To Do List

Big Mac spent his infinitely stretched nanosecond, cramming his mouth with sweets and fucking everything with a vagina. In all of existence, there was no purpose but his own pleasure. He could only find meaning in an endless chain of self induced orgasms and dopamine rushes from chocolate or substances. He found, what passed for, enjoyment in proving his own virility to himself and indulging in excess. He’d become rounder and his brain was only ever occupied with self indulgent carnal and gluttonous fantasies over anything constructive.

He wished he liked reading. He tried reading at Twilight Sparkle's house. He even tried reading while humping Twilight Sparkle but it was just as tedious as it ever was.

He hadn’t gone home in quite a while, nor had he ventured beyond the outskirts of Ponyville. Out there were many new, strange orifices to penetrate. A new frontier he'd explore when he got around to it. One day he’d finally make it to Canterlot and fuck an alicorn even if he needed to stand on a step stool to do it. One day…

He didn’t know for sure but he estimated that he’d conjugated with near 80% of the females in town. He had his favorites, some of them he’d rutted dozens of times. He didn’t mind sloppy seconds with himself. In fact he preferred it. No prep work required. One successful rutting and a mare was always good to go any time after.

He had his goals and future conquests. He had yet to locate Rainbow Dash and he hadn’t hiked out to Zecora's hut. He’d heard tales about zebras in bed but had his suspicions that they were really just like ponies in that regard, especially when they didn't move. But he should definitely find out for himself.

Big Mac finished inside Trixie again. Her marehood was so packed with his seed from so many sessions that it squeezed out every time he entered her, spreading out, sticking the two of them together as he pounded her. The fur of her backside from flank to hoof was plastered with jizz. It was about time to clean her up again.

He sighed, stroking her braided mane. He'd braided her tail too. The Audience were dressed in dacadant masquerade ball garb that he'd absconded with from Rarity's boutique after he'd fucked her on her four-poster bed. They were followers of the Mystic Orifice, come to witness their ritual, all anonymous behind their masks. He’d put a crescent moon mask over Trixie’s face while he wore the sun.

He went to bed spooning Vinyl Scratch in her bed. She had been lazily sleeping there in the afternoon when time stopped. To put a foreleg over her and drift off to sleep was the most natural and intimate interaction with another pony there was to have anymore. Thus it was his favorite place to sleep.

Twist was unbelievably deep. It didn’t seem physically possible but his cock had completely disappeared inside her. He had her rear bouncing on his balls and he still couldn’t find the end of her tunnel. Until Twist, not one of the filles had accommodated all of him.

Big Mac grunted through the doughnut in his mouth as he climaxed into her. That was it. He’d inseminated every filly in the schoolhouse, some multiple times, some in both ends but he’d sampled them all, save for one of course who he hadn’t touched. Her friends however, he tried at the same time. Thanks to some creative use of Miss Cheerilee's desk, he was able to fuck Sweetie Belle while eating out Scootaloo.
Big Mac inhaled the rest of his doughnut and placed Twist back on her little bench, patting her on the head. Then he took a couple of mystery pills with a swig of ale and stared blankly through the chalkboard.

How long had he been trapped like this now? A year? Five years? The only chronometer in existence was the slow deterioration of his own body. There was no debating, he was out of shape. He’d eaten everything in Sugarcube Corner, cleared out many a pony’s icebox and was well on his way to finishing off the grocery store. For drinking, water faucets never worked but water pumps did at least. He was taking prescription pills, most of which he had no idea what they'd do. He just hoped whatever they did felt good but he'd already blown through all of Vinyl's party drug collection which was the best stuff. Eventually he would have to leave Ponyville for greener pastures.

He thought about all the semen he'd expelled over his stay. It was incredible. He'd made all of it himself and not a drop had vanished. It was all still there, caked on mares and lubricating their insides to assist him in expelling even more. Though his balls and prostate were as empty as they could be at all times, the speed at which his tanks refilled was podigious.

He finally found Rainbow Dash. She was sleeping on a cloud high above Ponyville. That was one he'd never get. It would be nice to have her but he didn't want to put in the effort to build some sort of climbable structure even though once upon a time, that was his life.

Big Mac listlessly licked the remaining whipped cream off of Nurse Red Heart's clit. Then he got in position to bang her on the hospital bed. He hesitated, staring into her unfocused eyes. Then he sighed and just laid down next to her. He had a raging hardon and he didn't feel like doing anything about it. He didn't feel like doing anything. Joy was illusive. What he thought was joy was really just a comforting ritual, a distraction from the loneliness and the maddening eternal silence in a hollow parody world.

Though even if the universe were to go back to normal, his brain probably couldn’t go back to normal. He now viewed everypony as things and everything as his. The only things he had to compromise for were his own will and physical limitations. Navigating through a world with ponies with other conflicting agendas seemed so alien and daunting now even though he could still remember that it was also somehow… nice.

Big Mac hurled up the last of the birthday sheet cake he'd had for breakfast in an amber-colored pile in the middle of the street. He stayed hunched over, panting and spitting to expel the bitter taste from his mouth. He'd tried to mount a nearby stallion just before he was beset with an upset stomach and had to abort.

While he still wasn't sure about doing a stallion, he was mostly sure his adverse reaction was due to the two bottles of liquor he'd killed just prior and not repulsion at the thought. After all, he'd done many things now that he never even would have dreamed about doing, some of them surprisingly enjoyable, though now mostly blasé and routine. He'd give the guy another try after he recovered from the alcohol poisoning. He had to keep pushing his boundaries to find something that sparked in the darkness, otherwise he was just numb.