Everything hurts. Living, breathing, being, you name it, it hurts, and its getting worse.
But “hurt” is a world I can’t just say, I have to say it alongside a brief description of what that “hurt” comes from.
To start, allow me to explain a little bit about why I am in a state of “hurt”.
I come from a line of breeders; a family of straight ponies, all of which have what I call insensitivity, a state of misunderstanding towards things that are different, and in response to the things that they are not, they seek to “fix” what they deem “broken”. My family deems me broken, or at least, they are catching on, and they only need one piece of evidence to decide to “fix” me.
And I just overheard something about the nurse preparing a cavity search, something about “signs of sexual assault. My thoughts jumped the gun and began with statements like their going to find out! and questions like maybe it’s for someone else?.
Thought number two decides it’s answer was more important. And allows an ambiguous nurse to come in, followed by a cart being pushed by a young, pale-cream coated stallion stallion.
I should mention by now that my temple and jaw were wrapped in gauze as was my upper midsection, my legs were lifted displaying my hocks to the open air. Though my crotch was covered up by a blanket, the outline was still there, displaying my sheath and humble gonads to the world through an embossment of silk. Oh, and blue balls is a bitch.
As the two settled in, the unknown spoke up, with a soothing tone she introduced herself and her colleague “hey there Sylvis, I’m nurse Redheart and this is my assistant” she gestured towards the nervous stallion to her right, “nurse bulb heart”.
That name, oh god that name, It rang in my ears, it made my heart pound, my god there was no way.
I will have to elaborate on this as well, my apologies for the anecdotes. When I first began exploring my sexuality, I began with personification, giving euphemisms I picked up from my parents immature “friends” character, creating for myself imaginary lovers like “hit and run”, “foul play”, “screw driver”, and many others. I had gone through so many, all of them dying off due to a lack of interest.
Then came bulb heart, the iron cock. his story was thus, he never goes flaccid, he has no such thing as “needing a break”, always ready to go, and never ready to stop.
And here he was, in all his glory, standing there, waiting for a hopeless sleeve to..
Oh yeah, back to the story.
In my haze I missed their explanation of what was going on. The sound of my name brought me out of my stupor.
“sylvis, please answer swiftly, the sooner this is done the sooner you may return to resting” the mare spoke, a hint of struck nerves coat her voice.
I quickly answered, unsure of what was going on, “what was the question”, I gave her an unsure smile, at least that’s what I hoped to be giving, my jaw being wrapped and all.

“would you be more comfortable with me, or bulb, to carry out the …”
fuck, that name gets me every time, my thoughts bled, once again proving to the world that my short attention span still rules.
In a drowsy, satisfied moan “Bulb”.
Red nodded apprehensibly, then whispered something into bulb’s ear. Bulb nodded, and proceeded to uncover the cart. Halfway through the unveiling a voice called out, “we need help over here we have 3 code magentas and need all available nurses to the E.R!” red jerked in response, looking between me and bulb, she let out a sigh and ran off through the doors, leaving me and bulb alone.
An awkward moment decided to stop by, prop its feet up, and enjoy the show.
“so” he forced, “is…there anything I n..need to know, or something you need to say, before we… start?”
My breath caught, a blush spread across my cheeks and I became acutely aware of how cold my crotch was becoming. There was something I needed to stay, and I didn’t want to say it.
He resumed the uncovering, as my sheath resumed as well.
My sheath decided to begin its performance due to the instrument that was uncovered earlier on the cart.
I can’t give you it’s real name, but the best I can tell you is this: it was a ten inch long, three inch thick, glass pole with bulbous protrusions every other inch, the only other feature it had was a rubber handle and a wire leading to some kind of unimportant block, I named it thriller.
I want to say my first thought was the desire I had to be filled by that beast. But the truth is, I was in the middle of the hardest would-you-rather I had ever faced.
Would you rather have bulb be the first real stallion to fuck you raw, or have your insides turned to mush by thriller.
But I didn’t have the guts to ask for either, all I could do was dream, that’s all I could ever do.
“sylvis”
Once again, my mind reached the end of it’s journey by the sound of my name.
“I’m going to say this, off the record, and…. I want you to know that…. I ” I heard him whisper into my ear, the tension, so tight you could snap it by blowing out a candle too hard.
“I can see what going on in your head” he spoke as quietly as he could, confusing me. why are you so nervous?
“because i’m using a spell”
“…”
The words he said rang in my head, bleeding the blues as my eyes suddenly watered up, making it rain sadness across my cheeks.
I closed my eyes and began sobbing, my breath catching every other wheeze, cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. I resolved to just repeat my past emotional standing:
Everything hurts.
Living,
Breathing,
Being,
You name it, it hurts, and it’s getting worse.
And worse..
And worse…
But “hurt” is a world I can’t just say, I have to feel it too.

I felt a presence, a very unexpected presence, a presence that made me feel welcome, warm, and comfortable, the presence moved in and around, gracing every bit of mine with a gentle caress, its being can be only defined by a word containing an unknown quantity love.
What I was feeling, was a pair of lips, his lips, against mine, sending surges of the unknown through me in waves, waves as powerful as a tsunami, those waves turned into his tongue, where mine was the beach, he dominated my mouth.
Then, after what felt like the age of the known universe, the act stopped.
I don’t want this to ever end
“it doesn’t have to, Sylvia”
I didn’t have words to describe what I felt, only a question brought itself to light.
“what all did you see?” my voice shook, a rasp hidden under my wanting breath.
“oh, I don’t know, when did you first mention ‘blue balls’?”
He giggled a hint at my blush, then leaned in deeper. “so, tell me the story about thriller, surely he deserves a story, I mean” he reached his tongue out and licked my cheek, “you did compare him under the same context to me.”
I could barely focus, his question sent me into shock, my mind was mush and his every word pushed me to the edge of perception, at this point gravity was a mere suggestion, I felt an onslaught of contesting emotions, all of which had nothing better to do. Questions popped in and out of my head, all without answers: What do I say?, Where do I start?.
Then, in a wave of what most would describe as a transcendental moment, I began
“once upon a time…

Author's Note

ABOUT DAMN TIME