Author's Note

I really, truly owe this "smut" to the works and wisdom of shallow15, a like-minded lemur whose fanfics and kind words helped inspire me to create this exercise in femme!sissery. A conversation began about "pr0n logic," in which I bemoaned my tendency to ruin an erotic story's potential with offensive layers of exposition and world-building. Shallow15 reminded me that sometimes you gotta work your way from the inside out: from the saucy parts to the portions that make sense... even if there are no portions that "make sense."

Meditating on this, my brain went somewhere *meta*. I replaced "pr0n" with "panty" and came up with "panty logic." If that doesn't make sense, that's fine. The too-long-didn't-read of it is that I threw caution to the wind and just dove into the fluffy pink heart of what I wanted to write. This is the result of such with a prologue added just for safety's sake; it'll make sense when (or if) you read it. It may not seem like much, but this fic counts as "reaching" for the likes of mesa. I'm glad I got it out of my brain bone, in any case, because it potentially paves the way to future exercises of smut for me to craft ~~and have habitually downvoted~~.

Shallow15 was kind enough to proofread this and add further thoughts. So was Syntakitty, another awesomesaucer whose delightful conversations have done a good number for my sanity as of late.

This is for the two of you.

As for the rest of y'all... suffer. Or think magic thoughts and fly with Flashie. Whatever.

Final Note: This story has the "Non-Con" tag because the character--while agreeing towards a smexy situation long before it actually transpires--is mostly experience the smuttiness while in an amnesiac fugue state. There's this vague sense of mind control and a glaring loss of agency, along with sissy humiliation and the use of trigger words to elicit a response from the main character. But--in the end--the protagonist is experiencing a fantasy that he truly, unabashedly longs for. With potential future hijinks to come(tm).

Clap your hands.
-SS&E

Prologue for the Asking

The first three times Flash tried dialing the number, his finger slipped on the phone's screen. So he paused, his digits lingering just above the app on the mobile's glossy face. Even in the dim light of the dying afternoon, he could make out the callouses—brought on by years of plucking guitar strings. So many songs—so few stages. Now he had ugly hands. Large ones at that.

Some young men might find such a charming trait to possess—either they or their significant others. But not for Flash. They were too big: his hands, among other things. That, or the world had grown too tiny. There wasn't enough room for him to twirl in, much less the smiles to support it. His smile, included: a very rare thing. Lost—like the minutes he was wasting just standing there, gazing at his ghostly face in the mobile's reflective screen... wishing he could shut that off as well.

Flash then remembered who he was trying to call, and a hopeful flicker in his heart chased a bulk of the gloom away. After a bittersweet breath, the twenty-two year old calmed himself long enough to dial the number completely. He paced around the shadowed interior of a cheap motel bedroom. A lone bag of things rested on the neatly-made bed, along with a guitar case. Outside, it was raining—with watery streaks rippling down the windows and casting a kaleidoscopic dance across the monochromatic room.

A cold rush of white noise cocooned him as he paced and paced. The number dialed. Dialed. Dialed.

Flash clenched his eyes shut. He held his breath.

At last...

Click.

A voice picked up on the other line.

“Hello? Flash?”

A feminine voice.

Her voice.

Flash's breath left him and his knees went weak. He steadied himself by leaning against the window frame, staring out at the gray rain and mist—imagining it lighting up with the golden bands of her heavenly tone.

“H-hey there...” He said, immediately wincing at how goofy and plebeian he sounded. Like a peasant picking his nose before a queen. “I... uhm...”

“Flash! It's so wonderful to hear from you, sweetie! You must be off the train if you've finally gotten a signal!”

He gulped. Hard. “Y-yeah. I'm... uh... I'm in town, now.”

"Oh yeah? Where in town?"

“Huh? Oh... j-just... uh...” His fingers rapped against the window frame as he stared out at everything and nothing. “...just some hotel I found. Super affordable. Should be good for the night.”

“Awwwwwww. Flash, sweetie, you know that you didn't have to pay for a place to stay this evening!”

“Yeah. I-I guess you're right. Still... it'll... uh... it'll be my last time for a while...”

The voice on the end paused slightly. “... … ...all right?”

He cracked a dumb smile, sweating slightly. “How are you?”

Another pause. “I'm doing just wonderfully, sweetie.” The voice rang, sweet and harmonic, with an underlying kiss of concern. “How are you?”

“Hmmm? Oh, me? I'm fine. Just fine.” Flash bit his lip. Bit harder. Then—“Nervous.” He swiped his brow. “Actually... really nervous,” he wheezed.

“Eheh... well, if it helps you at all to know... I... I-I'm getting butterflies in my stomach too. I mean... we both know that things will be... very very different for a while.”

“Yeah.”

“It's a bit overwhelming that... that it all can become so real. I mean... everything we planned. Everything we've talked about. It's just two days away, now, Flash! Isn't that exciting!”

“Yeah...” Flash shuffled over to the middle of the room, slumping down on the edge of the bed. “Just...” He leaned over, rubbing his brow heavily with a free hand. “...exciting.”

The line was dead for a bit.

Her voice returned, as sweet and loving as could be: “Flash... you know it's not too late to back out.”

He gnashed his teeth. “I don't want to back out!”

“Are you sure? We all know how much this is going to... g-going to take from you.”

“Well, it won't be quite so easy for you two, either.”

The phone line filled with her laughter. To a stranger, it might seem callous. Instead, it only made Flash smile.

“Oh Flash, sweetie... the only way this is going to work is if it's waaaaaaay easier for us than it'll ever be for you.” A soft breath. “But you know that by now, don't you?”

“Yes... I know...”

“And you also know... that we both love you. Very... very much.” The emotion in her voice lingered upon a fragile precipice, and for the first time her tone came across as shaky and even scared. “What you've been willing to do for us—and for the girls—well... it means the world to everyone, Flash.”

When he next spoke, it was in a low tone—albeit with steel-hardened assurance. “It means an awful lot to me too.” The twenty-two year old man stared a million miles into the cheap hotel carpet beneath him. “More than I can ever say.”

“I believe you, precious. I just want to make sure that you're completely on board with this—that we're not forcing you.”

“And what if I wanted you to f-force me?” he stammered, throat dry.

“Now Flash...” she chided in a motherly tone, sending his heart sinking and fluttering all at once. “...we've been over this. We want this to happen just as much as you do—but we have to play it safe. Safety first is important. You understand, don't you? There'll be a time for being fancy and carefree but we have to save it for after we've fully committed to the spell—”

“I know I know I know.” He flinched, wincing as his body shrank inward. “It's just...” His voice heightened slightly, taking on a somewhat whiny tone. “I-I want it to be tomorrow already. I'm so... friggin' tired of waiting. So tired of feeling anxious. So tired of being... being...” He glanced at his hand, clenching the fingers tight so he couldn't look at the callouses anymore. “...what I-I've gotten used to.”

“Have you spoken to the girls since you got off the train?” she suddenly asked.

That seemed to snap Flash out of his funk. “Oh... uhm...” He sniffled, blinking his moistening eyes dry. “Yeah. The first moment I arrived at the station. They gave me the address to the Lake Manor you just built—what, with the scaled furniture and the secret lab and stuff.” He swallowed a lump down his throat. “I'm sorry. I... I-I should have called you first. I-I didn't mean to m-make you wait, I swear.”

The voice on the line giggled. “Flaaaa-aaa-aaash... it's okay! Sweetie, I'm not insulted or nothing. Do you understand? I'm not mad. I promise.”

“Okay...” Flash was breathing heavily now. He scooted backwards until he was seated in the center of the bed, swallowed up by its neatly-folded mattress. “Okay okay okay...” He nevertheless rubbed his scalp with a shaking hand.

“Listen to me, Flash. Everything is going to be alright. No matter what happens—no matter how you feel or what you decide—it's going to be alright. I love you. We love you... and one way or another you're going to absolutely relish these next few days ahead. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah...” He nodded, clenching his eyes shut before tears could form. “Y-yeah...”

“This is the first time they'll be casting the spell on a vessel like you. It'll... probably not last for too terribly long.”

“In which case...” He spoke with his eyes shut. A slight fidget. “...I'll turn back.”

“Yes. And—that could be an early out, if you want it.”

He had no response to that.

She continued: “If the experience turns out to be utterly unbearable, we don't have to re-cast the spell to make it last even longer. You'll still be a welcome guest at the Lake Manor. Or at our home in Canterlot—”

“I want to go through with it,” he said in finality. A gulp. “It's what I've been dreaming about all year.” His eyes reopened, wet with tears. “All my... l-life...”

“I want us to be a part of your dream coming true, Flash.” He was certain he could hear her smile through the phone. “And I thank you know how much the two of us have been waiting for someone like you to come this way... and make our dream come true.”

“Yeah...” He shuddered, a weak smile starting to form once again.

“You're such a precious... precious person, Flash. If anything—this spell will only be bringing your sweetness to the surface.”

“Uh huh...” He rubbed his eyes dry. “And what about you and the girls?” he mused.

“Pffft! That you would ask such a thing! I'm pretty sure we've all felt BIG inside!”

Flash was used to laughing. Giggling was another matter. He hugged his knees to his chest as he emptied his lungs of pent-up chortles. He suddenly felt tiny and fragile in the center of the bed. It felt like her voice would catch him if he was silly enough to fall off the edge. His smile slowly increased in time.

“I've started a few trials, y'know,” she said. “It's a darn good thing I invested in that fancy new wardrobe. I'll sure need them!”

Flash exhaled. “You could... I dunno... borrow some of Sunset's or Twilight's clothes. They've been practicing the spell on themselves longer.”

“Oh, you would like that, would you?”

The twenty-two year old blushed furiously, squirming on the bed. “I... uhm... I-I didn't mean that... uhm...”

Again, more of that delicious laughter. “Ohhhhhhhhh Flash, sweetie... I'm only teasing...”

He giggled again, flopping over until he was lying curled up on the bed—along with his smiles.

“Honestly, you're going to have to get used to that.” She took a long, happy breath across the line. “It'll be much simpler to pretend that you won't have a choice..”

All of Flash's insides spasmed with a twinge of anticipation.

“But—of course—you do have one now. Don't forget this is all up to you—”

“I'm willing to go through with the spell,” Flash said firmly.

He heard her contemplative breath on the other end.

“I just... needed to hear your voice one last time,” he stammered. A gulp. “That's the one thing that sucks about this: knowing I won't be able to see or talk to you for a while once the transformation begins.”

“About twenty hours,” she said, her voice also melancholic. “That's what Sunset and Twilight say, at least.”

“Yeah...” He sighed.

“I think I'll spend the time shopping!”

“Shopping?” Flash chuckled. “Shopping for who?”

Her voice rolled like a Queen's: “Who do you thiiiiiink?”

Flash blushed heavily. “Oh...” His nostrils flared, and he wiped condensation off the phone screen, careful to not accidentally close the call too son. “...yes, well... I-I'm really frickin' lucky.”

She giggled. “Considering what you'll likely be doing for the two of us, I'd say the shoe's on the other foot.”

He stifled the urge to whimper.

Her voice took on a slightly more serious tone. “Did Sunset explain to you what the first few hours after awakening will be like?”

“Yeah...” Flash looked up at the ceiling. “Once a 'vessel,' I'll be... a blank slate.”

“Not a completely blank slate, sweetie...”

“But enough to really make sense of how I got to be... the way I-I'll be.” He swallowed. “It's be super ultra mega confusing.”

“And are you okay with that, Sweetie?”

“As... I-I've told you and the girls before...” Flash felt goosebumps spreading over his body. “...I-I'm kinda looking forward to it.”

“Heh. You're right. And it's a good thing too—because Sunset and the others are very much okay with it as well.”

He blinked. Hard. “...how much have you told them?”

“As much as they need to know.”

His throat went dry. “So... everything.”

She giggled. “The only way to do this is the right way, sweetie.”

He nodded, his smile returning. Softly. “It's... gonna be bonkers... absolutely bonkers...”

“A good bonkers, I hope.”

He squirmed, nodding to the dim air of the hotel room. “Can't lie. It's always been my deep... deep fantasy to experience something like that so... h-helplessly.”

“I almost wish I could be there for when you awake.”

“But... my memories will only take about a day to fully come back, right?” Flash raised an eyebrow. “If nothing else, I can fill you in.”

“Mmmm. Yes. While we 'fill' you in.”

Flash wheezed breathily—at a much higher volume and pitch than he would have preferred.

Judging from her laughter, she heard it clearly—and was already reveling in the fact. “Oh heaven help me... this is going to be sooooooo much fun.” She purred: “It's perfectly natural to be nervous about it at the last second, honey.”

“Yeah...” He chuckled. “Y-yeah...” His smile widened, and a tear trickled down his warm cheek as he murmured: “I love you.”

“I love you. So much. More than you will ever know.”

“Mmmmm...” Flash curled up again, cradling the phone like it was the world's last candle. “...I wish you knew how much you mean to me... how much all of this means to me...”

“You'll get your chance to show me. To show both of us.” The sound of a woman's lips blowing a kiss. “See you on the other side, my little princess.”

Flash squeaked. “I'll be seeing you... 'M-Mommy...'”

A soft sigh. Heavenly and pleaseed.

And then she hung up.

In the absence of her voice, Flash felt immediately drenched in cold shadows. He sniffled, tempted to close his eyes, when he saw a text message had been sent to him in the background of the app while the two of them had been chatting.

Curious, he opened it up with a tap of his guitar thumb.

It was a message from Sunset Shimmer—actually two messages.

The first was an image: an overtly-sparkly .gif of Disney Princess clipart, bedazzled with jewels and sparkles. It was boringly generic and super-commercialized and insultingly patronizing. Flash loved it.

The second was a text from Sunset herself:

Just two days left! We all look forward to playing with you soon, Princess Flashie!

Flash blinked. Flash snorted. Flash cradled the phone to his chest and giggled incessantly.

Once the wave of silliness had run its course, he lay still with his chest buzzing. The nervousness was still there, but hearing from everyone that mattered to the young man made the gray malaise encroaching from the outer world melt away.

Only two days.

Two days, and his life would be changed forever.

Calmly, Flash closed his eyes. Dwelling on her voice. Imagining her arms.

A happily ever after.