Many have wondered, how did the euphemism that undeniably refers to unicorns come to be associated with sexual desire? Other than the obvious imagery, there is an answer from history, dear foals. Now I'm sure your mommies and daddies won't appreciate me telling you this, but what would you rather hear, a boring lecture or history you're interested in?
Yeah, I thought so. So sit down and let this old mare spin you a tale.
It starts back around the end of the first century of...well, I think of it as Celestia's Loneliness. A hundred years after she had to banish her own sister, who blessedly has returned and been cured. She bore it well enough, though many ponies offered her companionship. She turned them all down, offering at most only friendship. You, in the back, I know those eyes. Don't worry, having a crush on Celestia was quite common even back then, and this tale's about a mare with such a crush.
Now, one thing to keep in mind, back then was a lot rougher than now. Trains hadn't been invented yet, and some of the cities y'all are from hadn't even been founded. Ponyville was just a large clearing next to the Everfree Forest, and even Canterlot was smaller than today. The lands were a lot wilder; every now and then you'd hear of some large beast coming into town...I know, Ponyville still has those, but I mean every town back then, and more often to boot. Lives were shorter on average, which made them cheaper. A lot more ponies lived for the moment. Some even tried risky longevity treatments to combat the doom and gloom, but most of them just died faster for their troubles, such that few now gamble their lives that way since we've got so much more to live for. Further, the tribes were still learning to live together in harmony, more than a century after banding together to defeat Discord. Celestia had long since made magical slavery illegal, but at this time she was still working to convince everypony that it was fundamentally wrong, not just her own whim as princess.
I'm telling you this because the mare of this story was a harlot, and back then that wasn't such a bad thing. She was a little famous, bringing her brand of comfort throughout Equestria, though she favored Canterlot. She was a unicorn like me, with a talent for pleasuring without touching, which made her quite popular in certain noble circles. What none knew until well after she retired was that she collected secrets breathed only in bed, traveling to monitor all Equestria and reporting any troubles to the palace when she could excuse a visit. She also had a rather peculiar preference: unicorn horns. She just loved feeling another unicorn's magic welling up within her most sensitive spots. This earned her a nickname, The Horny One, and her tales over the years gave rise to that word's use. But it might not have survived this long had she not become infamous for one particular incident, cementing the word's use.
See, she liked horns, but there was one she desired inside her most of all. She knew Celestia took no such companionship, so she kept her fantasies to writing. That would have been well and good, had one of the royal guard not surreptitiously made copies of her diary. Then as now, the Canterlot nobles needed something to gossip about, and this became the scandal of the season. She tried to take it in good humor, not denying it but not fanning the flames, until it got so bad Celestia had to do something about it.
So Celestia summoned her to court. Back then, her throne room wasn't as grand as it is now. Maybe ten ponylengths front to back, five left to right, and three floor to ceiling, with tile lined floor, banners on the sides at regular intervals, and a single red carpet leading from the door to the single throne. It was enough of a hall for the chief gossips to line up along the sides while giving Celestia a clear line of sight to the mare she was supposedly talking to, but I tell you she was talking to the gossips in truth. She knew how the harlot had been harassed and hounded for sport, and she would have none of it.
Pray you never see her the least bit angry. If you're morbidly curious, one of the artists in attendance did a good impression: look up "Celestia and the Harlot" in the archives. The artist even captured her briefly looking to the side before she caught herself; there was usually a royal adviser there, more to make it look like she was going to ask somepony than to actually be asked for advice, but not that time. I don't think she fully stopped doing that until her third century alone; that's how hard banishing her sister hit her.
Anyway. Once the harlot was announced and the audience had quieted enough to let her speak, Celestia asked, "I hear you wish to fuck my horn."
Yes, Celestia said "fuck". As I said, it was a rougher time. Get the giggles out of your system.
All done? So the harlot squeaked, "Yes," having tried to downplay it and slightly embarrassed to have her secret aired in front of everypony but not about to lie to her princess.
Celestia waved, and an assistant brought out a transparent gelatin mannequin that was a good likeness of the harlot. "There are two problems," Celestia said, then levitated the mannequin on top of her horn and slid it right inside, putting the mannequin in the very position the harlot had dreamed of being in many a night. She continued, "As you can see, my horn would pierce much deeper than your vagina. I've seen some of your writings; you are correct that this would be fatal on its own. But you wouldn't live long enough to bleed out."
It was about then that the harlot noticed Celestia's horn had started glowing brighter the moment it had been sheathed. Now it surged, and the mannequin exploded all over the hall. They say the harlot got a bit of the mannequin's privates on her face.
Celestia sighed. "It doesn't like being contained. This is going to be messy enough to clean up. I'd rather not task the maids with getting blood off the walls, when Equestria could instead benefit from the continued services of one more loyal, and I hear quite talented, pony. Don't you agree?"
The harlot planted her flank on the ground and nodded vigorously. I hear her eyes were wide as saucers.
Celestia, bless her, finally smiled as her eyes surveyed the audience, taking their stunned silence as confirmation that her real message had been delivered. "You may go."
The harlot scooted out of that hall, rear end clenched to the floor, and did not pick up her haunches until the doors had closed. They say she abstained from penetrative sex of any kind for months, and it was two years before she could so much as touch another unicorn's horn without shivering in fear. But the incident never completely faded from history; after all, here I am telling it to you. And so her nickname became associated with yearning for sex, maybe against one's own best interests.
What's that? You think I was the matron, one of the lucky few who survived the longevity treatments so I'd now be over 900 years old? You have a good imagination; nurture it and it will serve you well. Now run along. Luna will be up soon, and I need to ask her about containment.
