Clitty on the Edge of Forever

You didn't come to this point in time right away. As fate would have it, that night at Steel Stables wasn't your last “dinner date” with Ms. Glimmer. Being shrunken down to the size of a toothpick for super kinky sexy times isn't something done in a week—much less a month—and there was a lot for you to prepare for. Physically, magically, and psychologically.

Long story short, you both enjoyed several “meetings” in the recent past, and most of them—okay, all of them—of the “safe for work” variety. In between simply getting to know one another, Starlight Glimmer reached into her purse and provided you with multiple reagents for—as she put it—“microcosmic practice.”

You could actually shrink yourself with the right ingredients! This doesn't come as a grand fucking surprise to anyone in Equestria; sorcerers have long been able to equip non-magic-born individuals with the materials necessary for casting their own spells... albeit in limited scope. And, in your case, Starlight has given you multiple “enchanted stones” for reducing your own size. Temporarily, of course. After all, Starlight isn't cruel—at least not when you aren't ready for her to be.

A good bulk of your dinner dates have consisted of her giving you instructions on how to properly use the stones and what kind of speech would be necessary to trigger the conjured spell. But—after the “homework” was properly prepared, the rest of the conversations were spent investing in one another, sharing fantasies, talking about life in general. It wasn't long until Starlight dominated the exchanges.

Naturally, she is way more interesting than you—although she would likely protest you saying such out loud. Simply put, she has a great deal more charisma and enthusiasm than you do, and this has manifested itself in prolonged bits of one-woman-rambling sessions. Not that you've minded one bit. You spent these entire dinner dates leaning forward with a dumb smile, staring at her face... and also her ample bosom. Surely she noticed—but Starlight never complained.

How could you be so friggin' lucky? Just what is it that Starlight sees in you?

It has occurred to you that maybe—just perhaps—this poor sexy woman is hella lonely. But that doesn't seem particularly true. She talks often about her “best besties” off in Ponyville.

Wait, Ponyville? But... that's where you grew up!

Sure enough, after a few date nights of conversation, you discovered that she lived for an extended period of time in your old home town. This was back when you were still growing into your teenage years and Ponvyille was an actual place of interest on the Equestrian map. Your youth is a fog of photographic nonsense—zipping back and forth and taking a bunch of inane pictures for the Foal Free Press. But there were a lot of stand-out occurrences back then: the Return of Nightmare Moon, the Rise and Fall of Discord, Tirek, Stormking, rumors of a portal that led to a place where everyone was a nonmagical quadruped. Truly fucking weird, epic stuff.

Was Starlight there the whole time? Helping out Princess Twilight and the other Elements of Harmony? She would have been a young woman of twenty-two, meanwhile you were a buck-toothed acne farm at aged ten. You wonder why you had never crossed paths. Then you start wondering about other stuff, and you feel more than a little bit dirty.

But, yes, Starlight has lived an interesting life. She's battled great threats to Equestria and enemies to harmony abroad. And now—in the prime of her life—her private obsession has led her straight to you. And she's invested a great deal of her personal stasssssh of magical reagents in training you to participate in something so dear and intimate to her. It's flattering, for fucking sure, but also more than a little bit intimidating.

What if you don't live up to her expectations? What if you can't perform well enough to satisfy her? What if this whole set up is for a fall and she never wants to talk to you again?

You stand here on the cusp of something grand—the death of your virginity and then some. What lies beyond is forever, and forever is a long dark place to spend alone... especially after having been abandoned for how pathetic and disappointing you are.

But then—at the start and end of each night—you feel Starlight's hands on your shoulder, gentle and kneading. Sisterly, motherly, and yet somehow super fucking hot all the same. And at a particularly tender moment in mid-conversation, she will smile and reach across the table to stroke the back of your wrist.

And each moment reminds of you how she held you dearly outside the Steel Stables on that first night... how she kept you from flying away because you were too overcome with the shame of who you are and your shortcomings (or short cummings, kappa). And something almost convinces you—almost—that there is nothing to be afraid of. There's something special about you. She's seen it, and maybe you will too. You just have to have faith. And hope. And there's nobody in your life you feel more obliged to believe in than this most beautiful and ravishing Ms. Glimmer.

So, to put it lightly, you've followed her magical “homework” instructions with the strength and dedication of a fucking zealot. The details given in how to handle the enchanted stones are quite meticulous.

“Blame Twilight,” Starlight often says, giggling nervously out the side of her mouth.

“Wait...” You will squint at her, tonguing the inside of your mouth. “Which 'Twilight'? Do you mean the Princess of Friends—?”

“Can you recite the magic words, Featherweight?” She wags a finger, like a teacher. She is a teacher.

Micro Equus Invocum.

Micro Equus Invocum.

Micro Equus Invocum.

These words have been burned into the surface of your fucking eyelids. To put it lightly, you've taken Starlight Glimmer's instructions very... very seriously. The last thing you want to do is fail her. And although she's insisted time and time again that the preparation—and the goal—are both incredibly safe, you still don't want to suffer any stumbles. For her sake.

Micro Equus Invocum—when spoken in the vicinity of the enchanted stones, these words cause the invoker to experience the magic contained within the reagents. In other words, beholding the ingredients given to you by Starlight and quoting the mantra allows you to undergo a temporary shrinking spell. Since the second “dinner date,” Starlight's started you out with small doses of magic—instructing you to go through with the spell-practice within the safety of your own seclusion. You've afforded this whenever you've been able to—waiting for your roommates to go to their jobs and make themselves scarce. It's not like they pay much mind to you wanting to be alone; they rarely give two shits about whatever it is you're doing anyways. You've been pretty much friendless until you met Starlight.

Anyways—the “homework” spells. All things considered, it's been a pretty fucking slow-burn in getting to a point where you and Starlight can do anything even vaguely moist. But you don't mind one bit. You're a nervous basket-case of a flight-born faerie, and there's something incredibly relaxing about Starlight taking things slow... hand-holding you until your limbs are too disproportionately mismatched to do anything but smother one with the other's palm. Dear Goddess, you get hard just thinking about it...

But, yes, the spells have been most... interesting, to say the least. The bare bones procedure was to strip of your clothes and squat on your bed before the stones before initiating the magic. The first experiment wasn't much to shake a stick at. In the privacy of your own tiny bedroom, you stammered the mantra: “Micro Equus Invocum!” But you didn't notice anything at first. The stones dimmed slightly and the room fluctuated with enchanted energy, but that was that. You didn't notice the ceiling growing further away or the curtained windows “enlarging” to your perspective. There was a brief flicker of fear in your heart that Starlight was pulling a prank on your naive ass.

And then you tried hopping down from the bed... and you fell. The carpet was a few feet further away than you remembered it. Stumbling back to your feet, you gasped to realize that you were... half the size than you previously were. Starlight's spell had essentially shrunken you to the size of a small child. A tiny heart thumped madly in a small chest, and you scampered towards the mirror in your room to inspect the reality of the moment. Your eyes were granted a brief snapshot of a frightened little doll treading across the floor—tender and previous and easy prey for all kinds of lurching, stomping, big-breasted carnivores. And then—just as you were starting to gasp—the spell ended, and you shot up like a rocket until you were once again your full height. True, you've always been a small young man, but for a brief and heavenly moment you were smaller... and you felt bad for having broken the rules by stumbling out of the bed before the ritual was over.

Like a guilty grade-schooler, you reported the matter to Starlight at the next date. She exploded in giggles and reached across the table to scoop you into a tight hug. Her face was beet-red for some reason, and she navigated a thin veil of sweat to wink at you, smile, and say, “You are going to be sooooooo much fun.”

Needless to say, you were shivering by the time you performed the next experiment. “Micro Equus Invocum!” This time, the stones shrank you to a fourth of your regular size. You crawled around—naked and numb—having witnessed the bed increase from a twin to a queen to a king in the space of a gasp. Your room resembled the hangar for a zeppelin, and the posters on your wall stretched like billboards. Also—for whatever reason—it felt as though your senses were growing more refined. The fabric softener of your pillow and blankets grew four times as intense, and—much to your chagrin—you could smell your roommates' dirty laundry from two rooms over.

Starlight had told you that—with each invocation of the spells—their effects would grow more and more intense. And it wasn't just a shrinking spell placed upon the stones, but a piece of the Collapsing Cabal's protection aura was slipped in as well—perhaps as a last-second precaution to protect you in case something stupid or crazy happened while you were in the middle of doing “homework.” But there had to have been something else to it as well... something that set your nerves on fire and made every tiny sensation a sudden, large, and overwhelming cornucopia of feeling. You also noticed that you... … ...stayed hard longer. Was there some aphrodisiac element to the spell? Or, perhaps, did blood circulate differently when you were smaller?

You couldn't help but... indulge more than a little bit in the whole matter. By the time you were doing your fourth spell, you had properly taped a series of magazine spreads all across the headboard of your bed. So, by the time the stones had shrunken you, your eyes lifted up to see enormous voluptuous pinups of Equestria's finest ladies—only now they stretched like glossy paper giantesses before you. Their eyes sultry. Their expressions hungry and ravenous.

You waddled across the plush duvet of your bedspread, bouncing as though you were on the moon. Shivering and breathless, your naked self gazed up at the harem of Amazons and you... simply fell back, limp and erect at the same time. You touched yourself in places you never before thought accessible, all the while staring at this veritable tsunami of estrogen bearing down on you. There were whimpers—moans even—but... you didn't come.

Halfway through the matter, your thoughts lingered on Starlight. And it occurred to you that these experiments were about more than just living out an erotic fantasy that was becoming more and more real with each excursion. Every waking thought of every day was practically drenched in the thought of her... of how sexy her body was... how gentle her touch felt... how warm her breaths were and how angelic her voice sounded. When you crossed the street to get to your latest employer, you were thinking about her violet eyes. When flying over the treetops of Everfree to snap photos of local wildlife, you thought of her giggling voice between rambling narrations of her life in Canterlot... and you smiled.

You smiled. This woman did more than just turn you on. She made you happy... and—cynicism aside—you can't truly recall a moment in your life when you could assuredly state that you've been “happy” before. And—with or without the promise of shattering your virginity—you nevertheless found yourself anticipating each visit and “dinner date” with this lovely goddess more and more.

It was almost as if—dare you say it—you've been falling in love with Starlight Glimmer.

Could you possibly be any stupider? This was all about a Classifieds ad that you had answered. An ad that Starlight had made when she was drunk. You were nothing more than a variable in an equation that she was solving—one that she had gone through the motions of before—with other partners far more experienced than you. So what if she was asking for a virgin? Yes, you're filling that role, but once it's been tasted—there won't be any of it left. And then what will become of you?

Starlight will move on. That's what. You will no longer be the special element in her niche fantasy, and she will not have any need of you.

And... you're okay with that, right? Surely you will have to be. Perhaps if you kept all of this as purely sexual, then you wouldn't be taking the prospect of a one-night's-stand as something so... harrowing. So soul-crushing. You just had to keep your dick in it. Nothing else.

Then why is it that you couldn't orgasm to the moment when you were in the throes of the experiment? Was Starlight a bigger thing than... bigger things? What if there was something you could do to preserve what you've been lucky enough to win so far? More and more opportunities just to listen to Starlight... to see her smile... to hear her laugh and feel her warm, loving fingers stroking your hand and shoulder like you belonged to her.

You belong to her. But will you forever?

A crazed, desperate thought thusly ripped through your young masculine mind: you have to give her a reason to keep you. Virgin or no-virgin, you gotta find a way to make this one-night-stand last forever.

And it became all the more pressing when she finally declared a date for the two of you. The date. It worked perfectly with your dual work schedules. You'd both have a break at the start of the month. You would go to her place in Canterlot. She would shrink you and then take you for a romantic, formal date at the secret meeting place for the Collapsing Cabal. Then—after socializing and meeting with her fellow fans of the microcosmic persuasion—you would be taken back to her place...

And you would be taken.

Forever, as it turns out, wasn't that far from now. You had to prepare, asshole.

So you assigned yourself a second string of “homework” to perform alongside her magical instructions. While you shrank yourself more and more—preparing for the ultimate transformation on that most magical night coming up—you went to the library and read every (and you do mean every) fucking book on sexuality, romantic self-help, female anatomy, social skills. You name it. If it was put to pen, you read it and committed it to memory.

You studied up on every conceivable body part of a woman. You read up on the “secrets” to good love-making in every men's magazine... women's magazine... teenage girl magazine... Barnyard Bargains catalogue. Anywhere and everywhere. You researched hard so that—just in case—if the final spell went wrong and you couldn't be reduced to the size of a toothpick, you could at least perform with one.

You did kegels. You went on jogs. You ate protein shakes, protein bars, protein cereal, protein soup. You watched a fuck-ton of retro Smash Fortune flicks. Anything you could do to immerse yourself in all things manly. You've even forsaken masturbation for two weeks straight—a miniature no-nut Neighvember, if you will—like a boxer preparing for a main event. For you indeed did have a “Main Event” coming up, and you had every intention to not be coming up prematurely once the moment struck. For Starlight's sake, if nobody else's.

And if maybe... just maybe you could impress her enough...

...then perhaps she won't be tired of you once you no longer qualify for that Classifieds ad. And you won't have to embrace forever alone.

And before you know it—between the mantras and the exercises and the nights spent lying in bed staring at the claustrophobic ceiling as your hormones did battle with your emotions—the first of the month finally arrives.

And here you are...

And here you stand... …

Alone at the Fillydelphia railroad station with a ticket in hand. You've left your apartment for a week's “vacation,” having told your roommates that you're “off to visit family in Ponyville.” Truth is, you're heading to another part of Equestria completely: Canterlot. It'll be your first time going there for a reason other than business. You would have flown, but Starlight insisted on buying you a ticket to get there via train. Perhaps she meant it as a nice gesture—to have you rest your wings and relax for your time spent arriving at her place. But part of you thinks she's being a cruel mistress for once by elongating the trip and forcing you to endure so many thoughts and misgivings along the way. She does like to tease you, after all.

Nevertheless, it is awfully generous of her to pay for your transportation. This is on top of the fact that she's paid for all of the magic stones that you utilized in preparing for ultimate shrinkage. So much has come out of her purse to make this weekend the most magical thing ever, and just what did you do to deserve any of it? And does she value you as much as she values the fantasy that you're about to perform for her?

In any case, the ticket is a load off your wallet. You don't exactly make the most money as a freelance photographer, and this “vacation” is something you can scarcely afford. Part of you gnaws your lip at the thought of just how you're going to pay your portion of the utility bill once you return from Canterlot. Odds are, your roommates will finally throw you out. Wouldn't be the first time you've been kicked out of house and home. But—if it means achieving the mother of all microsmic experiences—then it's more than worth it.

Doesn't help that you spent an extra fortune on... something on the side. You take a look into your messenger bag and you see it—the rectangular velvet box nestled safely among your other packed-things. It's small enough to fit snugly between the digits of two fingers. You made sure it didn't resemble a ring case; no point in giving Starlight the wrong idea. Nevertheless, it's a special thing you had commissioned over the past few weeks, swallowing up the bulk of your earnings over the last month. Will Starlight like it? There's no telling yes or no, but you're Tartarus-bent on showing her how much she's meant to you lately.

She's made you happy. Even if this whole excursion is a bust, you must somehow return the favor.

You zip your messenger bag shut, take a deep breath, and step onto the train as it carries off to Canterlot.