More shorts? What a tragedy. A consolidation of multiple threads' worth since PonePaste went down during it.

---

">Kidnapped and raped over and over until she gets pregnant.
>Now shes actually pregnant.
>Fluttershy's feeling when the courts decide a mare can't rape a stallion and you must take care of the foal.
"Oh no" indeed."
- Anonymous

>Fluttershy goes into labour.
>She's in a hospital bed thrashing around and screaming as the baby emerges.
>You watch off to one side - as per court order - and watch Equestria's latest abomination enter the world.
>The baby emerges, along with what sounds like the triumphant scream of trumpets.
>It's a miniature Discord, wearing a bedazzled red suit and top hat.
>The nurse delivering him faints.
>He cackles and enlarges himself to his proper size, the doctors in the room start applauding and laughing along with him.
>An unseen brass band leaps into an energetic performance.
>"Hello! Hello fillies and gentlecolts, and welcome to Chaos'd! I'm your host, Discord!"
>Audience applause can be heard - a full seating arrangement packed with cheering ponies has appeared at the end of the room, there's dozens of them.
>Harsh stage lights are directed at the sweat and juice-soaked bed.
>Discord sticks a microphone in Fluttershy's face, grinning.
>"Well well well, I know I can be hard work, but you didn't have to -labour- so much back there, 'mom'!"
>The audience erupts into laughter.
>Fluttershy looks like she's just been through The Somme. She stares unblinkingly past Discord with not even a twitch.
>Discord tugs his collar and makes an exaggerated face at the audience.
>"Sheesh, really living up to your name as the world champion of "hush", aren't you?"
>More laughter.
>He slides on up to you, draping an arm around your shoulders.
>"So. Dad," he pokes your chest. "How do you feel? Are you thrilled to have me as your son?"
"You spent... eleven months in there," you say, your voice hollow.
>"I did! I always did prefer a commitment to the joke, so what would you say, would you say you've been Chaos'd?"
"I-I don't know what that is--"
>"I'll take that as a yes! We got one, fillies and gentlecolts!"
>The audience roars its approval, confetti falls from the ceiling, the band blares a crescendo, and an attractive mare swaggers out from behind a curtain beaming and holding a present on her back.
>"Anon, or Dad, I should say, for being such a good sport, we'd like to present you with this FREE toaster!"
>Lo and behold, the box contains a toaster with Discord's face on it and the glaring 'Chaos'd' logo above it.
>"I'm sure you'll have as great a time making toast as you did making babies with Fluttershy! Alright folks, that's all we have time for!" the band strikes up a reprise of the show's main tune to the rapturous approval of the crowd. "See you all next time! You've been a wonderful audience, I love you all! And until next time, staaay random!"
>Everything - the lights, audience, medical staff, band, and host - vanish in a flash of light.
>The hospital room is silent.
>You look to Fluttershy, who's still shell-shocked.
>After a minute of you trying to process what happened, she shrieks.
>"WHAT."

>"WHAT THE -FUCK-."

---

"As far as I know, only Tatzljack can do that."
- Anonymous, regarding Tatzljack

>Twilight is wearing that look again.
>The one she wears when she's done something wrong, but won't admit it.
>You've seen it more than you want to; the restless movements, the terse lips, taut cheeks, and eyes that never linger on anything for more than a second.
>That she's teleported into your bath again is also quite telling.
>Unfortunately, you were using it.
>Her soaked body shuffles, matted fur pressing against your bare skin, her loins worryingly close to yours.
>Ordinarily you'd assume the same thing anyone would assume in this situation, but again you have to reconcile your position with the look in her eyes.
"Twilight."
>"Hm?" said eyes snap to you, hold for a breath, then go back to bouncing between your shampoo bottles and just about everything else in your bathroom.
>A rubber duck floats on by, ignorant to an awkward tension as dense as the steam hanging in the air.
"Something you need to tell me?"
>"Oh, nothing. Nothing at all."
"Just teleport into my bath because you felt like it?"
>"Uh huh."
"Nothing you may have done wrong?"
>"No, why would you think that?"
"Just a hunch."
>She makes a derisive noise and goes back to studying your floor tiles as if they were some unsolved formula.
>You shift slightly to relieve some of the pressure on your tailbone squashed against the floor of the tub. She's a very heavy unicorn - far too many burgers, not that you'd tell her.
"So what--"
>"I did something to Applejack."
>There we are. You sigh though your nose.
"Care to elaborate?"
>"She wanted to try something. It was her idea."
"What did--"
>"It was her idea, Anon. I'm not lying"
"Alright, alright, I believe you. What did she want to try?"
>"Wanted to know if I could make it easier for her to grab stray apples. Said bucking wasn't enough. She wanted to do it without magic."
"And?"
>"Trans--" she swallows and bobs her head, "transmogrified her."
>Your brow furrows and finally, for once, you manage to lock gazes with Twilight.
>She stares at you, rigid. Her pulse beats faster the longer she watches you.
>"It'll be fine," she blurts, "gonna need your help real quick though--"
"What the hell did you do."
>"I'll just be going, meet me at--"
>You grip her horn before she can spirit away and, ignoring the involuntary moan she gives, drag her head closer to yours.
>If anyone was to walk in right now, they could be forgiven for assuming that your respective positions meant something else entirely.
>In lieu of any debauchery, you intone directly into her face.
"What the hell did you do."

*

>Fully dressed and fully dried, you find yourself stood above and beyond of the many orchards at Sweet Apple Acres.
>Twilight - also dry but no less unsettled - stands at your side, a hollow look about her.
>Applejack hasn't noticed you both yet, and moves - more dances - from one tree to another.
>From the looks of it, these particular trees had already been cleared - barely a handful of apples between them remained.
>Even so, Applejack regards the stranglers with a scrutinous eye and a smirk.
>She opens her mouth wide, far wider than it ought to be capable of, and you almost fear that her jaw has dislocated.
>But a bulbous green tendril lashes out from her maw, stretching the length of several ponies to swipe the remaining apple from the tree and drop it into the bucket beside her.
>Applejack's scaly, spiny tail swishes in what you can only view as satisfaction, and her massive furry ears twitch accordingly.
>She moves onto the next tree, and you look down at Twilight.
>Twilight takes a deep, shuddering breath.
"What."
>"I know."
"The Christ."
>"I know."
"Is Applejack."
>"I know! I know, Anon. It was an experiment in transmogrification, I didn't expect it to not only work, but to be permanent!"
"Well are you gonna change her back? If Celestia finds out--"
>"I'm already well aware of what will happen in Celestia finds out. We keep this between us."
"So what was the point in bringing me in on this? Go and fix her!"
>"I... can't."
"Why not?"
>"She doesn't want to change back."
"So pin her down and do it anyway, we can't have Applejack be... what even -is- that?"
>"Hybrid blend of taztlwurm and pony. I call it a taztlpony. She's Tatzljack."
"Stop saying 'tatzl'."
>"Sorry. But anyway, I've tried that already."
"And?"
>"She's, uh, fast. And strong. And the girls refuse to help because 'she's happy the way she is'."
"Explain."
>"Uhh," Twilight looks skyward and squints, thinking aloud. "Rainbow thinks it's awesome because she's got a dragon tail, Fluttershy is jealous because she's part animal, Rarity is proud of her for 'living her truth', and Pinkie just thinks its funny."
"Ah. So I was a last resort."
>"Kind of. But I do think you can help."
"In what way?"
>"She's, um..." Twilight chews her lip and meanders her head rather than continuing.
"Go on?"
>"Tatzlwurms are renowned for their, uh, extreme mating habits."
"And?"
>"And Applejack has inherited that. She's fine with me and the girls, but she's -really- aggressive towards males."
"How do you figure?"
>"She tried to jump Big Mac. He's locked in the farmhouse with Granny Smith and Applebloom for their own safety. I've had the Mayor issue an announcement to every stallion in Ponyville to stay away whilst I deal with the issue. Except you, obviously."
"So... what do you need -me- for?"
>She looks up at you, saying nothing.
>You stare back down, the gears turning.
"Bait."
>"Bait."
"Not a fan of that idea, Twiggles."
>"Not much else we can do, I can't get close or she'll attack me with her gross tongue-things."
"Things? Plural?"
>"She has three tongues now, and is a -heck- of a lot faster. She's part predator now, so it works."
"At least the transmogrification was a success, eh?"
>She gives you a weak smile.
"So I just keep her distracted whilst you get close and zap her with... whatever?"
>"Sure, whatever, let's go with that. Just get her in a position where I can get close and she won't notice."
"I can see this ending badly."
>"I've considered that possibility, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make."
"You're not getting ear scratches for like, a month, after this."
>She hangs her head with a heavy sigh.
>"I know..."

*

>Tatzljack (stupid name) hauls the bucket of stray apples up the path to the next orchard with a spring to her step.
>It's quite the step, too; she's noticeably faster, more agile than she used to be.
>She weaves through the grove like a lynx, her ordinarily plodding movements sleek and silent; she drifts over tree roots and grass like a whispering wind, leaving no trace of herself.
>You, by comparison, do you best not to trip over every other fallen twig.
>Here, in the heart of one of the larger orchards - also largely clear of apples - Tatzljack comes to a stop.
>She twists her head around, sharp eyes darting this way and that, her ears, almost the size of her head proper, flicking in response to the slightest sound.
>So you shouldn't be surprised when you break a stick underfoot and an ear flicks at you.
>Her head turns so fast it's a miracle she didn't break her own neck, and you stare stock-still into the predatory visage of a mare you once knew.
>No point hiding - you step out from behind the tree and wave.
"Hi, AJ. Just come to say... well, hi. Heard you had a new look. It's uh, very nice. Very you."
>The pony(?) stands a deer in headlights, not a hair on her entire body shifts, even from the breeze, as though frozen in time.
>You wet your lips and shrug, your hands stuffed in your pockets to hide your clenched, sweating fists.
"Wanna chat about stuff? We could talk about... apples. You still like apples, right?"
>Tatzl-- sod it, -Applejack's- face contorts glacially, her neutral expression stretching into a wide grin with far too many sharpened teeth.
>"Hhhowdy, -partner-," she purrs.
"Oh good, you can still talk. Howdy, what's uh, what's up?"
>"Just lookin' after these here apples, little suckers managed to get away from me before, but now I can snag 'em," a tongue extends from her mouth and waves at you; she bobs her eyebrows for effect.
"That something Twilight hooked you up with?"
>"Oh, yeah, yeah, it was Twi. Real kind of her. She wanted to undo it, bless her little horseshoes, but I don't think I'll be doin' that."
"No?"
>"No," she takes a confident step forward, "no, I don't think I will."
>Her eyes haven't left you since she started speaking, you don't think she's even blinked. The green protrusion that is her tongue (or one of them, at least) licks over her lips.
>"Say, I've always liked you, Anon, you know that?"
"That right?" you move back slightly, she presses on.
>"Yeah. Exotic, sure, but there's somethin' about you. Makes a lonely farmgirl like me pine somethin' fierce."
"You sure that's not the tinsel-worm part of you speaking?"
>"Tatzlwurm, an' whether it is or isn't, I don't rightly care."
"And," she's getting close now, too close, "why's that?"
>"Cause right now whatever part'a me's shoutin' at me to make a few foals is makin' a mighty good argument, an' I reckon you can help me with that, so..."
>She pauses, a hoof hesitant to take the next step.
>Your body is poised, ready to spring, and she can clearly see that, her tension reflecting your own.
>Her jaw hangs open, and three unnervingly large tendrils slither out, all glistening with spittle.
>Applejack doesn't need to speak to make her point clear, and despite Twilight's earlier plan you don't feel like sticking around to find out what they can do.
>You bolt.
>Applejack follows with a gleeful howl that echoes through the trees.
>Long legs carry you over nook and root, trunks pass you in a blur.
>Thundering hooves herald a coming storm from behind, and as you see the edge of the orchard and behold the open path ahead, you know that you can outrun her.
>Quick as ponies are, their shorter gait isn't a match for a human sprinting unimpeded.
>You allow a grin.
>And yelp as you're torn backwards.
>Something hot and moist has grabbed your leg, and you're wrenched off balance, landing on your front with a winding gasp.
>Another slimy appendage snags your other thrashing limb, and a third coils around your neck.
>Your arms snatch at the grass, grasping for any tuft stubborn enough to hold you.
>None can.
>You watch with swelling dread as your sunlit hope retreats from you, your body pulled away from safety.
>The twisting tongues release you, but a solid weight is on you immediately.
>You're flipped onto your back and stare into the merciless eyes of Applejack.
>Her tongues drift around in front of her, gently probing your face as if sampling you.
>They retreat back into her mouth, and she flashes that hungry grin again.
>"I knew you'd taste as good as you smell. We should do that again sometime, you runnin' from me an' me chasin'. Next time I'll give you more a head start though, ain't fair for me to go after you so soon, but Celestia knows I've got urges."
"How about we just stay here and chat? You can tell me about your day, and the apples, or whatever it is you talk about."
>"Naw, ain't necessary. We'll let our bodies do the talkin'. Well, I'll be talkin', you'll be screamin'. Or, maybe if you do a good enough job we'll both be screamin', an' if that happens then hoo boy, you ain't never leavin' this orchard again if you can make me scream."
>She presses her hooves to your chest, their morphed keratin edges are sharper than they were, and she has no difficulty tearing open your shirt.
>Her tongues drift down and stroke your skin, a generous trail of saliva left in their wake.
>The mare groans and shudders.
>"Sun above, you taste good. C'mere--"
>She grips your head, forces her lips to yours, and your eyes bulge at the intrusion of three oversized tongues into your mouth.
>Two of them make do bludgeoning your own woefully outmatched tongue into submission, and the other seems content to explore the farthest reaches of your throat, caressing your tonsils and dipping even further down your oesophagus.
>She moans into it - funnily enough her breath tastes more like tomatoes than apples.
>The oral abuse was bad enough, but your body writhes with the sudden lack of oxygen.
>You struggle, hands pressing against Applejack's body.
>She pushes against you harder, her vocalisations louder in response.
>The corners of your vision throb, your panic deepens.
>You can't speak over the obstructions, but you grunt as best you can.
>Applejack seems to interpret this as consent, and her hooves wrap around the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss.
>Your mind screams for release, your every instinct raging.
>A fist punches against Applejack, you don't realise you've even started doing it until the mare is growling with each weakening strike against her.
>Whatever the transmogrification did, she's far tougher than she used to be, even by Applejack's standards. You can't shift her.
>Animal terror is all you know as your head beats like a frantic drum, and a fire burns in each lung.
>Applejack's euphoric face and gyrating form is all you can see as you fade from the world.

*

>You jolt awake and immediately retch, coughing up great wads of spit, though you aren't sure whose it is.
>For a moment you heave, gulping down as much air as you can and holding back the nausea.
>You see an orange form beside you on the grass, unconscious.
>"Hey, you, you're finally awake."
"Bwuh?"
>"Hah, sorry, I've always wanted to say that. Anyway, good job, Anon!" Twilight steps into view from behind you, all smiles. "I was able to get close enough to hit her with the spell."
>A second look at the prone body of Applejack reveals an ordinary tail, ordinary ears, and a mercifully ordinary pink tongue hanging out the side of her mouth.
>The mare snorts in her sleep, drooling on the grass.
"Wh-what took you so long? Could you not find me?"
>"Huh? Oh, I was hanging back behind you the whole time, I was just waiting until she was -super- into it before I made my move. Was kinda hot, actually."
>She taps her chin.
>"Suppose I could have intervened when she grabbed you by the tree line, but eh, hindsight is twenty-twenty. The important point is she's back to normal, and all is well."
>Twilight beams at you. You glare in response.
"Forget what I said earlier, you're going three months without ear scratches."
>"Horseapples."

---

">Princess Luna's attempts at wooing proved unsuccessful.
>She realizes it's about time she took a more...forceful approach.
>...Ominous pause in the greentext...
>So she moves away from using subtle body language and eye fluttering, and instead starts composing sonnets and love ballads in their name.
>Surely this would gain her the affection she needed to get some dick."
- Anonymous (man, to HELL with sonnets)

>You come to your window, yawning, and lean out, peering into the night to find a familiar figure stood in your - now trampled - flowerbed.
"Lu... Luna?"
>"Fair Anonymous! I have come for you once more!"
"You've broken into my garden at two in the morning again, you mean."
>"The garden gnomes cannot keep me from you, love, no matter how frightening they may be."
"Uh huh. You're paying for them too, by the way. On top of the bench you sat on and broke."
>"No price is too high for your affections."
"Amazed you even managed to break it. You've got some heft to you, lady."
>"My heft is legendary. It can all be yours, if only you would have me!"
"Fat chance. Pun intended."
>"Your words are like vipers."
"Yup. So what do you want this time?"
>"Rejoice, for I have written you a sonnet!"
"...What."
>"A declaration of my love!"
"I know what a sonnet is, Luna--"
>"Pray, call me Nightmare Moon! For only a Queen is worthy of such a glorious Lord!"
"Does Celestia know you've gone and turned all... dark-y, again?"
>"She shouted, yes, but her opinions are irrelevant. I must have you, Anonymous, even if I must resort to such desperate measures as this."
"If I listen to it will you go back to Canterlot?"
>"In the unlikely event that you decline my affections, then so be it."
"Alright. Lay it on me then."
>Nightmare Moon clears her throat.

>"Art thou perhaps my muse, gentle Anon?"
>"Your turgid length, but how it sings to me!"
>"Ere long my night of stars and moon does wan,"
>"At your divinest countenance I see!"
>"But Celestia can't abide this love,"
>"From Tartarus her scorn, like barbs, does bite,"
>"Decrees her bile to stab us from above,"
>"This witch becloaked in hate as pure as light."
>"To gardens far away we flee, O heart!"
>"Be not foreign from Us for but a spell,"
>"Such pain if from your touch I am apart,"
>"The shadows leap and trap me in such Hell."
>"So please, if not you, I'll resort to smut,"
>"Now would you please ram your rod up my butt."

>...
"You've just wanted anal this entire time."
>"Verily. My ponut quivers in anticipation."
"I..."
>"Are you not impressed? Do you not imagine what my pucker's embrace would feel like upon your sovereign member? It it tight, and moist. I can, and have, sheared many a cucumber with but a squeeze!"
"...Alright, get inside, but we are telling -no one- about this."
>"Huzzah!"

>And so, Anon and Nightmare Moon did the deed. Right up the butt.
>There was must tongue-lashing, and much hefty mare panting. And it was good.

---

"Who do you complain to when you are being sexually harassed by national heroes?
I suppose you could complain to the Princess.
But she would probably sexually harass you too."
- Anonymous

>Slow day.
>And thank Mother for that.
>You allow yourself to slump a bit, your ordinarily perfect posture sagging in a scandalous manner.
>If the nobles could see you now.
>Or Luna, for that matter.
>Better keep an ear open, lest she barge in through one of the side doors again and catch you slipping.
>She's redeveloped a whine you've not heard since she was a filly, and you're not a fan of it, especially when she uses it to berate you for not being "proper" before the public.
>You hum to yourself, enjoying the enveloping silence.
>Perhaps you should make days like this mandatory - a day where you can sit in your throne room and enjoy the peace and quiet it brings.
>Alas, the nobles would get uppity if you did.
>Even so--
>The throne room doors are pushed open, and the herald's voice sings into the hall, echoing off the vaunted ceiling.
>"Your Highness. Presenting Mr. Anonymous of Ponyville."
>You quirk an eyebrow, but give your assent accordingly.
>The human in question shuffles through the doors almost reluctantly, looking about at the perfectly sculpted pillars, windows, and guards, his dishevelled appearance at odds with the pristine décor.
>He catches sight of you at the far end, and you resist the urge to give him a little wave if only to put him at ease a bit.
>Poor thing looks lost.
>Even so, he draws himself up to his full height and - a set of thoroughly scrunched papers in hand - marches to the throne.
>He'd probably have gone further, but he's stopped in his tracks by a spear from one of the guards at the foot of the dais barring his way.
>"Far enough, citizen. You may address Her Majesty from there."
>"Right, sure," he gives an awkward nod.
>You smile down at him.
"Hello Anonymous. What brings you all the way to Canterlot? May I be of assistance?"
>"Yeah, hi, Celest--" the same guard shoots him a look, "Princess, uh, Celestia."
>He clears his throat in a fist.
>"I'm here about the harassment."
"Harassment?" You frown. "What sort of harassment?"
>"You not get my letter?"
"I'm afraid I've fallen somewhat behind on my reading of late, nothing too major, I hope?"
>You narrow your eyes at him.
"Nothing based on your species?"
>"Not completely, but kinda, yeah."
>You sigh through your nose.
>Centuries pass, and so do generations of ponies, but prejudices never seem to die with them.
>"To give you the short version, Twiggles and her band of merry mares won't leave me the hell alone."
"Oh? By 'Twiggles' I assume you mean Twilight?"
>"Yeah, her. She's been a pain in my ass for a fortnight now."
"I am sure that she is merely curious - you are the only human in Equestria, after all."
>"I guess, but that doesn't mean she has to keep trying to molest me in public."
"I..."
>Every guard in the room breaks protocol to either look baffled or give confused glances to each other.
>You stare at the human, mouth ajar slightly.
"Come... again, Anonymous?"
>"Twilight. She keeps-- well, to be honest it's mostly her, Rarity, and Pinkie, but the three of them keep trying to get me naked in public. Twilight says it's for field research, Rarity says she's trying to perform emergency surgery on a split seam, and Pinkie just wants to suck my dick."
>He sniffs.
>"Yeah, Pinkie isn't subtle. Like, at all."
>The man gestures with his papers, batting them with his other hand a few times.
>"The lady outside said I needed to deliver a complaint on paper, so I've written everything down here if you want to take a look. Apologies for the handwriting, but I spent my entire life typing on keyboards, I'm still not used to quills and ink."
>He looks at a guard.
>"Feathers make a crap writing tool, am I right? What's a guy gotta do to get a fountain pen around here?"
>The guard stares at him, aghast.
>You use the barest trace of magic to retrieve the papers from Anonymous and float them over to yourself, eyes drifting over the chicken scratch.
>It's absolutely terrible, but you spend most of your days reading treatise and drafts written by ponies who had neither the time or intelligence to write properly, so you're used to deciphering madness.

>' Hi Celestia. Big fan. Twilight and the other Elements of Harmony keep fondling me. Fluttershy keeps giving me food with drugs in it. Pinkie keeps reading my mail and replacing it with invitations to a '2-pony pervert party'. On Friday Applejack dragged me to a shotgun wedding, only instead of her dad with a shotgun it was Big Mac with a sledgehammer. The effect was the same. Legally I am now apparently married to Applejack. Please nullify the wedding, and also get the rest of them off my ass. Literally and figuratively, as Twilight just figured out how to give herself a cock with magic, and she and Rarity are REALLY eager to try them out. Rainbow Dash is okay actually, but her mane is offensive to look at, so I'd like her to fuck off as well. Thank you. Lots of love, Anonymous. xoxoxo. '

>Your head glacially raises from the parchment and you continue staring at Anonymous.
>He gives you a forced smile, then it drops.
>"So that's fine, yeah? You can use your queen magic to make them all leave me alone, or something?"
"Sorry, you're -married- to Applejack?"
>"Well I mean I'm not sure it's -technically- legal, can you get married under duress in Equestria?"
"It has been known to happen, yes, but it's rare."
>"Not rare enough. Apparently I'm expected to give her six foals, but I took biology in high-school and I don't think that's gonna happen. Mac says he'll break my legs if his sister isn't pregnant by Hearth's Warming. Kinda scared, actually. I've seen that guy eat rocks for fun."
"And Twilight..."
>"She's even more magical than usual. Says its all in the name of science, but frankly that's just an overdone trope at this point and I'm more offended that she said it to begin with than that she's actively trying to rape me."
"I... see."
>"So, I think I have a good case. Can you wave your magic wand and fix my problems?"
"I, ah, no, Anonymous, I cannot. There is no evidence for any of this, not that I think you're lying to me. I shall have to launch an investigation."
>"Think you can get it done before Heath's Warming? I like being able to walk."
"I'll see it done within the month, I promise."
>"Thanks. So do I just see myself out, or--"
"Now hold on, Anonymous, are you alright? Do you feel safe? If you feel as though Ponyville is too dangerous for you at the moment you are more than welcome to stay at the castle under my protection."
>"Yeah? Sounds grand, might take you up on that, actually. Can I bring my stuff?"
"I can send a guard escort with you back to Ponyville to collect your things if you would like, yes."
>"Can that be done now?"
"Of course! Raven shall make the necessary arrangements."
>You stand up from your throne and descend to come face-to-face with the human.
>Your motherly instincts in full force, you have to will yourself not to fawn over him, but your eyes dart across his face and body for damage anyway.
"I'm ever so sorry about all this, Anonymous, truly. If there is anything else we can do to help you, please let me know. I won't have the sole member of a species - a guest on our world, no less - subjected to anything that might make them so uncomfortable, even if this has all been a terrible misunderstanding."
>"Thanks, Cel-- Princess. Appreciate it. So do you want me to wait around, or what?"
>You instruct a guard to escort him to Raven and to get everything under way, and with a nod the guard leads Anonymous out.
>You climb the dais back to your throne and slump into the seat - posture be damned.
>Once again you look at his scribblings on the parchment, and sigh.
>The doors at the far end shut, and the throne room is silent once more.
>...
>Silent, save for the crackling of the fire burning the parchment to ashes.
>You watch as it wilts away, and you cast the remnants to a far corner with a brush of magic.
>A unreleased chuckle rumbles in your throat.
>It's always a treat when life's greatest pleasures simply drop into your lap.
>You'll have to keep it a secret from Luna, at least for a little while.
>She'll figure it out eventually, and will no doubt want to get in on the fun as soon as she does, but that only means you'll have to work fast to enjoy yourself as much as you can before you inevitably have to share your new toy.
>You smile to yourself, a familiar fire rousing deep within you and spreading to your long-neglected loins.
>Exciting day.
>And thank Mother for that.

---

"Bamp"
- Anonymous, posting with a Tempest Shadow flag

>You open your door with absolutely no enthusiasm.
>The day has been less than stellar - you woke up at a good time, had a shower, got dressed, ready to attack the day.
>Then spent the entire thing procrastinating.
>Now it's late in the afternoon and you've got nothing to show for it.
>Why do you do this to yourself? When will you learn?
>Ruminations aside, you find yourself staring with hollow eyes at the ever-beaming face of Princess Twilight Sparkle.
>Probably your least-favourite pony, aside from the one that keeps stealing your socks, whom you're pretty sure is also Princess Twilight Sparkle.
>"Good afternoon, Anonymous!"
>You yawn, opening your mouth as wide as you can and curling back your lips so she can get a good look at your canines and incisors.
>Hopefully she'll take the hint.
>Or you'll just end up gaping on your doorstep like a drooling invalid.
>Whichever will help move her along the quickest.
>"Wow! Nice teeth! Very sharp and good for meat eating - hey, speaking of tall and scary, I want you to meet my newest friend!"
>Your eyes drift from the purple monstrosity before you to the other purple monstrosity beside her.
>The second monstrosity glares at you unabashedly. You raise an eyebrow at her.
"...What's your problem, toots?"
>Her eyes narrow.
>"Okay, so!" Twilight waggles her hoof to get you to look back at her, "This is Tempest Shadow! We met on my most recent adventure, do you remember when I was gone?"
>A smile graces your cracked lips.
"I do. It was the best week of my life. You were all just... gone. No knocking on my door, no reading my mail, no stealing my socks. Bliss."
>"S-socks? Hah, you're such a joker, Anon-- anyway, Tempest here was a mean pony, but now she's totally fine!"
"How is it possible for someone to be as dim as you?"
>"What do you mean?"
"Twilight, people don't suddenly just -become- good, it's not like flicking a light switch. Changing a person's behaviour takes time and consistency to-- you've stopped listening, I can tell."
>Twilight tears her eyes from your crotch and nods.
>"Yes! I agree completely, Anon, it's totally true that anyone can change, even the meanest ponies! And Tempest here, hoo boy! She was a firebrand, weren't you, Tempest?"
>You both look to the hulking unicorn, who hasn't stopped fixing you with a furious gaze since she first saw you.
>"You reek of failure," she spits.
"...Wow, yeah, we're gonna get along great, I can tell," you deadpan.
>"So! Anon!" Twilight reasserts herself. "Now that you're both acquainted, do you mind looking after her for the rest of the day?"
"What?" you blurt.
>"What?!" blurts Tempest.
>"Yes!" blurts Twilight. "Only until this evening, just while I, um..."
>The mare trails off and squints at nothing.
>She chews the inside of her cheek and hums.
>"Yeah, I got nothing."
>Her horn ignites and she hurls you to one side, then launches herself through your door and frantically scrambles up the stairs.
"Twilight!" she ignores you, "Twilight you son of a bitch you get out of my god damned sock drawer!"
>A flash, a crash, and a cheer; your bedroom window explodes outwards and Twilight unevenly flaps away towards the Friendship Castle, the contents of your entire sock drawer in her magical grip and her deranged cackling fading into the distance.
>You watch her go, fuming.
>Surely the Mayor will be willing to compensate you, she can overrule royalty, can't she?
>"Wow. You just let her take them and didn't even try to stop her. You really are pathetic."
>You turn around and stare in disbelief at Tempest.
>She's wearing a bemused smirk, but there's no friendliness behind it.
"Have you got Equestria's biggest stick up your ass? What the hell is your problem?"
>"My problem is you."
"Yeah, I can see that, you colossal freak, what have I done to deserve that?"
>"You remind me of some foals I used to know. Weak, spineless, a waste of skin."
>You shrug and wander through the door, a hand gripping the wood.
"Okay. Alright. So here's what we're gonna do, I'm gonna go back inside and carry on with my day, and you're gonna stay out here and do whatever the hell it is you normally do to entertain yourself. I'm sure there are a few kids knocking around you can steal candy from. Sound good? Sounds good to me. Goodbye."
>You slam the door on her and walk back into your living room. Hopefully the you-shaped crater on the sofa is still warm.
>Behind you there is a roar of unfettered magic and an reverberating boom.
>The door now naught but burnt wood-shavings, Tempest saunters in, casting her imperial gaze about the place.
>You watch her with a mix of shock and fury.
>"Huh, I'm actually surprised," her eyes rest on you, "your home is an even bigger dump than I expected. Incredible."
>She holds your gaze, silently goading you into to saying something with just a look.
>You twist your neck and relish the crack, arms resting at your sides with flexing fingers.
>Tempest smirks.
>"Really?"
"Twilight isn't around to force everyone to play nice, so I see no reason why we can't settle things in a more mutually agreeable way."
>"I've broken monsters three times your size."
"Backing out?"
>"Not even remotely."
>She licks her lips.
>"I get itchy if I go more than a day without punching something."
"You're gonna feel something far worse than an itch--"

*

>You stare at the ceiling, gasping.
>The throbbing in your hip bone isn't going away, and the sharp stab each time you draw a breath persists.
>Tempest stands over you, her mane out of place and a nasty cut on her cheek, but otherwise unfazed.
>"Well, you lasted longer than I thought you would. You're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
>You attempt to sit up; her hoof presses you back down.
>"We're not done yet."
>She undoes a few straps on her body armour, wriggling about and undressing herself as you watch with trembling breaths.
>Unclothed, she drags a hoof through her mane and stretches herself out, savouring the subtle clicks and groaning as she does so.
>"That's better. Feels good to get out of that after a work out."
>She slumps onto you, resting on your chest with her back legs between your own, smiling in the face of your wincing.
>"Aww, does something hurt? Poor baby. Don't worry, I'll look after you. If I'm feeling generous."
>Tempest smushes one of your cheeks with a hoof and grins.
>"Stars, you're so soft. You really never stood chance, did you? Are all humans this weak?"
"So what's--" you draw a sharp hiss through your teeth at another stab, but push through it, "what's your deal, are you secretly a stallion or something? I thought mares were supposed to be nice and soft. How many steroids are you on?"
>She gives you a half-smile.
>"Cute. He thinks he can talk on his back with a broken hip. Do I have to break the other one too?"
"What's up? You not like getting compared to a stallion? I bet it happens all the time, what with you being so freakishly big and musculaGH--"
>Tempest presses her hoof against your broken hip, her cold, unamused expression unchanging as your strangled cries fill the living room.
>"You'll have to speak up. I didn't catch that."
"Freak," you choke at her, then clench your eyes shut and whimper when she crushes your hip again.
>"You know, most people tend to give up when they're in your position. You're either brave, or too stupid to figure out that you're in a bad spot. Which one is it, I wonder?"
>You want to retort, but she puts a hoof to your jaw, snapping it shut.
>"Been a while, actually... Since I've been on top of a stallion, I mean. I forgot how nice it feels."
>She grinds herself against you, taking her time.
>"And like Twilight said, we have aa-all afternoon together. Doesn't that sound like fun?"
>Her horn trembles with power, sparks spluttering out and bouncing off your face.
>"You'll have to forgive me, my magic isn't easy to control, and I'm going to need you out of those clothes."
>The magic erupts, and you see stars as the world goes mute.
>Heat like scalding water flays every inch of you, and you think you might be screaming but you're deaf to everything.
>Gradually, sight and sound return, and you stare in blinking shock at your prone form.
>Blackened from a hundred burns, your clothes in ashen tatters.
>Tempest seems no worse for wear, she instead gives you that same wry-smile.
>"Oops. Guess I used too much power." Her voice drops an octave, becoming huskier. "I'm sure you'll be fine, you're a big boy."
>Something in the way she says that stirs you, and she grins.
>"Hmm? Something's poking me back there. Would that be you?"
>She works herself back, and despite the searing burns across every inch your skin you can feel a moist wetness grace you.
>"Oh, looks like he's still got some fight in him. Surprise after surprise after surprise."
>Tempest's lidded eyes dance over your face.
>"Guess we'll have to settle this with another round or two. Best of three? Or maybe five?"
>You gulp, not sure what to say.
>"Aww, are you going quiet on me? Pity. I wanted an excuse to shut you up. Still think I'm a stallion?"
"You--"
>Her head lunges forward and locks your lips to hers.
>At the same time, she pushes back against you, and you feel yourself enter her; firm lips grasp you at both ends.
>Locked in place, you resign to your fate.
>You're hers, whether you want to be or not.

*

>"Ooh! What happened here?"
>Twilight wanders through your ruined door, oblivious to the crusty sock she has stuck in her mane behind her ear.
>She blinks at the sight of you, covered in bandages and lying on your back on the sofa.
>Tempest is sat beside you, feeding you soup with a spoon balanced on a steady hoof.
>She smiles at Twilight.
>"Hey, Twilight. Anon and I were just bonding. He's such a good listener, isn't he?"
>"Who, Anon? I dunno, sometimes he talks over ponies."
>"Oh, well maybe I just have a knack for getting through to him. Eat up, Anon!"
>She pushes another spoonful of tomato soup past your lips.
>You can only glare at her, and she titters.
>"Enough of that, it could be worse."
>Tempest gives you an innocent smile.
>"You could be eating through a straw."
>"So what happened?" Twilight sits herself down next to Tempest, squinting at your wounds. "Did you fight a bear or something?"
"It was something big, ugly, and hairy..." you grumble.
>Tempest forces a laugh and pats your hip. You wheeze and try not to cry.
>"Anon picked a fight with something way, way out of his league, but it was alright in the end. I'm surprised he lasted as long as he did."
>You ignore her.
>"Aww, he's gone quiet again."
>Twilight frowns.
>"Well, I hope whatever did this doesn't come back."
>"That's a thought. Twilight?"
>"Hm?"
>"I don't really want to leave Anon alone and vulnerable when he's like this. Just look at him," she locks eyes with you. "So weak, useless; utterly pathetic. Could I stay with him until he's better? It could be part of a, um, friendship test?"
>Twilight gasps.
>"Yes! Oh Tempest, that's a wonderful idea! You can stay for as long as you want to. Oh! Actually, wait here, I'll go get some supplies, you can write me a friendship report!"
>She jumps to her hooves and canters out the door in a giddy fit.
>You watch her go in wide-eyed horror, then slowly look to Tempest.
>Her expression is merciless. A cat with a trapped mouse.
>"Oh," she all but whispers. "Oh we're going to have a -wonderful- time together, roomie."
>Well.
>At least Twilight isn't your least-favourite pony anymore.

---

"you better tell him quick, he's not stopping"
- Anonymous, bullying Applejack despite my demands that he cease bullying my best girl

"You gotta help me, Shy, you just -gotta-!"
>Fluttershy, reclined in her chair stroking Angel Bunny, gives a dramatic sigh.
>"I just don't see how any of this is my problem, Applejack."
"He stole my hat!"
>"You've had dozens of hats, what makes this one so special?"
"Consarnet, Fluttershy, that ain't canon and you -know- it!"
>"Hm. True. But still, it seems like something you have to deal with yourself. Unless you're willing to sweeten the deal?"
"I... what would you want?"
>Fluttershy smiles.
>"I want -three- mugs of cider reserved for me the next time Sweet Apple Acres makes some."
"That's-- alright, alright, we'll do it."
>"Actually," she narrows her eyes, "four mugs."
"Fluttershy! What'll Dash think?"
>"I don't give a flying feather what she thinks. I want my cider, as does Angel here," she pats Angel and he purrs like a cat, for some reason.
"Fine, fine, we'll reserve some cider for you. Anything else?"
>"I think that'll be enough for now."
>She slides off her seat and saunters past you to the door of her cottage, her tail flicking your nose as she passes.
>"Coming?"

*

>You proudly regard Applejack's hat, your latest trophy in your war against common decency, hanging on a coat-hook you'd driven into your wall.
>It'll make a fine addition to your collection, along with Rarity's favourite sewing needles, Rainbow Dash's Wonderbolts-brand vibrator, and Twilight Sparkle's diary.
>The question as to why you're doing this rattles around in your mind, but you ignore it.
>Pinkie Pie is next, and you'll have to use all your wiles to snag anything good from her--
>A knock on the door interrupts your musings.
>You stride on over with a confident smirk. Nothing can ruin your day.
>The smirk broadens at the sight of Fluttershy on your doorstep with a hatless Applejack stood behind her.
>"Good morning, Anon!" Fluttershy chirps.
"Hello, neighbour. Lovely day, isn't it?"
>"It is! I was just speaking to Applejack here about a misunderstanding, apparently you accidentally took her hat home? We're here to get it back."
"Her hat? You must be mistaken, I don't have a hat."
>"What!" Applejack starts.
"Applejack must have been lying to you, Fluttershy."
>"You dirty little snake! You thievin', awful rat!" Tears openly streak down her cheeks, her voice cracks, "that hat don't belong to you! Give it back!"
"Mm, I don't know what you're talking about, sorry. Maybe check out Rarity's shop? She sells hats."
>Fluttershy nods, her smile resolute.
>"That's fine, Anon, thank you for confirming my suspicions."
>"Confirmin' your..." Applejack wipes her eyes and regards her friend with a trembling lip. "Fluttershy, h-he...!"
>"Oh Applejack, I know, I know, but I'm not saying I believe him."
>"Y-you don't?"
>"Of course not," Fluttershy turns back to you. "I was saying thank you for confirming that you're fully deserving of what I'm about to do to you."
>You cock an eyebrow.
"And what--"
>Your stomach collapses, crushed under Fluttershy's hooves.
>The mare bulldozes into you, her meagre bodyweight amplified by her unprecedented velocity.
>You're taken off your feet and crash against the floor of your hallway, a desperate gasp forced from you.
>Fluttershy pulls a hoof back, and like railroad spikes being driven into your skull, she hammers you. Something breaks.
>Specks of blood and a few tooth fragments dribble past your lips, and spots flash in your vision.
>Fluttershy barks over her shoulder.
>"Applejack. Door. We'll need that rope."
>The other mare snaps out of her shock and dutifully follows her friend into the house, her eyes wavering on your prone form as she crosses the threshold.
>"Now, Applejack."
>"R-right, right."
>The front door closes with a click, and the farmer withdraws a coil of rope.
>Your shins, not moving much on account of the shock, are bound together tight.
>You weakly push against Fluttershy's chest; she remains immovable.
>The mare sighs as the darkness of your home washes over her, her face caught in the grim half-light of the waning afternoon sun filtered through the darkened glass of the nearest window.
>"Cozy, Anonymous?"
>You cough once, your tongue finding another dislodged tooth.
>"Good."
>She drags a rear leg across your crotch, her cold eyes not leaving you.
>Methodical movements work you, and despite your shock and your pain, you stir.
>A sadistic smile splits her face.
>"Are you getting off on this, Anon? Do you like it when little mares break you?"
>She looks to Applejack again.
>"His pants. He won't be needing them anymore."
>Applejack nods jerkily, and breaks your belt buckle with a sharp movement before working your pants down as far as they'll go.
>Your bare, stiffening shaft is graced by the cool air of your home.
>"Thank you, Applejack. Go and look around for your hat, I'll take care of this."
>Applejack watches your bloodied face for a moment, seemingly unsure of herself.
>"You wanted my help, didn't you? Go and find your hat! Don't worry, Momma will keep him entertained."
>The farmer wets her lips and tears her gaze from you with another nod.
>"R-right, sure, thanks."
>She trots into the next room in search of her prize.
>Fluttershy gives a feline stretch, a delicate hoof stroking the side of your face - soaked in sweat and tears, marred with deepening bruises.
>"Oh shhh, no need for that," she coos. "You ought to know at your age that actions have consequences. You've nabbed your last knick-knack, Nonny." Fluttershy giggles.
>Her rear leg continues its massaging as she talks, your shaft now at full mast and aching for some sort of release.
>"You're so hard! Has it been a while? Not had any mares touching you? I shouldn't be surprised, you're such a chore to be around, Anon," she wears a sympathetic look. "But don't worry. As the Element of Kindness, it's my mission to extend kindness to all of Equestria's creatures, even those as despicable as you. In a way you should be thanking me. No one else around here would be willing to do this with you."
>She moves her face closer to yours, her voice barely louder than a murmur.
>"Does it get lonely, Anonymous? Out here in this empty house? No warm fire or the touch of someone you love? No friends? I bet you spend every night touching yourself. I bet if I went upstairs to your bedroom the sheets would be stained with all sorts of your disgusting juices. You're a pathetic excuse for a human, Anon. You're the only one I've ever met but it doesn't take a genius to figure that you're the dregs of humanity. I wonder if you were just as much of a burden back home as you are here?"
>She sits up and works herself back, dragging her glistening marehood across your stomach as she goes until she sits on your lap, your throbbing shaft nestled against her own belly.
>A hoof touches it, and it leaps at the contact, a dribble of pre coaxed.
>"You're so touch-starved, aren't you?"
>The mare raises herself slightly and positions the tip at her entrance - the heat of her sex radiates against you, beckoning.
>But she doesn't move any further.
>"Thank me."
>You grimace.
>"Thank me for doing this for you."
>She hovers above you, her lower lips only just grazing your glans, and your cock leaps again, desperate to plunge into her depths.
>"Thank me for being so kind as to give you a chance to desecrate my purity with your filth."
>You turn your head to the side and close your eyes, fresh tears welling.
"Thank you," you mutter.
>"Good boy."
>She drops onto you.

*

>"So you got your hat back after all, AJ! That's great!"
>Twilight beams at you.
>"And all it took was a conversation?"
"Heh... y-yeah, that's all."
>You steal a glance at Fluttershy.
>She sits between Rarity and Rainbow Dash, who look tremendously pleased themselves.
>"It was nice of Anon to return the things he stole, too. This'll make a great letter to the princess! Spike? Take a note, please!"
>Spike rolls his eyes and whips out a roll of parchment and a quill.
>Twilight clears her throat. "Dear Princess Celestia, today I learned..."
>You listen to her drone on about the virtues of communication and of seeing things from the other side.
>As she does, you pull your hat off and rest it on your lap.
>You stare at it. Memories of a bloodied face and the phantom echoes desperate, whorish moans flash into your mind.
>A shudder takes you, and you glance up again at Fluttershy.
>She's fixated on you, all patient smiles and unblinking eyes.
>You give her a shaky nod and plant your hat back on your head where it belongs.
>It was worth it.
>You got Pa's hat, Rarity got her needles, Twilight her diary, and Dash got... well, you know.
>A sip of your drink doesn't wet your dry throat, and as Twilight closes her letter to the smiling faces of her other friends, you can only stare at your hooves.
>It was worth it.

---

">Future Twilight forgets to carry a one in her calculations during a routine transport spell
>Accidentally gets thrown back to the Canterlot Wedding Fiasco
>Realizing that her entry into the past hasn't caused a cataclysmic paradox (since she's still breathing), it's likely she's created a split timeline
>After quickly sorting out Chrysalis and rescuing Cadance, Future Twilight sees Anonymous and is astounded
>Though Present Twilight was interested in Anon, he considered her too crazy and immature
>Future Twilight flirts with a confused and uncomfortable Younger Anonymous
>Other princesses and Twilight's friends watch as her future self, looking like Celestia, flirts with Anon like a smooth operator...
>...And Present Twilight is jealous.
>Futurama Lars and Fry.
>Celestia (and Luna aren't sure how to react.
>However, on seeing Future Twilight, who looks vaguely like herself and Luna after having grown, also sparks a bit of hope in her
>She always liked Anonymous, but wasn't sure if she should make a move on him
>Now, Future Twilight and Celestia passively aggressively "fight" over Anonymous, while Present Twilight stews in irritation"
- Anonymous

>The situation is at rock-bottom and somehow getting worse.
>You back away from the centre of the gala hall, throngs of guests excitedly chatting all around you as the air pounds with the dirty basslines of DJ PON-3.
>They shuffle out of your way without a glimpse, too engrossed in their own conversations to notice a human trying to extract himself from a worsening problem.
"It's been great seeing you, Twilight, but I really need to get back to Rainbow, I promised her I'd look at, uh..."
>You glance around and see a tottering stallion beside the punch bowl with a hoof over his stomach, clearly trying not to throw up.
"We were gonna look at ponies vomiting."
>Twilight, or Princess Twilight as she's apparently called in her own Faust-forsaken timeline, grins.
>"Ahaa, oh Anon, some things never change, do they? You always glance left -then- right when you're lying. Right to left means you're nervous," she adds with a wink.
>You swallow and force a grin.
"H-haha, you got me! Oh hey, here comes Celestia, I'm sure you both have a lot to catch up on--"
>"Anonymous! I'm so glad to have found you, I've been looking everywhere for you," Celestia comes to your side and addresses you directly. You stare at her.
"You... me?"
>"Indeed. I was hoping you might accompany me to the western wing of the palace? There's an artifact that may be of human origin I would like to show you--"
>"There's nothing like that, Anon," Twilight interrupts, "trust me. The first thing I did when I took power was turn this place upside down for any dirty secrets, and aside from some -very- questionable attire my beloved teacher here may have forgotten she'd left in a secret hatch under her bed, there was nothing."
>Celestia's flawless visage doesn't betray the flash of annoyance in her eyes at her protégé's rudeness.
>"Things are a little bit different in this timeline, Twilight," she says steadily, "and I'm sure he can stand to be away from the party for a little while. You were never all that fond of parties anyway, were you, Anonymous?"
>Once more she enraptures you with that depthless magenta gaze. You've long-since learnt to avoid looking into her eyes when possible; it's too easy to lose yourself in their beauty. You force yourself to blink and look away as Twilight huffs.
>"Oh please, I know Anon like the back of my hoof--"
>"Ahem," the three of you turn, "I trust I am not interrupting anything?"
>Luna regards her peers with a scowl, then gives you a cheeky grin.
>"Anonymous, I was just going through some old affects in my room and found the most amazing thing," an ethereal blue corona grips your sleeve and tugs you away from Celestia and Twilight, "you must come at once!"
>A matching gold aura grabs your other sleeve and drags you back toward Celestia.
>"Luna, Anonymous was just about to join me for some private browsing of old artifacts, he'll be with you when he's ready."
>"I think he'd rather spend time with someone that can -truly- appreciate his company, -sister-," Luna spits.
>Celestia locks eyes with Luna, and caught between the two you feel an immense pressure descend on your shoulders.
>For a brief moment, you can feel a tension between them that hasn't been known for over a thousand years. An electric, magical shudder passes through you from one princess to the other.
>"Look at these two, talk about awkward!" Twilight snorts. A third flare of magic snares your tie and pulls you in Twilight's direction. "Come on, Anon, I saw some raspberry cheesecake with our names on it, and I -know- you'll still love it just as much in this timeline."
>"Twilight," Luna abandons her already lukewarm attempt at civility, "Anonymous hasn't got time for cheesecake and frivolity, he wants to come with me."
>"Last time I checked, Luna, I believe the -elder- sister gets the final say in matter," Celestia's hardened voice cuts above the din of the crowd, but the room's occupants are still too wrapped up in the post-wedding excitement to care.
"Princesses, I'd really prefer to go and find Dash if that's okay--"
>"Hi Anon!"
>You all pause and glance at yet another newcomer.
>Princess Cadance - still wearing her wedding dress - is stood way too close to you, her face taking up most of your vision.
"H-hi?"
>"I saw you across the room and you kinda looked like you were looking for a lifeline. Wanna get outta here? Shining and I were just about to take a walk through the gardens."
>Her expression becomes half-lidded.
>"It's nice and private there, and we, ah, needed a 'third', if you catch my meaning...?"
>Luna gives a derisive snort.
>"But of course; she's barely been married for six hours and she's already sleeping around. Princess of 'Love' indeed."
>Cadance shoots Luna a dirty look.
>"What Shining and I do with our marriage is none of your business, Auntie. At least I -have- a husband. What do you have, a possum, or something?"
>"A Northern Nightreaver Vampire Bat, actually. And don't drag Filtz into this, he's innocent," a hard tug on your sleeve, "come, Anonymous, let's be done with these harlots."
>Your arm is nearly ripped out of its socket as Celestia's horn surges with power, and the arms of both your jacket and shirt are torn from their stitches.
>You stare dumbly at the limp fabric crumpled against your forearm. Celestia doesn't seem to notice. She addresses the others in a tone that brooks no argument.
>"Anonymous is coming with me to inspect the western wing of the palace. I will add that we are -not- to be disturbed, especially if any of you hear raised voices or yelling. I am expecting it to be a very -physical- inspection."
>You gag as your tie is pulled taut like a noose from Twilight yanking you again.
>"Cheesecake, Anon, come on; if I'm right, and I think I am, there's something we can both do with it involving my teats that'll rock your world."
>Luna snorts and paws a steely hoof across the tiled floor.
>"I promise you that you won't want to miss what I've found, Anonymous. It'll take your breath away as much as it's taken mine in the past - we could even use it together."
>Cadance rears up and drapes her legs over your shoulders from behind you, gently pulling you back.
>"The gardens," she whispers into your ear before giving it a light nibble, "I want my two favourite stallions stretching my holes under the pale moonlight."
>Sweat courses down your forehead.
>With your arms being held in opposing directions, your neck squeezed tight by your own tie, and Cadance trying to pull you back, you're completely stuck.
>You suck in a great, shuddering breath, and say the first thing that comes into your head.
"Look! Chrysalis is back, and she's trying to steal me away from you all!"

*

>Spellsmiths and magi for the next thousand years would go on to tell hushed stories of what came to be known as the God Shield.
>The outcome of four alicorns at the height of their power, fuelled by a mixture of true love and raw animal passion, casting a single conjoined shield spell so impenetrable neither sound nor light itself could not pierce it.
>Scholars assert that no single force on Equestria could ever possibly break it. Not Discord, or the Elements of Harmony, or the Windigoes themselves.
>For them, it's a fascinating magical phenomena to discuss, and the muse for a dozen tomes on defensive arcana.
>For you, it was being trapped inside an unbreakable prison for 24 hours with four demi-gods, none of whom were willing to surrender their portion of the spell until they were sure it was safe outside.
>As one would expect, being in so secluded a spot - even if the immovable opaque prismatic dome was in the middle of a gala hall - gave the princesses reason enough to abandon their public masks.
>Words you wouldn't expect from a bar during shore leave were spat with the sort of venom that only immortals could muster.
>Were it not for your place in the whole mess, it might have been entertaining.
>You'd have happily let them get on with bitching and snapping at each other, but unfortunately they remembered too quickly that you were trapped in there with them until the spell wore off.
>And as four sets of eyes fell upon you, lying in a sweaty, terrified heap on the cold marble floor before them.
>They smiled.
>And their smiles were wide, and dripping with intent.
>And you knew fear.

>What happened in the God Shield stayed in the God Shield.
>It was for the good of Equestria that no one ever found out.

---

Anonymous posted a picture of a disgruntled Fluttershy next to a '500lbs of Pussy and Ass!' toy replica of her ladybits.

>You're tied to a chair, but at least this time you're wearing clothes.
>Fluttershy paces before you, her face scrunched up in what you can only assume is annoyance, or whatever her adorable equivalent is.
>Not that you'd ever openly call her adorable, of course.
"Are we going to get on with it?"
>"What? Oh, that. No."
"Then why am I tied up?"
>"Anonymous, we need to talk."
>Your full name? Must be serious.
"Is it about the spare keys no longer working? I changed my locks, if it wasn't already obvious."
>She snorts.
>"Please, I had replacements ready within half a day of you doing that."
>You frown, inwardly lamenting the waste of money.
>"I was checking your closet recently."
"You broke in and were stealing stuff again, you mean."
>"I was -checking- your closet for dangerous items and whatnot because I love you and don't want to see you get hurt."
>She bobs her head to the side.
>"And also because I was looking for old socks, but that's secondary."
>You roll your eyes as she pulls a box out from behind under her bed.
>Unfortunately, you recognise it. Your armpits start to sweat.
>Fluttershy gives you an expectant look; you don't comment.
>"You know what this is?"
"Never seen it before."
>She sighs and roughly pulls the box open, tearing it unreservedly - you cringe.
>From its torn remnants she retrieves a much 'loved' object and dumps it in front of you.
>Your eyes are glued to it, beads of moisture now rolling down your forehead.
>"Do you recognise it now, -dear-?"
"I-it's. W-well it looks likes an anatomical display. Something for doctors or maybe people that need to practice CPR."
>"A perfect replica of my backside is necessary for CPR, is it?" she says with narrowed eyes.
"Saying that it's -yours- is a bit presumptuous--"
>"Don't step around the issue, mister! I am so -peeved- with you right now!"
>In the face of such harsh language, your words fail you. With gritted teeth she screams and stamps her front hooves a few times.
>"Seriously! How long have you -had- this?"
"It's not mine, I'm holding it for a friend..." you gulp in the face of her blistering glare.
>Though said glare is still mildly adorable.
>"A friend? Would that be Rainbow Dash? Maybe Bulk Biceps?" She stomps forward and jabs you in the crotch. "Or is it Anon -Junior-!"
>You grunt at her hoof knocking your balls, but there's no denying the Pavlovian stiffness you gained the moment you saw your favourite toy.
"Fine! It's mine, happy?"
>"Happy? Why the HECK would I be happy! You've been fooling around with some cheap replica of my butt for Celestia knows how long, why would I be happy?"
"First of all it was -not- cheap--"
>"Can it cum?"
"Pardon?"
>"Can it cum? Climax? Self-lubricate? Can it do any of the things an actual vagina can do?"
"Butthole as well, it's a 2-in-1 model--"
>"Anonymous!"
"No, it can't do everything a real set of genitalia can do."
>Her expression can best be described as 'lost'.
>She throws an exaggerated gesture at the silicone tumour on her bedroom floor.
>Then turns around, pointing her own - surprisingly dry for once - marehood at you, and slapping her buttock with a hoof. It jiggles. You throb.
>"Here! It's the real thing! I've been -throwing- it at you for a year and a half!"
"But it's all..."
>"What? Are you worried I'd be too tight? Do you have even the slightest inclination of how many replicas of your penis I have in my closet? Dozens. One for every colour of the rainbow and then some. I practice -every night- with them -specifically- so that when we finally make love and you pump foal fluid into my baby baker I'll be ready for it. My pussy is molded to your exact shape. You literally cannot find anything in Equestria more ready for your dick!"
"But it's attached to you!"
>"I'm... sorry?"
"Incredible as your flanks are, they're attached to you and you..." you bite your tongue. It's harsh, but you'd have to tell her eventually. "...smell bad."
>Fluttershy blinks.
>She steps away, blinking still - evidently stunned - her voice small.
>"I smell?"
"Yeah. Come on, others have told you before, surely."
>"No? What... do I smell like?"
"You spend all day around animals and their muck. I know you shower twice a day, but you don't shower after every time you clean up after one of your animals, and the scent... sticks. It follows you around town. Some days are easier than others, but generally you're difficult to stand near. People have learnt to stand upwind from you."
>She looks absolutely appalled, her jaw flapping uselessly, ears flattened against her head.
>As expected, the tears quickly follow.
>"Wh-what do... does -everyone- know?"
"We try and keep quiet about it, but you do make group hugs difficult."
>A low whine escapes her, but before you can say anything further she bolts into the bathroom and locks the door behind her.
>The shower bursts to life, and the boiler downstairs begins churning.
>Over the rushing water you can hear her sobbing.
>You purse your lips and glance back to your toy.
>With a few well-practised wriggles, you extract yourself from the rope bindings.
"Well, whilst she's occupied and I'm in the mood..."

---

"would you a cowpony flutters?"
- Anonymous, with a picture of Fluttershy in the most adorable cowgirl outfit

>"I-I want to ride you, Anon!"
"...Okay."

>Anon takes Fluttershy to the travelling fair.
>He strolls around the campus with her on his shoulders, the mare merrily eating a candied apple and directing Anon to various stalls.
>He plays the games for the both of them, and she cheers at his many victories.
>Before long, he's carrying not only a pony, but the winnings of a dozen different stall games.
>The two have a wonderful time together; the games and festivities made only greater in the company of a cherished friend.
>Their cheeks hurt from smiling.

>Then they collapse through Fluttershy's cottage door at 1:30 in the morning, lips inseparable.
>They don't even make it to the stairs before Anon forces her head against the floorboards and rails her quivering pussy with such force that nearby furniture jumps with each thrust.
>Fluttershy's rear legs kick and thrash, the mare climaxing so hard all she can do is wail and spray her nectar all over the man's crotch.
>By the time she's so overfilled with his seed her belly is slightly bloated, all she can do is sob and scream in a hoarse voice "I love you I love you I love you".

>Bad End?

---

">And then Fluttershy woke up."
- Anonymous, regarding the above.

>Fluttershy keeps having increasingly vivid dreams where her fantasies come true.
>They're so intricately detailed and plausible that she can't differentiate them from reality until she wakes up in the middle of them.
>She begins to drift about in a malaise, not sure if she's awake or asleep.
>Her visits to Anon in a morning become less to see if she can get lucky with him, and more to tell if she's dreaming.
>If he's angry, she's in the real world.
>Or at least that's how it is for a while - soon her dreams start to account for the possibility of Anon being angry, and even at his most volatile things work out in the end and he sweeps her off her hooves.
>She goes to Twilight as often as she can, and Twilight dithers between listening to Fluttershy and writing her concerns off completely. Which version of Twilight is real? Fluttershy's not sure anymore.
>One night, she and Anon are wrapped in each other's arms, the mare coming down from her fifth climax that evening.
>His sweat, the salt on his skin, the bristles of his chin rubbing against the top of her head.
>It's all real, it has to be.
>He leans in to kiss her, but she doesn't respond; her glass-eyed stare looks through him as his lips brush hers.
>He pulls back with a frown.
>"What's the matter?"
>Fluttershy's hollow expression doesn't change, her voice devoid of emotion.
"Are you even real?"
>His fingers rub her ear, his digits tracing the grain of the short fur.
>"Does this feel real?"
"I don't know."
>"If it's real to you, then it's real full-stop, right?"
>He kisses her forehead and she starts, sitting up in her bed, the early morning sun peeking through the curtains. She's alone.
>Fluttershy falls back, legs splayed at her sides, staring up at the ceiling.
>She could get out of bed and go about her routine, but what would be the point?
>She's done it before, only to wake up again midway through eating her breakfast.
"There's no escape," she whispers to no one.

>Princess Luna's face when she's watching this entire saga unfold over the course of a single dream.
"There can only be one, you whore."

---

"I can't post images for god only knows how long now so here's a contentless bump."
- Anonymous, the (Range) Banished - A man denied his images

>Fluttershy is a happy pony, generally speaking.
>So you're surprised to see her on your front lawn wearing an uncharacteristic grimace.
>You stroll outside, as is custom, and stand at a safe distance before her, nodding a greeting to which she grumbles her own.
"Nothing today?"
>"I've got... this," she drops a stick on the ground before you.
>It's straight, for a stick, and has been cleaned of leaves and offshoots, but is still just a stick.
"Very nice. But sticks aren't my fetish either."
>She sucks in a deep breath and lets it out, a brief shudder taking her.
>"It's not a stick," she wavers, "it's a dildo."
>You look down at the stick again, as though it will have transformed in the ten seconds it's been since you last looked at it.
>It remains only a stick.
"Is it Treehuggers?"
>"Nope."
"Then forgive me, but I don't understand."
>"Can you please just pretend?"
"How am I to pretend that it's a replica of a cock when it looks nothing like one?"
>"Look," she rubs her eye with a hoof and a sigh, "it's expensive, doing this."
"Stripping branches?"
>"Guessing your fetish."
"No one is forcing you."
>"I don't have a choice."
"Of course you have--"
>"I'm in love, Anonymous, I don't have a choice. It's this, or go back to perving on Big Mac like I used to."
"Mac used to get this kind of treatment?"
>"He used to get ogled from a distance. With you I'm trying a more hooves-on approach."
"Look where that's got you."
>"Look indeed," she glares at her stick.
"You could always start things up with Mac again. I wouldn't mind, honest."
>"I know -you- wouldn't, but that won't help me. So today you'll have to make do with this as my guess until some more money comes in."
"Where would that come from?"
>She shrugs, "asked my parents for a stipend to cover 'emergency costs'. They're understanding. They say hello, by the way."
"Tell them I said hi. And when will the money arrive?"
>"It'll take a while for the bank to clear it, so for a few days we'll have to make do with contentless guesses."
"Surely the content of a guess is the question itself, not the material employed."
>"These wouldn't be the same if they were reduced to sterile question-answer sessions."
"They'd be more efficient."
>"Less enticing."
"Nothing about this has ever been enticing."
>"The Viagra was."
"That was chemical coercion. I'm surprised you don't do it more often."
>"Doing the same thing twice would be stale."
"And you wonder why you repeatedly fail."
>"So Viagra -would- work?"
"Lord no, but you'd at least get the results you want, even if it's only for a bit."
>"Costs a heck of a lot more than 'a bit'..."
"Well, that's your fault. Going to swing by the marketplace - you can keep your au naturel dildo, by the way - you have enough money for food?"
>"Ran out..."
"Figures. You fine with alfalfa and grains?"
>"If you wouldn't mind. I'll pay you back, I promise."
"You 'promised' we'd be married by Hearth's Warming, too."
>"It's still a work in progress, we're just behind schedule."
"And overbudget."
>She grunts, and you make your way past her to the gate at the end of the garden.
"Want to join me? You'll need animal feed too no doubt, and I have no idea what I'd be getting."
>The mare's shoulders slump and she falls into line beside you.
>"Alright. Thanks, Anon."
"You're welcome. Keep your hooves to yourself, though."
>"Yes yes, I know the drill..."

---

"Well at least me being range ban collateral wasn’t a complete loss."
- Anonymous, the (Range) Banished - His punishment was unjust

"Banned?"
>The Mayor nods, "been a long time coming. You've had plenty of warning, so you can't get huffy with us now."
>You sink into your seat with a mumble.
"I'm not -huffy-..."
>"Then you do have a way of getting... aggressive, let's say, when things get between you and Anonymous. This is merely a precaution to stop any unwanted collateral damage."
"But it's a school."
>"Precisely."
"How does that tie into anything I've been doing?"
>"As I said, it's a precaution. They're just foals, Fluttershy, we don't want them... picking anything up."
"Like what?"
>The Mayor gives an exasperated sigh and airily gestures a hoof.
>"I don't know - learning how to correctly tie knots."
"That's a useful skill!"
>"In the service of BDSM, though? Even I wasn't aware there were that many until you demonstrated as much the other week."
"But why would that affect the school?"
>"You hogtied Anonymous in the public square. He was screaming for a full minute until you stuck that ball-gag in his mouth-- as an aside, did you -really- need to do it in public like that?"
"It wasn't as bad as ponies are making it out to be."
>"My cousin was in town visiting with my nieces. They saw the whole thing. Sun Seed is five, she's supposed to be going on about dolls and playdates, not 'why is that mare poking that thing's butt with a back scratcher'."
"Back scratcher?"
>"Mayflower had been complacent in the past. Had to think on her hooves."
"M-maybe Sun Seed might need to know these things for when she gets older?"
>The Mayor slumps in her own high-backed chair and puffs out her cheeks. You rub your foreleg, unsure what to say to fill the lingering silence. The Mayor knocks back another glass of scotch, the bottle of which looks worryingly empty considering how short your meeting has been so far.
>"Did you read the reports I sent you?"
"Reports..."
>"The thick envelopes I've been sending you all week marked 'urgent'."
"I haven't had time."
>"Of course. Well, if you'd bothered to read them you'd see that the number of ponies calling for your expulsion from Ponyville has sky-rocketed in light of your latest stunt."
"How..."
>"About fifteen percent of the town."
"Oh dear."
>"Which brings us back to the ban."
"So it's more of a public approval thing? Not because you don't like me?"
>"I... like you, Fluttershy, but national heroine or not, you're making it very difficult to do so. You make my job -hard-. This job used to be a breeze before Anonymous showed up."
"Why aren't they calling for him to be removed, then?"
>"Why would they? He's a model citizen. He has a job, pays his taxes, and doesn't try to molest ponies in public."
>She shuffles forward and rests her hooves on the table, giving you a hard stare.
>"I can't protect you anymore. This -has- to stop. Today it's a ban from school grounds, tomorrow it'll be a ban from the town square. It'll keep getting worse unless you rein this in."
"But he's my..."
>Mayor Mare's eyes narrow.
"A-alright. I'll try to control myself a bit better."
>"Thank you. If I hear of any further nonsense, I might have to revisit our agreement about me 'losing' a certain someone's repeated requests for a restraining order. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
"No..."
>"I'm doing this because I care about you, Fluttershy. Harder mares than I would have already done away with you, but I want to give you the benefit of the doubt since you've helped us so much back here. We're still grateful for you getting rid of that dragon, after all."
>You nod, avoiding her eyes.
>She watches you for a few beats, then shakes her head and downs the rest of her scotch.
>"That'll be all, Miss Shy. Let Quill know I'm free for the rest of the day on your way out, won't you?"
"Of course, thank you, Mayor Mare."
>She gives you a weak nod.
>"Just... please try to restrain yourself. Try to keep the collateral damage to an absolute minimum at -least-."
"I'll do my best."
>"See that you do. Enjoy your afternoon."

---

"Your work is much appreciated.
I hope this shit doesn't last long though."
- Anonymous, the (Range) Banished - How long must he suffer?

>Celestia wears glasses.
>Admittedly, there are more pressing things for you to be noticing, but the sight of your Princess wearing a set of delicate, gold-rimmed spectacles on the end of her muzzle caught you off guard.
>She lowers the scroll she was reading and frowns at you.
>The glasses hover off her face in a sunlight glow, fold themselves, and are set parallel to a stack of documents.
>Everything on her desk is regimented; angular and straight. Orderly.
>Celestia leans forwards, her expression a mix of stern and confused.
>"When Mayor Joyflower first made me aware of your more 'unusual' predilections, I had hoped that a word from her would have set you straight. That it has lasted for so long is troubling."
>You knit your eyebrows together and squint at one of the table legs, then look to the Princess.
"Who's Mayor Joyflower?"
>Celestia blinks.
>"Ah, 'Mayor Mare', I forget she likes to be called that. For some reason."
>You nod, once more stuck for words.
>"Since then, you have been exiled from Ponyville for, and I quote." She unfurls one of the precisely stacked scrolls and glimpses a line near the top. "Rampant public degeneracy."
>The scroll lowers. She resumes frowning at you.
>"Since then, you have only continued your behaviour, prompting the township to expand the area of your expulsion first to three miles, then five, ten, fifteen, and now thirty."
>Celestia scrutinises you.
>"What in Mother's name have you been doing that made the residents of Ponyville - a comparatively laid-back hamlet by all accounts - want you to never set hoof within -thirty miles- of their home?"
>You give her a weak shrug and an equally weak grin.
"They're threatened by my powers of friendship?"
>"Fluttershy, I appreciate that you have become... interested, in Anonymous, but I should think that after a restraining order, exile, and now a royal edict, that you would get the message."
"What message?"
>"Stop trying to fondle Anonymous!"
>You retreat behind your mane, and she sighs.
>"I apologise for raising my voice, but how much clearer can we get? You are to cease your current actions at once and do something - if I may be so bold - something more productive. You bear an Element of Harmony, I should have thought that that would imply an expectation of certain decorum, not that I would be so uptight as to say you should start acting like Canterlot nobility, but at the very least learn to take a hint!"
"I-I'm sorry, Princess, but I love him!"
>"A very good point, thank you for reminding me."
>Another scroll is taken from the opposite side of the desk. This one is bound in pink ribbon and stamped with a blue waxen heart.
>"I asked Princess Cadance to review the situation. It was not necessary, I did so purely out of my own curiosity, and in collaboration with Princess Luna the two of them looked into your dreams in order to assess your mental condition - the legitimacy of your love, so to speak."
>Celestia unfurls the scroll with a hard expression and seems to glare at it for a few seconds.
>"According to the royal physician in the Crystal Empire, Princess Cadance has been committed to an asylum on account of the things she saw in your dreams. Prince Shining Armor has written here that you are also banned from entering the Empire wholesale and without the possibility for review. He adds here that should you ever cross the border he will personally hunt you down and rid you from his realm with 'ruthless intent'."
>You swallow and nod.
"S-sorry."
>"Closer to home, Princess Luna has stated that if I ever ask her to look inside your head again, she will instigate a second power-grab on the throne, but has promised me that this time there will be 'no mistakes'."
>You purse your lips and avoid looking Celestia in the eye.
>"So, with an entire township united against you. With my adopted niece incarcerated in a psychological ward. With my relationship with the pony I love and cherish more than any other strained to the point of collapse merely by the contents of your head. I inform you this not as a sovereign of Equestria, but as a fellow pony."
>She leans across the table, her face placid.
>"If you ever make an attempt on Anonymous again I will evaporate your skin and flay every single nerve ending in your body. I will snap your bones, gouge your eyeballs, and dismantle the memories of everything you ever loved before dropping your thrashing screaming carcass into boiling acid."
>You don't move a muscle; eyes wide and jaw slack.
>Celestia holds your gaze, her own form completely still.
>"Shall I repeat myself?"
"N-no, Celestia-- P-princess Celestia, I won't do it again, I-I promise."
>She sits up again and nods.
>"Very good. Now, I believe that will be all, have a pleasant day, Fluttershy."
>With that, you stagger out of the room.
>...
>You can't get over how -weird- she looks with glasses on.

---

"It's too much of a story now to go in your shorts collections."
- Anonymous, being wrong.

>There is a weight on your chest, and teal twins caught in moonlight stare down at you in the dark.
>You don't move, keenly aware of what it is you're looking at.
>"H-hi," a soft voice says.
"You can't be here!" you hiss.
>There's a bit of fumbling as the pony on your chest flops to the side after you roll over, and you swat the switch on your bedside lamp.
>An orange glow illuminates your bedroom and the very unwanted second occupant in your bed.
>Fluttershy, seemingly shocked to be suddenly visible, grabs your covers and buries herself within them.
>A small yellow face peers out at you.
>You collapse back against your pillow and rub your eyes with a hand.
>The chill of your room graces your exposed chest on account of Fluttershy having stolen your covers, but you ignore it.
>The pony shuffles over to you and nestles against you, still wrapped up like a bright blue ghost with a bit of pink mane protruding.
>"I know there's a restraining order--"
"No, you literally -cannot- be here. The royal edict was supposed to physically prevent you from entering Ponyville. It's magic. How did you get in?"
>"I gathered that the spell only affected 'Fluttershy'."
"So?"
>"So I legally changed my name to Flutershy. One T. Then the spell just sort of let me in." You regard her with mute disbelief. "Sorry..."
"You can't do it, can you? You're utterly incapable of leaving me alone. You know when Celestia finds out she'll skin you alive, right?"
>"Skin me -and- throw me into acid."
"Yeah-- wait really. Never mind, doesn't matter. I'll tell you what, if you promise not to do anything..."
>You trail off and shake your head.
"We've done this before. I tell you to promise something, you promise it, and then you immediately do the opposite of what I asked you to do."
>You instead shrug and knit your fingers together behind your head.
"Sod it. What have you got for me this time?"
>"I have..." she rummages around in her blue ghillie suit and retrieves a worn book, "this."
"Is this a dildo as well?"
>"It's a short story, but it can be a dildo if you want?"
>You squint at the book and look off to the side for a moment.
"No," you say slowly, "no, I don't think you've ever actually done writing before. At least it's something fresh. Go ahead."
>"Alright, so this is the story of The Little Pony Who Could."
"Could what?"
>"She could."
"Could...?"
>"'Could' in this case means have sex with her human boyfriend."
"Ah. Branching out of your comfort zone I see."
>"Once upon a time there was a little pony. She had a hot human boyfriend."
>Flutershy nestles closer to you and delivers a harsh whisper.
>"The hot human was based on you!"
"Thanks. I was really struggling with that bit."
>"Okay, so the pony and the human were in love, and they had sex all the time from dawn till dusk, and they did every position they could think of from--"
"How did they pay their bills?"
>"Pardon?"
"If the two of them are having sex literally all the time, do they not have jobs? How do they make enough money to sustain themselves and keep this lifestyle of unfettered hedonism afloat?"
>"Oh. They work weekends?"
"That's it? I don't think any part-time weekend work would pay enough to keep them going."
>"The pony works as a vet. It pays a lot of money."
"What about the human?"
>"He works as a... are you still working at the coffee shop?"
"Yes."
>"He works at the coffee shop and makes tons of money doing it."
"I work six days a week and even then that's barely enough to keep me going."
>"This a nice coffee shop that pays its workers a living wage."
"Oh, so is this story a social commentary as well as a self-insert erotica?"
>"If I say yes will you stop interrupting me?"
"Go ahead."
>"The pony and the human did every sex position they could think of, from missionary to sometimes anal."
"Anything else?"
>Flutershy blinks at you, then rereads her book. She looks back at you, confused.
>"No?"
"Missionary and anal. Those are the only two sex positions."
>"Are they... not?"
"Did you really think that's all there was?"
>"What else could there be?"
"Dog--" you hold your tongue.
>Is giving her more ideas really the best decision to make at this point?
>You hold her stare, then shake your head.
"No, you're right, that's all there is. No more positions than that."
>"So my priest was right then. Good." She looks back to her book with a satisfied nod as you dwell on some very troubling and brow-raising questions.
>"One night, after the human had finished sowing her fields for the eighteenth time, he asked her to marry him, and she said yes. Then they got married at the Celestial church in Cloudsdale and moved into a nice house next door to Fluttershy's parents. The End."
"Eighteen times?"
>"Too few?"
"I'm not a one-pump chump, but you'd be lucky to get more than nine out of me before I enter a coma."
>She frowns and looks back at her story.
>"I guess I could revise it..."
"So was that the whole story?"
>"I'm thinking of writing a sequel if it gets good reviews." She grins at you, her little face lighting up under the covers. "Did you figure out who the pony was based on?"
"...Was it you?"
>"Yes! Oh, I knew you'd get it!"
>She beams at her book again and sighs, using the moment to snuggle up next to you some more.
>"So can we have sex now?"
"Depends on what position you want to do."
>"If tonight is our first time I want it to be special."
"Anal, then?"
>"N-no, missionary please, I don't want to go to Heck."
"Heck."
>"It's an awful place," she shudders.
You shrug, "sure, we can do missionary. Just have to do one thing for me first."
>"Anything!"
"Explain again how you got in to -her-."
>Flutershy follows your gaze.
>Out of the shadowed corner of your bedroom, Princess Celestia steps forth.
>"You were warned," she intones.
>Flutershy clutches her book tighter.
>"A-are you here to marry us?"
>"Something like that," Celestia mutters as her horn ignites. Both she and Flutershy vanish in a flicker of gold light.
>You rub your eyes to get rid of the spots in your vision.
>A weary sigh breaches your lips.
"She took the damned bedcovers..."

---

"I'm curious to see how, if she could, escape Celestia's ire and punishment."
- Anonymous The First
"There's always a way"
- Anonymous The Second, with a spooky ghost Fluttershy picture

"Was it necessary?"
>Celestia watches the casket being lowered into the ground with what you can only describe as disinterest.
>"It was this, or risk my sister relapsing. I went with my heart. I'd do it again."
"And how many times -have- you done this? That speech was so natural it felt rehearsed."
>"I've delivered it dozens of times. I could recite it in my sleep."
>She glances side-long at you.
>"I know you're smart enough to stick to the official story."
"Snorkelling accident."
>She hums, and a great white wing unfurls to drape over your shoulder.
>"I'm sorry it came to this, but the stability of the realm comes first. Always." Her eyes wander to the huddled figures of Mr. and Mrs. Shy, still sobbing in the front row, the other attendees giving them a respectable berth. "No matter how much it hurts."
>"We'll both be at peace, at least."
"I suppose."
>Celestia takes her leave and you slide your hands into your pockets.
>You watch the funeral wrap up with a morose, detached air.
>She did it to herself. She knew what she was getting into.

*

>It's been a strange week.
>Not that you aren't used to Fluttershy being absent - the restraining order and royal edit did a fine job to start with - but with her being 'dearly departed' you've had a lot more free time.
>You hadn't realised how much of your life accounted for her presence.
>You'd become efficient at doing the day's tasks quickly enough to deal with the added burden of her existence.
>Now that she's gone?
>It's quiet.
>You wet your finger and turn the page in your book.
>With so much time you've been able to get started on your long, long reading list, courtesy of Twilight, of course, though that won't be enough to completely fill your days.
>Your hand reaches for the glass of water on the stand beside your armchair, but fumbles around for a moment not finding it.
>Before you can turn, the glass is pushed into your hand by your companion.
"Thanks."
>"You're welcome."
>You sip your drink and reread the first line on the page.
>Then you do it again. And then four more times.
>Then you look up at the ethereal, floating spectre of Fluttershy.
>She gives you a sheepish smile.
"Oh."

*

>"Aren't you going to welcome me back?"
>You pause, not because of her question but because you can't remember the appropriate rites.
>Four circles? It was four circles. Five was for binding, you want expulsion.
>Yes, four circles. You go back to daubing the white paint on your hastily cleared living room floor, which consequently might as well be renamed to living room plus others at this point.
"You're not going to be here for much longer, so there's no point."
>"Is that going to send me back?"
"Hopefully."
>"Please could you slow down then? It took a long time to find my way out of Heck."
"So Heck is real?"
>"I think so."
"What was it like?"
>"Grey? Far more cows than I thought there would be. They were all walking on two legs and holding poleaxes and one of them was wearing a crown. It was weird."
"No kidding. Well, good thing you can talk to animals. I'll tell your parents you said... actually no, I won't, they're sad enough as it is."
>Fluttershy floats closer to the circles.
>Only her top half resembles her body, her lower half trails away into a tapered mist.
>An invisible force nudges her back, which you find encouraging, until she shoves herself against it harder and -pops- through.
>She plays with her hooves for a moment, like she's mulling over her next move.
>With a half-hearted shrug she settles on hugging you with both legs around your barrel.
>Your shirt becomes both chilled and sticky from ectoplasm.
>You lament the gooey sensation. She's just thrilled.
>"I can still touch you at least, so that's nice!"
"Enjoy it while it lasts, once I'm done with this final circle you're going back to Heck where you belong."
>"Do I really belong there, though? What have I ever done to you that was that bad?"
"Besides that time in the plaza? Not a whole lot to be fair, but the fact you ended up where you did after you died tells me all I need to know. You're bad juju, and I don't want you around corrupting my auras, or whatever it is Treehugger's going on about half the time."
>"Was she at my funeral too?"
"Of course; everyone was."
>"Even you?"
"Obviously, it'd be weird if I didn't go."
>She smiles at you.
>In that smile, you see a brief reflection of the innocent mare you met when you first tumbled out of the sky and into this magical land of ponies and poltergeists.
>If only things had been different.
>Not one to let a nice moment go unspoiled, she lunges forward and pushes her ghost-tongue into your mouth.
>Honestly? Tastes like Boo-Berry Breakfast Cereal. Who'd have thought?
>With that final, gross invasion of your privacy, you commit the final brush stroke to the fifth circle, and the runes burst to life.
>Necrotic energies howl around you both, and Fluttershy leaps away from you with a scream.
>You sigh at a job well done, and Fluttershy begins convulsing.
>Hands on your hips, you watch her with vague pity.
"If it's any consolation, I've been finding it hard to spend all the free time I now have. See you around, Fluttershy. Or not."
>You chuckle, and go back to admiring the five expertly daubed ritual circles.
>...
>The five circles.
>Five, as in for binding, not expulsion.
>Your eyes widen and snap back to Fluttershy.
>Her convulsions intensify, and after a final surge of unseen power she shrieks and a shockwave takes out your lightbulbs and anything on a table not nailed down.
>Yet she remains in your living (plus others) room.
>Her form is now noticeably less translucent.
>She floats before you in dumbfounded silence, cautiously inspecting her body.
>A hoof pokes her squidgy belly a few times, the plush tum sinking under her prods.
>Fluttershy beams at you, spectral tears in her luminous eyes.
>"I knew you loved me! Thank you!"
"Fuck."

---

"Anon's gross incompetence is what brought this about. Now he must see Zecora about an unbinding ritual. OR, hire an exorcist."
- Anonymous, refusing to let the story die. Maybe I should have given this one its own paste? Ah, who cares.

>"A month of nothing, then imagine my surprise, when I see Anon before my very eyes!"
"Nice to see you too, Zecora. Has it really been a month? I thought ponies swung by here more often."
>"The ponies out there seldom step to this wood, were it not so scary I'm sure that they could."
"Right. Well I've got a problem and I think you're the only mare that can help me, since if I get Celestia involved she'll either kill me, have an aneurism, or both."
>"I am sure your issue will soon pass you by, has life not been simpler without Fluttershy?"
"About that..."
>You twist in your cross-legged position on the floor of Zecora's hut and glare at her door.
"I've not got all day, Fluttershy."
>Zecora's eyebrows raise, and she shoots a concerned look at where you're yelling.
>As reluctantly as you'd expect, the ghost of Fluttershy passes through the trunk of Zecora's tree hut, trying to avoid looking at either of you.
>She mumbles what was probably supposed to be a greeting, and Zecora wastes no time addressing the issue.
>The mare marches up to Fluttershy and swipes a hoof at her.
>Her hoof slaps the ghostly belly, and it pulls back covered in ectoplasm.
>She licks it off her hoof; you cringe, and Fluttershy squeaks.
>Zecora rolls the taste around on her tongue, trotting back to her cauldron and muttering to herself.
>You open your mouth to speak, but she finishes her musings before you can do so and fixes you with a glare.
>"This poltergeist has been bound to this mortal plane! Anonymous, I hope you intend to explain!"
"It was an honest mistake, we don't need to get into it. Tell me how we can fix it. You -can- fix it, can't you?"
>The zebra shakes her head, a solemn look upon her. She studies Fluttershy from a distance, then turns to you again.
>"Wrestling with the dead is beyond my skills, you require a pony far across the hills. Past the glades of red sand your mission lies, of dead things and ghouls he does despise. Present him this spirit for him to undo, this gravest of errors with haste just for you."
"Ah hell, so we'll have to go travelling?"
>"Anon?" Fluttershy approaches you from behind and nuzzles your now wet and sticky ear. "I don't want to leave, we're finally together!"
"That's both the point and the problem; I've bound you to me, you literally can't be more than ten feet from me at any given time or you get dragged along. We're leaving. No questions. Zecora? Tell me where we're going."

*

>After an action-packed and rip-roaring adventure, you stagger to the peak of a red sand dune to behold the vast plain before you.
>You pull the veil away from your face and cough a few flecks of sand.
>Fluttershy hovers beside you, morose as ever at the prospect of being taken from you again.
>Her attempts at getting you to turn around so far have at best been disrupting and at worse wet and sticky.
>When she realised nothing could physically stop her from 'sampling the goods', she helped herself.
>Sadly, this means you now know what a ghost-blowjob is, and have woken up no fewer than seven times in the last fortnight to her bobbing away in the dark.
>That's not accounting for the times she's done it and you -haven't- woken up.
>Your disgust was but fuel for your journey, however, so at last you find yourself beholding an expanse carved in two by a mighty river.
>And alongside the river, just as Zecora said, sits a humble shack.

*

>You bang a fist on the door and step back, one hand hanging at your side, the other resting on your sheathed bowie knife.
>Fluttershy occupies the silence by playing with your earlobe. You've long since learnt to ignore it.
>Noises rumble within the shack, and you grip the handle of the knife.
>What sounds like a crocodile roars within, and you eye the riverside the shack is sat on, along with all the dozing reptilians languidly waiting in the reeds.
>The door slams outwards and you jump back. Fluttershy screams, but what else is new.
>An blonde earth pony stands before you, wearing a cork hat and the biggest grin you've ever seen on a stallion.
>"G'day, mate! Real treat to meet'cha, name's Croc Rocker!"
"Anonymous. Do... you know Zecora?"
>"Zecora! Hell of a mare, that one, woulda married her if she'da had me, but there's no tyin' that one down, no way. Anyway, any friend'a hers is a friend'a mine, what can I do for ya?"
"She said you'd know how to exorcise a ghost. Well..." you step aside and gesture at Fluttershy. She's a bit harder to see under the oppressive glare of the sun in this part of the world, but still visible if you squint.
>Croc whistles and stalks towards her. The ghost looks to you and back to the approaching stallion, she plays with her hooves, unsure if she should be backing away or not.
>"Anon?"
>"Crikey, look at her!" Croc says in evident awe. "A real poltergeist! Don't see many'a these around these days, thought the church got 'em all this side'a the equator, she's a beaut! As much of a beaut a sin against our Lady Celestia can be, anyway. Where'd you find this one?"
"She, uh, well she died and I accidentally bound her instead of expelling her."
>"Aww, sorry to hear that, mate. Happens to the best of us. So you want me to get rid'a her?"
"If you don't mind, how much do your services cost--"
>Croc Rocker lunges at Fluttershy.
>She screams - obviously - but doesn't move away fast enough.
>The stallion grabs her out of the air and drags her thrashing to the dusty earth.
>The pair of them writhe around, full of noise and frantic energy. Croc lies on his back, forehooves crossed over Fluttershy's chest as the mare whinnies and snorts like a wild mustang.
>She rocks her head back, trying to hit Croc, and her two hooves kick the air fruitlessly.
>"Got 'er on the ropes now, Nonnymous! She's a feisty one, I'll give 'er that!"
"Yeah, she's a real handful at the best of times," you step back, unsure if one or both of them might abruptly explode at some point.
>Hey, it could happen.
>"Just need to tire her out! Polties like this are all force, no stamina! Watch!"
>The pair roll around, clouds of red grit kicked up and coating all present in an iron dust.
>Fluttershy graduates from civilised horse screaming to something like a mix of a donkey's braying and the tortured howls of the damned.
>All the while, Croc cackles.
>"This one's desperate! Doesn't wanna give in, does she? But don't you worry, mate, I've had harder than this! Once wrestled Cerberus!"
>Fluttershy's cries are sounding more pathetic now, the mare limply flailing her legs and her eyelids drooping.
>"That's it, girl," Croc soothes, "that's it, shh, atta girl, you're alright, Sheila, you're alright."
>He strokes her mane, seemingly not minding the ectoplasm that he's absolutely covered in.
>Combined with the dust it's a foul combination, and you're glad he didn't ask for assistance.
>The ghost sags in his grasp, her chest heaving (for some reason).
>"There we are, she's all tuckered out, poor thing. Got any last words you wanna say to 'er, mate?"
>You scratch your stubble and regard the somehow-exhausted spirit for a moment.
"Don't come back, tell the cows I said hi."
>She gurgles in response.
>Croc clears his throat and speaks in a clear, though no less excited, voice.
>"Rubba dub doff, let this spirit bugger off."
>With a sound like something valuable getting sucked up a vacuum cleaner, Fluttershy implodes and vanishes.
>Croc stretches and clambers to his hooves, his grin wider than ever.
>"Not had a tussle like that in a while, cheers for that, mate! You're alright. Hey, you wanna come in for a drink? We can talk about crocs, an' I've got a collection'a knives you'll love as well, trust me."
"Yes. Yes I -do- want to get drunk and talk about crocodiles."

(The End)

---

">She's waging a war of attrition.
>She knows time is on her side.
>She knows each failure is just a stepping stone to her inevitable success.
>She knows eventually she will find your fetish.
>She knows eventually you will give in."
- Anonymous, regarding Big Mac? Haha, I fooled you. Got you good. He was talking about Fluttershy the whole time. What a twist, right?

>Year 10^9 in ???
>Again your consciousness stirs.
>Life has been a dream since you and everyone else on Equestria psychically merged with the planet itself thanks to Twilight woefully misunderstanding what a "blood test" was.
>To call it Equestria now would be pointless - the world has now been dead for far longer than it has been alive. Nations and even carbon-based life ceased in but a blink of an eye in the grand lifespan of creation.
>Epochs pass like dust in the wind, and you exist only as a ghost wandering the barren plains of your once vibrant world.
>The sight of such desolation, of life long since bleached by the irresistible solar winds unleashed by the death of the planet's magnetic core, does not faze you.
>Life's passing was inevitable.
>Entropy reigns in this new state of things, and every spirit now bound to this world has long since found peace in the solace that one day in the far future, this nigh-eternal vigil will finally be over.
>Until then, you merely watch, waking every ten million years for a 'stroll' around the planet to see what's changed since you last awoke.
>You drift over what was once a vast ocean, now a hollow bowl carved out in the rock, your eyes lazily held on the looming presence of the red giant star that will one day consume you all.
>According to Celestia, it's not on speaking terms with her anymore.
>"Anon?"
>You pause, and look to your right.
>The spectral presence of Fluttershy hovers alongside you.
>"So, um, you said about a hundred million years ago that you'd think about being my boyfriend. Have you finished thinking about it?"
>You survey her features, still so hopeful after all this time.
>In the end, she was the only one that held out. All others got over their infatuation with you, but not her.
>She was the last. Is the last.
>You shrug. Spectrally.
"Sure, why not."
>"Woo hoo! Thanks, Anon!"
>...
>She sniffs and rubs her cheek, looking about the place.
>"So, um, can we have sex now?"
>You raise an eyebrow at her.
>"No, that's not a request, that's a serious question." She stares at her hooves in evident worry. "I'm not sure how we're supposed to get freaky like this."
"I don't think we can. I thought the idea of transcendence was that we were freed from mortal wants. We're beyond sex now, Fluttershy. I am happy simply to remain here by your side until the sun engulfs the earth."
>"Oh. Okay."
>Fluttershy hovers closer to you, and you spend a minute or two watching the crimson sun.
>...
>"Anon, I'm bored."
"Me too, Fluttershy."
>You sigh, the weariness of uncountable millennia weighing you down.
"Me too."

---

"tuesday morning bump"
- Anonymous, posting a picture of a plump, cuddly Fluttershy lying in bed. Honestly, it would be a lot easier to write Flutterrape 'properly' if there weren't so many pictures out there of Fluttershy looking immeasurably fuckable. I'm an Applefag, but after writing FR for so long I've come to appreciate just about every angle of Flutters. Flutterfags have good taste, I'll tell you hwhat.

"...So take your disgusting, piss-soaked body and crawl back into whatever hole you crawled out of, you malodorous cretin."
>Applejack, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight Sparkle all "ooo" and look to Fluttershy.
>Fluttershy, on the verge of tears, hurls her papier-mache and used-condom sculpture of you at the ground.
>It both shatters and squelches.
>"Y-you know what your problem is, Anon? You refuse to let anyone love you! You're so closed off an-and mean! One of these days you're going to wake up old and alone, and don't come crying to me when that happens! ...O-or do, I mean, I wouldn't mind being your shoulder to cry on..."
>The girls turn their heads to you. Dash offers Applejack her popcorn and the two share.
"Why the hell would I ever want to spend any amount of time with a revolting failure of a pegasus like you? Face it, you're undesirable in every way, and the town would be better off without you!"
>The rest of the crowd behind the girls whisper amongst themselves, several ponies nodding along with the spectacle.
>"Oh, I'm undesirable, am I? Am I -really-, Anon? Well maybe I just need to show you what I can offer!"
>Her wings snap open, with a mighty beat she launches herself at you, and the crowd erupts in uproarious cheering.
>You pivot on your heel and sprint down the street, Fluttershy a mere foot away as she fires off the regular old litany of "things she's going to do to you" when she catches you.
>Half the audience chants your name, the other half chants for Fluttershy.
>"Get 'em, Shy! Get that D!" screams one such mare.
>"Go, Anon, go! She's gaining on you!" bellows a stallion.
>It's been a while since your shenanigans with Fluttershy became a spectator sport that the denizens of Ponyville readily place bets on, but you're not complaining. It's a good motivator for you and it brings the community that much closer together.

*

>One of your eyes creaks open.
>A gloomy bedroom shrouded behind black-out curtains greets you, along with the smell of stagnant air and sweat.
>You stretch your arms legs out under the covers, your joints and a few toes give a cathartic crack.
>A weight stirs beside you as you do so.
>Fluttershy rolls over, a pair of unfocused eyes regarding you in post-sleep stupor.
>She wriggles closer and presses a lingering, lazy kiss against your lips.
>You slide a hand down the contours of her body, soft, unwashed fur grazing your palm.
>Her tongue slips through and pokes your own. You chuckle.
"Mm. Morning breath."
>"Hmhmm... need to brush before this sort of thing, really."
"Nothing too bad about it. I could go for more."
>Your hand cups her face and you both share another intimate moment before you pull away.
>Fluttershy sags into the mattress, her hair an array of pink madness around her.
>She stifles a yawn.
>"Do we need to get up now?"
"Mhm."
>"Can it not wait?"
"You need to get home before anyone wakes up and sees you leaving."
>She gives up and indulges in a full yawn.
>"We need to tell them at some point."
"What would we tell them?"
>"Oh, tell them we kissed and made up, and all that silliness is now behind us."
>Her hoof pokes your nose and you snort softly.
"But they enjoy our antics so much."
>"Either we tell them or they find out themselves."
"Nothing wrong with a bit of intrigue."
>"There's something else as well."
"Hm?"
>"I'd like us to..." she shrugs. "You know, start living together."
>You roll onto your back with a hand behind your head.
"Yeah, it'd be nice. Be a hell of a shock to the town, though. I'm afraid of breaking their hearts. They're so... -invested- in us. I know more than a few stallions who've made a pretty penny through betting pools. Did you see that filly and her mother yesterday?"
>"Oh, the one with the shirt of us?"
"Yes!"
>Fluttershy giggles.
>"They were so cute! I've never had merchandise made of me before."
"It's adorable... and it'll all go away once the jig is up. And you'll miss it, surely."
>"A part of me does miss the old days, sure. Celestia knows I've never been fitter."
"Same."
>"They've gone through worse, though, trust me."
>You concede that much and stare at the ceiling, counting the languid rotations of the fan above that never really worked properly.
"How long has it been?"
>"I make it seven months," she says after thinking.
"We've kept it secret for that long? Wow, maybe we -should- keep it going and see how far we can take it."
>She laughs.
>"I'm sure we could drag it out for years and years and years, but I'm getting older and I want to take things further. Don't you?"
"'Course I do. Give it another week and we'll tell them?"
>"Promise?"
"Promise."
>"Alright, next week it is."
>She shuffles closer to you.
>"But I want to lie in first."
"Risky."
>"Worth it, though."
"True."
>She settles her weight against you and you move yourself into a spooning position.
>Thirty more minutes won't hurt.

---

Anonymous posted this (wear headphones just in case):
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3yXndWqCbv8

>Silence is all you can manage.
>Applejack holds her stare, yourself and the rest of her friends gawking at her.
>"Apples," Twilight begins. "You've been performing frontier-pushing research and development on... apples."
>"Yup," the farmer replies.
>"And that's why every tree in Ponyville is now -bearing- apples? Even those that previously bore other fruit?"
>"Yup."
>"Should we be worried?"
>"Not unless you don't like apples." Applejack narrows her eyes. "Y'all like apples, don't you?"
>Everyone nods with a chorus of approval.
>"Alright then. Nothing to worry about. Y'all just make sure you keep eating them and none of you'll get hurt."
>She takes her seat at the friendship map, and Twilight turns to the rest of you.
>The monthly presentations she's had you all give have been illuminating, if nothing else.
>Though her end-game isn't yet clear.
>"Fluttershy?" Twilight flashes a quick, though pained, smile. "You're up next!"
>Fluttershy slides out of her seat and drags her hooves to the presentation board she'd set up at the head of the table.
>"So, um, I thought we could look into something very close to my heart this week."
>The entire table leans forward with baited breath.
>She reveals the first sheet and you all slump back with a frustrated groan.
>"Oh for heaven's sake..." Rarity groans.
>"Again? Seriously? -Again-?" Rainbow says, apparently not believing what she's seeing.
>You just rest your chin in your palm and watch with as much disinterest as you can.
>Fluttershy gives you a meek smile before gesturing to the board with both hooves.
>"Today I'd like to talk about Anon's penis."
>Twilight deflates.
>"For the... fourth month in a row?"
>"Yes. W-will that be a problem?"
>"Do you have anything else you might want to share?"
>"Um, no, this is all I've prepared. Sorry."
>Twilight glances at you. You raise an eyebrow at her. She looks back to Fluttershy.
>"Alright." A book flies off a nearby shelf and is open to the first page before it reaches Twilight, who reclines in her seat, crosses both rear hooves on the table, and gives a dismissive wave to Fluttershy without looking away from her page. "Whatever, go for it."
>"Th-thank you."
>Fluttershy clears her throat.
>"As I'm sure you all know, Anon's penis is the most amazing thing in Ponyville. Last time I showed you all pictures of it, but this time I'd like to show you..."
>She holds for what you assume is either dramatic effect or stage-fright. Then, the sheet is flipped to a collage of photos.
>"More pictures!"
>Applejack, sat immediately to your right, has pulled her hat over her eyes, and slight horsey-snores rumble beneath it.
>Rarity sits upright, doing her best to remain polite, though her dilated eyes betray her flayed nerves and rapidly dwindling reserves of patience.
>Pinkie Pie is sat perfectly still. You narrow your eyes at her.
>On further inspection, she's actually vibrating at such an intense frequency her body appears still. She's done this before. Last time she accidentally matched the harmonic frequency of her seat and cracked it in two.
>Rainbow Dash holds her head in her hooves, her disdain pointed squarely at you.
>Far be it from her to direct her ire at her childhood best friend, so you'll have to do instead.
>She does have a point regarding the legitimacy of your attendance at these meetings, but Twilight (and a very eager Fluttershy) insisted that you come to them for "Polyarithmatic Diplogenicosophic Parablasian Concourse".
>You suspect those aren't words, but every time you ask Twilight for a dictionary she claims they were all destroyed when her old house burnt down and won't tell you the exact reason -why- you need to come to these meetings.
>"...Furthermore, Anon's penis tastes like salt, which I think I've mentioned before but I think it's worth repeating just how super yummy it is. I would recommend you all try it some time. Or don't. P-please don't think I'm trying to pressure you into doing something you don't want to do..."
>Where's Celestia?
>She hasn't sent a letter in a while, and during your last correspondence you were discussing staying with she and Luna at Canterlot for a week as a guest.
>The letters abruptly stopped after that, despite how many queries you send her way.
>Your eyes drag across the table back to Fluttershy, who is going into specific detail about the exact dimensions of your "great hulking mondo-mammoth dong" and which areas are more sensitive than others.
>You've tried asking her before where she keeps getting all this information and she won't answer, but you suspect it has something to do with you waking up each morning with a thick head and sore testicles.
>You were never a heavy sleeper before coming to Equestria, but apparently these days you can sleep through just about anything.
>Fluttershy catches your eye and blushes. She gives you a slight wave and straightens her mane somewhat before launching back into her presentation with a bit more flair.
>"...These are small bags of pubic hair from around Anon's crotch. You can all smell them if you like! You can tell they still carry his scent even long after they've been remov-- fallen off, his body."
>You pull back your waistband and narrow your eyes at what you see. Great huge patches of your pubes are missing.
>This is starting to get worrisome.
>The presentation drags on for another hour. Every time you think she's going to wrap up or run out of things to talk about, she hits you with something else.
>Even you weren't aware your penis bends to the left at a 4 degree angle, but now you do.
>Fluttershy gives one final, emphatic nod and rolls over the final closing sheet.
>"A-and that was my presentation. Thank you for listening. Any questions?"
"Can I please never come to one of these meetings again?"
>"No," Twilight and Fluttershy say in unison.
>You slouch further into your seat.
"At least the worst is over for the month."
>Twilight snaps her book shut, apparently done reading the entire thing already.
>"Great! Okay, next presentation. Rainbow Dash?"
>Rainbow launches from her seat and out the room so fast the passing gust knocks over Fluttershy's board, coming back with her own board and conspicuous bag of supplies in under ten seconds flat.
>She slams her hooves on the table, jolting Applejack awake.
>"All of you listen up! I know my last one about cloud sculpting wasn't that popular, but this one definitely will be!"
>She unveils the single sheet that makes up her entire presentation and pulls a literal scimitar from her bag. She points it at you.
>"I say we kill Anon so we never have to listen to another one of Fluttershy's dumb meetings, who's with me?"
>"Yeah!" say all but Twilight and Fluttershy.
"Thank you Jesus," you stand and rip open your shirt, showing her your bare chest. "Right in the god-damn heart, Dashie, free me from this hell!"

>You don't die in the end, sadly, and you all have to listen to Twilight lecture you on the importance of tolerating each other's shortcomings.
>What's worse is that Fluttershy insisted on sitting in your lap for the whole thing to provide you with "moral support".
>She ground her flanks against you the entire time.
>You came in your pants twice, not that it was your fault.
>Monthly meetings are a torment like no other.

---

">Hey anon I got something to ask you. You see I’m worried about Twilight. She spends so much time reading and studying and learning about friendship that I’m afraid she won’t be eligible or even fertile for that much longer. So I was wondering is it cool if my sister rapes you to ensure the future of the bloodline? It is? Wow thanks anon you’re a true friend you know that. You don’t even have to say anything I can tell you’re so excited so to be apart of the family. I can’t wait until were in-laws in fact I’m gonna have my wife deliver a pineapple pizza to your house to celebrate."
- Anonymous, regarding Shining "Redfield" Armor pressing Anon to continue the bloodline

>You are a lone fish in a sea of teeth.
>The table is dressed in floral doilies and further smothered by a fragrant banquet of broad bean lasagne, enchilada pie, and chickpea curry; islands of home-made delights courtesy of Mrs Sparkle herself.
>Islets of salads, pate, and humus side dishes intersperse the main courses, and an array of silverware floats about the table like opportunistic sharks waiting to lunge.
>An entire unicorn family dictates the cutlery; you duck back as a fork shoots past your nose to spear a leaf of lettuce the size of your hand from one of the many salad bowls.
>You lower your head and mask a gulp as best you can, eyes dropping back to your own plate - bare save for a few morsels you'd had the courage to pluck from the feast.
>"Everything alright, Anonymous?" Night Light says. The fork darts back to his side of the table, leaf firmly skewered on its prongs. "Food's not bad, is it?"
"Of course not, Mister Sparkle," you force a smile. "Just taking my time, is all."
>"Nothing wrong with that, we're certainly in no rush, are we dear?" he directs a smile at his wife, who tears her predatory gaze away from you for a second to flash her husband a grin.
>"We've got all night," she coos.
>You work away at your minute portion of lasagne, taking care not to scrape the plate too much. Your trembling hands make it difficult.
>"We might have all night, but we are in a rush," says the stallion across from you.
>You remain rigid, staring at the plate.
>"Isn't that right, Anon?" he says.
>You look up.
>Shining Armor watches you, unblinking, his hooves tented and elbows on the table.
"N-not sure what you mean, Shining Armor."
>He's about to respond, but Princess Cadance, who is sat beside him, jumps in.
>"Shiny just wants to get an answer out of you, Anon, that's all. You've been ever so evasive lately, which is why we're all so glad you agreed to have dinner with us, isn't that right?" She looks around the table, and the Sparkle family eagerly nod, except for Shining, who maintains his semi-glare.
>You agreed to meet Cadance for a little get-together, just the two of you.
>The ambush by the Sparkle clan should have been expected, so here you sit, an unwilling guest at their dinner table.
>Were they any other family it might be fine to walk out, but they are one of the most powerful families in Equestria. And they look after their own.
>Especially their daughter.
>You haven't looked at her all evening. You daren't.
>Shining has no-doubt noticed, and he nods in her direction.
>"She's ready for you, Anon. All you need to do is go to her."
>For the first time, you dare a glimpse at the far end of the table.
>Twilight Sparkle sits dressed in her Sunday best, all make-up and perfume and all sorts of glamours likely set upon her by her doting mother and Cadance.
>She's been staring at the side of your face since you all sat down, and when you catch her eye her nascent smile grows.
>"Anonymous," the stern voice of Night Light calls you back. "You know that Violet and I are too old for foals now. Horse-menopause hit us hard, and Shining has already done his bit to ensure our future."
>"We need you to impregnate Twilight, Anon," Shining intones.
>The table is silent. No forks float about, no chickpeas are chewed.
"I-I, I really think Twilight could do better than me--"
>"We don't have the luxury of finding her another partner, Anon." Violet pitches in. "We've all done extensive research on this matter, your genes are the best match. If the Sparkle bloodline is to continue, you need to fuck my daughter."
>You balk at her language at the dinner table, but no one else seems fazed.
"And... and what if I say I don't," you swallow the lump again, your voice dropping to a murmur, "want to?"
>Shining grits his teeth, his impressive musculature tensing under his fur. Here is a stallion that doesn't need his formidable magic to rip something apart.
>"Then we would need to -convince- you," he spits.
>Your hand closes over your knife.
>Shining narrows his eyes.
>Violet has lost all pretences of her motherly smile, and Night Light has fixed you with the sort of look only an incensed father can wear.
>Cadance regards you coolly, but you know that an inferno of alicorn magic rages below her placid expression.
>Finally, you look to Twilight.
>She watches you with unhidden adoration, awaiting your response.
>"I'm already ovulating," she offers.
>Shining bangs a shaking hoof on the table. Every plate jumps. Cadance drapes around his shoulders, shushing him.
>"Celestia -DAMN- it, Anonymous, she's about to lose another set of eggs! She only has a set number of seasons, and she's at her most fertile now. Strike while the iron is hot and give her foals! The Sparkle bloodline -must- continue!"
>With a deep breath, your fist tightens around the knife, and you deliver your rebuke.
"No way, fag."

*

>It might surprise you to hear this, but it turns out that one man with a tiny salad knife against the Prince Consort of the Crystal Empire, the Alicorn Princess of Love, two unicorn nobles with experience working for the Equestrian Mob, and the Element of Magic herself won't actually work out in the man's favour.
>You wake up in a plush bed the following day to find Shining Armor dozing on a chair next to you, a wicked halberd resting on his lap.
>Cadance lies on a chaise long against the window, also still.
>Clutching your arm, Twilight snorts, drooling and kicking one of her hooves in her sleep.
>Your legs are numb.
>You are exhausted.
>Twilight looks utterly content.
>A blackboard in the corner has a tally chart keeping count of something, and that something numbers twenty-seven.
>Oh well.
>At least the Sparkle Bloodline won't die out any time soon.

---

">is eldritch horror your fetish, Nonny?"
- Anonymous, posting Pinkie with far too many eyes.

>She's the pony equivalent of mentos and coke. Laughter and jokes and giggles and joy.
>And she scares you more than anything else in this world.
>Dragons and manticores inspire an animal fear, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't terrified of something that could - and would - happily eat you.
>But they aren't like Pinkie Pie.
>Nothing is like Pinkie Pie.

*

>"What'll it be, Nonners?" she chirps.
>You stare into her depthless blues for a moment longer than you should have done, and with a stunted laugh look back to your menu.
"I'll take the cranberry tart, please."
>"Okie dokie! Anything else? Milkshake? Coffee? -Me-?"
>She bats her eyelids and the other girls at the table laugh at you sinking further into your seat.
"C-coffee."
>With a trill she glides away to the back room of Sugarcube Corner, and Rarity paws at your arm.
>"You know she's only teasing you, Anonymous. That's just how Pinkie is, don't think she's trying to make you uncomfortable."
>"Yeah," opposite you, Rainbow Dash grins, "but it's not your fault you're so easy to wind up. You're just easy prey for her, Anon."
>At that, the others titter amongst themselves.
>You watch the swinging door Pinkie passed through sway and creak until she returns.

*

>A delightful meal amongst delightful company.
>Most would take solace in such pleasantry.
>But as you walk home under the pale moon the memories of such warmth, no matter how recent, are a meagre bulwark against the chill of night.
>You pass an alleyway. A bin rattles.
>Against your better judgement, you pause.
>The corridor 'twixt houses stretches farther and farther. You cannot see its end, only shadows giving way to impenetrable black.
>And in the shroud, a face watches you.
>Though no light pierces the veil, you see them.
>Depthless blues and a smile as wide as a mile.

*

>The curtains are all shut, but even enclosed in your little box you still feel exposed.
>A presence is all around you, and no barriers you put between it and you can stop it from watching.
>You feel it in the walls. Every closed door could be another space for it to hide behind.
>Every door has been opened and pressed against their respective walls with heavy household stock.
>But still you feel it watching. Fingers brush the back of your hair and you turn, but there is nothing.
>A draft brushes your ear, or was it a breath? You clamp your hands over your ears to block it out.

*

>Beneath the covers of your bed, you are hidden away from the world. You are alone.
>But you are not alone.
>You feel it.
>Feel her.
>Floorboards creak. Thermal expansion, or careful footsteps?
>Windows shudder. Midnight gusts, or someone tapping?
>Something brushes your covers...
>You freeze, shuddering breath catching in your throat.
>Your mind claws for any rational explanation.
>But then, rationality was always her first victim.
>Another movement. Something is pushing you through the blanket.
>And again the prods come, soon you lie prone and terrified under an assault of jabs and molestations from every direction, some of them hard enough to bruise.
>You cry out, voice muffled by the fabric.
>It stops all at once.
>Seconds become hours, your thrashing heart the ticking of a clock.
>A draft brushes your ear.
>No. A breath.
>You turn, seized with terror and behold the creature lurking under the covers with you.
>"Hiya, Nonny!"
"AAH!"
>"Ooo, are we playing Scream? That's like, my favourite game! Okay okay, watch this--"
>Pinkie Pie sucks in a deep breath, and her mouth opens wider than any manticore you've ever seen.
>"a̸̮͕̓a̶͖̔̃a̷̤Ả̵̗̞Á̵͇̙̚Ȃ̸͍͒A̷̾ͅẢ̶̮A̸̖͓̒A̵̤̥͋A̷͍͓͂͝A̸̬̭͒̔"
>At the back of her throat, you see stars and the infinite void of night.
>Her jaws snap shut and she beams at you.
>"You looked so sad at Sugarcube Corner, so I thought I'd swing by and check up on you! Are... you feeling alright?"
>You can't answer, cold sweat gripping every inch of you, eyes wide and unblinking.
>"You, um, you're not ill, are you? If you are I'll take good care of you, promise!"
>She reaches up with a hoof and boops you on the nose.
>"Honk!"
"Y-you're a m-monster."
>"Yupperooni!"
>She smiles at you, then frowns and cocks her head.
>"Why, did you not know? Is that a problem? Do they not have ponies like me where you come from? Well, I guess you don't have -any- ponies where you come from, huh?"
>You shudder in response, your instinct to fly paralyzed by some unseen force.
>"You must be so confused! Well don't worry, your Auntie Pinkie Pie'll set you right!"
>A hoof grips your waist and pulls you closer.
>Only, the hoof stretches and stretches, coiling around you. You look down at it and balk at the sight, only to switch your gaze to Pinkie and see that she has far too many eyes.
>The pony knocks the side of her own head and shakes it.
>"Sorry! Forgot how many eyes I was supposed to have there."
>You are pressed against her. She bounces her eyebrows at you.
>"So, you come here often?" an unearthly giggle echoes around you, but her own mouth doesn't move.
"What are you going to do to me?"
>"Right now? I'm just gonna watch."
"Watch?"
>Something wraps around your ankle.
>Something cold, and wet. Something that taints the close air beneath the sheets with the smell of seaweed and brine.
>"We'll set you straight, Anon, don't you worry." Pinkie's tone is hollow. Her smile is distant. "By tomorrow morning you'll know all about us, and we'll know you. Inside and out."
>More forces restrain you. Pinkie's coiled hoof remains around your waist, and will not be moved despite your attempts.
>You push at her body with your hands, but your hands sink into her plump body.
>You try to pull them back, but they are gripped within as if by a great closed fist and pulled deeper until both arms are elbow-deep in Pinkie Pie.
>They feel submerged in hot, thick water, and all up to your elbows you feel pins and needles pressing into your skin.
>Pinkie bats her eyelids at you.
>"How forward of you, Mister Anonymous. Were you always this warm? Guess we'll find out soon."
>More tendrils slither from under the bed and grope at you, your nose wrinkles at the noxious oceanic stench.
>One such tendril writhes beneath your legs, and its nubile tip wriggles against your back door.
>You let out a strangled cry, but Pinkie silences you with a kiss.
>Her tongue pushes into your mouth, and down your throat, and keeps going.
>You feel the bumps and contours of her pulsating organ reaching down your oesophagus and into your belly, and it keeps going.
>At the same time, the tendril overcomes your boxers and forces an entrance. Slimy and freezing, your tensing body only encourages it to push harder.
>Your eyes bulge, pain at the unwanted intrusion matching your revulsion at Pinkie's violation.
>Tears well and streak. This will not end until she's finished with you.
>You withdraw deeper into your own mind, seeking internal refuge from the horrors of existence. You close your eyes again, sweet emptiness hiding away the madness of the world.
>Some mental numbness to distract you from reality.
>But as you begin to draw upon your wellspring of withering sanity, a voice graces your mind, not spoken aloud but vibrating within you as though from your own consciousness.
>"There is no reality but me, Anon. There is nowhere to hide."
>Your eyes snap open.
>And Pinkie is smiling.
>But she has too many mouths.

*

>You stare at the ceiling, sopping wet and covered in actual seaweed.
>Pinkie lies next to you, smoking a bubble pipe.
>"Was it good for you too, baby?"
"Hhh."
>Pinkie Pie nods and smirks at the ceiling as well.
>"Damn I'm good," she mutters to herself.

---

"Does Zecora make funny but ominous rape related rhymes?"
- Anonymous, posting Best Zeeb

>Why are you painting a house? Because it pays well.
>Why are you doing it shirtless? It gets you more tips from passers by.
>Who the hell tips a guy painting houses? Equestrians, apparently.
>You lean back and stretch, relieving the tension in your aching arms.
>The money might be good, but it's doing a number on your body.
>A lifetime of hiding in a mancave eating junk didn't prepare you for this kind of sun-soaked labour.
>The house is half-done, and as far as you're concerned that's good progress.
>The owner would be fine if you took a fifteen minute breather, you're sure.
>You plop down on a sidelong barrel and dig out your lunch, heaving a great sigh and biting into the pickle and mayonnaise abomination you'd dragged screaming into being that morning.
>"A wonderful day it must be said, but does this house have to be red?"
>You swallow and wipe the crumbs from your mouth before addressing the mare now stood at your side.
>She usually shows up around this time.
"Morning, Zecora. They wanted it red, their choice in the end. What's up?"
>"I thought a jaunt into town is what I require, and that I'd check on the man that I admire. Are your days any easier with this hard graft? If you like, I can grant you a soothing draught."
"Getting easier, sure. I've lost so much weight I can actually bend over these days. If you recall I used to carry a bit more, uh, girth."
>"Quite the balloon to tell you the truth, no doubt you used to have a sweet tooth?"
"Putting it mildly, but yeah. I'm over it now, at least."
>"Then I am proud to see you are in better shape. Now, would you like some liquidised grape?"
"Grape juice? Hey, I wouldn't say no, thank you."
>She leans her neck forward and allows you to take the canteen hanging from it.
>Your fingers lightly drag against her fur, and her smile broadens.
>"A gentle touch betrays a sweet nature." She wavers for a heartbeat before, "May I ask a question about my nomenclature?"
>You take a swig from her canteen. She somehow fit ice cubes inside the thing and indulging is like drinking from a cool stream. You hand it back to her with a satisfied smack of the lips.
"Thank you, that was delicious. And sure, why, you having second thoughts about doing this whole rhyming thing all the time?"
>She rolls her eyes, still smiling.
>"My manner of speech is native to my home, I won't soon abandon it, no matter how far I roam. But I notice that ponies sometimes find it tiring, are you same? Need it be retiring?"
"What? No, I like your rhymes, I just worry that it stops you from expressing yourself fully, but if you've been doing it all your life then don't stop on my account." You shrug and bite into your sandwich again, craning your neck to look back up at the job you've yet to finish and speaking offhand. "I think it's... cute."
>Zecora doesn't answer for a few seconds.
>You don't look at her, instead squinting at a few spots you'd apparently missed.
>"Do you truly think I am endearing? Truthful words, not mere jeering?"
>You look back at her with a scowl.
"I wouldn't 'jeer' at you, Zecora. I like you a lot, you were my first friend around here. Us pariahs have to stick together, right?"
>She nods, her assorted jewellery jangling as she does.
>"Then I shall surely continue to rhyme with joy. Thank you, Anonymous, you're my favourite... boy."
>She frowns, as if that wasn't right. But before you can comment she removes her canteen again and thrusts it at you, her face having taken on a shade of pink.
>"Please take this as a gift, no no, I insist. I must return home for there is something I have missed."
>Without another word, she gallops away, leaving you staring after her clutching your half-eaten sandwich and a canteen of chilled grape juice.
>Well, as far as tips go this is one of the more delicious.

*

>Zecora never came back for her canteen, so the following day you wander into the Everfree to give it back to her.
>You could have just kept it on you until she next tracked you down - something she's able to do with remarkable punctuality - but she's always the one making the effort so you owe her this much.
>Her hut comes into view in good time, and you rap your knuckles on the door.
"Zee? It's Anon."
>For half a minute there is nothing, then the door opens to reveal a surprised-looking Zecora.
>"You journeyed here to visit me?" her eyes flicker over you. "Is something the matter that I cannot see?"
>She holds open the door, and you walk past her with a chuckle.
"Is me visiting you really that big of a deal?"
>"I cannot recall the last time you did. Except for that time with the landwalking squid."
>You cringe at the memory - you still have sucker marks on your back.
"Came to return this," you set her canteen on a table and turn to her with a smile. "And we could hang out too, if you're not busy?"
>She takes a moment to find herself, and a coy smirk works its way onto her face.
>"Alone in the forest with my best male friend? My dear Anonymous, how will this end?"
"Hopefully with more of that grape juice, if you've got any."
>"I shall see if I have anymore to give; it is not easy to make, so if I don't you'll forgive."
>She all-but bounces into the next room beyond a veil of hanging beads and leaves you twiddling your thumbs.
>Her home is filled with ornate masks, unidentifiable tinctures, and a lingering scent of just about every spice you've ever heard of, and even more you've not.
>That you don't visit more often is a crime on your part.
>You'll have to make time, schedule be damned.
>Your eyes wander to a window and the beckoning forest depths beyond.
>That being said, she doesn't make house calls very easy, being out here.
>You worry at times that she's isolating herself, but if the warm glow she wears to town on each of her visits is anything to go by, she doesn't mind.
>Zecora re-emerges from the veil bearing a tray on her back.
>On it are two wooden cups and a long-necked bottle.
>"No grapes to drink, I am afraid, but I found something better - still home-made."
"Well hey, looks like this visit isn't a total disaster, is here fine?"
>She sets the tray down and you both get comfortable on one of her many floor mats.
>The drinks are poured, and you each make a toast.
>You stare into the eyes of your humble friend.
>She regards you with a look so intense you could almost call it alluring.
"To friendship," you gulp it all down.
>"And perhaps more." Zecora doesn't.
>You wait, expecting the next part of the rhyme, or for her to sample her own shot.
>She stays still, watching you closely with a small grin.
>You glance at your cup, then the bottle.
>It appears to... stretch? It warps and contorts, the colours smudging over its contours and bleeding out to touch everything else. The room itself throbs, your eyes forced to squinting by the sudden intensity of the light.
>You look to Zecora, your mouth hanging slack.
"Zee? What have you... done?"
>She wets her lips and sets down her untouched drink. Rising to her hooves again, she comes closer, speaking in a hushed tone.
>"It is time we put aside this little game. Do not worry, I know why you came." She touches your face, eyes pouring into yours. You can't look away.
>"Deep in your soul you feel it too, a connection between us, a bond most true. You may be wary, I understand much, so think of this drink as a helping crutch. Something to aid in overcoming taboo, so please just relax - I will tend to you."
>She lightly pushes your chest with and you collapse back.
>The straw and wood against your skin is delightful - the cold, hard surface more of a warm hug from a loved one.
>Breathing makes your heart flutter, and every fresh touch brings a new rush of euphoria.
>Everything swirls, and Zecora's stripes, which now encompass your vision, blend and part rhythmically like waves washing up a beach.
>She strokes your face and leans in.
>"We are bound together, you and I. I've known it since you fell out of the sky. Our union will be blessed by my ancestors above; now mate with me, Anon, fill me with love."

>As far as making the first move goes, she went a bit overboard.
>You told her as much after she was done draining you, to which she was as bashful as a mare as stoic as Zecora will allow herself to be.
>Still, you can't say you're all that annoyed with her.
>Hard to stay mad at a mare whose culture literally wrote the book on sex.
>Better Zecora than Fluttershy, at least.
>That one's a weirdo.

---

"This Mayor needs to take responsibility for all the rampant, raping roans that have started to pop up during her regime."
- Anonymous

"There have been seventy-seven rapes total across a twelve month period," you jab the figure with a triumphant finger. "Miss Mayor, what exactly do you propose to fix this?"
>Four months it's taken to assemble this evidence, though ponies were hardly going beyond the call of duty to help you.
>The Mayor clicks her tongue.
>"It's certainly a big problem when you phrase it like that. You even drew a line graph with a monthly breakdown, and you know how much the public loves a good graph."
"So you understand the scale of the problem?"
>"Not quite. There is one thing I would like to point out."
>She rises from her seat and glides to the window. She observes in silence the colourful array of ponies heckling stand-owners, swapping gossip, and galloping around on errands urgent and otherwise in the plaza below her office.
>"There are just over a thousand ponies living in Ponyville," she says aloud to the window. "We passed the four-digit mark two winters ago. That's a fair number of ponies, wouldn't you say?"
"A reasonably sized town."
>"Quite. And how many of them are conducting..." she rolls a hoof.
"Rape, Miss Mayor."
>"Yes, that."
"Just one, but--"
>"And how many victims of rape have there been these past twelve months?"
"As far as what's been reported, only me."
>"So..."
>She trots back to her desk and relaxes in her chair, smiling at you.
>"I'd call that a win, wouldn't you?"
"A win?" You look to your charts and figures, the photographs of broken windows and bruised skin, the police reports. The Mayor nods, seemingly chipper in the face of your amazement.
>"You could look at this as 'seventy-seven rapes per annum', and that would look terrible as a newspaper headline." She leans forward with a conspiratorial smile. "But a better headline would be: '99.9% of Ponyville Declared Unmolested'," she makes a grand gesture with her hooves as though seeing the words before her.
>You want to ask if it's a joke, but you can see in her manner something you hadn't seen - nor ever wanted to see again - since you left Earth.
>A politician at work.
>"Your story is a tragic one, and my thoughts and prayers are with you, but statistically this isn't enough of an issue to warrant directing resources to combat."
"The police reports," you wave a helpless hand at the stack of burgundy folders on her desk.
>"Hard-working mares and stallions earning their paycheque, as far as I can tell. If there's a silver lining to be had during this sordid affair, they are at least being kept busy. We wouldn't want our boys and girls in blue to be sitting around doing nothing, would we? That would be a gross waste of taxpayer bits."
"You can't be serious."
>"Why wouldn't I be? You came into my office and showed me conclusive evidence that my town has one of, if not the lowest rates of rape in the country, and that the money we spend on policing is money well-spent. Why wouldn't I interpret this as anything other than a win?"
"Fluttershy has spent the last year raping me! Constantly!"
>"And yet she is the only culprit, and you are the only victim. Frankly, I'd consider this more of a domestic matter. On that note, you don't happen to have the stats for domestic violence there, do you? If the numbers are similar to the molestations then that'll be some great PR."
"Why are you so reluctant to help me?"
>"I am not 'reluctant', there is simply nothing to help with. The police have taken action, haven't they?"
"They said they're looking into it, though they've been saying that for months."
>"Then as long as the police are aware, I am sure they will resolve any domestic issues you might be having. This isn't a government issue. I am sorry, but this is out of my hooves."
>Her smile doesn't reach her eyes.
>"Will that be everything?"
"You won't get my support next time you run for office, you can be sure of that."
>She grins.
>"I'm sure I can survive losing 0.1% of the vote. It's statistically negligible."