Geldings

Chapters

Class Discussion
Rumble's Story
Discovery
Blackmail
The Offer
...
Still Best Buds
A Few Answers
A Princess Guest
The Sleepover
The Morning After
Colt Talk
Breaking Down
Bleak Friday
The Fight
Aftermath

Class Discussion

I was tired Monday morning but I got up and left for school anyway. I took my camera with me, hoping to capture some distractions. When I arrived at the schoolhouse, there was a little crowd outside. I pushed my way to the middle and found Rumble standing there.

"Hay, Featherweight! Take a picture," he said, then turned around and lifted tail. The place where his balls should have been was occupied instead by a white strip of gauze.

My best friend had just been gelded. Probably yesterday, from the looks of it.

I was stunned. Rumble hadn't even earned his mark yet! I stood there gawking, unable to process what I was looking at. I'd seen Rumble's sac plenty of times in the past while at play. Unlike me, he'd been very well-endowed for his age, at least as far as his balls were concerned. Now there was just a smooth, puffy lump.

"Don't be gross," said Silver Spoon. "Nopony wants to take a picture of your lump, Rumble."

The bell rang, saving me. "Ah, you can take one later," said Rumble, and we all filed into class.

I took my seat, overly conscious of how I slid backwards onto the seat to free up my scrotum. I noticed Rumble sitting gingerly down on his bandage, and it made me wince.

"Class, I have two announcements this morning," said Cheerilee, smiling brightly. "Two of our students have made a wonderful step toward adulthood over the weekend. Rumble had his first emission, and Lily Longsocks entered her first heat. Well done!" The classroom thundered with the stomp of congratulatory hooves.

"So what?" said Diamond Tiara, rolling her eyes. "Rumble doesn't even have his cutie mark! That's the important measure of being an adult. Not getting your testicles lopped off."

"You're just mad because you still haven't had your heat," retorted Rumble, frowning with his wings extended.

"Children, please. Both your cutie mark and your adolescence are important measures of adulthood," said Cheerilee. "And just like a cutie mark, adolescence can't be rushed, except in rare cases where a doctor's intervention is required. That said, I think today presents an excellent opportunity to talk about the process of gelding."

I buried my head in my forelegs. This was the last topic I wanted to hear more about.

"Are we going to go over the history of gelding again?" asked Sweetie Belle.

"Not in detail, no," said Cheerilee. "Today I'd like to talk more about the social and economic costs and benefits of the process, which will help to illustrate why we do it."

"Oh! I know why we do it," said Pipsqueak, raising his little hoof. "It's because stallions do bad things."

"Well, in part," said Cheerilee. "Why don't we discuss the costs, first. Rumble, what can you tell us about the costs?"

"Oh, um. It's like, free, isn't it?" he said, shifting gently in his seat. "I mean, my parents didn't have to pay anything for it."

"That's true. Gelding is not an elective procedure, so the state pays for the operation. But the doctor and gelding clinic still must get paid. The cost can vary, but it's generally around seventy-five bits for the operation, and two hundred for artificial maturation, semen extraction, and magical stasis," she explained.

"Pfft, they could have kept the two hundred," said Rumble. "I don't even wanna have kids."

"You may change your mind later in life, Rumble. It's important that the option is there for you should you want it," said Cheerilee.

"I suppose. I guess I'll have a bunch of hotties who want me to make babies with them once I'm a Wonderbolt like my brother," said Rumble, and he winked at Scootaloo. The class laughed, except for Scootaloo who glared angrily at him.

"Nopony knows what the future may hold," Cheerilee said in a soothing voice. "Now who can tell me what some of the other costs are?"

The class went silent, and foals stared at each other with puzzled expressions. Finally, Peppermint Twist spoke up. "Thomething could go wrong with the operation?" she asked.

"Good. Complications are a potential cost, but fortunately they are extremely rare," said Cheerilee. "There's a small cost in pain and suffering for the patient as well, but with modern medical advances this is relatively minor."

"I'll say," said Rumble, puffing up his chest. "It didn't hurt hardly at all, unless you're gonna be a wimp about it."

Cheerilee smiled. "That's very brave of you, Rumble. Now can anypony think of any social costs? What does society lose because of gelding?"

"Soldiers are a little weaker," said Lily Longsocks. "Because they have less tes... testy...."

"Tethtothterone," said Twist.

"Yeah, that. Though boys grow taller if they're gelded, so that kind of makes up for it. Oh, and athletes are weaker, too, so geldings can't set the same world records as stallions. But we wouldn't let athletes or soldiers take dangerous drugs to get stronger, so it doesn't make sense to let them have testicles," continued Lily.

"Good point, Lily," said Cheerilee.

"Um, it's also a little harder to make babies," said Apple Bloom. "But it should be, shouldn't it? I mean, kids shouldn't be makin' kids, and you shouldn't be havin' young'uns until you're ready to start a family for real."

"That's very true. While it may be for the best, gelding places an impediment in the way of starting a family: a gelding needs to be an adult to request access to his sperm, and the process of impregnating a mare is a little more involved," said Cheerilee. "But once a gelding turns seventeen years of age, he is free to do whatever he wishes with his sperm, including throw it away—although doing so is never recommended because he may change his mind later, and the state pays for the storage anyway."

I sat there chewing on my lower lip. I didn't want to be involved in this discussion. I'd rather have been a million miles away. I wanted to remain silent, but something inside compelled me to speak.

"I... I know a social cost," I blurted out, and all eyes were on me.

"Go ahead, Featherweight," said Cheerilee.

"Freedom," I said, meekly. "Cause you don't get to choose. You have to lose them. Even if a colt doesn't want it, they'll hold him down and do it to him anyway."

Cheerilee nodded solemnly. "Very good. Freedom is a social cost of the law, and it's probably the largest cost of all."

"But the freedom to do what, keep your balls? What kind of stupid freedom is that?" asked Scootaloo, wrinkling her muzzle up. "They're only going to poison your brain! You'd have to be crazy to want to keep them."

"And selfish," said Sweetie Belle. (I felt a phantom hoof punch me right in the gut.)

"Freedom is defined independent of its costs, children. It's about the ability to decide things for oneself, and true freedom includes the ability to make bad decisions," said Cheerilee. "For example, a pony is free to cheat on their spouse. That may be a bad decision, but without the law allowing ponies to make mistakes like that, we'd be in a very bad situation. Imagine if friendship were forced on you rather than something you were allowed to do on your own. Would it truly be friendship then?"

"But, um, gelding is different," said Snails. "Without it, really bad things would happen. Like that cheating on your spouse thing you just said, that used to be way more common."

"Well, then let's talk about some of those things. What does gelding do for our society?" asked Cheerilee.

"It gets rid of most murder, and almost all rape," said Diamond Tiara. "Stallions do really bad things that geldings don't."

"It's not just the crime, either," said Snips. "Boys restrooms used to be full of bad words and stuff. They'd draw disgusting things all over the walls!"

"But that's what I mean," said Scootaloo. "Why would you want to end up becoming a monster?"

"Scootaloo, not all stallions were monsters," said Cheerilee. "Most stallions were well-behaved and productive members of society."

"It doesn't matter," said Silver Spoon. "Enough of them were monsters, and now almost none of them are."

"It saves thousands and thousands of lives," said Pipsqueak. "Isn't that enough to justify it?"

"Undoubtedly true. The statistics speak for themselves, and this is the legal argument used by the Diarchy to justify gelding," said Cheerilee. Then she pointed to Snips, who had his hoof raised. "Snips?"

"Oh! Isn't it kind of what separates us from yaks?" he asked.

"Exactly," said Diamond Tiara, crossing her forelegs.

"To be fair, we don't yet know enough about yak culture to say that," said Cheerilee.

"But they're so violent!" said Snips.

Cheerilee nodded. "Yes, but the violence in yak culture is largely positive violence, similar to violence in athletics," she said. "It's also common to both male and female yaks. We don't know for certain that yaks have the same problem with abuse and rape that ponies faced before gelding became commonplace."

"Of course they do," said Rumble. "If they have testosterone, some of them are guaranteed to be monsters..."

That's where I stopped paying attention to the discussion. I couldn't stop thinking about what Silver Spoon and Rumble were saying. Gelding turns potential monsters into normal ponies. It was true, wasn't it? Statistics don't lie. Of course gelding was justified. It saved lives, pure and simple. The facts were undeniable.

But as I stared down at my balls while the class droned on, for some reason I felt like this still shouldn't apply to me. This was my body! I already knew I wouldn't be a monster, because I knew who I was as a pony. I was compassionate and caring, and I despised violence. Even with his balls removed, Rumble was probably more rough-and-tumble than I'd ever be as a stallion. Not to mention Scootaloo, and she never even had balls!

Horsefeathers. Scootaloo was so lucky. Fillies can be as rough as they want to and they never have to worry about being fixed.

I was still staring at my lap when the bell for recess rang.

Rumble's Story

I didn't talk much to Rumble during recess, but he caught me after school.

"Hay, Featherweight! Hold up," he called, trotting up from behind. "I'm not supposed to gallop until this heals."

"Right," I said, slowing down. "I was just headed home."

"Well, you're not sick anymore, right? Can I come over and play?"

I stopped in place and thought for a moment. "Sure," I finally said. "I miss seeing you. I mean, I was inside all weekend." This was true. Talking to my friend again felt like a relief, even if he didn't have his testicles anymore. It's not like his testicles were the part of him I liked to play with, anyway. Neither one of us were old enough for that sort of junk, even now that we'd both 'grown up'.

"Awesome," he said, and walked beside me.

I was quiet on the trip back. I could see in Rumble's face he knew something was wrong, but neither one of us knew what to say. He waited until we got to my room to confront me.

"Hay dude. It's still me," he said, punching me lightly in the shoulder. "You know that, right?"

I sat down on my bed. "What? I never said it wasn't."

"Ugh. You look like I just broke your favorite action figure," he accused.

I pouted openly. "You made a promise, Rumble."

Rumble bristled at that. "We were little foals, Feather! What was I supposed to do, run away from home just because I'm afraid to grow up?" He sat down on the floor, very gingerly. "Look, it's gonna happen to you too someday. You gotta be an adult about this."

I sighed. "So, what's it like?" I asked, reluctantly.

He shrugged. "Not a big deal. You want all the grisly details?"

"I'm a colt, ain't I?" I said. I probably sounded a little defensive.

Rumble grinned. "Details it is. Okay, um, let's see. I guess it started Sunday morning. I woke up with dried goo on my sheets," he said, and I shuddered reflexively at my own memory. "Yeah, it's gross. It took me a while to figure out what happened, though. I figured I'd be like my brother."

"Oh, right. You have that narrow urethra," I said, and he nodded.

"Exactly. Thunderlane never had wet dreams. Don't ever tell anypony I told you this, but they found out he grew up when Dad caught him slapping off. You know, on his belly," he said. "He was using his wings too."

"Eww, gross!" I said, sticking out my tongue. "And getting caught by your Dad... that would be so embarrassing."

"Yeah, it was pretty awful. Way worse than just waking up to it, where it's natural and it's not like it's your fault. That's what I was thinking about while I sat there in bed, for like, a whole hour," he said. "It took me that long to decide I needed to tell Mom. I wasn't chicken or nothing, I was just... it's shocking, y'know?"

I nodded. "Yeah, no, that makes sense. I..." I paused for a few moments to collect my thoughts before adding in a voice louder than intended, "Why didn't you at least try to hide it from your parents?"

Rumble's face fell. "Are you... mad at me?" he asked, his voice incredulous.

"What? No!" I said, then looked away from him. "Well... no, I'm not mad. I'm just confused. I think... I think I'd try to hide it."

"Of course I thought about it, but that just pushes it off. You can't hide it forever," said Rumble. "We're still friends, right?"

"Yeah, of course we are," I said. "I wasn't friends with your balls."

"It'd be kinda weird if you were," said Rumble, making a funny face.

I laughed, despite myself. "I guess. So, what happened next?"

"Right. Well, I told her what happened, and she checked my bed and told me she was real proud of me for letting her know, and told me to take a shower and wash real good back there," he said. "Thunderlane was at 'Bolts practice so he couldn't come along with us. Dad had a migraine and asked if I needed him to come with, but I said I'd be okay without him, so it was just me and Mom."

"I never thought of it being a family thing," I said.

Rumble shrugged and carefully repositioned himself on the floor. "It's important, yeah. You're growing up and stuff," he said. "Anyway. Mom walks me to the clinic, and the whole time I've got butterflies in my stomach but it's too late for me to back out now that I've told her, so that makes it a lot easier. The doctor there was a nice guy..."

"The doctor was a gelding?"

"Yeah. That made me feel a little better about it than if it was a mare, 'cause he knows what it's like, y'know? He was kinda old, so it was probably more primitive back when they did it, though," he said. "So they took me to a clinic room, like you go when you have the flu, except they have this little table you climb onto that's only wide enough for your belly, and there's stirrups for your back hooves to sit in." Rumble stood up and posed with one of his rear hooves. "And your front legs go to the side, on these other two little tables, and then they strap everything into place."

"They tie you down?" I said, aghast.

Rumble sits back down on the floor and I listen in earnest. "They kinda have to, because they don't want you getting hurt if you accidentally jerk to the side or something. Of course, the guy just says, 'we're just going to strap you in to make sure you're comfortable', like being hogtied to a table until you can't move a muscle is the most comfortable thing in Equestria," he said, with a chuckle. "And once the straps are on I guess I'm freaking out a little, but my Mom is there and she holds my face in her hooves and she's smiling at me like she's really proud of me."

"I guess that's why they want your family there," I mumbled, and I clambered down onto the floor to sit with my friend so I could see him eye to eye.

He nods and continues. "It helps. I tried to turn my head and see behind me, but they keep the tools on a tray below you so you can't really see anything while they're doing it. Probably for the best," he said. "First he says he's gonna wash them, and he washes them and dries them and wipes something cold and wet all over them. Then he says he's going to make them numb, so I should just relax, like that's actually going to happen. He says 'little pinch' and I feel a poke and it hurts my left ball for just a fraction of a second, but then it goes numb, and he does it again to the right one. I think he poked me once at the base, too. Everything back there starts to get really numb, even my ponut. All four of my legs are shaking in place but I'm not really scared, I'm just nervous, and Mom kisses me on the nose and tells me I'm doing great."

I recoiled against the side of my bed. "That all sounds terrible! I thought you said it was no big deal?"

"That was the only bad part. And the doctor tells me that. The hard part's all over, so now all I gotta do is relax because I won't be able to feel anything. But he talks to me while he does it so I still know what's going on. He makes an insicion, pops one testicle out, then clamps the cord up inside me. It takes several minutes for the clamps to work, so it's a little boring," he said. "Mom doesn't wanna look because it's gross, but I ask her to because I'm curious. She tells me the cord is really long, and the testicle is white and slimy, and there's some blood."

I shivered in place, holding my forehooves over my balls. "Ohmygosh, that's so gross."

"Yeah. Well, after a few minutes the doctor says we're almost done, he's just going to take out the slack so I don't have an empty sac dangling around. I feel a tugging back there, and there's a sound like a huge stapler..." said Rumble, and he grinned evilly and slammed his forehooves together, "KA-CHUNK! And then the tugging sensation goes away. He does a few stitches, which I can't feel, then he sticks a bandage thing on it."

"And that's it?" I asked.

"Pretty much. Then I got my pills and we went home. Uh, and don't tell anypony else this either, but," said Rumble, looking left and right, "I cried a little after."

I frowned. "Oh colt. I'm sorry," I said.

"It's fine! I just, I dunno. It was emotional for some reason. I cried for a while but I'm okay now. I got to have lots of ice cream, and it'll heal pretty quick."

"Do they hurt?" I asked.

"There's no 'they' anymore, dude. It's a little sore, but it's way easier to sit down now. Here," he said, and tilted his pelvis back so I could see the bandage. "I have some pills that make the pain go away, and some antibiotics I gotta take too. I can't show you the scar yet because I'm not supposed to take off the bandage until tomorrow, but I'll show you then. In a couple days it won't hurt at all. They take the stitches out in a week, and that's supposed to hurt a little, but I'm an adult now. I gotta be a gelding about it and take a little pain."

I swallowed hard. "I still don't wanna do it," I said.

"Aww. You're a tough colt too," said Rumble, slugging me in the shoulder with a hoof.

"Not like you! And you cried..."

"A little," he corrected me.

"Yeah, but still. You're a year younger than me, but you're still twice as tough!"

Rumble smiled. "Heh. Yeah, I guess I am, but I gotta be. I got a brother to live up to, y'know?" He paused for a moment in thought. "Hay, you know what? Why don't I go with you when you get gelded?"

I blinked a few times. "You'd really do that?"

"Sure," he said. "You're my best friend, Feather. Getting gelded kinda sucks when you're scared, but you wouldn't have to be scared with me there."

I nodded nervously. "Yeah, I guess. Thanks."

We spent the rest of the day playing together, but as much as I tried to put it out of mind, I was constantly aware of the tiny weight swinging between my hind legs.

Discovery

I didn't enjoy writing the essay, but that was kind of the point. I didn't keep it, so I can't copy it here, and I wouldn't want to repeat it anyway.

Cheerilee made me read it out loud in front of the class. Somehow I made it through the whole thing without crying. The other students were nice to me about it, though Rumble seemed pretty uncomfortable. I tried not to look at him.

When recess rolled around I didn't feel like playing outside, but Miss Cheerilee shooed me out of the classroom. So I hung out by myself on the edge of the playground. I wasn't feeling particularly friendly.

To make things worse, near the start of recess, I accidentally 'dropped'. It was faster than I'd ever done it before, so I figured it might be the hormones. I quickly retracted into my sheath before anypony could see, except maybe for a mare passing by the play area.

Halfway through recess Scootaloo trotted up to me. She's the only filly I'm brave enough to talk to, but she's more like a colt in a lot of ways. A long time ago she helped protect me from some bullies and we've been good friends ever since.

"How are you doing?" she asked. I could see the concern on her face.

"I'm okay. Just... embarrassed by what I did," I said.

She nodded. "I've been mad enough to kick a few times. It's not fun."

"It was just so quick!" I said, stomping a hoof. "It happened so fast, I didn't have a chance to stop myself. I feel scared now. Like, I'm scared of myself, if that makes any sense. Ugh, I'm such a coward!"

"You're not a coward, Featherweight," said Scootaloo, frowning. "You're one of the bravest ponies I know!"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please, don't give me that. I'm even more of a coward than you realize," I said.

"What? How come?" She stood there, waiting for an answer.

I'm not sure why I decided to tell her. I think maybe deep down, I wanted to get caught. Being gelded would finally put an end to all my self-imposed suffering, after all.

I leaned in and whispered. "Can you keep a secret? For me?" I asked.

Scootaloo nodded slowly. "Okay. I Pinkie Promise," she said, miming the actions. "Now what's going on?"

"I had my first emission on Friday." The momentary silence felt very awkward.

"...what? And you didn't tell your mom about it?" Her eyes widened as the news sunk in.

"I'm not ready to! I just need a little more time, okay?"

She sighed and looked skyward. "Featherweight, you need to tell her. Oh my gosh. Is this why you hit your friend?"

"No, of course not! I mean... I don't think so. It was only a few days ago, for Friendship's sake."

"Okay. I guess. But those things are like a ticking time bomb, Feather..."

I looked her in the eye. "Do you really think I would be a bad stallion?"

She frowned. "That's not the point."

"I'm asking for a reason. Do you think I'd be one of the bad ones?"

Scootaloo's muzzle scrunched up. "No, of course I don't. But we can't know for sure. Nopony can. And it doesn't matter, anyway. You can't keep them. It's not safe, and you'd never get away with it. What are you going to do, run away?"

I shuffled my hooves, but didn't respond.

She gasped. "Featherweight!" she said, then lowered her voice. "I mean, I don't want you to hit me, but... think about what you're doing. Think hard."

"I'm not going to run away," I said. "I know what you're getting at, and I don't want to be anything like my father, alright? Of course I'm going to get them out. I'm just not ready yet. I need to be ready first."

"If you had your first emission, that means you're ready," she insisted. "Look, they can put you under all the way if you're too scared."

"That's not it. I'm not afraid of the procedure. I mean, I'm anxious about it, but I could do it if I had to," I said. "Having it done would be a relief, actually. Hiding it from everypony has made me a mess inside."

"Then what is it?" she asked.

I closed my eyes. "I'm afraid of what losing them will do to me. I don't want to be a different pony, Scoot."

When I opened my eyes, I saw a sympathetic look on her face. "Feather. You're not going to be a different pony. Is Rumble a different pony now?"

"No. Maybe. Not really. I dunno," I said, shrugging.

"He's your best friend. You of all ponies should know," she said, her eyes narrow.

I sighed. "Okay, he's not a different pony," I admitted. "But it still doesn't feel right. It's like, gelding means there's something wrong with me. It's not just my body, it's me that's defective. I'm broken inside because I was born a colt."

"That isn't true and you know it! You are NOT broken. Colts are every bit as good as fillies."

I snorted. "Then why do I have to cut part of my body off?"

"Well... You know the reasons. Cancer. Anger. Sex crimes," she said, and each word burned me like a lit match. "It makes you calmer. It's relaxing. It's healthy. And yes, it keeps ponies from becoming monsters. I would look forward to it! Why wouldn't somepony choose to be a gelding?"

"It's not a choice," I said. "And I don't know, Scoot. I can't justify how I feel, and I know I'm probably being selfish. I'm just not ready to change, and this is a permanent change we're talking about. There's no going back."

"The only permanent change is what your balls will do to your brain if you keep them after they start pumping out test... testy-whatever," she said. "If you want to stay the same, gelding is the only way to do it."

My eyes started to tear up, and she reached over to cup my chin in her hoof.

"Er... Please don't cry. I'm really bad with this kinda thing," she said, looking embarrassed. "Sweetie Belle does it sometimes and I never know how to make her feel better."

"You don't know what this is like," I whispered.

"Maybe I do, at least a little," she said. "I spent literally years questing for my cutie mark, because I wanted to be an adult. After a while, Apple Bloom started to worry about what would happen when we finally got our wish, and then Sweetie and I started worrying too. It's a big change, and you don't know what to expect."

"It didn't change you that much, though, right?" I pointed out. "I mean, you just found out you were good at what you'd been obsessing over the whole time. It was, um... 'irony', I think."

"It was scary is what it was," she said. "Growing up is always scary. And even after we got our marks, we were still just foals."

"You're a mare, Scootaloo. You had your heat already."

"No, I'm not. I'm still a filly," she said. "The cute-ceañara and getting your heat are just... artificial. I realize that now. What makes you an adult is how mature you are as a pony, and that takes time. That's why there's still stuff you can't do until you're seventeen."

"Okay, that only proves my point. My balls shouldn't matter. Gelding isn't what makes you an adult."

"But doing your gelding proves you're mature enough to accept responsibility for yourself. It's more important than a heat," she said. "Look, I'll help you tell your mom if that makes it easier. I'd even go to it with you, if you wanted me to. I mean, it would be super gross, but I'm your friend."

I chuckled, wiping away a tear. "Rumble said he'd go with me too. That was before I slugged him in the face, though."

She smiled. "He seems okay. I bet he'd still do it for you."

"He's a good guy, yeah," I said. "Look, it's only been a few days. I'll figure this out soon, okay? Don't tell anypony? Please?"

Scootaloo groaned. "I can't believe you talked me into this. The next time you ask me to keep a secret, it needs to be something legal, okay?"

My eyes widened, and unconsciously my left rear hoof began tapping the ground.

"Yes, I won't tell anypony," she mumbled. "But that's only because you're going to tell your mother. Soon. Right?"

I nodded. "I have to tell her sooner or later. Keeping this a secret has been really painful."

"That's guilt, Feather." She raised her eyebrows at me.

"Um, yeah. I guess," I said.

I decided against telling her about the quill. If she knew how much pain I was putting myself through, she'd know for sure I was crazy.

Because I was crazy, of course.

After detention, Rumble cantered over to where I was walking. He wasn't in detention anymore, so he must have come back to school just to see me. The operation seemed to be affecting him less now. I looked down nervously at the ground and kicked at it with a hoof.

"It's cool, Feather," he said as he reached speaking distance. "We're cool, right?"

I nodded, then reached out and hugged him tightly. "I'm so sorry."

"Forget it, it's okay! Just... try not to do it again, because Mom's already on the warpath."

"Oh gosh. I hope she can forgive me," I said. I pulled back from the hug. "Colt, I really gave you a shiner." The purple mark ran a curve from his cheekbone to his temple.

Rumble grinned broadly. "Yeah, I know! It looks pretty cool, I think."

I frowned and shuddered. "Ugh."

"Dude, it's fine. I'll tell Mom about the essay you wrote, and she'll talk to your mom about it, and we'll be able to play together again soon," he said. "Just... not today."

I nodded. "Right. Well, take care, alright?"

"Yeah. Oh, and I'll show you the scar when you feel up to it, just let me know. Catch you later," he said, then cantered toward his home.

I turned and walked home at a slow pace. Mom was waiting for me when I got home.

"How was school?" she asked. I could tell she was nervous and trying to hide it.

"It went fine," I said. "It was embarrassing, but nopony made fun of me or anything. Rumble even seems kinda happy about it."

Mom breathed a huge sigh of relief. "I'm glad to hear that, sweetie." She kissed my forehead and sat down at the kitchen table where she was working a crossword.

I stood there for a moment in thought, then pulled up a chair. "Mom? Can I ask you something?"

Mom looked up to me, then scooted her chair closer to mine. "Of course you can, Feather."

I looked out the window and fidgeted with my hooves. "Do you think I would be a bad stallion? I mean, not bad like my father, just... if I kept my testicles, would that make me bad?"

Mom raised her eyebrows. "Well, it's not something you're able to do," she said. "For better or worse, it's not something you get to choose."

"That wasn't what I asked," I countered.

Her lips pressed flat through a pregnant pause. "No, Featherweight. I don't think you would be a bad stallion," she said, her voice soft. "Why are you asking me this? Is this about your father?"

"No. I just... I don't know if I'd want to do it, if I had the choice," I said. I felt guilty and ashamed, and I closed my eyes. Then I felt Mom petting my forelock.

"I'm sorry this is something you have to face. I don't like it either. We all need to grow up someday, and we don't get to choose when..."

I opened my eyes and looked up at Mom, frowning. "What do you mean, 'we'?"

Mom retracted her hoof and set it on the table, but said nothing.

"I mean, you never had to 'grow up', did you?" I accused, pointing a hoof.

She looked away from me for a moment. "No. But if removing a small part of my body made it less likely that I would kill or rape somepony, of course I would do it," she said. "I'd view it as my social responsibility."

"That's easy for you to say. You've never had to worry about being gelded—no, castrated," I said, emphasizing the word. I watched my mother wince.

"Sweetie... it isn't fair," said Mom, looking back to me. "Girls don't have to give as much as boys do. Boys don't have to go into heat, but gelding is worse. Colts get the short end of nature's stick. I feel terrible about it. I wish it didn't have to be like this, I honestly do."

I rubbed at my temple with a hoof. "You'd really cut off a part of your body for society? For real?"

"If it saved as many lives as gelding saves, yes I would," she said.

"And you would force me to do it?" I said, my voice a flat monotone.

Mom paused, and bit her lip. "No."

I blinked a few times. "Wait, what?"

"Do you think I want to see you cut open?" said Mom, her brow furrowing as she suddenly raised her voice at me. "No mother wants to see her foal suffer, much less lose a part of his body!" She took a few deep breaths, then finally her shoulders relaxed a bit.

"I don't understand. What about the 'greater good'?"

A sad smile rested on my mother's lips. "Gelding is for the best. I agree you should do it, but... I wish it could be your choice. In an ideal world, it would be."

"I guess this isn't an ideal world," I said, looking down at the table.

Mom sighed and reached out to stroke my cheek. "No world can be, sweetie."

I swallowed hard. "So why do you think I should do it? You said I would be a good stallion."

My mother grimaced. "Feather... do they tell you about foal molestation at school?"

My ears swiveled forward and I cocked my head. "If somepony older tries to have sex with you?" I said. "Miss Cheerilee warned us about it, yeah. We're supposed to tell somepony if it happens, because it can hurt you really bad, like rape. And it doesn't happen much, at least. That's all I know."

"It happens more often than you'd think," said Mom. "But it used to be commonplace when geldings were stallions. One stallion could molest a large number of foals before getting caught, you see. According to the history books, one in five fillies were victims of foal molestation in the pre-gelding era. One in five, Feather. And around one out of nine colts, if I remember correctly."

"That's... that's just crazy," I said.

"It ruined the lives of millions of ponies. After gelding, the proportion of victims went down by more than ninety percent," she said. "Gelding stops an overwhelming amount of suffering in the world. If I had testicles, of course I'd want them removed. I can't justify keeping them."

"Mom, I would never do that to a foal!" I said, then I frowned and clenched my teeth.

"I know you wouldn't, honey," she said. "But you still might be attracted to foals when you grow up. That isn't something you have any control over. And if you were, you would suffer because of it."

"I'll be attracted to mares my own age," I said. "Even if I had my balls, I would. You said it was a small number of stallions doing all the molesting, anyway."

"The Crown commissioned a lot of research before the gelding law was passed, all those centuries ago. Few stallions back then acted on their feelings, but many stallions were attracted to fillies and colts. Studies put the number somewhere between twenty and fifty percent of stallions who found young fillies attractive. I don't mean young mares, either, I mean little fillies, even before their cute-ceañaras. Nopony would admit it openly, but the research was clear. If you don't believe me, go to Princess Twilight's Royal Library and look up the history in a collegiate-level book."

I really didn't know what to say. I just felt sick inside.

"Now, what if you grew up and discovered you were attracted to little fillies?" she asked me.

I recoiled in revulsion. "I would NOT hurt them. I don't care how much my balls made me want it!"

"You don't know what the impulse is like, Feather. It's very strong, too strong for many stallions to resist, and it's easy to convince yourself what you're doing isn't hurting anypony when it is," she said. "Nonetheless, I believe you. I don't think you'd ever hurt a foal. But even if you did resist, you'd still imagine doing it, probably every day. You'd have to live with yourself, knowing how you felt inside. You'd be miserable. I can't imagine you suffering like that. I love you too much. I'd do almost anything to prevent it."

I started to tear up. "B-but, you, you know I wouldn't be a monster. You said so." I sniffed and wiped the moisture from my eyes.

She nodded solemnly. "I do, but... every mother would say that about her colt. That's the problem: there's no way to know for sure. Not until it's too late," she said. Her eyes were watering, too. "If the choice were yours, I would beg you to go through with it. I'd have one of my own legs cut off if I knew that would convince you. I'm dead serious when I say that. All I want in life is for you to be happy. Geldings are much happier on average than stallions were. They're less angry, have fewer negative impulses to struggle with, and they lead very rewarding lives. The risk you'd face as a stallion... it's just terrible. It isn't worth being a little stronger or having more sex."

I choked up for a moment, and nodded. "O-okay," I said. I had run out of words.

Mom stood up, picked me up in one leg, and held me tight. I cried a little. When she finally let go, I wiped my eyes again and stared at the floor.

There was a moment of silence.

"Son, do you have something you want to tell me?" Mom asked, very gingerly.

"You already know, don't you?" I said, my voice cracking.

Mom nodded. "I do. I'm not sure how you've been hiding it from me, but a mother knows."

"So... you're going to take me now?" I asked, looking up to her with bleary eyes.

She smiled weirdly, clearly holding back tears. "No, I'm not. I'll let you decide when you're ready," she said. "But I want you to do it soon. If you won't do it for yourself, then please, do it for me, Feather. Or do it for your friends."

"Th-thanks," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I will."

I spent most of the evening crying in my room.

That night, despite the pain, I again slept with the feather in my sheath. I wasn't going to leave a wet spot for her to find, whether or not she knew. I couldn't imagine doing that to her.

Blackmail

Thursday morning was rough. Despite the feather in my sheath, I'd dribbled a little something sticky against the covers, and it put me in a dour mood from the get-go.

All morning long, I couldn't stop thinking about what Scootaloo had said. Were stallions all monsters, just by default? Were my balls really a ticking time bomb? Mom didn't seem to think so, yet I actually believed her when she said she'd rather cut off a leg than have me become a stallion. Moms always overstate risks to their foals, but if she really felt that way... what kind of son would I be to refuse her wishes for me? All she ever wanted was for me to be happy.

Needless to say, I had an impossible time paying attention in class that day.

I spent time with Scootaloo during recess again. I was glad she was willing to talk to me, because she was the only pony I felt I could trust with my terrible secret.

"So, turns out Mom knows now," I told her, after we met privately by the swings. "Apparently she always knew, but she didn't want to say anything."

"Wait, what?! She didn't take you to get fixed right away? How come?" asked Scootaloo.

I shrugged. "I think she just wants me to make the decision on my own, which is what I wanted to do when I was hiding it anyway. But even after hearing her beg me to do it, I..." I tried my best to hold back the feelings of guilt. "I still don't want to get my balls cut off, Scoot."

Scootaloo shook her head and planted a hoof over her face. "I can't believe she's actually helping you hide this... I mean..." she said, and then her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, yeah. My father, Mom's rape, I know. She trusts me, okay? Is that so hard to believe?" I probably looked a little peeved (pardon my Prench).

"No, it's fine! I'd just think she'd want to help you get this over with so you could stop suffering. You can't possibly enjoy living with this."

I nodded and sighed. "I hate it. I really, really hate it. These past few days have been the worst. I think... I kinda wish I'd been born a filly, you know?" I whispered the words, and my cheeks burned.

"Then why, Featherweight?"

"I don't know! I'm a coward? I'm afraid to grow up? I can't explain it. I really, really don't want to stop being me. And I know it's my balls that change me, not losing them, but it still doesn't feel... natural. It feels wrong."

"It 'feels wrong', against how terrible it could be for you and your mom? That's not a very good argument," said Scootaloo. "I'm worried about your mom now. I wish either one of my real parents cared as much about me as she cares about you. She's breaking the law, and unlike you, she could get in real trouble for it."

"Nah. I don't think she'd get in any real trouble, and she has a good reason to make me wait anyway. Cheerilee wouldn't want it to look like I was being gelded as punishment after what happened with Rumble..."

Suddenly, Rumble and Chipcutter landed next to us. "Hay, speak of the timberwolf and his tail appears," said Rumble, with a grin. "I thought my ears were burning. What are you talking about me for?"

"It's private," said Scootaloo, bristling.

"Scoot, it's okay," I said. "I was just talking about the fight, and the detention I have for the rest of the week."

Rumble pouted. "Ugh. Sorry about that," he said.

"It's not your fault," I insisted. "I deserve it. I'd feel bad if I didn't have to suffer for what I did."

"Eh, it's partly my fault," he said. "I egged you on, and I only had to take one day's detention for what I did. I hope it's not real 'suffering', though. I can tell you've already put yourself through the wringer about this, and I honestly don't care about the fight. Neither does Mom anymore, so we can play together again."

"Guys. It's all in the past now," said Chipcutter. "I mean, except for Featherweight's detention. You're still good friends, right?"

I smiled and clopped hooves with Rumble. "Yeah, we sure are." He smiled back.

"Good," said Chipcutter. "Hay, we were wondering, after detention, if you wanna come flying with us? We want to practice some tricks."

My eyes widened. "Uh, guys, that's kind of rude," I said, gesturing subtly toward Scootaloo.

The filly frowned. "No... it's fine. I have other things to do with the girls, anyway. You should go with your friends, Feather."

"I'm not sure. I don't think I could concentrate on flying with everything that's happened," I mumbled.

"What do you mean?" asked Chip.

"You guys are, um... more aerodynamic, if you catch my drift," I said. "I'd just be thinking about my balls bouncing around the whole time I was up there."

"There's a fix for that, y'know," said Scootaloo, narrowing her eyes.

I felt my pulse quicken. Dammit, Scoot.

"What, you mean get gelded early? My dad told me you can do that, though I didn't do it early," said Chipcutter. "It might not be a bad idea. It's a real pain to always be waiting for that horseshoe to drop. Just get it over with, y'know?"

"Sheesh, no way. You don't have to get cut before your time because of me, okay buddy?" said Rumble, putting his leg around my withers. "You're welcome in the air with us, with or without your balls. We won't judge you. And you might be thinking about them, but we sure won't be."

"Maybe another time. I'm still in a bad mood, but I'm sure I'll be better by the end of the week," I said.

Rumble frowned and gave me a hug. "Spending time with friends is supposed to help your mood, bro," he said, looking me in the eyes. "But we'll give you space. Just don't forget us if you need to talk, or just hang out or whatever."

Chipcutter nodded. "Yeah," he said, then with a nod to me, both colts took wing.

"Sorry about that," I said to Scootaloo, after waiting a moment.

"It's fine," she said, dismissing it with a hoof.

"Um, I mean the flying thing." (I immediately regretted saying that.)

Scootaloo looked uncomfortable. "Eh, I deal with it. Of course I want to be up there with you guys, but... my closest friends are down here anyway." She put on a brave smile. "I'm super lucky to have good friends, and a couple of aunts who love me. So are you, y'know, with your friends and your mom. You and me got nothing to complain about."

"Yeah, I guess... That really does put it in perspective," I said. That was when the recess bell rang.

I wasn't as distracted that afternoon, but once my detention started I ended up ruminating about how blessed my life was. Scootaloo was right, of course. I truly didn't have anything to complain about. I was loved, well cared-for, had great friends, and the incredible disasters that happened to Ponyville every month or so rarely ended in tragedy. I lived a charmed life, and being gelded wasn't going to change any of that. My fear was completely irrational.

I felt sad, but relieved. I'd finally come to the conclusion that losing my nuts was just something I had to do. Screw whether or not it looked like I was being punished—I'd make Mom take me tomorrow. Besides, I'd probably get off the hook for my last day of detention that way.

It was around that time I looked out the window and noticed an earth mare staring at me from across the playground. She was thin, with a blue coat and pink mane. For a moment I wondered why she seemed so familiar. I thought it might be the mare who walked by me yesterday when I accidentally dropped. She kept staring and I started to get a creepy feeling.

Foal molestation is still a thing, even though it's pretty rare. A mare who saw a young colt drop, one who still has his balls? What if she was a pedofoal? What if I was the reason for it—could I have somehow turned a fully-grown mare into a pedofoal? Was this another curse stemming from my wretched cowardice?

I turned my head away, blushing. I saw her walk away in my peripheral vision. A mare who wanted to mate with a colt... not just with any colt, but with me. Mating. Some weird feeling began to stir within my loins, and I had to fight that sensation with all my might. I actually reached down and pinched my balls with one hoof, and really hard. I nearly cried from the pain. Cheerilee must have seen my face react, because she looked very concerned, but I regained my composure and she said nothing.

This was ridiculous. I was imagining terrible, immoral things because my stupid, diseased balls wanted me to imagine them. It was just some mare staring off into space, probably not even the same one from before. I finally wanted to be rid of my gonads for good, the way I should have felt a week ago. I found myself wishing the gelding clinic was open at night so I could go right now.

"Featherweight... are you alright?" asked Cheerilee. I have no idea what my face must have looked like while I was seated there wracked with guilt and self-loathing.

I nodded slowly. "I... I think I want to be a gelding," I said. "I want to be like my friends."

Her face softened. "It will happen in time," said Cheerilee, with a gentle smile. "There's no need to rush it. Your friends still respect you as a colt, don't they?"

I sighed. "Yeah. Sheesh—I guess they're not even colts anymore, are they?" I asked.

Cheerilee shook her head. "No, they're still colts. They might be gelded, but 'gelding' generally implies an adult male, and after getting your mark and being cut you still have a lot of growing left to do. Even after the gelding, you're still a foal, Featherweight. It isn't an instantaneous change to who you are. You're just... different."

"Different," I said, feeling the word awkwardly worm its way out of my muzzle. It tasted foul. "I guess."

"I think I'll end today's detention now," she said. "It's almost time, anyway. Have a nice evening."

I got up and walked slowly out of the room, my head hung low.

Nopony was waiting for me outside the school today. I figured Chip and Rumble decided to respect my wishes, so they were already off flying somewhere. I thought Scootaloo might have stopped by to check on me, but she was nowhere to be seen either. It was just as well. I didn't feel like being around other ponies.

I decided to walk home rather than fly. I hardly noticed the hoofsteps behind me, but I definitely heard the voice. It was a whisper, but it was right over my shoulder.

"Don't lift your wing until you get home," said the mare.

"What?" I said, turning around. It was the mare who had been staring at me! I was frozen in fear. Before I could react, she pushed something under my left wing with her hoof, then continued walking without looking back or saying another word.

Of course, I wanted to lift my wing and see what it was, but I didn't dare. I picked up my pace to a slow trot, eager to get home, but I was too afraid I might drop it along the way to try cantering.

"Welcome home, dear," said Mom as I entered the house. "How was school?"

"It was fine," I said. "I need some alone time though, okay? I'm kind of exhausted."

She nodded with a concerned look on her face, but didn't try to stop me. I went into my room and shut the door.

I closed my windows and leaned with my rump against my door in the off-chance Mom decided to walk into my room unannounced (even though I can't believe she would, given the circumstances). Lifting my wing, a piece of paper dropped to the floor. I caught it in my wingtip, then took it in hoof and unfolded it. It read:

Hello, Featherweight.

We know your secret.

You do not know us, but we are your friends. We want to help you, and to do this we need to talk to you. During our talk, you will be offered a choice: accept our help, or pretend the meeting never happened and continue your life as normal.

However, we will divulge your secret unless you meet with us today.

If you want to keep your secret, come to the Hayburger before Sundown. Enter any stall in the Colt's room, and wait.

Now destroy this letter. Do not share this information with anypony, or there will be negative consequences far beyond the world knowing what you have done.

I couldn't remember my heart ever beating that fast before. My vision tunneled and it felt like there was a gaping hole in my barrel.

"Wet horse apples," I whispered. "Who is this? What have I done?"

I folded the paper and placed it under my pillow (Mom had already made my bed since I was late this morning). I needed time to think, but I didn't have much time.

"Wait a minute. Why do I even care?" I said to myself. "I'm going to get cut tomorrow. Mom already knows what I've done, and even Scootaloo knows. Why would it matter..."

Then I realized. Rumble would know.

No, no. Rumble would forgive me, I reasoned. I mean, maybe not right away, but I could trust him. But, then... if everypony else knew, too, what would they think of me?

I'd be a pariah throughout Ponyville. The other foals would shun me. Adults would look at me with contempt.

"There goes Featherweight, just like his rapist father," they'd say. Mom would find out, and she'd be heartbroken. Worse yet, what if ponies found out my mother knew about it?

"She doesn't care if her colt becomes a stallion? I guess she liked being raped," they might say.

Sweet Celestia. I couldn't handle that. I just couldn't. I would never be able to live with myself. It would be like Mom getting raped all over again. It would be like I raped my own Mom. I felt sick inside, sick enough to...

I opened my door, galloped to the bathroom and vomited directly into the toilet. I'd barely made it in time.

"Feather!" said Mom, rushing in to comfort me. "What happened?"

"I, um..." I said, looking up at her worried face, and then I turned and vomited a second time.

"I'm going to get a nurse," she said.

"No!" I shouted, and wiped the sick from my chin with a fetlock. "Please, don't!"

"Feather, what... what is going on, baby?"

I looked down at the floor, thinking furiously. I didn't want to lie to Mom again, but this time I had to do it. I had to protect her from the consequences of the terrible thing I'd done.

"I, um, I ate something gross at recess because somepony dared me to," I said. "I'm okay now, I just made myself sick thinking about it."

Her brows knitted together in concern. "Feather, sweetie. You don't have to do something just because somepony dares you to!"

"I know, I know," I said. "I've just been worried because of this whole fight with Rumble thing... I know nopony cares about it, but it kinda got to me, and I wanted to impress my friends. I know it was wrong."

Mom picked me up, sat down, and cradled me in her legs. "Featherweight, don't ever do this again," she said, kissing me on the forehead. I could see how worried she looked.

"I promise I won't," I said. "Um, can we go to the Hayburger tonight?"

"Hayburger? You just threw up in the toilet and you want to eat fast food?" she said.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm kinda hungry."

"I'm already cooking dinner. It'll be much better for your stomach than hay burgers and fries," she said.

Oh no.

"I, um, I need to meet my friends there. Can I go by myself? I'll be back before Sundown."

"I'm very concerned about your health, Featherweight..."

"This is really important to me, Mom! It's my first chance to socialize outside of school after what happened, and it's an opportunity to start bringing stuff back to normal." The lies were flying naturally out of my mouth without me even needing to invent them first. Apparently my subconscious was working overtime. This frightened me, but I did everything in my power to keep it from showing in my face.

"I really don't want you going out after being sick..." she said, but my eyes started to water.

"Please?" I whispered, barely holding back tears.

Mom sighed deeply and hugged me again. "Okay, Feather. I'll save your meal in the refrigerator for tomorrow. Just be back by Sundown, like you promised."

I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Mom gave me a small bag of bits to pay for my meal. I washed my fetlocks and mouth.

Then I reread the letter, tore it to pieces, and flushed it.

And with that I was off to meet an uncertain destiny.

The Offer

After washing myself and tying the bag to my neck, I kissed Mom and headed out.

Once I'd trotted out of sight from my house, I switched to a full-tilt gallop. I'm a good flyer, but not a fast one, and I wanted to get to the Hayburger immediately. I wasn't remotely looking forward to the potential encounter but I still had to race the clock. Even though Sundown wasn't due for a couple of hours, I had everything to lose. I was terrified of what might happen if I failed to get there in time.

In retrospect, going to the Hayburger was easily the stupidest and most dangerous thing I've ever done in my life. I should have immediately reported the mare to Mom and Cheerilee, or even taken it directly to Princess Twilight Sparkle. It was obvious I was trotting into some kind of a trap. The most likely scenario was that the mare was a pedofoal (or working for one) intent on kidnapping and abusing me, but it could have been something even more sinister. Somepony who would threaten a foal like this could be capable of anything.

I was so scared, I wasn't in my right mind. But that was clearly what the anonymous pony or ponies were counting on: a frightened and desperate foal willing to do anything they asked, without question.

The restaurant was packed when I got there. At the entrance I slowed down to a walk so I'd appear less conspicuous. In the back of my mind, I wondered what might happen if Mom found out I'd lied about meeting friends here, but I couldn't risk wasting time to establish a better alibi.

As I headed for the restroom, another colt waved to me. "Hay, Featherweight, over here!" It was Skeedaddle. He was seated at a table by himself, without his family or any friends nearby him.

I turned in his direction and trotted over. "Hay, Skeedaddle. I need to hit the restroom right away, or I'd stop and chat," I said.

"Go on," he said, with a broad smile. "I'll be here when you get back, promise."

I didn't really know what Skee's deal was. He was a nice colt, but he was shy and we didn't interact much. He was older and in a different grade of the class, so we didn't share math group or anything.

Maybe he's trying to be nice because of my detention, I thought. If I eat with him, he might be able to match my story for coming here so there won't be danger of Mom finding out I lied.

It's funny that Skee was such a shy colt. Even I had to admit he was really cute for a gelding, with his chiseled jaw and wild, colorful mane and tail. I didn't think I was gay or anything like that, but the fact he was attractive was undeniable. The fillies loved him, too, but he was always so bashful around them. He was the polar opposite of Rumble, in other words.

So I nodded to Skeedaddle and cantered quickly over to the Colt's room.

The Hayburger restaurant was something of an oddity. Despite not having an old-timey theme, it had old-timey sex segregation for its restrooms. Most restrooms in Ponyville were unisex, for mares and geldings alike. Sex segregation became irrelevant after the Gelding Edict (not that it was ever a good idea, to be completely honest). But the Hayburger had high traffic, so they installed separate bathrooms so they could have a pee trough in the Colt's room. Unisex bathrooms rarely have pee troughs. Most geldings are too shy to use them with a bunch of mares around, even now.

I stepped into the Colt's room, fully expecting to find the mare who slipped me that threatening note. Even though it's the Colt's room, nopony really cares who uses it, of course. There was a gelding standing at the sink, but I didn't see anypony else, and he didn't appear to notice me.

I entered one of the stalls and sat down on the toilet. I didn't even look at the seat, but fortunately it wasn't wet. Then I heard the sound of hooves on ceramic tile, and somepony entered the stall next to mine.

"Hay," came a low, whispery voice from the adjacent stall, clearly an adult gelding. "Our conversation stops if anypony else enters the room. Do you understand?"

"Y-yeah," I said.

"I represent a group of ponies willing to help you keep your balls. We can even keep it a secret from your family and friends. Are you interested?"

"Wait, what?" I said. "How—"

I heard somepony enter the restroom, and I immediately fell silent. This pony took the stall on the other side of me. Then a second pony entered, and from the sound of it, possibly a third. I had a lot of time to sit there awkwardly and think about the bombshell offer, but it didn't help—my mind was spinning. The idea of hiding my balls seemed impossible. What was going on here?

A couple of minutes passed, and I started to worry that Skeedaddle might walk into the restroom looking for me. Then I saw a hoof reach under the wall of the stall, holding a piece of toilet paper with something written on it. I took the paper in my shaking hoof and read it.

Well?
Yes = crumple and drop
No = fold and drop

My heart pounded in my chest as I stared at the paper. I definitely did not want to keep my testicles, but I felt like saying 'no' might be dangerous. Would they still reveal my secret? Shuttering an option I had only just learned about and didn't fully understand seemed like a huge mistake. My choice was forced.

I crumpled the paper and dropped it on the floor. The hoof picked it up.

"We'll contact you," whispered the voice, even though other ponies were still clearly in the restroom. "Stay here until I leave."

I waited there for about a minute. I didn't realize I'd had to pee until I started doing it right there in the toilet as I waited. I wondered if my response had been triggered by fear alone.

After flushing, habit made me wash my hooves, then I headed out. I noticed Skeedaddle was still seated by himself, which surprised me.

"Sorry for taking so much time in there," I said, trotting up to him. "You really didn't have to wait for me."

"As long as you washed your hooves," he joked. "But I wanted to wait. We never get to talk, and I'm here by myself, which is kind of boring. I figured if you wanted to eat we could eat together."

I blushed. An older boy wanting to hang out with me? And one as handsome and shy as Skeedaddle? None of it added up, but it gave me a neigh-perfect alibi, and I wouldn't have been able to refuse him anyway. As I said, he was a nice colt.

"S-sure," I said.

We took a seat, and Pinkie Pie skated by. "Are you finally ready to order?" she asked Skeedaddle. "I see you have company now!"

"Hay, Pinkie. How do you have time to work here and at Sugarcube Corner?" I asked her, trying to distract myself from the situation. (Besides, I was curious.) "Not to mention teaching at the School of Friendship and saving the world...?"

"Ooh, good question," said Skeedaddle.

"Hmm. I dunno?" said Pinkie. "I only work here one night a week. I can't resist it because this is the only job in town where I get to wear roller skates! It's more like a game than a job!"

"Ooh, good answer," said Skeedaddle.

Pinkie hoofed us both menus. "I already know what I want," I said, and ordered a double cheese hayburger with hay bacon and onion fries, and a cola. Skee was ready too, which was no surprise since he'd been sitting here for several minutes at least. I don't remember what he ordered. Pinkie took the menus and skated off, doing a headstand with her forehooves doing the skating.

While we waited for our food, Skee and I talked. He'd already spoken to me more in the past ten minutes than he had since I first met him, and he still seemed unusually enthusiastic.

"Sorry about your detention," he said. "That must suck."

"Not really," I replied. "I deserve worse."

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You got angry. It happens," he said. "Rumble forgives you, right?"

"Yeah. He's a pretty special bud," I said.

"He's cute, too. He'll go far in life, just like his brother," said Skeedaddle.

I thought the 'cute' comment was a little weird. I was thinking that about Skee himself right when he said it, but I'd never tell him that!

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm still upset about what happened, though. I'll feel a lot better about this once I'm finally a gelding."

Skeedaddle's nostrils flared and his brows rose slightly. I hadn't expected him to react with surprise. "Really? Um, you don't need to rush things, Feather. It's nice to have balls while you have them."

Pinkie delivered our food on that line, and I sat there in mild shock as he began to eat. I stared down at my meal, then took a big bite myself. It gave me a little time to think.

"You're a gelding," I finally said, my voice muffled by half-chewed sandwich. "I mean, you don't miss your balls, do you?"

Skee swallowed and took a drink of whatever beverage he'd ordered. "I'm just saying there's nothing wrong with having them while you're a colt, that's all," he said, sidestepping an answer to my question. "They're a part of your body, after all."

"Yeah..." I said, uncertain where the conversation was headed.

I carefully thought back in my mind. I was certain Skeedaddle was a gelding already. He was definitely old enough for it, and he hung out mainly with older geldings. He was shy around fillies, unlike Rumble, but fillies liked him anyway. Fillies don't usually take after colts who haven't been cut yet.

Then again, he was incredibly cute.

I decided to broach the topic again. "So, do you miss them?" I asked.

"It was brave of you to defend your balls like you did in class that one day," he said, changing the subject. "If you're scared of being castrated, that's totally normal. It isn't something to be ashamed of."

"I... yeah, I guess," I said. "I've just been waiting for so long. It'll be a relief to finally be like my friends."

"You already are like them, Feather," he said, placing a hoof on mine. "You belong to the herd, one hundred percent. Your balls don't make you a bad pony. Okay?"

I nodded slowly, finishing up my food. "I guess so. Maybe I shouldn't worry so much." I didn't really mean it. I just didn't know what else to say.

It seemed to satisfy him, though, as his ears pricked up and he cracked a warm smile. "That's the spirit."

"You don't mind if I run off?" I said, between sips of my Colta-Cola. "I need to get home before Sundown and I'm a little worried about being late. I appreciate you spending time with me." All of that was true. At least one thing had gone right for me today.

"No problem, friend," he said. "I'll see you around."

Friend. The sentiment warmed my innards, even if it seemed premature. I blushed, and trotted off.

I turned my head to catch a glimpse under Skee's tail as I left, however. I was able to get a clear shot of his trimmed sac and scar. He was a gelding, naturally. For some reason I felt relieved by this, then I realized why. What if the ponies blackmailing me had gotten to him too? It must have been in the back of my mind while talking to him. I was starting to see dark shadows all around me.

Still, like a cow with her cud, my mind wouldn't stop ruminating. It seemed impossible that a colt could hide keeping his balls. Colts rarely wear pants or skirts or anything like that, and you gotta move your tail sometime. Besides, when you first get gelded, everypony is going to check!

The offer I'd received didn't make any sense. You can't pretend to be gelded. So how could I possibly keep my nuts without Mom knowing? Something wasn't right here.

There was still one possibility: unicorn magic. But it seemed super unlikely, and what I knew of unicorn magic (which as a pegasus colt, wasn't much) suggested this was still impossible. It would need to be some kind of an illusion spell and those can't be maintained for very long, unless maybe you're a changeling or something. For all I knew, changelings didn't even have balls.

Regardless, It didn't matter. It was clear I'd just fulfilled my part of the bargain, and what did these weirdos have to gain by threatening me, anyway? They might try to contact me again or something, but I'd just refuse.

Just to be safe, I decided I wouldn't get gelded tomorrow after all. I'd take an extra day to think things over just in case there was something I hadn't considered carefully, since this had all happened so fast. I could do it early on Saturday instead, and then my nightmare would finally be over. One more day with balls wouldn't kill me.

I'd still have to suffer through detention Friday, but I felt like I deserved it, so it wasn't a big deal. It'd probably be cathartic, even, now that I'd resolved to have my testicles removed like a civilized pony.

I decided to sleep with the feather once again. I didn't want to deal with Mom finding a big emission. The thought disgusted me. Besides, I only had two more nights of this, and then I'd finally be cured.

As I lay in bed that evening with an uncomfortable quill poking my penis, something weird about my dinner with Skeedaddle floated to the surface.

He had used the word 'castrated'.

To my knowledge, I hadn't heard that word before Mom said it to me me a couple of days ago. It was like a dirtier version of 'gelded', I recalled. Less civilized, she'd told me.

Very unusual. Then again, Cheerilee once told us about a psychological effect where you hear a word or an idea for the first time, then it seems to pop up all over the place. This had happened to me a few times before, so it was probably just that.

Still, it was unsettling. Even though I had no reason to question Skeedaddle's motives, I felt like I couldn't trust him... or anypony else, for that matter. I knew the feeling wasn't rational, of course. So what if he used that word? My anxiety had nothing to do with his actions. He was a totally normal gelding. I had been so affected by this blackmail that I was turning into a paranoiac. This whole mess was probably just some pony's idea of a prank, for friendship's sake.

Fortunately, my luck is about to turn, I thought. I only had to endure one more day as a colt. I was certain that lopping off my gonads would mercifully take all my suspicions and fears with them.

If only I'd been right.

...

The feather pain was pretty bad Thursday night so I didn't get much sleep. I was tired in the morning and not looking forward to another school day with my balls still intact, even if it was going to be my very last.

"Featherweight, you're going to be late for school," Mom called. She finally entered my room and gently lifted the covers to help me get up.

Mom's eyes widened and her mouth gaped. I had no idea why, and I was too groggy to put the pieces together.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Feather, baby, I don't want to pry into your personal space, but what is this?" she asked, pulling off the tape and removing the quill from my sheath. "You could hurt yourself! Is this some kind of... masturbation?" Mom grimaced, clearly afraid of trampling on my feelings.

"Huh? Oh. Oh! Eww, no," I said, sticking out my tongue distastefully. "I use that to keep from having emissions at night. I've done it ever since the first one I had a week ago. It pokes me and wakes me up."

My mother's eyes began to mist up. "Son, do you think I would judge you? I already know you've had an emission, for Celestia's sake."

I turned my head away. "I'm sorry. I just... I don't want you to ever have to deal with it."

"It wouldn't bother me at all. Doesn't it hurt?" she asked, gently petting my mane.

I nodded. "Yeah, a lot when it pokes. It's hard to sleep too," I said, recoiling from her hoof out of shame and clambering out of bed onto shaky hooves. "It doesn't matter now. I wanna go to the clinic tomorrow, so I only need to use the feather for one more night."

"I'm relieved to hear that you're ready to grow up, but Feather you are not to do this to yourself again," Mom admonished me. "I can't believe you would hurt yourself like this."

I paused and stretched my wings, then looked her dead in the eye. "Then you don't know what it's like to be a colt," I said, flatly. Her face fell, and I felt sour in the pit of my stomach. "Wait, I don't mean it like that..."

"No, sweetie. You're right. I don't know what it's like to be a colt, and in a way, I'm fortunate for that," she said, frowning. "I don't mean there's anything wrong with who you are, mind you. Being a colt is a very wonderful thing, but what you're going through right now is frightening and embarrassing, and it shouldn't be like this. It simply shouldn't. Every mother wants to protect her foals from pain and suffering, but this just isn't something I have the power to protect you from. How I wish I did."

I pursed my lips for a moment. "No... it's a good thing. I need to learn to protect myself without you always being there, y'know? Life isn't supposed to be painless, and I gotta be an adult about stuff someday. It might as well be now." I smiled weakly, and Mom pulled me up into a tight hug.

"That's an incredibly brave and mature thing to say, Feather," she said, sniffling. "But even when you're fully grown, you'll still be my baby. You got that?"

I blushed. "Ah, Mom," I said.

Maybe she was right about the mature part, but certainly not the brave part. I've always been a coward.

Mom threw the feather away, but she forgot to make me promise not to do it again. I hadn't agreed to squat, and that was good enough for me. I planned to pluck another primary (ouch) and use the trick again that night. The pain was bad, but it was worth it to save Mom from my vileness.

After a quick breakfast I headed off to school. As I trotted to the schoolhouse, a familiar-looking mare approached me. I quickly realized it was the mare who had slipped me the note!

I probably should have run away or screamed or something, but I just froze in place. I hadn't thought this through, and I didn't know what to do. While I stood there like a deer caught in a flashlight, she walked right up to me.

"Follow me," she said. It was clear by her tone of voice that this wasn't a request.

"Wait," I said. "What's this about?"

"You know what it's about. Are you coming or not?" she asked.

"I... I don't know."

"You'll be grateful, I promise. I'm only asking you to follow." She began to tap her rear right hooftip on the cobblestone path.

"I'll get in trouble for skipping school," I pointed out, hoping that might sway her.

She smiled. "We have an excuse for you. You'll be fine," she cooed gently. Then she firmly stomped her hoof twice and began to walk away.

Like a mesmerized idiot, I followed her. I'm still not sure why.

At some point along the walk, when nopony was watching us, her body shimmered and shifted to a different form. She was a unicorn using an illusion spell! In her real form (assuming this was it) she was a yellow unicorn with nurse scrubs on. She had a striped, strawberry-colored, teased-up mane.

The transformation unnerved me, but I kept following her anyway. I actually felt more compelled to follow her now, worried she might use magic to do something nasty to me if I turned and ran. She led me into a building I didn't recognize from behind, using the back entrance.

Inside were white hallways. This was clearly a clinic of some sort. There were doctors and nurses walking around. My guide walked me to a room, opened the door, and ushered me in.

Just inside the door, I froze yet again. An elderly earth pony doctor, prepped for surgery, stood in front of a gelding device just like the one Rumble had described. It might even be the same doctor, I realized. Beside him sat a sterile-blocked table with knives, syringes, and clamps. The nurse pushed me in further and shut the door. Before I could react, she clamped her hoof firmly over my mouth.

"We're not going to geld you," she said. "Don't make any noise." Then she removed her hoof.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I nodded softly. "No... no, this is okay. It's a trap and I fell for it. You can geld me." Without hesitation, I walked right up to the terrifying device and climbed into it. My legs were shaking, but that didn't stop me. I knew this was the right thing to do and that was all that mattered. I put my feet into the stirrups and set my forelegs on the little leg tables.

"Featherweight, we're serious," said the nurse. "It's going to be okay."

"Strap me in," I said, ignoring her. "Why... why isn't my mother here? Is she ashamed of me?" I asked. I couldn't believe Mom wouldn't be by my side. She loved me and would be there for me in my time of need. Surely she knew about this elaborate farce?

"We are not gelding you," the doctor repeated from behind me, his voice muffled by the surgical mask. I felt my hind legs being strapped into the cold metal stirrups, and my sac shriveled up toward my body in response.

"I don't understand," I said. "Aren't you the guy who gelded Rumble?"

"I'm very sorry about your friend," said the doctor. "Of course I would have saved him if I were able to, but his mother was present. There was to way no pseudo-geld him and get away with it."

"Pseudo-geld?" I asked. "What's that?"

"That's the procedure I'm preparing for right now," answered the doctor. "It's a fake gelding, essentially."

"No. You're kidding," I said, turning my head to the side in a failed attempt to see behind me. "This is some kind of sick joke, right?"

"No joke," said the nurse as she finished strapping my forelegs to the small side cushions. She smiled at me. "When we're done, you'll look just like a gelding, but you'll still have your testicles intact."

My eyes widened and I struggled helplessly against my bonds. "No, don't!" I yelped, feeling the cool air kiss the sweat forming on my brow. "Please! I want to be a gelding! I don't want you to do this to me!"

"Nurse, distraction please," ordered the doctor.

The nurse kissed me gently on my lips. I reflexively pulled my head away, though with my mobility restricted I only managed to get an inch from her muzzle.

"Relax," said the nurse, kissing me again as she held my head in place.

"No!" I shouted into her lips, and she pulled away. "I'm only a colt! Why would you do something like that?"

"Nurse!" said the doctor.

The nurse sighed dejectedly, but quickly pulled out a metal bit. She shoved it into my mouth and tied it around my neck. "I'm sorry this has to be uncomfortable, but we're trying to save you, Featherweight. We can't have you drawing attention or you'll ruin everything."

I immediately began to drool onto my chin. (Of course, pegasus ponies don't have nearly the drool control of earth ponies.) I tried to speak, but it hurt my throat and mouth. Pretty much all I could do to make sound was whine through my nostrils.

My crying came on so quickly it shocked me. With my ears flat back against my mane, I twisted my head left and right rapidly in an obvious "NO" motion. Tears streamed down my cheeks and my spit dripped onto the floor.

"It's too late for that now," said the nurse. "But don't worry! This isn't going to hurt or harm you in any way." Her voice wavered as she said the words. Clearly she had empathy for my situation, but she was letting it happen to me anyway.

She began to pet my mane gently. I recoiled as much as I could from her hoof, which wasn't much. I didn't want to be touched. I didn't want any of this to happen to my body. I wanted it to stop with every fiber of my being, and I would have done almost anything to end it, but I didn't have any choice in the matter.

Then, in a moment of pure insight, it all became clear.

This is what rape feels like. I'm being raped.

Against all logic, realizing this calmed me. Mom had endured rape for me, hadn't she? Now it was my turn to experience it. In a way, it was almost like I was taking her place. In some twisted part of my mind, this made poetic sense.

At the time, I even felt like I deserved to be raped. Seven days ago I'd sealed my fate by being the miserable coward I was. I deserved to be raped more than Mom ever did. What did she do wrong? She showed compassion for a poor drifter. What did I do? I was selfish, and showed no compassion for what my actions might do to my friends and family, let alone all of society.

Of course I didn't truly deserve it—I know that now. Nopony deserves what I went through. I was just a scared, helpless foal. A small part of me probably understood that, but I was doing what ponies do naturally when they get raped: rationalizing the situation so I could survive the ordeal. If I hadn't blamed myself, I might have lost my bucking mind.

"I'm cleansing the area," he said, and I felt a gentle scrub.

I cried and continued to thrash my head around as I felt something cool touch my scrotum. I tensed against his touch, wishing I could be anywhere other than here. I wanted to be gelded, and I was about to become some kind of freak instead! If only his filthy glove-covered hoof were anywhere else...

"We need to sedate him," said the nurse. "He's breaking, doctor—we can't continue like this."

Oh, thank Celestia.

But just then, something absolutely horrible crossed my mind.

I imagined my mother standing in front of me, watching me go through this and comforting me, the way gelding was intended to be. I pictured her hurting inside because she could feel my pain... but empathy wasn't the only reason she was suffering.

Mom was embarrassed of me. She was ashamed that her son was so weak.

Right then, I resolved it didn't matter whether what they were doing to me was criminal and wrong. I wasn't going to go down like this, crying like a baby and fighting them tooth and hoof.

So my body went completely limp. I had to let these strangers rape me. I owed that to Mom. No matter how frightening this was, no matter how much it screwed me up inside, I would endure it. I felt a numbness in my core, and my emotions dissociated completely from the rest of my mind. I became an empty piece of wood. In my confused young mind, it was the only way I could survive the experience and still honor my mother.

I guess it goes without saying that I'm still not over this. I don't know if I ever will be. But I need to be strong, like Mom. She's my inspiration. I want to be more like her. She survived something so hideous I can't even imagine it, not even after this experience. I'd like to think I've inherited her unique force of will. If only I had her courage.

"Prepare a ketamine IM injection," said the doctor. "Featherweight, please relax. We won't continue until you are comfortable."

I shook my head gently.

"You... don't want to be sedated?" asked the nurse.

I shook my head, now lying motionless.

The doctor cleared his throat. "Er... I still think we should sedate him..." It was strange to hear a doctor pondering an important decision out loud rather than confidently barking an order. It was obvious he didn't know what he was doing. He gelded boys for a living, probably without psychologically scarring a single one, yet he had no idea how to handle what he'd already done to my brain.

The gelding procedure was well-established. If a young colt showed any sign of resistance before a geld, they'd give him a special candy to make him drowsy, then sedate him completely so there would be no trauma. Gelding was never anything like this. Why was my case different? Maybe he was afraid I'd tell on them. Obviously what they were doing to me was extremely illegal.

Might they kill me? Am I a dangerous liability? The thought turned over and over in my mind. Despite the adrenaline rushing through my veins, I willed them to ice and stayed calm. This was just something I had to do.

"Are you sure you don't want to be sedated, Featherweight?" asked the nurse, as I looked into her frightened eyes with my red and bleary ones. "It won't hurt you, and it will make the process much more comfortable. I really think we should do it."

"Nod if you want to be sedated," clarified the doctor. "Shake your head if you do not."

I shook my head. It must have looked effortless, but that simple motion of my neck was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

This is my fault. Just rape me. I deserve to feel all of it.

"This is ridiculous. I'm doing it anyway," said the nurse. "We can't take chances with a young colt's mental health."

"No, don't," ordered the doctor. "It looks like he'll be fine. Besides, it will be much easier to get him out of the clinic unnoticed if he isn't recovering from sedation."

Ah, that's why.

The nurse looked like she was about to cry, so I stopped making eye contact with her. I closed my eyes and lay there, strapped down, as a strange old gelding squeezed and prodded my genitals against my consent. Or maybe he was a secret stallion, like he was trying to make me? It didn't matter.

"I'm going to give you some local anesthetic now, Featherweight. You'll feel a small poke."

I felt a small poke in my left testicle. It hurt very briefly. I found myself wishing he would do the right thing and just remove it from my body. I wanted to be normal like my friends. I hoped with all my might that this was just a crazy hallucination and I wasn't becoming a monster, but I couldn't trick myself into believing that. Mom would have been here for me if I were being gelded. That meant I wasn't being gelded. I was being mutilated.

The numbness spread quickly. "Another poke," he said, and this time it was my right testicle.

"Kleeeess kellk lneee," I slurred through the bit, my voice horse. Unfortunately, it was hard to hear what I was trying to say. I was begging to be gelded. I opened my eyes and saw the nurse wipe away a tear as she stared at me. She understood.

"I'm so sorry. We can't geld you now," she whispered to me, petting my wet cheeks. "This is how it has to be. But dear, I promise you, you'll be glad we did this when you're older. I promise."

Again I closed my eyes. Useless.

And so, the rape continued.

"You'll feel a poke between your testicles and your anal ridge," said the doctor, and so I did. The area quickly went numb. This time it took longer for the injection to complete (I could tell from the amount of pressure I felt). "That's all the poking, Featherweight. You can relax now. You won't feel anything else, except a little bit of pressure inside your gut near the end of the procedure. I'm still going to tell you what I'm doing as I do it, alright?"

My rear legs spasmed uncontrollably for a brief moment, then fell quiet again. I didn't care what he was doing to me. The medical details were irrelevant. He was turning me into a criminal just like my rapist father. Nothing else mattered.

"Now we need to wait a few minutes while you get completely numb, so try to relax," he said.

The nurse petted my face and tried to wipe my eyes. I shut them tighter in response. Eventually she sighed and stepped away from me, and I relaxed again.

Maybe it was just a few minutes, but it felt like an hour. The wait was awful. It was getting hard for me to breathe. I was just laying there, waiting for my violation to begin all over again. I wouldn't be able to feel his touch anymore, but the doctor was going to tell me each and every terrible thing he did to me as he did them. I was powerless to stop him. Even with my eyes shut, I continued to cry. I didn't feel sad (or anything other than numb), but I cried anyway. At least I drooled less now. Apparently, I was running out of spit faster than I was running out of tears.

Finally, the doctor spoke again. "I'm going to make a large incision in your scrotum so I can manipulate your testicles," he said. My heart pounded rapidly in my chest, but I barely noticed. I was completely numb, both physically and mentally. There was nothing left for me to feel.

My imagination was very vivid, however, and it still tormented me. Visions of him slicing me up and shoving my diseased testicles up deep inside me were inescapable.

"Now I'm taking a special device and using it to press your gonads partially up into your body. This is a small piece of plastic that will stay inside of you," he explained. "It will make the remnant of your sac appear smooth and hide the testicles inside from view."

A rape memento. A permanent part of my body.

"Kleeeess kellk lneee," I repeated raspily, keeping my eyes shut. Please geld me! The nurse said nothing, but I could hear a soft sobbing sound coming from just in front of me. Now she was crying, too, and she wasn't emotionally numb like I was.

"This stage will take some time to perform. The spermatic cords are very long, and they need to be secured behind the device, which is difficult," he told me.

A sniffle, then a stomp of a hoof sounded in front of me. "Horsefeathers! Doctor, I don't care what he wants, I am giving him the ketamine," said the nurse, her voice cracking.

The surgeon sighed. "We're getting close to finishing, but... yes, you're probably right. Go ahead," he said.

I took in a deep, ragged breath and exhaled. I didn't deserve relief, or so I thought, but I was beyond grateful it was coming. (If only they could have removed my memories along with my consciousness.)

"Listen carefully to me, Featherweight," said the nurse. I opened my eyes, but now she was over by my side where I couldn't see her easily. "You're going to need assistance after your sedation, which I will provide. As for living with your pseudo-geld, we'll have somepony contact you tomorrow. Make sure you remember that, okay?"

I nodded my head in the affirmative. I had no interest in the conversation, I just hoped it would speed my unconsciousness.

"Open your mouth and lift your tongue," she said, and I obeyed. She placed something under my tongue that tasted like strawberries. "Close your mouth. That pill will help with the nausea the ketamine may cause."

"Your story is that you came to the clinic yourself, begged to be gelded, and found a doctor willing to do it without notifying your family, but you don't remember who the doctor was because of the ketamine," said my surgeon/rapist. "There will be no chart of your admission. There may be an investigation, but ultimately nopony will care because a healthy gelding is always a good outcome."

"It'll be okay, dear," whispered the nurse, "although this will feel strange for a few moments." I felt a painful stick right in the cutie mark, but I didn't wince. Pain was too much like an emotion, and those didn't exist anymore.

What happened next is impossible to describe, but I can try. Numbness quickly filled me: first my lips and hooves, then the rest of my body. I started thinking about rape, and the thoughts turned in on themselves: thinking about thinking about rape, about thinking about rape, about rape, rape, ...repeating patterns filled my vision, and nothing seemed to matter or mind because it wasn't really matter or mind or me anymore. Everything happened for a reason, and I was a random pattern inside a fleshy body inside a physical mass of atoms, I wasn't even real because nothing was real, and I didn't hurt because I wasn't Featherweight. I was watching myself not-suffer, and I was happy, and lost, and happy and empty/full and the rape, the rape, the rape, rape, Rape, Rape... the sWeEt RaPe... Rrrrrrr . . .

Amid the indescribable chaos, I blacked out.

Still Best Buds

Waiting for Mom to wake was a gauntlet of pain. I couldn't bring myself to wake her early (although if she hadn't awoken right when her clock went off, I would have). The pain wasn't as bad as it had been yesterday, but the ache of my balls being squeezed was a constant unpleasant distraction. I wondered whether real geldings ever had to deal with anything like that. Maybe some of them get phantom pain, but they never talk about it...

After Mom got up, I took my morning antibiotic and a narcotic. Then I went back to my room to sit and think. Something crossed my mind as the sweet euphoria began to tickle my feathers. Mom had said something remarkable last night, something I'd almost forgotten:

"Whether you wanted her help isn't the point."

I realized she was right. Here I'd been blaming myself for everything, but it didn't matter whether or not I wanted this horrible procedure done to me. What they did to me was still wrong. I was young and vulnerable, and they used me. What I wanted them to do wasn't the issue, was it? This was something they wanted to do to me. They probably wanted to 'pseudo' me—or whichever colt they could get their dirty hooves on—long before the brief lapses of judgment I had in which I'd sort-of agreed to it.

I was still responsible for my part of the mess, of course. I felt like I could never let Mom find out what they did to me, because I deserved a big part of the blame. I refused to bring that kind of shame upon her. But I wasn't a monster solely of my own making, and this provided me a small comfort.

It was almost enough to let me forgive myself.

So, I rested up. For a while I took notes on what had happened (my notes are the only reason this story is mostly accurate). I was careful to use code words so it would read like nonsense to anypony else. After a couple of hours, Mom knocked on my door.

"Sweetie, Rumble's here," she called. "Are you feeling good enough to see him?"

I paused in fear for a moment, then decided talking to Rumble wasn't dangerous. The last two days had placed me in a state of shell shock, apparently. "Yeah, I'll come out," I said. I took a deep breath, opened the door, and trotted out to meet him in the kitchen.

"Hay there, brave guy!" he said, and he gave me a tight hug. "Congrats! Why didn't you take me with you? I was serious when I said I'd be there!"

I blushed. "Ah, um... it's just something I had to do. Um, I guess Mom told you?"

"I didn't say a word. I thought you told him?" said Mom.

"Rumble, are we talking about the same thing?" I asked. I turned around and lifted tail to make it unambiguous.

"Yeah, dude. Wow, you've got some major swelling there," he said, and I turned back around. "Skeedaddle told us. He says he saw you go into the gelding clinic yesterday with your mom."

I looked up at Mom. She bit at her lower lip, then turned away from us. I guess she was leaving it up to me.

I sighed and looked Rumble in the eye. "Actually... I went by myself," I said. "It was stupid."

"Wait, what?" said Rumble. "What does that mean?"

"I mean, I went without Mom or anypony," I said, shrugging.

"That's... crazy. You're kidding." Rumble looked horrified, which kind of shocked me.

Shaking my head, I said, "No, I'm serious. Like I said, it was dumb."

"How? I can't believe they'd do you without your mom being there! That's insane!"

Not waiting for me to respond, Mom turned back to face us. "Rumble, Featherweight found a mare who pretended to be me. I'd like to know if anypony saw her, because we still don't know who she is. What she did was very wrong. I don't blame Feather, but the mare should have known better."

"That's really weird. What did she look like?" Rumble asked me.

"Feather was sedated, so he forgot most of the details," said Mom.

"Oh, um. They didn't sedate me right away," I quickly interjected. "They had already cut into me and they were almost done actually, but it got... complicated."

I saw Mom wince and hold her hoof to her face. It looked like she was trying not to cry. I felt awful inside.

"But Mom's right. I don't remember much about her," I added.

"Why, dude? Why would you do this?" asked Rumble. "Are you okay?"

"I just... I needed to prove I could do it, after everything that happened," I said. "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Heavenly Sun. You're the bravest colt in the universe," he said, whistling.

"Stop saying that about me," I said, frowning. I must have looked angry because Rumble backed up a step.

"Guy, it's fine," he said. "I don't know why you're rustled, but... I'm just glad you're okay, and I'm proud of you. Alright?"

I closed my eyes. "Sorry," I said. "I don't know why I'm sensitive about it. I'm still upset about hitting you, and... there's more stuff but I don't wanna talk about it now. Maybe later, okay?" I opened my eyes. Rumble was smiling.

"Sure thing," he said, and hugged me again. "Hay, I brought friends with me. They're waiting outside. C'mon!"

"Feather, stay close to home and don't do anything physically exerting," said Mom.

Rumble led me outside. Standing there were three colts from our grade and Scootaloo (but she's practically a colt anyway). The boys were Chipcutter, Snips, and Snails. For some reason Skeedaddle was there, too, but I assumed it was because he was the one who told Rumble what he saw.

"Congratulations!" shouted everypony.

"Heh, thanks," I said, feeling a surprising uptick in my mood.

I wondered why that felt good, because I was obviously a liar who didn't deserve any accolades. Maybe what I'd endured was so horrible, that even though I'd done something wrong, I deserved at least a little love. I was definitely grateful to be on the other side of the nightmare.

If only I could still become a gelding, I thought. But I'll find a way.

Then Mom stepped outside and faced us.

"Are you Skeedaddle?" asked Mom, her gaze as penetrating as a cockatrice's. "Young colt, I need to ask you about the mare you saw Featherweight with yesterday."

"I... didn't see any mare with Featherweight," said Skeedaddle. "I just saw him enter the clinic through the front door. Wasn't he with you?"

"I see," said Mom, and her face fell. "No, Featherweight found a mare who pretended to be me, so he could go to the clinic by himself. I'm not mad at him, but I need to learn who this mare was."

"He doesn't remember who she is because they had to sedate him halfway through," said Rumble.

"Ouch," said Snips. "That sounds awful!"

"Uhh, why didn't you want your mom to go with you?" asked Snails.

Scootaloo knitted her brow. "Feather, I know you felt like you needed to prove something, but you shouldn't feel that way. Your friends are here for you, and that includes your mom."

"I... I know," I said, but my mind was elsewhere as I puzzled over what Skee had just said.

How could Skeedaddle have seen me enter through the front door of the clinic when I entered through the back?

Mom closed the door to the house. "I'll be back before lunch, son." She trotted in the direction of the clinic, wings lifted high in an aggressive posture, clearly ready to raise Tartarus. I tried not to think about it.

"I guess you're too sore to go flying or anything," said Chipcutter. "Do you need to stay inside today?"

"You should see his geld," said Rumble. "It's super swollen. I'd wanna stay in if I were him, but Feather's kind of a bad dude, so who knows? Going to the clinic without your family is nuts. Pun intended." He grinned.

"Yeah, I need to stay in. It's pretty sore back there. But thanks for coming, everypony. It really means a lot to me," I said.

"You bet," said Scootaloo. "Don't be crazy anymore, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, the magic of friendship," said Rumble, rolling his eyes. I cracked a smile, despite how insecure I felt.

Then I turned to Skee. "Hay, Skeedaddle? Can I talk to you for a little bit? I wanted to ask you something."

A strange look crossed Rumble's face, but then he nodded. "Catch you later, Feather. Kay?" he asked. I nodded back, and the herd began to disperse.

Skeedaddle was smiling, but I wasn't. I invited him into my house and walked him to my room.

"Nice place," he said. When we got to my room, I shut the door.

"You didn't actually see me enter the clinic, did you?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.

He grinned sheepishly and shrugged. "Nope. Glad you had the sense not to call me on it in front of your mom."

"Then how did you know I got cut?"

Skeedaddle took a deep breath. "Because I'm a stallion, like you," he whispered. He turned around and lifted tail. He looked like a gelding, but the remainder of his sac bulged out a little more than normal.

"Oh! Sheesh, I should have known. So that's why you were talking to me."

"Yes and no," said Skeedaddle. "I think you're pretty cool in general, Featherweight. You're a great photographer, and you're fun to be around. Even though you're younger than I am, I'd love to be your friend, balls or no balls."

I eyed him suspiciously. "If you say so. Wait, are you the one who was supposed to contact me?"

"In the pelt," he said, with a grin. "Your mom is going to the clinic to figure out what happened to you, huh?"

"Yeah. The doctor told me he wouldn't make a chart for me so I dunno what'll happen. Wait, will they say they didn't save my testicles?"

Skee shook his head. "No, that'd be front page news and they'd turn the clinic upside down. They'll store sheep testicles instead. There's plenty of those that never get used."

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. "I guess I'll never be a father, but I'm sure that's for the best."

"What? Don't be silly! The best part about being a stallion is you can make kids the all-natural way," he said, and winked at me.

"Eww, gross," I said, sticking out my tongue. "Sorry. I'm really not into girls yet. Besides, I'd have to tell her, wouldn't I?"

"Not necessarily. You could hide it if you 'do it' right after the fake insemination," he said. "She might not notice you squirt, and sheep sperm won't do a thing to a mare."

"That's even grosser!" I said. I'm sure my muzzle had a nasty look on it.

"Yeah, I guess. What was your cover story again? They lost your chart or something?"

"The doctor wanted me to say that, but you heard Mom. I told her some mare pretended to be her, which the nurse kinda did. I thought that sounded more believable."

Skeedaddle's eyes widened. "Crap! Featherweight, you can't change your story! This could be a mess..." He stared into the distance as the wheels turned in his head. "Okay. I have to run to the clinic and try to warn them. Stay here."

"I, um... right," I said, not knowing what else to say. Skee immediately ran out of the house and went full gallop toward the clinic.

I shut the front door and returned to my room. For a brief moment, I hoped the lies would come crashing down on the bastards who did this to me. Then I remembered my part in this. I was already tangled so tightly in this web of deception I couldn't afford for anything to go wrong.

I started to write stuff down again, but it didn't last long. After about ten minutes there came a knock on the front door. I figured it was Mom or maybe Skeedaddle.

To my surprise, it was Rumble. He was frowning.

"Are... are you okay?" I asked. "Can you come in?"

He nodded and entered. I started to walk to my room, but he stayed pat in the kitchen. "Feather, can we talk?"

"Of course, buddy!" I said, wheeling about and hiding my anxiety behind a fake smile. Great. Now what have I done?

Rumble fussed with a fetlock and looked at the floor. "I know Skeedaddle is really cool. I... I just need to know if we're still, like, best buds and all," he said, his voice very soft.

"What? Dude, you're my best friend!" I said. "You know that."

He sighed deeply and nodded, finally looking up into my eyes. "Th-thanks," he said.

"Why in Equestria would you think I didn't like you anymore?"

"It's not that, it's just... I bet Skee is a great friend. And you deserve him. You're a real badass, Feather. I can't believe what you went through," he said.

I wanted to say it was no big deal, but the lie wouldn't exit my mouth. He was right, more than he knew. What I went through was unbelievable. But he was wrong about the rest of it.

"I'm the same coward I've always been," I said, hoofing against the floor.

"Why do you always say that about yourself?" said Rumble, his brow furrowing in anger. "You're always talking down about all the great stuff you can do! What you did yesterday was amazing!"

I swallowed hard. "Look, I have to fess up about something," I said, feeling a small weight lift from my withers. "I had my first emission Friday."

"Right. And you just went to get gelded without telling your mom."

"No, Rumble. Last Friday." Now it was my turn to look down at the floor.

"Okay, and?"

"What? I just told you. I tried to hide from gelding for like, a whole week!"

"Dude. So what?" said Rumble, with a snort. "Lots of colts hide it. That's totally normal."

"You didn't try to hide!" I said. "Wait. Did you?"

Rumble shook his head. "No, but I almost did. Like I told you, it took a lot of time for me to decide. It's not an easy choice."

"It isn't a choice. Er, not that it should be, but still."

"Exactly. That's why it isn't easy. Nopony wants to have something major done to them without getting to choose," said Rumble. "There's no shame in hiding it, Featherweight. It doesn't make you a coward, either. Did you really think I'd think less of you?"

Tears started to form in my eyes. "I guess I did."

Rumble hugged me tight, and I barely held back the waterworks. I think the medication helped. My mind felt floaty and my anxiety felt somewhat muted, even though I could feel the tension in my muscles that usually accompanies it. I hugged my friend back for a few moments, then he let go.

"You have to stop doing this to yourself. You're like, mental," said Rumble. "It's like... and please, don't hit me again, but..."

"I'm afraid of becoming my father. Yeah, I know. I really am," I said.

At that moment, the truth hit me in the pit of my stomach. My fears had come true, hadn't they? Maybe I wasn't a monster like my father, but I'd chosen the same path he had, and I could never tell Rumble what I'd done.

I immediately started to cry, and I sat down on the floor.

"Ah gosh," said Rumble, and he sat next to me and held me. "It's okay, colt. Really. You're nothing like... whatever he was."

"I'm m-more like him than you know," I sobbed, and grabbed a dish towel next to me to dry my eyes.

"Oh, Featherweight. You're the strongest pony I've ever met," said Rumble. "Even counting my brother. I know you don't want me saying it but it's true. I... I'll just shut up now."

Rumble kept one leg around me and pet my mane until I started to calm down.

"You wanna be alone?" he finally asked me. "I'm fine being here for you, if that's okay."

"I... I dunno what I want," I said. "Colt, I'm so lucky to have a friend like you."

Rumble blushed. "Ah, well, you deserve it."

Maybe I did deserve it, I thought. Maybe I'm not a terrible pony inside. I just made a couple of terrible mistakes.

"Thank you, Rumble."

"Don't mention it," he said. "Seriously, don't tell anypony. I have a reputation to maintain."

I chuckled. "Um, okay," I said.

"I'm just kidding," he added, with a wink. "That was a joke. I ain't embarrassed of you."

There was another knock at the door, which I assumed was Mom. Despite looking like an emotional wreck, I hopped up and answered it.

"I was able to get there in time..." said Skeedaddle. "Whoa. Are you okay?"

I sniffled and nodded. "Yeah, just... dealing," I said. Rumble walked up next to me.

"It was a tough geld," said Rumble, clearly defending me in advance. "I can't imagine being there without family."

"I'm sure it was," said Skeedaddle, still outside the house. "Um, do you wanna chat later, then?"

"If that's okay," I said. "Stop by this afternoon, I guess?"

"Will do," he said. "Rest up. And, um... remember, you don't need to talk about anything that happened to you. You know that, right?" His eyebrows raised noticeably.

I took in a deep breath and exhaled. It was obvious what he meant. "Yeah, I totally get that," I said.

"Good. Catch you guys later." Skee walked away and I shut the door.

"Wanna go to your room? Crying out here in the kitchen is kind of a drag," teased Rumble.

"Yeah, come on," I said, and led him into my room.

Rumble jumped onto my bed. "It's weird seeing you and Skee together. I mean, you're both really shy, y'know?"

I nodded. "Was that part of why you were, um, worried?"

Rumble grimaced. "I wouldn't say worried..." he began, then shrugged. "Okay, worried. You're both cool and shy. I don't really 'get' shy, even though you're my closest bud."

"I guess I'm afraid to say things around other ponies because I don't want to say the wrong thing?" I said, trying to explain. "I don't know, really. Getting to know somepony new is hard because you have to say things. And everything could go wrong."

"So how did you two even start talking?"

"Well, it was at the Hayburger," I said, then realized I didn't have a good story. Skeedaddle warned me about this, I thought, and I paused with my mouth open.

I needed to come up with something that would fit anything Skee might say. Maybe something he wouldn't want to reveal. Ugh. I hated lying to my best friend.

Rumble patiently waited, and finally I continued. "Look, don't tell anypony this. Promise?"

He made the motions of a Pinkie Promise. "You got it, dude."

"I did have a hard geld. A really hard geld. Skee had one too," I said. "That's why we have stuff to talk about. He understands what I went through."

Horse apples. I probably went too far with that.

"Oh. Yeah, that totally makes sense," said Rumble. "It's totes okay if you don't wanna talk about it."

"Thanks," I said. "It was just... hard."

"I can't imagine," he said.

No, you cannot. Thank Celestia.

"I'm feeling a lot better now, though. I think I'm over all the emotional crap," I said, which was in all likelihood the biggest lie I'd told so far. "Anyway, it's done with."

"Yeah, exactly. Hay, do you wanna see it? Where's your camera?"

My ears perked up. I was interested in seeing it. I knew it probably wouldn't make me feel any better, but I was curious about how realistic it looked.

I reached into my desk and hoofed Rumble one of my cameras. He jumped down off of my bed, and I turned and lifted tail.

"What do I do, just push the button?"

"There's more to it if you want to get fancy, but it should work with the settings on there now. So, yeah, just push the button," I said.

"I'll get a few shots," said Rumble, and he took three shots at what I assumed were different angles. "And a fourth one super close-up. Oh! And just for fun, let's do another close-up of... no, wait. If I take a close up of your ponut somepony's going to think we're making foalnography."

"Yeah, don't do that," I said, shuddering at the thought of becoming two kinds of sex criminal.

I'd chosen the automatic camera, so the pictures came out quickly. The gauze bandage didn't hide much. It was a little red back there, but very swollen. I didn't know how much was swelling and how much was the pseudo-geld.

"Gosh. What if it never goes down?" I said.

Rumble laughed. "It'll go down, don't worry. It's normal to swell up some."

"Yeah, but it might stay a little like a bulge. What if I don't look like a gelding?"

"Dude, you already look like a gelding, even with the swelling," he said. "Plus you'll have the scar. Don't worry about it. You're an adult now, and it shows."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "I guess so," I said. My gut was starting to hurt again, and I held a hoof on my butt. "Rumble, would you mind if I took a nap? The pain's coming back a little, and I think I need some quiet time."

"Message received. I'll show myself out," said Rumble. "Really glad you're okay. I'll stop by tomorrow, alright?"

"That'd be perfect," I said.

Rumble left and I lay down under the covers for a nap. As I lay there, my mind buzzed in thought. I'd barely had any time to talk to Skeedaddle! I had so many questions to ask him. But one question was more important than all the rest.

How do I get gelded for real?

A Few Answers

I had a short nap. I dreamed about pain in my gut, and I woke to pain in my gut. There were two distinct pains: my hidden stones, and everything else around them. The squeezing of my nuts was the worse of the two.

I had a frightful thought that I might always be in pain inside. I figured it might be tolerable if I could keep taking the narcotics forever, but I was pretty sure Mom wouldn't let that fly. Whatever they had done to hide my testicles, it wasn't natural. Who knows how long the discomfort would last?

Skeedaddle would know. He was coming by this afternoon. Thank Celestia.

I got up and went to the kitchen. Mom was there preparing daisy sandwiches for lunch. "Hello Feather. I'm back from the clinic," she said. I could tell she was stressed out from the tone in her voice. "Are you hungry?"

"Mom, could I have another pill?" I asked, my voice trembling. It sounded like I was in pain because I was in pain. I didn't need to pretend.

"Feather, are you sure..." she replied, then took one look at my face and buckled. Her muzzle twitched in sympathy. "Of course, sweetie. Here, I'm almost done with prepping lunch. I'll give it to you in a moment." I could tell getting her to give me the meds from now on was going to be easy. She probably still felt guilty, and though that was entirely my fault, in a sick way it worked to my advantage.

I gingerly sat down in a chair, leaning back onto my ponut to avoid mashing the region of doom. It's not polite to sit directly on your ponut, of course, but I was clean enough, and these were extenuating circumstances. I'd wipe the seat afterwards just to be sure.

It took a few minutes for Mom to finish, and the moment she gave me the pills I tossed back the narcotic with some spit I'd saved up while waiting. I was that desperate for relief. The antibiotic I took after she served me a glass of water. As we ate, Mom stared longingly at me and reached across the table to pet my mane.

The food was tasty enough to distract me somewhat while I waited for the pill to work its magic. Mom helped distract me too, with conversation.

"I went to the gelding clinic, Feather. Let me tell you, it was a royal fiasco! At first they couldn't find your records. I had to wait nearly an hour before I could even speak to the doctor who performed your gelding!" she said, frowning.

"Oh. Was he an old guy?" I asked. "I, um... barely remember that. But maybe I'm thinking of what Rumble told me, because he had a really old doctor."

"Yes, he was. Doctor Pastures was his name. But here's the bizarre part. When he finally came and greeted me, he welcomed me back to the clinic," she said. "I told him I'd never been here before, and that you were accompanied by some strange mare, but he said he was fairly certain it was me. He even had the nerve to suggest I was suffering from traumatic stress after seeing the difficult gelding you had to endure!" Mom pounded her hoof on the table.

I realized Doctor Pastures had never introduced himself to me, but it was just as well. I had to swallow a big bite of food in one gulp so I could respond. "Oh gosh. I'm so sorry, Mom. Please don't be mad at me..."

"You? Oh, baby. I'm not mad at you! I'm just angry this could have happened to a foal at all," she explained. "I told the doctor I was certain that mare was not me. He said he'd ask around the clinic to try to figure out who it was. There was a nurse with him who said she thought it was me, too. I couldn't believe it."

"Maybe it was somepony who looks like you?" I asked.

Mom's jaw clenched tight. "Feather, I'm worried. I don't know if this is unicorn voodoo or maybe even a changeling, but there's no way somepony confused another mare in Ponyville for your mother. Nopony here looks like I do," she said. "There aren't many pegasi who live here and I'm fairly sure I've met every one in my age bracket."

"Wow. It's a mystery," I said. Almost immediately I grimaced at how stupid that sounded.

"Baby?" said Mom, reaching over to brush my forelock aside. "Are you okay?"

"Sorry. Just the pain," I said. A white lie, which was a refreshing change of pace from all the pitch-black ones.

Then Mom stood up from the table and shook her head. "I need to see Princess Twilight Sparkle about this. It's just too dangerous. I've never spoken directly to her, but everypony says she's very approachable."

"She is. I've talked to her a few times..." I said, then dropped the rest of my sandwich back onto the plate. "Wait, the Princess? Mom, I really don't think you should involve her."

"This is important, Featherweight." Mom's face was a rock.

"I'm fine, Mom. They gelded me, and it went fine."

"The surgeon said there were complications. You needed to be sedated when your cords became tangled," said Mom. "I should have been there for you. I should have been there!" Her eyes were wide, and rimmed with tears.

"Mom! It's okay, really," I said, stepping off the chair and walking to her side. I reached up and held her neck in my forelegs, and she wrapped her wings around me.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know I shouldn't care about this. I'm just sorry I wasn't able to be there for you when you needed me most."

I was starting to feel like I might cry, but that's when the drugs kicked in, thankfully.

"I know, Mom. I know you would have been there," I said. "And I didn't need you most during the gelding. I need you most right now, here with me."

She smiled a sickly-looking smile and wiped a tear from her cheek with a wingtip. "You are the most amazing pony in the world," she said. "Er, Mommy needs to use the restroom." Mom trotted off into the bathroom and shut the door.

I breathed out and returned to my seat, then finished both my sandwich and salad quickly. I put my dishes in the washer, but I let Mom's sit out because she hadn't finished her food yet.

"I'm going to lie down," I called to her.

"Okay, Feather. I love you."

"Love you too, Mom."

I entered my room and shut the door.

I tried to nap again, mainly because the pills made me feel tired, but they also made my mind active so instead I lay under the covers with my brain buzzing about what I'd ask Skeedaddle when he showed up. Despite all that thinking, I didn't get anywhere concrete. My mind kept wandering to an imaginary conversation with him where he would reveal random secrets about the stallions. I imagined him telling me they were all over town, more common than geldings! But then I imagined it was only me, him, and the doctor, plus the nurse in on the secret. I even imagined he managed to convince the doctor to properly geld me as long as I never told anypony—fat chance there, I knew. Many other ideas bounced around in my mind, but I don't remember what they were.

I couldn't wait much longer. Anxiety was gripping me pretty hard. At least the narcotic medication kept the emotion from smashing over me like a tsunami. What if he didn't show up at all? What would I do then?

Skeedaddle finally arrived a couple of hours later. Mom had gone out again, without leaving a note (which wasn't like her). I worried she'd left to talk to Princess Twilight.

I invited Skee in and we went to my room. He shut the door and spoke to me in a quiet voice. "Okay. I bet you have a bunch of questions," he said.

"You have no idea," I replied, speaking in a whisper. "Could you please tell me what the buck is going on?"

He nodded. "Right. Well, it's pretty straightforward. There's an underground herd of stallions here in Ponyville, and elsewhere in Equestria as well. We don't know how many, though, because we're afraid to network too much in case one of the groups gets exposed."

"Underground?" I said. "Like, you're hanging out in caves?"

Skee shook his head. "No, colt. It's just an expression. It means we're hiding from public notice."

"Oh. That makes much more sense," I said. "But before you go further, I have a really important question I need to know the answer to, like, right now."

He nodded. "Shoot."

I swallowed an empty gulp of air. "Can I still become a real gelding?"

Skeedaddle blinked a few times. "What?"

"Listen. I don't want this, Skee. I never wanted to be a stallion. I didn't know what I was getting into!" I said. "I want to be like my friends. I don't want to be a criminal."

He planted a hoof over his face. "Holy Friendship. You're kidding? Please tell me you're kidding."

"No. I want these things out of my body," I said. "I'll cut them out myself if I have to."

"Don't say that!" said Skeedaddle, a little too loud. He lowered his voice. "Look, you can't get them out. You'd probably bleed to death if you tried something crazy like that."

"Then how do I get rid of them?"

Skeedaddle bit at his lip. "Look, even if you don't want to be a stallion, give it a chance, okay? Let me show you the ropes. You're going to be glad you did."

"My mom was raped by a stallion, Skeedaddle. I'm like, a rape baby," I said.

"Oh crap. Yeah, I know, I heard about that. But being a stallion does not mean you're anything like your father," he said. "I'm not a rapist. You're not a rapist."

"What if I become one?"

"You won't. You care about other ponies, Feather. You have friends. We made sure of that before you were selected."

I stared down at my hooves. "I dunno. I'm still scared," I said. "I want to be a gelding like my friends."

"Am I... not your friend?" he asked me. His face looked like he'd eaten something sour.

"Well, sure you are," I said, and frowned hard. "I mean, you're a new friend, but I'm not saying anything bad about you. I want to be like Rumble, that's all. I mean, I want to be legal. Can you imagine what ponies would say if they found out I was secretly a stallion? Can you imagine what they'd say about my mom?"

"They'll never say anything because they'll never know. It's foalproof, Feather."

"I'm still going to rip them out if the doctor won't do it. I swear I will." I was bluffing, but only just barely.

"Give it two weeks," said Skee. "That's all I ask. If you hate it two weeks from now, I'll help you pressure the doctor to finish the geld. Okay?"

It was the best offer I'd had since this mess began. I doubted it was sincere, but beggars can't be choosers, so they say. "Fine," I said, the word low and rumbling in my throat.

Skeedaddle's muzzle relaxed. "Thank you. Now do you have questions, or do you want me to just start talking?"

I paused for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I have a couple of important questions. My balls hurt," I said. "When will that go away?"

"It's a little uncomfortable, yeah," he said. "I'm not gonna lie, it still aches a little for me sometimes. Most of the time it's fine, though. You'll feel better in about a week."

"My pills only last three days," I said. "You're not selling this 'stallion' thing very well."

"It'll be a little rough for you this week, but you'll pull through. I can get some pills for you through the doctor if you're in desperate need but you need to hide them, obviously," he said. "But you should try to endure it. The threat of addiction is not a joke."

"Ugh. I guess I'm more worried about hiding the emissions, though. I can't keep doing the feather trick every night. I'm going to lose my mind," I said.

"What's the feather trick?" Skeedaddle's ears swiveled forward.

"It keeps me from having a wet dream. You don't wanna know how it works."

"Yikes. I feel for you, colt," he said, wisely taking my advice. "Well, the emissions aren't a problem. Just make sure you slap off every night just before bed. It should be even easier for you because you're a pegasus."

"Oh, gross! No way, Skeedaddle. I am not doing that," I said, nearly gagging at the thought.

"You're growing up. It's just part of being an adult. Geldings and mares do it too, just not as frequently," he said. "The first few times it feels pretty repulsive, though. You'll feel guilty and stuff and won't be able to enjoy the pleasure it gives you. But you'll get used to it after a few days. You just have to be strong."

"That's going to be a problem. I'm not strong," I said.

"The doctor told me how hard the pseudo was for you," said Skee, and the sympathy on his face was unmistakable. "You are strong, Featherweight."

I shook my head. "Whatever. I think I'd rather do the trick."

"If you don't slap off you'll start to drop in public," he said. "You gotta do it. I can help you with it, or we can get somepony else, like the nurse."

"Help me with it? Are all stallions perverts?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"A little bit, yeah," said Skee, and he actually smiled from that. "It's a brave new world you're entering. It'll be more fun than you can imagine, and it features new kinds of friendship, too."

"That's ridiculous," I said, but I had to admit, I was intrigued. "I still don't know how I'm going to master, um..."

"Masturbate," he said. "You have a couple days off, though. Not only will your mother not question if you have an emission shortly after the geld, the pills you're on will mute your sex drive quite a bit."

"I want to take these pills forever," I said. "Seriously, is there anything they can't do?"

"Well, not having a sex drive isn't a good thing, honestly. But if you get hooked on those pills you'll get lazy, stop being able to concentrate, fail out of school..."

"Okay, okay! I get the idea," I said. "I don't actually want to take them, I'm just desperate. I wish I didn't have to deal with these horse apples at all."

Skeedaddle reached over and hugged me, which seemed pretty spontaneous to me. His legs were strong and his chest was warm against mine. "I'm sorry Feather, I really am. I'll help you get through this. We all will."

I waited until he stopped the hug to respond. "Who is 'we', anyway?" I asked.

"Not many ponies. First off, Calm Pastures, that's the surgeon, but he's a gelding not a stallion..."

"He's a gelding?" I said. "Why would he do this to ponies?"

Skee shrugged. "It's something he believes in. He's gelded so many poor colts he had to do something."

"I don't understand. I guess if I were him it would get tough, but that's his job. He makes society better."

"Well... maybe, maybe not," he responded. "Anyway, Nurse Serotype is in on it. You've met her too."

"You mean she raped me along with the doctor. Yep." I didn't blink.

Skeedaddle's eyes widened so much I was afraid they'd fall out of his head. "Don't joke about that."

"I guess they didn't tell you just how bad of a 'pseudo' it was. If it wasn't for the drugs I'd probably be in the hospital right now, for one reason or another. I don't even want to think about it," I said. "They strapped me down and forced me to get the operation while I begged for them to stop. I just wanted them to geld me. They even shoved a bit in my mouth to shut me up."

My guest sat down on the floor and stared into space. "I can't believe that. You didn't want the operation? Seriously?" he asked. "I thought you were exaggerating when you said you never wanted to be a stallion..."

I shook my head rapidly. "Look, I don't want to talk about this right now. Or ever again."

"But why did they do it?"

"I don't know, Skee. They just told me it was too late."

Skeedaddle closed his eyes and sighed. "Ah. They didn't want you telling anypony. They were thinking of the herd," he said. "This way you're one of us. It makes sense, but I still can't believe it."

"You guys are criminals. I guess this is what criminals are willing to do to say safe."

"No, it's more than that. They did it for you too," he said. "I know it seems horrible but you will appreciate this, Feather. We saved you."

"Stop saying I'll appreciate being raped! I'm tired of hearing that!" I yelled. "The doctor and nurse both..."

"Feather, are you okay?" said Mom, opening the door. Apparently, she came home and I didn't hear her. "What's going on?"

"It's okay," I said. "Just having a friendly argument, that's all!" Both of us put on fake smiles.

Mom narrowed her eyes at us. "I don't want to hear that kind of shouting in my house, boys. Play nice, alright?"

"Sure thing Mrs. Featherweight's Mom," said Skeedaddle.

"She's got a name. It's—"

"It's fine, dear," said Mom. "But I'm a Miss, not a Misses. Just be friendly. I know Feather's been through a lot lately, but try to keep things calm." She left the room and shut my door.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. But we have to be really careful," he whispered.

I sighed, and kept my voice down. "I know. Just... I'm scared and I don't know what to do."

"That's what I'm here for, friend."

"I appreciate that, but are there more colts than just you and me? Not that I'm mad at you or anything. I know you're not the one who did this to me."

He nodded. "Yeah. Snips, ironically enough. He doesn't do much with the rest of us, though. He's kind of weird about the stallion thing. I think he likes it, but he's frustrated about girls. He's not, like, super attractive or anything. I mean, he talks to them all the time, but he's kind of friend-zoned."

"Oh. Wow. That's... kind of sad," I said. "Wait, what's friend-zoned? Isn't that a good thing?"

"It means when a filly or colt just wants to be friends. They don't want to think about you being, like, a romantic partner or anything," he explained. "Anyway, Snips does keep in touch with the rest of us, he's just not really gung-ho about stuff. The rest includes my mom, Thunderlane, and a few ponies we haven't met yet because Snips and I aren't allowed to go to the meetings. So with you added to the mix, that makes seven of us I know personally."

I wrinkled up my muzzle. "You told your mom? Seriously?"

He shook his head. "She already knew. She's why I was saved, actually. Dad doesn't know, though."

"Oh. Wait a minute, Thunderlane? Rumble said he got caught slapping off and went to get gelded right then!"

"Yeah, that was a trick. The doctor asked to talk to him in private, then told him what he was going to do. Thunderlane agreed. Then the doctor convinced his parents he thought it would be a difficult geld for some medical reason, so they were going to sedate him straight away. After he was sedated the doctor asked his parents to leave the room and then he pseudoed him."

"Why didn't they do that to Rumble, then?"

Skeedaddle grimaced. "We don't have a lot of information to go on, Feather. I try to make observations of other colts, and we only do it when we're certain they'll be okay with it. It isn't easy."

"That's obvious. You definitely miscalculated with me," I said, angrily but quietly.

"Maybe. Anyway, I didn't think Rumble truly wanted to be a stallion. He was a possible, but I told them I didn't think he was safe," he said. "I guess it was my fault. I'm sorry."

"Your fault?" I said, then I actually smiled a little. "It's fine. He's better off without this nightmare. I seriously envy him right now."

"It's not all bad, really. You'll see that soon."

I couldn't wait... but not in the good way.

A Princess Guest

Skeedaddle and I left to go to his house where we'd have more privacy. On the way there, something heavy landed on top of me and slammed me to the ground.

"Oof," I said (or whatever that sounds like).

"How's it going?" said Rumble, laying atop my back.

"Good," I said. Part of me enjoyed having Rumble pinning me to the ground. It was kind of like a hug, maybe? "Still pretty sore, though."

"Oh, crud. Sorry, I totally forgot," said Rumble, flying up off of me and landing on the ground.

I stood up and dusted myself off. "No problem. It's going to hurt back there no matter what I do."

"Yeah, that lasted a couple of days for me. Feels kind of spacious, at least. I mean, once your stones are gone, there's no, um... pressure back there," he said. "I can't really explain it, but now you know what I mean, huh?"

I didn't. If anything, there was more pressure back there now, and Rumble's comment had just made me aware of it again.

"Yeah, he gets it," Skeedaddle interjected, speaking on my behalf. I understood that he was trying to protect me from a slip-up, but it was kind of annoying.

"But you're feeling good enough to be outside, so that's awesome! Do you wanna come over to my place and hang around?" he asked.

Yikes. This was going to be awkward.

"I'd really like that. Could I come by after supper, though? I wanted to talk to Skee about some stuff. About the geld, I mean," I said, then leaned over to whisper to Rumble. "He's really shy about the stuff he went through. It shouldn't take us long to talk about it."

Rumble frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, that's fine. Actually, maybe I can ask Dad to add a place at the table for you? Um, I could try to add you too Skeedaddle, but I have a better shot if it's just plus-one..."

Skee smiled. "Don't worry about it! I know you're best buds, and I want you guys to spend time together. I don't wanna be a third wheel. You can have him when I'm done with him," he said, and winked at Rumble.

Rumble's eyes widened and he blushed. "Um, yeah. Okay, then. I'll see you for supper around five? I'll need to go ask, but I assume it'll work. If not, I'll come by Skee's place and let you know. Wait, where do you live?" he asked Skeedaddle.

"I could give you the address, but I won't keep him that long. He can come get you around four and you guys can figure it out then. Does that work?"

"Sounds good to me," I said. "Hay, Rumble, could you tell my mom if you end up getting permission?"

"I'll tell her right away. If not, maybe I can eat with you instead? Or maybe we can do a sleepover. Looking forward to it, bro!" Rumble smiled brightly and we hoofbumped, then he ran off toward home.

Skeedaddle chuckled. "You two sure have something special. That's awesome."

"Heh, thanks. I guess we do," I said. "I wish we had gelding in common, though."

"Sssh, not so loud," said Skee. "But that shouldn't matter to your friendship, Feather. There's nothing wrong with being a gelding, and there's nothing wrong with being a stallion. Let's talk more when we get home."

We walked in silence the rest of the way there. When we arrived, an earth pony I assumed was Skeedaddle's dad answered the door. He was a thin gelding with a brown coat and blue mane, sporting a thin blue mustache.

"Hello there," he said. "You're one of Skee's friends, hm?"

"Hay. I'm Featherweight," I said.

I saw a glimmer of recognition in his eye. Everypony knew who I was, one way or the other. Before this mess began, it never used to bother me...

"Well, don't just stand there boys, come on in!" called a mare from inside.

We went inside and were greeted by a pleasant earth mare. She had a yellow coat, a golden mane, and glasses.

"You must be Featherweight," said the mare. "Skeedaddle told me all about you."

"He did, huh?" said Skee's dad.

"Featherweight had a difficult geld yesterday," said Skee's mom.

"Very difficult," said Skeedaddle.

"You have no idea," I mumbled under my breath.

His dad snorted. "Gelding is gelding, just part of growing up. You'll get over it, trust me. My geld was difficult too, but I hardly remember it now."

Skee's mom flashed a dirty look her husband's way. "Featherweight, he's just trying to make you feel better. In his own primitive way."

The older gelding rolled his eyes. "Fine, suffer away. Just don't coddle the boy."

Skeedaddle motioned toward the hallway. "Hay, Mom, could you come with?" he asked.

"The casserole is in the oven on slow cook, and I have nothing to do at the moment," she said. "Let me show you around."

We walked into what was obviously a colt's room and shut the door.

"Show me around?" I said. "I guess this is Skeedaddle's room."

"I just needed cover," said his mom. "Skee, you've told him?"

He nodded. "Yeah, he knows you know. But he wasn't kidding, he didn't want the pseudo. He fought them and begged them to stop. They even gagged him."

His mom's face paled. "That's... that should never happen," she said. "Ever. Please tell me you're joking."

I suddenly felt sick inside, and my eyes began to water. "I don't want to talk about it," I whispered.

"Oh you poor thing," the mare whispered back, and she hugged me tight without asking. "I don't understand this. What in Tartarus was Doctor Pastures thinking?!"

"He was thinking about saving his hide," I mumbled. "And now that they mutilated me, I'll never be a proper gelding."

"Featherweight, listen to me," said the mare, pulling my head up so she could look me eye to eye. "There is nothing wrong with being a stallion. You will be a happy, healthy stallion. It's something to celebrate, not be ashamed of."

"I'm a criminal."

"It's not like that," said Skee. "This is a secret you have to keep, yeah. But you have friends who will look out for you. Like I said, give this time. This all just happened to you yesterday, and it was a nightmare, but it's going to get better. I promise."

"The nurse said the same thing," I pointed out. "She helped him violate me. But I'm not kidding, I really don't want to talk about this now." My lower lip began to quiver.

"As you wish," said his mom. "But my son is right. You're in a good place now. You're safe and every bit as healthy as your other friends."

I looked back down at the floor for a moment, thinking of what to ask. "Why did you do this to him?" I asked, pointing to Skeedaddle. "Why would you want your son to be a criminal? Help me understand."

"Do you really think the world is better off with every colt forced to suffer the loss of his testicles, Featherweight?" she asked.

"I... I don't know. Statistics say yes. That's why most ponies support the Edict."

"The ends do not justify the means, dear," she said. "What's being done to colts simply isn't right."

"Nothing about gelding is 'simple'," I countered. "This is all just endless argument, anyway. You have a valid concern on your side, while the Diarchy has centuries of evidence supporting the other side. Yeah, in a perfect world we wouldn't have gelding. I get that. But at some point you have to weigh the benefits to society."

"It shouldn't be a crime to avoid gelding," said Skeedaddle. "Most stallions are good ponies."

"I don't know what to say. I used to feel that way until I actually grew up," I said. "What they did to me yesterday is horrible. It was basically rape."

"So is gelding!" said Skee. His voice had energy, but he kept it low. "Forcing a colt to have his nuts removed is just as bad! So they did something horrible to you. That doesn't mean gelding isn't every bit as much 'rape' to a colt who doesn't want it done to him. And gelding isn't reversible!"

I sighed. "I... I don't know anything," I said, and I sat down on the floor and shut my eyes. "I wish I'd never learned about this. I wish I'd been gelded like Rumble."

"Featherweight. Could you try to give stallionhood a chance?" the mare asked me. "Maybe just for a little while? You haven't experienced it yet."

"I told Feather I'd try to convince the doctor to geld him for real if he still feels this way after two weeks," said Skee. "I... I don't know if I'll be able to, but if he really wants to be a gelding, I don't think it's right to keep him like this."

"What a terrible mess. I suppose we should wait a while, and cross that bridge when we trot to it." She reached over and pet my mane gently. "The most important thing is that you're comfortable and happy, Featherweight. We'll do everything in our power to ensure that comes to pass, regardless as to what you decide."

I took in a deep breath, and nodded. "Okay. I... I appreciate what you're saying. You two weren't the ones who did this to me, anyway. I don't have a problem with you, besides the fact that making your son a criminal is a bad idea."

"Mom, I'll have him talk to Thunderlane and Snips soon," said Skee. "Snips knows Feather was cut, but not that he's one of us. Feather might see Thunder later today if he goes over to Rumble's place."

"How many others are there?" I asked. "I mean here in Ponyville."

Skee's mom pursed her lips tightly together. "Well... I'm not at liberty to say. The reason we haven't had you colts to the meetings is that... there's a, um, social problem we need to deal with. A very big one. It's safer for you two and Snips to stay in the dark for the time being."

"I'm afraid of what's coming," I said. "I don't want to... to do stuff. The stuff that stallions do."

"We can both help you with the difficult parts," she offered.

"No, I mean the sort of stuff you can't help me with," I said. "You know. The gross stuff."

Skeedaddle smiled. "Like slapping off? We can totally help you with that. Like, we can teach you, and even help you do it."

Judging by the awkward looks on their muzzles, my face was probably showing a mix of disgust and horror. "You... ohmygosh that's so gross. Why?"

"Because you need help," said Skee. "We're in this together. I'm like a brother to you now, Feather."

"But you're a colt! And she's like, your mom! Are you some sort of ped—" I stopped short when she planted a hoof firmly over my mouth.

"Too loud," she whispered. "No, it isn't like that. Not exactly. I love my husband very much, but that doesn't mean I can't help a young colt with... his needs. Even my son. Stallions need to be satisfied, and I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

"Yeah. And I'm glad to help, too. I mean, to be completely honest I do like both colts and fillies, but even if I didn't, I'd do what I could," said Skeedaddle.

"This feels really icky," I said. "I don't like this."

His mom held her hoof over her face. "This is the hardest part, I know, but you need to learn quickly. If you're caught dropping or having an emission in bed, you run the risk of being discovered," she explained. "If that does happen, make sure your mother takes you to see Doctor Pastures. He can come up with some kind of excuse for it. But the sooner you learn to manage your libido, the better off you'll be."

"Great. So... when do I have to do the gross thing?" I asked, wincing at the mere thought of slapping off.

"You should probably do it every night, starting with the first day you stop taking the pills," said Skee.

"I want to take those pills forever. I really do," I said.

"No can do, sweetie. Those pills are very bad for you." Skee's mom cupped my chin with her soft frog. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah. I just... I want to get past all this junk. I don't want to have to do something disgusting every night for the rest of my life."

"It's fine, Feather. I'll help you through this. You'll get used to it in no time at all," said Skeedaddle. "Once you've been trained, it won't be disgusting. It'll be beautiful."

I was less enthusiastic. "Eww."

(I also didn't like the idea of being "trained", but thought better than to ask.)

Skeedaddle and I eventually decided to just play together and not talk about all the awfulness, so we did that for an hour or two before I headed out to find Rumble.

I stopped by his house early and knocked on the door. Thunderlane answered.

"Hey, little guy. Rumble's waiting for you inside. You wanna come in?" he asked.

"Sure," I said, and walked inside.

Thunderlane leaned over and whispered in my ear. "Congrats on the pseudo. I heard it was a rough one."

I looked around the house and didn't see anypony else. "I can't even talk about it," I said, looking away from him. "I wish I'd just been gelded."

"You have a gift," said Thunderlane, keeping his voice down. "I only wish my brother had the same opportunity. You're fortunate. Don't waste it."

I didn't know what to say, but Rumble came racing down the hallway.

"Hay bud! You can totally eat here tonight. I forgot our folks were leaving on a trip tonight, so Thunderlane came over to cook and foalsit," he said, wings spread wide. "Your mom says I can stay the night at your place afterwards. She wants you to be home tonight because of your geld, to be safe or something."

"Awesome." I smiled a genuine, broad smile. It felt novel.

"Oh, but you gotta go home first, your mom wanted to talk to you," said Rumble. "We can play when you get back." He slugged me in the shoulder. I could tell he pulled the punch a lot but it still hurt. I'm pretty much a runt, I know.

I arrived at home and opened the door to find Mom and Princess Twilight Sparkle sitting at the kitchen table.

"Oh, hello Featherweight! We were just talking about you," said Twilight. (Twilight may be a genius, but I've noticed that she isn't always the smartest pony when it comes to social skills.)

"Right," I said, and shuffled into the room. "If this is about the geld, it's fine. I don't care about the lady that 'helped' me."

Twilight frowned. "Well, this is about more than just you. If this pony was a rogue changeling, we need to find them as soon as possible. I'm not planning on punishment, but whoever did this needs to at the very least own up to it and explain why."

"I'm still upset over it," said Mom. "At least Featherweight made the right choice."

Ow. That one stung.

"Made the right choice?" asked Twilight.

Mom's eyes widened. "I mean, um... Feather wanted to get gelded, is all."

"Did you let your son decide when to be gelded?" asked Twilight, swiveling her ears forward. She didn't look upset.

Mom stood up from the table and raised her head up tall. "Yes. I did," she said. "And to be honest? I wish he didn't have to get gelded at all."

"Mom, no!" I said, stunned.

"It's okay, Featherweight," said Twilight, standing up herself. "I can only imagine how difficult it must be. I'd be reluctant to geld my child, if I had one."

"It's not fair, you know." Mom kept her eyes level with the princess, though I could see a bead of sweat on her brow.

"I do know. It was a nightmare for me when I saw my brother gelded," said Twilight. "He was depressed for a week. They don't tell you about that happening in sex education."

"Don't you support the Gelding Edict?" I asked Twilight.

She sighed. "Well... I can't argue with the statistics. Gelding saves dozens, if not hundreds of pony lives every year. It's ethically questionable, yes, but what would you say to somepony who lost a son or daughter to violence? How would you comfort them if there were a way to prevent that from happening?"

"Couldn't there be other ways to manage violence?" asked Mom.

"Chemical castration, but stallions would cheat. Celestia originally tried that, but you probably know." Twilight paused for a second. "I don't mean this in a negative way, but I'm surprised you would question the benefits of gelding."

Mom's face hardened. "Yes, I know. The rape."

Twilight blushed and nodded. "I'm... very sorry."

"It's okay. It was a long time ago, as you can see," she said, pointing at me. "It really makes no difference. I would endure a hundred rapes to prevent the mutilation of one colt."

Mutilation? Is that what she thinks of me?

"That's not logical," said Twilight.

"You're not a mother of a colt," countered Mom.

Bringing a hoof to her face, Twilight nodded. "You're right. I know gelding asks a lot. I really don't like it, but there isn't a better option. You know..." she said, and looked behind her. "Neither of you may tell anypony this. Do you promise?"

I walked up closer to the table, and nodded along with Mom.

"Princess Luna abhors the Gelding Edict," said Twilight, in a low voice. "She went ballistic the moment she learned of it, after coming back from the Moon. Fortunately she didn't have her mantle for several months, so her anger wasn't backed by strong alicorn magic."

"That makes sense," I said. "The Edict was passed when she was still on the Moon."

"Exactly," said Twilight. "Not counting her sister, she's the only pony in Equestria who didn't grow up learning that gelding is normal. This is something society accepts now, but she refuses to admit it's a good thing."

"Does she have children?" asked Mom.

"To be completely honest, I don't know. There's a taboo against asking royalty about their family trees. I don't even know if Princess Celestia ever had foals," said Twilight. "If she did, she kept it out of the history books. But Luna does have her own Royal Guard, and she was very unhappy to see they had been 'maimed', as she put it."

I thought for a moment about a response, but decided against butting into the conversation. This was dangerous territory, given my secret, and Mom had already given away too much.

"Anyway, Featherweight," said Twilight, turning to me. "I was hoping I could do a quick scan of your mind. I might be able to recover information about who the mare was if you let me see your memories."

My eyes widened and my pulse quickened. I leaned backwards so far I almost lost my balance. "N-no, please," I whispered.

"Are you sure, Feather? She won't hurt you," said Mom.

"No, I'm not going to do it if he doesn't want me to," said Twilight. "Seeing into a pony's mind without their consent is wrong, even if it might help catch a dangerous criminal."

But cutting off their nuts for the same reason is okay?

"Thank you, Twilight," said Mom. "I'll let you know if he should change his mind."

The princess smiled and reached forward to pat me on the head. "I hope you recover quickly, Featherweight. Congratulations on the geld, even if it was a difficult one. You have a long and virtuous life ahead of you, I'm sure," she said. "The foals I talk to have only good things to say about you, by the way."

I blushed, despite myself.

"I'll keep in touch with you should I learn anything new," said Mom. "I mean, if that's okay, Princess?"

"I'm just a pony! As I said before, just call me Twilight," she insisted. "And I appreciate you coming to me. Feel free to come see me if you have anything you want to talk about, even if it isn't something dangerous. I could use a little mundanity in my daily life."

The two mares laughed, and Twilight waved as she exited our home.

"Well. She is remarkably nice," said Mom, with a soft smile.

"I suppose you don't get to be the Princess of Friendship if you're nasty," I said. "You shouldn't have told her you let me decide when to be gelded, Mom. I don't want you getting in trouble!"

"It's fine, Feather. I'm proud of letting you decide. I only wish you didn't need to... but, it's all over now." She hugged me tightly. "I didn't plan on you meeting her. I just wanted you to come home so I could confirm your plans for the evening."

For some reason I cried a little, but I managed to gather myself together in time to head back to Rumble's place.

The Sleepover

I arrived back at Rumble's place and met him there. We played outside in the yard while we waited for his brother to finish making dinner. Rumble encouraged me to fly a little bit, which I did, but I kept it close to the ground. I couldn't escape horrid visions of the seam bursting open and my naked testicles falling out and swinging around on long, twisted cords as I flew screaming through the air.

"Supper's on!" called Thunderlane, holding open the front door. He was wearing an apron and a ridiculous-looking chef's hat. Leaning out the front door actually knocked it off of his head, the thing was so tall.

"Race you!" said Rumble, who zoomed in through the front door.

Thunderlane picked up his hat and turned back. "Hay, not in the house! And wipe your hooves off!"

I trotted in after him, not in the mood for racing. "He's a hoofful, huh?" I joked with Thunderlane.

"Yeah, but I love my bro something fierce," he said, ushering me inside.

We sat down to eat and I felt a pang between my legs. It wasn't from how I sat down, though. I was just feeling the pain again—it had been a while since my last pill.

"Darn. I might need to head back home and get a pill," I said. "This is starting to ache bad."

"Can't you eat first? Your soup will get cold!" said Rumble.

"I've got something that might help," said Thunderlane.

"I dunno. It's pretty bad," I said. I was starting to sweat a little.

"Hold on." Thunderlane cantered off into the hallway, then came back with a small white pill. "Here, take this."

I picked up the pill in my hoof. "This looks a lot like the pain stuff I'm taking."

"Well, that's because it is," said Thunderlane.

I blinked a few times. "What?"

"Uh, I'm a Bolt. I get injured sometimes. This is easier than you going home to get a pill. But you can't tell anypony I did this," he explained, then turned to Rumble. "You too, short stuff. Okay?"

"Tell anypony what? I don't know what you're talking about," said Rumble, then he winked at me and mimed zipping his lips shut.

I felt a little guilty. This wasn't legal, taking narcotics from somepony else's prescription, even if it was the same stuff. But it made sense, and I was in a lot of pain.

Besides, it's not like I wasn't a criminal already, right?

I took the pill and chased it with a swig of water. "Okay. Thank you. I don't like the idea of doing it, though. I don't want you to get in trouble." That was the truth. I doubted I'd get in any trouble for it. I was just a foal in pain.

"I'm doing it for a good reason, and you're not being hurt by it. As long as you don't tell anypony, nopony gets in trouble. So there's no problem, see?" He smiled at me weirdly, and after a moment of confusion, the message hit me. I'm sure he saw the light come on in my eyes.

"Yeah, I guess," I said. My face must have looked glum.

"Cheer up, sourpuss," said Rumble, tapping me in my ribs with an outstretched hoof. "My bro and I keep secrets all the time. You can trust both of us."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Thunderlane's smile disappear in a flash.

After dinner, Rumble and I played some games together while his brother went out of the house on an errand. At some point he returned and knocked on the bedroom door.

Rumble opened it up, and Thunderlane was standing there with a saddle pack.

"Hay, guys. Feather, I talked your mom into letting you stay the night over here instead of at your place. I brought your toothbrush and pillow and stuff," he said. "Also, I told her about the pill and she was cool with it. I've got the rest of your pills with me in case you need them."

"Oh, thanks," I said. It wasn't clear to me why this was a better plan than Rumble spending the night at my place, but sleeping at Rumble's would be just as much fun. Even more fun, since Thunderlane was here now.

"Awesome," said Rumble, grinning. "I'm surprised it still hurts you. It stopped hurting for me the second day. I guess you had a difficult geld, though."

"Yeah, it's still... sore," I said. "Really sore."

"I told your mom about it and suggested she take you to see Doctor Pastures tomorrow, Feather. You might need to take pain medication a little longer than colts usually have to," he said.

I felt a huge wave of relief pass over me. I hadn't realized how much anxiety the looming specter of inescapable pain was causing me. At least, that's what I thought it was, but in the back of my mind, I wondered...

Is it really the pain I'm afraid of?

I felt a tiny twinge of pain back there, as though the very act of thinking about pain somehow managed to summon it. It wasn't much, but my immediate reaction was to imagine taking a pill. "I might need another one soon," I said.

"Let's wait just a little, okay? If you can't get to sleep, then you can have one."

I looked over at the clock. "Oh geez. It's that late already?" I said.

"Time flies when you're having fun, right dude?" said Rumble. "Um, where should you sleep, though? I'd put a sleeping bag in here, but my room's kind of a mess. I mean a bag for me, of course. You're my guest, so you should get my bed."

"Actually, I was thinking he could take my bed," said Thunderlane. "It's big enough for two."

Rumble pretended to gasp. "What, you want to sleep with some strange colt instead of your bro? Fine, I see how it is."

Thunderlane laughed. "You can sleep with me anytime I'm home, little dude. I'll leave it up to Featherweight, though. How do you want stuff set up? You two want to sleep in my bed, and I'll take the couch? I can't fit in Rumble's bed."

"Eh, I kick in my sleep sometimes," said Rumble. "You should go with Thunder."

I shrugged. "Whatever works," I said. "Are we going to bed now?"

"I hope not! I wanted to stay up longer!" Rumble's eyes were bright. He never seemed to run out of energy.

"Why don't the three of us play a game of Dragon Pit, then we can hit the hay?" said Thunderlane. "I'll go get it."

Rumble bounced in place. "Hah! I always win this game," he bragged.

He didn't win this time. I beat them both soundly. It was so much fun, I actually forgot about my predicament for a while. I hadn't been that happy in weeks. Even though Rumble hates losing, he looked pleased that I was so happy. It was great to have such a positive experience after all the horrible crap I'd been through.

After the game, Rumble brushed his teeth, hopped in his bed, and immediately conked out. Apparently even his hyperactive butt had its limits.

I brushed my teeth as well and went into Thunderlane's room. It had a bunch of boxes in it, so I guessed his parents use it for storage when he's away. There was an uncluttered desk with some awards on it, and a queen-size bed.

I wonder if he's ever had sex in that bed, I thought. The idea gave me the willies.

"You okay with us sleeping together?" he asked me.

"Huh? Oh, um, yeah. I've done this before, like, uh, at camp," I lied. I could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't buying it. "Okay, maybe not at camp. Look, I've... slept with my mom before."

"Well, sure. We all have, right?" he said, then went over and shut the door to his bedroom. His voice dropped in volume. "Feather, I'm sorry about the geld. Skee told me they did it even though you begged them to stop. I can't imagine that."

I didn't look him in the eye, but I nodded my head. "Good."

"I... good?"

"It's good that you can't imagine it," I said, shrugging. I still avoided eye contact. "You don't want to. And I don't want to think about it, so let's just go to bed."

The next thing I knew, Thunderlane was hugging me tight. "It wasn't right. We never should have got you mixed up in this," he said.

I pulled away and wiped some tears from my cheeks, though I hadn't noticed when I shed them. "I know," I said. "I don't blame you. It's mostly my fault, but that doctor..."

"He's one of the kindest stall... I mean, geldings I know. I can't believe he did this. It must have been a mistake."

I crouched down and placed my hooves over my ears.

"I'm sorry," said Thunderlane, pulling my hooves away. "We won't talk about it, okay?"

I sighed. "You can't geld me, can you?" I asked him, wiping my eyes again. I finally looked up into his face, and saw compassion and concern looking back at me.

"If that's truly what you want, and I had the ability, I would. I'll fight for the doctor to do it to you, should it come to that. But you've only been a ridgling for what, a single day, now?"

My ears perked up. "Did you say 'ridgling'?"

"Oh, right. That's what you call a stallion who looks like a gelding. It's a word from the old days," he explained. "They used to do the castration a bit more barbarically, and sometimes they'd mess up and miss a testicle or even both of them. So they called the failed geldings ridglings instead. It became a slur, but that was centuries ago."

I shuddered. "It's all just so horrid. I want these poisonous... things out of me, but I wish they didn't have to geld us. I wish we could just be the way we are, and not be monsters."

"I couldn't agree more," said Thunderlane, sitting down on the floor. "Someday gelding will be a thing of the past, Featherweight."

"I dunno. I doubt it will ever change, and I don't even know if it should. It's true, right? About the murder, and the rape, and stuff?"

Thunderlane sighed and nodded. "Yeah. I think the stats may be a little exaggerated, but it's true. I'm not a monster, though," he said, then paused. "Do you think I'm a bad pony?"

I frowned. "You've had them in you for a long time, right? It's gotta be permanent by now. The mental changes, I mean," I said.

"Mental changes?" said Thunderlane, and his voice went even quieter. "Sex, you mean? I guess it's changed me, yeah. I'd still enjoy sex even if I never got horny again. I like the idea of doing weird things to mares whether or not I'm aroused. If I were a gelding, I might feel that way too, but probably not as much."

I closed my eyes and waited a few seconds in silence. "Do you... ever want to rape?"

Opening my eyes, I saw Thunderlane's face. He looked horrified. "What? No! Never. I mean, I get horny, sure! But hurting somepony doesn't make me feel good. Guy, most stallions aren't monsters. Very few of us are."

It struck me as odd when he said "are" instead of "were", but I brushed it aside.

"Those few do a lot of damage," I pointed out.

"Yes. But forced castration isn't much better. You're basically raping and mutilating half the population," he said.

I shook my head, not out of disagreement but out of tiredness (even though I did disagree). "I think I'm too tired to talk about this. It's too soon, and it's late... Can we hit the hay now?"

Thunderlane smiled. "Sure, but... um, I was wondering, would you like to see?"

"See what?"

He blushed. I knew what he meant, but I didn't want to believe it, so I said nothing.

"What a stallion looks like. You know," he said.

"Oh. Um, I..." I said, but the words stopped coming. So he turned to the side, and he dropped.

It wasn't huge or anything, but at the time it seemed enormous. I'd never seen a full drop so quickly, and then it firmed up and lifted into the air.

"Holy horsefeathers," I whispered. "That was fast."

"Yeah," he said, still blushing. It reached full mast, and just hovered there in the air, almost like a pegasus beating his wings extra fast and tight to keep himself from dipping up and down in place. There was a big vein on the side that passed over the medial ring, and it looked smooth and pleathery and...

"It's beautiful," I said. "Oh, ew. I'm sorry, I didn't mean, um..."

"Nah, you're right. It's not just attractive because I'm a stallion, though. Hard penises are beautiful even when it happens to a gelding, which does happen every now and then," he said. "But it gets large and hard really quick, and it's a little bigger than if I were a gelding."

I felt a pulse of pleasure at the base of my sheath, followed by a swift pang of shame. Nothing dropped, fortunately. I assumed I was safe due to the pain medicine, but the pain was creeping back so I could tell it was wearing off. I wanted a pill really badly. More to prevent any sexual pleasure than to stop the pain... and beyond that, I wanted to numb my emotional state and feel that sweet, warm, hug-like euphoria. I was starting to realize just how addictive this drug was, but I didn't care. I needed it.

At the moment, however, I was pretty distracted.

"Do you want to... touch it?" asked Thunderlane, motioning toward himself with a hoof. His wings extended halfway up.

I looked up at his face, then down at his penis. My mouth must have been hanging open, just gawking at him as I tried to process what he was doing.

It took me a moment. "I'm twelve," I said.

He looked mortified. "Oh! I, um, I didn't mean... I just meant to see what it feels like," he said, and stroked it with a hoof. "When it happens to you, you'll love it. You really will."

"I don't want to love it," I said.

Thunderlane bit at his lip. "I wish I could share this with Rumble, but he'll never know what it's like," he said. "It isn't fair... But, you're his best friend, and you get to experience the gift. Please don't be so eager to throw it away."

I felt a sourness in my throat and belly. Was he right? Was I throwing away something that might be wonderful? Or was he just diseased, his mind poisoned into doing weird stuff because he let his nuts warp his brain until this happened to him? I was all but certain it was the latter, but... could I throw away what Rumble would never have a chance at?

Would Rumble want me to throw this away?

"I'm sorry. I'd trade places with Rumble in a heartbeat, but I can't," I said, for a moment feeling more sorry for Thunderlane than for myself. I climbed into the bed. "I really need a pill if you can, it's starting to ache bad."

Thunderlane sighed and nodded his head. "Sure thing." He pulled out the pack and tossed my pillow on the bed (not sure why he brought that, it's not like I need my own pillow, but I guess some colts might be picky or something), then fetched a pill from the bottle and hoofed it to me. I swallowed it without water. From experience I knew it would start to hit me in about twelve minutes or so.

Thunderlane turned off the light on the nightstand and climbed into bed with me.

"Do you like to, um... be close when you're sleeping?"

"Cuddle?" I asked. "Y-yeah, kinda. I guess that's okay. When the pill kicks in..."

"Yeah, that stuff makes you awfully cuddly. I don't take it unless I absolutely need it because it kills your sex drive," he said.

Kills your sex drive. I started hoping I'd get some kind of a chronic pain condition. Maybe my subconscious would invent one just to get me the pills.

Thunderlane cuddled up to me, and I felt it against my flank. Before I could react, he whispered to me.

"Yikes, sorry. This was a bad idea," he said, then turned over onto his back. "I'll, um, wait until it goes down first."

"Are you going to, like..." I didn't want to say the word.

"Ejaculate? No, not with you here. I don't want to mess with your head after what you've been through," he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I rested on my side, turned away from him. Closing my eyes, I waited for the pain to stop. It wouldn't be long now.

Then I felt something bump the small of my back. I could tell it was a hoof, and it rubbed against me just a tiny bit. Was it an accident? I felt an odd thrill in my belly. At the time, I didn't understand. I was afraid to move, because it would tell him that I knew what was happening.

His hoof rubbed me again, a little more. I had no choice at this point, so I wiggled my back and grunted, and the hoof moved away.

Another minute passed. I was still in pain, but starting to zone out a little.

The hoof touched me again, in the same place, and it started to rub. It was just barely enough movement that it couldn't have been by accident.

This time, I waited longer. It felt good and I didn't understand why. It was sending little shivers down between my legs. I wasn't gay... was I gay? Was Thunderlane gay?

Oh no.... Was he molesting me?

I mean, he wasn't doing anything bad to me. It was just a light touch to my back. The only thing that made it perverted was the fact he was obviously pretending it was an accident, but I knew it wasn't... he must have known that I knew, too, and maybe... maybe that was the whole reason he was doing it...

He kept rubbing, and I didn't move away this time. I felt my penis come out of its sheath. I was aroused, just from having my back rubbed a little. I didn't understand why. I had never been consciously aroused before, and it was overwhelming. My heart was pounding like crazy.

"No," I finally said. It was a soft sound. My voice caught in my throat as I said it.

"I... w-what?" he whispered.

"Thunder..."

He coughed. "Oh. Oh gosh, Feather... I'm, I'm so sorry, it's just... you're just..."

I pulled my body up tightly against the very edge of the bed, to the point where if I went any further I'd fall off. I didn't want to fall off, though. I lacked the will to fight this. If he'd persisted, I would have let him do whatever he wanted to me. I don't know if I would have liked it, or hated it, or ended up going insane... but, he immediately stopped.

"I shouldn't be here," he said, then got out of bed. "I'm sorry. I'll sleep on the couch."

"Wait, it's okay," I said, stunned as the words came out of my mouth. "Just... you can sleep by me, just don't hurt me. I think, I need somepony to be here." It wasn't the sex I wanted, or even the pony contact. I felt alone and afraid. He was the only stallion I knew who understood what I was going through. I wanted him to hold me in his legs and tell me everything would be alright. Even if that meant me touching him there, or him touching me. It was worth the price. I wanted to pay that price, both for reasons I did and did not understand.

"You'll be okay. I'll see you in the morning," he said in a shaky voice, and then he walked out of his room and shut the door.

I cursed myself and flipped onto my back. Why did I have to push him away, I wondered? He wasn't hurting me! He...

He wanted to be with me. That was it. That's why it felt so good inside when he touched my back. Sex had something to do with being wanted. Nopony had ever wanted to be that close to me. In twelve years, this was the first time somepony wanted to share love, to give me love, and I went and pushed him away.

I didn't think I was gay. Maybe it wasn't a gay thing? Maybe it was something else. I closed my eyes and imagined him holding me in his legs, except he wasn't a guy anymore. He had the parts of a mare, even though he still looked a lot like Thunderlane, and he touched me, and I let him do it because I wanted to show him I loved him too...

I was rigid and tenting the covers. My wings spread against the bed. I whined and pressed my hoof against my considerably smaller penis, and suddenly I was free-falling through a hole in the middle of a cumulonimbus cloud, wind rushing past me; another touch, and shivers and pulses slid across my flesh and under my pelt and then everything in the world was a pink lightning bolt made of hot, electric sugar exploding between my legs and through my chest and into my muzzle. I cried out loudly and bucked against the covers and shuddered and I swear my brain just stopped for about five or six seconds.

After falling all the way through that imaginary cloud, the real world returned to sharp focus. That's when I hit the ground at terminal velocity.

Guilt slammed into me and knocked the wind out of me. It was like my wings had been cut off and nopony was there to catch me when I hit. I gasped from the emotional pain. This was much worse than the physical pain had ever been. It wasn't as bad as the rape, but it was different. I still had emotions inside me this time, and they were tormenting me.

The timing was perfect. I had orgasmed shortly before the pill could stop it, and it was mercifully beginning to kick in right as the maelstrom swallowed me. I don't remember feeling any pain in my gonads after I came—the distress in my heart was the only thing in my awareness.

I cried softly. I wiped myself with the covers which were already wet with my evil retort, and I slid over to the other side of the bed where it was clean.

I could never let this happen again, I thought. I couldn't be this weak. This wasn't who I was! It couldn't be, it just couldn't be. I didn't know why the pleasure was so awful, but it was the second-worst experience of my life. It felt like an adrenaline rush from stealing bits out of my mother's purse (which I've never done, just for the record). I didn't deserve the goodness because it came from such badness.

After a minute I stopped crying, and I huddled in a fetal position under the covers. The pain was going away. Two euphorias were spreading: one I was willing to accept (the pill) and one I was not (the afterglow).

The worst part of all of it? I wished with all my heart that Thunderlane would be there to hold me. It wasn't about the sex, I just wanted somepony to love me. I needed a hug. I needed somepony to care about the acid I felt in my eyes. I thought about going to Thunderlane, or even to Rumble, but I couldn't leave the bed. I couldn't move.

At some point, the cacophonous mixture of sensations led to slumber. I don't know how I was able to sleep, but it took at least an hour before I could finally rest.

It was a very deep sleep.

The Morning After

I was standing in the middle of class, surrounded by all my classmates. I couldn't remember how I got here, but I was distracted by something. Everypony was pointing at me and gasping.

Peppermint Twist spoke first. "Mith Cheerilee, look at Featherweight! He'dth thtill got hidth balldth!" Looking down, I saw she was right: it didn't look like I'd been gelded at all! Had my sac magically grown back?

I was afraid of the giggles I assumed would follow, but the gasps and murmurs that came instead were far worse. They weren't laughing at me. They were appalled.

And why shouldn't they be, I thought?

"Featherweight! I am very disappointed in you," said Cheerilee. She wore a disturbing expression on her face. I'd never seen an adult look at me like that before. It wasn't anger. I didn't know what it was, but it was awful. In retrospect, it must have been contempt.

"You don't understand!" I said, my voice thick with desperation. "I, I didn't have anything to do with this..."

"Liar!" shouted Scootaloo, pointing at me accusingly. Cheerilee might not have been angry, but Scootaloo definitely was. So were the rest of the students.

"I'm sorry!" I said, and I began to sob openly.

The word 'liar' kept being repeated around me. I cradled my balls in shame, and just when I was about to snap—

"ENOUGH!" resounded a voice so loud it made me wince. Everyone froze, and then their bodies melted before me.

I was too confused to be scared, and then I realized the obvious. "I'm dreaming," I said aloud.

The classroom disappeared. Now I was sitting in a moonlit glade, and Princess Luna sat beside me. Naturally, I continued to hide my balls from view.

"It is okay now, child. The nightmare has passed," she said, soothingly. It's funny how she can be so scary yet so kind, almost at the same time.

"I... no, it's not okay," I whimpered, rubbing my wet eyes with one fetlock as my other forehoof hid my terrible shame.

Luna sighed with what sounded like frustration. "I take it you are of a recent geld," she said. "This dream is a common pathological response."

"No, I'm guilty. You don't understand. I'm guilty," I whispered, horrified as the words fell out of my muzzle. I couldn't stop them from spilling forth. I needed to be clean, and this was the only way.

"You are not at fault," said Luna, pulling up my chin to look into her soft eyes. The pain behind them was laid bare. "You are a victim of gelding, Featherweight. Such a thing is never your fault, regardless as to your actions."

"Miss, Princess Luna... I'm not a gelding," I said. Oh, it felt good. I was pretty sure I was damning myself, but at the time that's exactly what I wanted.

"Ah. Well then, the stress you experience is still the result of knowing you will soon be gelded. Your trouble is the fault of a society that..." Luna paused and momentarily clenched her jaw before finishing, "does this to its males."

I sniffled. "Will you tell my secret?" I asked her, holding back another wave of tears.

"Never, my little pony. I do not share details of other ponies' dreams. A dream is a deeply personal thing, and it is the vow of a dreamwalker to protect your privacy," she said, holding a shining shoe to her chest.

It was clear Princess Luna had no idea what I meant. I took in a deep breath.

Should I tell her?

"I..." I started, but paused until it became awkward. "M-may I go now?" The words came out hard, like stones. Each syllable was saddled with guilt. You coward.

She nodded. "Featherweight, I wish you to know something. You may contact me about anything at all, and should you elect, it shall remain secreted between us," she explained. "It is not my place to judge you, nor the issues with which you grapple. Do you understand what I am saying to you?" Something about the tone of her question made me think she was trying to communicate something deeper, but if so, I was too stupid to follow.

I paused. "Yes, I do. Thank you, Princess." Ugh! You coward!

"Then I believe it is time for you to awaken," she whispered, and gently pet my mane as the world faded into painful brightness.

My last thought in the dream world was the disturbing realization that I would have felt like a coward even if I had told her everything.

I can't escape what I am.

I awoke to pain in my ridgling nuts and the smell of blueberry pancakes. For a brief moment, I felt relieved to be awake. Then I remembered the events of last night and my muscles seized up. Thunderlane was a fully-grown stallion. I was just a foal, and he touched me. Not there, but still.

The worst part was that I'd liked it. I almost needed it to happen. I barely resisted, and then, only on instinct. If I'd let it happen, maybe I'd have... I don't know, fallen in love, or something? Not that a feeling like that makes any sense to a foal.

I lifted the covers and found to my disgust that fresh semen had come out of my penis and dried up again. Had I orgasmed a second time as I slept? I didn't know, but lacking any other options, I wiped myself clean as possible with the covers then washed up in the adjoining bathroom after a morning pee. There wasn't a washcloth or anything, so I used toilet paper and dusted the remnants off before resheathing.

Despite a fear of facing Thunderlane so deep it twisted my gut in knots, I stood up and exited his bedroom. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. My balls were aching pretty badly, but the physical pain helped mask the other kind even better than the pills do. I wasn't about to give that shield up until I at least had a chance to gauge how Thunderlane was doing. It shouldn't have bothered me, but I was actually worried about how he was feeling.

As I approached the dining room, Thunderlane was serving up pancakes to Rumble. There was a plate for me too, set and waiting. "Hay, Feather!" he called.

I didn't like that he left off the "weight" in my name, because the figurative was also the literal and I didn't want to be that familiar with him after last night. But I saw the fear in his eyes, and it made my heart ache. He hadn't tried to hurt me or anything, I realized, and he was as much a victim of his nuts as I was. If I hadn't been raped the previous day, what happened might not have even bothered me that much.

Thunder coughed and slipped a stack of pancakes onto my plate. "I was just about to get you up," he said with a sickly smile. "It's a brand-new day, right? Here's to fresh starts!"

Sheesh, that was direct, I thought. I didn't mean to, but I'm sure I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah, fresh starts," I mumbled. "Look, it's okay."

"What's okay?" said Rumble, though it came out pretty muffled by a mouthful of pancake.

I'm sure Thunderlane would have intervened, but I was getting used to lying. "Sorry, I'm just distracted. My balls hurt really bad," I said, which was technically not a lie. (Those are the easiest kind of lies.)

Rumble swallowed. "You mean your sac, dude. Or maybe phantom balls? That sounds kinda cool. Er, not the pain part, though."

"I trust you to take a pill, Feather," said Thunderlane, and then he paused. "It's good that you want to let me know when you take one, though. Let's go together."

I felt a chill run down my spine, but then I figured he wasn't about to molest me. He wants to clear the air, obviously.

We walked into his room and he shut the door. "Guy... I'm so sorry for last night. Seriously." The guilt was written all over his face.

I shrugged. "I'm sure you are. Or, maybe you just don't want to go to prison and get kicked out of the 'Bolts."

His face paled in shock. "P-please, Feather. I'm as worried about what would happen to Rumble as I am what would happen to me! Don't do this. I'm begging you."

I frowned. "I didn't mean to scare you. Of course I'm not going to tell. It's okay. I don't even really blame you," I said. "And you stopped when I asked you to. It's just... I was raped the other day, y'know?"

He pounded his hoof to his forehead. "Dammit! I should have kept that foremost in mind. I ignored it because I didn't want to think about it, and when you didn't want to talk about it, I just..." he said, then paused as he pulled the pill bottle from my bags. "No. There's no excuse for how I acted last night."

"Yes there is," I said, and I pointed at his missing sac and the gonads hidden beneath his scar.

"No, colt. Being a stallion... it's not like that," he insisted. Thunder pulled out a pill and tossed it to me. (I caught it in my mouth, which made me feel awesome. I guess that was childish.) "We need to talk about this later, though. Rumble's going to get suspicious."

"Sure," I said, having run out of things to say anyway. Then I opened the door and we both saw Rumble galloping back to the table.

"Shit," whispered Thunderlane.

We cantered back to the table. Rumble was staring down at the last bit of pancake on his plate, and said nothing.

"Hay Rumble," said Thunder, resting a hoof on his shoulder. "Listen. We're not hiding things from you, you understand? Feather's your friend more than mine, but he had a really hard geld. He has questions for me because I'm an adult."

"Thunderlane... you can say it," I said, and I saw a bead of sweat form on Thunder's forehead. His mouth opened, but he didn't say anything. "I'm embarrassed about what happened at my geld, okay?"

"Dang. I'm... I'm real sorry," Rumble said to me, his voice very soft, and he looked up to his brother. "Bro, I'm sorry. I swear I am. Are you mad at me?"

Thunderlane's brow lifted. "Well, I'm not happy with you, bud. You need to respect ponies' privacy, even if you think you aren't gonna get caught," he said. "I know Feather's your best friend, though, and you're probably just worried about him, so I forgive you. But you need that more from him than me."

"We're cool," I told Rumble, and shrugged. "Don't sweat it."

"It was dumb," said Rumble, frowning. I could tell he was beating himself up over it.

Thunder coughed loudly into a hoof. "Um, I do need to know what you heard, though. Okay?"

Rumble breathed a short sigh and nodded. "I didn't hear hardly nothing. You said something about being a stallion, so... I guess you were talking about, um..."

"My father," I interjected. I'm not sure how, but I was ready for this lie.

"I shouldn't have listened in. I'm sorry Feather," said Rumble, his ears pinned back in shame.

I smiled weakly. "Seriously! It's fine, Rumble. I've just had a rough couple of days, that's all."

"I need you to know you're not like your dad. You never will be," said Rumble, staring intently at me. "You're a good guy, just like us."

"Um, thanks," I said. Oddly enough, I didn't feel guilty. He was right, I realized. I won't ever be like my father, no matter how much of this poison pumps through my veins. I'd rather die than hurt a filly, or anypony else.

Then again, Thunderlane probably thought the same thing. Still, he didn't actually hurt me. He thought about it, but he stopped himself. I think he's a good stallion, I mused. Yeah. There is such a thing as a good stallion.

Rumble yawned. "Colt. I kinda stayed up a little after I was supposed to hit the hay," he admitted. "If you two still need to talk and stuff... I'd like to go back to sleep for a while, so I won't bother you. Is that okay?"

Thunderlane smiled. "Sure thing, champ."

Then Rumble stood up and walked over to me, and he hugged me. I hugged him back, pretty tight, and felt great relief. I was still waiting for the pill to kick in, but I needed pony contact. I'd needed it last night and I needed it even more now. He was such a good friend to me.

After Rumble went to his room, Thunderlane and I sat down at the table as I finished my food. "I'm sure he won't listen in again, but I kinda want to keep my voice down anyway," said Thunder.

I nodded and swallowed a big bite of pancake. "Yeah," I said, then I leaned my head back and shut my eyes. "Oh, thank Celestia."

"Hmm?"

"The pill. It's finally kicking in."

"Oh. The pain thing... it's really unfortunate. Pseudos hurt more than a real geld, but even so I'm sure mine wasn't as painful as yours," he said. "Do you think it was from what they did to you? Were you like, fighting them? Wait, no. I don't even want to imagine it."

"It's probably just 'cause I'm so freakishly thin. It's fine, though. I need to talk about it to get over it, I guess," I said. I didn't quite believe that, but I desperately hoped it would help. "I didn't fight, I just begged them to geld me for real, and I cried a lot. I kind of... lost my mind, like I was floating outside my body, and I stopped feeling anything. They finally did the drug thing, but it was already horrible by then."

Thunder winced, and his eyes shined with moisture. "I don't know if I can forgive the doctor," he whispered. "I don't know what he was thinking."

"I do. He was thinking about protecting himself, and you, and the rest of the herd," I said. "I don't even know if I can blame him, really. Doing this... thing to me, it makes sure I keep my mouth shut."

"I know you don't want to hear this, but none of this crap would be necessary if gelding weren't mandatory," said Thunderlane. "Still, it was wrong."

"Maybe," I said, and shrugged. Then I bit my tongue, because I remembered something. "I, um... I think I wet your bed. Not pee, though." My eyes were clenched tight.

"I know. I heard you last night," said Thunderlane, and I opened my eyes to see a gentle expression on his face. "It's okay. There's nothing wrong with masturbation. It's totally normal."

"Maybe, but doing it every single day isn't normal. Nothing about stallions is normal," I said. I wasn't trying to argue for the sake of arguing, though. I just wanted to understand how twisted his mind had become.

"Yes, it is normal. This is how our bodies work."

I shook my head. "No. Normal means something is common, like, the standard," I said. "Maybe a thousand years ago this was normal, but it isn't today."

"Well, a thousand years ago execution for murder was 'normal'," he countered. "Normal doesn't make something right or wrong. What I mean is, it's natural."

I shook my head. "That's the same deal. Natural doesn't mean something is good or bad. Like, I dunno... houses aren't natural, but they're good, right? And poison joke is natural," I argued.

Thunderlane sighed. "It's how we were meant to be," he said. "It's part of the natural evolution of our species."

"Nothing in nature is 'meant to be'. It just is what it is. When we lived in tribes, maybe rape made sense, even if it was horrible," I said. "Now it's wrong in two ways: it's just wrong, like it always was, and now, from, um... us evolving, like you said. I mean, into the future. Rape babies aren't a good thing for today's society."

Obvious worry showed on his face. "You aren't a bad thing, Feather. You know that, right? I mean, of course raping your mom was wrong, but you are good for society. It worked out because your mom is so strong, and she was ready to be a parent."

I ignored that, because I didn't want to think about it. "This is pointless. It doesn't matter if it's good or bad. It feels horrible," I said. "It was wonderful, I admit it, and then right afterwards it was horrible. I can't take how horrible it felt. I can't handle this."

"That'll go away soon, I swear," said Thunder. "It stops being horrible when you realize there's nothing wrong with how you feel. Those sensations in your body are natur—look, pleasure is not a bad thing, okay? Feeling joy isn't shameful or bad, and giving pleasure to others is a great thing. It's something you get to enjoy in solitude, or share with mares, or even geldings or stallions if you prefer. It's beautiful, Feather, it really is."

I thought about ordering him to call me Featherweight, but then I realized I'd grown comfortable with it. I want to be open with him, because he's one of very few ponies who knows what I'm going through. He isn't the bad guy here, I thought. I want to be close to him, I want to...

I stood up from the table. "Can we go back to your bedroom? I think... I'll be more comfortable there."

Wait, why? What am I doing? I didn't know what my brain was thinking, but my heart started racing.

"Um, that's fine by me," he said.

We walked into his bedroom, and I shut the door. Right, the bed. Maybe I just want to confront what I did.

"So... your bed's kind of a mess now. I think I may have done it a second time in my sleep, too. I woke up and there was more sticky stuff on my... you know. Only a tiny bit, though," I said.

"Oh. It was probably just drooling," he said.

I narrowed my eyes. "I didn't drool, Thunder. This came out of my thing, not my muzzle." I realized I'd just called him 'Thunder', so maybe I was getting overly familiar with him, too. For some reason, it felt nice. This thing I was struggling with was lonely. I couldn't tell my best friend in the world, but his brother reminded me of him...

"Yeah. Sometimes it doesn't empty all the way, so there's some left inside that oozes out after you do it," he explained. "It's fine. I'll do the laundry today. I've had cum stains in my sheets plenty of times."

At the time I didn't know what he meant by the weird grammar of, "I've had come", but the gist was clear.

"I'm not, um, what's it called... 'horny'," I said. "Thanks to the pill, and I guess whatever happened last night. But, uh, could you lie down with me?"

I couldn't believe I was asking him for this. It was like I didn't have control of my own mouth, and my heart was thumping like mad.

Thunderlane grimaced. "Feather, after what happened last night..."

"Please, just hold me. Like my mom does," I asked. "I just... I need to feel like somepony cares."

"I could give you a hug, I guess. Is that okay?"

"I need the bed," I said. I did need the bed. I wasn't sure why.

Thunder looked at the bed, then back to me. "I want you to feel comfortable with your body, and to be able to come to me when you need help," he said. "This... feels like a bad idea, but... okay, here's the deal. I'll hug you in bed, but only for a few minutes, and if anything happens we stop."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Yeah, yeah. That's great," I said, then I climbed into the bed. "Oh, wait. The sheets are still gross."

"We don't need covers just to cuddle for a moment," he said.

"No. I need the covers too," I said. "I... I don't know why, but I need them."

Thunderlane pulled his lips thin. "I'm sure it's dry by now, so it shouldn't bother you. But... I'm worried about this Feather. You need something from me that I can't give you."

"Please. Please," I begged. I put it all that stress into my eyes where he could see it.

Without saying another word, Thunderlane climbed into bed with me and scooted up behind me. As I felt his legs encircle me, my heart did a flip. I needed this so badly. I didn't understand why, but it didn't matter. I had to fill the hole in my heart with something.

"Thank you," I whispered, holding his forelegs in mine. I reached up and turned out the light on the nightstand, and then it all clicked.

I want it to be like it was last night.

"I care about you, Feather, but this feels like a mistake. You don't have control over your emotions right now, partly because you're a foal, and partly because of what you've been through," he whispered back.

"But it helps me so much," I said. "It's what I need."

We cuddled for a minute or two, and I relaxed, but my pulse remained rapid. I felt the warm air from his nostrils tickle my ear and I leaned back into his warmth. I'd never felt comfort like this before. It was almost like the past few days hadn't happened. All that mattered was somepony loved me, even if he was practically a stranger.

Then it happened, as I must have known it would. Something warm pressed up against me. This time it was against my tailbase, because of how we were positioned and the fact that apparently I had lifted my tail.

When did I lift tail? More importantly, why?

"Okay, we really have to stop now," he whispered.

"It's okay. I like it," I said.

"Feather..."

"Just... just wait a little more, okay?" I pleaded. "I mean, I'm not horny, right? And you're not really attracted to guys anyway."

"I don't like foals, and I don't like guys, but... I guess I'm attracted to you," he whispered back, and I felt that gross part of him pulse as my tail curled tightly around it. "I don't know. I mean, you're... you're kind of pretty, and vulnerable, like a mare... Oh, crap, I don't mean it like that."

"No, it's good! I like being like that," I said. "I like being... attractive, to somepony. I would... I would be a mare for you."

"Feather, there are lots of fillies who would love to be with you, they're probably just too embarrassed to say anything, and you're still so young," he said. "But we have to stop, this is crazy. What I'm doing with you right now is criminal."

"So what? We're already criminals," I pointed out. "We can do whatever we want."

"I don't want to hurt you," he said, but I could feel the beat of his heart through the warm flesh pressed against my tail. I knew he wanted me, and that knowledge felt amazing, but I was worried he would leave me anyway.

"Please, just a little more..." I said, and then a truly evil thought crossed my mind and hit me square in the gut. "Oh, Celestia. I just thought of something horrible. I mean, I'd never do it, but..."

I waited for a prompt, but Thunderlane said nothing.

So I said, "I could force you to love me, couldn't I?"

"W-what?" he whispered.

"I mean, you'd go to prison if I said anything about this, or even if I just told somepony you're a stallion. So... I could make you do whatever I wanted, including love me," I said. "But I'm ashamed I even thought that. I wouldn't do it."

There was a long moment of silence, and I felt his pulse quicken. "I guess... you could do it. I wouldn't be upset... Or maybe we could just pretend you were doing it..." he whispered in a trembling voice, and I felt him throb hard. "Wait, what? No, no, this is totally wrong!" He stood up and got off of the bed, then turned on the light. He was fully aroused, judging from his bobbing penis, and his wings were erect and twitching.

I felt wetness on my cheeks and realized I was crying. "I know you want me," I said. "Why won't you be with me?"

"This, this is exactly why," he said, and his penis softened. "You're confused, Feather. You're hurt. You want to be cared about by somepony, but this isn't the way to do it. Sex is not the same as love. It's something you get to share with a special somepony, but if you're young, or brash, you can hurt your feelings really bad with it."

I sat up in bed and wiped my eyes. "I want to have sex, but I'm not horny? I don't even know what sex is! I mean, it's nuts, I know I'm not horny, and I still want something I don't even understand," I said. I felt a deep hollowness settle in my chest. "My brain's been poisoned already. It's been, what, a week? Cheerilee says it takes months for test—test-whatever to poison your brain, but... it's already too late for me!"

"Your brain isn't 'poisoned'," said Thunderlane. "Look, there's even a few geldings who enjoy sex when they're not horny. This isn't as weird as you think it is."

"No, something's changed. What they say about tee, it's true—I can feel how it's messed me up inside. And all it took was a few days," I whispered, closing my eyes. "I thought I had more time, and I didn't take the warnings seriously. Now I can't even recognize myself."

I felt the bed move as Thunderlane sat down beside me. "You haven't changed, Feather. Most of what you're feeling is because of what Doctor Pastures did to you. This isn't about your balls. I mean, obviously it is, but it's not because of them," he said as he began to pet my mane. I found it instantly soothing. I think I just needed him to touch me; the reason didn't matter. "You're forced to keep this huge secret from everypony you care about, you know society hates you, you're in a lot of physical pain, you're on drugs you're probably already addicted to, and you've just been raped. None of this is psychologically healthy. Of course you're going to be confused. It would be concerning if you weren't bothered by all this."

I reopened my eyes and sniffled. "What can I do to make this stop hurting? Just tell me what to do."

Thunderlane took a deep breath. "You have to start trusting me and the others—I mean, trust that we're going to protect you from now on. I know what the doctor did was wrong, but that isn't going to happen ever again," he promised me. "You have to convince yourself it's okay to feel pleasure, which takes time, but that will make the bad feelings go away. And you have to get off of these pills as soon as possible. The first time you take one when you're not in pain, you're an addict, and you may end up chronically in pain because of it. It's really easy for that to happen."

"I just want to feel better than this, and you holding me is the best thing I've ever felt in my life," I admitted. "I'll touch it if you want me to, I don't care. You're already a sex criminal, and so am I. What does it matter?"

"It's still wrong," he said. "Besides, what if Rumble walked in on us? How would you feel then?"

I knew he was appealing to my sense of shame, but somewhere along the way I'd managed to block it out completely.

"I... I don't know. Maybe he could join us," I said, flatly.

Thunder looked horrified. "Oh Feather, no. That's sick. Don't even joke about that."

"You said you wanted to share this with him."

"Not like that! I mean, share knowledge, talk about feelings, not actually... you know, with him!" he said.

I whipped my tail against the bed. "I don't even know anymore. I mean, why is anything wrong? It's just doing what feels good, isn't it? 'You'll get over it and learn to enjoy it.' That's the message I keep hearing from everypony," I said. "So why does something like that even matter? Maybe you'd both like it."

Thunder crouched down and took my hooves in his, and he looked me directly in the eyes. "No. That is NOT the message, Featherweight," he whispered. "It can be okay if foals do it together and you're comfortable with it and there's mutual consent, but an adult and a foal is not healthy. And family members, that's just gross. Basic biology makes that feel naturally awful, for good reason."

"But you wanted me," I said, closing my eyes. "I... I didn't want to tell you, but... I thought about you last night, okay? I mean, when I did it. I thought about you, and it was horrible, but it felt really good first. If that horrible part actually does go away, I'm probably going to do it again, because I'm that sick inside. That's what you want to happen to me, isn't it? For the bad feelings to leave and the good ones to stay?"

"Fantasies by themselves are fine, they're not sick. Of course I know you were thinking about me, it was right after I left, and you asked me to stay, and I heard... your noises," he said, and then his voice lowered to the tiniest whisper. "Feather, I thought about you too, okay? After I left, I did it too. I'm not proud of that, but it didn't hurt anypony. What you do by yourself... it's just stuff in your head. I don't like thinking about you because I don't want to ever be tempted to hurt you, but I can't hate myself for deriving pleasure from it. If I did, I'd have to hate myself for a lot of other things, too."

I looked back into Thunderlane's eyes. "Like thinking about Rumble?"

"No, because I don't do that. That makes me feel nauseous and I don't even want to talk about the possibility," he said. "I mean, you don't have a brother, but... your mom. Imagine your mom. That feels sick, doesn't it?"

"Eww. Yeah," I whispered, and I stepped out of the bed. "I'm sorry, Thunderlane. I just feel so empty and alone right now, and I thought if I got close to you it might help me feel less awful inside. I mean, I guess that's what I thought. I don't really know what's going through my head, or why I'm doing any of this." I wiped my eyes again, even though the tears had already stopped.

Thunder sighed and stood up straight. "Okay. Let's get out of my room, and stay out. The bed is clearly a stimulus control for you, and I don't want any temptation for either of us. You can wash yourself up and then we can hang out quietly and wait for Rumble to wake up," he said. "I'm still your friend, and I'll be there for you, and I'll hug you if you need it, but we're not doing anything related to sex except me answering simple questions. Sound good?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I need to talk to Rumble about this, though. I can't hide it from him forever."

When I said that, I saw the pain in Thunderlane's eyes. Immediately, I knew bad news was coming.

"You have to," he said. "You can't tell him. Ever."

"He's good at keeping secrets," I said. "I mean, he just said that. And he kept the pill a secret for you. He would never tell anypony!"

Thunderlane shook his head, and his eyes grew misty. "I'm sorry. The Council doesn't think he can handle the knowledge. You can't ever tell him, Feather. You need to promise me you'll never tell him."

I didn't say anything at first, but the silence became unbearable and I gave in. "Okay. I promise. I just... I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"You'll have others like Skeedaddle, and Snips, and me. You can talk to us. And maybe someday we will be able to tell him, but I don't know if it'll happen and it's certainly not now," he said. "Being a stallion is a gift and a burden. I know you didn't ask for this, but lean on Rumble as a friend. He may never know, but he still loves you."

I thought I would start crying again, but the pill's effects were growing stronger, thankfully. I washed up and left Thunderlane in his room. He told me he'd be out in a minute.

I left his door open a crack, though, and peeked through it from a distance. I saw him reach into my bag and take one of my pills. Maybe it was to make up for the one I took, or maybe he would replace it later, but either way, he swallowed it on the spot.

I guess he was right about addiction.

Colt Talk

I lay down on the couch and took a nap as Thunderlane cleaned up. Apparently Rumble was less tired than he'd thought, because I was only out maybe half an hour before he was the one waking me up.

"Hay, wake up, bud! Naptime's over," said Rumble, shaking me on the couch until I moved my legs. "You wanna go flying some today?"

"Gimme a sec," I said, stretching. I felt fatigued from the medication, but my skin was buzzing with pleasure. "I guess I could. I've been ground-bound for too long. I'm pretty dizzy from the meds, though, so nothing fancy, okay?"

Rumble grinned. "Sure! It'll just be nice to be up in the air with you for once." I smiled back, warmed by what a good friend he is. No, wait, that was probably the drugs.

"I'll run Feather's stuff back to his house so you don't have to worry about it," said Thunderlane. "You two have fun, okay?" His smile looked genuine to me, but I didn't think he was trying to appease me or anything. Thunderlane's a nice guy in general, regardless as to what happened last night.

So Rumble and I left his house and took to the air. He let me lead, which was good because I was really rusty. I had only done a few hovers in my room since the surgery, and I prefer to walk rather than fly most of the time anyway because it's polite to walk in an earth pony village.

I started out low. Rumble and I chased each other in circles in his front yard, laughing, and then I led him up just above the houses. I could see Pinkie Pie bouncing from rooftop to rooftop in the distance, for some reason (though I suppose Pinkie doesn't need a reason).

"You wanna go higher?" asked Rumble, swinging beside me as I flew at a lazy pace. I could tell he was itching for adventure more than I was, but I wanted him to scratch that itch.

"Race you to that cloud!" I said, pointing to a small cumulus about three hundred hooves up. I immediately shot upward to take him by surprise, but Rumble quickly passed me. I have the ability to lift very quickly owing to my weight, but Rumble is muscular for his age and very competitive. I think he'll be a Wonderbolt someday, just like his brother.

Rumble glided to the right as we came up to the cloud, then appeared to stall. "Oops!" he said, floundering for a second as he flipped upside down. I laughed and pushed through the soft cloud-fluff by suppressing my cloudhoof.

Rumble went around the cloud from below and landed on it next to me. "Fine, you win this one," he said with obvious mock envy.

"You cheater!" I replied, poking him in the ribs.

"Cheater? You're the one who won," he pointed out, sticking out his tongue. I gave him a serious look, and he rolled his eyes. "Okay, fine, I let you win. But it's not exactly fair! I've got Wonderbolt genes. I think you do too, though. If you trained at all you could be almost as good as me!"

I laughed. "I dunno about that. I get good lift, but it's harder for me to drop. It's like my body wants to float."

"Yeah, you're a natural glider. You can get around that with body posture, but, um... since we're alone, there's something I wanted to ask you about," he said. His voice grew unusually soft, and I felt the feathers at the base of my wings prick up. I hate waiting for the horseshoe to drop, and my experiences of the past few days meant nothing felt safe anymore, not even talking to my best bud.

"Y-yeah?" I said, and swallowed a mouthful of air.

"Dude, it's fine. Don't freak out. I just, I w-wanna..." said Rumble, and I could tell he was the one freaking out. "I want to know something personal."

Please, please don't be about the gelding, I thought. I don't want to lie to my best friend, especially not when he's like this.

"Sure. If I can tell you, I'll tell you," I said. "I don't like keeping secrets from my bestie."

He nodded. "Is... is Thunder, like... your coltfriend?"

My jaw dropped. "I, w-what?"

Rumble grimaced. "I didn't just listen in this morning. I listened to you last night," he admitted. "I know it was really wrong, I know I wasn't respecting your privacy, and I swear I'm sorry! Please don't be mad. Please don't tell him I did it... horse apples I wish I'd been good instead of bad. I wish I could pretend I didn't hear it, but it's eating me up inside. That's why I had to listen in the morning..."

It was cool up here today, high above Ponyville. Still, I could feel beads of perspiration forming on my forehead. I couldn't remember precisely what we said or did last night, and I didn't want to remember, either. I paused for a moment before responding.

"What did you hear?" I finally asked him. There was no way he'd heard all of it, because he'd know we were stallions... and I doubted this would be his first question if he'd heard that much.

"Just tell me, dude. Please." I could see desperation in his eyes.

I bit my lip. "No, of course he's not like that... but... what did you hear?"

Rumble sighed. "He said... he said you were going to 'love it' when something happened to you, and then you said you didn't want to, and then... then he said he wished he could share it with me, but I'd never know what it was like," he said, closing his eyes. "I guess he meant being gay? I went back to bed then, but I didn't get to sleep for a while. In the morning I heard him saying there was no excuse for what he did, but you seemed cool with it... and you said you were... raped. And he knew what you meant, and... and I don't know what happened to you, and..." Rumble covered his face with his hooves and began to sniffle.

"Oh no. It's okay," I said, and I pulled him into a hug. "I don't want you to hurt."

At the time I thought I was just being a friend, but in retrospect, I was more worried about Rumble's emotional state than my own. My actions weren't very rational. I was, like, 'a projector' or something, I think the shrinks call it. I couldn't comfort myself, so I comforted him instead. It helped us both, though.

"It wasn't him, was it? It couldn't be! Just tell me it wasn't him!" said Rumble, sobbing.

"What? No, Rumble! I... look, I don't remember exactly what was said, but it was the geld. He was talking about my geld. They did it without Mom being there, not even the fake Mom that took me there, and they forced me to do it even though I fought it. I begged them to slow down a little, but they didn't, and they didn't medicate me until after my brain had totally snapped," I said, trying to lie as little as possible. "I was just lying there motionless and letting it happen because I didn't want to let Mom down, but I was real messed up inside and they knew it and they didn't medicate me because... because they made a mistake. A really, really bad mistake. They didn't tell Mom any of that because they're super afraid of getting in trouble after finding out she wasn't the one who brought me, and also just because of how horrible what they did was, and I don't want her to know because it would hurt her too much."

I was grateful we were still embracing, because I wouldn't have been able to handle looking my friend in the eye as I revealed what I'd been through, even if it wasn't a hundred percent true. I wasn't crying, but it was only the drugs holding it back. Though I guess being able to comfort Rumble helped with that, too.

He pulled back and wiped his eyes again with a fetlock, sniffling. "Buck... I don't understand why this happened! It isn't fair, Feather. If Bro knows, why isn't he telling your mom for you?" he asked. "You don't deserve—"

"I don't want her to know, Rumble!" I whispered, but with the energy of a shout so he'd take the hint to keep his voice down. "Thunder wasn't exaggerating when he called it rape. It was almost that bad. They did a very bad thing to me, but they weren't trying to hurt me. But my Mom was raped, for real. If she knew something like that happened to me, she'd lose her mind."

Rumble gritted his teeth. "The ponies who did this need to pay for what they did to you," he said. "Especially since they're hiding this from your Mom! You know this is wrong, Feather."

"They feel guilty, and they weren't trying to hurt me. It's unlikely this will ever happen to another colt," I said. "I agree they probably deserve to be punished, but I feel like it's my fault for not wanting to be gelded, and I'm still hurting inside even though I know it's not really my fault."

Just then, I realized when I said, "I know it's not really my fault," that I was lying. I mean, I knew if any sane pony saw what happened to me that's what they'd say, but I still felt a heavy guilt saddling me. I knew I had a lot to work out. I knew I needed therapy, but I'd never be able to get it.

"I'm sorry. Please don't cry," said Rumble.

"Oh. I didn't realize I was," I said, and wiped my eyes. "It's just... it's really rough. Please, please don't tell anypony."

Rumble closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. "I'm... I'm just so angry. You should be angry too, Featherweight. Nopony should treat a colt like that, not even if you were a bad pony, and you're not a bad pony."

It was so strange. I knew what he was saying was true, but it still didn't feel true. I was learning that knowing and feeling are very different things. "I guess," I said, and shrugged. "But that's why we were so quiet. I've only been able to open up to a couple of ponies who knew what a bad geld was like."

"Did... did this happen to my brother? Did it happen to Skeedaddle?" asked Rumble.

I shook my head. "No. Not the way it happened to me. It was rough for them, but it wasn't nearly that rough. But I still feel a little safer talking to them, and they won't tell anypony."

"I don't like this, dude. I really don't. But... I won't tell, either. Okay?" he said, looking into my eyes with his bleary, red ones. I was pretty sure my eyes looked fine despite shedding a few tears. "You don't have to worry about me."

"Thanks. It means a lot to me," I said. "And look, I think you can tell I'm holding back, so I'll admit there's more details and stuff I don't wanna talk about. Maybe someday I'll be able to share it, but you just being here and caring about me... it means everything."

He gave me another hug. "Always," he said. I held him back, gripping tighter than I'd intended. We held each other until it became awkward, and then he pulled back and I let him go. "But, um... I need to ask one thing, and you don't gotta answer, but it's something I really need..."

"Sure, go ahead," I said.

"I know my brother was apologizing for doing something to you after the... what happened, and you said he stopped so it was okay. I'll never tell, I swear, but you're really honest that you weren't doing... y'know, stuff, with him?" he asked. "I mean, I know there's nothing wrong with being gay or whatever. I just thought Thunder liked fillies."

I took a deep breath. What could I say? "We cuddled a little in bed, and it got awkward. We didn't do sex or anything," I said. "I mean, I don't know how stall—I mean, geldings do it, but that's all that happened. I don't think it was gay, it was more like, emotional? I needed somepony to love me real bad, and he, um, he felt like he was taking advantage of that or something, so he left and slept on the couch instead. Because he's a good guy. But nothing happened, and I don't think he's gay, and I don't think... I don't know if I'm gay or anything."

"Oh. Well, that's fine," said Rumble, with a shrug. "I understand the rape thing, but I don't get why you had to be secret about the other thing."

"Rumble, you can't tell anypony about that. Thunderlane would get drummed out of the Wonderbolts! And maybe even go to prison..." I said.

"What? Gay stuff isn't illegal, Feather," he said. "There are several gay 'Bolts already. Or, maybe, um, 'bi', or whatever."

I blinked a few times. "Rumble. I'm twelve years old."

Rumble looked confused. "Yeah, and I'm eleven. What do you mean?"

"I mean it's super-illegal for an adult and a foal to be special someponies! Even cuddling with somepony who isn't your family could get him in trouble," I said.

"You are an adult now, dummy," he said, turning around on the cloud to point at his scar. "Me too."

I facehoofed. "It doesn't work that way, you have to either be seventeen or within four years of each other. Wow. I'm surprised you didn't know this," I said. "How did you not know that? Did you think fillies and colts start having sex as soon as they enter heat or get gelded? Oh geez, I hope you haven't been flirting with mares."

"I fell asleep that day in class, I guess? Lay off," he said, frowning. "And no, of course I haven't flirted with mares. I haven't flirted with anypony! Special someponies are gross."

"Okay, okay. Sorry. I just meant... well, anyway, it's extremely illegal, so you need to be careful if an adult tries to, uh, seduce you, or whatever," I said.

"Ugh. I know that much," said Rumble. "I just didn't know the age thing. Or that it was like, that illegal. I don't think Bro would get in trouble from just what you said happened, right?"

I raised my eyebrows. "He might. I don't think you'd ever want it to look like you're coming on to a foal," I said. "But no, he didn't do anything bad to me, and when he realized we were too close, he left. So it's not something he should get in trouble for, but it's better not to risk it."

Rumble breathed a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. Sheesh. It's not like we even need those stupid laws anymore. Ponies are civilized. We have geldings, not stallions. Geldings almost never do stuff like that! We should give geldings the benefit of the doubt."

I felt a sharp tension building in my neck. "I guess... they probably do. And obviously I would tell the truth about him, so he's not in any trouble. I'm just overreacting a little."

"Oh, right. After what they did to you," he growled. "You probably don't feel like trusting anypony."

"Yeah," I said. "I trust you, though, and I... I guess I trust Thunder."

Rumble nodded, then spent a moment picking at our little cloud with a forehoof. "So, um, you're sure you're not, y'know?"

It took a moment before the light came on. "Oh. Gay? I... I dunno. I don't think I'm ace, at least. I think I like fillies, but I dunno about colts yet, so I guess I could be bi or something. It's just not something I want to think about right now."

His eyes widened. "Oh, oh shoot. I'm sorry, Feather. I just... I don't know about myself, either, y'know? And I don't like fillies or colts, but I've been thinking about it since the geld. I don't even know how I'd know, but I guess you just know when you know," he said. "Look, um, I don't think I'm gonna like colts, but as long as you keep it secret, if you ever wanted to try... I'd do it for you. I mean, even if I don't like it at all, I'd try to help you out. You're my best friend, Featherweight."

I paused to let that sink in. My best bud just offered to 'do stuff' with me even though he isn't gay. Or... maybe he is gay? Maybe this is how he's coming out to me, because he's embarrassed?

I wanted to kiss him. I didn't understand why, but I wanted to bring him into the fold, to experience the good parts of being a stallion, without the bad. We could still share love, even if he's just a gelding... right?

I wasn't horny, but my penis started to drop. A chill ran right down my spine. The fear was so palpable, it stopped me short, and so I retracted into my sheath. (My penis retracted, I mean, but I was starting to feel like that thing between my legs was what I was becoming.)

"I... look, forget I said anything, I didn't mean to..." said Rumble, wincing.

"No, no, it's cool!" I said. "It feels good to know you care about me that much, Rumble. But with what I just went through... I don't really want to do sex with anypony. Even just kissing."

But deep inside, that weird temptation was still there. Do it now. Kiss him. Do that disgusting thing Snails told you about where you put the tongue in, I heard echoing in the back of my mind. You'll grow even closer. He'll love it, and he'll love you. You need to be loved. Make him love you.

At first I thought it was my balls making me think sick stuff, but that didn't make any sense. I wasn't horny for Rumble at all, which is why it was so easy to resist. So then, what was it? If it's not my balls telling me this, and kissing him still seems super gross... how come I've never felt this way before? Am I just, really damaged inside, after everything that happened the other day? My thoughts were all jumbled and confusing.

"Right, right, cool," said Rumble, bringing my attention back to reality. He looked relieved at my answer, then he turned and stared over the edge of the cloud. For a moment I thought I saw him blush, but I decided it must have been the bright light from Celestia's Sun. "Oh! Race you to the ground!" he shouted with a goofy grin, then leaped off the cloud before things could get awkward.

I'm not sure how I managed to keep up with him, but I was right on his butt the whole way down.

To my horror, I noticed Rumble has a really cute butt.

For a colt, I mean.

We flew around some more, then after a while we parted ways so I could have some alone time. My wings were exhausted since I hadn't been stretching them enough, and I was looking forward to a nap.

When I got home, Mom was making a casserole, so I knew it'd be a few hours before dinner.

"Hay Mom," I said, stepping into the kitchen.

"Hello sweetie," said Mom. "I had a nice lunch with your teacher today." She put down what she was doing and hugged me tighter than a boa constrictor. Fortunately, she let go before I ran out of breath.

"Ow, my ribs. I guess you missed me?" I said, rubbing my sides.

"Feather, I need you to promise me something," she said, kneeling down to look me eye-to-eye on the level. "I've been so concerned about what you've been through that I don't think I've been clear about this. Don't you ever do anything crazy like that again. Please. You could have been hurt by that mare, or worse."

I nodded. "You don't have to tell me twice. I know it was a huge mistake." More than you even know, Mom.

She sighed, and I could tell from the look on her face it was still chipping away at her from within. "Did you have a good time at Rumble's?"

I nodded. "Yeah, it was great. He's a good friend," I said. "Thunderlane's pretty swell too." It wasn't a lie, but I still had some mixed feelings about Thunder.

Then I started thinking about his penis, and I spaced out while Mom was saying something to me.

"Baby? You still with me?" she asked, standing back up.

"Oh, um, sorry. It's just... I'm still dealing with stuff," I said, then closed my eyes. Oh gosh. I don't want to ask my Mom, but she's the only one I can trust who knows this stuff... "Mom, um... could I ask you something? Like... something kinda gross?" I lowered my head shyly.

She nodded and half-smiled. "Of course, Son. You can always ask me anything, you know that."

"I understand how mating works because they talk about reproduction in class, but... I don't really know anything else about sex," I said. "The older colts talk about it but I don't usually hang out with them, and I wouldn't trust most of them about this anyway."

"Oh, is that all. Well, have a seat," she said, pointing to a chair at the dining table. Then she sat down beside me. "What do you want to know?"

I squinted. "Um, well... what is sex, I guess? Other than, er, reproduction stuff."

"Sure. Sex is difficult to define because it's different things to different ponies. It fills multiple needs: reproduction, emotional attachment, sexual pleasure, and psychological catharsis," she explained.

"What's catharsis?" I asked.

"I... don't know the exact definition off the top of my head, but a catharsis is something that makes you feel better about or helps you overcome a psychological problem, basically. A lot of the weirder things ponies do sexually, like wearing tack and saddles, they do because it makes them feel better about themselves," she said.

My eyes widened so much I'm surprised they didn't fall out of my head. "Wait, that's what saddles are for?"

Mom actually blushed at that. "There are some rare military uses, and I suppose a foal, or maybe Spike the dragon could ride on one," she said. "But saddles and underwear are... risque, to be sure."

"Rarity sells both of those," I pointed out. "Oh wow. Um, but, you were saying about the weird stuff?"

"Right. You see, you have to be able to relax to enjoy sex, so whatever makes you feel comfortable with yourself is what you'll like to do. I should probably get you a book or two on sex from Twilight's Royal Library," she continued. "Emotional attachment is the fact that sex is intimate, and it helps you feel close to somepony and to develop a bond where you feel comfortable sharing part of your life. It's very similar to a family bond."

"Oh, I get it. So... those things are why ponies can do sex when they're not horny. Er, that was a word I heard Thunderlane use once," I said. "I asked him a couple of things, but nothing like this. I guess it doesn't just mean for unicorns."

Mom chuckled. "No, it just means you're sexually aroused. And that's a normal thing, even for geldings. But as a gelding, you won't have to deal with constant arousal. You have the ability to turn on and turn off your sex drive," she said. "A stallion is less fortunate. Stallions were horny much of the time, especially when young. They would need to masturbate multiple times per day just to function."

A look of terror must have crossed my face. I could see it in Mom's eyes. "I, um... that's pretty awful," I said, then took a short breath. "And sexual pleasure is what makes you horny, and it's also what makes you jackle-ate too?"

"Well... more or less, yes. Though being horny can go away if you relax and engage in other activities. Again, it's much harder for stallions," she said, staring intently into my eyes for a moment. "What else do you want to know, Son?"

"I guess, um, what makes you horny? Oh—not you, I mean! I mean, somepony in general," I said, blushing. "Like, how do you do sex at all? Like, I know mating, but adults kiss and use their tongues, and there's got to be a way, like, two geldings do it. Or two mares, if they're gay and stuff." I was staring at the floor at this point, embarrassed and afraid to look into my mother's eyes.

I heard her take a deep breath. "Well, there are many things that turn ponies on. Sometimes the cathartic things I mentioned make ponies horny just because they associate them with sex. But as for general things, any contact with the genitals, or the teats on a mare, or the—"

"Stop!" I said, looking back up. "I, uh, sorry. I'm too embarrassed."

She nodded and bit at her lip. "Maybe we can go over this on another day, then. Or I can get you a book..."

I shook my head. "I just, I just can't talk about it, out loud. Could you, um, write down some of the stuff? Both the straight stuff and the gay stuff. I don't think I'm gay or anything—"

"And there would be nothing wrong if you were, Featherweight. Being gay is not a vice. You know that, don't you?" she asked.

I nodded quickly and averted my eyes again. "Right, I know, I'm just... I don't really like fillies much or colts at all yet, but I still wanna know about it."

"Well, it can take a little longer for a gelding to figure out their feelings than it can for a filly. You have all the time in the world to discover things about yourself, honey," she said in a voice so soothing, it actually lowered my awful anxiety. "I'll write down some of the basics, and then you can take it to your room and read it. Okay?"

After I agreed to her terms, I retreated to my room and shut the door. I felt so nervous lying on my bed it was like ants were crawling all over my pelt. My heart was racing. Am I horny? I was pretty sure I wasn't, but I knew all this talk about sex could make me drop in a heartbeat.

If she tells me what colts do together, will I start thinking about Thunderlane that way? Will my filthy body betray me yet again?

It felt like she was taking forever. Finally, there was one solid rap on my door, and the sound of paper sliding. I hopped out of bed and picked up the single sheet Mom had pushed under the door. It had writing on both sides, and read:

Most sex involves contact between erogenous zones. These are parts of a pony's body that can stimulate sexual pleasure, including genital and anal regions, teats, the alula of the wing, a unicorn's horn, the mouth, and the hooves (especially for earth ponies). Any contact with an erogenous zone may be considered sex, as can observing or listening to another pony or ponies engaging in sex.

Vaginal intercourse, or coitus, is what ponies usually mean by sex: penis into vagina, as you've been taught in school. Oral sex is also common, which involves one pony putting their mouth on or around the genital area of another pony and stimulating it with the mouth, and this works no matter whether the giver or receiver is a mare or gelding. Anal sex is copulation by putting a penis into the rectum of another pony. Both gay male and straight ponies can do this. And naturally, anything can be stimulated with the hooves.

I'd never felt my heart pound so fast before. I dropped the paper on the floor, my mind racing with disgusting images. Anal sex seemed super-gross, but... putting your mouth on a filly? Or a colt? It was sick, obviously, but...

What does it smell like? What does it taste like? Does it taste like pee?

I knew my penis could smell strange if I hadn't taken a bath in a couple of days, so it seemed gross, but I imagined it filling my mouth, and another thought hit me: what does the goo taste like? Thinking back, it had a distinct smell. I was horrified every time I smelled it, but... it wasn't a bad smell at all.

What if it gets in your mouth? Is it dangerous? Do mares squirt anything like geldings and stallions?

I looked between my legs, and realized I'd slipped out at some point. Now I was hard as a rock. It was bobbing and dribbling something. I figured it was the lubricant stuff I'd learned about in school, because I was pretty sure I wasn't peeing. I tapped my hoof to it and tasted. It was kind of nutty, and rather nice. It was way too far away to reach with my mouth, but I imagined what it would be like if I could...

Oh no. This is sick! I started to panic and jumped into bed. Maybe I can sleep it off, I thought. The covers came over the top of me, and I felt my penis twitching against them. Instinctively, I bucked my hips slightly and closed my eyes.

I saw Rumble.

I felt my blood go cold, but it didn't stop the erection. Rumble smiled and turned around and lifted his tail. Instead of a geld, he had a filly's parts: teats and a vulva. They glistened like they were wet, and I could see a little pink button at the bottom, and I pressed my face into it and the world exploded like a bomb the size of the Moon had gone off.

I gasped for breath, not realizing what had happened at first. I hadn't even touched it! The covers pressing back had been enough, apparently. My pelt was covered in goo, and it was slathered all across the inside of the sheets.

A deep shame overpowered me. I remembered somepony telling me that I had to fight the shame feeling, but I couldn't remember—was it Skeedaddle? I tried to fight it, but it hurt. And it felt good at the same time, which only made it hurt more. I closed my eyes and cried a few tears, then I felt my heart unclench and it wasn't so bad anymore. It felt nice, and this was normal, right?

Except the thoughts weren't normal. Not Rumble, anypony but him! But I didn't have control over my thoughts. Even my own thoughts were imprisoned by my testicles. If only I were a gelding, I'd be able to control my mind. A gelding can wait until he's ready for something like this before he does it.

"My burden," I whispered, deciding this was a penance I deserved to pay. That helped a lot. It almost felt like I'd just taken a pain pill as the pleasure continued to tickle me from within. The gross wetness made me lift up the covers, and I gritted my teeth in anger at what I'd done. Mom would find this. I grabbed some tissues and wiped up as much as I could off of my body, then the covers. More dripped out of my penis onto the floor, so I cleaned that too. Some of the tissues stuck to my penis and I had to use a hoof and spit to remove the bits before I could let it slip back in, and it still wasn't totally clean, but I'd have to exit my room to go to the bathroom so I couldn't take chances.

I left my room. Mom wasn't there, so I went into the bathroom and washed myself off more thoroughly. There was no way I'd be able to wash my sheets without her knowing, so I went into her bedroom where I found her sitting in her easy chair.

"M-mom, I, um... I think I need to wash..." I said. My voice croaked.

"It's okay, honey. I can wash your sheets," she said. "I can wash them every day until you turn seventeen if I have to, or longer if you stay with me, though hopefully by that point you'll start doing that as part of your chores."

I stood there, stunned. "How... how did you?"

She smiled and stood up. "There's nothing wrong with it, and it's natural that you'd have feelings after learning about sex."

"Geldings aren't supposed to do this," I whispered. Oh, I ached to tell her, but I couldn't. Not only for her sake, but for Thunderlane and Skeedaddle and Snips. Maybe they should be exposed. Maybe that's right. But I won't let my weakness upend their lives. Nopony else should suffer for my decisions.

Mom leaned down and hugged me. "Feather, listen to me," she said, pulling back so she could look me in the eye. I was barely able to make eye contact. "Geldings get horny and have erections and ejaculate, just not as much as stallions do."

"But what if it happens too much?" I said.

"I have a strong suspicion that... you may have a high testosterone level, even after being gelded. That's normal right after gelding, but in rare cases it can persist," she said. "It's not only your testicles that make testosterone, the rest of your body does too. If you have too much testosterone, then the doctors are required by law to lower it, by making you take pills."

For a moment, I paused in thought. What if I go to another doctor, other than Doctor Pastures? What if I tell her I have a high testosterone level? Maybe she'll give me something to quiet my testicles without knowing what I did, I reasoned. No, I can't risk it, because she'll check my geld! But maybe I can convince Doctor Pastures to lower it, even if he refuses to geld me for real...

"It may not matter, though. I won't be telling the doctors about your emissions," said Mom.

I furrowed my brow in confusion. "What? Why not?" I asked.

"Because I don't think you should have been gelded in the first place, and I don't care what the rest of society thinks," she said, the features of her face hardening. "If you want to see the doctor, you can. If not, you don't have to. At some point you'll probably get tested, and they'll make you take the drugs, but if you don't want to take them I'll help you hide that too."

I had no response. But for the first time in two weeks, I felt safe.

Breaking Down

After Mom dropped the bombshell that she'd be willing to hide me from the law, we stood there in silence for a moment, just staring at each other. Then she continued talking.

"I don't think it will matter because what you're experiencing is almost certainly a temporary burst. You should know in a few days. But I meant what I said: if you end up with a high tee level, I'll keep it a secret if that's your choice. That choice would come with a small price, however," she said, sitting down on the floor by the chair and pulling me up next to her.

"A price?" I asked, and my mind wandered to a dark place. I hope this isn't some kind of manipulative catch... I know Mom never would, but I'm still hoofshy from what I've been through.

She bit at her lip. "You wouldn't be able to tell anypony about our arrangement, and it's not just because it's illegal for you to maintain high tee."

I nodded slowly. "Right, because you're covering for me. But... you said I can go to the doctor if I want to. That would be responsible, right? Why wouldn't I make that choice, when you said it's what a good pony would do?" I asked her, and I could feel the muscles in my withers tensing. "I mean, a couple of days ago you swore to me you'd literally chop off your leg to convince me to be gelded! Were you just kidding? Were you lying to me?"

She closed her eyes and encircled me with a wing. "I wouldn't lie to you, Feather. Yes, I'd go to unreasonable lengths to convince you to do something that had a good chance to save you from a lifetime of misery. I have to imagine many mothers would do the same," she said. "However, over the weekend I've been ruminating, and I feel increasingly uncertain. Of course I want you to do what a good pony would do, even if 'good pony' is a moral oversimplification. But is accepting gelding what a good pony should do, even if it would make your life easier in some ways?"

"I think so, yeah," said Featherweight. "Gelding sucks, but I don't know if I can argue against 'fewer monsters'. Would you want to live in a world where I didn't have to be gelded, but you'd have to live with the fact that a stallion might rape me or kill me, totally at random?"

Mom froze for a moment, and I could see the color in the thin pelt beneath her eyes blanch. "Well... I don't know. I don't like thinking about that, of course. But mutilating you to offer protection for something that is unlikely to happen to you isn't an obvious choice. It depends on how much safer gelding makes us. Maybe if as many as ten percent of stallions did horrible things, and there were no warning signs for it at all, it might make sense. But even the history books, which I suspect contain more than a little exaggeration, don't make claims that striking," she said, tightening her wing around me. "If it were elective, and at age seventeen or later, I could easily support it. I mean, you certainly have the right to be gelded, if you're old enough and you want it to happen. Social pressure might be sufficient to convince most stallions to do the right thing."

If only I still had the 'right' to be gelded!

"It'd be too late by then. It might help prevent some crimes, but most of the damage would have been done already," I countered. "I don't think social pressure would convince most guys to cut off their nuts, not once enough of them have refused that they can support each other socially. And any level of forcing at that point, even if it's just for stallions who show 'warning signs' or whatever, might lead stallions to... to overthrow..."

I paused as the realization hit me. That's what we are, isn't it? It's not just about the law. We're rebels against the Crown entirely! I was starting to realize just how enormous this dark cloud was that I'd become ensnared in.

After the awkward pause, I tried to shift gears. "Um, for example, Miss Cheerilee says that a lot of rape doesn't have anything to do with sex. It's about power. It's probably about that cat-arctic stuff you were talking about, except evil."

I worried for a moment when I saw Mom close her eyes, and her eyelids twitched. "I admit she has a point. My rapist—I'm never going to call him your 'father' again, not after what you've been through—it was like he tried to inflict maximum damage, down there," she whispered. "He... it was so violent that he dislocated things. The doctors couldn't believe the pregnancy took, and they were even more shocked when it didn't miscarry within the first quadmester. But the thing that most surprised them was I didn't want to abort. After everything, it felt too much like a miracle that you'd beaten all those odds. And maybe it was selfish, but I needed something positive to come out of my horrible experience. I needed something to make that unwilling sacrifice worth it." She opened her eyes and smiled, wiping a tear away with a fetlock. "I probably should have listened to them, but I didn't, and I never could have imagined I would be able to look back on what happened and not regret it. You're worth so much more than all the pain I've had to endure, Featherweight. Maybe that's something only a mother can understand, I don't know. But I know I'm the luckiest mare in Equestria."

I smiled wanly. "Then I'm the luckiest colt, I guess, even if I don't feel that way right now. I'm glad we look so much alike, because I don't want to be reminded of..." I whispered, then my voice trailed off as I tried not to think about it. I looked over and traced her C-section scar gently with a hoof. "That's why you had to do it this way, huh?"

"Yes," she said, in a more normal speaking voice. "And I can never have another foal. It isn't medically impossible, but I probably wouldn't survive it. I doubt magic would help either. But none of this, even having lived through one of the worst-case scenarios of what can go wrong when a colt isn't gelded, convinces me that a good pony—or anypony—should have to undergo this procedure as long as the only way to do it is when they're too young to understand the consequences. Forcing every mother's colt to be mutilated against the colt's wishes just in case they turn out to be a bad pony... I don't think it's right, and I don't know if doing this to so many foals who don't deserve or need it could truly justify the lives it supposedly saves. I'm sure I'm being selfish, but I'm a mother. I feel guilty for pressuring you to accept the geld, Son. I know you're not a monster, and I know you never will be. You're my colt, and I love you."

I leaned back away from her. "Guilty? It's not your fault, it's my fault! I should have gone with you right away!" I said, with more anger in my voice than I'd intended. "I know it's a sacrifice, and maybe I'm too young to understand it, but sending me to the clinic is doing what's right for ponykind."

"You are part of ponykind, Feather! You matter, and you've done nothing to deserve 'the stallion's burden'. You didn't choose to be born a colt," she said. "Males are a very important part of our culture, and they deserve every bit as much respect and nurture as females do. But the way things are in our society, I'm not sure anypony would choose to be one."

"Choose to be a colt... is this like being trans?" I asked.

Mom paused in thought. "Not exactly. I'm talking about the benefits and drawbacks of being a filly biologically, which is separate from gender. I'm not an expert on transgender ponies, but I'm sure they have a psychological minefield to navigate, and gelding probably makes it even more complicated," she said. "If they're female, then some of them would want to be gelded anyway, but not all, and ideally it should be on their terms. If they're male, it might seem unfair that they don't need to be gelded since they were born without testicles, and it's probably the case that some would like to take more tee than a physician can legally prescribe. I'm just guessing, though. Either way, gelding is obviously a gender-relevant issue that every colt must struggle with, including those who change genders."

I kicked my legs out and leaned back against Mom, right there on the carpeted floor of her bedroom. It made me feel younger. It reminded me of back when I was warm and safe. It had been a little over a week since I'd felt safe and secure as a foal my age should, but it seemed like it'd been an eternity. I was starting to feel that comfort again, but I remained terrified it could abandon me once again at any moment.

While thinking about my position in all of this, I had a brief flashback to the doctor's office. My body jerked in response.

"Son?" said Mom, gently petting my forelock with a hoof.

I need emotional support... but what can I tell you? I have to say something, anything at all. I just have to.

"Mom... if something really bad happened to me, because of something I did wrong, would you be able to forgive me for it?" I whispered.

"That doesn't make any sense. I don't want bad things to happen to you, and you always have my forgiveness," said Mom. "Baby, what's going on?"

I gulped, and shut my eyes. "I don't want to make you upset."

"Feather, it's no burden! I need to know. I can't help you if I don't know. Don't shut me out. Please," she said, holding me tightly.

I nodded and opened my eyes. "I'm not ready to talk about it, but... the day I got gelded... stuff happened."

My mother's eyes widened and her nostrils flared, but I could tell she was holding back as best she could. "Go on, sweetie."

"It's worse than you know," I said. "That's all. It wasn't just a bad geld. Other stuff happened too, and I just... I need to know it's okay."

I felt her legs shiver for a moment as they held me, and her wings retracted. "Listen to me, Son. Everything will be okay, I promise you. I forgive you for whatever you think you did wrong. But having bad things happen to you is not okay," she whispered. "Did somepony hurt you?"

"I can't talk about it now," I said. "Please don't make me, Mom. Please."

"I don't want to pressure you, but you need to realize if there's somepony dangerous out there who could hurt other foals, you should tell me," she said, petting my head with an uncertain hoof. "Is this about that mare? That... that horrible mare who took you to Doctor Pastures?"

"Nopony else is in danger," I said. "I know for a fact that this is not a thing that can happen again. It was only me."

"Featherweight, the only way you'll feel better is if you can tell me what happened," said Mom, her voice cracking. I felt my heart sink. "Please let Mommy help you. Please. I'm so worried."

I paused in thought. "I can't do that to you, Mom. I know what you went through."

"That doesn't have anything—"

"Mom."

She stopped talking. Tears were running down my cheeks, I could feel it.

"I know what you went through," I whispered.

My Mom's forelegs began to shake as they held me. Her jaw dropped. She understood.

"Not... not the exact same thing, obviously. Mom, I'm sorry..." I turned my head to look at her face. She wasn't crying, but she was clearly shaken.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," she said. It looked like it was hard for her to form the words with her mouth, but she did so very slowly and deliberately.

"No. I didn't want you to know. I knew it would hurt you. But I wasn't strong enough to hide it," I whispered, and messily wiped my eyes and cheeks with a leg. "A few ponies know. Ponies I trust not to tell you, because I knew it would hurt. But I can't talk about the details, and it just, it hurts inside," I said, choking on my words.

Mom looked down at the floor, and her eyes moved this way and that. "I failed to protect you," she said.

"It's not your responsibility."

"It's my ONLY responsibility. I'm your mother."

"Whatever. It wasn't your fault. It was mine, because I made some mistakes—"

"Feather, listen to me very, very closely," she said, forcefully grabbing the back of my neck to force me to look her in the eyes. "Rape is never the fault of the victim. Ever. No matter what!"

"But I..."

"It's true there are choices you can make to minimize risk. Some choices in life may be wiser than others, and some choices may be very naive and even make it much more likely that you'll be hurt. But those choices are not what raped you. The fault lies with and only with the perpetrator, period," she said. Her grip on my neck was so tight it hurt, but I didn't dare say anything. "I blamed myself for what happened to me. I did it for years. You do not have my permission to do the same! I will not allow my boy to make that same, horrid mistake!"

"I..." I said, gasping for breath. I couldn't remember being legitimately afraid of my mother before. I knew she wasn't going to hurt me, but I didn't know what to do.

"I want to hear you say it, right now. You are NOT at fault for what somepony else did to you," she said. "Say it!"

"I'm not at fault!" I squealed.

"He did this to you! He did it, not you! Say it!"

There was something strange about how she said the word 'he', and it wasn't just the unprompted assumption that a male pony had assaulted me. "He... I mean, they... they did it to me!" I said. "Please, Mommy..."

"They?" she whispered, but her grip did not weaken. I was beginning to see stars, and thought I might pass out.

"You're hurting me... let go!" I whined.

She gasped and released me, then pulled me in tight with her forelegs and held me firm, sobbing helplessly on my shoulder.

I wasn't crying anymore, but I rocked against her in my legs, trying to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry! I never wanted to tell you. I shouldn't have..."

"That... that is not the problem. You're not at fault for this, Son, please... please don't make my mistake, I'm begging you..." she whispered.

And of course, that's exactly when somepony knocked on the door. We both froze like a dumb beast caught in the headlights of the Friendship Express. Several seconds passed and the knock returned, more insistently this time.

"I'll get it," she murmured, and tried to stand. The expression in Mom's eyes was vacant, like a zombie, and she looked like she'd just stepped out of Tartarus.

"No. I will," I said, standing up. "I'll be right back." I wiped my eyes, trotted to the front door, and opened it. Skeedaddle and Rumble were standing there, and they looked horrified.

I blinked and sniffed, then it registered. "Oh. That bad, I guess?" I asked.

"Dammit! I'm going to destroy whoever did this to you during your geld," said Rumble, his nostrils flaring and one forehoof scraping against our porch as if preparing to charge. "It was the geld doctor, wasn't it? No, I'm sorry, I'm not going to push you... but if you can't tell me, I'll just go beat them all up."

I saw Skeedaddle's eyes widen.

"No! Rumble... Okay, look. Mom and I were talking about... bad things that happened to us both," I said, and I saw Skee wince. "Just general stuff, that's all, but the kinda stuff you don't wanna remember. Y-you, you know what I mean, right?" I hoped 'general stuff' was enough to send the message. Skeedaddle seemed to relax a little, so I was fairly sure it worked.

"Oh no. Look, Feather... if you want to push off your part of the sleepover thing tonight, that's fine," said Rumble. "I, I was just going to ask if you wanted Skee to come too, but—"

"It's okay, really," I interrupted, mopping my eyes again. "Ugh, I must look like a total mess. Look, I can ask Mom, but I think it'll be okay for tonight. I know she wants me to socialize, and I want that too. This thing right now... it's just something that had to happen. I mean, it's not okay at the moment, but if you come back in an hour, it might be better, or at least... not this bad. I can probably tell you then."

They both nodded slowly.

"Take good care of her," said Skeedaddle.

"And yourself," said Rumble.

I nodded back and smiled. "Thanks guys," I said, then I closed the door and returned to Mom.

She was wiping her face with tissues, and seemed more... 'there', which relieved me.

"Thank you, Feather," she said, then grimaced. "I... I heard Rumble. He said they did it to you during your geld. Sweetie, if the doctors did something bad to you, it could happen to another colt too. Did the doctor do... something else to you?"

I think she could tell from the look on my face, but I had to bluff.

"The doctor didn't mean to hurt me. This isn't just about the geld, it's... it's more than that. I didn't tell Rumble the details, so he's guessing," I said, making sure all three of those were technically true (as far as I knew the truth, anyway). "Look, Mom, please don't talk to them about this! Skee knows too. I know you're mad about me being hurt, but you have to believe me when I say this was a one-time thing that can't happen to anypony else, and none of my friends know any more than you do."

Mom clenched her jaw momentarily, then nodded. "Of course I won't talk to your friends about this, sweetie. It's not their business, and besides, I only want to hear the truth from you. Trying to figure out something personal that you don't want to tell me by gossiping with your friends is not the right way to be a parent."

"Maybe the sleepover is a bad idea. I don't want you to have to face anypony tonight," I said, lowering my head.

"No, honey. I think the sleepover will be good for you, and I should be fine in an hour," she said. "I wish you would open up to me a little more, but I understand it will take time... and even though I'm your mother, and I'm always on your side, I admit I'm not the best pony to share this with right now."

"I know. I don't want to talk about the details, and that hurts you," I said, gritting my teeth, "but if I do, it will hurt you more."

Mom shook her head. "That's not what I mean. Feather, I am... your mother is not the right pony to talk to you about this."

"But... why?" My confusion must have been apparent, judging by how she looked at me.

Mom reached out her hoof, and I took it in mine. "Seeing you hurt is bringing back memories of the mistakes I made, and as much as I want to help you, I don't want to make your suffering about me," she explained.

"Oh. Yeah, I get it. You kinda scared me a little before, but I knew where it came from," I said, immediately wishing I hadn't.

It didn't faze her, though. "Yes, exactly. You need to talk to somepony you can trust to share your experiences with, but it needs to be somepony who isn't caught up in anything like... whatever this is. Maybe it was even wrong for me to assume you were talking about rape."

"It's... very close," I said, and she grimaced. "But there's nopony else I can talk to, other than Skee. He had, um, a hard geld too, but nothing like what I went through. I can't trust an adult with this stuff. It would hurt you, and everypony else either wouldn't understand, or else they... well, they're not far enough away from it to think straight, sorta."

She shook her head. "I mean a therapist, Feather."

"No. I can't trust a therapist, Mom."

She seemed surprised. "Why not? I realize it may take time before you're comfortable talking about it..."

I swallowed hard. "Because it's related to illegal stuff, like... well, just like hiding my high tee thing. It's not that exactly, but it's a good example. Remember how you said I couldn't tell anypony about that? Even therapists have to report certain stuff, like if you have specific plans to kill somepony else. Scootaloo told me that. She gets therapy for stuff—don't share that though."

Mom nodded. "Therapy shouldn't be shameful, but her feelings are nopony's business but hers. I'm sure you don't have plans to kill anypony, but I don't blame you for being paranoid. I know you're worried about protecting me," she said. "You might not have to worry, though. The kind of therapist I'm thinking of is not exactly a licensed psychotherapist."

"Not licensed? What does that mean?" Despite the emotions pulling my brain in seven different directions, curiosity was getting the better of me.

"This person won't report or share anything you tell them, period. If you were planning to kill or rape, they'd do their best to talk you out of it and recommend additional steps to keep it from happening, but I don't think even then that they would follow duty to warn," she said. "If you see them, even the fact that you're seeing them at all is a closely-guarded secret."

My brow knit tightly. "That's... irresponsible, isn't it? And illegal?"

My mother shrugged. "Maybe, and yes. Not illegal for their clients, but illegal for them. I think they understand that when clients vent, they don't necessarily mean everything they say or fantasize about, and they know how important it is for ponies who might not be the best ponies out there—not you or I, necessarily—to be able to talk about things without any fear of judgment or reprisal, or even legal jeopardy," she said. "If you told them that you had high testosterone—which we still don't know, of course—or even if you told them that I was helping you hide that from society, they would never utter a word to anypony. I'm absolutely certain of that. I would even encourage you to tell her, despite what I said earlier about the necessity of it being a secret."

"What? No way! I wouldn't tell her that," I said, rolling my eyes. "I mean, how can you know?"

"Because, Feather... they've been my therapist for twelve years," said Mom, with a slight smile.

I squinted for a moment, then blinked the wetness from my eyes. "Mom, I didn't know you had a therapist."

"Exactly," she said.

It took a moment for the depth of this fact to register. "Wow. Well, I still couldn't trust her—or him, or whoever—with stuff I can't even tell you," I said. "I believe you, but... it would be hard."

"It's okay. You don't need to share details, but even then I know this person will probably be able to help you," she insisted. "And when you meet them, I'm sure you'll understand why I trust them."

I sighed deeply. "I guess if you really think it would help. Don't tell any of my friends, though, okay?"

Mom pulled her lips inward before speaking. "Of course not. But you shouldn't tell your friends about them, either. I hate all these secrets, sweetie, but there's a reason they are unlicensed, and the fact that they do this service is not common knowledge. Most of their clients have no idea who they are."

I thought about asking the identity of this mysterious pony—who for all I knew, wasn't even a pony—but I could tell Mom was holding back intentionally. Instead, a nervous chuckle passed my muzzle. "Eh, what's one more secret at this point?" I said.

Despite the joking attitude, I was desperately hoping this particular secret wouldn't be the last strand of hay to fit on my saddle. My metaphorical spine was already buckling.

Skeedaddle and Rumble showed up a little over an hour later, and Mom and I were pretty cleaned up by then. Mom had already approved the sleepover, including with Skee as an addition.

"Hay guys," I said, answering the door again.

"You look better. Are you guys gonna be okay?" asked Rumble.

I nodded. "We're fine. You can both stay the night, too. Tomorrow's a school day, though, so you should bring your saddlebags and stuff, assuming your parents agree and everything."

"It's still just me and Thunder at home tonight, so I'm obviously in," said Rumble.

"I'm good," said Skeedaddle. "Dad needed convincing, and Mom turned on the charm. The 'yoozh'."

I smiled weakly. "Great to hear. Do you want to come in now?"

"Um, I thought I'd give you and Skeedaddle some time to talk, and I'd come by around dinnertime, maybe at five," said Rumble, nervously rubbing one leg with the other. "I mean, Skee thought, y'know, talking... it might be something you'd want to do. I dunno."

"Yeah, that's probably good, but it won't take that long," I said. "Maybe you can come back at four instead?"

"Maybe four-thirty, just to be safe?" added Skeedaddle. Apparently, he had more to share than I expected.

I nodded. "Sure, or that. I'm glad you two had time to get to know each other. Er, I assume you did, at least."

Rumble grinned. "Yeah, Skee here is pretty cool," he said, swinging a leg around him. "Until today I never knew he could like, talk and stuff."

"Ah, I'm only quiet until I get to know you," he said, but I could see the blush.

How can he be so cute, and so lewd when it comes to sex, yet seem so shy?

"Alright guys. Catch you in an hour or so," said Rumble, and he took off, straight up.

"C'mon in," I said, and Skeedaddle followed me to my room. As we passed Mom's room, I noticed the door was shut. She clearly needed some time to herself.

Skee closed the door behind us. "So, what's been going on? Sorry if I seem a little nervous, but... everything that's been happening to you has kind of sucked, and we're all a little worried about what's going to drop next. Rumble got some info out of you, which is fine, but..." he said, then whispered, "if he finds out Doctor Pastures hurt you the way he did, all Tartarus will break loose. You understand?"

I nodded, somehow suppressing a surge of anger within my barrel. "I'm not telling anypony nothing. Mom knows I was basically raped, though."

Skeedaddle double-facehoofed, sitting on the floor. "Horseshit," he whispered.

"Look, there was no way I could hide this from her! She could see my trauma, Skee. She knew something really bad happened," I said. "She isn't demanding details from me, she isn't forcing me to submit to a mind scan, she isn't calling Foal Protective Services, and she isn't calling a Town Council meeting. This is literally the best-case scenario. That's how bad things suck right now."

"Ugh. I don't know what we're going to do about her," whispered Skeedaddle.

I thought carefully for a moment. "She doesn't like gelding."

"What? You mean... your mom...?"

"Yes, the one who was raped by a bucking stallion. She doesn't think gelding is right. She's even angry about it," I whispered. "She actually swore to me that if I end up with high test, um, testosterone, she'd help me hide it from the doctors so I don't have to take the pills if I don't want to. She's serious. Mom has never lied to me and she has no reason to now."

Skeedaddle slumped forward, exhaling. "This... this is very good news! Oh, thank goodness. There might be a way out of this mess."

"Wait. You mean you're going to tell her?" I asked. I wasn't sure if I should feel relieved, or horrified that I may have gotten my own mother mixed up in this nightmare.

"No, not yet. But she's at least on our side, more or less. Don't tell her you're a ridgling, obviously, but I'll see if the Council wants to test the waters with her," he said. "My mom or Thunderlane will ask them, I mean. I still don't know who they all are."

I shook my head. "I don't think that's gonna be an option, Skee. Rumble might punch Doctor Pastures where his nuts are missing, but my mom will straight up murder him. That isn't even a joke," I said. "Seriously. He'll end up as a red stain smashed beneath her hooves. I don't even care that he's an earth pony and she's a pegasus, she'll find a way to do it. I can totally see her stealing one of Zecora's potions, turning into an earth pony, taking a bunch of tee herself, and crushing his muzzle and cranium into a pulp beneath her bloody hooves."

Skeedaddle leaned back away from me, grimacing. "Sheesh, okay! I didn't need the visuals," he said.

"Sorry. It was actually kind of, uh, cat-arctic."

"Huh? Oh, cathartic. Look, I'm not taking his side, but it's very hard to believe he meant to hurt you, Feather," said Skee.

"He didn't. He just didn't care enough to not hurt me," I said.

Skeedaddle sighed. "Anyway, you don't really know what she'll do when she finds out. After some time, once she learns what's up, she probably won't forgive him, but she'll understand he didn't mean it. The important thing is she'll leave him alone because she'll be trapped in MAD just like the rest of us."

"Mad?"

"Em-ay-dee: mutually assured destruction. Nopony can do anything to anypony else because we're all in the conspiracy together."

"Right. The reason they raped me," I whispered.

Skee closed his eyes tightly. He looked very tired. "I hate this, Feather. I really, really do. If there's something I can do to help you, let me know. I'm trying my best, but I can't un-rape you."

"It's okay," I said, frowning. "It's not your fault. I'm starting to deal with what happened, and I'm not going to be fun to be around because you're one of few ponies I can actually talk to. I'm sorry about that, but I'm starting to realize I have the right to be angry about what happened, so that's what I'm feeling."

Then I wondered if I should tell him about the therapist. I don't want him to stop me from going to see her, because I think Mom was right. I do need this. Besides, I'm not going to tell her anything secret, even if she is a vault. Since there was no chance I'd break "the code" with her, I decided he didn't need to know.

"Feather? You still with me?" asked Skee. Apparently I'd spaced out for a moment.

"Yeah, sorry," I said. "Just... y'know."

A look of apprehension crossed his muzzle. "Look, this might be the worst thing to tell a rape victim—"

"Oh colt," I mumbled. "Not the best opening to your sentence."

He rolled his eyes. "I know. I just think... it may be helpful to try to put it in perspective. I believe what you went through was horrible and wrong, but it was a... botched medical procedure, and they weren't trying to hurt you," he said, almost wincing with the word 'botched'. "They weren't on a power trip. They weren't doing it for self-gratification. They weren't trying to cause you trauma. They thought they were helping you. It was horrible, but it wasn't exactly the same thing."

"You mean I shouldn't be this upset," I said, shutting my eyes tight.

"No, Feather, you should! You have every right to be upset, and hurt, and victimized," he continued. "I just mean you're not obligated to feel like a victim forever. I'm not pretending being a victim is a choice, okay? I'm just saying it's possible you'll be able to rise above this at some point, and no longer feel like you've been permanently damaged by a single, albeit seriously messed up medical mistake."

"I'm sure people told my mom the same thing," I said, shrugging.

Skee frowned. "Feather—please don't hate me for this because I wasn't there for either horrid event, so I don't know the answer—but do you think what you went through is comparable to what your mom went through?"

I was pretty pissed, and I'm sure it showed, because Skee looked super nervous. But I listened to the idea, then I stopped for a moment to think about it.

Should I really be feeling this much trauma? What if what I'm experiencing is partly self-imposed? Maybe I don't have to suffer as much as I've been trying to suffer... Wait. I think I've been trying to suffer. Crap. I don't want to think about this at all right now.

"I... I dunno," I admitted. "I'm afraid to say yes, because that, um, it's not fair to what she went through..."

"You don't want to minimize her suffering, right."

"Minimize, that's a good word for it. But I'm also afraid to say no, because that suggests Mom could suffer less too, if she were 'tougher' about it." I think tears were starting to form. "I don't know anypony tougher than my mom, Skee."

"I'm sorry for bringing it up, guy. I just don't want to see you suffer all the time... partly because I feel guilty for what happened," he said, placing a hoof gently on my shoulder. "We don't need to talk about it now. I just wanted to plant that seed."

I cocked my head. "What seed?"

"The idea that it's okay not to feel terrible all the time. This is something you may be able to move past someday," he said. "I say that to empower you, not to discount your trauma."

"I guess that's a good idea. I appreciate that," I said. "Honestly, I'm feeling pretty okay at the moment, at least compared to the past couple of days. The more I realize that they didn't want to hurt me, the less it stings—not that that absolves them of anything they did to me, but it still means something. I'll try to keep my mind off it for now."

Skeedaddle nodded, then stood up and took a seat on my bed. His eyes widened before I realized what he'd just done. "Whoa!" he said, turning to look at my semen splattered all over the covers. He looked back at me with a grin. "Nice load!"

I'm sure the horror was clear on my face. "Oh, gross, I... Mom must not have handled it because she was dealing with... with the stuff we talked about," I said. "Skee, don't sit on that."

He smiled and blushed. "Why not? I kinda like it. Your emission smells nice, too."

"Eww. Skeedaddle, why are you so gross? Is it the balls?" I whispered, opting to remain seated on the floor.

"I dunno, maybe," he said, and shrugged, as his penis dropped out and firmed up right there on the bed, bobbing in the air in front of me. His voice fell to a whisper and he said, "I just like sex a lot. It feels amazing, yeah, but it's much, much more than just the euphoria! It's inspiring to your imagination. You can make yourself find joy in weird ideas and places you never could have dreamed. Like, I keep collecting new kinks and perversions, and it's so much fun! And romance is even better, because it helps you feel closer to somepony. I don't think there's any way to be closer... it really is like two ponies becoming one together, both in body and soul. Hope that sentiment isn't too mushy."

"I kind of like the mushy stuff. It's the gross things that weird me out," I said. "Skee, I don't get how you're so shy all the time, but you can just, sit in my gross emission and talk about sex with your friends and belly-slapping off and stuff, like it's the most normal thing in the world."

He smiled warmly. "Dude. It is the most normal thing in the world! Being a stallion is the best, and being a mare is great too. Mares get turned on differently from stallions, but you can make them sing like a canary if you know how," he said. "Geldings get the short end of the stick. They're like mares with the sex drive, but their parts barely work because they've been mutilated, and they have even more problems with stimulation."

His penis was sticking up at an angle now, and the tip glistened like the oily stuff was coming out. "Okay, wait a minute. Mom could walk in at any time. My door doesn't have a lock," I told him, pointing gingerly at his thing.

"Have you asked her for one? I'll bet she'd agree to it," he said, falling back down onto all fours. His erection would be less obvious to Mom from here, but with me seated on the floor, now it was practically right in my face. I was certain he'd planned this. I could see it pulse. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it.

It's beautiful. It's not enormous like Thunder's, but it's bigger than mine. I think I can even smell it, which is so gross, except there's something comfortingly familiar about the odor? Huh. I'll bet it's still small enough I could stuff the whole thing in my muzzle, if I were weird like that... or I could even fit it up my... my...

"Psst, feather," Skee said, snapping me out of my reverie. He was smiling gently down at me. His cock slapped once against his belly, clearly by command. It made an oddly satisfying spanky sound.

I nearly jumped out of my pelt. "W-what?"

"You're out too! Might want to stand up," he said, grinning. "Maybe we should head to the bathroom to, y'know, handle our mutual problem before Rumble gets here."

I looked down and saw I was erect. "This is impossible! I just... I literally just did that awful thing," I said, pointing at the bed as I stood up.

"You're young and new to hormones, guy. It's normal. It'll take a while for you to get control over it, but you have to practice or it's always going to be controlling you," he said. "Plus, you like what you see under my barrel, right? It's okay. Stallions are beautiful. It's good to be able to enjoy it."

I'm sure I was blushing. "Nuts! I need to do my sheets before Rumble gets here."

"We've got like, an hour before he gets back. Let me help you with that first, please? I promise you won't be sorry," said Skee. He had the most gentle smile on his face I've ever seen on a colt, and it was doing something to me. I couldn't make myself resheathe.

Why does he have to be so damn cute? Is this what fillies feel when they look at a colt? Am I turning into a filly?

I shook off the strange feeling. "No, we can't. There's nowhere safe, and I'm not interested anyway because it's gross."

"We could go in the bathroom, or you could ask your mom for some privacy," he replied. "Go ask her. At least have her take care of the sheets."

"Skee, I just did that thing on the bed. If I do it with you, that won't help either!"

He grinned. "Oh, it will, because it will be even better."

Bleak Friday

My father was a stallion and a criminal... but I repeat myself.

My friend Rumble and I made a pact years ago to never become geldings. It's not because we wanted to grow into stallions, of course. We just wanted to stay colts forever. We still had visions of the future where we were successful adults—Rumble wanted to be a Wonderbolt like his brother, and I wanted to be a journalist—but we didn't think too deeply into the fact that achieving our dreams would require growing up at some point.

In retrospect, I probably meant the vow more than Rumble did. Nopony likes the idea of losing part of your body, even when it's clearly for the best, but I'm pretty sure it bothered me more than most colts. It wasn't the medical aspect of it, though. That scares a lot of kids even though it doesn't hurt much. It was the idea of how it changes who you are as a pony. To this day, I vividly remember overhearing Snips's mother shortly after his gelding. "It's amazing," she said. "He's so well-mannered now."

Well-mannered. When I heard that phrase, it felt like somepony kicking me right between the legs. I liked Snips the way he was! He had a fun personality before the operation, and afterwards... it was almost like the doctor had removed a part of his brain. I know when ponies talk about stallions thinking with their balls they don't mean literally, but it seemed like fixing him had altered something fundamental about who he was as a colt. After he became a gelding, he sat still in class, he lost interest in hoofball (though to be fair, he'd always been awful at it), and he started talking to fillies. He was growing up at a lightning clip. It terrified me. (Knowing what I know now, my concerns about Snips were doubly ironic—but these were my thoughts at the time.)

What does it feel like to be well-mannered, I wondered? Is it like being a girl? Since every colt becomes a gelding, it's impossible to say how much of the change is from the geld and how much is just normal maturation. I knew being gelded didn't turn you into a filly, but it seemed to make you act more like one. Colts would usually become more obedient and more eager to please. Unlike Snips, I was already obedient, so what would it do to me? Would I stop playing in mud puddles for fun? Would I be a new pony entirely?

For the longest time I just pretended it would never happen. I wish it could have gone on like that forever, but everypony has to grow up someday. The entire world changed for me one fateful Friday morning.

I woke up feeling a little groggy. I distinctly remember how strange I felt: my skin was too sensitive, like it gets sometimes when you have to take Foal's Tylenol. When I tossed off the covers, I saw a wet spot on my bedding. I also noticed how my penis had slipped out of its sheath and the tip was a little sticky to the touch. For a moment I thought I'd peed the bed, but then I remembered my studies. The shock of realizing what I was seeing is why they go over it in class a dozen times.

I was finally an adult.

There was a knock on my door, and I immediately panicked. I threw the covers back over me, wincing at the icky wetness now resting against my belly.

"Featherweight, it's time to get up," my mother called through the door.

My mind raced to find a solution. I wasn't ready for this! Always tell your parents, that was the rule. Don't hesitate. Tell them right away. I'd answered it on tests, but now I knew I hadn't meant it. If I told Mom, I'd be out of school for the day and headed right to the doctor to get fixed. But if I didn't tell her, she'd find the mess anyways. I already had my cutie mark, so she undoubtedly checked my sheets every day just to be on the safe side.

I cursed myself for feeling so unprepared. I always knew this would happen one day, and I just kept pretending it never would. Maybe I could get fixed tomorrow instead, or maybe next week, but I couldn't face it today. It had all happened too suddenly. I'd only woken up moments ago, and the thought of being at the doctor and having that part of my anatomy removed forever was too much. I simply wasn't ready to grow up. So, I improvised.

"I'm sick," I said, then coughed a few times.

Mom opened the door. "I'll get the thermometer," she said, and I bit down on my tongue, cursing myself again. I'd played this game too many times over the past year, and this time my balls were literally on the line.

She hoofed me the thermometer, which I had no choice but to put in my mouth. But then she turned to look out of the window for a moment, and I quickly removed it with one hoof and rubbed it vigorously in the cleft of my frog. Just as she turned back around, I pretended to pull it out of my mouth.

"Hmm. 102 is only a little elevated for a young pony..." she said. I pouted and sniffled, and her face softened. Fortunately, I was old enough to look after myself. "Alright then. I need to be at work soon. Stay in the house, okay?"

"Sure thing Mom," I said, smiling a little (but not too much!) and faking another cough. She narrowed her eyes and left my room, shutting the door behind her.

I breathed a deep sigh of relief, but my heart was pounding like a cloudhammer. I was going to lose my gonads, that much was certain. It was only a matter of time. I needed to make peace with that unalterable fact, but I was still in shock. I didn't move a muscle from where I lay until Mom finally left the house. The entire time I rested there I could feel that shameful wetness pressing on my flank, the foul sensation accusing me of being a perverted stallion just like my father.

Uncertain of what else to do, I decided to buy myself more time. I got out of bed and pulled out the vile sheets. I'd have to scrub the evidence away and hang the linens to dry before she returned, so there was no time to waste. I set to work, like so many nervous colts before me who'd tried in vain to hide this from their parents.

There wasn't much of a mess, but I despised cleaning it. The sticky fluid had come out of my traitorous body without so much as a polite request. The worst part was cleaning the residue from my penis, even though it only took a few seconds. I felt revulsion toward the organ, almost as though I blamed my penis more than I blamed my balls. I knew geldings still used their penises for pleasure, to a lesser extent than stallions of course, but I found myself thinking the doctors might as well take that from me too. Masturbating was even more gross than being gelded.

I had a lot of time to think that day. As I cleaned up after myself, I kept ruminating on what my life would be like once I'd been fixed. Celestia, what would Rumble think of me? Would he still want to be my friend? He'd have to, I supposed—he still idolized his brother, and Thunderlane was a gelding just like every other law-abiding adult male in Equestria (well, male equines, at least).

While the sheets were hanging, I decided to do something that felt foalish at the time. I wanted to get to know my balls while they were still a part of my body. So I played around with them. Not for pleasure, of course—I was filled with too much shame for that. I just wanted to examine them: to know how they felt, and how they looked, and what they could do. I rolled them around and squeezed them and pushed them up into my body. I tried to memorize every little feature. There was something beautiful about how they looked, round and full and hanging there between my hind legs, even though they were much smaller than they'd be on a grown stallion—an impossible future. This was something I might never get to see again, and I wanted to remember everything about them.

Fortunately I saw Mom through the window, walking toward the house. She'd come back home early for lunch! I rushed to take the sheets down and galloped into my room with them, shutting the door behind me. I barely had time to messily make my bed. I jumped under the covers just as she knocked on my door.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she called, then opened the door.

"Yeah, I'm feeling a little bit better," I said, which wasn't entirely true. Now that the reality had time to sink in, I was more nervous than ever. I realized if only I'd had the guts to tell her this morning, I'd have been fixed by now and all this could have been behind me. Now it was just a matter of how long I could hide it.

Mom lifted the covers and her pastern brushed against the wet spot I'd washed clean, which hadn't completely dried.

"Oh, I spilled some soup," I said, and faked a cough. "I washed it out though."

The sad look in her eyes told me everything: she knew. I had only one gambit remaining, and it was a direct, all-out lie.

"I can tell what you're thinking, Mom, but I didn't just... grow up," I said. "I'd tell you, I promise. If you don't believe me we can just go to the doctor and do it now, though."

Mom exhaled slowly. "No, we shouldn't go before you're ready," she said. "Don't worry, Featherweight. It'll happen soon enough. I came home to eat with you but I guess you've already eaten, so I'll just make myself a sandwich."

"Yeah, I'm full. Thanks," I said, and mock-sniffled.

I spent the rest of the day in bed, hungry and horrified.

That evening I joined Mom for dinner and feigned feeling a little better. It wasn't hard to pretend to be ill anymore—I legitimately felt that way inside. All I could think about was the impending loss of my balls and how powerless I was to prevent it from happening. I knew from school that I'd probably have another wet dream tonight, and Mom would be home over the weekend. I'd never lied like this to Mom before, and it was all for naught. It had bought me a day's reprieve, and what did that extra day even matter? It wasn't a fun day. Today had been the worst day of my life.

As I lay in bed that evening, my mind buzzed. There had to be a way to fight my biology without sacrificing that same biology, but how? In desperation, I formulated a plan.

First, I plucked a primary feather. If you're not a pegasus pony or a griffin or hippogriff, you might not grasp the full weight of that statement. Primary feathers don't fall out often, and pulling one that isn't loose hurts like Tartarus. It was all I could do to keep from crying out when I finally managed to yank it free.

I slipped the feather into my sheath, up under the base of my penis, and taped it to my belly. It was really uncomfortable. The idea was that my penis would need to swell up in order to have an emission, and this would cause the quill to poke it and wake me up.

The plan worked, but it wasn't much better than staying awake all night. It took me an hour to fall asleep, and I woke up in pain at least five times.

The weekend passed slowly for me. I stayed inside Saturday on the pretext of being ill, and I played with my balls again that day. I thought maybe Saturday night would be less awful, but it was even worse and I hardly got any sleep. On Sunday I continued to play sick, but not because I had to convince Mom—I was just too depressed to face the world. I didn't even want to look at my balls that day. I was surprised Rumble didn't stop by to say 'hi' over the weekend, but it was just as well. I wasn't in the mood to socialize, not even with my best friend.

Sunday night wasn't as painful. I only woke up twice, according to my notes. It took longer to get to sleep, though. I couldn't imagine doing this for the rest of my youth, and I could never run away from home like my father did. Even if I wanted to run away, I'd never be able to get away with it. Ponyville's small, but it isn't a backwater like the swamps. Besides, I wasn't at all like my father, that much I knew. I'd have to give in eventually. I'd let them geld me before the diseased organs could poison my brain. But that would probably take months, I figured.

I just needed a few more days to come to terms with things, I told myself. That's all.

The Fight

I had another painful night, but at least the quill trick was working. I woke up wondering why I was still trying to hide the fact I'd grown up. Frustrating my intended plan, the thought of being gelded wasn't getting any easier to stomach. If anything, I was more nervous about it after hearing from Rumble.

That day at school I noticed some of the other colts whispering to each other during class. Cheerilee had to stop class twice to tell them to wait until recess to talk. I didn't think much of it at the time.

During recess, Rumble, Snips, and Snails were gathered over in the corner of the classroom where Cheerilee kept a bunch of old dresses for the fillies to play dress-up with.

"Quick, he's coming," I heard Snips whisper. They all quickly threw on dresses.

"Guys...? What the hay are you doing?" I asked. Seeing Rumble giggling in a gingham dress was highly unnerving.

"I'm a gelding now, Featherweight!" said Rumble, in a high-pitched falsetto. "I want to wear dresses and play with dolls!"

"Yeah, wrestling and playing tag are boring. Let's play house instead!" lilted Snips, batting his eyes.

"Uh, don't worry, you'll get to join us soon," said Snails. He had on a goofy grin. "Oh, we can have a tea party!"

Rumble narrowed his eyes and grinned. "Hay, let's put a dress on him now so he can see what it feels like!" he said. He grabbed a dress in one hoof.

"Th-this isn't funny!" I said, backing up a step and stomping the floor with a hoof. "Stop messing with me!"

"Ah, we're sorry," said Snails, frowning. "We were just playing with you!"

"Yeah. I mean, you gotta be a gelding eventually. It's not so bad," said Snips.

I stared down at the floor. "I'm not going to be a gelding," I said, very softly.

"Oh wow. He really doesn't want to be a gelding!" said Snails.

"Guys, relax. Featherweight's just kidding," said Rumble, dropping the dress on the floor. "I mean, he doesn't want to end up like his dad."

My eyes widened and I looked Rumble right in the eye. I could tell by his face he knew he'd said something really wrong. He opened his mouth to apologize, but only a squeak came out.

And then, something inside me snapped. I felt an anger that overwhelmed all of my senses, and my body began to shake.

"DON'T YOU TALK ABOUT MY FATHER!" I screamed, and I punched him hard in the face.

Rumble fell back into the pile of clothes and looked up at me with a bruised cheek, totally shocked. Then he began to bawl like a baby.

I was instantly horrified by what I'd done. I'd just injured my best friend, and it had only taken a split-second of anger to do it! I turned and galloped out of the schoolhouse, and I didn't stop running until I reached home.

Mom was outside in the garden when I ran past her into the house.

"Feather?" she called, and followed me inside. "What's wrong?" When she found me, I was lying on my bed crying.

"I... I don't want to talk about it," I sobbed.

"You're supposed to be at school," she said, but I didn't respond. Mom sat patiently on the bed next to me and gently petted my mane.

I finally looked up to her, sniffling. "Tell me about my father?" I asked. (I will never, ever call him 'Dad'.)

Mom's eyes softened. "Your father... what do you want to know?" She handed me some tissues.

"All the stuff you never told me, I guess," I said, taking the tissues and blowing my nose.

"Other than his name and cutie mark, I've told you all I know," she said, sighing. "I know very little about who he was, and most of that came from the trial. I haven't hidden anything else from you."

I nodded. "Just... tell me again?"

She continued to pet my mane. "Okay, sweetie. As you know, your father was a poor earth pony from the Hayseed Swamps. His parents homeschooled him and didn't geld him right away when he had his emission. Before they had a chance to, he ran away from home," she said. "He came into Ponyville as a drifter. He wore pants all the time, and he was an adult by then so he was able to get away with it... I had no clue he was secretly a stallion. I took pity on him and paid him to do some chores around the house, and in repayment for my kindness he raped me." Mom said it in a matter-of-fact voice, as though it wasn't the most horrible thing you could imagine doing to a mare.

"Just... Why did he do it?" I asked.

"Oh Feather, I wish I knew. That was the main reason I attended the trial, apart from giving testimony," she said. "The trial was short, but sensationalized by the media. Rape is very rare, as you know. He admitted to everything but refused to plead guilty for some unknown reason."

"So what happened after the trial?"

"Well, they castrated him, naturally. The Princess insisted on waiting until the conclusion of the trial to do it, but she didn't explain her reasoning. I suspect it was to make it seem more like a punishment than a treatment, barbaric though that sounds."

"Castrated?"

"It means gelded," explained Mom. "It's... more general. Castration just means removal of the testicles. Gelding implies a more... intentional process, I suppose. More civilized."

I nodded and sniffled, drying my eyes.

"It didn't help anything, of course. He'd been a stallion for a decade by that point, so the hormonal damage to his brain was permanent. He still lives in a mental institution in Canterlot," she said. "Featherweight, I've never told you his name or mark because I don't want you to think you're obligated to be his son. He's never been a father to you, and the fact that you're related to him doesn't mean you're anything like him as a pony."

"I know. Even if I turned into a stallion I could never hurt a mare the way he hurt you," I said, and shuddered. "Do... do you hate him?"

Mom looked wistful. "Well... I did for a time, but now I just pity him. He may never grasp true friendship, which is a terrible fate for anypony. But of course I know you're different," she said. I could tell by the look on her face she was deciding whether or not to tell me something delicate. "Being raped... it hurt a little, but I was in shock through most of it, so it didn't hurt very badly until afterwards. But the real suffering was mental, not physical. I was afraid of geldings for years afterwards. When I discovered I was pregnant, I was even afraid you would be a colt."

I opened my mouth but I couldn't speak. I felt sick in the pit of my stomach.

"It's okay, sweetie. I'm very glad you're a colt," said Mom, with a gentle smile. "I didn't know what a blessing having a colt would be. I was just hurt and confused. I know you're not anything like your father. It wasn't just his testicles that raped me."

"Well, right, his penis," I said, rolling my eyes.

"No. I mean he was a bad pony, and his testicles weren't the only reason why. Back when stallions existed, most of them weren't bad ponies like your father."

"But if it's not just that he was a stallion for a while, then what else went wrong with him?" I asked

Mom shook her head. "I can't rightfully say. Maybe how he was raised, he didn't have enough friends? I don't know how his parents treated him, maybe they were too harsh. It could really be anything. Sometimes we don't know why true friendship won't touch a pony," she said. "It's out of our hooves, though."

"I still can't believe you don't hate him anymore. I hate him," I said, and I gritted my teeth until my jaw began to ache.

Mom kissed my forehead and smiled. "Well, without him, I wouldn't have you... and you're the best thing that ever happened to me, Featherweight. What he did was wrong, but I'm very happy things turned out the way they did," she said, and smiled down at me. "Now, sweetie, can you tell me what happened at school today?"

"I... I hit Rumble," I said, and her smile faded.

"I see. Why did you hit your friend?"

"He said something. About my father," I said. "It wasn't really bad or anything, it just... it made me so angry. I'm already sorry I did it. Gosh, I was sorry right after I did it."

Mom nodded solemnly. "I'm glad to hear that, but I'm not the one you need to apologize to," she said.

"I know! I just... I can't face him right now." My ears lay back against my mane. "You're mad at me, right?"

"Well... What did he say, exactly?"

"Just that I wouldn't want to turn out like him. It's true, though. I don't," I said.

My mother smiled wanly. "I don't think I ever told you this, but I once hit somepony in anger," she revealed.

"You did?" I asked, eyes wide.

She nodded. "Strawberry Sunrise. It was shortly after I gave birth to you. I overheard her call you a 'rape-baby' and she made an unflattering comparison to your father," she said, and stood up, cocking a rear leg. "I kicked her in the stomach so hard she vomited. We were both lucky I didn't crack her ribs."

"Holy horsefeathers!" I said, then blushed from the cuss. Mom didn't react. "S-sorry. Didn't you get in trouble?"

"A little, but there were witnesses to what she'd said, and they were sympathetic given what I'd been through. Friends of mine helped pay her medical expenses, and that settled the affair. It took a few years before Strawberry and I finally apologized to each other, though."

"I don't want to wait years to apologize to Rumble. What he said wasn't even that bad, and I feel terrible now," I said.

"We'll go see him after school," said Mom. "And I'll need to speak with your teacher about this as well."

It turns out I didn't have to wait. A few minutes later, there came a knock on the front door. Mom opened the door, but I hid in the kitchen. I heard Cheerilee's voice, and then my Mom called out for me.

I walked up to the door with my head bowed low. I could see Rumble standing there at the edge of my vision, but he wasn't mad. He looked as guilty as I felt.

"Featherweight already admitted what happened," said Mom. "Feather, do you have something you want to say to your friend?"

"I'm... I'm sorry I hit you," I said, my voice cracking.

"I'm sorry I said that about your dad," said Rumble. "And about teasing you."

"No, wait," I said, and lifted my head so I could see him eye to eye. I knew I was about to cry, but doing this was more important than how I felt. "I'm real sorry, and I'm serious. I don't know why I did it and I feel terrible now. What you said wasn't even bad. It's true. I don't want to be like my father." My eyes began to water.

"It was bad," said Rumble. "I thought I was defending you when I said it, but it was stupid."

"What Rumble said was improper, but I believe him when he says it was an accident," said Cheerilee, and her face soured. "The teasing, however, was completely inappropriate. Featherweight's friends earned detention today for their role in it."

"I wish I knew why I reacted like that," I said, rubbing a tear from my cheek. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Rumble walked over and gave me a firm hug. "It's okay," he said, and I hugged him back.

"Featherweight, however, has detention for the entire week. Do you understand why?" said my teacher.

I nodded. "I deserve it," I said. "It's wrong to hit somepony because you're mad."

Cheerilee smiled. "I'm glad to hear you say that. Rumble, you can run back to class now. I'll speak with your mother later tonight," she said. "I'd like to talk to Featherweight's mother for a moment."

"Should I go back to class?" I asked.

"No, I think it would be best if you stayed home today and wrote an essay on why hitting your friend was wrong," said Cheerilee. "You can come back to class tomorrow."

Rumble turned toward me. "I'll come over tonight if Mom lets me," said Rumble. "I know you didn't mean it, but she might freak out a little."

"Go to your room and work on that essay, Feather," said Mom.

I nodded and walked into my room, but I quietly opened my window to listen in. I knew it was wrong, but my nerves were on edge with everything that had happened.

"You know, you can take him early if you need to," said Cheerilee. "They artificially mature the testicles to develop sperm from them. He's old enough already."

"This has nothing to do with that," said Mom, angrily. "Cheerilee, you of all ponies should know better. My Feather is not the monster his father was!"

"I deeply apologize, I did not mean to imply that," said Cheerilee. "I know Featherweight is a good foal and I don't think this incident has anything to do with his hormones. I only said something in the event that you might be concerned."

For some reason, the thought hadn't crossed my mind until now. Was this because of my balls? Cheerilee didn't seem to think so, but what if the hormones were already damaging my brain? Even if they weren't, if I'd been brave enough to tell Mom in the first place I wouldn't be so on edge about my balls. Not to mention, they wouldn't have needed to tease me.

"You should have led with that reassurance," said Mom, and she snorted. "I've had to deal with irrational prejudice toward him since before he was born."

"I'm so sorry. It was an ignorant thing to say," said Cheerilee. "For the record, I wouldn't want him to go right away, even if he had his first emission today. I'd rather not have the other students view gelding as a punishment."

"That's a good idea. If he does have his emission today I'll wait a few days to take him," said Mom. "But confidentially? I almost wish I didn't have to do it at all. I already know there's no chance he'll be like his father. He's the sweetest colt in Equestria. Anypony who actually gets to know him sees that."

"I agree, he is. I don't like it either, but there's no way to know a priori who needs the operation," said Cheerilee. "The societal benefit only works when gelding is applied to all colts, and the benefit is tremendous."

"Ah, yes. The 'greater good'," said Mom. I detected thick sarcasm in her voice.

"We should get caught up later. It's been too long," said Cheerilee.

"Maybe Sunday?" said my Mom.

"Noon at the Hayburger?" said Cheerilee.

"Sounds good. See you then," said Mom.

I carefully closed the window, then sat down on my bed in thought.

I was having a hard time justifying keeping my balls. I'd just hurt my best friend, something I never thought I'd be able to do. From what I'd learned in class (and what Cheerilee just said) I knew it probably had nothing to do with my testicles. It was a freak occurrence, nothing more... but it still presented a serious problem.

Today I did something I never imagined myself capable of doing.

What else was I capable of? Could I rape a mare? Everything I knew about myself said no. But how do you know for sure?

How can a pony truly know what lies beneath?

Aftermath

I woke up almost as confused as I'd been when I fell under. The same loss of self filled me, and the same disjointed thoughts pulled me into pieces. I don't remember the details, but eventually I settled back down into my body. I felt better mentally, but that wasn't saying much.

I was still strapped to the table. I couldn't open my eyes for more than a brief moment at a time, because my vision was blurry and I was very dizzy.

The nurse had already removed the bit and cleaned my face and chin.

"What," I gasped.

"You're recovering," said the nurse. "The doctor has left the room. The surgery was a success with no complications."

Rape is not a complication. Got it.

"It will take about thirty minutes before you can leave, and I'll need to walk you home in disguise. We can't put you in a normal recovery room because it will draw too much attention," she said. "You're still strapped to the device because you might fall down otherwise. Your balance will return over the next half-hour."

There was a silence for several minutes.

"Why did you do this to me?" I asked in a raspy voice. I still couldn't open my eyes. I just assumed the nurse was still in the room since I hadn't heard her leave.

"It's... for your own good," she said. "The gelding procedure is barbaric and wrong. You deserve to be intact, Featherweight."

"No, gelding isn't! What you did to me is barbaric and wrong," I countered, speaking slowly as my dry throat ached. "If I were actually being gelded you never would have let me suffer like this."

The nurse waited a few seconds before responding. "If the Gelding Edict were not enforced, you wouldn't need to suffer at all," she said. "The Edict is what is wrong. Gelding is wrong. No boy deserves to be mutilated, period."

"The Edict saves ponies' lives. If it were followed properly it would have saved my mother from being raped," I countered. "You butchered me, and now I'm going to grow up to be a monster."

I knew it was risky, challenging her like this. What if they thought they couldn't contain me? They might decide to kill me.

Actually, I'm pretty sure part of me was hoping for that outcome.

Of course I wouldn't want to do that to Mom. But I was weak, and I was lashing out. At that moment, I honestly didn't care what happened to me. Death seemed like it would be a release from the empty pit I was currently in.

"Stallions are not monsters. This... experience, it was a necessary evil," she said. "I wasn't lying when I said you'd be grateful for what we did today. You will be, Featherweight. Trust me. Just give it time."

"You sound exactly like somepony justifying gelding," I said.

"That... that's not fair," she said, her voice very soft. "Don't say that, dear. Please don't say that. We're helping you. A stallion is how you should be."

"Necessary evil? I'll be grateful? The way I should be, not what I want? Yeah, right," I said. "Dear Celestia. You can't even see what you've become."

She petted my mane. I wanted to recoil, but I was too dizzy. It took a minute before she spoke again (she probably needed time to rationalize away what I'd just told her). "You poor dear. It's okay. You'll understand soon," she whispered.

"I want this thing out of my body. I want to be gelded. Now." It felt like my eyes were trying to water again, but I didn't have any tears left.

"Listen to me, Featherweight. You can't tell anypony about this. Do you understand? You can't tell anypony," she said. "You are not a gelding, and you never will be, and that is a hard fact. It may seem unfortunate, but that's just the way it is."

"Oh yeah? Why can't I tell anypony?"

Kill me. Do it.

"Because you're a criminal now, just like us. You let this happen," she accused. "You agreed to the procedure. You may have backed out at the last moment, but you had already made your choice. We found you because you became a stallion and tried to hide it. We gave you a very specific offer, and you seized it. You asked for this to happen, and we only did it to help you. You wanted this."

"No! I... I d-didn't," I said, choking on my own words.

"Yes, you did. Sweetheart, do you really want your mother to know the lengths you've gone to in order to avoid becoming a gelding? If you listen to us, you'll have a long and healthy life as a stallion, and nopony ever needs to know what you've done. If not, you'll have..."

The nurse paused for a moment. I heard her take in a deep, shaky-sounding breath.

"...you'll have disappointed everypony you've ever known. Especially your mother." Her voice faltered. I could tell it hurt her to say that. She said it anyway.

I was surprised to realize I felt bad for her. Maybe I should have felt justified that the act of hurting me was also hurting her, but I couldn't revel in her pain. At the time, it felt like there was nothing remaining in life for me to enjoy. I wasn't going to let somepony else's misery be my only ray of sunshine. I didn't want more pain in the world. Even if she had just raped me.

"Please don't do this to me," I begged in a quiet voice. "Please, just geld me, I won't tell anypony, ever, okay? I promise! Just geld me. I know you can do it, it's easy! Just get a knife and do it right now, and don't tell the doctor. I don't even care if I can feel it. I want to be normal. Please fix me. Please. You're my last chance..."

There was no response.

Minutes passed in silence. Eventually I was able to open my eyes. We said nothing more to each other, the nurse and I. Everything had already been said.

She led me out of the clinic by the back door, and transformed back into her disguise. She walked me most of the way home before we stopped.

"Walk home very slowly," she told me, and placed a pair of paper pharmacy bags across my saddle. "You're bandaged up and you look gelded, but you need to sleep off the ketamine after you take your pills. Remember what we talked about. Rest up and you'll feel better tomorrow."

I nodded, but said nothing.

"Featherweight," she said, turning my chin to force me to look into the fake eyes of her illusionary form. "Trust me, my little stallion. You're going to be very happy in the future. This will get better, and soon."

I nodded again, without a hint of a smile.

It turns out that telling a rape victim things are about to get better isn't very reassuring. Of course things are going to get better right after you get raped. It's obvious.

I mean, they couldn't possibly get worse.

I knocked on my door. To my surprise, Mom was home.

"Son? What are you doing home?" she asked, and then she saw the pharmacy bags. "Whose prescriptions are those?"

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I didn't want to lie to her, even if I had no choice in the matter.

Mom saw the vacant look in my eyes and her face paled. "Feather, sweetie, what's going on?"

I turned around and lifted tail, which is embarrassing to do to your mom in broad daylight. I briefly realized that if I had hallucinated the rape, I'd just tossed Mom an obscene gesture for no obvious reason. But it was the only way to communicate the lie.

"What!? You've been gelded?" said Mom, and she turned me around and lifted my head to look into her watering eyes. "This is impossible! The clinic would never do this without one of your parents present! How did this happen?"

I remembered what the doctor had told me to say, but I quickly thought up a better cover story that might not even be a lie. Technically, at least.

"I found a mare who was willing to pose as my mother," I said. "She took me. It wasn't a normal geld, though. There were complications so they had to sedate me."

My mother pulled me into a vice-like hug. "Oh, Celestia, why did you do this, baby?" she said, sniffling. "I wanted to be there for you Feather! Don't you know how much I love you?"

"It was just something I had to do," I said, my voice a slow monotone. "I had to... prove I was strong."

My mother broke the hug. There were tears on her cheeks but I could see a fire in her eyes. "No. This is unconscionable. This never should have happened," she said. "I can see how hurt you are inside, son. It's not just the sedation. Those ponies hurt you and I wasn't there to prevent it from happening."

"I'm sorry, Mom," I said. I closed my eyes and bowed my head low.

I'm more sorry than you know, I thought.

"I don't blame you for this, Featherweight. None of this is your fault," she said, lifting my head. I kept my eyes closed, though. I couldn't bear to look into her eyes, because even as numb as I felt I was afraid of crying again. "I understand you wanted to prove you were an adult, but you are twelve years old and the clinic should have scanned that mare to prove she was your mother. And that mare deserves to be punished! Gelding another mare's foal!"

"Mom, please. It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Who is she? I need you to tell me everything, Feather. What was her cutie mark? What was her pelt color?" she demanded.

"I... I can't do this right now," I said, opening my eyes a crack. Mom was so livid her scrunched-up muzzle was beginning to turn red. "I need to sleep for a while."

"Yes, of course," she said. Mom sighed and nodded, then kissed me on the forehead and led me into the house. "Do you know how to take your medication?"

"No. It has instructions, though," I said as she shut the front door behind her. "Why are you home today?"

"I needed to take a personal day off from work. I've been stressed about your gelding... and then this happens," she said, wincing. "But it's not your fault, Featherweight. I appreciate what you were trying to do, but I already know how strong and courageous you are. I just want you to be happy and healthy."

Courageous. Ha.

"I'm going to go to my room and sleep now," I said.

"Not yet," said Mom. She removed the bags and opened them, retrieving two bottles of pills. "Okay. This one's an antibiotic, and this other one's a painkiller. You need to avoid taking the painkillers except when absolutely necessary."

I suddenly became aware of the dull, throbbing ache in my hidden balls. It was remarkably painful.

How could I not have noticed?

"I think I need one now. It hurts real bad and I need to sleep," I said.

Mom hoofed me one of each pill and a glass of water. I downed them both.

"Thanks Mom," I said, with a weak smile. I walked to the bathroom and took a pee, then went into my room and lay down in the bed.

The pain was overwhelming my senses. I wondered when the painkillers would kick in. Even though I felt like I needed to suffer, I didn't want to suffer this much. Not only did my scrotum hurt, there was pressure inside me and it felt like somepony was tightly squeezing my balls in their hoof. This went on for at least ten minutes, which wasn't much fun.

I noticed I was crying after the first few tears had fallen. It felt nice to know I could still do that. I didn't feel sad, but I could sense that real emotions were starting to return to me. I wiped my eyes, and moments later the painkillers hit.

I felt a combination of three things: sweet relief, euphoria, and increased tiredness. All this and the pain, now tolerable. It felt like the pain was at leg's length. It was still there, but dull and easier to ignore. I fell asleep within minutes.

When I woke up, I tossed my covers off. They were covered in a sticky mess of cold, clear goo.

I yelped out loud, then quietly cursed myself. What had I just done?

Mom opened the door before I had a chance to pull the covers back on myself. I did pull the covers back on (of course) but she'd already seen it.

"It's okay, Feather," she said.

"Mom, I can explain!" I said, eyes wide. "It's from this morning..."

"Don't lie to your mother, Featherweight. It isn't from this morning," said Mom, though her face looked relieved rather than stern. "Don't worry about this. It's normal for young colts to have an emission after being gelded. It could even happen again."

"Oh," I said, and tossed the wet covers off of my body. I was embarrassed for her to see them, but I couldn't bear feeling the filth against my pelt. "Wait, when will it stop?"

"Within a week, usually," she said. "If it doesn't, we'll need to have your testosterone level checked, and possibly your prostate as well."

Suddenly, I realized I'd have to do the feather trick for the remainder of my foalhood. (Okay, maybe I didn't really have a foalhood left after the Tartarus I'd been through, but the next five years at least.) A shiver of phantom pain passed through my penis. It was stronger than the pain in my balls, but then the painkiller I'd taken still seemed to be working.

I was certain I wouldn't be able to endure five years of stabbing myself in the cock every single night while I tried and failed to sleep. Yet I had no choice. I felt panic taking over. I began to hyperventilate.

"Feather, it's fine!" said Mom. She kissed me on the forehead and gathered my sheets, stopping to wipe my body clean with an unspoiled section of the soiled linens. "I'll take care of these so you can sleep comfortably tonight."

I thought about the ponies who did this to me, and it made me angry. Then I realized they might be my salvation. There had to be a way to hide this from Mom, or they wouldn't have done it to me. Of course, that meant yet more lying to the mare who was my best friend and chief protector.

I began to bawl like a little baby. Mom dropped the sheets and pulled me into her legs.

"There, there," she said, kissing my brow. "I know this is hard, honey. It's normal to feel this way, but it will pass very soon."

"I'm j-just s-so sorry," I said, sobbing on her shoulder as I struggled to get the words out between heaving breaths.

"Shhh. You have nothing to be sorry for," she said.

You're so wrong, Mom.

It took me the rest of the evening to finally calm down. I was tired again, and my balls were beginning to hurt as the narcotic was wearing off. Mom had already brought my sheets and remade my bed. I spent most of my time sobbing in the bathroom.

Once the tears had dried up, we had dinner together. It was leftovers from what she'd made the night before when I went to the Hayburger. Mom must have felt really sorry for me, because she looked physically sick. This made me feel even more guilty inside.

During dinner, we talked. "I need you to tell me about that mare," said Mom.

I took in a deep breath and sighed. "I don't remember anything else about her," I lied. "The stuff they had to give me messed with my brain... I can't remember most of it now."

"Surely you remember something?" she asked me. "I don't want to make you relive what you went through, but please, think hard. This mare needs to answer for what she did to you. Whether you wanted her help isn't the point."

"I can't remember her color or mane. I think she was an earth pony?" I shook my head. "I mean, I know some mare helped me, but... I'm sorry. I don't even know what the doctor looked like."

"I didn't know sedatives could be that powerful," said Mom. "Sweetheart, if you're protecting her, please don't. She could go on to hurt somepony else. We need to know who she is."

"I, I just... I can't remember. I'm sorry." I stuffed my mouth with a heap of fried bluegrass and looked down at the table.

Mom sighed. Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Who could that be at this hour?" she said, then walked to the door and opened it.

It was Cheerilee, which didn't surprise me. The two mares started talking in quiet whispers. I perked my ears up, but it didn't help. Then their voices raised to a normal speaking tone.

"I'm glad to hear that he's okay," said Cheerilee. She craned her neck in the door and smiled at me from a distance. "Congratulations on a successful gelding, Featherweight!"

"Um, thanks," I said, and faked a smile, probably unconvincingly.

"I have to go to the clinic tomorrow and investigate this," said Mom. "I can't believe this was allowed to happen."

I listened in, intently.

"It's very unfortunate. There shouldn't be gaps in the system like this," said Cheerilee. "Gelding is trying enough for colts as it is."

"Can you imagine why she did it?" asked Mom.

"I don't know. Maybe she thought she was doing him a favor, but how anypony with horse sense in them could think this was a good idea..."

"It's been terrible. He's an emotional..." said Mom, then she turned and looked at me. She smiled in a way that suggested she was both proud and sad at the same time, then stepped outside and shut the door to speak with Cheerilee where I couldn't hear.

I'd nearly finished my meal by the time she stepped back inside.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," said Mom. The two mares said their goodbyes, and Mom returned to the table.

I drank the rest of my milk in one gulp. At least I have a healthy appetite, I thought. "Can I go to sleep early?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, dear. Did you take the dinner antibiotic?"

"Yeah. I think I need another painkiller, though. It's starting to hurt bad and I don't know if I'll be able to sleep," I said.

"Okay. It should be better in a day or two, though, so tomorrow you should try to sleep without it if you can."

I took the narcotic with a sip of water from the sink, and went to my room to lie down. I tried not to think about the monster I'd become, but I couldn't get my mind off of the cancerous organs now trapped inside my body.

About fifteen minutes later, the pain began to dull and euphoria once again filled my core. I quickly learned something: painkillers don't only stop physical pain. They work on emotional pain as well! The last narcotic I took didn't seem to have that effect, but it was probably because I was such a complete wreck. Now I felt fine, more or less. I was so grateful for the magic of chemistry.

But what would I do when I ran out of medication? I didn't want to think about it. My only hope for any normalcy in my future were the bastards who had done this to me. They said somepony would come by tomorrow to help me. If they couldn't help me manage this nightmare, I'd have no choice but to confess and tell Mom everything. But that was the last thing in the world I wanted to happen.

Fortunately, the painkillers helped mute two additional sources of pain: the pain of yanking a primary feather, and the pain of a feather quill jabbing me in the penis as I slept. For the first time in a week, I got a decent night's sleep, uninterrupted. Mostly, anyway. I managed to clock almost seven hours.

Waking up early wasn't a boon, though. On the downside, I had to wait two hours for Mom to wake up in order to ask her for another painkiller, and it was pretty agonizing. I just lay in my bed squirming with my legs and listening to my heart beat to distract me. On the upside, that constant ache in my balls kept me from focusing mentally on how screwed I was.