Author's Note
A present for my TF friends. Warning for dark themes. This story is not meant to glorify or condone the things within. I just wanted to write something to process some experiences/feelings that have been shared with me.
Published as a one shot for now.
Everything Is Fine
You are the little mare, also known specifically as Moonlight Charm. Your master calls you Moon, or Charmy, or sometimes affectionately, ‘my little Charmy’. It makes you feel tingly when he does that.
You’re one of the lucky mares—You have a master.
Almost a year ago now, a group of radical terrorists from some board on the internet stole a mutagenic chemical, one of the transhuman project derivatives, tweaked it, and set off gas bombs in several big city districts across the east coast. Everyone in the affected areas was turned into a little, pastel-colored pony. As far as terror attacks went, it could have been worse, but was still incredibly disruptive to the lives of many people.
For instance, ponies weren’t particularly good at living on their own. Or doing most jobs, for that matter. A little magic, flight, and durability didn’t make up for stubby hooves and your pathetically small stature. Granted, ponies still retained their knowledge of course, but their personalities got a bit more whimsical and childlike, which made them unfit for several roles. Hard to be an officer of the law or a business owner when you were so little and impossible to take seriously.
But that wasn’t the biggest change. Being a pony meant you had new needs. Needs like being held, or feeling the touch of another. Within an hour of being ignored, a pony would become uncomfortable and anxious. Within several hours of being alone, they would become agitated and begin to crave touch, like the beginning of withdrawal. A pony left for multiple days in isolation would become unstable, prone to panic attacks and episodes of emotional distress. If left alone repeatedly, a pony would eventually develop a powerful separation anxiety and would cling to anyone that so much as acknowledged them. Or in extreme cases, become unresponsive. Being a pony meant you weren’t just social creature—you NEEDED to be with someone.
And so the pony caretakers program was launched.
With Google having a detailed personality profile for every human on the planet, ponies and suitable owners could be matched using an algorithm. It wasn’t perfect of course. Some masters were better than others, and not all of them wanted to have a pony to look after in the first place. Personality mismatches still happened, and there were some cases of abuse that surfaced now and then. It was hard for a computer to account for all the changes in personality a pony had gone through, or know if a person had a dark side. Not to mention what a gender swap did to a person’s profile. You unconsciously rubbed your back thighs together, a small groan coming from your throat at the still-strange feeling. Gender swaps were common… there were a lot more mares than stallions, after all.
But like you said, you were lucky.
Your master, Anon, was kind, gentle, loving, and always paid plenty of attention to you. In return, all he asked was that you help with some basic chores around the house while he worked. Thankfully he worked from home, so you could curl up in his lap whenever you felt a little needy. And he made good money too, so you were never left wanting when it came to toys or games or snacks. Compared to your dead-end office job, coming home to an empty house every day with no real future? This wasn’t so bad. And having someone who cared about you, someone who made you feel special? That was indescribable.
It was hard to understate how good it felt to mean something to someone, to be able to greet your master and have him smile and pick you up. He loved to blow raspberries on your belly and tease you for being cute. He liked to tickle you whenever you got too sassy and gave you headpats and praise whenever you did something good. To feel that genuine affection made your heart soar, gave you goosebumps, and sometimes…? If things got particularly lovey, your chest felt heavy and full and warm in all the right ways. It was a feeling without compare. You genuinely loved your master.
Though, the two of you still had challenges in your relationship. In particular, you had a bad heat problem. The heats as a pony were like being a hormonal teenager surrounded by hot naked women for years on end without release, all condensed within the microcosm of a week. Ponies could take the edge off with medication, but you had a naturally high libido even outside your heat. During that week, your mind was a slurry of slutty, depraved thoughts, and nothing could calm you down or get your mind out of the gutter save for a good power fuck. Thus far, Anon helped by getting you plenty of toys, but that wasn’t what you needed. You needed a real, live cock to spread you open.
But Master didn’t want to help when you got lewd like that. He’d said no the first time, and looked more than a little uncomfortable about the prospect of doing anything sexual with you. It hurt, but you didn’t want to be a nuisance, so you didn’t ask after that. Your next heat was approaching in a few days, and you eyed the date on the calendar with dread. Anon promised he’d look into stronger medications this time, or barring that, a fucking machine. But while those things were nice, they probably wouldn’t help. You didn’t have the heart to tell him.
That wasn’t the only cause for concern in your relationship though. You see, while Anon was by all counts an amazing master, he still had some quirks. He was a bit messy, for one, an issue that only got worse once you were around taking care of the cleaning. And he could be stubborn as a mule sometimes, as well as occasionally prone to jealousy when it came to you enjoying the attention of other males. But that was something you could live with or manage in the case of getting pets from mostly him.
Rather, Anon had one particular flaw that was particularly challenging for you to cope with.
--
You let out a soft moan as you wiggled yourself deeper into the confines of the laundry hamper, basking in the scent of your master. You could feel the first dregs of need trickling into your system like melting ice as you lay there, inhaling his scent like a drug. He was going to be upset if you didn’t get your chores finished but you couldn’t help it. You loved doing this. Everything felt so soft and warm. And it smelled so nice. Anon was busy working on his computer still, you told yourself. He wasn’t going to catch you.
You shoved your muzzle into a pair of boxers, breathing deep of his intoxicating, male scent. A shiver ran through you and you clenched your legs tightly. Ooh, your sense of smell as a pony made this so addicting. Everyday should be laundry day. You wormed in deeper, then, using your mouth to pull a pair of pants and a shirt over you, you made a laundry cocoon of sorts. It was perfection. A literal envelopment of softness that smelled like master and made you feel comfort all the way down to your bones. So soft… so nice. Your eyes began to feel heavy. Oh wait… no. You can’t fall asleep now. You have chores to do. Your muscles ached to lay still, to not get up from your comfy spot deep in his clothes. Everytime you made a move to extricate yourself, the thought died halfway, like you were chained down. Maybe you can just relax for a few minutes? Yeah that’d be fine. Just a quick nap and master will be none the wiser. You nuzzled into a pair of socks, feeling the delightful little pills brushing against your fur . Just… a few… minutes.
--
Something made you stir. You blinked, staring blearily around your little cocoon as a yawn spread across your face. Oh… right. Laundry day. Everything in your little clothes nest had conformed to your body, wrapping around you snuggly, save for a pocket around your muzzle, and it felt pleasantly warm still. Gosh, that may have been one of the best naps you’ve ever taken, you thought. You feel so well rested. You pushed your hooves out, hearing them pop before curling back up again. God, why were laundry baskets so comfy and warm and pony sized. If you could, you’d ask master to replace your bed with one. But then again, you prefer sleeping next to him. Nothing like being master’s little teddy pony and getting to feel his steady breathing against your back, knowing he was sleeping soundly because of you. Master always said you were soft and enjoyable to sleep with. You let out a sigh and wormed back into your spot. Alright, just another minute and you’ll finish laundry before master takes a break.
“Charmy, what do you think you’re doing?”
Your eyes snapped open. Oh no! You sprung up like a steel trap and stood rigid, a pair of boxer shorts hanging on one of your ears. You didn’t dare reach for it. There, squatting in front of the basket, was a stern faced, unimpressed looking Anon. He rolled his head slightly, resting it on his palm as he looked at you, eyes cutting like knives.
A small squeak, like the air squeezing from a balloon, eked past your lips. It was then that you noticed the lighting. Gone was the clean, blue lighting of the afternoon sun. In its place, the incandescent lights filled the space with a warm, yellow hue, and outside the laundry room window, you could see the last wisps of the setting sun, painting the bottom edge with red and purple. Oh god, that wasn’t a quick nap at all. You were asleep all afternoon!
Anon, didn’t say anything for a time, and you stood there, awkwardly shifting your weight back and forth, waiting for the ball to drop. He simply weighed you with a kind of cold calculation. That should have set off alarm bells in your head but you were far too panicked to notice. Eventually he spoke.
“I was looking all over for you, you know.”
Your ears snapped back against your head. Ohgodhe’ssodissapointedinyou. You forced down a whine as he continued.
“And here I finally find you, in my unfinished laundry, after I got all worried thinking you’d gotten into trouble or were lost. Charm, I thought something happened to you, and instead, I found out you just decided to shirk your chores and take a nap.”
You sniffled. “I’m s-sorry. Please don’t be mad.”
He let out a long breath through his nose. “I’m not mad at you, Charm. I’m just really disappointed.”
Your chest felt like someone dropped a weight on it. No no no! You hated this! Why did you have to do that? You should have known better.
“This is the third time you’ve done this with my laundry too, so you’re apparently not taking this seriously. No, I don’t think sorry is going to cut it this time. I think we’re going to have to do something about this, and I’m not talking about ‘no TV for a week’ here.”
A strange feeling wormed its way into your gut. Uh oh… Anon could be firm with you at times but he’d usually chastise you a bit and give you a minor punishment like taking away your favorite snack or restricting TV time. If anything, he was a little too light when it came to punishments. Being cute had its perks. But every now and then, Anon would get in a mood. It was then that you recognized the look he had—the smile that touched his eyes and teased at his lips.
Your stomach dropped out from under you.
You see, Anon had one particular personality quirk that wasn’t like the rest. He was a bit messy, yes, and stubborn and jealous on occasion. But like you said, those were easy to deal with. Rather, Anon had one particular quirk that really, truly scared you.
He had a sadistic streak.
It only popped up once in a blue moon, but when it did, you knew you were in trouble. You tail snapped down between your legs and you felt your skin grow cold as a shiver ran through you. Anon would never hurt you, of course. Not once had he ever used pain to enforce a lesson. You think it was a point of pride for him. But he could punish you in other ways.
You swallowed. “W-What are you going to do?”
“Oh, I think I have an idea.”
Anon grabbed your forehoof and dragged you up out of the basket, slinging you over his shoulder and keeping one hand under your bottom to keep you steady. He paused for a moment, feeling the faint wetness from your lower lips. You clenched your eyes shut as a furious blush formed on your face. Oh god, now he knows you were getting off on it.
If he was disgusted, you couldn’t tell. Anon simply headed towards the back of the house. On his way you noticed him grab a strange, white container, with a picture of a horse on the front, but you didn’t have time to read the label as he slung it under his arm and headed into the backyard. After a few paces onto the cooled grass, he set the container down, and then picked you up and placed you onto a soft patch away from the house.
The butterflies in your stomach had whipped themselves into a frenzy as you looked up at your master. “What are we going to do in the yard, Master?”
“You’ll see.” Anon grabbed the container, and after instructing you not to move, began pouring the liquid out onto the grass. He drew a ring around you, with perhaps enough space to fit another pony or two, then came around to the front of you again. You sniffed the edge of the circle where you could see the dampened grass. It didn’t smell like gasoline. In retrospect you feel guilty for even thinking he’d do something so dangerous to you. He could be mean but master wouldn’t hurt you. You looked up at him, a question in your eyes. His only answer was a sweet, yet worrying smile. Oh, that smile did not bode well for you… Without a word, he left the container on the ground and headed back to the back slider.
You sat there, furrowing your brow at him for a moment before you stood and went to follow after. Something stopped you. Your hoof hovered in midair, somehow unable to push forward. You lowered it to the ground, then tried to take a step forward again, but something stopped you, just the same as before. There was no barrier or magic. You could tell that much. You just… couldn’t. Anon had stopped at the door and watched you without a word. You turned, attempting to walk the other way, and again, that same feeling stopped you. You trotted in circles, trying every angle, each time, unable to take that next step. A nervous feeling wormed its way into your gut.
You turned to Anon, panic starting to rise in you. “Master,” you said, looking over to him. “H-Help! I’m stuck.”
He simply put his hands behind his back and leaned forward slightly. His smile was like a little girl with a secret, bursting to let you in on it. It was then that you noticed the container he’d carried out had been left just outside your circle. The label had been turned to face you.
“Horse repellent?”
You turned back to Anon. He looked lovingly at you in a way that made your hackles rise.
“Aw, my cute little Charmy. You look so adorable. It almost makes it hard.”
You swallowed, and sat back down on your haunches. The next move was his… it all depended on how far he wanted to take your punishment.
“Well…” he paused for a good few seconds, savoring the suspense as you held your breath. “Goodnight, Charmy.”
Fear, cold and sharp surged through you. “Master, no please! I’m sorry I’m sorry! Please no!”
Anon turned and headed towards the door. Tears began falling down your face as you rushed around the circle, helpless to cross the threshold. NO! You don’t want to be left outside! You want to be with master and cuddle and go to sleep in a nice warm bed and oh god you were such a bad pony why did you do that you should have known b—
The door shut. Anon was gone.
“Master NO! Please don’t leave me!” you cried towards the house, bawling openly now. “I’ll be good I promise! Just don’t do this!”
There was no answer. Anon was gone. No, wait, don’t panic. This was just a test. He wanted to tease you a little then he’d come right back, pick you up, and be happy that you didn’t say anything you didn’t mean. Just be good and wait. A good pony waits for their master patiently and without whining. You sat there, staring at the slider door while your body was racked with sobs. Any minute now he’d be there. Just be patient.
One minute turned into two, then to three. Three turned to ten then to an hour, and eventually, the sun’s light began to fade, dowsing the backyard in a gloomy dusk as you sat there, alone. Your heart ached and a deep sense of dread filled you. Fresh tears sprung forth as you sat there, stomach grumbling, whimpering for a dinner that wouldn’t come tonight.
The light eventually faded to night. You watched with horror as the lights in the house progressively went dark until finally, Anon’s bedroom light clicked off.
--
You didn’t sleep. The entire night you lay there on your little island of grass, desperately hoping against all hope that he’d bring you in. But no respite came as your mind slowly turned against you. First came the crushing loneliness. It settled over you with a gnawing discomfort, a thunderhead looming overhead as it ate away at you. But you were alone, with only the darkness around you. It pressed in against you from all sides, taunting you, filling you with dread. You sobbed and covered your face with your hooves.
Then came the agitation, the panic. Your breathing and heart rate spiked as you felt the ice cold grip of terror squeeze your chest like a ripe fruit. What if master forgot about you? No, even worse, what if he got up the next day and decided he’d rather not bring you inside anymore? What if he left you here? These thoughts and more, all irrational, all unthinkable when you were held in his arms, felt all too real now. What if master didn’t want you anymore? What if you were really a bad pony all this time? What if he got tired of you and got another pony? What if he LEFT. YOU. ALL. ALONE. Your heart thundered in your chest, threatening to burst as you hyperventilated.
“Please please please, Master, please come get me,” you whimpered into the dark. “Please I’ll be a good pony. I’ll do whatever you want. Just touch me, hold me, look at me. Anything but this.”
There was no answer. You felt like you were suffocating. And then, as if to punctuate it all, you felt two icy, wet raindrops tap against the side of your face. Your ears perked up and you looked towards the sky.
And it began to rain.
--
Anon walked out of his back door as the sun peeked over the horizon. A fog had rolled in, blanketing the world in a thin mist as he looked over at you sipping his coffee. It was almost like nothing existed here save for you, the yard, and him.
You lay there, fur damp and stuck to you, eyes stinging with no more tears to cry. Each breath was a fight as you lay there, unable to move, to say a word. Everything was numb, from your throbbing head to your useless little hooves. Anon just stood there, a neutral expression on his face. Would this be enough? Were you a good girl now?
He took a step forward.
It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, to keep them open as he came over to you. He gently brushed the backs of his fingers against your cheek. You hadn’t the strength to raise your head. You went to call out to him, to call him your master like you know you should, but all that left your lips was the hint of a breath. He picked you up. He held you like he always did, your torso facing over his shoulder, bottom cradled in one, strong arm. You flopped over his shoulder like a ragdoll and let out a whimper. God it felt so good just to feel a living being against your fur again. You let out a shuddering breath and pressed into him with what little vigor you had left.
“It’s okay, Charmy. You’re all done,” he said, rubbing you gently on the back. “Let’s go inside now. I’ll make you some breakfast.”
A wave of relief crashed over you as he walked towards the house, and you felt your eyes moisten with tears once more as you nuzzled into his neck.
Your name is Moonlight Charm. Your Master calls you Charmy. It makes you feel tingly when he does that. And you’re one of the lucky mares. You have a master.
And you love him so much.
