Blue Hair

My lame attempt to write a sequel to http://pastebin.com/H2wjBLqm

--

I had initially panicked when the cop approached me in the alley.

But panic soon gave way to puzzlement. Her outfit looked more like a Halloween costume than a genuine uniform. Did they allow policewomen to wear skirts that short? And, under her cap, just a hint of blue hair…

I tried running, at first. She caught up with me in a few steps. Next I tried fighting, but she weaved around my first fist and spun me around. One second later, both my hands were cuffed behind my back.

Fuck.

--

I awoke in somebody’s bedroom. Quite dissonant from the jail cell I had expected. Standing over me and staring intently was a little pink pony with gigantic, unsettling eyes.

We stared at each other for a while, her in curiosity and me in incredulity. Then I sat up and took stock of my surroundings.

I was clearly in a girl’s bedroom, laying on a queen-sized bed with cerulean sheets and pink lacy pillows. Clothes and intimates in soft pastel colors lay scattered all around. The cop costume was hanging on a vanity mirror. And, scattered all around the room were a half-dozen brightly colored ponies, each three feet high, all staring at me curiously. One in particular, a shy-looking yellow pony peeking out from under the nightstand, seemed to be watching me with an unusual intensity.

The pink pony sidled up next to me, her hooves sinking into the mattress. Her voice rang out, high-pitched and adorable. “So, what are you in for?”

Ever the master of erudite oratory in unknown situations, I replied “Huh?”

She blinked those unsettlingly large, liquid eyes. “Mama wouldn’t have brought you here unless you did something bad! What bad thing did you do?”

Was I in the thrall of some pony-based vigilante ring? I vaguely wondered if they would try to reform me via Care Bear Stare. Was that something cartoon ponies even did?

The pink pony, recognizing my confusion, sat next to me. I shifted away uncomfortably. “You see,” she said, “everybody here used to be a bad person before Mama taught us to be good little ponies!”

FUCK.

She pointed (as far as hooves can point) at a white pony curled up in the corner. Tattooed on her thigh was the image of a razor blade. “For example, Snowshiver used to sell cocaine!”

“Not anymore!” Snowshiver piped up. “Mama taught me that drugs are bad!”

A yellowish-gold pony with a picture of black lace panties on her thigh piped up next. “And I used to be a pimp!”

“But you’re a better pony now since Mama taught you the error of your ways! Right, Clopping Cunt?” The gold pony nodded.

The pink pony kept going around the room. “Everybody here has benefited from Mama’s lessons! Trotting Twat over there used to be in a gang, and Deceitful Kinevel used to steal cars and street-race them! Bitchslap used to abuse his wife, Bucking Bastard robbed several convenience stores and Ill-Gotten Pains was a financial fraudster!”

“And I,” she said, placing a hoof proudly on her chest, “am Prancing Prick! I used to be Mama’s boyfriend.”

Shakily, I pointed at a shy pony under the nightstand. “W-What about her?”

“Oh, that’s Fuck You. She used to be a serial killer.”

This was all way too much to absorb. Had all these ex-criminals been turned into cartoon ponies with ironic, insulting names as some form of twisted vigilante punishment? “What’s w-w-with your weird names?” I asked.

The pink pony stared at me uncomprehendingly. “Huh? What’s wrong with our names?” The other ponies muttered in mutual confusion.

I had to get out of here.

As I desperately tried to force the locked door, Prancing Prick trotted up next to me. “So, what’s the bad thing you did?”

“Uh…. jaywalking?”

Sudden laughter rang out.

--

There she was, the blue-haired not-cop, quite human and grinning ominously. The ponies all clustered around her legs, nuzzling them lovingly and crying “Mama!”

“Jaywalking? That’s fucking rich. Why don’t you tell my little ponies what you REALLY did?” She fixed unblinking eyes on me.

Somehow, I wasn’t able to keep silent or lie. On her command, I had to tell them everything. Eyes on my feet, I reluctantly began. “I, uh, roofied a girl’s drink at a party and raped her while she was unconscious.”

The ponies all gasped in horror.

“Truly despicable.” the blue-haired woman said. “A complete lack of respect for women, personal boundaries and human dignity. Time for you to learn your lesson!”

She twisted a ring on her middle finger and began to draw glowing symbols in the air with her hand. I was sweating and shivering, but rooted to the spot and unable to move. She began chanting.

“Rapist twat, fake and phoney, time to be a little pony!”

My body suddenly shivered and began deflating like a balloon. Cerulean blue hairs sprung from my skin, making me look like a shrinking human rug.

“Little mare, learn your lesson! Repent and pay for your transgression!”

I squealed in pain, my voice climbing several octaves, as my bones painfully cracked and shuffled. As I fell down onto all fours, my fingers fused together and grew firm, hard like fingernails. Silvery hair pushed out from my ass, matching the mane now shaggily growing down past my eyes. As my rear legs snapped into digitigrade position, I stumbled and fell flat on my belly, sobbing.

My mind swirled, trying to rationalize away newfound guilt. What had I been doing? The girl had been out of my league, a snotty rich preppy, and I hadn’t gotten any action in months… and she wouldn’t even remember it, right? No harm, no foul!

The guilt surged back, like a tsunami. No, that wasn’t right! There were clear personal boundaries that had to be respected! Even if she hadn’t known about it, a violation was a violation! What if I had given her a disease! Or gotten her pregnant!

The tsunami raged, sweeping away my old personality. I felt naked and ashamed.

Oh god, I was a terrible person! A rapist! A violent sexual maniac!

I sobbed and sobbed until the darkness closed in.

--

I woke up to the warm feel of fingers scratching my neck. Peeking around, I saw I was sprawled across warm, bare legs.

Mama’s legs.

The other ponies were clustered around me, snuggling warmly and sighing softly in blissful sleep.

I yawned, and Mama’s beautiful face looked down, gently. “Good morning, Mincing Mare.” Just hearing her melodious voice say my name sent a shiver of pleasure down my side.

“Good morning, Mama!”

“Are you feeling better?” she asked. “You fell asleep crying.”

“I am!” I exclaimed eagerly. “Mama taught me how bad I’ve been! I’m gonna be real good from now on!”

She laughed. “Now, I think there’s a pony over there who would like to snuggle with you, Mincing Mare.” She pointed to the nightstand, where Fuck You was eagerly staring at me. I hopped down and joined her under the table, embracing her tightly. Mama looked on and smiled, eyes narrowed.

Nuzzled against Fuck You’s soft, warm body and entranced by the slow beating of her heart, I fell asleep once more.