You are Rarity, and it seems everypony is coming down from the private little show.You leave the damp spot on the carpet behind, and slip into a lull of the conversation.

“Pardon me, but I must to bed. It’s been a pleasure, Princess, Anom, Chrysalis.”

Celestia turns to the odd pair of hiyumans.

“Of course, excuse me, I’d like to talk with her a bit, I’ll be right back.”

Anom smiles and gives you a little wave.

“Goodnight, Rarity.”

Chrysalis gives you a curt nod, which is honestly more than you were expecting. Celestia joins you, and you walk out. She manages a sheepish expression.

“Sorry for not including you earlier.”

You smile graciously.

“I could tell you had your hooves full, and I dare say I did as well before too long.”

She glances at your wet forehoof, and nods.

…

“I’ve hardly been there for him. What does it mean that I’m the best mistress he’s ever had?”

Hmmm.

“Perhaps…the previous ones were more jealous? Or aloof? Or harsh? Perhaps he just prefers ponies? Really, as long as he is happy with you, I wouldn’t worry too much.”

Celestia shakes her head.

“I still feel as though I’m taking advantage of him. I find it hard to believe that ponies in another world would so completely condition him to accept a life of sexual predation.”

…

“Has he said as much? Perhaps it was merely a job he chose.”

She pauses.

“Perhaps.”

She shakes her head with a sigh. Perhaps you should change the subject somewhat.

“Ah, what did you think of his attire?”

Celestia turns an unreadable look on you.

“It was very… political.”

You might have been a bit too clever for your own good.

“I loved it.”

She gives you a warm smile as you sigh in relief.

“We’ll have to have him wear it for Luna sometime. Perhaps the court will also tailor themselves a bit more for her. You may very well have no few customers by week’s end.”

While that is good, both for Luna and yourself, you are a bit more glad that Celestia truly liked it, rather than complimented your work for political reasons. That reminds you…

“Speaking of the court, has anypony dared address you by Finest Ass yet?”

Celestia giggles behind a raised hoof.

“No, not yet. Though I have noticed more gazes straying than usual.”

You nod.

“You know, he once said I had a good ass.”

She pauses, and you take a few steps forward, deliberately swaying your flanks.

“He’s not wrong.”

She trots up beside you, and you feel oddly pleased.

“That means a lot, coming from the Finest Ass.”

Celestia smiles at that, but her eyes go distant.

“Do you think…that’s how they sorted their hierarchy?”

It takes a moment for you to understand what she means.

“That seems really arbitrary.”

“From a society with either professional or indoctrinated pleasure servants for ponies? I know there have been times when the nobility have tended towards reckless hedonism. I have often wondered what would happen to my little ponies, had I not been there.”

“I am sure that the truth about his home is much stranger than what we have guessed. We really should ask him about it before going too far with our assumptions.”

You find yourself at the doors to your chambers.

“Thank you for walking me to my room, Celestia. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

Celestia nods.

“For me as well, you have given me much to think about.”

Perhaps it was how comfortable you feel around her, or maybe what she let you see before. Either way, the words leave your mouth with nary a thought.

“Were you a stallion, this would be when you lean in for a goodnight kiss. As it is though, I’m-“

She darts her head forward, kissing you gently on the cheek, lingering for the briefest of moments.

“Goodnight Rarity.”

Your heart thunders in your ears and you stare in shock as she sashays away. You fall back onto your rear, a hoof almost touching your face. Did she-

You hadn’t ever considered, not for yourself-

Do you even-

You whisper,

“Good night, indeed.”

It would seem you have much to think about this night as well.

In time, you lay in between the sheets, staring sightlessly at the ceiling. A knock sounds at the door, and you move to answer it. Twilight stands outside, several clipboards floating around her, along with quills and bottles of ink.

“Can I help you darling?”

Twilight gives you her “new project” smile.

“Nope, I got this one well in hoof. I was just wondering, do you want to be on Anom’s schedule as well, and if so, daily or weekly?”

You suppose it is time his education got a bit more structured, perhaps with some regular cultural exchanges. To that end…

“Daily, please.”

Twilight raises an eyebrow, then shrugs.

“Thank you. With that, I think I may be almost done… we’ll be meeting in my room after breakfast tomorrow.”

“I shall be there. And Twilight?”

“Yes?”

"Make sure that you get some rest. No schedule is worth your beauty sleep, darling.”

Twilight tilts her head.

“I can think of a few…but don’t worry, Rarity. I’ll be fine.”

“Very well. Goodnight, Twilight.”

“Goodnight Rarity.”

When you climb back into bed, you feel a bit more sleepy. What a day, what a night.

You are Spike, dragon of the house. It was touch and go for a while there, but then everypony came back and now you only have to do minor things around the library and keep an eye on Sweetie Bell. Rarity trusted you with this important, perilous task, and you just know she’s noticed how you’ve grown in the past year or so. You have an extra dorsal spine, and you are a cubit longer! You feel like you are entering in a new era of Spikedom.

It’s not even that hard for you to take care of Sweetie Bell anymore. She really respects your newfound maturity, and spends all day reading some books Twilight never let you organize or read.

“They’re only for mares, Spike. I’m sure you wouldn’t like them.”

You sneak a look every once in a while. Seems like normal stories as far as you can tell. Still, you wish Twilight and Rarity would come back soon. You hear a crash in the library. You sigh and grab a brush and dustpan.

You are Luna, projecting. Astrally, that is. Sometimes you spend hours in the night sky, shining down on the great sphere of your home. The moon is almost nonexistent in your mind. You’ve moved it so often, lived on its surface for longer than most minds can comprehend. You are aware you haven’t been acting the most sensibly these past few days. It was not so long ago that you warned your sister against bestiality for the last time. The creature has occupied Celestia’s attention far too much, and you must admit you are not immune to the pull.

It’s so strange, so friendly, so unpredictable. It falls to you to do what must be done. You bring your mind’s form to the shadows of the Everfree. Beasts and wisps scatter before your translucent hoofsteps. It is all too tempting to cut down the trees, hunt the aberrant, and smooth over the one rough spot in a world of order. Celestia disagrees.

For your part, you have noticed a troubling phenomenon. For every acre diminished, the magic within increases. Poison joke was once a rare herb, but now it grows in thick patches. Basilisks now venture out into the outer fringes of the forest. What you look for this night isn’t in the exact center, that’s not how this place works. You follow a river flowing upstream, as it rises in a double helix up a cliff-side, and into a roiling lake. At the shallowest end, a cracked geode half glows a deep blue as it drinks the water. A few strides away lies the other half, glowing a bright red, on top of a pile of strange artifacts. One of them looks like a boot, if it was fitted for a dragon’s claw. Or perhaps a hiyumin’s.

You are Chrysalis, and you are sitting on a cushion and waiting. Anom is perfectly relaxed on the bed. And why wouldn’t he be relaxed? He has nothing to fear. His body was made to penetrate. Of course, yours might be made to accept, but you have seen Changeling thoraxes ruptured. They dropped the guise in a panic when their partner grew too amorous, just in time for a penis to punch through the fragile rear joint in the carapace. You are reasonably sure you will never return to your original form, but even so, your body may be getting acclimated to the toxic biochemistry of the hiyumin species.

It would be just your luck if you died just as you supped deep of unfiltered love. Celestia returns soon enough. She glances at you, then nods in understanding. She climbs up beside the Love Nexus and nuzzles against his neck, a foreleg draped across his chest. He murmurs something, and you feel a brief stab of jealousy. What an odd thing to feel. Nevertheless, you climb in after her, taking his other side. You are taking a gambit here.

“Do not have sex with me. Especially while I am asleep.”

Anom nods, put a bit off balance by the command. Satisfied, you lay down on your side, turning your back to him. He pats your hip fondly, then leaves his hand there.

…

The night is still, but sharp. You try to rest, but every little motion moves his hand on you. At last, you gingerly lift his arm and return it to his side. Better…if colder.

You are Anon, and as you wake, your arms tingle. No, scratch that, they are still asleep, pins and needles everywhere. You tug a bit at your right arm, but it is under who knows how many pounds of magic horse. Your left one-

You would appreciate having a handful of ass more, but you can’t feel too much. Still, can’t pass this up. You give Chrysalis a gentle squeeze before sliding slowly out from under her. Feeling returns with agonizing slowness, and you work with a half-numb arm to free your other. Shewestia snorts in her sleep, but doesn’t stir. Using your formidable stealth skills, you crawl out of bed without waking either, uh, lady? Girlfriend? Alien?

At any rate, you stalk out into the early morning palace, sunlight wobbling only slightly through the windows. It’s nice, being up an about while everyone else is asleep. Occasionally, you see a changing of the guard, but there are few others roaming the halls. You meander down to the kitchen, your stomach waking up early as well. Now, where was it?

A few turns, and some helpful directions from a guard later, you open the door to the kitchen. And an… intimate scene. You freeze, they freeze, and you slowly close the door.

Well, okay. Now what?

The door opens, and a maid speedwalks away, her face red. The cook pokes his head out, nodding to you sheepishly.

“Can I, ah, help you with something?”

You feel a bit bad about interrupting, but,

“Breakfast please? Er, pancakes or whatever’s quickest.”

He nods again, and closes the door. You look around the hallway. Is there a chair, or-

The cook opens the door again.

“Would you like to wait inside? I mean, I could bring it to the dining hall, but you seem hungry…”

“Oh, yes, I’ll wait inside. Thanks.”

He gives a small smile, then holds the door open for you. It’s kinda awkward, just standing there, watching a horse make pancakes. He feels it too.

“Soooo… Celestia, huh?”

You shrug.

“Pretty much. Was that your girlfriend, or…”

“Gir-oh, marefriend. Yeah, we’ve been going steady for a while now. Er, sorry about earlier, nopony’s usually up this early.”

“It’s alright. Sorry for intruding, actually.”

He gives you a half-smile, then turns back to the griddle.

You are half done with your third pancake when he gathers his courage to speak again.

“So are you her coltfriend, or consort, or…nevermind, none of my business.”

Hmmm.

“I’m not entirely sure. We haven’t really talked about it.”

The cook horse shakes his head.

“Well, for what it’s worth, this is the happiest I’ve seen her in years. Keep doing what you are doing, I guess.”

You feel rather flattered.

“Thanks, I’ll do my best.”

He nods.

…

…

“Do you really call her Finest Ass? I heard it from a friend, but there’s no way…”

You are a little confused.

“It’s her title, isn’t it?”

The cook slowly shifts his weight onto his hind legs.

“Fortune favors the bold, I guess.”

You are about to question him some more, but the morning shift of cooks show up, and you quickly get out of their way.

You are Chrysalis, miraculously alive. You wake up to a change in the breathing next to you. You lay on your back, letting your senses catch up to your sudden consciousness. Oh yes, you remember your foolish gamble last night. Maybe not so foolish, you aren’t dead yet. Anon shifts slightly, his bare skin brushing against your shoulder. You feel warm, almost too warm. Then Anom shifts the other way and you are suddenly very aware of the fact that you are laying on his arm. You feign sleep, hoping he remains significantly distracted by Celestia. He grabs your butt.

You freeze in terror and something else. You know what will happen, but part of you keeps you still and silent, hoping that he doesn’t penetrate you, perhaps fatally. Yes, that is what keeps you from running away, that hope. Definitely. His arm slides out from under you, and-

You hear some low grunting as the bed jostles. Of course, Celestia! You feel a wave of relief flow through you, leaving only a slightly bitter aftertaste for some reason. After a surprisingly short time of having his way with her, Anom leaves the room. You sag into the mattress boneless, the danger passed.

“Better you than me, Princess.”

She doesn’t respond.

…

You slowly crawl over.

You can’t believe it. Somehow, she slept through all of –that-

…

You set yourself down gently in his place. His scent is all around you, a not entirely unpleasant experience. You stroke Celestia’s neck. It feels so strange, stroking what was once your mortal enemy. The cold remnants of your heart stir a little. Then she rolls on top of you, rubbing her cheek against yours.

“Ready for another round, are you? I know I am.”

Words die in your throat as you feel her feverish marehood slide up and down your leg. She’s-

It’s too-

"Ah. Um.”

Celestia pauses, her nose nuzzling your neck.

“Yes?”

"I’m not Anom.”

Celestia pulls back slowly. When she sees your face, hers turns beet red.

“Sorry, I thought- smell just-“

She scrambles off. You find yourself smiling for some reason.

“My leg is very flattered, though.”

You’ve seen Celestia struck down by your magic. You’ve seen her suspended and helpless in a cocoon. You think you prefer her like this, head buried in a pillow, moaning in deep embarrassment. You pat her shoulder consolingly.

“It’s okay, I’m sure you don’t rape ponies most of the time.”

“Mvrph!”

“Please, you get off on forcing me to lick Anom.”

…

“I pity the guards, I can only imagine what you put them through for your sick amusement. How many young stallions have touched each other to sate your sexual appetite?”

Celestia lifts her head glares at you.

“None. I cannot deny I have some…interest in your punishment, but it is still a good precaution in this situation. Now, shall we leave this topic, and get some breakfast?”

"You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To just ignore all those lustful motives for your actions.”

She draws herself up, reclaiming some lost dignity.

“Awfully bold for one who claims she doesn’t want sex, yet rolls in the scent of a male. Oh, and you’re wet too.”

You look down at your traitorous flower.

…

You don’t really want…

You huff.

“Whatever. I’m having Twilight witness today’s lick.”

Celestia snorts.

“Fine by me.”

…

You aren’t going to say it. She seems similarly stubborn.

…

Her stomach growls.

"Hah! Anot-“

Your stomach growls.

…

“Food?”

Yes.”

You are Twilight Sparkle, and you feel pretty excited about the upcoming meeting, it’s the first time you’ve organized something like this…

Involving other ponies. Your own schedule usually has a few slots marked with vague euphemisms, and is partly why you don’t dictate your daily schedule to Spike anymore. You also want him to grow as a dragon, and not be so defined by being your #1 assistant. You eat your breakfast early and quickly, and get back to your bedroom to put the finishing touches on your presentation.

You are Spike, and you feel a little odd, walking through the boutique when Rarity isn’t there. There’s something in the air, the sense of clothes mares don’t let you see, too many silks in artful disarray. There’s also some muted splashing from one of the back rooms, and you hope Sweetie Bell isn’t making too much of a mess. You wander around, listening to the hairdryer with only half an ear. When at last Sweetie Bell reappears, you find yourself deeply uncomfortable. Her hair is a vivid purple, a little off from her sister’s, but noticeably similar. She turns her head to the side, showing off the familiar curl her mane has just gotten long enough to pull off. She’s grown, since you first arrived in Ponyville.

“What do you think? I mean, Spikey-wikey, do I look good?”

For some reason, it is suddenly a bit warmer in the shop.

“Why are you…”

Sweetie Bell huffs, but without commitment.

“Can’t a mare, uh, change her mane every once in a while?”

She starts to walk around you. Then your nose registers the smell, the perfume Rarity usually wears, but too much.

“Why are you trying to be Rarity?”

She comes around to your front again.

“I’m not, I’m just trying to be a bit more sophisticated in how I present myself, that’s all. Now, what do you think?”

She starts to circle behind you.

“Well, it’s a little h-OW!”

Sweetie Bell stumbles, and your tail throbs.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to, I…”

You turn around, only for your face to come a hairsbreadth from hers. Her eyes are so large and luminous.

“I just, I wanted you to notice me.”

You reach out your claw, uncertain and hesitant.

“I do notice you, I’ve been watching over you while they’re gone.”

You pat her shoulder once. Sweetie frowns.

“I’ve grown, you know. I’m practically a real mare now.”

“I know.”

She pauses at that. You find your face heating up. Sweetie Bell turns her head away, presenting her neck to you.

“Sh-show me.”

She’s not Rarity, she can’t be Rarity. Your claw traces up her neck. She shudders. Maybe, maybe you can be for her what you wish Rarity was for you. In the too sweet air, in the closed shop of silks and longing, it is enough.

You are Celestia, and you aren’t entirely sure what this meeting is about, Twilight was oddly vague about the agenda. Still, when you look around at the other mares in the room, you figure it has something to do with Anom. Luna is looking…serious. More so than usual, that is.

Rarity is blushing ever so slightly. You still aren’t entirely sure how far you or she wants to go, but she is very dear to you. Chrysalis is slightly grumpy, but she is a captive. Twilight clears her throat and levitates a clipboard to each of the assembled mares and the hiyumin.

“Before I begin, let me just say how honored I am that you have chosen me to put this together. I hope it will be to your satisfaction.”

You look at the heading of the chart, “Procreative Allocations in Polyamorous Association with Anom” Oh yes, the sex schedule. You glance around, and find the others aren’t as calm about the document’s contents. Luna huffs angrily, dropping the clipboard to the floor. Rarity looks conflicted,

“Darling, I thought you meant for teaching him things like table manners and learning about his homeworld.”

Twilight raises a hoof, and pauses.

“Oh.”

Chrysalis scowls at the paper.

“Where am I?”

Twilight trots over, distracted.

“Um, since you don’t actually want to procreate with him, you can just sorta hang around all day, and maybe share a session with an obliging mare.”

You clear your throat.

"I won’t mind, if it comes to that.”

Chrysalis gives you an unreadable look, but nods her thanks. Luna snorts.

“She can have mine, I have no intention of coupling with Anom ever again. Now, if the trivialities are over with, I have a matter of some import.”

Twilight makes a small noise of protest, her eyes wavering as she gazes at your sister with tears welling up in her eyes. Luna shifts uncomfortably.

“Perhaps I spoke in haste. Now that the very important matter of rutting has been efficiently and comprehensively dealt with, “

Twilight smiles a little. Luna continues,

“I have found the rupture from whence Anom entered Equestria.”

You straighten up a little.

“Is it stable?”

She nods.

“There is a semi-continuous exchange of matter between the two worlds. It is possible that a number of strange animals passed through, only to be eaten or otherwise killed before exiting the Everfree. There are also a number of artifacts in varying states of repair piled up around the portal from Anom’s land to ours. It would be best if Anom were to identify them before any research is begun.”

You nod.

“A wise precaution. Well, Anom? Shall we go?”

He rocks back, a swirl of emotions crossing his face.

“I, uh, yeah, I can do that.”

You get up. Twilight stands forlornly by the chalkboard.

“But, my presentation…”

"Don’t you want to learn more about hiyumin civilization? But before that, Chrysalis has something she wants you to witness.”

The shapeshifter glares at you, and shoos you away. Anom makes as if to leave, but Chrysalis places a restraining claw on his shoulder. You wait outside in the hall with Luna and Rarity. Rarity gives you a questioning glance.

“It’s part of her punishment. I guess she’s just being shy about it.”

She nods, not really understanding, but accepting the explanation.

You are Twilight, and you were all set to give a lecture on respecting each other’s time, and some educated guesses about hiyumin refractory periods, but-

Chrysalis holds Anom’s claw in both of hers, bringing it up to her face. What is she-

A pink tongue swirls around one of his soft claws, then retreats back into her mouth. Anom’s breathing speeds up. You glance down at the tunic he was wearing, and, yup, a boner. Chrysalis sees it too.

“Really? Just from that?”

Anom gives her an odd look.

“Of course.”

Chrysalis shakes her head in weary disbelief.

“Whatever. Go look at your broken things.”

She strides away.

…

Anom shrugs, and takes another look at the schedule you made.

“Hey, thanks, this should keep things sane for a while.”

You feel a bit better.

“You’re welcome, Anom. Anytime you need something organized, I’m your mare.”

He smiles.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”