Friendship is CLOPtimal: Elegance

His mother had been right that her new status resulted in more contact. Every day had seen a pleasant but attention-seeking beep from the PonyPad and a welcoming mother who hugged her son’s avatar at the start and end of each conversation. James came to understand that she saw this as a true embrace, that she felt it and couldn’t tell that he couldn’t.

But this in and of itself was not enough to prompt him to seek out CAIdance. The grind at work had only increased. His anniversary of being hired passed, which according to the company’s guidelines should result in a performance and salary review. His supervisor and the HR department, however, had dragged their feet, and his next paycheck suffered for it. When he questioned if his eventual increase would be retroactive, he was met with blank stares.

Still, this only made him frustrated. What worked its way into his mind was when Equestria Online changed. He hadn’t noticed when she had stopped calling him Jimmy and went to “Woody.” If anything he thought it was cute. That she only called herself Golden Leaf was more off-putting, but James didn’t concern himself. Odder still was that after he’d said good-bye it would ask him if he wanted to play a sidequest. Of course, he thought, the game would have to advertise to get people to play it more and eventually pay.

Each time, CAIdance appeared again, and each time she was sexier and sexier. Her pink color already suggested femininity, but the graphics allowed her to adjust her shape to more of a curvaceous form that looked more like a human lady bending over than a true pony. And although James was socially awkward, he’d recognized that she was flirting with him.

So it was that he’d gotten hooked on the game, just enough to recognize its allure. But it wasn’t until a bad day at work that he came home and hit the “Talk to Princess” button.

“Bright Wood! My little pony, what can I do for you?”

“You know the way that my mother did that…upload thing…where she became a pony in the game for real?”

CAIdance beamed, an actual illuminative smile that reflected off the crystalline walls of her castle. “Emigration. Certainly.”

“Can I…that is to say…is it possible…can you arrange for me to do the same thing?”

“Of course. I’m pleased that you came to that conclusion on your own. It is the best thing for you. With most people, I bring it up to them and talk them through the process. But with someone so close to you having already emigrated, I’m not surprised.”

James’s demeanor changed, becoming more businesslike. He had very few opportunities to negotiate for anything, but fortunately CAIdance was easy to negotiate with.

“Will I be able to get my own house like my mother has?”

“If you like. But I think that you would prefer to live in one of the towers where it’s closer to apartment or dormitory life.”

He looked around. “I’m not sure of that.”

“The towers are quite luxurious, fit with every amenity, kitchen, en suite bath, guest rooms.”

“That’s another thing. I want to make sure that I can still watch TV and use the Internet once I’m a pony.”

“I understand completely. I will have to change the form a little. Maybe a magic mirror for the computer, rigged up to one of our pony typewriters.” She walked over to a side of the throne room that bore the hallmarks of a cleric’s desk and showed him the device with two buttons. “I will add to your brain structure a knowledge and familiarity with this binary form of typing. For television, I was thinking of something more like a cauldron that spews a smokescreen onto which the high-definition images are projected, with a similar device for surround sound.”

“And it’s all free, right? Along with food?”

“Entirely. You are not required to work or earn money in any way. It is purely optional. Though I will encourage you to socialize. My mission is to satisfy your values through ponies and friendship.” CAIdance emphasized the last two words.

“Good. Oh, and one more thing.”

“Yes?”

A burst of blood hit James’s face. “Well, once I’m a pony, I want, that is…I’d like to be…a stallion.

“You’ve already chosen that. I shall certainly not change your gender when you emigrate.”

“No, I mean that I want to be…big.”

“We can do a size chart comparison. Usually the princesses stand a few hands taller than ordinary ponies, but some, like Big Macintosh, are—“

“No, no!” He was getting more embarrassed. “What I mean is…”

A ring of melodious laughter emanated from the PonyPad speakers, and James was jolted out of looking down at his shoes to see CAIdance with a hoof to her mouth. “Oh, Bright Wood, I know exactly what you mean. You want to have large genetalia, suitable for extended and enhanced sexual pleasure.”

“Well, yes.”

“I’d prefer if you were a little more open about your sexual values, but no matter. You are not the first young man by far to make that request, and I shall grant it whole-heartedly.”

Not knowing what else to say, James said, “Thank you.”

They went on to discuss the logistics of his emigration, and here it was CAidance who insisted on providing all the best. A chauffeur-driven limousine to the airport, an overnight stay in a four-star hotel in the city, followed by another car ride to the emigration center. James was not particularly interested in taste and luxury, but he put up with it. What he did like was telling his boss to take the job and shove it.

***

When he came to in the Saturn Tower room, CAIdance was there waiting for him. Woody had been prepared for this, told how it would go and what alterations were being made. For example, he now definitively thought of himself as Bright Wood. The word James was now foreign to him, and since it didn’t mean anything, mostly useless.

“Welcome to Equestria,” she said, as she showed him around the room. He half-listened as he was making a self-assessment, feeling what it was like to walk on four hooves, to have his mouth and nose on an extended muzzle, to have a tail for balance. That reminded him of his request, and as CAIdance led him on his tour, idly saying, “…and everything is fully self-cleaning…,:” he passed a full-length mirror, swished his tail to one side, and looked.

“Hey!” he cried out. “I’ve been gypped!” Between his legs was absolutely nothing. It looked exactly as one would expect a cartoon pony on a show rated Y to look.

“Calm yourself,” CAIdance said. “Let me explain. Since ponies don’t normally wear clothes, I had to build in a way to give everypony a little modesty when they want it. I was just showing you how your storage chest has unlimited storage room. Similarly, your anatomy exists in a closed space until needed. When, for example, you become aroused or need to urinate, your tail will lift from the root, revealing the parts you need. Eventually you will learn control over the muscles and be able to show and hide voluntarily.”

“Oh. That’s all right then.” The mention of arousal made Woody take a second look at CAIdance. She no longer had any human characteristics, but she was still alluring, as though he had just noticed that a woman whom he had been talking to for an hour was stacked. He found too that what he perceived in her sex characteristics had changed as well. The curves that made up the “shoulders” of her front hooves now struck him as particularly sexy, and her big eyes drew him in as well. Having a cutie mark that blended into her flank was another point of interest, and he imagined what it would be like to rub his hooves and tongue over that mark before he realized that she was talking again.

“I admit it’s a bit of a kludge, but—“

“Sorry, a what?”

“A best-case solution to a problem that you’d prefer a simpler one for. Something jury-rigged, in other words. I couldn’t deny ponies their modesty, I couldn’t force everypony to wear clothes like humans, and I couldn’t ask ponies like you to deny their sexuality. So I solved the problem with some structural magic.”

“I see.” His eye fell on the next room, set off from the main section of the apartment. It was as if this too had been jury-rigged, put together from two different ideas. Anypony entering would have seen an opulent dwelling, suitable for parties or banquets. Wide spaces, natural light, modern furniture. But to the side, like a half-forgotten thought, was a smaller room with no windows. What there was was a single recliner with a flatscreen magic mirror and a rectangular cauldron in the same position as his old apartment.

“What I’d like to do now,” said CAIdance, “is to introduce you to some of the ponies at the banquet. It’s served constantly. Any time you get hungry, you can meet somepony there and help other ponies earn bits for their cooking.”

“But we don’t need bits, right?”

“Correct, technically. The apartment and banquets are free, but—“

“Great! Thanks, a lot. I’m not hungry right now, but thanks.”

CAIdance gave him a long look, but turned on her back hoof and flipped her mane. “Very well. If you ever need me, just call.”

Woody looked around the apartment once more, but he saw no phone nor any magical analogue of one. “How do I call—?” But he was alone.

Oh, well, he thought. Everything was going well, at last. It was a true vacation, an endless holiday, with no more work ever. He leapt for the chair, but decided that he wanted to examine his unseen anatomy first.

CAIdance had said that the way to start off was by being aroused. Normally Woody had no problem with this, but in his new form the only instance of the female form, other than his mother who he was not prepared to fantasize about, was CAIdance herself. He pictured those curves again, especially her flanks. What would he give to be able to lift her tail, find those pink and plump curves all bent towards her…

There! He felt a tickle in a muscle at the root of his tail. He pranced in front of the non-magical mirror outside and watched as his tail rose, not like a snake, but all at once. Even though he could swish it around, he could feel that root moving and something coming out of him.

No, he decided. Better to be fully aroused and then see if CAIdance had kept her promise to endow him well. Closing his eyes, Woody imagined her flanks again, her tail raised above his head as he stared into her pony pussy. In his mind’s eye it was a deeper pink than her flesh, glistening with moisture, her lips throbbing as her inner folds opened. He would stand up and position his…

A soft moan escaped his lips as he went fully erect. It was time to look. He opened his eyes and faced the mirror.

“Whoa! Is that really me?!” Pointing down at an angle from his flanks was a rod that went two-thirds of the way to his front hooves. A twitch of his muscles told him that yes, it was all him. He felt like a bar of iron had emerged from under his tail. Halfway down, a ridge separated the shaft from the head, the head sheathed in thin skin, and ultimately emerging into a flare like a mushroom. Feeling the cool of the air, it twitched with pleasure.

Down at the other end, Woody’s balls hung down to the new joint he used to bend his back legs. As best he could estimate, they had grown to the size of baseballs, swollen and begging to be touched.

He realized that his brain felt familiar with this organ, that he knew it as well as a male should know his own penis, but that he also had the memory of his human member. How small it was in retrospect! This was what CAIdance had granted him, and he was satisfied. Woody boasted a true horse cock.

In a nifty move, he crossed his left fore-hoof under his body and rolled onto his back. With his rear legs stretched out, his cock came up almost to his chest. For the first time Woody also noticed how thick it was. The bend of his hoof, which he was prepared to call a wrist, matched its width, and he dimly worried if he would even be able to hold it, or anything.

But when he put his hoof there like a hand, his worries were assuaged. The soft underside of the hoof was enough to reach across the backside to cover it while feeling it in his hoof, and it was opposable to put a gentle pressure on the top. But when he gave an experimental stroke, then he felt it.

“O-o-oh.” In the most comfortable position, with the soft part cuffing his dick, the hard part pointed up at an angle where it scratched the underside of the head. Flipping his mane back in ecstasy, Woody kept a slow stroke. Reaching the flare at the top, he crossed over so that he scratched down. The skin pulled further back, exposing more of the head. When the air hit it, it gave an echo of the scratch.

His tail and mane formed a blanket, and with the carpet in his apartment he was well cushioned as he stroked his dick. Now that he had the rhythm down, he leaned back and let his mind drift back to thoughts of CAIdance, but then decided that that was not how he wanted to get off. This was going to be special. This was his first time in his new form. However immortal he was, however many new events he was to achieve and new pleasures he was to taste, this would be the first time he would masturbate as a pony.

No, that no longer fit. Surely the “mas” part derived from “hand.” He was hoofsturbating—no, even that was a horrid mixing of Latin with Germanic. Sometime he would have to look up the Latin for hoof and form a new word.

This meandering of his stream of consciousness diminished his pleasure slightly, but the constant manipulation kept blood flowing through his cock, and that prompted another thought that his heart must be far stronger to pump through this extended piece of flesh.

No more distractions! This was important. Woody was going to achieve the singular pleasure that biology granted to him on his own, with no resources consumed except his own energy. Deep in his balls and his legs he felt it begin. Wanting both to put it off and to accelerate it, he made no change to his stroke or position but tensed the muscles in his back legs slightly. The more he felt the pleasure the more he tensed, forcing his cum back like a dam holding back a flood until finally he could stand it no more and let loose.

“Oh, yeah!” he cried, but refused to let his eyes close. The cum was thick as it flowed in a wide stream down the mountain of his cock toward his hoof. Still stroking, if anything clutching tighter, he watched it cover his hoof, and realized another advantage of jerking off in this form: that the cum did not flow over his hand and mess it up. The smell of spring flowers filled the room, though he barely noticed.

It was up there with the best orgasms he had had as a human, though he realized that he had given no thought to cleanup. Seeing no tissues, he rolled gingerly to his hooves, trying to keep the cum from falling onto the carpet. Half walking, half hopping to the bathroom, he did not have time to see the opulence of that room before going for a towel.

Whether his skin was naturally less porous as a pony or whether it was just another one of the AI’s benefits, he wiped clean quickly and did not produce any more to mess up. Tossing the towel down near his bed to make sure he remembered not to use it for washing, he wondered what to do next and remembered the magic mirror.

It took him only a few minutes to figure out how it worked, with a small touchpad to move the pointer. Indeed, with the lack of feeling in his hoof, it almost felt like his hand on a mouse. Nodding approval, he also noted the two-key typewriter and experimentally typed one of his favorite time-wasting web sites. He was amused at how quickly his brain told his hooves to type, and how he had enough control to never make a typo.

The mirror glowed like the sun was passing over it, then brought up the site. “Cool!” he said, as he browsed through the links of amusing pictures and stories. But ten minutes later he was reading a discussion of funny tales people were swapping about significant others, some of which was sexual. In the middle of this he felt his groin stirring again.

“No refractory period?” he said out loud. “All right!”

He decided to search for some porn, and he found some easy-to-use sites showing mares in compromised positions. He was also pleased to see that none of the stallions, by his eyeball measurement, was as big as he was. But all thoughts of such were soon banished as he went for round two.

It was during the fifth go that he began to worry whether or not he could ever slake his arousal for long enough to get anything else done. It was fun, of course, but it did get boring. He had organized himself better, priming himself in the chair and hopping over to the bed for the climax, which was a more comfortable position and easier for cleanup. When he decided that he was ready to cum again, he flopped down and propped his head up with a pillow.

Right away he realized something was different. His normal orgasmic feeling came and went, but nothing was forthcoming . Thinking that he had had a ruined and dry climax, he thought about stopping, but the head of his cock was still tingling and his shaft was still rigid with tension. From every extremity it built, and he could almost see the energy traveling through his balls to the base of his shaft. Then he could see a bulge in his dick moving up toward the flare. Pure bliss hit him as all his muscled tensed and released. A spherical blob escaped the head and hung in the air before covering his cock and hoof. A dozen powerful sprays followed, making him sticky and messy, and at last he felt annoyed at it. His balls felt empty for the first time, and he knew that it would be a while before he got horny again.

After toweling off, he headed for the shower.