“Hello,” cooed a familiar, soothing voice, dripping with sauciness.

Connor found himself back in his human form and in a room filled with lit and scented candles. The entire room was draped with red, silky curtains and sheets. A heart-shaped bed with a canopy sat in the exact middle of the room. Among the rose petals and next to a bottle of champagne resting on top of it, that voluptuous brunette was lying on her side, curling her leg up over her other to reveal her curvy thighs. She was wearing a white bra with a thin, white veil draping over abdomen. Her panties were the same structure as the bra. She stroked up her smooth, gleaming thigh with her perfectly carved hands, ornate with slender fingers.

“Ohhhh, no!" he shook his head, backing away from her. “Noooo! Nooo-nononononono. No... Not this time.”

“What’s wrong?” she coyly asked, pursing her lips, trying to look sexy... which was not working. Oh God, how he despised that face she was making. It reminded him of those sleazy girls in the sketchy dating agency advertisements he found on the internet and billboards. What was so attractive about that kind of face anyway?

“You," he bluntly replied with no hesitation. "Every single time I run into you, you always brutalize me in a weird and kinky way, then I wake up having to put bandages on myself. It never fails!”

“I can assure you,” she purred. “That won’t happen tonight. I guarantee it.”

“Pfft... Right," he rolled his eyes.

“C’mon, baby," she smiled saucily, shimmying her shoulders slowly. "Come here and lie down with mama. We're gonna have some fun tonight..."

He puked in his mouth. “'Mama'!? Ughh! What the hell!? Phrasing! And, NO, I don’t want to have fun! Not with you. We’re done."

“Wait, we’re done?”

“Yeah... DONE.”

“Are… Are you kidding me?” The brunette pushed herself up off the bed, stomping up to him. “What do you mean we're done?? You can’t do this to me! I’m your fantasy, for God's sake!”

“Was my fantasy," he sniffed, crossing his arms. "I’ve changed now. I held onto you because I was a hopeless, insecure, unconfident, immature wimp. Now, I’ve matured a lot more than you can imagine, sister, so, basically, I don’t need you anymore. Now, you can take your bras, panties, champagne, and Lord-knows-what and be on your way.”

“It’s that Fluttershy, isn’t it?" she huffed. "Are you freaking blind?! She’s a pony, genius! What are you, some kind of bestial freak? Knowing that you are a total ethics pansy, I doubt you can do anything thing with her!”

“Sure I can!” he retorted challengingly.

“Oh, ho! Okay then, buster! Tell me! What are you gonna do with her?”

“Hmm, let me guess, help her with her animal friends, take her out to dinner, walk in the park, play cards, play instruments, share a sundae...”

It was not the kind of answer the brunette was expecting. A point on the scoreboard for Connor.

“How can you do this to me?? What does that pony have that I don’t?” she huffed.

“Well, she’s nice, kind, sweet, gentle, adorable, and she doesn’t always act so kinky and horny unlike you. She’s too sweet and innocent for that sort of thing.”

“Just listen to yourself! I can’t believe this! After all I had done for you, this is how you treat me, you pig!”

“All you've done for me? All you’ve ever done was attack my nose. Not very beneficial, if you ask me."

“You ungrateful prick! Ugh! Falling in love with a freaking pony! A horse! A whore horse! Well, you know what? Fine! I'm leaving! Congratulations, moron! You have just lost all of this!” She gestured to her bodacious figure. “I hope you’re happy!”

“I most certainly am...”

SLAP!

“Ow! WHA-? Wha—?”

Connor jumped awake. Antsy, he looked around, unfamiliar with his surroundings. He glanced at his limbs to find out that he was still a pony. He slumped back down on the bed, sighing in relief. It was only a dream. He chuckled to himself. Even though that brunette slapped him in the face, he was glad that she was gone. No more kinky business with her, that was for sure. Her lady parts looked a too disproportionate on her anyway…

Wait, who slapped him?

Meow!

Oh, great… the cat from hell. Counting to three, he turned to Opalescence, who was sitting directly next to him on the bed. As usual, she stared at him bemusedly, which he could easily tell from her mascara. Seriously, why did Rarity give the cat mascara? Having his fill of being attacked by the mangy furball, the colt slowly leaned closer and glared at her.

“If you lay another paw on me, I swear…" he growled, pointing a firm hoof at her. "I swear… that I will make your life a living hell. Are you gonna hit me now? C'mon, cat, I dare you. I freaking dare you, cat. Come on, give me another,” he egged her, ever so wanting to wreak havoc onto her since the moment he met her.

Opalescence still had a bemused look imprinted on her furry, white face. She glanced at his hoof, before looking back at him again.

"Well?"

To his surprise, the cat crawled underneath his hoof and rubbed her back against his fur. She purred warmly with no hint of reluctance or contempt at all.

The colt was stunned. Opalescence finally softened up to him. Maybe she was not a cat from hell, after all. Appreciative of the cat’s newfound attitude, he returned his affection with a gentle stroke on her back. The way her back flexed to meet his hoof made it obvious that she enjoyed it. She released herself from the colt’s grip and circled around a small patch of comforter before lying herself down next to him. She gave her paw a lick or two, and curled up into a white ball of soft fur. Connor could not help but stroke her fur again. She was very soft.

“No hard feelings?”

Opalescence licked the human’s hoof.

"Heh... No hard feelings..." he grinned.

Careful not to disturb her, he reached behind his pillow with his other hoof and slid the baseball bat out from behind it. He placed it under his bed, for he would not need it anymore.

“Yoo-hoooo!” Rarity called from kitchen. “Breakfast is ready! It’s your favorite!”

Connor slowly slid out of the bed, so he would not disturb Opalescence. When he placed his hooves on the floor, he ran to the kitchen. He would not miss her eggs for the world.