Lyra Heartstrings peeked past the threshold that led to the basement of her house, took a deep breath, and, with a voice that shook the nearby framed pictures, bellowed. “Anon! Get your hairless monkey ass up here! You got company!” Her ears remained on the alert for any response on his part, only to receive none.

With a sigh, she turned back to face her bemused visitor.

“Sorry for that. He’s... kind of a heavy sleeper.” She chanced another look inside the basement. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” She promptly descended the stairs, her horn emitting a bright yellow glow to illuminate the way, navigating past empty pizza boxes, random bits of discarded clothing and two small mountains of crumpled-up parchment.

Her target lay atop two beds joined together to accommodate his tall frame, snoring away without a care in the world. Lyra propped herself up on her hind legs, using her forehooves to shake the sleeping human. “Up. Up, monkey!”

When he, predictably enough, didn’t react, Lyra shook her head and hopped up onto the double bed, then turned around and bucked the sleeping Anon with enough force to send him crashing down onto the hard floor.

“Anon? Are you dead?” Lyra said, poking him with a hoof. “Come on, you’re not fooling anypony.”

Moving faster than she could react, two lanky arms wrapped around her barrel. With a yelp, Lyra was dragged down to the human’s embrace.

“Hey!” Lyra squealed as she squirmed in his grasp. His hand reached up to tousle her mane. “Anon!” she whined, slapping the offending limb away. “I just brushed my mane.” He gave a non-committal grunt. “Are you gonna let me go now?”

“Prob’ly not,” he slurred. “All you ponies are so damn cuddly.” He accentuated this by tousling her hair again and hugged her tighter to his chest.

Lyra groaned, half in exasperation, half in contentment. She called on her magic to produce a bright flash of light, almost blinding in the dark room. Anonymous hissed in pain, freeing her to cover his eyes.

“C’mon, up,” Lyra said again, nudging him with her muzzle. “There’s somepony waiting for you.”

“At this hour? Give ‘em the boot. I don’t do walk-ins.”

“It’s almost noon,” she said dryly. “And it’s not just anypony. It’s your boss.”

To her satisfaction, Anon opened his eyes proper, squinting with suspicion. “Here? Now?”

“Yup.”

“You’re lying.”

“Possibly,” Lyra said smoothly. “But do you really want to take that chance?” Without another word and with a jaunty canter, she made for the stairs. “Hurry up. It’s rude to keep a guest waiting. And clean up your room! It’s like a pigsty in here.”

Anonymous sighed and, casting a longing glance at his bed, lightly slapped himself to ward off the remnants of sleep. He stood and fumbled around for a relatively clean shirt and a pair of shorts. He then passed a hand through his hair a number of times in the hopes it might look a tad presentable, cracked his neck and successively trudged up the stairs.

He squinted, blinking repeatedly as his eyes adjusted to the natural light that shone past the windows and sure enough, there he saw him—a white coated unicorn stallion in a dapper suit, unphased by the human’s shabby state, and regarding him with a pleasant smile.

“Anonymous!” he said in a distinct Canterlot accent. “Jolly good to see you, old boy. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time?”

“Fancypants?” Anon said slowly. “I... no, um...” He scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “What are you doing here?”

“Business I’m afraid. You know how it is. Ah, I do apologize for barging in on you so suddenly. It’s not usually the way I’d like to conduct a meeting, but I’m supposed to be taking the train to Las Pegasus and I thought I might drop in. There’s been a development, you see. Well, more of a sudden opportunity and... well, I believe it best we get it sorted out as soon as possible. I hope that’s alright with you?”

“Sure. Yeah,” Anon said. Before either could proceed, a series of hoofsteps marked Lyra’s arrival. Her mane once again styled to satisfaction, she used her magic to retrieve a slab of toast with butter and jam from the kitchen, where it hovered beside her.

“I’m going out shopping,” she said to Anon. “There’s coffee and donuts in the kitchen, so help yourselves.” She nodded to Fancypants. “It was nice meeting you. Hope everything goes well.”

Fancypants inclined his head. “And to you, dear. Thank you for the hospitality.”

With her departure, Anon led the way to the modest kitchen. “Coffee?” he asked.

“That would be lovely,” Fancypants said as he took a seat at the cozy round table. Anon poured a cup for each of them, setting down a small pitcher of cream and some sugar.

Fancypants served himself a generous portion of each and took a sip. “So,” he said. “First order of business. I have a little something for you.” From his suit levitated a folded strip of paper, which he passed to Anonymous.

He unfolded it and Fancypants watched as Anon’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead. “A check?”

“Indeed.”

“But, Fancypants.” He held it up. “I already got paid.”

“I know. That, dear boy, is a bonus.”

Anon glanced at the amount. “It’s a lot of money.”

“Honest pay for honest work, that’s what I say, so trust me when I tell you this, Anonymous. You have earned every single bit of that money.”

Anon couldn’t help but smile. “I take it my work did pretty well, then? Still, you didn’t have to come all the way out here for that.”

“Normally, yes,” Fancypants admitted. “But you see, dear boy, my publishers were quite impressed with your work. And our audience? They can’t get enough of it! Issues have been flying off the shelves so fast, it’s all we can do to keep up with demand! Our machines and equipment have been burning the midnight oil, or so I’m told, running day and night just to keep our shelves stocked.”

“That’s great news,” Anon said.

“Quite,” Fancypants agreed. “But herein lies the rub. My associates and I are happy enough to keep you working and making us all a pretty bit as is, but...” He gave Anon a measured look. “Well, it’s about to be that time of year again.”

“That time?” Anon parroted.

“Yes. Well,” Fancypants cleared his throat. “Heat Season, to be precise.”

“Oh.”

“You’ve been around a while now. I... assume you know what to expect?”

Anonymous shrugged. “I know the broad strokes, but...” he coughed. “I haven’t really looked into... you know.” He made a vague gesture. “The whole thing. All the details.”

“Yes, well. The fairer sex does tend to get quite, ah, amorous during this time. What you may not know is that Heat Season also brings a huge demand for a certain genre of literature.”

“By certain, you mean—”

“Erotica.”

“Ah.” Slowly, Anonymous sampled his drink. It needed cream. “So,” he said, pouring a measured amount. “I take it you came here to see if you could convince me to draw...” He took a sip. Much better. “Pony Porn?”

“To that effect,” Fancypants said without missing a beat. From his suit levitated yet another folded check, landing in the hands of Anonymous. He gulped upon seeing the number. “Call it an investment,” said Fancypants. “Yours to keep no matter your decision. Of course, I do hope it goes some way to showing you how profitable this venture could be. For all parties involved.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Then let us talk again,” Fancypants said brightly. Anon remained unmoved. “Come now, Anonymous. You’ve been living among us for a while now. I can understand why you’ve had reservations in the past regarding this sort of thing. Different species and all that. But you’ve broken out of your shell. You’ve made friends. That lovely miss Heartstrings seems to hold you in high regard, and I can only assume you’ve... assimilated, for lack of a better word.”

“You could say that, yeah,” Anon said slowly.

“Any, ah... romantic interests? Have you begun to see our lovely mares in a new light.”

Anonymous drained his coffee. “I admit, plenty of mares are easy on the eyes.”

“Is there a lucky lady you’ve had your eye on?”

Anonymous rolled his eyes. “Let me stop you right there. I really don’t think your average pony wants to get involved with a big, hairless alien like me.”

“And that’s where you’re wrong,” Fancypants declared. “I know for a fact that young lady at my front desk... what’s her name again?”

“Sky Splitter.”

“That’s the one! She’s rather taken with you, you know? Were you to ask her out for a spot of tea, I’m sure she’d be happy to oblige.”

“Pity then, we don’t even live in the same city.”

Fancypants waved a hoof. “The point stands. You have options here, my boy. Should you take a chance, I’m sure you could meet a lovely mare to call your special somepony. Or stallion, if that’s more your speed.”

“First off, I like wom—er, girls. And second of all,” he narrowed his eyes. “Why does it matter to you anyway?”

“Am I not allowed to care about a friend’s love life? Or lack thereof?” Fancypants asked innocently. “I am happily married, Anonymous. I won’t pretend it doesn’t have its challenges, but life is so much the richer with somepony by your side. Is that not something you’d like for yourself?”

Anonymous’ eyes were fixed on his cup. He shrugged.

“Just something to think about, then,” Fancypants said. “But back to business. We are prepared to offer you a generous deal, if I do say so myself.” Sweat began to form on Anon’s brow as he watched Fancypants produce yet another check.

“Now this one,” Fancypants said. “Is not real, I’m afraid. Call it a visual aid. The number on it, however, is what we are ready to offer should you accept. And that’s before royalties, I might add.” He watched as Anonymous wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Do you still plan to go through with your ambitions, dear boy?” At Anon’s questioning look, Fancypants elaborated. “The house, Anon. The house you wanted to build for yourself.”

“Well, yes,” Anon said. “Not that I don’t like mooching off Lyra and Bonnie, but pony houses aren’t built with humans in mind.”

“I would think not,” Fancypants said gravely. “But a custom job? Custom furniture? On a major city at that? I assume you still plan to move from Ponyville should your plans bear fruit?” Anon nodded. “Then you’ll need a sizable investment fund.” He reached out with a hoof and tapped the check which lay flat on the table. “This is opportunity knocking, lad. Your... what is that phrase you used? Ah, your golden ticket! Wouldn’t you say that’s worth trying something new?”

“Fancypants,” Anon groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not just... look, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I haven’t even... been with a pony. I don’t know how to draw your parts. I don’t know how to sketch or visualize pony porn! O-Or what kinds of positions you guys use. Or your tells, your mannerisms. Your body language during sex.”

“All the more reason then,” Fancypants said, smiling. “Why you should go out there and get some hooves-on experience.” He drained the last of his coffee and out his pocket levitated a golden pocket watch. He regarded it for a moment. “Well then! I’ve said my piece and I really shouldn’t take up more of your time. It is money, after all. Tell you what, why don’t you take some time and ruminate on my offer? Think it over. See what it is you really want. You know how to reach me and I’ll expect an answer in two days at the most.

“Now it should be said there is a certain time frame for this project, should you choose to take it. Heat Season is not too far off. My publishers will need a finished work before then—something fully realized and ready to print in... shall we say a month from now? I know it’s a bit of a time crunch, but I do believe a talented go-getter like you should make short work of this project."

Fancypants bid his goodbye and left, leaving Anonymous to ponder his offer. He couldn't deny it was tempting. Very tempting.

He'd made his peace and accepted Equestria as his home, which left him with a bit of a conundrum. What would he do now? He went to college in the hopes of working with computers. AI robotics. Skills that were all but useless now. Four wasted years and thousands of dollars in student loans were a bitter pill to swallow.

If nothing else, he wished to be able to carve out a life for himself. Self-sufficiency. Sure, Lyra had been nothing but welcoming and even Bonnie too warmed up to him after some time. Still, he was pretty sure neither of them envisioned housing an interdimensional refugee in their life plans, and though he'd forever be grateful to them opening their home to him, the prospect of having a home to himself and taking control of his life was not something he could dismiss out of hand.

That said, it all came down to money. The windfall from Fancypants' commission would go a long way toward his dream. Perhaps even enough to set Anon's very own plans into motion. And all he had to do was...

*CRASH*

"Sonuva..."

So lost in his thoughts, the mug slipped from his hand just as he was making for the sink. After cleaning up the mess, he picked up Fancypants' cup and was in the process of washing it when something caught his eye. From a nearby window he could see Berry Punch trot in the opposite direction, her flank lightly swaying this way and that, the taut muscles in her legs rippling with her movements. Were he to lean out the window and adjust himself at the right angle, he could surely see the delicate prize hidden beneath her...

Anonymous shook his head and splashed cold water on his face, hoping to ward off the creeping heat that threatened to rise up. He couldn't deny it at this point. Pony mares were fucking hot. At least his brain seemed to think so. They'd certainly been popping up more and more in his dreams, especially the ones that left a sticky mess after.

And if he were interested, how would he even go about it? He couldn't just go out and ask a random mare to follow him back to his bedroom. Well, he could, but it would probably earn him a buck to the nuts. No, no. For this to work, he would need to do his due diligence. He would need to brush up on the laws of attraction. The tells ponies gave when showing interest. Perhaps a smutty novel or two to see what mares like.

Nodding to himself, Anonymous knew what he must do. And so he took a shower, brushed his teeth and, after retrieving a package for a certain alicorn princess, made his way to the library. For research!

Held in her magical grip, the riding crop listed lazily across the surface of a chalkboard on wheels. Six peculiar shapes were drawn upon its surface—bulbous at the bottom, tapering into a long, tubular shape as it ascended before terminating in a flat top. One purple, one white. Yellow. Orange. Pink. Cyan. Presumably representing each of the bearers of the elements.

“If I could direct your attention to these visual aids,” Twilight said. “You’ll notice the percentage numbers next to them.” Such numbers came in four ascending increments. 25. 50. 75. 100. “We will be using them to measure each of our individual progress during Operation: Heatsink and...” she trailed off, not being able to put off the girls’ stares any longer. “Yes?” she asked grudgingly.

“Twi,” Applejack said dryly. “That’s still a riding crop.”

“Couldn’t you, you know,” Rainbow said. “Use something less kinky. More egghead-y?”

“First off, that’s not even a word,” Twilight said. “And secondly, no.”

“Not even a ruler?” Rarity asked.

Twilight looked away. “I’ve kind of, uhh, worn them out.”

Truth be told, the studious princess did indeed have a tool for the job. Or at least, she used to. Ol’ Faithful had been a gift to herself, purchased shortly after her first estrus cycle. Carved from girthy Zebrican ironwood, Ol’ Faithful served as the young pony’s unsung companion for the better part of her adolescent years. A pointer stick polished to perfection, the color of dark mahogany, Ol’ Faithful performed admirably during her many mock lectures to an invisible audience, as well as a nightly companion during the many, many... many lonely nights the young Twilight found herself aching for a stallion’s touch.

Alas, during a particularly vigorous session tending to his mistress, Ol’ Faithful gave his last, leaving naught behind save a number of painful splinters and an extremely unsatisfied Twilight. His shattered remains now lay within a modest chest strategically hidden beneath a loose floorboard under the princess’ bed, along with the real Smarty Pants, her foalhood diary and other such items of sentimental value accrued through the years.

With his passing, Twilight was then forced to turn to the hooffull of rulers and other such phallic instruments of academia she had lying around in order to sate her needs. But to her dismay and frustration, none of them could hope to match Ol’ Faithful’s performance, nor his fortitude—snapping or crumpling under her ministrations within one or two sessions... sometimes less, leaving her little choice but to use Rarity’s birthday gift for her presentation.

Of course, there was also Neighl deGrasse Hayson, her prized telescope, though even Twilight knew better than to use him to satisfy her needs. For one, he was a bit unwieldy. And expensive. She’d saved up two birthdays’ worth of bits to even be able to afford him at a specialty shop in Canterlot, and her rough, magical marehandling would no doubt damage his internal components. Then again, she was a princess now. Perhaps Celestia would be willing to open up the royal coffers a smidge, just enough to buy a smaller model? Or better yet, a replacement for Ol’ Faithful himself?

Yes...

She’d been crushed to learn the business that sold her Ol’ Faithful had been bought out by none other than Donut Joe. Apparently the scruffy stallion learnt that charging exorbitant prices for mid-tier coffee at best somehow attracted the stuffy Canterlotians to his store, lining up in droves even at the break of dawn to indulge their caffeine dependency.

With a newfound hunger and a rebranding of his stores, Joe expanded ruthlessly, successively breaking ground even in the cutthroat Cloud District where he’d swallowed up the very same store that Twilight hoped to pay a visit to replace her fallen companion. In fact, Twilight had received a letter from Donut Joe not that long ago, presenting her with quite a strange offer.

He wanted to set up a StarJoe’s location next to, or better yet (his words) inside the library itself, that it may serve as a bizarre sort of place where one could read and sip coffee at their leisure. She’d shot him down immediately, of course. All those sweet, sticky donuts and blended coffees next to her beloved books? It was a disaster waiting to happen and she would never allow hallowed ground to be tainted in such a manner.

Then again, he did offer her a generous cut of his earnings. Enough to, say, commission the master craftsbulls from the minotaur tribes to carve a replacement for Ol’ Faithful? It could be made even better, in fact. Hidden within the chest that now housed Ol’ Faithful’s remains, Twilight kept detailed notes—the data gathered through many a night inside the sheets—on the optimal dimensions (length, thickness and girth) the replacement would need to bring her to orgasmic nirvana. Zebrican ironwood, while sturdy and serviceable, clearly did not suit her needs. Taurean adamantwood, on the other hoof...

“Helloooo! Equestria to Twilight?”

“Huh? What?” Twilight jerked from her musings to see a pink hoof waving before her.

“You still with us, hun?” asked Applejack.

Clearing her throat, Twilight said, “Y-yes. Yes! Uh...” She glanced back to the chalkboard, then to the riding crop still held in her magical aura. “I understand this is highly irregular. Just... bear with me for now.” Her friends’ attention returned to the chalkboard. “Now I understand this operation has quite a few moving parts—those parts being us. We can then use these visual aids to get a sense of our individual progress in getting close to our target. For example...”

An orange piece of chalk was levitated to its corresponding aid. The sound of it scratching upon the board filled the room as the aid was filled from the bottom-up, stopping at the 30% mark.

“Let’s take Applejack. We know she and Anonymous meet every so often, specifically during harvest season when he takes the time to go help out on her farm and... yes, Fluttershy?”

All eyes turned to the yellow mare, who raised her hoof as if in class.

“Isn’t Anon employed over at that big firm in Canterlot? Why is he still going over to work at Sweet Apple Acres?”

Applejack answered. “Says he likes it. Likes the fresh air, likes the outdoors. That fancy job o’ his keeps him cooped up all day, so helpin’ out at the farm lets him destress.” She smiled. “Finds it ‘therapeutic’, if y’all believe it.”

“Ew,” Rainbow grimaced. “So you’re saying he likes doing farm work for fun?” She shook her head. “Humans are weird.”

Applejack scoffed. “He’s a decent, hard-working stallion. Ya’ll could learn a thing or two from him, Ms. Naps-on-the-Clock.”

“I’ll learn something, alright,” Dash said with a rakish smirk. “I’ll learn how to make him scream my name once I hit him with my famous ‘Rainbow Rocks Combo’. Eh? Eh?” she said, nudging Pinkie with her elbow. The two snickered in amusement.

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Honestly, the two of you are incorrigible,”

Twilight cleared her throat. “Yes, well. Moving on... uh, Fluttershy?”

She lowered her hoof. “I was wondering.” She pointed to the visual aids. “How exactly do we keep score? How do we get all the way up to a hundred percent?”

“Well, I suppose we—”

“Ain’t it obvious?” Applejack said. “Whoever gets a tussle in the sheets is the one to win.”

All save Twilight let out a collective ‘Ohh’ of realization.

“I... wouldn’t say ‘win’ per se, but...”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Rarity said to Applejack. “So if sex means we rank up to a hundred percent, what then gets us to fifty percent?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Pinkie said. “A hoofjob!”

“I could see that,” Dash agreed, as did the others.

“Which clearly means,” Pinkie continued. “A blowjob bumps you up to seventy-five.”

Twilight sighed.

“So,” Fluttershy said. “How many points is a wingjob worth?”

“Easily an eighty-five,” Dash said confidently.

“Oh no, you don’t!” Applejack said and jabbed an accusing hoof. “Rainbow Dash, you are not gonna try and give yourself a trumped-up advantage. I won’t allow it!”

“Yeah!” Pinkie said. “Everypony knows blowjobs are where it’s at!”

"Bold words, Pinkie Pie,” Rarity said. “But I think you girls are forgetting the pièce de résistance. The crème de la crème of foreplay that all stallions are powerless to resist.” Basking in the attention of her friends, Rarity flicked her mane with a dramatic, well-practiced motion. “Behold! The hornjob!”

The girls groaned collectively before erupting into a lively debate, with Rarity extolling the virtues of the hornjob, Pinkie and Applejack arguing for blowjob supremacy, while Rainbow and Fluttershy insisted on the wingjob’s superiority. It wasn’t until the five started to make bets on who could make a certain human cum the fastest with their techniques that an increasingly fed-up Twilight had had enough.

*THWACK!*

“Girls!”

*THWACK!*

“Girls!” Twilight bellowed. “Can we please remain focused?” Her friends ceased their chattering and turned their attention to her.

“Thank you,” she said and stifled a yawn. Dark bags hung prominently beneath her eyes, the result of a particularly productive night of stargazing. “As I was saying, we can use these visual aids to get a sense of our progress. It’s... well, admittedly it’s not a strictly definite method to accurately measure a subjective and oft fluctuating concept like relationships, but it can at least help us get an understanding of where we stand.”

“That’s interesting and all,” Applejack said, eyes squinted and a hoof tapping at her chin as she stared at the visual aids with a tilt to her head. “I just wanna know why you used thermometers of all things.”

“Actually they’re—”

“Thermometers?” Pinkie piped up. “I thought they were cocks.” All eyes turned to the chalkboard.

“Wait, they’re not?” Rarity said.

*THWACK!*

“No!”

*THWACK!*

“They!”

*THWACK!*

“Are!”

*THWACK!*

“Not!”

*THWACK!*

“Cocks!”

Her friends started at her outburst and Twilight closed her eyes, and doing as Cadence taught her, took a deep breath. Happy thoughts. She cleared her throat. “Moving on.” Calling on her magic, Twilight then levitated six pieces of chalk to the visual aids, filling them from the bottom up and stopping at different intervals.

“Hey wait!” Rainbow said. “I should be way higher than that!” she said indignantly, jabbing a hoof at the cyan-colored aid, which had been filled roughly to the 20% mark.

Twilight gave her a flat look. “Should you, though? Pinkie told me about that little incident at Anon’s place.”

A red-faced Rainbow looked like she’d sucked on a lemon as she turned to a flustered Pinkie Pie.

“Heh-heh... oops?” she said, rubbing the back of her head.

Applejack smirked. “This I gotta hear. What’d you do now, Dash?”

Pinkie opened her mouth, only to be cut off. “Pinkie Pie, don’t you dare!” Rainbow said warningly. Pinkie closed her mouth.

“You realize of course,” Rarity said. “This makes us all the more curious still?” She then addressed Pinkie. “Go on then, darling. What exactly did our prismatic friend do?”

Pinkie began to sweat as all eyes turned on her. Everymare was then surprised when Fluttershy spoke up.

“She broke into Anon’s room.”

Rainbow gawped. “F-Fluttershy?”

“Ooh, the plot thickens!” Rarity gushed.

“Dang it, Rainbow! Now why’d you go and do something so irresponsible?”

“Not to mention creepy,” Twilight muttered.

“It wasn’t my idea!” Rainbow said indignantly, then jabbed a hoof at a certain pink pony. “She put me up to it!”

“Pinkie Pie?” Rarity said, her eyes wide.

Pinkie sweated more profusely. “O-oops?”

“Is that true then, Pinks?” Applejack said.

Pinkie coughed, looking everywhere and nowhere in particular. “It seemed a good idea at the moment.”

“Pinkie,” Twilight said as she brought up a hoof to rub her temple in the hopes of warding off the incipient headache. “What exactly possessed you to take such an... ill-advised course of action?”

Gulping, she said, “Well, you see...”

***

“...it’s a good idea!” Pinkie insisted as she pronked alongside Rainbow Dash.

“I dunno,” Rainbow said as she fluttered along one of Ponyville’s main streets. “Sounds kinda sketchy to me. What if Anon or the others walk in on us? Who’s to say we won’t get caught?”

“Oh please, Rainbow Dash. Who do you think you’re talking to?”

Rainbow barely batted an eye as Pinkie froze, suspended in the air as she reached into her voluminous mane and retrieved a sealed manila envelope. After handing it to Rainbow, she allowed the laws of gravity to reassert themselves and Pinkie continued on pronking.

“What is this?” Rainbow muttered as she opened the envelope and scanned its contents, her eyes progressively growing wider the further on she went. “Pinkie, what the hay?”

“Pretty thorough, huh?” she said proudly. “Lyra helps Bon Bon out in her shop on Saturdays. She needs it, too. All those colts and fillies running around with allowance money burning a hole in their pockets? They’ll be busy well into the afternoon.”

“But what about Anon?”

Pinkie motioned her to keep on reading. Rainbow Dash shuffled the papers, reading the second page.

“You’ve memorized his entire schedule?”

Pinkie scoffed. “Hardly memorized!” she said with a good-natured roll of her eyes. “Just, you know, good old-fashioned stalk—er, recon! Ehh... intelligence gathering! Yeah.”

“Eesh... I still dunno, Pinkie. Even for you...”

Pinkie giggled. “Come on, Dashie. I keep detailed files on everypony in town. How do you think I throw the bestest, most splendiferousest tailor-made parties ever?”

“Huh,” Rainbow muttered as she scanned the ill-attained information on the page. “I guess that makes sense. I always wondered how you... hey, wait a minute!” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she turned on Pinkie Pie. “Does that mean you keep files on me and the girls?”

Pinkie came back down to earth.

“Rainbow, Rainbow, Rainbow Dash,” Pinkie said magnanimously, then turned to her prismatic friend with a sly wink. “Don’t worry about it.”

***

“Well, you say that,” remarked an extremely unamused Twilight. “But I really think we should.”

“Yeah,” Applejack said. “It’s messed up.”

Rarity sniffed. “I, for one, would like to hear more about these so-called files, and how thoroughly Pinkie’s gone about filling them.”

“And we will. Trust me, we will,” Twilight assured her. “But let’s stay on topic.” She turned back to Pinkie. “We’re still waiting to hear why you thought breaking into Anonymous’ room was a good idea.”

Pinkie giggled nervously. “I thought we might find some dirty maggos in his room.” At her friends’ questioning looks, she then elaborated. “You know, some Playcolt issues? Or Playmare, if that’s more his thing. Or, you know, anything else. See what kind of kinky stuff he’s into. See what gets his motor running.”

Twilight considered this. Applejack then spoke up. “And? Didya find anything?”

***

“Nothing. Zip. Nada!” Pinkie exclaimed in disbelief, throwing her hooves in the air. “Is that even possible? There’s no way he doesn’t have a naughty little something laying around.”

Many ponies would describe Pinkie as random, and they’d be right. Slightly lesser known was the fact she was a master at finding and squeezing herself into the most unlikely places imaginable—a skill she’d shamelessly employed to practically turn Anonymous’ room inside out in her search for a juicy secret.

She scanned the room again with a critical eye in the hopes of finding a spot she might have missed. Indeed, it looked as though a hurricane had swept through the room. Which, come to think of it, already looked as such even before starting their search.

He really should pick up after himself, Pinkie mused. Oh well, colts will be colts.

“Give it up, Pinkie. This whole thing’s a bust,” Rainbow said, emerging from beneath Anon’s double bed. “Nothing down there but spiders and dust bunnies,” she said grumpily and shook herself to get rid of the detritus that clung to her coat. “And isn’t it getting kinda late? I really don’t think we should push our luck. What if Anon or Lyra or... or that friend of hers come back?”

“We’ll be fine,” Pinkie insisted, then reached into her mane and pulled out a clock, closely peering at the time. Her eyes darted to the door that lay atop the stairs. “Well, we should get a move on soon. But if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go ask.”

Once the clock disappeared back into her mane, Pinkie pronked over to the dresser that sat under a window—well, more like a small, rectangular pane of glass that could slide open to let some fresh air(and some nosy ponies) inside—hopped onto it and, standing on her hind legs, waved over the third member of their little group.

“How’s it look, Flutters? Any sign of him?”

***

“Wait, wait. What?” Twilight interrupted. “You roped Fluttershy into this?”

All eyes turned to the quiet mare, who fidgeted under the scrutiny.

“Don’t blame me,” she said. “I was just the lookout.”

“I must say, darling, this is not like you at all,” Rarity said. “Why did you even agree to this foolish venture?”

Fluttershy turned a reproachful eye to a twitching Pinkie Pie. “She said she had a ‘really super-duper fun surprise’ waiting for me.”

***

“This IS the surprise!” Pinkie declared proudly, waving a hoof to the humble house that two ponies and a certain human called their home.

***

“Which, I guess it was. Just not fun. Or super-duper. Or very pleasant in general,” she said thoughtfully. “It was actually quite stressful.”

“So let me get this straight, Pinkie Pie,” Applejack groaned as she ran a hoof down her face. “You’re tellin’ us this was all for nothing?”

“I... wouldn’t say for nothing.”

“Well,” Rarity hesitated. “Let’s look on the bright side. At the very least none of you girls were caught. Right?”

Pinkie looked away. Rainbow grimaced, suddenly finding her hooves merited close scrutiny.

“Right?” Rarity repeated.

“N-no. No! I mean...” Pinkie stammered. “He didn’t exactly see us, but—”

“But Anon nearly walked in on Rainbow and Pinkie in his bed,” Fluttershy said helpfully.

Rainbow’s grimace tightened while Pinkie did her best blowfish impersonation by puffing her cheeks, spittle flying from her puckered lips—likely an attempt at nonchalant whistling.

“I’m sorry,” Twilight said calmly. “Could you say that again? It almost sounded like you said Anonymous almost walked in on Pinkie and Rainbow in his bed.” She then turned to Pinkie. “But that can’t possibly be correct. Right, Pinkie?” Twilight said, her narrowed eyes piercing right through the twitching pink pony. “Because I distinctly remember you saying you and Dash got away with nopony being the wiser.”

Pinkie scuffed the floor with a hoof.

“Pinkie Pie!”

“I told her we should go!” Pinkie cried. “We found nothing! Zip! Nada! Flutters and I were all set to leave, but Rainbow was like, ‘Nah, let’s roll around in his bed for a bit’. And then I was all like...”

“What the hay!” Rainbow said heatedly. “Don’t pin this all on me! Fluttershy was supposed to be the lookout.” She rounded on the shy pegasus. “You had one job!”

Fluttershy met Rainbow’s accusation with dignified stoicism. “I’m sorry if the two of you were caught, Rainbow, but I had to step away. Something more important came up.”

“Care to share, sugarcube?” Applejack asked.

Fluttershy’s wings ruffled. “Well, you see, there was this cute little family of dormice living in the attic of the house and, well, the mama and papa were upset because one of their kits was feeling under the weather, so I offered to take a look at him.” Taking a cue from Pinkie, Fluttershy carefully reached into her mane. Sitting on the frog of her hoof was a small, furry, curled up critter, dwarfed even by Fluttershy’s dainty hoof. It opened its eyes and regarded the curious mares around it.

“Ooh, aren’t you the cutest little thing!” Rarity cooed, smiling charmingly as she leaned in, nose to nose. “Whatever is the matter with him, Fluttershy?”

“He has a slight cold. His mama and papa say it can get a bit drafty where they live.”

Rarity tutted. “Well, that won’t do at all, will it? Why don’t you bring him by the boutique later on, darling? I can make him the most adorable little sweater. Oh! Better yet, bring along his whole family! I’ll make matching outfits for them all. They will stay both warm and stylish.”

Fluttershy smiled. “Thank you, Rarity. I’m sure they’ll appreciate that.” She placed the dormouse back into her mane. “Oh, and Twilight? That reminds me, I need to fix up some medicine for the little one. Is it alright if I use your kitchen?”

Twilight waved a hoof. “Not at all, Fluttershy. Go on ahead.”

“What, so she gets a pass?” Rainbow grumbled under her breath, watching as Fluttershy picked up her saddlebags. She turned the handle to the door and it opened with the loud clank of oiled metal, before going out the room and closing it behind her.

“Ooh, she’s good,” Pinkie whispered back.

“As for you two,” Applejack said. “I’m almost afraid t’ ask... but what exactly were ya thinking rolling around in his bed?” Her eyes locked with Rainbow’s before curling into a malevolent smirk. “And you, missy. I thought you would have learned your lesson, especially after what happened at flight college.”

Rainbow blanched.

“Ooh,” Rarity said, eyes lighting up at the prospect of juicy gossip. “Do tell.”

“Dash here had her eye on a stallion, y’see. What, Cirrus something? Anywho, she snuck into his room and got so caught up sniffin’ his sheets she completely missed him coming back.”

“I told you that in confidence!” Rainbow shrilled.

“Ya’ll were drunk! On my cider! Which ya still haven’t paid me back for, by the by!”

“Um, Applejack?” Pinkie said. “Don’t be so harsh on Dashie. I mean, you weren’t there. You didn’t see how...”

“How what, Pinkie?” Asked Twilight.

***

“Uhh, Dashie?” Pinkie hesitated as she approached. “Whatcha doing?”

Rainbow stood atop the bed, her back to Pinkie and leaning down, her muzzle buried in the fabric of the sheets.

“C’mere for a moment,” Rainbow said, frowning in concentration, her nostrils flaring like a bloodhound with a scent trail.

Pinkie shrugged and hopped atop the bed. A spicy, musky scent tickled her nose.

“Do you smell it too?” Rainbow asked and before Pinkie could react, she shoved a bundled mass of the sheets right under Pinkie’s nose.

Pinkie started a bit, but curiosity got the better of her. She then inhaled.

“Oh. Oh, wow. That is—”

“I know, right? And this is nothing. It’s like way stronger when he starts getting all sweaty during practice.”

Pinkie fidgeted. Her hind legs rubbed together as the echoes of a familiar ache began to manifest in her marehood.

“So you and Anon... I mean, have the two of you... you know,” she made a suggestive gesture with her hooves.

Rainbow shook her head.

“Really?”

“Mm-mmm.”

“Really, really,” Pinkie pressed.

“Nope,” Rainbow said.

“But that’s crazy! I mean,” Pinkie buried her face in the sheets and took a deep breath, purring in contentment. “That smells like somepony who’s rarin’ for some fun!”

“Tell me about it,” Rainbow muttered. “You should have seen Derpy and AJ during Anon’s first few practice rounds at hoofball.” She grinned. “It was like Neighagara Falls down there.”

“If he’s as potent as you say,” Pinkie inhaled the sheets again, her cheeks flushed. “I can’t really blame them. Oof, it’s even getting me all hot and bothered,”

“I’d say you get used to it,” Dash said as she followed Pinkie’s lead and took another sample of Anonymous’ exotic alien musk. “But you really don’t.”

***

“Aha!” Rarity said suddenly. “So I wasn’t imagining things after all!” At her friends’ questioning looks, she elaborated. “I too noticed Anonymous tended to send, eh, mixed signals, so to speak. I thought nothing of it at first. Just normal human behavior was my thinking, but after hearing what Rainbow and Pinkie said, it’s more likely Anonymous doesn’t even realize he’s, well, putting himself out there.”

“I’m not too sure about that, Rares,” Applejack said. “I mean, I’ve been close to the feller when he starts working up a good sweat. He might as well be hanging a sign over his head invitin’ ya for a private hoedown, if you know what I mean.”

Twilight voiced her doubts. “Don’t forget, Applejack. He’s technically an alien. First of his kind in Equestria. There’s no precedent where he and his biology are concerned. But... hmm.” she tapped a hoof to her chin. “More likely than not, his sense of smell is nowhere near acute as ours. And that’s not mentioning the fact we know next to nothing about his species’ mating rituals. Things that may seem normal or obvious to us probably go over his head, and vice versa.”

Rainbow groaned. “You’re making this sound way too complicated. He has needs, we have needs. We get together, break the ice and help each other out. Easy peasy.”

Applejack raised an eyebrow. “That simple, huh?”

Rainbow shrugged. “Works for everypony else.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Twilight said to the surprise of all. “Well, to an extent. There could be a middle ground here we can work towards.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Of course, we still have unknown variables to contend with.” Her wing unfolded to point at the six visual aids in the chalkboard. “We’ve all made a bit of progress this past week, and though we have a better sense of where we stand with Anonymous, I believe it’s as good a time as any to test the waters. Dip our hooves, so to speak. See how... receptive he is to a mare’s advances.”

“Aw, yeah!” Rainbow said, rubbing her hooves. “Finally, some action.”

“Which reminds me, Applejack,” Twilight continued. “Be so kind as to tie Pinkie up for a bit. We wouldn’t want any rogue elements to destabilize this delicate part of our operation.”

“Wait, what?” With a flash of magic, a rope materialized in front of Applejack and before Pinkie could blink, she found herself hogtied to the floor, lying face-up, her legs kicking as she squirmed against her bonds. “Oh, come on!” she cried indignantly.

“S’rry hun,” Applejack said thickly, not looking sorry at all, rope held in her mouth as she gave it one last tug to tighten the knots. “But, y’know, royal mandate and all.”

“Think of it this way, darling,” Rarity said breezily. “A nice, well-earned rest.”

Rainbow hovered above the bound Pinkie Pie, eyes narrowed as she regarded her friend’s compromised position. A core memory stirred in her mind. Her lip curled into a licentious smirk. “Heheh,” she chuckled. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you guys?” Her friends spared her some curious glances. “Hearth's Warming Eve? AJ’s barn? Pinkie’s big box of toys?” Her friends blushed and looked away, the events of that wild night deeply etched in their collective memories.

“Ooh!” Pinkie cooed. “Does this make me the Hearth’s Warming gift again?” She batted her eyelashes in an uncannily similar way to Rarity. “Who gets to open me up this time?” She wiggled suggestively in a manner that drew attention to her supple flank. Her friends blushed harder still.

“Look, Pinkie dear,” Rarity said delicately. “You know the girls and I love you for your, eh, Pinkieness. But maybe you should learn when to tone it down a skooch.” The others muttered their agreement.

Pinkie’s smile wavered. “Oh. Sorry everypony,” she said sincerely. “Guess I got a little too excited, huh?”

“Happens to the best of us, sugarcube.”

Pinkie took a deep breath, then another. “In my defense, it’s been a while since I’ve had a stallion.”

Applejack nodded solemnly. “The dating pool is a bit dry out there.”

Twilight smiled wryly. “Welcome to Ponyville, am I right?” Her friends’ chuckles were tinged with a hint of bitterness.

“It’s probably too little, too late,” Pinkie said. “But I’m sorry, Twilight. I didn’t mean to throw a monkey wrench in the works.”

Rainbow sighed. “Yeah, me too. We should have known better than to break into somepony’s house. It’s just, well,” She bit her lip. “I haven’t been laid in months, alright? A-and Anon’s not making things any easier, running around with that... that... ‘buck me’ smell of his.” Pinkie and Applejack nodded knowingly.

“It’s been a dry spell for us all, darling,” Rarity said. “But we are also grown mares, not ones to give in to our base impulses.”

“Uh-huh,” Rainbow drawled. “And how long’s it been since you got some action, Rares?”

Rarity chuckled. “Well, it’s not been months, I can tell you that much. Why, it’s... it’s only been—” Rarity’s small, haughty smile curved downward, morphing into a grim line as she stared into the distance. “No, you know what? A proper lady does not kiss and tell!”

Rainbow snorted, rolling her eyes.

“And no offense, Twilight,” Pinkie said, still bound like a prize hog. “But you’re not exactly helping, what with drawing cocks all over the place.” She jerked her head to the chalkboard, where the phallic looking aids stretched tall and proud, almost mocking the horny mares.

Twilight sighed wearily. “I’ve said it already, Pinkie, they are not—”

The turning of a brass handle rang loud in the small room, drawing the attention of all. Fluttershy stepped forward, her lips taut in a strained smile. Flanking her was the tall, distinctive shape of...

“Anon-Anonymous?” Twilight squeaked out, nearly choking on her spit. Her unprepared friends fared little better.

He nodded. “Hey, Twilight. Ladies,” He said, acknowledging the other mares. His eyes then fell on the still bound Pinkie. “...Should I come back later?”

“O-oh, this?” Pinkie said, wiggling her limbs. “Pshh, no. No! We... we were just, um...”

“Learning about knots!” Twilight said.

Rainbow cocked her head. “We were?” Rarity not-so-subtly kicked her in the shins. “I-I mean, yes! Yes we were. In fact, AJ was telling us all about it.” She turned to the cowpony with a smile that was a bit too wide and self-satisfied. “Right?”

Applejack’s eye twitched. “Right y’are, RD,” she said through clenched teeth and trotted over to Pinkie’s side and tugged at the rope for emphasis. “See, this here’s a square knot. It’s a good, all-around, reliable sort.” She pulled at the rope with a swift tug, releasing the bound Pinkie.

“Ooh, don’t forget the pretzel knot,” Pinkie said helpfully as she got back to her hooves. “I like that one.”

“And the double-diamond knot,” Rarity chimed in.

“My dad taught me the gut knot,” Rainbow said.

“I like the butterfly knot,” Fluttershy said softly.

Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin. “Interesting. Maybe I should look into...” She caught Anonymous’ eye and shook her head. “Oh. Sorry, where are my manners?” Smiling pleasantly, she said, “What brings you here? Can I help you with something?”

“I’d like to check out some books.”

“You do?” Her face lit up with a smile. “That’s great! I... don’t believe you even have a library card, do you? I mean, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you stop by before and... w-well, that’s alright! We can get you set up in a jiffy. It’s really a fairly expedient process, much more streamlined than the system we had in place before I took over the library,” she said proudly. “Anyway, follow me and we’ll sort it out.”

Trotting beside him, Twilight unfolded her wing to usher him out the small room and into the main hall of the library, closing the door with her magic. She then made a beeline for the small reception area she appropriated for conducting library business and began rifling through it in search for the necessary items. Blank library cards, an official ledger, quills; the works.

“Hmm, I know I had that thing around here somewhere...” Twilight muttered as she used her magic to open the various drawers at the reception desk, levitating the contents as she searched for the camera.

Anonymous nodded. “You mind if I look around in the meantime?”

Twilight waved a hoof. “Not at all.” After making sure she placed everything back where it was, she looked up. “Looking for something in particular? Did you have any questions?”

Anonymous scratched at the stubble of his jaw, lips quirking into an odd smile as he glanced back at the small room he’d found Twilight. “Just one, actually,” With a jerk of his thumb, pointed to the closed door to Twilight’s study. “What’s with the cocks?”

***

Back inside Twilight’s study, five mares had their own issues to deal with.

“Hoo-whee,” Pinkie Pie sighed, wiping the imaginary sweat off her forehead. “That was close.”

“Dagnabit, Fluttershy,” Applejack whispered. “Why’d you go and bring that feller inside here anyway?”

“Oh. Well, I did try and talk to Anonymous to distract him but, um, I don’t think he heard me.”

Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “Typical.”

“Hush now, girls,” Rarity whispered. “Let’s not give him any reason to suspect anything’s amiss.” She turned her attention to the door and, calling upon her magic, opened it ever so delicately—just enough to allow a sliver of the events playing out in the main room.

The five mares were practically stacked atop the other as they vied for a spot to peek through.

“Is she... lecturing him?” Rainbow Dash said.

“So it seems,” Rarity sighed.

“Silly Twilight,” Pinkie giggled. “No wonder she never gets any action.”

“Even I know that’s not the way to get a stallion interested,” Fluttershy whispered.

“Yes siree,” Applejack said dejectedly. “We sure have our work cut out for us with this filly.”

“Ohh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” Pinkie said. “We just need to push her in the right direction.”

“What we need,” Rainbow said. “Is to somehow get her to take that big ol’ stick out her plothole.”

“Rainbow Dash!” Rarity said, aghast. “Do you kiss your father with that mouth?”

“No. Just yours.”

“Now see here, you—”

“Landsakes, do the two of y’all need a room?” Applejack hissed.

“Or a spicy little accoutrement to kick things up a notch?” Pinkie said, presenting her hoof in which she held a peculiar, teardrop-shaped object, the kind an adventurous pony or creature might use for backdoor activities.

There came the frantic beating of wings and stomping of hooves as her friends backed away from the obscene object in her grip.

Rarity’s eyes were wide as saucers. “P-P-Pinkie Pie! Where on Tartarus did you get that?”

“Why do you even have it?” Applejack demanded, regarding the profane object as if it were a snake in the grass.

“Well, we were talking about plots and pulling things out of plots and something about bedroom play, so...” she swiveled her head, regarding the horrified and livid glares sent her way. “Did I misread that?”

“The buck do ya think?” Applejack said through gritted teeth.

“Put it away. Just put it away!” Rarity wailed.

Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Alright, jeez... everypony’s being a sourpuss today.” She then reached back behind her and...

Everymare groaned.

Dash facehooved. “No. Pinkie! Don’t stick it up your... why didn’t you just put it back where you found it?”

Pinkie blinked. “But I did.”

...

…

“That’s it,” Rarity said. “I’m out of here.” She promptly cantered for the door, opening it with her telekinesis.

“Wait, Rarity!” said Fluttershy as she fluttered after her. “I don’t think Twilight was done with her—” The door slammed shut. “Oh. Okay.”

Author's Note

Note to self: Do NOT try and create an entire scene for the purpose of setting up a cock joke. You'll just tear your hairs out trying to make it all fit.