Wow, Lyra's pretty strong. She leans down and picks me up with almost no problem whatsoever, even though I'm like a third her size and weight. What's more, she's cradling me in her arms like a cat... or a baby. Is this what people mean by beer muscles? Feh, who cares? The warmth of her body is too nice for that to matter.

Resting my head against Lyra's shoulder, I take one last look around. Everypony but Bon-Bon and Pinkie has all gathered by the door, preparing to leave. They're all giving me varying levels of odd looks, and I can't help but giggle. Do I really look that silly?

Finally, Lyra begins carrying me from the living room and up the stairs. I kinda want to stay and party some more, but Lyra probably knows better than I do right now. She's been so helpful today! Surely she'd want me to say goodbye to all of our friends. Right?

Twisting and writhing in her grip, my head pops over her shoulder. I can just barely wave a hoof at everypony at the foot—hoof?—of the stairs. “Buh-bye everypony!” I squeal giddily. My mouth is easily getting ahead of my brain, so I can't help but breaking into hysterics after shouting, “Enjoy your new penises!”

With an amused snort, Lyra adjusts her hold on me by placing a hand on my arse. A shiver of excitement and arousal races up my back as her hand momentarily presses my tail flat against my vulva. Whoa, there's a strange but oddly welcome concept—my vulva! I don't know whether it's the arousal or the sensation, but I find my hips shifting against her, futilely hoping to experience the sensation again.

“Stop squirming so much, or you'll fall down the stairs!” she scolds me, unable to withhold a giggle.

“Been there, done that...” I nicker, playfully bumping my head against her chin. Wow, even a chin is enough to make my ears feel nice. It's certainly enough to cause certain unfamiliar muscles in my nethers to clench and release. Did I just... “Got a... uh... something or other!” I mumble distractedly.

“Jeeze. I know you're drunk and in heat, but what's gotten into you?” She's shaking her head, but there's still that silly smile on her face. Finally, we've reached the top of the stairs. Is she really going to make me go to bed? There's still fun to be had, I know it.

“Nothing, yet,” I whisper softly.

I lean in close to her face again, and then give her the most gentle of licks on the tip of her nose. Her cheeks go a silvery scarlet, and I can hear her swallow almost unconsciously. As she carries me down the hall, however, I notice that she isn't lugging me to the guest room, but to her and Bon-Bon's room instead.

After being gently dropped onto the bed, I look up at Lyra. “What are we gonna do on your bed, Lyra?” I ask, batting my eyes innocently.

“You're obviously a bit silly right now, so it'll be easier to make sure you don't wander off if you bunk with us tonight,” she answers dismissively. Her mouth says no, but I can tell that she's having other thoughts. “That's all.”

Again, I bat my eyes—flirtatiously this time. “Surely that isn't all we can do on a bed.” I giggle a bit too happily. What am I even doing? I guess I'm just doing what feels right in the situation... or maybe it's the booze?

Lyra looks away from me quickly, but nonetheless sits down on the edge of the bed. Oh yeah, she got the hint. It takes a bit of effort, but I manage to stagger drunkenly close enough to the edge of the bed to rub my head against her ribs. “C'mon, if I'm in your body and we just get a little frisky...” My voice silky in her ear, or so I hope. “It wouldn't be cheating! Just think of it as...” I soften my voice to a bare whisper as I lick my lips. “Clopping.”

Well, that must have flipped a switch inside her head. Without another word she rounds on me, flipping me onto my back in the center of the bed. As she removes her dress and bra in one fell swoop, she gives me a wry look. “You certainly are a naughty little unicorn, aren't you?” Her tone is pure, sensual mockery. “I'll show you what we do to naughty unicorns in this house.”

I'm not listening to a word she says; my focus is completely fixed on her silvery breasts swaying like two ripe pears as she makes her way across the bed covers. As engorged as her nipples are, they still manage to look like a silver dollar. Oh how I would love to just latch onto one of them and suckle away like a newfoal.

Holy shit, this is really happening! I'm going to get laid by a female incarnation of my own body! Almost subconsciously, I find my forehooves drawing up against my chest, and again those muscles inside me clench and release. Yeah, my vagina's definitely winking. My body's natural lubricant and excitement is flowing freely onto my tail and the bedding, and nothing's even happened yet.

As Lyra draws up beside me, she presses a fingertip against the base of my tail. I gasp as she gently draws the nail along length of my body, avoiding my pleading folds. Instead, she traces her fingernail up along my thigh, teasingly avoiding my nethers before trailing her touch up between my teats. “Come on; don't tease!” I moan, and look at her with half-lidded eyes.

Grinning, she pulls back hand and instead runs it along her own body. “Uh-uh, that's not how it works.” she chides, waving a finger in front of my eyes. “You've been naughty, so you don't get to be in control.”

There's a momentary glint of cruelty in her eyes. Reaching out once more with her right hand, she wraps her index finger and thumb around the base of my horn. If having my horn filed was a ticklish sensation, having a warm ring of fingers around the base of my horn is a whole other kettle of oats. I can't help but flinch at the strange but pleasurable sensation of her touch. It sends shivers down my spine if she moves her hand even in the slightest.

She lets out a chuckle as she strokes my horn up and down, slowly drawing the ring upward before quickly thrusting it back down. Each time she does so, I can't help but squeal and moan, and I get wetter and wetter each time. Each time the horn begins to throb against my head, she stops and rubs the tip with her index finger. I realize now that the sensations in my horn are intensely similar to my own experiences nearing orgasm when I was a guy, and that she's purposely denying me release.

“Nnngh... Lyra, don't be mean,” I moan haughtily, turning my head toward her. It's all I can say before my tongue lolls uselessly from my mouth.

Smiling, she shuffles closer to my vulnerable form and presses her lips against mine. Her tongue begins probing my open mouth for only a moment. Then she begins trailing kisses up my muzzle and face. As soon as her lips peck at the base of my horn, I can't help but begin panting and moaning. The wet warmth of her lips is an entirely new experience.

A single lick from base to tip is all it takes to send me over the edge. My mind goes blank as intense pleasure begins radiating out from my horn and I cry out. It doesn't stop with the face-melting pleasure, though. A tingling sensation begins radiating up the length of my horn, as though I were casting some spell concentrated at the tip of my horn, and then pop!

I lay there in the dampest spot on the bed, absolutely unthinking for the better part of a few moments. When enough of my senses return, I roll over and begin nuzzling into Lyra's chest. Oh those lovely lovely breasts. Taking one of her nipples into my mouth, I begin to suckle happily. That was absolutely incredible. “Wow... that felt amazing, and you didn't even touch me down there.”

“It must have,” a male voice says in a deadpan tone. “I've never seen that much concentrated magic erupt from her horn in all the times we've made love. You've absolutely coated her face.”

Panicked, I look to the door. Standing awestruck in the doorway is a very perturbed looking, very male Bon-Bon. My stomach clenches not in fear or anxiety, but in arousal. Do... I really feel turned on from being caught in a drunken tryst with her lover?

I look back to Lyra, only to see her face absolutely gleaming in a translucent glittering amber fluid. Surprisingly, she doesn't look at all worried. If anything, she looks perversely thoughtful. With her free hand, she presses my head back into her cleavage.

“Lyra!” Bon-Bon shouts, stomping her hooves. “What's the meaning of this?”

From between her breasts, I see Lyra smile playfully. “Aww, c'mon Bonny! We always talked about having a threesome one day. Now's our chance!” She runs her hand down my back and flank, eliciting a shiver and causing my tail to flick away from my marehood. “Besides, in the state he's in, he might just wander off and do something silly. He's pretty consenting right now...”

“Heartstrings, he's drunk and in heat!” Bon-Bon complains. When I turn my head slightly, I see that Bon-Bon is hardly being convincing in her argument—not with that erection hanging proudly beneath her belly! Again my vagina winks. God, is this really happening? “If anything is going to happen, I wanna hear it from him, and then I want you to promise that you'll take responsibility for anything that happens tonight.”

My heart is beating wildly in my chest. Am I really considering this? I mean, I've always considered myself heterosexual—maybe a bit bi-curious—even given my skewed gender identity. Would I really be willing to engage sexually with a stallion—even one who used to be a mare? Yes... I realize numbly. The alcohol and my body are telling me that if it means feeling good, I'd gladly do anything right now. I'm rather obliged to agree at this point. Let it be future Soren's problem!

I give Lyra a questioning look. “You have my permission,” she whispers, giving me a rub of the ear.

Turning to regard Bon-Bon, I struggle into an upright position. Giving my best shot at bedroom eyes, I plead, “I've been a naughty, naughty filly.” Hearing my own voice, I feel my nethers let loose a gush of lubricant. “Please let me help you...” I lick my lips anxiously, and then swallow my embarrassment. “... cum. You'll feel so much better!”

Bon-Bon's jaw drops at my statement. I don't think she was expecting my answer. I'm not sure I was, either. Lyra on the other hoof is quite amused. She begins giggling hysterically while inviting her love over to join us on the bed with a repeated curling and straightening motion of her index finger. The mare-turned-stallion stiffly makes her way onto the bed and climbs on. I move off to the side so that Lyra and I are on side either of the newcomer to our tryst.

Without prompting, Bon-Bon flops down onto the bed and rolls over, revealing her cupcake-induced endowment. It's one thing to see pictures of something on the internet and say, 'Sure, I've seen plenty of horse dicks,' like it's nothing. It's a completely different thing to see one in all it's mottled-pink glory. There's no way for me to adequately describe the way its veiny length pulses in time with her heart-beat, or the enticing musk that is wafting into my nose with it so close to me. Just by leaning in closely I can feel the heat—her arousal—radiating from her haft.

Hell, it has to be at least as big around as a baby's arm, and quite possibly as long as Lyra's fore-arm! That flared tip and medial ring yearn to be introduced to an eager, fertile mare. Her testes, like two ripe Honeycrisp apples, hang loosely against her bottom, just past the base of her penile sheath. As my eyes and nose take in everything about Bon-Bon's throbbing equine penis, I realize that Lyra and I did this—that I did this—to her, and on some primal level I like it.

As cautiously as a drunk can, I straddle the mare-stallion's chest and lean down close to her new-found stallionhood. I carefully maneuver a hoof beneath her erection in order to angle it up and away from her belly. Lyra watches wide-eyed, one hand drifting ever closer to the waistband of her panties, as I lower my face to her lover's penis.

Gently nuzzling her fleshy length, my nostrils flare and take in her overpowering musk. It's positively intoxicating to me; I'm absolutely salivating with lust, unable to think. That's it! I have to have a taste! Almost too eagerly, my tongue parts my lips. Throwing any pretense of forethought out the window, I run the tip of my tongue up the length of her erection from prepuce to flare, feeling it twitch in response to my stimulation.

I take only a moment to consider the bitter taste of her penile flesh before giving her a longer full-tongue lick. This time, the mare-stallion beneath me grunts in pleasure. That’s all the encouragement that I need. Wordlessly I begin slavering her penis with licks of various lengths and pressures, careful to note her reactions. It’s particularly fun to feel her squirm beneath me when I lap around the flare, and when she tries to buck her hips against me whenever I graze the medial ring, I can’t help but giggle.

Content that her length is thoroughly lubricated I begin to press my mouth against her glans. It’s rather difficult to fit it into my mouth given how large and aroused she really is. It takes a lot of clumsy maneuvering of my head, not just to get the flare past my lips, but to avoid grazing the sensitive flesh carelessly with my teeth. It’s something I certainly wouldn’t want, so I can do her no less.

Almost as soon as I begin ease myself down her length, I feel my body beginning to panic for air. Figures with my mouth slowly filling with cock the body would freak out and not realize it could still breathe through the nose. Seeing no other choice, I alter my strategy. Timing my breaths in between bouts of bobbing my head, I quickly fall into a rhythm. Bob. Breathe. Bob. Breathe. Rinse and repeat.

If Bon-Bon’s bouts of groaning, grunting and bucking against my throat are any indication, she’s definitely enjoying herself. A cursory glance at Lyra proves that she’s enjoying the show just as much as Bon-Bon. While she’s vigorously squeezing her breast and tweaking her perky silver-dollar nipple with one hand, she has the other stuffed clear down the front of her panties.

Each time I bob along Bon-Bon’s length, Lyra in turn rubs and fingers herself, seemingly matching my tempo. I quickly make a game of it, switching up my pace while watching Lyra. If I speed up, she rapidly thrusts her fingers into her gushing snatch. If I slow down, she’ll gently rub her vulva with her palm. It’s rather fun because just when she looks like she’s getting somewhere with the current pace, I’ll switch it up.

I become so absorbed in my teasing game that I completely forget about the blissfully groaning Bon-Bon beneath me. After I once again increase the tempo, I begin to feel a pressure building in my throat, and it becomes harder to move. It’s only when she begins to cry out that something’s coming that I realize her flare is expanding within my throat, and if I don’t pull back, I might choke.

I pull my head back as far as I can, but by this point the flare has expanded too much. It wedges itself against my tonsils and the back of my tongue, and there’s a fight to keep myself from gagging. An instant later, it begins pulsing copious amounts of thick semen down my throat. Suddenly desperate to stay alive, I begin swallowing as quickly as my body will allow, but it’s a losing battle. For every bit I do manage to swallow, Bon-Bon deposits double in my throat, until finally the only place it can go is out my nose. Posed with no other option, I hold my breath and hope she softens sooner rather than later.

When I finally do pull myself from her penis and fall off to Bon-Bon’s side, I can’t help but retch and cough semen onto the bedding. Happy to again breath through my mouth, I snort in an attempt to clear the semen from my nostrils. Not the most effective thing in the world, but it beats having my nose gummed up with cum for the next day.

It’s only when Lyra’s dry hand beings rubbing my back gently that I remember where I am and what I was doing. “You okay?” she asks, a lingering look of concern in her eyes. “I can’t believe you actually swallowed it.”

I look up to her with a wry look, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. “You try spitting when you’ve got more than half a foot of cock wedged in your throat,” I say accusingly, but ensuring my tone is even enough to imply humor. “... and why are you looking at me that way? Is there something on my face?”

She motions with her index and middle fingers to her nostrils, and trails them down to her upper lip. In other words, you have two streams of horse semen snaking down from your nostrils. I do the first thing that comes to mind, much to Lyra’s disgust, and wipe a forehoof across my muzzle.

Bon-Bon nuzzles my withers, and I turn to her. “So... How did it taste?” she asks, easily the most self-conscious I've ever seen her. “We... I’ve never been with a stallion—never saw the need—so I’ve never...”

“Morbid curiosity,“ I say flatly. “Gotcha.”

I pause and think, searching my mouth for remnants of the seminal fluid. It might seem weird to not have tasted any of it when I was being pumped full, but in my defense, I was more focused on surviving, and there are no tastebuds in the throat. Now though, I find it impossibly sweet. Surely this can’t be right... “Marshmallow... Fluff?”

Lyra does a double take, before muttering, “Either I’m far too drunk, or I’m misunderstanding you.”

“What?” I say incredulously. “That’s what it tasted like! I swear.”

Lyra gives me this skeptical look, but reaches her hand down and scoops a bit off of the bedclothes with a finger. She sniffs at it warily before popping it into her mouth. Almost immediately she takes the finger out and starts coughing and retching, causing Bon-Bon to chuckle in good fun at her mate. “Ew, Soren! You liar!” she shouts. “That’s disgusting! It doesn’t taste like marshmallows at all!”

Weird... Did it only taste like that to me? Maybe I’m far too drunk to comprehend the true flavor of Bon-Bon’s candy-flanked cum? “Does that mean you’re not going to eat that?” I offer. “Waste not want not.”

To their utter disbelief, I lean my head back down and lap up the remaining semen on the blanket. It’s so wrong, even in practice, but to my drunken taste-buds, it feels so right. “Soren that’s disgusting,” Lyra cries in disgust.

I look to Bon-Bon and grin seeing her renewed erection. “I don’t think Bon-Bon minds.”

Lyra shoots Bon-Bon a horrified look, but it is just shrugged off. “It was kind of hot seeing your body do that.”

I barely notice what they’re saying at this point. As they debate whether or not we should go all the way, my eyes are locked on Bon-Bon’s phallic glory. A morbid curiosity begins burning out what remains of my mind; how will that feel inside me? Is it too big? Will it hurt? All of these thoughts only serve to arouse me more. With every heartbeat, the treasure between my haunches clenches and pulses with excitement, and my thighs grow more and more slick. There is no pulling me back from my lust-driven madness.

With an almost bestial moan, I rise to my hooves and meander about the standing mare-stallion, playfully bumping my flank against hers, and flicking my tail about as I pass in front of her. There’s no personal reason I’m doing it; it just feels like it’s what I’m supposed to do. Once I’m certain I have her attention. I manage to wrest the center of the bed from Bon-Bon. My forelegs bend, lowering my front-end and making my rump all the more prominent. Finally, I flag my tail to the side. Whining pleadingly, I can only hope...

“Bonny, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” Lyra cautions her love. Wait, now she’s the reluctant one? What happened to that ‘punishing naughty unicorns’ attitude she had earlier, and wanting a child? Oooh... Don’t cockblock me Lyra! Think of that foal you wanted!

The mare-stallion doesn’t vocalize her answer. She doesn’t need to. A presence draws close to my hindquarters, and the draft of her breathing tell all I need to know. A shiver of excitemnt races up my spine as her face lingers. Something wet and supple traces the outermost boundaries of my vulva, pushing in ever so slightly. The touch of what can only be her tongue sends a mind-blowing rush of sensation up my spine and into my brain-stem, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from my throat. The unfamiliar pleasure is so intense that it’s all I can do to remain upright.

Disappointment begins to fill my stomach as her breath lingers between my haunches. She’s not even licking me any more. C’mon! You can’t just completely flip my switch and just tease me like that. All I want to do is scream out for her to stop teasing me and rut me until the sun rises. Being as drunk and switched on as I am, however, all my body can manage is a waggle of my hips as a strangled moan escapes my throat.

I turn my head to give them a pleading stare, but thankfully I don’t need to. Just as my head turns, Bon-Bon places her forehooves against my back as she hoists herself up onto my back. As Bon-Bon begins struggling to achieve penetration, thrusting her penis blindly against my dock, doubt begins filling my mind. What if she misses? What if it hurts? What if—my mind completely shuts down as the prodding strikes home.

Initially, the sensation of her glans parting my labial folds gives me mixed sensations. The feeling of being stretched open feels amazing, but at the same time, it doesn’t feel right. It’s almost downright uncomfortable, as through her penis is far too big for me. Is she simply better hung than average stallions? Or—oh no... In panic, my hind legs lock—leaving me chin down on the bedding—as the realization strikes me; Lyra’s hymen is intact.

A thousand thoughts race through my mind. Do ponies not have sex toys? Would some couples choose not to use them? Why am I thinking about this when I’m about to be deflowered? No, that’s not right! I have no right to lose Lyra’s virginity! A mare’s first time should be special, and with a loved one, not some drunken snog by proxy!

My desperate attempt to vocalize some discouragement or revocation of consent fall flat. Whether it’s the alcohol, some sort of post horn-gasm bliss, or if I’m really out of it because of the painkillers, it doesn’t matter. It’s not acceptable for my only recourse to be a groan that could be anything from discomfort to disbelief.

In her state, Bon-Bon clearly doesn’t get the message. With a frustrated grunt, she thrusts forth, her throbbing cock tearing through the last vestiges of Lyra’s maidenhead. Any semblance of pleasure vanishes from my nethers, and a sharp pain quickly replaces it, eliciting a whimper from my throat. Tears begin to rim my eyes, and my gaze locks forward, a fleeting hope dancing in my mind that she’ll be a quick shot and that it will all be over soon.

Somehow, Lyra must have sobered up enough to realize that I was in pain; that’s the only explanation for why she’s suddenly sitting in front of me, letting my head rest in her lap. I look up at her, feeling betrayed. Part of me wants to tell her that she never should have allowed me to go through with this, but as I stare into her eyes I feel a sincere unspoken apology in those glassy blue orbs... and something else, too—appreciation.

My borrowed form flinches involuntarily as Bon-Bon withdraws momentarily, only to give a strangled yelp when she slams forward again. In spite of my best efforts to shut the sensations away, my mind is painfully aware that she’s thrust in past her medial ring this time. I don’t want this, Lyra... Please, make it stop!

Sensing some of my discomfort, Lyra begins massaging my ears. The pleasurable sensation is in itself enough to distract me from the battering force ravaging my aching behind, but the pain slowly dies as she massages in time with the thrusts, giving way to a fulfilling pleasure. Even as I begin panting and whining appreciatively, my marehood releases a new stream of feminine juices.

Slowly, the pleasure begins to build, and as I begin enjoying myself I wish that Lyra does’t have to be left out as she watches her lover rut somepony else in her body. After all, with my chin situated on her crossed legs, I’m well aware of her arousal permeating the cloth of her panties. It’s a shame I’m not more skilled in magic.

Maybe I don’t have to be. I nuzzle at her thigh for attention before looking up once more. As soon as it’s clear she’s paying attention to me, my tongue lolls out goofily and an embarrassingly foalish bleat escapes me. To ensure that she knows that I’m not just enjoying myself too much, I nuzzle again, closer to her hip this time.

It takes a few moments for her to truly grasp my fuck-hungry noises, but when she finally does, she tousles my mane before sliding her panties off. For some reason, I’m surprised to see no pubic hair covering her feminine curvature. Did Lyra shave it? As Bon-Bon’s vigorous thrusting presses me further and further against her pubic mound, however, it becomes clear to me that she didn’t shave; there’s no stubble evident of any sort of shaving. As my snout grazes her vulva, however, it hits me. That body she inhabits—my body—is becoming a pony, and ponies don’t have pubic bushes like humans do.

A tap against the top of my head reminds me that I’m supposed to be doing something—or rather, somepony. My tongue darts out from my mouth, and I slide it along the length of her vulva. I can’t do much more with the way Bon-Bon is pounding me. Instead, I can only bathe in her tart juices as I become an impromptu strap-on.

Bon-Bon’s pace increases the closer she draws to climax. Even as her flare expands in me, I can feel my own pleasure skyrocketing. More and more I moan against Lyra’s soaking groin, in turn eliciting more pleasured moans from her. Before long, the pleasure of it all was battering against the rocks of my sanity.

Finally, Bon-Bon lets out a guttural moan, and her seed begins splashing into me. In turn, my own orgasm renders me a quivering mess between the two lovers as waves of indescribable pleasure assault my brain. I scream out into Lyra’s muff before succumbing to exhaustion. The last thing to pass my dimming consciousness is how comfy it is being on top of her.

Author's Notes:

And this, friends, is why virgins shouldn’t write clop.

Re-edited 11 July 2017