Feminine Hell

"Get up, ya fudge packer. It's morning."

Jaxy turned an angry, resentful scowl upwards, blinking the sleepiness from his eyes as he rubbed his sore backside where he'd received a smart kick from an angry, though very smartly groomed stallion whose bright yellow coat glared in his eyes like the sun. Jaxy stated sourly, "You can't kick me anymore, Piss Stain. I'm a stallion now."

The stallion laughed aloud, waking Cinders who gave him a mean scowl. "You sure could have fooled me," He lifted Jaxy's blond, well groomed tail and jeered, "Your hips look just like a mare's. Yer lucky I ain't no foalophile or I'da had some fun with you."

Jaxy cringed slightly at the thought of Piss Stain touching him like that, but he hardly even registered the insult as an insult anymore. Piss Stain was right after all. Jaxy's thick hips, long blond tail and mane, soft chin and cheeks, and his height and demeanor all made him seem far more feminine than any stallion should be. That femininity had caused Jaxy infinite grief in his stay at the orphanage, but now it hardly even mattered to him. No matter what anypony else might say, he was a stallion. And there was no shadow of confusion in his mind about that fact. Despite any of the numerous insults he had at the tip of his tongue, Jaxy held himself in check, instead asking politely, "May I stay for breakfast?"

"Why should you," the yellow stallion sneered. "Ten years ya been here and ya hardly ever contributed anything. Your grubby hooves never got dirty to help put food on the table."

"You know that's not my fault," he countered emphatically, snatching his tail away. "It's not my fault I didn't get my cutie mark while I was here."

Staring down at him imperiously, Piss Stain backed away, holding the curtain flap open, and stated, "No. It is your fault. You were lazy, Jaxy. You don't know what an honest day's work is. When you leave here, you'll be begging for the next week. Then you'll be stealing to survive. Then, if yer lucky to make it that long, you'll get caught and either thrown in prison for the rest of yer miserable life where you'll die of the fun all the other stallions are gonna have with you, or they'll just make up charges about something you didn't do and have you executed to save on time and money. Either way, this is the end of the line for you. And I am not going to lose any sleep over some other pony getting more food because your lazy, good-for-nothing, piece of shit self left to go die."

Jaxy's face was stunned to silence along with Cinders. Piss Stain had always been rough and sometimes a little mean, but neither of them had ever heard such a harsh, cold statement made from him in their lives. And they could both tell by his tone and severity that he'd meant every word of what he'd said. That fact left them ruminating in silence for a long moment, holding close to each other. At length, Jaxy whispered, "I understand if you don't want to come with me."

"Don't worry 'bout it," she stated dismissively, trying very hard in her own way to lighten up the tense atmosphere. "Ya'll'll just need me even more than ya thought. That's all. And ya'll'll have ta work extra hard ta take care of me."

Jaxy forced a laugh that sounded like a pained snort and grunted, "You're already a chore to take care of."

"Hey," she countered, "Yer the one who wants me to come with ya. So that's what Ah'm gonna do. And if ya'll got a problem with that, then it's tough shit for ya." "She nuzzled her face in his chest, a sincere smile adorning it. The smile faded though, as she stated, "Ah've never seen him so upset."

"He's not mad at me," Jaxy whispered with a sigh, petting Cinders' mane softly.

Cinders turned up her face in surprise and asked, "How do ya figure?"

Jaxy frowned and stood, leaving his best friend to lie on the mats. He took to stretching his hind legs as he stated, "I've heard it from others who were leaving. They all get yelled at. I think he does it so we don't try to come back." He hung his head. "I think he doesn't like saying goodbye. So he tries to make sure we don't say goodbye twice."

The filly stood, skepticism smeared on her face. An unusual urge came over her right then, and she responded to it by stepping close to Jaxy and rubbing up against his side, sighing softly as she did. When Jaxy regarded her with a curious grin, she shirked away with a scowl and stated, "Ah doubt it. Yer makin him sound all emotional like an he ain't nothin but a stuck up prick. The fucker don't care 'bout any of us."

Frowning, Jaxy explained, "You know he doesn't get paid, right? You'd think this was his talent, but he's a volunteer. There's nothing he's ever done for us that he's had to do. I know he doesn't show it, but I think he might be the kindest stallion we know."

Cinders hung her head and ruminated on his words as Jaxy picked up a manebrush, his most prized possession, and began brushing his mane. It was a ritual she knew well, and one she had grown past abhorring, instead accepting it as a quirk of his that didn't deserve her reprimand any more than the reprimand of every other pony who endlessly taunted him for bothering to care. It had almost come to the point for her where she couldn't decide if Jaxy was brave for brushing his hair or just plain stupid. Though, she would never admit any bravery in it to his face. In her opinion, he didn't need fuel for the fire of personal pain he was constantly burning himself in. Instead, she did as she had long since become used to doing. She reached over and took the brush from his hooves and began brushing his mane herself, raking out the snags and knots she had caused from the kicking and twitching she did in her sleep. As she did, she whispered, "Then we haven't met many nice ponies, have we?"

Closing his eyes with a smile, he countered, "We met each other? Not all ponies are bad. I really think most ponies are actually really very nice. It's just that they think they have to hide it. They think they shouldn't share who they are with strangers because it sets us up for getting hurt. And as nice as it would be for ponies to all be friends with each other, I think the fear of being hurt keeps us apart."

"Yeah!" Cinders grunted sourly, "And Ah'm sure ponies fuckin each other over has nothin ta do with it." She caught a particularly tough snag and lifted the brush, bringing it lower so she could work from the bottom up. She saw Jaxy smile appreciatively, and she smiled in turn before frowning again and putting down the brush. She said with a somewhat apologetic tone, "Ah'm sorry. Ah didn't mean ta be mean."

"I know." He picked up a small sack off the floor and began collecting his precious few possessions into in: his manerbrush, their blanket, his life savings of 22 gold plated bits, and a bottle of soap he had tried on numerous occasions to get Cinders to use with absolutely no success. The entire packing process only having taken him a couple minutes, he turned to Cinders and asked, "Is there anything you wanted to bring with you?"

The little filly nodded and lifted a section of mats. Jaxy looked at her curiously until she lifted her face from the floor to reveal a rather large, serrated knife in her mouth. Caught off guard, Jaxy cried, "Where did you get that?!"

Scowling at him, the grey furred filly lifted open the sack and slipped it in, saying, "Ah stole it from the butcher down the road a while back. Ah always kept it just in case."

Jaxy gave her a sad sigh and said, "I never realized you ever stole anything. I have to admit, I'm a little disappointed in you, Cinders."

Very matter of factly, she stated, "You won't be so disappointed in me when we need it."

"Celestia help us if we ever should!" He hung his head for a moment before saying, "Okay. You're right. We might need it, though I hope we never will. Is there anything else?"

"No," she muttered with a shake of her head. "At least, nothing I want to take with me."

"Then let's go." He picked up the bag and bent his shoulders low, making a soft, familiar gesture. Cinders couldn't help but smile slightly as she crawled onto his back and hung on tight, squeezing him in a hug that was a good deal more affectionate than she was previously prone to giving him. Jaxy noted the touch and stood for a long moment, reveling the heat of her body on his back. "Though," he thought to himself, "she is actually feeling a bit on the warm side." Before he could dawdle too long for her to notice, he pulled open the curtain and stepped into the common room. All eyes turned on him for the briefest glance. Then, all at once, they turned away from him. He had expected it, had seen it done dozens of times, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. He was not one of them anymore, and they could not keep any tenderness in their hearts for him, lest they suffer greater pain at his departure. He was dead to them, as all adults were.

With his scant few possessions clutched in his mouth, and the scrawny, dirty filly on his back, Jaxy walked across the hall and out the door, stepping outside into a sunny, dewy morning. He felt his heart sink as he looked to his left and to his right, looking upon buildings and streets he'd though were completely familiar to him. Now, they seemed foreign and hostile as they were no longer merely a place for visiting. They were his new home.