I saw Pearl unlocking the front door to the café from a block away. I wave, making her look up and wave back. I’m smiling like a moron, though there’s still an uneasiness in my backdoor. It feels as though tiny insects are hatching inside me, while my anus is doing a poor job of closing off the outside world. Well, that’s a little dark, I suppose. It doesn’t feel bad, just uncomfortable. I’m still semi-consciously clenching over and over at the emptiness.

When we get inside I tell Pearl about the feeling, starting off with how I started off, then skipping right to the part about how I feel now.

“Oh, that’s right,” she snaps.

“What…?” I’m a little worried, like she forgot to tell me something crucial.

“I just had the feeling we forgot something, at the store,” she explains. “Just, another little toy. A plug, if you will.” We leave our belongings in the kitchen, greeting Gourdy as he bakes. Back in the front, “It’s not entirely necessary, but it’s a good idea to use if you’re not going to take it easy the rest of the day afterward.”

I’m a little confused. “What do you mean? I don’t…”

“After having the… the dildo inside of you, and I assume you came while penetrated—“

“Came?” I question. I had not heard the word before in this context. At least, not that I could remember.

She makes a face like she’s getting a little impatient. “Yes, came. Cum. It’s just a… slang term for orgasm. Or… semen, sometimes. Anyway, you came with it inside you and all the muscles clenched. I won’t ask how deep you were, but basically if you didn’t lie down and fall asleep to let your body reconfigure, uhh… I think, your prostate like, yearns for it or something. Anyway, the plug keeps your body… stable I guess, while also keeping your hole closed comfortably.”

I laugh awkwardly while she ties my apron for me. “You know I want to ask how you know that.”

I sense her eye-roll. “Whatever. I took an anatomy class in college, and my roommate told me the rest. I basically know everything about your body that you don’t.”

“And the weird facts about the toys?” I question her skeptically.

“I told you, my roommate.” She lets out an awkward chortle and moves back to the front of the store. “One of them anyway. The fun one.”

A few things pop into my mind when she says “fun,” making me think about just how “fun” that roommate was. I shake my head, laughing, forcing the thoughts away. Pearl wasn’t like that.

I’m restocking sugar packets when Patches and Stiches come in. I lock eyes with Pearl. She gives me an inquisitive look. I shake my head; I don’t want to talk about my recent practice with them quite yet. I hope beyond reason that they didn’t see the exchange.

At the very least, they don’t bring it up. I’m grateful that the day can move along like normal. Patches makes up gossip about school until dishes start piling up. Stitches and I mostly just listen, occasionally giving each other knowing looks when something one of them says contradicts something said previously.

About an hour into the day business starts to rush. I’m keeping up with orders but I can’t chat with my friends anymore. I make small talk with the customers, most of them are pretty nice. Some just need their coffee.

At some point I notice I’m sulking. Somehow monotony has poisoned my thoughts and I chastise myself, though unwillingly. I try to distract myself, but stop myself from thinking about last night. Or, this morning? My time before work, earlier. I don’t want to accidentally arouse myself while on duty.

Traffic has died down slightly and the sun’s starting to show. There are only a few patrons still waiting for breakfast when a new group comes in, laughing boorishly. They’re all drunk, I can tell. Why would anypony be this drunk on a Monday morning?

Pearl groans beside me. It’s been a while since we’ve had trouble like this, but I know she doesn’t like how friendly drunk stallions tend to get with her. I offer to take them off her hooves.

I introduce myself and offer to take orders. The first one yells at me, “Hey where’s the pretty one?”

I’m stunned and don’t respond. The next one chimes in, “Well this kid’s kinda cute. *hiccup*”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” the first one agrees. “Hey how old are you?”

I smile politely, “That’s, not important. Can I get you something to drink?”

The third one finally speaks up, “Coffee, black. All around.”

The other two are laughing their heads off for some reason. I smile at the last one, clearly the most sober.

I turn and head for the bar to brew a fresh pot. The first stallion shouts after me, “Where you going gorgeous?”

I ignore the compliment and make my way behind the counter where Pearl is picking up an order. “I can see why you don’t care for benders, this behavior is incorrigible.”

“If you can’t handle it I can take over,” she offers.

I watch the pot steam with fresh coffee, breathing in the coarse scent. I didn’t like the taste of coffee at all, but I would always love the smell. “That’s fine,” I respond. “They can’t really do anything bad to me.” She smiles and takes her tray away. I wait a few more seconds for the pot to fill, then pour the three drinks. I carry my own tray to the table of drunks. Another group walks in, younger and definitely not drunk. Pearl’s still handling her own small crowd, so I decide to make my way over the first chance I get. “Anything else I can get you this morning?” Sometimes I really hated how I sounded when I tried to be polite.

The first guy speaks up instantly, “Yeah I’d like to see what specials aren’t on the menu.” He makes a look that I assume was meant to be flirtatious.

(You haven’t even seen the menu.) “Everything we have to offer is on the menu. Would you like a copy?” Copy? What were they novels? I guess they were all copies of an original. It just sounds weird.

The third friend comes in before either of the others. “We’re fine for now, thanks.” He’s talking quietly, like he’s getting a headache. My head starts aching sympathetically.

I smile and move past them to the new arrivals. The group of four order a specialized coffee each and ask for menus. I pass out the booklets and tell them I’ll be right back with their drinks. While I move past the party table, one of the stallions tugs on my tail. I almost yelp, but contain it. Instead I just gasp and glare at the barbarous patrons while they laugh some more. The one is apologizing profusely with his eyes. I sigh and continue toward the front. Or, back I guess? The opposite end of the café from the entrance, with the register and barista station.

Pearl makes it back just after me and places another order for Gourdy. I prepare four more mugs and fill them with the specially ordered drinks. Balancing them on my back try I move to return to the barnyard. Pearl catches me just before I go, “You sure you can handle those guys?”

I’m happy that she cares, but I don’t want her to worry. “I’m fine, really.” At the very least they’re a break from the depressing melancholy that was looming overhead previously. “They’re just here for some coffee. I’ll give them some time, go back in a few minutes and have them pay up.” I doubt they’d leave much of a tip. Then again, that one guy seemed pretty responsible.

I take the tray of coffee mugs to the young group. I imagine they’re college students or the like, taking some time out after an all-nighter. Pearl told me she used to do that with some pals during college. I envy the feeling, completely neglecting the fact that my friends and I do basically the same thing a lot anyway.

I take the students’ orders and make my way back again, this time with no reaction from the party table. They’re still being loud, but keeping it to themselves now, mostly. I can tell some other clientele are unhappy with the noise. Clientele? That’s not a good word. Whatever. I place my order, Pearl takes a coffee pot to refill one of her customers. I put another one on without thinking.

Why have I fallen into this stasis? My day was going beautifully before, but out of nowhere I feel like I’m in a rut. There’s a gloom in my head that I can’t explain, making me angry at myself. I suddenly think about what I did this morning. It must be that. I was feeling guilty because I rushed into it, not really thinking about my future. What future? I mean, why would I feel guilty for doing something that was more or less completely necessary? What if it wasn’t necessary?

I can’t tell where the thoughts are coming from; whether they’re me, Aura, or something entirely new. But what else could they be? What else is there?

I receive the order I don’t entirely remember placing. I carried the breakfast platter to the college table, missing another barrage of “compliments” from the fun club. Muscle memory fills in the lines, reacting to the strangers with bizarre charm. Once it’s established nothing else is needed I turn around once again. My mind is still killing itself for no reason, trying to find a reason.

I feel a pressure on my back and panic. It’s warm, confining. I inhale sharply as visions flash back to that night in the park, just after my birthday party. My life was nearly ruined by the actions of that stranger. Was this guy seriously doing this? Did he really mount me?

Gripped with fear I lower my head and shrug my shoulders, sliding out from the unwelcomed embrace. There was noise, I think. Ponies were shouting, laughing. Where was Pearl? Where was I?

A hoof tried to contain me, but my back leg reacts. I don’t know what part of me knew to do that, but my hoof was up between his hind legs before I exhaled. The stallion crumples and falls off of me. I turn to face the foolish attacker when his friend has a go at me. He seems offended, like I had no right…

I threw my head into his nose. I felt a sickening yet satisfying crunch under my crown as cartilage crumples and teeth crash together. His head flies back from the pain, I finish him off with a measly shove. He trips over his pal, landing on top, writhing in pain. They both convulse.

I watch them, mortified. What came over me? What were they thinking? What should I do now? Was the other guy angry at me, or them? Should I apologize? Should I try to fix things?

I bump into a chair before I realize I was backing away. My anus clenches, I wince, expecting pain. Why?

I look around. Ponies are in a frenzy. Pearl’s trying to get my attention, the customers are complaining. The bleeding drunk has gotten up from the floor and is spitting at me. Stitches comes running and helps the other stallion hold his injured friend at bay while I back into a wall and start crying.