There were generally three main ways of getting into the building. Those who worked there had a private entrance. Quite a few of the ones who had businesses within the courtroom would choose to enter via underground tunnel, because some of them had gotten into this mess by pushing through a dark cylindrical space and there was clearly no need to change anything now. And the spectators tended to come in via the front, laughing and calling out greetings to each other as they made their way towards the ornate doors. Those parties would generally go silent once they reached their benches, because it was considered rude to talk over the testimony -- but there were occasional exceptions made for regulars.

The majority of those who were entering for the first time tended to be shocked by the interior layout. Anypony exploring the building would find the expected offices, judge's chambers, restrooms, some seldom-used emergency arbitration areas, and a file storage section which featured some of the strongest defensive enchantments in the realm. (A number of losing parties had recognized that there was but a single place which hosted the Permanent Record and decided their last recourse was to set it on fire.) The concessions stand usually came as something of a surprise, although not quite as strong as that which arose from discovering that the refreshment prices were actually quite reasonable.

But most of the initial attendees were quite reasonably expecting to get more than one courtroom.

It was somewhat less harsh than the building's exterior. Paneling had been done in rosewood, and just about all of the benches were plush. It was easy to settle down and stay for a while, especially in the spectator areas. And the sight lines were actually rather well thought-out, especially since a plaque-commemorated genius had thought to put in stadium seating.

The population of the district would have seemed to mandate extra facilities. But as with all courthouses, the majority of cases were settled well before reaching this stage. Ponies would work out compromises. Debts were privately totaled and paid. Some went to Sex Court ahead of their actual trial date in order to get a look at the place, spotted the stadium seating, and decided to compromise right there. Only a fraction of the potential caseload ever came before Judge Heartstopper (although most had come well before that), and so a single courtroom sufficed.

The spectator seating took up most of the room because unless there was classified material in play, the public had the right to attend trials. However, nothing in Equestria's founding documents said they had the right to do it for free and so for Sex Court alone, there was an admission charge -- but the season ticket discounts were significant, and it was easy to reserve your favorite bench. Seniors, who found this form of daily entertainment to be cheaper than the cinema and sometimes had trouble with hearing the best parts of the testimony, generally got to sit near the front. Just about everypony brought their own water, and did their best not to loudly munch on popcorn during the good bits.

The gallery was its own little community. The privacy forms which were permanently bundled into the ticket contracts meant they generally only got to discuss cases with one another. Friendships sprung up along the rows. Relationships had been started, and the resulting couples would start potentially bringing their children -- once they were old enough, which was generally measured as 'fifteen years post-graduation or after I'm dead, whichever comes second'. And multiple books were being planned, but only after enough of the names and details had been changed to avoid giving the authors some lawsuits of their own.

The wheels of justice turned smoothly and, courtesy of tickets and concessions, also turned a small profit.

---

Judge Impassi Heartstopper entered the courtroom, and the day's proceedings officially began. Chatter faded away as experienced spectators prepared themselves for the mandatory part.

"All rise," the bailiff ordered.

They did. The Sex Court gallery was only asked to rise before the first case of the day, because none of the testimony had started and after that happened, some of them legitimately couldn't, usually because they already had.

The gallery didn't shut down until an hour after the judge had gone home. The season ticket holders liked to stick around and talk about the day's events. Or about hoofball. A lot.

The judge took her bench.

"First case," she said. "Ms. Rivka Поломка of Yakyakistan vs. Mr. Shoal."

---

You could learn a lot, when you were in the gallery. One of the more frequent topics was interspecies relationships. There were very few such truly stable relationships in Equestria, even within the capital -- but ponies experimented. With magic, each other, and occasionally ran all of that out to seeking the affections of those who weren't ponies at all.

And because every species had its own magic, culture, way of perceiving the world, and ponies were, by and large, creatures who occasionally forgot that zebras existed... there were misunderstandings.

For example, it took a strong-willed pony to date a donkey. This happened every so often, because a well-groomed jenny could be exceptionally pretty and some ponies would decide that when it came to ungulates, a donkey was clearly close enough. And then they would get into the bedroom for the first time, and the donkey would wearily gaze at their partner's endowment while slowly shaking her head with regret, because that was just what a jenny did and it took an exceptionally tough pony to go through that more than once.

And when it came to yaks...

"She said we were going to use sex toys!" Dune Shoal frantically insisted -- or did so with as much force as the unicorn could manage without putting too much internal pressure on the bruises. "And I thought okay, I'm already going out with a yak, I've gone this far, so what's a few toys? But when we got in there, she just -- she..."

Words ran out. The yak, silky, strong, and elaborately-braided, looked confused. Judge Heartstopper simply took a breath.

"Mr. Shoal," the judge said, "are you sure that's what she said?"

"...well," the unicorn faltered, "I... think so. I mean, I know she was talking about sex toys, but yak sentence structure is so weird..."

Judge Heartstopper turned her steely attention towards the yak.

"Ms. Поломка?" The pretty, half-confused, and rather large dri perked up. "Please provide a word describing that night's actions, in the terms of making sure you personally experienced pleasure."

"Sex," Rivka immediately declared.

"And the role of a unicorn during that act?"

"Sex toy."

Dune Shoal froze.

"Pony has good horn," the dri decided with a smile. "Long. Thicker than usual." Warmly, "Squirming helped."

---

Eventually, that was straightened out. The budding relationship went off to find somewhere it could recover, burdened by the arrival of fresh Knowledge and a number of helpful pamphlets. Reading the pamphlets was mandatory. Strictly speaking, the waiver forms were optional, but the judge always recommended keeping the emergency contact whistle next to the bed.

"Next case," Judge Heartstopper announced. "Mr. Tumbleweed --" The doors opened, and a slightly-built, somewhat underweight unicorn trembled his way up to the plaintiff's station. "-- versus --"

The doors opened again. A portion of wind rushed around the stadium seating, because the defendant wasn't in a good mood and every flap of the cyan wings came with Consequences. This was followed by the gallery leaning in to get a closer look --

-- the spectators generally remained silent. There was a degree of decorum to be followed, and the rules were generally kept right up until the moment when they heard something really funny.

But you had to make exceptions for regulars.

"RAINBOW!"

The half-hovering mare looked around. Crossly-folded forelegs briefly untangled themselves, and the right one managed a tiny wave.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered as she flew towards her assigned place. "Nice to see everypony. Really. It's just so good to be back -- Bracy? You're pregnant? Congrats! When did that happen? Whose is it? I mean, other than yours. And I know this mare who can sew up some really good buntings --"

"-- Miss Dash," Judge Heartstopper interrupted, "please take the defendant's bench." Paused. "Again."

Eventually, most of the pegasus settled in. The judge had given up on asking her to remain completely still long ago. Some degree of shuffling and wing movement was reasonably expected and in any case, when it was Rainbow, the court was doing exceptionally well to keep her within two body lengths of the actual bench.

"Do you have anypony coming in to represent you?" the judge checked.

Which produced a half-muttered, "No," followed by a long pause and a rather sulky "Again."

This was normal. Rainbow had tried to hire attorneys before this. Doing so had naturally meant meeting them first, and entire law firms had been known to spontaneously go on vacation rather than try to get Rainbow Dash off on what was essentially a charge of Being Rainbow Dash.

Tumbleweed kept glancing at her. Every moment of visual contact (which she didn't notice) was accompanied by a shudder. This was also normal. Rainbow had once testified that one of her goals in sex was to ruin her partners for all other mares and until the resulting therapy kicked in, she generally succeeded.

"So what happened this time?" Judge Heartstopper asked, and waited for it.

---

Rainbow's sex life came with a certain degree of fallout. Just for starters, the area surrounding her home had initially seen its property values plummet.

"Allow me to summarize," the judge finally said as the notebook magnetically snapped itself shut. "You were, in your own words, 'in the mood'."

Rainbow nodded. The pegasus was often found 'in the mood'. Some of her lesser charges had come about because a mare whose emergency napping spots tended to be semi-public didn't feel like getting all the way home before masturbating and surely that high exterior building alcove was going to be just visually shielded enough.

"So you picked up Mr. Tumbleweed," the judge reviewed. "For the express purpose of having sex."

Another nod, and Impassi briefly considered the stallion's rather minimal physical size. When Rainbow decided to pick somepony up for sex, she meant it.

Which was part of the problem.

"And when you were well into the act --"

"-- I like to move!" Rainbow abruptly yelped, and the judge didn't bring a forehoof down because you generally made exceptions for regulars. "Everypony knows that! It's more fun if you're moving! Anyway, I was doing what you told me to! I stayed on the bed this time!" The briefest of pauses. "Around the bed. In the rough vicinity. For what had to have been four whole minutes! It might have even been five --"

"-- and then," Judge Heartstopper said, "you had a thought."

"There's this stunt I've been working on," Rainbow promptly said. "If you bring in the blackboard this time, I can draw up some diagrams --"

Neutrally, "-- and the thought was?"

The pegasus abruptly swallowed.

"'Maybe it would work better with a drag weight'."

Property values around Rainbow's home had initially plummeted. Multiple ponies had decided to move out. Then word on why they were moving had gotten out, and the nature of the market had asserted itself. Something which, once the right buyers had become aware of the opportunity, had made those values rebound all the way back, and somewhat beyond.

"So I thought..." Rainbow verbally stumbled... "we've already come this far, I'm pretty much in the first stage over the bed already, and if there was just some more space to work with..."

"I DIDN'T WANT TO GO OUTSIDE!" Tumbleweed abruptly yelped, and did so just as the last portion of lingering styling in his tail vibrated itself apart.

There were a lot of new residents in Rainbow's neighborhood. Just about all of them kept a pair of binoculars in every room and stood ready to use them at all times. Rumors of home movie camera setups were persistent.

The pegasus half-spun on her bench, and furious magenta eyes glared across the gap. "If you didn't like it --"

"I was trying to tell you! The wind was whipping my words away!"

"You could have just pulled out!"

"What, and lose an anchor point? You nearly tossed me off during that loop! Twice!"

"You kept moving around! The more I flew, the more you moved! That meant you were having fun --"

"-- I was trying for better bracing!"

"MISS DASH," the judge sternly said.

Slowly, Rainbow turned to face the bench. Wings angrily refolded, and didn't quite tuck back in all the way.

"...I came twice during that loop," the pegasus said. "And still kept it all going. So I must have been doing something right."

The courtroom collectively gave her a little while to settle down.

"Miss Dash," the judge finally resumed, "did you tell Mr. Tumbleweed about what you wanted to do?"

"There wasn't time --"

"-- there is," the older mare cut her off, "always time in the bedroom, and during the act. Time to place between thought and deed. Did you tell him?"

The cyan forelegs had folded again, and the sleek head was now turned in a way that meant the pegasus was just about muttering into her own flank.

"...no."

"Which meant you didn't ask him if he wanted to come along on the 'stunt'."

"...no."

Impassi, with expert effort and great experience, completely failed to sigh.

"Miss Dash," she reviewed, "what does 'consent' not mean?"

And because you made exceptions for regulars, the entire gallery said it with her.

"It does not mean," most of a courthouse chorused, "'You entered my bedroom, you knew what you were getting into'."

They would have known, if any of them had come back for a second time. Rainbow was rather consistent in her drives and, with certain subjects, a consistently slow learner.

But she picked up a lot of ponies for sex. Once each.

"...can I change my plea now?" Rainbow finally asked.

"Yes."

"Is there gonna be a fine? Because there was this Daring Do collectible I wanted to get and --"

"Yes."

The pegasus openly sulked.

"Am I ever getting off community service?"

Impassi Heartstopper considered the odds.

"If by 'getting off'," the judge said, "you mean once again ducking out of litter duty and finding what you mistakenly believed to be a completely hidden alcove --"

"I WAS BORED!"

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