Princess Luna stood vigil upon her tower, her horn wreathed in magic, projecting herself to stalwartly patrol the dream-realm; as such was her destiny and duty.

Within and outside the Dream she smiled at the bubble of Rarity's subconsciousness. "It's good to see you are unharmed, sweet Rarity; though I apologize for I cannot help you with matters such as modern economics."

Within the sphere Rarity's mind buzzed with questions and worries, her dream-self wore a green visor while crunching numbers on an accounting calculator. Her magic occasionally pulled at the handle, making it belt out an attentive ding and a streaming flurry of paper.

"Okay. We've got 17.5% in T-bills amortized over the fiscal year. 8% in stocks and bonds. Carry the nine, divide by the gross national product. Fortunately, wedding bouquets are deductible!" She explained excitedly.

Luna watched within the room Rarity was working, not letting the mare be aware of her presence unless she wanted her to notice.

"I think, I've got it!" Rarity shouted, bringing the numbers to a boss-like character sitting in an oversize chair which blocked anyone's view, before turning and revealing who it was.

Luna nearly blew a raspberry-laugh at what she saw.

In the oversize chair sat a vastly oversize version of Rarity's cat, Opalescence, in a serious business suit; with an Anthropomorphic build much like the Abyssinians in the far east. And in the boss' lap, sat a tiny version of Rarity herself, only she was licking and purring like an actual cat.

"Meow." Opal said neutrally.

"But, I've got it all figured out, it's foolproof." Rarity explained.

"Meow."

"No, I didn't mean it like that!" Rarity said in alarm.

Opal stood up with cat-Rarity scampering away before sitting and grooming herself. Opal faced away from Rarity, staring dramatically out the window. "Meow."

"No y-you can't." Rarity stammered.

Opal turned back and growled. "Meow."

Rarity fell to her knees, crying out dramatically. "Noooooo!"

Luna stood there awkwardly witnessing the exchange, unsure of what to make of it.

Whatever Opal said was something only Rarity would know, and Luna was in no mood to dive into a deeper level of a pony's subconscious just to find out.

So for the time being, she soothed Rarity's stress, granting her a peaceful sleep. With a little magic, Luna crafted a more relaxing setting, placing Rarity on a picnic blanket, enjoying the company of friends.

"There now, dear Rarity, leave the stresses of the day behind, for the night is the time for the mind to rest." Luna smiled proudly at her work before leaving to help the next pony in their dreams. The Night Princess could traverse dreams in any way she felt. Sometimes it was a hallway full of doors into other pony's dreams, and other times it was a void filled with orbs for every dreaming pony under her care.

Funny enough, dreams tended to arrange themselves by proximity to other ponies. In this case, Sweetie Belle was closest.

"Oh dear, little one, what's troubles your mind this time," Luna said under her breath as she looked upon the filly's dreamscape.

Sweetie Belle was shackled to a sacrificial alter while wearing a pretty dress. Dozens of same-looking tribal stallions danced around her, cheered, and beat on drums to summon their god-monster.

The filly struggled against her bindings, screaming for help; while Rarity--dressed in shamans garbs--offering her little sibling as a sacrifice.

"Oh sister, why do all these dreams have to be so over-the-top?" Luna sighed while shaking her head at the dramatic ritual.

A 200-foot tall Spike appeared from the jungle and roared in a showy display; but instead of taking Sweetie Belle, the Spike-zilla passed her up and worshiped the Rarity-shaman.

"Hey, you're supposed to take me, not her!" Sweetie shouted indignantly.

The Spike-zilla kissed the shaman-sister's hooves, worshiping the very ground she walked upon. The tribes-stallions did the same, bowing before their goddess and ignoring the younger, nubile teen still splayed out on the sacrificial alter, looking bored.

Being forced to witness her older sibling be so favored was more torturous than any fate Sweetie could've face with Spike-zilla

Luna chuckled. "Your time will come, little one, but for now; how about a loyal army of your own," she stomped her hoof. "That new pop-idol colt should do well, all the teen filly's tend to swoon at young sir Feather Bangs."

An army of Feather Bangs rushed to rescue Sweetie Belle.

"I would-"

"I would die-

"I would die for Sweetie Belle," said the entire army, and repeated every Feather Bangs as they helped Sweetie Belle down from the alter, then body surfed her away.

Sweetie Belle in the waking world swooned in her sleep. A dreamy smile spread across her lips.

Luna nodded at her work and moved on to the next recipient in need of her help, while she--in the waking world--sighed in content.

The next dream-bubble caused her to pause.

Most nightmares tended to be dark and turbulent, like swirling storm clouds. But this next one was more like a kaleidoscope.

Nightmares and memories melded and intertwined with each other. One becoming the other, and the other to one; with neither able to become whole.

"What a mess," Luna clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "Looks like we're going deeper," she frowned reluctantly. "Let's see what the root of all this turmoil is."

Luna dove into the kaleidoscope of emotions and appeared in a room with two bipedal beings.

"What manner of creatures are these!?" Luna blurted in shock, forgetting herself and almost revealing her presence to the dreamer. Seeing him pause and look in her direction.

"This... isn't a pony's dream?" She questioned in confusion. The dreamer's memory played out as normal, and Luna felt relieved for not destabilizing the memory.

Doing so would've been disastrous to the dreamer.

The ponies of Equestria may willingly give Celestia their loving devotion of body and soul, but their minds were as much Luna's domain as the night and moon itself. The loyalty and loving bond of her people Celestia built over a millennia, Luna could dismantle overnight if she wanted. An idea planted here, a few nightmares manipulated to her favor there, and Equestria would fall. Even the Tantabus--a mere parasite of her creation--would've been enough, had she not the help of others to stop it.

Such was the great power and responsibility she held.

The two beings were as distinct from each other as a stallion was from a mare. The male was clearly irritated, packing things away in a backpack, while the female stood in the doorway looking haughty.

"You can't leave, you've got responsibilities to take care of; like all the legal work that still needs to be done," the female said. "Mom and Dad left you the house, and you've got no job, so how are you planning on paying the bills?"

"I'll take care of everything when I get back, Sis," Atchmon hissed, packing things more aggressively.

"And how are you going to do that, exactly? Our parents didn't have much money saved; which they also left you," She hissed back.

"So, I'll get a job; what else do you want from me?" he exasperated.

"I want you to go out and find one instead of running off and hiding out around the camping grounds." She said snidely. "Why aren't you taking this seriously?"

"Prolly 'cause it's the weekend and no one is going to be accepting applications, maybe its because I didn't go to college, so no one will hire me without 5 years of dish-washing experience," Atchmon said sarcastically.

"You always do this; whenever things get hard, you run off and hide until it's too late; mom isn't here pushing you to succeed and giving you a hand-outs anymore, and dad-"

"Dad let himself die; he just gave up and died!" Atchmon snapped. "And you're jealous they didn't leave you anything but the land," he spat.

"No, I love you and I'm worried about you," She stepped forward in concern. "I've talked to Bobby, and we're both willing to buy you out for the house; you can stay with us until you get on your feet."

Luna could hear a high pitched noise as Atchmon's anger tried to block the memory of his sister's offer. He grit his teeth as she explained paying rent and splitting utilities.

"Yeah so you can put me out on the streets," he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "I remember you always saying I was mom and dad's favorite; it isn't my fault they wanted me more than you!" His words dripped with venom.

"No!" She sighed in frustration.

But Luna could see she was cut deep with that comment.

There was a tense pause as the 'little' brother finished packing his things, slinging a compound bow and arrows over his shoulders.

"You didn't cry at mom or dad's funeral; aren't you sad they're gone?" The sister asked.

Atchmon scoffed angrily at the indignant accusation.

"Or are you happy with being a slobby loser all your life?" She argued.

"Shut up! Just shut up!" He snapped, and tried to storm out the room, but his sister blocked him.

"No, wait, I'm sorry!" She begged.

"Get out of my way!" He roared.

"No!" She screamed back. "You're not going!"

Atchmon went for the door, but his sister kept it closed with her body. He tried to open it, letting the door push her aside, but she managed to stay rooted. Then he pulled her way by the shoulder, and she half-slapped and half-clawed him with her nails.

Atchmon looked shocked at first, then grew angry.

She tried to stop him, but she was so much smaller than he was. "Atch, don't!" She screamed.

Using his strength, Atchmon grabbed her bodily and threw her out of his way and onto the bed before crossing the threshold.

Luna closed her eyes as the room melted and changed to the perspective of a living room.

"I'm calling the Police!" The sister shouted in threat from the hallway, while Atchmon stormed towards the front door. "They'll throw you in jail!" She half screamed.

Angry tears fell from Atchmon's cheeks, as he stopped before the doorway. "Go ahead, I don't care!" He roared back, then exited the door. Leaving his older sister crying on his bed.

The siblings fight reminded Luna of herself and Celestia. She could only imagine the pain and heartache she caused her dear sister; forcing Celestia to use the Elements on her in order to stop Nightmare from bringing about the Eternal Night.

The dream shifted, and Luna found herself in Ponyville. The dreamer, Atchmon, was naked and wearing a fake rubber horse mask. The human was bound in rope, while a stallion wearing an ascot pulled the rubber mask off.

"You see, gang, he was a fake the whole time," the ascot-wearing stallion revealed.

"Jinkies!" Exclaimed a mare adjusting her glasses and wearing an orange turtleneck sweater.

"Zoinks!" Said a bum-looking stallion.

"Rut-roh!" Said a spotted Great Dane diamond dog.

"Jeepers!" Exclaimed a red-maned, purple dressed mare.

The angry towns ponies chased the man out of the village with torches and pitchforks.

As Atchmon ran, he transformed into a pony stallion; a gigantic Tree of Harmony followed him, its terrifying presence looming over the horizon.

Luna watched in awe, vaguely understanding what's happening.

Interpreting dreams were a large part of her talent. It was a skill she honed over the centuries, even after a millennia of absence, it wasn't difficult for Luna to understand the often abstract ways the mind chose to express its emotions. Her sister, Celestia, could never appreciate such subtle craft.

The transformed stallion was suddenly strapped to an operating table, while Human scientists dissected him as he watched in gaunt horror; their faces covered with medical masks and round head-mirrors.

Luna--and the stallion on the table--gazed across the dark void of the nightmare, seeing a Human also being dissected on a table, but by pony scientists with the same garbs.

"Oh my little... thing," Luna looked sad for him. "You've been through so much," she tutted. "So much anger, fear, confusion, and guilt especially; all twisted up inside." Using her magic, she moved on to the next twisted emotion.

Luna watched as the human sat curled up in a tiny cave as seasons rapidly passed by, while he changed positions with them; each new position looking more pathetic than the last.

"So lonely, with not a friend in the world," Luna felt sympathetic, having spent a thousand years alone on the moon.

"Liar, I trusted you!" A mare's voice echoed from deep within his subconscious.

Atchmon in the waking world winced, and turned in his sleep.

Luna used her magic. "Surely there's a little- Ah, there we are... Oh my, Miss Rarity," She gasped scandalously. "Well, there's no question you're still full of love my dear... stallion, and with-ahem-plenty to give," Luna grinned deviously at her joke, seeing the two entwined in the embrace of lovers.

"This is why I enjoy helping children's dreams the most." She sighed.

There was no accounting of how often she came across a stallion or mare in coitus. Especially with either herself or Celestia, or Creator forbid both of them in bed within an adult's fantasy, or day-dream.

Luna blushed and used her magic, moving on with her mission to soothe the stallion's turmoil.

"There's some happiness," Luna nodded, seeing all the good memories of them together. "That's it, let's focus on the positive," she flared her horn's magic, bringing all those positive emotions to the forefront of the stallion's subconscious.

Rarity's family and friend's smiling faces and welcoming hooves opened up to him.

In the waking world, Atchmon smiled serenely, his body relaxed as he was welcomed into the herd.

"There now, sleep well, dear stallion," Luna smiled at her work, seeing the dreamer surrounded by loving friends.

Atchmon looked up from the crowd of ponies, seeing Princess Luna standing to the side--allowing herself to be seen--and watched her nod knowingly to him, before disappearing from the dream.

In the waking world, Princess Luna opened her eyes to the coming dawn. "There, when you do things right, ponies can't be sure if you did anything at all." She smirked and began lowering the moon just as Celestia came to raise the sun.

Atchmon awoke to the sound of Rarity's fretting.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear this simply won't do!" She trotted back and forth collecting fabrics and sewing supplies, while also reviewing expense reports and other business papers in her magic. Her red designer glasses were askew sitting upon her snout, and her purple mane was done up in a business-like bun with a few loose hairs sticking out in places, making her look frazzled.

"Rare, everythin' alright?" Atchmon groaned, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

Rarity didn't lose her stride as she spoke while multitasking a dozen things at once. "Oh, darling I am so sorry for disturbing your slumber. Please pay no attention to me, but if you're hungry Sweetie Belle is making breakfast, please help yourself, and don't worry about waiting on me." She called behind as she trotted up the stairs to her work studio.

Atchmon sat up while brushing off the covers, only to quickly cover himself right after. The morning brought a familiar stiffness in his member. He looked around making sure no one saw his shame. He sighed in relief as he felt it begin to wilt, and soon retreat back into his sheath.

If it were just him and Rarity back in his cave, it wouldn't have been an issue. His pants would've covered him. And she never raised an issue the few times he popped a stiffy in front of her while they bathed. A couple of those times he purposely exposed himself just to 'test the waters'.

It was only natural as a curious and bored human being, that he'd want to 'poke' and 'prod' the mare to see her reaction.

Strictly in the 'scientific' sense.

The presence of his member made him question if 'hanging loose' was normal in a naked pony society. He wasn't shy about being naked in front of Rarity. Because to him, she was just a little animal. They all were.

He assumed it was okay--since no one but Rarity raised an issue about his 'indecency' at the party last night--but he wasn't about to push his luck and expose himself in front of Rarity's little sister.

That would just be wrong, and creepy.

He got up and followed his nose wherever the delicious smell in the air was taking him.

Sweetie Belle was busy in the kitchen. The smell of eggs and pancakes wafted from the doorway as he entered.

The young mare stood in front of the stove, and turned with a frying pan in her mint green magic. "Ahh!" She screamed in fearful surprise at the sight of the large stallion standing in the doorway; completely covering the entrance with his mass.

Sweetie Belle's magic imploded during her jump-scare, causing the frying pan to fall against the kitchen floor in a clatter of metal and buttery egg-whites.

Atchmon flinched at her yelp of surprise. 'Figures... she's scared of me. I must be every bit of a big, scary, ugly horse as I ever was before.' Atchmon thought lowly, remembering all the times his own family jumped at the unexpected sight of him.

The creepy tug of social anxiety crawled up the back of his neck, forcing him to tuck in his shoulders and lower his head, making himself look smaller for her sake.

"Is everything alright down there?" Rarity's voice called from upstairs.

Sweetie Belle swallowed her nervousness while staring fearfully at the stallion.

"Mornin'," Atchmon greeted sheepishly, keeping his head lowered.

"Sweetie?" Rarity's voice called again.

"E-everything's fine!" Sweetie Belle called back, then turned away from Atchmon while levitating the frying pan and eggs off the ground; instantaneously cleaning up the mess and discarding the ruined breakfast into the garbage.

Atchmon stared in amazement as she even floated the runny yellow egg-yolk from the ground too.

"'Scuse me, dear," Rarity said from behind him, shocking Atchmon out of his stupor. He trotted into the kitchen and shifted his rump out of the way for her to pass.

"Have a seat, darling, breakfast will be ready shortly," Rarity tittered.

Sweetie Belle cast glances at the stallion as he seated himself on the chair in not quite the way a pony should be seating themselves. He had a bit of trouble getting comfortable, all due to not sitting properly like a pony.

He gazed around the kitchen cabinets and counters, the walls were adorned with cookware and utensils.

Atchmon took in the stark normalcy of it all, then placed his hoof on the table as if making sure it was real. It was odd having two living things so close to him inside the homely kitchen.

There were times in the wilderness his imagination ran wild, trying to compensate for the lack interaction and the overbearing isolation. Times when he thought himself back home, those daydreams were sometimes so lucid; which only made it all the more disappointing when he'd come back to reality.

Now everything was flipped on its head.

Everything around him was reality, but he feared waking from a dream.

He watched the two mares cooking, trying to grasp the surreality of it all.

He couldn't help comparing the two. The filly, Sweetie Belle, was like a smaller version of Rarity, if Rarity weren't so green at the moment; her coat taking on a sickly tone. The older sister was more filled out, despite the recent weight loss; but Sweetie had a more pert teenager rump that would've had him drooling, if he weren't so much older than her; and not the younger sister of his one and only friend-slash-lover-girlfriend... person.

He looked away with a blush as the sisters raised and swished their tails while working, it was only a quick flash; but Atchmon saw enough to make a comparison. Rarity was a stark contrast to her little sister. She was dark while Sweetie was a pale-fleshy pink underneath.

Something told Atchmon that Sweetie was the superior sibling, yet her obvious youth prevented him from looking further than that.

He waited at the table, doing his best not to stare while the two mares hips swayed and tails flicked and swished as they talked lowly, making small talk...

"So?" Rarity whispered, and prodded her younger sister. "What do you think?" She asked quietly so Atchmon wouldn't hear.

"About what?" Sweetie asked with a hint of knowing where this conversation was going.

"Having a stallion living in the house."

"I guess it's... different?" she offered.

Rarity sighed while nodding. "It is, isn't it? It feels like there's a strange new energy around here, doesn't it?" She said wistfully.

The two sisters helped set the table and finished making breakfast for the three of them.

Atchmon gazed at the delectable spread. His mouth salivated at the glistening sight of over-medium eggs, the golden brown-ness of pancakes and hash-browns , along with the glinting shine of maple syrup. Sunlight hit the amber liquid just right, giving it a starry glint, as he watched it fall atop his portion of flapjacks.

Rarity was grinning eagerly from ear to ear as she fixed his plate for him. Then poured him a glass of orange juice from a carafe, and fixed him a bendy straw.

Sweetie looked indignant, trying to ignore the feasting beast of a stallion as he half-dove into his meal, eating partially off the plate lIke an animal, while holding his fork wrong by pinching it with his wrists.

It wasn't like her best friends didn't eat like that. Only Unicorns possessed magic which enabled them to eat with utensils. It was only polite to allow Earth ponies like Atchmon to eat however they pleased.

No, it was the fact he was eating like it would be his last meal forever.

"Slow down, darling, you're not going to go hungry anymore," Rarity tittered. "Not under my roof."

"Sorry," Atchmon gasped hungrily before washing it all down with milk, it was the perfect complement to the sweet syrupy goodness, especially after they hit that critical point of absorption which turns the pancakes into delicious paste.

He played with his utensils trying to figure out how best to use them with his new hooves.

Sweetie Belle lost her appetite and glanced between the two while poking at her food.

"That quite alright, dear; please eat your fill," Rarity insisted while placing more food on his plate. "Did you sleep well, Atchmon?"

He slurped up some of the egg that was trying to make an escape from his fork. "Pretty good; how 'bout ya'll?" He gasped hungrily, before accidentally dropping his fork, watching it clatter messily to the floor.

Rarity levitated and dropped it into the sink, then brought him another one from the drawer. "Oh it's quite alright, I should be the one to apologize, I don't really keep any Earth Pony utensils here."

"Think I'm gettin' the hang of it," he said thoughtfully while concentrating on not dropping it again; but was mostly shovelling his food to the edge of the plate before suckling it up.

The trio ate in silence a moment.

"Sweetie, is everything alright; did you not sleep well?" Rarity asked in concern.

Sweetie was caught in deep thought and almost missed the question. "Oh yeah, I slept good." She answered nonchalantly.

"Wonderful, now I hope you both don't mind, but I'll need to excuse myself and get ready to go into town." Rarity dabbed the napkin on her mouth before getting up from the table. "There's letters to send, bank accounts to balance, bills to be paid, and fabrics to purchase!" She declared as she left the kitchen. "Oh I hope I don't need to take out a loan." Her worried voice carried through the doorway.

Sweetie Belle and Atchmon sat silently together.

Atchmon wasn't shy about finishing his meal, while Sweetie barely touched hers.

"Ain't you gonna eat?" He asked in concern, noticing Sweetie's discomfort.

"'M not hungry." She mumbled.

Atchmon chewed his lip while looking around, trying to think of a way to make right whatever wrong he committed against the filly.

"Guess it's pretty weird havin' a guy like me hangin' around, huh?" He chuckled nervously. Then rubbed his neck after seeing Rarity's little sister clam-up even more.

"The eggs sure were tasty, you're a good cooker!" He complimented.

She tightened her lips.

Atchmon gave up and sighed. "Listen, if I'm being a pain, just let me kn-" he started to say, before being interrupted.

"You are," Sweetie snapped at him, her eyes going from pensive, straight to dark, angry circles.

"Wha-?" Atchmon stuttered not expecting so much ire to radiate from the filly. It was plain on her face. The social pressure pressed against his chest, making him want to leave and avoid the confrontation. But some other force of will kept him planted in his seat.

"I know your type, you do one nice thing for my sister, and suddenly she owes you the world; is that it?" She spat at him.

The words hurt, but Atchmon studied the little filly warily. She wasn't the sweet little pony Rarity always described her to be, and was clearly angry with him. But Atchmon knew he didn't do anything wrong, at least not recently. He tried to implement what Rarity taught him about placing himself in another's "pony shoes".

"You're right, after what I've been through, I do feel like I deserve a lot of things," Atchmon sighed. "And I know I'm not a good guy, and Rarity deserves a lot better."

Sweetie Belle was disarmed as she listened to his confessions. No stallion ever admitted such self-depreciating things. They all felt like Rarity deserved them, like they were doing her the favor by just considering to court her.

"You really know how to sell yourself," she said sarcastically.

Atchmon scoffed a laugh. "Yeah, but she's all I got," he shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I don't appreciate everything that she's done for me... that she's still doing for me." He emphasized.

Sweetie's hard look softened as the stallion's features turned melancholy. Why was she acting like this? It wasn't his fault for being stuck here, he was just following his curiosity; if his story is to be believed. And Sweetie couldn't think of any reason why it shouldn't. Even Princess Twilight vouched for him.

Atchmon continued. "So I'm sorry for butting into your life, I know if it was my sister and she brought home some guy... well, I wouldn't've cared, but I'd prolly be mad too if she didn't tell me, at least."

Sweetie Belle nodded along, listening to his every word. She was kinda upset about the turn of events. And more the fact her sister had no way to warn her, which was illogical on Sweetie's part. But that was no excuse for being unpleasant.

She was the sister of the Element of Generosity. Sweetie felt she had to be a little generous herself, at least.

She was practically at that age herself, wondering about boys more frequently; but she never thought about what Rarity or her parents might think if she liked somepony. Or how they would react.

Maybe she was just too used to Rarity being single that Sweetie never thought about how a relationship would affect their sisterhood.

Sweetie still had sibling authority over him. And was sure if she didn't like him, Rarity would listen to her and dump the stallion in a heartbeat.

But she had to at least give him a chance, he was being a nice guy despite everything being new to him. And to top it all off, he wasn't even- himself, if that last part of the story were really true.

Sweetie couldn't imagine not being a pony anymore.

She drooped her ears, and apologized. "I'm sorry for being a mean brat around you... I just imagined everything going differently when my sister came back home." She sighed.

"It's okay, I'm honestly surprised all ya'll took to me as quick as ya did, considerin' what I was before," he huffed a laugh. "I'm not tryin' t' steal her away from ya, if that's what your worried about." He reassured her.

Sweetie Belle sighed sadly. "I know... its just that, I can't help but feel like since she's had you around; she never really missed me."

Atchmon balked at that and leaned forward in support. "Listen Sweetie it- is it okay if I call you Sweetie?" He asked sheepishly, getting a few nods from the filly. "There wasn't a day gone by that Rarity didn't talk about you... It was kind've annoying." He chuckled.

Sweetie giggled at that bit, making her relax and not feel so bad.

He continued. "But it was very sweet. All she wanted was to see you again, and to be by your side when you needed her. Heck, I feel like I know you like you were my own lil' sister. So I know you must feel like you're bein' left on the back burner, but jus' know your sister loves you with all her heart. An' right now, I guarantee you, there's nothin' she would rather be doin' than spendin' time with you. But she's got responsibilities that she needs to get to first, and I think it's our job to help her out as best we can, so she can get back to doin' what she really wants to do; don't you think?"

Sweetie Belle stared at her plate in thought, before a smile spread across her cheeks. "I do... thank you, Atchmon. I forget Rarity does want to spend time with me, but just can't sometimes." She fidgeted sheepishly in her seat.

"And the way I see it, Rarity doesn't owe me anything," 'Even though I don't feel comfortable leaving her side.' But Atchmon wasn't about to tell her or anyone else that. "But if I get to be too much of a problem, I can jus' go live outside, I guess. You're not usin' your bedsheets are ya? I'm gonna need something to pitch a tent."

"What? No, I'm still using those!" She giggled.

Atchmon felt the tension loosen between them after that, and relaxed himself.

Rarity was eavesdropping just outside the kitchen door, having heard the entire exchange. It was an impolite thing to do, but she had to know how they'd act around each other when she wasn't there to keep the peace.

More than a couple times she wanted to pop out and give the two a piece of her mind.

Instead, she smiled gladly, knowing Sweetie took to him so well, and Atchmon managed to conduct himself like a gentlestallion.

Sweetie just needed to grow out of her 'bratty-sister' stage. But she also didn't like that Atchmon saw himself so unworthy of her trust and friendship; but Rarity could understand why.

He truly regrets what he did.

She slunk away using her tippy-hooves before landing with the rest of her hoof, just like Atchmon taught her how to sneak, and soundlessly made it up the stairs without disturbing her two guests.

Sweetie regained her appetite and took a few bites of her breakfast.

"Sho what are your intentionsh with my big sister?" Sweetie Belle asked with her mouth partially full.

Atchmon was caught off guard by the question, and nearly choked on his orange juice. "Intentions? What intentions? I- I don't have any intentions! Who said anything about intentions?" He said quickly, while avoiding her gaze.

Sweetie tittered. "You like her, I can tell, and she likes you too; I haven't seen her like this in, well, ever," she exhausted. "It's not the goofy love-struck look she gives other stallions she's interested in. It's something more... genuine."

"Yeah well, I think that ship has sailed... I messed things up pretty bad with her right before we got rescued." He said pensively.

"What happened?" she asked.

Atchmon pressed his lips together, unsure of how much to reveal, but also not wanting to lie. "I lied to her."

Sweetie knitted her brows. "About what?"

"It doesn't matter... The point is, I lied; I want to make it up to her, but I just don't know how I'm gonna do it," he sighed, shaking his head in defeat.

Sweetie Belle gave the stallion a stern, considering look. "Maybe I can help you with that," she said.

Atchmon looked at her expectantly.

"The first thing I think you should do, is find your special talent," she gestured at his side.

Atchmon scoffed a laugh, following her gaze to his bare flank. "And how do I do that?" He asked skeptically.

Sweetie smirked confidently. "My friends and I can help you get your Cutie Mark, we're kinda like experts on that sort of thing," she finished with an air of dignity while inspecting and polishing her hoof on her coat.

Atchmon considered her offer.

It wasn't likely that he'd get a Cutie Mark of his own. He wasn't born a pony. Plus, humans don't have magic, and he never had one before so it was no great loss to him... but at the same time his bareness would always be a reminder that he didn't 'belong' with the ponies. Even if they accepted him, he would never truly 'be' one of them.

He felt like a wolf in sheep's clothing.

An imposter.

A liar.

And that was the question, wasn't it?

Did he want to be a pony through-and-through?

'Nope.'

Well, actually, his feelings were more complicated than that.

What he wanted was companionship, a sense of purpose, and belonging.

He had plans, or more accurately a vague idea of a plan:

Make a book, get rich, get Rarity back, and live happily ever after.

The end.

There were certain 'perks' to being a pony, he had yet to explore. And at the moment he was kinda just rolling with it all, taking everything as it comes; as was his way in life.

Curiosity was his vice and driving force. He wanted to see what this world had to offer, and to see if gaining his Mark was possible, and from that would come potential, and that could lead him to a prosperous future.

But on the flip-side of that coin, it meant there was no going back to where he came from. No more Earth, no more American burgers, steaks, chili-dogs... sister.

Now that he thought about it, home didn't sound all that appealing anymore...

What did it say about him that he could abandon everything so easily?

He was a man that didn't belong.

Though, there really wasn't anything to go back to other than a shanty house, an overbearing sibling, and crippling debt.

Sweetie Belle watched the stallion come out of his thousand-yard stare after a few seconds of silence.

"You would really help me do that?" He questioned.

Sweetie gave him a reassuring smile and nod.

"Alright... sure, why not?" He shrugged.

"I have classes for most of the day, but me and the girls will get together and come get you this afternoon when we're all free." Sweetie stood up and brought all the dirty dishes to the sink with her mint-green magic. "Rarity always said I should be a gracious host whenever we have guests over, and it looks like you're gonna be staying awhile," she trailed in thought. "So is there anything I can do to help make you more comfortable?"

Atchmon thought a moment, while feeling a pressure in his loins from a belated morning ritual. "Can you tell me where the bathroom is?" he blushed in embarrassment. "You have those here, right? I remember Rarity saying something about it."

Sweetie scoffed a laugh at the unexpected question. "Yes, we have a bathroom, and a toilet with plumbing and running water to take our waste far away from here," she snarked. "It's upstairs, middle of the hallway on the right."

"Thanks, 'scuse me," Atchmon left the table to find the porcelain throne. Or whatever the ponies had that passed for a toilet around here.

Atchmon stared at the bowl-like contraption before him, feeling lost.

Some features of it were familiar.

There was a reservoir made of brass, and a pull-string that had to be the 'flusher'. And there was a pole-hook looking thing that must help keep a pony's tail out of the way, but he couldn't get it to adjust very much or swing around.

He tried a few positions. Rearing up wasn't possible without anything to hold onto, and lifting his leg like a dog wasn't going to work either, since his penis drooped downward and away from the bowl.

He swung a hind leg around and backed up before sitting on the bowl the way he was used to.

Rarity entered through the bathroom door to the awkwardly wide-eyes of Atchmon sitting on her toilet. "Whoopsie, sorry, darling, the door was open; be sure you lock it next time if you want some privacy," she tittered while covering her eyes, before quickly exiting to give him some privacy. "Are you going to be long, deary?"

"Uh, no." he called back.

"Oh Atchie, darling," Rarity said through the crack in the doorway. "You're sitting on it backwards, dear, you see that flat top gives you a little table that you can work on while you do your--ahem--'business'," she advised. "Oh and if you happen to have any laundry just throw them through the 'laundry hole'.

Atchmon looked back at the brass reservoir. "I knew that." He said nonchalantly.

He corrected his position, which felt 'right' when he sat down. His bladder was about to burst, but he held off until his penis dropped from his sheath. There was a distinct 'loosening' of muscles that stretched as his maleness was exposed. He gained some control over those sensations, and managed to expedite the process. Then Atchmon stood up, straddling the bowl when a cold, wetness drenched his tip.

"Ah c'mon," he complained. Then laughed that he was mad about getting his dick 'wet', and from how it happened.

He shook his head at his own dumb joke, and let loose.

*Pssssssssss*

He looked down and saw a stream of urine bigger around than he was used to. It's loudness surprised him. He shifted, trying to lessen the embarrassing volume as it fell into the water.

The pressure in his groin abated as he went...

And went...

And went...

And went... to the point he started to feel concerned for his health.

"This has gotta be some kinda record," he muttered in amazement under his breath, before his stream slowed to a trickle, before finally dying out.

He shook his rump, getting the last few stray drops to land in the bowl, while his penis retreated floppily back into his sheath.

"You're gonna listen to me one o' these days," he said to his penis, then tugged on the pulley-string and watched as his waste swirled down the drain with a satisfying flush.

He went to the sink and turned on the hot water tap before touching the steamy liquid with a hoof, feeling the heat radiate through the hoof and to his nerves. "Oh thank you, Jesus," he praised while washing his hooves with some lavender-smelling soap.

He chuckled after wiping off the moisture, noticing that it didn't matter, since his hooves were going to be on the ground. But he figured it would just be polite and respectful of Rarity's home to be a little hygienic.

Atchmon looked at himself in the tri-fold vanity mirror, gazing at his stallion face as he turned it back and forth; noticing the smaller details of his new body. His mane and tail were dark brown, almost black, the same with his hind legs up to his knees. He found no flaw on his copper hide. The excessive amount of hair (Or was it fur?) around his body wasn't much different. He was a pretty hairy guy anyway, except now he was a lot less drafty; save for his hairless nether regions.

He stared at his horse face with his big horse nostrils.

Was this a face a pony could love?

Atchmon snorted irritably.

He checked his back in disappointment, seeing that his Angel-wing tattoo was missing.

The symbol of his late parents, and their memory, was gone; along with all his many scars which were also erased from his body, as if he never lived a life of hardship at all.

"You still with me?" He asked the mirror, not really looking at himself.

It felt like his parents were still with him, but it was nice to have a more physical reminder.

He wondered what they would think of all this. Would they be impressed? Or angry? Embarrassed?

"Yep, definitely the third," he groused.

He thought about his relationship with Rarity.

Would other people understand? Would they even care that she was intelligent; that she could speak, and love, and feel as anyone does? Or would they shun him for not only having sex, but also falling in love with a pony?

Atchmon didn't hold much faith in his own kind.

The best he could've done was take advantage of their greed. But that meant he needed proof, and what better than to have a real, live Unicorn presented before the world.

And that was his true shame: That he was no different than anyone else.

Atchmon felt some shame for having relations with Rarity. But overall, he saw it as nothing more than a natural act. He was male, she was female; and they cared for one another. They were both compatible with each other to get some satisfaction out of the act.

And boy was it satisfying.

Atchmon grinned proudly thinking back to his coitus with the mare. She really enjoyed herself too, and that made the whole act all the better for it.

But despite that, and everything, Atchmon still felt lonely. Meeting Rarity was the best thing to ever happen to him, in every sense of the phrase. But now they were apart. He couldn't be sure they were 'officially' broken up. But from what he's seen thus far, and what he knows about Rarity. The odds weren't in his favor.

It was very likely things wouldn't work out between them anyway.

He made a promise to win her back, and Atchmon knew how bad he was at keeping those. So why should this be any different?

What if some other mare came his way? Could he find it in himself to be with her instead? Or should he consider Rarity's feelings? What if he did that, then lost the other mare because she couldn't wait for him?

"I just don't want to be alone anymore," Atchmon whispered his answer, looking melancholy.

Even if it had to be a mare, and not a girl from his world; he just wanted someone to hold, to give his life purpose and meaning.

Atchmon knew he would make a good boyfriend and maybe a husband if he'd just get the chance. And there's the rub; it was the possibility of such a thing that always eluded him.

Before Equestria, he was a dumb, impoverished, arrogant and fresh-out-of-his-teens man-baby. And now... well, he was still basically the same, but older and a Stallion.

Atchmon sighed in frustration.

Why did he need to convince himself that this was okay? He was a pony now! Everyone was a pony here.

Why not have a little fun before making any big decisions?

"Atchmon?" Rarity called him from just inside the bathroom door.

He was snapped out of his thoughts, having been caught staring through the mirror.

"I knocked... you didn't answer," she said in concern.

He looked away in embarrassment.

"Darling, is everything alright?" she asked in concern.

"Well... I dunno what to do with myself; there's no plants to water, traps to check, animals to hunt..." he flinched, forgetting that Rarity didn't like him mentioning his penchant for ending animals lives to survive. "There's not really anything for me to do anymore..."

Rarity stepped forward in support, listening to what he was telling her.

Atchmon sighed. "I feel just as lost as I was before I met you, I dunno what to do with myself," he shrugged.

Rarity knitted her brow in thought. "I think you'll have to figure that out for yourself, just like everypony else, dear," she finished gesturing with a nod to his blank flank.

Atchmon followed her gaze, looking at his bare hide, and uttered a mirthless chuckle with the ghost of a smile dying on his lips. "You know it'll prolly never turn up, right?"

Rarity knitted her brows in concern. "Perhaps, but wouldn't you like to know what your special talent is if it does?"

"Yeah, kinda, maybe, but... I dunno," he sighed. "I feel like if it does show up, then it means I'm not me anymore."

"A Cutie Mark doesn't change who you are, it's just an outward expression of what's already inside you," she reassured him while placing a hoof on his shoulder.

Her gesture was sweet, and it made him feel better and more intrigued to find his Mark.

Rarity spoke encouragingly. "Why don't you take a few days to get yourself comfortable and used to living here; maybe go out and see the town, make yourself at home; then deal with all the other stuff later; does that sound like a good idea?"

Atchmon considered it a moment.

Every day spent in the Everfree forest was a constant search for food. And even if he'd stock up on that, there were other things to maintain, like his vegetable garden, or his bow and making more arrows. His ceramic craft took up a lot of his time whenever he needed to make something new, or replace what was broken.

This was a chance to rest, relax, and take things easy, and that thought was very appealing to him. Plus, there was a whole new town to explore!

Atchmon nodded with a smile. "Yeah, it does sound good!" he chirped.

Sweetie Belle shouted from downstairs. "I'm off to school, sis!"

"Okay Sweetie!" She called back. "I have to get myself ready too, darling, if you don't mind."

Atchmon smiled sheepishly and removed himself from the washroom.

After Rarity got herself looking presentable, Atchmon waved goodbye from the threshold of the front door.

"Are you sure, you're going to be okay by yourself?" Rarity asked outside of Carousel Boutique. "I'd take you with me, but I'm afraid it's going to be a dreadfully boring errand run; it's not at all how I wanted your first official day as a Ponyvillian to go." She finished, sounding disappointed.

Her hair was done up in the usual curls, and she wore one of her old designer saddlebags around her flanks, along with a bonnet covering her head, while floating a pair of sunglasses to help hide her identity.

Her three-diamond cutie mark was on full display, which made Atchmon question the effectiveness of her disguise. But with her coat colored a lime-green in the sun, she could pass for a totally different pony.

Atchmon chuckled while shaking his head at the umpteenth time she asked about his wellbeing. Brushing off her concern and speaking almost laconicly. "I'll be fine Rare, I spent years alone by myself, a few hours is gonna be nothin' t' me." He stood straighter in the doorway, looking proud of the terribly sad achievement.

"Well... if you're sure," Rarity bit her lip as she considered his words, then nodded. "Okay, I should be back by this afternoon, there's some snacks left in the fridge if you get hungry." She turned to leave, only to turn back. "Oh and-"

"Just go Rare, or everyone'll be at lunch before you get where you're goin'!" He shooed her away, after realizing she was stalling herself for his sake.

"Yes, right, of course, see you again soon," she turned and trotted a few steps before looking back one last time, seeing Atchmon watching her from the doorway.

They shared a look and a comforting smile, then waved each other goodbye, before Rarity finally trotted away to run her errands.

Atchmon waited until Rarity's flank was out of sight, then gazed across the quiet pony town. There were no ponies in sight. But he could hear the quiet drone of activity near the center of town, punctuated by the squeals and laughter of children.

Atchmon felt the cold snap of fear and loneliness creeped up his chest, as he took a hesitant step outside the threshold of Rarity's boutique...

A pony couple cantered around the opposite way Rarity went, talking idly to themselves, until one broke off the conversation as they sensed something was amiss at Carousel Boutique.

"Something wrong, Lyra?" Bon Bon asked while slowing to a trot.

The mint-green mare darted her yellow-eyes around the shop, then stared at it's closed purple door before shrugging. "Guess it was nothing." She said nonchalantly before cantering to catch up to her mate.

Atchmon's back rested against the doorway, his heart thudding against his chest; then checked to see if the coast was clear before taking a breath to calm his frayed nerves.

He looked down to see Rarity's cat, Opalescence, sitting on the carpet staring at him in that tired, disinterested way that cats do.

The kitty's purrs could be heard throughout the quiet shop as she slowly blinked at him.

Atchmon looked outside the front window of Carrousel Boutique. Rarity's home was located nearer the town's center by the marketplace. He could see a multitude of multicolored carnival tents with crates and barrels of goods stacked high around the back of each one. And just on the other side of the market was the town's tallest building. The tower stood tall like a beacon of wonder to him, the numerous spires were adorned with a pink pennant flag around it's circular tower top, waving gracefully in the wind.

Each wave of a flag looked as though they were beckoning him to come outside and explore.

He saw all sorts of candy colored ponies walking by his window, all making their way to the market, some were mothers with young fillies following closely beside them. One adorable unicorn filly spotted him looking outside the window and gave him a wave with her candy sucker.

Atchmon waved back with an awkward smile and a look of wonder.

He stood again before the front entrance of the shop. His imagination running wild with the wonders awaiting him just on the other side.

Then a terrible sinking feeling entered his heart, and traveled down to his gut, freezing his legs in place.

"Come on... come on!" Atchmon growled at himself with his head resting against the door.

He hated himself in that moment. Hated feeling the fear in his chest. After only one day out of the Forest, he'd already developed a fear of going outside.

That was supposed to be his domain!

In an act of defiance, Atchmon tore open the door, then slammed it a second later; breathing hard again with his back against it.

Atchmon looked down at Opalescence, watching him with her cat eyes, having not moved a muscle.

"Don't judge me, kitty," Atchmon huffed to the cat.

"Mrrrrrrowl," Opalescence opened her mouth wide, and gave him a big yawning meow, showing just how unimpressed she was with the stallion.

"Okay, baby steps," he nodded before trotting off to explore Rarity's home and shop, with Opalescence following behind him.

Atchmon explored the confines of Rarity's home. From the shop front with all of its naked ponyquins and the few adorned with fanciful garbs along with racks full of clothes, then to the kitchenette area. The shop front also had a little modeling stage setup, and a miniature hair saloon service in the back.

He tried on a few basic suits that were left out on racks, but none of them were anywhere close to his size.

*Ker-rrriiip*

He panicked after ripping the back of one on accident, taking it off and placing it back on the rack as if no one had touched it.

He followed the curving stairs upward, and entered the first door on the left.

This room smelled very different from from the rest of the house. His senses told him a young filly resided here, confirming what his eyes already saw.

Sweetie Belle obviously had a fondness for music and organization. Her room looked very neat and girly, if the posters advertising 'colt' bands and other pop idols were any indication. She had a vanity dresser with tri-fold mirrors, and her bed was a white, heart-shaped rod-iron frame with purple and pinkish sheets.

Atchmon looked around the room finding a small piano against the wall next to her bed. He trotted over and lifted the covering hiding all its keys, and did a double take between the keys and his large, round hoof; he pressed down, having played three notes at once with the tip of his hoof. Then twisted his hoof and played two notes at the same time with the edge of his hoof.

No matter how hard he tried, the stallion couldn't hit a single note by itself.

Atchmon chuckled, laughing off his inability to play the instrument. Not that he was ever interested in playing to begin with.

Except now, he felt that choice was taken from him.

He shook the depressive thoughts from his mind and looked out the window which overlooked the market way.

He huffed, still not feeling up to going out just yet and moved back towards the exit.

*Clink!*

Atchmon made to close the bedroom door, but stopped to investigate the sound.

On the door handle hung a medal with a microphone emblazoned on the face. Atchmon palmed the medallion and flipped it over seeing writing on the back.

'Best Singer'

He placed the medal back where it was found and closed the door behind him.

Atchmon nosed around Rarity's master bedroom--slash--work studio. It was an incredibly spacious room with a crafting supply closet and a regular walk-in closet, shelves full of threads, and a designers table next to her bed, which was large enough to accommodate his size. He felt miffed that Rarity was hogging such a monster of a mattress all to herself, but let it slide knowing he'd do the same in her position.

Rarity's cleanliness was in stark contrast to her younger sister's. Supplies and clothes were already strewn about like a second layer of carpet.

He proceeded to nose around Rarity's room just like he did with Sweetie Belle's, only more deeply.

Atchmon found a strange wand-like device hidden in Rarity's dresser drawers. There was a crystal stuck to the bottom of it--which is what caught his interest-- and a large bulbous dome at the top. It activated when he moved it, causing the wand's domed head to vibrate rapidly like a buzzing hive of bees.

It took a few hits with his hoof for it to stop. "Hmm, must be for massages, Rarity always talked about how much she loves those," he spoke idly to himself, and thought nothing more of it.

As Atchmon rummaged around her dressers, he noticed there wasn't a single pair of underwear in sight.

Not that he was actively looking for any; it was just an observation!

Which made sense, it would've been a hassle for a pony to put something like that on and off, especially if they had an emergency and needed to use the bathroom.

Next to the dresser was Rarity's worn saddlebags from the Forest. They looked so sorry sitting there looking brown with filth and drooping with overuse.

Atchmon could only spare a sympathetic look to the incredibly useful rucksacks

He felt a little guilty rummaging through her things, but he thought nothing of it. To him, it was little more than a treasure hunt, you never know what you'd find out about a person, until after finding their secret stashes.

And for Rarity, it was a cache of Erotic Novella and magazines hidden in the most obvious of places: under the mattress. The pages read more romantically and lovey-dovey than he cared, plus one was about two stallions getting it on.

"Bleh," Atchmon scoffed in disgust at the cheesey-ness of the narrative, before flipping through a few pages of the magazines next.

All the stallions were very pretty, with manes and tails all done up; some were cut in patterns. Their coats had a shiny sheen to them; stallions of every flavor to sate every mare's taste. From short and cute, to the age-old tall, dark, and handsome; that one being an all black stallion from Saddle Arabia.

Atchmon knitted his brows in frustrated confusion. 'Huh, he doesn't have a Mark on his flank either... so why's everyone pushin' me to get one if there's others out there without one?'

At first glance the stallion seemed like a regular horse back from his world, but there was no mistaking those eyes. They were more akin to a horse, but had that 'Human' look to them.

But the biggest draw in the magazine's targeted demographic, were their dicks.

Horse dick.

Pony dick.

Cocks everywhere; and a Griffon of all things; which Atchmon stared at for longer, only because it was a Griffon and nothing else...

Some were hung like the horses they were, while the more professional models sported shorter, thinner penises. One palomino stallion--the centerfold-- proudly presented his dainty nine-inch member draped across his belly, while he was laying back on a fluffy bed of rose petals while holding a ruler for scale.

Atchmon knew that would've been a god-like size to have as a human, but things worked differently here in the pony-world. 'Rarity did say the girls here didn't like big ones being shoved into them; so I guess smaller ones would be better to them.'

All the magazine did was make Atchmon all the more self-conscious. 'Is this what Rarity likes?' He thought, looking at all the pretty stallions in the pages.

He looked at himself in Rarity's vanity mirror. There wasn't anything he could find in the magazine on himself. His face was more bony than smooth; his ribs showed; which were another thing all the other stallions lacked. The cuts between his muscles kinda showed, but they didn't have that healthy 'fullness' and strength the others had.

The Tree of Harmony must've translated his body to an emaciated stallion form, in the same way his human body was before.

Atchmon knew he was in bad shape, having starved for days at a time, and limiting himself to one meal a day for months at a time.

So many days were spent reminiscing about the times he'd sequester himself to his bedroom with a soda, a sandwich, and a bag of chips all to himself.

Atchmon shook the past thoughts out of his head, and put away Rarity's things, then noticed a sewing tape measure on Rarity's design desk.

He shouldn't, not with her things... but curiosity got the better of him. Plus, he really want to know. So he went and grabbed the tape between his lips and dropped it on the bed.

Now it was just a matter of working himself up to get a proper measurement.

The excitement of measuring himself was enough to make his head poke out its sheath. Atchmon huffed while tenderly touching himself, being careful with the hard keratin hoof while trying to coax the rest of his shaft to appear.

As he bent over to fondle his fruit-sized testes, Atchmon's head lowered closer to Rarity's bed sheets. His imagination went from fantasizing about the busty 'farmer's-daughter-type' high-schooler girls he graduated with, to thoughts about Rarity as his senses filled with her scent, while his mind envisioned her rump.

His stallion instincts took over, making him want more.

There was another feminine smell mixed with hers, he recognized it as the same one from Sweetie Belle's room. But he preferred the familiarity of the former. It was that unmistakable 'pet' smell his mind automatically labeled as "Rarity". But it was different this time. There was an effeminate bouquet laced within that familiarity, the stallion part of his mind labeling it as 'mare'.

Atchmon adjusted and stood half-laying on Rarity's bed, snuffling where she laid last night; while his member slipped from its sheath and stiffened.

He thought about her fair face, and her sex, and her springy, round, white rump. Of the time he parted those curvy, slender, luscious, charcoal-colored lips; and made her his mare.

His cock was sandwiched against his belly and foreleg, while his hips jerked to rub himself more; sending electric tingles around the swollen ridges of his flare.

The intense sensations brought Atchmon out of his fantasies. He rolled over, laying back on the bed, having successfully aroused himself, seeing his member standing proudly before him; stiff and hard.

It pulsated with his heartbeat, every strand of vein twitched as blood coursed through his dark base and mottled shaft. A drop of clear pre-ejaculate dripped from the round, telescoped urethral-hole; landing upon his belly and soaking into the fur. He flexed and watched as the glans ballooned into a massive disk of flesh right in front of his face. It looked abnormally large compared to the stallion's who had them in the magazines, but it was hard to judge scale just from a picture.

He marveled at how long it was, before regaining his wits and looking around for the tape measure. He'd calmed enough that his flare reduced itself to a more 'normal' shape.

He sat up on the bed's edge just like he would as a human--with the tape in his mouth--and with difficulty, managed to place the measure at his base, then carefully drew it along his shaft, making sure the larger number was the one he'd see.

And what a number it was!

"Fourteen..." Atchmon scoffed in disgusted disbelief, then mouthed off a curse, unable to accept the result of his measurement. He remeasured and checked the tape to make sure it was close to his metric system.

But it didn't matter how he looked at it, Atchmon was hung by his standards.

Though in truth for a stallion, he was in the lower-median range. Some of the stallions in the magazine had cocks that were a scant few inches off the ground, and it was a Zebra who owned that member. And there were draft-ponies, workhorses with tree trunks between their legs.

Atchmon sat on Rarity's bed--having accepted the measurements as accurate--while contemplating rubbing one out in the bathroom.

Before Rarity came into his life, the last thing he relieved himself to, was an extra curvy piece of wood he found in the forest; and that embarrassment happened a year before her.

His imagination could only help him for so long, before the desire for release faded, while depression and hopelessness invaded.

Then Rarity happened.

He remembered cleaning off her dirt-covered body. How plush and smooth her coat felt despite the grit. Then curiosity got the better of him, and he lifted her tail to check her sex.

And that's all it was, just a question to answer, nothing more; a boy or a girl.

But then as they grew closer, he couldn't help thinking about that curvy, plump pony vulva. He was ashamed of the thoughts he had, and dealt with them in private during his 'gathering' runs.

It didn't help that Rarity practiced her calisthenics in the cave with him present. The first time she did a 'downward dog' position--her tail curved in an arch above her rump, fully exposing her parted sex--that was the final straw that broke Atchmon's resolve.

He was in the forest, imagining so vividly her delicate folds and the twisting pink within, while stroking his member.

Atchmon wanted to know what it would feel like to sink his cock into that warm, wet little pony pussy. The thought of bumping himself against her plush little plot brought him to new levels of excitement he'd never felt before.

It was so wrong to think of her this way, but the deviancy just made better somehow.

The feeling and excitement grew as he kept touching himself, until it built to a climax.

He finally hit that point of blissful release for the first time in over a year.

White ropes of cum splattered against the tree he was using for leverage, while is body felt euphoric after a hit of dopamine and endorphins clouded his mind.

He panted and pulled up his jeans then wiped off his hand, before doing a bit of gathering to add validity to his lie.

It was an awkward reunion once he got back to the cave. Rarity asked him if he'd brought some more flowers for her to consume. Which he didn't, and asked why she thought that? To which Rarity replied that she could smell a 'delightfully' pungent scent coming from him.

He laughed nervously, and explained that he might've brushed against something while in the forest. But in his mind he was reeling at almost getting caught.

He'd have to remember not to wipe semen on his clothes in the future.

Atchmon was using the crimp of his pastern to stroke himself as he imagined his time spent with Rarity. His new pony cock was painfully erect and tingling with sensitivity. He was getting into it, before a knock at the front door interrupted him.

*Knock! Knock!*

Atchmon froze in place then carefully peered out the bedroom window to see who it was.

The balcony kept whoever it was hidden from his view. He felt panicked when the door was opened with a key, and whoever was visiting entered the shop.

He went to see who it was, but stopped short of the bedroom door when the pony spoke in a twangy accent.

"Rare, ya home?" The mare called out. "Ah'm sorry Ah missed your party last night," she paused. "Awe ponyfeathers, must'a missed 'er," she spat in curse, then closed and locked the door behind her.

Atchmon went to catch sight of who it was in Rarity's window, but by then the mare was lost in a small crowd traveling down the street. He collapsed on the bed, trying to catch his breath.

"What the heck is wrong with you," Atchmon berated himself, trying to recover from the anxiety spike. "If you don't get out there and face the world, the world's gonna find its way inside to you; like it always does..." His pep-talk did little to motivate himself.

He got up and went to face the front door again.

All he could do was stare at the purple wooden barrier between him, and everything else.

Atchmon rested his head against the door, and quietly talked himself up, while bumping his head against the door. "C'mon, you're better than this--bonk--you're tougher than this--bonk--you got this--bonk-bonk--you took on monsters, and rode on giant bears. You hunted. Killed. Survived--bump--You conquered every challenge, and you can conquer this--bang--owe!" He bumped his head a little too hard after getting lost in his pep talk, and started rubbing it.

Atchmon took a breath, and moved autonomously--as if some other force were in control of his limbs, while blocking out the fear--and opened the door.

His hoof hesitantly stepped beyond the threshold.

Then another step.

And another.

And another.

His mind blanked, and somehow he was standing outside Carousel Boutique.

His head craned around, looking behind himself at the open door of Rarity's Home and its dark interior.

He turned back, placing a hoof on the handle, while fighting his urge to run back inside where it was safe.

Atchmon backed away, and the door closed with a click.

Author's Note

Had about 20k word written for this next chapter, but decided to split it. Hope ya'll like the "refusal of the call" chapter lol. Not much of a refusal.