Morning After

A hoofbeat sounded, in the hallway.

Lyra blinked, groggily. She was lying on her back. The magic bit had slipped from her mouth in her sleep, and lay against her neck—she moved slightly, and it adhered for a moment before dropping away. Her mouth felt crusty.

The hoofbeat couldn’t be DJ Pon-3, because she was still sprawled across Lyra—except that suddenly, she wasn’t. Lyra oofed as the little Neighponnese mare rolled off her, and watched as she got to her hooves and trotted in a wobbly, sleepy way out of the bedroom.

“You didn’t come home last night!” she said.

Her voice held affectionate accusation, perhaps a hint of a leer. Then—the sound of a little kiss.

Lyra’s face fell. Plummeted, really. Oh, no, no…

“Hmph!” came another voice. “Don’t even sniff me there. You’ve no hope of learning anything, considering the way you reek of sex!”

DJ Pon-3 cackled merrily. “You won’t believe this one…”

Lyra could stand no more. She flipped over, got hooves under her, and rushed out of the bedroom to stand, abject and dismayed, before Vinyl Scratch and the other pony, who could only be Octavia, the cellist.

“I am so, so sorry,” blurted Lyra, “that I slept with your lover!”

Octavia’s eyes widened. Her jaw dropped. So did Vinyl’s. Then—DJ Pon-3 began laughing, raucously.

“Cute, huh? I have a lot to tell you… Octavia.”

Octavia darted a quick glance at Vinyl. “Oh, really? Learning new tricks, Scr…”

She was cut off by no more than the flicker of a look—Lyra couldn’t be sure if she’d imagined the tiny headshake.

“…tricks, DJ?” said Octavia.

“It’s not me with the tricks!” said DJ Pon-3 proudly. “You have got to try Lyra here out! Some of the things she knows how to do… I’m not making this up, Octavia, this is a must-experience!”

Octavia glanced suspiciously at Lyra, who gulped, reeling and trying to get her bearings.

“I don’t wish to come between you…” said Lyra, and then winced, reminded of her recent betrayal by Mayor Mare. “I… I…”

“I beg your pardon,” said Octavia. “We are not lovers, my dear. We are housemates. And, though it seems mad at times like this, friends…”

DJ Pon-3 grinned. “And friends should share! Right?”

Octavia gave an elegant little shudder, lifting her nose. Lyra caught that, and her eyes narrowed at the insult even as they threatened to tear up from the feelings. To have found such a wonderful, amazing unicorn, and then end up cast off to another earth pony!

Octavia’s glance was knowing. “DJ, you’re offending our guest, who isn’t used to you, as I am. Lyra, is it?”

“Yeah…” said Lyra, truculent and vulnerable at the same time.

“Pray allow me to prepare breakfast for you, Lyra: DJ Pon-3’s cooking is wretched, and it seems you are worthy of celebration. No?”

“I’ll say she is!” said Vinyl, and dangled her tongue, making a foolish grin.

“Enough, you. This way…”

The kitchen, too, was divided. Octavia busied herself in some of the pristine, clean areas while Lyra and DJ Pon-3 made themselves comfortable. “Hurry it up, will ya? I’m hungry!” whined Vinyl, at which Lyra lifted an eyebrow—it seemed awfully rude. Octavia didn’t bat an elegant, dark eyelash at the rudeness, though, but continued with her preparations, serving the two mares omelets and haycakes with a scent so delicious that it almost overpowered the stale odors of the night before.

Vinyl seemed dissatisfied. She picked at her food, and grumbled, “It seems okay… quicker next time!” before diving in, face-first.

“So,” said Octavia, “how did you meet the incomparable DJ Pon-3, Lyra?”

The DJ in question belched crudely, as Lyra replied, “Um, she needed help carrying some things, to a gig…”

“Ah, yes,” said Octavia knowingly. “Couldn’t possibly lift all those record player things herself.”

“She carried them home all by herself!”

“Indeed?” sniffed Octavia.

DJ Pon-3 belched again, and rounded on Octavia angrily. “Hey, get your own roadie!”

Lyra blinked. Roadie?

It hadn’t fazed the elegant grey earth pony one bit. “One pays hirelings…”

“Oh, I pay,” chortled DJ Pon-3. “Heh! heh! When they deserve it!”

Octavia’s eyes narrowed theatrically, and Lyra gulped and said, “It’s been a wonderful breakfast, but…”

“Aww! Don’t you want to stick around and fuck Octavia?” protested DJ Pon-3.

Octavia responded with a haughty glare, and no words at all.

“That’s nice of you, but I just remembered something I needed to do…” said Lyra.

DJ Pon-3 shrugged. “You seriously were awesome—take it from an expert, okay? Don’t forget your dick thingy. And hey—don’t forget to dance!”

Her grin was entrancing, and for a moment, Lyra was torn. That world had offered delicious, incomparable things. But she glanced at Octavia’s slitted eyes, and she knew that no good could come of sticking around for the scene that hovered, threatening to break into full storm. It seemed impossible that the two were lovers, but whatever they were, DJ Pon-3 was in trouble, and probably deserved to be—she was clearly a wild and filthy whorse, some kind of rock star thrown together with a total prude—and Lyra saw the opportunity to get cleanly away, with a night to remember and no ties worth mentioning.

And no kisses—who knew what she might catch? The cock she’d sunk into the famous DJ was, thankfully, composed of magic alone. Though her skilful tongue wasn’t… At any rate, she’d got away with it all, if only she made her escape immediately and tactfully.

“I won’t! I swear I won’t forget! I’ll keep dancing, just like I did for you!”

“Do it, filly,” grinned DJ Pon-3, and Lyra scampered back into the bedroom, hastily threw her bit into the nice saddlebag, wrinkled her nose realizing it was gonna stink of sex for a while from soaking in the bedroom air—and trotted briskly out the door, putting some distance between herself and the sounds of the bitter fight she expected to hear.

Behind her, Octavia and DJ Pon-3 stared grimly at each other, waiting and listening.

“She gone, Tavi?” said DJ Pon-3, finally.

Octavia nodded. “I should think so.”

Vinyl Scratch removed her trademark glasses, and laid them on the table. Leaning over, she kissed her companion sweetly. “Thanks, babe. Do you think I laid it on too thick?”

Octavia shook her head. “I doubt she noticed. Seems full of herself, that one, and there was something in the way she looked at me, Scratchie. Perhaps it was just the evening I spent, predisposing me to see untoward implications…”

“Oh boy,” sighed Vinyl. “All right, tell me. I had a better night, huh? Shit you not, parts of it were excellent…”

A tiny smile played around Octavia’s mouth. “Never said my night was all bad, Scratchie.”

Vinyl’s jaw dropped, and then she grinned and banged the table with a forehoof. “Yes! I knew it the moment I saw you! You didn’t come home ‘cos you got lucky, didn’t you, Tavi? Tell me everything and I mean everything…”

“Surely you’ve more to explain?” objected Octavia. “What were you talking about? I’m not sure how serious you were, Scratchie. That girl had sex with you and it was good? We both know who you really want. Not to put too fine a point on it, is this Lyra a lesbian?”

Vinyl gazed at her for a moment as a smirk transformed her little face, and then burst into helpless giggles.

Octavia tried to scowl, but was smirking as well. “I withdraw the question! But you see my argument? Since when did you turn lesbian, sweetie? Should I be jealous?”

At that, Vinyl went “Awwww…” and kissed her companion again. “Nah. Trust me, nah. There’s only one best mare in the world and that is my darling Tavi. Fucking not included.”

“Oh, Scratchie…”

“And you’d better believe this Lyra is lesbian. Sweet Celestia, Tavi! I’m not sure we shouldn’t go chase her and turn her loose on you for real! I think I understand them better than ever, now.”

“And why shouldn’t you?” said Octavia. “Understand them, I mean. There is nothing so shocking about that. She had fun with you?”

“She had something new—some new kind of dildo. A magical one. Get this: they can feel sensation in this new kind.” Vinyl grinned a wicked grin.

“Oh, ho, ho…”

“Yeah. That’s kind of why I needed your help chasing her off,” admitted Vinyl. “I think I did her pretty damn good—got right into it, it was fantastic—and I don’t want my options closing off in that way. She’s a sweetheart—but yeah, she’s a mare, and young, and it just seems like how could she survive playing second fiddle to another mare I don’t even fuck? It’s just not fair to her.”

Octavia leaned over, and kissed Vinyl’s nose. “Dear Scratchie… you’ll always be my other half, and we’ll find our stallions eventually. Don’t you give up. I quite agree on the cautiousness, however.”

Vinyl smiled—and then her eyes narrowed mischievously. “I sniffed at you for a reason, Tavi. I’m almost sure if it wasn’t for my carousing I’d have smelled something on you. You didn’t come home last night. Define ‘cautiousness’, sweetie, I think you have a story too…”

“Ah,” said Octavia. “I cannot distract you, can I? It’s as well you ask, I confess I wanted to talk to you…”

At that, Vinyl’s expression grew more serious. “So confess. Sounds like things didn’t go well?”

Octavia’s expression was hard to interpret. Smugness, chagrin, amusement… Vinyl waited patiently for her to compose her thoughts, watching as she tapped a hoof on the table.

“After my recital, the tall, powerful pegasus gentleman wished to have coffee with me…”

Vinyl’s jaw dropped. “Oh, fuck you. Seriously, fuck you. Really?”

Octavia nodded, smugly. “Not quite Soarin’, Scratchie, but yes. All of that. Big solid fellow…”

“And by that you mean…”

“Don’t skip ahead,” chided Octavia. She continued, as Vinyl snickered and listened with shining, wide eyes. “And during coffee, the gentleman dropped numerous hints, hints of a provocative nature, nay, suggestive…”

“I’ve taught you how to neigh suggestive,” grinned Vinyl. “You’re saying you put it to good use?”

An amused, yet somehow rueful, smile hovered on Octavia’s lips as she continued. “The gentleman was in a position to appreciate many helpful tips that he never guessed the true origin of… fortunate, as his attitude hinted at a high Canterlot upbringing that scorned the dance clubs…”

“Oh, my GAWWD!” cried Vinyl. “Really? You scored a rich Canterlot pegasus, and you showed him some of my tricks that I taught you? You fucked?”

Octavia couldn’t stop grinning now. She nodded, beaming.

“Details!” demanded Vinyl Scratch.

At that, Octavia winced. “Oh, I shall tell you everything—that’s just it. Not every detail was acceptable, Scratchie. I’ll walk you through it.”

Vinyl listened avidly, wide-eyed, as her dearest friend told her story.

“He’d begun to brush up against me, particularly my flanks, even before we’d retired to his apartment. Which was elegant, Scratchie, you’ve no idea. The value of the table settings alone! But we had no thought for table settings. I could smell his interest—and I daresay he could smell mine.”

“Didja do your winking where he couldn’t see? To work him up?”

Octavia nodded solemnly. “That was astonishing, Scratchie. It really worked. I was afraid he would hear me, hear that little wet noise… I’d cant my hips away and let it happen, winking merrily at the wall or the table-settings, and then when he could see my hindquarters, I’d freeze as best I could and refuse to allow it. The air filled with mare invitation, but he saw no sign of it. It drove him mad, Scratchie! His eyes, they grew wild…”

“Told you so,” said Vinyl. “Uh… I hope you’re not telling me he hurt you? You’ve got to have a sense of the situation if you play those games.”

Octavia shook her head. “He was a perfect gentleman. Sort of. In his mating approach he did nothing one could object to, I promise. We retired to his bedroom.”

“In which there were whips and chains and an altar for sacrificing mares?” teased Vinyl.

“Nothing of the sort. A lovely soft bed—very very soft, in fact. He wished to make love on this bed, but it was simply too squishy and soft, and I requested that we stand.”

“They like that best, usually,” said Vinyl. “They flap, their wings flare up all bold and stuff… damn it, Tavi, I kill you for this! Did he do the whole hungry pegasus humping and flapping thing, she asked yearningly?”

Octavia nodded, solemnly. “I shan’t spin it out, you’ll see why. He was a very thick boy, Scratchie. He mounted me, and yes, he flapped up a whirlwind, and he thrust his massive pegasus erection home. I came, Scratchie, right then and there. I came and I kept on coming the whole time. Unforgettable. In many ways I’m not a bit sorry. I needed that sooooo badly.”

“I know you did,” breathed Vinyl. “Oh, Tavi! I’m so happy for you, honestly, I am—but you’re not finished? What else happened? You’re biting your lip and you look sad.”

Octavia narrowed her eyes. “Oh, I had a wonderful time. I thought I’d scored a real keeper, Scratchie. And then, as he stiffened to delightfully unbearable intensity, about to explode within me…”

Vinyl gasped. “You didn’t forget to eat the dose of herbs this morning? The earth pony’s friend?”

Octavia shook her head hastily. “No, no! I’m not pregnant, Scratchie, it’s not that. Heh… ironically…”

“He wanted to make you pregnant? He got mad when you admitted you were on the herb?”

“No,” said Octavia. “As he flared up and I melted into hitherto unexplored worlds of raw sensual pleasure, he cried out… ‘Mommy’…”

Vinyl blinked.

Octavia stared levelly at her best friend.

“Uh. You know they can say all kinds of stuff at times like that, right?” said Vinyl. “You might be reading too much into that.”

“I haven’t yet told you what he cried when he came inside me,” said Octavia.

Vinyl’s eyes widened. “Maybe you better! What did he say?”

Octavia swallowed. Her mouth twitched downward in dismay. She set her jaw, and she spoke with great, mocking deliberation.

“As he swelled to incredible, mare-melting hardness, throbbed, flapped madly upon me and thrust to my depths, grinding against my posterior, causing me to squeal in wild, savage orgasm… he cried… loudly…”

Octavia gulped.

“He cried… ‘OHHHH, FAT MOMMY HIPS!’.”

She stared levelly at Vinyl, whose jaw dropped in shock and astonishment.

Then, Vinyl Scratch burst into wild, raucous, uncontrollable laughter, while Octavia stared sullenly at nothing, blushing brightly.

She sat, waiting, and in mere moments her friend was clinging to her in a fierce hug, still helpless with hysterics and laugh-induced hiccups. “Oh my GAWD! Oh my gawd oh Tavi poor Tavi! I’m so sorry Tavi! Give me a minute…” she said, still screaming with laughter between words.

Octavia did not weep. She glared, with a grim little smirk at her own humiliation, and hugged Vinyl right back, gratefully.

“No, it’s okay, Scratchie,” she said. “You don’t know how badly I needed to hear you laugh at him like that…”

Vinyl wiped her own tears of mirth, and looked sternly in Octavia’s eyes. “Okay, listen. You are beautiful! Your body is beautiful. I would happily trade with you. Your hips are beautiful. They have good curves, just like your lovely cello. You are a beautiful, wonderful mare, and any stallion would be lucky to have you!”

Octavia sighed, dry-eyed and grim. “Yes, Scratchie. Just… tell me that over again, please?”

Vinyl Scratch shook her best friend, lovingly. “I am! We will have this conversation as many times as we need to, I will never mind having it! Mares are born all different ways. I grew up certain nopony would want me, that’s part of why I learned all those tricks and got so good at fucking. It hasn’t worried me for years and your body should not and will not worry you! I tell you again, you are one beautiful mare, plus you’re a fireball in the sack, am I right? What’d this pegasus guy think? I might add, Tavi, that I crave pegasus stallions, but I wouldn’t have got anywhere with yours. Admit it, you clobbered me, am I right? You could have taken him away, even if I was going for him. Admit it, you beat me!”

Octavia nodded, slowly. “That’s kind of true, Scratchie.”

Vinyl smirked. “You did. Because of your great beauty, those luscious curves and that lovely rump, you pulled a guy that would have turned his nose up at me and you know it. And I’m DJ Pon-3 and pretty good at that stuff. Face it, Tavi—you’re an incredibly sexy mare. Tell me again how he throbbed and flapped.”

At that, Octavia had to laugh. “Ha! You have me there. I nearly killed the poor silly fellow with his own libido. I hope I didn’t hurt his feelings too badly when I left. I suppose he’ll never forget it either. Um… Scratchie, should I have left? I had to. I was going to cry, and that mustn’t ever happen.”

Vinyl stared into space for a moment. “I’m gonna say… yeah, I think you made the right call. Listen, Tavi, just because this guy is crazy about you doesn’t make him the best match. I think it would hurt your feelings to have him yelling ‘fat mommy hips’ at you every time you fuck.”

Octavia winced, and her eyes glistened. Vinyl hugged her, fiercely.

“Sorry! But you see my point? You did right to bail on him. We’ll come up with some tactful way to let him down easy. You supply the tactful, I’ll think up a set of excuses… but I want you to remember something. Maybe he was weird in some ways—but that’s his head, Tavi, and that’s no concern of yours. What did his BODY think of your body?”

Octavia blinked. Then, she smirked, blushing. “Goodness.”

“Yeah,” smirked Vinyl Scratch. “Remember that. You’re super, super hot, just like I always told you. We’ll find you a guy who doesn’t trigger you. One who still goes cross-eyed at that amazing curvy body.”

“I want to be more in shape,” argued Octavia, stubbornly.

“Enough to lay off alfalfa?”

Octavia pouted, and Vinyl gave her another kiss.

“What about you?” said Octavia. “Are you going to respond to Pinkie’s flirtations, now?”

“Nah,” said Vinyl. “She’s business first. And now that she has her steady marefriend…”

Octavia blinked. “Who?”

“Fluttershy—that fashion model? You know. Anyway, Pinkie wasn’t hitting on anypony that I could see.”

“End of an era,” smirked Octavia.

Vinyl cuffed her lightly. “Hey! She looked happy. Besides, don’t joke about that—never fuck the boss.”

Octavia winced. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh! Sorry,” said Vinyl. “I forgot that one time. What a pig, that guy.”

“Well, I got the gig,” said Octavia. She giggled. “Not only that—did I ever tell you this part? Remember how he hooked up with this mare, and I just had to keep playing, watching from the bandstand?”

Vinyl nodded. “Yeah. His come dripping down the inside of your leg, as you bowed faithfully away, a tear in your eye…”

“You’re terrible,” smirked Octavia. “And exaggerating. There was no dripping. Or tears. But remember how another mare took him away even before my set was over? I don’t think I ever told you this, Scratchie—but she raged at him! She raged, and splattered cake all over him! And I watched it all from the bandstand.”

Vinyl laughed, and Octavia continued, triumphantly. “And I played that trombone thing, on my cello! I’m sure nopony heard it, but I played it all the same!”

“…trombone thing?”

Octavia smiled a transcendently happy smile. “Mwaahhh… mwaaahh… mwaah…”

“MWAAAAHHHH!” the two ponies finished, in unison, and burst into laughter.

Octavia settled back, shifting in her seat a bit, for her plump cozy marehood twinged gently from happy exercise—and she smiled at her best friend in all Equestria.

“And… I got paid for it.”

Vinyl Scratch grinned back. “Best night EVER!”


“I just want to know,” said Pinkie Pie, “why Lyra was hooking up with Vinyl Scratch?”

“Who?” asked Fluttershy, lounging on their bed.

“Oh. DJ Pon-3, you know! The DJ who worked my party, Midnight Sugar! Remember?”

“You know I went to bed early, Pinkie. I get tired so easily now…”

“I can give you some more energy food?” said Pinkie hopefully.

Fluttershy shook her head. “I don’t think that stuff counts as energy food, Pinkie. Thank you ever so much for it, and it’s delicious, but it’s only making me fat.”

Pinkie hmphed. “You’re pregnant! You’re supposed to get fat!”

“I’m not sure you quite understand. It’s not about getting fat, Pinkie,” said Fluttershy. “I hate to think of Rainbow Dash’s response to all this, she’s probably falling apart completely since she can’t exercise and race. Um. I hope she’s not racing… I should not make assumptions, for all I know she is trying to maintain her figure, and she mustn’t! Our bodies are taking on a deep and meaningful burden. They must reshape themselves to support this burden, something I doubt Rainbow Dash understands. And it is not simply ‘getting fat’!”

“Mrs. Cake got fat!”

“Mrs. Cake is not a pegasus,” said Fluttershy stubbornly. “It’s beginning to hurt me to fly, and what if I need to? I am sorry, but we have got to eat a larger variety of foods, and not so many sweet things.”

“Aw! But…”

“Pinkie!” said Fluttershy reprovingly, and her mate backed down. Fluttershy eyed her, and nodded. “Thank you. I feel like I have to teach all of us what mothering is really about, and I need your support—especially if I must scold Rainbow and teach her how to behave. That will be very difficult.”

“Okay, okay!” said Pinkie.

“Sometimes I think the only pony who really understands my point of view is Rarity,” sighed Fluttershy. “I suppose it’s all the time we’ve spent at the spa together. She knows just how I feel, without fail, and she is ever so kind even though there are whip marks on her bottom that she tries to conceal. And I never knew she was so into, er, cunnilingus—I suppose one learns new things when one forms new intimate relationships?”

“I thought Rarity just wanted stallions! And anyway I was talking about Lyra. And DJ Pon-3. I didn’t know she swung that way—or,” corrected Pinkie, “I didn’t think that was what she liked. Since when is DJ Pon-3 a lesbian? And how could Lyra possibly be hooking up with her? Bon Bon will be so hurt!”

Fluttershy’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I don’t think so. And if this DJ is a straight mare, now I know what happened to that bit. You know, one of the magic ones?”

Pinkie blinked. “Sure I do. What does that have to do with it?”

“Lyra kept theirs. She must have offered to use it on the DJ, this Pon-3. Doesn’t that make sense?” Fluttershy looked fretful for a moment. “I saw her with it once, remember. It looked… functional. Unlike, well…”

“Don’t you fret, Fluttershy! I won’t ever ask you to use yours. What did you even do with it, anyway? Silly Twilight, giving you such a present.”

Fluttershy shook her head, fluffing out her wings distractedly. “Oh, I put it somewhere. I really don’t care. It’s in my house, I think. Stupid thing!”

“Go back a little, prettyclitty,” said Pinkie Pie. Her eyes were worried. “You said, ‘Lyra kept theirs’. What would make you say that? You said it like they were… dividing stuff up. Why are you talking like Lyra and Bon Bon broke up? It seems like only yesterday that I helped them make up with each other. Um… in my special way.”

Fluttershy looked at her. “But they have. I’m sorry, was that not a public thing? Bon Bon is with Mayor Mare now. Lyra doesn’t live there anymore. I’m not sure where she went.”

Pinkie’s jaw dropped. “Oh, no! Fluttershy, this is terrible! How can you just say that, and not even care?”

Fluttershy shrugged, looking sulky again. “It’s all the same to me. Ponies have always run around, having lots of sex and then betraying each other. I could tell from the sex Bon Bon had with Mayor Mare, compared to how it was with Lyra. Mayor Mare made her smile. They kissed. They snuggled. I’m not surprised what happened. If you ask my opinion, I would say that Lyra is a greedy, selfish mare.” She looked down, abruptly. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

Pinkie stared, and Fluttershy glanced up to meet her gaze, and looked away again, blushing. It wasn’t exactly a happy blush. Fluttershy had seen the look of dismay on Pinkie’s face, as Pinkie figured things out, and both ponies began to look a little resentful.

“How often have you been watching them, Fluttershy?”

Fluttershy mumbled.

“No,” said Pinkie, “the thing is, I thought that since you have me, you wouldn’t need to do that stuff so much anymore. Is that why you’re upset about not flying so well, now?”

The butter-yellow pegasus, crimson in the face, wouldn’t meet her eye.

“You’ve been spying on them so much that you have opinions on which pony is better for Bon Bon,” accused Pinkie Pie.

Fluttershy nodded, reluctantly. She shifted, the bed creaking under her pregnant bulk.

“Oh, Fluttershy…”

“Don’t you judge me,” hissed Fluttershy, and Pinkie’s eyes widened.

“Oh, Fluttershy!” she said, with more chagrin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I love you, you know that, you silly! I just… should I be taking care of you more? Like, do you need more attention? I kinda thought I had you pretty well set up!”

Fluttershy glowered at the bedspread. She hesitated, and Pinkie gulped and went quiet, waiting… and when Fluttershy spoke again, it was with the cynical, bitter anger she usually repressed, seeping out like she didn’t care to bottle it any more.

“I ‘kinda thought’ you loved me for who I really am, Pinkie Pie.”

She pouted, refusing to look at her mate, for she was riding a wave of righteous vexation and knew what she would see—the quivering lip, the eyes brimming with tears, the voice…

“I’m sorry, Fluttershy… I’m so sorry, please look at me? Please?”

Fluttershy relented. Her huge, beautiful eyes lifted to meet Pinkie’s, and she pouted worse and set her jaw. “You did say that. You did.”

Pinkie gulped. “And I do. It just surprised me. I know you like to watch ponies have sex, it never bothered me. I… why didn’t you tell me? You could’ve told me?”

Fluttershy shook her head, but it didn’t seem to be at Pinkie—she seemed annoyed with herself. “That was always just for me. I didn’t tell you because it was all mine, the watching. I suppose I could have. Oh, Pinkie, don’t cry. It’s just important. I still like the same things I used to like, that’s all. You better not take them from me.”

Pinkie blinked away tears. “I’m sorry! Can I have a kiss?”

Fluttershy’s eyes melted. “Of course you may!” She inclined her head, and in a moment, Pinkie’s lips were pressed to hers, warm and intimate—and Fluttershy kissed back, earnestly.

When their lips parted, Pinkie’s eyes glowed with love—and Fluttershy looked vexed again.

“Are you okay?” said Pinkie. “Do you need me to do anything else?”

“No, no,” said Fluttershy. “I just… Lyra. It takes one to know one, I suppose. I really must be more charitable about Lyra. I am every bit as bad when I’m not careful.”

“You’re not the slightest bit bad, you chubby wubby cuddlewuddlesons!”

Fluttershy’s wings lifted a bit at the effusive cozy-talk, but she wore a serious look, and frowned gently. “It’s kind of you to say it, but it’s also foolish and soppy and I mustn’t listen or it will do us harm. I tell you again, Pinkie Pie, I must be less judgemental about Lyra. I’ve watched her manipulative, selfish ways, and very likely the reason I disapprove of her is because I share them.” She gulped. “In fact, I manipulate you dreadfully, and you give in to it every time.”

“I’m sorry!” said Pinkie. “How should I…” She stopped, and made a face. “Wait a minute…”

Fluttershy smirked. “That’s good. You’re learning.” A hint of her darker side shone through as she grinned at her so-very-solicitous lover. “You’re a pushover. If I make you insecure, I can make you do anything I want. You must admit that’s very mean and selfish. See? I’m a bad girl, I told you so.” She stuck out her tongue at Pinkie.

“So…” said Pinkie, “if you’re a bad girl for being manipulative, then… aha! Fluttershy, you are getting a spanking! Grrrr!”

Fluttershy gulped. Her wings rose higher. “If… you really need to…”

Pinkie stopped. “But with the… Fluttershy, does that idea turn you on? Me thwacking that quivering rump with my hoof? Scolding you for being a bad girl?”

Fluttershy was blushing again, looking away. “…maybe?”

Pinkie narrowed her eyes. “Fluttershy!”

“Yes!” admitted Fluttershy. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it! It’s probably because I don’t think I’ll ever really lose you. Because I could just manipulate you back! Oh dear—isn’t that a horrible thought? Oh, I make everything so complicated, I’m just awful…”

Pinkie sat back, considering, for a moment. Flutty-wutty had been up to naughty things, spying on Lyra and Bon Bon—or, indeed, Bon Bon and Mayor Mare—and forming harsh judgements about them all. Fluttershy disapproved of Lyra for selfishly using Bon Bon for her own pleasures, but then doubted herself, suspecting her own similar motives with Pinkie, and tied herself in knots of shame and guilt, wrapping her mate around her hoof and then hating herself for her willingness to demand everything from the ever-giving Pinkie… and all without talking about it to anypony.

So—exactly the same mare Fluttershy had been all along, and exactly the same mare Pinkie had fallen in love with and fathered a foal with. And… exactly the same emotional outbursts that Rarity had taken her aside and warned her about, when Fluttershy wasn’t looking. Right on schedule, too.

Pinkie leaned over, and kissed her mysterious and complicated lover tenderly. “You’ll be fine. Just the way you are.”

At this, Fluttershy’s eyes teared up, and the wildly swinging emotions lurched over to weepy sentimentality. “Pinkie…”

“About that spanking?” said Pinkie.

Fluttershy’s eyes widened, filled with confusion.

Pinkie kissed her again, and gave her a stern look. “You don’t get to decide. I think a certain bad girl needs to settle down. And feel loved—and behave herself.”

Fluttershy’s lip quivered, and then she scooched over on the bed and nestled against Pinkie, her soft pony curves trembling all over as Pinkie stroked her body with a firm, guiding hoof.

“So… Bon Bon broke up with Lyra, huh?”

Fluttershy nodded. Her eyes widened. “Ohhh… I just remembered how attractive you find Lyra!”

She eeped, as Pinkie’s hoof smacked her bottom.

“Nuh-uh! I’m going to give her some space, snuggywuggy. You don’t know everything, as clever as you are. When you play with ponies a lot, sometimes it’s easier and safer when they’re already in pairs. If I swept her off her hooves with some tongue-crobatics, she might get attached.”

“You could start a collection,” said Fluttershy. “Your favorite pegasus, and your favorite unicorn…” She eeped again, as another spank rippled her buttery posterior.

“Fluttershy?”

“…yes? And before you say anything, I’ve watched you watching her. So there.”

“I’m not denying that, Fluttershy,” said Pinkie. “I just want you to think about something. I’m pretty eager, right? And I love sex a whole bunch, right? And I’m good at giving ponies lots and lots of pleasure, right?”

Fluttershy looked suspicious. “These are all reasons you’d go make Lyra your willing slave. Like me. Slave for, and of, your pleasure. What is your point?”

“How greedy am I,” challenged Pinkie, “about demanding love back?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Well, there was that donkey—but you weren’t sleeping with him that I ever saw, he’s with that other donkey. They’re strictly ‘try weekly’, poor things, his hips bother him so he’s not much good at thrusting. There’s Rainbow Dash of course, but you don’t seem to pursue her anymore and I really thought you might, even now. There’s… um… I can’t think of anypony, lately?”

She looked at Pinkie, wonder in her eyes.

“It goes both ways, Fluttershy,” said Pinkie. “Maybe you’re a naughty pony—but you’ve got me. And maybe you can manipulate me a little—but I know I’ve got you. You wanted my foal. I can handle a little bad-girl stuff if it means I have your love.”

Fluttershy’s lip quivered.

“You wanted to know if you could be my number one pony,” said Pinkie. “But there never was one until you came along. It was me, keeping happy by putting a lot of pleasure out into the world. I was, like, opposite-you. You were lonely watching ponies have orgies without you. Well, I sometimes got lonely while ponies had orgies with me. I did great stuff to them, but they always seemed to pair off with somepony else, know what I mean? I was a good memory, a special occasion. It made me happy ‘cos you gotta be happy with what ya got!”

Fluttershy couldn’t look away. “How could you be lonely? That’s crazy!” she said.

Pinkie fixed her with an exasperated look. “Like I said, you’re great at watching ponies fuck, but you’re a silly billy as far as SEEING who ponies really are. When I got you, I got somepony who won’t ever be tired of me fussing over her wonderfulness. I don’t have to hold back, Fluttershy, not ever. You can take all of me.” She smirked. “Even in some special Pinkie ways.”

Fluttershy’s eyes grew wider and wider.

“So you come around, so sweet and lonely and secretly sad and bitter, and I’m not sad but I just don’t ever get to give myself completely to anypony because I’m kinda too much, you know? Except with you, I’m not too much. You’re greedy and starved for affection and everything about you just says more, more, more. And I’m all about more more MORE!”

Pinkie’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. “And now you’re actually worried that you’re too needy?”

Fluttershy’s huge, beautiful eyes filled with tears, and she flung herself awkwardly into Pinkie’s embrace, sobbing and quivering as Pinkie stroked and petted her.

“You see?” said Pinkie. “I do know you, after all.”


“So I guess you’re all wondering why I’ve asked you here today,” said Scootaloo, importantly.

“Naw,” said Apple Bloom.

“It’s our clubhouse,” pointed out Sweetie Belle. “Where else would we be?”

“Our SECRET clubhouse,” said Scootaloo.

“And how kin it be a secret clubhouse,” said Apple Bloom, “when it’s th’ same one my big sister had all them years ago?”

Scootaloo glared at her. “Well, it can turn into a secret clubhouse when it’s a clubhouse for telling secrets in! Duhh!”

Apple Bloom blinked. “Oh, no. No no. Consarn it, Scootaloo! We ain’t gettin’ into that there business again!”

Sweetie Belle waved her hooves. “Let her talk, Apple Bloom! We don’t even know what she’s going to tell us! You don’t know that it’s about the making babies stuff! Do you?”

Apple Bloom stared suspiciously at Scootaloo, then at Sweetie Belle. “Happens I don’t…”

“Well then!” said Sweetie Belle. “Scootaloo, please continue.”

“Thank you, Sweetie Belle,” said Scootaloo. She cleared her throat. “It’s about the making babies stuff.”

Apple Bloom face-hoofed. “Scootaloo! Ah told you…”

“No, listen, Apple Bloom! Listen, okay?” demanded Scootaloo. “I know you told us your big sister has a magic bit thing that turns mares into stallions…”

“Like hell! I never did, and furthermore there ain’t no such thing no-how! An’ even if there was, I ain’t stealin’ it! Stealing is wrong!”

Scootaloo stuck out her lower lip in a deadly pout. “Sooooo… you refuse to steal it from the broom closet? Still?”

“Naw, I refuse ta steal it from th’ dresser drawer,” objected Apple Bloom, and did a double-take. “On account of it doesn’t exist!” She glared at Scootaloo, who smirked back.

“The dresser drawer doesn’t exist?” said Sweetie Belle in a little voice, but they ignored her.

“Well,” said Scootaloo, “what would you say, Apple Bloom, if I told you there was another one?” She sat back, smugly, forelegs folded.

“Who told you that?”

Scootaloo’s grin got wider and wider. “I SAW it. It was the same mare you tried to talk to, before—Lyra. I’m faster than anypony, and I caught her, and she told me all about it and she showed me it, and you got a lot of stuff totally wrong, Apple Bloom.”

“Did not!”

“Did so!” retorted Scootaloo.

“Don’t fight!” begged Sweetie Belle. She glared at both her friends. “This is no time to start hitting!”

“Cos you’d lose!” said Apple Bloom.

“Would not!”

“Girls, please!” snapped Sweetie. “This is serious! We need to have Scootaloo explain what she means. Aren’t you happy we don’t have to steal anything that’s Applejack’s property, Apple Bloom?”

At that, Apple Bloom backed off—a bit. “Well, yeah. But Scootaloo’s gotta take it back, what she said!”

“First things first,” said Sweetie Belle. “Scootaloo, describe the magic bit thing for us.”

“Gladly!” said Scootaloo. She took a deep breath. “It’s small. And it’s magic. And it looks like a bit, made outta metal.”

“How you know it’s magic?” challenged Apple Bloom.

“What else would it be? Dildo!” mocked Scootaloo.

The other two ponies blinked at her. “Huh?” said Apple Bloom.

Scootaloo glowered. Lyra had been wrong, that wasn’t a useful insult yet.

She rallied. “Miss Lyra told me everything. Everything! She has one of these things, Applejack has one, she says Twilight and Trixie and Rarity have one, Fluttershy…”

Apple Bloom smirked. “My sister’s a girl! You left out Rainbow Dash. If anypony is turn’t to a boy pony it should be Rainbow Dash. What if Rainbow Dash has a penis?”

“You shut up!” yelled Scootaloo.

“Rainbow Dash has a penis, Rainbow Dash has a penis…”

Sweetie Belle rushed over and physically interposed herself between her two companions. “Stop it! Stop that! Apple Bloom, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, it’s Rainbow Dash who is pregnant with a foal!”

“Don’t mean she cain’t also have no penis if she wanted. It’s magic, right? Ain’t that the phrase? ‘It’s magic, I ain’t gotta explain shit’?”

The three Cutie Mark Crusaders blinked at each other, trying to remember where they’d heard that phrase.

“Oh, right,” said Scootaloo, “that was Twilight Sparkle. When she was cranky.”

“Applejack done give her a big-sister look,” added Apple Bloom proudly. “She said she was sorry, right quick!”

“We’re losing track of the subject,” said Sweetie Belle. “I want to know what Scootaloo learned!”

Apple Bloom looked at her suspiciously. “How come you’re so hot to know Scootaloo’s dumb story?”

“It’s not a dumb story! Lyra told me all the grown-up secrets!”

“Well, if they’re grown up secrets, then we ain’t grown-ups, so you kin shut up!”

“Oh, right,” said Scootaloo scornfully. “What, are we gonna let the grown-ups tell us what to do?”

“Um, YEAH?” said Apple Bloom. “That’s what they’re for, Scootaloo! No deal!”

“Nopony is making a deal!” objected Sweetie. “Cutie Mark Crusader Baby Makers are in session! We’re just hearing Scootaloo’s story, not doing anything else about it, okay? Settle down, Apple Bloom. Scootaloo, please continue.”

“Okay,” said Scootaloo, and stopped. She looked at Sweetie. “Uh—where do I start?”

Sweetie pondered this. “Maybe start with what parts Apple Bloom got all wrong?”

“Aw for PETE’S SAKE!” yelled Apple Bloom, but this time Sweetie was the one to get in her face.

“Settle down! When we get stuff wrong, we learn better and we mend our ways! We mend our attitudes and we try again. I learned that from MY big sister Rarity. Now, Scootaloo, what did Lyra say?”

Scootaloo flapped, vaguely, with her little wings. She looked off balance. “It kinda happened so fast. She was all saying stuff and then she ran off to get somepony to use the magic bit on her. She said that was what she really, really wanted.”

“We saw things about sex at Sweet Apple Acres,” said Sweetie. “What parts of that were wrong? How could they even be wrong when we saw them ourselves?”

“Oh!” squeaked Scootaloo. “Right! I asked if the penis is like what we saw with the pigs.”

“It ain’t?” challenged Apple Bloom.

“Nope! It’s bigger.”

“How much bigger?” demanded Apple Bloom.

“A lot bigger, that’s how much!”

“You’re makin’ it up! We’d see somethin’ a lot bigger if it was on the colts!”

Scootaloo glowered at her. “I am not! Miss Lyra said it was a lot bigger. A lot a lot bigger! That’s exactly what she said. She went like this,” said Scootaloo, made an expression of shock and astonishment, “and she said it’s a lot bigger, a lot a lot bigger!”

“Oh yeah?” challenged Apple Bloom. “If it’s so consarned big, what do they do with it?”

“Same thing!” said Scootaloo. “She said we had that part right!”

“Yeah, well, here’s the thing, Scootaloo, you idiot,” said Apple Bloom. “I could see fittin’ them pig penises ‘cos they’re skinny, but how you gonna fit something lots bigger in your va-jay-jay?”

That stopped Scootaloo. “She didn’t say. I am not an idiot, Apple Bloom! I asked if it hurt, duh! I’m just telling you what she said!”

Sweetie Belle looked pale, even for a white unicorn filly. “What did she say about that, Scootaloo?”

Scootaloo gulped. “She looked at me like I was crazy. She said it felt… f-word awesome.” Scootaloo glanced back and forth between her shocked friends. “She said she was gonna kick holes in walls to get some of that action. Maybe she’s just a crazy pony? Like, maybe she also likes sticking her hoof in fires and running into walls head-first?”

“Naw,” said Apple Bloom, who also looked pale. “That there pony’s a unicorn, her horn would bust off.”

Sweetie Belle squealed. “Apple Bloom!” She covered her little horn with her hooves, wincing.

“Or maybe it’d stick in the wall!” smirked Scootaloo, joining in the teasing.

“Ew, stop it!” wailed Sweetie.

Apple Bloom smirked, unable to resist the game. “An’ while stuck in the wall, she’d get some pony to use her magic toy, and grow a great big penis, big as your head…”

Sweetie made waving gestures with her hooves, in dismay.

“And then he’d SHOVE it right into her va-jay-jay,” snickered Scootaloo, “it would feel awesome! That’s what she said!”

“EnOUGH!” squeaked Sweetie Belle, and both her companions winced, for she’d hit one of those notes that made dust fall from the ceiling again.

The three Crusaders sat back on their haunches and looked at each other.

“It does sound pretty crazy,” admitted Scootaloo.

“Ya think?”

“Please, don’t talk about it any more,” begged Sweetie. “I feel sick!”

“Well, it was you that wanted ta find out all that stuff!” said Apple Bloom.

“Yes, but that was before it got super gross!” said Sweetie, distraught. “I can’t even describe how sick I feel!”

“Aww. Well, I guess we learnt somethin’ new today, anyhow,” said Apple Bloom, smiling at Scootaloo. “Good job, Crusader! We learned that mah farm learnin’ ain’t wrong…”

“And that pony penises are bigger than pig ones, maybe a lot bigger,” said Scootaloo.

“And that Lyra is crazy!” concluded Apple Bloom. “I reckon we’re lucky if ya think about it. There still ain’t no magic thing in my sister’s dresser. You saw Lyra’s bit thing, Scootaloo? Really?”

“Yes I did!”

“You din’t steal it? ‘Cos that would be bad. Do we understand each other?”

Scootaloo sulked. “No, I didn’t steal it. She was carrying it around in a saddlebag. It’s not like anypony would leave these things lying around. I never saw one before.”

“Good,” said Sweetie Belle. She shuddered.

“You okay, Sweetie Belle?” asked Apple Bloom. “You look off-color. Hah, like you even got a color to be off! Smell funny, too.”

“Yeah,” said Scootaloo, “I didn’t mean to upset you! I was just teasing, you know that, right?”

“No, it’s okay,” said Sweetie. “I think… maybe we shouldn’t be talking about this stuff? It seemed like it would be a lot of fun but it’s starting to feel so gross and weird…”

“All righty,” said Apple Bloom loyally. “How about y’all come over to my house? Applejack made a pie, and maybe Rainbow Dash ain’t eaten it all up yet.”

The Cutie Mark Crusader Baby Makers brightened, and filly hooves clattered in a mad charge for the door, leaving a cloud of settling dust…

…and exactly one small, unnoticed, wet spot on the clubhouse floor.