Chapter 1: Ain't No Bucking Here
I. Hate. Potato Salad. I’ve been cooking for myself and others since I was a little kid, and there has never been a dish that is more oddly disgusting. I love potatoes, and I love salad, so you’d think that combining the two would be a beautiful marriage between two equally delicious items. But you’d be wrong. More wrong than an ostrich at a wedding. Or, to pick another completely random example, more wrong than a human in a world of anthropomorphic ponies.
I’ll be honest, I don’t know what happened. I’m your average Joe, born and raised in a small Californian town, and working a largely uninteresting job at a local burger chain. I haven’t exactly been leading a life of adventure and thrills, but I had enough money to pay for food and rent, plus enough for any small bits of entertainment I wanted. So I was content, if not constantly overjoyed.
But one fine summer day, when I was walking home from the Supermarket, something happened. A wind came out of nowhere, and clouds rolled in, dark and gray and moving far too quickly, and somehow the street had emptied as well. A single beam of light shone down upon me, and a voice spake thusly: “Mark --” sidenote, my name’s Mark “-- Mark… this is a load of bullshit.”
And I said: “Dammit God, I don’t try to ruin your stories, let me have this.”
“Fuck you Mark, I have a lot on my plate without dealing with this garbage.” And then the clouds turned into a giant middle finger.
Anyways, what actually happened was way less interesting, albeit probably more mysterious. I’d spent the day alternately reading and playing video games -- a relaxing but unproductive day -- and I was getting ready to go to sleep. I hopped into the shower, and was just washing my hair when it happened. Shampoo ran down my head, but, frustratingly, the water had stopped. Just… vanished. I fumbled about, eyes squished shut, and felt my foot go “squelch.” Not an ordinary, shower squelch, either. This squelch was the kind of squelch that makes you shudder a bit and skitter away from whatever made that squelchy squelch. Squelch. Euagh.
I wiped the soap out of my eyes and looked down. A pink, fur-covered face stared back up at me. She screamed. I screamed. Her friend screamed, though personally I think he was just trying to fit in. The new fad, which trend-watchers everywhere called “I scream, you scream, we all scream because there’s a strange naked creature on a table,” quickly swept the room, and suddenly I found myself floating above them all. At first I thought I was having an out of body experience -- or going crazy -- but after a moment I saw a stern-looking pony (as stern as a pony can look, anyways) in the corner of the room, horn glowing. Wait, horn. Unicorn?
As the screaming wound down in the room, I took in the scene from my… elevated position. It was a restaurant, and a rather nice one, too, judging by the decor. It seemed a bit antiquated, and as if it had been designed for people who weren’t fully grown, or -- oh. Or who, because of their anatomy, sat lower than humans. In any case, the restaurant was pretty full, and, subsequently, provided an excellent audience for my naked self. And by “excellent” I of course mean “nightmarish.” I mean, traditionally it’s supposed to be like, a high school or something, but trust me, intelligent horses in a restaurant is way worse.
Luckily for me, I was suddenly drifting through the air towards the nominally stern unicorn. I shivered a bit as the cold of the air finally hit me, and I realized that my foot was still covered in --
“Hey. You. You speak Equestrian?” asked what I assumed was a guard, to judge by his armor. It was purple and gold, and smacked and clanged of authority. He maneuvered me closer with… telekinesis? Unicorn magic? Dear god it’s probably unicorn magic. What an awful shower this was turning out to have been.
“Uh… no?” I said. The guard raised an eyebrow. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on, I was just trying to take a shower and suddenly I was here.”
“Hm. Well, you speak our language, so I’ll have a few questions for you back at the guardhouse.” I was dropped, unceremoniously, to the floor, and as I got back up, there was that damn squelching feeling again. I looked down at the offending limb, and what was my foot covered in? What, in the multitudes of the cosmos and universes, had I quite literally stepped into when some weird quirk of magic or science had forced me into a new world?
Potato salad, of course. God DAMN it.
*********
“Now, please, Mister… ?”
“Ableman.”
“Odd name. In any case, Mister Ableman, please, tell us what happened.”
“I’m gonna be totally honest with ya, I have no idea. You know as much as I do. Your report probably says something along the lines of ‘Unknown creature traipsed through a dining establishment, causing mass hysteria and embarrassment,’ and honestly, that’s about what happened. It just wasn’t on purpose.” The guard pony frowned.
“I haven’t written the report yet, Smith. That’s why we’re here. Now, please, tell me what happened.” I sighed and explained that I’d simply been taking a shower and somehow ended up in someone’s (damn) potato salad. Oh, and also in a world where ponies are the dominant life form.
“So what are you then? I mean, I could see you weren’t a pony, but I’ve never heard of anything like you.” He sipped some coffee, and I marveled a bit at the lack of any apparent force holding it in the air. I wondered if all ponies could do that, or just unicorns.
“Er, I’m a human,” I said, blinking as I turned my attention away from the literal magic in front of me.
“Human, eh?” The guard thought for a second. “Never heard of one before.” He sighed. “The princess’ll probably want to hear about you. Now there’s some paperwork.” He pushed away from the table and nodded at the one-way window -- a surprisingly modern touch in a place that used torches as the main source of light. The door swung open, and I was left to sit on my own for a moment while the ponies decided my fate.
After about ten minutes, the door opened once again, and a pair of unicorns walked in: One was my jaded interviewer, the other, my arresting officer (if such a thing existed here). The former said “Alright Smith, the princesses want to see you now, so we’re taking you to the Great Hall. Now, you’ve been largely cooperative, and you don’t seem to have any magic, so we aren’t gonna shackle ya, but don’t try anything. Our horns are sharper than you think.”
The pair led me up through the main guard house, which was about what you’d have expected from a police department back in Human Land; it reeked of coffee, sweat, and… horses. Exactly what you’d expect.
A small staircase led up and out of the guard house, and, very unlike a police station, led into what appeared to be a medieval castle. The hall we stepped out into was huge, with vaulted ceilings and doors which alternated between normal, five/six-foot tall doors, and enormous oaken doors that could have easily allowed a giant through. Wait. Does this place have giants? Don’t giants eat horses… ?
My speculation on the eating habits of fictional creatures was interrupted by two new guards opening one of the possibly-giant-sized doors and leading us through. On the other side was what could only be a throne room. The sheer size of the place told the world one thing: Whoever was here was important. And in case that wasn’t obvious enough, there were literally the two thrones sitting atop a raised platform. The larger of the two was covered in sun imagery, and sat in a more central position on the platform, while the smaller was offset, and painted in cooler, night colors. Both had stylized versions of their respective celestial objects, and it was pretty easy to figure out the power breakdown from those two chairs: King and queen. Sun and moon, the distinct but (in theory) equal halves of the power structure. At least some things are universal.
And then the princesses walked in.
I’m not sure what I expected from horse royalty, but what hopped gracefully into the thrones was not it. They were both tall, taller than either my armored escorts or myself, though the darker of the two -- the one whose… butt tattoo also appeared on the smaller of the two thrones -- was slightly shorter. And though they were very clearly regal, there was an odd sense to them that I had only seen in the modern royals on Earth. It was this aura of gentleness.
They were alicorns (I’m geeky enough to know some obscure mythology, thank you), which meant they were naturally imposing, what with the horn and wings on each of them. Add to that the hair that shimmered and flowed as though stars and rainbows were constantly running fingers through their manes, and you had people -- sorry, ponies, who were very clearly Royal. And even without the alicorn accoutrements and the royal accessories -- each wore a small tiara and elegant necklace -- they doubtless would still have that regal, naturally impressive posture. Everything about them practically screamed royalty. Except…
The taller royal nodded at the guards, and I was led gently but firmly forward, until I was standing at the foot of the steps below the throne.
“My guards inform me that you have caused a small stir in a restaurant,” said the white alicorn. She glanced down at the scroll she was handed -- hoofed? This terminology is getting confusing. Gonna stick with human terms until I learn what they use. “And, it seems, a stir in some… potato salad.” I tried not to shudder at the memory. So cold… so… squishy. “So. You are human, yes?” I blinked.
“Uh. Yes?” I said.
“Don’t look so surprised,” she said with a smile. “When I was younger, I dabbled with different dimensions. I’ve met a few humans, but I will admit --” she looked me up and down, “ -- Most humans I’ve met wear clothing.”
You know how most people don’t actually blush? Like, someone will say, once in a blue moon, “Oh my god, you’re blushing!” and they make a big deal out of it because it’s so rare for people to blush? Personally, I think it’s just that we don’t pay much attention to the color of someone’s cheeks, combined with our general societal need to be pretty flippant about most things. But right then, I blushed so hard I thought I was going to catch on fire.
“I -- uh -- I was sh-showering when I ended up here,” I managed after a moment. The alicorn I assumed was the Queen nodded at a guard.
“Please get a letter to Rarity, asking her to come to Canterlot at once,” she said to the armored unicorn. “I have a feeling she’ll appreciate the challenge.” She looked back to me. “Until then, we’ll get you something to cover up with, but before that, I would like to know how you crossed the dimensional barrier… in your shower.” The blush was still going strong, but I answered:
“Uh, yeah, actually, I don’t know. I was showering, and then, boom, potato salad.” I glanced down at the carpet that ran from the door to the thrones. “Honestly, I’m as confused as you all are.” I looked back up in time to see the two alicorns share a look. I hate that phrase, but seriously, they looked at each other, and then back at me. Why? You ain’t cool, Mrs. and Mrs. Royal.
“Well, aside from startling a few ponies that were out for dinner, it would not seem that you have done anything wrong. For now, we’ll house you here in the castle -- heaven knows we have enough room -- and we’ll try to find a solution to your… problem.”
Sun-lady-alicorn-whatever-she’s-called nodded again at a guard, and he nudged me in the direction of a small side-door. He was one of the two who had interrogated me, and seemed -- as if I was any judge -- to be approaching middle-age. His coat looked scruffy in places, even though obvious efforts had been made to clean and maintain it, and his face had a few lines drawn across it. His armor, though clearly more ceremonial than defensive, was spotless. And while I hadn’t been happy about being brought in, neither he nor his partner had been rough with me. Regardless of anything else, the guards seemed like decent individuals.
We walked in silence through the doorway into a much smaller hallway than the one leading out of the guard house. Two silent hallways later, we stopped in front of a door that looked like every previous one, and the guard pushed it open with unicorn magic. Yeeeah, doesn’t sound any better now, either. The door swung inwards to reveal a luxurious little bedroom. A small, four-poster bed sat in one corner, looking for all the world as though it had been pulled out of a children’s playset and blown up to be full-sized. A pair of windows sat in one wall, draped with thick, plush curtains. To the left, directly across from the foot of the bed, a fireplace was set into the wall, wood ready to be lit.
“You can stay in here for the time being,” said the guard. “If the princesses want ya elsewhere, that’s their prerogative, but they do that stupid ‘meaningful head nod,’ and so I just do what I can.” He nodded towards the room, and I thought for a moment he was making fun of his bosses, but suddenly the logs in the hearth burst into flames. “I’m Silver Spear, by the way. If you need anything, come find me, I’ll see what I can do.”
“Er, clothing?” I asked.
“Mm, right. I don’t know that we’ve got anything in the way of proper clothing for ya, but I’ll check in with the Wash, see if there are some decent, clean towels you can borrow until Rarity or another tailor can get to ya.”
“Thanks er, Mister Spear, I appreciate it.” The older unicorn grinned.
“Mister Spear is my father,” he said. “You can just call me Silver.” I grinned back.
“Cliched, Silver, but I appreciate it. Now, uh, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m gonna pass out.” The pony nodded, said good night, and walked off down the hallway, armor gleaming. My grin persisted, turned a bit dreamier, progressed all the way to sleep-drunk, and then I was in the bed, covers wrapped lazily around me. I’d never slept naked before, but damn if it wasn’t comfortable for the two seconds it took for exhaustion to overtake me.
***********************************
This will sound strange, but I don’t dream. I mean, once in awhile I’ll have a dream, but nine times out of ten I won’t have anything going through my head at night. Which I guess makes sense? But it’s definitely weird to have people go, “Oh man, Mark, I just had the craziest dream,” and then not have anything to really contribute to the conversation beyond: “Wow, that sure is crazy.”
But my first night in Equestria, I dreamt. I dreamed I was alone, walking through a small town with weird, nearly medieval cottages sitting side-by-side with small but modern wooden buildings. As I walked, my surroundings seemed to get darker and darker, as if a black fog had rolled in. It took me a moment to realize what was actually happening: A spotlight had picked me out on the cobblestone street, and was steadily growing brighter. I looked up, trying to find the source, and saw only the moon. After a moment, however, the moon grew brighter, almost too bright to look at, just before a figure eclipsed it.
Wings and hair and a horn broke the moonlight, flinging it randomly around me as the figure descended.
“Good evening, human,” said the darker of the two princesses I’d met earlier. “Having a good dream?” Had I been awake, this might have been more startling, but… it was a dream, after all.
“Uh. Hello? What can I do for you?” I asked. She laughed, and her mane sparkled, seeming to blend into the night sky behind her.
“We -- I did not get a chance to introduce myself,” she said, inclining her head slightly. “I am Princess Luna. And you are?”
“Uh. Mark. Mark Ableman. Noooo title?” The princess smiled. I blushed a little, which I still swear doesn’t normally happen. Don’t get me wrong, I am essentially in a state of constant embarrassment, but I think the last time I blushed (earlier that day not withstanding), it was when I spilled some water and an acquaintance thought I had peed my pants. And up until that point, I didn’t know I could blush.
“Very nice to meet you, Mark.” Princess Luna looked around at the silent town. “Is this the dream you want?”
“Uh.” For my own dreamland, I was being caught off guard pretty often. Maybe it wasn’t a lucid dream? But I knew it was a dream, which typically only happened when I had control… I blinked, and shook my head. “I uh, hadn’t really put any thought into it, Princess. Dreams just sort of happen, don’t they?” Another thought struck me. “Wait, if this is a dream, none of this is real, including you. And why am I dreaming about you, anyways?” Not that I expected a proper answer from a dream.
Luna, or whatever her name was, smiled again. It was a soft smile, the kind you’d expect royalty to wear, with just the edges of her mouth pulled back along her equine face, and without teeth showing. But her eyes held an obvious compassion and… beauty, of a sort.
“I am the Princess of the Night, and all of the night is my domain. Dreams included,” she said.
“Rrrrright.”
“If you don’t believe me, I will gladly meet you for dinner -- well, breakfast for you.” She spread her wings, and the town faded like fog. In its place was the room I’d been allowed to stay in. “Follow this hallway --” we moved through the door, no more corporeal than fog, and slid forward as if on a track, “-- and at the end of it, turn right. Up some stairs, you will find my solar.” We slid again, and ended in what appeared to be a large, medieval apartment. We were in a large living room, and off to one side, I could see a bedroom through a doorway.
“Solar? Shouldn’t it be a Lunar?” I said, face not changing. The princess looked sideways at me.
“You are very lucky that I actually enjoy puns. They annoy my sister to no end.” She grinned, all teeth and ears. “I actually made the same comment to her once, and she informed me that it is from an old word meaning ‘alone,’ rather than being related to her sun.” She spread her wings again, and after a moment we were standing in what appeared to be a fog bank. “Do you have a preference for what we eat? Ordinarily my meal is quite heavy.”
“Whatever you’d like, Princess Luna. I don’t want to interrupt your normal meal. Besides, this is all a dream anyways,” I said. It was an interesting dream, to be sure, and a pretty abnormal one, but a dream was a dream. They might have magic here, but it’d take more than some fancy telekinesis to convince me that their royalty was some kind of… dream goddess.
“Then I will see you in a few minutes,” said Princess Luna. There was that royal smile again, and after a moment I was back in my room. It took me a moment to realize I was actually in the room, awake. Soft sunlight shimmered through the window, and the fire had burnt down overnight, the embers just barely alive now.
Had it been real? It had definitely been a dream, but it still felt… true, somehow. I got up and stretched, and was immediately reminded of my persistent nakedness. There was a certain freedom to not needing clothes, and, being a castle, the room was refreshingly cool. Maaaaybe a little too cold for the morning, but I’ve always loved the cold, and after the long day I’d had, it was still enjoyable.
I tied on the towel that had been quietly left on the nightstand and grimaced. There weren’t any shoes, or even socks, and it occurred to me that ponies wouldn’t have any reason for footwear beyond -- ha -- horseshoes, to say nothing of shoes that would fit a human. I could already feel my feet starting to go numb on the cold, black and white tile.
But should I try to visit the Princess? Was she even a princess, or was that just my subconscious telling me random nonsense? I pulled the door open and peeked into the hallway. No one was outside -- I suppose they trusted I couldn’t do any real harm? -- and off to my right, I could just make out what appeared to be a staircase, right where Luna had shown me.
Alright, so… so I had noticed that somewhere in the back of my mind, and the dream had been my way of -- what? Screwing with me? I mean, dreams weren’t some mystic thing, so it honestly could have just been nonsense. But it was certainly weird that there was a staircase there.
Okay, here’s the plan. I’m going to try going up those stairs. If Luna’s solar was actually up there, then either the dream had been real, in which case I’d hopefully get some answers about this place, or my brain was crazy smart when I was asleep, and I could just apologize to whoever was in there.
Rationalization firmly in place, I walked out into the hallway and stepped onto the staircase. Sure enough, the same door I’d seen in my dream stood at the top, all lacquered wood and thin metal bands. I walked slowly up to it, practically creeping towards it, hesitated, and finally knocked three times.
“You may enter,” said a familiar voice. I pushed the door open, and that darn smile greeted me.
“I’m gonna be honest,” I said, “I’m not sure whether to be relieved or confused.” The alicorn laughed -- it really was the same pony I’d seen in my dream. God damn pony magic, guys. What the hell.
“Not to worry, Mark, we can understand the confusion,” she said, gesturing at the seat across from her.
“Uh, we?” I asked as I took a seat. It pushed my legs up slightly, though I was gratified to find that pony-sized chairs (well, this one at least) were not nearly as uncomfortable for my human frame as I had expected.
“By all the stars… my apologies, I do fall back onto older speech patterns. Speech is one of many items which changes fairly noticeably in one thousand years.” She levitated a cup of coffee up to her mouth as though all of this was perfectly normal.
“Okay, so,” I said, trying not to panic, “Lots of questions here.”
“I will answer them to the best of my ability. Oh, and please, help yourself to whatever you’d like: We have coffee, tea, and we’ll have food shortly.”
“Mm, thank you. Okay, right: Were you actually in my dream last night, are you actually a princess, who was the taller, sunnier version of you that had the bigger throne; what’s for breakfast, and what did you mean by ‘the night is my domain’ or whatever?” I think my eye twitched at the end there. Might have been the coffee though. Damn good coffee.
Luna glanced up for a moment, head tilted, apparently thinking.
“Mmmm… yes, yes, my sister, Celestia; an eggs benedict bar, and what I meant is what I said: I rule everything that belongs to the night. I have power over it, if you would prefer,” she said at last.
Now it was my turn to absorb everything. So, she could enter dreams, which certainly lent some credence to the “I rule the night, I am Batman” assertion, but that still didn’t really make sense to me. That would essentially make her a goddess. I glanced across the table. Okay, so I could kinda see her being a goddess: Her mane and tail both flowed constantly, like they were floating in water, or as though there was a pony nearby fanning her hair really hard (I checked, no dice on that count). She wore a small, unassuming tiara and a necklace that was essentially a large, rounded plate with a stylized picture of the moon on it. Even her hooves were extra-ordinary, with glinting silver caps which ran lines up her legs.
And, of course, the ever-present smile.
I opened my mouth to speak when there was a knock at the door and a food cart rattled in, trailed by a pony wearing what appeared to be a chef’s jacket. I can’t make this stuff up, folks. I mean, I could, but seriously, a chef’s jacket. Made specifically to fit a pony. Despite the ridiculousness of the situation, the jacket had been tailored well enough to look, if not normal, then normal for the proportions of the pony.
More important than the chef’s jacket, however, was that tray she had brought in. Had I been less hungry, I might have wondered how she’d gotten it up those stairs, but all that my brain could register were fresh english muffins, a pitcher of hollandaise sauce, and, yes, underneath that tureen’s lid were at least a dozen perfectly poached eggs.
Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever had eggs benedict before. Traditionally, it is served with ham in addition to the other three components, but to be perfectly honest, you are there for only one thing: That beautiful, silky hollandaise. Combine its ever-so-slightly lemony goodness, the creamy, almost greasy egg yolk that you hope never unsticks itself from your mouth, and the salty, crunchy english muffin, and suddenly you understand why all your “adult” friends are going out for brunch all the time. Well, okay, there’s the 10 AM booze, too, but dear god, I could bathe in hollandaise and eggs benedict.
“I wasn’t sure how hungry you would be, but I assumed that, given yesterday’s… events, that you would be relatively hungry,” Luna said. She nodded at the chef -- I had to suppress a laugh as Silver Spear popped into my head: “that stupid ‘meaningful head nod.’” -- and she was served a perfect portion of eggs benedict, the whole thing expertly assembled with the chef pony’s mouth serving as hands.
I asked for one as well, and watched in fascination as the pony gripped a slotted spoon expertly with her mouth and maneuvered first an english muffin onto the plate, and then an egg on top of that. Letting go of the spoon, she grabbed the pitcher of sauce with her head sideways, and somehow still managed to pour enough (read: a lot) precisely on the egg to complete the dish. She went to grab the small plate -- again, with her mouth -- and I waved her off, picking up the dish with my hands. It wasn’t even a matter of sanitation, I just felt bad being served like that.
Restaurant service is one thing, but tableside service with a princess feels a bit overboard for me.
I snagged a knife and fork from the cart and sliced into the beautiful little dish. It was only as the yolk spilled out and mixed with the hollandaise, and as I struggled not to inhale that first bite, that I realized how hungry I actually was.
The curiosity and amazement of the past day crumbled beneath that first bite, and before I could really register what was happening, I had finished the whole muffin and its toppings. I looked guiltily over at Princess Luna, who was only one bite in and wore The Smile and eyes which sparkled as she looked at me. The chef, meanwhile, already had another muffin prepared for me. I thanked her as I lifted the second plate onto the table, and I forced myself to eat a bit slower.
“So uh, turns out I was pretty hungry,” I said. We both laughed, and I cut into my second helping. I tried not to stare as Luna floated her own meal up off the plate and delicately up to her mouth. She bit into it, and the sauce and yolk dripped and fell off of the muffin onto… the air. She caught it with unicorn magic? That’s some versatile stuff.
I did my best to not notice the hollandaise also dripping down the princess’ face, little golden drops of deliciousness sliding down her lips and -- I froze as Luna’s eyes caught mine, and her eyes widened slowly. Her english muffin shot back to her plate and as it went down, one of the cloth napkins from the cart shot up, like some kind of breakfast seesaw. She hid her face behind the napkin as she cleaned her muzzle and glanced back at me.
“We do not typically entertain over dinner,” she said, voice slightly muffled by the napkin. “I apologize for not minding my manners more.” I tried to laugh and managed a sort of “balloon being strangled” noise before clearing my throat.
“It’s uh, it’s fine, Your Majesty, I just uh, I, um… I really like hollandaise,” I said. I’m getting tired of saying this, but honest to god, I don’t normally blush. I might have blushed just then, but, BUT -- okay, I don’t have a good explanation for this one. Maybe pretty pony princesses naturally cause blushing.
That ever-present smile reappeared from behind the napkin.
“You need not be nervous,” she said. “I am unsure of how royalty works where you are from, but here, we are merely heads of state.” I glanced around at the apparent luxury on display and looked back at Luna, raising an eyebrow. “Haha, yes, well, there have to be some benefits to protecting the country from magical threats for thousands of years.” The princess thought for a moment. “And only a very few of them were caused by ourselves.”
“Er, I apologize, Your Majesty --”
“I am sorry, Mark: Please, call me Luna. Only dignitaries and enemies call me ‘Your Majesty.’”
“Ah, er, sure, er, Luna. I uh, apologize, I am just… well, I’m new to the world, and trying to figure a lot of stuff out, and… I’m bad with women, especially beautiful ones.” Luna frowned.
“Women?” She asked.
“Oh, uhhhhhh, Maaaares?”
“Ah!” The previous sentence slowly made its way through her head. “Oh! Oh. Well, thank you, Mark.” Silence floated around the table, leaving only the sound of my silverware clattering against the plate. After a few moments, the serving mare made the smallest eye-roll I’ve ever seen, and pulled a small pitcher out from one of the lower levels of the cart. She carefully pony-handled two fluted glasses in front of each us, and snagged the pitcher immediately after. The drink was golden, almost the same color as that lovely, wonderful hollandaise, but it tasted of oranges.
I’ll admit, I would probably have been okay with literally drinking a hollandaise sauce, but the sweetness and slight carbonation of the mimosa was extremely welcome as well. I was a little surprised to find that a world as apparently wholesome as this one had alcohol, but honestly I was more focused on the taste.
Equestrian oranges seemed to have produced a juice that was sweeter than most of the ones I’d tried on Earth, creating a mimosa whose tartness was perfectly balanced by the sweetness. I tried not to moan as I drank.
“You enjoy food quite a lot, it would appear,” said Luna, sipping at her drink.
“Oh, well, I found out fairly recently how much I enjoy cooking,” I said. I took another sip and continued: “It’s made me much more aware of how everything tastes, and -- mmm -- so far what you all have is among the best food I’ve ever had.”
Princess Luna laughed and gestured towards the chef.
“I imagine you shall find the fare elsewhere to be less impressive, though I do believe you have pleased Ms. Whisk. I would guess that it is rare for her cooking to be regarded as excellent between dimensions.” The smaller mare wouldn’t meet our eyes, though there was a tiny hint of a smile on her equine face. “I would imagine, too, that she would be interested in working with anyone with a love of food.” The princess daintily polished off her meal and stood. “Still, I believe that is a conversation for another time. I have spoken with my sister, and we have agreed that, as you seem to pose little threat, you will be afforded every kindness we can offer.”
As Luna spoke, Ms. Whisk retreated quietly out of the room, leaving the cart. “To that end, you will be granted a room in any section of the castle that you would like, given access to the city below, and allowed three meals a day for a month.”
“What happens at the end of the month?” I asked.
“Hopefully, we will have found a solution to your problem by then. If not… well, we will discuss a more permanent solution for you here in Equestria.” I frowned.
“You’re saying you may not be able to send me home? I thought you all had magic and whatnot?” Luna walked over to the room’s one long, elegant window and stared through it.
“My sister knows more of the multiverse than I do.” The alicorn somehow seemed suddenly much older, and more tired. “She… she had more time to explore the many doors that lead from world to world than I have.” She looked back over to me and That Smile (patent pending) returned to her face. “But do not worry, Mark. Between my sister’s knowledge, my own, and that of the Princess of Friendship, we shall undoubtedly find a way to return you to your original life.”
She raised a hoof, waving me forward. I stood up, looked wistfully over at the remaining food -- it was beyond delicious, and apparently interdimensional travel took a lot of caloric energy. That or I just have no self-control. …Probably the latter. But we’ll say it was the magic.
I stepped up next to the Princess and looked out the window. A small city was just waking up below us, though from the height of the room just about everything looked small. It was a startlingly colorful place, despite the overall theme of white architecture. Ponies, practically dots from all the way in the castle, made for a multicolored parade that streamed from building to building and through the streets. Even in the city below, I noticed a weird kind of duality in the progress of society: It was almost as though ponies had discovered modern society and its trends before moving past medieval technology. I suppose you can blame their magic? Even still, the dichotomy was very strange.
Modern-looking buildings were set along cobblestone streets, the only vehicles the occasional -- and again, I swear, this is not a joke -- horse-drawn carriages. Pony-drawn, I guess? I’d say I hate all the linguistic gymnastics, but I’ll be honest, it’s a little fun. At least it’s something to focus on besides “Oh my god I’m stuck in a different dimension where the dominant lifeforms are literal, magical ponies.” Anyways.
“Below you is Canterlot, the jewel of Equestria, and one of the major seats of power,” said Luna. She gestured again, past Canterlot (we’ll laugh at the name later, I promise). “Beyond are the myriad lands that owe allegiance to me and my sister, and, beyond those, other kingdoms, ruled both by ponies and other sentient creatures.”
“I take it that humans are not among those?” I asked. Not that I was particularly interested in meeting any technicolored humans, but they might at least be able to assist me.
“None that anypony here has ever found, and we have had a significant amount of time in which to look.”
“Right.” Luna smiled at me.
“Do not lose faith, Mark. Even in a land invested with magic, we ponies work veritable miracles surprisingly often, and we have all of the best minds in the nation available to us at a moment’s notice.” The princess walked to the door, and I followed after one more glance at the world below. “For now, however, I must rest. It is rare that I stay up this late, and I am certain that you would like to see about acquiring clothing.” She yawned through her smile. “I believe my sister sent for Rarity, a friend and expert tailor. Silver Spear should be waiting at the bottom of the stairs to give you directions. Now --” she paused to yawn once again, “-- I wish you a good morning, Mark Ableman, and perhaps I shall see you tonight.”
The thought of seeing a woman -- mare privately in the evening was enough to make me stammer again, managing a quick goodbye before I was guided out of the solar. Sure enough, waiting at the bottom of the white stone steps was Silver, who caught my embarrassed smile and looked at me strangely.
“Have fun with the Princess of the Night, human?” he asked. I frowned slightly.
“I mean, I’m still pretty confused, but breakfast was excellent,” I said. He frowned back, eyes scanning my face for something, which in retrospect I suppose meant he was looking for innuendo. His frown deepened for a moment, but then he shrugged, and turned to go.
“Come on Mark, we’re gonna go see what Ms. Rarity can do for you.”
***********************************
Screaming was becoming a theme of my time in Equestria. The average pony on the streets of Canterlot ogled me freely -- though, I was certain, more out of confusion and the novelty than any sort of powerful attraction to my thin frame -- but none ran in fear as we made our way down to the Canterlot Carousel, Rarity’s branch in Canterlot.
Rarity herself was a different story.
We stepped into a very plush, well-decorated boutique, and I just about had time to take in the surprising similarity to a custom boutique back home when the screaming started. Okay, okay, so it was more like a high-pitched squealing sound than a scream, but it was still disconcerting. The sound coming out of Rarity’s mouth was as if someone had taken a balloon and stretched the mouth of it so that the air was squeaking out… and then ratcheted that noise up a few octaves.
I winced as Silver led me over to the unicorn/dying balloon animal, and as we approached she seemed to run out of air. I opened my mouth to speak, but before I got the chance, Rarity was in my face, running her eyes across every inch of my nearly naked body, like the world’s most refined butcher.
“Oh. My. Goodness.” Rarity raised and lowered my limbs at random, examining a form she had never tailored for before. “My dear, you have to let me make you two -- no, three -- no, TEN outfits! At least!”
“Uh. I mean, I don’t have any clothing at all, so anything you can spare would be awesome,” I said. “If you just have, like, some spare shirts, or heck, even some pants, I’d be appreciative.” My feet throbbed slightly. Cobblestone streets ain’t fun, boys and girls. “Oh, and shoes, if you… use shoes?”
“Spare clothes?” Rarity looked vaguely horrified, and tutted at me. “Noooo, nononono, that will never do! Noooo, my dear, you, you, something as unique as yourself deserves the best. And I --” The white unicorn puffed her chest out, “-- am the best.” She swept around behind me and began gently pushing me towards the back of the store. “Now, you just come with me, and Silver Spear? We’ll be here for quite awhile, you are free to return to your other duties if you’d like.”
I glanced back at the old guard pony. He nodded at me, mouthed the words “good luck,” and headed for the door. I frowned a little. Luck? Rarity seemed enthusiastic, but no more so than any other individual indulging in their passion. … Okay, maybe a bit more enthusiastic. But still, aside from some occasional discomfort, I’ve always enjoyed watching people in their element, so to speak. I stepped after the white unicorn and into the back room.
“So,” Rarity said, “Tell me everything about human fashion.” She walked over to a table covered in paper, scraps of fabric, tools, and quills, and I watched as one floated up on its own, poised over a blank page.
“I’m uh, gonna be honest, even at my most fashionable, I didn’t know much about what was trendy back home,” I said.
“Not to worry, darling, I’m simply looking for new ideas, anything fresh would be wonderful.”
“Ah, er, okay.” I began awkwardly describing what I knew of human clothing, starting with basics and carefully working up from there. Rarity asked questions, largely about sizing and uses (“You wear the under-clothing all the time?”), but spent the majority of the time sketching and encouraging me to keep going.
Eventually, I ran out of steam, a description of a niche celebrity fashion fading into nothing as I realized I didn’t actually know anything about it. Rarity was standing now, staring at a set of pony mannequins. I was told later, repeatedly, and at length, that these are called “dress forms,” but let’s be real, I didn’t know that. They’re mannequins.
Most of them were wearing a dress that was midway through construction, and one or two were wearing suits, surprisingly sleek things given the pony forms they were made for. All of them, even the ones clearly in a more basic design stage, were incredible. I have some small talents, but this unicorn, this individual without -- and I feel this is important -- opposable thumbs, was making pieces of art that anyone would be thrilled to wear. This led to one obvious question: Why was she bothering to make anything for me?
The unicorn had not been exaggerating; she clearly was one of the best when it came to clothing. My needs were unique in this world, but I was certain there were tailors who could have made me something serviceable. Why send me to a trendsetter? I mean, the royalty could likely do what they wanted, but they had no reason to shower me with luxury. Well. Easy way to find out.
“Rarity? Sorry if this is a rude question, but why are you helping me? I don’t have any money,” I asked. Rarity turned around, blinked at me, and frowned.
“Whatever do you mean? Princess Celestia asked me if I would try to make you clothing. I said yes, of course, and now you’re here,” she said. Her frown grew deeper. “Did you really think we wouldn’t help you? A new… individual in a new land, not to mention a new world? All alone? My dear, the only reason why there aren’t more ponies here to offer you assistance is because the most capable ponies in Equestria are already working on getting you home.” She moved across the room until she was right in front of me, looking slightly up into my face. “We are here for you, Mister… oh my, I don’t believe I ever caught your name.”
“Oh, uh, Mark. Mark Ableman.”
“Well Mr. Ableman, it is wonderful to meet you. And while I don’t know how it works where you are from, here in Equestria, we are kind to strangers. We’re not perfect, naturally, but we can at least give a brand new individual clothing he likes.” Rarity moved back towards the table, quill meeting her as she arrived. “Now then, back to your fashion. You will have to pardon the rather… delicate question, but I do make more… well, intimate creations for the mare or stallion who would like to spice up their… bedside manner.” The unicorn giggled to herself. “To that end, would you be so good as to tell me about your world’s lingerie?” She pronounced that last word with an accent that would have made even French people jealous, and I tried to focus on this fact instead of the actual, patently ridiculous question that this human-sized pony was asking me.
It wasn’t that I had no experience with lingerie. I’d seen plenty, even purchased a set for a previous girlfriend, but, well, come on, it was a bright, white unicorn asking me about the most private clothing that humans have. So uh, yeah, I’d say it was a bit surprising.
“I’m uh, I, uh, that’s a bit --” I sighed. “I’m sorry, just uh, give me a second.”
“Darling, you really do not have to push yourself. If you would prefer not to discuss such things, there really is no need. You have been more than accommodating,” Rarity said, eyes creasing with worry.
“No! No, I’m okay, it’s just a little weird for me. I’d barely discuss this with a close friend, and you’re…”
“A pony?”
“I was going to say ‘stranger,’ but the different race thing probably doesn’t help.” I gave a sort of half laugh. “Sorry, that’s a bit rude, isn’t it?”
“Not all, darling, I completely understand. Even with the colorful and varied individuals here in Equestria, I have never seen anything quite like you. Twilight told us all about her time in another world with creatures like yourself, but it does not sound quite like the world you’ve talked about.” She clapped her front hooves together twice. “For now though! Let us get you measured and outfitted. I’ve taken up quite enough of your time already.” A long tape measure leapt out of a cubby and wrapped itself around my chest, sliding underneath my arms like a fashionable snake.
Chapter 2: The Buck Starts Here
“So, from what I’ve gathered, you need formalwear -- probably a suit -- several sets of casual clothing, several sets of underwear, and… what did you say? Shoes? We wear some items on our feet, when the occasion demands, but none here wear them constantly, as you mentioned. Those will take more time. But for now…” Rarity began moving quickly around me, measuring and running hooves up and down my body in clean, practised motions. My unique body is a non-issue for measurements, I suppose. This was all fine, and a fairly new experience for me -- I wasn’t in the habit of getting anything tailored -- up until the unicorn measured my… hips. Or thighs, or something. Point is, gentle, soft hooves ran their way up underneath the little towel that was preserving my dignity (fragile as that might be after arriving naked and in that gods forsaken potato salad), and right along my butt.
I nearly jumped into the ceiling.
“What’s wrong, my dear? Did I hurt you?” Rarity asked, worry painted across her face.
“Ah, er, no, I just --” I noticed the blush coming back to my face, and wondered vaguely if I could have the blood vessels there surgically removed. “I uh, at home, we -- that’s…” I trailed off, not sure how to explain my reaction in a way that didn’t sound pervy. Fortunately for me, my body made certain that I seemed pervy.
Rarity was staring at me. Down at me. My little towel was imitating a tent, supported by my… tentpole. I know. I’m a master of euphemism. I stammered and tried to back away from the little pony, but she followed me, apparently fascinated.
“My dear, what on Equestria is wrong?” Her voice had taken on a strange tone. She trotted up as my back hit a wall. My towel waggled dangerously. As a paragon of smoothness and general social skills, I said:
“Guh. Buh?”
Nailed it.
Rarity, not fluent in idiot, gently moved the towel aside and stared at my… member.
Real quick: There’s a very fine line between your “genitalia” and your “cock/pussy.” And like so many things in life, it’s all down to context. Girl sucking you off? It’s a cock. Using the bathroom? That’s a penis. We’re skirting that line pretty hard (heh) right now, but if I’m sitting there stammering and blushing, it’s still “my manly bits.”
“What is...?” Rarity’s tape measure, still floating, shot out again and wrapped around my -- wait for it -- steadily hardening cock, apparently measuring. “It seems too small to be…” That finally broke me out of my stupor.
“Oh come on, it’s average at worst!” I said, bringing my hands around to wave off the yellow tape wrapped around me. Before it got close though, a vaguely familiar feeling stopped me mid-movement. Rarity, now staring up at my face, tightened the measure. I shuddered and groaned. She raised an eyebrow and smiled.
“Well, Mark, I have to say, I have been around the block, so to speak, but I’ve never had the pleasure of anypony quite like yourself.” She frowned for a moment. “Anyhuman?”
“Believe me, I’ve been wondering about the same thing this whole time,” I said.
“Oh really,” asked Rarity. Her eyes drooped, and her mouth curled upwards. “Well Mark…” The tape measure tightened around me, and I groaned. I couldn’t help it. She had misunderstood me, but luckily, I was too stupefied to correct her. Eroticism is effective even when it’s a pastel-colored pony. … Apparently. “Luckily for you, I am very interested in… pleasure.” Her head dipped, and as it did, the tape measure wrapped, snake-like, around my cock, and tightened even further.
Her head, and more importantly, her mouth, approached my now-throbbing cock… and stopped. I could feel light, gentle breath brushing against me, and the tough plastic of the measure, but, well, none of what I was expecting. I looked down again to see the pony staring up at me, smiling like a fox.
“I… aren’t you… ?” I managed, gasping. The measure tightened even more, almost to the point of pain. I moaned, enjoying the feeling more than I expected to.
“Aren’t I what, darling?” She blew on the head of my cock. I tried not to scream, managing to groan yet again. The combination of the tape measure, the far-too-gentle stimulation of her breath, and the proximity of a woman -- mare that was getting sexier by the second were driving me mad.
“Are… please…” I whispered. Rarity snaked up next to my face, the side of her butt brushing ever-so-slightly against my member, my arousal starting to actually cause me pain.
“Tell me,” she purred into my ear, “What you want.”
“I want --” I gasped as the unicorn’s butt rubbed against me again. She was so soft. “I want you.”
“Mmmmm…” She trailed down my body, running a hoof across my chest. She arrived once again at my groin, released the tape measure, raised my cock, and gave the underside one long, slow lick. I doubled over and tried to guide Rarity’s mouth where I wanted it, but once again my hands were stopped mid-motion. I just had time to mumble in surprise before that damn tape measure was wrapped around my wrists and pulling them back up above my head. In seconds, I was pinned to the wall. “I want you as well, Mark… but I only play by my rules.”
“I, uh, whatever you say, Rarity, just, please --”
“First, you will call me Ms. Rarity,” she said, walking towards me. “Second… should you want something from me, darling, you need only ask.”
“Please, Ms. Rarity… please suck on it.” Suddenly the unicorn was back at my ear yet again, running a hoof slowly up and down my cock, but barely touching it.
“Close,” she murmured. She took her hoof away and I groaned. “But I’m not sure you really meant it… maybe if you… begged.”
“Please, Ms. Rarity, please, please suck my cock. I’ll do whatever you want, I just need you right now.” As I finished the sentence, she dropped her head back down, and, without warning, slid her mouth around my shaft. She turned her eyes up to meet mine, and I lost all control. Her tongue, her face, and the odd, exotic eroticism were far too much.
I came. Hard. My knees buckled, but the tape measure kept me held in place and dug into my wrists; the counterpoint offered by this sudden pain made my orgasm even more intense and I yelled out as Rarity calmly and expertly sucked up every drop of my cum.
As my shuddering stopped and my Equestria-rattling orgasm subsided, Rarity released my cock with a small pop noise, eliciting one final shudder from myself.
“Well now…” she said, wiping at a corner of her mouth. “You seemed to enjoy enjoy that. Do mares where you’re from not know how to please a man?” I laughed nervously, trying to catch my breath.
“They uh… hoo… they don’t pay me much attention, to be honest,” I said.
“Whyever not?” She looked me up and down, as if she hadn’t gotten a good look at me before sucking me dry. “I will admit that I’m not a good judge per se, but I hardly think you’re unattractive.” I tried, very, very hard to not raise an eyebrow at the -- and I feel, once again, that this is an important point -- bright white unicorn who had never seen a human before today.
“I… thank you, Rarity,” I said, not meeting her eyes. The tape measure still had me pinned to the wall, or I likely would have tried curling up into a ball. There was silence between us for a moment, and then I felt two soft points pressing against my chest. I looked up and was instantly caught in a very wet (and slightly salty) kiss. A few breathless moments later, she pulled back, smiled gently, and said:
“That’s Ms. Rarity, my little toy.” Even through my sudden ego deflation, my Little Penis that Could rose to the occasion. “And you have yet to please me.” I felt something grip my cock as it stiffened once again, and it took me a moment to realize that she was gripping me with her -- and I gotta say, this is still really god damn weird -- unicorn magic. It tingled pleasantly, but otherwise felt like a sort of… porous hand. Air got through, and so my head and shaft were still cooling (the leftover saliva made for an excellent coolant), but as I gasped, it felt as though a delicate, gentle hand was massaging me back to life.
“Ohhhh god, Ms. Rarity, that feels so good,” I moaned. Her lips met mine again, and I felt something warm and very, very wet rub against my cock. It twitched, and my whole body twitched with it, already reacting strongly to this ridiculously sexy unicorn.
“I’m glad, little toy,” she said. “But, unfortunately… I’m not worried about you.” Rarity retreated from me, strutting back towards the table.
“Hey, uh, Rarity, I hate to kill the mood, but I’m starting to lose feeling in my arms.” I wiggled my hands ineffectually.
“Oh! I am so sorry, my dear, let me help you with that.” As she spoke, the tape measure slid down the wall and loosened somewhat, giving me just enough play to allow me to readjust with my hands behind my back. I sighed with relief. “Better?”
“Yup, thanks, I can feel my hands again,” I said, laughing.
“Well that’s excellent…” Rarity’s voice descended into “sultry” ranges once again. “Because I need my toy feeling good if he’s going to please me.”
“Mm, of course, Ms. Rarity, anything you want.” Rarity turned back towards the table, flipped her head towards me over her shoulder, and gave me the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen. Her curled, purple tail shifted slightly, and there, glistening where I was nearly certain there had been nothing before, was a very wet pussy.
“I want you, toy,” she said, “To rut me until I cum.” Were it possible for my cock to get any harder, it would have done so then. The mare walked back towards me, managing with no shoes and four legs an unbelievable emulation of a woman strutting in high heels, and stopped just in front of my face. “But what do you want, little plaything?”
“I want to… rut you until you cum, Ms. Rarity,” I said calmly. She smiled, and slowly, gently turned on the spot. Her coat barely (but very deliberately) rubbed along my throbbing cock as she spun, and after a moment I was head to labia with her dripping pussy.
“Well?” she said. “Don’t let me stop you.” I hardly needed the encouragement. I thrust forward, right into… nothing. Rarity had shifted slightly forward as well, bringing her juuuuust far enough that only the the head of my cock was pressing against her, and even then, only barely.
“I… Ms. Rarity, I can’t reach you if you move away from me.” I struggled against the tape measure, hoping it had loosened or simply freed me, so I could fuck Rarity in earnest.
“What’s this? All these promises, and yet when it comes time to deliver, you claim you can’t do it?” Rarity tutted. “I really must do everything, musn’t I.” I felt her lean back, and I groaned as my cock finally slid inside her pussy… and stopped halfway in. Rarity watched me over her shoulder as if waiting for something. “Well? I’ve met you halfway, so to speak. Aren’t you going to please your mare?”
I struggled against the measure, but after a moment found that, if I let it dig into my wrists slightly, I could pull far enough forward to thrust fully into the beautiful unicorn in front of me. There was a round of gasping and moaning from both sides as I began furiously pounding into Rarity as fast as I could manage.
The mare’s pussy was somehow better than any woman’s back home (alright, fair’s fair: I haven’t been with too many women, but still, it was great). I could have been imagining it, but it seemed wetter than anything I’d ever seen before, and Rarity was, apparently, an expert at working her… intimate muscles.
Each thrust was a pleasurable burst of pain, but as I tried to pull back, Rarity’s walls clenched around me, sucking at my cock and making it difficult to retreat enough to thrust again. I groaned in frustration and enjoyment, and I heard a small, throaty chuckle from her as she realized the effect she was having.
Even through the restraint from both sides, I was coming dangerously close to exploding. I tried to thrust harder, digging the tape measure further into my wrists, but as I did… Rarity walked forward, just out of reach. I cried out in frustration and thrust instinctually into nothing while the unicorn just stared at me, smiling and licking her lips.
“Little toy…” she growled, “Didn’t I tell you already? You’re here for my pleasure now.” I felt the tape measure move, pulling me down the wall. “Now… if you can make me cum, then we’ll see about your little problem.” I slid awkwardly to keep up with the measure -- and, by extension, my own wrists -- until I was sitting, hands resting on the floor. After a moment, the measure loosened, and one hand came free. Before I had a chance to relax, however, my still-wrapped hand dragged me sideways, and slowly pulled me onto my back. A second measure appeared out of nowhere to recapture my other hand, and as I tried half-heartedly to struggle against it, Rarity stepped over my face. A very specific part of her was over my face, actually.
I moaned as she dripped onto my cheek.
“I certainly hope you’re hungry, new toy,” she said. And before I could answer, I was being smothered by her sopping, pulsing pussy.
She was delicious. I didn’t know quite what to expect, but I can tell you I wasn’t expecting salt mixed with a sort of sweet, floral flavor. A bit like Turkish Delight, actually, though with less emphasis on the rosy flavor. I shoved as much of my face into her Delightful (you’re welcome) pussy as I could manage, drinking up the juices that were already flowing freely from her folds. Rarity gasped, even her moans sounding utterly feminine and adorable, and I took that as a cue to flick my tongue upwards. I didn’t know if ponies had clits, and I certainly didn’t know where those would be, but I was rewarded with a cry, a sudden, hard push against my tongue, and a small squirt spraying my face.
Never one to relinquish an advantage, I tilted my face up, trying to get a better angle on whatever it was that Rarity was enjoying so much. I found a likely nub with my lips and struck, locking my lips around it and rolling it with my tongue. The mare above me screamed and began humping my face, reaching down with a hoof to force me against her clit as firmly as possible. Her breath sped up, becoming a sort of squeak, and just as I was wishing I had my hands free so I could finish her off, she lifted away from my face. I opened my eyes, but before I could form a question, I felt a tingle that was getting a little too familiar wrap around my shaft. I groaned as I felt my cock get pulled straight up, and gasped as Rarity slipped me inside her.
“Oh go-o-d, Rarity!” I yelled. “I’m already so close! Please, fuck me harder!” The mare froze on top of me, her pussy dripping around my hilt.
“It’s Miss Rarity, my toy. I’m afraid you’re going to have suffer a bit for forgetting,” said Rarity, a wicked smile growing on her face. “Now, I’m sorry to say, you aren’t allowed to cum until I say so.”
“Rarity, I --” She cut me off with a kiss, tongue stifling any arguments.
“No arguments, darling.” A string of saliva trailed between our mouths, broke, and our combined spittle dripped onto my chest. As if it was a starting shot, Rarity began frantically humping me, pussy clenching and squelching.
“Rarity, I’m already --”
“No no no, new toy, I didn’t say you could -- ah -- cum just yet.” She tightened around me, but I sucked in my breath, trying not to explode just yet. It was a close-run thing. Rarity, meanwhile, was gasping, breathing faster and faster. Her tongue lolled out as she bounced on my cock, and, well, that was about all I could take. Watching this mare, this strange but wonderful new female, as she so utterly lost herself in pleasure…
I thought my last orgasm had been powerful, but this… Frankly, I’m surprised I survived it. My mouth opened, and I realized after a few seconds that I was yelling as I came. My eyes rolled back in my head, and my whole body shook. I was vaguely aware of something similar happening to the unicorn on top of me.
She screamed in tandem with me, constricting around my cock as I pumped wave after wave of cum into her, and cumming right alongside me. We both came down slowly, little shots of pleasure shaking us like the aftershocks of a major earthquake.
“Well that was…”
“Quite a lot of fun?” Rarity suggested. I laughed, still breathing hard.
“Well yes, definitely that,” I said. “But I was gonna say ‘unexpected,’ despite the cliche.” She rolled off of me and I felt the tape measures around my wrists go slack. The unicorn laughed.
“Yes darling, that certainly was unexpected… as was that finish. I do believe I said you were not allowed to cum until I said so,” she said. She smiled over at me, eyes still only half open.
“I uh… sorry. You’re really, really hot, Ms. Rarity.” And it was true. I hadn’t thought it when I came to this world, and I hadn’t given it much thought even as it happened, but, well, fucking was believing, I supposed. Rarity, with sweat-slicked mane and my cum dripping out of her mouth and pussy, was probably the hottest female I’d ever slept with. And she had initiated it. Strange world, Equestria.
Rarity giggled.
“You’re quite the looker yourself, Mr. Ableman,” she said. She got slowly to her feet and looked around the room. “Oh dear. We’ve made quite a mess, haven’t we?” Her horn glowed and her face furrowed, and a dense, purple fog began to fill the room. As soon as it had entirely filled the room, and I was beginning to worry about potential health effects of inhaling literal magic gas, there was a sharp exhalation, and the fog vanished.
Rarity was still where she had been, and was still trying to get her breath back, but the room and herself looked as though she hadn’t spent the last… however long it had been, fucking and getting fucked very, very hard.
“A little trick Twilight helped me work up after the last few times my sister came to stay with me,” Rarity said, managing to say “sister” like both an insult and a compliment in one word, as all true siblings are able to do. “Now, I do hate to, as they say -- ‘rut and run’ -- but I really do want to get started on making you clothing, and I can’t keep the shop closed all day.” I scrambled to my feet, penis flapping wild and free without even the towel to keep it in check.
“Oh, geez, I’m sorry Rarity, I didn’t mean to interrupt business, I just wanted to --” I stopped as she raised a hoof at me.
“No apologies, Mark. I wanted that as badly as you did, and besides, I am the owner. I technically could keep the shop closed all day, I’d just like to get to work on the challenge that is your body.” She grinned at me. “Though I suppose I have already begun that particular endeavor.” My towel flew in from wherever it had ended up in the… fracas, and it tied itself neatly around my waist once again.
“Er, at the risk of sounding… forward? Rude? Was this a one time thing, or…” I trailed the question away, not really liking how the sentence had come out, but Rarity just laughed.
“My dear, dear Mark… you owe me. You didn’t listen to my very explicit instructions so I would be offended, nay, scandalized if you did not return soon --” And here her eyes closed a bit, “ -- to rut me like the fine, two-legged stallion that you are.” I smiled in relief. “And really, dear, you must be more confident in yourself. You are very cute, but if you don’t put yourself out there, how will any mare know to look?”
I didn’t know quite how to respond to that. Confidence had never been a strong suit, but I hadn’t really worried about it. Of course, having a beautiful mare fuck you senseless was a pretty effective way to get you to pay attention, so I at least tried to take it to heart. Inside, anyways. Outside, I just shrugged half-heartedly.
“I’ve never really been told I was worth much,” I said. “Makes it pretty tough to then think of myself as being worth noticing, much less worth sleeping with.” Rarity’s face went stern.
“Darling, I work hard on looking good --” She gestured around the shop. “-- As you can tell, but at the end of the day, the reason everypony believes in my work is my attitude.” Her face softened back into a smile. “Bu-u-ut, I am realizing that now might not be the right time for this conversation.” She shook slightly and took a deep breath. “For now dear, I will get to work on your clothing. I should have your first set of clothing ready by tomorrow and…” She mumbled under her breath for a moment. “Ye-es, yes, I should have the rest ready by next week.”
“I… is there something I can do for you? In payment?” I asked. I was barely happy accepting gifts (much as I liked them), and -- while I desperately needed clothes -- I felt terrible having Rarity do so much for nothing.
“Mark. I told you, you needn’t worry about payment. If you really want to do something for me, mention to anypony who asks where you acquired your accoutrements.” Again, the unicorn affected a French accent on top of her usual one, pronouncing the final word like “uh-coo-treh-mon.”
“If… if you’re sure, Rarity,” I said. “I still feel bad about it.” She waved a hoof at me as she walked me back into the main showroom.
“Darling, I really don’t know what else to tell you. Frankly, I’d imagine that, at the very least, our… liaison would have built some trust between us,” she said.
“No! I mean! Yes, of course! But -- I -- dear god I’m bad at this.”
“Honestly Mark, I don’t mind. In fact, it is my pleasure --” and here she smacked my ass, which (while maybe deserved) caused me to jump a little, “-- to craft something for you. So please, please don’t worry about it, darling.”
“I… alright. I’ll find a way to make it up to you eventually.”
“I’m sure you will, darling.” She turned back towards her work room and stopped herself. “Oh, I nearly forgot: Where are you staying? Do you need somewhere to stay?”
“Oh, no, the, erm, Princesses are letting me stay in the castle for the time being.”
“The castle? Well I do always love to visit the castle; the beautiful architecture, the stunning tapestries… and the rather thick walls.” She smirked at me. “I’ll see you soon, Mark.”
I think I managed to mumble a goodbye, but I was pretty flustered at that point. I shuffled over to the exit, readjusting the towel that had done absolutely nothing to protect my modesty (such modesty as I had, at least).
Author's Note
Sixteen pages of setup for nine pages of bangin'... and it wasn't even with Luna. I'm ripping myself off with my own smut.
