat and organized >Completely pristine >You won't last a week in here >He takes a seat in the living room and motions you over invitingly >With a nervous gulp, you shut the door behind you, sealing yourself inside >Walk over and take a seat on his sofa >"So, I'm Anonymous, and I'm guessing you're Floor Bored?" >You nod tensely >"I have to say, you look a little different from your picture. Not that I'm complaining, of course! You're... really pretty." >He thinks you're pretty? >No >It's only because you have this costume on >This isn't your real mane, or your real coat >Your true self is an ugly mess >"Are you okay?" he asks, looking concerned. "You want some water or something?" >Suddenly your throat feels very dry >Again, you nod, and he gets up to get you a drink >He brings back a glass of water >You take it and quickly gulp down the whole glass, setting it down on the table in front of you >"Wow." >Stupid Floor, you just acted like a total pig >He sits back in his chair >"So, I have to admit, I don't really know how this is supposed to work." >What? >"It feels weird, the idea of getting married to a stranger just like that. Much less a pony." >You look at him uncertainly >"Don't get me wrong, there's nothing I ever wanted more than a mare of my own— I mean, not that you're MINE, but—" >He's stammering, finding himself getting very flustered >This isn't the vicious beast you imagined >...Maybe it's just an act to get your guard down >He sighs. "I'm sorry. Maybe we forget the whole marriage arrangement thing for now?" >Immediately, you nod in agreement >You can't imagine being his wife, the best you can stomach is reluctant roommates for a year >"Okay. Good." >He pauses awkwardly. >"You want me to show you to your room?" >Your room? >He's not going to make you sleep at the foot of his bed? >Or tie you up in his basement? >"Come on," he says, getting up. "Want me to grab your suitcase?" >You scramble off the sofa to get to it before he does >No way you're risking him seeing all the embarrassing things inside >"Oh. Okay then." He goes down the hall, motioning for you to follow >You drag your suitcase along, noting all the little details of his home >Tastefully appointed >It doesn't seem like a monster's lair >But it could all just be a facade >He stands in the doorway to a bedroom >"This one's yours." >You peer inside >It's actually kind of... nice? >A big bed, compared to your tiny body >A cute little desk >Even some shelves to hold your— >Wait, Floor, what are you talking about >This isn't your home, this is a prison cell >And he's the warden >Anything you put up, he's going to see >He's going to mock and taunt your interests >You slink inside, setting your suitcase down >Oh good, a closet to hide in >"You want something to eat? I'm sure the trip took a lot out of you." >You shake your head, instead climbing up onto the bed >"Well, my room is just across the hall if you need anything, and the bathroom's at the end. >He leaves and shuts the door for you >Finally alone >You dig through your suitcase and pull out your daki cover >Switch out one of the pillowcases for your horsebando >You curl up under the covers, squeezing him >He will protect you in this unfamiliar land >Finally, your racing heartbeat begins to slow >These sheets are so clean >So soft >You'll ruin them in time >Just like you ruin everything >Maybe if you're lucky the human will get sick of you and kick you out >Then you'll have to go back home >But it's weird >This bed doesn't feel safe like the one back home >But it does feel pretty comfy >Maybe... >It won't be all bad? >You awake not too long later >Apparently you are hungry after all >You can see the light from the hall spilling under the door >What do you do? >He must be out there >At least you're safer in here >But not totally safe >You feel anxious, exposed >You flip open your suitcase and dig out your hoodie and shorts >Sliding them on, you feel slightly assuaged >But the rumbling of your stomach interrupts you >You're going to have to leave at some point >Shakily, you climb out of bed and go to the door >Pressing your ear against it, you can hear muffled sounds >He's out there >But the primal urge to eat is drowning out your fear >Slowly, you open the door >Human doors are so hard to open >Crack it open just a bit and peek outside >You can see him down the hall in the living room >Sitting on his sofa, watching TV >Take a deep breath >Here goes >Step outside and over to him >"Floor Bored! Hi!" he looks over and greets you warmly. >"You hungry yet?" >Thankfully he guessed it, you won't have to ask >You nod shyly >"Cool, I'll make you something." >He gets up and walks around to the kitchen >"Your bio didn't have a lot of info, but it said your favorite food was ramen, so..." >He opens a pair of cabinets to reveal the treasure within >Your jaw drops when you see the mountain of ramen packets >"I stocked up. Didn't know what kind you liked so I got them all." >You start to salivate as your eyes dart between all the different flavors >Humans have so many >Shit, you're drooling, you bimbo >"You got a preference?" he asks. "S-s-spicy." >You stutter out your first word to him >"Alright, a mare after my own heart." He reaches into the cabinet before turning back to you. "Not that you're— I didn't mean—" >He quickly shuts himself up and digs out two packs of spicy noodles >He puts on a pot of water while you sit at the table "Y-You can call me Floor." >"Huh?" He turns to you, not quite catching what you said "You don't have to keep calling me Floor Bored." >"Oh, right, sorry, pony names are just a little different, I wasn't sure what to call you." >He sits at the table across from you while he waits for the water to boil >"Is your room okay? I can redecorate if you don't like it." "I-It's fine." >He eyes you up and down, trying to make conversation >"I really like the clothes. They're cute." >Cute? >"You don't normally see ponies wearing casual stuff. Just, like, dresses and junk, on special occasions." >You absentmindedly play with strings on your hoodie >He won't stop watching you >Smiling >Why? "I like to wear clothes. They're c-comfy and they hide my body." >"You don't like your body?" >You stop avoiding his eyes and look at him with baffled skepticism "Why would I?" >"Well, 'cause you're... pretty?" he smiles nervously >He did not just say that >What game is he playing? >He doesn't think you're pretty >Does he? >You whisper a stifled thanks and involuntarily shrink into yourself >It's weird >You don't feel safe here >But for some reason you don't want to stop talking to him >You look around his home, trying to think of a conversation topic other than your looks >Your ugly, disgusting, hideous— >Focus, Floor! >What do normal ponies ask each other about when they meet somepony new? >Weather? Politics? Favorite type of porn? >Wait, yes! "W-What's your job?" >He rubs his neck awkwardly. "Well, I was in school for a while, but that didn't really work out. I guess I'm... between jobs? For now at least, I'm... a NEET." >Your ears perk up instantly, as well as they can underneath your tight hood "You're NEET?" >"Yeah. Not 'neat,' but 'NEET'. Like, I don't mean—" >You know what he means, and he has your attention piqued >"I don't mean to brag, but I'm basically good-for-nothing." >Ugh why is that so hot >What the fuck why do you find ironic self-deprecation sexy "Me too." >You whisper your response tensely, all the while thoughts racing through your head >They have NEETs here on Earth >You could be trapped with somepony worse >Some normie wageslave loser drone >But instead you got... Anonymous >"Water's boiling." He gets up to stir the ramen in >You watch him as he works >So tall, so big >And his legs poking out through his shirt >Or is it arms when it's on a human? >Such strange anatomy >Strangely intriguing >After a bit he brings two bowls over >You look down excitedly at the ramen floating in a reddish broth >As soon as he sets it down in front of you, you instinctively bring your muzzle down and start guzzling away >It's a full ten seconds before you remember what you're so used to doing is NOT normal >You freeze and sheepishly look back up at him, your cheeks turning as red as the broth staining your snout >He grins and says "That's nothing!" before picking up a forkfull and slurping up a ridiculously long noodle >Up the length of his tall body it goes, from the table all the way to his mouth >That makes you snort, getting little flecks of soupy water everywhere >At least he has a sense of humor >You chat a bit over dinner, with your appetite sated you feel more at ease >But after a while, you can feel your introvert tendencies creeping in along the urge to withdraw >You decide to quit while you're ahead and go back to bed >As you climb down from your chair, you look back up at him "Thanks for the meal, Anonymous." >He smiles at you >"Anon, Floor. Call me Anon." >That night, you find it hard to go back to sleep >You're clutching your daki, nerves racked >That Anonymous— Anon— isn't what you expected him to be >Isn't it just like you to never be wanted by anypony, and then the first time a creature actually picks you, you're terrified and just want it to be over >But he doesn't want you, not really >Anypony who wants somepony like you must be fucked-up in the head >And he seems... okay >So what did he pick you for? >Who in their right mind would want you to be their bride? >But he doesn't want you as a bride, he practically said so himself >You're so fucking conflicted >You don't even want to marry him, why does it feel so bad for him to reject you >He hasn't even rejected you yet, what the hell are you talking about? >Your mind is swimming in a discordant, stormy sea of thoughts, nothing is making sense at all >Just focus on one thing at a time, Floor >What do you want? More than anything? >Okay >Easy >You know the answer to that >You just want to be loved >You want to devote your life to making somepony happy >Making him eggs over ramen for breakfast, servicing him sexually, making him ramen for dinner >Mmmm... ramen >You don't want to have to worry about working, or adjusting to normal society, or trying new things (new things are scary) >All you want is to be loved for who you are >... >What a stupid dream >Nopony will ever want you >You feel like such a normie for wanting those things >It's such a dumb little schoolfilly fantasy to have >Getting swept off your feet by some handsome mysterious figure >As if that'll ever happen >You wish you didn't have dreams >You wish you were okay with your shitty life >...the life you don't have anymore >No, now your life is this >Curled up in some stranger's bed, terrified, not knowing what tomorrow will hold >You squeeze your daki harder >Horsebando will protect you >Horsebando will love you >Horsebando will... touch.. you... >...yes... >Holding him is not enough >You want to melt away at his touch >You wrap your hind legs around him as well >The pillow feels good between your legs >So soft, so delicate >Gently stroke him, up and down >He loves and appreciates you like no other >Slide your hips against him >That feels so go good >You plant a big kiss on his muzzle >He loves it when you lick his face clean >That night you accidentally spilled salsa on him while eating chips in bed turned into a fun adventure >He doesn't find you gross >To him, everything about you is sexy >So you'll do anything to please him >Grinding against him, your hot, wet breath beating against his face >You stare into his bedroom eyes while you fuck him >He's so fucking hot, you want him to use you >To pin you down and fuck your brains out >Grinding faster and faster, you coat his body in your juices >Pure ecstasy, you don't want it to ever end >You're winking like mad, your clit begging to be stimulated >You release one hoof from him and bring it down between your legs >Start rubbing away and pretending it's his touch >Oh, he handles you so vivaciously, sensitive and rough at the same time >Panting hard against his face while you hump him >No one gets you wetter than him >You sink your face into the pillow and moan deeply "Fuck me, sweet prince! Mount me and make me yours!" >You can feel the deeply-needed sensation building in your loins >Holding your breath, with a powerful squeeze, you clench him between your thighs and give a mighty buck >It sends you over the edge into utter bliss >You pull him into a kiss as you orgasm all over him "Fuuuuck..." >Only when the twitching in your crotch stops do you finally pull away and suck the air back into your lungs >Lying back on the bed, a bit of drool dribbling out of the corner of your mouth, letting your brain bathe in the endorphins >After a minute of catching your breath you finally regain your senses >And realize you're lying in a puddle of your own sweat and cum >The sheets, the blanket, your pillow, all soaking wet with your bodily fluids >That's when it hits you >This isn't your bed >Oh fuck oh shit oh man >You completely drenched Anon's bed, he's going to find out >He's going to kill you, or hit you, or yell at you like you're a crate-training puppy >The anxiety had left just long enough for you to rub one out, and now it was back in full force >Clinging to your daki once again, you give up and resign to your doom >You pull the blankets over your head, deciding now to never come out >Hopefully Anon doesn't notice the smell when you curl up and die in here >Or the stench from the shlick session you just had >Or any of the thousand other odors seeping out of your body at any given moment >No >The only way you're ever leaving this bed... >...is if Anon drags you out >You awake some time the next morning >The curtains are drawn so it's still nice and dark in here >But the masturbatory shame hasn't left >Curled up under the blanket, you can still smell the remnants of last night's session >You don't want to leave >To leave is to expose your shame to him >To show him the messy, hopeless degenerate that you really are >You feel the onset of panic creeping in >So you clutch your horsebando in your hooves and sink into the pillow >Before you know it, you've fallen back asleep >Only to be awoken some indeterminate time later by a knock at the door >But of course, you don't answer >Instead, paralyzed by fear, you watch the door and pray he leaves >And he does >He's polite like that, at least >You stay there, not knowing what to do >Crippled by your anxiety >The minutes turn to hours >All the while, too afraid to even set one hoof off the bed >Eventually he comes back >Knocks again >A little firmer this time >He even speaks >"Floor?" >But you don't reply >You're scared he'll come in >You don't want to look him in the eye when he does >So you dip your head under your blanket, nestled in the safety of your smelly cocoon >Once again, he leaves >But you don't >Even more time passes >You have no way of telling how much >It must be late afternoon, early evening, judging by how long the light has been spilling in through the gaps in the curtains >You're so hungry, stomach is rumbling >You desperately have to piss, there are no bottles in this room >But this is what you deserve >You filthy, perverted wretch >Splaying yourself all over somepony's clean sheets >Ruining them like you ruin everything in your life >If there was a noose in this bed, you'd use it >It's been so long, you're getting light-headed >You lose all track of passing time, nothing has meaning anymore >For the third time, Anon comes and knocks >"You okay in there? You haven't come out all day." >You try to choke out an affirmative reply that will get him to leave you alone >But no sound escapes your throat >He knocks just one more time, and you hear the door open >You instinctively cower in your hiding place underneath the sheets >"Floor, what's going on?" >You hear his voice much more clearly now, he's in the room >"I can tell by the lump in the bed that you're sitting up." >Reflexively, you sink lower, partly from fear, partly from humiliation >Even against the plush carpet you can hear his footsteps >And then the edge of the blanket lifts up "EEK!" >A surge of cool air seeps in, while the stagnant blanket air rushes out to meet him >Just as the stench hits his face you can see his concerned expression falter slightly >He can tell what you did in here, you just know it >You lock eyes with him, frozen in fear >Don't move a muscle >He can't see you if you don't move >"Are you okay?" >That's what he asks? >Not "what the fuck are you doing in here?" or "why does my guest bed reek like the aftermath of a pigeon orgy atop a mountain of crap?" >Are you okay? >You don't answer >You don't know how to answer that >"Can I come in?" >Again you're struck with disbelief >Not only is he not repulsed... but he's asking to come closer >It takes you a moment, but you nod tensely >He climbs into the bed and sits under the duvet beside you >Your nest gets a little bigger as he props up the blanket with his head like a tent pole >"Neat little blanket fort you've got here." >This is insane >There's no way he can't smell it >He has to know >He must be practically suffocating >So why is he so chipper? >"Missed you today. You didn't want to come out?" >You look down in shame and shake your head >"Oh... because of me?" he asks, a hint of dejection in his tone. >You lift your head back up "N-No!" >He pauses. >"You don't like it here, do you?" >You struggle to meet his gaze >There's nothing he did wrong, this place was perfectly fine, it was practically spotless, you just... >You don't feel at home here >You don't feel safe like you did in your old house >Sure it was lonely, and gross, and run-down, but it was yours >It was familiar >This world is too scary for you, and you'll never fit in somewhere like here >But you're too terrified to articulate any of that to him >"I won't stop you if you want to go back home." >Wait, what? "Really?" >"Yeah, of course. You're not my slave. If you aren't comfortable here, you shouldn't stay. I'm sure we could talk to the agency and cancel the whole thing. They probably won't give me my money back, but I don't give a shit about that, as long as you're happy." >This is it >This is your out >This is your ticket home "...I just want to go back to my old life." >"I get it. It's getting late, so maybe we should try to get you home before everything closes and you're stuck here another night." "Okay." >"Hey," he says, sliding your pillow over, "cool daki. I was gonna get one, but I couldn't choose which pony to get." >You look at him, his hand resting on your horsebando, still crisp with your dried marecum from last night >A bead of sweat rolls down your cheek >W-Why is that so hot >Okay, it's burning you up inside, you have to ask >You blurt out the question unnaturally loudly "Do you really not smell it?" >He glances back to you and visibly sniffs the air >"All I smell is a pretty good time," he says with a wink >Okay, that definitely elicits a certain sensation in your loins >Or maybe it's the swollen bladder pressing against your pelvis >He notices you clenching your hind legs together uncomfortably >"You really have to pee, don't you?" >You nod vigorously >"Come on. Let's take a trip to the bathroom." >He starts to leave when he turns back to see you still frozen >"What's wrong?" he asks, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding the blanket up "I..." >You're still ashamed >Too afraid to leave your cocoon >The anxiety's paralyzing you >"Come on," he says, patting his back. "Climb up." >You look back at him, confused "S-Seriously?" >"Hey, if you won't walk yourself to the bathroom, then I'll just have to carry you. Get up here." >Nervously, you step up to him and drape your hooves over his shoulders >"That's it, now wrap your legs around my sides." >He turns his head towards you >"Ready?" "Y-Yes." >Suddenly, he rises from the edge of the bed, thrusting you out from under the blanket into the open air >You clench your grasp around him, frightened beyond belief >He walks over to the door, supporting you with ease >So... this is what it's like to be a human >They're so tall, the world seems so far down >You duck your head under the door frame when he steps out into the hall >As your muzzle softly grazes his neck you catch a whiff of him >You recoil in surprise, but soon lean back in curiously >It doesn't smell like the cologne you sometimes spray on horsebando >No... he smells much more natural >Almost... musky >Before you can take in any more of his scent you find yourself shrinking back down >Or rather, him lowering you to the ground >You climb off his back, delivered to the bathroom with care >"How was that?" he asks, towering over you once again >Indescribable "G-Good." >"Now go on and pee, and we'll get you home." >You shut the bathroom door and climb onto the toilet >It's big, but so is everything else in this world >Once in position you unleash the torrential stream you've been holding back >The pressure release in your bladder feels almost as fantastic as the orgasm last night >...if only there was a way to combine the two >(But that's for another day) >After a minute, the forceful stream reduces to a trickle >You wiggle your rump a little to expel the last of it, a cute image even if not anatomically plausible, and climb back down >Flush it down and open the door, as always forgetting to wash your hooves >Only to smack right into Anon's legs on the way out >H-He was here the whole time >You thought he'd just leave but he stayed >He definitely heard the flood you just unleashed in there >Fuck why is that so lewd >Everything that should not be making you hot is making you hot lately >It's like there's a million wires crossed in your head, and they all lead directly to the horny center of the brain >While your mental short-circuit unfolds, he stares down at you >"Ready to go?" "Huh? Oh, yeah." >You head back to the bedroom with him "Just have to pack." >"I'll help," he offers >Truthfully, there isn't much to pack >Because you haven't unpacked >You toss your hoodie and shorts inside, and slip your daki cover, stained with your collective juices, off Anon's pillow >Cramming the suitcase back down again, you sit down on top to zip it up >"Hey, you don't have to do that," Anon says, quickly dipping out of the room, "I'll get you something bigger to take back." "No, you don't have to, I... almost... got it..." >"It's no trouble, really," he calls out from the living room, "I have a— shit!" >You hear a long, drawn-out crash from his direction >Scrambling out of the room, you run over to find him standing ankle-deep in an avalanche of junk >"No, please, don't come here!" >He clutches his head in frustration, mortified with embarrassment "W-What's this?" >You look at the cascade of items that poured out of his closet >Random tools, trinkets, papers, toys, tapes, boxes, devices, pictures, any sort of personal item you could think of lay in a heap on the floor "Anon?" >"I— You weren't mean to see this." >You come over and pick up a little action figure >He's old and battered, but still kinda neat >This pile, it almost reminds you of— >"I'm sorry," he sighs. "This whole apartment is a facade, it's not me. I don't actually live like this. I paid someone to completely scrub down every inch of the place before you got here, and crammed all my gross, old stuff in here. I— I didn't want to throw it away." >You were right >This place wasn't what it seemed >He tricked you >Deceived you >It was all an illusion from the start, just like you knew it was >You put the action figure down while he reaches in the back for the suitcase he was digging through this mess for >"Let's just get you packed up and out of here before I make things worse." >Still processing it, you whisper your answer "Yeah." >He brings the suitcase to the bedroom, and you follow >Silently, you pull your possessions out of the old suitcase and into the new >A tense air hangs between you >But you won't acknowledge it >Shit, you called it, Floor >He is a liar and a monster >But not in the way you expected >He lies to make you feel better >He is the kind of monster that you are >The kind that makes its den out of old soda cans and empty noodle cups >He isn't the pony-eating beast you imagined >No, he's more like a dragon that just wants to sit atop his hoard >You zip up the suitcase and carry it out of the bedroom >You share no words as you head for the door >This world is foreign and scary >Its inhabitants weird and confusing >You were never ready for this >So it's time to go back where you belong >Back to the mess you know and love >It may be a broken home >But it's yours >You step out the front door and turn back to face him >"I'll call them and let them know you're coming. They should be able to send you through the portal." "Thanks." >"Yeah. Take care, Floor." >He starts to close the door >And you don't know why, but for the first time ever, you act impulsively >Maybe it's the fact that this is not the kind of goodbye you want >Maybe the Earth air is getting to you >Maybe you're actually changing >But for reasons you'll never be able to explain >You rush forward >And hug him >Throwing your hooves around his legs and squeezing with all your might >He kneels down to reciprocate, placing his hands on you, and you move your hooves over his shoulders >Again, you can smell his neck >The intoxicating aroma of his musk >But now it's not just catching a whiff, it's something much more powerful >You sink your muzzle into him and inhale deeply >You've never smelled a boy before >Now you have a face full of... Anon >After a moment you finally pull back >"Goodbye, Floor. Have a safe trip home." >Too shaken to say anything, you don't respond >So, he just stands back up >And shuts the door "...bye." >But it's too late, in your broken voice, you whisper far too softly for him to hear >You turn around, facing the hallway, the first step back to your freedom >And that's when it sorta clicks in your head >Here you have somepony...someone...who isn't just not repelled by your gross behavior, but actually finds it amusing >Someone who revels in the NEET lifestyle and doesn't plan on stopping anytime soon >Someone who likes living in a mess and is willing to go to insane lengths to give that up for YOU >And you want to walk away from all of it, just because you're afraid of change? >Be Anon, for the first time >Leaning back against your front door, so many thoughts run through your head >That was certainly a fun 24 hours >She came, you made her ramen, you both slept, she hid from you, and she left >Just as well, though >You look down at the mess spilling out of your closet >She would have found out eventually >Mares are such beautiful, sophisticated creatures >You aren't fit to take care of one >It was a fun dream, but it's not realistic >You know that now >Better to send her home before she resents you >Just as you reach for the phone to let the agency know the arrangement's over, you hear a knock >So you open the door once again, to see Floor still standing there >And she's wearing an embarrassed, nervous smile >"So... no cutie mark, huh?" >You glance up from your plate >Anon is sitting across from you at the dinner table >It's your fifth day here >"Sorry. Didn't know if it was okay to address it. It's just, you weren't wearing your shorts today, and... I didn't know it was possible. Unless you're a kid, in which case, I'm in big trouble." >You swallow a bite of your sandwich "It's possible. Not exactly common, but possible." >"How does that happen?" >You hate talking about it, but it's best to just get it over with now "I just never had a special talent. That's how I became a NEET." >Anon leans his elbows on the table curiously >"But don't all ponies have talents? There's got to be something you're good at." >You take another bite and answer him while chewing "Nope, not unless you count rubbing myself raw." >He pulls away just a bit >STUPID Floor, don't talk about masturbation, people don't want to hear about your gross habits >"What kind of cutie mark would that even be? A vibrator?" >You almost choke on your food before swallowing "HA! Imagine that, a vibrator on my ass instead of in it." >Now you're both laughing >This is weird >He seems cool >It's fun talking to him about this stuff >He doesn't judge you like a normie would >"You wanna watch something before bed?" >He's started showing you all kinds of Earth shows and movies >They're all so different from Equestrian media >Lots of violence and sex, which is exciting >But also really interesting, the stories aren't just 100 different versions of the same old fairytales like they are back home "Maybe some X-Files." >You've been digging those scary monsters with crazy powers lately >There have even been a couple you've wanted to fuck, but Anon's not ready to hear about any of that >You finish up your dinner and join him on the couch >Three feet apart, as usual >Better to be apart than close >The last time you were close was that hug >He smelled so nice >You want to smell him again >But you don't want him to know that you want that >You're not even completely sure you want that >Because when you're close enough to smell him >He's close enough to smell you >And you don't want that kind of intimacy, you're too afraid of it >You have a half-decent thing going here >Why risk it? >You don't pay much attention to the episode >Something about ice and a group of people arguing >Out of the corner of your eye you're watching Anon >You don't know why, but he's starting to grow on you >You like spending time with him >He's funny, and cute, and not that bad-looking >Hey, if you can be a monster-fucker, you wouldn't be opposed to whatever the hell he is >Shit, Floor, are you really thinking about him that way? >You're barely friends as it stands >Don't screw it up now just because you're a horny bitch >The episode ends and Anon stretches his arms >Giving you a glimpse of that human midriff >Humans wear clothes all day, every day >It leaves so much to the imagination >"Y'know, that episode was based on a pretty famous movie." "Really? Can we watch?" >Why'd you ask that? >You didn't even pay attention to the episode >Now you're just sucking up to him, feigning interest in the stuff he likes, just like those sluts do back home >"Sure, I'll try to find it tomorrow." >He gets up >"Think I'm done for the night. I'll be in my room if you need anything." >With that, he heads down the hall >You wait until you hear his door shut before getting off the couch >His place isn't as neat as it was when you first arrived >It's still relatively clean, but the disorder is starting to build up >Sometimes he'll show you something and not put it back, leaving stuff out on the tables and counters >You're well-versed in mess-making, that's how it starts >You wonder just how messy this place was before you got here >If the hoard in his closet's any indication, it wasn't too far off from your own home >You miss that chaos >It was your nest >But it looks like you're sticking around... for now >You return to your room and flip on the light >Anon was kind enough to change the sheets after your incident >He didn't even judge when he climbed under the blanket with you >He was so close to you then >You miss the closeness >Not even because of him specifically >You just miss having another living being in your personal space >You've closed yourself off for so long because you prefer the solitude >But it must have had the opposite effect, because once you got a taste of company, you realized how deeply you craved it >Yet somehow, the concept of being known still scares you beyond belief >You'll never be able to understand what it is you really want >You're a mess, Floor Bored >You get in bed and stare down at your luggage >You're still living out of your suitcase >The closet is right there, but it doesn't feel right >It's like you're keeping one hoof out the door >There's some small comfort in knowing you could escape at a moment's notice >The past few days have been okay, but the anxiety remains >Because it could easily get so much worse before it gets better >"You know you can unpack, right?" >It's the next day, and Anon's hanging out with you in your room >You're reading a manga on the bed and he's lying on the floor, throwing a ball against the wall "Y-Yeah. I know. Just been lazy, that's all." >That's not it >But it's an easy excuse >"'Cause I saw you got some toys and figurines and junk in your bag." >You wince at the mention of it >Your stuff's embarrassing, way too spaghetti to show anypony >You wish they were invisible to everypony but you >"And I was thinking they'd look pretty cool on the shelves." >He tosses the ball again >"Not to brag, but I built that thing myself. Those Swedes make some damn intuitive furniture." >You stare at the spot on the wall he's bouncing the ball off of >He doesn't think your stuff is cringe >It's like every time you expect him to resent you, he surprises you >At a certain point, it should stop coming as a surprise, right? >But the surprises don't seem to stop, because the next one is the question that comes out of your own mouth "Will you help me set them up?" >He sits upright and smiles at you, visibly pleased by your request >"Sure." >You take the random assortment of clothes you brought and shove them haphazardly into the closet >It's not like you have enough of a wardrobe to warrant organization >With his help, you take the personal effects in your bag and set them on the shelves and desk >Whenever something catches his eye, he asks for the story behind it >You didn't anticipate genuine, unprovoked curiosity, but you indulge him regardless >Besides, it's kind of fun infodumping about your favorite collectibles and series from back home >Is that what normal ponies get to do all the time? >You loathe talking about yourself, but you could go on all day about your favorite manga >As he helps you arrange your possessions, you tell him all about them >It's kind of a weird collection you brought, but you seem to recall packing random junk >You had a panic attack over the notion of coming to Earth, after all >In your fugue state, you didn't really give any thought on what to bring >Only now are you finding out what various items you threw into your bag a week ago >"Whoa, I'll let you handle that one." >You return to the suitcase to see what he's talking about when your eyes land on one of your dildos >Immediately, you swipe it up and shove it under your bed while he delivers an amused whistle >"Do stallions really look like that?" "I wouldn't know..." >You mumble the response as you try to get back to unpacking >But Anon stays kneeling in front of your suitcase >"Hey, nothing wrong with being a virgin. Wait, horse virginity is a thing, right?" "Yes, Anon..." >You're starting to get flustered over this topic of conversation >Cracking jokes is one thing but casually discussing your (lack of) sex life feels uncomfortable >Ironic self-deprecation and being reminded you're forever alone are leagues apart >"What's this?" he asks, picking up a small booklet >You come back over to check it out "My caseworker's info. From the service that set us up." >As you read through it, you remember that you get to send her a letter a week >Should you write one? >You don't have any complaints about Anon >And it's not like she can do anything for the complaints you have about yourself >But maybe she can send some of the possessions you neglected to pack >It would be nice to have that statuette of horsebando again >Soon, your suitcase is finally empty >You and Anon take a look around the bedroom >It used to be a soulless, bare facade >But your decorations have introduced a bit of color >Once again, you're surprised >Because you didn't expect how much of difference it would make >It really is starting to feel like your room now >It's slow going, sure >But you're beginning to warm up to the idea of building a new nest "Damn it, Anon, I don't know how you expect me to do this." >He smirks as you fumble around with it in your hooves. "It really is fun watching you struggle like that. You're so inexperienced." >You frown at him "Are you going to help or just make fun of me?" >"I can't help it, you look so helpless and cute." >You roll your eyes >There he goes again calling you cute >You are NOT CUTE "I'm just doing this because you wanted me to try it. If you're going to taunt me the whole time I'm gonna lock myself in my room." >"Okay, okay. Obviously it's hard handling it in your hooves. Maybe try using your mouth?" >You stare at him in disbelief "No way in hell I'm putting my mouth on that thing. I don't know where it's been." >"Ouch. Just try it, will you? Don't you ponies handle things with your mouths all the time? You'll be a pro at it, trust me." >You give in to his suggestion pretty quick >Frankly, you kind of like how invested he is in you >This is what friendship is? Doing weird stuff that he wants you to try from time to time? >You lean down and open your jaw wide >Carefully, you take his joystick in your mouth >And wouldn't you know it, he was right >It's much easier to manipulate it this way >"There you go, now you're getting the hang of it!" >Much more encouraged, you go faster >Okay, this is kind of fun >Now you see the appeal >"Almost there..." >But it's quickly getting tiring >A few minutes in and you can feel your jaw getting sore >Just a bit more and you can finally unclench >"There you go! Yes!" >He finishes and you immediately unwrap your mouth, pulling your head back up >Still sputtering from the taste, you give him a sour glare "Your controller tastes worse than my dildo, Anon." >"Aw, come on," he jeers. "Cheer up. You finally beat me in Mario Kart. Only took you three days." "Fine. You were right, it worked. Cramped the hell out of my jaw, though." >You rub the spot below your chin tenderly >"Poor baby," he says, in a half-taunting, half-sincere voice >Suddenly he reaches over and grips the underside of your muzzle between his thumb and fingers >"Want me to massage it for you?" >The moment he grabs ahold of you, you go wide-eyed, staring down at his hand >Watching him push your cheeks in, squeezing your face like a toy as he massages your jaw >Alarm bells are going off in your head >Anon's touching you again, for the first time in a while >But never before like this >You feel unnerved, you want to swat his hand away >But the panic locks your body up, and you simply look on in shock >And maybe you don't care to admit it, but it actually feels... >...really good >You feel so tiny and powerless in his hand >It only lasts a moment before he catches onto your stunned expression and realizes the boundary he unwittingly crossed >As quick as it came, his hand snaps back and he mumbles a jilted apology >But your first thought when he releases is three simple words >Don't let go >It pops into your head inexplicably >Immediately, you push it out of your mind >You refuse to entertain any craven desires that enter your twisted thoughts >The reality of physical touch terrifies you and nothing will ever change that >So just >forget >about >it >"I, uh, promised to show you the internet, didn't I?" >You glance back up at Anon >You were having trouble getting your mind off the subject, and fortunately, he just did the work for you "Right. We should totally do that. Now." >That didn't come off weird, right? >"Cool, computer's in my bedroom." >Oh okay let's g— >Wait, where did he say? >You've been here a week and a half and still haven't seen Anon's room >You've caught glimpses here and there when he goes inside >But you've never set hoof in there >Why would you >Anon values privacy >He always keeps the door closed >Which totally means he's keeping something fucked-up in there, like a sex doll, or a kraken >Because of course that's what it means >"Floor?" >Shit >Anon is standing there waiting for you and you're internally panicking, looking like an idiot >Silently, you get off the couch and follow him down the hall >He pushes the door open, and with a gulp, you step inside >And the sight that awaits is quite the surprise >Because damn it if this place doesn't remind you of home >It's nothing like the rest of his apartment >The walls are lined with movie and band posters >His bed is in the corner, same size as yours, a heap of blankets and pillows forming a veritable nest >All his shit is lying around, clothes strewn about on the floor >And his desk, oh, his desk >Every square inch occupied with clutter >Some figurines as decorations, office supplies, and loads of papers in messy stacks >All you can do is look around the room in awe "Damn, Anon, you live like this?" >He follows your eyes, the shame slowly dawning on him >The same shame you saw in him when his closet hoard was unearthed in front of you >Clearly, he didn't think twice about the state of his room until you pointed it out >You couldn't help it, the transition from the rest of the apartment to here was just so jarring >Not just because of the mess, but because this place actually looked lived-in >The rest of his place was decorated so blandly, you figured that was just the way he was >But evidently, he changed a lot more for your arrival than he let on >And that just leaves you feeling... lied to >"I'm sorry, we don't have t—" "Why didn't you tell me?" >He gazes at you, unsure of what you mean "All of this, you collect things like me, you have posters of the shit you like, and you keep it all in here, hidden away from me? Why?" >"I was trying to play it safe, I didn't know much about you before you came, I— I didn't think you'd appreciate it." "But you helped me unpack. You saw what I brought. You have so many similar things here, and you never thought to bring it up?" >"I-It's not the same," he stammers, getting flustered. "All your interests are from Equestria, I figured you wouldn't care about anything from Earth." >He pauses, upset with himself more than anything else, clearly debating whether to say this next part >And it takes a few seconds, but he does >"I didn't want to surround you with my belongings. I didn't want this— this whole arrangement— to be you living as a guest in my home. I wanted to make this our place. Both of us. Together." >Stunned for the second time today, you don't respond >How do you even begin to respond to something like that >That's why his apartment looks like a default model unit? >Not because he's a normie with no taste, but because he wanted to build upon it... with you? >That's not possible >None of this makes any fucking sense >Nopony has ever given a shit about what you want >Dad impressed it on you that no one would ever want a piece of shit like you >Fuck, don't open that door, Floor >(Not yet at least) >Anon keeps claiming to do all these things for you >And you don't even know if you want them >Everything is so complicated >It never ends >You just want life to go back to being simple >Back to the way it was >Before you ever met him >You look up at Anon, he looks back at you >He can see the ambivalence on your face and you can see it tearing him up inside >Neither of you knowing what to say to one another >So you just... >Let it go "You still want to show me the internet?" >And just like that, everything is back to normal between you >As normal as can be expected, anyway >He lets you sit at his desk chair while he hunches over beside you, teaching you how to operate the computer >He shows you the streaming sites with all his favorite TV shows and the message boards where you talk about them >And you just listen to him go on and on, occasionally glancing up at him, leaning over your shoulder >He's so close, his hand casually resting on the seat back behind you >While you're very interested in the subject, you also like just listening to him explain it >But fuck if this internet doesn't have everything >You throw out a random topic, and sure enough he digs up everything on it "Fuckin' internet, how does it work?" >He smirks down at you >"I don't know, tubes and shit." >You sit there forever, listening to him explain all the different aspects >He clearly spends a lot of time on here >This must be what he's up to every time he's holed up in his room >"...and then, there are the rules of the internet." >Of course there are rules, nothing this glorious could come without a price >"But the only one you need to remember is Rule 34." >You look back up at him "What is it?" >"It's, uh..." >He hesitates a moment >"How about I just show you?" >He pulls up some site called paheal >"Give me a character, anyone, doesn't matter which." >You give him horsebando's name >He's always the first to come to mind >So pure and sweet, he is >Anon reaches over to the keyboard and punches his name in >As soon as he hits enter, you gasp >Pages upon pages of lewd images of that hunky stallion >A collection of smut unlike any you could have ever imagined >You instinctively clench your legs together as you feel The Quivering come on >Anon keeps scrolling, amused by your zealous interest >There's art of every conceivable position, starring him in all his hung glory >Uggghhh >You're finding it difficult to (quite literally) contain yourself >But you really don't want a repeat of your first night here >So, with great resolve, you tear your eyes away from the screen, to Anon leaning over you "How's that even possible? He's from an Equestrian manga!" >He stands upright once again and shrugs >"The internet is, like, 80% porn. They have everybody." >Absentmindedly, you turn back to face the screen >Earth just got a lot more interesting >The next few days fly by >You get really into the internet >It's a little strange, because the computer is in Anon's room >And you feel a little guilty asking to use it all the time >But he agrees like it's nothing >It's hard to tell, but he seems a little... giddier, having you spend time in his room >Especially when he's there with you >But you're shit at reading social cues so it's probably nothing >Who has time for face-to-face interaction anyway, when the internet is waiting to be explored >Anon even let you print some pictures to put up in your room >There's so much fan art out there, the mind boggles >Especially the lewd stuff >The stuff that gets you ridiculously horny, and makes you want to enjoy it in private >But you didn't want to ask Anon to print you some porn, and you didn't know how to do it yourself >Plus, you can't exactly rub one out in front of Anon's computer like some lunatic >So you've resorted to banking your favorites in your memory, to be recalled later in bed each night >It's not ideal, but compartmentalization is key >Today is just like any other, you're clicking away, browsing the imageboards >You love posting random shit, the people on the other side having no clue you're actually a pony >Without fingers, though, typing is a chore >You have to use an unsharpened pencil in your mouth >When your jaw gets tired, you simply type with your tongue >(Only when Anon's not watching) >You just have to remember to wipe the keyboard dry each time when you're done >You're in the middle of crafting an elegant shitpost when you hear a knock at the door >Which confuses you for a second, because this is Anon's room >He pokes his head in >"Hey." >You return a soft "hey" accompanied by a tiny involuntary smile >"I was going out to get us dinner, and I had an idea. You want to come with?" >Oh wow >Outside >You loathed it in Equestria, and in Earth? >Well, you really can't imagine what such alien terrors await you >All you know is that you can't possibly handle it "No thanks, I'm— I'm good." >You feign nonchalance >He pushes the door open and steps inside, clearly also acting casual >"Hey, uh, Floor?" "Yeah?" >He stands there awkwardly. "Well, it's been two weeks since you got here..." >Has it really been that long? >It feels like two days >"And, well, I've sorta noticed..." >He keeps pausing "Come on, spit it out already." >"You, uh... You haven't showered yet." >Oh shit >"I can show you how to use it if that's the problem." >In an instant, the tables have flipped, and now you're the bumbling awkward one "No, no, I-I can do it." >"Okay, well, the place is on the other side of town, so if you hop in now, you should be done by the time I'm back with dinner." "Sounds good." >Sounds not good >He heads out, leaving you sitting there like a fool >He thinks you're a dirty pig >You ARE a dirty pig >Too ashamed to admit the truth >That your lack of bathing is not because you're in a new world >After a minute, you hear the front door open and shut, leaving you home alone >You climb down from the desk chair >Okay, Floor, a shower >You can do that >You go down the hall to the bathroom >It was hard enough going from the convenience of bedroom bottles to this weirdly-shaped toilet every time you needed to piss >Now you have to start showering regularly? >You never really noticed your musk, having long since grown used to it >But for Anon... it must be nauseating >You turn the dials and let the hot water run >Standing outside the tub, you stare at the stream >You can't remember the last time you showered >You never exercised or went out, so it wasn't like you ever got THAT dirty, right? >It just always felt like a waste of time >But more than that, it felt uncomfortable >You didn't like getting pushed out of your comfort zone >You took comfort in everything familiar >And standing under the water spray, choking on the steam >It may as well be drowning and suffocating to you >Slowly, you step back from the tub, feeling almost claustrophobic >You leave the bathroom, the shower still running >Anon will be gone for a while, you can put it off a bit >You go back into Anon's room >You'll need a towel >Of course, he gave you a towel when you arrived, but you can't remember what the hell you did with it >Probably used it to contain the aftermath of one of your masturbation sessions >Looking between his closet, and the dirty laundry piled on the floor, you see two towels >One clean, one used >And instinctually, you select the one that suits you >Because you hate yourself >... >Just shut up already >You lift the towel in your mouth >As you do, you catch a whiff of Anon >For a split-second, your brain registers it as him back home early >In surprise, you drop the towel and stumble backward, colliding with his bed >You step on something round poking out from underneath and trip, falling flat on the floor >As you open your eyes, you see the object lying directly in front of your face >At the end of your nose there's an elaborate horse pussy >Holy shit >ANON HAS A SEX TOY >I mean, so do you, but that's no surprise >And it's not like your toys are human-shaped >...oh >You can see why Anon failed to mention it >Sitting upright, you glance down between your legs for a comparison >Whoever the hell made this got everything right >There's even a cute little button clit >After you finish examining it, you screw the cap back on and shove it back under his bed >On your way out, in a moment of weakness, you dip your head and bury your muzzle in Anon's towel again >You haven't smelled this since you hugged Anon two weeks ago >It felt almost... safe >Is that possible? >Can you smell security? >Whatever it was, it calmed you >It was natural >It was his >Then, as always, you realize the optics of what you're doing and shame yourself into stopping >Why are you like this, you creep? >You drag yourself out of Anon's room, into the hall >The shower is still running >Not now >Go across the hall into your own room >How has it been two weeks >It felt like time was dragging on at first, and then everything flew by >You got comfortable >You started having fun >You even began to trust Anon >Two weeks >That means you get to send a letter >You never wrote one for the first week >Didn't your caseworker say she'd visit, too? >She might ask why you haven't wrote >So maybe you should now >Just have to say you're fine so she doesn't have an excuse to poke further into your life >You go to your desk and take a pencil between your teeth >May your colorful little desktop figurines inspire you as you write the first thing in who knows how long >Probably since you first sent your application to the bridle service dear >Oh fuck what was her name >Where did you put that booklet with her info >Oh forget it you're not looking for that thing right now ive been here, living with anon for two weeks now i know its your job to make sure im fine and stuff, so im alright we arent getting married or anything, sorry we arent even dating or anything just living together i know your service likes to brag about its perfect match rate or whatever but its just too weird for me to be with a human sorry if that bums you out i mean theres nothing wrong with him personally if he was a stallion i might even want to jump his bones its just like weird i guess because hes actually pretty cool when you get to know him i dont know how you did it but we are kinda similar in ways that you couldnt have known like i first came here and his home was really normal and boring but it turns out hes neet so thats cool still i didnt really like it here so i was gonna leave and it was even his idea which i didnt expect, i thought id be trapped here but before i went i found out his clean boring home was just an illusion cause he paid someone to make it clean before i came because hes really messy and he wanted me to feel comfortable which was kinda sweet even tho it did the opposite but i dont blame him because he didnt know so i said fuck it and gave him a shot which was very cool and brave of me he helped me get all set up and we hung out together but hes still so normal and im so weird and THEN i finally see his room and guess what hes weird like me, hes into some really cool stuff like manga he was just hiding it because he thought i wouldnt want to know and he isnt boring he just took down all his decorations so he could start over with me which is crazy right because why would he care what i like but i also really like that he cares because nopony ever has its like he keeps trying to hide his real self to not scare me off but every time i peel back another layer i find something new and cool but when it comes to him peeling me i feel the opposite, he won't like me and its so weird because all these things in common say we are compatible right but... i dont feel that way i mean i feel lots of things when i think about him i think about him lots like about his human smell and the nice way he talks to me and all that stuff feels really good to think about but its also really scary its fun getting to know him but i really dont want him to know me cause once he knows me then its all over he wont like me anymore i dont even know how i feel, its all so confusing im having fun with him and sometimes i think about wanting more but then i think about actually getting more and then im like no way him knowing me and him touching me and him being close with me that shit is so terrifying i dont know how other ponies do it i crave intimacy and its all i ever wanted since i was little but im scared of letting him get close and i think i want him but im broken and ill always be broken and im afraid ill never be hap >You drop the pencil from your mouth, trembling too much to hold it steady >As you lean back from the page, you wonder what the fuck just happened >This was supposed to be a simple letter telling your caseworker you're fine >How did you end up here? >You take a minute to steady your nerves, in awe of the emotional outpouring that just occurred >Of course there's no way you're mailing this mess to her >You crumple the page up and toss it into the trash can brimming with soda cans and empty noodle cups >You were just brutally honest with yourself, and you don't like feeling so vulnerable >Besides, you don't actually like Anon, he's great, but he d— >The sound of keys rattling against the front door >He's back? How long have you been writing? >Oh shit, the SHOWER >You sprint out into the hall and dive into the bathroom, shutting off the water as the front door swings open >"Floor!" he calls out, "I've got dinner! You out yet?" >You meet him in the kitchen, struggling to hide that you're out of breath from a four-second sprint >"Hey," he says, setting down the bag, "how was your shower?" >It's pretty obvious that you didn't shower >So you don't know why you said this "Good." >You went to bed early tonight >That stupid letter >You didn't know how you really felt until you spilled it all out on the paper >Before all this, you were never uncomfortably honest with yourself >You never had to be >You could live in denial and nopony paid any mind >Now every day you have to face a stranger >And in doing so, face the truth >Because you like him but also you don't >And it's so complicated and it's not getting any easier >So after dinner you just said goodnight and locked yourself in your room >Now you're lying in bed pretending nothing's wrong >And how do you usually cope? >You rub yourself raw until you end up passing out >That sounds really tempting right now >So you grab your dildo from the depths of your closet and return to bed >Horsebando will give you a good rutting until you're good and sleepy, just like he always does >Lying beside him, you carefully guide the toy down to your pussy >He might just be a picture on a pillow but he can fuck like no other >Especially after the pictures you saw on the internet >Closing your eyes, you eagerly recall them as you press it against your pussy >It feels so tangible with the porn fresh in your mind >You can practically sense him leaning over you, propped up by his two front hooves on either side >And his girthy cock slowly pressing into you >His hot, wet breath against your face, the stallion claims you as his own >You're happy, because you've only ever wanted to be his, and nothing more >You are a good wife to him and all is well >It soothes you instantly >Now he's inside you, pumping away slowly, using your body gleefully >He has such cute grunts when he fucks you, you can hear it so clearly in your head >Eyes squeezed shut, you stick your tongue out and lick his face, lapping at it lovingly, leaving a long, wet stain on the pillow >That always makes him smile >Your dirty little habits are adorable to him >He appreciates you like nopony else will >One hoof draped around horsebando, the other guiding his cock in and out of your pussy >Getting him slick with your juices just the way he likes it >Each thrust delivering a burst of ecstasy, lying back obediently while he mounts you >He is so tender, so affectionate >He leans into you and kisses, making you feel so loved >The object of his affections, the apple of his eye >You've never felt safer than you do under him >Eventually he finally breaks away to breathe, but he doesn't stop the love there >He brings his hoof down up to your face and runs his fingers through your mane >Wait, what? >Your eyes open and your pumping slows a beat as you catch yourself >You meant hoof, not fingers >As the tension begins to slip, you fight to keep it, shutting your eyes and continuing to slide the toy in and out >Horsebando is not as clear anymore, his shape is fuzzy and hard to visualize >To compensate you start pumping faster, pretending he's getting more forceful >You love the gentle stuff, but when he gets going he's an unstoppable fuck machine and it feels amazing >Trying to remember all the lewd pictures you saw to get the reference poses back in your head >You go back to when you were sitting at the computer, scrolling the art sites >But that was when Anon poked his head in >Anon? >Suddenly horsebando isn't on top of you anymore >Anon is >But— no— >Suddenly you feel your muscles clench unbelievably tight around the dildo and >FUCK does that feel incredible >Immediately you stop resisting it >You don't know why he's here, you just want it to keep going >In and out his cock slides, each thrust in sync with your winks >As soon as he buries himself balls deep inside you, the walls of your pussy constrict around him like an anaconda around its prey >Except in this scenario you're the snake, which is kind of a mixed metaphor >But fuck internal logic because you're building to an orgasm faster than you ever thought possible >Clear as day, Anon's on top of you, pounding you into tomorrow, and you're letting it happen >His arms wrapped around you to hold you safe while he fucks you, his giant human body weighing you down >It's a different sensation, one you've never felt before >It's all too good for you to hesitate, you don't want to think, you just want to cum all over him "Yes... Anon... yes..." >His pace speeds up almost as if he knows what's coming >Of course he knows, he's in your head >He's using you like his little fuck toy >You know the one >The one he keeps under his bed and looks just like your own pussy >That's why he likes it so much >That's why you're his favorite >That's why you want him to cum inside you >And that's when it hits in full force >The best orgasm of your life, sending shudders throughout your body >The dildo buried deep inside you, with your legs wrapped around it, clenching it in place >Squeezing every last drop of sensation out of it as your hips will allow >After a good twenty seconds, your muscles start to get sore, and your thighs finally unclench >Your tightly-wound body collapses as you sprawl out on the bed "Holy shit." >You just masturbated to Anon >And that's... weird >Feeling ambivalent, you look over to your left >And your stomach sinks >Horsebando witnessed the whole thing >You've never felt more guilty in your life >For reasons you can't explain you're on the verge of tears >You hate what you just did and you hate yourself for doing it >But it felt good so you just let it happen >Like those sluts from high school you've resented all your life >You're no better than any of them >You betrayed your one true love "...do you hate me?" >Of course he does >You're such a fucking mess >Look at yourself >You're crying because you mentally cheated on your daki and now you're begging for forgiveness >How much more screwed up can you get? >You pull the pillow out from under your head and smother your face with it >WHY DO YOU LIKE ANON >YOU STUPID SLUT >FUCKING >KILL >YOURSELF "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" >You scream into the pillow, drowning out your cries in memory foam >You're so broken you're so broken you're so broken >Just like dad always said, right? >The tears won't stop flowing >You just mop them up with the pillow, slowly suffocating yourself >It's what you deserve >Whatever sliver of denial you sheltered in before was gone now >You pretended you didn't actually like Anon because you couldn't be attracted to a human >Maybe that was a delusion but it was safe >Now? >Now you have nothing >Nothing but the hideous truth >The proof is in the stained sheets >You're a pathetic loser with no standards >You can't even stand to look at horsebando anymore >All you see on his face is disappointment >Because you can't even be a good wife to your fictional husband >So how the fuck can you ever expect someone to love you back?