I look behind me to make sure the coast is clear. Alright, good, door is closed, roommate isn't nearby, let's do this. I turn back to the computer monitor, clicking on the Google Chrome icon. Oh, incognito mode too, you can never be too safe. What I’m about to do may or may not be construed as incredibly fucked up… but hey, that’s never stopped me before, has it?

Oh, I see the artists have been incredibly busy while I was away! There’s a pic of Rarity enjoying a nice plate of steaming hot pussy, much to the pleasure of the always beautiful Rainbow Dash (who looks like she’s had plenty of water to drink), a drawing of Twilight who seems to be enjoying that rather well-endowed royal guard from behind… oh, and let’s go ahead and save that one. I scroll down to see a new set of pictures. One in particular catches my eye. Bravo, my good brony, that’s perfect.

Now, I’m not a man to gush about something, but certain things need to be said about this picture. She stands in front of me dark pink mare who teaches school to the foals in Ponyville, the sexy Ms. Cheerilee herself. Though, from this position, you’d hardly think she was a teacher. Those two bloated, puffy lips were spread apart, allowing the viewer to see the slick pink flesh of her inner pussy, just begging to have something slip in and rub it raw. At the very bottom, you could just make out the very tip of her clitoris, big and round just like a real horse’s. Her ring-shaped, pert looking plothole gave me shivers at the thought of prodding a finger or two in there. It certainly gave off a stretchy, elastic sort of vibe. The entire view looks so… inviting.

Welp, I found what I’m going to do for the next ten minutes.

I push up my keyboard and slowly move my hands down to my zipper. Thank you, god, for this opportunity to get my rocks off to some of the sexiest images I’ve ever seen. Nothing can ruin this moment.

“This is getting to become a big fucking problem, Dan…” a voice says, catching my attention from the open door to my room. Holy shit! I frantically turn over to see my roommate, Brian, standing with his arms crossed and a not so pleased look on his face. I scramble to minimize my browser and almost fall as I flip around in my rolly chair. Fuck! Did he see? If he saw, I’m so dead! Or… perhaps… he’ll be dead. I’m not going to lie. I’m thinking about the prospect of how long it would take to bury him somewhere in the woods…

“...and what would that be?” I ask. I really hope he didn’t see me clopping… please be about anything else. Shit, I think he can see past my poker face. I’m awful at poker! God, why did I never learn how to play poker?!

“Dude, you know damn well what I mean.” Well, shit. I wonder where I put my shovel. Couldn’t have gotten too far.

I look at him and raise an eyebrow, leaning back in my chair and trying to play it as cool as I possibly can, because after all, I’m innocent until proven guilty, right? I’ve seen A Few Good Men, and I’m pretty sure that was part of the movie. “What are you talking about? I wasn’t looking up something I wasn’t supposed to. What would make you think I was looking at some sort of weird porn?” I give a weak chuckle to mask my nervous composure. Ah damnit...

He just stares at me. “Brian, what the hell are you talking about? No!” He shakes his head. “I’m talking about that smell!”

What, can he smell me masturbating? Oh god, if I knew he had this power before, I would have done so much before now! Like solve crime! Or fart on his face while he’s asleep… well, more so than I do now.

He clips his pale nose with two fingers and rolls his other palm through his brown hair. I just sit there attempting to look as oblivious as ever. “What smell?” I ask as I give the air a few sniffs, trying to find the source of what he’s talking about. I even lift up my arms to see if it’s my B.O., but nope. Fresh as a daisy. Thanks Irish Spring™!

“You can’t be serious,” he says. “You’re not gonna tell me that you can’t smell that!”

I use my arms to waft a little bit of the surrounding area into my face, but still it smells like it always does: a bit of old pizza, dust, and vaseline. Nothin’ out of the ordinary, I suppose. Maybe a little musty, but otherwise, I still smell the same. Eventually, I get tired of guessing and throw up my hands while shaking my head. “What the hell are you talking about, man? I can’t smell shit.”

Suddenly, four loud bangs erupt from the ground below us accompanied by a shrill voice that seems to fill us both with terror. “Both of you! Quit cursing in front of Jesus!” Oh god, we woke her up!

“Sorry, Mrs. Cheswick!” we both call out, waiting to hear the familiar squeak of our old, vulcher of a landlord—she even has a grizzled neck—to sit back in her creaking chair. That lady is one crazy bat. This one time, she made us clean out the gutters of the building—which took about three hours—and gave us a nickel when we finished up. A nickel! I don’t even think a nickel was appropriate payment in the 1960’s. I mean, are we talking WWII era, or depression? Quite frankly, she could be either, and because of that, Brian and I have a running bet. He says she was a flapper in the 20’s, I say she was a member of the Nazi party back when Hitler was still kicking. Both sides are extremely credible at this point.

Brian turns and hisses at me. “This entire room smells like a horse!” I look at him with an incredulous expression. Really, dude. That’s what you’re complaining about?

“Well?” I say. “We do live near a race track… and work in the stables… with horses.” I roll my eyes. “That could explain why we smell like, oh, I dunno, horses.” For god sakes, he spends more time with them than I do! I should be the one complaining! “And hey, it’s not like you smell any better!”

He frowns at my sarcasm and shakes his head. “No, you’ve got something mixed up,” he says. “You see, I choose to shower on a regular basis and keep my clothing neatly packed in a hamper when they’re dirty.” He shuffles over to my bed. “While you, decide that showers are of the “optional” variety and stuff all your dirty clothes under your bed.” Without even looking, he reaches down and pulls out a sock from under my bed, holding it up to prove his point. In a very douchey way, I might add.

“See this sock?” I roll my eyes and give him an exasperated nod. “This sock is you,” he says. “Dirty, wadded up in its tiny little safe spot, and smelling of—you guessed it—horse.”

Come on, dude, I get the point.

“And do you know how this sock’s bunkmate feels?” I would tell you if I could find it… “It’s literally choking on the fumes ruminating off of that putrid, couch-potato sock that thinks it doesn’t know that he was just about to clop off to a close-up of pony vagina…”

My face goes red. What the…? I can only stare at him as he gives me a sly smile, and I know my cheeks are burning a bright red. Secret is blown! Abort! Abort! Get the shovel!

“That’s right, I know you’ve been getting your rocks off to My Little Pony,” I wince as his bluntness slaps my face like a cold fish, “but quite frankly, I don’t care as long as you don’t do it on my bed…” He scratches his head and walks over to his dresser, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out a beige towel. He throws it at me. “Now please, for the love of everything that’s holy, go take a shower while I disinfect the room with a gallon of Lemon Pledge.”

I’m too nervous to give him a straight up reply. I don’t even know how to respond. Literally, the biggest secret I’ve ever had was just thrown straight out into the open as if it were a question of what we were having for dinner. It’s out there… public information at this point. I mean, he’s probably not going to tell people, but… now there’s a loose end. What if I wanted to run for office one day?! How would it be if the mayor of some town was outed as having clopped off to pictures of sexy mares giving each other head!? Where the hell did I put that shovel!? Finally, I answer him.

“L-Lemon Pledge? Why lemons? I thought you hated lemons.”

“It’s better than horse apples,” he deadpans. “But seriously, get the fuck out.”

Begrudgingly, I get up from the small rolly chair next to my computer and take the towel with me into the small bathroom that adjoins our apartment. Before I close the door, I look back at Brian. The adrenaline-filled shock feeling was still there, but I managed to think of something to toss back at him. “Hey, that sock that you touched…” He looks at me. “Well, it’s not dirty because I wore it!” His face contorts in confusion as he glances down at the sock and throws it away as if it had the plague. His eyes flash red with anger before I slam the door and twist the knob to lock it, laughing to myself all the way. What a fuck.

Well, Brian knows that I’m a clopper… I’m not sure how I feel about that. He knew I was a brony of course, but he didn’t know how much of a brony I really was. Up until then, I thought I was getting away with murder, careful to lock the deadbolt, clear my internet history every time I finished up, discard of any sanitation products I had used afterwards... But this is an interesting development indeed. The secret’s out: I want to shag a pony. I wonder if my parents would be proud of me...

Brian likes ponies too; in fact, it’s why he’s my roommate, thanks to Craigslist. You would never assume that he watches a show like My Little Pony, especially from his looks. There’s a reason he works as a handyman at a horse racing track. The dude is strong. He’s got a chiseled jaw, bigger build, and a very leathery set of meat hooks. Seriously, the first time he shook my hand, I thought I was touching a baseball glove.

I take off my shirt and pants and look in the dirtied mirror on the wall above the porcelain sink. My face is rough. I haven’t shaved in the past couple days so I’ve got a shaggy looking layer of scraggle across my cheeks and around my mouth. Two gruff caterpillars sleep over my brown eyes as I stare back at the beginnings of mountain man syndrome. He’s not the prettiest girl at the ball, that’s for sure, but I’d say he’s a pretty handsome fellow.

I lift up my armpits and this time, I make sure to get a real good whiff of myself. I take in a deep breath and smell nothing out of the ordinary. It’s the same old sweaty, just-got-outta-bed-at-noon type of scent that drives all the ladies over the edge. I furrow my brow as I turn on the shower. Now, it might just be my opinion, but showering once a day is good, right? I can’t smell like a horse because of that, can I?

It’s only when I’m outside in the heat that I realize how tired I actually am. My legs… oh god, they’re burning as if I had run a marathon, and my arms feel tight as hell. But that’s not all. Worst of all, my bum is acting as if I had squatted a thousand pounds and then met an unfortunate end at the running of the bulls. It’s amazing how this wave of pain hadn’t hit me before, and ever since I walked out of the apartment complex and toward the stables right next door, I felt the aches steadily grow. I shrug it off (like a man!), though, as I make my way through the street and past the many spectators of today’s race. They’re here to gamble and not much else.

As I pass through the street, I suddenly feel very sick to my stomach. It passed over me as a gentle breeze rolled through my longer hair, carrying with it something that made my insides churn. I cover my nose and look around. People are walking every which way, talking to each other as I stood in the middle of the road. They range from wearing suits to tank tops, and from that I can tell who’s who, and who’s not. Though, over to my left, I spot the source of my distress.

It’s the hot dog stand… again. Seriously, it’s been like this for at least two days, and now it smells like something literally took a dump on a pile of rotting fish. I gag at the thought and nearly throw up at what I can taste in the air. I briefly considered talking to the owner yesterday, but then again, it’s not too big a deal I suppose. If this guy is selling bad food, someone will notice eventually… probably. Plus, I think I may be coming down with something; my whole olfactory sense has been going crazy lately. I mean, just yesterday, I was making my rounds with the oats I was feeding to the horses. They usually smell gross, but for some reason… they smelled delicious. I was almost tempted enough to take a handful to snack on in between jobs.

I continue to plug my nose as I enter the stable, coming to a halt in front of the first couple stalls. I take in a deep breath and let out a sigh of relief. Now this is a smell I can get used to. It felt so familiar to me. So warm. So comfortable. It took a long time to get used to it, but it finally feels like I can tolerate that horse smell.

It almost feels sort of… welcoming in a way. Like, something I can’t describe. A sense of safety? Almost like I should sleep in here instead of that stuffy apartment with a closet brony who’s afraid to tell his own best friend what he likes? I shrug it off, though, and go back to my job.

I check the charts as I walk by the stalls. The first horse is a Quarter Horse mare with a black coat and a white diamond on her head. She nickers as I get close to her. I smile, she’s one of my favorites, and I love feeding her because she’s one of the more placid horses in terms of human contact. Most horses are pretty tame once they’ve been broken in, but sometimes, they get a little rowdy, especially with the crowd outside making all the noise that it does.

I open the gate and move inside, taking a large stack of hay in my arms. Again, they’re burning pretty badly, but I soldier on. It bothers me though, because I don’t ever get this sore. Even back when I lifted weights constantly, I’d never feel like this. In fact, it’s... getting worse as time passes. I drop the hay in her bucket and move to turn around. Though, something’s in the way.

I turn around to see the horse cutting me off, turned away, and raising her tail to me. A long equine slit stares me in the eye, and it winks at me as if it’s trying to tell me a joke. It’s dripping a discolored liquid every time it fidgets, telling me she’s lubricated and ready to go. I feel myself blush. “Oh geez,” I say, “you’re in heat…” I make a move around her, but she blocks my way and whinnies at me. She can see me with her neck bent halfway, so it might be a little difficult to get around her.

Suddenly, she begins to move back and I stumble backwards, hitting the far corner of the stall. Ouch! Oh, shit! I look back to see I have nowhere to run and my eyes widen as she refuses to cease her backward advances. “Bad horse! Bad!” I yell. “Don’t- mfff.”

I can’t breathe… oh god, I can’t breathe and my mouth feels a lot wetter than it should. I slap and hack at the mare in front of me, whipping her flanks with my free hand as I try to pry her lips from mine. And I don’t mean the lips on her mouth either…

“Kyhaaa!” I take in a deep breath and I slip past her, running around and slamming the stable door behind me, just to catch her before she followed me. “What the fuck!” I scream, wiping her juices from my mouth. I just gave oral to a mare… unwillingly. Was I… was I just molested by a female horse? I scrape at my tongue and feel like I’m about to hurl.

The mare simply watches me and bobs her head up and down. “Stupid horse!” She doesn’t understand me, of course. Quite honestly I don’t know what to do. I mean… I just french kissed a fucking horse! And not even the innocent kind of french kissing! The dirty kind… the kind that you don’t tell your momma about over Sunday dinner.

My entire body shivers and I throw out all of the thoughts in my head. That’s… definitely something I don’t want to remember… ever. Better to forget about it and move on. I don’t want to be reminded with my intimacy with a big dripping horse cunt every time I go into work… no matter how sweet it tasted.

I stop myself. What the fuck. Was I just thinking about…?

I shake my head again. No. I wasn’t.

I stare at the horse. “Okay, now that you’ve had your fun, I’d better mark your chart. I’m not sure the owner will want to race you like this…” She neighs and stomps her hoof as if I had disappointed her. Hey, sorry that I can’t satisfy you, girl, but for one thing, I don’t think I could if I tried, and another, I’m not really into that sort of thing. Besides, you’ve had enough fun for today.

After I finish writing down some notes on a clipboard outside of her stall, I move onto to the next horse. He’s by far the fastest racer we’ve got, and usually, a giant pain in my ass. That taste of a horse’s vaginal lubrication is still lingering on my lips, and all I can think about is getting home and running my mouth under the faucet for a good hour.

The stallion is standing toward me, his head resting over the edge of the fence and looking dead into my eyes. “Hey, buddy,” I say, “are you going to bite me today?” He whinnies as if he understands and stomps his feet down a few times. I just chuckle as I go and grab some oats out of my bag. As long as you don’t make me lick your balls, I think we’ll be fine.

Once I return, I open the gate and step inside. I turn to my left and quickly pour his food into the bucket hanging on the wall. I go to turn around, but once again, I find something standing in my way. Oh, god damnit… The stallion has his head bent down and is carefully sniffing in the air around a certain delicate place of mine. I try pushing away his head. Hey, horsey that’s definitely not yours. He nudges my crotch and forces me to back up a little bit. I try to move around him, but he’s blocking my every path.

And that’s when I see it.

Underneath his stomach, I see his erect horsecock flaring as it beats against his undercarriage. My face really goes red when I see what he wants with me. “Uhh, bad horsey! No, I’m not a mare!” I push him as hard as I can, but he barely budges. It may be because I’m weaker than usual today, but I’m pretty sure it has more to do with the fact he wants to fuck me. I shiver at the thought. No words can describe how gross I feel right now. What the fuck is up with these horses!?

I look around for any alternative way around him, but every way is blocked… well, all but one. I look down near his behemoth of a cock and sigh. I grimace. I can already see a little bit of his white stallion-juice leaking from the tip and slowly falling to the floor. This was the only way, shit, why does this always happen to me? I hold my breath as if I thought I were diving underwater. I duck underneath and barrel through, closing my eyes to avoid the inevitable nightmares in the future. It was unavoidable, but I feel his giant dick slap my shoulder as I squeeze through. He neighs in what I can only think is a grunt of horse pleasure and quickly, I slam the stable door shut and lock it so he can’t chase after me. Fuck!

I can’t really think of anything to say; it’s all just way too weird. The smell of the mare in the other stall is what did it. He smells her in heat, hears her whinny in request, and for some reason, thinks I’m the one he should mount. I mean, it’s weird to think that if granted access, a horse would gladly… fuck me if given the chance.

I shake my head and pull myself away from the distractions. Everything doesn’t feel right. I don’t know, it could be the fact that I was molested twice on the same day by 900 pound racehorses, but even disregarding that, I feel… strange. I can’t put my finger on it, but something is definitely… different. My muscles ache and burn, my nose is going crazy at every smell, and being in here makes me feel so… sleepy. Like I want to curl up into a ball and sleep away the day, right in one of these stables. I don’t know why, but that’s what I feel like.

I look up at the rest of my work. There are about fourteen other stalls, each containing a different horse. My mouth falls open. “OH, COME ON!”

Each horse I see is either facing toward me with a thick erection hanging from their crotch, or facing away with their tails up in the air, inviting me to repeat my previous intimate activity. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me! I didn’t take this job for this shit! My legs feel wobbly and my chest aches. I’ve got a whole lot to do and little time to do it in. And the stallions are looking rowdier than ever.

I get back to the apartment at about nightfall, dragging my feet upstairs as it feels like I just finished swimming across the ocean from Cuba. I fumble around with my keys until (finally!) I open the door and slump in. Oh please god, just let me sleep! I sniff around. Hmm, smells like Lemon Pledge… ugh, I hate Lemon Pledge. It smells disgusting usually, and right now, since for some reason my nose decided to become ‘Supernose!’, I can smell it stronger than ever. My eyes are practically burning as I slink onto my mattress and sling my clothes under the bed. It’s too late to do anything else, no matter how much I want to end this night with that pic I found earlier, so I just slink down to my pillow, throw a blanket over my body, and allow the warm trappings of dreams spill over me and take me to my wildest fantasies.

Crinkle crinkle. Crinkle crinkle.

My eyes shoot open. What the fuck! I sit up and look around. Whatever I’m laying on is about to get tossed out of the fucking window. I don’t have time for this shit! I was nearly raped today, my clothes have horse semen stains from a stallion who got a little too excited, and the only thing I was looking forward to—yes, my precious sleep—is going to be stalled by a piece of shitty paper!

I look down at it, its smug grin grinding my teeth as I stare at it. I swear, if it was Brian who left me this, I’m kicking his ass when he gets back. My blurry eyes narrow as I can barely read the text. It’s actually written very fancily.

Dear Drunk guy,

I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch your name in-between all your profuse bile expulsion and occasional dry heaving. That being said, you might want to look over this notice before the night is over. You see, if you hadn’t already noticed, the changes in your body have begun to take place. It’s only a matter of time before you…

The letter kept going, but I had just crumpled it up and thrown it across the room. It was Brian. I know it was, and he’s a dumbass for thinking that would even register on my scale of fucks given. Hehe, he thinks he’s so funny. I roll my bleary eyes. For fuck’s sake, he’s a grown ass man.

I lay my head down on my pillow, shut my eyes, and allow myself to finally be taken by the gentle clasp of the sandman.

I wake up. What time is it? I don’t know. The room is partially lit by a streetlamp outside and I can make out the hulking mass of my roommate snoring underneath his sheets. Mental note: kick his ass in the morning. I allow myself to roll out of bed, and instinctually move myself into the bathroom. Everything’s a blur and my eyes are so cloudy, I can’t make out a thing. I can’t feel my body, really. I just know I’m moving somehow, almost like I’m on autopilot.

I make my way into the bathroom and move toward the toilet. It’s blurry, but…. for some reason, it looks incredibly higher than it was before. I dunno, maybe I’m just hunched over or something. Wait, am I crawling? I look down and see nothing but blur.

Well, I guess I could be sleeping, which probably is what’s going on. But I do need to pee a lot. I stand in front of the toilet and begin to let loose a stream of piss. Ahh, now that feels much better. I feel the warm piss stream leave my body, flowing out of me in a… weird, but pleasant way. And it’s also sort of weird that I don’t hear the noise of liquid hitting water…

Shit, did I miss? I look down and can’t see anything other than a blurry toilet seat. I shrug. I guess I can clean it in the morning.

I return to the bedroom and move toward my bed. Though, something crosses in the corner of my eye that I can’t ignore.

Wait, what… what was that?

I move toward the corner of the room that caught my eye and stare at the large vanity mirror that belongs to Brian. I don’t know why he owns this thing, but it’s too late for me to care. I rub my eyes and try to focus on the thing in the mirror.

I blink.

“Pffft,” I let out, beginning to laugh. Okay, I must be dreaming! That’s impossible! I look back into the mirror and see a pony staring back, only to break out into a fit of giggles. “Awww, I look adorable,” I slur, making my way back to bed. Heh, pony. That’s a good one! I’m still laughing as I put my head back down on the pillow and pull my covers back up.

Yeah, like I’d turn into a pony from Friendship is Magic. In my dreams...

Author's Notes:

Alright, last chance to turn back. Things get very spicy next chapter, and it might be a bit... strange at first. Hope you liked the setup, now, please enjoy the reward.

Edit: Please read the prologue before you go any further!