Twilight glanced over her checklist a third time.

The art of academic seduction was something she was very familiar with. Having used it many times to acquire favours, prestige, or positions of power, she earned the rank of ‘adept’. She knew how to take anti-derivatives of her professors’ functions until they were correctly curved to find the limit.She knew advanced sensory physiology through in-depth study of unique erogenous zones.

Sometimes she’d have to take it a step further when her necessary premises weren’t leading to her desired conclusion. She’d add a sufficient premise along the lines of ‘Let it be the case that I do present myself in a compromising position and place this ball gag in my mouth, what say you to that?’, to coax her professor into applying the principle of charity to her sexy, lazy precedent. After learning early on that one can pleasure oneself and get good grades, or one can stay up all night and not pleasure themself to get good grades, it became obvious that Twilight was to learn what it means to seduce academically.

It was much like regular seduction— except nerdier.

Yet, with Celestia’s letter, Twilight had a challenge on her hooves. Doctor Whooves was by far the most knowledgeable professor in existence, and therefore, the hardest— to seduce. She’d need to find a way to contain the beautiful, wondrous knowledge that would soon be bursting from his head all over her. It would cover and smother her, and if she wasn’t careful, it might leave her in a comatose state. It would take all her mental willpower to entertain his advanced theory and all her knowledge of the subject to convince such an important, high-profile academic to agree to work with her.

So, she made a list of all the things she’d need or possibly need. Considering how chaotic everything was about to make when a time lord and the physical embodiment of magic collaborated on a the highly theoretical paper concerning the sexual satisfaction of a timeless lunar princess, the list was long to say the least. Somewhere between the encyclopedia and ‘Of War and Peace: The Epic Mini-Series’ in length. Given her week-long deadline, Twilight had a lot of hunting for supplies to do. And by hunting, she meant liberal reallocation of resources.

That’s right, Twilight Sparkle, Princess of Academic Seduction and Petty Theft. Her parents were understandably against the self-proclaimed title she used to introduce herself at royal functions, but as of April 18th, this year, all that changed. As a small nod of favouritism towards the the new princess, Celestia enacted a decree that Twilight Sparkle’s parents must say they are proud of her whenever asked.

Twilight pushed those thoughts from her mind and with a pop, she teleported from the library to her first stop on her mini-crime spree, Fluttershy’s cottage. Given her profession, Fluttershy had regular access to many unusual items of questionable moral purpose. Among them, were high-powered bear tranquilizer, bear mace, bullwhips, and iron manacles, all with the added bonus of smelling like Fluttershy’s coochy.

Twilight snuck up to the window and peered inside. Fluttershy was having tea with Berry Punch. Now, there was an odd couple, the darndest pony and the drunkest pony. What was funny, was that if either of them got too extreme in their respective trait, they more or less became the same thing, a babbling, blushing, bashful mess. It was cute relationship based off of excessive innocence being so delicately handled by excessive drunkenness.

Nothing could go wrong with that.

Twilight slowly inched the window open and fell through it, crashing down to the ground in a commotion. She screamed and flailed as she did, knocking over birdcages, bags of food, furniture, and Fluttershy. Twilight got up and brushed herself off, before opening the door to the basement and tip-toeing down.

Fluttershy stumbled back to an upright position after being alicorn’ed right in the innocence. She swayed a bit in a daze. “Wh-what was that?” she whispered, her eyes wide and mildly retarded, a tear of beautiful happiness welled up.

“It was the sound of your heart calling to you,” Berry Punch replied tenderly. “Let me call it back.” She held up a phone to her ear while moving her hoof to Fluttershy’s inner thigh. “Hello? Is this Fluttershy’s heart—? I’d like to report a theft— yes, I’ll hold.”

In the center of the basement, Twilight found Rainbow Dash wearing a diaper. She sat innocently in the center of the floor sucking her hoof. Babies normally did that, but she seemed to be sucking a little too intently. Also, there was moaning, copious amounts of moaning.

“Welp, this is certainly a thing,” Twilight said. “Rainbow, you don’t have some sort of age regression fetish, do you?”

“Mama?” Dash cooed. She flopped onto her side, taking another hoof in her mouth. This could have almost been adorable if she wasn’t fully grown or spoke with a mature voice. Since both of those were the case, Twilight could safely leave mentally scarred, but not before gathering the supplies that brought her there in the first place.

“No, wait,” Twilight said, examining her. “You’ve been conditioned to act like a baby, haven’t you? Probably by Fluttershy’s alternate personality, the one that comes out when she can’t get an animal to love her?” To the left of Rainbow Dash she spotted a locker with all of the things she needed and began to help herself to its oddly specific, convenient contents. “Ah! Just what I’m looking for. Yes, that specific alternate personality does seem rather raperific. Because I’m your friend, I’m going to steal her tasers and electric play stuff so she doesn’t use them on you later.”

She placed them into the invisible, bottomless saddlebags that she had worn every day for the last ten years of her life. They made petty theft laughably easy, so much so that whenever she did laugh, it was because she was stealing something mildly valuable.

“You have a fun night.”

She trotted upstairs and saw— something. It was Berry Punch and Fluttershy, but it was what could best be described as a single phone-themed joke taken too far and somehow worked into light, awkward, sexual touching.

“The number you have dialed is not in service anymore,” Berry Punch said to Fluttershy’s zippity zip. “Please hang up and try again.” She began ‘dialing’.

“Oh, please Berry, I don’t want to be out of service! Ahh— oh!”

Twilight snuck out of the house and headed to the Net Guns and Tables Store. Luckily they stayed open late. Mainly because the former part of their stores namesake only had one client who single hoofedly kept them in business.

“Good evening, Artemis. I see business is slow as usual?” Twilight asked.

“Not when you’re here! So what’ll brings you around? Trying your hoof at speed dating again?”

“Actually, I’m working on a dissertation, but I’ll still need the usual, three net guns and a new desk.” Twilight pointed over to a sturdy looking writing desk. It was made of thick mahogany wood, and had ornate carvings along the edges. “I’ll take that one.”

“A keen eye as always, Ms. Sparkle. Would you like that in paper or plastic?” Artemis asked.

“Neither.” Twilight opened up her saddlebag and levitated the writing desk inside. She then took three of the heat-seeking net-gun 5000’s and some spare ammo.

“That’ll be. . . 450 bits.”

Twilight reached into the other side of the saddlebag with her magic. Usually the purse with her bits was right next to her lucky pair of socks, but tonight she had to reach around rings of raunchy, retro-actively releasing ramification, delve deep through daunting, delicious, dowels of dicking, and probe past probes. She eventually found four platinum pieces and fifty bits.

“There you go! And if the table isn’t sturdy enough, what’s the refund policy?” Twilight asked.

“This table is a class fourteen, premium writing table. It is decorative, and is considered a ‘no-contact’ table. It was historically used for the annual, ‘Celestia Suplexes Her Sister on Top of a Table Day,’ in which it was purposely broken in the festivities. It says right on the disclaimer stapled onto it that the table is for decoration and decoration only. Failure to comply with these warnings to use this table for anything, including but not limited to the following, construes a breach of contract and Table Inc. can not be held liable: The following actions may not be performed on top of the table. Writing, sitting, laying, placing objects, aggressively looking, aggressively breathing, suplexing, having sex with time lords, spilling drinks, fire, not fire, Princess Luna, flammable item—”

Artemis looked around as the door swung closed. Twilight had left without listening to the full disclaimer. “Your loss!” he shouted. “Warranty is void if you don’t listen to the whole thing!”

Twilight looked around her basement. In just three days she had compiled all the materials for her thesis experiment. Normally a doctoral candidate would have thousands of pages of reading ahead of them, but Twilight Sparkle had that covered. Considering how many how many lonely nights she spent reading with only her hoof to keep her company, she had read every essay and novel containing the tags “Luna”, “Satisfaction”, and “Sex” within an hour of their publishing. She was more or less the latent expert in her field.

It occurred to her that after this paper, she’d have a Ph. D in sex. She’d get the one thing that every academic joked as having for real. Sometimes her nicer professors would have her address them as ‘Dr. Dickenhole, Ph. D. of Rutting’ when they were changing her grades, but she knew it was a lie. There were never diplomas on their wall for ‘rutting’, ‘shagging’, or ‘fornicating’.

Also, it would be nice to be able to show ponies a certificate proving, once and for all, that Twilight Sparkle was not a virgin.

All of the wards for the spell were in place. A giant alchemist’s circle, some devil traps, arcane symbols, enchanted crystals, and more adorned the room. Celestia told her to cast a wildly brash time spell to bring her head of committee, The Doctor, to her.

Twilight charged her horn and energy began to swirl around the room. She heard a faint whirring sound and focused harder on the spell. Clocks spun like crazy and the days passed like seconds outside. The Doctor would have no choice but to intervene and stop her from meddling with time. If he didn’t, this spell would reverse time in Ponyville, creating a paradox that would tear apart the fabric of reality, and kill every sapient being that had ever existed.

Probably.

A blue box began fading in and out of time in the corner of the room. Twilight smiled and readied her net gun. Right as the blue box solidified, she was blinded by a white flash. The box began fading out again and she put down the net gun.

She was risking every sapient being dyin—”Damn it, time has reversed!” Twilight tried to not think about what she just thought about, but since she just thought about it, and time was moving backwards, she thought about it. If nothing else, being forced to imagine Luna’s sexy flank again wasn’t so bad. Being an introverted, thinking pony, having her thoughts ripped from her control and being forced to imagine lewd things was strangely erotic.

It proved futile as time, the universe, and everything continued to regress along its past trajectory. Twilight began to disassemble the safety mechanism to the spell. It was the last thing she added to the spell, therefore it was the first thing she began to remove.With the safety mechanism safely removed, she could proceed to flipping out.

“No no no! This is bad! Very bad!” Twilight fought frantically but had become stuck in reverse-time. She charged her horn but couldn’t reverse it.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she chanted rapidly.

Twilight began to cry as the room shook and the walls began to tear. White light began pouring through the walls. She heard a screeching sound and an explosion. Her ears dropped as everything went silent. She was left in a void.

“God damnit, I just killed the universe.”

Then she heard the whirring and whistles again. Before she could turn to face the sound, she heard the voice of her savior.

“Allons-y!”

Twilight felt something grab her mane, and the next thing she knew she was laying on her back staring up into the Doctor Whoove’s sexy blue eyes.

Twilight rolled over as alarm klaxons sounded and red lights flashed around the smoky room.

“This is bad, very bad!” Doctor Whooves shouted. “You’ve collapsed the arcsine of the time vortex!”

“That’s impossible! My spell was only supposed to reverse time! I did mess with the arcsin, but only to draw provocative pictures of the universal plane with functions to draw you in!” Twilight said. “Celestia said I had to capture you and ask you to teach me about sexual pleasuring!”

“Ridiculous, Celestia wanting me to teach you sex unless. . .” The Doctor flung one of the view screens down and called up some data. “That’s it! Oh, my mind can be slow sometimes but I always find the answer! This is the time we—actually, that’d be a spoiler. Let’s just say we’re in for one hell of a paradox and it involves about 90% of the intercourse I’ll have this century. Oh this is going to be fun!”

“Wait, what? You’re going to agree to be my head of committee for my dissertation on how to best pleasure Princess Luna?” Twilight stood up and watched the Doctor run around like a mad stallion.

“Honestly, we don’t have too much of a choice, now do we? Tell me, is your data going to be qualitative or quantitative?”

“Oh my goodness.” She blushed, instantly fanning herself. “Doctor, you’re really to-the-point, aren’t you?”

“Dumb question, it’s a fixed point in space actually. We’ve always had, will have, are having, the best sexual experimentation of our lives. Given that you end up in a coma for two months afterwards, I’d say it will be both qualitative and quantitative. You may want to study up on those stamina spells a little more, just incase we can nudge that fixed point a smidgen to the left.”

Twilight stood there with her mouth agape. The Doctor looked over and saw her expression. “Not now! I’ve got to land the T.A.R.D.I.S.! Close your mouth and cross your legs, we’ll have plenty of time later!” He muttered something about nymphomaniacs to his ship.

Twilight sat down and began to rummage through her saddlebags of holding for a quill and some paper. She trembled as she imagined just how she’d feel during their research later. Her bored hoof began a search starting with the inside of her calf. “I think I’d like to take some notes,” she said as she watched the sweat drip from his chiseled face and body. “Why aren’t we dead yet?

“Nasty bit of work, that paradox you created. Lucky for us, we’re in the last pocket of normal space time. The T.A.R.D.I.S. is bouncing off the walls of the bubble, I need to fix the inertial dampeners and re-align the selenium matrix to stabilize the time vortex or we could collapse the bubble.”

Bouncing around inside my walls, blowing bubbles, inside and damp, slamming into my matrix and vortex until I collapse. Twilight finished writing her notes and looked back up. “Okay, so how do we fix it?”

“First thing’s first. We have to land in a remote location and create our own paradox, something that will cancel out the paradox you created. I just wish I took better notes on our encounter.” Sparks showered from above the Doctor as several fuses exploded. “Damn it, T.A.R.D.I.S., I’m a Doctor, not an engineer!” He leapt into the air and grabbed onto a rope, hoisting himself to the fuse box.

Twilight stopped writing and looked at the Doctor. He was now hanging upside down over the control panel with the sonic screwdriver in his mouth, realigning the selenium something-or-other. Either that or switching out a five volt fuse. So much was happening that Twilight felt like a foal in an advanced theoretical geometry class. It was super hot.

“Doctor, we haven’t met yet. How do you have notes on this event?” Twilight asked. She was glad the levitation spell left her hooves free.

“This is the first time you’ve met me, but I’ve known you for eleven months. After I got—spoilers, heh. Anyway, the only downside to the timey wimey stuff is if I don’t reenact everything just right, I’ll create a new timeline. If that happens, I can no longer guarantee we fix the universe.”

Twilight tilted her head and raised a hoof to her chin. “Wait, but you haven’t enacted anything yet, how can you be re-enacting an event that hasn’t happened yet? That’s scientifically impossible! You’re impossible!” she said triumphantly, her heart racing. For the first time in about five minutes, she felt like she actually knew what was going on. She was connecting in the most intimate way academics could connect.

Nerd fighting.

The Doctor ran over to Twilight and slapped her. She took it and gasped, eyes burning with passion.

“Get ahold of yourself! You’re a magical pony on a blue box powered by a dying star, anchored to the vortex of time itself, and plummeting through all thirteen dimensions towards a stable anchor to attach my flying magical spaceship too!” the Doctor refuted quite logically.

“I am so sorry. How illogical of me. I’ve been a bad, bad mare,” she moaned.

“Apology accepted. Now, just sit there like Derpy did and I’ll have this fixed in no time. I still can’t believe she caught on faster than you.”

“The mail mare?! What do you mean she caught on quicker than me?!” Twilight stamped, steam whistling out of her ears.

“I only had to ask her once to stop interrupting me, now shut up and strap in!”

The room shook violently and Twilight heard the worst screeching sound imaginable. It was like a thousand hooves being drawn across a thousand chalkboards, and then silenced all at once. Twilight flew against the door to the T.A.R.D.I.S. and tumbled out into a rosebush. She sat up and began to pick the thorns out, finding herself back in the middle of Ponyville. The Doctor stepped out of the police box. His ship slammed the doors behind him, making a huffing sound.

“Well, she’s not going to let me live this one down for awhile.” He looked back at his ship and sighed. “Sorry about that, I’ll have you fixed up in no time and we’ll go for a nice cruise on the time streams.”

Twilight was looking around at all the ponies. For some reason, none of them were familiar. “When are we?” she said, her blood cooling a bit. Being thrown in a rosebush was definitely not one of her fetishes.

“So help me, if I hear that question one more time I’ll. . .” The Doctor looked at Twilight and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, when you’re as old as me you’ve heard that question a million times. Well, 1,491 times to be exact but who's counting.” The Doctor’s eyebrow twitched. “We’re in Ponyville, circa 1549.”

“Wait, but that’s before I was born! We were in 1593 just moments ago!” Twilight looked around and began to see the family resemblance in some of the ponies. The green mare there must have been Granny Smith, or more accurately, Smith in this time period.

“Yes, well, I left my notes inside but I believe this is the part where we head to the local motel, rent out their largest room, and begin your dissertation.” The Doctor straightened his bow tie and began to walk towards town square.

“Oh of course!” she said with a smile. “I have my saddlebags and everything we’ll need! You’ll never believe this but they’re bi—”

“Bigger on the inside. I’d rather not hear that again either. Trust me, lived thousands of years, regenerated twenty times, and wouldn’t you know it. . . twenty-first time I regenerate I woke up as a pony. Been flying around here ever since. Had to babysit Luna and Celestia as fillies once. . .”

Twilight began bouncing around. “Ohmigosh, really?! You knew the princess as fillies? Do you have pictures? Come on! Pictures or it didn’t happ—”

The Doctor glared at Twilight. “I’ll have you know I’m a very busy Doctor. I’ve certified fifty-seven mares and one stallion— and before you say anything, it was college, shut up—in sexual Ph. D’s. If you want your dissertation to be approved so you can impress Celestia then you’ll listen carefully.”

Twilight levitated her quill to the ready and held it against her parchment. A pair of black glasses landed on her nose, allowing her to see 20% clearer. Now that she was back in note taking position, she could make up for lost ground on the ‘research’ front.

“First off, this will be a hooves-on exercise. I was never a fan of didactic learning. If you have any heart conditions, spinal injuries, recent surgeries, or know of any other reason why you may not be fit for intense physical activity, speak up now.”

The quill continued to scribbled down her notes as she used her hooves to relax her into ‘research’ position. Whooves on myself, I may suffer spinal injuries from the sex, may need surgery, and may find reasons for more intense physical activity. “Yep, sounds good!”

“Secondly, this is strictly professional. We’re both adults, and when I have you chained down to a bed, frozen in time mid-orgasm, and am hitting you with a wiffle bat, I don’t want you talking about moving in together or going steady. Clear?”

We will have to move in together after having sex with a wiffle bat’s orgrasm. “Crystal clear!” Note to self: have Colgate write prescriptions for large amounts of codeine to dull the inevitable sore muscles.

“The third and final rule is this: What happens in this closed time loop, stays in this closed time loop. You’re not to be sending me dozens of nubile young mares begging for Ph. D’s, and you’re definitely not allowed to ever cast such an obviously flawed time spell again. Celestia could have just given you my phone number.”

Send Doctor nubile young mares as thanks for my Ph. D. Note to self: Cutie Mark Crusaders turn eighteen in six years. Make sure to cast obviously flawed time spells if I want seconds. “Alright, I got all the rules written down!” She rolled the scroll up and slid it in the saddlebag.

“Good, because we’re here.”

Twilight looked around to find themselves in the honeymoon sweet of the Ponyville inn. “But. . . how. . . you?”

“You were so busy writing your notes that I paid for the room and walked you in here.” The Doctor smiled at Twilight, gesturing with his head towards the bed. “You want to get set up? The first test is a practical demonstration. You have fifteen minutes to build a dungeon that takes thirty minutes to reach climax.”

“Oh, I know this one! I’ll make the dungeon a circle!”

“Tick tock, Twilight.” Doctor Whooves sat down on the nearby sofa and closed his eyes.

Twilight had been hard at work. She had laid out all manner of naughty toys, toys the like of which this narrator has the vocabulary to express, but is too horrified by their implied uses to do so in this paragraph.

She had also put on rainbow colored socks, a latex catsuit, and used her magic to braid her mane and tail. The spreader bars and leather straps on the bed were set up for the Doctor to use. Twilight just had to figure out a way to make him last thirty minutes.

“Time’s up!” The Doctor shouted.

Twilight smiled, levitating a small whip into her mouth and pointing the Doctor towards the bed.

“Oh no, you misunderstood the test. I’m putting you in the restraints, and you have to last thirty minutes or you fail. Also, if you fail I’m kicking you out and leaving you here when I fix the universe. So, there’s totally no pressure, my little love muffin. . . I mean love slave. Ugh, old habits, do forgive me.”

Twilight had dropped the whip as she stared at the Doctor in shock. She hadn’t realized he wanted her on the bed. She fired up her horn in protest just in time for the Doctor to activate his sonic screwdriver.

Her horn did nothing. Twilight felt as the Doctor had somehow managed to completely block her magic. “What?! How did you do tha—mmphm.”

The Doctor was now using his sonic screwdriver to levitate and manipulate objects in the air. He had just fastened the largest ball gag he could find into Twilight’s mouth. “This is much better, we should have done this from the start.”

Twilight began backing away from the Doctor.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be shy, this is only the first test, remember? Didn’t Celestia tell you I was the best lover in the universe? So, trust me, and get on the bed.” The Doctor smirked.

Twilight pouted, before finally climbing up onto the bed. She closed her eyes and heard dozens of restraints, locks, and other leathery-items snap shut. Twilight tried to struggle, but couldn’t move an inch.

She felt the sonic screwdriver brush against her inner thigh and shivered. “Now, what does a naughty mare like you enjoy?”

Twilight began to feel warm as she listened to his voice.

“I think we’ll start with. . . a thought experiment.”

She shuddered in anticipation.

“Let’s begin with the double slit experiment. During my eighth incarnation I had the pleasure of meeting a scientist by the name of Thomas Young. We set up an experiment to determine if light was a wave or a particle.”

Twilight closed her eyes and began drooling around the gag. The latex had become hot and sticky against her damp fur.

“It was rather simple to take a piece of metal with two thin slits in it and set it up in front of a white detection screen. We turned on the light and observed the wave interference of the photons. Hundreds of photons poured into the slits, filling them and canceling each other out, causing dozens of slits of varying intensity to hit the back wall.”

Twilight bit down on the gag to try and resist the tightening muscles near her thighs. She still had twenty-eight or so minutes to go, and if she let him get to her she would fail.

“Anyway, we proved pretty conclusively photons were waves, yet I knew better. I suggested that to him, and he immediately caught on. We could do better. We built a particle emitter that would fire a single photon at a time. One photon, aimed directly at the two slits.”

Twilight caught herself grinding against the damp latex suit, pulling on the restraints just to feel them dig into her legs. She opened her eyes and looked around, sweating profusely. The clock on the wall indicated she had twenty-six minutes left. Yep, I’m screwed. I’m going to fail and get banished for sure. . .

“We fire the single photon and we knew since it was a lone photon, there would be no interference. Imagine his surprise when the waveform still interfered with itself. A single photon does not simply interfere with itself!” The Doctor laughed, continuing to pace around the bed and watch the alicorn squirm in ecstasy. This is even easier than Luna was.

Twilight was fighting against a hot tide of emotion the like of which her innocent mind had never imagined, despite the influence of friends like Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash. Everypony knew how promiscuous pegasi were, and yet even their attempts to show Twilight a “good time” had never made her feel this. . . alive.

“. . .So we now had a problem on our hands. How could a single photon be a wave and interfere with itself? It didn’t add up, so I recommended the detector. A simple photon detector, placed above one of the two slits, ever so precisely, to aim right down the slit. . .”

Twilight had to close her eyes again. She began reciting the Equestrian National Anthem in her head as loudly as she could. Her loud moaning and frantic mental singing couldn’t drown out the sound of the Doctor’s voice, which was growing sexier by the second.

“. . . that was when we fired the single photon again. Now that the detector was over the left slit, the photon only passed through one of the two slits! Confused, Thomas turned the detector off and the next photon passed through both as a wave, interfering with itself!”

Twilight felt like she was drowning in sweat and passion. Her muscles were trembling from being pulled taut against the restraints, and she had no choice but to relax. Surrendering to her body, she glanced over at the clock. Twelve minutes remained.

“. . .Hundreds of times we repeated the test. When a single photon is fired at two slits, it goes through both. When it is fired at two slits and one of them has a detector, the photon only passes through one slit. The mere act of observing the photon causes it to change from a wave to a particl—”

The Doctor had paused to listen as Twilight moaned loudly into the gag. He watched her convulse, barely avoiding an automatic failure on the lesson. Her breathing was frantic, quick, and heavy.

“. . .The particle changed from a wave to a particle, with the simple act of observation! It was then that Thomas discovered that a photon is both a wave and a particle! He was so ecstatic, filled with pure ecstasy at discovering what a single photon could do to a double slit. . .” The Doctor smirked.

Twilight’s whole body was quivering, passing the point of no return. The Doctor continued talking. He had mentioned something about dark matter being both matter and energy at the same time. Twilight picked up bits about how you could race two photons. The words were difficult to hear, but at this point focusing on them was the only thing delaying her release.

“So, that’s when Einstein reset the test and bet me a hundred bits that he could predict the photon that would win the race. We fired up the device, emitting four photons. I activated the measurement devices at the finish line. I shouted out, ‘Number three wins!’ “

Twilight tensed up every muscle in her body as the pressure built to an unbearable level.

“And he yells, ‘No fair! You changed the outcome by observing it!” The Doctor burst out laughing.

Twilight came. Hard. A million fibers of her being lit in a fiery passion, contracting every single muscle in her body. She began convulsing wildly, each time a restraint tugged back against her she tightened up her abdomen even tighter. She could feel her juices pooling inside the latex, and did her best to rub her crotch against the latex.

Every fiber of her being continued writhing in ecstasy. Twilight imagined that the Doctor must be reveling in her failure. It could have been minutes or hours before she calmed down and began to cry.

She had failed.

“Oh Twilight, don’t be so sad! You lasted thirty-one minutes. You pass the first part of the dissertation! Congratulations!”

Twilight sighed in relief, and opened an eye to check the clock. Nearly an hour had gone by. Had she been. . . enjoying herself for that long?

“Now, I did promise it would be hooves on, did I not?”

Twilight craned her head up to look at the Doctor. He was holding onto something enormous.

“Now that you’re. . . primed I’m going to show you several interesting techniques used by the doctoral committee. You’ll have to win their approval to get a Ph. D in sex.”

Twilight gulped, and prayed silently to Celestia that whatever he was holding was some sort of marital aid and not his d—Crap. That’s at least twice as large as the model in sex ed class. How does he walk around without it dragging on the floor?

“. . .relax as I teach you the mareinary position, made famous by devout mares in the Church of Celestia. Rather vanilla, but it’s a perfect place to start. Now, deep breaths, because this also gets bigger on the inside.”

Twilight felt something impale her as her eyes rolled back into her head and her mind shut down, leaving her body on autopilot.

The smell of a fresh daisy salad awoke Twilight from her slumber. The clock had begun to chime for noon. She was able to find her strength again and began to levitate the cucumbers out of the salad to nibble on them. Twilight loved nibbling on cucumbers.

Laughter echoed from the other side of the room. “You planning to remain conscious long enough for the next lesson this time?”

Twilight gasped. “So soon? I haven’t taken my notes yet.”

“Hmm, I suppose a break is in order. I do sort of have something you need to know. . .” The Doctor smiled, but maintained his distance.

“What? Are we stuck here? Did you step on a butterfly? I knew it! We’ve ruined everything!” Twilight began to hyperventilate.

The Doctor tapped his hoof on the floor three times. Twilight suddenly found herself smiling and breathing slowly. “Lesson fourteen on operant conditioning is always my favorite. You should see what you can do with some conditioning and liberal use of duct tape.”

Twilight shuddered. “Uh, let’s save that for the dissertation defense?”

“Sure. Anyhow, I triggered the paradox that will restore the timeline.”

Twilight sat up completely in the bed, ignoring her salad. “That’s great! We should grab some of Appleja—Granny Smith’s hard apple cider to celebrate!”

The Doctor chuckled nervously. “We won’t be doing that, either. . . you see, the only way to cancel out the paradox you destroyed the universe with was to create a new paradox. The two of them would repel each other, causing them to land in a distant alternate reality, becoming some other-Doctor’s problem. Who knows, maybe we get lucky and they land in a universe populated by tribbles or black holes.”

“Wait. . . we needed a new paradox. We spent all night last night ‘studying’ sex. Suddenly, the paradox has been created. That narrows the list down substantially. Given the current year and the year of my birt—NO!” Twilight screamed. “You didn’t! You’re my father! How?”

The Doctor laughed. “No, I didn’t go cheat on your Father and get your Mother pregnant. Don’t be so crass. I got you pregnant, and eleven months from now you’ll deliver a healthy stallion who will become your father one day.”

Twilight’s mouth hung open as her eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. No, not the wimpy tea saucers, I’m talking the “All you can eat buffet” dinner plates.

“You—me—grandfather paradox?”

“More of a grandmother paradox,” the Doctor explained. “You see, by becoming your own grandmother you created a paradox strong enough to destroy the universe, thus canceling out the other universe-shattering paradox.”

“Like. . . dividing by zero . . . twice! It’s just crazy enough. . . to work! Great idea, Spock!” Twilight began cackling madly as she had a nervous breakdown.

The Doctor’s hoof tapped three times, snapping her out of it. “Celestia should pay me more for conditioning her students. You know Starswirl had tourettes? Celestia finally just bought a metronome because she got tired of tapping her hoof to break him out of it.”

“If I’m my own grandmother, then I didn’t exist until I slept with the Doctor, and if I didn’t exist I didn’t sleep with the Doctor, therefore I didn’t become my own grandmother, yet here I am sleeping with the Doctor, proving that I existed before giving birth to my own father, which proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that I’ve died and gone to Tartarus. . .”

“As amusing as it is to hear you ramble on without stopping for a breath, it’s not all bad.” The Doctor smiled and walked over to her, and began to massage her shoulders. “We have eleven months here until you give birth to work on your dissertation. We’ll arrive back in Ponyville six minutes after you left, no one the wiser.”

“Well, I suppose three hundred and thirty more nights like last night wouldn’t be so bad. . .”

“That’s the spirit, and when we run out of props for class, you can get more from Ms. Smith. That old mare has more devices than you could ever imagine.”

Twilight stared at him in horror. “Wait, you mean all those toys are Granny’s? I thought those were Applejacks!”

“Well, she did pass down a third of her collection to Applejack, and a third will go to Apple Bloom one day.” The Doctor looked up into the air, and lost himself in nostalgia. “Even at a hundred and two she’s still as foxy as the day I first met her. I remember when we broke her titanium hip on her hundred and first birthday. The latex ca—”

“Nope!” Twilight shouted. There were certain mental images no pony should ever be subjected to. “Let’s change the topic! How did you start flying around with Derpy?”

A wide smile crossed the stallions face. “Ah, Derpy. Probably one of my favorites, you know. Well, on a platonic ‘let me teach you how to please a stallion through months of vigorous intercourse’ kind of way.”

The Doctor levitated a tomato out of Twilight’s salad and ate it. “You see, she actually created her own paradox. She really, really loves muffins. Derpy became determined to bake a never-ending muffin. Muffins within muffins, down beyond the safe limit of three nested loops.

“The iterations of her bakery product caused a recursive algorithm to trigger, causing an exponential stack overflow error that the universe had not been coded to handle. Before I knew what had happened, the T.A.R.D.I.S. sensors detected a muffinception disaster that was off the charts!

“I landed in Ponyville as quickly as I could, only barely arriving in time to save Derpy. The muffins had become sentient, and had nearly swallowed her whole. After I pulled her out of the muffin, she offered me her muffin. And well. . . to be honest, she’s the first pony I ever loved. Normally I keep it professional, but something about that wall-eyed grin melted my heart.”

“That’s really sweet. I’m glad to know there’s some emotion under a million years of sexual prowess and an intellect to rival all of ponydom combined.”

“Heh, very sweet. So, do you want to do the oral exam next?”

“How many questions are on that exam?” Twilight asked.

“Only one. Do you have a gag reflex?”

Dear Princess Celestia,

Enclosed inside is a bid for my doctoral candidacy, approved by, and defended to Doctor Whooves.

When you first wrote to me about the need of research in the area of “How would I best bring Princess Luna to complete satisfaction?” I figured you were a whore, but after conducting my own research, I came— to the conclusion that maybe there is scientific value to be had with copious amounts of sex. Sex is something that’s intrinsic to the survival of life, and from the stories the Doctor has told me about Luna, she needs it, badly. A thousand years on the moon without anything but her own hooves apparently made her a little bit uptight, and not in the good way. All of this being the strongest evidence for why this question needed to be asked in the first place.

Lucky for Equestria, I have an answer to the question. In chapter five, I used many scenarios to illustrate my point in the excessive use of tasers and machinery. Luna needs to be broken in like the dirty, dirty, sexy mare she is. I will personally conduct these preliminary tests.I think I’m going to ask her out on a date, and I’ll teach her every trick the Doctor showed me.

Additionally, I took the liberty to ask the same question with you in mind, but you’ll find it absent in the attachments. Why? Because I always thought Luna was way hotter than you anyway, and this will teach you to stop sleeping with clones of yourself. That’s not just incest, it’s masterbation and frankly you should be ashamed.

Now, I’m going to let the Doctor strap me down onto my writing desk and ride me like a bull at a rodeo until the rodeo clowns pull him off me. Then, I’m gonna do it again every day for the next ten freaking months until I give birth to my own father. By my calculations I’ll have had over 9,000 orgasms by the time you receive this letter. I think we both know who the real expert on intercourse is now.

Your sexually decimated and pregnant star pupil,

Twilight Sparkle.

p.s. Tell Luna to bring plenty of lubricant.

Author's Note

Link to Double Slit Experiment

Now you can tell everyone you learned something today, and not just about pony sex. You can now prove a photon is both a wave and a particle.