The frying pan made a satisfying sizzling sound as Pinkie flipped her final pancake. Behind her at one booth table sat a stack of eleven more, all filled with berries of every available denomination, but an even dozen had felt like a better number than ten or nine or anything else she’d considered stopping at. If you were going to go all out, and she was, a dozen pancakes was clearly the way to go.

Pinkie yawned. Maybe Sunset Shimmer had a point about that whole drinking coffee thing. But she still wasn’t really allowed to touch the stuff, so the pancakes would have to do in their stead. Sure, she hadn’t had any trouble with getting to sleep last night, but she had needed to reach her bed in the first place, and it’d been a really late night what with the half-time show and the afterparty both! She could have slept for four or five more hours, but figured that she really should make at least a show of having Sugarcube Corner open in case anybody wanted brunch or whatever. If they did… well, she had food to offer, anyhow! Maybe not clothes, but food was more important.

The twelfth pancake was done, and Pinkie carried the pan over to her table and deposited its contents on top of the eleven that had come before. Done! Now she was ready to eat. Well, okay, so she’d been munching down graham crackers and french toast the whole time she’d been cooking, since she didn’t want to starve to death right there on the spot and all that food was making it feel really really plausible, but now she was ready to consume her entire proper meal. To the left of the pancakes was a small mountain of scrambled eggs, garnished with herbs and pepper, as well as a sizable carafe of orange juice. On the right were a few slices of french toast left over from her earlier snacking, plus a mess of stuff that was supposed to be tofu scramble but she’d never made tofu scramble before so she didn’t really know what she’d ended up creating. On the bright side, it didn’t appear to be alive!

Pinkie stretched her arms, snapped her neck back and forth a couple times, licked her lips, and sat down. It was time to feast! She’d made off with basically the diner’s entire supply of maple syrup when she’d checked the pantry that morning, and she set about pouring it over basically everything in sight barring the orange juice. She even spared a few drops for her tits, and purred as they were absorbed into her, but she had other stuff to worry about besides random sex play. Namely food, glorious food.

The first bite of scrambled eggs made it into her mouth, still warm, and she moaned happily. The problem with going to school was that it didn’t allow for nearly enough mornings like this one, just sitting around lazily with nothing to study but absolutely astonishing quantities of breakfast. She shoved some more eggs in her mouth, followed quickly by a slice of delicious pancake, nearly drowned in syrup but still with a recognizably delectable berry flavor. Peace! Just her, a fork, and food as far as the mouth could water.

The bell rang, and the front door opened.

Pinkie sighed, got back up, and squeed and ran over to hug her new customer. “Twilight! Hi hi hi how are you?”

Twilight Sparkle hugged her back, wings wagging cheerfully behind her. She was wearing her same outfit as ever, blue shirt and purple skirt and all the rest, and seemed a little tired but still happy. Pinkie took a long, luxurious sniff of her hair and breathed in a heady mixture of lavender soap and unscented conditioner; either Twilight hadn’t been in the audience when she’d doused it with strawberry milk, or she was a great washer. Either felt plausible.

“Hi Pinkie!” Twilight gave her a final squeeze before letting go and looking around the diner. “I’m doing fine. Sunset was trying to make us breakfast, but everything caught on fire, so I’d thought I’d come here instead and… that is a truly ludicrous amount of food you have on that table.”

Pinkie giggled. “I was thinking the same thing! I mean, I was using different adjectives, but the same sort of idea. Cooking is kind of like math… it’s the idea that counts! And yep yep, that’s a preposterously plentiful breakfast there.”

One corner of Twilight’s mouth turned upwards, quickly followed by the other. “Indescribably excessively assembled.”

Pinkie nodded gravely. “Irreversibly inflated instantiation?”

“Spectacularly sized servings.”

“Patently plethoral portions.”

“I don’t think plethoral is… oh, never mind.” Twilight grinned and turned back to Pinkie. “Can I have some? Huh, you appear to be naked. Again.”

“Oh, now you notice!” Pinkie thrust her chest in the general direction of Twilight’s face, blowing air between her lips sarcastically. “I’d been thinking these boobs were the star of the show by now, but no, I come and hug you absolutely starkers and the first thing you notice is that I’m going to eat a lot for breakfast. I dunno, Twilight, one or the other of us is clearly a lost cause.”

Twilight’s gaze lingered on Pinkie’s tits long enough to be properly flattering, then she headed over toward the food. “Pinkie Pie, if it’ll help you with your self-esteem, I’m happy to be the lost cause for today. But you’ve been naked or half-dressed a lot recently, you know, and besides I’m still used to everyone being naked all the time back in Equestria…”

“That makes sense!” Pinkie followed after her, boobies bouncing merrily as she skipped along. “Oh yeah, help yourself, I dunno if I can really eat every last bite of this all by myself but it’d take me a really long time if I did, so if you see anything you like, go for it!”

That last bit was not interpreted as a seduction attempt, or if it was, Twilight was too hungry to respond to it properly. Fortunately Pinkie had really just thrown it in as a matter of habit, since she was certainly too hungry to seduce anyone properly. She’d had an awful lot of sex last night, plus a couple of brutally emotional moments along the way, and the result had been that’d she’d woken up starving to say nothing of bone-dry. All that milk and energy needed replenishing, and she was helpfully situated as being totally in charge of a diner on weekends, so she’d immediately set about preparing breakfast to get herself replenished. She supposed she might have gone a little too far in the process, but at least Twilight had arrived to help her finish the meal if need be.

Pinkie hadn’t set out a second plate or fork or anything, but Twilight had her magic unicorn horn—or was it an alicorn horn? Pinkie wasn’t too clear on the terminology—to help her out, so Pinkie got to watch bits of pancake and toast and the rest getting surrounded by purple glowy magic and levitated into Twilight’s mouth. Breakfast and a show! They’d been eating for several minutes, Twilight calmly and Pinkie in more of a feral manner, before either spoke again.

“Oh,” said Twilight eventually, “I’m sorry! I’m not being a good friend. One time my friend Rainbow Dash had the pony pox, and she felt really bad about being covered in spots and unable to practice her stunts or go in for her job or anything else from her usual routine. So all the rest of us decided to go visit her and infect ourselves with the pony pox too, so she wouldn’t feel so alone.”

Pinkie blinked and quickly swallowed her mouthful of pancake. “That sounds awfully unpleasant!”

“In retrospect, yes, we’ve had better ideas.” Twilight scratched herself, probably reflexively. “But it was definitely a sign of our strong friendship!” She reached down and pulled off her shirt, leaving her cute, ever-so-slightly-mismatched boobies to hang free, this time without even a frumpy bra to keep them covered. Twilight smiled as Pinkie stared lustily at her shiny dark nipples. “There! Now you don’t have to feel bad about being naked.”

“Oh, uh, thanks!” Pinkie shook her head in wonder. Pony princesses would never cease to amaze her. “You’re sweet!”

“Not really; I’m just well-studied in the magic of friendship. Why are you naked, anyhow? I know Prin—uh, Vice Principal Luna gave you those special considerations at school, but we’re not at school now, and last time I was here you were telling me about your taboo system.”

Pinkie smiled to herself and ate another helping of scrambled eggs to cover it. She couldn’t have asked for a sharper contrast with the orgy last night if she’d tried. Twilight was just so matter-of-fact about everything. She had a definite sweet, romantic core, which Pinkie enjoyed bringing out of her, but besides that she was the perfect detached scientist, friendly and even-tempered and unprejudiced and topless. Pinkie supposed that last bit probably wasn’t part of any traditional ranking of scientists, but screw it, if she had to pick between Twilight Sparkle being topless or her not being topless, she was going to go with the first one.

“Oh, you know,” she said after making sure to swallow, “various reasons. Mostly it’s just that Rarity has all my clothes right now, or at least all of them that still fit! I’m going to go visit her today and see if she’s still mad at me or what. Do you think it’s possible to be mad at someone if you nurse from her tits for a long time and play with her pussy before that?”

Twilight blushed, and Pinkie noticed her shifting her position just a little, like maybe she was spreading her legs a bit. Heheh! “Uhhh,” she said. “Once again, Pinkie, I just want to reemphasize my non-expert status, but, uh, if you did that to me, anger wouldn’t be at the top of my list of suspected feelings.”

Pinkie giggled. “Maybe lust?”

“Right, lust seems more plausible.”

“Or love?”

“Maybe!” Twilight took a drink of orange juice, careful not to let the carafe touch her lips as she drank. She smiled. “You actually strike me as surprisingly romantic, considering your pony counterpart and your, uh, current circumstances.”

“Thanks!” Pinkie beamed at her from behind a thick slice of french toast. “I try! So yeah, Rarity’s got most of my clothes and hopefully she’ll give them back. But besides that, I was fucking Fluttershy last night in front of basically the entire school, so I’ve kinda given up worrying about who sees me naked for the time being. I dunno if you maybe want to put your shirt back on, since this place is still open, and anyone could come in at any time…”

Twilight played idly with her boobs, paying more attention to her breakfast than her chest. “No, I’m fine. Pony upbringing, remember? But thanks for asking.”

“No problem! You’re way too cute for me to want you to wear a shirt if you don’t think you need one, anyhoo.” She grinned at Twilight’s blush returning in full force. Innuendo was out the window, but even pony princesses responded to blunt commentary about their attractiveness. Good to know. “So were you at our show last night? It was, uh, kind of a strange affair.”

“No, we missed it. Flash…” Twilight stopped and giggled, eyes squeezed shut in her mirth. Once again her little button nose called out for licking, but Pinkie had food to worry about and she was too far away anyway. “You know, in Equestria there’s a pony named Flash Sentry who’s a soldier. This Flash is only a guitar player, and, teehee, he gets a little intimidated by sports teams. I think he’s afraid he doesn’t seem masculine enough in comparison.”

Pinkie laughed. “Really?! Even though they’re like half girls?”

“Right, that’s what I said! And he had an extensive discussion of the masculinity of guitars, plus something about how this world’s Rainbow Dash is very pretty and that somehow makes her masculine? I… don’t think that scientific arguments are really his strong suit.” She sighed quietly. “But he’s so nice! There’s a new moving picture story about romance opening on Thursday that we’re going to, and I think I’ll try to get him to have sex with me then.”

Pinkie raised an eyebrow. “You two haven’t done the nasty yet?”

“No, not yet!” Twilight scowled, and a bit of pancake held in her magic glow very briefly caught fire before she noticed and put it back out. “I’ve got a good feeling about Thursday, but so far we’ve been taking it more slowly. And that’s fine! I can respect that! But I had sex with you almost immediately after arriving here, and it was my first time ever, and it went really well, and so I’ve been uncomfortably horny ever since with nothing to do about it.” Pinkie raised a finger to interrupt, but she waved it off. “No, I know what masturbation is! I’ve perused several excellent study guides, but it’s just not the same.” She sighed and lowered her chin to the table. “I wish I could just have sex with you again. That would be a lot of fun and would make everything simpler.”

Pinkie rested her palm nervously against her pussy, which was suddenly a lot wetter than it’d been a moment ago. “You, uh, don’t need to hold back on my account!” she said, feigning casualness. “I’m pretty darn sure Fluttershy wouldn’t mind. Eheheh, if anything, she’d want to join in.”

“No, it’s not that.” Twilight laid her whole head on the table and stared moodily into the orange juice, which had a stubbornly and unhelpfully cheerful color to it. “Flash is really a very nice guy, you know? And Equestria loves royal weddings, and for that matter I’m sure everypony would be very enthusiastic about a cross-universal wedding, so I’m under some pressure to do this right.” She scowled again. “Not that it helps when your sister-in-law is the one and only goddess of love, might I add! But if there’s a possibility that Flash could be something serious… well, I owe it to Equestria to put being serious ahead of having fun.”

Pinkie Pie shuddered. “That sounds awful! I mean, I’ve been feeling serious from time to time recently, but whenever I do, I just drown it in sex until it goes away!”

“Heh.” A small chunk of egg floated into Twilight’s mouth, and she chewed at it a few times before rising back up and smiling again. “Well, on Thursday that’s exactly the plan! Oh, I’ve got an idea to make both of us happy at once. Invite all the girls together that night and we can hold a Twilight Sparkle Had Sex Again celebration, all right?”

“One Twilight Got Laid party, coming right up! Say, you do know how to screw boys, right? There are a couple extra niggling details to consider, you see, and—“

“Yes, I’m fully aware, thank you.” Twilight’s expression hovered somewhere between pride and embarrassment, but quickly plummeted into the latter as she continued talking. “Sunset already gave me a box of condoms in Flash’s size, and no, I don’t care to engage in any conversation about why she has those.”

Pinkie opened her mouth in shock, then snapped it shut with both hands before Twilight could think she was about to say something. If Twilight didn’t want to talk about Sunset boinking Flash last year, then by golly, Pinkie wasn’t going to talk about it either! Flash and Sunset had been off the official couples chart for eons, so they were both totally free to do as much boinking with as many other people as they liked, without any nosy parkers going about drudging up the past.

“How is Sunset, anyhoo?” she asked instead. “I think last time I talked to her, her mood was about as pointy as her nipples.”

“She’s, uh, well.” Twilight poked absent-mindedly at some maple syrup, then licked it off her finger before answering. “She’s not too happy with you at the moment, though.”

“Me?!” Pinkie’s eyes bulged. “Is it open season for being peeved with Pinkie Pie lately? What’d I do to cripple her carousel, pee in her porridge, gamble away her gardenias?”

“Oh, it’s nothing you did.” Twilight looked suddenly amused. “Well, except Fluttershy, I guess. You have to remember that Sunset’s whole life has revolved around winning. I think she understands why it was right for her to lose for Princess of the Fall Formal last semester, but now she’s got her eye set on being Princess of the Spring Fling one last time. Unfortunately, she doesn’t think much of her current chances. She’s still not a very nice person, honestly, and some of her certain other advantages are, uh, less effective than they used to be.”

Pinkie Pie raised both eyebrows as far as they would go, and Twilight slowly continued. “Don’t tell her I passed this on to you, but apparently somewhere in Canterlot High there are a small handful of photographs of Sunset Shimmer sunbathing topless. They don’t officially exist, and she doesn’t officially know about them—even though she specifically had Snips and Snails take them for this very purpose—but they get sold and traded among the student body as time goes on, and she keeps track of their market value to get a sense of how much people desire her.” Twilight smiled wanly. “And, uh, with you and Fluttershy on nearly full display all day long, and both of you with much larger breasts than hers, her market value doesn’t appear to be especially high at the moment.”

Pinkie thought about this. She did remember one of the techie kids offering her a photo like that once upon a time, but she hadn’t had the money for it. So then she’d offered to trade it for a photo of herself topless, to make the black market more interesting and all that, but the techie said no, because her boobs had been too small for that kind of thing back then. Then she’d felt bad about herself for a few days until she’d gotten Photo Finish to give her a pity screw and everything had gone back to chipper and sunshiney again. Anyway, if those photos were still around, that was pretty impressive!

“That sucks,” said Pinkie thoughtfully. “Is there anything I can do? I mean, besides not having any sex at all between now and the Spring Fling, and I guess covering Fluttershy in a tarp?”

Twilight snickered. “Oh, I don’t want to know what Rarity would think if Fluttershy was wearing a tarp. But, um. I don’t know? I’ll tell her you offered, at least.”

“Thanks!” Pinkie beamed. “Tell her not to worry, Twilight. Miracles are real, you know! If I can meet Santa Claus, then I’m sure Sunset Shimmer can be Princess of the Spring Fling again. Did I tell you about that, by the way?” Twilight shook her head around a mouthful of blueberry pancake, and Pinkie took a big breath.

“So, like,” she continued, “it was maybe ten years ago. I was raiding the pantry around midnight, and I turned around and there was Santa Claus eating our cookies! He was totally impressed that I’d found him and he promised to give me whatever I wanted, but you know what? I don’t even remember what I asked for anymore!” She laughed. “Probably some silly little girl thing, because pretty young and all that. I wonder if I ever got it?”

“Personally, I’ve mostly given up disbelieving old legends,” said Twilight. “Assuming that’s what Santa Claus is, because I’m missing all sorts of cultural context here. After that day I personally visited the gates of hell, it’s just felt easier to assume that everything is real.” She leaned back in her chair, lavender boobies rising subtly as she went, and frowned slightly. “Much the same could be said for your breasts… the scholarly consensus seems to be that you don’t exist. Milkmaids appear to be extremely rare and insufficiently documented. I’m not even sure how to convey how low the odds were your school nurse knew what your situation was, let alone is one herself.”

Pinkie shrugged. “I’m okay with that! Maybe the odds used to be low, but they’re totally a hundred and ten percent or something now, right? Because it’s already happened. Milk under the bridge and all that.”

“That’s… one way to look at it, I suppose.” One of Twilight’s eyebrows was twitching alarmingly, and Pinkie snuck a long swig of juice to calm her nerves. Twilight sighed and squeezed her boobs some more, paying them so little attention Pinkie wondered if she was even noticing herself doing it. Who said getting used to new bodies was difficult? Pinkie imitated her for a couple seconds in the name of friendship, squeezing out a few drops of pink milk to dilute her orange juice.

Twilight returned her attention to eating, and Pinkie’s attention wandered to Twilight, or more specifically the horn poking out of the top of her head. What was up with that thing? Was it just part of her skull, only poking out through her forehead? Maybe it was like a really long fingernail and she had to clip it every week? Really it looked more like a long swirly sea shell than anything else, with ridges spiraling up to the very tippy top. Pinkie wondered idly whether the top was smooth, or if there was a little hole in the middle where all the magic came out, like… like a dick!

The more Pinkie thought about it, the more the comparison made sense. When she’d finished pleasuring Twilight a week ago, after all, lots of little laser beams had shot out of her horn, just like semen. Sure, semen was supposed to be white, but then so was milk and Pinkie disproved that rule, so why couldn’t Twilight’s sex horn make rainbow light? Although then that put kind of a different spin on what they’d done to Sunset Shimmer, so, uh, eww.

Oh, but what would it feel like? Pinkie’s eyes rolled back in their sockets for a moment as she recalled the sensation of Green Cycle buried deep inside her, filling her with delectable, pulsating cock. How would a horn compare to that? It was a lot pointier, for a start, so she guessed it would feel less filling at the tip. Unless maybe if Twilight was generating some kind of magic forcefield around the tip, to make it feel bigger, kind of like her balloons except made of magic instead. Kind of like a magic condom, except presumably there was no way of getting knocked up by colorful beams of light.

Would it even be safe? Pinkie noticed that one of her hands had found its way to her pussy, and let it do its work as she continued to contemplate. Twilight said she was a very powerful unicorn or alicorn or whatever, but that didn’t mean her concentration was perfect, or she wouldn’t have let Pinkie fall after eating her out. What if she had her horn up Pinkie’s pussy, and something distracted her or made her angry or whatever, and some magic came out by mistake? That sounded like an absolutely horrible body part to suddenly be on fire…

“Pinkie? Hello?” Twilight waved a tasty hand in front of her face. “The last time someone named Pinkie Pie had that expression, we were cleaning spiders out of the well for weeks afterwards.”

Pinkie chortled briefly at the thought. “Huh? No, I’m fine! I was just thinking about having sex with your horn.”

Twilight’s face blanched, turned thoughtful, blushed, blanched again, and went through several more variations on that same basic theme. She quickly rose to her feet and reached around in her purse, grabbing a handful of coins which she then dropped on the table. “There,” she said. “For breakfast. It was great, but I really have to get going and, uh, study, for, uh, school…”

“Aww!” Pinkie scooted away from the table in preparation to give Twilight a goodbye hug. “You don’t have to pay me all that! It was fun hanging out with you and stuff!”

“No, I really do.” Twilight glanced over at the remaining pancake. “This is a business—your business! And I’m a princess, so it’s not like I can’t afford to be a paying customer. Even if the Paneer Anda was a little different than I’m used to.”

“The… oh, you mean the tofu scramble?”

“Uh, if that’s what it was, yes.”

Pinkie sighed. “Yeah, that one could have gone better. Sorry.” She frowned suddenly as a thought occurred to her, and pranced over to Twilight to place her hands on the other girl’s shoulders. “Twilight, I’m not making you uncomfortable, am I? I really didn’t mean to drive you away by fantasizing about your horn, and besides, I don’t think it would even work properly…”

Twilight grimaced. “My horn works very well, thank you! But, uh… it’s really not your fault, Pinkie. Don’t worry about it. You’re just being you, and I just have to go do some studying.”

“Ooooooh!” Pinkie gave Twilight an exaggerated wink, throwing in a few light, well-intentioned punches to her sides for good measure. “Studying, I get it! Auntie Pinkie gave you some of those weird feelings in your new body again, and you need to go ‘study’ that little hole under your skirt, hmmmmm?”

“Pinkie Pie! I, that’s not…” Twilight’s shoulders slumped and she looked sadly at the floor. “Well, okay, yes, that’s exactly what I meant. But I liked being able to pretend I was really going to do something properly academic.”

Pinkie Pie barked a laugh and backed up a few feet, hands at her hips and boobs thrust forward for maximum visibility. “You’re going to go masturbate to me! Admit it, Twilight, it’s an awesome compliment! You’re going to go hole up in a bathroom somewhere and think about me, all big and naked, just like this, doing… hmm, doing what?” She eyed Twilight from behind half-closed eyelids. “What’s your thing, Twilight? You going to imagine me dropping a textbook and bending over to pick it up, just… like… this?” She moved to illustrate, and Twilight went scarlet.

“I am leaving now,” said Twilight, clearly trying her best to produce a monotone but failing miserably. “It was very nice to, uh, see you, and so, goodbye…”

“No no, wait wait wait wait wait!” Pinkie sprang up again and hopped back over to the table, grinning hugely. “I know what you want! You want to see me take this maple syrup here and pour it all over my nude body, don’t you? All oozy and sticky and delicious, every inch of me, and of course my big milky nipples would be poking out from the syrupy goodness, and you’d do the right thing and lean in and start cleaning me up with your tongue…”

Twilight vanished abruptly in a flash of pink light, and Pinkie leaned back in the booth, not trusting herself to open her mouth long enough to eat in case she started laughing uncontrollably instead. Ponies! Princesses! Twilight Sparkle! Whichever variably general category she could pin things on, that girl was a delight. Who else could she count on to come visit her—even if she had been looking for breakfast—and get topless and then leave after promising to masturbate to her? And before that promise, she’d pretended like she was going to go study something instead, and both options were just so adorably, perfectly Twilight.

But then, who knew just how many people were masturbating to Pinkie Pie now? It couldn’t be only Fluttershy anymore, not after what Twilight was saying about Sunset having trouble finding buyers for her photos. Starshine, probably, but really any student at all could be trespassing in their own private property even at that very moment, even students she’d never so much as been introduced to. It was a peculiar thought, one which Pinkie wasn’t totally sure how she felt about.

Then the room flashed bright pink again, and Twilight reappeared, looking mortified. “I forgot my shirt,” she said, and Pinkie descended into howls of laughter that continued on for several minutes after Twilight, shirt collected, had once more disappeared.

Ohhhhhhhh, but she’d needed that. Whatever mysterious force of nature—which was to say, Twilight Sparkle—had rapidly increased the sexual content in her life seemed to also have decreased the amount of wacky humor. Painfully tight pompoms were only so much of a substitute for joy buzzers, and however exciting that orgy had been, it still wasn’t the same as a real proper party. Fortunately she had not one but two coming up in just a few days! Maybe she could sneak in a Finally Going To Have Parties Again party sometime before that? Even if Flower Child’s party was, eh, a little outside of her usual subject matter… at least she wasn’t the one who had to be passing out invitations for that.

Pinkie ate the last pancake, in the name of being thorough, but she had to admit she wasn’t really hungry anymore. Which sounded depressing, when she put it that way, but really just meant that she’d already eaten a lot and was back in the prime of health and all that. Pinkie Pie, ready for action! Off to see Rarity and get some proper clothes and talk about nice, clean, silly things like parties and hairstyles and Rarity’s horn… oh poop.

So horns and wings were both pony parts, right? They didn’t quite belong on a normal person’s anatomy? Well, Fluttershy and Twilight were both super-sensitive on their back where the wings came out, so shouldn’t horns be the same way? What would happen if she took Rarity’s head and licked her horn all around its base, one big magic licky circle…?

Some milk squirted out of Pinkie’s tits, and she glared at them. Well, if they were going to be like that, she had really better hurry over to Rarity’s and get some kind of shirt to put on them, to say nothing of getting her magic panties back and all the rest. It looked like it was going to be a slow business day, anyhow, if nobody had come by the whole time Twilight had been visiting. Pinkie made a clucking noise with her tongue and busied about the Corner, turning off lights and locking doors.

Fortunately the Cakes made a practice of keeping a spare key under a potted fern to one side of the diner, so she didn’t need to worry about finding a way to not get locked out while she didn’t have any pockets. Sure, she could probably stash a key in her hair somewhere, but potted ferns felt slightly more reliable and much less likely to lose all their mass when she got miserable. She locked the front door and returned the key to its place under the pot, suddenly conscious of her big bare bottom as she leaned over, with her pussy lips no doubt sticking out just enough to be visible from behind.

“I was fucking Fluttershy last night in front of basically the entire school,” she repeated weakly to herself, “so I’ve kinda given up worrying about who sees me naked for the time being. Heheh, yeeeeeeah, that one sure took! Pull the other one, Pinkie Pie!”

Still, she had an errand to run. Pinkie straightened her back, thumped her chest, and strode forwards. Girls went shopping all the time, after all, nothing wrong with that. She was just one more girl going shopping for new clothes. It was just that she happened to be utterly, completely, unconcealably naked. And not even subtly naked, because her tits were enormous and milk was leaking down their fronts, and her pussy was probably still a bit enflamed too. The longer she walked, the more people she passed, and every single one of them stared at her.

An elderly blue-skinned man stared at her for several long seconds before his shoulders slumped and he turned away. A dark red teenage boy on a skateboard stared at her and ended up crashing into a mailbox. Two young women stared at her, one angrily and the other lustily, until the second one caught the first one’s eye and quickly managed to look angry too. And so on and so forth. It felt like the entire town was out for a walk, and every single person there was intent on taking in every inch of her naked body. Fluttershy would have been in heaven and would probably have had three separate orgasms already. Pinkie Pie… wasn’t and hadn’t. Well, maybe one small one, but only by accident.

Eyes. Eyes everywhere. Her pussy creamed oozily forth while her hair slumped on top of her head, even her own body unable to make up its mind how it felt about this attention. Everybody—everybody!—was looking at her, faces set in lecherous grins or angry glares with seemingly no room in-between for admiration or neutrality or friendship. Pinkie Pie was nothing more than a pair of tits and a big butt and whatever else any one of them was feeling especially attracted to.

Pinkie stumbled against a crack in the sidewalk and resumed her walk, tears welling in her eyes presumably from the pain. Her nipples were draining freely now, and she fondled her tits to ease their pressure, knowing that doing that was only contributing to everyone’s impressions of her. It wasn’t like this at school! Sure, after her tits had gotten too big she’d only been walking around topless, not fully nude, but that wasn’t so big a difference. And even there she’d had to take all her clothes off whenever she was screwing Fluttershy, which was pretty often. So what was wrong?

A silver-skinned man with brilliant golden hair smiled at her filthily and made a grab for her tits, and Pinkie darted to the side and ran, bouncing painfully until she was at least a block away and felt sure she wasn’t being followed. Strangers! That was it. All these people, staring at her like a slab of meat with spectacular tits, were total strangers. She didn’t know them, and they didn’t know her, except that they knew she was naked and had big boobs. And there was really only one kind of reaction to base off of that.

Whore.

Show-off.

Slut.

Pinkie’s eyes brimmed with tears again, and she snuck into a small alleyway between two houses, just out of the way enough to shield her from some of the staring but still open enough that she could escape if, um, she really had to. She ran her fingers through her hair, worried at how flat it was coming to feel. It was different at Canterlot High, really it was. The students there had known her for years, or at least months for the freshlings, but still. Maybe she didn’t know most of them personally, but she was a public figure, especially when Sunset had taken her friends away and throwing parties was all she’d been able to do. At school Pinkie Pie was a fountain of fun and unpredictability, and sure, lately she’d grown quite the pair of melons and she’d been fucking people a lot, but that was just one side of her. Maybe some of the kids at school didn’t approve of that side, but they still knew who she really was! She was a party girl who was experimenting with her sexuality, not just a naked slut.

Doleful music began to play in the background, full of drums and trombones and she could never remember the difference between flutes and oboes, and Pinkie sunk down against one wall into a sitting position. Her pussy spread open with her legs, but it wasn’t like keeping her legs together would have made any real difference at that point. The music got louder and she sniffled. None of this was her fault! If you got the magic power to have your tits grow bigger when you had sex, what were you supposed to do with that? Not have any sex? Although admittedly she had the nagging feeling they hadn’t grown at all the night before, despite how much sex she’d been having almost constantly…

Maybe it was Twilight Sparkle’s fault, but she didn’t like that conclusion, so she threw it out and moved on. Besides, Nurse Redheart had said that being a milkmaid was basically a natural thing, just a rare one, and Twilight had just accidentally triggered magic powers that had already been there. If anything it was her parents’ fault, unless she’d run into any other magic spells before Twilight had shown up, and just not realized it?

The music swelled, half a dozen drums struck resoundingly together, and Pinkie’s eyes widened through her tears. What if…?

She could just picture it. Younger Pinkie Pie, eight or nine years old, discovering Santa Claus in Sugarcube Corner’s pantry eating the cookies. What would she do? Well, she loved cookies, so naturally she’d want to sit down and join him! And then eventually she’d get thirsty, and she’d ask him for milk…

…and then someday at the North Pole, Santa Claus would be going through old unpaid bills and fan-mail and things, and he’d find a note that he was supposed to give a girl named Pinkie Pie some milk. So he’d snap his fingers and wink or whatever it was Santa Claus did, and suddenly Pinkie Pie’s boobs produced strawberry milk and could grow and all that other stuff, at least once magical pony princess Twilight Sparkle showed up to trigger it! Was that it? Were all her adventures of late solely the result of some bored guy randomly deciding to give her magic milk powers, without caring what kind of effects it might have on the existing life she’d been busy already having?

The background music turned slow and reedy, while still growing steadily in volume. That was true, wasn’t it? Nearly everything that had happened to her since Twilight had come back was because of her tits. Giving her friends milk in the cafeteria; fucking Nurse Frontparts; the interview with Vice-Principal Luna; meeting Sweet Leaf; the half-time show; the orgy; even everything with Fluttershy, who she’d been dreaming of for so long… every last awesome bit of that had happened because her tits had started growing. Not because she was a fun and friendly girl who didn’t get the best grades but still tried really hard and loved to make sure everyone around her was having a good time, but because she suddenly had big boobs.

Abruptly the music stopped, and Pinkie heard a scuffling of feet as someone approached her. “Excuse me,” asked a girl with a clear, straightforward voice that rumbled with untapped energy, “are you all right?”

Pinkie raised her head and blinked. There was a manila-skinned girl kneeling before her, concern in her tall teal eyes and pointed nose. Her cheekbones protruded slightly outward, and her head was framed by pointy teal hair that refused to hide inside her tall, brimmed blue hat with its tennis ball emblem and massive yellow feather. Her lips looked thin yet soft, and crinkled slightly at the corners even while she frowned. Thick, dark green eyebrows completed her face, giving her the look of a commander tempered by inner kindness.

Pinkie sniffed tiredly and looked down at the girl’s body, which was covered up in an elaborate, deep blue military-style outfit, with a bright golden sash running from shoulder to hip and nestling itself just a bit between her generous pair of boobs. They were probably smaller than Starshine’s and, sigh, it was just too much work trying to keep track of everyone’s comparative bust sizes. They looked quite appreciably large. The deep blue uniform thing came to a teasing halt just a few inches below her hips, like a tunic, right above tall white stockings and a pair of short blue shoes inlaid with golden ribbon. Dimly Pinkie realized from her uniform and colors that she had to belong to the Canterlot High marching band, and a quick look behind her at several dozen other girls in the same costume was enough for confirmation.

“Hello?” asked the girl, worry creeping into her voice. “Can you talk right now? Wait a second… Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie hiccupped and shook her head, feeling her too-straight hair whip around as she did. “That’s me!” she said, with somewhat falsified cheerfulness. “Sorry, I’m totally drawing a blank on who you are, but if you’ll leave your name and number with the receptionist…”

The girl laughed. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t think we’ve actually met… hi, my name’s Team Player.” She offered a hand, wrapped up in a shining golden glove, and Pinkie shook it slowly. “You can call me TP if you like, it’s shorter. I saw a naked girl hunched over in an alleyway and was worried something had happened to her, but I guess being naked’s no big deal for you, right?”

Pinkie looked at her curiously. There hadn’t been a hint of mockery or sarcasm or anything like that in Team Player—in TP’s question. Instead she’d made it sound like yeah, being naked was just something Pinkie Pie did sometimes, no big deal, and Pinkie rather thought she liked that viewpoint.

“That’s… a complicated question.” Pinkie shifted herself to sit sideways on her knees and made a vague effort to cover her tits with one arm. “Actually I was just on my way to my friend Rarity’s, to get some clothes to put on! Y’know, so that I wouldn’t be quite so naked. But… everybody was staring at me! Like, everybody everybody! And not the good kind of staring like ‘Whoa, that was a great trick she just did with that pineapple!’ but more like the bad kind of staring, like ‘Whoa, those sure are some great tits, I’d like to lay her down on a slab of wood and fuck her raw.’” Pinkie shuddered. “Probably some really sandpapery wood, too! Can you imagine how awful that would feel?”

TP shuddered too. “I’m not sure I want to. Didn’t… okay, look, Pinkie Pie, this is going to sound like a rude question, and I’m sorry. Did you not think this’d happen when you left home naked?”

“Not really!” TP looked worried again, and Pinkie giggled quietly. “I mean, I thought I could just walk around and happen to be naked at the same time, and maybe people would look at me and think `Whoa, she’s really good at being naked!’ But I think maybe I’m not as good at being naked as I thought I was, because it looks like my being naked turned out really really sexual and that wasn’t the point at all.”

“Okay, I think I’m starting to see where you’re coming from.” TP frowned and sat down beside Pinkie against the wall of the house, noticeably not looking at her arm-covered tits or anything like that. Pinkie noticed for a moment how her blue uniform hugged her boobs as she moved, but then quickly looked away, since repaying kindness with lust was just all sorts of rude. TP continued. “So again, I’m sorry, this is going to sound a lot like victim blaming, but you weren’t walking… sexily? In some way?”

Pinkie gasped. “Of course not! Wait, okay, actually, yeah, sort of. I mean, I was fondling my boobies for a while there because they were feeling sore, but that pretty late in the walk, and people’d been staring at me for ages before that too. Maybe I’m just sexy all the time, and it doesn’t matter how I walk?”

TP tapped one foot against the dusty ground of the alleyway, and the feather on her hat bobbed in time with the tapping. “Honestly, that’s probably it. It’s not fair, but I think a lot of girls could get away with public nudity a lot more easily than you… I’m sorry, but you do have a body that a lot of people find quite desirable.”

“A lot of people, huh?” Pinkie eyed her sharply. “How about you, then?”

“I…” TP swallowed. “Well, Pinkie Pie, I think since you’re in trouble here, I’ve been trying to make this conversation about you, so we can maybe find a solution to your—“

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Pinkie puckered her lips and blew out some air in what she hoped was a dismissive gesture. “But if I’m going to open up to you, I need to know some things about you too, right? What team does Team Player play for, if you know what I mean?”

TP smiled, hesitated, then looked Pinkie over head to toe, though somehow that felt less intrusive than when the random strangers did it. “You’re quite good-looking,” she said earnestly. “Fortunately, though, I’ve spent enough time in locker rooms with undressed girls that I can keep my cool.”

“Locker rooms?”

She pointed at the emblem on her hat. “Tennis. Regional champion.”

“Nice!”

“Thanks!” TP smiled again, and Pinkie got the impression she’d rather be smiling more, given the chance. She was definitely trying to help out, but she kept hesitating and apologizing too, which probably made for slower going. “So, um… what do you want to do now? I don’t think we’ve got any spare uniforms, especially for your size.” Pinkie raised an eyebrow at her, and she blushed slightly. “Sorry. We could try to form a ring around you, maybe? We’ve got a whole lot of practice at walking in formation!”

Pinkie shook her head. “Pretty sure people would notice a naked girl walking in the middle of a bunch of people in elaborate uniforms. Heck, isn’t getting people to stare at you half your job?”

TP groaned. “You’re right! I really didn’t think that through. Okay, so what if, what if… I’ve got it!” Her face lit up, and she jumped to her feet and offered Pinkie a hand, which Pinkie accepted warily. “Come on, I’ll explain to the rest of the girls what’s going on.”

Pinkie and Team Player emerged from the alleyway to meet fourteen or fifteen other girls, all in the same uniform as TP’s but slightly less elaborate, waiting for them. She recognized the blonde purple girl that she’d sprayed with milk the night before, and some of the rockers, and maybe a few others if she took the time to think about it. They carried all sorts of very fancy and impressive-looking instruments, most of which Pinkie couldn’t have named if she’d tried, aside from the really basic stuff like drums or hurdy gurdies. Most of them were standing around lazily, but they snapped to attention when they saw TP looking at them.

“At ease, privates,” said TP. “Pinkie, this is School Spirit, the Canterlot High girls’ marching band. Privates, this is Pinkie Pie. She’s naked.” This news was met with chuckles and a whistle from somewhere in the ranks, until TP glared at them and all noise ceased. The presence of the other band members seemed to have made her transition perfectly into the role of a stern leader.

Pinkie waved, leaving her boobs to hang free while she covered up her pussy with her other hand. “Hi, everybody!”

TP crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Privates, I don’t need to tell you who Pinkie Pie is, but that’s not even the issue. Today, Pinkie Pie’s in trouble, and she’s a student at Canterlot High… one of us. We are School Spirit! We do not leave a girl behind!”

The band cheered, and Pinkie tried to remember what the boys’ band was called. School Pride, maybe? That sounded right. The two teams probably had some sort of awesome rivalry going on that it wasn’t really the right time to ask about.

“Pinkie Pie,” continued TP, “is in trouble. She’s naked and good-looking, and this is making people stare at her or try to assault her. School Spirit, are we going to let this stand?!” There was a rousing cheer of No!, and Pinkie felt her spirits soar along with the cheering. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed some of her hair pouf back into place, so she guessed it wasn’t just her spirits that were getting to do some soaring.

“Great!” TP clapped her hands. “Look, privates… I want to be clear about this, my plan isn’t an order. If you’re not comfortable, you can stay here until we get back, and nobody will ask you any questions. But Pinkie Pie needs a way to get to Rarity’s shop without being so obtrusive, and we’re going to help her out. Remember, this is Pinkie Pie we’re talking about here! Any questions?”

A tall, blue-skinned girl with reddish purple hair raised her hand, looking puzzled. “Uhh… yeah, one question! What’s your plan, order or not?”

“We change the math.” Before Pinkie could try to guess what that meant, TP had already begun unbuttoning her uniform down the front. In a few seconds her sizable boobs hung free, apparently braless. Pinkie’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of her proud, slightly oval-shaped red nipples and the big light yellow mounds beneath them. TP smiled slightly, finished unbuttoning her uniform, and dropped it to the ground sash and all. “One naked girl,” she said, “is a slut.” A pair of bright teal panties that matched her eyes and hair were all that she was left wearing between her hat and her stockings, and she moved to pull those off as well and reveal a thoroughly shaved pussy and its curvaceous outer lips. “A whole bunch of naked girls, walking in step and playing musical instruments? That’s a parade.” She kicked the panties off to one side and smiled confidently. “And I bet if enough of you privates show off your privates for Pinkie here, we’ll be enough of a distraction that it’ll barely be sexual at all.”

Pinkie stared at her, even managing to stare at her face instead of her body in light of all that stuff she’d just said. “You’re awesome!”

“You’re in need.” TP flashed a smile, looking genuinely grateful for the compliment in among her military-style confidence, then turned back. “Well, privates? Who wants to help Pinkie Pie?”

For a few seconds no one moved. Then one by one the band began to undress, unbuttoning tunics and bras and throwing them and colorful underwear to the ground. Pinkie stared enraptured as well over a dozen fit girls shed their clothes for her, boobs of all sizes standing all but ready for inspection, pussies shaved or otherwise and sometimes glittering with wet anticipation. They came to stand beside her and TP, wearing feathered hats and gloves and stockings and boots but nothing in the middle. Some nervously tried to cover themselves up with their instruments, which varied in success, while others embraced their sudden nudity either casually or proudly. TP beamed with pride, and Pinkie felt her eyes watering again.

“Private Ball Kicker?” TP looked at the purple, blonde-haired girl who’d come to fetch Pinkie from her tent the night before, who was the only one still fully dressed. “You’re not joining us?”

“Uh, like, no?” Ball Kicker stuck out her tongue in disgust. “I’m not, like, helping some party-happy sexpot flounce naked over to her seamstress concubine so that they can, like, go fuck each other.”

Pinkie opened her mouth to reply, but TP shushed her. “I’m sorry you feel that way, private,” she said, little to no emotion showing in her words. “In that case, you can wait here and make sure nobody steals our clothes. School Spirit… march!”

They marched.

At first Pinkie kept mostly to the rear of the band, where row after row of dizzyingly many-colored rear ends filled her vision, bouncing firmly up and down in time with the music. But following other people around got boring fast, and besides, if the whole point of the parade was not being so sexual, then leering at girls’ butts probably wasn’t the best way to do that. So she trotted to the front of the group instead, next to TP, who gave her a tuning harmonica to play. “So you look more natural,” she said. “I guess you’re still wearing less than the rest of us, but it’s less dramatic, and we don’t have any extra uniforms.”

“Aww!” Pinkie pouted, but stuck out her tongue to suggest she wasn’t being too serious. “Not even an extra-tall cap thing with a feather?”

TP glanced up at her own, with its tennis ball symbol. “Shako?”

“No thanks, I just ate.”

TP bared her teeth for a moment, then started to laugh, her feather shaking in the faint breeze and her boobs rising and falling admirably. She clapped Pinkie on the shoulder, an athlete’s strength pounding through the clap, and Pinkie grinned through her jittering teeth. All was right with the world! She was cracking jokes and people were laughing and she was surrounded by naked girls. Or walking in front of naked girls, anyway. Leading them!

And how many chances was she really going to get in life to lead a band, anyhow? Whatever the number was, it clearly wouldn’t be high enough, so she might as well take advantage of the chance while she still had it. She punched her right hand high in the air, and quivered in excitement as a tuba blasted out a responding salute. She lowered her hand a little and waved it through the air, like the rippling surface of the ocean, and was rewarded with the vibrations of a violin. She blew on her harmonica, and the band followed her, changing key and tempo to match her every whim. TP marched step by step beside her, waving a blue flag around in a dizzying series of twists and twirls, each one obviously heavily practiced yet just organic enough to match Pinkie’s haphazard whims and give the band behind them a little extra instruction for how best to follow her lead.

As Pinkie’s trust in the band to follow her increased, so did her daringness to try new things. She stopped marching and the band stopped with her, as demonstrated by none of them crashing into her from behind. She started again, and they started too. The band followed her as she grapevined in one direction or another, matching her perfectly step for step, and the music continued to evolve and reflect their marching and her movements. Pinkie crouched low to the ground, walking forward only in wide and sweeping steps, and the music changed to match this and turned soulful yet excited, instruments drawing from the lowest parts of their ranges but trickling playfully up the scale at each long step. Pinkie drew herself to her fullest height and marched purposefully forward, her entire body rising and falling with each deliberate step, and the brass section came to life, proclaiming to the world that Pinkie Pie was on her way and commanded their respect.

Of course, that was an oversimplification. Team Player was their major, not her, and they were getting their marching instructions through her. If she took the time to think about it, what TP was doing was incredible. Pinkie could feel the manila girl’s eyes roaming over her constantly, noting each movement before she even made it, ready to react and tell the band behind them what to do. A time or two Pinkie tried to fake TP out by pretending to do something and then changing her mind at the last moment, but that just left the band confused and discordant, and that made her feel guilty. Instead she let TP keep doing her thing, analyzing every twitch of her hand or shift in her gait and transforming it into instructions for beautiful music. TP’s gaze was more thorough and intimate than even the most devoted of lovers’, taking in every inch of Pinkie’s naked body in immense detail, and both their pussies were gently dripping as a result.

From time to time Pinkie would twirl around, in place or while still marching, to get a look at the rest of the band. The girls were intent on their music and their marching, each one beautiful in her concentration. Shining lips embraced flutes and trombones as devoutly as though clamped around hard nipples, curving in subtle, proud smiles, and instruments rested atop full round breasts or snaked around girls’ torsos with their long brass tails. Two girls marched side by side beating enormous drums painted in blue and gold with distinctive Canterlot High imagery, and the straps for the drums nestled between their breasts, just thick enough to push them apart a little. Golden gloves and white stockings and tall blue “shakos” framed the players at their extremities, bordering a dozen naked bodies in as many body types and hairstyles and pastel-based color schemes. It was inspiring and elegant and Pinkie had to wipe a tear from her eye at the thought they were doing all this just for her.

And in the brief moments that Pinkie took the time to look around them and unfasten her focus from the music and marching and solidarity and sisterhood and all that stuff, she could see the plan really was working. The townspeople were definitely noticing them, but together they were hailed with cheers instead of jeers. Sure, there were always some people drooling at the sight of a parade of nubile young girls in admittedly fetishized uniforms, but they were remarkably in the minority, and nobody was angry at her for daring to have big boobs anymore. They weren’t sluts. They were companions, proud of their talents and their bodies both, beautiful and musical and sharing all their gifts with the world.

And then it was all over, they were in front of Rarity’s dress shop and that was where she’d been going in the first place Pinkie had no more reason to keep an entire marching band with her. Pinkie found herself bursting into tears, and she hugged TP as tight as she could and buried her face in her hair and whispered random grateful noises while their tits squashed each other.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right,” said TP, the strength in her voice rumbling into amusement. “We were already marching. It’s not a big deal.”

Pinkie pulled back her head and blinked some of her happy tears away. “No, it totally is! You didn’t have to do any of that, especially not your whole band!” Neither of them bothered to mention Private Ball Kicker. “You, I… look, I’m not on any actual schedule to talk to Rarity here. Can I at least offer you a quick fuck or something in thanks?”

TP looked hastily away, uncertainty creeping into her voice. “Pinkie Pie, you don’t have to do that…”

“No, but I’d like to!” Pinkie gave her most winning smile and lowered her eyelids a little. “You were checking me out enough while we were marching, you can’t tell me you didn’t like what you saw, hmmmmmm? And you’ve got some pretty tantalizing ta-tas, too!” Pinkie made to fondle TP to illustrate, only to have her hands slapped forcefully away. She gasped in pain and surprise, and TP leapt backwards a couple feet, eying her warily.

“Pinkie Pie,” said TP, the sound of fear leaking into her words. Pinkie could see that she was poised to flee if she had to, despite definitely being much stronger than Pinkie was, and an immense wave of guilt washed over her. “Pinkie,” she said, “I’m not consenting.”

“And I’m not assaulting.” Pinkie spoke the words almost mechanically, lifting her hands up above her head to emphasize how unthreatening she was. “Team Player… I’m sorry! I didn’t think, I mean, lately it feels like every interaction I have with everyone ends up turning into sex, and I wasn’t, I just automatically assumed…”

“It’s okay.” TP very slowly shifted herself back into a casual standing position. “You know, I’m sorry too. It’s not that you’re not attractive, but I don’t think this is really the proper… look, I am sorry.” She scuffed one foot against the sidewalk. “Would it okay if we just had a kiss? No fondling?”

Pinkie smiled and relowered her hands, cautiously to match TP’s own readjustment. “I’d like that.”

TP smiled too and took Pinkie into her strong, tennis-playing arms, and Pinkie squished gratefully against her. TP’s lips were every bit as soft as they’d looked at a distance, tasting somewhat of sweat, and they clamped around Pinkie in a hold that was loving and firm despite her earlier protests. Pinkie ran her tongue along and around any part of TP’s mouth she could find, and TP snuggled warmly against her, her bright golden gloves holding Pinkie close without being too tight. Pinkie considerately leaned her lower half backwards, taking care not to press her slightly damp pussy against TP’s leg or anything like that, and TP chewed very lightly on Pinkie’s upper lip.

“Mmmmm.” TP smiled again as they parted. “That was nice. I guess you can talk to Rarity now?”

“I guess so.” Pinkie gazed at the other girl suspiciously. “Or maybe you could fess up and tell me the real reason you’re being so helpful?”

“Wha?” TP’s eyes went wide and flicked to the side, though Pinkie noted smugly that she didn’t get out of their embrace or anything like that. “I, Pinkie Pie, I told you, you were a student in need, and we’re School Spirit, and…”

“And?” Pinkie darted her tongue out to lick the very tip of TP’s nose, and she quivered into silence. “Then what was that thing you told the band, hmmm? You didn’t need to tell them who I was, but that wasn’t the issue, something like that?” She mock-frowned. “Honestly, Team Player, just because I’ve got big tits doesn’t make me a dummy.” Her grades might, she supposed, but that felt less on-topic.

“I never—“ TP sputtered for a moment, then sagged into Pinkie’s arms. “Okay, you got me. I’m sorry. It’s not like I meant to… you really want to know my story?”

Pinkie grinned. “Sure! You seem interesting enough, and it sounds like I’m important in it somehow, right? I mean, if you really don’t want to, that’s fine too. But if you don’t mind, then go for it, and we can keep standing here kissing in the meantime or not or whatever makes you comfortable.”

TP blushed brighter than Pinkie had ever seen her, but pecked Pinkie quickly on the lips anyway. “No, this is good… I mean, it’s weird! Really weird. Sorry. But it’ll be really hard for me to back out or hide anything if we’re standing like this.” She blushed again. “And, uh, if you could just not tell me what the privates are doing, that would be great.”

Pinkie risked a glance around TP’s head to check out the rest of the band. They were all watching Pinkie Pie wrapped around their leader, though at least a few had the good graces to pretend to look away when Pinkie stared at them. Some of the girls were smiling dreamily at the pair of them, while others looked merely curious, and one of the drum players was sitting off to the side doing a very poor job of trying to be subtle about fingering herself. Pinkie grinned toothily. “My lips are sealed!”

“Thanks.” TP kissed Pinkie again, presumably for courage or something. “Sorry. Um. So I’m a junior, okay? I actually only turned legal a few months ago, so it’s a good thing none of this happened to you sooner.” Small blush. “But I have a brother who’s only a couple years older than me, and he used to go to Canterlot High too. I guess he’d have graduated at the end of your… freshman year? So I don’t know if you’d have known him. Ace? Tallish guy, brown beard, played a lot of tennis?”

Pinkie thought about it, but really her freshman year had been pretty much devoted to Dashie and Applejack and Rarity and Fluttershy. She made to shake her head, then grinned. “Team Player and Ace Player, huh?”

“…our parents aren’t as clever as they think they are.”

“Hey, I’m pretty sure I was named for having pink hair and not being a cake, so you’ll hear no guff from me!”

TP smiled gratefully and pulled Pinkie closer against her. “Thanks. Look, my point is just that thanks to Ace, I know what Canterlot High used to be like, probably a lot better than you do. Our party planner used to be this hairy kid named Sombra, and all the school functions ended up being less dances and more, uh, crystal-studying sessions.” She grinned ruefully.

Pinkie shuddered at the idea of a rock concert taken all too literally. “So not much dancing, huh?”

“Worse.” TP petted Pinkie’s hair absently with one glove. “I think that parties have a bigger effect than just the time spent at the party itself. Canterlot High wasn’t a very happy place. There were no rainbows… there were no streamers… there were only rocks. Ace only stayed because he had friends here, and I was planning to go somewhere else for high school. But everything started getting better during his senior year.”

Pinkie frowned and did her best to line up years and ages and graduations while hugging a pretty girl inches away from her face. TP must have seen her struggle, since she giggled. “His senior year was when you took over the school, Pinkie.” She delivered another quick kiss to Pinkie’s lips for emphasis.

“I didn’t take over the school!” Pinkie’s eyes were wide at the very thought. “Taking over is for people like Sunset Shimmer! All I did was throw parties, there’s nothing invasionary or whatever about that!”

“Parties that made people care about the school again.” TP petted Pinkie’s back, one hand just grazing the top of her butt. “Parties that made me want to come here at all. Parties that made people start marching bands and name them School Spirit and School Pride, which I couldn’t have come to lead if people hadn’t been proud enough of the school to form them before me.” She kissed Pinkie again, a little longer than the last couple times, for devotion instead of for mere punctuation. “The way I see it, Pinkie Pie, you are the school. Everything you’ve done for this place your first seven semesters has been wonderful, and I’m terrified to see what will happen next year, when you’re gone.”

Pinkie felt a flush spreading all through her body, going far beyond any little blush of embarrassment or temporary arousal. Nobody had ever… ever thought to tell her… she was almost primed to try ravishing TP again and see if she’d get better results a second time, when an oddity of her phrasing struck her, and she frowned. “Wait, what do you mean, my first seven semesters?”

TP bit her lip and looked at the ground. Well, she looked at Pinkie’s tits, but presumably the ground was what she was going for. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I mean, at first you were doing fine, but I…”

“Is this about all the sex?”

“It’s about all the sex.” TP withdrew her arms from around Pinkie’s back to clutch her hands instead. “You don’t seem to be the same Pinkie Pie you were anymore. And obviously it’s your body, your choice, all that stuff, and I’m not going to tell you not to have lots of orgies if you want to… but that’s not the fun-loving, bouncy-haired, physics-defying party planner who made me want to come to Canterlot High.”

Pinkie’s lip trembled. “Are you telling me to stop?”

“No! Of course not!” TP squeezed her hands tight. “Pinkie, I would never tell you what you can or can’t do! I just miss… no, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. This is my problem, not yours. I… look, I’ve got to go, we need to go rejoin Ball Kicker and get our uniforms back on and everything.” She sighed. “Have fun with Rarity.”

Pinkie nodded silently and watched while TP and the rest of the band marched away, trumpets blasting. What was she supposed to say to that? Besides, well, saying nothing and letting her go. TP wasn’t wrong. She did feel different. She was having a lot of awesome sex, and that was awesome, but what about her old life? What about Applejack and Rainbow Dash? What about parties? Flower Child’s party was going to be… well, it would certainly be something! That and the Twilight Got Laid party needed to come as fast as possible before she got even more confused and despondent. What in the world was she supposed to do in the meantime?

First off, she needed to talk to Rarity and get some clothes. Pinkie cast a last look at the retreating marching band, sighed, squared her shoulders, patted her tits, and entered the dress shop.

Author's Notes:

TP isn't a girl who gets much attention. Since this chapter was released, though, she's gotten tagged "tennis match" pretty consistently on derpibooru, and every one in a while someone draws her standing around. There's nothing about marching bands in EQG canon, but why not?