Nick had grown up in an era where chores were being phased out. There was a lot of coddling. Now, he'd been fine with that while growing up. Why spend half an hour doing the dishes when he could have half an hour of video games, instead? The dishes would be done by his mom because she wanted to eat dinner.

It wasn't until two weeks after he moved into his first apartment that he opted to learn how to do any of this stuff. Having his mom, or sometimes his grandmother, around to clean up his dishes and clothes for his whole life had seen him gorge himself on fast food for a week and a half, then not eat for three days while he waited for his next paycheck.

As for his laundry, his biggest blast of weakness hit him pretty hard. There was a hot MILF in her nightgown in the room when he'd gone down to the basement to do his laundry, and she seemed to think he was cute. He'd tried to impress her by doing his own laundry, despite never having done it before, and she had to help him clean up the massive mess he'd made. Now she thought he was an oaf, and wouldn't let him do laundry on his own because it could just cause another mess, and she definitely wasn't going to invite him back to her apartment.

As a result, he didn't know how to wash his own clothes, and when his new mistress handed him a washboard and tossed his clothes into the water next to him, he had no idea what he was doing.

"I've never used one of these before." He turned to her, her arms folded under her tits. "I don't know how it works."

She cocked her head to the side. "Because it's a woman's work, is it?"

His face flushed red in embarrassment. "N-no... I didn't say that."

"Perhaps it's because you're ignorant? Or mayhaps lazy?"

"A little of both," he admitted. "And also, we had electric ones."

"Ya-huh," she snorted back. "You want to plug that thing into a lightning bolt and sit in the water with it?"

He shook his head vehemently. "It was in, like a tub."

"Yeah. Mine, too. Do you have a tub with you?"

"...No..."

"Just wash your damn clothes."

He'd never done it this way before, but he had seen cartoons where it was done. Maybe he was wrong about how to do it, but she wasn't teaching him very well. Grabbing his shirt, he began to rub it against the ridges. He looked back at her, and there seemed to be some amount of satisfaction on her face.

"So, uh... My name's Jake," he said, turning back to his work.

"Is it really?" she chuckled. "Not a name I've ever heard before. Sounds a bit odd, but hey, I'm not making your parents' decisions."

That wasn't the response he was looking for, and now he felt very self-conscious about his own name. "What's your name?"

"You don't know my name? What kind of spy doesn't know the name of his quarry?"

He shrank down a bit. "I'm not a spy. But if I was, my cover is blown, and I may as well confirm my target. If I have the wrong person, I can just leave."

"I'm the only pony here."

"Maybe I'm on the wrong island?"

She laughed. "Fair enough. I am Princess Celestia of Equestria, banished monarch of the sun and autumn."

"You're a princess?"

"Banished princess. I hold no authority, here, save for what strength and knowledge I possess."

"Would that knowledge extend to washing clothes?"

"I'm not washing your clothes for you."

"No, no, I just... Am I doing this right?"

"Do you think you're doing it right?"

He shrugged. "I've never done this before."

She waded out to stand over him. "You're being too gentle. You'll clean them, but at this rate, you'll be here all day. Put your shoulder into it. Like this."

Wrapping her arm around him, he felt her hand grab his. She gripped it tightly, and with a firm, heavy pressure, scraped his knuckles against the washboard, both twice and hard and twice as fast as he was doing. More importantly, he felt her breasts squeeze against his back.

With her guidance, he finished within half an hour. She mentioned that, since he had so few clothes, it should have only taken ten minutes at most; three minutes to wash a shirt, three for his shorts, and four for his dirty boxer briefs. He definitely thought she was right, too.

After wringing out his clothes, she escorted him back to her place, hanging his clothes on a line to dry in the wind. Just as he thought he was going to have to go about the next several hours completely nude and exposed to the elements, she tossed a pair of panties at him. These were significantly smaller than the pair he'd stolen the previous day.

"What's this?" he asked.

"You keep covering up your tiny little mast with your hands. Clearly, you're embarrassed by your small penis."

Jake was not embarrassed by his size. He had looked up how to measure himself, and he wore a medium-sized condom. Or he would, if he'd ever managed to work his way into anyone's bed. He was embarrassed because he was brought up believing that one should never expose themselves to someone else; that if he showed someone his dick without their consent, they'd kick him in the balls and have him arrested.

"These will cover you. They belonged to my favourite student, quite a time ago."

When she said "student," he looked at her incredulously.

"Well, she was in her twenties when we first had sex. Unbunch your panties, and put them on."

Jake stepped into, and then pulled up the blue and white striped panties until they were cradling his dick and balls. They were soft, and surprisingly managed to hold his whole backage rather easily. It didn't even show a bulge.

Celestia smacked his arse as he stood up. "Come on. You're going to retrieve my dinner."

As she walked off, Jake shivered. What had he landed himself in, now?

Author's Note

The above depiction is not the correct usage of a washboard. Please refer to your owner's manual for proper instructions on how to wash clothes.