Months have passed since joining Diamond Tiara's and Silver Spoon's game. Button Mash keeps going back wanting more.
Button Mash is—or rather, was—an avid gamer. After an incident with some punks a few months ago, he's more interested in a different kind of activity now. Instead of playing with consoles, controllers, and cartridges by himself, his after school activities consist of dresses, hormones, and kinky sex with his new playmates. Now, Button must balance his school life and the out-of-control spiral his other life has taken on.
Trigger Warnings: A story that is more than just clop, a serious take on transgender issues, anthro, crossdressing, futa, forced feminization, transitioning, questionable romanticism
“So how is school?” Molly Coddle asked, her concern for her son carrying well over the phone. “It’s been a while since we last spoke, and last time you said you wanted to come home because nobody likes you. Are you still having problems?”
Button laughed, toying idly with the phone cord. “N-nah, Mom, I’m fine now,” he stuttered, momentarily lapsing into the feminine voice Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara insisted he use while dressed en femme. “I’ve even made some friends that helped me with a bully problem!”
He of course had no intention of explaining to his mother the nature of his friendship. It was awkward just thinking about the questions his mother might ask if he mentioned that both of his friends were women, never mind how he met them. Explaining the new ‘hobby’ the two had introduced him to was completely out of the question, even if it would be fun to hear her reaction.
“So Button, are you still obsessing over your video games, or have you picked up a new interest?” the mental image of his mother asked, eager to catch up with him.
“Nah, video games are boring, Mom. I’d rather dress like a woman and let my friends screw me with strap-ons,” Button imagined back, eying a bag atop of his dresser. “If I take all my pills, and do everything they ask, they’ll sometimes let me eat them out!”
“... weekend?” his mother’s voice cut through his musings.
He realized that he completely ignored what his mother was saying in favor of shockingly candid thoughts. Before he met Diamond and Silver, he’d never once thought of speaking to his mother that way. Where had any of that come from, anyways? “Sorry Mom, I was a bit distracted. Could you repeat that?”
“I said that I was going to be in Canterlot at the end of the month and was wondering if you wanted to spend some time catching up that weekend,” she said in a disappointed tone. “You’re playing your Joy Boy right now, aren’t you?”
“Sorry, I’m just thinking about my plans for later this afternoon,” Button admitted, allowing his thoughts to drift. Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had invited him to their dorm room to meet a ‘very special friend’, so he wanted to stop by a hair salon before showing up. By the sound of it, they’d finally set him up with a date. “I’m pretty sure I’m free that weekend, so I’d love to catch up with you then.”
Molly didn’t respond immediately, and when she did, she sounded off. “I see.”
Had he said the wrong thing? Oh! It had to be the ‘I’d love to.’ That’s definitely far too feminine and outside what she was used to hearing from him. He’d been doing that a lot lately—just talking and then suddenly getting a weird look from someone for his choice in wording. Try as he might though, it was becoming harder and harder to speak like a guy with Diamond Tiara drilling him on femininity.
“I guess I’ll see you then. Does Pony Joe’s sound good to you?”
Nodding, Button strode over to the phone’s receiver. “Sure thing, Mom,” he answered, trying to expedite the conversation. “Gotta jet. The guys are waiting for me, and I need to get showered.”
Unceremoniously, he dropped the handset back on the receiver. Normally, he wouldn’t behave that way, but he really did need to hurry. Not only did he need to get showered, but he also needed to find a bathroom outside the men’s dorm to get changed in before hitting the hair stylist’s for his appointment.
Diamond Tiara always got cross with him if he showed up without makeup—or worse, not in the prearranged outfit. As exciting as it was to be taken shopping with a vibe tucked firmly away in his bottom, it wasn’t all that fun. They put a stopper in his urethra and made him wear a pad in his panties in case of leakage. There was a lot of it that day, and he was pretty sure the pegasus beside him on the bus on the way back could smell it on him. She just gave him this disgusted look and muttered something about sluttiness. The embarrassment that day was more than enough to ensure there were no repeat performances.
Shuddering at the memory, Button shucked his shorts into the hamper before making his way into the ensuite bathroom. After meeting the ladies and getting into that whole scene, he was rather thankful that he’d been placed on his own. It’d certainly be a lot harder to hide his habit if he couldn’t just leave things lying in plain sight. No more panties and training bras mixed in with his regular underwear, no leaving bottles of Equestradiol on the corner of the sink.
Remembering the pills, Button paused in front of the sink and looked at himself in the mirror. In the months since agreeing to be Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara’s toy and beginning a regimen of the pills and a special body-lotion, he’d noticed his body changing. His face had become softer and less angular, and his eyelashes had thickened quite a bit. What had once been simply a messy long mane was now well kept and silky, although he reckoned it was less about the pills there, and more about the care he put into it. He often got called pretty-boy because of it, but that didn’t bother him.
Then of course, there was his chest. After the first month or two, he’d noticed it had become incredibly soft and tender. The nipples had grown especially sensitive, and the flesh below was definitely beginning to swell. There was no mistaking what was happening there; he was growing breasts.
Of course, Button was no moron; he knew exactly what was happening. The pills Diamond had given him were hormones, and the longer he took them, the more feminine his body would become. It probably wasn’t the most legal thing, this part of their arrangement. So long as he continued to be their toy, they would continue to make him their girl. Sure, eventually he’d have to come out about the hormones and be placed in the women’s dorm—the dorms were not co-ed, and the school felt it safer for transitioning women to live with the rest of the female population than risk incidents—once he reached a certain point. He’d cross that line when it came to it.
After popping a few pills in his mouth and washing it down with a glass of water, he climbed into the shower and began scrubbing his coat and conditioning it. He honestly thought he was getting the better part of the deal here—what with the way they kept him supplied with clothes, personal hygiene products and hormones—and couldn’t for the life of him figure out what they got out of it beyond having somebody they could assert dominance over and be pleasured by. It was a bit unnerving not knowing their motive, but... he couldn’t deny that he’d started enjoying himself a long time ago.
In a way, he thought as he shampooed his mane, they’ve done me a lot of good. While he still indulged in the odd session of gaming, he found it much easier to focus on other things now. The routines regimens and practices instilled upon him by his beautiful benefactors had allowed him to focus on more important things; like his appearance, schoolwork, mannerisms, and so-on, leaving what was once an obsession as little more than a pastime. In just over a month, his grades had gone from barely passing to mediocre and a month after that, he even found himself getting ahead of the class. It was almost as though Silver Spoon was grooming him to be a better, smarter pony.
“I still don’t understand why they’re doing this, though,” he whispered to himself as he rinsed the suds from his body. Button shook his head gently as he wrapped his mane up in a towel and began patting himself dry. He took extra care not to muss up his coat, because it made applying the body lotion so much easier. “I’m sure it doesn’t matter. They were unpleasant when they were younger, but ponies change. It was a strange way to get into helping me, but what’s important is that they are helping me.”
} 01 {
The cafe that Button had chosen to get changed in was such a busy little place that the baristas scarcely noticed you if you weren’t a regular, and the customers weren’t interested in anything but themselves. Just to prove it, Silver Spoon had once accidentally spilled her cappuccino on him in order to create an excuse for him to get changed in a public place. Nobody noticed a thing, even when a guy with a bag walked into the handicapped bathroom and a girl walked out. Since then, he’d changed there no less than five times without being caught.
Just as he had in the past, he slipped in the entrance nearest the bathrooms. Button made certain nobody around had noticed him and sauntered straight for the handicap-unisex restroom. The room was unoccupied, to his great relief, so he stepped in and slid the door’s lock into closed position.
Wasting no time, he stepped up to the sink, dropping his garment bag beside him. Just as casually as they’d gone on before he stepped out of his dorm room, so too did they come off, discarded irreverently around his hooves until he was in nothing but panties. Should it bother me that I so carelessly discard my masculinity like clothes in favor of pleasure? he wondered, watching himself in the mirror. He glanced at his panties, pink silk this time, and felt a twinge in his cock as he struck a pose that deliberately hid the minute bulge. Is it wrong that seeing myself like this turns me on?
He leaned down, picking up the bag from the floor and placing it on the countertop before him. Upon opening it, something Diamond Tiara once said to him came to mind. “If you’re going to wear tight clothing or a skirt that someone can see up, you have to learn how to tuck,” she had said while cradling his panty-ensconced groin in one hand. “It’s not hard at all; let me show you.”
Acting on the memory of her careful, if not teasing, instruction, he pulled the panties half-way down his thighs and very gingerly placed his left hand over his groin. With his index and ring fingers, he pressed up on his testicles, forcing them gently back into the cavity they’d descended from during puberty. With his testicles out of the way, he had room to work with his penis. Pressing his dick down and behind him by his middle finger, he was free to reach behind with his other hand to lightly pull it back until his glans was nearly an inch away from his own buttocks.
That done, he clenched his legs shut, pulled his panties back up, and looked again at himself in the mirror. Gone was the slight bulge of his shamefully small dick. Instead, the loose skin of his sack had bulged around his tucked cock, providing a slight cameltoe to be accentuated by his panties, whose just-right tightness held everything firmly in place. It wouldn’t hold up to any vigorous activity, but for casual appearances it would be fine. There was no longer a runty, nineteen-year-old crossdresser in the mirror, but the cute, underdeveloped young mare often seen accompanying Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon while off campus.
Next, Button pulled a skirt from the garment bag. It was a crimson affair with highways of black intersecting every so often. Normally, he’d have thought such a color clashed with his coat, but he trusted the girls in their ability to pick an outfit that suited him.
After the skirt was on, there was a padded bra and a long, collarless white button-up blouse waiting for him. He wasted no time putting on the bra, and decided not to tuck the blouse into the skirt. He thought it was cuter if the blouse flowed over the skirt like a layered dress. With the way the hem was ruffled, it almost felt right to have it this way. It definitely cut a far more feminine figure than before.
The next article of clothing actually had him momentarily perplexed. It was a jacket, but it seemed almost too small for an adult. In fact, until he actually tried putting it on, he thought this was a joke. But no, it was a greyish-red button-down midriff jacket. The sleeves didn’t feel quite right going all the way down his arm, so on a whim, he rolled the sleeves up to form a cuff just above his elbows.
It looks good, but there’s something missing, he thought. Rooting through the bag once more, Button found a pair of black-rimmed glasses, the pink purse he always wore en femme, and gartered thigh-highs to go with the pair of converse sneakers he wore in. Once everything was on, the girl in the mirror looked like the stereotypical geek chick. Totally my type.
Before he could do up his mane, strike any poses, or adjust his tail beneath the skirt, there came a loud rap on the door. The voice of an elderly stallion soon followed. “Hello? Is there someone in there? I have other customers that need this room too, you know.”
Oh crap, Button thought as a squeak of alarm escaped his throat. What do I do? Glancing around in panic, he realized his guy clothes were still all over the floor. “J-just a minute!” he stammered, scrambling to shove all his belongings back into the bag. Zipping it up and tossing it over his shoulder, he ran over to the tap to wet his hands, and dried them with a paper towel before noisily depositing it in the bin. Without further ado, he pulled the door open to face the room’s next occupant. “S-sorry, sir, I j-just—”
The large stallion, graying and wheelchair bound, squinted at Button through thick lensed glasses. Even in the chair, he was still at eye-level with the crossdressed pony. “You don’t look handicapped, young lady,” he said in a stern tone. “When a young mare like yourself is hiding in the handicapped restroom, it’s either something naughty, something illegal—” Button began to blush and glance nervously back into the bathroom. “—or something embarrassing.” When Button could only sputter, the old fellow grumbled and impatiently thumbed his ID badge. “Well, spit it out, young lady, or I’ll ban you from my shop.”
“P-please don’t make me say it!” Button squeaked girlishly. Tears spilled down his cheeks as he ducked behind his loose mane. Of all the times to get caught. “It’s gross; you’ll think I’m disgusting.”
The stallion’s glower softened at the fear in Button’s voice. “Easy little lady, I’m sure it isn’t that bad,” he said with a kind-hearted smile. “I’m a father; I’ve seen both my daughters born and supported them through their first estruses. Hell, since the accident that put me in this chair, I have to wear adult diapers for the rest of my life.”
“I-I... have urinary incontinence,” he squeaked, trying to wipe the tears from his cheeks. “I thought I had an accident but I wanted privacy. Nobody else knows, and I was meeting my friends nearby, so I came in here so I could make sure I could clean up if I had to.”
The last of the stallion’s ire melted away. “Ah jeez, girl.” He pivoted his chair and began to turn his back. “Get your face cleaned up and get out of here. Just make sure you buy something.”
} 01 {
“And he let you off just like that?” Silver Spoon asked, slapping her thigh and giggling like a fool. “I knew Third Mug was a softy, but I didn’t think he was gullible. I might have to remember that the next time Diamond and I feel adventurous.”
A few hours, a lightening and styling, and a trip after nearly being caught, Button was sitting on the floor in Diamond Tiara’s dorm room sipping a glass of cola while recounting what had happened. “I swear I almost believed I had bladder problems,” he replied with a girlish laugh. “I was so sure he was going to call the cops that I almost did have an accident!”
Across from him, Diamond snorted. “You certainly seem to work well under pressure,” she said, stirring her own cola idly with a straw. “I seem to recall that you almost had us fooled when we all first got involved.” She began looking thoughtfully at Button and smiled. “Just think, if we didn’t have a phone, you never would have gotten to have all this fun, and we wouldn’t have gotten such a fun little toy.”
His smile fell upon hearing her comment. It didn’t bother him at all being referred to as their toy; it was obvious that it was at best a friends with benefits scenario between the three of them, even if their motive was unclear to him. That this had blossomed from blackmail hadn’t bothered him in the slightest either. What got to him was the reminder that if it weren’t for Snips and Snails tossing his Joy Boy into a women’s restroom, he’d still be barely getting by. Too focused on his video games to properly socialize, he never would have gotten close to dating a girl; now he had kinky sex with two beautiful women on a fairly regular basis.
“I’ll take being your sissy toy over being that wimpy nerd any day,” he answered resolutely after a moment’s pause. “If not for everything you’ve done for me, I’d still be the loser everybody else still sees me as. Now, I have the confidence to stand up to a pony like the owner of the cafe. You taught me how to work hard to improve myself.” With a teary smile, he added, “Instead of just sitting at home playing games, I’m actually studying hard to put my love of them to good use. The d-pad on my hips won’t just be a mark of indolence anymore.”
Button leaned forward and pulled Diamond and Silver Spoon into a hug. “You girls are the best thing that ever happened to me. I’d do anything for you.”
His hostesses pulled away after the hug lingered for too long and exchanged a look. “Anything?” Diamond asked, seemingly unsure of what she’d just heard. At his nod, she grinned at Silver. “Well, you already know we had planned on introducing you to another of our special friends today—”
“After all, you almost seemed like you were getting bored of the strap-on the last time we played,” Silver Spoon interjected.
“—but there’s no reason we can’t make this extra exciting,” Diamond continued. “You know how I always have my camera phone out during our little sessions, right?”
Button swallowed hard as his eyes darted between the two women in front of him. Unsure of where this was going, he nodded. “Yeah...”
“I was going to leave this as a surprise for when we had a complete box set marking your full transition from sissy colt to dickmare, but we’ve been selling the videos on a very niche pay-site online,” she said with an almost wicked glint in her eyes. “Ponies pay top bit to see you get dominated by us. The videos have singularly funded your entire less-than-legal hormone therapy, your wardrobe, and even allowed us to purchase more professional equipment.”
The color left his face as he stared at her. I’m a porn star? he thought, unsure of what that meant to him. Hundreds, if not thousands of ponies clop off to me? The thought of some stranger stopping him in the street and telling them they loved his videos kinda scared him. Someone could recognize me, tell my mom, or even Principal Celestia. I’d be expelled, disowned, or worse! “You mean strangers on the net know my face?”
“Oh, not at all!” Silver Spoon said almost too quickly. “We always blur out faces and cutie marks before we post them and voices are always distorted. Besides getting expelled if we were caught, it’d be dangerous if some creep recognized any of us in the streets, even here in Canterlot.”
That was a relief. If ponies knew he was effectively an amateur porn actor, there was some doubt as to whether he could get by normally again. More, this was all anonymous. They could film him with a stallion—the curiosity had crossed his mind more than once—and none of his classmates would find out and call him a fag or anything like that. Suddenly, being someone else’s sexual fantasy didn’t squick him out nearly as much. As if in agreement, he felt his penis stir within the silken embrace of his knickers.
“So what we’re asking,” Diamond concluded, “is whether or not you’d allow your first encounter with a pony other than the two of us to be filmed in high definition for all to see.” A surprisingly sentimental look crossed her face, and her pink-furred cheeks flushed red. “A mare’s first time should be special, and what we gave you was kinda coerced, even if you liked it in the end. At the very least, we’d like to give you the chance at some privacy.”
Privacy would be nice, reasoned his mind as he watched Silver Spoon fidget with her hair. This first time with a stranger will be, if nothing else uncomfortable. Having them there would feel a little weirder, especially if they just filmed it and didn’t get involved.
Picking up the forgotten glass of cola, he sipped eagerly at the sweet beverage to bide his time. They were definitely turning a tidy profit off this if they could afford to splurge and spoil him so, and he did find all of this strangely exciting, even with the irreversible and admittedly non-consensual changes being made to his body. It didn’t matter if this had only been for their own twisted sexual enjoyment; they were giving him a chance to be something more than he had been. Was it right to deny them the ability to continue make this all reality?
“If it’s just me and them, then yes, the camera can stay,” he said after the silence had grown uncomfortable. Both mares sighed in relief. “But I do want an unedited copy, and whatever you’re advertising me as, I want that name changed to Dee for the d-pad on my flank. Also, once the profits from the videos allow it, I’d like a cut too.”
Diamond Tiara flinched as though she’d just been slapped. “What?” she blurted out. “After all we’ve given you? Ungrateful—”
To Button’s surprise, the silver mare across from him came to his defense before he could explain himself. “Let’s hear him out before we leap to conclusions.” She stared at Diamond until the pink vixen relented and nodded. “I’m curious too, Button. Why would you want a cut in addition to the hormones?”
He smiled and tugged gently on the hem of his blouse. “I’m going to need to buy a completely new wardrobe eventually,” he said. “It won’t be long until I have to come out as a transmare and be moved into the girls’ dorm. Just look at me after three months!” His hand traced up his hip and side, crossing his chest and up his to face. “I don’t know if these hormones are magically enhanced or what, but if I look like a really boyish girl after three months, how will I look in another three? Six? A year? Besides, if I’m your toy, the hormones are just equipment maintenance, right?”
The two mares shared a look and blinked. “I don’t get it, Silver,” Diamond muttered. “How does being trained as our sissy toy make him so... charismatic?” She cast a worried glance at Button. “He was such a wimp!”
“Self-confidence? Hope?” Silver shrugged. “Do you think maybe we’ve created a monster?”
Button smiled. “I can still hear you both.” He imitated Silver Spoon’s own shrug, noting that in his forward-leaning position, the action pressed together the two pads on his chest. In who knew how long, that could very well be real flesh instead of silicone inserts. “Besides, I didn’t say right now. Your fathers are both successful business ponies, so you know how conditional that offer really is.”
“Fine,” they both said in unison. Then Silver added, “What say we set up the cameras and call in your new friend, hmm?” Her smile broadened and a perverse twinkle filled her eyes. “She’s so eager to meet her new playmate.”
While Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon met with his new playmate out in the hall, Button felt a once-over in the mirror was a must. His generous, albeit snobby friends deemed this pony worthy enough to either play with them, or at least one of their toys, so it wouldn’t hurt to make sure he was looking his best. First impressions and all that, he thought wryly.
Stepping up to the vanity table, a seeming neutral territory between the two sides of the dorm room, he dropped his purse down on the surface. Applying some lip gloss from his clutch, he couldn’t help but smile as something Silver Spoon had said came to mind. “She’s so eager to meet her new playmate.” She, as in a woman. Could it be that they were throwing him a bone before his was completely useless?
It really should bother me that this is happening to me, he thought as he adjusted the glasses Silver Spoon had provided for his outfit. At the same time, though, I can’t deny that this feels right. It might not have started out as my choice, but I chose to let it get this far. Sure, the sodomy felt a bit gay at first, and I never would have myself pegged for trans, but just look at me! Pirouetting, he smiled at his reflection. I’m much more confident, I’m hanging around with actual ponies, and besides; I’m fucking cute!
“Oh thank God,” said someone behind him, startling him free of his musing. “With the way they kept going on, I thought for sure they were going to set me up with some stallion.” Wait, why would you expect a stallion here?
Button whipped around in alarm, fearing what he might see. He’d certainly heard that voice enough over the PA over the last year and a half at Canterlot Higher Education Institute to recognize it. The dulcet tones that announced all student council related news reminded him every day of a missed opportunity. It could only belong to one pony he knew. Pink and lilac tresses—once curly and parted above her horn in childish mimicry of her sister’s signature look—greeted him, now pulled back in a no-nonsense bun. Those unmistakable green eyes, surrounded by an ocean of milky-white fur.
“S-sweetie Belle!?” Button squeaked, trying to wrap his head around the fact that his childhood friend was the one Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon wanted him to have sex with.
The unicorn mare in the doorway blinked in surprise, and then furrowed her brow. “I feel like I should recognize you, but I can’t figure out where I would know you from,” she said, crossing her forearms. Beneath her casual blue sundress, her rather ample bosom bulged out over her arm, seemingly taunting him. Her horn glowed for a few seconds, as if to cast a spell, but he saw no indication of a spell being directed his way. Memory charm maybe? “Are you one of the freshman councilmen, by any chance? I wouldn’t usually forget a cutie like you, but with so many quitting and joining the council lately...”
“You, you don’t recognize me? Not even a little” he asked in a hurt voice. Why did I say that? Do I really want her to know I’m me? If Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon were beautiful, Sweetie Belle was drop-dead sexy. Finding out that she had a similar relationship to the one he had with them was strangely exciting. At the same time though, she was a treasured childhood friend. Could he really have sex with her?
The pain in his voice drew her attention fully to him. Striding over, out of the doorway, Sweetie came to a stop just inches from Button, towering over him by a full head. She’d definitely grown since they were both kids. “You almost remind me of a boy I grew up with,” she said with a frown. “But you could barely get him away from his video games without him having a panic attack, never mind getting him into the women’s dorm. Besides, he’d never get involved with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon like I did.”
A grin settled across his face at her words. “You don’t think so?” he said, dropping his feminine tone and removing his glasses, discarding them onto the vanity. Hearing her imply that he couldn’t be like he was felt like a challenge. I did get involved with them, and I can make you feel good. “You’d be surprised how life throws you a curveball.”
She blinked, staring unbelieving at the pony before her. “Button? What... why are you dressed like that?”
A manicured finger came to rest on her lips as he reached up to silence her. “You and I probably do very similar things with them; does it really surprise you that they’d do something kinky like this?” he whispered. “Right now, though, I’m not Button, and you’re not Sweetie.” Removing his finger from her lips, he reached down and undid the top button, revealing a bra strap as he pulled one side of his blouse away. “I’m just a sissy toy being shared between friends right now.”
The backs of her legs bumped into the foot of Silver Spoon’s bed, impeding her disbelieving retreat. Catching sight of the camera aimed in that direction, Sweetie frowned. “What did they do to you, Button?” she whispered under her breath. “Doesn’t this feel wrong to you? We grew up together; you’re practically my brother!” Quieter, she added, “I don’t want you to see this side of me.”
He giggled girlishly as he slipped back into his newly-christened Dee role. “They taught me that just because something feels wrong, it doesn’t mean that it can’t feel good, too.” She hadn’t expected him to be so forward, so she had no manner of preparation when he suddenly pushed her back. Adorably, she clutched the front of her dress tightly against her rather than attempting to break her fall, protecting her modesty and depriving him of a panty-shot in the process. “Let me show you.”
Button joined her on the bed, slowly climbing up over her legs and planting his knees on either side of her hips. “Tell me you don’t want this,” he whispered as he traced circles on her belly with his fingertip. When she mewled pitifully at his teasing touch, a memory struck him. “They always say they don’t want it at first,” he said, repeating the words from one of his first training sessions with Silver. “You just have to show them how much they really want it.”
His palms came to rest on her waist, and he slowly, sensuously dragged them up her body, pulling the dress up as he went. With every upward inch, he dug his fingertips in just enough to provide some pressure, eliciting a moan from her as she arched her back in response to his teasing. He was met with no resistance when it came to removing the dress entirely; she blushed slightly as her breasts were bared, but obediently put out her arms out to allow it to slide freely over her head.
He stared down at her body, marveling at how different Sweetie was from Diamond or Silver. If his mistresses were petite and lithe like dancers, his new playmate was an Amazonian princess. Besides being tall for a mare, she had wide, child bearing hips. Despite being in the music program, she looked to be incredibly fit, and it felt like he was only in charge because she let him. Then there were her breasts. Silver and Diamond’s were only As and BBs respectively, while Sweetie’s were like two gigantic mounds of ice cream capped with nice rosy-pink cherries. Surely they were at least an E.
All of this was ripe for the picking—all his. As he felt his member harden within its silken sheath, his instincts told him to dive right in and take this mare right then and there. Fortunately, Silver Spoon’s training stayed his hands. Instead, he leaned forward, pressing his body into hers and easing his face into the curve of her neck.
Taking a deep breath, he let out a moan of his own. “Your scent is intoxicating,” he purred as he nuzzled her neck. He snaked his hands behind her, slowly running them up her back and neck. “What perfume are you using?”
“It’s, uh, it’s—ah!” she cried out as his fingertips found the edge of one of her ears. “I can show you if you just—” Pinching the apex between his index finger and his thumb, he rubbed her ear tenderly, just as Silver Spoon had shown him. “Oh whatever you’re doing, don’t stop!”
Button giggled into her neck. “But if I don’t stop teasing your ears, how will I show you how well my mistresses trained me?” he asked pleadingly as he traced a finger down the other side of her neck. “I am, after all, trained for your pleasure.”
Sweetie moaned as he gently nipped her shoulder. He felt her move one of her arms and imagined she was biting into a finger to keep herself from crying out. “What have they been doing with you?” she whined as he bit down gently once more, just above her collarbone this time. “They just make me have sex with them until they’re f—unh! Why are you so good at this?”
Pulling away from her shoulder, he looked up at her with a playful glint in his eyes. “Mistress Silver says if you want to be a girl, you must know how to please one,” he replied. He knew he was going to regret this next statement but it only felt right to give fair warning. “I apologize if this next part is unsatisfactory; Mistress Diamond is the largest I’ve been permitted to work with and breast play isn’t a big portion of our sessions.” He moved down her body and pressed his cheek against her bosom. “I hope mine might get to be this big one day, Sweetie; they’re so nice and soft.”
He popped her left nipple into her mouth and began to roll it tenderly between his tongue and teeth. With one breast occupied, it seemed unfair for the other to be left alone, so he brought up his right hand and started softly rolling and kneading it as though it were pastry dough. With each suckle and each squeeze, he felt himself growing fully erect and straining against his panties.
“I don’t get why you would want to be a girl,” she said between gasps. “Why would you want huge boobs like mine?”
Looking up at her with lustful candor, he said, “They’re sexy; you’re sexy. I want to feel sexy too.”
“Guys can be sexy too,” she moaned as he gently pinched her right nipple. To his ears, it sounded like she was trying to convince herself rather than him. “Nnnnh, stop for a minute. I’m trying to be serious.” Groaning, he allowed her to push him away. “Why do you have to be a girl to feel sexy?”
He looked at her pensively for a minute before frowning. “Like this, I feel confident. I’m not afraid to speak my mind,” he replied, rocking back to grind against his erection her knee. “It’s so exciting... being treated like a mare instead of a loser colt.”
“You weren’t like this when we were little,” she whispered sadly.
Placing his palm against her white cotton-clad pubic mound, he smiled. “And you weren’t like this when we were little,” he chided, rubbing his hand back and forth. Button grinned and brought up his hand to show her the strands of sticky arousal stretched between his fingers. “Someone’s enjoying this more than she lets on.”
He offered her his hand more in teasing jest than any expectation and was genuinely surprised to see her take his fingers into her mouth. The wet warmth of her oral cavity was second only to the exciting sensation of her tongue flicking across every inch of his fingers. When she pulled it away, all the marecum that had coated his fingers had been replaced by her saliva.
For a split second, Sweetie Belle’s eyes crossed as she swallowed, and then a lewd smile split her face. “You’re right,” she admitted, clasping her breasts in her hands and squeezing them gently together. “I’ve never really liked boys in that way, but looking at you dressed like this... It’s so... erotic.”
Releasing her chest, she reached down and—with a combination of magic and her superior strength—pulled him up until his face was right in front of hers. Button didn’t need an invitation; he leaned into her and pressed his lips against hers. She slid her tongue into his mouth, wrapping his in hers and sharing with him her tangy, sweet flavor, before pulling away. “I hope you’re ready for a big surprise, because I’m not stopping now.”
Button sat up in confusion and was just about to ask what she meant when something prodded his pantied bottom. Raising himself off of her entirely, he nearly squealed in equal parts alarm and delight as he looked at her groin. Her panties, once tight against her body, strained to contain a very large erection that simply couldn’t be there.
Yet there it was, a penis as long as his forearm, leaking precum through her panties, and it looked as though it was still growing. The scent in the air—one he’d smelled enough times at the end of his sessions with Diamond and Silver when his panties were absolutely filled with cum—was unmistakably male. How is this possible?
He opened his mouth to ask, only for his voice to die in his throat. “You’re wondering about my little friend here, aren’t you?” She caught the waistband of her underwear with her thumbs and freed the pink pillar of flesh. He watched as it slapped up against her belly, coming up just barely between her breasts. “I got this when I turned ten. Apple Bloom tried to make me taller with one of her potions. Not only did she turn me into a guy for a week; this little fellow decided to stick around.” She ran her hand down the slick length, smearing it with pre and moaned. “I don’t have my clit any more, but sometimes this is way better.”
Barely a word of it reached him. His eyes were fixed on Sweetie’s dick. It was like it was calling to him. Play with me, it begged, twitching with excitement. Not only that; compared to this gorgeous beast, his was absolutely miniscule. It was frankly intimidating in that respect. He reached out a trembling hand to give it a stroke, to confirm that it was real, but pulled it back when it twitched. “May I... touch it?”
“Of course you can touch it,” she said in a tone that reminded him far too much of her older sister. It was a tone that made what she said less a suggestion than it was something expected of him. Any power that he had was gone now; she was fully in control. “You did make it hard, after all, and it wouldn’t be nice to go back on your word after insisting you would make me feel good.”
She grabbed one of his hands and placed it on her shaft. “By the way you reacted, upon seeing this, you’re used to playing with those of others... or at least toys.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Show me what you do for them.”
Button looked up from her penis, again caught off guard. Is it a trap? A test? He nodded and, removing his hand from her cock, climbed off the bed. Taking up a kneeling position, he watched quietly as she sat up and swung her legs over the edge. He leaned down to take a lick, but his vision was tinted green as he came to a sudden stop.
“The cute glasses you were wearing,” she said, levitating the glasses over. “I want you to wear them while you do it.”
“Not the strangest request,” he whispered, accepting the proffered article. Once the fake lenses were resting on his face and Sweetie nodded her approval, he leaned forward once more and kissed the tip of her cock as he wrapped a hand around the base. His mouth slowly opened, permitting his tongue to dance across the slick surface. If her marehood had a sweet taste, her cock was earthier, with a vinegary kick that reminded him of salad dressing. It was a tad bitter, but not unpleasant.
He moaned his approval into her flesh, eliciting a cry of her own. Taking that as his go signal, he led his tongue on an adventure down her shaft, occasionally stopping to trace out a random letter or shape upon her intimidating length. She was practically shivering by the time he reached her base, and when Button forced his tongue past the waistband of her panties to lap at the top of her slit, she squealed and grabbed his hair. Sweet moisture splashed against the tip of his tongue, and the gusset of her panties grew even damper as a micro-orgasm rocked her.
Like the dog he sometimes was, he ran his entire tongue sloppily up her entire length, savoring the taste of her precum. She rewarded him with a fresh spurt into his eager mouth when he reached the top. Looking up at her from between her legs, he grinned as he took her flare into his mouth.
His tongue flicked across her urethral opening as he readied his jaw. She was much longer and thicker than what he was used to, but unlike the toys he frequently prepared this way, Sweetie Belle’s penis was a lot softer. It would yield to the tight confines of his own throat far more than the rigid rubber strap-on that had broken him in ever had. It slid into his mouth easily enough; between the pre slathering her rod and the saliva he’d applied, it reached the entrance to his throat in one easy movement.
At the same time, Sweetie released her grasp on his mane as she redirected her focus to his ears. As he had done to her before, she began tracing her fingertips up the outside curves, causing them to flick and twitch from the electric tingle of her touch. “Oooh, looks like someone else has really sensitive ears too,” she teased, switching to a massaging touch as she prodded his tonsils. “Mmmh, you shouldn’t be as good at this as you are...”
She lost control of herself for only a moment, thrusting forward with a grunt, but it was more than enough to nearly choke him. He was unprepared for the sudden thrust, and the sensation of her flare popping past his tonsils tore a panicked groan from his chest, sending pleasurable vibrations back up her shaft. Remembering what he’d been taught, he calmed himself and adjusted his body posture, straightening his throat.
Placing his hands on her round, soft bottom, he leveraged himself further onto her cock. He hummed and moaned into her shaft as inch after glorious inch slid down his throat. The medial ring had barely cleared his lips when he felt an uncomfortable pressure at the opening to his stomach. Knowing his limits, he immediately began to withdraw the length from his throat—only for Sweetie Belle to grab the back of his head.
Once more asserting her control over the situation, she bucked her hips as she held his face, forcing her cock back down his throat. With her assuming direct control, there wasn’t much that he could really do with his mouth other than sit there and play the role of her fleshlight. For all the times he had practiced fellatio on Silver Spoon’s strap-on, he’d always been the active one; never having received any stimulation from it, Silver never saw a point in thrusting. Fellatio was just a precursor to getting pegged.
“Don’t just sit there groping my butt,” Sweetie moaned. “Use your hands!”
Oh yeah, he thought, condemning his own idle mind. Sweetie was definitely a unique case to work with. With just over half her cock pistoning into his throat, there was still a sufficient amount of flesh exposed that he could jerk while she fucked his face. Not only that, but her seemingly hermaphroditic nature made it possible to pleasure her twofold. Why didn’t I think of that sooner?
Button brought up his right hand, and wrapped it around the base of her cock. When he began to rhythmically pump his hand along the slick length, he heard Sweetie’s breathing intensify as she began to moan rather loudly. “I’m so close,” she said as her fingers dug into the back of his head. “More!”
If you like that, you’ll love this, he thought, smiling inwardly. With his free left hand, he pushed aside the damp crotch of her panties and eased a finger into her wetness. His finger danced and probed her moist crevice, searching the front wall of her birth canal eagerly for the G-spot he knew had to be there. Diamond Tiara had shown him it wasn’t the exact same for all women, but if he could find it, he’d have his reward. Oh, how I want this reward.
Eventually, his probing digit found something he hadn’t encountered with Silver or Diamond; where he suspected he would find Sweetie’s G-spot, he found instead a walnut-sized nodule close to her cervix. He hummed curiously, wondering if this was what he assumed it to be. Mares don’t usually have prostates, but then again, most mares don’t have monsters like this, either.
Her entire body shivered with pleasure above him as he grazed it, and he could feel her cock begin to flare, slowly ballooning and wedging in his throat. He tried not to panic as the pressure in his throat threatened to block off his airways and instead focused doubly on what he was doing. Peering up at her with mischief in his eyes, he inserted another finger into her vagina. Up it went to join its brother right next to her prostate. With a throaty moan and a wink, he jammed his fingers into the mass.
A loud squeak was the only indicator he had that he’d just opened the floodgates. The first wave immediately followed, surging down her length. Her cock swelled even more, and without any other warning, he felt something blindingly hot splash into his throat. It began to pool quite fast, and there was really only one place it could go; discarding the last pretense of being a ‘normal’ guy—for what at all was normal about any of what he’d done?—he began greedily swallowing.
Even had her cock not already wedged itself in his throat, ready to deposit its seed, he wouldn’t have been able to escape; her legs had clenched tight around his head, the moment his fingers pressed into her nodule, holding him tight. All he could do was patiently sit as wave after wave of hot semen flooded his throat. Trying his hardest not to let any go to waste, he pumped his hand along her length, milking her cock for all it was worth. Even when he felt his belly begin to grow uncomfortably tight, he kept on swallowing. When her flare finally deflated, Sweetie Belle released his head entirely and began to withdraw until just the head was in his mouth.
Eventually, when swallowing any more threatened to rupture his belly, he opened his mouth and allowed her to fire her last strands of cum onto his face. The hot seed splashed across his visage repeatedly, coating the faux lenses of his glasses and mixing with his hair. He even managed to catch some in his mouth, which he made sure he showed her pooled on his tongue before swallowing it.
He panted heavily as he stood, noting with great pleasure that she wasn’t going flaccid. “Did I do a good job?” he asked, rubbing his swollen stomach.
“That was... wow,” she purred, flopping back onto the bed. Though Button had begun to go soft from lack of attention and oxygen, seeing that pink penile pillar laying between her breasts, still fairly rigid, was more than enough to keep him excited. “I’ve never had anyone take it before.”
“There’s still more, too,” he said. Bending over slightly, he guided his hands beneath his skirt. Down came his panties, and he looked longingly at his prize. He’d been a good little toy; he made his partner feel good, so now he was going to be rewarded. That’s how the sessions worked. “Would you like to see?”
Sweetie watched uncomfortably as he climbed back over her, positioning himself above her waist. “Button, stop.” His back was to her, so it came as some surprise when she smacked his hand away as he reached down between his legs to grab her penis. “Button! No!”
He froze at the ice in her tone. “But... I made you feel good,” he whispered dejectedly. “Did I do something wrong?”
“It’s nothing personal.” She grabbed him with her magic and sat him beside her on the bed. Her horn lit up again, and he could feel the semen peel itself out of his fur and hair. A large glob of cum floated away from him in a cloud of shimmering green, only to deposit itself in an empty glass by Silver Spoon’s bedside. “You’re... I don’t usually swing that way, and I just can’t do anal, Button.” She shook her head, brushing a stray lock of his hair out of his face. “I’ve never been comfortable receiving it, and it’s honestly kinda gross.”
As if to punctuate her point, her member slowly shrank away, as if to hide from the idea. He watched in awe as it receded back into her vulva. It just pulled itself back in as though it were completely normal for something of that size to hide out where Sweetie’s clit should have been.
“Oh.” He looked away, his face beginning to redden beneath his chocolate fur. I’ve never been unable to complete a session before. Somehow, it was hard for him to accept. All of his sessions with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon had ended with his cheeks being spread; so long as he did what they asked, they always made sure he came too. But Sweetie couldn’t press past her own barriers, and he had nothing he could offer her otherwise. “I’m not sexy enough, then? I’ve... failed?” A sniffle escaped him. “If I was a real mare... Oh, they’re going to be so upset with me!” A shiver wracked his body.
“Button, it’s okay,” she whispered, pulling him into her bust. Her fingers snaked through his mane as she tried to soothe him. “I never should have agreed to this to begin with. As soon as I found out it was you, I should have walked right back out that door.” Something warm trickled down her chest fur, and she knew instantly that he was crying now. “Shh, it’s okay.” Unsure of the right thing to say, she quietly added, “You’re a good girl.”
} 02 {
It was some time before Button cried himself to sleep. She was there with him the entire time, just holding him and comforting him. The only time she left him alone was to put her dress back on and slide his panties back up his legs after he passed out. Even then, her eyes rarely left him.
There was just something entirely off about her childhood friend. When they were little, she couldn’t get him to talk about anything other than video games, even though at the time it was a shared interest. His fixation was so bad that it was like he never even noticed her at all during puberty. Now, not only was he an apparent sex addict, but his fixation was now entirely based on making his partners—or rather, Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon—feel good. It was almost as if he had developed a psychological dependency on ‘feeling sexy’ and pleasing others—an addiction, even.
The implications of that alone were rather frightening, especially having seen him so distraught at having not having received anal—or ‘completing the scene’, as Silver Spoon often called it. And agreeing to go on camera for it? What was even going on inside his head? To say that his state of mind was worrisome would have been a colossal understatement.
For that matter, what was going through their heads when they came up with this whole scenario? They’d lied to her about her partner. She wasn’t at all attracted to stallions, and yet they did this—set her up with a sissy colt. Sure, it was sort of exciting having him go down on her, and it helped that it was somepony she at least knew, but still!
Worse, it was nearly impossible for them not to realize that he seemed to get off on anal, and she knew that they knew—because she’d told them many times—that anal was not in her comfort zone. It was downright cruel to do that to him. I thought they’d gotten over being evil little fillies, but I guess I was mistaken! Both issues left her blood seething to the point that she barely knew which she should be angrier over.
“I’m telling you, they’ve been pretty quiet for a while,” she heard Silver Spoon say as the door cracked open. “Besides, I guarantee that she didn’t—”
Sweetie clenched her fists as the two strode in the door. “What did you two do to him?” she snarled, praying desperately that she wouldn’t throw something across the room. “Are you both insane?”
Diamond Tiara, who had been moving to shut off the camera, paused mid-step at Sweetie Belle’s accusation. “What do you mean?” she asked in an almost mocking tone. “Didn’t you have fun with your new girlfriend?”
That snide BITCH! “What in the name of all that is good did you two do to his head?” she bellowed. A bright green flash filled the room and in the blink of an eye, everything in Diamond’s armoire came flying out onto the floor. “Can’t you see that there’s something seriously wrong with him? He’s practically conditioned to being your butt slut and being so eager to please that when I wouldn’t fuck him in the ass, he started to have a panic attack. His mind is all over the place!”
“Sweetie, he’s fine!” Silver Spoon interjected too quickly. “Sure, the first time was kinda-sorta blackmail, but everything after that was consensual. Just today he manipulated us for a cut from the videos. Ask him when he wakes up!”
Sweetie glared at Silver, but Diamond spoke before she could lash out verbally. “Aren’t you being a bit ungrateful?” She snorted, pressing a button on the camera. “After all we’ve done for you?”
That was it. “I thought that besides starting your own little porno empire here at the institute, you two had grown up since you were little fillies.” Her horn lit once more as she floated Button onto her back, securing his arms around her neck before grabbing his legs under her armpits. “When you both found out about my penis, you coerced me into starring in a video. In the bathroom where you caught me masturbating,” she snarled. “Whatever you did to him, it’s even worse than that.” She stomped toward the door.
“We are done with you both; you’re toxic,” she hissed. “Don’t even try to blackmail us or manipulate me into staying out of this, either. I’ve got enough dirt to get you both expelled, even if I end up going too.” Her horn lit up one last time as the door swung open. “He needs help, and it’s not something either of you seem willing to ensure he gets. Stay away from him.”
Hauling an unconscious childhood friend halfway across the women’s dorm hall was hardly what Sweetie Belle had expected to be doing this afternoon. So far as she was concerned, this entire day was an unmitigated disaster. Her anger at Diamond Tiara and Silver spoon had not lessened in the least. What they’d done was inexcusable and simply unforgivable.
Furthermore, the anger she felt kept crossing over to the idiot on her back. She wanted to yell and scream at him for allowing them to make him the way he was. What kind of idiot continued to see ponies who had ‘kinda-sorta’ blackmailed him and effectively abused him? At the same time though, she didn’t want to be angry at him for this. Not when she saw how much he needed help.
That’s why she was taking him to her room, right? She didn’t know where his room in the men’s dorm was, not that she could bring him there like this anyway. To take him there now would simply open up a whole line of questioning I don’t think he’s ready for, she thought as she came upon her door. Shifting his weight gently, she pushed open the door and sighed. I don’t even know where his other clothes are, so I don’t even know how he’s going to get back into the other dorm, unless he sneaks in after dark. Sighing to herself, she carried him into the room. I’m really in over my head with this.
It was a mere dozen steps to her bed, but under the gravity of the situation, it may well have been a mile. In spite of how heavy this burden she’d brought on herself felt, she couldn’t ignore how light he was. For a stallion—as much as he could even be called that, right now—Button was horribly light. While it was true that she was fit from volunteering at the soup kitchens and helping the orchestra set up and break down, she shouldn’t have had this much ease carrying him.
Setting him down gently on the bed, she was quickly reminded that even though he was fully grown, he was still the runt she grew up with. He wasn’t as athletic or as big as the fillies and colts around him, so he found solace in his video games. Yet here he was, skinny as a rake in spite of a sedentary hobby that by all rights should have allowed him to at least have some weight on her. What scares me is that he doesn’t.
Sweetie draped a blanket over him and, seeing no point in being a careless hostess, tucked the blanket tight around him. It was unclear to her how long he would actually be out of it, but she’d rather he was comfortable when he awoke. His stress reaction to failure this afternoon only solidified the impression that, whatever was going on, he needed some well-deserved sleep.
Just as she reached to remove the glasses still perched on his face, she heard the dorm room’s bathroom door creak open. Of course she would be in, she thought, cursing her luck. Never a nosier roommate could be found in all of Canterlot.
Turning to greet the new addition to her ever-growing stress, she gave a tired smile to the girl. “Hey Twist,” said Sweetie as she sat down on the bed beside Button. “Try not to make too much noise; my friend’s been through a lot and she needs some rest.”
The red-headed young mare stepped out of the ensuite bathroom, clenching a towel around her torso with one hand while the other ran a second one through her mane. “If you’d told me you were having a sleepover—” She strode across the room as if nothing was wrong and unceremoniously dropped both towels at her hooves, revealing her curvy, pudgy form to anyone interested. Not that she had a lot of takers. Sweetie knew most ponies overlooked her for being overweight. “—I’d have made some treats.”
Rolling her eyes, Sweetie Belle averted her eyes from Twist’s creamy, fat bottom. “No you wouldn’t,” she jibed. “You’d make some, forget what you were making them for, and either snack on them yourself, or do that creepy thing where you sneak them into a stranger’s pockets when you think nobody’s looking.” She snorted and then added, “Now put some clothes on.”
A chuckle escaped the chubby woman, and she waved her hand dismissively at Sweetie. “Fine,” she replied with a sniff, bending over as she rooted through her chest of drawers. “Far be it from me to give you some eye candy.” As the she pulled a pair of plain panties, a glance was cast over her shoulders. “You know, I can smell the sex on you both from here. If she’s been through a hard time, there’s no reason to lie to me.”
Sweetie sniffed at herself quietly and frowned. It wasn’t a lie at all. The smell of sex was readily apparent, in spite of her attempts to cleanse them. A small blessing it was that there was nobody around in the halls to comment on this as she carried Button across the hall. A greater blessing was that rather than the stench of stallion cum, the only scent about them was the musk of a wet mare. “Fine, so I forgot about my juices,” she replied, stretching with a yawn. Standing up and striding toward the bathroom, she added, “I’m going to go take a shower. Do you mind k—”
There came a gentle rapping on the door, as though the world’s largest rat was trying to find a structural weakness in the wooden barrier. Just three simple taps and then silence. Altering her course, Sweetie stopped in front of the door to peer out through the peephole. “Are you expecting anybody, Twist?” she asked, pressing her face close to the aperture. Much to her surprise, however, there was no one there. “... or our hall could be haunted. That works too, I guess.”
She pulled the door open, half expecting to find Scootaloo crouched out of sight, giggling like a little filly. It wouldn’t be the first time, thought Sweetie wryly. As much as she looked about, however, she could find neither hide nor hair of her winged, orange friend. Rather, there was a small blue duffel bag resting at her feet. Perched atop it was a small envelope, upon which was written but a single word in flowery penmanship: Button.
} 03 {
Light shone in Button’s eyes as his consciousness slowly petered back into existence. A yawn escaped him as he rolled over, trying to bury his face in the pillow propped beneath his head. Did I leave the light on before going to bed? he pondered, not really wanting to wake. I must have been some tired after yesterday’s... oh man.
He opened his eyes as the memories of yesterday’s session trickled back to him. Sweetie Belle, her magnificent cock, her refusal to reciprocate, and his ensuing panic attack—all of it was fresh in his mind. He brought a hand up and rubbed the back of it against his eyes. “Why did I have to freak out like that?” groaned Button as he pawed at his face. Ugh, I bet my eyelids are right swollen if I cried myself to sleep.
Without warning, he felt the bedding and mattress around him depress. “Hiya, Button Mash!” Somebody popped into his field of view, looming over him with a complete disregard for personal space. Her bespectacled face was practically touching his own, and her pink eyes stared down into his own with an intensity that bore some familiarity. “How come you’re dressed like that?”
In that moment of panic, brought on by the sudden realization that he wasn’t in his own room and that he had been recognized, he did the manliest thing he could think of. A girly scream of unadulterated terror peeled from his throat as he clenched his eyes shut and thrust his hands forward to push away this intruder. The hand that had been at his eyes met face and glasses, and even succeeded in pushing her back a bit, while the other sank into something large, warm, and incredibly soft. Whoever she was, she groaned—or was that a moan?—at his flimsy attempt at self preservation.
When nothing happened, he cautiously peered out from beneath swollen lids. His frizzy-haired assailant looked at him blankly, her purple horn-rims askew and her cheeks flushed. She blinked at him a few times before he tore his gaze away from her face. As luck—or misfortune, depending who was asked—would have it, he had a very generous handful of plump breast.
He felt his own cheeks redden as he tried to ignore the fact that he was currently molesting someone he didn’t really recognize. This of course was a completely futile endeavor, and a certain part of his male anatomy did as it was so often prone to, and began to inflate with blood, expanding from his sheath, tenting his panties. “I-I... this isn’t, I mean... sorry?”
“Twist, what the hell?” The shout from the far side of the room drew his attention from this awkwardly arousing event. In the doorway to what surely had to be a bathroom stood Sweetie Belle, a towel clutched loosely against her chest. Her mane hung limp and damp, clinging to her face and shoulders, and her equally damp coat glistened with moisture, as though she’d rushed out of the shower. “I asked you to not d—what in the blazes is going on here?!”
Button squeaked and pulled his hands back from the mare on top of him, both out of alarm at Sweetie’s surprise appearance and the revelation that he was accidentally feeling up another childhood acquaintance. In response to the change in weight distribution, or maybe just gravity, Twist collapsed on him pinning him to the bed beneath her breasts and her belly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
He flinched as Sweetie Belle glared at them both. “I swear, Twist! I asked you to watch over him while he slept, without waking him up, and you’re telling me you couldn’t do that one, simple thing?” she growled, pointing a finger accusingly at the mare atop him. “Get off of him!”
The other mare took on a false air of offense as she removed herself from being on top of him. “But he seems like he wants to have some fun,” she complained. A hand was waved, indicating the light tenting in the blanket about his waist. “You didn’t bring him here to share?”
Sweetie’s hand came up and covered her face from view. Her head shook and a loud sigh escaped her. “That’s morning wood!” she said, glaring out from between her fingers. “I know you know what that is because I get th—”
“Um, where exactly am I, and why does Twist know me by my real name, even though I’m supposed to be Dee?” he interrupted, sitting up on the bed. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”
“That’s actually a very good question,” Sweetie replied, alternating her gaze between the two. “How did you know?” Her eyes fixed on Button for a moment. “Wait, Dee?”
An embarrassed smile crossed her visage, and she looked away. “I may have taken just a teensy bit of a peek at the letter that came with the bag dropped at the door.” She flinched back expectantly, as though she feared reproach. “It was boring just sitting here watching him sleep, and you were in the shower, so I didn’t see the harm!”
Letter? Why would there have been a letter? Did I not take my bag with me? His eyes wandered about the room, taking in his environment. As he tuned out the arguing pair, his mind began to work. So, Sweetie Belle and Twist share a room in the women’s dorm. That means I never made it back to my room last night, if that much time has even passed. As if to confirm his suspicions, the digital clock on the bedside table read 9:13 PM. It was still Saturday after all.
I still don’t remember leaving or seeing Diamond and Silver. His hand came up almost automatically and brushed his bangs out of his face. Something must have happened after I cried myself to sleep. Since these two seem intent on arguing, maybe I should just find this letter and check it out.
As he shifted his position on the bed, he absentmindedly pinched the bridge of his nose. In spite of the letdown during their session, he felt he could trust Sweetie Belle to not blab about all of this, if not because of her own apparent relationship with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, then because of her own unique nature. She of all ponies would likely understand embarrassment. Twist though? She was an unknown.
The sound of paper crinkling beneath his hoof as he stood, stretching his sleep weakened muscles. Upon looking, he saw his hoof had come down beside his garment bag. The moment his hoof came off it and he began to lean down to pluck it off the floor, the paper casing alit with a bright green glow. As though alive, it swam through the air like a drunken faerie, landing gracefully in his waiting palm. “Thanks,” he said, not really paying Sweetie any mind as she went back to chewing out her roomie. “I wonder what it says...”
Emblazoned on the front of the envelope, he saw his name. I guess I can understand how she figured out who I am, he thought drily. Turning it over in his hands, he was unsurprised to find the seal torn. The only thing really left to do, he realized, was to stop dawdling and read the letter.
Button,
For the time being, your presence is not required for any further video sessions. It may seem hard on you, but this is for the best; you need to stay away from Diamond Tiara and myself.
This isn’t a punishment, and you haven’t done anything wrong. Rather, it is the two of us that is at fault. It came to our attention after today’s date that in your training, we have forgotten how this all began. What Diamond and I did to you in that bathroom was nothing short of a sexual assault, and Sweetie has helped us see that there are lasting scars from that encounter. We never wanted to hurt you, or for you to fear us, but I am afraid that is exactly what we have done. You are not the same colt we started out with; it’s almost as though we’ve warped your entire sense of being, and so it must stop.
Do not come to me or Diamond, and we in turn will stay away from you. What you need is help and support from those who truly care about you, not those who have abused you. Diamond reluctantly agreed to remove your videos from our webhost, and give you what proceeds remain from them. In the bag with your clothes is a cheque for two thousand bits and enough Equestradiol to last you through transition; it’s not nearly enough to make any on this up to you, but we want to show you we at least care.That being said, I advise you to decide what you want to become. We had no right to rape your body and mind. If you wish to go back to being Button, please stop taking the hormones. Either way, please seek help before it is too late.
In spite of her preferences, Sweetie Belle seems to hold feelings for you. If there is a pony you can lean on for support, it is her. You can trust her to be there for you, regardless the choice you make. Please let her help you—for your sake.
Regretfully,
Silver Spoon
The paper began to tremble as he read, becoming nearly unintelligible near the end. He tried to keep it steady, but he found it was impossible to steady the paper when it was his hands that were shaking. “This doesn’t make any sense,” he said, his voice a hoarse whimper. “They didn’t hurt me! Why do they think they hurt me?”
Whatever argument the two roommates were having screeched to a halt at his question. They both looked at him cautiously, Twist alternating her gaze from Sweetie and Button. They could both see his lower lip quiver as his eyes took on a moist sheen. When neither of them answered right away, his ears began to droop.
“Button...” Sweetie began. Her voice hitched in her throat as she struggled to find the words. “What happened today, your panic attack, was not normal. Whatever they actually did to you, they made you dependent on pleasing a partner in order to feel good. You looked uncomfortable when you were trying to bring up the courage to touch my penis, as if you were doing something wrong, and you didn’t relax until I gave you the go-ahead.
“You were all over the place, even then. The entire time, there was a look in your eye, as if you were afraid of reprisal,” she said, looking away. “I know Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon have a strange idea of no-strings sex, but fear has no place in the bedroom. The fact that you have a fear reaction at all makes it obvious that you’re traumatized to some degree.”
As though he’d just been slapped, he flinched as her words meshed with those of the letter. Was what they did to me really so horrid? he asked himself. When did I even decide any of this? His body shook as the implications of it all set in, and then, as if he’d been slapped again, another thought occurred to him. How can she talk about this so casually in front of Twist?
Twist gave Sweetie a horrified look as if to say “I don’t want to hear about that,” and backed away slowly. “I’m just going to... um...”
“Sit right there,” Sweetie Belle commanded, pointing to a spot on the bed beside Button. “I know you aren’t as much of a gossip as some, but we need your word that nobody is going to find out about this from you.”
The redhead put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a weak smile. “Button Mash, I give you my word as a mare, and hopefully your friend, that no one will hear of this from me, or my name isn’t Peppermint Twist.” With a reassuring squeeze, she turned to the lone unicorn in the room. “Sweetie Belle, I read that letter, and I can tell you’re going to have your hands full with him—or her, if that’s what Button decides. He’ll need all the support he can get.”
Button rose from the bed and absentmindedly snatched up the duffel. “I need to think,” he said quietly. “You mind if I take off?”
Sweetie Belle reached out a hand as though to stop him. “Button—”
“I know I’m probably pretty screwed up right now, but I just need to think,” he interjected, giving her an unsure smile. “I’m just going to head back to my dorm and lay down for a bit. I’ll see you tomorrow, ‘kay?”
When Button awoke to the ringing of his dorm phone, he groaned as he rose from the bed and shambled through the darkness to the table upon which the cacophonous device sat. “Mmmhullo?” he said, as he rubbed his dry eyes. Without any windows in his room, there was no natural light and no judging time outside, so his tired mind was left with nothing to base on other than it’s probably morning.
“Oh, are you just waking up?” the caller asked, her voice hesitant. “I can call back later if now’s a bad time.”
He dragged his palm down his face before glancing at the digital display on the dresser beside his bed. Apparently, it was just after noon. “You actually woke me up, but it’s fine, Sweetie Belle.” Ruffling his mane, he turned back to flick on a desk lamp. “I didn’t get much sleep last night. I think I maybe got three hours of sleep at most. What’s up?”
“I just wanted to check up on you,” she replied. From her end of the phone, he could hear the occasional clicking of a pen, and it wasn’t hard for him to imagine her sitting at the table in her dorm room, poring over an assignment as they spoke. “After everything that happened yesterday, I was kinda worried about where your head was at.”
It was... surprising to hear that from her. Yeah, Silver Spoon’s letter said Sweetie had feelings for him, but it was the way she said it; it wasn’t just a friend’s concern. She spoke like someone who would be more than genuinely hurt if something happened to him. But she said so herself; she doesn’t swing that way.
“A little worse for wear, but I’m nowhere near as bad as I was last night,” he replied after a moment’s thought. “I’m just tired more than anything else and... I guess I really don’t know what to think about all this.” Sitting on the edge of the table, he eyed the newspaper that was left open on the local events page. On it was a posting about a gaming tournament. “I kinda wanna talk about it all, but at the same time, I want nothing more than to just do something that makes me feel a bit more like me. Are you free this afternoon?”
On the other end of the line, there was a shuffling of papers and a grunt from Sweetie. “I was going to spend some time on the music program’s monthly extra credit work, but I can hang out for a bit,” she said happily. “Did you have something in mind? Or did you just wanna meet up somewhere and see where our hooves take us?”
His lips pulled up into a grin, and he couldn’t help but giggle. “Are you still as good at Hot Trot Fever as I remember?”
“Well, I still hit the arcade when I’m feeling nostalgic to see if anyone’s beaten any of my scores. Why?”
“Arcade Heaven, over on the corner Platinum and Clover is holding an open doubles HTF tourney in a few hours,” he answered happily. Sliding off the table, Button stared at the chest of drawers holding some of his feminine outfits. “You interested?”
“A tournament? Really?” The offer seemed to have caught her off guard. “I remember a colt who scoffed at being seen at such a girly tournament back when there was one in Ponyville. Why now?”
“Because now, I have a chance to reconcile what I’m becoming with who I am.”
There was a long, uncomfortable silence. “What you’re... So you’re going to keep going then?” She sounded confused and hurt, but not angry. “After what they put you through, you’re still going to keep up with the hormones?”
Button’s smile left him then, as the train of thought that had kept him awake all night and most of the morning returned. With a sigh, he cast his eyes to the floor. “I know what you’re probably thinking, Sweetie Belle, but it has nothing to do with the sex.” He replied softly. “I can’t deny that what they did to me hurts, and that I was taken advantage of, but at the same time, I have a lot more self-esteem than I did before. It might be taking the easier way out, but that hardship and all of their training... it’s made me a better pony.” He snapped his fingers and a lopsided grin spread across his face. “So they stole a bit of my dignity. For all the confidence they’ve given me, I think it’s a fair trade.”
} 04 {
After a shower, some thorough brushing, and a dose of hormones, Button felt much better than he had upon awakening. It occurred to him that he hadn’t eaten a thing since yesterday afternoon but there would be no getting fed without first dressing. Oh, it’d create quite a stir, me walking out clad in nothing but a pair of panties and the nightie I wore to bed. But if I’m going to really make this reality of my choosing, it has to be done with elegance and poise.
Standing before the dresser, he pondered just what to wear. I know some of these are out of the question in regards to going public. Nothing Dia—none of the clothes they got me are outright slutty, but I want to send the right message. Some of the things in here were clearly intended to be sexy, which while not inherently bad, did not get the right point across; there was no point in giving anybody the wrong impression. Something feminine, but not overly showy; it has to say that I’m confident and comfortable in who I am.
It still needed to be something he’d be comfortable exercising in, so none of the tight-fitting jeans or skirts would do any good in the tournament. Likewise, whatever top he wore would need to be loose enough to allow him to keep cool. Were it not for the fact that it had yet to go through the wash—nevermind the fact that he had only just worn it—he would have gone with yesterday’s choice. Needless to say, there weren’t many choices in his current wardrobe that met the criteria.
In the end, he ended up going with a dress he’d worn on an excursion with Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara to a fancy party. It was a light pink affair, not unlike the purse he often used. With its ruched front, loose-flowing sleeves, lace-paneled shoulders, and waterfall hem, the dress was nothing if not cute, feminine, and confident. As a plus, it was cut in a way that emphasized his developing chest rather than relying on the silicone inserts necessary to fill out some of the other outfits. Even with the flowy skirt, so long as he wore compression shorts, not a thing could be said about his modesty.
Adorned in pink, and accentuated by white knee-highs and a pair of stylish, but comfy, trainers, Button strode out of his room. While being in public en femme was old hat by this point, the anxiety stemming from crossing the point of no return—or had that happened in days long past?—was a new beast entirely. The familiar weight of the purse bouncing at his hip helped ease a bubble of self-doubt that was forming in the pit of his stomach, but it could do nothing to lessen the excitement taking hold of him.
This early into the afternoon, there were plenty of other students in the hall, coming to and fro their dorm rooms. All of them stopped and stared as he walked past, either dumbstruck or amused. A few of them even took out their mobile phones to snap a picture. In spite of it all, nobody he encountered seemed outright appalled by his garb. A few from the gay crowd were even flashing him a thumbs-up. There were smiles all around, and he couldn’t help but blush and return some of them.
The bolstering effect of their good cheer added a happy bounce to his step. Maybe my unease was unfounded, he thought with a smile as he exited the hallway into the common-room lobby. Maybe everybody is a lot more accepting of transmares than I first thought.
“Are you seein’ what I’m seein’, Snails?” a familiar and much dreaded voice said off to his left.
After a moment’s pause, a monotonous voice spoke up. “I think so, but it seems kind of early for the Pride Parade.”
Button didn’t look; he couldn’t. If he acknowledged their presence, he would only give them exactly what they wanted. They weren’t worth his time anyway; his time spent with the girls had shown him that the extent of their power was in words and brute force, and that even with his newfound confidence, it was unladylike to lower himself to their level. Just keep walking. There’s nothing they can—
A hand clamped down on his shoulder before he could go any further. All too soon, he felt himself being lead into the corner of the room by Snips and Snails, the blundering unicorn duo responsible for his initial involvement with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. The smiles on their faces as they boxed him in were nothing like the encouraging smiles from the guys in the halls; these were of gleeful malice, like a cat that had cornered a mouse after a months-long feud.
“Heya buddy,” the shorter unicorn said in a mocking tone. “We couldn’t help but notice you ain’t under the protection of them bitches no more.”
How could they even know that?! his mind screamed in protest. That only happened last night, and I didn’t even get a say in it! Had they really turned on him so quickly after only one night? Was all of this really enough to rat him out to Snips and Snails as they had done when he was trapped in the women’s room?
The taller one let out a chuckle. “Yeah,” he added loudly, turning just enough to give anybody looking a look at what happened next. With a loud guffaw, he grabbed the hem of Button’s dress and flipped it up, revealing his tight gray compression shorts and the panty outline to all who would look. “We just wanted to check in with our favorite little sissy-colt and make sure we’re still friends.”
He smacked the taller jerk’s hands away from the hem of his dress and glared. “Back off, guys,” Button said firmly. “You really do not want to do this.”
Snips raised a bushy eyebrow. “Oooh, ya hear that? We don’t wanna do this after all!” he parroted mockingly. “With how you’re dressed and how girly your voice sounds now, I bet you’d crumple in a stiff breeze.”
Again, Snails guffawed and, lighting up his horn, once more lifted the hem of the dress. “Heh, stiff,” he mumbled. “I bet I know something stiff that Butts here likes, and it ain’t a drink, ya know? Such a fag.”
Rolling his eyes, he tried to keep his cool as he spoke. “I know in the past I haven’t stood up for myself, but you know that the institute doesn’t look kindly on bullying.” He bared his teeth. “Imagine Celestia and Luna will take you harassing a transgendered student in the process of transitioning simply because they’re different. Never mind being expelled from this institute—you’ll never get into any college or university in Equestria with a hate crime on your records. Not a one.”
The shorter ruffian blanched at the implication that he might not be able to get into barber college. The taller of the two, on the other hand, didn’t seem to get the picture. “Hate crime, what are you talking about?! It’s not a hate crime!”
Button was saved on that point by the dorm’s approaching resident advisor. “Actually, Snails,” the gruff stallion said, “Laws were recently passed making bullying a crime throughout Equestria.” The RA nodded towards Button before pulling Snips and Snails away. “If what... she says is true, and you are harassing her out of bias, I think that you’ll find that you’ll be packing your bags a lot sooner than graduation. Not just for bullying, but sexual harassment. Drop it.”
The gravity of the situation finally began to sink in for Snails, and he released his magical grip on the hem of the dress. “Uh, we don’t want any trouble, really!” Snips whimpered, backpedaling. “We were just messing around, honest!”
“Uh, yeah!” Snails agreed. “Messing around.”
The RA gave them both a stern look before turning to Button. “Do you wish to lodge a complaint?” he asked. “I wouldn’t blame you.”
Button shook his head. “They may be a pair of idiots, but I’m not vindictive enough to ruin their lives out of spite.” He fixed his eyes on the pair of young stallions and shrugged. “So long as they remember that I chose mercy and leave me alone, I am content letting them go.”
“You heard her, boys,” he said, waving a hand in dismissal. “Get while the getting’s good.”
Heart pounding in his chest, Button smiled as he watched his bullies retreat into the hallway with haste. They’d left him alone when he was with the girls because they were Sunset Shimmer’s goons, and as her goons, they had to respect the wishes of her associates. They ignored him then because he’d been one of their toys, but now they were backing off because he had taken a stand—well, and because they’d been caught. This wasn’t possible because he’d rolled over and taken it; it was because he became Dee Pad.
Stepping forward, he was once again stopped by a hand clasping his shoulder. “We need to have a talk about this, Button Mash,” the RA said. “The resident advisors are usually notified when one of their charges begins transition so that we can begin making arrangements with the other dormitory. I haven’t heard a word about this from the councilors or any of the staff. To say this is outside protocol is a bit of an understatement.”
His ears drooped, and he turned to look past the RA. “I understand, sir,” Button replied. “Can it wait until later though? I kind of had plans with a friend, and it would be rude to renege at the last moment.”
The stallion gave him an appraising look. “This evening, then,” he replied. “It will work out better schedule-wise for everybody you’ll need to speak to anyways.”
Button nodded before taking a step forward. “Of course, sir. Oh, and from now on, the name is Dee Pad.”
When Dee Pad finally arrived at the intersection of Platinum Street and Clover Boulevard, she was unsurprised to see a large queue trailing out the door of Arcade Heaven. No doubt these ponies were all waiting in line for their chance to fill a spot in the tournament roster. There were, after all, probably only a limited number of slots available.
What did surprise her, however, was how few mares there really were. Most of the other prospective entrants were all guys in their mid-teens. There were a few mares who looked as though they were accompanying a younger filly or colt who could otherwise not enter the tournament—maybe even mother/son or mother/daughter duos. Those ones in particular were her mother’s age.
In fact, the only mare her own age in the line-up was right up near the front of the line. Of course that pony was Sweetie Belle, who looked out of sorts surrounded by all these teens and stallions. Then again, she couldn’t rightly blame her for feeling any discomfort; she was a gorgeous mare, even with baggy looking sweatpants and a tee attempting to hide most of her beauty, surrounded by a bunch of hormonal boys and horny nerds.
As Dee drew closer, she could even hear the pegasus behind her making an attempt to chat her up. “Hey babe, you got a partner?” he asked with all the swagger he could muster. He looked to be her age, but he didn’t look like anyone from the institute; for all she knew, he was a college student. “If you don’t, you could always party up with me. For a pretty little thing like you, I wouldn’t mind sharing the prize, among other things.”
Sweetie Belle just glared at the guy before looking away. “I have a partner already,” she grumbled. “Even if I was willing to drop them like that—which I’m not—you look like you’re as good on your hooves as you are at picking up mares.”
The colts ahead and behind them whooped and jeered as their compatriot was shot down and burned so thoroughly. “There’s no need for that,” the fellow whined, crossing his forearms. “I’m here, and they’re not; just gimme a chance; I’m a nice guy...”
Dee rolled her eyes and strode up to the group. Without warning, or permission, she threw her arms around Sweetie Belle’s neck, using the tips of her hooves to give her just enough height to give her friend a peck on the cheek. “I’m so sorry you had to wait for me,” she said in earnest. “I ran into some trouble at the dorm and ended up running even more behind schedule when I stopped to get a flax muffin at the cafe.” She released her surprised friend and gave her a wink as she let herself back down to her normal height. “Did you wait long?”
Sweetie brought a hand up to her recently kissed cheek, already flush with embarrassment, and shook her head. “A bit longer than I’d have liked, with this one coming on to me.” She gestured a thumb over her shoulder, where the young stallion was now fuming behind her. “Guys, you know?”
Giving her a friend a knowing nod, she fidgeted with her purse and pretended to ignore the guy. “Like my outfit?” she asked, giving a quick twirl on the spot.
“You’ll certainly be putting on quite a show,” Sweetie replied, cocking an eyebrow. Leaning down to Dee’s level, she whispered, “Don’t you realize once you get moving, you’re going to be flashing everybody?”
Dee giggled and teasingly took the hem of the dress and pretended to raise it, drawing the leering of a few of the colts ahead of them, as well as a conflicted look from Sweetie. “They won’t be getting that kind of show, if that’s what you’re asking,” she replied in a conspiratorial whisper. “My spats protect my modesty.”
From behind them, Dee heard the self-proclaimed nice guy snort. “Figures,” he grumbled. “Only two babes here, and they’re a pair of dykes.”
From the look on Sweetie’s face, Dee imagined her friend might just strangle the guy behind them if she spoke, so before her friend could possibly get them barred from entry, she turned to face him. “So because my friend isn’t interested in you, we’re a pair of filly-foolers?” she asked with a rage that she found to be genuine. “‘Gosh, these mares aren’t enchanted by my amazing good looks and winning personality, they’ve got to be gay!’ Get over yourself!
“If a mare isn’t interested in you, it’s probably because you’re offering her nothing she wants,” she ranted. “You aren’t even a ‘nice guy’, as you put it. Contrary to what you seem to think, you are not entitled to a date or a marefriend, so don’t convince yourself that you are.
“Women hate whiny entitled brats like you.” She balled her fists and held them at her sides, leaning close to him and gave a snort of her own. “When you try to ‘pick up chicks’ like you did with my friend here, we don’t feel flattered; we feel creeped out. It’s not your bed that sort of sleazy sexual innuendo makes us want to crawl into; it’s a police box.
“So if you’re going to sit here calling us lesbians because you struck out, thinking you’re saving face—” She spun away, letting her ponytail slap him in the face. “—you’re only proving to everyone else how much of a loser you really are, you pathetic alpha male wannabe.”
For all the stallion might have wanted to, there was nothing for him to do other than choke on his impotent, red-faced anger. Too many ponies, especially the mothers and older teens were watching him, laughing. The mothers especially were clapping. Guys like him are the worst, she thought, watching a mare explain to her daughter what had just happened. Calls us babes and completely ignores the other women here like that. Shows what he’s really looking for.
For a few moments following the dressing down, no one said anything. What could be said? The guy was clearly embarrassed, and nothing could really be said to change anything. Ponies around them just stood there, snickering or staring. She almost felt sorry for him, except for the fact that he was a complete dick about the whole thing.
It all became too much for the stranger, who stormed off with a muttered, “I don’t need this shit!” He flipped them off as he left. “I hope you enjoy whatever douchebag you end up with.”
“Dee, you probably shouldn’t have done that,” Sweetie Belle finally said, her shoulders sagging as she spoke. “Guys like that are really unpredictable.” She crossed her arms and gave Dee a sour look. “They usually get the picture if you’re patient enough, but if you embarrass them like that...” With a shake of her head, she sighed. “Why did you even do that? It’s not like you had to put up with that sort of thing when you hit puberty.”
Why did I? Dee asked herself. I mean yeah, he was hitting on her and being completely disrespectful, but was that called for? What would Mom think? She groaned as her train of thought derailed. Putting aside the fact that she’ll be in town by Saturday, would she approve of what I said?
“I had to deal with it longer than that,” she admitted, stepping forward as the line began moving forward. “Even before I really understood why, there were always stallions hitting on my mom. They didn’t want any actual relationships; they just wanted under her tail, you know? Being a single mother, lot of them would string her along with pleasantries or gifts, but then they’d find out that she was more interested in my well being than dating.”
“So when that stallion...”
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I was reminded of all the men who ever treated my mom like shit. The things she’s been called by guys like him...” Dee brought a hand up to her face, only to discover her cheeks were moist. “I guess it felt good to just vent all of that after all this time.”
Sweetie put an arm around Dee’s shoulders and pulled her close. “Just... Be careful in the future, okay?” she whispered. “Ponies like that can be dangerous.”
} 05 {
Once everyone who was interested in taking part in the tournament had paid and registered, the participants were led into the arcade proper, where a large area had been cleared of arcade machines. In their place, there were a number of folding chairs set up facing a series of brand new Hot Trot Fever game machines.
These weren’t the bulky, single dance-pad machines from Dee’s youth in Ponyville, however. These were sleek machines that were mostly speakers and a huge screen, in front of each was a large, double-width steel platform with buttons intended to be pressed with hooves inlaid and a support bar the user could rest against after the bout. Most eye-catching of all, however, was the splash screen on the machine, which declared the version to be Hot Trot Fever: Tournament Edition XL. These weren’t just brand new machines, either; they were the ones used in the official Trotnami sponsored tournaments.
After a short introduction from the owner once everybody was seated, he began to explain how the tournament would operate. “Each participating team will be placed on a machine in Doubles Score Attack mode, where they will be assigned a song at random from the tier list correspondent to the round of the tournament they are in. When the song is finished, the machine will tally your individual scores and transmit the team’s average to its assigned judge’s tablet for comparison.”
Sweetie Belle nudged Dee with an elbow before whispering, “Those are official tournament machines, Dee!”
Dee gave her friend a blank look and replied, “I didn’t know, honest. It didn’t say anything about it being official in the article!” Likewise, many of the other contestants seemed to have picked up on this. “Maybe we’ll find out before it begins.”
“The team with the highest average score will move on to the next round, so make sure to bring your A-game!” he said decisively. “Finalists will be allowed to choose from any song on the machines, including the long-play challenge songs if you so choose. Teams are encouraged to do their very best, but most of all, remember to have fun.” Gesturing to a harsh-looking mare beside him, he added, “Before we begin, our Trotnami sponsor, Madame Gravenicker, would like to speak to you all.”
“Greetings to you all, everybody, and welcome to the first annual Hot Trot Open,” she said in a very cultured accent. “For many years, the peoples of all races have taken great pleasure in playing Hot Trot Fever. Many have even made a sport of it.” Madame Gravenicker smiled broadly at the crowd seated before her before turning to face the tournament stations, indicating them with her arms spread widely. “The invitational tournaments of the past have catered almost exclusively to the record setters here in the arcades, making them almost inaccessible to the home players.
“We at Trotnami want to see to it that the professional circuit more accessible to these players, which is why we are now hosting highly public tournaments across not just Equestria, but the entire globe!” She turned back to the contestants and grinned. “The first place team will be granted an all-expenses paid trip to the HTF Equestrian Division Championship in July, where, if you so choose, you will be granted a special guest slot...”
Dee tuned out the rest of the mare’s spiel about prizes for second place and the other semi-finalists. All of it paled in comparison to the thought of what the prize meant. Ever since she was a little boy, playing with the very Joy Boy that sat in her dorm room today, she’d grown up with the idea of how she wanted to live a life doing the thing she loved—playing video games. For whatever reason, she had begun to think her old and new lifestyles were irreconcilable, but now here was a chance of a lifetime. The HTF professional circuit wasn’t an option when she was a colt because of all the masculinity she’d attempted to front, but in reality it was one of the most sexually diverse gaming leagues in the world. If she had a chance at playing games for a living, it was up for grabs, here and now.
Here goes everything...
} 05 {
For the two friends, the opening round was a complete cakewalk. Dee never would have admitted it as a boy, but she greatly enjoyed the game, and being unable to take it a step further because of personal compunction was a painful choice she had to live with. Now, in spite of that, here she was, reveling in the joy of playing the game and using years of practice to put a pair of geeky teens to shame.
Her exuberance, combined with Sweetie’s own unmistakable skill at the game, was indeed more than enough to push them through the next few rounds with great ease. Even with a number of unfamiliar tracks being thrown at them, they were unbeatable. What was more, of the ponies that had show up to watch the competition, there was an unmistakable amount of applause whenever the pair took the stage or declared the winner in their round.
The cheering, even more than simply losing herself in the game and putting on a good show, was addictive—intoxicating, even. As more ponies cheered them on, into the quarter finals, it hit her just what this was to her. The energy, the attention, and praise reminded her of the sessions with Diamond and Silver. Just dancing for the crowd was almost as, if not more, rewarding as sex.
Once she had that in her head, the whole experience took on another layer of intensity. The sweat on her brow... the sway of her hips as she depressed the oversized buttons on the platform... having dozens of ponies watching her... I don’t want to admit it, but this is starting to turn me on. Even as the song drew to a close, it couldn’t come soon enough. I feel like I’m going to cum from the rubbing of my panties.
By the time they were crowned winners of the round and lead back to their seats, she was convinced that she was beginning to leak a fair amount of pre-seminal fluid into her panties. There was even a slight slickness spreading near the bottom of her butt from the vigorous movements of the game. I definitely need to get to the bathroom before this starts to stain too much.
Turning to Sweetie Belle, she whispered with a pleading look, “Say, you don’t happen to have any sanitary napkins in your purse, do you?”
Her friend must have been caught off guard by the question, because she almost dropped her bottled water. With a raised eyebrow, she asked, “W-what? Why?”
Dee gave her friend a sheepish look and began pressing her index fingers together. “I’m having a problem. You know... down there. Something I wasn’t planning for.”
“Really? How do you even...” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Dee. I only ever carry tampons. I don’t think they’re going to help you in that department,” she replied. “The dispenser in the women’s room has them though. Hurry, though; the semi finals start in ten minutes.”
Without a response, she stood up and dashed off of the main floor and into a side hallway. It wasn’t her first time in the arcade, despite her mother’s insistence on study over gaming, so she knew where the bathrooms were, but it would be her first time entering the women’s restroom on her own since the bizarre turn her life had taken. Making a silent prayer that nothing like that would happen again, she pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The arcade’s women’s restroom was very much like those at the institute in many respects. As she stood at the granite topped counter and exchanged a bit for a sanitary napkin at one of the machines, she couldn’t help but wonder if there was some nation-wide law that mandated gender stereotyping in bathroom design—after all, pink paint or floral wallpaper had been present in every women’s room she’d been in—but the thought was quickly put aside. After all, it was much less important in comparison to her current issue.
Pushing aside the unimportant quandary, she rushed into one of the stalls and closed the door. It was momentarily awkward to assess her issue when she realized that in her present state, the removal of her panties would allow her dribbling member to spring fully erect and risk smearing precum on the inside of her dress. What had already soaked into the cotton of her panties was easier to conceal than semen spots on her dress, so she lowered the lid on the toilet and, with great care, lifted the skirt of her dress as she sat. From there, it was just a matter of removing her compression shorts and dragging the panties down to her knees.
As had been expected, her manhood stood at attention the moment it was freed from its cotton embrace and, as though it were a dog greeting its owner, drooled appreciatively. Bad dog, she thought wryly, and then giggled at her own silly mental image. Dee wasted no time as she carefully wiped down the last vestige of her masculinity with toilet paper before turning her attention to the mess in her panties. Finally she was able to seat the pad in her panties and get back to the tournament.
It was when she was in the middle of tucking that it began to feel like something wasn’t right. The sound of the door opening was pretty mundane, but the thought of being found with her hand covering her pubic mound set her coat standing on end. What would they think she was doing as she forced her testicles back into the cavity from which they had descended? Might they think she was doing something naughty? The heaviness of the hoofsteps that followed a loud clunk, however, was not so ordinary. Even the largest of mares weren’t so loud when they walked, and the stride was too long to be a regular mare.
“I know you’re in here, you sassy little bitch,” came a voice from beyond the door. It was not a welcome voice, if the voice of a stallion could ever be considered welcome in this restroom, and it certainly wasn’t friendly. Even though the event was still fairly recent in her mind, it still took her a moment to place the voice. Sweetie Belle’s words echoed in her mind as she tried to back away from the stall door. Ponies like that are unpredictable. It was unmistakably the stallion from before.
“Come out, come out wherever you are,” he said. Another bang shook the very stall as it reverberated throughout the room. “It’s okay, I just want to talk.”
Dee stifled a squeak as the stall shook once more and the door to the stall next to her slammed against the wall. She pulled her panties and spats back up with a trembling hand before scrambling onto the toilet. His breathing outside the door of her stall was heavy and deep, almost a growl. “Eeny-meeny miney-mo; only one more stall to go!”
She covered her head with her hands and let out a plaintive whimper. This guy didn’t want to talk. Someone who wanted to talk didn’t barge into the bathroom and begin kicking in doors; that’s what an angry pony did. Who could be more angry than the stallion she’d publicly embarrassed and subjected to ridicule? No, he didn’t want to talk; he wanted to assert his dominance, and there were only two endings there.
The door to the stall exploded open, and before her stood the very man she’d shamed outside the arcade. “There you are, you fiery little thing,” he said in a tone that made her feel queasy. “Don’t you want to apologize for what you did to me?”
“G-go aw-w-way!” Dee cried, as she cringed away from the stallion looming over her. “I didn’t do anything to you!”
His eyes, like two ominous globes of hate, widened at her claim, and then narrowed to near slits. “Didn’t do anything?” With a snarl, he grabbed her by the collar of her dress and hauled her out of the stall. “You humiliated me out there in front of all of the other competitors, and then once I finally registered, I ended up paired with some scrub kid who doesn’t know his left hoof from his right.”
The stallion threw her against the counter and pushed her face against the mirror. “Not that he was even looking at the screen!” She felt him tug her spats and underwear down with his free hand, while his other remained at the back of her neck. “He was too busy hoping for a glimpse of this tight little ass.”
As much as she struggled against his strength, she could only watch in mute horror as he brought his free hand up to his mouth and spat on it. The sudden vigor with which he jammed his large fingers into her rectum elicited a squeal of pain from her. “No! I don’t want this! I’m sorry! Just please, stop!”
“An ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t get me out of the losers bracket with a better partner!” He twisted his wrist and growled. “‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t keep you from distracting your opponents with your dress! You should be disqualified for playing dirty. Fuckin’ tease!”
“Speaking of disqualified,” came a very welcome voice from the doorway, “I think both the judges and the arcade owner would be very interested to find out you sexually assaulted one of your competitors in the women’s restroom.”
In the door of the restroom stood Sweetie Belle, her cellular phone in her hand. The camera port on the device was directed right at the scene before her, no doubt perfectly catching the stallion’s surprised face. “For that matter, just imagine what the police will think.”
“Nobody will ever find out, now will they?” he said, narrowing his eyes, and tightening his grip on the back of Dee’s neck. “Don’t want any accidents, do we?”
Sweetie Belle just glowered at him. “You don’t have the balls to do anything to me; hell, you don’t have the balls to do anything to her,” she said in a confident tone. “If you had any, you would have already raped her. Instead you’re more concerned about asserting your dominance verbally. Besides, I’ve already sent a copy of the video to a friend, who’ll call the police if I don’t send her an all-clear. Let her go.” When he made no move to let her go, she raised an eyebrow and cocked her head at the door. “So what way do you want to play this?”
“Fuckin’ cunt!” he yelled, shoving Dee aside.
As her head clipped the edge of the counter, she thought she could hear Sweetie screaming something. “Someone help! This guy just attacked my friend in the bathroom!”
} 05 {
Sweetie heaved a sigh of relief when Button’s—Dee's—eyes fluttered open a short while later.
“You really had me worried,” she whispered, pulling away a cloth reddened by her friend’s blood. While she’d succeeded in cleaning most of the blood out of the smaller mare’s mane, there were still some stained spots close to where she’d split her scalp. “How are you feeling?”
“Like someone’s been playing Tetris with my brain,” Dee groaned, rising up from her friend’s lap. She looked up into Sweetie’s eyes for a moment before scrambling off of her and huddling against the wall. They were still in the bathroom, it seemed. “Is it our turn yet?”
Her unicorn friend shook her head, wiping a wet cloth across her own muzzle, cleaning away the remnants of a bloody nose. “Tournament’s cancelled,” she replied. “They pretty much had to when they found out a contestant had assaulted two others... one of them sexually.” Sweetie inclined her head toward the door, where a policemare stood patiently. “The cops want to talk to you about what happened.”
Dee’s eyes widened reflexively as she took in the sight of the police officer, but her mind barely registered the mare. She was lost in thought at the sight of her. If I talk to the police, they’re going to find out why I was in here, was her primary line of thought, and they’re going to think I’m a pervert! They could arrest me for being lewd, even though I was the one attacked!
She allowed her gaze to wander along with her mind as the officer drew closer. For that matter, could I even face that guy in a court room? An involuntary shudder racked her body when the next thought burst to the forefront of her mind. What if he got out on bail? If I testify against him, he could try to get some sort of revenge! What if he comes after me or Sweetie Belle? What if... mom...
“I don’t want to testify...” she said, sniffing back the sudden efflux of tears. “Don’t make me testify.”
The policemare froze half-way between the girls and the door, her professional demeanor betrayed by the hesitant look in her eyes. From Dee’s position, she thought she could see the cop mouth something under her breath, but with the tears in her eyes, it could have been her imagination. When the officer finished her approach, she crouched down to Dee’s level and offered up a tissue.
“I can’t promise the district attorney won’t make you testify, honey,” she offered in a soft tone as she patted Dee’s shoulder, “but I can promise that regardless of your testimony, the video evidence is damning enough that you won’t have to worry about him getting off.” Dee shied away from the officer’s touch, taking scant comfort in her attempt.
Unsure of whether or not Dee would answer, Sweetie spoke up. “I think she’s afraid he might come after her before the trial,” she said, hugging her friend close. “Things have been rough for her these last few days and among it all, she decided...” She gave an apologetic look to her friend. “She’s transitioning. For all he did to her, I think it’s starting to sink in that it could have been so much worse if he had been just a more bit forward.”
An involuntary shudder racked Dee’s body as Sweetie Belle continued. It wasn’t because what she had said was the truth, but rather that the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. Sure, plenty of ponies were tolerant of homosexuality, transgendered ponies, and interspecies relations, but that stallion didn’t exactly seem to be the accepting type. If he’d discovered my manhood, it could have been so much worse.
“Listen, I’d feel terrible if I just left you like this,” the officer said, as if in answer to something Sweetie Belle had said but remained unheard by Dee. “After I take your statements, I can have someone drive you home. Is that okay?”
Dee only nodded before burying her face into Sweetie’s shoulder. Home, to the institute. Where I’m going, I’ll get yelled at or maybe have the book thrown at me. If it’s not one problem, it’s another.
“It’s going to be okay now,” Sweetie Belle promised. Stroking her hair, she smiled gently. “I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again.”
Time seemed to stretch on in the back of the police wagon. The ride itself was only fifteen minutes, but inside Dee’s exhausted mind, it may as well have been hours. There was nothing to fear, here in the presence of a policemare who seemed unbothered by, if not accepting of who she was, but her mind was rife with worry about what was to come. Would the Principal and Vice Principal be attending the meeting? Would they be upset with her?
She leaned her head against the window, looking past the passing scenery with unseeing eyes. “Today was supposed to be a good day,” she whimpered as a fresh fusillade of tears began to wash over her cheeks. “Why do these things happen to me?”
Sweetie Belle placed a hand gently on Dee’s shoulder, eliciting a startled jump, and gave a reassuring squeeze before turning her friend to face her. With her free hand, Sweetie retrieved a plastic-wrapped pack of tissues from her purse and began to dab away the tears on Dee’s face. “It’s just bad luck, Dee; you know that,” she said softly. “It won’t last forever, but if you think like it will, you’re just setting yourself up for repeated failure.
“I know you’re probably still feeling kind of alone after what Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon did, and what happened at the arcade has really shaken you, but you can’t let a few bad things let you convince you everything ahead will be bad.” The corners of her mouth pulled upward in a light smile. “You remember how Diamond and Silver used to tease me and my friends because of our blank flanks, right? Do you remember how depressed I became when Diamond told me I was going to be completely talentless for the rest of my life?”
Dee nodded, turning her eyes away from her friend. “You hid in your room for days and you wouldn’t even see Apple Bloom and Scootaloo,” she said. “After you didn’t come to that... er... play-date, I showed up at the boutique.”
“And what was I doing when you showed up outside my door?” she asked with a knowing tone in her voice.
“You were singing.” A smile worked its way across Dee’s face. “I remember bursting in telling you that it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, that you couldn’t possibly have been talentless with such an amazing singing voice... You got your cutie mark that day.”
“That’s right,” Sweetie answered. “But more than that, you showed me that one could always find light in the darkness, if only they would look for it.” She giggled slightly as something occurred to her. “The next day, I was in such a good mood that I thanked Diamond for bullying me to the point of getting my cutie mark, and then noted that if she kept it up, she’d run out of blank flanks to pick on.”
An amused snort escaped Dee as she finally looked her friend in the eye. “It certainly worked; they seemed to grow up after that.” Her smile fell slightly as she noticed how close they were getting to the institute. “I know what you’re trying to do, but I just don’t get what the light in the darkness is supposed to be in this situation. When we get back to the school, I’ve got to go to a meeting with the men’s dorm RA, and presumably the women’s as well. There’s no way I’m going to get lucky enough to get another room to myself, and I know if someone has to get moved to another room just so I can be placed with somebody comfortable with a pony like me, there’s going to be some animosity there. I don’t want to ups—”
A lone finger pressed against her lips and silenced her. “It’s okay,” she said, stroking Dee’s chin with her thumb. “I’m your light in the darkness, just like you were mine when I needed it. When I said I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to you, I meant it. I’ll be right there with you in that meeting, not that I think they’ll deny you some support after what happened to you today.”
Dee Pad sagged in her seat, trying to relax as Sweetie Belle’s words began to sink in. Silver Spoon hadn’t been wrong, it seemed; whether or not she even realized it, Sweetie seemed to have feelings she couldn’t deny. What was more, Sweetie was absolutely right; she couldn’t let herself be fooled into thinking that everything would be bad from here on out.
“Thanks,” she whispered, returning her gaze to the ponies and buildings passing by.
} 06 {
When the police car pulled onto the campus proper, Sweetie Belle was unsurprised to find a tall earth pony stallion waiting for them. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen the man on campus; she often saw him discussing managing the dorm halls with her own dorm’s RA over coffee in the commissary, so it wasn’t a far stretch to assume that he was the advisor responsible for the men’s hall, nor was it hard to believe that he would be the one to greet them. After all, wasn’t it standard procedure for the institute to be notified whenever students were involved in a violent incident?
Rather, what surprised her was that Mrs. Primrose, the resident advisor for the women’s dormitory, was missing, and not just because a resident of her dorm had also been involved. Dee would very soon be one of her charges, so it made sense that she’d also be there. Then again, she might have been tied up in other matters, or she might not want her first meeting with Dee tainted by the image of her stepping out of a police car.
Sweetie watched Dee’s expression as her friend took notice of the stallion, and how her ears seemed to droop and her eyes began to glisten at the sight of him. It reminded her that Dee had always been a good kid when she was younger, and had probably never ridden in a police vehicle before. With how erratic her friend had been since last night, she could only imagine that her fear of reprisal was overriding the fact that she’d done nothing wrong, expecting to be chewed out.
Again, she squeezed Dee’s shoulder, smiling. Sweetie shook her head when Dee turned to face her, hoping the message was clear enough: “You aren’t in trouble.” Whether or not she actually got the message, she watched her friend’s ears perk up lightly, and she no longer looked like she was about bawl her eyes out.
Finally, the vehicle pulled to a stop in front of the stallion. The two friends could do nothing but watch as the policemare stepped out of the car and began to converse with the RA. Not a word from the two could be heard over the still-running engine, but Sweetie thought she could make out the words “Thank you,” on his lips as the officer turned to let them out.
Being on the side of the vehicle closest to the curb the officer had pulled alongside, Dee was the first to get out of the vehicle. Though she was still somewhat unsteady on her hooves from her head injury, and presumably discomforted by her abused bottom, she was quick to accept a hug and a few whispered words of encouragement from the policemare. Even more surprising was how quickly she seemed to put aside her anxiety regarding her meeting aside.
“Button—er, Dee Pad, it’s good to see you are alright,” the men’s dorm RA said as he reached to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder, before his hand flinched back. It dropped to his side, and he frowned. “When we were notified of what happened at Arcade Heaven, we were incredibly worried for you.” He cast a glance over his shoulder at the school’s administrative building. His lips became tight, and he sighed heavily. “... and unfortunately, that means that the er... Principal and Vice Principal have taken a personal interest in your case.”
Sweetie’s ears flicked at these words as she climbed out the door behind Dee. If Celestia and Luna had taken notice, things could go any number of ways incredibly quickly. Turning to the law officer, she looked sheepishly at her hooves. “Thank you for the ride, Officer—” Her eyes flicked up at the name embroidered on the velcro tag on the officer’s uniform. “—Shield.”
Officer Shield nodded once before returning to the driver’s side of her cruiser. Her back turned to Sweetie, she raised one hand in farewell. “You take care of her, you hear?” she called over her shoulder over her shoulder as she climbed into the vehicle. “A girl in her situation needs all the support she can get.”
Watching the cop car pull away, Sweetie screwed up her face in confusion and shook her head. Why did everyone seem to keep putting Dee’s continued well-being on her? Sure, she’d promised her that nothing bad would ever happen, and told Diamond and Silver to stay away from them both, but she couldn’t help her alone. Were others seeing something that she wasn’t? Wasn’t she just watching out for a childhood friend?
} 06 {
The wait in the meeting room was making her uncomfortable, and having Sweetie Belle at her side did little to make her feel any better. They had been standing on one side of a table at rapt attention for almost fifteen minutes, and they couldn’t dare relax. On the other side of the table were not two, or even three, but four chairs, but on Dee’s, there wasn’t even one, giving the room the air of an impending trial.
What was taking them so long? It wasn’t like they didn’t know she was waiting for them there. In fact, they had a few hours warning in order to set all of this up. “What do you think is taking so long, Sweetie?” Dee asked, pursing her lips as she rubbed at a speck of blood on the shoulder of her dress. “Do you think that Principal Celestia and Vice Principal Luna have decided that I’m in some kind of trouble?”
If she expected some form of reassurance from her friend, none was forthcoming. All Sweetie Belle could offer was a shrug and upraised palms. “I honestly don’t know,” she replied, not making eye contact. “You haven’t exactly broken any laws, but not everything you’ve been into has been on the straight and narrow.” She clasped a hand on Dee’s shoulder and tilted her head at the door. “They probably just wanted to discuss what happened to you at the arcade and how to handle all of this in light of it.
“You’ve been through something traumatic,” she continued, pulling her into a tight hug. “They’re not about to come down on you like the second Changeling Inquisition with that in mind; it would be too cruel. Don’t forget who started this whole institution.”
Relaxing her expression, Dee nodded. “I’m sure you’re right.”
The clatter of approaching hooves in the hallway ended any further conversation as they exchanged anxious looks. They straightened their postures and kept their eyes low, so not to appear defiant. Although Sweetie had seen the princesses in person when she was younger, a fringe benefit of having an important sister, it would be her first time meeting them. Even if it was only as school administrators and not as Their Royal Highnesses in all their glory, Dee took comfort in this. It meant that they were both in unexplored territory.
It was agonizingly slow to watch the doorknob turn, but once the door opened, time seemed to speed up as an otherworldly pressure flowed into the room. They could only watch as the men’s RA stepped in, followed by a woman about Dee’s height—the stallion’s counterpart, she realized. Even as both took seats, her breath was taken away when Celestia and Luna entered.
She didn’t know what to expect upon seeing them, but it wasn’t this. As princesses, Celestia and Luna were tall, almost ethereal in appearance—goddesses of unbidden beauty and power. Yet here were these two, naught but little girls. Both were shorter than even Dee, and wore clothes what could only be custom tailored; nobody could have made three piece suits en mass for ponies so young. Even their manes weren’t as ethereal she would have expected: Celestia’s was a flowing pink while Luna’s was a baby blue. They were adorable, to say the least.
When the childlike leaders took their seats between the two RAs, they acknowledged the two standing pupils by conjuring two chairs on their side of the table. “Please, take a seat,” Principal Celestia instructed. “We realize you are both tired from today’s events, so this won’t take very long.”
Sweetie Belle did as instructed, but Dee hesitated, enraptured by the unreal duality of Celestia’s voice. Her voice was unmistakably childish, but there was a second, more adult layer to her voice, giving powerful, if haunting quality. There were two lingering thoughts in her mind when she finally complied with the instruction. How could someone so powerful be so small? Was this her true form, or was it a guise to make them seem more approachable?
“Do you know why we established Canterlot Higher Education Institute?” Luna asked, folding her hands before her on the table. When no answer was proffered right away, she smiled in a manner more frightening than adorable. “Humor us, please.”
Just as her friend was about to answer, Dee spoke up. “Canterlot Higher Education Institute was founded as a beta test for the modernization of the Equestrian education system, ma’am.” She paused to recall what she had read following a particularly rough session with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. “With the technological boom following Equestria’s entrance into the Information Age, the educational systems in rural areas like Ponyville lagged behind. The schools couldn’t afford to keep up with the ever evolving hardware and curriculum, handicapping ponies when it came to post-secondary education.
“The Institute is an accelerated learning program intended to provide these ponies with the opportunity to gain equal footing by teaching them what they need to know for the college or university courses of their choice,” she concluded. “If it proves successful under your supervision, it will be the basis for a new type of school; a school that would educate from the elementary level straight through to university, right?”
Celestia smiled and clapped, beaming at the young mare before her.. “Very good, my little pony,” she said with a nod. “I’m proud that, in spite of how you have been keeping busy with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, you’ve been keeping up with your studies.”
A hard lump formed in Dee’s throat as her wide eyes locked on the miniature princess. She knew about it all? How much did she know? How could she have found out? She scooted her seat backward, wringing her hands atop her lap. Oh, they were totally going to expel her!
“Be at ease,” Luna instructed, the small horn from her forehead glowing gently. Even as the vice principal princess spoke, the tension building inside Dee’s chest began to soften and fade. “You are not to be punished for having a personal life. Self-discovery is every bit as important as the learning process itself, otherwise knowledge is wasted without purpose.”
Dee wasn’t completely sure of it, but she thought over the phrase. “If a pony doesn’t know what he or she is to do with knowledge, they cannot apply it to its fullest,” she finished the saying with a hushed whisper to herself, “but if a pony finds themselves, they can find purpose for that knowledge.” Nodding to Luna, she said aloud, “I think I understand, ma’am.”
Celestia steepled her hands before her on the table and pursed her lips. “Hopefully they will be words you might take to heart,” she said flatly before smiling. “Now, I understand you have begun the process of transitioning. For obvious legal reasons, Morning Oak can no longer host you in the men’s dorm.”
The mare to the left of Luna straightened up on cue and offered a hand. “I am Evening Primrose, the resident advisor for the women’s dorm here at Canterlot Higher Education Institute.” Dee Pad reached across the table to shake her hand. “I’ve worked with young women in situations similar to your own in the past, albeit never one who’d begun transition without the assistance of a doctor, so I understand what you’re facing.”
“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Dee replied, easing back into her seat. A heaviness, one she hadn’t been aware was weighing her down, dissipated as she came to the realization that things weren’t going nearly as badly as she had feared. The relief flushed the last bit of adrenaline and tension from her system, leaving her absolutely knackered. “Not to sound rushed or anything, but... where am I staying tonight? The men’s dorm sounds like it’s out of the question beyond moving my stuff, and I doubt I’m lucky enough to get another room to myself.”
Celestia and Luna shared a look with Mrs. Primrose before smiling in unison. “There are presently no empty rooms available in my dorm hall, and while there is to be an opening rather soon, I actually have something else in mind.” Reaching beneath the table, she withdrew a small notebook from her purse. She pored over its contents before closing it and returning her attention to the ponies before her. “She’s a good pony, but because of her unique personality, her previous roommates never really got on well with her. Needless to say, it’s her uniqueness that makes me suspect that she will be more tolerant and accepting than some others might be. She’s already agreed to give you a shot, as well.”
Dee noted one of Sweetie’s ears twitch at this, but made no comment even as her friend screwed up her muzzle in some miserable attempt not to smile. Primrose, however, was not so quiet on the matter. “Yes, I’m quite aware you know who this mare is, Sweetie Belle,” she said with a lighthearted giggle. “I’m sure you know her too.”
Somepony she knew in the women’s dorm who would be accepting of her? Sure, there were plenty of ponies that she grew up with that were presently at Canterlot High. Ignoring the obvious ones that she’d seen just over the last 48 hours, she could think of Noi, Aura, Pina Colada, Dinky Hooves, and Zipporwhill, just off the top of her head. None of them fit the bill, however. Beyond Noi being a bit of a busybody what with her investigative reporting for the campus paper or Zipporwhill being excitable as all hell, none of the ponies had the sort of personalities that would make having a roommate difficult.
They must have taken her moment of silent thought as a sign of tiredness, because at some point, Celestia and Luna had both risen. “You don’t have to worry about moving all of your possessions tonight, Dee Pad,” Celestia said softly, using a bit of magic to brush the young mare’s mane from her eyes. “Just take what you need for classes tomorrow and anything you cannot be without, and we will have some discreet ponies move your belongings for you.”
“Thank you, Princess—er, Principal Celestia. That is very kind,” she replied, bowing in her seat. “Perhaps too kind.”
A soft, cool aura enveloped her chin, tilting her head and forcing her to look up at the regal administrators. “Think nothing of it, young one,” Luna said. “We do, however have a request for you in exchange for this.”
Humbled, the only thing she could manage was a simple, “Anything, Your Highness.”
“We want you to speak with a therapist,” she said in a voice no louder than a whisper. “Barring that, at least speak to your mother.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Now, we have other things to attend to this afternoon, but we are certain that Sweetie Belle can show you to your new room. We hope your future to be a bright and happy one.”
} 06 {
Dee could hardly think as she exited the building, Sweetie Belle ever present at her side. Why had she thought that she was going to be in trouble? Such a thing was almost insulting to have ever been thought about the kind and understanding ponies that she had just spoken with. If anything, she imagined they would have given her the world, or a close simulacrum, if she had asked.
Indeed, she was so out of sorts that she was barely aware she’d walked straight into a pair of older stallions going in the opposite direction as she exited the building. None of their words registered in her mind as she apologized to them, but just when they had almost reached the men’s dorm, it occurred to her that she’d seen those men before.
“Sweetie Belle, weren’t those men Filthy Rich and Silversmith?” she finally asked, just outside her former dorm room. “Weren’t they Diamond’s and Silver’s fathers?”
The taller mare only nodded and said, “Yeah, they were,” as Dee pulled the door open.
“Do you think they... know?” she asked. “I mean, about what Diamond and Silver were up to.”
“At the very least, something is up,” Sweetie replied, glancing over the disheveled room. “They wouldn’t be here looking as angry as they were unless something had pulled them away from their business holdings.” She pointed at the duffel bag on the floor, not far from the door. “Well, let’s get what you need and then tidy up a bit, alright?”
Dee nodded, and then snatched up the indicated bag. She took it over to her laundry hamper and up-ended it, depositing the contents among the other worn articles of clothing. After that, she made her way to the dresser. She took only a few pairs of plain underwear, some training bras, and socks, recalling what the princess had said, and then moved on to school-suitable outfits.
“You sure have a lot of lacy stuff,” Sweetie noted with a bit of a teasing smile. “Not going to take any of that?”
Holding up a green blouse, she shook her head. “I’m only grabbing a few days worth of stuff,” she replied. “As nice and pretty as the lace feels, I can live without it for a bit.” Placing the blouse back in the drawer, she held up a pink camisole. “What do you think, too much for school? Too trashy?”
“Nah, that’s fine.” Sweetie Belle grabbed a ladies t-shirt that looked two sizes too small and did a doubletake as she read the print on it. “‘Butt Slut’?” she said incredulously. “They actually made you wear this?”
Dee shrugged and placed the cami in the bag. “I had to wear something when they took me shopping.” She held up a pair of black skinny jeans for a moment, before deciding herself that they would be fine and placing it in the bag. She repeated the process navy skirt and another white blouse before pushing the drawer closed. “They made me ride the bus back with a full size vibe in my ass and a pad in my panties in case I made a mess.”
If that surprised Sweetie, she made no outward reaction. “I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me,” she answered thoughtfully as the young transmare entered the room’s ensuite. “They once had me walk around wearing nothing but hotpants, a hoodie, and an erection. Thinking back, they were pretty deviant, weren’t they?”
“Could you grab that pair of trainers and those low heel pumps from beside my bed?” Dee asked, as she began collecting up her toiletries. Her eye caught on the bottles of magical hormones Silver Spoon had given her—especially the three full bottles that she’d taken out of the bag only this morning—before those too entered the bag.
When she came back out of the bathroom, she saw Sweetie Belle holding the fair-sized lockbox that had once resided under the bed and froze. “I remember this!” she declared, turning the key that had been foolishly left in the lock. “I gave you this on your tenth birthday!”
“Wait, don’t open—” she started to say, but it was too late. Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened as she saw the box’s contents.
Moving to her friend’s side, she stared down at the contents of the box. It was nearly two feet long and almost half as wide, divided neatly down the center by a folded sheet of cardboard. One side was full of mementos from her childhood: his Joy Boy, a few game cartridges, photos of her and what little friends she had, and even a friendship bracelet she very much doubted Sweetie even remembered giving her.
Unfortunately, Sweetie was focused on the other contents of the box. Buried beneath the strips of condoms, a bottle of personal lubricant, plugs of various sizes, and what looked like a urethral stopper was a monster of black silicone. It wasn’t nearly as long as Sweetie’s own cock, but it was every bit as girthsome, and sported a strange swelling near the base as large as a fist.
Pushing the lid closed in front of her friend’s furiously blinking eyes, Dee sighed and placed the lockbox in the bag with everything else. “Yes, I keep my toys in my memory box; it’s the only safe place and let’s leave it at that.”
“You... how does that even fit?” she asked, turning her astonished eyes to her friend. “Wouldn’t that hurt?”
A weak smile crossed Dee’s muzzle and she shrugged. “A lot of lube, training, and patience,” she said dryly as she began to tidy up. “I was still relatively new to it all when they first took me to get a toy, and I thought it was all some joke. So, out of jest, I picked that because ‘it looked funny’. Then they told me later that I’d have to train up to it. It fits, but I’ve never once knotted it.” Deciding the place to be acceptable enough without any clothes on the floor, she added, “Can we go now? I’m dying to meet this pony I already know.”
With everything as it should be, so far as Dee could say it could be, she threw the bag over her shoulder and eyed the door with a raised eyebrow. “Something I’m not so sure about,” she said, pushing the doorway open, “is why everyone seems to be so sure this pony will be so accepting of a surprise roommate who happens to be packing a... erm... little surprise?”
Sweetie Belle chuckled to herself and followed her friend out of the room. Pulling the door shut behind her, she said, “She’ll be fine with you because she’s asexual.” Dee tossed her the key, and she locked the door behind them. “Who better to place a transgendered mare with than another member of the institute’s LGBT society?”
Pausing to look over her shoulder, she caught Sweetie’s smirk. “You’re not going to tell me who she is, are you?” she asked, continuing her way down the hall. Dee’s query was met only with giggles.
The young pegasus mare mopped the sweat from her orange-furred brow with a towel as she entered her dorm room. It had been a good run around campus—not too long, but not so short as to not overexert herself. Rather, she had been out just long enough to build up a dull ache in her legs.
In spite of the discomfort, she was content. Pulling off her t-shirt and discarding it onto her bed, she allowed herself a smile. Every day, she was able to push herself a little bit farther and run a little bit faster. Off came her running shorts as she allowed her pride to sink in, leaving her in only her sports bra and panties. Why shouldn’t she be proud of her accomplishments? Every day of training was another step away from the day that nearly broke her so many years ago. If anyone had a right to feel a little awesome about herself, she did.
Her wings twitching in expectation, she laid her towel across the seat of the swivel-chair before seating herself in it. The young mare reached down to her right leg after she was seated, and gripped it just above the knee. With the years of practiced ease, she slid the prosthetic off. She grimaced momentarily as she flexed the muscle in her leg and the phantom sensations of the knee she no longer had.
Cradling the sleek prosthetic in her arms, she inspected it for any flaws. There wasn’t so much as a chip in the carbon-fiber limb, much to her relief, so she spun her chair about to face her desk and retrieved the prosthetic maintenance kit from the bottom left-hand drawer. Much like the removal of her limb, caring for the cherished sporting prosthetic was second nature by this point.
The cleaning and polishing of her little bit of athletic freedom relaxed her. Wiping down the inside of the socket with a cleaning solution-soaked rag washed away the accumulated residue of sweat, and applying a fresh coat of varnish kept it looking good as new. The act eased the tension in her body and bolstered her pride in having a prosthetic that was as good as, if not more effective than, the limb she had lost. The only thing a little routine maintenance couldn’t fix was the ache in her stump; there were, however, other options for that.
She allowed herself a smile as she packed the kit back into its drawer. Next was easily the best part of winding down after a good run, and it was only one drawer up. Pausing as her fingers grazed the handle, she recalled that she had yet to remove the sock covering her stump. The young woman thumbed her sock off with her free hand as she withdrew the bullet vibrator and its wireless controller from the desk.
The sleek silver capsule sat between her palm and her thumb as she lowered her hand to the cut-off of her leg, about as ready to get to work as any inanimate object could be said to be. Her thumb clicked the remote’s lowest setting at the very instant it touched the area around her stump. A wave of relief began to radiate from the point of contact and a low buzz filled her ears.
A contented sigh left her as the vibrations teased the muscles in her leg. Slowly, with her guidance, she led the bullet on a path around the entire surface of her stump, overriding the ache and replacing it with a pleasant numbness. It’d never compare to the pleasure it could bring her applied elsewhere, but in a way, relief from pain was every bit as satisfying as dealing with her own libido—if not more so.
Transferring the bullet to her right hand, she flicked open the laptop on her desk and tapped a key. The screen flared to life after a moment’s pause, revealing complicated anatomy diagrams over a window that had been her chemistry homework. A few practiced keystrokes, and those windows were minimized and her media library was open.
Just as she pulled on her headset, however, the screen went mostly black. Aside from a stylized, apple-shaped retort, the only things visible on the screen were the alias ‘PotionPony45’, and the options ‘Accept Video Call’ and ‘Decline Video Call’. She didn’t even hesitate when she clicked accept.
The image on screen resolved into the image of a light yellow mare in a labcoat, standing at a lab table across from the camera. Her back was turned as she fidgeted with something in front of her, but after only a second, she peered over her shoulder and smiled. “Hey Scootaloo,” she said, brushing a lock of her red mane out of her eyes. “I was starting to think you’d flaked out on our regular conference call, too.”
Scootaloo laughed as she dragged her right hand away from the stump of her leg, pausing midway up her thigh. “Don’t be that way, Apple Bloom,” she replied, waving her free hand dismissively. “You know Sweetie wouldn’t miss a call if she could help it.”
The earth pony on screen turned and leaned against the table behind her, her arms crossed in front of her. She wore a tired expression, and her frown made it clear that she wasn’t convinced. “Easy for y’all to say,” she grumbled, her familial accent momentarily slipping through. “You get to see her practically every day, while I’m pretty much stuck with these weekly calls. It sucks that I can’t see y’all more often.”
Shrugging, Scootaloo allowed the vibrator to creep further up her leg. “We miss you too.” Her hand grazed the edge of her panties, and she chided herself mentally. Apple Bloom was clearly at work, and even when she wasn’t, she still got a little weirded out by her openness regarding doing that. Stress relief or not, her masturbation made Apple Bloom uncomfortable. “So what’s up? You’re usually not at work this time of day.”
Apple Bloom’s eyebrow shot up before she glanced around the lab. “Oh, right,” she said, pausing only to yawn between words. “Miss Silver called me in today, and said we’d be trying something new.” As if to accentuate her point, a silver pegasus mare in a labcoat and an eye patch wandered through the background, holding a beaker of pink liquid up to the light. “She was understanding enough about the call, though. Gave me a short break in order to catch up.”
With a laugh, Scootaloo ran her free hand through her mane. “At least she’s not some crotchety old stallion of the opinion, ‘You came to the Crystal Empire for an apprenticeship, not to chat with your friends,’” she said in her best mock geezer voice. The temptations of the vibrator grew too much, and she slipped it down the front of her panties.
An “Amen to that,” came from somewhere offscreen, causing a roll of Apple Bloom’s eyes.“One of my daughters gets the same trouble from her elementary teacher for reading ahead. ‘You come to learn what I teach you, not what you want.’”
“Anyway, how about you, Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom interrupted before her boss could say any more. “What have you been up to?”
A pleasured sigh escaped her throat, and she realized that her face was beginning to grow warm, and the bullet was only resting on her mons pubis. “I just got back from a run,” she admitted, trying to keep her voice steady. “I was going to see if Sweetie Belle wanted to go do something today, but when I ran into her, she said a friend of hers was having a rough time of things, so the two were going to the arcade to burn off some steam. Said something about a tournament.”
Apple Bloom laughed heartily and then sighed. “Oh I’m sure there’ll be plenty of happy nerds there, regardless of the game, then.”
“Oh! And I’m apparently getting another new roommate,” Scootaloo added. “Mrs. Primrose stopped by and said I’d be rooming with a transmare that’d begun transition on her own. Should be interesting.”
“Are y’all sure yer comfortable with that?” she asked, looking slightly pink herself. Had the sigh given Scootaloo away? The look on her face all but said that she couldn’t believe Scootaloo was actually doing that while in the call. “I know she’s probably harmless an all, but if she still has her stallion bits... Well you know how Sweetie can get switched and doesn’t exactly think right.”
“I’ll be fine,” was her only response. “I don’t think they’d stick anybody who’d take advantage of an amputee with me.”
“Well, tell me how it g—” Apple Bloom’s eyes went wide. “Aw heck.”
Scootaloo could hear that Silver mare speaking off-screen again. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but I may have inadvertently created a new lifeform... again.” There was a small bit of apprehension in her voice. “Could you bring me the taser and the homunculus containment kit? No rush, but this one has tentacles.”
An apologetic smile flashed across Apple Bloom’s face and she reached for the computer. “Sorry, Scoots, gotta run!” she said before the screen blinked back into her chat client window. A moment later, a single message popped up. Tell Sweetie I said ‘Hi,’ and that I should be back in Canterlot next week.
Just like that, Scootaloo was left alone with one hand down the front of of her panties, a vibe buzzing against her pubic mound, and a burning warmth between her loins. “What the hell; I might not get another chance depending on how strange this might get, so...” She flicked back to her media library to pull up a high-energy playlist—something to get her heart racing—and again reached into the middle drawer...
} 07 {
For the first time since she started up with Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon, Dee was entering the women’s dormitory without a hungry anticipation of what was to come. Certainly, she was anxious and a bit excited by the prospect of seeing somebody that she knew, but this was the first time her entrance to the building hadn’t been on the pretext of sex. Mostly though, she just wanted to lie down.
She barely paid any mind to the corridors Sweetie Belle led her down—just enough to get the gist of where in the building she was. Her attention was predominated by thoughts of what would come next. It wasn’t meeting with her new roommate, or even coming out to her mother that occupied her thoughts, but rather her education and how it played out in relation to her future. It wasn’t enough to just know what she had wanted to do; she needed to know how the changes to her identity played into things.
Looking back at what she had said when she met with the counselor to discuss his plans and placement, she realized that he had been incredibly short-sighted. Why had she ever thought that she would be happy playing incomplete games as a beta tester in hopes of getting her foot in the door to design games? All that would have done was take all the enjoyment out of video games, thus ruining them.
No, if she wanted to make a living playing video games, she’d have to find another way. Today’s tournament had even given Dee a few ideas, but she’d need to speak with the counselor again to iron out the details, and which courses she would need to drop. None of that was here or there, though. At the very least, it could wait until tomorrow.
When she passed a familiarly-decorated doorway, she was snapped out of her silent musing by the the shouting on the other side of the door. She knew it was none of her business, but her curiosity got the better of her. Not bothering to look at her friend’s face, she tapped Sweetie Belle on the shoulder and tilted her head toward the door.
“But, Daddy, why do I have to leave Canterlot High?” they heard Diamond Tiara whine. “You just said that we weren’t being expelled!”
“You can’t Daddy your way out of this problem, Diamond,” came Filthy Rich’s frustrated response. “Silversmith and I had to go before the board of trustees to promise even more support towards this institute than our sponsorship already provides, just to convince Their Highnesses not to expel you both from the program, and they were still incredibly displeased with us. If anything, you should be grateful; instead of an expulsion on your record when you apply for business school, you left voluntarily because you decided the program wasn’t for you.”
“But why are we even being asked to leave?” she grumbled, and Dee could hear something like the slamming of a dresser drawer. “It’s not like we broke any laws.”
Dee Pad could actually picture Silver Spoon just sitting on her bed, shaking her head at her friend with a sad expression. Diamond might not have recognized what they did as having been wrong, but if the letter was any indicator, Silver Spoon definitely did.
Another, gruff male voice voice answered, “No, not any laws,” leaving that we know of implied as he trailed off. “But you have both violated parts of the school charter. Silver Spoon, you’ve been rather quiet, so I assume you know exactly why this is happening.”
The long silence told the two eavesdroppers that Silver Spoon was probably the focus of attention inside the room. “Yes, Father,” she answered with a heavy sigh. “We’re being asked to leave because of the... inappropriate portions of our relationship, misuse of campus facilities, and disruptive behavior that could harm the image of the institute.”
“How... how is our relationship inappropriate!?” Diamond shouted. “Mares love each other all the time!”
“Diamond Tiara, we were having sex in the locker rooms, bathrooms, and pretty much anywhere we thought we could get away with it!” Silver Spoon screamed so loud that Dee was sure the entire dorm hall had heard. “We were making pornography and selling it on the internet! We even roped a few of our peers into it all! That is how it was inappropriate; if anyone had recognized any of the places we’d made videos, the school would be under intense scrutiny... Just think of what that would have meant for the businesses our fathers run if it got out we’d been making porn!”
The pair of eavesdropping friends realized that the conversation was likely to get a lot more awkward if they prolonged their stay. Besides, they had a place to be. Even as the voices in the room rose to a new decibel level, they were already off again. Though neither of them felt bad about Diamond and Silver Spoon getting scolded by their fathers, they still felt enough sympathy for them to know that they wouldn’t want anybody eavesdropping on them through it.
Dee tried to distract herself from the niggling sense that this all somehow tied into everything that had happened. What if the administration had looked into what she had been up to and somehow found a link to Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon? The rational part of her mind insisted that it was purely coincidental at best; they wouldn’t have been able to get enough dirt on them over the span of an afternoon. Nah, they were probably aware for months and were just waiting for the final straw.
It usually didn’t take as long as it had for her to get this far in the dorm hall. In fact, she even considered that they might have even run a loop once or twice back on the second floor. A glance at her friend explained why. Sweetie was holding onto her elbow while she chewed away at one frayed edge of her thumbnail. Her brows were knitted, and her gaze was unfocused; Dee wasn’t even sure that she’d heard any of the argument they’d been eavesdropping on.
Just as Dee was considering asking what was up, Sweetie paused in front of a door just around the corner from Diamond’s room. She stared at the door for a moment, as if seeking the answer to some unspoken riddle, before nodding to herself. The horn atop her head pulsed with a green aura, and a three note knocking resounded from the door. After a minute passed and no answer had come, she knocked again, louder this time.
“Could she be out?” Dee asked, eying the door with rapt attention. “Close to dinner, which means the matinee should still be on at the theater right now..”
“No, she’s in there, alright,” replied Sweetie Belle in a tone of finality. “We have a weekly video chat with another friend right around this time.” She frowned and looked away. “I kinda missed it because of everything that happened. She won’t have, though; it’s probably just a case of her headphones being too loud—again.”
Sweetie fumbled about in her handbag before withdrawing a key. “This is yours now,” she said, taking Dee Pad’s free hand in placing it in her palm. “Do you want to do the honors?”
She slid the key into the lock, but no sound was to be heard as the deadbolt slid out of place. Trembling slightly, her hand moved to the door handle. She almost pulled back—it almost felt like she was intruding on someone else’s life—but Sweetie Belle’s hand came down atop hers, and they opened the door together.
The room wasn’t at all what Dee expected, though that wasn’t exactly saying much. For having been the room of an asexual, she imagined the room would be decorated in a spartan manner—maybe a few photographs or mementos, but nothing else. What she hadn’t been expecting was one wall of the room being plastered with posters and pictures. Nor would she have thought she’d see a plain looking prosthetic limb propped up against the side of the bed. Most of all, though, she hadn’t expected a dark red flag displaying a blue shield with the yellow crest of a yellow horse rearing; it was the flag that Sweetie Belle’s childhood cadre had designed to represent their little group: the Cutie Mark Crusaders.
It all clicked into place. She recalled hearing that Apple Bloom had taken a prestigious apprenticeship under one of the top alchemical researchers working for the world’s leading pharmaceutical company, but that had resulted in her leaving the country for the Crystal Empire. Likewise, her cousin Babs Seed was already attending university, a benefit of her city education and the scholarship she’d won. Something about an essay on anti-bullying. Obviously, that left only one person that she was aware of: Scootaloo—the mare whose cerise mane she could see peeking over the top of a high-backed chair.
The making of a smile began to make its way across Dee’s face as her brisk pace brought her closer to her new roommate. If it was Scootaloo she’d be rooming with, things wouldn’t be too bad. In spite of the bullying she and her fellow Crusaders had faced, or maybe because of it, Scootaloo had become pretty fair-minded. Dee could even relate to her on the grounds of being self—
The occupant of the chair let out a low moan.
She froze in her tracks as she came up beside the chair. What have I walked in on? she asked herself in the silence of her mind. Spinning on her hoof, she turned to face Sweetie Belle with a crimson blush bleeding through the soft brown of her coat. Her hand trembled as she brought it up to her mouth to stifle her gasp.
“Sweetie, she’s—” Dee’s eyes flicked toward the chair before she shook her head and began staring at the ceiling with the full intent of not looking down again. The burning in her cheeks was almost too much to bear. Hadn’t anyone told her that she was getting a new roomie?
Sweetie Belle put her hand on Dee’s shoulder and lead her away from the chair. When her friend pushed her backwards onto a bare mattress, she finally allowed herself to look down again. “I’ll talk to her, okay?” she said with a forced smile. “You just... worry about calming down.”
A quick glance at her lap revealed that, in spite of what had happened today, she was not so traumatized that the male part of body would not react to an admittedly arousing sight. There was a small bulge rising beneath the skirt of her dress, and she was now minutely aware of how hard her penis ached and strained against her panties and spats. She placed her hands against the tent in her skirt to cover it up as she willed her erection to subside, but try as she might, she couldn’t get the sight out of her head.
Even as Sweetie Belle walked back to the chair, the image of its occupant danced at the forefront of Dee’s imagination. It didn’t matter that the chair was facing away from her; she could still see Scootaloo with her one leg up on the desk while her stump simply protruded over the edge of her chair. Her sports bra was pushed up over her breasts as she teased one of her nipples with a rather slick looking bullet vibrator. That did little to distract Dee from the fact that Scootaloo had her panties pushed aside and was pistoning a large black dildo into her pussy with great fervor. With her headphones on full blast, she was oblivious to the world.
It was hard enough trying not to be aroused by the sight, but she also found that she felt... kind of jealous—not of the toy, but Scootaloo. If I’d had a vagina, Sweetie would have fucked me silly last night, she thought with some consternation. This is so fucked up, what happened to the me that used to get off imagining myself being the one doing the penetration? I never even tried it and yet I...
A tear leaked down her cheek as she watched Sweetie Belle pluck the headphones off of Scootaloo’s head. Dee was certain that Sweetie was saying something, and judging by the now-airborne phallus, she had sufficiently startled the pegasus mare on the chair, but she couldn’t hear a word; blood roared like thunder in her ears, and each breath came faster and shallower than the last.
Her hands clutched the fabric of her dress tightly, and she found that she was trembling again. Why is it like this? she thought, struggling to prevent herself from hyperventilating. Every time something goes my way, something tears me down. I reconnected with Sweetie and the others abandoned me. I actually managed to enjoy myself being me while accepting the feminine me, and my mouth nearly got me sexually assaulted or worse... Now my body’s still reacting like a man; how can I live here in the women’s dorm like this? What was I thinking?
Before she knew what was happening, Sweetie Belle was right there with her, nearly crushing Dee as she was pulled into a warm embrace that reminded her dearly of her mother. It didn’t matter that Sweetie’s large breasts were squishing her own budding bosoms in that very moment; right then and there, she felt inexplicably safe... that nothing could hurt her there.
“Shh, it’s alright, Dee,” Sweetie soothed, pressing her forehead against Dee’s and stroking her mane. “You’re fine, see?”
Dee sucked in a deep breath through her mouth and held it for a moment before expelling the bad air through her nostrils. The barely audible tinkle of a magical field nearby was filling her ears. “Calming charm?” she asked once she no longer felt like her heart was going to race so out of control that she might have a heart attack.
Sweetie pulled away and, looking her in the eye, nodded. The green aura surrounding her horn faded away into nothing, and with some concern, she wiped a tear away from Dee’s face. “After what happened today, I’d been racking my brain trying to remember it,” she said. Flicking her eyes to the side, she added, “You were having another panic attack, Dee. Was it what happened today?”
Rather than answer, she looked away in order to hide the guilt on her face. “No, I... not exactly,” she fumbled, trying to sort out what she wanted to say in her head. “I mean, it crossed my mind, but it wasn’t what really set me off.” She unclenched her hands, wincing at the pain in her palms from where her nails had pinched her, even through the cloth.
“It was my erection, Sweetie,” she said. Turning to face Scootaloo, who, standing beside the bed, had at least had the decency to put on a pair of shorts. “I’m sorry Scootaloo; I didn’t mean to... I just—when I saw you clopping, my body reacted, and then I started thinking that I can’t stay here! How can I pretend to be a mare if I still react like a little colt with his first stiffie?”
Sweetie Belle opened her mouth to speak, but Scootaloo interrupted her, placing her hand on Sweetie’s shoulder and shaking her head. The unicorn mare nodded and gave Dee some space. “Dee, right?” she asked, a soft smile permeating her own still-flushed expression. When she received a nod, Scootaloo continued, “Yeah, I remember you! Long time no see. Sweetie told me you were having a bad time while you were freaking out...
“You said you reacted like a stallion when you saw me relieving a bit of stress back there,” she stated without accusation, “but what is it that you were thinking when you saw that?”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Sweetie asked, giving her friend a dirty look. “You can see that it bothered her, so—”
Scootaloo pressed a finger against her lips in a gesture of silence. “Hear me out,” she said, turning back to the brown earth pony on the bed. “Did you think to yourself, and pardon my language, ‘Damn, that’s some fine pussy; I’d love to stick my dick in it!’ or something similar?”
Both Dee’s and Sweetie’s jaws dropped as they stared at Scootaloo, blushing profusely. “I... but... no!”
“Did you think, ‘God, look at them slim titties; the small breasts get me so hard’ or anything about the nudity in general?” Dee shook her head. “You had to have thought something. Looking at you, you must have been on hormones for at least a year or two, so it’s not like it was just a random thing.” Scootaloo shrugged and walked backwards toward her own bed. “You can be honest here—no judgment.”
Looking away from Sweetie, Dee began to twiddle her fingers nervously. “I was... jealous,” she admitted. “I thought about last night, and how, if I’d had a vagina, Sweetie Belle would have gone all the way with me and not stopped after I’d given her the blowjob.” Her voice trembled and lost a bit of volume with every syllable, but when she next spoke, her voice was resolute. “I imagined myself in your position, but with Sweetie instead of the dildo... about how she could have fucked me silly.”
To say that Sweetie Belle looked embarrassed was putting it lightly. The mare looked like she could rival Apple Bloom’s brother in the red department. “J-just put it out there, why don’t you!” she stammered, shifting her gaze between the two. “Not like it wasn’t awkward for me too.” Her face was overtaken by a scowl and she quickly added, “And don’t be so open about my penis!”
Scootaloo shrugged, smiling at Dee Pad. “My point is that you weren’t turned on because you saw me having a go at myself,” she explained. “You got turned on because you had a thought that you found arousing. I call that perfectly normal for a stallion or mare.”
Dee began to smile, accepting Scootaloo’s explanation, until something occurred to her. “Wait, if you’re asexual, why were you clopping?”
“It just means that I’m not sexually attracted to stallions and mares,” she replied simply. “I’m not going to say no to a stress reliever that feels good just because it doesn’t match up with the perceptions of others. A girl has needs either way.”
Her smile returning, Dee collapsed back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “So that’s why you’ve been through so many roommates,” she said with a laugh. “For you it wasn’t anything sexual and they couldn’t live with your openness about it?”
“Yup?”
Finally, the dam burst, and Dee was in hysterics. The situation at that very moment just seemed so incredibly silly. She’d gone from being horrified that she’d walked in on her new roommate masturbating to openly talking about that very topic with the mare and admitting to having sexual thoughts in her presence. It sounds like some massive leadup to a joke. An asexual, a hermaphrodite, and a transmare all walk into a bar...
“Dee,” Sweetie Belle said softly. “I’m going to go grab us all some food, since neither of us have really eaten anything. In the meantime, maybe you should take some time to rest. Today’s been a long day, for you especially. Get some sleep, okay?”
Her diminutive friend barely responded with a weak nod. Sweetie was, after all, right; today had been exhausting both physically and mentally, especially when coming down off the emotional rollercoaster of the previous evening. At the very least, Dee could afford a few moments’ rest. She was safe here. Nobody was going to hurt her here; she’d just take a quick nap and...
After the sharing of pizza, some time spent just chatting among the three of them, and Dee unpacking enough not to spend the night dozing on a bare mattress, Sweetie Belle had to excuse herself, and the possibility for any further conversation died out when Scootaloo needed to finish up an assignment and call it a night. That left Dee lying on her bed, practically alone with her thoughts.
Throughout the night, she thought she might have nodded off, only to be awoken by a sudden cessation of Scootaloo's snoring. The noise didn't bother her, strangely enough. It reminded her that she was safe, that she wasn't alone, and that nobody was going to barge in and hurt her. As a result, she couldn't tell when she finally drifted off for good.
The first thing she noticed after the snoring faded away was that she was no longer in the dorm room. Gone were the beds, dressers, and Scootaloo's wall of posters, and so too was Dee's nightie. Instead, she found herself wearing the same dress she's worn to the Hot Trot Fever tournament, standing in line before the very arcade she's competed in only hours ago.
Unlike this afternoon, however, there were very few stallions or colts lined up outside the building. Instead, all of the ponies around her were mares, ranging from her own age to that of her mother. Much to her confusion, all of them were wearing outfits that could be considered nothing short of too risqué for public, particularly the well endowed mare in the microbikini and the one wearing only a thong beneath her assless chaps.
"This is going to be so much fun, don't you think?" said a familiar voice beside her. Why was that voice so familiar, though?
Dee froze mid-turn as she caught sight of the speaker. She'd seen that pony's face in the mirror enough times to be alarmed. To a certain extent, she was seeing herself standing beside her—only that wasn't entirely accurate. The pony she saw, while not Sweetie-tier, certainly was not lacking in the cleavage department, and her hips were much more pronounced than Dee’s. Both of these facts were made readily apparent by the scantily cut Neighponese school filly uniform intended for a pony of far less plentiful curves.
More to the point, it was as if she was Dee’s color inverse. Shades of blue adorned the mare instead of brown, yellow and orange. Even her eyes were a literal inversion of her own; sporting blue irises, white pupils, and black sclera, she had the look of sort of... slutty demon.
“What’s going to be fun?” she felt compelled to ask, even as some tiny part of her mind tried to inform her that something was not right. After all, Arcade Heaven was a family friendly establishment; they’d never allow such a fleshly collection of ponies to march on the place like some kind of streetwalker convention. Would they?
Dee’s doppelganger—eeD, her mind suggested—smiled at the question, as though she’d fully expected it. There was something about that smile that bothered her, though. After only a second’s ponderance, it occurred to her that it was the same sort of predatory, sexual smile Diamond Tiara often wore during their sessions: arrogant, with the self assurance of being dominant and in control.
“You don’t know?” eeD said in a tone that oozed condescension. “Oh, baby, I don’t wanna ruin the surprise. Just know that you’ll love it; you could even say it's right up your alley.”
All she could muster up was a frown at that assertion. There wasn't anything about what her doppelganger had said that should give her pause, but there was some niggling little whisper in the back of her mind insisting that none of this made sense. Why would it not make sense though? It wasn't so unusual to hang out with your opposite, and when you were invited out to an event, was it not polite to attend?
In the blink of an eye, Dee and eeD were stepping through the door. Much like when she was there earlier today, the arcade machines were all absent from the main floor; in their stead, a curved wall of curtained off booths blocked off the back of the arcade. Some of them were wide, and some appeared deeper than the others.
There was no registration desk, nor were there any indicators of what the event even was. Besides a sign above the booths proclaiming 'Ladies, claim your glory,' and a strange looking coin operated ATM, there was nothing—not even an arcade employee to be seen.
Unable to reign in her curiosity, she watched a mare in an old-timey showgirl outfit wiping her face clean with some kind of kerchief—Oh jeez those are panties!—as she approached the teller machine with a basket full of strange tokens. Before she could see what the machine actually did, however, her inverted companion pulled her sidelong into one of the unoccupied wide booths. "Uh-uh, no spoilers!" eeD said, a mischievous smile playing across her face as she pulled the curtain shut behind them. "It wouldn't be any fun if you got to see the reward before you play the game, right?"
Dee barely heard the mare. Her eyes were darting everywhere in the small room the moment her doppelganger pulled the privacy screen closed. The booth walls shimmered like a two-way mirror, but was supple to the touch, more like a membrane than a solid object. A single basket sat beneath a clear chute protruding from the wall near the curtain.
eeD strode up to the booth’s back wall and, with one dainty finger, she teased her finger at waist-height along the glossy, reflective surface. The wall quivered at her touch, ballooning out as though her fingertip were coaxing some eldritch eye out, and Dee could only watch in morbid curiosity as the bulge receded to reveal a large red griffon dick protruding from a hole in the wall far too small for it to have reasonably fit through. It glistened with moisture, as though the wall itself had lubricated it.
With a longing smile, eeD sank to her knees in front of the long tapered shaft. “Yeah, this is what you want, isn’t it?” she murmured, giving Dee a sidelong glance as she wrapped her fingers around the bulbous knot at the base. Without the slightest bit of resistance offered, her hand slid up the veiny shaft, past the narrow rim of glans, right to the very tip. “You want a place to vent all your lust and confusion, to go wild and suck as many cocks as you can, and maybe find out if it’s true what they say about the feminizing effects of cum, right?”
The young transmare could only stare, transfixed. Words of denial tried to force their way out of her throat as she watched the lewd display, for she desperately wanted to deny her doppelganger’s words, but all she could manage was a weak croak. Her hands trembled as eeD’s pistoned, smearing fresh pre up and down the length as quickly as it could dribble from the tip. It’s not true; I’m not like that!
“But that’s just the way you are now, isn’t it?” It was like the dick wasn’t really there for the mare, just an idle distraction during an otherwise uninteresting conversation. Not once did eeD break off eye-contact as she pleasured the griffon cock before her. Even as the shaft began to twitch, the knot inflating, and she turned her head to wrap her lips around the end of the cock, Dee could feel those white-pupiled eyes staring at her through the back of the mare’s skull.
“You gotta make others feel good in order to feel good about yourself, ‘cause that’s all you are: a perfectly trained slut,” came eeD’s voice, plain and clear, as if she hadn’t a mouthful of cock and cum. “But that’s okay! Just let yourself go, and you can feel good!”
Off in the corner by the curtain, a token dropped through the chute into the basket.
Her opposite’s hand shot out across the distance between them, further than the attached arm’s structure should have allowed, and forcefully drug her to the wall. Even as eeD’s hand forced her to coax a cock of her own from the wall, the chill of danger brought everything into crystal clear sharpness. This is dangerous, her mind screamed at her through the thinning stupor that had been plaguing her as long as she’d been around the mare. Nopony should be able to do that sort of thing; she’s even wearing your face! You need to run.
A black stallion cock throbbed against her palm, even as she fought eeD’s grip. From the other side of the wall she heard somepony groan, and the dick jumped in her fingertips. “A newbie, huh?”
The sound of the voice turned her blood to ice. It was a voice that she knew, one she imagined she would never forget as long as she lived. “Fuckin’ cunt!” echoed inside her mind, accompanied by the sight of a bathroom counter flying up to meet her. “Fuckin’ tease... humiliated me. This fiery little ass is mine.” The words didn’t sound fluid, as if they had been mixed together from separate recordings, offered up by her mind as what would have happened if not for Sweetie.
All fight left her as he spoke again. “It’s alright, it doesn’t bite,” her assailant said, and even as he spoke, she could remember the feeling of his hand on her ass, tugging down her spats and panties. “Though I might.”
Dee blinked away the tears that were beginning to obscure her sight, and suddenly aware that she herself was in a completely different position. Instead of standing before the wall, staring at the cock that could have raped her today, she found herself bent over, staring at eeD as the succubine doppelganger worked a large Diamond Dog cock between her breasts. Any attempt to move her arms came with unyielding resistance, and a single look downwards revealed her torso protruding from the wall itself.
This time, it wasn’t her imagination. A hand firmly cupped her boyish rump, and a thumb toyed with her tail beneath her dress. “Now, this is a much nicer apology, isn’t it?” the bastard said as another hand, and then yet another went beneath the skirt of her dress to grip her behind. “If you’d simply offered yourself up like this, to your superior, as you should have, none of that shit woulda had to happen?”
Countless fingertips raced up and down her thighs, legs, and lower back like millions of insects. She was being touched everywhere but her groin, and she found herself wishing he’d just touch her there, and find out the truth. A beating would be better.
The teasing touches ceased, and his hands once again clamped down on her waist, flipping her dress up over her back. Fingertips slid beneath the waistband of her spats and panties. She bit her lip and bade her stomach not to loose its contents onto the floor before her, even as her throat burned with nonexistent bile; it’d be over soon enough. Rather than simply tug the garments down her legs, as he had before, he literally tore them both from her hips.
“Yes, you were, a fiery little thing, weren’t you?” The voice came as a whisper in her ear, as though the booth wall wasn’t there at all. “But you’re mine now and forever!”
She blinked once, and then twice again. Why isn’t he screaming and raging about me being a sissy freak. He can’t be blind, right? She chanced a glance over her shoulder, and the booth was gone. Instead of the mirror-like paneling of the wall, she could see him as clearly as she had before, even if his face seemed waxy and partly melted and he sported far too many hands to be normal. In fact, she wasn’t even trapped inside a wall now; she was pinned against a countertop once more, her arms trapped beneath her suddenly swollen breasts as hands pressed her shoulders down.
An unfamiliar sensation radiated up from between her haunches as he ground his shaft between her buttocks. There was no pressure as her shrunken testes were crushed against her, nor any throbbing from her traitorous cock; neither sensation was to be found at all. Instead, she felt... squishy.
“Wait, please no!” she squealed, struggling against the grip of her nameless attacker and clamping her thighs shut. “Not this; please not, this!”
“Oh, but you know you want it!” he said, and to her ears his voice sounded distorted, as though spoken through fluid. “Just look at yourself in the mirror.”
Another hand shot out of his misshapen shoulder, clamping around the back of her head. As much as she wanted to not see what he meant, her head was painfully wrenched painfully ahead. There, in the mirror, was eeD, her dark reflection, lips curled up in a lustful grin. Her eyes spoke volumes. “This is what you wanted.”
The head of his cock pressed up against the opening she never had, and she screamed. “No, no, no!”
“Stop right there!” a number of voices boomed from the doorway. “We won’t let you do this.” Before he could press himself further into her, past a maidenhead that was never there, she felt him torn away from her. The mirror shattered and the counter crumbled beneath her, both becoming a fine dust vanishing into a nonexistent breeze.
The moment she hit the tile floor, she pressed her back into the wall and hugged her legs close to her. In addition to protecting herself from further abuse, the action served to put the source of the voices into focus. In that moment, she didn’t know whether to laugh or to cry. There, standing in the doorway, she could see Sweetie Belle, Twist, Scootaloo, and Applebloom as she had looked as a filly. The sight of them launching themselves at the stallion, suspended in the air in Sweetie’s magical grip made her laugh, simply because it made no sense to her.
Fists and hooves, though none of them his, flew, and Dee managed to suppress a sympathetic wince as her twice would-be-rapist took a blow to the scrotum from the comically tiny Apple Bloom’s hooves. While Sweetie Belle held him harmlessly above the ground, Twist wailed on him with an oversized candy cane. Scootaloo even popped off her prosthetic leg to give him a few whacks. But in spite of the stallion’s crimes, it never got excessively violent.
Following Apple Bloom’s coup de grace, he clutched his ruined pride and dropped out of Sweetie’s green field of magic, falling to the floor in a heap. Each of the mares gave him a kick in the behind before going to wrap their arms around Dee.
“It’s alright,” Sweetie whispered into her ear, stroking her mane gently as the stallion-turned-literal-mare watched Twist pull a phallic looking piece of striped candy from seemingly nowhere. They both winced as the pudgy red-head licked it once before inserting it into the defeated villain’s bottom. “He can’t hurt you now. You have us.”
Dee closed her eyes and sucked in a steadying breath before looking to the door once more. There, standing in the shadows, was the form of a small mare or young child. An ethereal mane and billowed behind her in the nonexistent wind. Though she could not see the pony’s face, she thought she could see a smile crease their muzzle.
Thank you, Princess Luna.
As if none of that had just happened, Dee turned her gaze back to Sweetie Belle, who was now sprawled out on a bed wearing only a very transparent nightgown and not much else. “You know... You’re all mare right now...”
Maybe things aren’t okay right now, and maybe I’m really screwed up in the head, but for now, I think I deserve a little break.
} 08 {
The buzzing of an alarm clock roused Dee Pad from the warm confines of her blankets and the eventful nightmare turned dream. There was no anger at being drawn out of it sooner than she’d have liked; she knew that all good things had to come to an end. Besides, she had a whole lot to do today that simply couldn’t be done if she was asleep.
With that in mind, she rose from her bed, letting the blanket fall free from her half-dressed form. At that same moment, the lamp beside Scootaloo’s own bed flickered to life, revealing the young mare sitting up in bed, fumbling with the off button on her clock’s alarm even as her free hand wiped the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes.
Dee nodded, noting that at some point in the Scootaloo’s own sleep, her shorts and t-shirt had been removed, seemingly cast about the room haphazardly. She double checked to make sure that she had not also disrobed while she was sleeping, and was still wearing the admittedly revealing pink babydoll she’d put on before bed “Yeah, I think so.”
Scootaloo’s cheeks flushed slightly, and the mare let out a laugh. “Looks like you had some good dreams, at least,” she said with a gentle smile. “Might wanna go take a shower.”
It was only belatedly that the young transmare realized that her panties felt somewhat damp in front. “Wha—oh crap!” Despite Scootaloo clearly not caring, Dee’s hands shot down to cover the wet spot in her undergarment. “Um, you mind if I take the shower first?”
Her roommate gave herself a sniff, and shrugged. “I’ll be alright if I wait a bit longer, and I imagine you wanna rinse that before it stains.”
For the first time in what felt like months, Dee allowed herself a smile. “Laugh it up, but cum stains are a bitch to get out,” she replied, grabbing her toiletries from her bag. “I’ll try not to take too long, though. Feel’s like I’ve been asleep for months on end.”
A hulking armored mare charged through a hail of laser and machinegun fire, ignoring or unaware of the glancing blows that peeled away chunks of self-regenerating power-armor. To her right, a grenade exploded, blowing a large chunk out of her hip armor. She raised her plasma-caster and fired in the direction of the heretic that had foolishly thrown the grenade, not sparing a second glance to the smaller stallion as he crumpled to the ground with a smoking hole in his chest. Her only thought was reaching the daemonic figure commanding the cultist horde.
Behind her, a squad of marksmares provided covering fire to the three heavily armed ponies that followed in the wake of the lone wolf. The heretics charged and fell before their superior weapons and armor, and before long, a path had been cleared through the horde. Nopony would stop the ponies of the Blood Pegasi from confronting the daemonhost head-on; not the heretics, not the xenos, and certainly not these puny traitors who had abandoned this world in favor of Chaos.
With a battle cry that sent the smaller cultists fleeing, the lone power-armored pony battered her way through a group of smaller daemons, urged on by an unseen commander. By all rights, even with her superior armor and weapons, she was vastly outnumbered. Self-repairing or not, repeated lasfire would eventually open her armor like a tin-can—anypony could recognize that—but still she charged on. She could not fail; she would not.
An ear splitting roar filled the air, and a large pod smashed into the bulk of the horde like a cannonball. Those not outright killed by the fiery impact were quickly dispatched as the sides of the orbital drop pod burst free, disgorging the singular, gigantic passenger. A deafening voice erupted from the vox-caster mounted on the massive, mechanical chassis, warning all, “I have come to destroy you!” Even as the mech spoke, gouts of blue flames erupted from ports on its claws, burning away those foolish enough to rush the mechanized reinforcement.
From her perch at a free computer in the guidance office, Dee stared down at the battlefield with glee as her dreadnought linked up with her force commander, while her tactical and scout marine squads joined forces with some friendly AI units. The skirmish was far from over, but things were definitely going in her favor. Leaning back, she decided that the game was a nice change of pace, and silently thanked whoever had installed it on the system.
“Button Ma—er, Dee Pad,” the secretary called out from behind her own computer monitor, producing an audible click of her teeth as she corrected herself. “Miss Role is ready to see you now.”
“Alright, thank you,” she replied, closing out the game. With a glance at the clock in the corner of the screen, Dee saw that she’d been playing the game for the better part of thirty minutes, and had been there an additional twenty that she’d spent doing some quick research. With a few keystrokes, she closed out the web browser window in the background and logged out of the school network.
Gathering up a few papers she’d printed out from the communal printer, she rose from her seat and, with but a cursory smoothing of her skirt, made for the office door marked Leading Role—below read Guidance Counselor & Assistant Director for Drama Programme. Dee knocked twice.
“Enter.”
The pegasus mare did not look up from the spread of papers on her desk when Dee entered, nor did she stop flicking through the large binder on her side desk with a primary feather. “Good morning, Ms. Role,” Dee said. Though the chair opposite Leading was unoccupied, Dee didn’t immediately seat herself. If not for the downward cast of her face amplifying the furrow of her brow, Dee might have thought Leading Role was scowling.
So she just stood there, watching as the guidance counselor filled out paperwork. Leading didn’t look like she would outright berate Dee for speaking out of turn, but she had seen this sort of tactic from her mother enough to know that the mare just wanted to make her sweat. It was the sort of silence that told her, “You’re a real pain, so you have to sit in silence as penance.”
After a few minutes, Leading Role put down her stylus and heaved a heavy sigh as she dragged the binder in front of her. The book was open to a print-out of the former Button’s student record. Looking up from her desk, the middle-aged mare steepled her hands in front of her and fixed Dee with a critical stare. “You may be seated.” Once the young transmare had taken a seat across from her, she frowned. “You know that I’m here for more than just guidance in choosing your educational path, right?”
Though the mare’s tone lacked any anger, Dee still shrank in her seat tilted her head forward in a nod, putting her bangs between her and the older mare. “Yes, Miss Role.”
After a moment’s contemplation, Leading Role continued. “It really hurts to hear that one of the students decided to undergo such a life-altering decision without discussing it with a therapist or any of the institute’s staff. To just have this sprung on us all reflects rather poorly on the staff, if you think about it. If the students won’t talk to us, doesn’t it seem like they don’t trust us?”
Shifting in her seat in a vain attempt to stave off the discomfort of this self-imposed situation, Dee forced herself to meet the counselor’s gaze. “I know, I know.” clutching her sheaf of papers against her lap, she looked away. “This whole thing has just been so... messed up. I barely even knew what I was doing myself, and I only just reached the conclusion myself yesterday. I just... I know I should have talked to someone sooner.”
How could I have, she asked herself. I only just decided yesterday, and that’s only because my hand had been forced when we crossed the line with the hormones. How could I have spoken to anybody about this without getting Diamond and Silver expelled? They sexually abused me, but I liked what we were doing... and now they’ve abandoned me. That’s not the sort of thing you can just talk to a school counselor about, is it?
“Yes, I understand you’ve been through a lot over the last few days,” Leading replied in a softer tone. “Morning Oak tells me you came out in a most spectacular fashion, and after what you went through at the arcade, I imagine that you feel on edge. With that in mind, I want to ask how you are doing. Any problems since you moved into the other dorm?”
Dee shook her head. Beyond the somewhat unsettling dream, she hadn’t had any problem at all. None of the other young women in the dormitory had given her any problems yet, and if the announcement on the corkboard in the dorm’s lobby was any indicator, Evening Primrose was already making it clear that Dee—although not outright naming her—was to be treated just like the other mares there. So far, only a few had flagged her, and fewer yet had given her dirty looks in the commissary. She relayed all of this.
“That’s good to hear,” she said, fixing Dee with a smile. “I hope you’ll keep either myself or Primrose appraised of any situations that may arise. Remember that we are here to help you.”
A weak imitation of Leading Role’s smile creased Dee’s face. “Thank you,” she said, her cheeks flushing red. “I’ll try, but...”
“Yes?”
“I actually wanted to meet with you about the courses and the career direction I’m presently taking,” Dee continued, placing her papers on the table. “When I started here, I wanted to get into the video game industry. I still do, but I know now that being a Quality Assurance tester isn’t going to get me in the right places.”
Pushing forward the top sheet, Dee lit out a sigh of frustration. “QA testing sounded like a dream for any gamer. Get paid to play games while they get made. These figures show attrition rates to be fairly high, with only a select few hanging on for extended periods of time. Job conditions are generally poor, and with little to no benefits or reward,” she explained. “Many ex-QA testers even start to hate video games altogether.”
With a sigh of exasperation, she hugged her arms close to herself and watched as the counselor looked over the paper. “Games have been a passion of mine since I was a child. I still want to be involved with video games, but I don’t wanna be one of those ponies whose passion has become a loathing.”
Leading Role pursed her lips. “Do you have some sort of other plan?”
Before she spoke up again, Dee fished out a clipping from the newspaper—the advertisement for yesterday’s event—that she had in her purse, placing it on top of the three remaining sheets of paper and pushing the collection across the desk. “Ideally, I’d like to become involved in the sort of events such as the one outlined in the advertisement there,” she said, folding her hands before her on the edge of the desk. “Even if not as a regular participant in the professional circuit, just working on these sorts of promotional events would be more than enough for me. At least, that’s what my cutie mark is telling me.”
“Your cutie mark,” the counselor muttered, flicking her eyes to the corner of the page, where gray crossmark bore inset triangles seemingly pointing the four cardinal directions of a compass. “A cross?”
Dee couldn’t help but smile at the mare’s lack of knowledge regarding the simplest parts of gaming. With a gentle shake of her head, she explained, “A D-pad—a directional pad, otherwise known as a control pad; it’s a thumb-operated input found on most handheld gaming devices, or on controllers for the console based ones. It is used for controlling character movements, or selecting options from a menu or dialogue box.
“When I was a kid, I thought I got my cutie mark simply because I liked to play video games,” she continued, her smile abating somewhat. “But that wasn’t true. Truth is that I never actually noticed I’d gotten my cutie mark until I was getting changed for bed. It was the same day I helped Sweetie Belle. I never put two and two together then, but I know better in retrospect.”
“Hindsight is twenty-twenty, or so they say,” Leading Role interjected.
“Yeah,” agreed Dee. “My special talent isn’t video games, though it can shine through in how well I play. It’s playing a role—something I’d been doing inadvertently all my life. I played the supportive role and helped Sweetie get her mark, and at the tournament yesterday, I was someone in it to win it. When I play games, I just get into it, like I’m right there alongside the characters.”
At this, the counselor frowned. “The way you describe it, it sounds like you’d be better off in the drama programme.” She picked up a pen and jotted a few notes on the print-out of Dee’s old student record. “Does that sound like something that might interest you or benefit your prospects?”
This question caused Dee reason for pause. Acting, or even just learning to perform in front of crowds would be useful. In a way, she’d already been doing that on a relatively small scale, such as the encounter at the cafe the other day, and being on display at the tournament was pretty enjoyable, though in both instances, they were on the fly. Being able to do so in a more deliberate manner would be good if she ever ended up in a position like Gravenicker.
“Sure,” Dee said, grinning. “I’m still not perfect at presenting, so the way I see it, drama would be beneficial anyhow.”
Pausing for a moment, she tapped the pen against her lip before nodding. “Alright, let’s discuss your course options. It sounds like computer sciences will be coming off...”
Following her meeting with Leading Role, Dee was swept up in the chaos of school-life for the rest of the week. For all the thought she’d put into it that morning, she hadn’t really been prepared for just how much of an upheaval she’d committed herself to. By the time Friday came around, she almost found herself wanting to go back, but there was no turning back now.
The professors of the classes that she pulled out of were sorry to see her go. The turnaround in her work effort had not gone unnoticed, and all of them wished her the best of luck both in her studies and her transition. At the end of each of those encounters, however, she found herself with the lingering impression that their well wishes—their offerings of good luck—came with an unspoken caveat: “You’ll need it.”
Of the courses she’d picked up, only one of them did not come with some sort of huge catch-up assignment. Leading Role, who had accepted Dee into her class of students, only asked that Dee read up on the current production, to learn as many roles as possible, so as to play understudy at a moment’s notice.
Other than that, she had little issue adapting to the social structure of the class. Though initially volunteering to help with the work of the students who’d drawn the lots to be stagehands for the production, Dee found herself in the unique position of taking a genuine interest in one of the secondary roles: a mare who’d been born a stallion. When somepony had joked that the young mare who’d initially been chosen for the role should defer to Dee on grounds of living the role, it was all she could do not to blush and politely refuse.
If only the other courses had been as lax in accepting her. The two other classes she’d taken—introduction to business, and a mathematics geared towards accounting—both had a number of catch-up exams for her to undergo. Though the classes were interesting, she had placed herself in the unenviable position of trying both to pay attention to the present lessons, as well as trying to cram for the exams.
Each night, she spent two hours per course, just trying to get up to speed. She barely had enough time keep up with her friends. And really, she had nobody to blame but herself. Leading role had suggested simply dropping the courses she had for that semester and pick up the other two in the next, but Dee had insisted on graduating alongside the rest of her year.
Still, Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, and even Twist made time to be there for her. She never found herself for want of company when breaking for lunch, with two of the three sitting down with her, if nothing more than to keep her from going back to her old reclusive ways. Twist, oddly enough, always seemed to make the time to say “Hello,” in the halls and offer up sweets, which the mare never seemed to be in short supply of.
When she finally finished the exams on Friday, she was mentally exhausted. It’d been a week of hell, but she’d finally gotten to a point where she could continue on as close to as normal as it could be said to get. Getting back to her shared room, she wanted nothing more than to just kick back and relax for a little bit.
} 10 {
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Scootaloo said as she returned from her morning run Saturday morning. Although the amputee pegasus was pretty casual about nudity, and truth be told Dee was thankful for how comfortable she found it made her with herself, the casual stripping still caught her off guard. “Where did you get those hormones? I mentioned them to Apple Bloom, and neither she nor the alchemist she’s studying under had heard of anything like it.”
Looking away, Dee pawed through her clothes, looking for something appropriate. “I got them from Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara,” she said, frowning as she came across the t-shirt proclaiming her to be a butt slut. “Beyond that, I have no idea. I’m not sure I want to ask.” She dropped the tee and gently squeezed her bare breasts. Since Monday, they’d undergone a growth spurt of sorts, and she’d gone from what Scootaloo had called a delicate flat chest to almost matching the mare in cup size. “I’m not sure I want to. Just thinking about what this could be used for, it sends shivers down my spine.”
Her roomie nodded and flopped naked onto her swiveling desk chair. “No shit,” she muttered, staring up at the ceiling. “So how come you’re not dressed yet? Usually you’ve decided on an outfit for the day by the time I’m back from my run.”
It took a while for her to respond. For a couple of minutes, she just kept rifling through her drawers, hoping desperately she might find something she liked. After all, she hadn’t seen her mother since she started all of this, and it felt like years since this all started. One did not just show up at a meeting with their mother and say, ‘Surprise, mom, I have boobs now.’ Did they?
It took her even longer for it to click that Scootaloo had asked a question. “I’m supposed to meet with my mom today. She—I’m pretty sure she doesn’t know yet.” Dee Pad stepped away from her dresser and let gravity drop her onto her bed, clothed only in the panties she’d put on since her shower. “What do you even wear for this sort of occasion?”
Scootaloo thought for a moment before looking across the room to her friend. “Whatever you want,” she said in a serious tone. “Your mom’s either going to accept you for who you are, or she’ll reject you outright and you can start completely fresh with our support.” She shrugged and spun her chair a couple of revolutions. “Either way, pick something you’re comfortable with.”
A smile came to Dee’s face as she thought about the outfit she’d worn the night Sweetie Belle had re-entered her life. The skirt was probably too much, but the blouse and jacket combination definitely cut a feminine look on its own. Likewise, she had a pair of cute low-rise jeans that would really show off her butt. A feminine look without being overwhelming.
Of course, thoughts about the previous Saturday night brought extremely mixed feelings in addition to the memory of what she’d worn. There was the obvious distress regarding what had happened and the realization that what had really been going on with Diamond and Silver was pretty exploitative. They’d warped her entire life, right?
On the other hand, aside from all of the drama of the night, there was no denying that that the sexual contact between the two was pretty erotic. There was no forgetting the warmth and weight of Sweetie’s impressive shaft in her hand, or the texture of her shaft against her tongue. Just the memory of Sweetie Belle’s taste caused a stirring in her knickers.
“Aw heck...” she groaned, futilely attempting to drown her arousal with thoughts of unsexy things. “You think if Apple Bloom can accidentally make Sweetie a boy while trying to make her taller, she could... I dunno, make a potion that would do the opposite?”
Scootaloo stopped spinning in her chair and sat her head on her hand. “She could probably try, but what would that actually accomplish?” she replied, glancing over at her shoulder. From Dee’s spot on the bed, she could just make out the wry arch of her friend’s eyebrow. “Look, suddenly having a vagina isn’t going to make any of this less awkward for you. Sure, you won’t be tenting your panties nearly as often, but it’s not changing the base issue.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Dee’s response was perhaps a bit more curt than she’d intended, but she was feeling frustrated in more than one way.
“You’re getting all wigged out every time you get a boner, right?” Scootaloo tossed a pen into the air and caught it on the tip of her muzzle. “It just means all that sexual frustration is building up. You’re not allowing yourself any sort of outlet, acting like you’re going to get in trouble if you let off a bit of steam. So you start getting stressed, and then you have another sexy thought, and you get more stressed.”
The chair turned in Dee’s direction, once again revealing her roomie’s nudity. “I’m just saying that there’s nothing wrong with getting off, y’know?” She crossed her legs and leaned forward. “And, if you ever wanted to just try it, I’d be open to fooling around. I mean, you need to unwind, I don’t say no to a bit of pleasure... Don’t get me wrong, it’d be just sex. You just need to get it out of your system and do it for yourself, not someone else.”
In spite of herself, the transwoman in the room found herself laughing hysterically. “I really do have it bad, don’t I?” Her mirth was so great that she was unsurprised to find her vision unobscured by tears. “Diamond and Silver have me so screwed up about sex, and the asexual girl’s telling me I need to get laid.” She wiped her forearm across her eyes, and gave her friend a smile. “Maybe some other time, when my head’s a bit less fucked, but I really need to get dressed and get going. Sweetie Belle’s going with me to make this a bit easier.”
} 10 {
Donut Joe’s was pretty crowded for a Saturday afternoon, Dee reflected as she sat with Sweetie Belle. Usually, it was pretty empty at this time of day, but it seemed like plenty of the Canterlot High students had shared the same idea, meeting up with family here on the last Saturday of the month. As a result, the not-quite-couple picked a corner booth that’d give them a good view of the entrance.
The plan, so much as it could be called such, was relatively simple. They were both fairly certain that Dee’s mother probably wouldn’t recognize her right off the bat—the cosmetic frames helped with the whole Supermare Effect—making it more likely that Sweetie Belle would be recognized first. Assuming that this much went off without a hitch, Sweetie would wave her over, strike up a conversation, and when Button inevitably came up, segue into that.
Neither of them were under any illusions that things would be nearly that simple. Between the two of them, they’d seen enough movies, read enough stories, and played enough games to know better than to expect any plan to survive past the first step. Heck, the entire first stage of the plan banked on not being recognized! If Mom recognized her from the start, it might be a bit more awkward to explain.
Fidgeting in her seat, Dee glanced at the door before leaning close to Sweetie. “Kind of an out-of-the-blue question,” she whispered just loud enough to be heard over the din of the cafe. Her chin rested on the back of her hand, and though she was undoubtedly flushed, she found herself smiling. “Has Scootaloo ever offered to...”
Before she could finish her sentence, she found Sweetie Belle’s hand blocking her from completing her sentence. “To answer your question, yes, but don’t let it rub you the wrong way,” she replied, blushing even brighter than Dee. “She doesn’t mean anything by it—literally.”
Chuckling, Dee pushed away the silencing hand, she shook her head. “I know that, Sweetie. I was just wondering if you thought I should—”
“Sweetie Belle!” a voice called from the front of the shop. It had only been a week since she’d heard it last, and though it felt like another lifetime, there was no mistaking the owner of that voice. “Sweetie Belle, dear, is that you!?”
Dee froze, praying desperately that she wouldn’t make eye contact with her mother. Even so. As much as one couldn’t tear their gaze away from an impending train wreck, she could not prevent her traitorous eyes from looking at the woman who’d birthed and raised her. It was, after all, the first time since the start of term that she’d seen her mom. All she could do was watch in a fearful stupor.
“Miss Coddle!” Sweetie called back, beckoning her forward with a wave of the hand that had only moments before silenced Dee. “It’s been what, eight years?”
The older mare smiled, the light brown of her face creasing with the laugh lines of a life well lived. “At least, but please call me Molly. We’re both adults now, and the miss just makes me feel like an old schoolmarm” she replied, joining the pair and seating herself opposite them. As she took her seat, a thoughtful look crossed her muzzle. “I remember you up and vanishing for a week, and then you and Button never really hung out much after that.” She pulled up her sleeve and glanced at the watch on her wrist. “I was supposed to be meeting him here, but it would seem he’s late. Probably off playing with that Joy Boy of his and forgot we were going to meet.”
As if on queue, Sweetie smiled and reached across the table. “I’m sure Button will be along when he’s ready to make an appearance,” she said softly. “We’d be more than willing to keep you company until then, right Dee?”
Snapping out of her daze, Dee swallowed the lump in her throat and bobbed her head in agreement. She tried to say something, anything, but all she could manage was a muttered, “M’kay.”
As if noticing for the first time Sweetie Belle wasn’t alone, Molly looked to Dee and let out a surprised gasp. “Are you alright, dear?” She leaned in closer, brushing a few stray locks of of orange out of Dee’s face before touching her forehead. Dee did her best not to flinch or draw more attention to herself “You feel a little warm, are you—” She drew her hand back suddenly before laughing nervously. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. You reminded me a bit of my son for a moment, and I acted without thinking. You do seem familiar though.”
Dee looked down at her own lap to hide her anxiety and in a soft, almost childish tone, murmured, “S’fine.”
“Sorry, my friend is just a bit nervous,” Sweetie interjected quickly. “She did something stupid and ended up in a few videos on the internet.” That was certainly not in the script, Dee noted with growing alarm. She fought off the urge to give her friend a warning glance. “She’s worried someone might recognize her and harass her.”
“Oh,” Molly Coddle replied, reclining back in her seat and running fingers through her blond mane. Her green eyes flicked to Dee, and then a crimson flush spread across her face. “Ooooh...”
I don’t like the sound of that, she thought, looking back up to her mother. I really don’t...
“Er, I can kinda see why you might be a bit anxious about that,” Molly added with a nervous titter. “I thought you looked familiar. There’s nothing to be ashamed of though; they were very enjoyable videos.” As if picking up on the mounting discomfort Dee was feeling, she quickly changed the topic. “Your transition’s certainly come a long way, hasn’t it?”
Eyes wide, Dee stared at her mother. Her ears drooped as her breathing picked up. “Oh no,” she whimpered, her voice slipping into Button’s old tones. She started pressing on Sweetie’s arm, trying to get her to let her out of the booth. “She’s seen...” With a sudden finality, her stomach decided that she probably shouldn’t have eaten anything. “Move, Sweetie! ‘m gonna be sick.”
Succeeding in displacing her friend, Dee Pad rocketed from the booth. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled not to be violently ill in the middle of the cafe. Of all the things that could happen,she decided as she burst into the women’s room, this was most assuredly the worst possible thing!
} 10 {
At the sight of her friend’s terrified expression and subsequent flight, it occurred to Sweetie Belle just how badly she’d stuck her hoof in her mouth. Not only had Molly Coddle recognized Dee—and for the wrong reasons, no less—she’d apparently seen and enjoyed the videos!? The situation had gone from informing her that “Your child is transitioning from male to female,” to “You’ve just told your transitioning daughter that you’ve seen the porn she’s starred in before you’ve even been told she’s your daughter.”
As she sat back down in the booth, she planted her face in her palms and groaned. “Why did I have to bring up the videos?” she cursed herself out loud. “Shouldn’t have waited for something to break the tension; I should’ve just ripped the bandage off and been done with it.”
Molly looked in alarm from Sweetie Belle to the direction of the bathroom. “Sweetie, dear, is she...” She shook her head, dismissing the thought. “Of course she’s not alright. Do you think we should go help her?”
No, Sweetie decided, not yet.
“Wait,” she said, reaching across the table to grasp the older mare’s hand. “There’s something you should know about her.” Her brows furrowed as she stared at the polished wooden surface, and she silently apologized to her friend for doing wasn’t her place to do. “There’s a much bigger reason that she’s freaked out about this than just someone recognizing her from the videos.”
Looking Molly Coddle in the eye, Sweetie Belle said, “My friend, Dee Pad, was so disturbed by you recognizing her from the videos because it was you, Molly.”
The motherly woman glanced at the bathroom door before returning her gaze to Sweetie’s serious expression. “I don’t understand,” she whispered. “What are you trying to say?”
“She was so disturbed because you’re her mother.”
All at once, the blonde’s disposition changed. Her eyes widened, though they were focused solely on the bathroom door now. Her face was visibly paler beneath that soft chocolate coat of hers. Probably worst of all, she did something Sweetie Belle had never heard from the mare in all her years of knowing her.
“Oh fuck,” she whispered to herself more than to anybody else. “And I... I told her I enjoyed...”
A retching sound came from Molly’s throat, even as she covered her mouth with her hand. Tears rimmed her eyes as she forced herself to her hooves. No sooner had she cleared the booth did she too rush into the restroom.
Sweetie Belle shook her head and slowly rose to her hooves as well. In spite of the seriousness of the situation, she could not hold back a laugh that felt quite hollow. Today was certainly a day of firsts. It was the first time she’d ever actually seen a person—two, in fact—get so panicked that they quite literally made themselves ill. Never before had she stood witness to a reveal befitting a slot on Cherry Springer-Spaniel. Finally, it was the first time she’d ever heard her childhood friend’s mother, a mare who took care of the foals of others for a living, swear—disregarding entirely that she was apparently into some very niche porn.
I don’t know whether or not things were about to get better or worse for Dee, she decided as she followed after her friend’s mother. I don’t even know if I’ll ever look at her mom the same way again either way.
