I'd done it. Procrastination had gotten me in the end. I gotta get those brakes fixed. The suspension's a little soft on the right side. I'll top up the brake fluid tomorrow.
When the tire blew out, and my car pulled hard to the right at fifty miles an hour, I knew I was about to have a Bad Day. The screech of three good tires could not balance out the grinding metal-on-blacktop sound of the bad one, and when the tire of the good front tire caught on the road, it was time to get the ground and sky mixed up.
In slow motion I counted twelve times the dark road turned to bright sky. By the time the twelfth was leading to the thirteenth, I passed out—mercifully. In the dark place of the unconscious mind, I dreamed about waking up in hospital, in Heaven, or even in the Other Place.
Groaning, I could feel someone moving my limbs about, adjusting my position. Looked like hospital was the answer—in Heaven I wouldn't feel as sore as I did, and in the Other Place I'd feel much worse. I opened my parched mouth to speak, but whoever was adjusting my position beat me to it.
"You're awake?" A woman's voice—breathy and alluring—expressed excitement and delight with just two words.
Cracking my eyes open a sliver, the light of the room dashed any hope of seeing the gorgeous nurse my mind conjured. Slim waist, generous hips, and breasts that would be pushing her shirt out in all the right ways, I focused all my attention on my ears as I managed to get, "Yeah," past my dry mouth.
"Wonderful! I'll just go get Doctor Horse," she said.
Doctor Horse? I started warming up every horse pun I could think of for the doctor. It didn't matter if he'd probably heard them all a million times.
I held my eyes open. The light stung at first, but slowly I began to make out details. For a hospital room, it was brightly decorated and well lit. Sunshine streamed through the window in a way that made everything seem more real.
The door opened and a brown man entered with the most orange hair I'd ever seen. He had to be dying it. The more I looked at him the more something seemed off, and when he got closer I could see a faint texturing to his skin. It wasn't skin.
"Hi. I'm Doctor Horse. I hear you're awake?" He rolled his eyes like a pro, the gag actually making me smile despite the very strange, furred man standing at my bedside.
Then the nurse came in. My estimate had been wrong—completely wrong. Forget the C cups of my fantasy, she had a pair of D cups (if I was any judge of breasts, and I was) that sat perky on her chest above a slim waist, and hips to balance her chest. The nurse was, by any definition, a statuesque beauty on-par with any supermodel.
She also was white and had a horn.
The horn spiraling out of her forehead was the lesser of the strange aspects of her. Her perfect arms and the deep cleavage that bisected the collar of her shirt were white. Not just white skinned, she was pure white furred.
Before another thought could enter my skull—another question about the strange situation—I had to know something. I lifted my right arm up and looked at it. Soft blue fur covered my hand, wrist, and arm up to where it disappeared into the sleeve of my hospital gown.
"W-W-What's happened?" I asked.
"You've recovered from a minor coma. Disorientation is expected, though that shouldn't take long to pass. How do you feel?" Dr. Horse asked me.
As I watched his mouth work, I realized what his fur and the nurse's breasts had distracted me from. They had muzzles. Not big ones, rather compact, but they were definitely little snouts. Darkness started to crowd in at the edge of my vision, and though I could hear the doctor say something, the sight of his mouth working only served to speed the descent into the dark.
"With us again, are you?" Miss D-cups asked.
The voice had unmistakably come from directly above me, and when I opened my eyes, I got a close-up view of the cleavage I'd admired earlier. The thinky-thinky parts of my brain gave ground to anything with a hardwired nerve connection to my penis. I didn't care that they were fuzzy—they were amazing.
I guess I was a little distracted for too long, because she pulled back and gave me a confused look. "Are you okay, sir?"
Working hard to imprint the memory of my close-encounter with her mammaries deeper, I managed to recover some of my senses. "Y-Yeah. Not really. What's going on? I was driving my car, and—" The memory of the crash came back. "Okay, I think I pieced that together. What's with the suit?"
"Suit?"
"Hair-suit." I waited a moment for her to get the pun. She didn't. "I mean, you're all fuzzy, and you have a horn. Are you dressed up for the children's ward?" The logic wasn't sound, I knew, but it was the best excuse for why she was dressed up I could think of.
She looked more confused than ever. Her cute little snout wrinkled up, her ears—why hadn't I noticed her ears were fuzzy, pointed, and at the top of her head—were tucked back, and she genuinely looked concerned. "I'll go get Doctor Hor—"
"Wait. Please. You can answer this stuff just as well, and you're easier on the eyes." Sure. Flirt with the horse-woman. Looks like penis was trying to wrangle control again. That she blushed and smiled her way out of her confusion actually reassured me. "Before I woke up here, I was a pink-skinned human with no fur, no snout, and ears on the sides of my head. I'm not freaking out about all this because—"
"Because we still have you on some pain meds." D-cups smiled a little more at me. "They'll be why you're having trouble thinking with your head—not that I'm complaining." Okay, I should stop calling her D-cups, she was clearly not just smart but practical. "So something magic happened, you wound up here, now we're taking care of you."
"Let me get one thing sorted before I make a fool of myself and call you what I've been thinking in my head. My names Paul," I said.
"Nurse Softheart,' she said with a smile that made me tingle with happiness.
"Well, Miss Softheart, if you still have me on pain meds, I assume I'm still in pain?" That I didn't feel any pain was amazing. Last time I'd been in hospital for a broken leg they'd given me some good stuff, but I'd still been able to feel my leg.
"Your leg and arm were broken. We've taken care of those, but there was still minor swelling of your brain. The painkillers work by reducing swelling, so you are on them to take care of that." She checked off her chart, read information off the machine softly beeping at my side, and made sideways glances—catching me looking at her figure each and every time.
"When can I leave?" I had more than a little trouble looking up from her chest, but a knowing smile was waiting for me when I did.
"Once the doctor confirms the swelling is gone." Softheart bit her lower lip and looked down my body, seeming to take stock as much as I did of hers.
Our flirting continued whenever she checked up on me. There were other nurses:
Snowheart: more curvy, C-cups.
Tenderheart: beanpole, barely B-cups.
Sweetheart: a little dumpy, but with a pair of DD-cups that wouldn't quit.
But of all those who kept an eye on me, Softheart seemed most attentive. When I was discharged, she met me at the front doors. "Where're you going?" she asked with a curious tone.
"Given that I'm in a different world, and I don't know anyone, probably a ditch somewhere." My eyes slid down her front, gathering all the information afresh now that she'd unfastened another button. "Did you have an alternative?"
Softheart leaned in and pressed to my side. "I normally wouldn't do this, but if you need somewhere to stay while you get settled, I have a spare bed."
The offer was blatant and overt, even to my alien (to them) way of thinking. The touching was different, but when in Rome, eh? Daring, I reached an arm around Softheart's back and curled my fuzzy fingers to her waist. "There's no way I'm going to turn down an offer like that, you realize?"
In clothes I borrowed from the hospital, I clung to Softheart's side as she led the way to her home. It wasn't a long walk, but the varied colors of all the pony-people served only to highlight how different the world was, but the same. They were doing people things: talking, walking from place to place, and I even caught two smoking-hot women sneaking a kiss together.
The hot lesbians made sure that I was already tight in my pants by the time Softheart ushered me into her house. The moment the door was closed behind me she pressed me to the wall and pressed her snout to mine.
Kisses here were quite something. Her hands searched my body—focused on my chest—while her lips stole all reason from me. There was a wild and uncontrollable nature to her actions, and I wasn't going to argue.
Her hands slid up under my shirt and felt the play of muscles from my pecs down to my abdominal muscles, but her grunt of annoyance at my shirt broke the kiss. "Get your shirt off. I want to look at you."
"Yes ma'am!" I tried to make the motion of pulling the shirt over my head sexy, but I think I fell short into comical. Watching Softheart's big, expressive eyes tracing over my exposed body—fur— made me want to demand the same of her. "You too."
And she did. With a big grin, Softheart started with the bottom button of her shirt and slowly worked her way up. She exposed more and more pristine white fur to my eyes until there were just two buttons remaining. The penultimate button revealed the lower curve of her breasts, and the last one let the curtains part for the main show.
Her chest was every bit as impressive without the confines of her shirt as with—but more so. Her breasts were big, perky, and fit her size and build perfectly.
"You really like my girls?" Softheart asked.
I looked up with a supreme effort of will, and nodded. When I met her eyes, I could see the same hunger that I felt reflected back.
"Then prove it. I want to see all of you while you," Softheart reached behind her back, "take care of them."
Stunned at the sight of her bra's tension releasing, I watched as her breasts sagged only a little, almost drooling in anticipation. Like a dehydrated man at an oasis, I walked reverently toward her and dipped my head down to nuzzle and kiss her breasts.
Snouts, I decided, were superior to a normal human face for this task. The fur of my cheeks was sensitive and let me feel the supple play of her breasts as I rubbed against them. I drew my snout along the soft-furred flesh until I caught a nipple between my lips. Opening my mouth as wide as I could, I kept my teeth back but sucked as much of her right breast into my mouth as I could, though it wasn't much.
Softheart's moan told me I knew how to show her girls a good time, but I'd been neglecting one of the twins. I snaked a hand up and cupped it, then kneaded it. The moaning continued as I fumbled at my pants, giving up on the belt as I shoved them down forcefully.
"Paul?" she asked. It took me a moment to recover my senses from the deluge of excitement. I tilted my head back and looked up at her. "Paul, let's go to my bedroom before someone looks in the window at all the noise."
Bedroom, ends of the Earth, another planet—I would have followed her anywhere. And when Softheart turned around, and her skirt hit the floor, you bet I followed, and my own pants joined hers on the way through the house, tail wagging behind me.
When the bedroom door closed behind me, I was gloriously trapped. The lights weren't bright, but with her white fur it was more than enough for me to rush across and kiss her again. Each of us was clad in only enough clothing to hide our groins, though mine was tented out with my excitement. Our kisses were rapid, rough, demanding. I started kissing lower, but she turned me around and sat me down on the bed.
"You want it all, Paul?"
I nodded eagerly and watched her thumbs hook the sides of her panties, but I lost sight of her hands as she presented her folds to me. Her fur was shaved in a neat little circle around her hot entrance, and I was salivating at the thought of what was about to happen.
"Not yet, though. Let's take a different approach." Softheart kneeled down and shuffled right up before me, then tsked at my clad loins. "This needs to go. Let me see what you've got for me."
There are some things a guy doesn't refuse a naked woman, and his underwear is pretty high on that list. I pushed down with my hands so she could help me remove the boxers without me needing to get up.
"So hard and ready. Either you've got some stamina, or this will be quick," Softheart said. She looked into my confused expression with a warm smile. "I like hard and fast as much as slow and long."
She didn't say another word. Softheart leaned down and kissed the tip of my dick, kissed it again, then pressed down so her lips parted around me. I was already in heaven, and let her know with a groan of appreciation. With one hand clenched into a fist around the bedcover, I reached to her cheek with the other.
Her head dipped down and rose again. I slammed my eyes closed as every nerve in my body sang in sympathy. Down and up again, then again, then just down. Her lips locked around the base of my shaft, I felt her hand close gently, reverently around my balls and start to fondle them.
I felt like I was dipped in honey. The world seemed ten times more intense than ever before, and her touch was mind-blowing. She didn't lift her head, instead suckling and working her tongue around me in her mouth.
The sensation seemed to change, and I let out my own moan as everything intensified again. Pressure swelled, and even as she seemed intent in sucking me to climax, I could feel my body shifting on its own.
Her touch seemed to change, her sucking sensation shifting and changing, and before I knew what was going on she licked me. I moaned still, each of her licks pulling another sound from me at the blinding pleasure.
The licks continued until my mind melted, my groin exploded, and I came. I know I screamed, but I didn't care. Softheart kept licking at me, and my whole body seemed on fire with pleasure. When I fell backward on to the bed, Softheart moved with me.
My world was a blur. I couldn't tell what way was up or down, left or right. I stared at the headboard in confusion as lightning seemed to crackle around my body.
Softheart moved over me. I looked up at her, my mind telling me something was different, but my libido overruling it.
"Ready?" she asked.
No, I wanted to say, but I nodded.
Pressure. So much pressure. It was like my penis had something against the tip of it. It was intense and amazing and then it was inside. My eyes flew open in shock, and I tilted my head to look down our bodies—our pony bodies. We were both horses. I had hooves, she had hooves. We had tails. I was—I was a mare, and Softheart was pushing into me.
The sex was too good for me. I whimpered softly, hungrily, as she pushed in further. I looked up into her eyes and saw the same pleasure I felt dancing in her eyes. She pushed more, deeper, and soon I felt her belly press to my groin.
"Here it comes, lover." Softheart blew my mind away as she pulled back, then humped forward.
My world rocked and shook, and I couldn't deny how good it felt to be filled by her. One thrust, two thrusts, three thrusts, and then she slammed home again and held herself to me. A hot rush deep within shocked me at the intensity. I looked into Softheart's face and saw her pulling the same silly face everyone did at climax.
Then she slumped down on top of me, closed her eyes, and hugged me tighter still.
Events rushed into my head as I realized the sex had literally come to its conclusion. I tried to put things together:
I'm a pony.
She's a pony.
I'm female.
She's definitely male.
"W-W-What was that?" I asked.
Softheart giggled and kissed my cheek. "Amazing."
"N-No. I mean, why'd you turn me into a pony? Why am I female?" I was still guy enough to be upset over losing my penis, but the sex-hungry parts of me were satisfied with how full I was. My body was still horny—I was still horny—but being stuffed with Softheart's shaft was enough to keep the need at bay. How the heck can I think like that?!
"Uh—" Softheart looked a mix between satisfied and worried. It was kinda cute. "N-Nobody told you about sex? You seemed—well—really into it. I figured you knew."
"This is normal?"
"Well, yeah. Kinda the reason Princess Celestia turned Discord to stone. Whenever you get horny, you turn full pony and become, well, the opposite sex. I thought you knew." Looking more worried than satisfied now, Softheart looked down our joined bodies. "W-What have I done?!"
My own panic wanted to run as free as hers, it was running as free as hers, but I hated seeing her frown, even on what was apparently a fully pony face. I leaned up and kissed her—which had the effect of stopping her panic dead.
"I can't say I expected this, or that it's what I wanted, but it wasn't your fault." The words spilled from my mouth. Anything to take away her worry. "Look, I'm going to panic and freak out later—there's probably a million things I'm missing here—but that's later. Relax, please?"
She shifted atop me—inside me—and it earned her a little whimper from me. "You're taking this pretty well. I can probably get off now—I mean off you—if you want?"
"Give me a few more minutes to process everything while I'm comfortably numb from arousal," I said.
Disengaging, a little time to wait out what Softheart explained was the cooling off period, separate showers, and we were sitting at the kitchen table looking at each other.
In particular, I was trying to think of how bizarre things had been while not admiring how well Softheart filled out the dressing gown. The only reason I wasn't stark-raving mad was the coffee—good coffee. "Explain it to me. All of it. What is this, and how—?" I couldn't think of more words, so left it there.
"It's a curse. All of Equestria is cursed. You can get turned on, even get a little hot under the covers, but when you start to really get into it, bam, pony." Softheart sipped her coffee.
I followed suit, taking my mind off her amazing breasts long enough to sip some coffee and actually focus on the matter at hand—or hoof, depending how horny you were. "Not to mention turning into a woman."
"What? No. You turn into a mare. Way different. If you turned into a woman, then you would turn into a stallion. It might seem confusing, particularly since it's kinda hard to tell if a guy is in season until they change, but—" Softheart said.
"Wait!" I narrowed my gaze on Softheart's face. "What did you say about guys and season?"
"Well, it's pretty obvious when a woman's in heat. We get a hornier, and turn heads a little more than usual. Not that it matters much. The moment we get it on, we turn into a stallion. But guys have it tough. They can be feeling normal, then getting into sex and bam, mare in heat." When she said "bam", I noticed Softheart's breasts bob a little. Stupid sexy… everything. "Which is why I went down on you, silly. It's kinda the done thing for women, since then we can get a good sniff and back off before things go too far."
The world went out of focus, and not even Softheart's mammaries could keep my focus. "I could have gotten pregnant?!"
Softheart held up both hands in a placating gesture I wanted nothing to do with. "No. Well. If I wasn't careful and you were in heat, you might have. But you weren't, and I was, so you aren't."
"How can you tell?"
"You turned back human. If you'd stayed as a pony… It's kinda a give away."
I looked down into my coffee. It had been the close call to end all close calls. I watched the dark drink until it started to go cold. "So what now?"
"Well, since we know you're not in heat—Do you want round two? I could eat you out a few times—a welcoming to a different way of life."
"'Different'?"
Softheart looked over the top of an empty cup of coffee, hiding what I could see in her cheeks was a smile. "You seemed freaked out by this, and given we're the only country this affects, I kinda assumed this was new to you."
My brain screamed to back up and worry some more, but my penis seemed onboard with her idea. "O-Okay. But we take it slower. I want to do some investigating."
If I had to guess, this was Softheart's playful side. Her eyes crinkled at the corners she was smiling so much. "Investigating? You know, it doesn't have to end with me being on top and going in. Even a stallion can go slow sometimes."
"Hey! That reminds me. What was up with the ten-second-sprint at the end? Not that I didn't appreciate the stuff before that, but a little warning'd be good next time," I said.
"I know, right? No one can last as long as I do. I've heard of stallions who don't get past the first jab."
My penis beat my brain (and its misgivings) into submission. I was getting horny again, and just one glance at Softheart's chest was enough to get my motor running. Each breath she took caused her bathrobe to slip a little more. I barely noticed her smile get wider, but I did see when she stood up. In fact, my head tilted, eyes tracking like a laser-guidance system.
"You really like 'em that much?"
I nodded, stood up, and decided to show her. Bending a little, I hooked one arm behind her back and the other under her knees. Lifting Softheart and ignoring her excited laughs, I carried her back to the bedroom—where I'd lost my mare-ginity (if that wasn't a word before, it was now).
When I put her down on the bed, I couldn't help but see her robe had parted further. "This is so strange," I said as I leaned over her and peeled back her robe.
"You don't like breasts?"
My head snapped up to look at Softheart's naughty smile. "The whole becoming a mare thing, turning back, all of it." I pressed my cheek down and rubbed the side of my snout against her left breast while my hand caught her right. "Your breasts are very likable."
Leaning further over her, I pulled at my own robe and cast it to the floor. I reached down between her legs and checked the waters—she was hot, wet, and ready. I had just one chance at this, and once it started we would be on borrowed time. "You're not in heat?"
When Softheart shook her head, I moved. Pressing myself against her entrance, I watched her eyes shoot wide as I pushed inside. For one blissful moment I was male, she was female, and I was inside her.
Softheart stared at me in shock, but a smile painted her lips. I looked down at her as her snout grew longer and more distinct, her head changed, neck shifted, and her arms turned into forelegs. I looked down her body to see her breasts seem to absorb into her torso and her lower end turn into her back end.
There was a brief moment when I felt her entrance start to push at my shaft before my penis shrank back from the oncoming wave of sexual change. I shuddered and braced my arms against the bed, and stared in fascination as they changed into forelegs.
The instant my body changed from male to female, I was acutely aware of a pressure against my belly. It wasn't hard to work out what it was. She wasn't huge, but it was big enough—and penis enough—that I knew it was there.
"That was amazing. I've never really—I mean, I've masturbated a bit, and people have gone down on me, but pushing inside was amazing, Paul." Softheart's lips found mine and delivered me into a kiss that had my head spinning.
I wouldn't even be doing this with her again if it weren't for how good everything felt as a pony. Kissing was almost as good as sex, and sex was amazing (though I needed more experience with the second bit—and the first bit).
The kiss almost made me forget the compliment—it was good to be told you'd done something amazing. "Okay. I want to take stock a little here. What do I—How do—Oh, right, I'm on top." Shifting my weight reminded me that there was a penis that wasn't mine pressed against my belly. It was startling, but it also filled me with curiosity—I didn't have one anymore, so what did I have?
Climbing completely off Softheart, I stood on the floor—on all-fours—and dipped my head down. I looked back along my body and the sea of soft blue fur, and looked back between my legs. "Where's my vagina?"
"Your vagina? That's inside you, silly."
"Ugh. The downsides of sex with a nurse. Okay, where's my pussy?" I asked.
"Behind you."
Okay, so this was going to be a physics problem. Crouching down, I rolled over so I was on my back, then arched my back as much as it could go. My snout was almost able to touch my midsection, but I couldn't bend any further. "No!" I said when I sensed Softheart about to say something. "I got this."
Rolling back to my hooves, I balanced on them for a few seconds before turning to the side. Shoulder, ribs… I couldn't quite get myself turned enough to see my butt, but I tried anyway. What happened made Softheart giggle so much she got a case of the hiccups—I ran around in a circle like a dog chasing their tail.
I'm not a proud guy, but having your lover laugh at you while you do your best dog impression despite actually trying to accomplish something else, was pretty low. At her peals of laughter, I felt annoyance grow inside, but she climbed off the bed and cured it with one kiss.
"You're adorable, but a mirror or two is what you need, Paul." Softheart gestured to a floor-length mirror in the corner of her room. "Back yourself up to that."
Okay, so she was sexy and smart. I turned around and tried to step backwards—but couldn't. It wasn't that I couldn't move my legs in that direction, but everything just felt wrong. Getting the hint pony physiology was giving, I turned and walked up to the mirror and turned around on the spot. Looking back over my shoulder again (but not so far as to walk in circles), I looked at the cascade of yellow hair from my tail.
I slowly focused on the muscles I had back there (and after my last time in the bedroom, I knew I had a lot of them), and the cascade of yellow shifted to the side. A raindrop under a bagel. I wasn't expecting that. "Is that it?"
"You expected neon lights and a little set of curtains? It's your vulva." Softheart walked up beside me—facing the opposite way I was—and leaned down and licked along the "raindrop".
Catching my breath, I watched something at the bottom of the raindrop poke out briefly, which coincided with an intense and automatic clenching of something back there. Softheart waited, like a predator, until it winked out again and lanced it with her tongue.
I saw stars. My legs wobbled, and I may or may not have made a soft whinny. Every nerve in my body sang in sympathy with that little nub of flesh, and a name floated up through the mush that was left of my brain—clitoris.
When it winked again, she caught it again with her tongue, then nuzzled and licked along the raindrop. Each touch stoked the fire of pleasure higher. It was like a flamethrower dousing me in lust. I let her work, unable to contemplate turning Softheart away from her ministrations.
"You taste good, Paul. Dip your head down if you want to see how good." I noticed Softheart's voice was a little deeper, and had more drive behind it.
Lowering my head, I caught sight of what Softheart had meant. She was hard as a rock and had leaked a little something from the tip of her shaft. It's not gay if I'm a mare was a bullshit excuse and I knew it. The truth was there was not a gay thing about this.
Steeling myself, I leaned a little under her and sniffed. The heady scent of arousal combined with another lick along my raindrop. I almost licked her—almost. But when she licked me, again and again, it eroded any hint of control I had. Sticking out my tongue, I ran it from the base of her all the way to the ridge halfway along it. She was musky, spicy, and salty. It wasn't bad—far from it—but I wanted to explore things in a little more controlled situation. "Can we—"
She stole my words again with another lick. I moaned, not caring how I sounded. When I could think again, I tried to pull my tail muscles to cover up, but my body had other ideas. "Softheart, wait."
"Do you know how hard it is not just jumping on you and bucking you silly? I want to fuck you Paul." Softheart backed a step away, proving she was probably more dedicated to following my wishes than my body was. "What's up?"
My nerves twitched and danced, eager for more attention. I managed to not beg her to mount me—mostly because I remembered how quick she was. "C-Can we get on the bed? I don't think my legs can take this."
Softheart's squarish jaw pulled her lips into a satisfied grin. "Glad to know I've still got it when it comes to making a mare feel good. Saddle up, little filly." She walked past me, her tail arched high, and climbed up onto the bed.
The searing flames within me seemed to lower a little, but it didn't stop me from following her. Lifting my forelegs up, I pushed forward on my knees and flopped to my side once full on. "Now show it all to me."
"Be careful, stallions are on a hair trigger. If you make a mess of the bed, you help clean it." With that said, Softheart arranged herself and flopped down before me.
She curled herself against me, but Softheart didn't go straight for my raindrop—I couldn't call it my vulva, pussy, slit, or anything else—instead she found something between my legs that stirred happy little sounds with each touch.
I had to know what she was doing, and leaned to look between my legs. There was two tight little mounds that had a proud lump on them about half the size of my little finger. When Softheart touched one, opened her mouth and curled her tongue around it, I made all those little noises of approval again.
Tits. She was fondling my horse-tits. She did it again, and again, and finally it broke me of all the negative connotations. She was playing with my fun-bags, and it was great!
I wasn't a bad lover, or so I wanted to believe, so I tilted my head back up and saw it. To hear stories of horse dongs, they were huge—massive. This was… Well, it had felt big enough inside me, but to see it now it was very normal size. I nosed at it and watched as Softheart's leg lifted to give me a better look.
The shaft was darker than her fur, which wasn't hard. Gray with mottles of black, the whole thing seemed alien. The tip looked like someone had tried to cast a bell from badly made molds, and there was one big vein running from the base almost halfway down it. Which, is where the next oddity was. Like a dipstick for an engine, her shaft had a ring around it that I could only guess was a depth gauge.
To test the waters, I licked the ring around the middle, and immediately got a reaction. I watched as her shaft—her penis, the penis I was licking, the penis I'd had inside me—bobbed and smacked against the underside of her belly. Softheart's repeated attention to my knockers felt great, but it served one thing very well—I was eager to return the favor.
Extending my tongue, I pressed it to the odd tip of her dong, and ran it slowly down her until I passed the ring again, then further to the fuzzy skin that wrapped the base of her dick. She had balls, of course, and they were so close to my snout I could smell her musk even stronger than before. Repeating my mantra about it not being gay, I nibbled gently at the skin around the base of her shaft.
It was like a popsicle. Yup, totally not a penis I was licking—nuzzling. Each time I touched it, no matter how, Softheart made a hungry noise. When she grunted and humped her hips, I slowed down and just nuzzled against the base a little more.
"Why'd you stop?" Softheart asked. I could hear a soft whine in her voice.
"I've seen your hair trigger, and I'm not ready for you to be done yet." I nuzzled the hard flesh where her fur met her penis and earned another whimper from her. "Do you want me to just finish, or keep playing?"
"Keep playing." Softheart's reply was quick, definite.
And, when I didn't start back quickly enough for her, I felt Softheart's tongue delve at my raindrop. With my engine revving thanks to her work, I nuzzled and warmed back to my task. Every time Softheart's body started to tense up, I backed off. It was a game to see if she would bring me before I made a mistake.
Playing along, however, got tiring. Softheart had my body singing with pleasure, almost at the edge of release, but she turned her attention to my thighs and the soft flesh surrounding my raindrop. I was ready to admit defeat, so rather than try anything fancy with her shaft, I instead shifted and rolled off the bed.
"Where are you—?" Softheart cut off her question when I turned my back-end to face her. I didn't need to shove my tail out of the way—my body had that covered already.
The first I knew of her presence was as she mounted me. It should have been terrifying for a red-blooded male to let someone do this, but horny and ready as I was, she slipped up my back and shoved herself inside.
My body sang, and my voice joined in. She shoved deep into me, that deceptively thin member feeling huge and real in a way that nothing else in the world did. I wanted to turn around and look her in the eyes, but her hips started pumping, and my world turned to a pink cloud.
Thoughts escaped me as Softheart's powerful hips slammed into my rump twice, then a hot rush deep inside shoved me firmer into my orgasm.
My whole body—from the tip of my nose to the last hair of my tail—caught fire. I howled, whinnied, and shoved back into Softheart, welcoming the pleasure she drove me to.
The amount of time it took her to thrust into me was nothing compared to how long I felt her hot seed blast into me. Each pulse of her heat into my depths made me cry out again in a deceptively high voice. Each release of seed inside me pushed me through another orgasm.
My legs gave out, folded, and delivered both of us to the floor. Softheart rolled sideways so that she was still inside me, but now we were spooned. Her forelegs wrapped around me—held me tight—and I was content to be the little spoon. Full, little spoon, that is.
"Wow." Softheart was breathless. I could feel her chest heaving to get air in and out of her lungs. "Just wow."
It felt good to have a lover say that, accompanied as it was with sounds of blissful exhaustion. I realized I'd let her have her way again, but everything about the situation felt good and right. In a haze of bliss, I nodded. "Definitely wow."
"I have—I've never had sex like that before. I've never finished in a mare, with a mare. I'm still going with wow." Softheart nuzzled at my ears and mane, and ran her hoof along my side.
Like so many times since winding up here after my car crash, I closed my eyes. Only, now I felt like I was delving an entirely different world…
… And I think I like it.
I looked down at myself. I was naked, sitting on the bed in Softheart's spare room, and there was a towel under me. A sea of soft blue fur spread down a toned chest and belly. Between my legs I had a little more than human-me had possessed, and I was a little eager to see how big I really was.
Go slow, Paul. Slow and steady and stay a guy. That's how it would work, surely. I only had to close my eyes to remember Softheart's ample chest. I could practically feel the tenderness of her body pressed against me.
When I reached a hand down and between my legs, I found what I wanted. I was hard, jutting, and when I touched my penis, I could feel not just how sensitive it was, but also how strange. I looked down to examine it, and saw that while it was almost human shaped, there was a pronounced ring about halfway along it, and the head was slightly flatter.
It was fine—normal for this world—and the feeling it sent to my brain was more than enough to encourage me to feed a sock over the end and start rubbing. I got a bunch of strokes in before I remembered The Plan. Slowing down, I felt the telltale heightening of sensation and stopped.
Was I shorter? Was my penis shrinking. Without touching myself, I felt the heat going out of me, the excitement of sexual arousal. I needed to keep my engine going, but not so much as I would change.
"Well, boys, we don't normally chat except when you're making things awkward, but I think you're key to this working." I brought my hand under my flagging erection and started rubbing my balls carefully.
I'd been too long between girlfriends and forgotten how good it was just to rub and roll my guys around in my hand. When I closed my eyes, I could imagine Softheart on her knees in front of me, giving me a great view down her shirt while she nuzzled at my scrotum.
Okay, now nuzzling had become part of my fantasies I really was getting into this world in a big way. When I thought of a girl, my brain immediately attached a muzzle, fur, and adorable ears. It also made sure she had amazing knockers too, but that hadn't changed.
Rubbing my balls for all I was worth, I closed my eyes and let the grunts building in my throat out. Each little hump I started making was punctuated by the bass sound of a masculine grunt. My free hand reached down and latched onto my dick and rubbed it—I almost filled the sock right away.
Imagining Softheart bracing her big boobs on each side of my shaft, I sped up. I couldn't control myself, pumping one hand and squeezing with the other. I tilted my head back as my climax approached, and as I felt it almost atop me, things changed.
That is to say, I changed.
My hands smooshed together into blunt hooves, and my shaft practically sucked into me like a pigeon into a airliner's engine. I made a high pitched moan before fumbling at the tender udder that was where my penis had been.
I was too far along. I didn't care that I was female now, or that I didn't have hands. I rubbed at my udder with one hoof and brought the other under what had been my crotch and found—found my vajayjay.
A clear, pure note of aural joy pierced the night. I didn't care how late it was, or that Softheart was likely sleeping in the next room—I came harder than a blue whale. Rolling back on the bed and squirming, I stroked at my body. I couldn't stop—I didn't want to stop.
I didn't stop.
Kinda losing track of my orgasms, I wound up flopped on the bed for nearly an hour while I stared up at the ceiling in mind-numbed shock. Masturbating would take more work, but I would get the hang of it eventually, or climax trying.
Reluctantly, I got up, made a trip to the bathroom to clean up, and then went back to Softheart's room to cuddle up to her. What can I say? Boobs are like a magnet for me.
When I woke up, everything felt like a dream. I was naked on the bed, curled around Softheart, and I had the usual result of mornings. I searched for what woke me, and when I felt her squirm in my arms, I squeezed Softheart's chest appreciatively.
"Oh. Now that's how to wake up. Dibs on the shower." She tilted her head to the side, rolled a little, and kissed me. "Now let go. I've got work today."
On the plus side I got to watch her stand up without a shred of clothing on, and walk past me. "Damn it. If you keep doing that, I'll be a mare again."
And, admitting those words out loud, my memories came back. All the details. Every lick. Every nuzzle. Every hip-slamming thrust.
The world stopped, and I stared at the ceiling in shock. Sex hadn't been scary since the first time I rubbed one out or the first time I'd gotten with a girl. Being the "girl" was a different thing entirely, but if Softheart was to be believed (and I couldn't for the life of me think why she shouldn't be), nothing bad had come of it but a lot of strange memories.
Was it really that easy to get caught up in the moment? This curse, while interesting, was a touch scary. I'd not only turned into a mare—several times—but each time it'd happened I'd completely and thoroughly enjoyed it. I felt satisfied, happy, and excited to have had fun, but nothing I could think on would erase the memory of slurping and sucking her cock.
Despite my contentment, my manhood felt challenged. I felt like I had a need to prove myself, to be more man than simpering and cock-hungry mare. Okay, in the dark parts of my mind I might be able to admit that being a cock-hungry mare had been fun, too, but I needed to do a manly thing. Or at least something to assert myself as not that mare.
In my time on Earth, I'd been taught by society what made something a manly thing. Sex was right out. That didn't let me assert my maleness one bit. Working was another tough one, but searching for work would help me feel more me. And, despite how it would normally be considered, cooking was always a manly thing to me.
Jumping to my feet, I traced my steps from the previous night and located pants. Pants were enough for now. My father had been a chef, and a damn good one. He'd been a big guy, and no one had ever dared call cooking woman's work within his earshot.
Digging in the chiller, I found some eggs. Combined with bread on the bench, and the spice cupboard's contents, and I slid into one of the manliest things I knew.
Some oil in the pan, stove was strange to work (it didn't seem like electric or gas, but kinda both) but I managed, and soon had two slices of bread in the pan toasting away with their middle hollowed out.
By the time Softheart came out, I was sliding the first two slices of egg-in-the-nest on a plate and before her.
"What is this? You can cook?!" Any further questions from her were silenced by one of the slices going into her mouth.
"And you can't. Don't worry, I saw how poor your spice collection is." I flipped the two next slices in the pan. "So. Where can a guy get a job in this town?"
"Mmm?" A woman with her mouth full of your cooking, my dad had told me, was a wonderful thing. "Oh, right. Well, you could check at the hospital. We often have odd jobs or seasonal work. By seasonal, I mean flu and hay fever season. You're welcome to come and ask reception."
"That sounds like a start," I said. "But… What about us?"
"What about us?" Softheart took another bite of her toast.
"I mean, I didn't really mean to imply that I wanted a relation—" I saw the mirth that painted Softheart's face as all the answer I needed. "Right. Just making sure we're on the same wavelength."
"Wave-what? Look, you're hot, you're a great lay, but I'm not looking for someone to spend time with long term. I don't mind you warming my bed, though," she said.
Friend, meet benefits. Okay, that wasn't something I'd expected when I crashed my car and (apparently only almost) died. Smoking hot girl wants to share a house and her bed, doesn't want relationship. Can I change my opinion? I think I did wind up in Heaven.
Well, the turning into a horse bit is still a little strange.
"Flattery will only encourage me more, you know?" I flipped my slices over in the pan and dusted on some nutmeg. "So, anyway, what happens with this heat thing, just so I know?"
"From what I know—remember, I'm a girl—the moment you change you're going to feel like you're on fire. Nothing will seem like a bad idea, and getting your stallion on your back will be all you can think about." Softheart took another bite of her toast, and I watched her close her eyes to enjoy it. It also gave me a good moment to ogle her some more.
I hadn't realized how much I was staring until Softheart chuckled. "You're really into breasts, aren't you?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" I didn't need to lie about it, and Softheart hadn't seemed to take any offense at my admiration. "Is there somewhere else I should be paying more attention?" It was, after all, only polite to ask.
"You know what, I've never been with a lover quite as explorative as you. Most mares just want to get off, get banged, and go to sleep. Having a guy who wants to explore, and even talk about what I might want?" Softheart shook her head and sighed. "I'm not going to keep you in my bed for long with an attitude like that. You're going to have girls ripping at your clothes to get you in bed. But, you know what? Kissing."
"Kissing?" I asked.
"Yup. Kissing. Did you notice how more intense everything feels as a pony? How awesome is kissing?" Softheart nibbled just the corner of her toast, looking over the top of it at me. "So, tonight, why don't we get all hot and pony, then spend a bit of time kissing, just exploring our mouths?"
The mare inside me perked up with interest, and wanted to ask if she'd still slam me after we kiss, but I had enough manly fortitude to keep her away from my vocal cords. "Sounds fun." I cracked an egg into each bread slice and thought back to what we had done. Okay, the mare had a point.
Did I really think that? I tried to focus on what I'd felt at the time, and not just how much I'd yelled for more. It had been different from every single sexual experience I'd ever had, but wasn't actually bad. It wasn't like she'd forced me, and who safer to have sex with than a nurse?
So, yes. I had no qualms with letting things get out of hand again, because it was fun. "Sounds really fun, actually."
It turned out they did need someone to do heavy lifting. I could do heavy lifting, which was good, so started immediately. My morning began with carrying heavy baskets of bedclothes from one table to a huge washing machine, washing them, and then pulling them back out again.
Mundane work, but I was apparently going to be paid for it. This was plenty to appease my masculine side that I was definitely a man. I was a bread-winner. I was also probably going to beg Softheart to rail me again—as soon as I turned pony.
"Hey! Paul isn't it?"
I turned my head at the male voice. It was one of the nurses, Tough Love. He was big, burly, and everything you'd never want to face in a fight, but he was a pretty cool guy, too. "Yeah. What's up?"
"Doctor Horse wants your help. Softheart said you'd be perfect for something he needs. Leave the linen, it'll keep for a day." Tough Love turned around, his body language implying that I should follow.
The hospital was less maze-like than the ones back on Earth, which meant that we reached Dr. Horse's office much sooner than I thought we would.
Dr. Horse looked me up and down before nodding. "Thank you, Tough Love, that will be all." He waited until Tough was out of the room. "Firstly, Paul, how are you feeling? Nothing hurting, out of place?"
Nothing but my vajayjay, Doc!
"A few confused moments, but I worked out how to handle everything. What's the problem?" I asked.
"I have a tricky problem. It's about Lyra Heartstrings." Dr. Horse gestured to a closed file on his desk. "She wants a baby."
My brain took a few moments to process the information, recontextualize it within the current world, and then find the trouble. "She wants a baby? Shouldn't she talk to her husband?" When Dr. Horse shook his head, I tried again. "Boyfriend?"
"She's a lesbian, Paul."
"Isn't this privileged information? She's a patient…"
"Lyra Heartstrings and Sweetie Drops got married two years ago. They don't hide the fact that they're quite mad about each other, and Lyra won't stop talking about wanting to hear the patter of little feet to anyone and everyone who will listen. If this is privileged information, then everyone in Ponyville is going down with me.
"That said, she wants a baby."
"How does that work? Is there something you can do to make her turn into a mare?" I asked.
"Not at all. That's the problem. We can do artificial insemination, but—Okay, I'll have to stop there. This is bordering on private information. I'll let Lyra explain that bit if she wants. What I need you to do, however, is to bore her," Dr. Horse said.
"Bore her?"
"Yes. I want her so turned off that when we squirt her wife's issue in, she'll be so completely bored and uninterested that the mark will be hit and she will become locked in by her pregnancy. Are you up to it?"
"Why me?" It was the—well it wasn't ten-million-dollars, but I was willing to pay at least a twenty to get to the bottom of this.
"Every nurse who attended you said one thing—you're a guy who won't shut up. You've met Tough, he'd be perfect, but he wouldn't know how to bore a woman if he tried. I could get one of my other doctors, but this is hardly worth their time."
"So why don't you do it, Doc?"
"I will be a little busy. Someone has to do the deed, as it were, and unless you have two letters after your name, that needs to be me."
I thought on it. This was silly but for one thing: this woman just wanted to have a baby. Pro-choice shouldn't be an argument, by my way of thinking. "Okay. So I just talk about baseball or something?"
"See! You're a natural!"
I stared at Dr. Horse with as much deadpan as I could inject into my muzzled and fuzzy face. "You're sure this isn't some kind of first-day-hazing?"
"Would you like to meet the patient?" Dr. Horse stood up and walked around his desk, then to the door. Opening it a whisker, he poked his head out. "Nurse? Can you send Misses Heartstrings?"
Thirty seconds later I had one of the hot lesbians that'd helped me the previous night, in preparing for Softheart. What's more, she had a great body. Firm, C-cup breasts, thighs you could happily die between, and a figure that almost (I said almost) put her ahead of Softheart. Softheart, however, had the better breasts—and we all know what that means to me.
Dr. Horse cleared his throat. "Paul here is not sure if he can help us, Lyra. Is there anything you could say that might convince him you're the real deal?"
Lyra turned to face me, and the bra that was supporting her breasts proved itself of superior make when I almost got lost in her cleavage. "Please, Paul. I just need a few minutes of your time. The doctor said you have a bit of a reputation for talking, and I just need a man to keep me from thinking about sex long enough to get pregnant."
Damn it, she was sincere. The idea was ludicrous, but it was consistently ludicrous with the way this world seemed to be. Taking a deep breath, I looked up deliberately at Lyra's horn. "I'll try."
Lyra, it seemed, was an excitable sort. She jumped to her feet and jumped toward me. Bending down so that my vision became lost in a crevasse of supple flesh, she wrapped her arms around me in a hug. "Thank you! Oh! Thank you so much!"
Paul, the hot lesbian hugging you is not into you, and her penis is probably just as impressive as her body.
The mental image I conjured was enough to put a (small) dampener on my libido. Damn it. I was supposed to be stopping her turning pony. "W-When are we going to breast—begin—the procedure?"
Standing up again, Dr. Horse ushered us through a side door to an attached procedure room. "Well, we could do it right now since we have everyone we need. Normally we'd get Granny Smith to help with this, but Lyra expressed her concerns that any other female present might make things worse. She's in heat, you see, so the slightest thing will set her off. Another woman would just—"
"Ix-nay on the ooman-way," Lyra said.
"Baseball!" I said. "I-I mean, do you have baseball in Equestria?"
Lyra walked up to the bed in the middle of the room and jumped up to sit on it. "Of course! It's just about the most boring thing—Oh gosh, Paul, you're good at this!"
"That's what I said!" Fitting stirrups to the bed, Dr. Horse looked about as enthusiastic as could be.
Rotating her hips, Lyra laid back on the bed and hiked her skirt up. Nothing. Zero. Zilch. Nada. That's what Lyra was wearing under her dress. "I came all prepared for this."
I scanned around and spotted the plastic seat on the other side of the room. Grabbing it, I pulled it over to the bed and sat down so that my face was at the same height as Lyra's. "Look at me, please," I said. "You don't know why, but you decided to come to a baseball game. All alone.
"Can I tell you a secret, Paul?" Lyra asked. At my nod she continued. "The problem is all this."
I looked around the room at her gesture. "This?"
"This! Ugh. Why does artificial insemination, bondage, and pregnancy have to be—like—my big three fetishes?" Lyra's head snapped down at the sound of a click, watching the doctor strap her ankles into the stirrups. "Ooooh…"
"Paul!" Dr. Horse said.
"It's the first innings, Lyra. Lyra, look at me. It's the first innings, and you don't know why you came, but you know what you realize?" When Lyra didn't respond to me, I repeated her name, "Lyra?"
"Oh. Uh…" Closing her eyes, Lyra let out a sigh like the doctor was doing something other than just preparing her. "W-What do I realize? Are there any cute girls there?"
"No. In fact, there's no girls there."
"What?!"
"Both teams are guys. There are guys in the dugout. And all the crowd around you…" I had her waiting on my words. "… guys.
"Someone walks past—a guy of course—and he's selling hot dogs." When Lyra perked up, I flailed. "I mean, uh—"
Dr. Horse interrupted me. "You're losing her, Paul. More banal and normal!"
"How can you tell?" I asked.
"She's growing a dick."
"Right." Stallion bad. Penis bad. She was a lesbian that loved cock. This world was messed up. "Okay, so the third innings passes, and Lyra?"
Biting her lip, Lyra turned toward me. "W-What?"
"They're out of hot dogs, Lyra. None at all. All they have are buns." I smiled at the look of shock on Lyra's face.
"You're doing it, Paul! Her penis is shrinking."
"The players come out for the forth, and you know what's happened?" I asked.
Lyra's face looked pleading. "Oh no. What now?"
"There's no ball either. You're stuck in the stadium with guys, and there's no hot dogs or balls. All the men are just looking around, even more bored than you are." I had this. I totally fuckin' had this! She looked more panicked than aroused.
"PAUL!" Lyra said. "Paul! I feel it inside me!"
"Damn it!" Dr. Horse stood up and turned away. "This isn't working."
I tried to watch the doctor, but with Lyra's position her penis was growing to resemble a flagpole. Ignoring the transforming lesbian's penis as much as I could, I leaned into Lyra's side and kissed her cheek. "Have you ever had a guy suck you off before?"
"WHAT?!" Lyra's shout was almost dwarfed by the doctor's, but while the former was staring at me in shock, Doc was staring between Lyra's legs.
"Whatever you're planning, keep going, Paul. I can see a labia forming!" Dr. Horse took up his position again.
"Lyra. I transform into a hungry little mare. I love to suck cock so much so that it goes into my tight vag. Mmmm. Give me another look at it, please?" Now I felt both desperate and dirty, and both for the exact wrong reasons. "Please? I just want to kiss it—look at it. Won't you—"
"Got it! It's in!" Dr. Horse's cry was triumphant.
Lyra Heartstrings looked down her body at the doctor, her eyes widening as she saw the device he'd used to impregnate her. "B-B-But. I'm…"
Clearing his throat, Dr. Horse reached out to pat at my arm. "Paul, let her go. We need to test this."
"I'm pregnant?" Lyra asked.
"Yes, Lyra. We used your wife's semen, you'll be having her child." Looking proud as punch, Dr. Horse drew his hand back from me. I didn't want to know where it had been. All I knew was that I was going to burn my clothes tonight.
Lyra moaned, and her hands reached down to rub her thighs. "That's amazing! Paul! You're the best!"
And then something odd happened. I felt burning heat in my thighs, and bright light seemed to shine at me from all around. I looked from Lyra's amazed expression to the doctor's jubilant one.
"What the fuck is going on?!" I asked over what seemed to be a choir of angels playing music. Magic took hold of me and floated me into the air.
"Paul! You're getting your cutie mark!" Lyra yanked her legs from the stirrups and turned around to gaze at me in surprise. "Oh gosh! What is it?"
"What do you mean? Doc! Help!"
Dr. Horse held up his hands in placation. "Paul. When someone finds their special talent, magic grants them an image on their thighs to represent it. Misses Heartstrings has her lyre and I have a stethoscope. What were you doing when this started?"
"You were right here! I was helping Lyra with her—her problem." The room was turning (or maybe it was me turning, bobbing in mid-air) and I soon had to turn my head to see Dr. Horse. "What is it? Can you see it?"
That's when my pants fell down.
Dr. Horse's face wore a look of shock that was mirror on Lyra's. The magic stopped, and I dropped to the floor unceremoniously. Twisting to look at my hip, I saw what seemed to be a translucent circle with little worms sticking into it. White worms. And the circle looked awfully like a round egg.
"Fuck."
Dr. Horse was practically bouncing up and down with excitement. "Exactly! Your special talent is—"
"Getting people pregnant! Paul! This is the best thing ever!" Lyra seemed just as excited as Dr. Horse.
Conception. I was a guy who turned into a female horse, and my special talent—the one thing in all the world that was apparently my specialty—was getting pregnant? I said a lot more swear words, none of them were fuck for obvious reasons.
Sitting in the kitchen of Softheart's house, I was done telling the story of my first day of work at the hospital. "And that's how I scored dinner with two cute lesbians."
"And why're you telling me all this?" Softheart's eyes narrowed at me, not that I took a heck of a lot of notice of them—she was wearing a literal nurse uniform that bulged out so much at her chest I was worried the top button would become a missile at any moment. Worried—and hopeful.
I sighed, lifting my eyes from Softheart's bountiful bosom. "Because they wanted a double—"
"Don't you dare say date."
"… dinner?" It was the best I could think of. "Look. We get to go out and eat somewhere nice for free."
Softheart's head jerked as if she'd been stung. She raised a slender eyebrow quite high. "If you'd just lead with free food, then we wouldn't have an argument. You can call it a date or whatever so long as the food is good and free.
"What time are we expected?"
"Uh. An hour."
An hour was plenty of time for a shower, but only if we were quick and took it together. It took a supreme effort of will not to spend the entire time in there washing Softheart's boobs, but she solved the problem by turning around for me to do her back.
Softheart gasped in surprise. "You got your cutie mark? Paul! Why didn't you tell me?" She grabbed me and turned me around so she could look at it. "What's it meant to be?"
"Did Doctor Horse say what I was helping him with today?" I asked.
"No. But he seemed extra excited at the end of the day. Just tell me. Is it something to do with removing worms from apples?"
I was about to say something I'd regret, but then a wonderful sight distracted me. A glorious, desirous sight. "Pregnancy. Conception. That." Only Softheart's excellent breasts calmed me enough to be able to talk.
"Wow. I guess you were lucky."
"LUCKY?!" It was hard to focus on her breasts now, too much anger. "How is this 'lucky'?!"
"Well, you could have gotten it last night."
…
I had no words. None.
Author's Note
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