Hell of a Time

by Implausible Deniability

Rating: mature
Tags: Dean Cadance, Profanity, Slice of Life, Shadowbolts (EqG), Porn, Fetish, Other, Non-consensual, Adventure, Equestria Girls, Sex
Length: 33229

Principal Cinch didn't tell Cadence everything about running Crystal Prep. And some things really shouldn't be learn as you go...

Every school has a few skeletons in its closet, and Crystal Prep is no different. The differences lie in just what species those skeletons are, and how many of them hail from this dimension.

No, Equestria isn't involved. A far darker plane influences the school. And the only person who actually knew how to control that influence just got fired.

This will certainly be... interesting.

A slowish-burn corruption story. Will contain mental shifts, things happening to bodies well beyond the normal oddities of puberty, inglorious glory holes, hypnosis, group masturbation, F/F sex, consent made dubious through mental manipulation, casual nudity, physical alterations, magical aphrosiacs, dance that leaves nothing to interpretation, oral sex, intercourse before wedlock, and additional tags to come. Graciously preread by Equimorto.

Published 2020-07-09 20:30:00 UTC
Last updated 2021-05-21 15:15:08 UTC

Prologue: Laying Down Good Intentions

The steady clack-clack-clack of sensible shoes against cement might have been ominous, the sort of thing that, when combined with dim lighting and careful camera angles, would slowly send movie audiences to the edges of their seats.

“People often ask me what Crystal Preparatory Academy’s secret is.”

But for that to happen, they'd have to edit out Abacus Cinch's voice first. The imperious, lecturing tone would've killed any tension and made any audience long to strangle her. And Cadence had to admit, her own fingers started to itch if she had to listen to her boss for too long.

“Every time,” Cinch continued, “I tell them the secret is that there is no secret. Crystal Prep is the best because we have the best. The best faculty, the best facilities, the best equipment.

“But that is not the complete truth.”

Once the silence stretched on long enough for Cadence to get a word in edgewise, she realized she was expected to do so. “It isn’t?” she said, feeling like she’d missed her cue.

The feeling only grew when Abacus gave her a stinkeye before continuing. “Indeed it is not. The best does not come cheaply, and in order to both supply it and keep tuition at least moderately affordable, there must be…” The older woman trailed off, shuddering as the next word crossed her lips. “Compromises.”

“I assume that’s why we're in the school basement?” Cadence looked around. One of those compromises was clearly keeping the less visible parts of the school very clean. The cobwebs only added to the horror movie atmosphere, and she could tell where they were going just by tracking the footprints in the layers of dust on the floor.

Cinch nodded, satisfied with Cadence's performance this time. “Indeed. You see, Cadenza, when the demands of both academic excellence and the school’s reputation leave one unable to cut corners on any part of operating the school, one must apply creative tactics elsewhere.”

Cadence swallowed. Even Cinch insisting on using her full name wasn't enough to distract her from the building dread. “Is this illegal?”

“I assure you, what I will show you today does not violate any laws.”

“Which is why you had me sign a non-disclosure agreement before you let me see it.”

Cinch shook her head. “And to think, the students call me the uptight one."

"I... Excuse me!?" Cadence wasn't sure if she was more shocked by what she'd just heard, the fact that Cinch was actually somewhat in touch with what the students thought of her, or that the woman had actually cracked a joke.

"Do relax, Cadenza," Cinch said with a startlingly human smile. "I can understand how having a police officer for a significant other may make you wary of stepping even a toe out of line, but no court in the country would even have a charge to levy against us, much less convict us.”

That did nothing to assuage the building unease in Cadence's gut. “With all due respect, Principal Cinch, I’m not sure if there is an ‘us’ here.”

“I don’t pick successors out of a hat, my dear. One day, this will all be yours, building and legacy both.” Cinch spread her arms to encompass her domain, which would have worked better upstairs. “And I will see to it that you have everything you need to preserve both.”

Finally, their trek through the dusty corridors brought them to a door marked "Generator Access." Cinch unlocked it with a key from her blazer, opening it and flipping on a light switch to reveal a steep staircase leading even further down.

Cadence just stared. The naked, flickering bulb might have been even worse than pure darkness, especially since it didn't explain the blood-red light at the foot of the stairs. “I, uh, didn’t know the building had a sub-basement.”

“Oh yes," said Cinch, as calmly as though they were having lunch in her office. "Installed by Principal Sombra, much like what it contains." She chuckled, marking the second display of humanity Cadence had seen out of her this afternoon, week, and month. "Before your time, of course. He was principal when I attended classes here.”

“I’ve definitely heard the name before. Wasn’t he behind a massive embezzlement operation?”

“That was never proven." Cinch started down the staircase and looked back. "Well? Come along, now.”

Cadence gulped. Well, look on the bright side, she told herself. At least she can't shove you down the stairs.

It didn't help.

The sub-basement was a single chamber no larger than Crystal Prep's main auditorium... which, to be fair, could seat five hundred. Several consoles out of a docudrama on Charanobyl lined the walls, though none of them were lit up. Cinch moved to a laptop sitting on a folding table in front of the central feature of the room. "Modern technology has made managing it so much easier."

"It" was a low stepped pyramid the size of a backhoe. Nine square steps of stone led up to a central dais only about a foot above the floor. Each one glowed with crimson symbols that weren't part of any alphabet Cadence recognized, and the top square contained a complex diagram of a circumscribed seven-pointed star. Nine more squares of engraved stone came down from the ceiling. Between the ninth squares lay a cylinder of hazy glass that took the circle's glow and spread it across the room like an electric lantern, a two-doored passage like an airlock adding strange distortions to the unearthly light.

Cadence could make out vague motion within the glass. Nothing definite, and given the nagging sense that something was looking back, she was just fine with not having a clearer view.

It took her a few moments to take it all in, and several more to actually say something past her shock. “This… if I didn’t know any better, I’d think it was a portal to Tartarus itself!”

“Well spotted, Cadenza," said Cinch, not even looking away from the laptop. "I knew you were the right choice.”

Cadence felt her jaw drop. She stared at Cinch, waiting for anything more. The other woman just kept typing. “You can’t be serious.”

“Serious as all Hell, if you will pardon the wordplay.”

“That’s…” Cadence shook her head, waiting for the massive thing to resolve itself into something reasonable. “That’s impossible.”

“To paraphrase the Bard, there are more things in Heaven, Earth, and otherwise than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” Another few keystrokes, and Cinch stepped away from the laptop. She gestured towards it like showing off a game show prize. “See for yourself.”

Cadence stepped forward. The screen displayed a video of a vast metropolis of black, twisted iron. Smoke floated up from a thousand smokestacks. Specks moved above the view. One floated up closer to the camera and resolved itself as a bat-winged horror the likes of which Cadence had never seen.

Yet the worst part wasn’t anything shown in the window. The worst part was that it was all being streamed from a ProGo camera.

“Hell is real." Cadence fell to her knees, staring blankly as she felt her whole worldview turn upside down. "Hell is real and there is a portal to it underneath our school and you’re using it to save on the electric bill.”

“In so many words, yes.”

The sheer indifference of the statement sent a shot of irritation through Cadence's blown mind. “And this doesn’t strike you as a bad idea?”

Cinch shrugged. It wasn't much of a reaction, but at least it was something. “It’s held up for decades.”

“So have I." Cadence got to her feet and marched up to Cinch. "That doesn’t mean I’m going to live forever.”

All it got her was a side glance as Cinch moved back to the laptop. “I assure you, I have overseen the generator for over thirty years now, and it requires only minimal maintenance to provide both unlimited power and a bit of a boost to student morale.”

Cadence blinked. “Excuse me?” She glanced back towards the screen, but Cinch was already closing the computer.

“Principal Sombra was a man vastly ahead of his time." Cinch waved a hand towards the glass. "The shielding is deliberately imperfect, allowing just a touch of the pit out into the building. Pride in excess is a sin, but in moderation?" She grinned, her teeth gleaming red in the hellish light. "I have no doubt it has played just as much of a role in our excellence as any other aspect of Crystal Prep.”

Cadence gulped, her knees wobbling. The indignation keeping her up was fading as the sheer scope hit her. “This is crazy. This is completely crazy.”

That got a remarkably sympathetic look from Cinch. “I thought the exact same thing when Principal Hope showed it to me back in ’81. But then I ran the numbers. Half of the students would not be able to afford the tuition here if we went back on the main grid, and many of the rest would be chased off by the sudden spike. Alternatively, we’d have to slash salaries across the board, drop some classes entirely, trade in equipment for lesser models…” She shook her head. “Don’t even get me started on what the computer labs have done to the situation since.”

“All that from the power bill?”

“And heating. Technically speaking, it’s geothermal.”

Cadence felt an eyelid twitch. “I hate it. I hate literally everything about it.”

Cinch put a hand on her shoulder. It was almost welcome. “Welcome to Crystal Prep, Cadenza. Greatness always comes with a cost.”

Two years later...

Cadence marched up the stairs to Cinch's office, clutching a manila folder like a sword to slay the dragon in her lair. It shook in her hand, her mind's eye still filled with the expression on Twilight's face while being consumed by the magic burst.

She barged into the office and slammed the folder onto the desk. "Get the fuck out of my school."

Cinch drew back as though slapped. “Excuse me!?”

“You heard me, Abacus. Twilight told me what happened, and I told the school board in turn. I left out the part where you all but ordered her to become a magical destroyer of worlds, but they were still absolutely livid at you pushing a prodigy so hard she had a breakdown in the middle of the Friendship Games. And that's not even considering your threats to sabotage the rest of her academic career. Her transfer to Canterlot High sealed the deal. You’re out of here.”

Cadence had expected a lot of possible reactions from the other woman. Fear had been low on the list, but it was still satisfying to see. “You… You can’t do this!”

“I already have.”

Cinch shook her head. “No, you don’t understand! There are things I still haven’t told you, information I was saving for my retirement!”

Cadence snorted. “Frankly, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Cadenza—“

“My name is Cadence. Principal Cadence to you.”

“Very well. Principal Cadence, please." Cinch leaned over the desk and whispered, "This concerns the generator.”

For just a moment, Cadence hesitated. She really hadn't expected Cinch to knuckle under so quickly. But Twilight's face came to mind again, and she shook her head. “I’m sure I’ll figure it out." With a smirk, she added, "After all, it’s held up for decades, hasn’t it?”

“This isn’t something you figure out by trial and error. Please, listen.”

“You threatened to ruin my future sister-in-law’s life, then drove her insane, all for an event that’s supposed to be about friendly rivalry and cooperation. If I ever see you on my campus again, I’m calling the cops." Cadence pointed to the door. "I'm not telling you again, get the hell out of my office.”

Cinch opened her mouth, but shut it again as she took in her replacement's glare. She rose and nodded. “Very well. I only hope that that phrasing does not prove all too appropriate.”

The stars of the netherworld—Tartarus, Hell, Sheol, or any number of other names humans have devised for it—are not like the ones of most universes. It is an intimate plane, one intended only for the souls of a single planet. It has neither the space nor the materials for vast balls of fusing hydrogen. No, the stars above those smoke-choked skies are portals, gates to the bright realm above. Some attempt to escape through them, and a few even succeed.

But the energies of that realm don't need to struggle. They waft through the gates and tears as effortlessly as the stink off of a landfill. And like that landfill, different regions produce different stenches. One such star, rarely wavering away from the center of the realm, began to wander towards one of the other districts of Hell.

Certain eyes watched. Certain lips smiled. Certain hands fondled. And certain minds planned.

Recover All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here

Monday at Crystal Prep started as normally as it could, given the circumstances. Some students were simply working their way back into the weekly grind. Others had to do so after watching a classmate go mad with power and blast apart chunks of reality. (Though they had to admit, that was the best assault on the Wondercolt statue in the history of the schools’ rivalry.) They sifted into the school, either from the attached dorms or the buses, and generally tried to get through their day without thinking too hard about the revelation that magic was real and Canterlot High of all places was the epicenter.

Then the PA system hissed to life, and the old revelation got booted out of most minds with an even more startling new one:

“Attention, students. This is Principal Cadence. Please report to the auditoriums. There will be a special assembly shortly.”

Confused murmurs filled the school as everyone filed in. The underclassmen went to the secondary auditoriums to the side of the main one, where projectors displayed a live feed of Cadence on the main stage.

It wasn’t quite the loving, caring dean of students everyone knew. Oh, it was still recognizably Cadence, same outfit, same hair, but before she’d always had an air of restraint or even regret. A sense that she could only do so much for the school and knew that all too well.

Now she moved up and down the stage like a comedian performing a stand-up routine, all smiling energy and rapid patter. “Good morning, everyone! I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called you here, and what happened to Abacus Cinch.

“Well, those of you who attended the Friendship Games can make an educated guess. Suffice to say, Ms. Cinch’s reputation with the school board wasn’t quite enough for her to escape the repercussions of her actions this past weekend.” Only those in the frontmost rows could make out the hint of sinister satisfaction in Cadence’s smile, and most told themselves they’d imagined it. “She was already grooming me to be her successor; we’ve just moved up the schedule a little.

“While I do wish the circumstances that got me here could have been different, I am happy to act as your principal, and to usher in a new age for Crystal Prep.” Cadence came to a stop at center stage, glee giving way to somber solemnity. “Twilight Sparkle represents a cautionary tale for the school’s current culture, and I intend to learn from the lessons she taught us. Expect more assemblies like this one in the future.” She shook herself and returned to her previous perkiness. “For this first one, I’m going to keep things simple.

“Crystal Prep as it is now is a horrifically hostile environment. It’s one thing to reach for greatness, but you don’t need to shove down everyone else while you’re doing it. This week, I ask each of you to try to do something nice for your fellow students a few times a day. Mention something you appreciate about them, congratulate them for a great play in PE, maybe even just smile as you pass one another in the hallway. Whatever it is, try to make people glad that they met you.” Cadence ended on a smile fit for a toothpaste commercial.

The reaction was much more lukewarm. Uneasy, uncertain murmuring filled the auditorium, with students looking at each other to confirm that this wasn’t all just some mass hallucination. A few offered shaky, almost painful grins to one another, while others just scrolled through social media feeds.

Cadence managed not to massage her temples. “Just try, everyone. It’s all I ask. Dismissed.”

The students flooded out of the auditorium as efficiently as they’d come in, though in different arrangements. They came in clumped according to their homerooms, but left in groups of, if not friends, then at least members of the same social circles.

Five girls in particular hadn’t really thought of one another as part of the same circle before the Friendship Games, but competing and nearly dying in the same event had a way of bringing people together.

“I’m not sure how to feel about this,” Sunny Flare said as she rubbed the devices on her wrists she refused to explain.

Sour Sweet nodded. “Right? I mean, fostering positivity, sure, sounds great.” Her uneasy smile flopped into a deep frown. “But it also sounds like turning the best school in the state into a glorified kindergarten.”

“Really, you guys? Really?”

Both turned to see something they’d hardly ever seen before: A frowning Lemon Zest. One with her headphones around her neck, no less. “Look,” said Sour, “I just don’t want our standards to slip.”

“Okay, to borrow Sunny’s catchphrase, seriously?” Lemon threw her hands into the air. “Did you miss the part with literal demon Twilight Sparkle tearing apart existence?”

“Of course not,” said Sunny. “But—”

“But butt-fuck nothing!” People stopped in the hallway to watch. Lemon paid them no heed. “Principal Cadence is right; Cinch created an environment so toxic, it made Twilight want to destroy the world! The only reason we’re even still here is because of the power of sad puppy eyes.” Uncomfortable murmuring resonated through the growing crowd.

“And the golden angel girl,” noted Indigo Zap.

“Okay, yeah, golden angel girl played a part, but we still all owe our lives to Twilight’s babby doggo and that is absurd. And why did Cinch put the thumbscrews to her? Why did we have a fucking musical number about peer pressure?” Lemon let the question hang for a moment.

Sour and Sunny shared an uneasy look, and they were far from the only ones. “For school pride?” said Sunny.

“No. To win a game of capture the fucking flag!”

Sour crossed her arms. “I liked it better when you barely paid attention to the world outside your headphones.”

“I liked it better when I barely paid attention to the world outside my headphones! But guess what? That world almost got annihilated last week, and no one’s talking about it ‘cause they’ll fall down the same existential hole I did.” Judging by the wide-eyed expressions among the listeners, many already had. “I like this universe; I live here and it’s where I keep my stuff. So if the school’s average GPA drops by point-oh-three but we all graduate sane, healthy, and alive, I call that a fair trade.”

Sugarcoat raised her eyebrows. “You assume someone else might turn into a demon.”

“That isn’t completely off the table. We don’t know how magic works. But there are mundane dangers out there too.” Lemon winced. “I hate to say this, but… given how tightly wound she was, how shitty the school was to her, would you really put it past Twilight to come in with a gun one day?”

The other girls blanched at that, trading uneasy looks. Indigo broke through the murmuring crowd. “Sh-she wouldn’t do that.”

“You stumbled there, Indy. And yeah, maybe she wouldn’t. But I could definitely see someone else cracking under the pressure and taking a lot of us with them.” Lemon’s pained gaze panned across their audience. “Or just taking themselves out of their misery. Which, for the record, everyone, I really don’t want. I don’t care if it’s a demon bent on world annihilation or a sophomore who’s had all they can take, I want us all to live ’til graduation. I’ve seen enough musician burnouts to know dying young and leaving a good-looking corpse is stupidly overrated.

“So yeah. I, for one, welcome our warm and fuzzy overlady. Even if this does turn Crystal Prep into a kindergarten, we’re getting juice, cookies, and naps out of the deal.” Lemon shrugged and attempted to smile. “Works for me.”

“This isn’t going to work, Miss Amore.”

Cadence rolled her eyes as she adjusted to her new desk. “You can call me ‘Cadence,’ Ira.”

The lilac-skinned woman just wrote something on her clipboard and went, “Hrmm.” Between her humorless expression and a suit so tightly creased, it looked like it could draw blood, it was almost like having a younger Cinch for a secretary. Only her darker purple, flyaway hair betrayed any sense of imperfection or humanity. Cadence might have told herself it was a sign of Rabia letting herself loosen up a little if she hadn’t known that hair had always been like that.

“Well, the wedding’s in a few months,” said Cadence. “so don’t get used to ‘Miss Amore’ either way.”

“Duly noted, Miss Amore.” And Ira did indeed make a note.

Cadence gave her a flat look. “I hope this isn’t going to be a trend.”

Ira didn’t even look up from the clipboard. “I could say the same for the impromptu assembly, Miss Amore.”

After a deep breath, Cadence admitted to herself that listening to Cinch’s old secretary would probably be helpful. “Alright, why don’t you think this will work?”

“For one, teenagers are nasty things. They certainly won’t act nice just because you asked them.” Ira actually looked up from the clipboard. “For another, this school has a long history of pursuing individual excellence. It’s as integral to the school as the support beams.”

“Turnover, Ira. Give a school four years and it can transform completely.”

That got a shrug. “Maybe a public school, Miss Amore. This is Crystal Prep, and the board of trustees has certain expectations that don’t go away with a few graduating classes.”

Cadence folded her arms. “The school board has certain expectations as well, and I think the trustees will agree that investigating certain parts of the school would be… detrimental to its reputation.”

“Ah, blackmail.” Ira made another note.

“Will that be a problem?”

Ira shook her head and smiled for the first time Cadence could remember. “Oh, not at all, Miss Amore. I was worried you’d be a complete one-eighty from Ms. Cinch. Finding even this much common ground comes as something of a relief.”

Cadence scowled at the comparison. “The difference is that I’m not directing my blackmail towards someone who’s only a few months past being a legal minor.”

“However you like to frame it, Miss Amore.”

“Lemon Zest.”

Lemon blinked. She’d gotten a lot of looks since her outburst that morning, some wary, some respectful. But this was the first time someone had actually come forward and said something. She should’ve figured it’d be Sugarcoat. “Yeah?”

The other girl stared straight at her, as unreadable as ever. “I admire and respect how you’ve spoken your mind with regards to Principal Cadence’s new policies.”

“Oh. Wow.” Lemon took a moment to process that. “That’s… actually legitimately touching. Thanks, Sugarcoat.” She grinned. “For what it’s worth, I can always count on you to smack me back down to earth when I’m going too far in my own head.”

Sugarcoat nodded. “Someone has to.”

“Glad it’s you.” Lemon rolled her eyes. “Especially since most of the ‘compliments’ I’ve gotten today have been about my tits.”

“Really?” Sugarcoat said, raising an eyebrow.

“Not in so many words, but let’s just say most guys I’ve passed in the hall weren’t smiling at my face. And yeah, I figured most of them couldn’t smooth-talk their way out of a paper bag, and I know I have an outstanding pair of chesticles.” Lemon thrust out her chest for emphasis, letting the softball-sized mounds speak for themselves. “It’s still nice to know I’ve made an impact with someone through something other than my strawberry-frosted cake pops, you know?”

“Hmm.” Sugarcoat narrowed her eyes. Irritation? Sympathy? Envy? Lemon couldn’t guess. “Most boys haven’t even approached me.”

The reason there, however, Lemon could definitely intuit. “Uh, not to put too fine a point on it, but how have you reacted to compliments?”

“Pointing out how I don’t deserve them.”

Lemon winced. The worst part was how Sugarcoat said that with the same disinterest as just about everything else. “And maybe, just possibly implying that the person trying to be nice to you is an idiot for saying it?”

Sugarcoat’s gaze darted away for just a moment. “Perhaps.”

Lemon gave her a friendly punch to the shoulder. “You’re better than you think you are, Sugar.”

“Let’s agree to disagree there.” Sugarcoat rubbed the point of impact.

“I have you alone every night, roomie. We are going to talk about those feelings. Mark my words.”

Sugarcoat quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a threat?”

“No! Noooo.” Lemon went from feigned shock to a wicked grin. “You don’t always follow through on a threat. That’s a promise.”

Abacus Cinch had thought she’d hit rock bottom when forced to endure a tie—a tie!—with Canterlot High in the Friendship Games. Then that traitorous fool had kicked her out of her school, and now even Abacus’s own secretary wasn’t taking her calls. If Cadenza truly cared about those students, she’d have listened to her elder rather than potentially doom every one of them.

Strictly speaking, Abacus didn’t have to do anything after that, but she had gone into education to help students realize their fullest potential. The methods might have been unpleasant, but the results spoke for themselves for those who cared to listen. She couldn’t leave them to such a fate in good conscience.

And so Abacus came to face the true meaning of rock bottom, and it looked remarkably like the front of Canterlot High. With a heavy sigh, she entered a building she’d hoped she’d seen the last of for quite some time. Her skin crawled as she imagined the bizarre mutagenic energies oozing through the place. She had seen magic. Magic didn’t make students grow wings or fire beams of light like some ridiculous cartoon. Whatever it was that had infested this school, she wanted as little to do with it as possible.

But she had to at least make the effort.

She knew where to find the principal’s office thanks to previous trips. She knocked, of course, and waited to be welcomed in. After that, she began the moment she opened the door. “Principal Celestia. There is an urgent matter—”

“Cadence already told me about your termination, Abacus,” said Celestia, not even glancing up from her paperwork.

“Yes, that’s precisely why—”

“I thought you’d be desperate between that and the incident at the Friendship Games, but I never thought you’d actually come to see me. Certainly not in person. The fact that you even set foot in CHS when the Games weren’t underway...” Celestia trailed off and shook her head.

Abacus moved directly in front of Celestia. “Then you understand just how critical the matter is. I—”

“I could not care less.” Celestia moved on to the next form.

“You don’t understand. This—”

Celestia looked up, and the sheer hostility made the sentence die in Abacus’s mouth. “No, Abacus, you don’t understand. You were fired. I don’t have to make nice with you for the sake of appearances anymore, which comes as quite the relief since I had to do the work for both of us. Indeed, the only reason you aren’t in prison is because the charges don’t exist yet.”

The phrasing raised certain horrible suspicions in the back of Abacus’s mind. “What precisely did Cadenza tell you?”

“Enough. Which is exactly how much I have had of you. And now I’m going to tell you what I’ve wanted to say for every Friendship Games I’ve had to preside over.” Celestia pointed at the door. “Get the hell out of my school.”

“I see.” Abacus nodded. “Very well. I can tell when I’m not wanted.”

“Good. I’m not sure I could have been more obvious without a shotgun.”

That decided, Abacus moved across the hall and raised a fist.

However, the vice principal’s office was already open. Luna might have been smiling, but she seemed no more willing to listen than her sister. “I’ve been listening ever since I heard your voice, Abacus. By all means, ask for my help. Fair warning, Celestia’s always been the polite one.” She pulled open a drawer in her desk and began rummaging through music players and other confiscated items. “No shotguns in here, but I’m sure I can find something that will get you out of the building.”

“The heck is she doin’ here?”

Abacus turned and saw the last seven people she’d ever wanted to see. Especially Twilight Sparkle, who cringed at the sight of her and hid behind her new gaggle of ne’er-do-wells.

But they were still some of the most supernaturally experienced people Abacus knew. So she plastered on a smile and said, “Ah, just the girls I was hoping to talk to.”

The one who’d directly confronted the monstrous Twilight moved to intercept her approach. “Whatever you want with Twilight, you’re not getting her.”

“Twilight? The last thing I want is her back in Crystal Prep.” As long as Cadenza failed to appreciate the dangers of the generator, it was the last thing Abacus wanted for anyone. “There is another problem—”

The orange girl—Sunset, that was her name—glared at her with even greater ferocity than Celestia. And for the briefest moment, her irises glowed, seeming to cast her sclera into shadow. “We. Don’t. Care.”

Abacus drew back a step, then coughed into a fist. “I see. Well then. Good day.”

She strode out of the building with a clear conscience. She could hardly be blamed if no one wanted to listen to her warnings, and she knew better than to deal with beings of power unprepared. Besides, she’d always heard that Bermuleda was beautiful this time of year.

Days passed. Between gentle reminders during the morning announcements, repeated practice, and Cinch’s absence, smiles came easier to the students, though the same couldn’t be said about eye contact. As moods improved with no impact on performance, or even beneficial ones in some cases, many teachers joined in encouraging the friendlier atmosphere.

Connections formed. Positivity built upon itself. Social strata that had built up over years of tradition, passed down from senior to freshman… didn’t vanish overnight, but did show signs of erosion as talking to people outside of a pre-established social circle became more acceptable.

The board of trustees hated it.

Fortunately, recent modernizations had made it so they wouldn’t yell at Cadence in person. Videoconferencing had eased the burden of travel for the board, most of whom were pushing eighty and far more willing to complain remotely.

As such, Cadence just had to look at several scowling, wrinkled faces on a screen. “You have taken some very radical steps, Principal Amore,” said one especially sour old prune, though her green skin seemed more suitable for a lime abandoned in the back of a crisper drawer. “And your failure to consult with us has not gone unnoticed.”

“With all due respect, Chairwoman Rabia, the Friendship Games clearly illustrated a need for immediate, radical change to avert another tragedy of similar scale.”

Rabia sneered. “That may be your opinion, Principal Amore—”

“And that of the school board,” said Cadence.

The chairwoman of the board frowned even more at that. “Yes, and theirs as well. I will have words with Neighsay. But the fact remains that Crystal Prep has procedures in place which you did not follow.” The other council members gave affirmative mutters of their own.

Cadence took a deep breath before answering. “Ma’am, I asked the students to be nice to one another. I have done nothing to the academic standards, the uniform policy, not even the cafeteria menu. All I did was make a polite request.” She very carefully didn’t smile as she added, “You will find that there is nothing in the school’s procedures that requires the board’s approval before the principal can make a suggestion.”

Rabia grunted in displeasure. “Perhaps we will need to review that in the future.”

“If you want to run the school yourself, ma’am, you’re welcome to try.” Cadence let the idea run through Rabia’s mind, watching her eyes widen with a blend of rage and horror. “I understand that you don’t want me to overstep my bounds. I ask that you show me the same respect and stay within yours.”

Silence reigned for a few seconds. “Very well,” said Rabia. “Still, we would like to know if you plan any more of these little assemblies in the future.”

“I plan on several of them as the situation develops. And, in the event that my suggestions brush against changes that would require the board’s approval, I will alert you ahead of time.” Cadence offered her friendliest smile. “I trust that that will be acceptable?”

“For the time being. Please do keep us posted.”

“Of course. Have a good day, everyone. As always, your input is greatly valued.” Cadence disconnected from the call, then let out a long sigh. “If nothing else, they definitely value it. Honestly. I just asked the students to be a bit nicer. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Lemon Zest tossed and turned in her bed, toes curling and mind whirling. She tried counting sheep, imagining a cold shower, picturing her grandmother naked.

She grumbled as she opened her eyes. It was no good. She was too horny to sleep.

At first, boys being drawn to her chest had been irritating. Then it became a little flattering. Then she’d caught herself fantasizing eyes on her even when no one was there, a hundred imaginary watchers with gazes glued on her tits, her ass, every inch of her. The locker room had become a wonderful sort of torment.

She’d hoped the weekend would lessen matters, but that had just meant she’d had more freedom to move where she wished, along with her fantasy spectators. And being outside just gave them more room, until it felt like there was a whole music festival dedicated to seeing her squirm.

And the worst part of all was that she couldn’t do anything about it. It wasn’t like she could finger herself in the bathroom between classes; privacy at Crystal Prep was a rare and precious thing, as were free toilets. And even with more smiles in the hallways, the rumor mill was absolutely merciless. An hour after Lemon shook hands with the little man in the canoe, the whole school would know.

As for bed, Lemon had a roommate, and Sugarcoat was a light enough sleeper that she could wake herself up by criticizing her own dreams.

But even as Lemon thought that, the flush in her cheeks and heat in her crotch only intensified. She knew she liked having an audience. Sure, Sugar wasn’t her first choice, but having someone to perform for would still be hot. And once the thought wormed its way into her mind, she couldn’t get rid of it.

“Okay, look,” she whispered to herself. “Tomorrow’s Monday. I can’t afford to lose sleep. So I rub one out real quick, release some tension, and we’re cool. Right?”

Lemon didn’t get an answer, of course, but she imagined that her body was happy with anything that involved an orgasm.

She moved a hand down as quietly as she could, pulling up the oversized band T-shirt she used for pajamas and moving her panties aside. As she teased her lips with a finger, she shut her eyes and imagined the crowd. The cheering throngs watching as she stripped off every piece of her uniform, exposing every inch of herself for their eyes. Tossing every scrap of clothing to her audience, knowing she’d never see any of it again.

In reality, her other hand pulled up the shirt further, exposing her breasts and letting her massage one along with her slit. In the fantasy, she went so much further. Bringing out toys, rolling both breasts in her hands for the audience, lying on her back and spreading her lower lips for all to see.

“Come on!” she called to the crowd from the same spot where Principal Cadence delivered her Monday speech. “Join in! Let’s really make friends!” She slipped a finger inside of herself in her mind and in her bed.

Lemon watched her dozens of admirers watch her. Saw them stroke themselves because of her. Feeling that pleasure thanks to her, unable to look away, barely even blinking.

She barely even noticed when she wriggled out of her panties or kicked the covers off her bed. The sudden chill against the beads of sweat on her skin just provided another bit of sensory thrill.

As her pulse raced and one finger in her snatch became two, the fantasy crowd’s last scrap of restraint broke. They mobbed the stage, clothes gone, dicks swinging. Lemon welcomed them. Cocks in her hands, her mouth, her pussy, everywhere a length of flesh could go, even if the bodies couldn’t have fit. She was surrounded by their love, their adoration, their need.

Two hands weren’t enough to capture the feeling in reality, but Lemon tried her hardest. Three fingers plunged in and out her as her thumb rubbed her clit. She’d balled her other hand into a fist, biting on it to muffle her squeals, but it just wasn’t enough.

Just as she pulled her knuckles out of her mouth, the sound of a throat being cleared hit her like a bucket of cold water. Slowly, fearfully, Lemon turned to Sugarcoat’s bed. “Uh…”

“I know what you’re doing.”

“W-well, I, uh…” Lemon sat up and groped for her sheet. She should’ve been able to find it easily, given how her face was burning. “Sorry.”

In the exact same tone as before, Sugarcoat said, “I didn’t say stop.”

The realization went through Lemon’s mind like a lightning bolt. Sugarcoat could hear her. She knew. She was, in a sense, watching.

She liked it.

The fantasy resumed, Lemon getting wrecked in every way imaginable. And, somehow visible through the layers of men trying to get at her, Sugarcoat sat in a seat of honor like a theater box, watching with the slightest curve of a smile. But in reality, Lemon sat up, legs wide, exposing herself to Sugarcoat in the darkness, playing up her gasps and moans. It was a performance, and a sweet gig at that.

Lemon panted as she and the fantasy both built to a climax, one hand working a breast while the other pistoned in and out of her. She pinched a nipple and gave the lightest scratch she could to her clit, and came like she’d been pent up for years. Every hair on her body stood on end. She even saw stars. The afterglow was like a palmful of water after dragging herself through the desert.

She didn’t even bother putting her shirt back down, pulling the covers back up as the mellow feeling gave way to sleep. Though she could’ve sworn she heard short gasps of breath coming from the other bed as well.

Author's Note

More's to come. We're just getting started.

Out of Limbo

Lemon Zest had heard about the strange creatures known as “morning people.” She thought they were as real as unicorns. Less real, given recent events. Anyone who didn’t wake up grudgingly to an alarm blaring sick guitar licks clearly wasn’t human.

“Your panties are still on the floor.”

Sugarcoat, who was awake and already in her uniform, if still brushing out her hair, was clearly a robot.

After a few moments, the comment pierced the morning fog in Lemon’s mind, much as the morning air hit her nipples. She yelped as she yanked her shirt down. “Shit, that actually happened?”

“That actually happened,” said Sugarcoat, handing Lemon her discarded underwear.

“Thanks.” Lemon threw her covers over her head and got herself a bit more decent. “So, uh, about last night…”

“I’m not looking for a serious relationship, but our fetishes happen to synergize.” When Lemon got out of bed, Sugarcoat looked at her as neutrally as if they were discussing the weather. “I’m happy to watch if you want to give me something to watch.”

“The lights were off.”

Sugarcoat shrugged. “They don’t have to be next time.”

Lemon thought about it. Okay, so Sugar wasn’t a robot, but it was still incredibly weird to think of her in a sexual context. “And no one else has to know?”

Another shrug. “Do you want them to?”

That gave Lemon pause for a few moments. Adding to the spectacle did actually sound nice. But even with Principal Cadence’s reforms in progress, this was still Crystal Prep. No sense in giving the crowd something to use against her. “No?” It still came out as uncertain as she felt.

Sugarcoat just nodded as she started the process of getting her hair in place. “Then I won’t say anything. I don’t really care either way.”

“Huh.” Lemon took in the last few minutes. “That was a lot simpler than I expected it to be.”

“Most drama is founded on poor or nonexistent communication.” Sugarcoat let go of the last of her hair ties with a sharp snap. “I don’t have that problem.”

Lemon smirked. “You don’t say.”

“I do. Now hurry up and get ready, it’s Monday.”

“Right, right.” Lemon sighed as she got her shower stuff. Friend with benefits or no, she still had school.

The halls seemed transformed from a week ago. Lingering fear and existential uncertainty had given way to warm feelings and the heady aftereffects of a much more restful weekend.

Yet Principal Cadence’s announcement came all the same: “Hello, Crystal Prep, and welcome to a new week. I ask that everyone please join me for a brief assembly in the auditoriums.”

The students filtered into their places as before. Once more, Cadence stood on the main stage, smiling with the openness and eagerness she’d developed since taking the position. But this time, she seemed more contained. If she had been anyone else, she might have even come across as a bit smug. She seemed less a performing comedian and more a tech executive presenting a new product.

“I am very happy with how everyone embraced my suggestions last week,” she said. “Indeed, some of your peers actually came to me with some of their own. They wish to remain anonymous, but some of their contributions were so helpful, I want to give the whole school a chance to make their voice heard.”

Cadence raised a hand in the general direction of her office. “Starting this week, you will find a suggestion box by my office door. Just leave a slip of paper with your thoughts on how we can improve Crystal Prep inside and I’ll take it under consideration.” She shook her head, still smiling. “Now, that isn’t a guarantee I’ll act on it, and abusing the privilege will see it removed. But I do want everyone here to feel like their voices matter.

“On that note, I’d like to make a very special announcement regarding one of the suggestions from last week. Beginning this week, the blacklist for Crystal Prep’s Internet will be significantly relaxed outside of class hours.” Cadence waited a few moments for the murmurs to die down before continuing. “You’ll still be expected to complete all homework assignments and use approved sources for research, but when your work is finished, you don’t need to rely on your phones for social networking.” The smile shifted into a smirk as she saw most of the front rows look away from the stage. “And don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ll be pleased to hear that restrictions on mobile devices have also been lifted to the same degree: You’re allowed to use them for more than calls, but during school hours, you’d better be using them for academic tasks.

“That isn’t the only suggestion I’ll be acting on, but it is the only one that’s made enough progress for me to share it with you all. Keep up the good work, everyone. Dismissed.”

Lemon Zest staggered out of the auditorium, still processing the announcements. “Wow. Wow. She actually went there.”

“I know!” said Indigo Zap. “I mean, everyone does it, but to hear the principal acknowledge it, and then say ‘Screw it, have your fun?’ Okay, Principal Cadence has officially won me over.”

“I don’t,” said Sugarcoat.

Sunny Flare quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t what?”

“Look at social media on my phone.”

“Sugarcoat, you don’t use social media at all.”

That got a shrug. “I may pick it up if I want to replace my usual festering pool of humanity’s worst.”

“But then there’s that suggestion box idea.” Sour Sweet grimaced. “Oh, that’ll go swimmingly, I’m sure.”

Lemon winced in turn. “Yeah, that could go real bad. How long do you think until she decides to put it away?”

“Two weeks,” said Sunny.

“One,” countered Sour.

Sugarcoat shook her head. “If it’s still there on Friday, I’ll be surprised.”

Indigo made a flatulent noise with her lips. “May as well get my idea in there before some ass ruins it for the rest of us, then.”

The others nodded and made concurring noises before stopping and trading surprised looks.

“Wait,” said Sour, “do we all have genuine, unironic ideas about how to improve Crystal Prep?”

“I suspect every student does, for a given value of ‘improve.’” Sugarcoat didn’t even need fingers for the air quotes; her intonation did all the work.

“So…” Indigo hazarded a smile. “The suggestion box could actually work.”

Sunny shrugged. “Much in the same way we could all win the lottery on the same day, yes.”

Lemon smirked. “So you’re saying there’s a chance.”

“I guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Sunny glanced back at the auditorium. “Though I do have to wonder what other suggestions Principal Cadence is already acting on.”

First Folio moved into the principal’s office more warily than an outside observer might expect for a teacher. But if nothing else, Abacus Cinch had left a reputation. It still clung to her old place of power like a bad smell, no matter how much Cadence tried to lighten up the room with softer furnishings and actual lighting. First’s already pale complexion had gone nearly white, and she ran her fingers through her bob cut like she expected a few more pale lavender hairs in what had once been solid purple.

Still, she relaxed as Cadence greeted her with a smile. “You wanted to see me, ma’am?” First said as she sat.

“Yes, First.” The smile fell, just leaving Cadence. She shuffled through some documents on her desk, some for show, others notes she’d taken while preparing for this meeting. “Some of the students have expressed… concerns about your approach to sex ed.”

First relaxed enough to roll her eyes. “Well, of course they would. I still remember what it was like at that age. So sure you’re immortal and invulnerable, not knowing it could take just one mistake to send your life spiraling down the drain as all your hopes and dreams come crashing down to harsh reality.”

Cadence managed to hold back her response to “How is your sister?”

“All the better for your asking, as is Moondancer.” First hazarded a smile. “Now, surely a few misguided kids aren’t enough to call for a performance review.”

“Normally, they wouldn’t be.” Cadence flipped to the notes, her expression grim. “But based on what they’ve told me, you’ve deviated from the planned curriculum by a wide margin.”

First squirmed in her seat. “W-well, I don’t know if I’d put it quite like that.”

“They already have. Ira?”

The secretary emerged from shadows that no amount of halogen bulbs could disperse from the room, her clipboard holding her own copies of the notes. “Upon their bringing the issue to our attention, Principal Cadence and I have asked your current students for examples of your lessons. Highlights include the following: If you perform or receive fellatio, you’ll be forced to perform the same for demons when you go to Tartarus. If you perform or receive cunnilingus, you’ll be forced to perform fellatio for demons when you go to Tartarus. If you perform or receive analingus, as above, save that you will do so neck-deep in excrement.” Ira looked up from the list and quirked an eyebrow. “Honestly, ma’am, all but a few end with a demon’s phallus in the perpetrator’s mouth.”

Cadence turned to First and matched Ira’s expression. “Anything you’d like to add, First?”

“I’m just trying to keep them safe,” said First, wearing an indignant scowl. “Abacus never had an issue with my teaching methods!”

Ira shook her head. “If I may be frank, Ms. Folio, Ms. Cinch didn’t notice. There is no hard metric for sexual education.”

“And you’ll find that I’m not Abacus,” added Cadence. “You’re not fired, First, but you’re certainly not teaching upperclassman health classes again, effective tomorrow.”

“What? But who will finish the classes this year?”

“We have several candidates already lined up.” Cadence offered a reassuring smile. “Rest assured, First, anything the students do over the summer will be safe, sane, and consensual.”

That just sent the teacher sputtering out of the office.

After a moment, Cadence groaned and facepalmed. “I could’ve phrased that better.”

“Very probably, Miss Amore.”

“It just kind of flowed out after ‘safe.’”

A feather-light touch made Cadence look up to see Ira trying to pat her on the shoulder without actually disturbing her jacket. “No need to justify yourself to me, ma’am. I pride myself on being as nonjudgemental as possible.”

That put a lopsided grin on Cadence’s face. “Even with First?”

Ira shrugged. “I merely stated the facts. She has conviction in her beliefs. It is misguided, but still admirable in its own way.”

“The world could use more people like you, Ira.”

“Perhaps,” said the secretary. She flashed the barest hint of a smirk before flipping through the other documents on her clipboard. “So, those candidates you mentioned?”

Cadence leaned back in her chair and groaned. “Pardon my language, but all I have are a pair of twins, Fuck and All. But I can’t let that woman keep spreading flagrant misinformation in good conscience.”

Ira hummed to herself. “Have you considered taking over yourself, ma’am?”

“I couldn’t…” Cadence cut off the reflexive response and actually thought about it. “Well, I suppose I could fill in for the rest of the semester, but I already have enough on my plate. What happens if someone’s sent to my office and I’m busy putting a condom on a banana?”

“Firstly, ma’am, this is Crystal Prep. If a student gets sent to your office, it’s because you asked to see them. Secondly, you’re already working double duty. You never assigned a new dean of students after your rather…” Ira cleared her throat. “Abrupt promotion.”

“That still takes us from finding a new teacher to a new dean.”

Ira shook her head. “The key difference, ma’am, is that while I’m not qualified to teach sex ed, I can certainly act as a capable dean.”

“Really?” Cadence frowned in thought. “I don’t want to overburden you.”

“Nor I you. It’s my job to make yours easier, Miss Amore. I’ll happily help the students as part of that.” That might have come across as reassuring if Ira had ever shifted her usual, humorless expression as she’d said it.

Still, Cadence had to admit she didn’t have any better options. Compassion and empathy were rare commodities in the Crystal Prep faculty. “If you’re sure.”

“Completely.”

“Very well, Dean Ira.” Cadence opened one of the desk drawers and extracted a several-inch-thick pile of folders. “I suggest you get reading. Your next appointment’s at two today.”

Ira took in the student folders for a few silent moments. Finally, she nodded. “Understood, Miss Amore. Well played.”

From the moment Crystal Prep got a schoolwide Internet connection, Abacus Cinch had carefully curated what sites students could actually access. From the earliest days of the Internet, she saw its potential as both educational aide and inescapable time sink, and knew with her typical self-assurance that it would turn out more of the latter than the former.

As technology improved, so did the CPA network, and the blacklist grew along with it. Students were free to search archives of scientific journal articles, poems, historical documents, and more. But diverging from that to, say, MyStable, EweTube, or even Quickipedia would get nothing but “Access Denied.”

As of that Monday, that changed. While class was in session, it was as before, students expected to keep their minds and browsers on schoolwork. But once the final bell rang, the blacklist went inactive.

The first peeks across the once-impassable barrier came slowly and tentatively. A peek at Quickipedia here. A look at MovieTropes there. Then those first daring pioneers went to social media to confirm that the restrictions had indeed lifted.

Less than an hour later, Crystal Prep’s Internet traffic had more than doubled.

Cadence took a deep breath before opening the video chat. Forward momentum was a good thing, but she knew she couldn’t get cocky. Still, she’d come prepared. “Hello, Chairwoman Rabia,” she said once she was connected. “Members of the board.”

“Principal Amore,” drawled Rabia. “So kind of you to touch base with us. To what do I owe the honor?”

“As I said, while I am taking suggestions under my own advisement, making actionable changes with some of them clearly requires the board’s approval. And so I come to you.”

Rabia scowled. Probably. It wasn’t easy to distinguish from her usual expression. “As opposed to the school’s Internet policy.” The other members of the board made indistinct grumbling noises of their own.

Cadence shrugged. “Principal Cinch did leave that to her personal discretion when establishing the school’s network.”

“True,” Rabia conceded. “We may need to revisit what else she did without our oversight soon. Now, what did you have in mind today?”

“After opening my office to suggestions from the students, one topic in particular has come up time and time again. I did some research, and I found that the policy in question has barely been touched since the school was founded.”

“Interesting.” Rabia leaned back, letting Cadence see her cross her arms. “It sounds to me like we have a case of an enduring tradition that is best left unaltered.”

“And if I’d heard a single positive thing about it, I might be inclined to agree,” said Cadence. “To be frank, I remember my time as a student here, and I still share a number of the complaints brought to my desk this week.”

“Pardon me,” said Firelight, one of the youngest members of the board, which still put him well into middle age. He ran purple fingers through his sea-green combover and continued, “I fear Principal Amore has neglected to mention what she’s actually referring to.” That got a muddled mix of agreement from the others.

“It’s very hard to determine whether this is a wise course of action when we don’t know what’s being acted upon,” added Mr. Waddle.

Cadence nodded. “Very true. Interesting that Chairwoman Rabia seemed ready to oppose changing anything.”

“Whereas you seem to favor change for change’s sake,” Rabia shot back. “Even if every policy you enact helps the school individually, enacting too many at once could send the entire institution into chaos.”

“I like to think that Crystal Prep is a robust enough institution that it can survive getting dragged into the twenty-first century.”

“Yes, yes, you’re both very important and don’t like each other much. We have firmly established that at this point. What are we discussing?” Firelight paled as the silence stretched out. “Er, Chairwoman. Principal.” More quietly, he added, “I thought I was on mute.”

While several board members scowled and muttered dark sentiments about young upstarts, Cadence offered a warm smile. “You’re right, Mr. Firelight, I’ve dragged this out enough, and for that I apologize. Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I’d like to discuss Crystal Prep’s uniform policy.”

She actually did go on mute for the next five minutes. It wasn’t like she’d have gotten a word in edgewise.

No one could say who let their curiosity slip first. Sure, thought several students, the restrictions had been lifted, but there was lifted, and there was lifted. Surely there were still some limits in place.

But no. Every attempt, no matter how dubious or infamous the site, got through.

Many students went through the same trail of logic. After several trials, they came to the real reason why they wanted to test how far they could now go. So they licked their lips, opened a private window, and entered the URL.

And PornDiscovery loaded as readily as any other site.

Some closed the tab at that point, curiosity satisfied. Others, among them the few who’d been willing to spend cellular data and risk discovery to watch porn on their phones, surreptitiously bookmarked some promising videos for when their roommates were out of the room.

“Oh, fuck yes.”

When Lemon Zest later heard about those people, she called them cowards.

“What did you find?” said Sugarcoat, glancing up from a novel.

“The mother lode of cheese.” Lemon’s shoulders shook with barely contained glee as she took in the video playing on her laptop. “Oh, we’re gettin’ the girls together this weekend. This is too good not to share.”

“Interesting.” Sugarcoat turned back to her book and turned a page. “Use the hand sanitizer before you touch anything.”

Lemon gave a thumbs up with the hand that wasn’t rubbing her clit. “You got it, Sugar.”

Strictly speaking, students who’d transferred weren’t Cadence’s responsibility. Given everything she had to work on, she didn’t really have time to worry about one either.

She smiled as the door to a familiar house opened. “Hi, Twilight.”

But some things were important.

“Hi, Cadence,” said Twilight Sparkle. “Thanks for coming. It, well…” She wrung her hands as they went up to her bedroom. “It hasn’t always been easy adjusting to Canterlot High. And I could use a sympathetic ear. Not that Mom and Dad aren’t sympathetic! But neither of them was there, and I don’t think either quite believes it happened, even with the footage from the Friendship Games.”

Cadence nodded as they sat next to one another on Twilight’s bed. “I was there and I have trouble believing it happened.”

Spike looked up from his doggy bed and said, “It happened.”

Right. That was a thing now. Cadence took great pride in not shrieking like Shining when he saw a spider in the shower.

“Could we get a little privacy, please?” said Twilight.

“Sure, sure.” Spike turned his best puppy-dog eyes on Cadence. “You’ll make her feel better, right?”

She smiled. Talking dog or not, they both only wanted the best for Twilight. “Of course.”

“Good.”

Once Spike had scampered out of the room, Twilight sighed and said, “Intellectually, I know I should probably speak with someone who has a bit more emotional distance. Realistically, no one else would believe me, and I can’t help but think that some might institutionalize me, or at least prescribe antipsychotics. And emotionally, well…” She offered a shaky smile. “You’ve always been like the big sister I’ve never had.”

That got a grin from Cadence. “And in a few months…”

The sentence trailed off, and Twilight just blinked up at her without comprehension. “What? What happens in a few months?”

Cadence frowned. “Shining didn’t tell you?”

“Clearly not, as I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“We’ll get back to that. And I will have words with him.” Cadence shook off the sour mood. “I know you said you’ve been having a rough time adjusting. How’s CHS been treating you?”

“It’s…” Twilight bit her lip, screwing up her face as she thought. “Well, it turns out that the Many Worlds interpretation of quantum physics is true.”

Cadence blinked. “Oh. Well. Their science department must be a lot better than I realized.”

“No, I found that out on my own,” said Twilight, staring straight at nothing. “When my parallel universe counterpart walked out of the statue that I blew up with my stolen pony magic and talked about her personal experience with closed timelike curves.”

Cadence rubbed the girl’s back. “Deep breaths, Twilight.”

“Did I mention she’s a princess? Because she’s a princess. And also a horse.” Twilight whipped her head up to Cadence, a rictus grin on her face. “So are you, apparently!”

“Twilight. With me.” Cadence breathed in calm, breathed out stress, guiding the flow with a hand. She repeated it a few times, Twilight following suit. Once they seemed clear of the danger, Cadence said, “Better?”

“Better. Sorry. Just…” Twilight shook her head. “Finemare’s bongos, the implications.”

Cadence held back the laugh, but she couldn’t help but grin a little. “You’re really still swearing by famous scientists?” Twilight had picked up the habit when she was ten.

“They’re as worthy of reverence as outmoded belief systems.”

Cadence couldn’t help but think of what lay in Crystal Prep’s basement. She cleared her throat. “Right. So aside from having your mind blown, how’s it been?”

“Well, horse-princess-me built up a repu—” Twilight winced halfway through the word. “She did a lot of good work there on the supernatural front, and that endeared her to the student body. So the good news is everyone recognizes and likes someone with my face.”

“And the bad news?”

“They expect me to be someone whose literal title is ‘the Princess of Friendship.’”

Cadence nodded. “I can see how that would be bothersome for you.”

“It’s the frequency more than anything. People at CHS accept ‘She’s my equine doppelganger’ as an explanation far more easily than I thought they would, but the sheer quantity of times I have to do it is exhausting.” Twilight sighed, leaning on Cadence’s shoulder. “I feel like I’ve talked to everyone there at this point.”

That got a smile as Cadence removed Twilight’s hair tie, running her fingers through the girl’s ponytail. “Well, that should mean you won’t have to tell anyone else.”

All that got was a disgruntled “Hrmm.”

“In all seriousness, the gossip circuit should do your work for you at this point. And it could be that people who heard you’re different from this other Twilight may want to get to know you for you.”

“Well…” Twilight took a few moments to mull that over. “I guess. That never really occurred to me. And a few of the clubs there do look interesting. It’s just that I’m still getting used to socializing with Sunset Shimmer’s friends, much less expanding my social circle beyond them.”

“They don’t feel like your friends yet?”

“It’s getting there, but…” Twilight sighed. “Sunset Shimmer.”

Cadence raised an eyebrow. That was an intriguing sigh. “What about her?”

“She’s, she’s just… wow, and I’m meh.”

“You know,” Cadence said with a smile, “this sounds awfully familiar.”

Twilight straightened up. “How so?”

“I’ve heard very similar thoughts from your brother when it came to a certain girl he was interested in.”

“I-I never said I was interested in…” Twilight paused mid-fluster. “Wait. Who?”

— — — — —

Twily

You’re getting married. To Cadence. AND YOU DIDN’T TELL ME‽

Did you actually copy-paste an interrobang just for that sentence?

MY OUTRAGE CANNOT BE ADEQUATELY EXPRESSED THROUGH STANDARD PUNCTUATION!

— — — — —

“Honestly,” Twilight growled as she glared at her phone.

Cadence forced the girl’s hands down with gentle pressure from one of her own. “Don’t worry, I’ll deal with him. Now, I believe you were saying something about Sunset Shimmer?”

Twilight blushed and fidgeted. “Um, well… Oh! You’ll never guess who showed up at CHS the other day.”

Cadence allowed her the distraction. “Well, I probably know them if you’re bringing them up…” She thought for a moment. “I don’t suppose your teammates from the Friendship Games came by?”

“No. It was, uh, Princi… Well, former Principal Cinch.”

And like that, Cadence’s good mood vanished. “Really.”

“She insisted there was something really important.” Twilight frowned in thought. “And I suppose if she even got near CHS outside of the Games, she meant it.”

Cadence patted her on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Twilight. Whatever it was, I’m sure only bitter old women would think it was a problem.” She grinned. “Now, Going back to Sunset Shimmer.”

“Um…”

“Based on what I saw of her at the Friendship Games I have some… suggestions to offer there…”

Crystal Prep’s Internet usage rose by an order of magnitude that first night. The student body’s consumption of facial tissues followed suit, and then some.

Author's Note

Yeah, this one's mostly setup. Rest assured, it's going somewhere.

Also, this Derpibooru image nicely demonstrates how Sugarcoat does her hair.

Swept Up in the Excitement

Cadence and Shining had been cohabitating for longer than either wanted to admit to their families. Their bed had seen its share of activities of all kinds. Tonight would be far from the first time where Shining tried to stuff his foot in his mouth. "So apparently Twily is so mad about the wedding, she's using interrobangs."

Cadence gave him a gentle shove and pouted. "She's not mad about the wedding, she's mad you didn't tell her. And frankly, so am I.” She grinned. “But I do know how you can make it up to us."

Shining shrugged. "With Twily, I figured I just needed to get her a book."

"Better idea: Show some interest in her new friends."

That got an uncertain grumble. "The ones at Canterlot High?"

"Look, I know they were a joke when we went to Crystal Prep, but my aunts have really fixed up the place. And based on what I saw at the Friendship Games, they're good kids.” Cadence took Shining’s hand in hers. “Plus, Twilight could really use some reassurance from her BBBFF about her new friends. This is new territory for her, and a little emotional support could go a long way."

"Well, after what Cinch did…” Shining’s jaw and fists tightened as he thought about that. Once he unclenched, he said, “I can manage. At the end of the day, it is just a high school rivalry."

She smiled and nodded, trying to shake some feeling back into her hand as subtly as she could. "Exactly. Now, as for me, you just need to do me a little favor."

The resolve almost visibly drained out of Shining’s expression. "When you say favor, do you mean getting you yogurt next time I'm at the grocery store, or getting you tampons next time I'm at the grocery store?"

After a bit of deliberation, which Cadence only drew out a little bit, she said, "I'd say it's closer to yogurt. You see, I've had to take over senior-year sex ed for the rest of the semester—”

“I thought you were principal now.”

“We don’t have anyone else in the current staff who I trust to handle the topic. The classes are working through generalities now, but it won’t be long before we hit specifics for the boys that I won't be able to answer. Do you think you can take a little time off to help me?" Cadence wasn’t above batting her lashes to emphasize the question.

Shining sighed, crumpling like wet cardboard. "I do have some vacation days saved up, but I’ll need at least a week’s notice to actually use them. And... would it be possible to do it in a separate classroom? You know, for the students’ sake."

She shook her head. "That's part of the favor."

"Harsh."

Cadence grinned and poked him in the side. "I'm still telling you about it beforehand."

“Oh, it’s fair. But still harsh.”

"Happy Tuesday, everyone. One fairly major announcement today; I'd announce this in the auditorium, but its subject insisted otherwise.

"As much as I'd love to be able to provide all the attention and effort that Crystal Prep deserves, no one person possibly could. As such, Ms. Ira Vehementi will be taking on the role of dean of students. You'll be able to speak to her in my old office. I hope you hold her in the same confidence you've held me.”

Cadence gave Ira a wry look after turning off the PA system. "I can't believe you refused to let me give a proper announcement for this."

Ira just shrugged, looking neutral as ever. "Auditorium assemblies are time-consuming, ma’am. We can’t have one every day."

"You'll be working with the students now. You should get some visibility with them."

All that got was another shrug. "We can worry about that when they start making appointments, ma'am."

Cadence held back a sigh. "Well, any other news to worry about?"

Ira flipped through a few of the pages on her ever-present clipboard. "There's been a spike in after-school Internet usage, but that's to be expected."

"No sign of any distraction in class?"

"Nothing worth worrying about, ma'am," Ira said with a shake of the head.

Cadence folded her arms under her breasts. "What do you think isn't worth worrying about?"

"There have been a few complaints, but they’re more on principle than for any specific issues. Comparable to First Folio's objections to your changes to the sex ed curriculum."

Cadence nodded in understanding. "More of the old guard complaining that something changed?"

"Just so, ma'am."

Cadence spun back to her desk, ready to get the day’s paperwork done early. "Well, they'll have to deal with it. I said I wasn't going to be Cinch.” She side-eyed Ira. “Though I'm surprised they didn't come to me directly."

"You've been occupied with rebuilding the school and planning a curriculum, ma’am. The least I can do is deal with petty complaints so you don’t have to. Besides, as dean of students, it's my responsibility to handle the children's issues so you don't have to.” The edges of Ira’s mouth curled up just a touch. “I interpret that as applying to children of all ages, including those fifty-five and up."

Cadence caught herself snickering. "Was that a joke, Ms. Vehementi?"

She could neither confirm nor deny the presence of any smiles on Ira’s face at the time. "I do have a sense of humor, ma'am. I just keep it to myself most of the time."

Sour Sweet knew she wasn’t entirely sane. Her mood swings weren’t all biting sarcasm or general bitchiness; sometimes her mind had to cover for what her brain did without her input. Worse, she occasionally saw things that weren’t there. Not to the degree where she’d fall out of her chair trying to swat hallucinatory spiders, but enough that sometimes she had to take a moment to make sure something was real. It was why she’d taken an interest in archery. It was all about focus, control, figuratively and literally pinning down the real.

She’d known seeing what wasn’t there was bad. She hadn’t realized seeing what was could be worse.

Something at Canterlot High had seemed to provoke her delusions. She knew there weren’t any girls with horse ears and hair down to their shins in the CHS team, but she couldn’t just tell her brain to knock it off.

Then a giant mass of tentacles burst into the arena in the middle of the relay, and other people were running from it.

Then one girl grew honest-to-goodness wings.

Then Twilight and the Sun-something girl…

Sour had needed a few moments to realize that that debacle had been over and done with. The two hadn’t looked any different to her after the final lightshow, but given how everyone else had seemed to calm down, she was the only one still seeing laser wings and fire glasses.

Thankfully, Crystal Prep seemed normal by comparison. Moreso than usual, even considering Principal Cadence’s reforms.

Then came today. Sour had spotted her twin sister and had been trying to remember if Sweeten Sour went to Crystal Prep, CHS, or nowhere at all because she didn’t actually exist. So distracted, she’d walked right into someone who definitely did.

“Hey!” Sour had winced, sighed, and said, “Sorry.”

“No harm done.”

And then Sour actually looked at the person she’d walked into.

She’d seen Ms. Vehementi around the school before. It was hard to forget a woman who looked like she dressed herself with a T-square and did her hair in a wind tunnel. But Sour didn’t recall her being overlaid with a swirling wraith almost the shame hue as Midnight Sparkle and a living fertility idol wearing three napkins and some string.

“Miss Sweet?” Thankfully, Ms. Vehementi’s voice wasn’t triplicated. “Are you alright?”

“Um. Yeah. Fine. Have a day or whatever.” And Sour had scrambled away, keeping an eye out for any other hallucinations.

None showed up. Even Sweeten had vanished.

More than one student had taken one look at the sex ed room, turned back around, and double-checked the room number. Cadence had spent a good part of Sunday removing the assorted posters that began with admonishing a dancing couple to “leave room for Harmony” and progressed from there. That did leave the room feeling bare, but that was what the Llamazon orders were for.

Cadence smiled at her first class of the day, some of whom still had the goggle-eyed expressions of those who weren’t sure if they were dreaming or not.

"Hello, everyone,” she began. “After hearing about some of Ms. Folio's lessons, I've asked her to step down as your sexual education teacher.” More disbelief spread through the class, along with a few hesitant smiles. “I'll be filling in for the time being. Now, given those lessons, I think we'd be best served by making today a Q&A session. If there's something you're not clear about I'd like you to ask me here and now."

The smiles evaporated like a puddle in the desert, blushes like heatstroke appearing in their wake. Despite the lack of decoration, every single student found something to look at that wasn’t Cadence.

She couldn’t help but smile herself. "I understand. It's embarrassing to discuss this sort of thing among your peers. It’s a taboo topic, and it’s hard to admit you're not an expert on intimacy in front of others. But no one expects you to be at your age.” Cadence shook her head. “No one expects you to be at my age. There is always more to learn about yourself and your partner. This is a safe place to discuss any questions you might have about sex, without judgement, guilt, or shame. I promise."

Silence gripped the classroom for another few moments. Finally, one girl raised a shaking tangerine hand.

"Yes, Frosty?"

Frosty Orange snapped her hand back down, pale blue locks whipping back and forth as she looked at the whole class looking at her. "Um…” She bit her lip. “What does make you go to Hell?"

Cadence smiled and shrugged. "As long as you and your partner or partners are all consenting adults, nothing at all."

Frosty blinked, her mouth working wordlessly for a moment. "Partners? Plural?"

"A possibility, if a very complicated one. Polyamory is as much about time management as emotional support, but that's an advanced topic we can revisit later. Any other questions?"

A forest of hands rose, and Cadence’s gentle smile widened in anticipation.

The Crystal Prep cafeteria had already outclassed most of the cheaper restaurants in Crystal City. Getting high-quality staff in the kitchens had been part of Principal Cinch’s perpetual cycle of using the school’s reputation to improve that reputation.

Thus, Sour Sweet idly shoving a fork across her barely cleared lunch tray said volumes about her disquiet. “So yeah,” she said, “that was my morning.”

Silence reigned over the lunch table for a few moments as the others digested her run-in with Ms. Vehementi.

"Wow,” Sunny said eventually. “And I thought I was having a weird day."

Sour’s head darted up, eyes wide. "You actually believe me?"

"I definitely believe you saw something bizarre with Ms. Vehementi,” said Sunny. “And if you saw the magic in those Canterlot girls before and after the rampage... Well, we can bear it in mind but I'm not sure what we can do about it."

“Pfft.” Lemon draped an arm over Sunny’s shoulders. "C'mon, we can totally be a bunch of mystery-solving meddling kids. We just need a Great Mane with a speech impediment.” She put a finger to her lips. “Do you think Twilight will let us borrow Spike?"

Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow. "Do you think you can actually face Twilight after the Friendship Games?"

Everyone winced at that, Sugarcoat included. Lemon in particular drooped and let her arm fall back into her lap. "Point. That coercive musical number about peer pressure makes things kinda awkward.” She hazarded a weak smile. “Maybe if I reach out to her on MyStable first.”

“That what now?” said Sunny.

“Don’t tell me I’m the only one who notices those.” Lemon looked around the table as the baffled silence stretched on. “Come on, did no one else hear the tune that kept fading in and out during the Academic Decathlon?”

Indigo turned to Sunny. "You said your day was weird?"

“We’re really not acknowledging this?”

"Going from Ms. Folio to Principal Cadence is kind of a shock,” Sunny said, not acknowledging that. “Especially when the subject is sex ed."

Indigo puffed out a breath, leaning back in her seat until gravity made her head loll back. "Man, lucky you. I had it second marking period. Nothing quite like the last class before winter break being a test where half the answers are 'sucking demon dong.'"

The rest of the table met that with knowing nods. "Think it's her fetish?" said Sour.

Lemon nodded. "It is absolutely her fetish."

Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow. "Am I the only one uncomfortable with thinking about Ms. Folio's fetishes?"

The whole table shuddered. Lemon shoved away what remained of her lunch. "Ugh. You put it like that, now I’m uncomfortable with it."

"So,” said Indigo, “how different is Principal Cadence?"

“Well…” Sunny crossed her arms and thought for a few moments. “Okay, you’ve all had one-on-one sessions with her, right?”

The others nodded. “She made a point of seeing everyone at least once a year,” said Sugarcoat.

“So you know what she’s like. Now try to imagine her even saying the word ‘condom.’”

That got four near-identical blank looks. Sour spoke up first. “That... might be worse than thinking about Ms. Folio’s fetishes.”

“Yeah. It’s certainly more useful than anything we’ve had thus far, but the disconnect is…” Sunny rubbed her temples. “I’ve never used the term ‘mind-boggling’ before, but it feels appropriate here.”

Lemon nodded. “My mind. She boggles.”

“And apparently she’s bringing in her fiancé for guy-specific questions next week. Did any of you know she's engaged to Twilight's brother?"

Indigo shrugged. "I didn't know Twilight had a brother."

"How many of us know anything about Twilight?" said Sugarcoat.

Lemon’s face twisted into a sour pucker. "Do you think we should visit her?"

Sugarcoat gave her the same skeptical look as before. "Again, do you think you could?"

Lemon fell silent, gaze dropping to her hands wringing in her lap.

After a few moments, Indigo cleared her throat. "So, uh, how about those new cookies?" She nodded at the hand-sized one still on her tray, studded with dark chocolate, dried strawberries, and other fruits no one was entirely sure about.

“It is a nice change. As are the new salads.” Sunny moved her fork through the chunks of beet, asparagus, and artichoke in her bowl. “I wonder what gave the chefs the idea."

"Gosh, something new and actually enjoyable at Crystal Prep?” Sour’s look of wide-eyed wonder drooped into a half-lidded stare. “Come on, we all know it was Principal Cadence."

Indigo frowned as she broke off a chunk of her cookie. "Wouldn't she have announced something like that?"

Sugarcoat shrugged. "Maybe she didn't think it merited an announcement."

"Or the chefs asked her not to,” said Sunny, “like Ms. Vehementi."

The table shook as Lemon slammed her palms on it. "I have a plan for Twilight," she declared. “Also, ow.”

The others traded uneasy glances. "Okay,” Sunny finally said, “putting aside the very abrupt subject change, why?"

"Do you really want to just let the guilt fester?” Lemon brought a hand to her gut. “'Cause I get the same queasy feeling you all do when thinking about seeing her again, and I'd like to get rid of it."

"I was just planning on letting it fade into a vague regret that would occasionally leave me up at night in my thirties," said Sugarcoat

"Wow,” Sour said, eyes wide, “you actually put it into words."

"Or we could actually deal with our emotions healthily."

Indigo smirked at Lemon. "Gee, I don't know. Seems like a pretty radical step."

Lemon nodded. "'Radical' is exactly how I would describe this. Also 'awesome' and possibly 'tubular.'"

"I'll listen if you stop talking like a surfer who got trapped in a time capsule for twenty years," said Sunny.

"Look, we're a long way off from being nearly as good at the whole 'healthy socialization' thing as the CHS horse girls, but that doesn't mean we can't get there.” Lemon beamed. “And how do you improve at anything?"

That was a question anyone at Crystal Prep could answer. "Practice," the others chorused.

"Exactly. So, before we face Twilight, we're gonna build those friendship muscles." Lemon went into the classic Rosy Riveter pose for emphasis.

She then held that pose for a good minute as the others hemmed and hawed.

Finally, Sour shrugged and said, "It’s less ridiculous than studying friendship."

"What did you have in mind?" said Sunny.

"Meet up at my dorm room on Friday night. We're gonna watch some movies."

Sunny smiled at the prospect. "I can bring a USB projector. And some classics."

Lemon shook her head. "The plan is to make fun of them Fantasy Science Theater-style, so don't bring anything you're too attached to."

"Oh. One classic?"

That got a shrug. "Eh, sure, pretty sure compromise is friendship-related."

"I'm just in it for mocking things," said Sour.

Sugarcoat nodded. "Same."

"It does actually sound fun.” Indigo gave a thumbs up. “I'll be there."

"Sweet." The lunch bell rang, making everyone jump a little and Lemon look up at the ceiling contemplatively. "Huh. Convenient. See you girls then."

"For the record,” added Sugarcoat, “our dorm is number two-six-nine."

"Right, knew I forgot something."

The rest of the week felt oddly fluid, days flying as classes crawled. The Friendship Games competitors could see how, by Friday, more and more groups were coming together not because of labyrinthine school politics, but because people enjoyed being around one another.

That or, as Sour Sweet posited, people were getting a lot better at faking sincere smiles.

Whatever the case, Friday night saw three guests make their way into Lemon Zest and Sugarcoat’s room. The dorms at Crystal Prep began the year symmetrical, each side of the room holding a bed opposite a desk, chair, and chest of drawers. The sheer quantity of band posters and dirty laundry told the visitors all they needed to know about who slept where in this one.

Lemon waved from where she sat with Sugarcoat on her bed. “Yo! Glad you came.”

Sour rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, had to clear out a packed social calendar. Still dressed for a night on the town and everything.” She tugged at the ratty T-shirt she wore over her calf-length pajama shorts.

“So, what are we doing exactly?” said Sunny Flare, who’d managed to outclass everyone else with a silk pajama set that nearly matched her skin tone. She waved a mini-projector in one hand. “And where do I put this?”

Lemon beamed, dressed in another one of her oversized concert tees. She reached out a hand. “Pass it over and I’ll take it from there. You guys can sit on the floor.”

“I sacrificed my comforter on the assumption that none of us have sleeping bags,” said Sugarcoat, wearing a bathrobe.

“Really pulled out the stops for us, huh?” Sour muttered.

“I don’t mind.” Indigo, who wore a spare gym uniform, lay down and stretched out over as much of the floor as she could.

Sugarcoat just shrugged. “It’s our room. Invite us to yours and you can dictate the seating arrangements.”

“You’ll wanna sit up anyway, Indy,” said Lemon. “Wanna be able to see over the mattress and all.”

Sunny crossed her arms once she sat. “See what?”

Lemon clicked her laptop’s trackpad. The projector lit up, filling the wall over Sugarcoat’s bed with a web browser open to a site everyone present recognized, and that most of them pretended not to. “Okay, so you know how we can look at porn on the school network?”

Indigo blushed like a tomato. Sunny and Sour both stammered out denials that were almost impossible to parse given all the false starts.

Sugarcoat just raised an eyebrow and said, “I have to be in the same room as you.”

“Rhetorical question for you, Sugar. And come on, girls. There are three kinds of people in the world: Masturbators, aces, and liars.” Lemon paused and scrunched her nose. “And, you know, little kids. Point is, I’ve heard enough locker room gossip to know everyone here’s interested in someone.”

“Fine,” Sour grumbled. “What’s your point?”

“My point is that PornDiscovery has some of the finest aged cheese your eyeballs could ever ask for, and we are going to make fun of it.”

Sunny scowled. “So instead of quality cinema, we’re going to watch bad porn?”

“We can switch to actual good movies later. But I say how better to celebrate our liberation from cybertyranny and tiptoe our way to actual healthy social interaction?”

“She has a sizable collection of Fantasy Science Theater 4000 DVDs, in case that wasn’t clear,” said Sugarcoat.

Lemon turned up her nose. “That is classic television and I will hear nothing different.” She swept a grin around the room. “So, whaddaya say?”

No one responded immediately. Just before the silence grew awkward, Sour let out a chuckle. “This is a terrible idea and we’d be terrible people for indulging in it. I’m in!”

After another moment’s thought, Indigo shrugged. “Eh, sure, one or two. It does sound fun.”

"I can understand mocking hilariously terrible films,” said Sunny, her arms crossed. “But there's schlock, and then there's filth."

"C'mon, just one. They're short; not like anyone expected someone to sit through a full-length feature while jerkin' their full length." Lemon clasped her hands and batted her lashes. “Please? For friendship?”

One of Sunny’s eyelids twitched before she sighed and sat down. “Fine, if only as an example of everything not to do in cinema. We are putting on Citizen Shine after this. So help me, if I am going to be friends with you people, you are getting something resembling culture.”

Lemon nodded. “Consider us warned. And now our feature presentation!”

It was, in many ways, the ur-porn. The fable that had inspired so many mockeries that it was almost surreal to see it performed sincerely.

A woman opened the door to her house despite wearing nothing but a sheer negligee. “Oh good,” she said throatily. “You’re here.”

A man clad in overalls and a staggering amount of body hair gave a rakish grin as he entered. “Need me to… lay some pipe?”

All five girls laughed at that, from Sunny hiding her snickers behind her hand to Lemon cackling until she fell back onto her mattress.

“Okay, Lemon was right,” said Indigo. “It really is so bad it’s good.”

Lemon pouted as she sat back up. “You say that like you’re surprised.”

“Some days I’m surprised you can walk and chew gum at the same time,” said Sugarcoat.

“That is needlessly accurate.”

“And just like that, they’re naked.” Sour Sweet’s observation got the other girls to look back at the video. Sure enough, both actors were nude, the woman on her knees before the man. The camera cut back and forth between her running her lips over his penis to her jiggling breasts to one hand pleasuring herself, all as heavy synth music boomed in the background.

Sunny shook her head. “And to think, people mock bad action movies for their choppy editing.”

“Now you see, young grasshopper,” Lemon intoned. “Porn walked so Bomb Bay could run.”

“Crawled seems more fitting.” Sugarcoat sneered as the woman gasped in apparent ecstasy. "And she's faking it."

"Of course she's faking it,” said Sunny, rolling her eyes. “She's paid to fake it."

Lemon tilted her head in thought. "You think he’s faking it?"

A few moments later, Sour Sweet snorted. "Oh yeah, sure, that's just corn starch coming out of a vinyl puppet."

"Probably easier to get out of her hair.” All eyes turned to Indigo Zap, who flushed red and tried to shrink in on herself. “N-not that I would know."

Lemon smirked, resting her head on a fist. “You sure about that?”

“Sounded like the voice of experience to me,” added Sunny.

Indigo’s eyes darted about the darkened room. She pointed back at the movie. “Hey look, they’re, uh… having more sex! Isn’t that more interesting?”

The video froze midthrust. A lamp clamped to Lemon’s footboard turned on moments later. “See, them I can pause,” said Lemon. She spun belly-down, feet kicking as she grinned down at Indigo, turning the lamp’s flexible neck to put the other girl in a spotlight. “You not so much. C’mon, give the deets. Spill the tea. Verb the noun.”

“It’s really not as exciting as you’re making it out to be.”

Sugarcoat crossed her arms. “We’ll be the judges of that.”

After a few moments, Indigo tilted her head back and groaned. “Fine. You know how the boys’ and girls’ locker room showers share a wall?”

Sour shuddered. “I do now.”

“Well, someone made a hole in it.”

“So, the X-rated tale of Pyramus and Thisbe?”

Four blank stares turned to Sunny.

She sighed, got up, and turned on the overhead lights. “Midsummer Night’s Dream? ‘And such a wall, as I would have you think/That had in it a crannied hole or chink’?” She thrust her arm out, fingers locked in a sideways peace sign. “Anyone?” After a few more moments of silence, she let her arm fall. “Fillystines.”

“I mean, I got the reference,” Lemon said as she turned off the desk light. “I just wasn’t expecting to go straight from glory holes to Spear Shaker.”

Sugarcoat nodded. “Same.”

“Spear Shaker was one of the greatest filthy minds of his generation,” Sunny huffed, plopping back down into her seat. “It’s just that no one gets the jokes anymore.”

“Girls?” Everyone turned to Sour. “Fascinating as this is, we’re forgetting that Indigo sucked someone off in the locker room.”

Indigo shook her head. “No, no, this is good. I’m all for talking about Shakerean fart jokes or whatever.”

“Come on, Indy. We’re already watching porn.” Lemon waved a hand towards the genitals still projected on one wall.

“Wouldn’t it be, you know, friendlier to let this drop?”

“Our friendliness is still a work in progress.” Sour gave a wistful sigh before switching to a wide grin. “And this is too juicy to drop.”

Indigo crossed her arms. “Okay, fine, sheesh.”

— — —

Indigo Zap wasn’t the most poetic student at Crystal Prep. That dubious honor went to Trenderhoof, who waxed so eloquent with every new crush that no one could tell what he actually said to them. But she could appreciate how the crack in the shower wall represented Crystal Prep’s problems: A crack in the flawless facade, often seen, rarely noticed, never mentioned. Indigo supposed that that made Principal Cadence spackle. Something pink and goopy that would fix the problem and hopefully harden with time.

Of course, that didn’t mean the actual crack was getting any better. It rose up from the floor to waist level, jagged and wavering like a slow-motion lightning bolt. Indigo couldn’t say what had drawn her attention to it, but as she rinsed off after track practice, she found she couldn’t look away.

Then it hit her: There was a bit of color against the crystal-blue tiles, but it wasn’t pink. And it definitely wasn’t spackle.

She turned to the girl next to her. “Uh, Lightning?”

“Yeah, loser?” Lightning Dust didn’t glance at her, more focused on rinsing off.

“One, we tied at the Friendship Games, and we would’ve won if Cinch hadn’t made Twilight go crazy. Two, you didn’t even qualify for the team. Three…” Indigo glanced back at the crack. She didn’t want to say it. Saying it would make it real. Like a lot of problems at Crystal Prep.

“Three?” said Lightning.

Indigo pointed at the one spot of tawny brown on the wall. “Is that a penis?”

— — —

The room went silent for a few moments. Lemon was the first to pick her jaw up off the floor. "I know we already covered this, but the absurdity’s only hitting me now that we’re gettin’ the full story. Someone stuck his dick through a hole in the wall."

"How thin is this wall?" said Sunny.

Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow. “How long is his penis?”

Indigo shrugged. "Couldn’t tell you either way. Either the wall’s thinner than I thought or someone's really packing."

"Rubbing against broken tile, drywall, maybe fiberglass.” Sour shuddered. “Yeah, that sounds real fun."

"I guess some guys are desperate enough to take a risk,” said Lemon. She smirked at Indigo. “'Specially if it worked."

The others turned to look at her too. She squirmed under their scrutiny before admitting, "Lightning Dust dared me to do it."

Sour shook her head. "You two don't have to use boys as proxies, you know. You can just hatefuck each other."

“So…” Lemon said, rocking back and forth with the sheer force of her faux-casual tone, “what was it like?”

“Okay, first off, it was a handjob. And I barely touched it before it went off. And some got in my hair and…” Indigo shook her head, almost shuddering. “Yeah, I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“Well, I’m sure whoever he was enjoyed it.” Sour smirked. “For all five seconds.”

“Hmm. Brown skin.” Sunny’s gaze drifted up as she thought. “You don’t think it was Trend—”

Indigo covered her mouth with a hand. “I am begging you to not finish that sentence. Also, he didn’t recite a sonnet afterwards, so probably not.”

“Well,” said Lemon, “we won’t figure that one out unless y’all wanna dust every guy in the school for prints. But we can see if we can find the appeal.” She unpaused the video. “Like so.”

“Shouldn’t we turn the lights back off?” said Sour.

“Eh, not affecting it that much.”

“Oh yeah,” moaned the actress. “Oh, you’re so good.”

Sugarcoat stuck out her tongue. “You really expect this acting to make anything look appealing?”

“The theory was sound. Besides, we’ve definitely had some friendly bonding over funky happenings.”

“Yeah,” grumbled Indigo. “The kind of friendly interrogation I expect out of the CIA.”

Sour patted her on the head. “Don’t be silly. This is domestic; we’d be FBI at worst.”

“Credits are rolling,” said Sunny.

The others looked. Sure enough, the projector was just showing a text crawl.

Sugarcoat adjusted her glasses. “When there’s synth music over everything, it’s hard to tell.”

Lemon grinned. “I feel vaguely called out.”

“I’ll be less subtle next time.”

“Heh. So, Sunny, what cinematic classic did you want to wash out the taste of…” Lemon hummed. “Yeah, don’t think there’s a good way to end that sentence.”

Sunny reached for the disc she’d brought with her, but paused before she took it in hand. "I mean…” Slowly, uncertainly, she drew her hand back. “Citizen Shine would be wasted on the likes of Lemon Zest."

"I do already know that it's the name of her sled."

"And this isn't wholly unpleasant, so we can continue.” Sunny looked about the room. “You know, unless anyone has any objections."

The others traded looks as well. “It was fun,” said Indigo. She glared at Lemon, though she still grinned. “And it’s not like I have any other shower confessions you can force out of me.”

Sugarcoat shrugged. “I’m interested in seeing how far Lemon can push this.”

Sour beamed. “This has honestly been one of the most enjoyable Friday nights I’ve had at Crystal Prep.” The others waited. She shook her head. “No, I’m being sincere. It really has.”

“Awesome!” Lemon cried, smiling in turn. She turned to her laptop and the browser bookmarks. “I did have another lined up. Just a sec.”

Indigo looked up at the ceiling. “We hitting the lights again?”

“Nah,” said Lemon. “I said I had another lined up. I didn’t say it was any better.”

It was, if anything, even more of an ur-porn, if only because it opened with five sorority girls having a giggle-filled pillow fight while collectively wearing about a square foot of fabric.

Sunny snorted at the display. “Don’t go getting any ideas, Lemon.”

“One-vee-one me, scrub,” Lemon said, deep as she could make her voice. “I have memory foam and I’m not afraid to use it.”

Sugarcoat patted said foam, which lay opposite Lemon. “Your pillow’s over here.”

“Betrayal!”

Indigo tilted her head. “Anyone else weirded out by how those are our exact skin tones?”

Lemon went from shaking her fist at the heavens to a carefree grin in an eyeblink. “Art imitating life.”

Sour waggled her fingers. “Ooooh, or it’s us in the fuuuuture.”

“In the distant future of the year 1982,” said Sugarcoat, a hint of a smile on her lips.

“And ‘exact’ is a strong word,” said Sunny. “She’s an almond; you’re more of a peach cream.”

The doorbell to the on-screen sorority rang, prompting the co-eds to scramble downstairs with as much bouncing as they could manage.

Sunny smirked. “Well, we’re already seeing more set variety.”

Sour nodded. “Two whole rooms. Really blew the budget on this one.”

One of the actresses opened the door, revealing an unshaven man with a pizza box and a half-open shirt doing nothing to hide a forest of chest hair. “You girls order an extra-large sausage?” he said, huskier than a wolfhound, one hand tugging down the waistband of his jeans.

The responses came fast and furious.

“Yup!”

“Oh no!”

“We can’t pay!”

“Not with money…”

The fifth just dragged the delivery guy inside by his lapels, directly into a Prench kiss.

“Won’t somebody think of the pizza?” Indigo cried as the box fell from nerveless fingers.

Sour sniffed back a tear. “It was so young.”

One of the girls popped into frame, with the pizza and without her bra. Indigo, Sour, and Lemon all cheered.

“More camera angles as well,” Sunny noted. “This is almost not total garbage.”

More clothing flew off bodies, either tossed or just disappearing between cuts as the delivery guy went from one girl to the next. As underwear littered the floor, the camera sometimes lingered on those sorority members who weren’t currently in his embrace, eating slices with one hand and teasing themselves with the other.

Some watched the fun offscreen. Some stared right into the camera, folding slices in half and licking the fluids out of the cleft.

“Uh, wash your hands, girls,” said Sunny, though her own hands drifted to her waist.

Sour licked her lips. “Anyone else want pizza?”

Indigo swallowed and squirmed. “I could definitely go for something.”

The actresses devoured the last of the pizza shortly thereafter, and then mobbed the delivery guy as if he was next on the menu. He rallied as best he could: One girl sat on his face, another rode his dick, and two made full use of his fingers. The last girl rubbed against everyone involved, taking advantage of whatever space and appendages were available. Occasionally, she’d switch places with one of the others, and the cycle would begin anew.

All the while, at least one sorority girl gave the camera a knowing, half-lidded smirk. Their wordless moans spoke of impossible pleasure and unending bliss.

Sunny swallowed against the building drool. “I, uh, I need to be excused real quick.” Despite saying that, she made no move to get up, though she was slowly grinding against the comforter.

“Same,” said Sour between pants. “I have… a thing. At the place.”

Indigo nodded, tugging at the collar of her gym shirt. “I should go with her. Roomies and all.”

“Don’t feel self-conscious, girls.”

All three turned away from the porn. The view didn’t change much. The only difference was the naked girl was in 3D and was using both hands to pleasure herself.

Sour knew she should have been disgusted. But as spots danced before her burning eyes, she couldn’t really muster up anything beyond vague surprise. “Lemon?”

"Oh, you’ve schlicked to worse." Lemon grinned and inserted the finger that had just been rubbing against her lower lips. “Relax. It’s a party.”

Indigo tried averting her eyes. That got her looking back at Phi Upsilon Kappa. "We're right here," she muttered, hands gripping the comforter until her knuckles turned white. “You’re right here.”

"And?"

They looked to the other end of the bed, whose occupant was similarly occupied. "Et tu, Sugarcoat?" said Sunny.

Sugarcoat shrugged, doing nothing to close her robe as she kept fondling herself. "Snark aside, this is hot in a voyeuristic way. Especially with Lemon joining in."

“Friendship!” Lemon cried as she inserted another finger into her snatch. “Woo!”

A few moments of liquid sounds and breathy panting passed, the three girls sitting on the floor blushing and trading uncertain looks. Finally, Indigo tugged her shirt over her head. "Screw it, this is hot."

Sour breathed a sigh of relief as she disrobed. "Wish that were me."

"Which one?" Indigo said, teasing a nipple with one hand as the other pulled off her shorts.

"The cameraman, obviously."

Sunny looked around the room, sighed, and pulled off her own shirt. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

"You're rooming with Moondancer, girl. Any time you need time with someone who doesn't have a stick up her ass, let us know." After a moment, Lemon added. "And, you know, if you're into that kinda thing—"

"I'm not.” Sunny couldn’t help but smile as she did what came naturally. “But I appreciate the gesture."

The on-screen orgy continued. Maybe it was the late hour or the building endorphins clouding the viewers’ minds, but the actresses seemed to look on them with approval. More men arrived without justification or clothing. Even as the camera tried to capture every kiss, every grope, every thrust, there was always at least one pair of eyes watching the watchers.

The Crystal Prep girls’ eyes glazed. As they watched, the actresses shifted, vague resemblance becoming near perfect matches, save for bodies that were appropriately like porn stars. The men became familiar classmates with exaggerated builds and even more exaggerated penises.

Each of the girls saw herself lean in close to the camera, wipe the jizz off her lips, and whisper “Now.”

Lemon and Sugarcoat slipped down to the floor. The others greeted them with kisses and far more. Life imitated art.

And the movie watched its own entertainment.

Author's Note

Frosty Orange is one of the Crystal Prep background humans. They're quite useful and criminally underutilized. The mystery guy in the showers is also a canon background human, but we'll get to him later.

And yes, the One-Winged Angel reference was absolutely necessary. Whole fic falls apart without it.

Bitch and Chill

Strictly speaking, Vision Cone didn't need to monitor the dorm at night. Not even Principal Cinch had asked her to. But Vision's mother had made clear the risks of boarding while sandwiched between two floors of boys, and someone had to watch out for her fellow students' virtue!

Besides, walking the halls meant Vision wasn't left to her own devices. Or her dreams. Which had taken a recent turn that Mother would definitely disapprove of.

Vision shivered as she shook the memories out of her head and pulled her free hand away from her pajama shorts. She could’ve sworn her camisole hadn’t been thin enough to give her a chill when she’d put it on. To say nothing of how the fabric brushed against her—

The creak of a door dragged her mind away from the state of her body, adrenaline chasing out her growing fatigue and other sensations. Vision dashed to the sound, relying more on her knowledge of the floor plan than her eyes. The hall lights had gone off hours ago, and she tried to limit her flashlight use to keep any boys from knowing she was there. Still, she needed to see the details of this incident, so on it went.

A moment later, Vision dropped the flashlight in shock.

The beam danced about the hall, bringing three colors of bare skin in and out of sight, reflecting off of dull eyes and highlighting lazy smiles. They didn’t seem to mind the sudden light. If anything, it just made their smiles wider.

Vision could’ve sworn the three were barely trudging forward, but the next thing she knew, there were lips pressed against hers and hands roaming about her body. She stiffened as one squeezed her buttocks. She ought to object, to pull away, to scream to anyone who might hear…

But then they might see. And thinking beyond the humiliation, who knew what these girls might do to other onlookers?

A breathy voice whispered into her ear, the breeze enough to make her quiver. Or maybe that was someone pulling down her shorts. “Hey. You’re up late. Want to have some fun?”

Vision tried to think of what Mother might say to such a proposition. Then a tongue slipped into her mouth and she found it very difficult to think of anything at all.

The next thing she knew, her new friends were leading her to a dorm room and showing her things she’d never known, and the world seemed to have a gauzy filter over it, as if someone had thrown a sheer camisole over a flashlight.

Lemon Zest awoke to the smell of sweat and the sight of two perky, apple-sized blue tits. Her eyes darted up to see that Sugarcoat was awake, browsing on her phone, and like Lemon herself, was very much still naked.

Even if Lemon had cared about propriety, she was pretty sure this situation wasn’t found in most etiquette guides. "Um..."

"You don't snore when someone else is in your bed," said Sugarcoat, not looking away from the device. Though the arm around Lemon's shoulders was sending some mixed signals. "That or you were just completely exhausted from last night, but the Internet assures me that snoring doesn't work that way."

Lemon ducked under the arm and shifted to the other side of the mattress. She needed to think, and that wasn't easy with an admittedly great rack two inches away. "So last night actually happened?"

That got Sugarcoat to glance at her, one eyebrow raised. "Can you think of any other reason why we'd share a bed?"

Lemon rubbed the back of her head. She knew she was putting everything on display, but after last night, modesty felt like a moot point. "Well, I mean, I know you're not looking for a relationship, but we're obviously comfortable with each other. Already got that whole ‘watch each other’ setup. Wanna blow off steam together more directly?"

"Hmm." Sugarcoat put down her phone. "An empty, purely physical relationship?"

"Hey, I like to think we're friends." Lemon shrugged. "Just, you know, with benefits."

That got a small grin out of Sugarcoat. "I never said a purely physical relationship was a bad thing, but you raise a good point." She leaned over and began to knead one of Lemon's breasts.

It took a few moments for Lemon to get herself to pull away. "Not that this isn't nice, but I didn't mean now."

"It's Saturday morning. What else were you going to do?"

"I got plans this afternoon."

Sugarcoat glanced at Lemon’s clock radio. "It's not even nine."

"Oh.” Lemon grinned and leaned in for a kiss. “Okay then."

She’d been half-joking. Sugarcoat clearly wasn’t, going by how she grabbed Lemon by the back of the head and practically slammed their lips together. She kissed the way she spoke, no nonsense, no frills, and no expectation of or appreciation for either. This wasn’t a delicate, loving peck. It was the glove slap before a tongue duel. And Lemon found that the duel had begun while she was still processing the opening move.

Lemon fell back onto her sheets, still not sure if she was actually enjoying this or not. Sugarcoat bringing a hand to one of her boobs helped. Once her motor was running, Sugar’s breastplay was almost as rough as her kissing, but Lemon appreciated a good nipple tweak a lot more than the continued effort to swallow her tongue. Orally, it was all she could do to hold on, but she was happy to return the favor on Sugarcoat’s chest.

Finally, Sugarcoat pulled away for a breath. Lemon offered the best grin she could under the circumstances. “Really wanted to shut me up, huh?”

“If you’re looking for gentle lovemaking, you’ve got the wrong girl.” Sugarcoat trailed a fingernail down Lemon’s side for emphasis.

Lemon hissed as the sensation left tingles on her skin. “That’s cool. I’m cool with that. Just went from zero to sixty real quick there.”

Sugarcoat raised an eyebrow. “If you think that’s sixty, we’re going to have problems down the line.” Her fingers kept going lower, soon settling into a circular pattern on Lemon’s inner thigh.

“You’re seriously gonna tease me after that?” said Lemon, trying her hardest not to pant like one of the actresses in last night’s little film festival.

The eyebrow only went higher. “I may be rough, but I know better than to ram fingers in while you’re bone dry.” Sugar’s fingers moved those last few inches, and her other eyebrow joined its partner. “Oh.”

Lemon found herself giving a sheepish grin. “Anyone who isn’t a little damp downstairs after that is either straighter than a ruler or dead.”

“Don’t say ‘damp.’ It’s almost as bad as ‘moist.’”

Lemon didn’t exactly have a long list of things people had said to her just before they started to finger her, but that was easily the worst entry.

Her mind scrambled for something else to think about so the endorphins could kick in properly. “So,” she said as her own hand made its way along Sugarcoat’s hips, “think the others are doing something like this?”

Sugar’s fingers slowed for a moment as she thought. “The idea seems highly improbable.” Their speed redoubled as she gave a wicked grin. “But also very hot.”

Sunny Flare suspected someone had felt very proud of themselves when they'd put her in the same room as a girl named Moondancer. Thankfully, despite the wordplay, neither was much of a morning person and both respected the sanctity of the weekend.

Whoever was shrieking in her ear was not so considerate.

After the shriek, Sunny processed several things in quick succession: She wasn’t in her own bed, she was naked, and the screamer was another girl, which made the previous data a lot less concerning.

After a bit of stretching on Sunny’s part, the gray girl paused for breath. “You done?” Sunny said while she had the chance.

“Bu- but I- This isn’t- I don’t—”

Sunny rolled her eyes as she got out of bed. Indigo Zap and Sour Sweet were both watching from the other bed, amused smirks on their faces and ill-fitting pajamas on their bodies. Going by the posters of fighter jets, the pile of laundry, and the stuffed animal holding a switchblade, this was their dorm. She was aware of her own nudity, but that was low enough on the list of issues that she could put it out of mind for now. “You two want to help?”

“Aww,” Sour cooed, “but you were so sweet sleeping next to each other!” The wicked grin came back with a vengeance, though it might have worked better if she weren’t spilling out of her top. “And at least I got to see one of you panic.”

“I can never get married!” cried the other girl, holding the comforter over her own bare body.

Indigo blinked at her. “Wow, what century did she come from?”

Sunny rubbed her head, not only because of the yelling right next to it. “Everything after that second ‘film’ is a blur. I’d think Lemon spiked the drinks, but we weren’t drinking anything.”

“Well, Indigo and I both woke up sore, sticky, cuddling, and not wearing anything.” Sour snorted. “Clearly we all had a lollipop humping contest.”

Sunny rolled her eyes and turned to the other girl, who now seemed on the verge of hyperventilation. “Look, what’s your name?”

That got her a deer-in-headlights look through two-tone teal bangs. “V-Vision Cone.”

Sunny clapped her on the shoulder. “Well, Vision, good news. This isn’t a Mane Austere novel and you don’t need to worry about securing a dowry for your ailing father. Congratulations on discovering your bi- or pansexuality. What room are you in?”

The poor girl boggled like she’d been told the sky wasn’t actually blue. “T-two sixteen?”

“Perfect; I’m across the hall from you.” Sunny began browsing the room for signs of terrycloth. “We’ll borrow some towels and run for it before more people wake up. Throw in some giggling and they may not know it’s a walk of shame.”

“Assuming we’ll let you borrow towels.”

Indigo nudged her roommate. “Not the time, Sour.”

Sour pouted and pointed at Vision. “But she’s so fun when she squirms!” After a blink, she added, “Oh. Think I remembered something from last night.”

Vision blushed so hard she almost turned brown before completely burying her head in the bedclothes. Sunny didn’t have the heart to tell her that left her rear end sticking out for all to see.

Indigo stood, highlighting her growth-spurt midriff, and pulled two towels out of the pile on her floor. “Here.”

Sunny wrapped one around herself and draped the other over Vision’s bare bottom. “Come on. To paraphrase Spear Shaker, let’s exit like we’re being pursued by a bear.”

Eventually, Lemon managed to escape the Sugary honey trap and prep for her day out.

“How’s this?”

“You have a plumber’s crack while standing up straight.”

In theory.

“This?”

“Your nipples stand out so much, people may claim they’re trying to read Braille.”

In practice, that meant running through a casual wardrobe that she’d outgrown without noticing, all while a still nude Sugarcoat offered advice that straddled the line between aggravating and enticing.

Lemon wasn’t sure when or how it had happened, but her own lemons had ripened to oranges and her hips had followed suit. She paced about in nothing but a pair of especially elastic panties. They were the only thing she’d found that fit, and they still left her in a state of almost painted-on cameltoe. “Ugh, I haven’t exploded like this since middle school. Are they slipping hormones in the lunches or what?”

“Hmm…” Sugarcoat looked off into the distance, a finger idly rubbing against her lower lips as she imagined something. Probably their whole class supersizing the same way Lemon had. And, come to think of it, the way Sugar had as well; Lemon could see a good bit more on her roommate now that she was looking for it.

All those people, barely even able to wear clothes, wandering the halls of Crystal Prep. Why, who knew what would—

Lemon shook the image out of her head and all but peeled her hand off of her own breast. “Don’t have time for this right now.” She turned back to her assembled wardrobe. Process of elimination had left her with only one option.

Once it was on, Sugarcoat was still lost in fantasy, so Lemon gave herself a once-over in a makeup mirror she’d used maybe a dozen times before. “Hard to tell with this thing, but I… think it’ll work?” She leaned back and stretched out her arm, trying to get a mirror meant for her face to show all of her. “Am I showing underboob again? Not a good look.”

A sigh and the sound of a camera shutter got Lemon to put down the mirror. “Oh. Right. Technology also works.”

She considered the picture now displayed on Sugarcoat’s phone. There was no underboob to be had, but it was a near miss. She was still rocking much more midriff than she’d have preferred. The tank top nearly matching her skin tone didn’t help matters there. Plus, the bright yellow skirt only reached down to mid-thigh.

“I’m gonna have to be careful bending over,” Lemon concluded.

Sugarcoat nodded. “The co-eds in last night’s porn were wearing more.”

“Will it get me arrested?”

“Not immediately.”

Lemon sighed. “It’ll have to do. Good thing I was already planning on the mall today.”

The bus ride to Canterlot Mall wasn’t as awkward as she’d feared. Sure, she got some looks, but they were definitely more appreciative than judgemental. The knot in Lemon’s stomach had completely uncoiled by the time she walked into the mall. By that point, her only concern was finding the bobbing head of electric blue hair.

"Vinyl!"

It was easy to tell that Vinyl Scratch had found her. Lemon just had to watch for the double take. Watching her try to pull her jaw off the ground was icing on the cake. “The hell are they feeding you guys?”

Lemon couldn’t help but grin. “You know, I asked that myself earlier. Part of why I’m out here. Need something that I won’t burst out of.” The grin widened. “Though I haven’t heard any complaints yet.”

Vinyl gave a smirk of her own. “Yeah, no doubt.” As they moved through the mall, her head bobbed like an off-kilter metronome, slowly dragging down and to the side before she caught herself and snapped back up, only for the process to repeat. She wasn’t the only one, but she was Lemon’s only opportunity to watch the cycle multiple times. “Didn’t even bother with a bra?”

“Not unless I want to slice my shoulders open.” Lemon rubbed one, recalling the trials and copious errors of that morning. She rubbed her chin as inspiration struck. “You know about the crazy horse magic, right?”

That got a shrug and another attempt to look Lemon in the eyes. “As much as anyone who doesn’t have any. You pick up a few things from being the Rainbooms’ main roadie, but I’m not earning my wizard staff any time soon. Pretty much told you everything I know at the Games. Why?”

“I may have been freaking out during the whole ‘collapsing reality’ thing, but Twilight looked like she’d gone up a cup size after going mad with power. Does that stuff, you know, enhance your attributes?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Although…” Vinyl trailed off again, though this time she did so while facing away from Lemon’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“We could ask her.” Vinyl moved to the glass partitions blocking off their floor of the mall and pointed into the open space below them.

Lemon followed along to the food court, and to an all-too-familiar figure assaulting a burger. “Oh.” The knot in her gut rewound itself. “Um…”

“Bad blood still?”

“No, just awkward lymph.” Lemon bit her lip. “And maybe some anxious cerebrospinal fluid.”

Vinyl’s eyebrows rose over her shades. “You really do come up with this stuff on the fly. I thought you just did it on Disqorse.”

“Yeah. It’d be real great if it helped me figure out what to say to the girl who I peer-pressured into demonhood.”

A hand around Lemon’s wrist broke her out of her thinking in desperate circles. “Alright, come on,” Vinyl said as she dragged her to a nearby escalator.

Lemon tugged back half-heartedly. “Hey, what gives?”

“We’re going over there,” said Vinyl. “I’m not gonna say anything. You will clear the air with Twilight and get this out of the way.”

“I have a counterproposal: We can do literally anything else.” Lemon smirked and leaned down, a tricky feat given the continued dragging. “Anything.”

Vinyl didn’t even glance back. “Friendship problem now, then get back to me after I see if Tavi’s up for a threesome.”

“Hey, this is a friendship problem! Uniting the schools, overcoming the rivalry, all that good stuff.” Lemon made sure there weren’t any children among her onlookers before adding “Just, you know, through the symbolic act of boinking.”

“I’ll get back to you on that after you talk to Twilight. Like I said, Lemon, I’m their roadie. You’re gonna run into her fairly often if we’re gonna keep hanging out.”

Lemon threw her head back and groaned. “Curse you, with your valid arguments and making logical sense. I get enough of that from—” The rest of the sentence died in her mouth as their quarry looked up from her slaughtered, all-beef prey to see the two of them standing in front of her table. “Twilight! Hey! Nice to see you!”

“Oh. Um.” Twilight cleared her throat and dabbed at her ketchup-smeared face with a napkin. Though that didn’t remove all the red from her face as she looked over Lemon. “Hi, Lemon Zest.”

Sunset Shimmer, Twilight’s sole dining partner, looked up from her salad and raised an eyebrow. “Old friend of yours?”

“Not exactly,” said Twilight, who was now intent on fidgeting with her straw.

Guilt stabbed at Lemon and made her yelp out something to chase away the growing silence. “Close as anyone came at Crystal Prep, but that’s not saying much. And it’s our fault, not Twi’s.”

Twilight shook her head. “I wasn’t exactly open to friendship at the time.”

Lemon snorted at that. “Who was? Principal Cadence is doing her best to change that, and I’m right there with her. Had a sleepover with some of the girls on my floor last night, Sugarcoat included.”

“Oh. That sounds… nice?” Twilight shrugged. “I’ve never had a sleepover. Do you normally dress like that the day after?”

Vinyl snorted and doubled over at that, managing to all but roll on the floor laughing in total silence.

Lemon resisted the urge to kick her. Friends didn’t kick friends, or so she assumed. “Please ignore the mime I found on the way in. She imprinted on me after the rest of her colony abandoned her egg.”

To her credit, Twilight actually had a response to that sort of thing for once. “You know, I think you would get along really well with Pinkie Pie.”

Sunset cleared her throat. “We’ve actually got Twilight’s first sleepover planned for tonight.” She looked over Lemon from top to bottom with an expression not far from the one she wore as a golden unicorn laser angel. “So, what brings you to the Canterlot Mall? And this specific table?”

“Well, I wanted to hang with one of the cooler girls I met during the Friendship Games.” Lemon jerked a thumb at Vinyl, who had recovered enough to wave. “Sorry about her monopolizing the conversation.”

Vinyl stuck out her tongue, but didn’t otherwise contribute.

“She’s also making me get this awkward conversation out of the way so that one day, we can become genuine friends ourselves.” Lemon turned back to Twilight. “And… I would like that. Really.”

“Oh. I see.” Twilight’s gaze had fallen to the floor by that point. Somehow, the lingering bits of condiments around her mouth only made her seem even more pathetic.

Lemon rubbed a forearm. A nudge from Vinyl unstuck her tongue. “Look. I’ve said this to a lot of people, but never to the one who needed to hear it the most. We all may have been under Cinch’s bitchy thumb, but we’re all still responsible for how we treated you while you were at Crystal Prep.” After a sigh, she added, “And in hindsight, blasting your eardrums with Skullcruncher? Not the best way to make you feel comfortable around me.”

Twilight glanced up at her—well, part of her—and offered something like a smile. “I… do appreciate your attempts to share your interests with me. Though we have very different musical tastes.”

“And that was before I came down on you with the rest of the team and pressured you into becoming a terrifyingly sexy—” Another jab from Vinyl’s elbow shoved Lemon’s train of thought onto a different track. “—into becoming that thing. So, for everything I did to you, I’m sorry. And I hope we can start over.” Lemon held out her hand.

After a few eternity-spanning seconds, Twilight took it her own and shook. The smile grew to something worthy of the name as she met Lemon’s eyes. “I’d like that. Thank you, Lemon. Apology accepted.”

Lemon sagged with relief, letting out a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. “Okay, good. That is honestly a huge load off my mind. Kind of been using you as an example of how we need to change our collective tune with some of the harder heads at Crystal Prep. Not making things right with you was one of the bigger hypocrisies hanging over my head.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But, uh, if you’re through, I’m kind of busy right now?” Twilight tilted her head towards the other chair at the table.”

Sunset waved and gave a Sour Sweet grin, the kind that wasn’t friendly so much as an excuse to bare her teeth. “Yeah, still here.” The plastic fork in her white-knuckle grip gave a worrying creak.

“Oh. Alright, Twilight.” Lemon gave her a thumbs-up before turning to Sunset. “No joke, like, a quarter of Crystal Prep is jealous of you.”

There was definitely a story behind the conflicted look that produced. “I shouldn’t take pride in that,” said Sunset.

“Totes do.”

“Uuuuuh…” Twilight had paled to a faded lilac tone, looking back and forth between them. A blush spread across her face even as Lemon watched.

“Well, this is a fine mess I’ve made,” said Lemon, fingers running along imaginary suspenders. The fact that it gave her an excuse to stick out her chest was merely a side benefit. “Drop me some contacts on MyStable, Twi; we gotta keep this up. Right now, you crazy kids have fun. Don’t do anything I would.” And with that, she turned and used what remained of her force of will to only walk away and not dash at full speed.

At least, that was the plan. Vinyl grabbing her wrist and shaking her head said otherwise.

“Come oooon,” Lemon definitely didn’t whine. “I know my choices have consequences, but that doesn’t mean I have to face them.”

Sunset smirked. “Oh. Trust me. It does.”

Vinyl cleared her throat, pointed at Sunset, and held her hand up against her forehead, index finger extended.

Lemon blinked. “Oh. Right. Good point.” She sat, looked from one girl to the other, and said, “Okay, so I may have a magic problem…”

The years seemed to peel away. Twilight lay in her bed, hugging Cumber, her plush map of the universe’s background radiation, while Cadence sat next to her. For a moment, she legitimately wasn’t sure if she were eighteen or eight. “Thanks again for this.”

Cadence smiled and ran a comb through her hair. “I’m happy to keep doing this for as long as you feel you need it, Twilight. What are sisters-in-law for?”

“Heh.” Twilight smiled and squeezed Cumber harder. “Still can’t believe you fell for a doofus like Shining.”

That got her a light nudge. "Hey now, in a few months, he’ll be my doofus. So, how's it been at CHS?"

"It's been... odd.” The room seemed to fall away as Twilight looked over her memories. “No more world-shaking news from my counterpart, though apparently you’re pregnant?”

“I am?” Cadence brought a hand to her decidedly flat belly.

“Well, you know, alien princess horse you. Because that universe never stopped being full of magic ponies.” Twilight shrugged. That she could after saying that spoke volumes in and of itself. “My counterpart’s already graduated from the most prestigious school in the country, among other things. Seems safe to assume they’re ahead of us by a few years.”

“Ah,” said Cadence. It was a familiar, disappointing “Ah,” the one she used when she didn’t fully understand something but didn’t want Twilight to explain it for the next few hours. “Well, no spoilers, thank you. I’d love to meet this other Cadence some day, but right now it sounds like we’ll both have a lot of challenges coming up soon.” She smiled as she put down the brush. “How’s this Twilight doing in school?”

“I’m learning a lot. Not academically, obviously, but socially? Sunset and her friends have already taught me so much, so many unwritten rules I'd forgotten or never knew in the first place."

Cadence frowned. "You still don't see them as your friends?"

"Not because of anything they’ve done. They’ve been great.” Pinkie Pie came to mind in all her surreal glory, and Twilight could’ve sworn the memory waved at her when the actual girl hadn’t. “Baffling at times, but great. It’s just... I still have trouble thinking of myself as the kind of person who has friends. Who people would want as a friend."

“Hey, they’ve had a week,” Cadence said with a grin. “Still as friendly as when you met them?”

Twilight had to nod. “Even more. Especially Sunset since, you know, I’m not threatening her friends by tampering with forces beyond my understanding.” She tried to cap that with a smile of her own. The cheek strain alone told her it didn’t turn out well.

A hand on her shoulder got her to relax. “How about the rest of the school? Still mistaking you for the other Twilight?”

“No, you were right about it clearing up. Some of the clubs are actually reaching out to me, at least for next year.” Twilight smiled much more easily. “They actually have an impressive robotics group. This one boy, Microchips—”

“Oh? Already moved on from Sunset Shimmer, have we?”

Twilight pulled away as best she could while already tucked in. “Cadence!”

Cadence covered her laughter with a hand. “I’m teasing, Twilight. Honestly, I’m ecstatic to hear how you’re settling in at CHS. I can only hope Crystal Prep even comes close to what you’re experiencing now.”

“You’re on the right track, based on what I’ve heard.”

“Oh? Tapping into the grapevine yourself?”

Twilight shook her head. "Not exactly. It kind of came to me. And by ‘it,’ I mean ‘Lemon Zest.’ She was very enthusiastic about your changes to Crystal Prep thus far."

"That's wonderful to hear!” Cadence said, beaming. “Where'd you meet up?"

"The Canterlot Mall. She was with one of her CHS friends, Vinyl Scratch.” Twilight felt her face heat up as details she’d missed in her shock came to the fore now. “And, uh, speaking frankly, was also in dire need of a new wardrobe. Unusually late growth spurt, apparently. We’re ninety-nine percent sure it doesn’t have anything to do with magical radiation exposure, since Canterlot isn’t seeing anything similar.”

“It may be more a matter of the uniforms. We’ve been getting more than a few complaints there.” Cadence shook her head. “But you don’t need to hear about the minutiae at your old school. What were you doing at a mall? I’d almost think you were a teenager or something.”

“Heh. Well, aside from watching the slow death of physical commerce, I was…" Twilight trailed off. Her faded blush reignited.

Judging by Cadence’s growing grin, she’d noticed. "Yes?"

"Okay, I was with Sunset.” Twilight waved her hands as though to wipe away any implications. “But don't read too much into that! We just hung out at the mall. Had lunch together. Not together together. Normal, entirely Braytonic together. I think. Maybe. I guess?"

Cadence leaned back, crossed her arms, and just waited.

"Okay, so maybe it was something more. But I'm still working out the basic fundamentals of simple friendly interaction! I don't know how to be in a romantic relationship! I didn't even realize I was attracted to girls until I met Sunset Shimmer! I didn’t realize yesterday could be construed as a date until Lemon said Crystal Prep would be jealous of her!” Twilight felt an eye twitch. “And I’m only unpacking the implications there right now.”

“Breathe, Twilight. This is a good thing.”

That got the incredulous look that such a mad statement deserved. “I ate a cheeseburger in front of someone I’m attracted to! How is this possibly a good thing!?”

Cadence just smirked. “Well, for one, maybe you’ll start coming up for air more often.”

Twilight squeezed Cumber hard enough to initiate a Big Crunch. “She thought it was cute.”

“That works too. It’s like I’ve been telling you for years, Twilight, you’re a very pretty young woman.”

“Cadence, this isn’t a self-image issue. I almost had a panic attack when we held hands! What happens if we kiss?"

"We could practice."

Twilight’s head snapped up. "Cadence!?"

For a moment, she thought Cadence looked just as shocked. Then the other woman winked and said, "Kidding. And trying to shock you out of that mental tailspin."

"You definitely succeeded there."

"Look, part of any healthy relationship is going at a pace you're both comfortable with.” Cadence’s grin grew as she said, “I won't lie, I'm shipping you two like Cupid paid for next-day delivery, but I don't want you to feel pressured to go further or faster than you want to. There's no timetable or schedule for romance."

Twilight groaned and fell back until her head hit her pillow. "I wish there were! At least then there'd be some structure to it."

"I... suppose I could give you an assignment, if you really think it would help."

That got a nod. "It absolutely would."

"Alright.” Cadence stood, putting her back in Twilight’s field of view. With a look of teacherly focus, she said, “This week, I want you to tell Sunset how you feel about her. If she reciprocates and you feel comfortable with it, feel free to go further. But if nothing else, you should get your feelings out in the open."

"Okay.” That had come out automatically, but then Twilight thought about it for a moment and nodded. “Okay. I can do that."

Cadence nodded back, though she seemed to be waiting for some—

A horrible thought came to mind. "What if she doesn't feel that way about me?"

"Then she doesn't feel that way about you,” Cadence said with a shrug. “You've still learned something about yourself and the two of you can still be friends."

"Won't it be awkward?"

"For a while. But that will pass. I can’t say I know a lot about relationships that begin with one person cleansing the other of dark magic, but I think your bond can survive a little awkwardness.” Cadence offered a soft smile. “And it's just as likely that she does feel that way about you."

Twilight couldn’t let that stand. "That isn't how probability works. Still, thanks. Really."

"No problem.” Cadence paused on her way out of the room and looked over her shoulder. “And hey, if you really want some kissing practice..."

Twilight stuck out her tongue. "That wasn't any funnier the second time."

Cadence slid into her own bed, arms wrapping around her own cuddle-buddy. He followed suit. “How’s Twily?” Shining asked.

“Healing. Her new friends are helping there, and at least one old one as well. How about you, Shiny? Ready for Monday?"

He nodded. "More than ready. I talked this over with Captain Hardline, and I think we've reached a workable compromise for this whole business."

Cadence reluctantly let go and sat up. It wasn’t easy to have a serious conversation with her fiancé’s chest. "What do you mean?"

"The Friendship Games weren't the first supernatural incident at CHS.” Shining tilted the notebook he’d been going through so Cadence could see some of the notes and news clippings within. “Your aunts have tried to cover up the previous cases, but I have my sources."

She smirked. He was so cute when he tried to act like a badass. "Twilight?"

Shining’s eyes darted to the notebook. He flipped to a page that didn’t have his sister’s handwriting on it and cleared his throat. "Not just Twilight. The point is, the Canterlot PD's been taking a hands-off approach until now. No one's happy about implicitly promoting vigilante justice, but it's not like that precinct is equipped to handle what those girls have faced."

Cadence nodded. "Who is? It’s not like they make magic-proof vests."

"Yeah. That’s why I proposed a preventative measure. Something that should keep situations from escalating to where a bunch of teenagers with attitude need to bail us out."

Cadence stifled a laugh at the image that brought to mind. "Pretty sure they're not posing in Spandex."

"Well, I'm not waiting until they are.” Shining flipped to a bullet-pointed syllabus. “My idea is a course to inform kids about supernatural dangers and how to avoid them. That Sunset Shimmer girl's been a big help in terms of what not to do."

"Glad you approve of her."

Cadence could almost hear the squeal as Shining’s train of thought tried to change tracks midway through strategizing. "Why's that?"

She offered an innocent smile. "I'm happy to see you get along with any of Twilight's new friends. So, a modified course... 'Magic Abuse and Resistance Education'?"

Shining nodded. "Officially, I'll be working with you to teach the prototype M.A.R.E. course.” He gave her an adorkable wink. “And if we happen to liaise on any other subjects, that's just an efficient use of our time."

"Shiny, you're brilliant.” Cadence gave him a half-lidded look and snatched the notebook out of his unresisting hand. “And on that note, Officer Armor, I think we should liaise on a particular subject right now."

Shining returned her expression. "Principal Amore, I would love nothing more."

Cadence had a lot of experience with kissing Shining Armor, going back to the days when they were students at Crystal Prep. They’d learned a lot from each other—certainly more than her brief time with that ass Buck Withers—but tonight, the show of love that usually left her so fulfilled seemed… insufficient.

So she went looking for more. At least until Shining pulled back, gasping for breath. “Easy, Cady! I’ll still be here in the morning!”

“I know.” She ran a hand over his chest. “I just… want a little more right now.”

Shining, bless him, gave her a blank look for a moment as he thought about that. But only for a moment before he grinned and said, “Sounds good to me.”

Still, it was Shining, and Cadence had learned a lot from him. “And to be clear, I’m talking about sex.”

He just reached down with one arm, and Cadence felt his length spring out and brush against her thigh. “I know I’m not the best at picking up signals, Cady, but even I got that much.”

She winked. “Just making sure.” And neither of them said much after that.

Sour Sweet had found that holding two contradictory ideas in her head was essential for success at Crystal Prep. She was at once a member of the elite few and a worthless waste of gray matter who had to buckle down if she wanted to get anywhere. Crystal Prep was the best place to be and, until recently, a nigh-literal hellhole of academic and social pressure. Canterlot High was both the hated competition who demanded her complete focus in destroying and a laughingstock. (No one said either idea had to be true.)

As such, it was easy to convince herself she was both spying on Dean Vehementi and taking a moment in the hall to sort out her backpack where she just happened to be next to an open door.

“We need to do something,” Sour’s math teacher hissed in what might have been a whisper if she weren’t so good at barking out orders that carried across the classroom.

“I understand your concern, Ms. Fussbudget, but the principal is very busy right now.” Sour couldn’t help but smirk at that. If Dean Vehementi laid on the subtext any more thickly, it’d be oozing out of the room.

“Yes, mostly with work she’s made for herself,” scoffed Ms. Fussbudget. More gently, she added, “And I understand her desire to lessen the pressure on the kids. I heard what happened at the Friendship Games. No one wants a student having a nervous breakdown, much less that.” The iron came back into her voice. “But there is such a thing as being too lax. I know it’s getting late in the year, but I swear every day is more of a struggle to get students to pay attention to something other than each other!”

Sour bit her tongue. It was hardly her fault that pre-finals review was the most boring part of the year.

“With all due respect,” Dean Vehementi said in a tone that had anything but, “I’m not sure what you expect Principal Amore to do about discipline issues in your classroom.”

“It’s not just my class. Go to the faculty lounge, ask anyone you find there. We’re all seeing student attention drop off like never before. Reminding them that finals are getting closer is barely enough to get them to look at me these days. I’d tell Cadence herself, but I can’t find her for love or money.”

Footsteps approached, and Sour raced to get her backpack in a state of plausible deniability. “I assure you, Ms. Fussbudget, I keep the principal appraised of every pressing issue at Crystal Prep.”

The math teacher pursued her, all but stomping along the way. “I’ll believe that when I see her do something about it.”

“A moment.” Dean Vehementi stuck her head out into the hallway. Sour had an increasingly familiar moment of confusion as three different heads resolved themselves into a single disapproving glare. The dean hadn’t even needed to look around for her. “You’ll be late for your next class at this rate, Miss Sweet. Do get going.”

Sour swallowed against the lump in her throat and picked up her bag. “Um, right. I’ll just...”

She waited for the dean to go back in the classroom. Ms. Vehementi waited as well. After another few seconds, Sour sighed and left.

It was a clear day outside. The ominous thunder was definitely in her head.

Some of Cadence’s orders had come in over the weekend, so the sex ed room wasn’t quite as barren. Some anatomy posters both male and female, an excellent one on the truth behind common rumors about sex, and another on contraceptives. Ideally one of the students might actually glance at one.

For now, they were all focused at the front of the class. A few had their mouths hanging open. If nothing else, Cadence could appreciate their good taste.

"Good morning, class,” she began. “As I said last week, we have a special guest today, someone who I hope we'll be seeing fairly often.” She gestured to said guest. “I'd like to introduce my fiancé, Shining Armor."

"Hello, Mr. Armor," some of the class said dutifully. Others nodded. One or two made the wheezing sound that had come out of Shining after the first time Cadence had kissed him. She couldn’t help but wonder if part of that was the obvious tightness of their uniforms against their chests.

Judging by his grimace, Shining recognized the sound as well. "Um, hi, everyone."

"Now, I may know a fair amount about safely and responsibly making love, but some questions are better answered from a male perspective.” Cadence braced herself for what was about to come. “So who would like to ask Shining something?"

A forest of raised arms shot into the air. To the students’ credit, the wave of sound she’d half-expected never came to pass.

Cadence nodded to Shining. "Go ahead."

"Uh... right. Sorry, kids, I’m going to have to learn your names as we go.” He scanned the room and pointed at Ginger Owlseye, an orange-skinned girl in the second row. “You, with the purple bangs."

Ginger bolted to her feet like she’d brushed against a thumbtack on her chair. "Um, I, I…” She blushed and shook her head as she sat back down. “I can't, I'm sorry."

The other students started murmuring to one another. Cadence swept a glare across the classroom, then smiled as she focused on the girl now trying to sink through the floor. "It's okay, Ginger. As I said, there's no shame here. You want honest answers. We want to provide them."

After a few moments, Ginger gave a shaky nod, though she still kept her gaze down on her desk. "O-Okay. Mr. Armor, are guys going to notice a girl like me with a small chest?"

Shining looked poleaxed. And maybe a few other polearms on top of that. "Ah."

Cadence moved next to him and softly said, "One of the reasons I called you in was one of the boys asking me something similar about penis size last week."

He clenched his fists, looking about the room. "Ah."

"No, he isn't in this class."

"I see.” After a deep breath, Shining said, “Honey, can I do something a little off-color?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Shining leaned in close and whispered his plan. Cadence raised her eyebrows, but after a moment, answered with, "Let's see where you go with that."

After a nod, Shining turned his attention back to Ginger. "I'm going to answer your question with a demonstration.” He took a step back and addressed the room. “All the guys who like girls, I want you to shut your eyes. Now imagine you're with a girl and she's bare from the waist up. Raise your hand if you care how big her chest is at that point."

Not a single hand went up. Ginger looked around, and Cadence could see the relief flood through her relaxing frame.

"Guys are simple creatures, Ginger,” said Shining. “If they're anything like me, they'll be grateful that you're giving them the time of day. And some guys prefer smaller breasts. Everyone has their own tastes."

"Very true,” Cadence said with a smile. “Thank you, Shining. So, for our next question… Yes, Neon?"

Neon Lights lowered his hand and adjusted his sunglasses. Cadence couldn’t see his eyes, but she doubted they held any hint of confidence. The rest of his posture certainly didn’t. "Uh, kind of a follow-up to that last bit, Ms. Cadence. When is a fetish too weird?"

Shining and Cadence shared a look. Any relationship can become close enough to reach the point of complex nonverbal communication. In this case, the growing haunted look in Shining's eyes clearly said, "I'm going to be stuck doing this for a while, aren't I?"

And the taut lines around Cadence's serene facade all but screamed, "If I am, you absolutely are."

With five periods of sex ed to teach each day, Cadence barely spent any time in the principal’s office, making what she could spare there all the more important. And as she went through the stack of reports Ira had provided, she appreciated just how important this particular matter was.

“Incredible,” she said as she worked her way through all the forms. “Simply incredible. And these are just the last few days?”

“Indeed, Miss Amore,” Ira said from her usual spot at the side of the desk. “It’s not even the whole picture. Apparently some students chose to sidestep the usual process and acquire replacements with their own time and resources.”

“I can hardly blame them. If we even have this much in reserve, any more will definitely clean us out.”

“As you say, ma’am. This many requests for larger uniforms is unprecedented.”

Cadence lingered on yet another form that requested a larger bra, among other things. “Making underwear part of it is an abomination. It’s not like we’re going to check. It’s been a way to squeeze more out of the students and everyone down to the freshmen knows it.”

Ira looked off into the middle distance. “I’d like to maintain my plausible deniability there for the next few minutes, ma’am.”

That got a smile, if only for a few moments. “I admit, I am worried about what the board will say about this. I may have started the process, but actually following through before they offer their feedback? That’s definitely overstepping my bounds, especially given how hesitant some of them were about the idea.”

“If I may speak honestly, ma’am?”

“I hope you don’t need to ask permission every time,” Cadence said with a smirk.

Ira returned the faintest upturn of her lips. “They’re more afraid of you than you are of them. You should hear my mother talk about you when you’re not there. The way she tells it, you’re intent on burning the school to the ground and dancing in the ashes.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Cadence sighed. “Just because I’m not going that far doesn’t mean they can’t censure me. Maybe even try to get Cinch back.”

“You can get another week or so out of the Friendship Games disaster, ma’am. If you ask me, you should milk it for all it’s worth.”

Cadence raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you the one who told me I was pushing too hard? I am still going to need to work with the board when that week’s up.”

“True. But speaking as someone who also had to wear that uniform?” Ira directed such a hateful glare at the request forms, Cadence was surprised they didn’t burst into flame. “Nuke the policy from orbit, ma’am. It’s the only way to be sure.”

The Friendship Games team, fully aware of their need to find a different term for themselves, staggered out of the auditorium at the end of the day, all but blinded by the wide vistas of potential fashion laid out before them.

“Right, Imma stress test this.”

At least, that was how Sunny Flare had felt before Lemon Zest had opened her big mouth and begun undoing the bow on her uniform.

“Must you?” said Sunny, even as she and the others herded Lemon to an out-of-the-way corner of the hallway.

“Why mustn't you?” Lemon beamed as she balled up the ribbon and tossed it at Sunny’s face. “Nothing's forbidden! Everything's permitted!

Indigo rolled her eyes. “You are not an assassin.”

“My horse self could be an assassin,” Lemon said while unbuttoning her jacket. “And I bet she doesn't wear much either.”

Sour Sweet scrunched up her nose in confusion. “Horse self?”

Lemon shrugged, sending the jacket to the floor. “Apparently it's a full-blown parallel universe situation. Just with magic horses instead of goatees.” She undid her skirt, nodding like anything she was doing or talking about was remotely reasonable. “You guys really gotta talk with Twilight. She's fun when no one's Cinching up the room.”

“I understand what you mean by that,” said Sugarcoat, “but "cinch" is already a verb.”

Lemon snorted as she pulled off her shirt. “Yeah, 'cause everyone knows every word in Wranglish only has one meaning.”

Sour smirked. “She's got you there.”

“Am I the only one bothered by our friend stripping to her underwear in the middle of the hallway?” said Sunny.

The others, Lemon included, shared uncertain looks. Then Indigo shrugged and pulled off her own indifferently tied ribbon. “You’ve probably seen worse in sex ed.”

“Heard about how hunky her fiancé is,” said Lemon, who started making her way for the exit. The others followed her. Even Sunny relaxed a little as she saw no one seemed to mind the girl in hot pink underwear that seemed designed to exaggerate her breasts. Just the opposite, going by the lingering looks. A nudge brought her attention back to Lemon herself. “Kinda jealous you’re getting that eye candy on a daily basis, won’t lie.”

“Would magic horse land even have assassins?” Sour Sweet mused, undoing her own vest. “I saw what was on the other side of those tears. They seem too cute for that.”

“We can always ask that Sunset girl Twilight's crushing on. She’s from there,” Lemon said as she walked out of the building.

The others stood stunned for a moment before racing after her. “She's what!?” they chorused.

Lemon nodded. “Yeah, girl's a unicorn.”

“Not that!” cried Sunny, unbuttoning her jacket. It was a warm day, after all. “Twilight has a crush?”

“My disappointment is immeasurable, and my day is ruined,” Sugarcoat deadpanned, likewise making allowances for the weather.

Sour’s expression wavered between a smirk and sympathy. “... Really?”

That got a shrug. “To a degree. She was one of the nicest people here, to a fault.” After a thoughtful pause and removing her skirt, Sugarcoat added, “And she had a cute butt.”

Lemon patted her on the back. “You know what they say, Sugar, there's plenty of butts in the sea. And we're working on Crystal Prep being less horrible.” Draping one arm over Sugarcoat’s shoulders, she swept her other hand over the campus.

It was the fastest trend Sunny had ever seen; people dropping bits of their uniforms like shedding snakes everywhere she looked. Judging by the number of girls who were undoing their bras and holding them in place with their forearms, she was far from the only one who’d noticed some unexpected tightness. She’d never felt overdressed while standing on Crystal Prep’s lawn before.

“Apparently that includes streaking.” The snark couldn’t completely hide Sunny’s… Well, calling it discomfort wasn’t entirely accurate. A few fantasies about the boys’ locker room came to mind, without any of the harsh reality about the likely odors.

“Manifold are my schemes and stratagems,” said Lemon, puffing out her chest to significant effect. “On that note, y'all up for another movie night sometime this week?”

The others murmured affirmations at varying levels of volume, enthusiasm, and blushing.

Sunny sighed. “Can we at least start with some actual cinema this time?”

Lemon nodded with a grin. “Sure! I need time to find something that can measure up to what we watched anyway.”

Most directors could only hope to inspire the blend of dread and anticipation Sunny felt at that.

The next day saw an explosion of variety in wardrobe and smiles on students’ faces. Cadence almost felt like a spoilsport by keeping on her usual outfit. The atmosphere of the principal’s office definitely had that feeling. “This room really needs some windows,” she said as she opened the door.

"Something to bear in mind for the future, ma’am,” said Ira, who’d been standing on the other side.

Cadence flinched back. “I take it you have something important?”

Ira nodded. Between the fingers tapping against the clipboard and the hints of tension about her eyes, she looked on the verge of panic. For her. “Critically, ma'am."

"What is it? The board?"

"They’ve been silent. One of the janitors reported an odd whining sound coming up from the sub-basement.” Ira gulped. “When was the last time you looked at the generator?"

Cadence felt her purse drop from nerveless fingers. "Um..."

"You... have been looking after the generator, have you not?"

"With all the reforms, it completely slipped my mind.” Cadence dreaded her next question, but she had to ask it. “How often did Abacus maintain it?"

"At least once a week," said Ira.

Cadence nodded. "Ah. If you'll excuse me.” With poise that would do her old dance teacher proud, she spun on a heel and ran like hell.

Author's Note

Vision Cone is a humanized guardsmare, specifically this one. (No, that's not the tag they're using on Derpibooru, but it's not like that's official, so nyeh.)

Yes, they really do sell plushies of the CMBR.

And next time... Well, not all Hell breaks loose, but a significant quantity will.

Pushing the Envelope

In a surreal way, Cadence’s headlong rush down the stairs was almost nostalgic. For the briefest moment, she let herself imagine she was late for math class after losing track of time while making out with Shining.

Then students scrambled out of her way as she jumped the last four stairs to the ground floor, and her calves reminded her it had been more than a few years since her days on the track team.

"Principal Cadence!” Cadence spared a glance at her side, seeing a ponytailed girl keeping pace with her. “So glad I finally ran into you! Or the other way around."

She kept running for the basement. "Sour, I'm sorry, but this cannot wait."

"But—"

"I'm sure Dean Vehementi can help you with whatever you need."

Sour started flagging. Cadence hadn’t done competitive long jump in a while, but she did keep up with her morning jog. "But... she's...!"

A purple hand snapped out and grabbed Sour by the arm, wrenching her to a halt and making Cadence stop along with her. “We can discuss that privately, Miss Sweet.” Ira gave the principal a hard look. “Go.”

The objection to taking such actions against a student died in Cadence’s throat. She nodded and kept going. "So glad I learned how to run in heels," she muttered as she got to the basement access. “No one follow me or it’s detention through next year!”

She didn’t know if any of the students behind her were watching, or had even heard. Right now, she had more important things to worry about. Her feet pounded their way down, making the whole rickety staircase shake.

The dust filling the air made Cadence stagger and wheeze, forcing her to slow down. Her heart pounded in her ears as she continued onward, skin prickling as the adrenaline coursed through her system.

Now that she was going slow enough to appreciate details, what had just seemed neglected before felt menacing enough for a horror movie. Gloom barely alleviated by low-watt bulbs left plenty of cobweb-filled shadows for crazed slashers or horrid monsters. Being a desperate attractive woman moving as fast as she could didn't help.

Then she turned a corner and stopped in her tracks. Something stabbed through the darkness, more startling than any maniac's knife for being far more unexpected. Hot pink light shone out of the closed doorway into the sub-basement. As Cadence drew closer, she let her hand pass through the radiance. At first, she drew back in surprise at the literal heat, but another try found it to be sweltering, but not painful.

"That still can't be a good sign," she said to herself. She shucked off her jacket and unlocked the door.

Once she opened it, heat and light poured out, forcing Cadence to shade her eyes with a forearm while she adjusted. Once the spots faded, she made her way down into the torrid chamber.

The whole room was awash in pink. The generator itself shone with almost blinding intensity, the sigil glowing white-hot.

"Okay. Okay. I can deal with this," Cadence said to herself. "I don't know how, but I can figure it out." She moved to the laptop, opened it up, and saw the worst thing she could have imagined.

Username: acinch
Password:

"Oh. Oh, shit." Sweat started dripping down her brow, not just because of the heat. "Okay. Don't panic. Just think, what would Abacus pick?"

Password: Reputation

Invalid password

"Okay. So much for the obvious option." Cadence looked under the laptop, under the desk, anywhere she could for a convenient sticky note with so much as a hint about the password.

Nothing. She could say a lot of things about Abacus Cinch, but the woman took information security more seriously than the stereotypical old lady.

"Okay. Fine. Maybe I can guess it."

Password: noitatuper

Invalid password

Password: 12345

Invalid password

Password: CelestiaIsABitch

Invalid password
Too many failed logins. Locking system for 24 hours.

"What? No, no!" Cadence cried. She smacked the side of the computer, to no avail. "You can't do this. You can't... I..." She slumped to her knees, panting for breath in the stifling air. And she realized the heat coursing through her body wasn't entirely physical. "How… How can I be turned on at a time like this?" Her skin prickled, her nipples pressed against her bra, and her crotch felt like it was on extremely pleasurable fire. "This shouldn't—"

The sound of snapping thread interrupted her. Slowly, disbelievingly, Cadence looked down just in time to see another button shoot off of her blouse. She distantly registered it clattering against the floor. Most of her attention was spent watching her bust visibly swell.

"That's impossible." The heat and arousal combined to make Cadence’s head start to spin. Despite herself, she gave an almost drunken giggle. "I'm sitting next to a portal to Hell and I'm telling myself something's impossible." She winced as she registered her bra straps digging into her flesh. Without thinking about it, she reached back to undo the clasps.

The good news was that she didn't need to. The bad news was that the straps tore apart at that point, and the front of her blouse followed soon after, buttons scattering across the room.

"Oh wow..." Cadence shook her head. It was like the pink was getting inside, clouding her thoughts with pleasurable heat. But she had to get out of—

This time tearing cloth disrupted her train of thought. She looked down to see twin rips crawling up the sides of her skirt like one-way zippers, prompted by widening hips.

Cadence bit her lip. "Fuck, that's hot." Her hands went to the collar of her blouse and pulled, tearing apart fabric as flimsy as rice paper and letting her grapefruit-sized breasts spill out. She groped them as she envisioned herself as a living fertility idol, ludicrous proportions lavished with liquid worship as the meaty cocks of her supplicants—

She squeezed hard enough to leave bruises. Nails longer than she remembered dug into the plumping flesh, which only helped break her out of her stupor. "I've got to get out of here now."

Head swimming, Cadence staggered to her feet and almost immediately fell back down. A hand on the folding table holding the laptop steadied her as she looked down at her shoes. The sensible wedges had elongated into six-inch stilettos, what she could only think of as "fuck me" heels. Cadence swore that the things were growing even as she watched.

She sat back down on the concrete, tearing off the shoes with a growl. Then the sheer leggings she didn't remember putting on that morning. Then the remains of her blouse, so she could finally get back to her attention-demanding breasts. Then—

Even as Cadence tore off her skirt, she realized she'd fallen into the trap again. "Damn!" She shifted forward again to stand up... and gasped as her lower lips ground against a body-warm surface that was perfectly textured for just that purpose.

Cadence found herself grinding against the floor a few more times, a length of concrete rising to meet her like she was giving the room itself an erection. She grinned at the idea. So sexy that she could arouse buildings. Imagine what she could do to—

She bit the inside of her mouth, which ended up muffling the moan that came from mixing pain and pleasure. Still, it broke her rhythm enough to get her moving for the stairs. She moved at a literal crawl, but it was still forward progress. Her panties caught on a rough patch of the concrete dick, tearing and turning into a damp cotton loincloth, but she put that out of mind. All that mattered was getting out of here before she never wanted to leave.

Sweat dripped down every inch of Cadence's body, along with other fluids. She panted with every breath, a feverish heat consuming her. The stairs felt like they were a mile away, her own hair forming an impenetrable veil that kept her from seeing how far she'd come.

At some point, between her drooping stance and growing breasts, her nipples started brushing against the floor. Each moment of contact lasted longer and felt better than the last. After a few brief eternities, Cadence started pressing her chest against the textured surface as she moved, savoring every bump until the one between her head and the foot of the stairs.

"Mmm..." Cadence screwed up her face as the pain outweighed the pleasure. She gasped and grabbed at the stairs, desperately pulling herself up out of the pit one step at a time, eyes fixed on the doorway that seemed impossibly far away. The pink glow of the generator flickered through the banister's support beams like a maddening strobe light in her peripheral vision. She panted with both mental and physical exertion, hauling more mass and resisting more temptation with every inch.

Halfway to escape, Cadence felt something plunge into her soaking depths. It took her a few moments to realize it was her own left hand. Still, she kept going, hauling herself up one-handed and wondering if she could really hear herself sizzle in the choking heat.

Eventually she flopped out onto the floor of the main basement, panting for breath and still shlicking away. She rolled away from the beam of pink light, feeling dust and grime adhere to her sweat-soaked form. Awareness fading, she hooked a foot behind the wide-open door and kicked it back, leaving her in the cool darkness.

Only then did Cadence allow herself to reach a frenzied climax, fingers freely pinching and pumping.

And the door, not quite closed, creaked open ever so slightly.

Drama class was not an easy A at Crystal Prep, and anyone who thought otherwise left in tears after Mrs. Limelight tore into them with all the fury of a theater critic scorned. Students weren’t just expected to perform the assigned plays, but direct them and understand them inside and out.

"How can you think of rewriting a romantic classic?"

Not for the first time, Sunny Flare wondered how any of her classmates had made it this far into the year. "It's Roameo and Julienne, Crystal. It's literally two hormone-fueled, infatuated idiots committing suicide because he never learned how to check a pulse. We may be creating a kinder, friendlier Crystal Prep, but that doesn't mean I'm putting up with plot contrivances just because Spear Shaker wrote them."

The girl shook her head. If it hadn’t been for her ponytail and the lack of pink streaks in her hair, it would have almost been like looking in a much less dignified mirror. "But—"

Much less dignified, since Sunny knew her weak spot. "Also, you get to make out with Pokey Pierce in this version."

Crystal’s gaze immediately darted to the boy in question, pacing about one of the lines of seats in the auxiliary theater and rehearsing lines for their project. Sunny wasn’t sure what he was doing, but she had to admit, he’d bulked up nicely over the past few weeks. For people into that sort of thing, anyway. The open collared shirt going halfway down his chest certainly didn’t hurt.

Crystal licked her lips and said, "I mean, 'timelessness' as a concept is really just an excuse to stop innovating. Even the greatest works need a little revision to stay relevant, right?"

"Couldn't agree more," Sunny said with a nod. “So, Roameo will have his soliloquy go on a bit longer, he’ll swear to bear Julienne’s memory forever in his heart, pledge his life to mending the rift between the two houses, you know, stuff he’ll forget about in two weeks when he sees another pretty face.”

“You have no romance in your soul, you know that?” Crystal frowned and tugged at where her uniform collar would have been. She blinked and looked down at the expanse of cyan skin glistening with sweat above her bandeau top. “And there’s no ventilation in this room.”

Sunny fanned herself. Her own off-the-shoulder dress was stylish, daringly cut with a slit running up her left leg, and about ten more minutes away from being ruined by her own sweat. “Yeah, no kidding. So, Nurse comes in, tells him the good news, Julienne revives, and—”

“They’re screwing each other on stage?”

That got a blink. “That’s… a bit more explicit than what I had in mind.”

Crystal shook her head, not looking away from whatever spectacle had captured her attention. “No, right now, on stage.”

Sunny looked. It did take her a few moments to confirm what was happening. Upper Crust and Jet Set had always been close, but grinding on one another the way they were was new. “They are wearing leotards.” Ones that nearly matched their respective skin tones, but still.

“Yeah, but they’re doing their best to go through them.”

After lingering on Jet’s crotch more than a professional ought to, Sunny cleared her throat and said, “More proof that interpretive dance is a lower class of performance than theatre.” She’d have turned up her nose, but the dancers had been holding that kiss for a good twenty seconds now and she didn’t want to miss seeing them finally come up for air.

“Uh huh.” Crystal sat in one of the front row seats.

Sunny followed suit even as she said, “We do need to work on this scene.” But all the same, she kept an eye on both of them. She could’ve sworn she saw some tears in the suits, but the color matched their skin so closely that she had to watch carefully to be sure.

“We were going to rehearse after class anyway.”

The two finally broke away, Upper somersaulting to put them into a standing sixty-nine. Sunny glanced about the room. Everyone was watching the performance, even Mrs. Limelight. “Well,” she decided, “we might as well scope out the competition.”

Sugarcoat prided herself on… well, with the benefit of hindsight, she could say she’d prided herself on more things than she probably should’ve. But she still took pride in her observational skills. It was hard to point out flaws and salient points if you couldn’t pay attention to the world around you.

She didn’t see what caused the change, but the shift itself was easy to spot. The frustrated undertone faded from Mr. Function’s lecture, leaving him discussing the powers of i as serenely as Happy Accident talking his audience through a landscape.

“And once we hit five, well, that’s just one times i. So we loop back around and the cycle repeats, on and on.” Mr. Function offered the class a smile that spoke of either cosmic serenity or chemical abuse. “Isn’t that wonderful, class?”

Sugarcoat looked around the room. As had often been the case lately, the rest of the class seemed more interested in undressing each other with their eyes than imaginary numbers. A few were taking matters into their own hands, pulling clothing up or down and failing to do it surreptitiously.

She looked back to Mr. Function. His expression hadn’t shifted one bit. Indeed, he seemed content to stand there for the rest of the day. Sugarcoat wasn’t sure what mathematical beauty had transfixed him, but it wasn’t anywhere to be seen in the classroom.

“... Yes?” she hazarded.

“Yes.” Mr. Function nodded and turned back to the whiteboard. “Yes it is.” He began writing out equations far more advanced than what they’d been working on, humming some oddly modulated pattern of notes that wasn’t quite music.

Sugarcoat tugged at her blouse. There wasn’t much of it, but she could swear it was getting warmer in the room. And there was some faint scent that she couldn’t place, something that brought to mind nights with Lemon Zest for no reason she could think of.

A pair of booty shorts landing on her head might have distracted lesser minds. Sugarcoat recorded her observations with the rest of her class notes before balling up the shorts and tossing them back at their green-on-green owner.

“Hey!” cried Cold Forecast.

“There are other people in the room. Remember that next time you decide to do a striptea—” A spaghetti-string tank top smacked into the side of Sugarcoat’s head. She felt an eyelid twitch. “Are we seriously doing this?”

Neon Lights whooped and whipped off his shirt. “Strip fight!”

“So that’s a yes.”

And Mr. Function continued to work, oblivious and enraptured by passion for the subject.

All things considered, Shining felt that the M.A.R.E. course was a success thus far. Oh, no one would be able to tell for sure until one of his students was actually faced with a temptation to the Dark Side, but he was cobbling together a curriculum from pop culture and a handful of real-world cases. Even having classes was a positive sign. That students were paying attention to him and not each other was another achievement; he remembered what he and Cadence had been like at that age.

Oh, sure, having to scramble to cover the material on his own wasn’t fun, but it wasn’t the first time he’d had to improvise with little preparation, as his college O&O buddies could attest.

"Based on every real-life example we have,” he said, carefully not mentioning how many that was, “magic appeals to your innermost desires. Whether that's power, knowledge, adoration, it goes after what you want most and offers an easy way to get it. But there's always a cost: Perspective, morality, sanity..." Shining frowned and tugged at his collar.

"Are you okay, Mr. Armor?" asked one of the girls in the front row. To Shining’s embarrassment, he was still learning names.

"Just getting warm in here."

The pale yellow girl smiled, one hand idly toying with her two-tone red ponytail. "You're in a full suit, sir, and it is June. I don't think anyone will mind if you take something off."

After a moment’s consideration, especially of the class’s enviably lighter outfits, Shining nodded and loosened his tie. "Yeah. Guess I wanted to look professional. This is serious, everyone, but I still feel silly standing up here and talking about magic of all things."

The students started removing clothes as well. Shining couldn’t blame them. It had been getting warmer since the start of the period, and the summer sun beaming in through sealed windows didn’t help. "A lot of us were at the Friendship Games, Mr. Armor,” said the girl who’d made the offer. “We know it's serious."

Shining smiled, especially when many of the other kids nodded. "Right. Thanks, everyone." He blinked, shaking his head as he took off his jacket. "Where was I?"

"How magic changes people," one of the boys in the back said through his shirt as he shucked it off.

Another girl added, "Their bodies."

"Right.” Shining closed the blinds, then went to the laptop on the desk, connected to the overhead projector. “I have some slides ready for that. Most of these are artists' interpretations based on shaky cell phone photos, but I think they get the point across." He clicked to a new slide every few seconds as he kept trying to get comfortable. There was a definite theme of wings, boots, and a blatant disregard for the laws of gravity and aerodynamics.

Also, he had to admit, bodies that didn’t look teenaged any more. To gather enough material for the course, Shining had had to dust off bookmarks that had been left untouched since he and Cadence had started getting serious. Muscle memory from lonely college nights had him removing clothing while barely aware of doing so. It joined the other faint whispers of fabric hitting the floor as everyone silently took in the images.

Even the live photos showed why Shining could count on Rule 34 of the Internet to provide visual aids. Seductive stares, the allure of power, painted-on outfits… The artists had barely needed to do anything.

Shining’s eyes bugged out as he realized he’d lingered on one traced and edited shot of Midnight Sparkle and Daydream Shimmer, leaving both completely nude as they raced towards one another. He bolted up, trying to ignore his pants falling to his ankles as his undone belt flapped about. Along with something else. “S-so! Any questions?”

"Is there a reason magic changes outfits?" asked one girl, who seemed to be scratching an itch on her chest with one hand. With the shades drawn—not that it did much against the heat—it was hard to tell.

Shining made up something that sounded reasonable with all the skill of an experienced Oubliette Overseer. "It's like I said. Magic seems to go after base desires. And one of the most basic is reproduction. Looking attractive for possible mates. Every imperfection glossed over. Every asset enhanced.” His gaze panned across the classroom and saw many of the students following suit. A lot of scratching going on. And a few hand gestures that he definitely couldn’t have gotten away with back in his day.

But darn it, Shining wanted to be one of the cool teachers. “Part of the danger with magic is it promising everything and taking more. It looks too good to be true, because it is." He went to the next slide, sighed, and went to the one after that. "Especially when it's my little sister."

Oddly breathy laughter answered him.

Indigo Zap didn’t mind an early morning gym class. If anything, getting a chance to get moving followed by a brisk shower woke her up better than coffee ever could. But this morning it felt like there was some bit of fog her mind couldn’t quite break through.

She turned to the girl next to her. “Uh, Lightning?”

"What is it, loser?" Lightning Dust didn’t look away from rinsing herself off.

Indigo scowled. "You're really not letting that go, are you?"

Lightning, icon of Crystal Prep respectability that she was, flipped the very respectable and reputable bird at Indigo. "I'm not talking about the Friendship Games. I beat you in the relay today."

"Oh, is that how it is?"

"Hey, step up next time and maybe you'll get to call me 'loser.'” Lightning snorted. “And then we can ride flying pigs to magic horse land."

Indigo flipped her off. "Screw you."

"You wanna do it yourself, or did you have someone in mind?" Lightning waved a hand towards the far wall of the showers. Two girls knelt on waterproof cushions, bobbing their heads up and down. A third had pressed her crotch against the wall, whimpering in pleasure as her legs shook. Two cushions were free, sitting before holes wide enough to let a baseball through the thin wall. Chatter and spattering water from the boys’ side filtered through.

“Yeah, that’s what I was trying to bring up.” Indigo tilted her head as she took it in, trying to remember if she remembered it. “Does that seem... off to you?”

“What, guys trying to stick their dicks in anything that’ll fit?” Lightning shoulder-checked her as she strode to one of the vacant cushions. “Come on, let’s see if you can win this race.”

The prospect of competition drove any other concerns out of Indigo’s mind. “Oh, you’re so on.”

There was no reason to race to cushions that weren’t even on the other side of the room, but they did anyway, because competing only when there was a point missed the point of competition. The two fit in more shoving, insults, nipple pinches, and ass slaps in a dozen steps than seemed possible. The kiss was fleeting enough that they agreed to ignore it without saying a word.

Indigo made it to the closer one by sliding across the slick tile on her knees. It’d sting, but that was the price of victory. From there, it was a matter of knocking on the wall like she’d done… No, yeah, she’d definitely done this before.

“So, um…” Lightning fidgeted next to her. “You know, I think I kind of understand what—”

“Hold that thought,” Indigo said as a tawny brown dick presented itself, nearly hitting her in the nose in its eagerness. She spared a smirk at Lightning before taking the head in her mouth. Thankfully, there wasn’t any bitter soap clinging to it. Always nice to see a little courtesy. Or taste it.

“Oh, you’re not winning that easy!” Wet squelching sounded from Lightning, soon followed by gagging and pulling away to cough.

Indigo just smirked and continued to bob her lips along her mystery partner. Typical Lightning. All sprinting, no stamina. She had this one in the bag.

A sudden finger in her snatch made her freeze and squeak. “Mmph?”

From the other side of the wall, a voice moaned, “Oh yeah, talk to me, baby.”

Indigo pulled away, recognizing the voice and immediately annoyed by it. “This isn’t a date, Thunderbolt!” She glared at Lightning next. “What the hell?”

The other girl just stuck out her tongue, one hand running along the bright pink length of her partner while the other was teasing Indigo’s clit. “Hey, any edge you can get, right?”

“If that’s the way you want to play it…” Indigo took Thunderbolt’s cock back in her mouth, returned the favor for Lightning, and used her free hand to massage her own breast while she was at it. No one could multitask like a Shadowbolt, and she’d prove it.

It was a good thing the coaches had sent them to the showers half an hour before the end of the period.

“Alright, Miss Sweet. Let’s talk.”

Sour blinked. Last she’d checked, she’d been chasing after the freakishly fast principal when the very woman she’d been worried about had popped out of nowhere and grabbed her by the wrist. And now, without any time in between, she was in Cadence’s old office.

The shape of the room was the same, anyway. All the plushies and therapy puppets and posters on loving yourself had been replaced by suggestive sculptures, deep shadows, and posters of people, well, loving themselves. And each other.

Dean Vehementi offered a thin smile. “I’d like to think that you’re mature enough that we can settle our differences without dragging Principal Amore into it.” She might have even sounded believable if she didn’t still have that strange overlapping effect, an emaciated horror and living fertility idol laid over the prim and proper glorified secretary. The only consistent feature between the three of her was the wild, frizzed-out hair.

It wasn’t the strangest thing Sour had ever seen, though the shade of purple did bring Midnight Sparkle to mind. She kept the shudder internal and presented her best doe eyes. “I don’t want to bother the principal either, Dean Vehementi, but I’m used to working with her. No offense, I’m just getting comfortable with you.”

“I understand. Frankly, I’m still growing into this position myself.”

Yeah, I bet. Sour bit her lip to keep the thought to herself. Sugarcoat had long since taught her the importance of tact by counterexample. But she couldn’t help but glance at the immense, translucent boobs that threatened to spill out onto the desk, restrained by a single button of fetish gear masquerading as a pantsuit.

“But I assure you,” the dean continued, “I am more than willing to lend a sympathetic ear to any difficulties you may be having, with me or otherwise.”

Sour squirmed. The room felt a lot stuffier than during her talks with Cadence. Even without trying to think her way out of this mess, she could barely breathe. “W-well, that’s really nice of you, but I think it can wait until after class.” Or for the rest of our lives.

Dean Vehementi smirked. “Miss Sweet, I am the dean of students. I can sign you out of however many classes it will take.” She reached into the desk, produced a pad of double-wide sticky note leaves of absence, and started filling one out.

All the friendship lessons in the world couldn’t hold Sour’s tongue. “Okay, how can you see that through those beach balls on your chest?” She covered her mouth, flush with embarrassment—probably just embarrassment—but it was too late.

The dean’s pen stopped midletter. “Ah. I see.” She looked up, one eyebrow raised. “As do you.”

“Th-that slipped out.” Sour tried for her best brainless giggle. What came out was more accurately described as hysterical. “You know me, crazy Sour Sweet!”

“I have kept an eye on your schizophreniform symptoms since they emerged last year, at the request of both Ms. Cinch and Principal Amore.” Dean Vehementi rose from her seat and walked behind Sour, the exaggerated proportions seeming more solid now. More real. “I should have realized after the incident at the Friendship Games that they could have hinted at something more.”

“Look. It’s nothing. Really.” Sour’s eyes darted, but despite all her efforts, she couldn’t get herself to get out of the chair. She fought to at least keep her breathing and bladder under control. Rubbing her thighs together was just part of that. Never mind how she could feel more and more of the chair without fabric in the way. “Can I go?”

“Not until we resolve this, for both our sakes.” The dean loomed behind Sour, who couldn’t even turn her head. She felt fingers hook under the spaghetti straps of her top and tug, snapping them effortlessly. Just feeling fabric brush against her nipples—had she ever put on a bra this morning?—was enough to make her gasp. “You poor thing. You don’t even realize what you are.”

Sour licked her dry lips. Her hands reached up to tug down her top, and she wasn’t sure if she’d told them to or not. The air caressed her bare breasts with feather-soft touches. “I-increasingly concerned?” she forced out.

“And a seer.” Purple flesh intruded on Sour’s peripheral vision. The immense boobs were all too real, their weight pressing on her shoulders and the smell of sweat and some unknown perfume making her head swim. “Skew a mind a few degrees from conventional reality, give it some magic, and it will perceive all manner of things.”

“I… I…” Sour shook her head, a difficult task while pressed between Dean Vehementi’s breasts. “No. This isn’t happening. I’m probably drooling in some rubber room somewhere. Have been since the FriendshiiIIII!”

The chair vanished, or maybe had never been there in the first place. Sour fell into the dean’s voluminous lap. On the one hand, that got her head out of the mammary vice. On the other, ticklish brushing against her hips and a glance down told her her shorts had unravelled into a pile of threads. One that did nothing to protect her against long, purple fingers rubbing against her outer lips.

“I assure you, Miss Sweet, this is all really happening. But I can’t have you giving the game away just yet.” The dean sounded almost regretful as she began to roll one of Sour’s nipples between her fingers. “So we’ll have to give you a few small adjustments for the time being.”

“Oh, fuck me.”

That prompted a warm chuckle that made Sour open her legs a little wider. “Yes, dear. That’s the idea.”

Sour found her neck free to turn just as the dean leaned down. There was no sign of the skeletal monster or the unflappable office lady. Just pure sex on legs. And the smell of the breast dangling in front of her, nipple like a grape hanging plump and enticing…

She latched on and began to suckle. The fingers pulled away from her groin, making her whimper around her mouthful, but something thicker replaced them, making her skin tingle where it touched. A brief glance showed a tendril of glowing pink slowly thrusting into her. Sour moaned, pulling off of the breast with a pop as pleasure coursed along her every nerve.

“Now,” said the most beautiful voice in the world, “here’s what you think of me…”

If it had been up to Cadence, she would’ve waited until the end of the day to come back out of the basement. For one thing, she felt exhausted from the struggle to claw her way out of the generator room and could use the recovery time. For another, she didn’t have a stitch on her other than her blazer. The new clothing policy wasn’t quite that casual. Not that her outfit would’ve fit her newly porn-worthy measurements. And she didn’t look forward to explaining those, either…

But she had a duty to her students, and trying to take a sick day still left the question of how she’d get home without getting arrested. So, as per the advice of generations of Crystal Prep gym teachers, Cadence walked it off as best she could.

She tried to close the door to the sub-basement, but she found she’d broken the latch in her scramble back up… somehow. She pressed it as shut as it would go, looked at the literally hot pink still streaming through the cracks, and decided it was as good as it could be.

It was still first period when she emerged, so the hallways were all but barren. Cadence couldn’t deny a certain thrill in racing through the halls wearing nothing but a jacket she couldn’t hope to close over her pendulous chest. After a few moments of fruitless struggle with her arms, she sighed and let them drop. There was no point in trying to cover up, so that left owning it. If Cinch had taught her anything worthwhile, it was that a good chunk of unquestionable authority lay in acting like you knew what you were doing.

Thus, Cadence strode confidently through the halls despite the tingling along every inch of her exposed skin. Let the students see her. This was fine. Nothing unusual here. Perfectly normal.

That self-assurance soon developed into a mental chant. This is normal. This is normal. This is normal.

A few times, motion in the corner of her eye proved to be something harmless: A loose flyer, a food wrapper that had missed a wastebasket, a discarded skirt that was sadly much too small for her.

Then Cadence heard someone on the second floor landing while halfway up the stairs.

This is normal, this is normal, this is normal…

She forced herself to keep a steady pace, thoughts of Shining alone and unprepared spurring her on. Her fists clenched into a white-knuckle grip as she prepared her best dismissive tone for the inevitable questions.

Thisisnormal, thisisnormal, thisisnormal

“Morning, Principal Cadence.”

Cadence risked looking at the boy. He smiled back, maintaining eye contact with no apparent struggle to look any lower.

As he should, much as Cadence didn’t need to make note of his bare, toned chest. After all, everything was perfectly normal.

She smiled back. “Good morning. I’m afraid I’m running a little late, but I hope you have a good day.”

He waved and went downstairs, a flattering tent in his shorts. “Thanks. You too!”

Cadence basked in the warm glow of the little victory. Students would’ve never dared to greet Cinch like that before the Games. Whatever she’d been worrying about on her way upstairs fell out of mind as she strode into the sex ed classroom.

Seeing everyone naked made her smile. She wouldn’t have to imagine it to fight off any lingering nerves. Plus, the mood was clearly set for the subject matter. The video of three young women keeping several men very entertained helped there. Cadence made a mental note to try to contact them. The yellow one with hair like an orange cloud, handily managing four cocks at once and smiling like a virtuoso mid-performance, could provide three weeks of guest lectures on her own.

She waited for the money shot before interrupting. “Sorry, everyone. Had some administrivia to deal with. Where are we?”

“Well, we’ve got less than ten minutes left,” said Shining. He rose from his chair, already risen in other ways. “I’ve covered the introductory M.A.R.E. material and fielded some more questions about intimate relationships.” He nodded at the paused image of the three young women, the blue and purple in the middle of licking each other’s faces clean while the yellow was in the middle of guiding one of the men to following suit with her crotch. “We found some overlap there.”

Cadence beamed. “Perfect.” She wrapped one arm around Shining, brought the other to his crotch, and gave him the best thank you her lips and fingers could.

Coos and whistles from the students brought her attention back to them. Inspiration struck, and Cadence’s smile took on a more puckish slant. “Now, for homework, let’s see how well you can apply some of what you’ve been learning. By Monday, you can either write a three-page essay on how you’d approach a potential significant other… or you can tell me about a date you had over the weekend.” She nodded at the projector screen. “Video footage is optional but encouraged.”

She glanced at the clock. It was close enough to the bell. “You’re all dismissed.” As the students pulled the thin strips of their outfits back on, Cadence looked back at Shining with a full-on smirk. Hand still on his dick, she guided him to the desk and bent over it. “I need to confer with my co-instructor for a bit.”

Lunch was unusually subdued for the five girls, all of them lost in their own worlds, physically present but mentally elsewhere.

It took ten minutes for Sunny to break the silence. “How come you were late to second period, Sour?”

“Well, first period…” Sour wavered in her seat, then brought a hand to her head. “Ugh. First period, am I right, girls?”

Most of the others nodded.

“It was very irritating,” said Sugarcoat. She scowled. “I’ve apparently chosen to block out the specifics, but I definitely left math more aggravated than usual.”

“Lightning and I agreed to start the score over from scratch.” Indigo shrugged. “We, uh, kind of lost count.”

“You two, really?” said Sour.

“We were…” Indigo furrowed her brow. “Um. Well, something came up. Pretty sure.”

“No one seemed to focus in drama.” Sunny sighed and tilted her head back. “Myself included. Not sure what the problem was. Maybe it’s the heating going on the fritz.” She fanned herself for what felt like the millionth time that day. At least her dress only went down to her calves. “It’s June, for goodness sake.”

“Don’t tell me,” Sour said, turning to Lemon. “You slept like a baby and didn’t even notice anything off this morning.”

That got a shrug. “My first period’s band. Even if Mr. Pizzicato let me get away with falling asleep, you try dozing off when you’re on timpani.”

Sugarcoat hummed to herself. “So nothing unusual for you?”

“I was super horny, but I’m always turned on when I hit stuff with sticks.” Lemon shrugged, nipples clearly erect behind her waist-length band T-shirt. Sunny wasn’t sure if she was wearing any underwear and knew better than to ask questions she didn’t want answered.

Sugarcoat rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide a smirk. “Charming.”

“Hey, you got your turn-ons, I got mine. And the principal’s got hers.” Lemon turned and leered. “How’s sex ed, Sunny?”

She didn’t give Lemon the satisfaction of rising to that bait. “I have to hand it to Principal Cadence. She’s really come into her own, both as a teacher and as an administrator. I almost envy next year’s freshmen. Imagine four years at Crystal Prep spent completely free of Cinch.”

A cell phone buzzed, disrupting the Mareibbean tranquility of the resort. Abacus sighed, looked up from her paperback, and took the call. “Yes, Cadenza?”

"Ms. Cinch? I, well..."

"You've botched something, I'm sure.” Abacus sighed and leaned back in her deck chair, staring up at the perfect cerulean sky through her sunglasses. “You know, I kept paying for this service plan specifically because I knew this day would come."

"I know you have every right to be upset—"

"Indeed I do. But I've had some time to cool down and put things in perspective. And frankly? You've made your bed, Cadenza, and now you get to lie in it.” Abacus found herself savoring the next words, for all she’d never thought she’d say them. “Crystal Prep is no longer my problem, and we're both happier for it."

"But—!"

"No."

Just as she was about to end the call, then remove the phone’s SIM card, Cadenza blurted out, "The reactor!"

Abacus hesitated for a moment. "Ah. I’d wondered if you'd realized how little I'd told you about it. Well, I suppose making sure the thing doesn't melt down is everyone's problem. But don't expect me to come guide you through it in person."

"That, um, shouldn't be necessary.” Whatever that clearing of Cadenza’s throat entailed, Abacus knew she didn’t want to know. “I just need the password for that laptop. And maybe a—"

"Cadenza."

"Yes?"

Abacus rolled her eyes. "That's the password. Cadenza. Capital C."

"... Oh."

"Indeed. Good luck, Principal Amore. Never ask me for anything ever again." And Abacus hung up, found her page, and swore she’d never think about secondary education for the rest of her days.

Author's Note

Is it wrong to bring up Bob Ross in a porn fic? It feels wrong. Not quite Mr. Rogers wrong, but still...

And yes, Lemon really did have a work-safe first period. If she knew what her friends had gotten up to, she'd be as disappointed as you are.