Fp/M . NC . ****

Janice is your bane. Every day at work she sits there, cubicle adorned in pictures of cats and cat related meme’s. Your boss made you her supervisor because he got tired of dealing with her. Of course, you’re still just a data entry clerk.

Now, you’re paid the same amount of money to enter text into dozens of fields across dozens of excel spreadsheets for use in dozens of powerpoint presentations, AND you have to keep Janice from swallowing her own tongue. Freaking retard. Seriously, you can’t believe she has one of those cat calendars where each month shows a different cat’s anus. When did that become fun to stare at? You have no clue.

So you are quite relieved to get home on Friday night and hit the sack. After pulling your stylish but affordable Honda Accord into the parking garage, you head into your apartment.

After locking the door behind you and turning on the lights, you notice your cat is fast asleep in a corner. Normally he starts meowing and being super annoying until you pet him. “Thank God for small miracles,” you say.

You head to your bedroom and throw all your dirty clothes in the laundry hamper. You throw on a loose t-shirt and some boxers and head back towards the bed. You do a double-take because the bed is no longer empty.

Sitting on top of the covers with a rogue grin is a yellow and pink pegasus—a type of mythical creature you would never have believed existed before tonight.

“Um. . . Hi,” it said. The pink hair flowing over it’s face obscured most of the pony from your vision.

This animal could be feral, possibly even carrying rabies. “I’ll have you know I know karate,” you bluff.

“Um. . . what is that? I mean, if it’s alright for me to know.”

You stare at the small creature. She has an innocent smile and wide, light green eyes. She bats her eyelashes and smiles in a way that’s almost seductive. You notice her hips wiggling slightly as if she can’t sit still.

“What are you doing in my bed? What are you?” Of all the strange things you’ve seen online, none of it could have prepared you for this.

“Oh okay. . . I am in your bed so we can um. . . have sex if it’s okay with you. I’m a pegasus named Fluttershy.”

Yeah, this train definitely lost the brakes and passed freaky town several stops ago. You circle around her near the baseball bat you keep next to the nightstand. You’re a tad bit paranoid despite the low crime rate in the neighborhood. Since you stayed up late one to many nights playing video games, you’ve always worried a zombie or home invader could catch you off guard. And you know that a true true friend is about three feet long, blunt, and capable of killing a person in one decent blow to the skull.

Skipping right past why there is a yellow pony in your bed propositioning you for sex, you ask the next question burning on your mind. “why don’t you go have sex with a stallion or horse or something?” you ask. Surely a young, and you assume attractive for a pony, mare like her would have stallions lining up around the block to plow her senseless. In fact, maybe you can just give her your bat and let her go to town while you make a call to Animal Control.

Fluttershy actually sheds a tear, and for a moment you start to fill bad for the critter. You stop yourself as you start to step forward to comfort her. “There aren’t many stallions. . . and I’m rather shy. Nopony wants to sleep with me and I get really lonely. . . I just wanted to have one special night and not feel guilty,” she says, sobbing.

You know enough about women to realize you’ve made an error. Whether human or some mythical species, you never make a woman feel unattractive. That’s survival 101 for the bachelor. Now that you’ve pissed her off, she’s either going to tell all her friends what an asshole you are, or start breaking stuff in your apartment.

“Hey now, I’m sorry. I’m sure plenty of stallions would love to sleep with you.” You smile weakly. She has a slightly crazy twinkle in her eye. This is definitely a girl who breaks shit when she gets rejected.

“But. . . this was a mistake, Twilight said she could send me for one night and I could have all the sex I want and no one would ever know. . .”

You raise an eyebrow. “Um. . . how does that have anything to do with this conversation?”

“Is it because I’m fat? Or did I not bathe enough times? It’s hard to get rid of the smell from all those animals.” Fluttershy began to cry harder and damn it if you didn’t feel bad for her.

“Hey now, maybe we can cuddle instead? Would you like to cuddle? Who’s a cute widdle cuddle monster?” you coo. Hey, it works on cats and babies, maybe it works on ponies.

“I. . . guess Twilight was right. There are no consequences here so long as I don’t let you escape until the spell triggers and sends me back home.” A wicked grin appears on her face as she looks up at you slowly.

“Alright, I don’t like where this is headed.” You walk over and pick up your baseball bat, twirling it around in the air for effect. “I’m going to count to three and when I turn around there better not be a pastel colored pony sitting on my bed. Also, no hard feelings. I’m sure if I were a furry you’d look super hot or something.”

“One, Two, Three!” You turn around to see if she’s gone. Instead, you see those emerald eyes staring straight at you.

“Wha. . .” Your mind goes blank and you’re no longer able to voice words in your head. You are still having disjointed thoughts, but your muscles refuse to move. Every fiber of your being left wants to look away from those eyes, but you can’t. Those amazing, bottomless emerald eyes have sucked every bit of your energy away.

“Come, sit,” Fluttershy whispers.

You drop the bat and begin to walk towards the bed. No! Back up, look away! The voice in your head is no longer your own. Fluttershy is the only voice you care about. You ignore your consciousness and try to drown out the words. There is no room for words in your mind, only her. The pony goddess on your bed.

A wide smile crosses your face as the nagging voice telling you to resist fades away to nothingness. You sit down on the bed which feels infinitely softer than a fluffy cloud. You want to close your eyes and melt away into it, yet you can not. To do so would be to stop gazing into those marvelous jewels.

“Take off your shirt.”

You reach down and grab the bottom of the shirt, sliding it off your head in one smooth motion. It falls to the floor beside the bed.

Fluttershy continues staring into your eyes. “Rule #1. You will not injure a pony or, through inaction, allow a pony to come to harm. Rule #2. You must obey the orders given by any pony, except where such orders conflict with the first law. Rule #3. You must protect your own existence as my sex slave so long as it does not conflict with the first and second laws. Rule #4. You must pleasure ponies sexually so long as it does not conflict with the first three laws.

“Do you accept these terms and conditions? Say yes.”

“Yes,” you reply. Your mind is no longer blank, there are now four basic laws set in stone. They have always been there, they comfort you, they are the reason you exist.

“Good, now lay down and let mommy take care of the rest.” Fluttershy finally breaks the stare, and pulls your boxers off with a hoof.

You lay down obediently and feel something warm slide down into your trousers. Soon you can feel that you are ready as you’ll ever be as a small pony muzzle tickles your inner thighs, bobbing up and down. Once you feel the warm mouth raise from the bed, you hear your next command.

“Take me, slowly.”

Fluttershy stands up and raises her tail. She bends her forehooves and rests her head on the bed. Her plot is presented to you in all it’s yellow and pink glory. You roll over and climb on top of her, sliding effortlessly into place.

“Begin.”

With a gentle rocking motion you begin exactly as she commanded. Between the feelings of pleasure and the blank state of your hypnotized mind, the seconds stretch into hours.

The night is passing in a blur, your addled mind unable to tell how long you have been at it. All you can think about is obeying her every whim. Once you’ve exhausted her, the night takes an unexpected turn.

“Alright, legs up in the air little baby human,” Fluttershy asks. She is changing your diaper and seems to be greatly enjoying herself.

“Mama,” you reply. She ordered you to speak with the vocabulary of an infant and you were powerless to resist. Now, your thoughts are those of an infant, except for the four laws of pony sex you agreed to. At first you think of a pacifier, then whether or not you can fit the quarter on the carpet into your mouth. Next, you start kicking your legs in excitement as you feel some of Fluttershy’s hair brush against your tushy.

“Now mama is going to put your diapey on.” You feel cold powder sprinkled on your hiney before the diaper seals around your rear. Using her mouth, she fastens the velcro and your manhood is embraced by the warm fuzzy ultra-absorbent adult diaper. It feels oddly comforting.

“There, good baby. Now, here’s your bottle.”

Fluttershy pulls a bottle out of her saddlebag containing her patented formula for foal-play. You begin suckling on it, enjoying every sip of the sweet milky fluid. You would wonder what animal this milk came from, if your mind were still capable of rational thought.

The bottle is empty after a minute and she gladly supplies you with two more. “Oh such a good baby. You need lots of extra milk to grow up strong.”

You greedily suck down the second bottle. You nearly cry before realizing the third bottle of the delicious nectar has already been warmed up for you. After the third bottle, you begin to hiccup.

“Oh, let mommy help you with that,” Fluttershy coos into your ear.

You feel a hoof start patting you on the back, right below your shoulder blades. She feels around until she finds a good spot and adjusts how hard she is hitting your back. You begin to burp, immediately feeling much better. After a few more minutes you stop burping and she begins to give you a back massage.

It feels heavenly, and before you know what happened, you find that you’ve crapped the diaper. You begin to cry. It came out of nowhere and you couldn’t have stopped it if you wanted to. After all, you’re just a baby.

“Oh, again? It’s okay, mommy is here for you.”

The diaper comes off and you begin to feel Mommy wiping your bottom for you. After a couple minutes you feel clean and refreshed, tingling from the baby wipes. She uses the baby powder again and you soon find yourself giggling and in a fresh diaper.

“See? All better. From now on, mommy doesn’t want you to eat anymore meat. That’ll make your bowel movements much more regular.”

Never eat meat again is etched into your subconscious through the power of the stare. For a moment, you almost hear that voice in the back of your head from earlier crying out in agony at the thought of never eating a cheeseburger again.

“Oh such a good boy. Here’s your pacifier.”

You begin suckling on the pacifier. It’s the perfect size for you and has an amazingly sweet, plastic taste. It makes you feel complete. Suddenly, you hear your mommy let out a gasp.

“Oh, look at the time! Quick, stare into my ey—”

There is a loud popping sound and a flash. You look around the room but can’t find your mommy. You begin to cry, unsure where she went or when she’s coming back. There is nothing left for you to do but wait for mommy, or the police, to find you crying on the floor of your room when you don’t show up for work Monday.

Author's Note

Vote on Chapter Four's pony here.