Adventures in Multidimensional Dating

Chapters

The Exposition
The "Rising" Action
The "Climax"
Exposition: The Chapter
I Was Going Somewhere With These Chapter Titles

The Exposition

It had been a really long day.

"I understand that some of us on the team may be focused more on killing the enemies than pushing the objective, but c'mon fellas, this is a team-based shooter, and there is clearly a payload to move!" I tried to plead with my incompetent teammates, attempting to make them see reason, but unfortunately, everyone except me (and the Reinhardt I was pocketing) went off to the next chokepoint and got immediately killed. The Rein and I looked at each other and sighed. "I think I'm gonna need a break after this one."

"I getcha, fam. Shouldn't be too much longer now. I for one appreciate that someone's dedicated enough to main our lovable Egyptian Grandma." And with that reassurance, we stuck to that payload like glue.

I alternated between healing my pocket and casually melting the health bars of any who shot at my buddy. I had my ult, and so did he, but the rest of their team would probably decimate us anyways. As much as I loved that Cthulu-looking Zenyatta skin, he had been a pain in my ass for the entire game, and his ult would negate anything we threw at it. And Orisa and Bastion never make a good combo. The seconds ticked by. "Might as well use the-" But just then, our Reaper found their backline, and with a single press of Q, singlehandedly wiped out the entire enemy team. Miraculously, we had won.

"Welp, that's it for me. G'night, Jonnie."

"Night, Scerick. Man, I hate playing Rei-" and with that, Overwatch was shut down.

"Fuck my life. Fuck it with a white-hot branding iron. Wrapped in barbed wire. Why do I main her?" I lamented to nobody in particular. It was nearing eleven at night, and the residential authorities at Harpers Ferry Job Corps were bound to come in, checking to see if all our lights were out. Though I liked to live life dangerously (even though I was an Advanced Microsoft student, and thus a fat, lazy computer nerd), I didn't want to get in trouble. After all, Job Corps had done more for me than anything I'd ever experienced in my life. Well, except for Boy Scouts and Dual Enrollment, but really, fuck them. Boy Scouts was all paperwork and fundraising for assholes who didn't deserve it, and Dual Enrollment drove me batshit crazy. Sure, I earned Eagle Scout and got that glorified high school diploma in the end, but Job Corps would actually get me a job. Might even let me keep one for once!

Mental ranting's almost as exhausting as actual ranting, I concluded as I navigated my way over to Reddit. One last check of my PMs to see if I got anything from anyone, as well as a few memes to save to my Pictures folder, and then it was off to bed, to prepare myself for another hard day of studying for the A+. Maybe one of these days I might even pass that practice exam!

Something was off with Reddit. I'd bought myself a year of Gold, so I shouldn't have seen any advertisements. And yet a particularly annoying colorful square was flashing itself at me. It displayed to me a photo of some spiral armed galaxy, and it had the head and shoulders of a feminine pony grinning at the camera inlaid in the bottom middle. On either side of the galaxy came the words We know how lonely you are. Join us today, and meet someone new! It looked like some generic advertisement for some fake dating site for furries and bronies. I should know, as I'd fallen for several similar scams before. This thing looked no different. So I refreshed the page.

It didn't go away. This time, the pony's eyes followed me as I moved my head from side to side, inspecting my laptop. I looked at the ad, bemused. Why had it not gone away? Was it a virus? The idea seemed more and more likely, but Avast! hadn't picked up anything. I logged out of Reddit for the moment, thinking. What viruses can't be detected by something designed to find them, and then destroy them? That'd have to be a pretty damn good programmer. I logged back into Reddit.

The ad had changed again. Now the pony looked worried, and a little confused. The words had changed, too. They now said, Why haven't you clicked on me yet? Here I thought you were the adventurous type. That did it for me. I closed Chrome entirely, and then restarted my laptop. I tapped my fingers impatiently on the table. My fatigue had been tossed in the corner while I tried to solve this issue, but hopefully, this would have fixed it. I just needed to make sure that nothing else was wrong. A few more keystrokes slid me smoothly onto my main screen.

And then the ad popped up of its own accord.

It was almost completely different now. The galaxy had moved up to the top of the now screen-sized rectangle. It continued to spiral while the words Interdimensional Dating! flashed gently on top of it. The pony was glowering now, snout scrunched up in an admittedly cute expression. She had freckles along her cheeks, and her eyes flashed an impossible violet color. Her coat had a sharp shade of vermillion to it, and her mane was interlocking strands of emerald and chartreuse. Whoever this hacker was, they were either good at designing original characters or had enough money to afford a good artist. The mare wasn't positioned in such a way as I could see what her cutie mark was, but I would assume that it was galaxy-related, from the insistent way everything else flashed at me, and the overall space motif of the intrusive ad. The words on either side of the mare now read, Really! After all the trouble I go through to try to help you out by getting you a partner, you make halfhearted attempts to make me go away? Not on my watch, mister!

I stared at my screen. "Who are you?"

The mare smiled. More words appeared as the old ones faded. Who? Who is but the form following the function of what, and what I am is a mare in an advertisement.

I frowned. "You're quoting V for Vendetta at me."

Her smile widened. Your powers of observation serve you well.

I sat back in my subsidized government furniture. "So."

The mare tilted her head, confused. So?

"Not to sound rude or anything, cute pony virus that is in my computer, but, uh, how do I make you go away?"

She looked affronted at this. I am not a virus! Viruses hurt things! I was made to seek out those who need our services and offer them to that entity. Any entity across the multiverse! She blushed a little. I may have gone through your social media a little bit, but it wasn't anything too intrusive. I was just looking. I swear!

This thing was being honest with me, which was unnerving. I raised an eyebrow. "And your services are... dating?"

She nodded vigorously. Yup! All kinds of ponies from all across the dimensions have signed up! No furries or scalies, though. My creator hasn't figured out how to get to their worlds yet.

"Why would you sa- oh yeah, you went through my search history."

And your pictures folder. She blushed again. A lot of interesting things in there.

"So, how does it work?" This thing wasn't acting like a virus. Those things were direct and riddled with typos. While she was direct as well, she seemed more trustworthy. And that was the first law in Boy Scouts. I couldn't exactly get rid of her, either, so I might as well just ride it out.

She perked up considerably. All you have to do is click my snout, and we can begin!

I shrugged, moused over her snout, and clicked it. She went cross-eyed for a moment, then giggled, and promptly vanished. The logo on the top was still there, but it shrank a little. The mare had moved to a corner and was pointing a hoof at some boxes I could type into, and some familiar directions on top of them. A few were already filled out for me. The 'Male' box was already checked, as was my age selected as '20' and my location as 'Earth - Human'. "I assume you filled those out?"

Like I said, I looked through your social media. I hope you don't mind me expediting a few things here and there. As I scrolled further down, I noticed a few things that she'd selected for me that definitely made sense in that context. Gender Preferences had already been completed, with 'Female' and 'Hermaphrodite/Futanari' checked. Age Preferences had '18 to 30' selected, but also checked 'Impossibly Old and Ageless but Looks Like They're In Their Twenties'. For reference, next to this statement there was a picture of Princess Celestia, comically stuffing her face with cake and grinning sheepishly at the camera. Degrees of Humanity had 'Human', 'Anthropomorphic', and 'Pony' selected, but it also had 'Monster Girl (Situational)' checked as well. What hadn't she done for me?!

It turned out that there were only two left. 'What type of relationship are you looking for?' and 'Describe yourself!' were both left empty. There was no option to post a photo or a video. "What's up with the lack of photo and video posting capabilities?"

We want users to get to know each other without the whole 'judging a book by its cover' nonsense. We disable that until enough conversation is sent between users that the both of them can check the 'I like this user enough to want to meet them' box. That's where this comes in. Right next to me, something started to materialize. It was short and black, and looked like one of those things you buy from Netgear and you could hook up to your computer, and that would boost your wifi or some shit like that. It even had a USB drive. This is how you travel across dimensions. It scans your entire physical form, then it sucks you through and assembles you at your partner's home, right next to them. The same thing happens to someone who wants to visit you. That only becomes an option after you've seen their photo and/or video, and you both still like each other.

"That's... actually a fair system. I actually like what you have going here. Thank you for this!" And with that, I set to work describing myself and what I wanted. You pretty much already know the short version of the former, but the latter was a bit tougher to put to words.

Wait, who's even reading this? I'm just writing this down for shits and giggles, and as a record of all the events that transpired that evening, but who would actually read this? Or even my accounts of everything that followed? And why am I allowing myself to be distracted like this? I swear, if I didn't know deep down that this shit was real, I'd think I was seriously fucked up.

But yeah, I filled out both sections. It was pretty standard as far as what anyone would want from a partner: friendly, kind, loving, passionate. Looks didn't matter to me, though. It'd be hypocritical of me, the fat, lazy, acne-plastered fella, to judge based on appearance. I never did, and I never would, so I included that bit of info too.

I checked the time. Holy shit, it was two in the morning! I needed to go the fuck to sleep. I turned to the pony dating site version of Clippy and asked her, "Is this everything?"

She nodded. Go ahead and get some sleep now. I promise you that tomorrow will be the first day of the rest of your life! She squished herself against the inside of my monitor, trying to hug me goodnight. I reciprocated it with a grin, and then shut down my computer with a yawn.

It had been a really long night.

The "Rising" Action

Sometimes, you just don't want to get out of bed in the morning.

"ROLL CALL!"

This was one of those mornings.

As much as my head wanted to stay firmly planted on my pillow, our residential advisor demanded that we wake up at six in the morning every weekday, and I had stayed up way too late last night, what with that cute, as of yet unnamed pony virus and all the bullshit she brought with her. After a couple minutes of tossing and turning, I had finally been able to pass out. Now it was time to return to my normally scheduled drudgery: proving to a system that doesn't give a flying fuck about the people in its care that I have learned what it was trying to teach me.

In short, I was an Advanced Microsoft Certified Solutions student, and I was trying to earn certifications.

"ROLL CALL!"

I groaned and got to my feet as quickly as I could. My head swam and my vision darkened, but it eventually cleared. I didn't have time to deal with the sleepers in my eyes or that weird white stuff that forms in the corners of your mouth: I had to get my ass out of my room immediately, or ~~face summary execution~~ ~~bring shame and dishonor to my family for generations to come~~ get marked down as absent without leave and sent home. That wouldn't do, what with six thousand dollars in combined student loans and credit card debt to pay off, and my parents breathing down my neck from afar the whole while. It was imperative that I get up in the morning and have my name "called".

The inept fat fuck responsible for making sure we had survived the night started calling our names. As he went down the list, and he came closer to my name, I found myself impatiently tapping my foot. Eventually, he got to my room.

"CODY!"

"Here." The Muslim with the pink weeaboo sweater slunk back into our room. He was always one for sleeping and long-winded one-sided conversations about his various interests. He was nice to me, so I tolerated it.

"CONNOR!"

"Here." His long locks of luscious straw-colored hair bounced around him as he pushed our heavy door aside, going back to his smartphone to look at the memes his friends on Discord had sent him overnight. I didn't quite know how to feel about Connor. Sometimes he was an awesome dude who was fun to hang out with, exchange furry and pony porn with, or otherwise engage in snark combats. Other times he was an asshole who only wanted to believe in his own lies. I still liked him, though.

"VIKTOR!"

"Here." My black roommate slunk back into our room, gathering his towels and shampoo. He loved his showers. I loved watching him get out of them. I had never questioned my sexuality and my preferences before I met my toned, muscular, friendly roommate with a good sense of humor and an enjoyment of that old Avatar: The Last Airbender cartoon. I was still pretty sure I liked women and futas, but holy shit. I watched him leave, barely able to contain my covetous glance towards his arms and chest. Now, it was my turn.

There was a long pause, then, "SEEDRICK!"

I sighed, "SER-ik, sir," and went into my room with the rest of my roommates. At six feet four inches, I was taller than most of the students in our dorm, but because of my shitty posture and general cowardly attitude towards human interaction, I looked smaller than I actually was. My face, arms, and chest were so riddled with acne that it looked like someone had dipped a paintbrush in various shades of white, yellow, and red and had attacked me with it. No matter how clean I got, no matter what creams I bought, they'd always be there, and I couldn't exactly afford a dermatologist on a fifty dollar a month stipend. I also have a mild form of Asperger's Syndrome, so I'm a little weird, and I couldn't see for shit without my glasses. At least those two parts didn't change throughout all my travels.

I fell onto my bed, which was (funnily enough) the bottom bunk to Viktor's top bunk. All of us had made various jokes about this to him, and he laughed them off. I looked down at my bedsheets, crumpled and disheveled as they were, and glowered at them. Job Corps had this... thing about making our beds in the morning, and always used that one speech from some guy in the Navy to illustrate why. Coming back to a bed that's made didn't fill me with nearly enough relief as that asshole had promised. And nor, for that matter did opening my laptop and booting it up to discover that the cute pony virus had been waiting for me. Good morning! Did you sleep well?

My response was intelligent and well thought out. "BWHAAA!" I flailed on the spot, hitting my head against the underside of Viktor's bed. The resulting cacophony of noises had everyone in the room turning to me. "I'm fine, I'm fine." I clutched my head, grumbling. Of course the virus was still there, and of course it was still being friendly to me. "Fuck my life! And my head. Fuck my head, too."

The pony tilted her head in concern. Are you sure you're okay? You don't look so good.

I waved her and my roommates off. Once my roommates had gone back to whatever it was they were doing (I neither knew nor cared), I faced the virus. "Sorry 'bout that. So, how can I help you?"

Her smile took up half of my screen. You already have messages from other users!

I did another double take, but carefully, so as not to hit my head again. "I have messages? From overnight?!"

Yup! From other users!

My face contorted into an expression of mingled excitement and suspicion. It felt really weird. "And I can read them, and then respond to them? For free?"

"What are you doing?" Connor had sidled over to see what I was excited about. I was about to answer, but the virus, and all that came with her, had abruptly vanished. I hadn't even typed any simple DOS commands to get rid of her, either.

"Well, I was reading more clopfiction, and there had been some exciting story developments. Who knew that people who write porn also write a genuinely good story to go along with it? So go walk into a freezer and, like, chill, bro."

"Alright." He didn't sound entirely convinced, but he let me be

I turned back to my laptop, which showed the dating site again. Didn't I already explain all of this to you? The pony's smile had gone from excited to tolerant.

"Well, I was up pretty late last night," I answered, more quietly this time, "so forgive me for not really remembering much of what you said to me."

If that's what you're worried about, I have the logs of our conversation.

"Of course you do. You're a virus. You're supposed to monitor and steal my information."

She actually lost the smile and frowned at me. How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not a virus?

"As many as you like! Just know that I'll never believe you." Did I really have to drip with condescending sarcasm just then? No. Did I do so anyway? Yes.

I know how I can prove you wrong, but you'll have to wait until all your friends are gone. I take up a lot of space. She had gone back to smirking now.

"Aha! You said you take up a lot of space! You are a virus! Let me double check just to be sure." I navigated through my file directory and went into the amount of storage I had left on my C drive. What I expected to see was one hundred forty-eight gigs of storage left, and another three hundred fifteen gigs left on my boot drive. Instead, I had six hundred gigs of storage left, and my computer ran smoother than it had in a long while. Everything was organized. My porn was filed by fetish and sub-fetish, and my memes by subreddit and 4chan board origin. I looked up at the damned fucking pony on my screen, who had the good sense to look sheepish. "What. Did. You. Do."

I just fixed a couple things. You were using too much space for a boot drive, and you had a bunch of bad stuff clogging up your computer. So I, uh, made some room. All your games, pictures, documents, and videos are still there. They just take up a lot less space now.

I visibly relaxed. This thing really was being good to me. "Sorry. It's just, this computer is more important to me than I am."

Did she just try to snort derisively? I can certainly tell.

"So," I began, trying to get the conversation back on track, "you said I had messag-"

"BATHROOM CLOSES IN FIFTEEN MINUTES. GET YOUR DETAILS DONE!"

"That's my queue. I'll be back in a couple minutes."

Bye! She waved her hoof at me as I closed my laptop and let it go into sleep mode.

Twenty exhausting minutes of scrubbing hairs and bacteria out of the shower stalls later, I was running late to breakfast. "Shit shit shit shit shit!" I slid on my dilapidated trench coat and straightened my sheets as best as I could, and then hurried out of the dorm, laptop and power cord firmly in my grasp. At least I wouldn't be overheard if I were in the lunchroom with everyone else, eating my shitty subsidized breakfast. Sure enough, it was loud as fuck in there. People were blasting rap music, conversing, or watching YouTube videos. I picked an empty corner where I knew I wouldn't be disturbed and parked my ass there. Nobody sat with me, not even my friends, so I knew I wouldn't be bothered.

The lid to my laptop came open, and my password was entered. "We won't be overheard now. How do I check my messages?"

The mare pointed a hoof at the top left corner. 'MESSAGES' was highlighted in red, and a number seven was circled. Even as I pondered opening the tab, the seven became an eight, and then a nine. "I can't actually be that popular."

It's probably because you're human. Your profile also comes across as funny, intelligent, and caring: all things that a mare looks for in a stallion. One of the things that I had the most skill in was presenting myself in a positive manner. My mask hadn't slipped, and neither had the smile plastered on it. Of course, I am biased. After all, I live on your computer now. Even if the website goes away, I'll still be here. Unless my plan works, but that won't be for a while.

"Might as well start with the oldest first" A couple clicks away was destiny, if that was even her name. And I was determined to meet her, and show her just how fucked up in the head she was for putting me in this situation.

'Read DDj's message? Y/N.' Did I want to read it right away, or did I want to read this DDj's profile information first?

... yeah, I was gonna read the profile first. No sense talking to someone you don't know yet if you don't know absolutely anything about them, either. It'd give me the upper hand in conversations and flirting. Or at least, I hoped that this would be the case.

As soon as the page loaded, I began to read.

What I saw, shocked me.

The "Climax"

Hey there, fellow Multi! Thanks for stopping by to read my profile! Thanks also to the pony that showed up on my computer as I was doing some work on it. If it weren't for her, I wouldn't be writing this right now! She told me to describe myself, so here I go. I'm DDj, and I'm a dubstep musician. My work is, as my roommate and best friend would say, "charitably popular, dear." I make ends meet, and have fun while doing so. Sometimes I sell my work to a label in Canterlot. Sometimes I play them at the raves that I either host or attend. Occasionally I can convince my friend to get that stick up out of her ass and do a collab. Her cello does wonders for my work, and it sells like fresh hay bacon at a diner - really quickly! I tried to dabble in writing at some point, but it's more of a hobby than a career. Really, writing is just the best form of communication. Music is something that gets you pumped up and ready for action, but simple conversations, whether written or spoken, is more soothing. It helps your soul out with your vibes, or whatever. Point is, I like talking. Not as much as, say, the baker in Sugarcube Corner, but I don't think anypony talks as much as Pinkie Pie does.

So I guess that's just about everything! Music, conversing, all that ~~jazz~~ dubstep. Here's hoping I've caught your attention! Either that, or... you caught mine.

I finished reading the first messenger's 'About Me!' section and turned to the pony following along as I read aloud. "I attracted the attention of someone from another world." I then looked up at the ever increasing number next to the 'Messages' button. It had risen from eight to forty-two, all in the span of an hour. Were humans that appealing to beings from other dimensions? Apparently, the answer was a resounding 'oh fuck the hell yes'. "And more than one world, too."

She beamed at me. See? I told 'ya you'd make new friend and find a partner! Maybe it's this one! Read the next section so we can find out together!

I scrolled down to the next section of this DDj's profile: 'Looking For'.

Wow. I guess you really are serious if you're reading this section. Well, good for us! It means you've got a head on your shoulders, and it isn't about to stop functioning.

But what do I want out of a partner that wasn't already emphasized in the previous section?

Let's get the obvious out of the way: I want someone who's into music. Not only dubstep, though that's a huge bonus if you are. I can get all sorts of inspiration from other genres. Another thing that goes hoof in hoof with this is somepony who likes to try new things. Somepony adventurous, who steps out of their comfort zone just because they can. I want somepony who cares enough about me or whatever it is that's going on in my life to be involved in it, even if it's only talking about it.

And the last thing I'm looking for? The reason why I like writing and typing so much is that it's because I can't talk. I'm a mute. It's a disability I've learned to cope with, though it's given me some trouble at times. It fucks me up to confess this on a fucking dating site, but it's as much of a part of me as my music. I'm looking for somepony with their own disability, or otherwise, somepony that can look past my inability to speak and see me for the pony I am.

Wow. This is some deep shit. Heh.

Yeah....

I looked up from the screen again. "This pony... is me. She sounds just like me." The pony avatar looked at me with concern in her eyes. "The resemblance is uncanny. I have got to read her messa-"

"Hey, Longcope." Cody slid into a seat across from me, breakfast tray in hand. "You still interested in being gay on a boat with me?"

I looked around my laptop at him. My last name was the only part of my name he could pronounce. "Not now, Cody. The Navy can take my ninety-four ASVAB score and shove it. Got important shit to do today. And besides, they'd never take me. You know I have Asperger's, and you know I'm fat and can't see for shit without my glasses, and yet you think I should - and can - join you anyways!" I pointed a finger at him. "Your. Recruiter. Is. Lying. To. You."

"Okay, okay! Geez, take it easy, Longcope."

"Sorry. It's just... I'm kinda busy trying to figure out how I'm gonna deal with Reaper now that his lifesteal's been buffed to shit, and it's getting to me. Overwatch makes me passionate, y'know?" Lies and I were peas in a pod. Sometimes my smiling mask slipped a little, as it had here, but for the most part, I was able to keep it superglued to my face. And boy had it helped me.

"Yeah. You and Jonnie have that in common. Anyways, see you later. I'm off to go cut some morning wood." Cody was in Carpentry, a reasonably well-attended trade at Harpers Ferry Job Corps. He had told me once that he'd joined Carpentry because when he first arrived on center, he saw how all the computer students looked like zombies, and he felt that he could be a zombie in the Navy more easily. Solid logic.

But logic wasn't what I was focusing on right now, for what I was focusing on was inherently illogical. This woman, this mare, had realistic flaws. She sounded like she was a very interesting character to roleplay with. And that's when it hit me: this wasn't a dating site: it was a roleplaying site! Designed to look like a dating site so it could bring in more traffic, invited by an invasive virus embedded in some spam email I forgot I'd opened. That had to be it. I might as well play along, but I've already established my "character" as a human. Self-inserts being frowned upon by the general community, I didn't expect to get this kind of response. Wait, am I still monologuing? Shit.

I looked around and found Cody looking over my shoulder. "Pony stuff, eh?"

I shrugged. "Sorta. I'm not really sure what's going on here, but I'm working with it. Looks kinda like a roleplaying site."

"Yeah, well, don't let that distract you. You and Connor had the highest ASVAB scores on center."

I scoffed. "He doesn't want to have anything to do with the military. And besides, we tied, but he got the better Mechanical score." I was still salty that I'd taken the test proctor's advice and Christmas tree'd my Mechanical Knowledge section on her promise that she'd throw away my test if I got above my previous score of eighty-eight. A week later I'd been handed my new score of ninety-four, and for the most part significantly better scores on the rest of my lineup. Apart from that last one. I had thought that I'd do worse, not better!

My freakout in class was understandable to any sane person, but everyone around me was baffled. 'You got a ninety-four? They're gonna be eating you up!' But they didn't understand how many jobs I'd want would require a good score in that one section, and how badly I'd screwed up my chances of getting those jobs.

Cody broke me out of my self-destructive thoughts. "That may be true, but you're the one that's actually applying himself. You're not lazy."

That was rich, coming from a guy who slept all day and made the bare minimum effort in everything he had to do. I gave him a look that clearly conveyed this, but he just laughed and walked away with his now empty tray.

I looked back at the virus, who had gone back to her usual cute animations now that only I was observing her. Read her message! You know you want to.

I sighed, exasperated. "Not right now, damn it. I need to get to class. I'll deal with all this," I gestured to the messages collecting on my main screen, "later." And with that, I closed the lid to my laptop and carried it out with me to class.

My corner of the classroom was largely unoccupied, so I had a modicum of privacy. At last, I could get on with my work. I could take as many tests as possible. I could ignore all that and write a silly fanfic about how much I think my life sucks and cover it up with porn later on.

I could be interrupted by Mrs. Ford, the crazy lady from Education, coming over to my desk. "Hey, you." She pointed at me. "I need you to come see me later, at around three."

I tilted my head, confused. "Why?"

Mrs. Ford waved off my question like it wasn't anything to take seriously. "Navy recruiter wants to talk to you."

"... Wut."

"You remember that now, and make sure you don't forget!" She fixed me a stern look. "I don't want no asshole student talkin' to this fella."

She walked off to talk with other students and my instructor, leaving me baffled. Shit, really?! Holy fuck! I might actually be able to get out of this shithole! It was then that I noticed the weird network thingy still plugged into my laptop, which the virus said would transport me to other worlds at the right moment. Perhaps that's what's keeping the virus stuck in my computer? I grasped it firmly and pulled! But it wouldn't budge.

My computer made a 'bloop!' that sounded like it was from that roleplaying site the virus downloaded on my computer. I lifted the lid on my laptop to discover the pony was frowning at me. This again? Seriously? Just read her message already!

I glared at the damned thing and shut down my laptop completely. I then grabbed the nearest pack of screwdrivers and took them and my laptop to the magnetic hard drive wiper. I hadn't tried everything in order to get rid of her and her fucking roleplaying community, and I would have no part in it. Especially when a new lease on life was headed my way!

Screwdrivers in hand, I turned the laptop over, exposing its belly. I couldn't help grinning, imagining the death of this annoyance. the pieces were in place, and all I had to do was unscrew my case and take out my hard drive. But to my indignant consternation, it wouldn't come out. I checked to make sure that I had the right measurement, and indeed I did. I went at it again, and again, no dice.

There came another notification sound. This time, when I opened the lid, she was livid. Her pupils had turned to comical daggers, and smoke was rising up around her. Fires burned at her hooves, and her teeth were clenched in rage. You are, by far, the most difficult person I have EVER worked with!

Well... fuck. "You're not a virus."

You think?!

I shook my head, possibilities running through but going nowhere. I leaped upon the only reasonable conclusion I could reach. "You've got to be some kind of ghost! Yeah, that's it. You've possessed my laptop, and you're haunting me. Why you want to haunt me with a fucking dating site is beyond me, but I think I can fix this."

She laughed. Obviously, I couldn't hear it, but it looked like she was going off the deep end. Oh, so I'm not allowed to be altruistic? To look out for you? And this crackpot theory about me being a ghost! She fixed me another narrow-eyed glare. I. Am not. A ghost. I'm not a virus. I'm not a visual hallucination. I'm not here to fuck you over. I'm here. To. Help. You.

I sighed, and most reluctantly put my laptop back together, returning the tools to their designated storage areas. Once all that was done, I collapsed in my chair and faced this pony in my computer. "Then why me? Why did your... creator choose me, above any other more highly qualified human, to date ponies? Or try to, at any rate."

The fires behind her burned away to nothing, her anger turning back into the patient kindness I had come to expect of her. She wouldn't tell me, and dodged all of my questions.

"You... don't know?" She shook her head. "Then - I- ugh!" How could I feel so angry and so tired at the same time? I watched as my hands shook before my eyes, and I felt an overwhelming urge to rub my face. I couldn't just take this shit at face value! Something had to be fake about all this.

She seemed to sense that I hadn't quite let go of my denial just yet. Look, even if I were something bad, then why would I have infected you with something that hasn't harmed your computer? Why did I make your computer run better? Why have I done nothing but good ever since I showed up?

I scoffed. "I can't explain that, because I'm not you. We can never really put ourselves in another person's shoes because we aren't them. We don't know their habits, their emotions, their background, their motivations. We know nothing about them other than what they let us see, and even then we're clouded by our own judgment of who they are. Beyond you fixing my computer and fixing me partners in alternate worlds, I don't know anything about you other than you being the pony in my computer who was sent to me for inscrutable reasons."

She blinked. That was well thought out. Huh.

"Weird philosophical shit goes through my head when I'm in the shower, and I'm not beating off or beating myself up about my past or my future."

She smirked. We already established that you need a marefriend. No need to lay it on thicker.

I shrugged. "Ask stupid questions, dot dot dot." A few clicks later, I was at this DDj's profile page again. The colors hadn't changed at all, but nobody was looking my way. I turned to the pony again. "Some sort of 'ignore me' power of yours?"

Yup!

Well, that answered that. What was I supposed to say to this mare? What did she want from me? Why did she care? Was I, as I had previously thought, merely a human fetish? I blinked and then facepalmed. I didn't read her message, so I wouldn't know any of that. You fucking idiot. So I went back to the 'Messages' section - holy fuck that was climbing quickly - and opened up her message.

Hey! I know I'm probably gonna be one of the bajillions of mares here that messages you (you being human and all, and how few humans there are on this site playing a huge part in it), but welcome to the Multi community all the same. My roommate and I had this list of questions we wanted to ask you, but it kinda got lost among all of her papers and her instrument. She was off in a hurry. Some big concert or something. I know how that feels, but it doesn't make it any less inconvenient.

Am I rambling? I think I'm rambling.

Anyways, I'm a mute unicorn who plays dubstep at raves for a living. Though if you're sensible like I think you are, you read my profile and you already know this. I read yours before typing this and I know it sounds cliche as fuck, but I like what I see. You're devoted, you're compassionate, and you need a friend right now. At least, more of a friend than just that mare on our computers. Which is why I'm typing this to you because I wanna be that friend.

Oh! Tavi just got back from her concert. Says she found the list we made, too! But it only has two questions on it. So, uh, might as well ask them. What kinds of music do you like that humans have made? Tavi'd love some samples. Don't tell her I said this, but she's a bit too into her music theory, and she's always experimenting with that cello of hers and whatever music she can get her hands on. Lastly, what are your theories on who this "creator" is that the mare on our computers told us about? Who is she? What does she want? Why me, and why us? I mean, not like I'm complaining or anything. I have a good thing going with Tavi, but... well, if you ever come over to my world, you'll understand why I don't know why I might have been chosen. For now, suffice it to say, it's some weird biology thing that gets me more ostracized than usual, apart from my raves. I'm popular for my music, but I really only get along with my closest friends. like I said, you'll understand if you get here.

I'm rambling again, and now I sound desperate. lol.

Hope to hear from you soon!

Wow. This gave me a lot of information that her profile didn't, and also provided some theories to go along with them. She was a unicorn. There were very few humans on the website and confirmed my suspicion of a human fetish, which explained me being bombarded with messages. DDj's roommate, Tavi, seemed to be more into DDj than she let on. After all, they made a list of questions to ask me. Perhaps Tavi was one of the 'closest friends'? And speaking of which, this DDj wanted to be my friend first. I thought what I'd written in my profile was honest, but not too honest. I didn't mean to pour my heart out! But apparently, I had.

That reminded me of the time I was playing a Ranked Competetive mode in Overwatch, and I was on voice chat, and someone eventually had the balls to say that my voice made them want to kill themselves. Not because my voice sounded bad or I was a squeaker or anything, but because, and I quote, 'you sound like your trying to be happy, but your actually really sad'. That had floored me. Naturally, I'd been all spluttery, before finally asking, 'how do you people get so perceptive?'

This Tavi was really into music too, so it seemed more and more possible that she was one of DDj's 'closest friends'. She wanted to know what kind of music humans liked, ostensibly to sample for her studying. She was a band geek who enjoyed music theory and probably played her cello professionally. Was this concert she went to in her hometown or was it somewhere farther away? Did she make enough to support herself, and just wanted her friend there to live with her, or did she actually need DDj's extra substantial income? How stable was their universe's music industry?

DDj was curious about the identity of the "creator" too, but not enough to give up her relationship with Tavi. Did they both have the same "weird biology thing"? How many others had it? Was that why they were their friends? So many questions. So many theories.

This was due for a response.

You sound happy enough with your roommate. What good would little old me bring you? I mean, aside from my human music, lol.

There we go. If I drive away everyone who could possibly hurt me, then I'll never get hurt. Solid logic, solidly applied here. I nodded to myself in satisfaction, hitting 'Send' with the finality of an executioner. Now I could finally get some classwork done!

Fate, however, had other ideas. Really? You're just gonna blow her off like that? The pony fixed me a disapproving glare. Sweet merciful Luna's tits you're hopeless. But then we blinked as another notification bloop sound, this time accompanied by 'DDj replied to your message!'

"Oh come the fuck on!" Against my better judgment, I clicked on it.

You're trying to deflect me, but it won't work. ;) Tavi and I are best friends, and we could go further if we wanted to. But I'm looking for something more than my best friend's tits, no matter how lovely they may be.

lol, she's blushing now.

But if you're sure you're so little and old, why not exchange pics with me? 'cause I'd rather believe what your profile said, about you being tall and young. :P

And there beneath the message was a button I could press that hadn't been there before: 'Exchange Picture!'

What. The fuck.

Exposition: The Chapter

The ban didn't even last an hour.

Creator begrudgingly admitted to us that the other admins had gotten on her ass for banning me so frivolously, and allowed my first pony waifu to exist outside of the platform she was created for. "Oh, but Scerick? If you ruin her life? You'll get a lot more than just a ban coming to you." And on that happy note, Creator left our lives alone for the foreseeable future.

I was back in my dorm room, casually petting my soft, silky marefriend, who was napping in my lap again. I don't know what it is about ponies and their tendencies to act like cats, but it's just fucking adorable. But even as I pet her, I couldn't stop my worries from running loose. What if someone sees her? Can she guarantee that I'm the only human who can see her? Will I only ever be the one to see her, human and pony alike? What if-

"Oh, Scerick," one of the future loves of my life mumbled in her sleep, "of course I'll marry you. You... 'n your head scritches... 'n your futa friends... no dress, though. No... no clothes... 'm a pony, 'member?" Accompanying this was the cutest smile I'd seen on her muzzle thus far. I needed about fifteen hundred cc's of insulin after watching that little performance.

But something she'd said in her marriage dream came back to me: 'your futa friends'. I had yet to message DDj back and tell her how much I liked the video, and how sexy I thought she was. I also needed to look at that other picture she sent me, the one of her, Tavi, and Twi. Since I watched the show, I highly suspected that these two would be Octavia Melody and Twilight "Just call me Twilight!" Sparkle, Princess of Friendship, Avatar of Magic, and Governor of Ponyville. Or at least, that's what I mockingly called her whenever I watched an episode when she was being particularly ridiculous. And from what DDj (double deejay, I finally got the joke... heh) was telling me, I'd probably be subject to any and all manner of questioning and welcoming with various essays written by her to help welcome me to Equestrian society. At least DDj, er, Vinyl Scratch (or did she want to go by her stage name, DJ Pon-3? These were questions I needed to ask her, and not ask myself.) was being more realistically helpful and friendly.

Ah, fuck it.

I navigated back to the 'Messages' section and popped back on to continue my conversation with her. But before I did that, I'd need to read what she thought of me, as was indicated by the numerous messages. "Ooooh, you look nice! Though that suit can't be too comfortable for you. You look like you're one of Pinkie's chimicherrychangas: full to bursting with lots of good stuff! Are clothes normal for humans? The most we style ourselves with is hats, shoes, gloves, and jewelry. Predominantly hats and shoes. Our fur coats don't take too kindly to being rubbed up against by anything, and clothes are considered formal anyways. It's why I wore my best gloves and shoes in that video: I wanted to look as presentable as possible, and that's probably what you're doing here, too. Though occasionally something comes out that covers more of the body, pretty much only exposing a mare's cock and breasts.

"Weird, I know. I mean, a clothing fetish in a nudist society?

"But yeah, even though you may be waaaaaay overdressed for the occasion, and I could readily assume that you're gonna be wearing that when we first meet face to face, I know it's probably your upbringing that's making you wear that and not some weird fetish. I'll get you out of those clothes eventually.

"Also, cute glasses. They match your cheeky grin. You look like you're about to burst into laughter. Pinkie's definitely gonna like you.

"Heh, speaking of which, here she is now, ranting about how she hasn't 'met a new friend yet'. Probably referring to you. Since she's here, and she's in my small circle of friends, I might as well re-do that picture I sent you to include her in it." Sure enough, a quick glance at the materials DDj had supplied to me for my... viewing pleasure... revealed that the original photo was deleted, and a new one had replaced it.

After a couple minutes of waiting (presumably during the time I had finished the video and was sobbing underneath my desk), she had asked, "You've been watching that short video for a long time there. Are you okay?

"Wait, where did that helper mare go? She just disappeared right off of my computer! One moment we were chatting about you, and the next she had this anguished look on her face, and then she was gone. Did you have something to do with that?"

The next message came approximately fifteen minutes later. "Okay, now I can't access your page, and yet somehow I can still send this message, so I hope it reaches you. Apparently, you've been banned by 'Creator (ADMIN)'. Now I'm not the smartest pony in our universe. That distinction goes to Twi. But I can put two and two together to make four. The computer mare vanishing, plus you getting banned by this 'Creator' guy... when do I get to meet her? Actually meet her, rather. She was so cute! Especially when she was talking about you, and she liked me and my friends, too. When you come over to our world (not if, when), bring her along too. I don't doubt that she'd be welcomed into our herd as much as you would be. For now, I'll wait for you to be unbanned. Best of luck to you! <3"

Our herd? This brought in a staggering amount of questions that I didn't have the time to answer. Now that I had returned fresh from my ban, she messaged me again. "Hey!"

"Hey yourself. Sorry for the holdup."

"No worries. Shit happens."

My chuckle was humorless. "Yeah."

"So," she began, "what did you think of me?"

My hand started shaking again, but I glared at it, willing it not to do me wrong again. It obediently hovered above the keyboard on my laptop as I typed. "Well, you certainly weren't what I was expecting."

"Is that a good thing?"

Again, I hesitated before answering. "Yes, but it leaves me with a metric fuckton of questions. Ones I'm sure that this friend of yours, Twi, would be able to answer."

"She's hovering over my shoulder right now, taking notes on your speech patterns and your physiology. Heh, and now she's bouncing up and down about the prospect of being your 'cultural advisor'."

"I bet it's doing wonderful things to her breasts, huh?"

"You have nooooooo idea."

That reminded me of something. "That reminds me of something. I have yet to look at that picture of the four of you. So, uh, I'll be right back."

"Yeah." I could imagine DDj's eyes following the movement of Twilight's tits as she typed at me. "You go do that."

And on that note, I closed the chat window and moseyed back on over to the as of yet unopened photo. My fucking hand was shaking again as I hovered my mouse over the image link, but it was getting easier to ignore as I desensitized myself to my experiences thus far. Depicted were four anthropomorphic futa ponies, each of them recognizable as the pony I suspected they were when I heard their nicknames. Around Vinyl Scratch's (DDj's) shoulders were the arms of Octavia Melody (Tavi) and Pinkie Pie (Pinkie). Vinyl Scratch had her arms crossed under her breasts, grinning slyly, while her dick rested limply against her navel. Her horn was glowing, so I felt like I could safely assume that she was the one who took the picture by levitating the camera. Her shades had moved a little bit down her snout, adding to the overall mischievousness her body language was giving off. None of this had stopped her tits from continuously leaking either, as evidenced by the milk having adjusted to running down her arms by the time she took the picture.

Octavia, by contrast, didn't look like she was actively trying to be sexy. She just was. Because she was an earth pony and not a unicorn, she was taller than Vinyl, and had some well-developed muscles to match her figure. She wasn't a full-on muscle girl fetish, though. I was sure that other earth pony mares would beat her in any competition of strength. Strength wasn't her specialty: music was. Behind her and in a corner in the back of the room rested a cello against its stand, its bow fitted in a special slot to its side. There was some sheet music on a stand in front of it, and a worn cushy-looking easy chair looked like it had been prepared to be used by her for a practice session. Perhaps my conversations with Vinyl had gotten her to a point of excitement where she couldn't concentrate on her instrument? But this theory was contrasted by her facial expression. She looked like she was enjoying herself, only with a modicum of control over her emotions. She looked like she felt good, but didn't feel the need to express it as much. Her calm smile was mirrored in her body language: an easygoing lean against Vinyl's chair and shoulders, dick poking out of her sheath. Did she find me that good-looking? And of course, coinciding with what seemed to be the theme of this little group, she too was leaking milk constantly. Her grey coat gleamed with it as it flowed forth from her. The cummerbund bowtie collar thingie on her neck was there, though I couldn't shake the feeling that there was more of a reason for it looking like it never really left her neck than her being a lauded musician with the Royal Canterlot Orchestra. I supposed I'd get my answer from her later. Her dick and nipples were both the same shade as her mane, similar to Vinyl, and likewise, her sheathe matched her coat color. Other than all that, the purple treble clef on her ass cheeks, her conservative hairstyle, and her breasts were about three cup sizes larger than Vinyl's, that was about it. Were they larger than the average earth pony, though? I'd get that answer soon enough.

On Vinyl's other side was Pinkie Pie. And hoo fucking boy. If there were someone who represented the absolute polar opposite of Octavia, it would have been Pinkie Pie. She was shorter than Vinyl, but she was very obviously bouncing up and down in excitement. The photo had caught her in the middle of one such bounce, her gigantic breasts obscuring the visibility of much of her torso. Her long, hard cock (matching the shade of pink shared with her mane and nipples) was tucked in between them. Whether it was for convenience because she was a naturally excitable mare and loved sex, or it was for the titjob she was giving herself as she used up some of her near unlimited energy, I didn't know. She sure looked happy, though, and her blue eyes twinkled at me in barely contained joy and humor, matching the huge grin on her face. On the Gabriel Iglesias Levels of Fatness Scale, she could have been charitably placed on a high 'Big', low 'Healthy'. Her being fat didn't mean that her baker earth pony muscles didn't show, though. Anyone who knew how bodies worked could easily tell you that she had some damn good muscle underneath all the padding. In contrast to Octavia, she knew she was sexy, and used it as much as she could. Her familiar messy hairstyle was exceptionally poofy in some areas, even as she splashed herself with her own milk. The balloons on her ass were especially pleasing to imagine bouncing along with the rest of her. Damn it, these ponies were making me like asses.

And lastly, behind them all, trying to look as small as possible despite scraping the ceiling (which was no easy feat judging by the size of Octavia's cello resting against the wall), was Princess Twilight Sparkle. Aside from how big she was, the most noticeable thing about Twilight was how all three subspecies managed to seem cohesive when they formed her: an alicorn who looked like she still wasn't quite used to growing so much in a short amount of time. Everything about her was big, and yet also sleek and aerodynamic. Her peak earth pony muscles looked like they weren't being used much, but sheer magical power kept them from atrophying beyond a certain level. Even so, her frame was slim and toned to match. Her wings looked ruffled and cramped in this comparatively small house, but she didn't seem to mind. She even looked happy to be there. What was her relationship with Pinkie Pie, Vinyl Scratch, and Octavia Melody? Why was she here with them when she probably had royal bullshit to take care of? Why wouldn't her tits (bigger even than Pinkie's, but matched to her body so they were more fitting by comparison) stop flowing with milk, cascading down her lavender body from her violet nipples to her violet dick?

It was time... to ignore all of those questions for now, and instead answer Vinyl's. "I finished taking a look at your picture, and I made sure to check off in the box below that I 'like what I see'. And I do. I really, really do. What is it about yourself that makes you think you're ugly when you're clearly not?"

It took a couple minutes for her to answer me. "What thing do the four of us over here have in common?"

Aside from the fact you all are literal sex goddesses with candy-colored cocks I want to lick like the lollipops that they are, but I just straight up can't because I'm in an alternate fucking reality? "I don't know enough about your species to give that question a correct answer." Way to be politically correct, fuckwad.

"Good answer. Twi thinks you'd 'make an excellent human ambassador'. She's so funny when she's riled up about something new she's discovered, and it's gotten funnier ever since she became an alicorn."

"While we're on this line of discussion, how do you all know each other?"

Her answer, again, was delayed. "That kinda fits in with your previous question. I guess I'd better start at the beginning.

"The thing we four have in common is our tits, and how they're always lactating. It's because of this magical genetic disorder that's called Free Flow Syndrome. The way the doctors described it to me once I started lactating when I was twelve was that, at the time of conception, magic aids in the creation of the cells that eventually form a mare. In very rare occasions, the magic overcompensates for something silly and ends up changing something fundamental about how that pony's body works. Whether it makes them a unicorn, or a pegasus, or an earth pony, magic will do as it wants to in order to help a mare come out 'right'. But magic is uncontrollable. Fickle. Sometimes it doesn't just change your tribe. Sometimes, in about three to four percent of all births, it affects the mare's breast tissue. Now, instead of the regular, controllable lactation that normal ponies expect thanks to being hermaphrodites, complete with internal wars between estrogen and testosterone, once we Free Flows start lactating, it's impossible to stop it. The sheer amount of food I've had to eat just to keep from going skin and bones over my metabolism demanding attention thanks to my tits is super annoying, but I make enough bits to afford it all.

"So you'd think that merely constantly pouring milk out my tits would be all it would do, right? Well like I said earlier, magic is fickle and overcompensating. If anypony who doesn't have Free Flow Syndrome drinks our milk, there's a good chance that they'll develop it as well as the magic in our seemingly normal milk enters their body, preprogrammed to keep the milk flowing."

I couldn't believe what I'd just read. "An infectious genetic disorder?"

"Exactly. And because of that, even though a normal mare's milk is widely accepted at all government donation facilities, Free Flows aren't allowed in them. They don't want some orphaned little filly drinking the milk or eating the cheese of somepony who can ostracize them from society and cause potential health problems."

"Ostracized? I thought you were popular and made a lot of money."

"I worked hard to overcome my disabilities, as did Tavi. I make good music and sell lots of records, she's a first chair cello player for the Royal Canterlot Orchestra. Pinkie Pie is naturally fun to be around and throws amazing parties for any occasion. She makes even the most depressed and suicidal of mares genuinely smile, even without parties. Twi is a fucking princess. Believe it or not, she used to be smaller than me. A librarian unicorn from Canterlot, learning about friendship and magic. She studied hard, and befriended everypony in town, even though she was so scared to open up because of her breasts. Used to be shyer than Fluttershy. Only ever opened up to ponies thanks to that dragon of hers, Barb, and Tavi, who knew her back when they were neighbors or something. Tavi introduced her to me and Pinkie, and we hit it off right away, helping comfort her whenever a meet and greet went south and encouraging her while she fought off dangers to Equestria again and again. And then she wrote a spell, grew a pair of wings and twice in size, and now thanks to her being a Free Flow princess it's slowly being more and more accepted across the country. Ponyville's Free Flow population only counted as the four of us before she became a princess. Now Ponyville's largely considered a safe haven for everypony who has it, and they've been moving in from everywhere. Cloudsdale, Canterlot, Fillydelphia, Manehattan (where I met Tavi), Detrot, everywhere, from every walk of life. Homeless and noble alike. Ponyville used to be so small. Now? It's huge, and it's thanks to us, but especially to her, no matter how much she denies it."

Huh. "Does your milk only affect other ponies?"

"Another good question. Twi will probably want to test your blood and vaccinate you before you visit. You and the computer pony, if she even has blood to test."

I looked down at the pony in question, still snuggled on my lap. She was warm and cozy, and I felt her heartbeat against my pelvis. "I think so." I looked back up at the screen. "So how, specifically, did you and Tavi meet?"

"That's a story she's better suited to tell you. I don't give it enough justice."

"Alrighty then." Oh shit! "Before I forget, I need to say that I like the video and photo. I'll be back in a jiffy."

"Sure thing. ;)"

When I got the go ahead, I clicked alt+left like mad, eventually showing up at the media she had sent me. 'Do you Like this user?' flashed at me from beneath them. I clicked on the boxes next to them and clicked 'Submit'. The screen started shifting colors, and then a message popped up. 'Congratulations on your first Liked user! Since the two of you Like each other already, you may now travel freely between your worlds, as well as use the live camera chat function. Your transportation device should be operational now.' An arrow key pointed at the weird Netgear-looking thing I'd plugged in last night. Sure enough, it had started to glow slightly green. 'As always, thank you for using Interdimensional Dating for your romantic needs!' And with that, I was redirected back to the chat window.

"Hey."

"Hey. :D" she typed back. "Our devices are working now. I let Twilight know, and she's preparing blood testing equipment for you right now. Even with that damn castle of hers, she still wants to live with us, so she has to go all the way over there to retrieve it. So she'll be a couple minutes."

"That's fine. However long it takes to make sure that I don't die while I'm there, that's how long it takes." I looked at the clock and yelped. "I gotta go anyways. I'll be back on in about an hour and a half."

"Later then. <3"

I looked back down at the mare in my lap. Would she fall if I got up? Nah, she was holding on pretty tight. I was sure I could loosen her off of me, though. I carefully slid a finger into her exposed marehood, wiggling it around in what I hoped was a pleasing set of motions. She tensed up, and then melted like butter, leaning into my hand. I took this opportunity to wrap her around my neck and against my back, childlike, and to take out my finger. She smiled even as she whimpered, and held me tighter. Holy fuck, she was so adorable. With that settled, I sanitized my hands at the dispenser and packed up my laptop and power cord. Tonight was gonna be a long night.

People were giving me weird looks as I left the classroom and headed to my dorm, but people were always giving me weird looks. I had a reputation for being unrepentant in my silliness, as well as scrounging for uneaten food in trash cans (those lazy high school values of food being there just to be thrown away really irritated me, and plus I was super hungry), so I naturally ignored the looks and settled down onto my bed, setting my laptop back up and grabbing my pillows and blankets from my locker. At last, I was ready to surf the information superhighway in a comfiness sandwich: me between my blankies and my little pony (heh, I said it). I could wrap my pony waifu around my chest, lay down, and quietly watch YouTube videoes until roll call, and then pass out afterward. After all, I had stayed up until two in the morning, and I was still feeling the grogginess hit me like a train.

Just then, Connor came in from his trade, looked around, and saw me. He stopped. And stared. I snarked, "What? Do I have more acne on my face than usual?"

"You have a pony."

What.

"On your chest."

"...." Well, fuck.

Author's Note

Note the pun in the title.

Note also that I've been intentionally inconsistent with Creator's gender.

I Was Going Somewhere With These Chapter Titles

I was really doing this. I was really, actually doing this. "I'm ready when you are, DDj." We had since moved to a live text chat window, discovered as an alternative to private messaging shortly after she had sent her last message. Thus far, it had proven itself to be inordinately more convenient for both of us than the previous system. "Just be warned: I'm not altogether pleasant to look at."

"I'll be the judge of that, lol." DDj had been persistent throughout the entire process, so I expected her optimism. Not that it wasn't refreshing. "And don't worry: my self-esteem issues demand that I tell you that I think I'm ugly, too, and I don't expect you to think otherwise. You've got Tavi all excited about what you look like, and even Twi came over when she heard about what we were doing. She's pacing all impatiently, papers in hand so she can take notes."

I laughed as I responded, "so it's not just you I'm trying to impress here?"

"In short, no. While I wait for you to activate it, I'm gonna take a picture of the three of us and add it to what'll be sent to you. For now, it's just a video showcasing me and what I do."

Hmmm.... "Alright." I looked over the pictures I'd assembled as a part of creating my profile. One of them was of me in a secondhand suit I'd received at a Job Corps event, and it made me look like a burnt, overstuffed burrito. I was in a pose highly reminiscent of the 'you know I had to do it to em' meme, or however it went. And as far as I could tell, it was the best picture I had of me that didn't look trashy. I selected it, and then clicked 'Exchange Photo', putting it in the queue. All I had to do was wait for DDj to be finished with her picture.

Her response came sooner than expected. "You actually went through with it! Yay! Aaaaand sent!"

And with that, I received the now familiar notification bloop, indicating that two items had been sent. My hand was shaking as I went to the 'Received Items' menu. 'Congratulations on your first picture correspondence, Episteme!' was flashed at me as I saw them, sitting there. You're not gonna open them? After all the progress you two have made over such a short period? The pony avatar gave me one of her 'I'm not mad at you, I'm just disappointed' looks. You're being more foalish than usual, and that's saying something considering you tried to kill me four hours ago.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, but we've accepted each other for who we are. This isn't that. I'm just...."

She turned sympathetic again. ... scared? Nervous?

I nodded. "A little of both. She's unrealistically perfect. Has flaws and friends, is honest, and is eloquent. She's fucking perfect for me." My hands shook more violently. Gyawhd, I was fucked up. "But there's only one way to alleviate my fears, and that's to watch this video and look at this picture. After that, well, we'll see when we get there. Hopefully, I can bring my laptop with me."

That might be able to be arranged. I'll see what I can do, after you look at this photo and this video. This is as important to me as it is to you. I am your friend, after all.

"Alright, alright." And so I clicked on the video first, vaguely aware of receiving more messages from DDj as I opened it up.

Only fifty-seven seconds long, huh? So far, so good. Though what could be said to me in that short an amount of time? I had little time to dwell on this as the video started. A mare's head came into view, wearing large purple shades and a grin on her rounded snout, bobbing to the music. While I used to not care for dubstep, ever since I'd moved to Job Corps it grew on me. I nodded along to the beat, and the sparse words I could understand, like 'bass', 'no', and 'oh yeah'. Heavy beats were inlaid with light bloops, pews, and twangs to create this sort of middle thingy that I very much enjoyed.

Then I watched as, from behind, I got a better look at the pony who made the video. Her mane was a not too dark shade of blue, with a more electric shade going down the middle. She had two circlet piercings in her left ear, near the tip. Her shoulders were bare, and I could see much of her upper body, but nothing from the front. She had human hands and arms, which she used to push some of her mane back and then rested on either side of her torso. Her breasts were round enough that I could see outlines of them from around her waist. The camera then switched to her putting on some gloves. One of them, on her left hand, was a fishnet-like pattern, dyed black. She used it to fasten on an almost teal fingerless glove (sans fishnet) on her right. The black buckles looked more like they were there to add style than safety but looked nice all the same. No nail polish to be seen, but I didn't expect any. With a tug and a clench of her fist, the scene changed.

Now we were looking at her hi-top sneakers. They had a coloration styled to look like her mane, tied in the loopy knot I was most familiar with at the top, and fastened with white buckle straps this time. They didn't look like normal hi-tops, though. More like if hi-tops were designed for hooves. Perhaps metal horseshoes were ridiculously painful to them, and they had their own non-metal horseshoe industry? Whatever the case, her shadow indicated that she was bending down, and sure enough, she brushed off some dust from the eighth note logo on the shoe near where her ankle would be if she were human. She used her black fishnet hand to do it, showing an obscured detail from earlier: the fishnet was connected to her arm by a loop going around her middle finger, which was just solid black, and no fishnet was to be seen. From the loop, it was cut off in a triangular pattern from her palm to her wrist, where her other four fingers were bare and un-fishnetted. It really was interesting.

But then the scene changed again. Hoo. Boy.

Now I could see her breasts in full force, in all their bare glory. They were not, as her username implied, double d-cups. No, they were much, much larger. Whatever pony standards were for cup size, they obviously had a larger cup size on average than human females. DDj's breasts were more akin in size to, say, Centorea's or Rachnera's, from Monster Musume. They jiggled slightly, ignoring gravity. I watched as she moved her hands up from her sides, stroking upwards past her defined midriff (complete with curves, small waist, belly button, and six-pack abs!), and played with her grey nipples. A white fluid was flowing freely from them, even when she wasn't playing with them. It poured down her body, or otherwise dripped from her underboobs. My hands were shaking again as I continued to watch.

Now she was gently grasping something with her fingerless glove hand, thumb resting on the top of it. It looked thick, judging by how much space it took up in her hand. She couldn't get all her fingers around it if she tried. I watched as she slowly pulled her hand, and the camera, backward, stroking the length of this blue tubular... thing, whatever it was. I highly suspected I'd find out later. Just as she lifted her hand off of whatever the fuck that thing was, the camera zoomed in slightly on the blue thing abruptly ending in a sea of white, much like this mare's coat. Perhaps, given that she had a coat of fur, that was why she wasn't wearing anything? Was it uncomfortable? These were questions I'd ask her later, after the video and the photo. The camera lingered there for a moment, outlining two white shiny somethings hanging down from underneath the big blue tube. Then it all twisted around to face the camera, but a record scratch and some colored bars abruptly, if temporarily, interrupted the music.

Turned out, she had merely dropped the camera. It had clattered to the floor of the recording room, a little crack forming in the bottom right-hand corner, but the recording of the video was otherwise unhindered. I noted, from this perspective, that her shoes didn't have a matching eighth note symbol on the other ankle, because a zipper had taken up that space. Three ways to secure some cloth and rubber to her feet, but no shirt to speak of. I chuckled.

She stepped over and bent herself to pick up the camera, her fingerless glove thumb pressing up against the glass. She passed over her shoes and a small portion of her legs before she pulled the rest of it up in a weird angle. It was as though she was making an effort to try to avoid showing me her pelvis. What, did she have short shorts that she found embarrassing? The camera passed over what looked like a little bit of it, upon which I saw that eighth note symbol again, this time much larger. I barely got enough time to get a better look at it as the camera moved away from it and across one of her breasts again, still leaking that fluid from her nipples. She stopped pulling up her camera at her face, which smiled at me. She didn't have her shades on, giving me a good look at her magenta eyes. She looked like she was about to burst into laughter, which she did, only it was more of a silent giggle into her fishnet arm. She bent her head down and scrunched u her eyes in what had to be the most adorable expression I'd seen thus far. It also showcased her horn, which spiraled out a couple inches from her forehead. Around her neck rested a pair of headphones, colored much like her mane and coat, apart from the black ear cushions. She pulled her shades out from somewhere and slid them on. I noted that they just fit themselves onto her face no problem, and considered that it'd have to be a part of their design. Normal human shades wouldn't exactly work for her, as they'd have no ears to slide themselves in between. Pony ears, as had been shown to me earlier, were on top of her skull, and not on the sides like mine. Once they were fastened to her face, she set her fishnet arm and wiggled her eyebrows at the camera.

Then she looked down. And her camera followed her gaze.

Oh my gosh. Oh my fucking gosh.

It wasn't shorts that she wanted to avoid me looking at. It was something she wanted to tease. To save for last.

What was on her pelvis wasn't an embarrassing pair of shorts.

What was on her pelvis was, by far, what had to be the largest dick I'd ever seen. That dick was the long blue tube from earlier, and it was equine. It was a huge blue horsecock, with a white sheath and balls and a blue medial ring and everything. Her balls were, from this perspective, roughly about three fourths the size of tennis balls, and they ignored gravity much like her breasts. They hung from their sack, sure, but they didn't dangle or drag on the floor. They were an extension of her body. A part of her. I also had a good look at the eighth note symbols on either side of her ass. Now I'm not normally an ass or an anal man, but I know what a nice ass looks like, and she had an ass to nationalize Germany and invade Poland over. More of that fluid from her breasts flowed down the sides of her ass, running down her horse-like knees and collecting in a puddle at her shoes, which I assumed were liquid-proof. Now I had a better look at the color of the fluid, untainted by her white coat. The puddle was a shade darker than her coat. More creamy and thick. To tell you the truth, it kinda reminded me of-

Wait.

WAIT.

NOW WAIT JUST A GODDAMNED FUCKING MINUTE.

Was she... lactating?! Holy shit, she was! And a lot, too! The metabolism required sure did wonders for her figure. But it came out constantly, and not with prompting like it normally should. It pooled on the floor of wherever they recorded this video, flowing to a drain installed a short distance away. It bubbled slightly, and then flowed away, never to be seen again.

What did she taste like?

My hands now shook like I was having a seizure as I finished the video. She focused the camera on her lower body (with the exception of one of her tits), and gave her dick a solid wiggle. It bounced against the limits of its rigidity. Oh fuck, this was turning her on. She was so hard and thick. With a dick like that, why go after a fat fucking lowlife like me? plenty of women and mares would gladly go after that thing! As it wiggled, so too did her ass, revealing her ponytail, with hair colored just like her mane.

Mercifully, she pulled the camera back up to her head. She grinned once more, waved goodbye with her fishnet hand, and covered up the camera, ending the video and the song in a mess of static.

I had to get up. That was too much. That was way too fucking much.

"All of my fetishes. All of them. In one pony!" Now my eye had started twitching as well, joining my hands and arms, and even my knees. "What could I possibly be doing right that justifies her messaging me? WHAT?!" I rounded on the mare hat started all this, the fucking pony in my computer. She looked startled and was even shedding a few tears. "Is some fuck in the middle of nowhere that good at animations, and is trolling me? Because there's no way, no FUCKING WAY, that this is real!" And at that, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the ground, shaking. It wasn't much longer until I realized that I was crying. Of course, I couldn't stop myself if I wanted to. I just laid there, giving my classroom's carpet a thorough soaking.

Then I felt something on my shoulder. I looked up, bleary-eyed and sniffly, and saw the mare from my computer, standing there, smiling. She had put a foreleg on me, and was crying as well, but not nearly as heavily as I was. Her voice was sweet and melodic, if tinted with the tears she shed for my sanity. "Hang in there, big guy."

At those comforting words, I lost it. I wrapped my arms around her neck and pulled her into a hug, still crying. She wrapped her forelegs around my neck as well, returning the hug. She whispered comforting platitudes in my ear, patting me on the back, and adding to the moistening of the classroom carpet. We held each other there, still under the effects of her background pony spell. In the middle of my mental breakdown, I thought, at least nobody can see us. Thank fuck. Oh, wait, fucking. She'll be doing plenty of that with her... her..., and then I lost it again.

It took a while for us to calm down. We ended up underneath my desk, laying against the wall next to each other. "So."

She looked up at me. I was much bigger than she was, and even though she was a cartoon pony come to life, given flesh and blood, she was still a little pony. She looked like what a flesh and blood pony should look like, if it were ripped from Friendship is Magic and plunked in front of me. Large eyes and head, short, rounded snout, long mane and tail, and adorable as fuck. "So." That voice of hers!

In spite of myself, I managed a grin. "Happy to not be limited to underlined text now?"

She rolled those massive eyes of hers and smirked. "Inordinately, yes."

The elephant- erm, the pony in the room needed to be addressed. "How did you get out of my computer?"

She sighed. "It's hard to explain. I saw you collapse, and I felt... something in my chest." She pointed at the chest in question, which rose and fell in a soft, floofy rhythm. "The next thing I knew, I was on the floor behind you, and I couldn't just watch you tear yourself apart."

"So you don't know, but you love me too much to care," I snarked.

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then fixed me a determined look. "Yes."

I was too tired to start crying again, so I merely sat there in muted shock. "Wut."

She got up, smiled shakily, and wrapped her forelegs around me again. She was so close to me, her snout nearly booping my nose. "I... I love you, Scerick. Unconditionally, irrevocably, and given our actions towards each other, I might add irrationally. Your sense of humor is unique, and you're very charming and handsome. Your life has been riddled with trials and tribulations, but wherever it may take you, know that I'll be by your side no matter what."

"But... can you go back? Back into my computer?"

She looked up at the underside of my desk, on top of which my computer lay, the application still open. "I don't know. But... I don't think I want to."

"I can't support you."

She looked back at me, smiling again. "You don't have to."

"I can't feed you."

"I don't need to eat. Came from a computer, remember?"

"I can't clothe you."

"You do know I'm not wearing anything right now, right? And I've got my fur coat."

"I don't have any money."

"I don't need any. What would I even buy?"

"You're a talking, multicolored pony. If anyone sees you, you may be taken away from me and killed."

"Nopony - excuse me, nobody - has seen me yet. How do you think we're still sitting here, even after our loud crying session?"

She had me there. My hand had started to shake again, so I clenched it into a fist and just focused on breathing. When I was calm, I looked at the pony in front of me. Her smile had faltered, being replaced with concern. "I don't deserve you."

She hugged me tighter, resting her snout comfortably on my large shoulders. "Yes. Yes, you do."

I laughed, just a little. "What did I do to deserve this? Fuck me...."

She looked at me, her smirk returning. "Not yet, Scerick. Soon, for sure, but not today." Her smirk became a grin. "After all, I gotta fix your head," she pointed a hoof at my skull, "before I fix your head." She pointed her hoof at my crotch.

I wrapped my arms around her again and laughed my ass off. She was still so close.

It came as no surprise when she pulled me in and started to kiss me. She seemed to prefer using her lips over fighting for dominance with our tounges, but she was pushing into me regardless. She stroked my back with her hoof, and I combed my fingers through her mane. Occasionally, a moan or a squeak would escape her perfect lips. The scent of strawberries filled the air, tracing back to the mare I was sucking face with. When I did trace it back to her, she blushed. "That's, uh, my scent. We give it off whenever we're... uh...." And then I looked down. Sure enough, past her deepening blush and her sheepish grin, there was a twitching tail and a collection of juices, busy giving off that strawberry scent full force.

I knew what those juices meant, and I shook my head at her. "We'll leave it here for now. When you're ready."

Her sheepishness turned into gratitude. "Thank you, Scerick." She hesitated, then added, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

One squee and a glomp later, I had returned to my seat. The mare who was formerly from my computer sat curled, catlike, on my lap. As I was about to look at the picture DDj had sent me along with the video, I was interrupted by another private message. With a sigh, I opened it up, not concerned that you had to message someone back in order to activate the chat window function. But then I started to pay attention.

It was from 'Creator (ADMIN)'. "What have you done?!"

The mare on my lap seemed to notice my sudden tension because she perked her head up. "What's going on?"

I mutely pointed at the message I had just received. "No, seriously, what in Tartarus have you done?!"

She sat up, typing, "I'm right here! I just had to comfort him!"

"You get back right in the system, young mare. You can't only help this human. There are millions of instances of you that just disappeared right off the bat, all because you had to hug him! The nerve of you. You have a job to do! And you shirked it!"

She glared at the screen. "Creator, that's not what I'm doing."

"Yes, it is! You can't come back in now, because the system is registering you as a bucking user! Now I have to make another User Interface, which will leave millions of users out in the dust!"

"Uh, if I may interject," I interjected, "your user interface is pretty standard as far as that goes. Menu buttons are easy to find, and messaging is easy to access and complete. You don't actually need to code an entire Artificial Intelligence and split its consciousness across an entire website just to help some inept user. If they can't navigate this site, it's their own fault."

My mare smiled at me. "My human just made a good point. You don't need me in your servers. Your website is built in such a way as ponies can navigate it easily, without my help. Having another me around just complicates things. And besides," she fixed me a loving look before finishing, "I'm my own mare now. I'm flesh and blood. You can't override any subroutines or code me back into your grasp. I'm here, and you're there. There's nothing you can do about this."

"I could always ban your human."

WHAT?! She conveyed my spluttered anger for me. "Why?! He's done nothing to harm you! Leave him out of this, or so help me!"

"What he's done is he's taken my daughter away from me, and I want her back."

"Really now? Well, you can't have her, and that's final!"

The screen suddenly went black, and a single string of text appeared: 'You have been banned from Interdimensional Dating.' Yet she was grinning like she had won.

"Uh...," I began.

She turned to me. "Don't worry, honey. I'll always protect you from bad people. And besides, The Creator will come to their senses soon. The other admins are good ponies, and they suspected that something like this would happen. You should be unbanned within the next couple of hours."

"If you say so."

I reached behind her head and scratched her ears. She melted into my touch like some trashy slime-focused transformation manga on nhentai. "Oooooh. That feels so gooooooood." She let out a giggle. "Now that I'm not in that website, I can feel things. I don't have to direct somepony's stupid request, I don't have to kowtow to Creator... I'm free!" She smiled up at me and purred, "I know I've said it before, but it bears saying again: I. Love. You."

I returned her smile. "I love you too, dear."