Ian woke to a warm bed, a very warm bed. But the warmest patch was beside him, where there was a huge empty space where a very large mare had been spooning him. His brain suddenly came fully awake, and raced at what had happened to him.

His hands slid down his body, felt not a stitch of clothing on himself. All the embarrassment of what had happened washed over him. "This is stupid, I need to find my things and get out of here." Despite his words, the bed was soft, and warm, and smelled of Solid Built. It took him nearly ten minutes, the bed felt safe, comfortable, but he finally stuck one leg out.

With the sanctity of the bed compromised, Ian followed his limb out and looked around for his clothes. Then he saw them, neatly folded, sitting on the end of the bed. Socks, boxers, pants, shirt, and finally pulled his shoes on. "I can probably just slip out."

Leaving the room, Ian looked down the long hallway that branched to other rooms above the bar. At the end of the hall was the stairs Solid had carried him up the night before. Memories threatened to overwhelm him, of what they had done, and how she had treated him.

"Here he is." It wasn't Solid's voice, but the unicorn who had been behind the bar the previous day. "Solid didn't crush you, did she?"

Ian hadn't realized he had even walked to the top of the stairs. Under his breath, he muttered, "Well, there goes sneaking off." He took the stairs slowly, entering the taproom. "Uh… she was nice." It was a total cop-out and both Ian and the mare knew it.

"You don't have to lie here, Ian." Chatter made just like her name-sake and practically held up both sides of the conversation. "Solid is like a mother to all of us, some of us really don't like their real mothers…" She trailed off, giving a sense that she was one of those ponies. "So what do you want? I have some warm porridge for breakfast."

His mouth open, Ian was just about to tell the unicorn he would pass, when his belly grumbled loudly. He closed his mouth and gave a deep sigh. "When will she be back? I need to talk to her."

Chatter laughed and her horn lit up. Without the distraction of a huge mare cuddling him, Ian could see clearly that it was lighting up a sickly green, not the gold her eyes promised. "She will be back whenever, you want a drink?"

As the bowl of hot porridge floated in before him, Ian scanned behind the bar. "Just a juice, if you have some. Anything but apple." He saw the wide grin on the mare's snout widen further. In a moment a chilled glass of orange juice was set before him.

"Thought about a contract?" Chatter seemed inclined to stand directly opposite Ian, watching him. "Don't think I missed that, a hot stallion like you, what do you like in a mare, apart from huge and cuddly?"

It was too many questions at once, way too many, and far too personal. Ian was trying to sink down further, when another voice came from the side.

"Back off, Wobbles." Ian's head lifted again to see the bat pony from behind the bar the previous day. From the side she was on right now, she looked perfect. As she neared him, she turned and he saw her left side. The flesh of her wing-arm was still there, each long, boney finger perfect, but the tattered shreds of flesh between them would make flying impossible. "Hey, my name's Screech… well, it isn't. But like everypony here, a new name for a new life, eh?"

"Ian." Ian looked at the dark-featured mare, then back to Chatter. "Okay, I give in. What is this place all about? Do you trap stallions in here? Force them to sign a Stallion Contract?" The words came out harsher than he intended and he quickly dipped his head. "No, sorry, that came out worse than I meant." It always happened, when he was in a crowded situation, with people—or ponies—he didn't know.

Screech stretched her ruined wing out, wrapped it around Ian's shoulder. "Hey, don't sweat it. Nopony is perfect in here." She tapped a forehoof on the bar and glared at Chatter. After a moment of the two meeting eyes, the unicorn floated another glass of juice over. "Thanks, Wobbles."

"I told you, I prefer Chatter." Chatter stomped a delicate hoof, and in her rage her disguise dropped. A swirl of green fire sputtered around the pretty unicorn, revealing the changeling under the disguise. "Ugh, Screech, now look what you did!"

Ian blinked a few times in surprise, and said what everyone inevitably did when a changeling dropped their disguise. "You're a changeling?" Even as his lips made the words, Ian noticed more. Chatter had a few nasty scuff marks against her carapace, at her right shoulder. Below the marks, the shoulder ended with a small stump of chitin, where her leg should have been.

"Yeah…" Chatter slumped her head down, practically pressing it to the bar itself. She was surprised when something touched her ear. It was soft, warm; as it explored, it started rubbing tenderly. She didn't even realize she twitched her wings, giving a soft chirp of happiness. It was simple, relaxing, and she didn't realize it was Ian doing it for a few moments, and by then she just didn't care.

"You have to teach me that spell, Ian." Screech gave her wing a little flex around Ian's shoulder. "Because nothing short of magic could shut Chatter up that quickly."

"I hate you." Chatter's words contradicted her tone, the changeling sounded relaxed, happy. "So much hate I could just drift off to sleep…" She tilted her head a little, making the ear-rubbing easier.

Ian was fascinated at how calm and quiet the pair had gotten. "Why do you keep calling her Wobbles?" Ian's brain made the connection between missing a leg and wobbling just as Screech's eyebrow raised. "I am just full of stupid questions, today. Sorry, Chatter."

"It'sss okay…" Chatter's eyes were closed, her head resting on the bar under Ian's fingers, she even chirped her wings together again. "Ssssoo… cont… cant…" only when Ian paused his rubbing could she say the complicated word, "contract?"

"Why does everyone seem to want me to sign one of those? They… they are degrading." Ian started rubbing again, using the action to ease his mood. "One just wanted a pet, why didn't they get a dog? Another wanted me to… well, let me just say that a pet would be a step up."

"There are some messed up ponies out there." Screech watched Chatter closely, saw the usually abrasive (to Screech) changeling practically a puddle of peace. "I have to wear a cloak if I want to go outside, ponies actually squeal in shock. It's worse for Chatter, and don't even get me started on Snaps and Click."

Chatter lifted her head and looked at the bat pony. "You said my name!" Her accusation came with a little giggle. "Say it again, so you can remember how it sounded."

"Wobbles." Screech stuck her tongue out.

Ian finally realized the two actually seemed to be friends, and not bitter enemies. "What do you think Solid wants? She… she said something about a contract." He was done with his food, and started using his other hand on Chatter's free ear, completely disabling the changeling.

"She gathers us up." Screech sipped at her juice. "She wanders around the city, particularly the train station, looking for lost little lambs, and brings them back here." The bat pulled her wing back from Ian's shoulder. "She hides her own deformity easier… well, not easier than Wobbles." All the changeling could do was blow a raspberry at the bat pony, which was an amazing sight considering their tongue.

"What about the contract? Did she ask you yet?" Screech sipped her drink again, ruffled her wings, then looked intently at Ian. "Did she even explain it? What it would mean for us?"

"Wait." Ian stopped his rubbing, causing Chatter to open her big, blue eyes. " 'Us'? I don't understand, what would her contract mean for you?" He looked between the two mares.

Screech was first to reply. "Rub the ears and I will explain, if Wobbles starts talking she will never stop. There is a reason she wants to be called 'Chatter,' and I will have no part in encouraging her." She watched Ian's hands as they started, Chatter's eyes closing again. "The contract is for all of us. Me, Wobbles, Bitey, Whippet, and Clicks… oh, and Solid too. It is a herd contract, we want a stallion."

Ian didn't have enough blood in his body to blush sufficiently for the proposition. He looked from the changeling, to the bat pony. "Wait, 'Bitey'?" He frowned. "You don't mean the—"

"I would be very careful talking about Snaps." Chatter's words were soft, but managed to hold a hint of the warning she wanted to pass on. "She really is as smart as a pony, smarter than some I could mention." She gave a deep sigh. "We want fillies… well, they do. I would get by with a good dicking, and being able to drink from somepony while they bucked me."

"What?" Ian froze in his petting of Chatter's ears. "Wait, you want… I don't… I am not even the right species!" His hands started again, unable to resist the lure of the changeling's ears. "I… why are you looking at me like that?"

"Where are you from? This is Equestria!" Screech giggled and waved her drink around expansively. "The home of friendship with benefits!" Both mares laughed at the joke. "Honestly, a little magic, probably an amulet, and you would be as fertile with us as any stallion."

Chatter lifted her foreleg and booped Screech on the snout. "You are getting distracted." With her ears being rubbed, her voice sounded soft, relaxed. "We all have things we want a stallion for, Ian, and you just… you are unique, you look so different, and special; you stick out just like the rest of us."

A shiver ran up and down Ian's spine at the thought of it. He focused on the problem. "I don't know. I mean, I think you are all nice, cute…" an image ran through Ian's head, of pinning either of the two mares down and, "okay, and I think you are both pretty hot." He blushed admitting it, but the two had been so honest and open, that lying seemed like a horrible thing to do.

"He needs time to think, Wobbles. Don't scare the nice creature off, now." Screech downed the last of her drink. "We are a herd, Ian, and we need a stallion. It is entirely your choice, and I wouldn't want you to sign until you have gotten to know Clicks, Rake, and Snaps."

"Not that I am agreeing, but I would like to meet them before… a contract, too." Ian was fighting off thoughts now, of wanting to be their stallion for them. "I need to freshen up, and find some work to do."

Chatter attempted to lift her head enough to at least look up at Ian, but while the ear-rubbing continued she had no chance. "There are some things we need picked up at the market, I was going to get Solid to grab them, but if you want to pay for your room and food, helping out around here would be a good start."

"Work for my lodgings here?" Ian thought it over a moment and smiled. "Okay, that will be fine." He pinched both of the changeling's ears gently and rubbed using just his thumbs and forefingers. When Chatter gave another happy chirp, he let go. "I should go and get clean."

With Ian getting up and heading back upstairs, Screech turned to Chatter. "Well, he certainly has you on his side, I take it?" She reached her good wing over and brushed the changeling's nose. "I have never seen you so… relaxed, Wobbles."

Looking up at Screech, Chatter stuck out her tongue. "New bet. If you are any better than I was, with him rubbing your ears, then I will not complain about you calling me Wobbles, for a whole week."

"You are on. And if you win I will not call you Wobbles at all, Wobbles." Screech booped her friend on the nose playfully. "Ugh, I hope he accepts the contract, it ain't just my ears that are itchy." She shifted her haunches.

~~~~~+++++~~~~~

It didn't take Ian long to get cleaned up and dressed again, experience with pony facilities had rubbed off on him quite well, although their habit of communal bathing still left plenty of room for embarrassment. Luckily, there seemed to be no ponies needing the facilities.

Walking down the stairs again, only Chatter was in the taproom, back in her "pretty unicorn" disguise. "All squeaky clean?" She turned and smiled at Ian, her tail arched slightly. She had, of course, been waiting in just this position for a while now, wanting to show off to the potential "stallion" of her herd.

"Yeah, the bath is quite nice, is it… shared?" It was hard for Ian to keep his eyes off Chatter's plot, her tail seemed to have a life of its own and kept swaying just enough to tantalize him with a hint of what was under it, but never enough to be blatant.

Chatter noticed Ian's eyes and kept the game up. "Of course they are. If you had got up a bit earlier, I might have joined you." She swished her tail almost enough to let him see "her," but always kept her vulva just out of sight. "There is two barrels of hard cider, and another smaller cask of double-distilled applejack I need you to pick up. We have a little cart you can take to carry them in."

Ian had to shake his head to break away from Chatter's hypnotic game. "Two big barrels, and a small cask. Got it. Where do I go for them?" He was straining to not look, but then her tail seemed to twitch more than normal and he was lost to gazing at Chatter's plot again, in the hope it would happen once more.

"I'll write it down." Chatter regretted having to move, but broke the game she was playing by turning and walking to the bar. Scratching down the address on a piece of paper, she floated it over to Ian with her green magic. "Thanks for the meal, by the way."

"Meal?" Ian was a little confused, but turned his attention to the paper.

"Yes, a meal indeed." Chatter reached out boldly with her magic, giving Ian's strained pants a single stroke. She saw his eyes widen in surprise, but didn't push any further. "You are delicious." She gave his plot a pat with her magic, turning back to clean more tables as Ian stumbled out of the bar.

Author's Note

Fuel my writing on Ko-Fi!

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Awesome ponies who are already helping to keep me in keyboards and rum:
Canary in the Coal Mine
Daremo
Mary Rowland
Boulder
A.P.O.N.I.
Mephia
Nils
Ian

And special thanks to the following, for careful eyes and friendly words:
Daremo
Vutava
Boulder
Jeffh4