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.