Okay, there she is. Don't choke this time! Don't choke!

Hoofenmouth repeated this mantra in his head as he walked down the sparsely populated hall of Canterlot High. Sunset Shimmer, in all her leggy, leather-bound splendor, was at her locker, working the combination. Hoof started to tremble a little as he watched her, and his approach became slower with each step. But his heart thundered with need and desire. He couldn't turn back now. This was the day. He'd tried and failed numerous times since coming to Canterlot High (hopefully, she hadn't seen him shrinking away in failure), but this had to be the moment. This had to be the time.

He had to ask Sunset out. Today.

He crept past a janitor's closet door and reached the edge of the row of lockers. Sunset was only six or seven lockers down. She was so close. He could have spoken up at a decent volume and been heard at that distance. But once again, seeing her standing there—her long, bouncy red-and-yellow curls, her delicate hands, her slim, gorgeous legs on full display—made him freeze. He couldn't speak. He couldn't think. Once again, the plan was falling apart.

No! Hoof scolded himself. You can't keep doing this! Not again! You promised you'd get over this fear! You promised you'd find a way to be more confident around girls! You promised you'd stop freaking out over every single hard-on! She may be a smoking-hot girl, but she's a human being! No different from you! She won't hurt you, or lash out, or turn you to stone, or turn into some kind of raging she-demon! She'll either say yes or say no. But she won't say anything if you don't get over there, shake off your fear, and talk to her! Now get up there, Hoofenmouth! Get up there and woo her!

Finally pulling himself out of this rut, Hoofenmouth took a deep breath, adjusted the crotch of his jeans, and took one more step just as a door opened behind him.

“Hi, Sun—mmmph! Mmmph! Mmmmmphh!!”

A hand had closed over his mouth, silencing him. His vision suddenly went dark as more hands grasped him from behind, pulling him backwards. He was helpless and panicked as he heard that same door slam again, this time, trapping him.

Sunset Shimmer glanced to her right, at a janitor's closet door that had just closed not six or seven lockers away. She glanced around the area, but saw no janitors. Or anyone, for that matter. Feeling a strange sense of concern, Sunset hefted her books into her hands, closed and locked her locker, and walked away. She would have to tell her friends about this at lunch today, after her next class.

She also found herself hoping to see that clumsy boy from the other day. Her friends had been telling her about him, especially what he'd supposedly been up to lately, and after seeing him several times at lunch, she couldn't help but want to chat with him at least once, just to quell the tension.

If he didn't start nervously spouting more unintentional innuendos, that is.

Hoofenmouth had struggled and tried once again to scream, but to no avail. His panic had only increased when a bag had fastened itself over his face. What felt like three sets of arms held him down and muffled his shouts as they forced him into a chair and strapped him down with duct tape. His hands were tied behind him and his legs were taped to the legs of the chair. Finally, the bag on his face was lifted, and in the darkness of the room he was in, he just barely saw his kidnappers: a girl in long, straight pigtails and tight jeans; another girl in a ponytail and a miniskirt; and a third in an enormous ponytail and a short-legged unitard and leggings . . .

“It's you!” Hoof blurted out as he got as good a look at the three of them as possible. “Those girls from the other day! What . . . who are you?!”

The blue-haired girl giggled and stepped forward. “I'm Sonata, silly!” she answered, grinning. “And that's Adagio,” she continued, pointing to the girl in leggings, then pointed to the girl in jeans, “and that's Aria!”

“Jeez, Sonata, can you be any more lame?” the girl named Aria spoke brazenly. “Ugh, this is such a stupid idea.”

Hoof glanced from one face to the next, trying to see or hear some clue as to why he was here. Judging from where he was when he was abducted, and the single light illuminating a fraction of the room, he knew he was in the janitor's closet. Why he had been brought here, and who these girls really were, still eluded him.

He summoned up his waning courage and asked, “Why am I here? What do you want with me?!”

The girl named Adagio looked him straight in the eyes, and crept up close to him, a slow swing in her hips that drove Hoof mad with desire. “What do we want?” she repeated with an alluring tone. “Your love. Your adoration. Your obsession.” She bent over and put one hand on his shoulder, the other stroking the side of his face. “We want your lust . . . .” she bent down even further and whispered in his ear, “. . . for us.” Hoof began shaking as he felt her tongue tickle his earlobe.

“Uhh, I thought we wanted our powers back?” Sonata asked, sounding legitimately confused.

Aria scoffed, irritated, “Of course we do. And this is the absolute worst way of getting them back.” She aimed her stinging gaze at the other girl. “And I think you know it, Adagio.”

Adagio pulled herself away from Hoof and rounded on Aria. “Look, you saw the look on his face the other day, when he came out of the bathroom and saw us walking by. The way he looked, the way he breathed, the way he shook—he wants us. Badly. And a lust like that is just strong enough to reignite our lost powers.”

Aria scoffed again, this time rolling her eyes. “And how do you propose that will work without our amulets?”

“We are sirens!” Adagio bit back. “We will make it work!”

“I still think it's a stupid idea.”

“Well, if you have a better one, I'd like to hear it!”

Adagio and Aria continued to bicker in a corner of the closet. Sonata, meanwhile, slipped up next to Hoof and sat down in his lap. She eyed him with an alluring gaze and batted her eyelashes. “You're a cutie,” she said with a feminine lilt in her tone. “Wanna fool around a little?” She raised one hand to Hoof's neck and started caressing it with her fingertips, raising the hair there. Hoof glanced down at Sonata's other hand, and his eyes shot open as it slowly pulled up her skirt. Just before squeezing his eyes shut, he'd caught a glimpse of her electric-pink panties.

“Ooh!” he heard Sonata squeal as he kept his eyes shut. He felt her squirm around on his lap (and his stiffness). “You still have that sock in your pants? Want me to get that out for you?” Hoof then felt her fingers fumble with the button on his jeans, and he began to whine.

“Ease up, Sonata!” Hoof heard Adagio snap, and opened his eyes in time to see Sonata pulled roughly off of his lap. Hoof slowly opened his eyes and saw the two girls face each other. “Remember, I thought of this. So I called first dibs.”

“Well, fine,” Sonata pouted, crossing her arms, “but that sock is gonna get in your way.”

Adagio groaned and massaged her forehead with one hand. “We need to talk.”

As Adagio took Sonata off to one side, Hoof looked up at Aria, who stood closest to him. Still scowling, Aria looked back at Hoof, and the shadow of a malicious smile crept over her face. She uncrossed her arms, lowered one hand to her waist, and gently tugged down on the top of her tight pants. Hoof gasped when he saw the waistband of her dark blue panties, and shut his eyes again. He couldn't see Aria's grin spreading.

“Don't lie to yourself,” Aria's devilish voice infiltrated Hoof's ears, “you know you want it.”

“. . . . why would he put food in his undies?” Sonata asked as Adagio finished explaining to her. “That's, like, totally gross!”

“Not that kind of wiener!” Adagio yelled back, then sighed in exasperation. “I'm never using euphemisms with you again!” She returned to where Aria stood, flashing her panties, and slapped her arm. “Hey, didn't you ever learn to share?”

Aria's scowl returned as she tugged her pants back up. “Gimme a break, Adagio,” she grumbled, “this was your stupid idea, remember?”

“Exactly! Now step off and give me a shot!” Adagio stepped close to Hoof and straddled his lap, sliding up close to him and caressing his shoulders. “Like I said,” she moaned pleasurably, “I get first dibs.”

Hoofenmouth struggled against his bonds, feeling the panic rattle his very bones (and a powerful erection fit to burst through his jeans). “You . . . .” he struggled to keep his voice level, “. . . you're all gonna be in so much trouble . . . .”

“Is that so?” Adagio retorted in a seductive, yet mischievous voice. “Whatcha gonna do about it, big man? You gonna punish us? I'd like that.” She pulled the collar of her shirt down and pressed her cleavage against him, increasing the pressure little by little. “I'd love it if you whipped me . . .”

“Me too!” Sonata chimed in, kneeling on the right side the chair and bringing her hand to the left side of Hoof's face. “I've been a naughty girl. For realzies . . .”

Hoof started to whimper again, and for a split-second, he was awed at how it was possible for his pants to contain his maximum length. His whining grew shrill as he saw and felt a pair of purple hands slide down the front of his shirt from behind. “I'll be doing the whipping around here,” came Aria's voice in Hoof's left ear, “I prefer being on top . . . .”

Feeling so much feminine skin pressing into him from all sides would naturally be a dream come true for any teen boy; for Hoof, it was a pure nightmare. He didn't know these crazy girls or what they really wanted, but he knew he couldn't trust them. Even in his frenzied, hormonally wild state of mind, he knew these three were dangerous somehow. The worst part was that they knew how to push all of his sexual buttons. They seemed to know, innately, what to do at every turn: what to touch, how to rub, how to speak, what to say. It was as if they were designed to be the pinnacle of seduction. He knew he was in danger, but the way Sonata, Adagio and Aria had turned him into putty in their hands, he couldn't move or scream for help, even if he knew it would work.

He suddenly, fearfully realized that he couldn't even if he wanted to. And he didn't.

Adagio sat up from nuzzling Hoof's neck and barked at her two friends, “This should be enough lust to get our strength back. You feel anything yet?”

“Hee-hee! Course I do! I feel that hot dog you talked about earlier—”

“Sonata, you don't get to answer,” said Aria crossly.

Hoof weakly struggled in his seat as he felt their hands touch, pinch and rub him all over. “You . . .” his voice was just as powerless as his body, “. . . you're not even interested in me . . . . ?”

“Of course not!” Adagio answered him brazenly. “This was never about us wanting you! We want you to desire us! We will drive you crazy with passion, make you do whatever we want! And that's just the first step to getting back to where we were before the Battle of the Bands!” She then yelled at Aria and Sonata again, “He's weakening! I think we're sapping him! Can you two feel anything coming?!”

Aria's voice hummed from Hoof's side. “Nope, I don't feel it.”

Sonata added in confusion, “I don't feel it.”

“I do . . .”

Hoof muttered it with a dry mouth, his panting now the only sound in the room. Sonata and Aria backed away as he felt it climax, and he felt an unpleasantly warm sensation in his lap.

And it wasn't because of Adagio sitting in it.

Adagio looked down, saw what had happened, and jumped off of Hoofenmouth's lap, shrieking, “AAAUUGH! Oh, my gosh! What . . . when . . . how much . . . .”

Suddenly, there was a titanic BANG against the closet door. With everyone too shocked to react, no one moved in the three seconds of quiet it took for the sound to repeat. After a third, loud BANG, the door flew open, and the light from the hallway poured in, illuminating half the closet. On the other side stood Coach Bulk Biceps, yelling in celebration; Principal Celestia, hands on her hips and looking highly concerned; and Sunset Shimmer, arms crossed and looking relieved.

“Thank you, Coach Biceps,” the principal said politely, nodding in his direction.

“YEEEEEEEEAAAH!” the coach roared, flexing his obscenely meaty arms.

Principal Celestia walked into the closet, and Sunset followed soon after, setting to work untying Hoof from the chair. “The party's over, girls,” the principal admonished, “you're spent.”

Hoof felt the restraints around his hands loosen, and he started rubbing them. “So am I,” he added under his breath, feeling warm in the face when Sunset went to untie his legs and did a double-take at his lap.

And the large wet patch running down the inside of his leg.

Alone in a restroom, Hoofenmouth rubbed and scrubbed the denim under the hot tap. He felt his bare legs shiver as he rubbed and squeezed and rung out his pants, taking over half an hour to do it. Using the hand dryer on them took even longer, what with the patting and shaking and constant restarting of the machine that accompanied it. Finally, after an hour and a half altogether, his pants looked inconspicuously spotless, but still vaguely damp and warm to the touch as he put them back on. He could swear they felt slightly tighter this time around.

Walking out of the bathroom, he caught a sight in the corner of his eye, and saw Sunset Shimmer walk up to the door of the bathroom, pulling a piece of paper from it that seemed to have been taped there. She walked toward him—Hoof looked down to avoid staring at her flawless legs—and held up the piece of paper; one quick glance, and Hoof saw that it was a loose-leaf sheet with the words “OUT OF ORDER” printed on it.

“I figured you could use the privacy,” she explained with a smile as she put the paper into his hand. “Looks like you've cleaned yourself up really well.”

Hoof kept his head low and turned to one side. “Th-thanks,” he stammered, maintaining control over his words (which so far, he thanked providence for). “Where are they? Th-those crazy girls who . . . you know . . .”

“The Dazzlings?” Sunset asked. “Principal Celestia kicked them out.” She reached out a hand to his shoulder. “Don't worry. They won't bother you anymore.”

Hoof felt his legs shake beneath him, and suddenly, his blow-dried pants weren't the only things giving him a warm feeling down below. “How . . .” he began shakily, still consciously and carefully choosing his words, “. . . how did you know where to find me?”

“Well, I'd heard a weird noise coming from the janitor's closet earlier today. Then, when I didn't see you at lunch, I got worried. So I talked to the principal, told her about the closet door, and we came looking for you.”

While Hoof was grateful, one thing she said puzzled him a bit. “Wait. 'Didn't see me at lunch'? What do you mean?” he asked, looking up slightly (when his eyes found her breasts, they shot back down to the floor).

“You mean you don't know?” Sunset replied with a light giggle. “I've seen you at lunch every day since you got here. You're always a few tables away, always glancing over at me, always looking nervous. And once or twice every ten minutes, you'd get up, like you want to come over and talk to me, but you sit back down and start blushing. It's a little uncomfortable, but . . .” Sunset began to go red-faced herself, “. . . it's actually kind of cute, too . . .”

Hoof was dumbstruck. His eyes widened, but he did not look up, and he felt his legs shake a bit more. He didn't even bother to try and speak anymore—after what he'd just heard and how it made him feel, he knew for a fact he'd say something stupid.

Sunset giggled again and gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder. “You know,” she told him matter-of-factly, “if you wanted to ask me out, that's not the way to go about it, buddy.”

Finally, after resisting the urge from the start, Hoofenmouth looked up and stared Sunset full in the face. “Wha- . . . h-how did . . . how did you know . . .”

“Hey, you know where my eyes are!” she joked. “That's a great start!” She gave him another tap on the shoulder, this one harder and more playful, before continuing, “Don't you remember? Pinkie Pie pointed it out the other day.”

At this, Hoof nodded, and his head sank back down in shame. “I'm sorry,” he muttered miserably, “you're right. I'm a total creep. I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable . . .”

“Hey, come on,” Sunset said brightly, this time laying her hand gently on his shoulder, “I never said you were a creep. A little clumsy, sure, but you're decent enough. Listen, I know you have problems talking to girls. But I know you can work it out. After all, you've gotten this far, right?”

Gradually, Hoof began to realize she was right. He had gone all this time without stumbling over his words, spouting out suggestive phrases unintentionally, or generally making an ass of himself. True, they'd only been talking for five minutes, but it was something. And with his poor track record, it was something major for him.

The last bell of the day rang, and Sunset glanced behind her, about to leave. “Look, I gotta go. But keep trying, Hoof, okay? When you're ready, I'll be there.” She then stepped up close to him, kissed him on the cheek, then turned to leave. “See you later, buddy.” She then walked down the hall and into a crowd of students exiting classrooms. Hoof noticed an especially pronounced swing in her hips as she walked away.

Hoofenmouth stood in the middle of the crowded hall, his mind blank and his body feeling lighter than air. His earlier harrowing situation and subsequent embarrassment evaporated from his thoughts. All there was, was the feeling of Sunset's lips against his cheek, which he still felt long after she'd left, and the sight of her delicious sashay as she walked away. There was nothing else. Not even the stupefied look on his face that prompted glances from passersby. Not even the brushes and shoves he'd gotten from other students, one of which even shouted, “Out of the way, doofus!” There was only that kiss, and that walk.

Hoof glanced down to see that he still had Sunset's “OUT OF ORDER” sign in his hand, and quickly walked back to the bathroom door he'd just left, before anyone else could reach it. He had a few extra minutes before his bus would arrive, and he was determined, for once, to enjoy the sudden rush of sensuality that had overcome him. And if he was late for his bus, hang it all; he could walk home just this once, or call for a ride. He pressed the paper back against the door and walked through it, his head now full of nothing but that tender kiss and that saucy swish in Sunset Shimmer's hips.

And he would think of nothing else for at least ten minutes. At least . . .