“What in...?” Apple Bloom said once her guts had finished turning inside-out, trying valiantly not to retch. She had no sooner closed her eyes and clutched her grandma’s back when a sense of magical manipulation and an accompanying wave of vertigo passed through her, leaving her feeling like she’d just been spun around a dozen times and then somehow squeezed through a pipe. When she opened her eyes again, she realized she was no longer in the house but in an outlying storage shed in the orchards, well away from her corrupted kin.

“Easy, young ‘un. It’s hard on a pony the first time they travel that way,” her grandmother’s voice sounded reassuringly from behind her, helping her back to her hooves. “Take deep breaths. The dizziness’ll pass.”

Apple Bloom obeyed as best she could, gulping down air and feeling her vertigo slowly recede, which had at least temporarily driven off the lurid ideas and growing excitement Fluttershy’s stare had been trying to impart on her. She focused instead on the sensation of her grandmother’s hoof resting on and rubbing her back, though she thought it felt a little odd through her fur. “There’s a good filly. Better?” Granny Smith asked.

“Better. Thanks, Granny. But how did we…?” She got her answer when her eyes focused enough to behold her grandmother’s glowing green eyes in the shadows of the shed, making her guts clench anew. Knowing she was found out, Granny Smith stepped forth into the light of the moon to show her bark-covered lower body and that the last half of her limbs were made of leaves and branches, twisting themselves into facsimiles of oversized canine paws, just like Applejack and Big Macintosh’s had been!

Apple Bloom stood frozen in shock for a moment. She gaped. She shook. And then, certain she was doomed, she opened her mouth to shriek only for her granny to quickly clamp a wooden paw over her mouth.

“Don’t. Scream,” she ordered in no uncertain terms. “Timberwolf or no, Ah’m yer granny, and Ah’d never hurt ya. If you scream, they’ll hear, so ya gotta stay quiet. Now will ya?” she spelled out, waiting for her still-trembling granddaughter to give a jerky nod before letting her go and stepping back, giving her space.

“B-but… h-how…?” Apple Bloom’s voice shook as hard as her body, trying to not let a sense of unreasoning terror overwhelm her as she found herself backing away, only stopping when she was against the far wall. “Are you… l-like them?” she asked, sparing a glance between her grandmother’s legs to see if she had a stallionhood too, but was scarcely less alarmed to see that she didn’t.

“Calm down, Apple Bloom. Whatever happened to them ain’t happened to me,” Granny Smith, or the half-Timberwolf creature she’d turned into, promised, though Apple Bloom was not at all reassured as her grandmother caused a plant tendril to grow from the wooden floor at their hooves, the tip generating a slow stream of water seemingly pulled from the ground itself that began filling a discarded mug that was resting on a workbench. “This is just the way Ah am. In fact... it’s the way all we Apples are,” she admitted, reversing her transformation to let Apple Bloom see it was her, her limbs reverting and the green glow of her eyes ceasing as she offered her granddaughter the mug.

Despite that, Apple Bloom didn’t immediately take it, still staring warily if no longer as fearfully. “Ah didn’t want ya to learn this way. In fact, Ah hoped it might have skipped a generation like it sometimes does. But this is our family’s curse… and our greatest gift,” she told her greatest granddaughter. “We’ve got Timberwolf magic in our blood, Apple Bloom. It’s what makes us so hardy and so good with trees… and allows me to live so long. This is just water; Ah swear it won’t hurt ya.” She gently pushed the cup across the table to Apple Bloom.

With that, the teenaged filly took the mug and a very tentative sip, finding the water cool and refreshing and somehow perfectly filtered. “Th-then that story about Great Grampy Apple Harvest…?” She gave her granny an askance look as she took a deeper draw of the drink.

“It was true,” Granny Smith nodded. “It got into the family when he got bit. But the difference is, he got consumed by it and had to be locked up whenever he transformed. But me? Once Ah found out Ah could do it, Ah learned to master it… with a little help. And in time, you and yer siblings can too.”

“Wait… then ya mean… Ah’m one too…?” Apple Bloom swallowed, wondering if she was going to turn into the same sex-crazed monsters her siblings had.

Granny hesitated but finally gave her the unvarnished truth. Honesty ran in her blood as much as Applejack, and she knew there was no point in hiding it. “Probably. But whatever happened to Applejack and Big Macintosh to change ‘em weren’t natural, never mind those… enhancements they had. Don’t know what that was about.” She grimaced as she looked out the window in the direction of the house, then put her nose to the breeze blowing off the Everfree and sniffed.

“There’s somethin’ odd the air all right. Ain’t never scented that before…” she frowned as the wind picked up further, and Apple Bloom realized she could feel it too; an unfamiliar energy she could sense more than smell. Its presence caused another sexual stirring from deep within with the teenaged filly, her immature teats tightening on her belly as the cool breeze teased them to hardness.

“So what we can do?” she asked, shifting uncomfortably, her thoughts turning sensual as they shifted from her siblings to her fellow Crusaders and then to Spike in quick succession. This REALLY ain’t the time… “We gotta stop ‘em before they do Celestia-knows-what to somepony else!”

“Ah know. Now listen, young ‘un… Ah want you and yer friends to find somewhere to hide and stay there. Ah ain’t sure what’s going on but until we figure out how to help ‘em and who else is affected, better to be safe than sorry.”

Apple Bloom nodded jerkily at that. “Well, reckon we can go to the clubhouse…”

“No!” Granny Smith said emphatically. “Not the clubhouse! They ain’t so far gone they’d forget to look for you there! Go to Zecora’s place instead. It’s magically protected against Timberwolves,” she recalled. “Now let’s find yer friends. Any idea where they went?”

Apple Bloom thought about that, finding it difficult to focus due to her lingering fear and low-level excitement, not quite being able to shake the idea of Fluttershy hypnotizing her into having sex with her. She wondered how her pointed bat-pony teeth would have felt against her neck, nipping and nibbling along the edge of her ears as a prelude to doing the swirl. She was REALLY good-sized, too… her eyes went distant as she remembered the size and shape of Fluttershy’s stallionhood, at least a foot long. And both AJ ‘n Big Mac were even bigger and looked like they had canine knots… she involuntarily licked her lips, her mind going in various heady directions she couldn’t quite stop.

“Apple Bloom?” her granny nudged her when she didn’t immediately respond. “Ah know this is a lot to take in. You okay, filly?”

“Oh! Um… yeah. Reckon they went to this hedge on the edge of Everfree. We used it as a clubhouse before the Treehouse. We’ve hid out there before when there was trouble or we wanted privacy.” Most recently during some of our sessions with Spike… a vivid image of her first time with him there crossed her mind. She’d been the first of the CMC to bed him, and it had been a surprise to both when it happened. Neither of them had planned it or even been thinking it; he’d been forlorn over Rarity at the time, despondent when he found out that she was seeing Applejack and finally had to accept she had no interest in him. And then one thing led to another and… her marehood involuntarily winked at the memory. “Since we still hang out there sometimes, we’ve got some supplies there too.”

“Take ‘em with you. I’ll get you to this hedge, and then you three make like bandits for Zecora’s house! Stick to the path and you should be okay. Ah’ll make sure ya ain’t followed.”

“Will do, but then what are you gonna do…?” Apple Bloom asked, trying not to flinch as her grandmother transformed again in preparation for the trip through the underground roots of their apple orchards, which came up right to the edge of the Everfree.

Granny turned her green-glowing eyes off into the distance as Apple Bloom climbed on her back. “Try to find out what in the hay’s happening here. Capture those three if I can—reckon Ah know a few Timberwolf tricks they don’t—and get help for ‘em if Ah can’t. But don’t you worry about me. You see to yerself and yer friends, young filly. When everything’s set right, Ah’ll come to Zecora’s place and get ya mahself.”

“Thanks, Granny,” she replied as her grandmother phased into the ground, a very surreal experience and no less nauseating for having already endured it once. Ah just hope Spike’s okay… was the last thought she had before having to squeeze her eyes tightly shut again and a renewed sense of vertigo scattered all her thoughts.

Spike was afraid to stand up.

As he sat at a table in Sugar Cube corner, one located in the center of the shop that overlooked everything and would allow him to quickly see and react to a Timberwolf incursion, he found he cared progressively less about the danger they presented than his stubbornly insistent erections and increasingly persistent arousal, one that was demanding his attention and forcing him to his clench his fists and drive his talons into his palms to keep from stroking himself whenever a mare walked by. He’d caught himself starting to do that at least twice, both times when Mrs. Cake had brought him a fresh Nightmare Night-themed orange-and-black-swirled doughnut with black frosting and garnished with his favorite ruby sprinkles, thanking him repeatedly for standing guard along with a half-dozen other Nightmare revelers who had taken shelter in the store, seeking safety in numbers.

His eyes flitting about nervously, he tightened the belt sash on his Bittish overcoat again as a precaution, but it wouldn’t hide much now. His immature organs, which had been perfect in size for the CMC but likely not, he knew, enough for a full-grown mare, had twitched and throbbed at her approach, causing his cheeks to go warm as he repeatedly entertained and tried just as hard to suppress a sudden image of burying them both in her while he grasped her well-rounded backside right on her cupcake cutie marks.

I think I get now what colts mean when they talk about MILTs—Mothers I’d Love to Tuck... he thought as she passed him again with a tray for another table and found himself admiring her matronly form and pleasingly plump body, which held his interest even more than the other mares present. In fairness, her costume might have had something to do with it—she was dressed in the distinctive robes and sash of Neighponese attire and had even had Rarity do up her mane into a bun and add some makeup, making her look quite exotic and even desirable. You know, it’s been a while since I’ve eaten Neighponese… the odd thought had crossed his mind quickly followed quickly by its double meaning. He blinked and shook his head hard at where his fantasies had just gone, his dual dragonhoods only stiffening further for it, now standing up almost perfectly rigid in his lap.

He’d fought it as long as he could, trying to think of anything else—the Timberwolves, the CMC, his worry for Fluttershy, his next visit to the dragon lands and Ember scheduled in just a few weeks. But his thoughts invariably turned sexual again, and when Mrs. Cake brought him a hot chocolate with diamond dust froth and gave him an affectionate nuzzle and thank-you kiss on the forehead, his hardness had all but burst out of his Bittish overcoat and his hips had involuntarily bucked, scraping his tapered heads on the table’s slightly-less-polished undersides, the rough texture making him leak some clear fluid until a particularly rough bit ground him back into reality.

Despite the momentary pain he felt, it had been all he could do to not pounce her right then and there, not even caring that she was married and a mother... or that it was not only a public place with a dozen other ponies present, but that Mister Cake was in the back and would find them even if she was by some incredible length amenable to his advances.

What the buck is WRONG with me? he asked himself over and over as the urges only grew stronger and his mug shook in his grasp, hoping and praying that matters with Fluttershy and the Timberwolves could be resolved quickly so he could spend his tension on the CMC, who he knew were having a post-Nightmare Night sleepover in their clubhouse. Hope they’re safe over there. Maybe I should be protecting them instead? If I left now and ran the whole way, I could be there in ten minutes… he calculated, wishing his wings wouldn’t wait for adolescence to grow in. Would take only one or two then and I could swoop in to save them like a Knight in Shining Armor…

But his sense of honor held firm, as well as his promise to Pinkie Pie, deciding he couldn’t leave the Cakes plus their twin foals in potential danger. I can’t leave Mrs. Cake… he reminded himself, turning his eyes on her again. No sooner had he done so then he could have sworn she flagged her tail at him from the coffee machine as he watched, but he didn’t have time to confirm it before she accidentally and very uncharacteristically dropped a tray of drinks she was filling, the loud clatter causing Mister Cake to come running from the back.

“Everything okay, honeybunch?” he asked as he rushed downstairs, matching his wife’s Nightmare Night costume theme by dressing up in the armor and other attire of an ancient Neighponese swordpony.

“Oh, um… yes, everything’s fine…” she rubbed the back of her head with a hoof, her cheeks flushed from what Spike assumed was embarrassment as she began picking up the dropped mugs. “I’m just a little clumsy, it seems,” she said with a furtive glance over at the young dragon—or did he imagine it?

“Let me help…” Spike offered, the sound of a clattering tray and spilling drinks having broken the spell and suppressed his excitement at least for a moment, his organs retreating back inside his coat to his mingled disappointment and relief. “Least I can do for all the free drinks and food,” he told them as he gathered up the mugs and put them on the tray, catching a quick whiff of vanilla, which was odd given there were no shakes or other sweet drinks in the order she was filling that would have had it.

“Oh! Um, that’s v-very kind of you, dearie,” Mrs. Cake granted, her cheeks still warm, realizing with a frown she’d spilled some coffee on her beautiful kimono around her apron.

“Anytime! I got this, Mister Cake. You go keep watch on the twins until the all-clear sounds, and I’ll keep an eye on things up front! Just shout if you need me, and I’ll come running!” He kept the tray in front of him to hide his renewed erection, which was returning just as fast as it had gone from proximity to Mrs. Cake alone, trying to will him away.

“Really do appreciate you being here, Spike,” Mister Cake told him with a smile as he ruffled his head scales with a hoof, a sentiment quickly echoed by the other patrons of the store. “We feel a lot safer with you around...” his voice trailed off and he frowned like an odd thought or idea had just crossed his mind, his hoof remaining on Spike’s head for another second before almost reluctantly withdrawing it and heading back upstairs.

“My pleasure, Mister C! Just happy to help…” he assured him as he went behind the counter to drop the mugs in the dishwashing bins and get the mop and bucket, as much to distract himself as to be helpful.

“No, I’ll do that, dear. It’s my mess; I’ll clean it up,” Mrs. Cake waved him off as she walked behind the counter with him to replace her apron and get a fresh tray and mugs to refill the drink order, her proximity and a casual brush of her tail sending a fresh wave of unlikely—and no longer unwelcome—excitement through him. An excitement she seemed to share, unable to stop looking at him as her gaze repeatedly flitted from his eyes to his crotch, which only swelled further under her scrutiny and obvious interest to become a very conspicuous and barely concealed bulge. Her cheeks flushed and she licked her lips; whatever doubts or confusion she was having slowly fading just by being in his presence...

Just as his were increasingly forgotten just by being in hers. “You don’t have to…” he tried telling her, stepping fractionally closer to her. He had no idea why he wanted her in the worst possible way but found the urges ever-more irresistible, a need that simply had to be indulged. He tried to feel alarmed at where things were going; he tried to remind himself of the possible consequences of what he was contemplating. But his unrelenting and ever-increasing excitement coupled with the sweet scent of vanilla in the air finally overcame his inhibitions.

“You’re truly a dear, but I should do it myself, Spike…” she tried again to leave but found she couldn’t, compelled to stay in his presence, the heat of her body and intensity of her desires growing by the second the longer she stayed in his presence.

“If you insist…” he said almost huskily, now fully recognizing and reveling in the effect he was having on her. “But first…” He allowed himself to experimentally stroke his hardness through his coat in front of her, teasing her, drawing a taloned finger across one of his hidden lengths as she watched. She took a shuddering breath in response and her cheeks went even more flushed; at least twice she started to lower her head for a kiss or reach out a hoof for him only to catch herself, though she found herself moving ever closer to him with each time. Encouraged by Spike’s increasingly brazen display, her surging desires likewise overcame her faltering will, leaving her swaying unsteadily on her feet and wriggling her rump in discomfort, suddenly wanting out of her costume—and the young dragon within her—in the worst possible way.

Spike noticed her starting to tug at her Neighponese attire and his heart leaped at the opportunity it presented. “I’ll leave you to it, then. But you know, you should really get out of that costume before you spill anything else on it...” without thinking, he reached out to pull the sash on her Neighponese attire, which he did with exaggerated slowness as she took a second, even more ragged breath, watching without resistance or even much disbelief as he slid the garment right off her, letting it fall at her side and leaving her in all matronly glory.

“And you shouldn’t be mopping in that nice overcoat…” she responded as her eyes remained fixed on the large and still-growing bulge beneath his costume jacket, her hoof reaching for his belt.

Pinkie Pie had barely been put into slumber by Starlight’s sleep spell before the unicorn mare turned to Trixie, each breathing slightly raggedly and covered in a thin sheet of sweat, the sweet and all but intoxicating aroma of cotton candy still hanging in the air making the heads swim and their desires surge.

Its effects were not lost on Starlight. It’s still trying to get us… I gotta do something NOW! “Trixie… hold still!” Starlight ordered as she first brought up a stiff breeze to cleanse the air of the corrupt but potent power within it, trying hard to ignore its effects on her tingling teats and swelling marehood. She then turned her spellcasting on her and her flushed-cheek friend, attempting to purge her of aural influences as she’d just done to herself.

It was surprisingly difficult to do; the dark energies were extremely resilient and even somehow sticky, a miasma in the air that clung stubbornly to them both. But anypony who knew Starlight knew she was equally stubborn and resourceful, especially when it came to magic, and with her power and persistence, she finally banished the foreign magic from them both. “Better?” she asked her friend and lover as she felt her arousal ebb to her great relief.

“Trixie is okay,” the showmare confirmed with a ragged breath and jerky nod, still amazed and appalled at what she’d been thinking of doing, unable to look at an unconscious Pinkie Pie. I was ready to suckle a teat and eat her OUT! she shuddered and then watched as Starlight turned her considerable power directly on their earth pony friend, trying to cure her magical malady only to find she couldn’t.

What IS this thing? I can’t dispel it! she thought in frustration as she tried several spells in succession over the next few minutes, each more powerful and draining than the last, only to find the corruptive magic had its roots in Pinkie Pie too deeply. It resisted all her efforts to eliminate it, and she finally fell back onto her haunches in defeat, the futile effort wearing her out and leaving a headache in its wake

“Here, Starlight…” Trixie noticed and materialized her friend an ether potion from her wagon. “Drink this.” Though not legal for her to make as they were made from certain Everfree flowers that had to be carefully processed and purified to rid them of wild and unpredictable forest magic, making and selling them under the table was how Trixie supported herself more than her shows. They were something she took before performances to restore or boost her power, offering a gold-glowing vial for the same purpose to Starlight, who quickly drank it and then gulped down some cool water from a thermos Trixie materialized next, sighing with relief as she felt her headache recede and her full power restored.

“Thanks, Trixie,” she said as she threw back her cloak hood and rubbed her temples to disperse the last of the pain. Though she normally shunned such restoratives and didn’t entirely approve of Trixie making them, she was no stranger to rule-breaking and admitted the showmare was unquestionably good at it. She also didn’t abuse them... or sell them to those who would. “Whatever this is, I can’t cure her with my magic alone.”

“So Trixie sees. But what happened to her? What nearly happened to us?” she asked with a shudder, remembering again how close she’d been to giving in to the unnatural urges, ones she would never have considered before. Sure, Pinkie was nice to Trixie when nopony else was, especially after what Trixie did to her using the Alicorn Amulet. But to then turn around and RUT her…? Suddenly her certainty wasn’t so solid.

Now that she could think clearly and had been given a few more pieces of the puzzle, Starlight didn’t take long to guess an answer. “Trixie… I think we’re dealing with an STC.”

The showmare gave her an odd look. “A... what?”

“An STC is a ‘Sexually Transmitted Curse’, Starlight clarified, her voice grim. “They can be thought of as magical diseases that spread sensually. I’ve never seen one before, but I’ve read about them. Enough to know they’re rare and don’t generally spread that far or fast because ponies can only have so many partners. When they’re discovered, they’re easy to stop simply because they do spread so slowly and require a constant flow of new hosts to remain active. To beat it, you simply quarantine and if necessary sedate the afflicted to deprive it of new hosts and let the curse run its course.”

Trixie’s brow furrowed. “Trixie has never heard of such a thing!”

“I’d be surprised if you had, given how unusual they are. They’re barely a footnote in most magical affliction books.” Starlight stared down at a still-sleeping Pinkie Pie, her stasis spell keeping them safe from the clearly contagious curse. “Their means of being passed from pony to pony are very unique. Some induce desire in their hosts as a means of spreading themselves faster; others are known to make their hosts more desirable in order to do so. But they’re typically quite subtle about it and can’t infect other ponies until their host has sex with them. But this one…?” She motioned down at an unconscious Pinkie, who was still wearing a dreamy expression.

“Judging by how we reacted just now, this seems to work by causing intense infatuation and overwhelming arousal in not just its host, but those around it. It releases this... magical pheromone or something that just requires you to be in its presence to affect you.” She shuddered, suddenly realizing how incredibly dangerous such a curse could be. As indiscriminate as it appears, you could end up with brothers rutting sisters or mothers screwing their own sons...

“Fine, but… where did it come from?” a nervous Trixie asked, breaking into her thoughts. “And assuming it was responsible, how did it transform Applejack?”

“I had to have been the cider,” Starlight answered, picking back up the interrupted chain of thought she’d been following before Pinkie Pie’s appearance. “It was made from Everfree apples, so I’m guessing it was a bad batch containing corrupt forest magic. It must have been enough to activate some inactive Timberwolf magic in AJ as well.”

To her credit, Trixie picked out the hole in that theory instantly. “But Starlight, that doesn’t make sense! We had the cider too! Our drinks came out of the same cask as everypony else, so we had the same batch! But we weren’t affected until just now!” the showmare pointed out, resisting the strangely compelling urge to give a courtroom-style objection.

Starlight blinked, and then facehooved at her own misdirected conclusion. “So it couldn’t have been the cider…” she mumbled in annoyance, rubbing her forehead and mentally kicking herself again for not realizing it. At least AJ will be happy to know she’s off the hook here… “Okay, let’s look at this logically starting with the progression of cases. We’re pretty sure Applejack was affected first…”

“Fluttershy was affected first!” Trixie quickly corrected, wondering again why she didn’t become a prosecutor. “She acted exactly the way Pinkie Pie did here—drunk and ready to rut anything that moved! She even disappeared just as Applejack did!”

“You’re right…” Starlight conceded again, wondering why it was taking Trixie of all ponies to point out the truth that was staring her in the face. “The Fluttershy to Applejack vector is obvious enough—after she got Twilight, Fluttershy started to orally pleasure AJ, so she was infected then. But that doesn’t explain Pinkie Pie! As far as we know, she didn’t do anything but watch! So how was she infected?”

“You said it was airborne, right? A magical pheromone?” Trixie knew what that word meant if she didn’t quite get the use of ‘vector’. “Well, that pink-haired menace stood closer to Twilight and Fluttershy than we did! So maybe it was just proximity? Or there was something in the air just now before you brought up a breeze. So maybe she was just downwind of them?” The showmare reeled off some surprisingly plausible possibilities to Starlight.

Her unicorn marefriend had to think about that, closing her eyes and her horn glowing for a moment as she magically replayed her memories back to herself, paying particular attention to which way the fallen autumn leaves were moving on the ground. “No… the wind was blowing left to right across us, so if anything, Rainbow Dash would have been infected next since she was downwind. But she showed no symptoms! Though as for proximity… I can’t discount it. Not if the pheromone was magical and not physical,” Starlight agreed, getting more and more frustrated that the answer some part of her kept insisting was obvious still eluded her.

Then Trixie realized something else. “Wait… Pinkie Pie and Applejack are both Earth Ponies! So maybe this only affects them?” she suggested almost hopefully, wanting to believe herself safe.

“And Fluttershy…?” Starlight challenged with a raised eyeridge.

Trixie slumped, then remembered… “Wait! Sparkle wasn’t affected! She showed no symptoms when we left! So maybe unicorns are immune?” she tried again hopefully.

“Neither did AJ or Pinkie!” Starlight rubbed her eyes again, still not seeing a pattern. “Though as for Twilight, I think she’s safe. As a rule, STCs require rutting or at least oral sex to spread—a little wingplay plus going down on her horn shouldn’t be enough to infect her!” she said in both relief and exasperation, wishing Twilight was near enough to sense or summon, but her last teleport half an hour earlier had taken her out of range of Starlight’s magical awareness. “So… the question before us is: what happened to AJ, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie that somehow missed you and me?” she wondered aloud, belatedly remembering and pulling free the beacon crystal Twilight had given her earlier. “I think we need a magical expert on this one. So let’s call Twilight to us and tell her what we’ve found.”

Trixie looked unhappy at that, but nodded. “Very well. At this point, Trixie supposes Snarkle is our best...” the showmare trailed off abruptly as she replayed the events by the cider stand in her own head and remembered something, her eyes going wide as she processed the implications quickly. “No! No! Wait! Starlight, DON’T!” she all but shrieked, yanking the crystal out of a surprised Starlight’s magical grasp with her own aura and then teleporting it as far away as she could.

“Trixie? What in the hay are you…?” Starlight’s own voice trailed off as she saw very real fear in her friend’s eyes.

With great effort, Trixie brought herself back from the edge of outright panic, splashing water from her summoned container on her face, causing her dark eyeshadow to run. “Starlight… could you playback and project your memories like Sparkle can so I can see them?” the showmare asked, trying but not quite succeeding keeping a tremor from her voice as she dabbed at her eyes with the end of several strung-together handkerchiefs from her earlier show.

“Uh… sure. But why?” Starlight knew from experience that whenever Trixie dropped out of referring to herself in the third person, it meant she was either very flustered... or very afraid.

Her friend’s visible shaking and nervous, flitting eyes confirmed it as the latter. “B-Because Trixie thinks she knows how everypony but us was affected…” She swallowed hard as she spoke. “And if she’s right, Twilight Sparkle is the absolute last pony we want to summon right now…”

As she said her words, Pinkie Pie’s eyes reopened and a pair of bat-winged shadows flew across the face of the moon.

What… what am I doing? Spike had barely enough of his senses left to think as Mrs. Cake reached for him with a trembling hoof, but with his arousal now all-consuming and all but drunk on the exotic vanilla odor he was smelling, he was nearly beyond caring, continuing to encourage her advance by stroking himself, delighting in his effect on her. And yet… Where is this COMING from? some distant part of himself wondered again, having never thought of Mrs. Cake sexually before. He liked her, certainly, and she’d taken a rather motherly view of him in return, knowing his likes and always there with a friendly ear and a free pick-me-up gem donut or drink when he needed one. But now…?

Her will now hanging by a thread, her hoof hovered barely an inch above his crotch, a wet spot beginning to form through the stretched fabric over each of his twin heads.

They were barely hidden from view, there were half a dozen patrons on the other side of the counter, Mister Cake was in the other room and the Twins were upstairs sleeping. And yet… he still did not resist as, almost if she was in a trance, Mrs. Cake’s remaining resistance evaporated along with his as she reached the final, fateful distance for the belt on his Bittish overcoat, slowly pulling it open until the sides fell away. He felt his draconic shafts pulsing and throbbing, eager to be seen and be touched…

And somehow, at that moment, he desperately wanted that touch to be hers!

The feeling was only too mutual as Mrs. Cake gave an audible gasp as his twin-headed organs spilled free of the coat, visibly twitching as the tweed fabric tweaked one of his two sensitive heads, her marehood winking hard at the sight behind her. “Oh my…” she said almost inaudibly as she saw his visibly ridged shafts and tapered heads, so different than pony stallionhoods, imagining how smoothly they could slip in and how good the ridges would feel grinding against her inner walls despite his smaller size. “Such a strapping young drake you’ve become...”

“You… you mean it…?” Spike resumed openly stroking himself before her.

“V-Very much…” she replied in an equally trembling voice like she, too, was in disbelief at what was happening but was equally beyond caring, needing him at that moment as much as he needed her, leaning down to inspect his exotic equipment more closely. She nosed his hand away gently, her head close enough that she could smell his distinctive dragon musk, one that was just as heady to her as the vanilla odor was to Spike.

“Wh-what do you think?” he asked hopefully, wanting and needing her approval as he squeezed both shafts in turn to milk a drop of clear fluid out their tips, letting her see them glisten and the drops then slowly fall from his two tapered heads in turn, the beads still connected to their origin by a thin string, drawing even more attention to them. It had been a display of virility the CMC and Sweetie Belle in particular had liked; he hadn’t quite been above taking pleasure in the fact that she immensely enjoyed watching him stroke and milk himself when her older sister wouldn’t give him the time of a day. You had your chance, Rarity… and now even Mrs. Cake knows what you missed!

“It’s so…” Words failed Mrs. Cake at that moment, her entire field of vision now reduced to his scaled body and twin stallionhoods; her awareness now limited to him and her own unrelenting arousal. She had heard somewhere that male dragons had dual heads, but had never dreamt she’d get to see for herself someday! “So erotic…” she finally managed, her tone of voice making it clear she meant the word in the best possible way.

“Erotic…” Spike repeated the rarely-heard word, one he’d only read in books before, squeezing some additional pre out of his shafts for her to admire. “I think I like that…”

“You should be very proud…” she told him and meant it, drinking him in, her eyes tracing every curve and detail, appreciating his obvious assets and fertility. She wasn’t sure if they were entirely separate organs or simply two branches of the same, but their appearance was that of two nearly identical tapered pink shafts standing out side-by-side, each over six inches long and pointing out slightly away from center. Shafts that, even if they were somewhat smaller than their pony equivalents at that stage of his life, he could bury one or both within her to the hilt! And best of all, he could he either use them both at once, or one at a time to take me twice in a row… she realized with a shiver, various fantasies suggesting themselves in rapid succession and all demanding they be indulged first.

“Th-thanks, but… m-maybe we should go in the back…?” Spike suggested as she stared at his offering wide-eyed and the world stood still before them, each waiting for the other to make the final, fateful move. She licked her lips just as he did, the pair sparing another glance over the countertop to see if anypony was looking; all anypony had to do was walk up to the counter and they’d see what was happening.

Then again, being seen wasn’t the only thing that might give them away. “Hey, what’s that smell…?” a blue stallion and regular patron named Noteworthy called out from the seating area before Mrs. Cake could answer, his nose sniffing at the air and causing both Spike and Mrs. Cake to freeze. He was dressed in an old Disco outfit and had even won an award for it at the costume contest earlier that night. “I really like it!” Only then did Spike realize the origin of the rich vanilla extract aroma suffusing everything around them...

It was the scent of Mrs. Cake’s excitement!

“Oh, wow… is that some new vanilla, Mrs. Cake?” asked Noteworthy’s marefriend, Sea Swirl, from the same table, her nose twitching in appreciation beneath her raver outfit.

“Oh! Um… yes. Yes it is!” Even in her current state, Mrs. Cake was still quick on her hooves. “It’s… Prench Vanilla. We just got it in,” she said with a wink at Spike, who grinned, knowing full well from the many times he’d helped out at the store that Prench Vanilla was anything but exotic; it was nothing more than regular vanilla infused into a custard-like concoction of egg yolks, milk, and cream. “Available for a special price on Nightmare Night only!” she announced, her salespony instincts still intact and making Spike desire her all the more.

A mare as smart as she is sexy… he thought to himself, though it was the latter that he was most interested at that moment, watching raptly as she reached a hoof for his shafts again but still didn’t quite touch it, its tip hovering an inch above his. Why was I ever interested in Rarity again...?

“It smells really good! When you refill our order, could you put some of it in my latte?” Noteworthy asked.

“And my coffee!” Sea Swirl added.

“And my hot chocolate…” one by one the other patrons sounded off, each inhaling the odor deeply, the heady scent somehow calling to all of them, though none yet knew why they suddenly started thinking in more sensual terms, stallions and mares alike wriggling slightly uncomfortably in their seats, casting eyes at their friends and mates or simply about the room.

“Oh, um… of course, dears!” Mrs. Cake agreed eagerly, and though both relieved and disappointed at her averted encounter, she kept her tail flagged as she withdrew her hoof and refastened her apron... and then grinned as she got a very naughty idea. “Spike, would you please refill these orders while I take care of the spill? I’ll come back to add the vanilla in a minute,” she requested with a wink, passing him an order list and small apron he’d used before when Pinkie Pie had invited him to help out, deliberately tossing it to him so it hung right over his hardness, the twin shafts easily holding it up.

“Oh, uh… sure?” Spike said, fastening the apron only to find it did little to hide his raging hard-ons, as he’d heard human guys refer to them. He went over the various dispensers but nearly spilled the drinks again twice as he kept half an eye on Mrs. Cake the whole time, watching her repeatedly flag her tail at him in an equine mating cue he knew by then all too well. If I don’t stick these in her soon…

Even as he had the thought, he wasn’t sure what would happen as he glanced down at the tented fabric that covered his front, he just knew that somehow, he had to do it as he refilled the drinks according to the order sheet: two coffees, a latte, a hot chocolate and a hot cider. He assembled them on the tray and then hefted the platter over his waist to hide his state, though there was nothing he could do about his hot cheeks.

Before he could take them out into the serving area, however, Mrs. Cake came back behind the counter, her eyes possessing a lascivious gleam he’d never seen in them before. “So, uh… wh-what do we do about the ‘Prench Vanilla’?” he asked her quietly, amazed he could keep himself from dropping the platter and pouncing her right then and there.

“I’ve got that covered, dear…” In answer, she turned around to present her hindquarters to him, flagging her tail and giving him a spectacular view of her swollen opening and hardened teats. A wave of rich vanilla odor was coming off her, causing him to sway all but drunkenly while struggling with all his fading will to keep the platter still and the drinks on it. “Now hold still, Spike…” she told him quietly, and then…

She squirted her own love juices directly into the drinks!

Holy… Spike watched open-muzzled as her aim found each of the five mugs perfectly in turn, giving each a solid dose that didn’t so much as leave a rim residue. “That is so hot, Mrs. Cake…” he had to say, amazed at her feat, one he’d only read about in the lurid romance novels Sweetie Belle had smuggled out of Rarity’s personal stash for ideas.

“Why thank you, dear…” She gave one final squirt right on his face for good measure, the spray finding his nose and muzzle, leaving him licking his lips, closing his eyes and moaning as she tasted her for the first time. “Oops…” she said teasingly, having nearly completed her transformation from matronly mare to sensual siren who was now leading Spike along by the nose. Wanting more from the source, his long tongue darted out, reaching within an inch for her increasingly prominent clit, but she turned back around and held a hoof to his mouth.

“Not yet. The customers always comes first, Spike...” she reminded him. “Business before pleasure...”

Though surprised, Starlight played back the memories that Trixie requested, from right around the point Fluttershy had pleasured Twilight.

It was a spell Twilight taught her, and one that gave her perfect recall when she needed, able to replay a memory as many times as she needed and even project it for others to see. It was still a slightly surreal experience for Trixie as she saw the events unfold through Starlight’s senses, and was startled to hear her own voice through her friend’s ears—do I really sound like that? she thought at one point, thinking her voice was too low-pitched—but at the end, she saw what she had been expecting and dreading, and the answer became only too clear.

“There!” Trixie pointed with a shaky hoof at the projected image, showing Twilight climaxing spectacularly from her horn and showering everypony with orgasmic glitter…

Everypony except Starlight and Trixie, that was, as the former had erected a shield spell around them, preventing the magical ejaculate from reaching them. “That’s why we weren’t affected… and why we don’t dare attract Sparkle’s attention now...” Trixie shivered, looking around nervously. She could teleport in here instantly and there would be nothing Trixie could do to stop her...

“You’re right…” Starlight fell heavily back onto her haunches, rapidly realizing the potential consequences. “It explains everything perfectly. And if that’s how it was spread, it means Twilight was already infected. It also means her climax in turn infected everyone else showered by her horn’s eruption,” she realized grimly.

“If Sparkle’s infected, Celestia help us all…” Trixie said, swallowing hard. “We need to get out of here, Starlight. Get out of this tower, and get the hay out of town!” She did not want to be turned into a sexual zombie or worse, Twilight Sparkle’s plaything.

“No!” Starlight replied emphatically. “They’re our friends, and we can’t abandon them, Trixie! We’re going to find a way to help them and stop this thing!” she announced, her mind turning.

“But how? You already said your magic wasn’t enough to cure this! And we still don’t know how it started!”

Starlight had a sinking feeling she did know, but couldn’t face it just yet. Fix this first, hate myself for it later… she shoved the creeping guilt as far out of her head as possible.“It wasn’t able to here and now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t yet find a magical solution. I can search the library spellbooks for answers to this thing, or maybe Zecora’s alchemy could help. It’s also likely that Spike is immune—dragons are highly resistant to magic as a rule and curses don’t generally affect them. So let’s find him and get a warning message to the other Princesses to lock down Ponyville. Even if they can’t cure it, Shining Armor or Cadance could slap a shield around the area to keep it quarantined.”

Trixie suddenly wished she had the Alicorn Amulet back so she could put the entire town under a giant fishbowl again. “Good for them, but what about us? Trixie does not relish the idea of being sexually stalked by Twilight Sparkle!” she stated, her eyes darting nervously again.

Starlight’s jaw set. “Don’t worry. I’m her equal in power. I’ve fought Twilight to a standstill before and I can do it again if I have to. And besides, if she acts anything like Pinkie did here she’ll be so aroused she can’t focus enough to…” she never finished her sentence as she turned her eyes to the floor where Pinkie Pie lay in her stasis field only to find…

Pinkie had disappeared!

Spike walked out with his tray of drinks to the center of the floor in a daze, the Timberwolves and the CMC now all but forgotten... to say nothing of Mr. Cake upstairs.

The young dragon had never wanted anypony so badly in his life, but no matter how horny he was, he had always tried to be a Gentlecolt and in the end, he was so taken by Mrs. Cake he couldn’t disobey her. He rushed out as quickly as he dared to serve the mugs at the various tables, the movement causing his apron to ride up and bunch up until it was no longer covering his hardness. Its tail hung loosely off the base of them leaving the platter his only remaining cover, the smooth underside of drink-warmed metal tray rubbing against his twin heads and only stimulating them further.

Despite his sensual discomfort, the drinks themselves were an instant hit. “Wow…” Noteworthy said as he inhaled the odor deeply and then took a long draw on his coffee, only peripherally aware of his organ nosing free of his sheath beneath the table. “That’s really something, Mrs. Cake!” Noteworthy told her.

“Seconded…” Sea Swirl replied over her latte, a wet spot forming beneath her in her chair. “That’s just the right amount of vanilla!”

A cascade of other compliments came from the other patrons. “Now now, credit where credit is due, dears… Spike made them; I just spiked them!” Mrs. Cake looked very pleased with her own turn of phrase. “Now drink up everypony! While they’re still hot!” she instructed eagerly, and they did so. By the end of their mugs, cheeks were very warm and arousal was evident everywhere; Spike was strangely gratified to see several rapidly rising stallionhoods beneath the tables and even a few auras or hooves stroking them, the aroma of male musk and various sweet-smelling mares was now competing with Mrs. Cake’s distinctive and delicious vanilla scent for prominence, several ponies soon openly and all but involuntarily pleasuring themselves.

“It’s so nice to have satisfied customers, wouldn’t you say, Spike?” Mrs. Cake came up behind him and gently removed the tray from in front of him, putting him on full display to the other patrons, the mares and even the stallions suddenly staring at him in wide-eyed appreciation.

“You said it!” he agreed as he stood proudly before them, not minding in the least. He should have been mortified beyond measure by the exposure, but with all inhibitions now stripped away along with his Bittish hat and overcoat, he put his paws over his head like he was stretching, showing himself off to them. Eat your heart out, ponies! was suddenly all he could think, his eyes turning to reptilian slits. “Like what you see, ladies?” he asked proudly, beginning to stroke both his hardness at once, teasing his audience further with his darting tongue, its obvious dexterity causing more flights of fancy in the mares.

“Wow… two stallionhoods?” Sea Swirl looked stunned.

“And that tongue…” Amethyst Star added the corner, her horn glowing and marehood winking beneath her wizard attire.

“You lucky…” Noteworthy’s voice was pure envy, his own large organ now scraping the underside of the table as he inspected those of the young dragon.

“They’re just the right size and shape for…” From the other corner, a pegasus mare named Raindrops couldn’t finish her sentence, her wings rising to full attention beneath the insectile wings of her Breezy costume.

“For me…” Mrs. Cake finished, stepping in front of Spike. “You know, you’re a customer too, Spike! One of my favorites, in fact…” she flagged her tail at him again, this time presenting herself in open offering. “You’ve been such a dear and so helpful, and so very patient! So why don’t you have your favorite order now…?” she asked meaningfully, giving him a come-hither look, inviting him to mount her right out in the open.

Spike’s mind all but melted at that moment, his greatest desire on the very cusp of being fulfilled, its effect on him redoubled for being a desire he never even knew he had! “Don’t mind if I do....” he told her in awe, walking forward as if in a trance, reaching out to touch her and take her for the very first time.

Author's Note

This was the riskiest and hardest-to-write chapter yet, folks. There isn’t a more unlikely ship than this! Well, Phoenix Wright and Twilight Sparkle but that’s another story entirely… regardless, hope you enjoyed the build-up! Payoff comes next chapter! Sorry to leave it here, but the chapter was already full-length and it felt appropriate to do so. I actually did start to write into it, but it just felt like it didn’t belong here.

Before anyone claims that Spike x Mrs. Cake doesn’t make sense even under the influence of this thing, be assured it does, in context of how this curse actually works. Starlight and Trixie are only just beginning to figure out exactly what it is, where it came from, how it spreads, and how insidious it really is. How does it work? I’ve told my prereaders, but sorry, you’re going to have to learn as you go, just like Starlight and Trixie.

In any event, four more major scenes to come before the entire Mane 6 + Spike is consumed and corrupted, each featuring one major character. And after that…? You’d be very wise not to be so sure of your own abilities or take Twilight lightly, Starlight...

Thanks goes to a slightly reduced prereading crew of AJ_Aficionado and SilentwoodFire, with an assist from Grammarly, which I’m now making a habit of using. It catches a lot of stuff. Get-well-soon wishes go to a flu-ridden Leo Archon, and I apologize to Denim_Blue for not waiting for his preread but this was already ten days overdue. Oh yes, I also owe Denim a lot of prereads on his own stuff, and promise to get to those starting today. Nothing left to say at this point except a belated Merry Xmas and a very Happy New Year, folks!