“I still can't believe you bit the doctor,” the newcomer mutters, shaking her head. As she does so, her dark-blue and pink curls sway tantalizingly in front of me. There's something in those blue eyes of hers that begs me to pay attention to her. “What were you thinking?”

“I'm sorry, Bon-Bon,” I apologize. “I thought he was calling my existence in Lyra's head some sort of tumor, but I'm not a tumor! I'm not!”

“Normal ponies don't spaz out and bite other ponies!” the human girl, Lyra—the one I apparently wanted to strangle—snorts in derision. “Besides, after you stopped biting him, he explained what he meant, didn't he?”

After I had stopped screaming and biting, and Lyra had wrestled me back onto the bed, the good doctor was kind enough to explain himself. The growth, as Twilight explained to him, is a node grown as a side effect of the body swapping spell. It had been intended as a sort of biological limiter to prevent the parties involved in the swap from intentionally bringing harm to the others body. Unfortunately, the accidental trauma that lead to the activation of the memory back-up set into motion not just the body's attack on his mind, but an attack on the node itself.

That incident, the doctor had explained, lead to the inability to properly protect the body, causing my first psychotic episode. I'm not sure if that would have allowed me to actually fight against the memory imprint, but it feels reasonable to link the two. Speaking of that episode, it's still something I need to discuss with Lyra. It's her body after all, and I may very well have damaged it.

“Yeah, fine,” I grunt, waving a hoof dismissively. “Don't expect me to go begging for his forgiveness. His lack of tact got him that bite. If Twilight told him about my psychotic episode, then he should have expected me to be unstable.”

Lyra gives me a serious look now. “About that...” She doesn't seem angry, strangely enough. “Twilight told me a bit about of what you told her. You said that you think you murdered my memory imprint?”

A lump rises in my throat, which I quickly attempt to swallow. “Yeah.”

“That's preposterous,” Lyra says flatly. To my utter disbelief, she even laughs. “It takes powerful magic to even damage a unicorn's biomagical memory backup, or so I read after our first conversation...” She holds her hands in front of her, palms up and shrugs. Oh how I miss being able to do that without falling over. “I'm not sure if you know this, but I'm not exactly the most talented or even powerful unicorn around. With my power, and your lack of skill, the most you could do is scramble it.”

That can’t be right. Surely what she’s saying can’t be true. If it were true, what did I attack then? Is it like she says and I simply scrambled the process? I mean, I can kind of see how that would make sense with the memory gaps and my dwindling human memories, but doesn’t that mean that I’m becoming her? Ugh... This is making my head fucking hurt even more than it already is. At this rate, I’m just going to think myself to death.

Rubbing the side of my head with a hoof, I turn my attention back to Bon-Bon. “I suppose it’s selfish of me to focus on myself—even if I am suffering personality degradation. You’ve been affected by all this as well.” I offer up a plaintive smile. “How have you been coping in all of this?” I ask, making my tone clear that I’m addressing Bon-Bon and not Lyra. Following it up with a glare ensures that she’s going to keep quiet for at least a bit.

To my surprise, the cream mare seems taken aback my my inquiry. I wonder, does nopony think to ask her how Lyra’s shenanigans affect her? Bon-Bon stops to think for a few moments before smiling softly. “It’s been... trying,” she says softly, blushing. “I’ll be the first to admit that it hasn’t been the easiest coping with my love’s eccentricities on a normal day. It’s bad enough with the strange nightmare night decorations and costumes, her obsession with hands, and all that sort, but color me surprised when I come home and find this hairy, hulking thing sitting in my living-room—no offense.”

“None taken.”

“It was quite a shock, let me tell you,” she continues. “I just about had a heart attack when she waved at me and grinned. Somehow, in spite of my fear, I knew it was her. I’ll still never understand why she settled on a male host, but she was a bit too casual about it all.”

“I can imagine...” I groan. “I heard about the party.”

“I’ll say. I was mortified when she tried to ‘put the moves’ on poor Octavia.” Bon-Bon’s face took on a decidedly green hue as she sat back on her haunches to pantomime hoof quotes. “Octavia has enough troubles fighting off the advances of her DJ roommate—”

“Vinyl?” I offer, curious. I’m still curious about where the fandom is hitting and missing with things.

“That’s the pony.” She smiles softly. Why do I find that smile so enticing? “Lyra’s lucky Octavia isn’t looking to for recompense... otherwise she’d be in the stockade for the next month. It’s bad enough that the Guard found out and wanted to sterilize her, but if she were in the stocks...” she says anxiously, pausing to glance at the clock. “Oh my, is that the time? I really must get back to the shop. I can’t take an entire afternoon off. One of us has to pay the rent.” She glances accusingly at Lyra. “It was nice meeting you, Soren. I guess I’ll be seeing you later. Buh-bye!”

I stare at the mare dumbfounded as she sprints out the doorway. “Later?” I manage to utter weakly.

“About that...” Lyra lets out an anxious titter. “Bon-Bon decided that because of what I put you through, I’m responsible for taking care of you while you’re here. As such, you’ll be staying with us.”

I gaze back towards the door, appreciatively. “That’s so thoughtful of her,” I simper. “You’re lucky to have such a thoughtful partner, Lyra.”

“Hey, none of that!” Lyra says, jumping to her feet and snapping her fingers in my face. I wonder if she didn’t have to practice all day for that. “I know that look, and if you try anything funny with my Bon-Bon, I’ll—I’ll—I don’t know what, but it won’t be nice!”

What? She thinks I’m going to make a move on Bon-Bon? I personally only met her fifteen minutes ago! I’m not some fuckin’ sleazeball that constantly hits on women! “Yeah, because clearly anything a man says or does is in the pursuit of pussy, Lyra!” I snap back. “I’ll have you know that I didn’t even much care for Bon-Bon until I met her in person! The show didn’t give her much of a personality, and I never much had interest in her in the fandom.

“Even if I do harbor romantic feelings towards her now—which I don’t—guess what!” I growl, spittle spraying across my lips. “Anything I feel for her is a result of your memories! Choke on that!”

I didn’t think my human body’s normally rosy cheeks could ever rival the redness of a baboon’s arse, but hey, the world is full of surprises theses days, ain’t it? If I wasn’t worried about her bursting capillaries in my eyes, I might find Lyra’s redness almost comedic. After sputtering for a few moments, all she can manage is “You’re impossible!”

“Yeah fine.” I roll over on the bed. “Listen, I’m going to take a nap—see if I can’t get rid of this headache. Wake me if I get a visitor, or if they’re ready to discharge me.”

I’m starting to think that sleep is working against me these days. Dreams of being in estrus, and black-out psychotic episodes where I theoretically kill some part of me—what that is, I have no idea if it even has any real implications—aren’t conducive to a sane mind on the best of circumstances. The whole memory overwrite bit doesn’t help in the least. Wouldn’t you know it, of course, that I find myself living another memory that can only be described with an underwhelming term such as uncomfortable.

As soon as I’m even in the dream state, I was overwhelmed by three glaring things. Firstly, Lyra’s very clearly in estrus again. It’s that same yearning itch, only worse; instead of just being warm, there’s a fire beneath my belly, where I know Lyra’s marehood to be. Reinforcing that is the presence of that vaguely familiar musk heavy in the air.

Secondly, I’m absolutely certain that I’m not alone. Sprawled out on my back, thrashing my head against the pillows, I can feel something very large and firm nestled firmly between my thighs. It’s definitely not a penis though. If I didn’t know any better—and I really don’t—since Lyra has her eyes screwed shut, I’d guess that it was Bon-Bon’s head.

Finally, the sensations I’m experiencing through Lyra are too much for me to even comprehend. My mind is still geared up for male plumbing, after all. This is all just... incredible and otherwise indescribable. Even as much as I can imagine what my partner is doing, in reality I have no idea other than the fact that it feels so awesome, if you’ll excuse the Dashism. It’s quite plain that Lyra is enjoying every single moment of this; she keeps letting out these adorable whinnies and whimpers.

No! I shouldn’t be intruding on this! This is a private memory, and as curious as I am to whether or not they’re going to start tribbing, I have no right to experience this! All I need to do is distract myself. There’s got to be something I can think about to take my mind off Lyra’s coital adventures... There should be at any rate. There just isn’t. Surprise, surprise, right?

To my utter amazement and relief, these otherworldly sensations begin to abate, in spite of the ministrations of Lyra’s partner. If anything, the pleasure has been replaced by a chill of shock and embarassment. It takes a full moment for me to figure out why. Lyra’s eyes are open now, and directed right out towards the window. Staring back through the window with varied expressions are three very familiar fillies. The earth pony Apple Bloom, the pegasus Scootaloo, and the unicorn Sweetie Belle—all three of the Cutie Mark Crusaders are staring through Lyra’s window at the scene unfolding on the bed.

“Bon-Bon!” Lyra calls out. “Bon-Bon, don’t! We need to stop, now!”

Sure enough, Bon-Bon’s face rises up from Lyra’s—my—nethers to look Lyra in the eyes. Her expression is nothing if not predatory, and she looks rather displeased at being stopped. “Lyra, I thought we talked about using the rest-room before having fun.” she whispers dryly. God, that’s not right considering how... damp her muzzle is. “Watersports just isn’t my—”

Bon-Bon realizes that Lyra’s not looking at her, but past her, and turns to follow her lover’s gaze. When she finally locks gazes with the three fillies, there’s a moment of silence before Bon-Bon shrieks in embarrassment. Whatever stupor held the Cutie Mark Voyeurs is broken by Bon-Bon’s shrill. In an instant the three heads duck out of sight and a trio of retreating hoof-beats can be heard outside the window.

“Well! That just ruins the mood, doesn’t it?” the cream pony groans. Odd, by the way she’s speaking, I’d swear she’s the dominant one in the relationship. Then again, I’m judging my preconceptions of Bon-Bon based on what little screen-time she gets. A moment of ‘I didn’t put those in my bag’ and a few other speaking roles is hardly enough to go by. Returning her attention to Lyra, her eyes soften as she says, “Oh love, I’m sorry. I know how badly your estrus bothers you. I just wanted to offer you some momentary relief and now that chance is ruined, isn’t it?”

Lyra glances all around, her cheeks burning and soaked with sweat. Finally, she grabs a pillow and tries to hide behind it. “Yeah, I guess it is, isn’t it?” she replies sheepishly from behind her pillow. “Dear Celestia, I’m so embarrassed. I could just die...”

I have to tell you... I didn’t expect to hear the pony who acted like she was some kind of sexual dynamo while she was in my body to be this shy little thing behind closed doors. Is this some kind of weird submission/dominance thing I don’t fully understand? Do I even want to understand? God... being trapped in somepony’s body as a tag-along in their memories makes things really weird, especially during awkward silences.

“We should go to their families!” Bon-Bon mutters, toweling her face dry. “Those fillies need correction before they get themselves into things they don’t understand. The last thing I want is to be blamed for them becoming voyeurs.”

A smile begins to stretch across Lyra’s face behind her pillow shield. “Don’t give them too hard of a time, Bonnie...” Oh god... Not pillow talk and pet names! “They’re just trying to discover who they are... I was like that once.”

If I could turn and stare, I would. Thankfully, Bon-Bon has the stare part down for me. “WHAT?” she yelps, echoing my sentiment.

“Well, I wasn’t a voyeur... I just remember a time when I was unsure of who I was. There were times when I tried desperately just to figure out what direction my life was going to take,” Lyra replies, pulling the pillow away from her face. “Those three are just trying to figure out what their lot in life is. Sure, peeping isn’t the best way to earn a cutie mark, and is bound to expose them to things they’re too young for, but that’s the risk of being young and unmarked.”

Bon-Bon doesn’t seem too convinced. “That’s all well and good if we were on the first floor.” Oh for fuck sake. Did those three have a ladder? “It’s hardly an accident when they’re peering through a second story window. Honestly, I don’t know how their families cope.” Bon-Bon, you’re a confectioner. What you just said amounts to ‘I hate children’ in my language.

Lyra returns her eyes to the ceiling, choosing to remain silent as Bon-Bon nestles herself down against Lyra, draping one arm—foreleg?—over her. Without so much as a noise, Lyra rolls over, offering her back to her lover. Her smiles is gone, and her lids are heavy, but still she expends some energy to draw a blanket over the spooning couple and extinguish the lights.

Nuzzling the pillow, still gripped firmly between her hooves against her chest, Lyra whispers, “I want foals one day, Bonnie...” The only response her whispered admission is the restful breathing of her partner. “Even more than humans...” she mumbles into her pillow before joining her love in slumber. “... a daughter.”

Author's Notes:

Re-edited 11 July 2017