Humans Have No Modesty
James nearly choked on his sandwich. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
His college classmate, Razor Wind, slurped noisily from his can of soda and leaned closer. “I said, ‘humans have no modesty’. That’s a universal problem on Earth, right?”
“Razor, don’t say things like that!” snapped his other classmate, Potluck. “Where’s your cultural sensitivity?”
James blinked a couple of times and drummed his fingers on the cafeteria table. “Okay, that’s… going to need a little bit of unpacking. I know the words, but I’m pretty sure I’m not thinking about the same context you are.”
Razor tilted his head. “Eh? What makes you say that?”
“See, I’m pretty sure that most humans have some modesty.”
That remark earned him a puzzled frown from Potluck.
“Wait, what? Most humans? If that’s the case, then by some astronomical stroke of luck, all of the humans we’ve seen so far must be in the minority without modesty. You included!” Potluck then winced. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to insinuate that—”
“Okay, okay, hold up. This a clear sign that we’re not on the same page,” James cut in with a quick wave of his hand. He paused to take a sip of coffee, and then continued, “I mean, let’s talk about ‘modesty’. What do you mean by that?”
“It’s a pretty basic word?” Razor coked an eyebrow and made a vague, circular gesture with his right wing. “You know, not showing your naughty bits and all that?”
James nodded. “Yeah, we humans share that definition. It’s why we wear clothes.”
“Huh? But I thought humans wear clothes specifically because you don’t have any modesty!” cried Potluck.
James froze for a second or two before casting a quick glance around the busy cafeteria. Unfortunately, a couple of girls passing by had heard that little outburst, and were giving them confused scowls as they walked away, muttering to each other in hushed tones.
Potluck’s ears flattened as Razor gave him a sly wing-slap on the shoulder, and his sky-blue coat turned bright red around his face. He then mumbled something under his breath and stuffed an entire doughnut into his mouth with magic.
James stifled a chuckle and shook his head. “Okay, you’ve lost me again.”
“But, but it’s such a simple concept!” Razor scoffed and fluttered his wings again. “Like, modesty is how we hide our ding-dongs!”
“You mean, like clothes? Is it some kind of underwear?”
“Uh, no…?” Razor rolled his eyes and shifted his chair so that James had a clear view of his fuzzy belly in all its naked glory. He then gestured at his crotch with a hoof. “See?”
James stared for a couple of seconds, wondering if there was some camouflaged garment or doodad that he was supposed to be looking at. The location of Razor’s bellybutton was obvious, thanks to the swirling pattern of his coat alignment in that area, but anything below that was mostly a smooth, featureless sea of purple fuzz, with a bit of pinkish skin partially visible where it was thinner. Really, if it hadn’t been for the folds of skin and his breathing, anyone might’ve mistaken him for a stuffed toy instead of a living creature at first glance.
Then, it finally dawned on him.
“Oh, bloody hell,” he said, smacking his head. “It’s magic, isn’t it?”
Razor gave him a half-lidded stare. “Duh.”
He snorted and threw up his hands. “Well, how the heck was I supposed to know that you guys have such a mundane term for a spell? You would’ve saved so much time if you just started off by saying it’s magic.”
“Mmph!” Potluck held up a hoof and gulped down the remains of his doughnut. “But it’s not really classified as magic. Modesty doesn’t require any power or conscious thought to maintain. Also, quit presenting, Razor. People are going to notice!”
Razor ignored him. “Yeah, it’s kind of a metaphysical thing in Equestria. Everypony has it. Well, except foals because they’re too young to know any better, and some ponies with the hereditary disorder. Auto-Modesty Deficiency Syndrome – AMDS for short – is quite common in some places like Manehattan, which is why so many ponies wear clothes over there. It’s considered polite even if they don’t need to.”
“Metaphysical or whatever, it’s close enough to magic for me.” James peered at Razor’s crotch—ignoring Potluck’s exasperated groan in the process—and pointed a finger at it. “So… has it actually disappeared, or is it just invisible? Like, hypothetically, if someone were to grope you down there, would they actually feel something?”
“I can’t believe we’re talking about this…” Potluck murmured as he distracted himself with a cookie.
“I can’t believe that we’re only talking about this now,” James retorted. “We’ve known each other for almost an entire year!”
“Ponies don’t exactly go around looking for opportunities to talk about their private parts. Mostly.” Potluck shot a glare at Razor, then turned back to James with a frown. “Are humans any different?”
He raised a finger, paused for a moment, then lowered it. “You know, I’m not sure if I want to answer that…”
“All right then, back on topic!” said Razor. “To answer your question, yes, I do have a dong, and it’s exactly where it’s supposed to be all the time. I wouldn’t recommend groping anypony to find out, though—that’s usually how you get kicked in the teeth.”
“Duly noted. Don’t grope ponies.”
“And another thing: nearly everypony on Earth goes around naked at some point, and I know you’ve seen mares and stallions in public. Did you just think that we don’t have ding-dongs, hoo-hahs and bungholes?” Razor gave him a pointed look and jabbed a feather at himself like a thumb. “Did you think we didn’t have any of those up until today?”
James felt his cheeks and ears heating up. “Of course not! I just… I just thought that they were all really well hidden in sheaths or covered in thick fur or something. And I wasn’t about to stroll up to you guys and say, ‘Yo, how come you don’t have a dick or butthole?’”
“Can’t complain about that.” Potluck rolled his eyes and waggled a hoof at James. “Don’t ever apologise for being polite. Razor’s just a shameless peacock.”
“Speaking of shameless… The first time I used the men’s changing room, I freaked out because I thought every single guy in there was hitting on me.” Razor winced and chuckled ruefully as he stared off into the distance. “Would’ve saved me a tonne of embarrassment if we’d had this talk sooner, because I kept thinking for months that all human guys had a thing for me.”
James felt his eyes widening. “Oh, hold up a minute. Is that why you asked whether I was into you that time we went swimming at the lake?”
“Yeah. You saying no pretty much confirmed my suspicions and filled the blanks for me. Up until then, I’d heard people here mentioning a lack of modesty in some humans, so I assumed that the exact same concept must’ve existed on Earth.”
“Over here, the phrase refers to a moral failing rather than a medical condition.”
Razor huffed. “I know that, now.”
James felt his eyes drawn to his friend’s crotch once more. “So, your modesty deactivates when you’re, uh… horny?”
“No, it deactivates when I want it to,” Razor snapped. “Like so.”
James blinked, and he was suddenly privy to quite a view. “Oh, son of a—didn’t need to see that, but… congrats, I guess?”
He heard Potluck spraying himself with orange juice and erupting into a coughing fit, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the equipment on display. It pretty much guaranteed that he’d never be able to compare his friend’s underside to that of a plush toy ever again.
Razor smirked, and the next time James blinked, the parts in question had vanished. “Why, thank you. It’s not all that different from taking clothes off, now that I think about it. Usually, the only time we turn it off is when we see the doctor, or when we want to let somepony know that we’re interested in, uh…”
“Rumpy-pumpy?”
“Yeah!”
“Or if some featherbrain just wants to show off…” Potluck muttered as he finished magically wringing juice out of his chest fur. “Sweet Celestia, is this conversation real? Why am I even friends with you two?”
“Because how else are you going to have a full party for game night?” said Razor.
“That much is true. Curses…”
“Seriously, though. I didn’t need to see that.” James chuckled and shook his head. “But, okay, I’m glad we cleared up that little misunderstanding. If by ‘modesty’ you mean this special pony ability to keep your nether parts hidden, then yes, humans have no modesty. Or we all inherently have AMDS. Take your pick.”
“Wait.” Razor narrowed his eyes. “Special pony ability? Might’ve been a slip of the tongue, but I meant that everyone in Equestria has modesty. As in, all non-ponies do as well.”
James blinked. “Huh. Okay, cool. That makes sense.”
With that additional titbit of information filed away for future reference, he could finally get back to finishing his neglected sandwich. But whilst he chewed, some part of his brain couldn’t help cross-referencing it with past experiences, and it soon dredged up a little incident which had occurred some few months ago, involving a female griffon.
His chewing slowed.
She may or may not have deliberately lifted her tail just when he was walking right behind her, but he very distinctly remembered seeing her rear orifices. Multiple times.
James swallowed hard and swept his gaze around the cafeteria.
Humans as usual, with a smattering of ponies and one of those insectoid variants, and—there!
One griffon student. Male. Queueing up to order food at the counter with his back to them, idly swishing his tail like a cat, so James had a clear and unobstructed view of his backside.
A backside that was as smooth, clean and anatomically neutral as that of a plush toy.
Oh.
Razor was grinning. “I know that look. You just had your mind blown. Spill.”
“It’s probably nothing.”
“And you’re all red. That’s as far from nothing as equinely possible,” he sang.
James grimaced and wriggled his hand vaguely. “It was just a griffon girl that I saw when I was leaving the… mall, theatre? I forget. But she, uh, walked right in front of me and let me see her lady parts. Given what you told me today—I guess now I know why she got kind of annoyed when I kept trying to avoid eye contact with her.”
Razor simply nodded and wolf-whistled, whilst Potluck clapped both fore hooves on the table and leaned close with his ears perked. “Luna’s stars, when was this? Tell me you at least got her number or address!”
“Months ago—I didn’t ask and I wasn’t going to stalk a complete stranger!” James shook his head and leaned away from Potluck’s manic stare. “Also—the hell? Weren’t you all about being dignified and respectful just now? Why are you suddenly so up in my face about this kind of talk?”
Potluck thumped his hoof on the table hard enough to make their plates clatter a bit. “James, a girl just presented to you and you inadvertently blew her off. That’s totally different! Friends don’t let friends just walk away from gift horses—err, cat-birds. ”
James held up both hands. “Whoa now, I… am not sure I’m into girls with feathers and beaks. How would kissing even work with that set-up?”
“Find her again and find out!”
“Hang on, I—”
Razor put his elbow on the table and propped up his muzzle with a hoof, still smirking. “Any chance you remember what she looks like? Can’t be too many girls like her around here. I could zip around town for a bit and do some recon.”
“I dunno, she was blue and grey? Bit like a macaw.”
“Darn. Doesn’t sound like any griff I know…”
“I can’t—why am I even talking about this?” James snorted and cut off further protest with a wave of his hand. “Look, guys, I appreciate the encouragement, but really, I just want to focus on my studies until this crazy semester is over. Besides, what am I even going to do if I find that griffon again? Strip and return the favour?”
Potluck and Razor nodded with completely straight faces.
James stared at them. “Seriously? What’s wrong with you?”
A couple of seconds passed, and a shit-eating grin split Razor’s muzzle as he sniggered and thumped his hoof on the table.
Potluck, meanwhile, simply shook his head like a disappointed parent and sighed. “My dear human friend… despite having no modesty, you’re just way too modest.”
James rolled his eyes and downed the rest of his coffee. “Bloody ponies… you’re all crazy.”