Upon waking, the events of the previous evening made themselves known in the form of a massive headache. If I really did what I thought I did, then a little hangover would only be the start of the bad karma blowback, and I had no reason to think that I didn't do it.

Strangely, I got the distinct impression that I wasn't alone in my bed. This was unusual because I remembered coming back to my room by myself after leaving Rainbow Dash. Still, the sensation of fingers gently running up and down my back refused to go away. Also, the comforter had been pulled away to give those same fingers access. The sheet and blanket were still there, but now I couldn't use the comforter to block out the sunlight.

I soon found that I needn't have worried about the sunlight. When I turned my head to lay eyes on my visitor, I saw a great big yellow wing resolutely holding the line against the onslaught of oppressive morning brightness. As long as neither of us moved, my headache wouldn't get any worse.

"Good morning, Bill," greeted Fluttershy. She continued stroking my back while she spoke, and she was considerate enough to not move her wing. "I'm just here to wake you up and tell you breakfast is ready, so you can join us if you want to."

I just groaned in protest. Thanks to the hangover, I was in that sorry state where I didn't want to get up, but I knew I wouldn't fall back asleep either. There was no way I would be able to rest with the inside of my head trying to make itself bigger than the outside.

Fortunately, Fluttershy didn't force the issue and left me to decide for myself. Unfortunately, she took her wings with her, so I had a face full of sunshine to contend with on top of a splitting headache. Grudgingly, I set about washing up and making myself presentable for breakfast.

While shambling towards the dining room, I realized that Rainbow Dash had probably told all her friends by now what we did the previous night. From her story, they would have all formed opinions, and I would have to pay the consequences.

'Oh well. The walk of shame is a time-honored tradition back home.' I knew I'd lost it when even my internal monologue had turned against me.

Steeling myself for the inevitable, I entered the dining room. I could feel the complete absence of hatred and scorn directed my way as the ponies looked up to acknowledge my arrival and then returned to their own conversations. Even Rainbow Dash seemed indifferent as she happily chatted away with Rarity about something or another. It was a surreal feeling. The thought that I'd gotten away with it so cleanly was just too good to be true. No, I was banking on them having an unspeakably cruel fate in store for me. It was just a matter of what it was and when it would happen.

Something else caught my eye when I reached my seat. Front and center at my place setting was a covered dish.

"Is this my surprise?" I asked hesitantly, hoping against hope that my surprise hadn't changed due to the previous night's events.

"It is indeed," Celestia answered with a smile. "We ordered an express delivery of meat for the kitchen after you told us you needed it. That dish in particular is one of the Griffin ambassador's favorites."

Intrigued, I removed the lid from my plate, and its contents did not disappoint. "Then you can tell the Griffin ambassador that he has good taste," I replied.

"I'll be sure to tell her when I write back to her. She did recommend it personally."

Ignoring the gentle correction of my faux pas for the moment, I basked in the glory of my wonderful breakfast that had been prepared specially for me. I dutifully took a moment to appreciate the ham and cheese omelette, but I was far more interested in the magnificently marbled meat strips next to the omelette. If I had a camera phone, I'd have taken a picture and posted it on the internet.

I had a plate of bacon, and I was surrounded by a bounty of bouncy breasts. If I was dead, this might qualify as a screwed up version of Heaven. Alternatively (and far more likely, in my opinion), it could also be an ironic version of Hell. However, since I was reasonably sure that I wasn't dead, the jury was still out on that particular bit.

I may have been somewhat enthusiastic in devouring the first strip because when I looked up, I noticed most of the ponies staring at me.

"What?" I defiantly asked them. "If you could appreciate how good bacon is, you'd do the same thing."

Collectively, they just rolled their eyes and went back to their own meals. Except for the re-introduction of meat into my diet, breakfast was fairly uneventful.

Afterward, Rarity pulled me aside and asked when I would like to go get some proper clothes made. She made a case that it would be best to go earlier to beat the crowds in the market. I agreed because I didn't want to draw extra attention if I could avoid it.

Before meeting Rarity downstairs in the main entry hall, I stopped by my room to properly clean myself up for an outdoor excursion in public view. I stepped out on the balcony to test the outside conditions. The sun had made short work of the overnight cold, but there was still a noticable nip in the air. More importantly, the stone floor of the balcony had warmed up enough that I felt comfortable venturing outside in bare feet. I still had to be aware of small, sharp bits of debris on the ground, but at least my feet wouldn't freeze.

As she promised, my companion for the day was waiting by the main entrance to the palace by the time I got there.

"Shall we?" I greeted as I walked up.

"Oh, I suppose we shall," Rarity replied with a nonchalant flick of her hair.

A pair of guards opened the main doors for us to exit. Outside, the palace courtyard awaited. I've never been one to wax poetic about gardening or general landscaping, but I did pause for a moment to appreciate the efforts of whatever army of groundskeepers maintained the place. It was quite impressive, to say the least.

Back in the real world, however, something had given my guide pause. There were a few stairs between the palace entry and the grounds, but there were no rails for her to hold onto while negotiating those stairs.

After staring at the stairs for a few seconds, Rarity finally spoke up, "Bill, dear, would you care to help a lady out?" She even fluttered her eyelashes at me as if that would influence my decision.

"Sure," I answered. "If you could point her out, I'll be happy to offer my assistance." If she wanted to play the flirty coquette, then I figured could play silly games too.

I got a dirty look in return as I walked over to her and stuck an arm out for her to hold onto. I may not be a perfect gentleman, but I'm not a complete ass either.

Our progress into the city proper was hindered only by Rarity's limited walking pace. As a side bonus, every time she stumbled, the weight no longer being carried by her legs would transfer into my left arm. A few times she nearly pulled me down with her. On the other hand, she'd lean against me for support on the way back up, and I'd get a generous brush of side-boob for the trouble.

Unsurprisingly, we drew quite a bit of attention from the few ponies who were out and about at this hour, but none of them moved to impede us. I suspected it was more from lack of ability rather than lack of inclination. Even with a dedicated practice area, Twilight and her friends (excepting the Pink one) still had trouble as bipeds. If one of these ponies wanted to stop us, I was willing to bet they'd just as quickly faceplant into the street. Still, I knew I was being watched closely, and that my actions would be heavily scrutinized.

*stumble, fall, catch, rub*

No one approached or said anything to us, but what they were thinking in our direction was anyone's guess.

"Bill, are you listening?" Rarity's question jerked me out of my internal musing. Apparently she was talking, and I'd committed the unforgivable sin of being distracted by more interesting things.

"Huh, what?" I recovered expertly.

To her credit, the girl maintained her bearing. "I was just warning you about Fleur's habit of getting up close and personal with clients who go to her for custom work. I understand that there's a cultural difference, and I don't want you to misunderstand her intentions."

"And who's Fleur, might I ask?"

"She's the seamstress who will be making your new clothes, so you don't have to wear bedding every time you leave your room." Rarity sighed while rolling her eyes, probably annoyed at having to repeat herself. She added, "Don't worry. She specializes in stallion fashion, and I'll personally vouch for the quality of her work."

"I'm not here for high fashion. All I want is something simple, practical, and comfortable."

"Then just explain that to her. Part of the design process is letting you go over her sketches so you can give feedback on what you want."

"What, are you some kind of expert on making custom clothes?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," Rarity said haughtily. "I just specialize in mares' fashion instead. If you were a female human, I'd be making your clothes."

'If it was a woman instead of me, I imagine her take on togas wouldn't have gone over so well.'

I kept my own thoughts regarding that particular subject to myself.

It wasn't much longer before we finally reached our destination. I wasn't too eager to have to explain the rules for making human clothes, but necessity trumps laziness in my book. I needed real clothes, and in a world controlled by nudist aliens, they weren't going to make themselves.

Stepping inside, I took in the general layout of the shop. There were several of what I could only assume were the pony equivalent of mannequins scattered about. Some of them were empty, a few had what looked like suit coats on them, and others had what appeared to be no more than a shirt collar and a bow tie. Everything on display was much too formal for my taste. I may look good in a suit, but I've never been particularly comfortable wearing one. Hopefully, I could arrange for something less formal and more comfortable that I could wear every day.

Conspicuously absent was anything resembling pants, which meant that I would have to explain yet another concept to these aliens. Still, things could be worse. At least I would have real clothes again and not have to wear my bed everywhere I went.

"Ahh, you must be the alien we've all heard so much about." A voice I didn't recognize interrupted my thoughts. Rarity must have gone and fetched the owner while I was looking around.

When I turned to face the pony who would clothe me, I found it surprisingly easy to keep my gaze away from her anatomy. It certainly wasn't for lack of interest. She had a pleasantly slender body, and like all the other pony-women I'd encountered so far, her humanoid form was filled out in all the right places. No, it was easy to keep eye contact because she was the same height as me. Normally, such a trivial detail wouldn't even be worth mentioning. However, in a world where birthday suits are considered appropriate attire, it's easier to not have to look down when making eye contact in a conversation. When one has to look down while addressing someone, their line of sight tends to just keep going in the downward direction and focus on whatever appeals most.

"Hi, I'm Bill," I said, figuring a simple introduction would be the easiest way to not fuck this up.

The lady returned my greeting with a smile, "And I'm Fleur de Lis. My friend Rarity was just telling me you need some clothes."

'Straight down to business. I like her already.'

"That I do," I replied. "Your friend speaks very highly of you." Tossing in a little charm never hurt anybody. Who said I couldn't make a good first impression?

Before we could get distracted by small talk, I was ushered deeper into the shop for design consultation, measurements, and all that other tedious stuff that you have to do when getting custom clothes made from scratch. To complicate matters, Rarity insisted on sitting in on everything so she could, in her words, "learn the basics of human clothing." Given her specialty in ladies' clothing, I was skeptical of how much she could learn beyond what areas need to be covered up.

The next hour and a half was a sort of education about ponies' culture and general attitude towards clothes. Of my short list of requirements, simplicity turned out to be the biggest sticking point. I presided over a growing pile of rejected sketches with too many frills, embellishments, or strange color patterns.

"But nopony will notice you if you're dressed so plainly," Fleur complained. She'd finally given up and handed me a sketch that was nothing more than a simple shirt and pants. I think she was getting frustrated, but the result was exactly what I was looking for.

"That's the idea," I clarified. "We wear clothes all day, every day. It's just the way things are. That doesn't mean we always want to be noticed."

It took a few seconds for the 'does not compute' expressions to fade from the two fashion designers' faces. They finally came around, but in return, I agreed to let them use one of the other sketches to make a suit for me. As far as compromises go, it wasn't really a bad deal. The Crown was covering my expenses, and I still had some say in the design.

Next came the time for measurements, and that meant dropping my one layer of protection (and warmth) to let the two of them run a tape measure over every conceivable dimension of my body to make sure my new clothes would actually fit. Suddenly, I was reminded that I'd been in the company of two alien women who, if they had been just slightly less alien, I would have happily engaged in 'activities' with them. The results were predictable to say the least.

"What do you mean you can't?" Fleur asked incredulously. At first, she'd taken offense at the growing bulge that was no longer hidden. Thankfully, Rarity intervened before I got tossed out the door. She didn't exactly come to my defense, but she did convince her counterpart to give me a chance to explain myself. Once everybody calmed down a bit, the awkward questions started.

"Exactly what I said," I answered. "I can't just retract it into a sheath because I don't have one. That's not how human anatomy works. You can wait it out, but that could take a while, and I can't guarantee it won't come right back up once you start measuring."

Several expressions crossed the two ponies' faces as they each processed what I said. What they were thinking was anyone's guess.

I gave them a few moments before breaking the silence, "Is that gonna be a problem?"

There was more awkward silence before Fleur hesitantly spoke up. "I guess I can work around it, but don't you dare try anything funny while I'm working."

"Relax," I replied with a dead serious expression, "That's not what I'm here for. As long as we can all act like mature adults about it, there won't be any problems."

"In that case, I'll need you to remove that thing as well," she said, indicating my boxers. "I can't get proper measurements with you wearing those."

"Not happening," I countered. "Unless you plan on making more of these, anything you make for me is going on over it."

This led to more arguing, and that led to another compromise that wasn't really a compromise on my part. Fleur and Rarity took all the measurements they needed while my boxers were on. Then, I would take off my boxers (behind a screen) so the two seamstresses could try to duplicate them. Meanwhile, I would wrap back up in my blanket to maintain some semblance of decency.

While Fleur and Rarity did their thing, I stretched out on a conveniently located sofa. I had a blanket and pillow; I'd been woken up early for this; and I wasn't going anywhere any time soon. If that doesn't spell naptime, I don't know what does.

Some time later, I woke up at the insistence of Rarity, who then presented me with multiple copies of the boxers I'd let her take. I took them behind the screen for inspection. Fit, comfort, freedom of movement, and other attributes had to be carefully evaluated to ensure only the highest quality of coverage for my most important area.

Moments later, I delivered my verdict to a visibly nervous pony, "Feels good. I approve."

By the time I'd finished, Fleur had more stuff for me to try on. I gave her a questioning look when I saw it wasn't quite what I'd ordered, and she clarified that it was just a mockup of the final product, the tailoring equivalent of, "Measure twice. Cut once."

Another short nap later, I was the proud owner of a custom made pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. More sets of clothes would follow, but they would be delivered to my room at the palace. All I cared about was having something to wear other than bedding.

Unfortunately for me, my approval was not the final word in determining whether or not my new clothes were fit for public consumption. Fleur insisted on inspecting every little detail while I stood there trying to maintain my bearing. It was the least I could do considering she was doing me a favor on someone else's dime.

Fleur's inspection wasn't just about appearance. The craftsmanship was also under intense review. Not a single stitch or seam escaped scrutiny. I had to run all my limbs through their full range of motion until she was satisfied that there wouldn't be any excess stretching or pulling apart of the fabric. Occasionally, she would come in close to prod something or tug at something else for some purpose that only she knew. It was also clear that she wasn't exactly shy about physical contact. I kept Rarity's warning in mind, but one can only take so much with a naked woman poking around so close to their junk.

"Is anything uncomfortable?" she asked, still staring directly at my crotch.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked in return, hoping against hope that this wasn't going where I thought it was.

"What I mean is, 'Do you feel restricted at all?' Is anything too tight? Do you have enough room where you need it?"

"The fit is fine," I answered hastily.

"Even for your..."

"Yes," I interrupted, "even there." I may or may not have been turning red at that point. Nobody said anything regardless.

"Just checking," she defended. "I couldn't allow myself to send you off if you're not completely satisfied with my work."

"Even though you were about to toss me out the door this morning?"

"Oh, that was just a misunderstanding," Fleur waved her hand dismissively.

Realizing there was no polite way out of this, I just tried my best to look put upon as Rarity joined her fellow seamstress for my inspection. Eventually, they declared their approval.

My patience was rewarded with a hug from Fleur as she followed us outside, "And you simply must come back and let me see you in your other outfits once I finish them."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll come back," I replied noncommitally. Then Rarity shot me a glare indicating that it would not be an optional engagement.

"I look forward to it," Fleur whispered into my ear as she squeezed me tighter. She then kissed me on the cheek before letting go and heading back inside.

I really shouldn't have let myself get so flustered. Rarity did warn me that Fleur might get a little touchy-feely, but there's a difference between mildly affectionate and running a full-court press. That was assuming, though, that we had the same definitions of 'mildly affectionate'. For all I knew, what I thought was coming on too strong really wasn't a big deal to them. After all, they thought nothing of walking around naked all the time. Maybe I was just overthinking things again.

"Hello, Equestria to Bill," Rarity called, bringing me back to my immediate surroundings while waving a hand in front of my face. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. I'm fine," I said in a pathetic attempt to save face.

"You're blushing," she teased. "I told you how fond Fleur is of her models."

"I'm not a model," I shot back.

"You're wearing an original design custom made especially for you. If that doesn't make you her model, I don't know what does."

I grumbled in annoyance as we started the trip back to the palace. Much to my chagrin, the heat in my face didn't go away, and that kept the door open for more teasing from a certain white unicorn with purple hair.

"So, did you enjoy it?"

"I'm not answering that."

"That doesn't sound like a complaint."

I gave her the silent treatment in the hope that she would get bored and let me stew in peace. She tried a couple more times to get a rise out of me before giving up.

After a couple minutes of silence, the white unicorn spoke up again, "You don't have to take it so seriously. Nopony would hold it against you for admitting to your feelings."

"That's the problem," I replied. "I still haven't figured out what my feelings are."

Rarity finally let it go at that. "Alright, I won't pry, but if you need someone to talk to, I'll listen."

With the air cleared, the rest of our return trip was spent in amicable silence. We'd left the palace shortly after breakfast, and it was late afternoon by the time we got back. Both of us had skipped lunch, and while I couldn't speak for my counterpart, I was feeling rather hungry. My first planned stop after dropping the blanket and extra skivvies off in my room was the dining room. Failing that, I could always go hunting for the kitchen and pilfer some food straight from the source.

Unfortunately, I didn't get that far. Twilight and Celestia were waiting in my room with serious expressions on their faces.

'Crap'

As I approached the ring of chairs and couches, Twilight spoke first. "Bill, we need to talk."

'Double crap. She must mean business if she's using my preferred name.'

"Can this wait? I haven't eaten since breakfast," I said irritably.

My attention was briefly directed to a small assortment of snacks on the table. Clearly, escape would not be bought with such cheap excuses. I took a seat and mentally braced myself for the worst.

"Now," she continued, "I need to talk to you about what happened last night."

"What about it?" I asked, figuring it would be best to not go on the defensive until I was accused of something.

Twilight just fixed me with a hard look. "This isn't the time for playing games. You know what I'm talking about."

"But what do you have to say about it? You need to be more specific. Is this gonna be a discussion between civilized adults, or do I need to get a lawyer?"

That earned me an eye twitch, but little miss purple kept her cool for the most part. Only a little bit of frustration made it into her voice. "Bill, this is about getting you home, so I would appreciate it if you were a little more cooperative."

"Oh," I replied. "Why didn't you say that sooner?"

Ignoring my question, Twilight went on. "Something happened last night that released more of your stored magic."

"Which, given what we already know, shouldn't come as a big surprise," I pointed out. "So what's your point?"

"My point is that what you did with Rainbow Dash was far more effective than when the nurse took your sample." She paused for a moment. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but how often can you do something like that?"

It was my turn to pause while considering my next words. "If I pushed it, once every couple hours. But there's no way I could keep that up for more than a day or two."

"What about a sustainable rate?"

This line of questioning was really starting to creep me out, but I humored her once more. "Probably three times a day. Why do you need to know this?"

"I want to give you some perspective on how much magic is stuck inside you. The medical staff have been keeping track by measuring the amount while you're asleep." She started writing something down on a sheet of paper. "Let's say you ejaculate three times a day, every day. With the spell the nurse used, it would take six months to extract all the magic from your body."

"That's not acceptable," I said simply, although I couldn't stop myself from wincing a bit. Not only did I not want to spend that much time here, the pain from that unholy spell would make the process pure torture.

"Don't worry, we wouldn't even think of putting you through that again, because if you do what you did last night, you'd be done in less than three months."

I gave her my best deadpan look. "Really? The fact that it's no longer painful suddenly makes it perfectly acceptable?"

"I'm saying that it opens up a new possibility for tests. If we can get better results by varying the method of extraction, it's worth investigating."

Apparently, I wasn't getting through, so I raised my voice a little. "Do I have to hit you with something to get you to stop being clinical for five seconds and actually think about what you're suggesting?"

At the very least, I got her attention, but she either couldn't come up with a response, or the message was finally sinking in.

Regardless, I pressed on, "Think about it from my perspective. I woke up on an alien planet with a whole bunch of magic stuffed inside of me, and the only way we know of to get it out is by jamming my dick into anything with legs? Lucky for me, the locals have all been transformed in such a way that not only do they have human features, but those features have been specifically enhanced to appeal to my exact tastes. Top it all of with a local culture doesn't have any kind of nudity taboo, and I have to constantly remind myself that it isn't what it looks like."

I had to pause for a few seconds to catch my breath. I had a good rant going, and I wasn't about to let it drop.

"I know more than a few guys back home who would ask, 'Why fight it?' when everything seems stacked so heavily in my favor. My answer to that is that somebody has to, and I don't think you're up to the task. Do you even know why I was so adamant that you keep it a secret when you told me my sperm would also release your precious magic?"

Twilight's stunned silence was all the answer I needed.

"Because if word got out, ponies would be lining up out the door to have a go at me. I'd never get a moment's rest. It doesn't matter what your thoughts are about it. You don't have to do anything if you don't want to because there are plenty of others who won't care. They just want their bodies back, and they'll do whatever it takes to get just that. I'm the one who doesn't have a choice in the matter. I have to do it if I ever want to see my home again, and I'm not even sure if I'm okay with the idea yet."

Throughout the course of my ranting, I'd gone from righteous anger to defeated resignation. By the end of it, I was just staring at the table with my arms resting on my knees and both hands supporting my forehead.

There was a full minute of silence before Twilight spoke up in a remorseful, perhaps even sympathetic, tone. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I've been so focused on finding a way to fix things that I forgot to consider how you might feel about it."

Celestia, who had been silent the whole time, chose this moment to interject. "Take that lesson to heart, Twilight. Just because you're a Princess doesn't mean you have to have all the answers. You are still my student, and you still have much to learn."

I raised my head up to observe the two Princesses talking to each other. I felt like an extra body in the room while the two of them shared a moment together. The way Celestia looked at Twilight reminded me of a mother comforting a scolded child.

"If you'd like, you can write me a friendship report about it," she teased her junior counterpart. For some reason, that seemed to cheer up the junior Princess.

Celestia then turned her attention to me. "If you don't mind, Bill, may I offer a suggestion?"