Conspiracy Theories

by cxzyzx

Rating: mature
Tags: Random, Human, Romance
Length: 5844

HiE. Surprisingly, YOU are the center of all the conspiracy theorist's dreams. The purpose? Not so sinister.

Surprisingly, YOU are the center of all the conspiracy theorist's dreams. The purpose?

Not really that sinister.

Trigger Warning: Human in Equestria, clopfic.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-03-16 19:10:02 UTC

Self-Cahooting

Note: No real science was involved during the making of this fic.

You stand before the product of your entire life's work, trembling, reflecting for a moment on the enormous stakes of the next few minutes. Thirty-three years are behind you in pursuit of this dream, since at the age of six you had become fascinated by "dimensions" and "time-travel" and "multiple universes". A sum total of thirty-nine years of life about to be thrown, spiraling into upheaval, no matter the result of a soon-to-be flipped switch. Always your interests had lay in science, in the discovery of what miraculously was, and the application of that knowledge.

Gargantuan, it loomed eight-and-a-half feet tall of smooth polished metal, gleaming under unnatural fluorescent light, a massive arc framing an empty doorway. The trend of aesthetics and technology in the modern day never ceased to amuse you: sports cars and fighter jets—sexy and fearsome, respectively—both aerodynamic to the fullest degree; the popular computers of the day, capable machines, yet held in regard for an artful design; a complex combustion engine, intricate enough to arouse a stray passerby's will to examine the strange tangle of machinery.

The project was top secret, funded by taxpayer dollars for the military of the United States government, and you were the center of a one-man conspiracy. It was the only path you had seen to recognize your goals, by cooperating and signing on with the powers-that-be, falsely pledging your loyalty to the leadership of your country, and the people who put them in charge. Years of ceaseless work eventually boosted your standing within the scientific community until, as one of the top theoretical physicists, you had been chosen to lead the covert experiment before you.

It was a machine supposed to be capable of separating layers of the universe, capable of extra-dimensional travel. You were a moment away from spectacular failure, or the exploitation of millions of dollars for your own 'nefarious' purposes.

The multiverse: a complex network of universes wherin every potential outcome for each instance of interaction between entities was represented. In another universe, you were about to suffer moral pangs and not go through with your lifelong plans; another, you wouldn't be here at all, having never thought of it; another, you are caught scheming before getting this far.

The idea had occurred to you: if every possible universe existed, and with this machine, you were able to create a portal to it, would you be able to travel to imagined universes? Humans couldn't even predict all the different possible futures of the 'apparent' universe, so what about a universe born out of different physical laws? Why couldn't the multiverse include Hogwarts or Fosters Home for Imaginary Friends, or Hell? Why not, if imaginable, might it be within the realm of possibility?

You harden your heart and prepare to betray your family, your country, all of humanity that wished for technology and science to work on elevating the human condition. You act in willful greed, typing "Equestria" into a location field, flipping a switch, and stepping into the now-glowing arc.

You feel your mind ripping into a thousand fleshy ribbons as the room around you explodes and your body is destroyed.

You wake up on your back staring at a sky brilliantly illuminated by a sun that you don't recognize. Your head is throbbing, vision tinted red from the blood rushing about your skull. You try to sit up but the effort is too great so you turn your head and look parallel to the ground supporting your weight.

With your eyes at the base of the earth, the blades of grass appear as tall green spires, obstructing half your field of view as they reach ever skywards, a forest of pointed towers.

As you lay paralyzed, you think, it worked!, before realizing that you have no idea what 'it' might refer to. Your memory is blank and the only things left to your recollection are language, identity, and random scraps of memory you can't place.

Aswirl with incoherent images, you clutch at your temples, trying to dissuade the chaos within your mind. A globe covered mostly in water, floating among an endless expanse of blackness.... An old man with wild white hair, reciting a string of letters and numbers, 'e=mc2'... Another old man, this one angry and shouting, dressed in a green uniform with many pins and ribbons, spittle flying from his mouth, clinging to the brush above his upper lip...

You groan and try to sit up again, successful on your second try. With your new, elevated view point, you gaze around once more. The slope downwards is gentle and you are atop a high grassy hill, about a mile from a small settlement which stirs a feeling of recognition and longing inside you. The sight of the open and pastoral countryside which surrounds you evokes the same feels. You can see in the lowlands a great stretch of orchards, a strand of cows grazing on an open field, an dark forest off beyond the village.

Thin trails of smoke spiral lazily from chimneys in the settlement, ascending from stone shafts atop shingled roofs. A sense of absolute peace seizes your body, the idyllic setting bringing tears to your eyes as you regard it. It's as if you could never have conceived of this in the place where you were, though you don't know what that place is anymore.

You struggle to stand upright and are successful. Looking down, you see that you are dressed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt. Strange, you think, I haven't owned a pair of jeans since I was 18. The memory comes involuntarily and you stand still, try to figure out from whence it came, to remember more. It doesn't work.

You set off at a slow pace towards the village, wondering about the kind of people who might inhabit such an eden-esque place. What's eden? Your thoughts are referencing knowledge that you can't place the source of, words you do not remember the meaning of yet which stir a distinct feeling inside you. Shrugging it off, you continue down the slope, feeling that any pertinent knowledge would filter itself in when it was needed.

A cool breeze tugs at your hair, your clothes, and pulls the stress from your body with it's soft, ethereal kisses. A cow moos off in the distance and a bird chirps in response.

Your steps quicken in excitement as you near the cluster of buildings, your heart racing eagerly, though you  have no idea why. A cobbled road intercepts you and you adjust yourself to it, following the new trail through an entrance to the town.

The building style interests your artist's eye and you admire the fusion between 15th century townhouses and later brick-laying styles. You find yourself once more wondering at the people who built this place and their tasteful choice in location and design.

Once you enter the town, the road narrows between rows of multi-storied buildings, though, based on the window placement, each level looks much shorter than it should. You walk down the alleyway and can see, at the end, it widen into an open square at at the end of the rows of structures. The babble of cheerful conversation flows from before you, high pitched and gay, though you had yet to see one of the denizens of this place.

You realize that you have no money or identification, no way to trade for any necessities like food or water or shelter, nor have you thought of a good way to phrase any begging you might have to do. Reaching the end of the path, a nervous tingling begins to grow despite your former feelings of peaceful contentedness.

You step into the square. You see a group of pastel-colored horses, a whole array of colors, conversing with each other eagerly, manning shopping stalls or else shopping at the stalls, a town going about their daily business.

What in the living fu-?

Your blood freezes and though the scene seems vaguely familiar, you are rooted to the place you stand in shock.  A pink horse (you notice that they are short, their heads reaching to about your stomach) with a curly mane turns her head and sees you. Her eyes widen in some extreme emotion, you cannot tell if it is fear or shock or joy, before emitting an ear-splitting shriek and darting across the square to stand in front of you, gaping openly and astonished.

It was too much. "I..." You manage to croak, before your vision swims and the world fades to black.

"...No there's nothing I could find out about it..."

"...Safe to leave it unrestrained?..."

"...Think it's male.... Let him stay loose... Harm us he would have by now..."

Blips of consciousness over who knows how long a period of time. Once again you lay on your back, feeling a throbbing in your skull. You can hear two females talking about you, but your eyes are closed and they don't know that you're awake.

"Twiligh', I just don't think it's a good idea to leave it here alone, without nopony keepin' an eye out!"

"First of all, I'm almost certain 'it' is a 'he', so if you could just use the proper personal pronoun, we could move on and figure out what to do."

"You just said you ain't never seen one before! How could you know it's a he, a she, or either?"

"Either? Really, Applejack? Just look at him, can't you tell? He just looks... masculine."

You inwardly smile.

"I suppose.... But there is another way to tell, y'know."

Now you're almost fully conscious and you feel some memories start to trickle into your brain, snippets of words or phrases, things like "Pinkie Pie", "Best Pony", and "Ponyville".

All of a sudden, you feel a pressure on your crotch as someone fumbles with the fastening on the front of your jeans. Your eyes fly open and you see an orange horse... Applejack!... with her teeth around the zipper of your pants.

"Whoa!" You shout in surprise, scrambling backwards on the bed you didn't know you were laying on.

Both of the ponies before you reel in shock at your sudden animated life, throwing themselves backwards, hunched down in a defensive position.

Silence hangs in the air.

"Equestria...." You breath in shock or relief, the difference doesn't matter, as the memory of everything floods back in a mad and unbelievable torrent.

The ponies are still frozen before you and you throw your hands into the air in a sign of non-aggression, saying, "Yes, I'm a 'he', and thank you for bringing me," you look around, observing the decor for the first time, "to the hospital after I blacked out, I was in a big state of shock..."

It's a plain room with a few machines and a small bed, but it still looks like a doctor's office, despite not being as advanced as the clinics you'd most recently been too. You continue, "My name is..." and explain how you had been suffering amnesia until seeing Pinkie in the square, when your memory flooded back and knocked you out.

At the greeting, both ponies visibly relaxed, the fear of the unknown fading from their eyes.

You now realize that you had no idea what was in store for you when you had devised a plan and set your whole life towards the goal, all of it culminating with a thrown switch. Every minute detail of this place was just as real as Earth, back home. You could see the individual hairs making up the coats of your benefactors, the slight perspiration on the muzzles of the equines before you, their nostrils and sides swelling and retracting with each breath.... It hadn't really occurred to you that travelling to what you thought of as a cartoon would render itself as fully animate as your own world, rather than the smooth solid colors you had associated with the place.

To be honest, it made you a little uncomfortable, with everything about Equestria more vivid than you had ever imagined. Yet, before you were the reasons you had come, for the company of the ponies that you and millions of others had fallen absolutely in love with. And you were the lucky one to experience it in the flesh.

The ponies still looked like something was bothering them and you realized that you had named Pinkie Pie by name, stating that you had recovered from your amnesia at the sight of her. Yet, they had never seen you before and had no idea how you would know such a thing. But it was Pinkie Pie, and they let it pass.

The orange mare stated, with a tip of her stetson, "Well, I'm Applejack, howdy".

"And I'm Twilight Sparkle, pleased to meet you!"

You blush at the kindness in the unicorn's voice and smile at the two of them.

Applejack said, "Ya didn't need to startle us like that, though. It's not like clothes are natural or anything. Or did it hurt? I'm just realizing that I don't know what in tarnation your kind use em for. What is your kind?"

You blush profusely at her words. At the renewed subject of Applejack having her mouth on your groin, you feel yourself grow hard, noticing the obvious bulge between your legs.

"W-well...." You stutter, trying to figure out how to explain nakedness in terms that a pony would understand.

"My people wear them regularly, uh.. We don't have coats to keep us warm?" The lilt of your sentence betrays the uncertainty of your answer, the fact that you are obscuring information of some kind. Not knowing what you are or what is ordinary for a creature of your sort, the ponies seemed to let it pass.

What they didn't know was how horrified you were at the feeling of arousal from the vicinity which Applejack's mouth had recently occupied. You thought of multitudes of times you had fantasized about such things, but the reality was far stranger than the 'art' you had compiled a fair amount of. The cultural instinct of repulsion took you, the notion of sexual attraction to a horse as repulsive, outweighing the feelings you had developed over time. You were struggling against those notions of tolerance you had created from the desire towards an imagined-to-reality cartoon.

Yet you fought the feelings down, maintaining your outward front, composing your next words, "I'm afraid I've got nothing of value to offer for the kindness you've shown me, taking care of me like this. I guess that all I can really offer is the promise of work for whatever hospital expense and hopefully to pay for room and board."

Applejack brightened at the words but Twilight was still eyeing you as if something was turning in her mind about the story you told, or your manner of behavior. She let it go, though, as Applejack said, "I could offer you a place on the farm. The Acres can always use a helpin' hand and I'm sure we can settle on agreeable terms of payment."

Twilight interjected, "Good! I'm glad that's figured out-"

You seize on her line of thought and spread your hands in an open gesture as you say, "Well, now that the immediate future is decided, I'm sure you have some questions for me, shoot away."

Smiling.

A week had vanished and you were sitting under the speckled banner that was Luna's night sky, contemplating all that had taken place thus far. The first day at working on the farm you had been laughed off of apple-bucking duty, blushing furiously as Applejack wiped tears of laughter from her eyes and you hopped around on one foot, clutching the other as streams of profanity fled your lips.

"Haha... Whooee! That was darn funny. I think I knew you'd be no good at that but I had to see it for myself!" Followed by country laughter.

You had immediately been stripped of rank, reduced from the glory of "Apple-Bucker" and were set to scattering corn for the chickens, tending gardens, filling troughs, among other commonplace chores. It hadn't taken too long to fill in a good role and soon you were earning your keep with a few Bits surplus stashed in your bedroll.

At one month in you'd had an interview with Princess Celestia and she seemingly settled any question of your intent, fully approving of your position on the farm.

As word spread through Ponyville of your existence, the population had filtered in a few a day on normal business to the Acres, as well as a few curious souls, so you eventually met most of Applejack's friends, and her customers.

Whereas Fluttershy had been unwilling to speak and attempted discretion for even a glance in your direction, Pinkie Pie had been positively bouncing, eager to hear anything you had to say and always practically flirting with you, in her own fashion. Both Rarity and Rainbow Dash appeared aloof, too preoccupied with their reasons for seeing Applejack to pay much attention, not too impressed about things outside their normal interests. Then Twilight had come and your heart had fluttered at the sight. You hadn't exchanged too many words with her, just blanket formalities, but you now had a goal set to your sights.

By the end of the second month you were running errands into Ponyville for the Apples, selling produce with Applejack in the town square on farmers market days (being human was apparently novel enough for an increase in sales), or delivering supplies to those who ordered them.

What you tried to do the most, though, was find excuses that would leave you in the presence of Twilight. You would quiz Applejack on a subject to the limits of her knowledge until she would sigh and tell you to go look it up in the library, where you were already seen spending hours during your days-off.

It wasn't just Twilight. The bookshelves were abound with fascinating subjects: from creatures native to the nearby Everfree, to the origins and expansion of Equestria, to the speculation of what might lay in the unexplored parts of the world, shown as fog on the edges of current maps. You were in a state of bliss when reading the large tomes on Magic Theory and then seeing what the modern ponies were writing about: a supposed increase in technological development as applied with magic, theories of the universe beyond the planet (Luna had brought back from the moon knowledge that Equestria was not flat and the whole thing was damnably fun to read about).

When she had time though, Twi would come see what you were studying. She found interest in the subjects that you found interesting and the two of you had soon developed a good rapport. Other than AJ, Twilight Sparkle was your best friend in the world. She was up to date on the modern science of this world and you were happy to go off on a tangent whenever you saw something that might overlap in the Equine understanding of the universe. Philosophy, too, was never off limits. Despite all the time spent together, none of the ponies ever inquired too seriously about your origins. They just assumed you were a traveler from unknown parts, and accepted another creature in a world of friendly and sentient creatures. Spike was slightly jealous.

It was the end of the third month when Applejack came into your room after dinner, with a worried look on her her face, a question visibly tugging at her lips. Yet she restrained it and merely said, "How's it goin'? Are you satisfied here, or do you got any complaints, requests, feedback?"

You knew that this wasn't the source of worry on her face, so you answered with the obvious and easy in order to move to whatever the real business was.

"AJ." You say, prompting her. You can sense her blushing profusely through the orange fur of her face as she slowly states the next few words.

She opens her mouth and closes it, then opens it and says, "I really—I really like you, despite our differences,"

You feel the warmth of her breath, that's how close the two of you are,

"and I've just felt so much happier while you've been around, helping out. It's... I wanted to say, to ask..."

You're staring at a pony that you indeed regard as beautiful, though you still haven't gotten over the difference between a cartoon horse and a real horse, but horror is behind your eyes and the room has become a vacuum of emotions while you feel a crushing sadness in anticipation of what the next few words will be.

"...to ask if you would be my special somepony...?"

You smile but it is joyless and hollow, and you feel that it is terrible and cruel. Applejack's eyes are tilted downwards so she doesn't see it, though it seems as if she is expecting the answer you are going to give; her eyes are already shimmering with standing tears.

It feels evil saying what is on your mind and you think it might be true that humanity is a destructive virus to whatever it might live near. It hadn't even been half a year in Equestria and you were crushing the hopes of one of the kindest, most deserving creatures you had ever met.

The pony makes a small whimper and you realize that you haven't said anything. The silence in the room is thick and profound, giving her the worst answer in the world. You haven't spoken yet and she decides to take her last chance.

Wiping the glitter of wetness from her eyes, AJ takes a deep breath before leaping at you, her forehooves striking your shoulders and knocking you back on the bed, your legs hanging off at the knee. She plants a fierce kiss on your mouth and you taste cinnamon and spice for a brief moment before reality returns and your hands are grasping the fur of her chest and you're pushing her off violently, retching at the contact of a horse mouth to your own, and she's sobbing and fleeing the room as you just stand there dazed....

"Shit." It's about all there is to say, as you look at the meager furnishings of your residence despondently.

I don't think I should stay here after that, not at all.

Ponyville already ruined for you.

You gather the money you've made thus far and a bundle of clean clothes before walking to the door. You stand under the frame and give your former housing a last somber look before sneaking out of the farmhouse and striding off through the night.

*Knock Knock Knock*

In the darkness, you rap on the hardwood door of the library. There is no response. After another minute, you try again, and are rewarded with shuffling from inside. Spike swings the door open and sees who it is before saying groggily, "Oh come on. Come back in the morning."

Before you have a chance to speak he starts to swing the door shut but a cry of, "Wait!" from behind stalls him. Twilight emerges holding a candle via magic, dressed in a light blue night gown. "Go back to bed, Spike. I'll take care of this".

He grumbles and stumbles away, back to wherever he sleeps. Twi beckons you inside and you follow her up to her room, where she offers you a seat on her bed before sitting on her haunches in front of you, inspecting you quizzically.

"Oh Twilight, I've ruined everything." You place your head in your hands and feel tears welling up inside as the unicorn regards you, trying to figure out what might have occurred.

"Please, tell me."

She says it softly and leaves the request hanging in the silence, expectant, knowing that she can't force anything out of you.

It comes rushing out and you don't know where to start but you do and you tell the whole story from the beginning, during your teenage years when you saw My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic for the first time. You tell her about your studies and advancement in the sciences, the world that you come from which is so different yet so similar to this one in so many ways.

She doesn't interrupt the whole time, not even when you start talking about esoteric formulae and theory that had allowed you to make it this far, though you can see the intense scientific curiosity apparent on her face. She sits silent, listening, as you tell of how you betrayed your species to come here, and not just your species, but your family and friends and dependents.

Now the tears really are running down your face, leaving saline trails down your cheeks and arms as they stream across the cradle you hold your head in.

You manage to get to the end and she still hasn't said a word, even after you talk about how you arrived here and lied to them about your memory and origins and apologize to her for the first time.

When you get to what just occurred with Applejack, the only response you receive is a slight intake of breath, and you realize how you must finish your story, in order to remain truthful. So that you don't lie, to not make that mistake again.

You say, "I'm sorry, Twi. I'm sorry, and I really really like you and I don't want to leave if you're here and-"

"Hush. Come here, look at me."

She puts a hoof underneath your chin and lifts your face so that you are eye-to-eye with her, peering into each other's souls.

Your faces inch towards the other and it isn't long before you are pressed against her muzzle, displaying all your passion for her and you aren't sickened this time but overjoyed. Then she's climbing onto your lap and you're running your hands down her sides and through her mane and stroking her fur as your mouths work together in mutual affection. You're rubbing her belly and she's got a hoof on your groin and you're pressing closer and harder and then your hand slides over one of her teats and she lets out a gorgeous sigh at the pressure.

For a terrible few moments the two of you are separated from contact as you undress yourself and she gets into a comfortable position on the bed, with her flank sticking out.

A few more moments, and your heart is racing as your mind tumbles in confusion. You feel your head enter the warmth of the mare before you; your stomach churns, roiling as you once more feel the acid of disgust rising into your chest, into your throat, threatening to take over.

Twilight slides back onto your rod and moans sweetly—you feel the bile recede at the purity of the sound—she turns her head back and gazes at you with luminescent eyes. They shimmer brightly with joy.

The disgust is vanished and for the first time you know to your very essence that mantra which you had been repeating unconsciously, allowing your cultural bias to be overridden: this is a beautiful, intelligent and wonderful person. Not just an animal! Not just a horse!

"Twilight!"

You shout as her tunnels tighten around your slick connection. The rush of blood underneath skin can be felt as you writhe within her tight clench.

You reach one hand down towards her belly and fondle a lovely teat, pinching and twisting the nipple gently while your other hand keeps a firm grip on her lavender flank, caressing and guiding her body back and forth across your cock. You move from her teat back towards the sex and flick her sensitive nubbin, feeling the spasms of ecstasy wreak her body.

Twilight moans again and shudders, collapsing from her hooves onto the bed, her rump hanging off delectably. Her mare juice covers your abdomen and swollen member and you drop to your knees to gaze directly at her unfolded petals, the glistening opening of her marehood.

Grabbing her sides on the Cutie Mark, you lean towards her warm buttocks and flick your tongue across her lower lips, tasting her dripping flower. You run your tongue vertically around her folds, up and down, circling smaller and smaller spirals until you are simply writhing in her hole, prodding it, making love to Twilight's slit with your tongue.

One hand moves down to her belly and starts fondling her teats again while the other comes up to replace your tongue. You insert one finger and twist it around, moistening your skin before you slip in a second and a third.

Now your hand moves from her teats and to her clit and both of them are working on her sex, one pumping with three of your fingers and the other slapping her pink button.

Twilight cums again, this time across your hands and splattering past them to your face and chest, and she turns around with the fading orgasm visible in her eyes.

She smiles and says, "I know you've been working on me so far, let me return the favor." She follows up with a full, sloppy kiss against your mouth, tongue included. Then she slides her lips down your body, planting soft mare-kisses until she reaches your throbbing, engorged member.

You're more turned on than you've ever been in your life. Not only are you having great sex but it's with Twilight Sparkle, the amazingly beautiful brainiac pony. And her lips are wrapped around your cock and she's humming contentedly, sending vibrations through you as she fondles the opening on your tip with her tongue...

She sucks your mushroom head like a straw and you place your hands on the back of her head behind her ears, your fingers in her flowing mane, and start guiding her as she sucks on your manhood.

She gnashes her teeth lightly against your skin but not in a painful way; it is almost ticklish with the delicacy she envokes. You feel your cock pushing into her throat, a little further with each back-and-forth motion.

You see her eyes start to water a little and you haven't been forcing her at all, but of her own volition she pushes deeper and whines for you to help.

"Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you..."

She pulls off your penis to reply, "Please, I want to go deep. I want to do this for you. Hold me against you until I can't breathe, I want to choke on you, to be filled up all the way with your love, to feel you as much as I can, in every way."

Your response is to lean down and kiss her, tracing her jawline with your fingers. You can taste the salt of your pre-cum in her mouth, mixed with the distinct flavor of her saliva. You break apart and stand again, tapping her cheek with your shaft, for fun, just to see her face against your cock before she wraps around you again.

She guides you by your sensitive appendage until your knees ram against the bedframe and you're falling back, catching yourself on your elbows. She puts her hooves on your thighs and now she's truly going down on you as you gaze across your stomach at the wonderful sight.

Then you remember what you are supposed to do and you grab the back of her head and start moving her forwards and back.

You can feel yourself building to climax and she forces herself down until you can feel the resistance in her throat—she is three-fourths the way down—so you obey her orders and push her until her muzzle is touching  your stomach, her lips at your base. You see yourself bulging in her neck and her eyes are watering but she isn't pushing back against you so you keep your hands on her head as she stuffs herself.

A tingling builds near your tailbone and travels through your body, coursing until it reaches your shaft. As if she can feel what is happening, Twilight pulls back, spluttering for air as you release your load into her mouth.

You gasp and fall backwards on the bed, your feet planted on the ground off the edge. Twilight swallows and starts suckling on your ballsack, causing you to writhe with pleasure, accentuated by the recent spending of your seed.

"Twilight, wow... Ungh..." Your body is twitching uncontrollably as she rolls your testicles in her mouth, "Twi... Ah.... I... Twilight Sparkle, I love you..."

You feel the touch leave your nethers and she pops above the bedframe to look at you. Her eyes are wide and she clambers up until her forehooves are on either side of your head and she's looking down with that bright face, the hair of her mane hanging around the two of you like a beaded curtain.

She kisses you again and you wrestle here down onto the bed in your embrace so that the two of you are spooning on your sides, with you in back. Now she's laying in the contours of your body and you have easy access in the back, so you slip into her and lay there, just reveling in the connection. She grinds her cute butt around a little for extra stimulation, but the two of you are perfectly happy in the most intimate of hugs.

You're murmuring sweet things into her ear and nibbling on her neck as you stroke her belly and wiggle your member inside her womb. One of your hands is fondling the top of her slit lazily and Twilight is squirming at your touch, for you are focusing on all the right spots.

You slide out and she whines at you but you get to your knees and draw her from her side so that her butt is sticking in the air and she's leaning down, her forehooves and head low to the bed. Her flank is at your eye level now and she's whimpering while she waits for you to start doing something.

You bring your tongue to the puckered brown hole above her slit and touch the rim with your moist appendage.

Like a jolt of electricity, Twilight is shocked at the inappropriate sensation and out of reflex her hooves connect mightily with your chest; you soar through the air and into the far wall, collapsing in a wrecked heap. Only the throbbing of a broken chest remains as you black out from the violent force.

.

.

.

.

An alarm is blaring and you open your eyes, feeling sticky warmth beneath your covers. Tears stream down your face as you realize the whole thing was a wet dream, and you’re actually a 16 year who needs to get ready to take the bus to school.