Honestly, life in Equestria isn't terrible. Not all the time anyway. You get your typical three-square meals. You have a nice house, with air conditioning, your own bed, a toilet. Which, in all honesty kinda sounds like a prison, but you get to go outside whenever you want, and you won't be shanked. Except, just like prison, there's one thing you have to constantly worry about. Good ol' Flutterrape.

You sit on your couch, flipping through the channels, sighing to yourself. Honestly, what you probably miss most from Earth? The animals. Not, like, the fish, tigers, bears, or things that can kill you silently in the night without you even knowing. More the household pets like cats and dogs.

They sort of exist here, but there's a huge asterisk around what is technically allowed to talk and what can't in this world. For example: Cows? Talk. Cats? Don't Talk. Donkeys? Talk. Dogs? Fuckin. It depends.

Man's Best Friend alternates from being a completely sentient race that's obsessed with gems or a household pet that is just like a normal dog. Like, what the hell are the implications on that? Did these ponies take these Diamond Dogs into an internment camp or some fucked up shit and then regress them into dogs? Or- knock at the door distracts you from a perfectly logical line of questioning that probably has no business in a world of colorful, happy, pastel horses.

Great, it must be Fluttershy. Time to go through this shit again. You head to the door, pause, take a deep breath, and then open it wide. Fluttershy stands on the other side, her pink mane shyly covering one eye, but she's altered her appearance today.

She wears a set of yellow cat-ears that cap her horse ears and has drawn a set of whiskers on her face. She has a little green collar around her neck that goes into one long red leash that she holds out with a hoof.

"U-uhm. Is pet play your fetish, Anon?" she asks quietly.

You pause staring at her. You fold your arms.

"Fluttershy, this isn't pet play," you correct her.

She tilts her head nervously, quivering in place.

"I-It isn't?" she asks.

"No. Pet play isn't just putting on some kitty ears and saying 'Nya!' or 'Mewing' everywhere. Pet play is a serious state of mind where someone-"

"Somepony..."

"Shut up. They actually begin to have the personality and acting characteristics of the animal they identify as. It's a whole state of mind. Otherwise, it's basically just yiffing."

"I-is Yiffing your fetish?" she asks.

"Fuckin. NO!"

"T-then is actual pet play your fetish?" she asks.

She sits on the ground, dropping the leash. She holds up one of her hooves and begins to lick it like a kitty cat. You cant help but look down with a smile at the little yellow pony, acting all cute in shit.

'Ain't that cute. But it's wrong...' you think to yourself.

Then, she pauses, staring straight forward at your pant leg.

"Uh," you say to her. "You okay Fluttershy?"

Then she makes a low gurgling noise from the center of her throat. Her body shakes and shudders with each gurgle. The motion slowly builds up speed and intensity as she seems to vibrate in place, hunched over.

"Are... are you okay-"

But the words no more than exit your mouth as her mouth opens and a huge bile-y wad of pink/yellow hair, mixed with brown stomach acid projects from her lips onto your pants, floor and welcome mat.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!" you scream.

"I-is pet play your-"

"FUCKING NO!"

You slam the door in her face and look down at your ruined pants. Jesus Christ. See, this shit is why you hate cats.

You might as well go adopt a fuckin... weird... dog... sex slave thing. Whatever it is.

...

On second thought, maybe you can live without pets.