Flutterrape: Laundry Day

>Man, were you tired as all hell, and then some.
>It didn’t help that you had one too many mugs of cider last night.
>Served you right for trying to drink the whole bar under the table; you wanted that sweet, sweet prize money.
>Hey, it would’ve worked, but it was a big bar.
>Thank god it was the weekend, otherwise you’d be late for work.
>You were also short on clothes, so you’ve been sleeping in the nude.
>It was fucking frigid in your small home, relatively small anyway—freaking hobbit horses.
>There was no way were you going to leave your nice warm bed anytime soon.
>You moaned drowsily as you buried your face into your supple pillow.
>Aaah, that’s the stuff.
>You were right where you needed to be.
>It was so soft and velvety, almost furry?
>Smelled fantastic too.
>Like honey, even a touch of lavender, but it smelled so…so natural.
>That was strange; you didn’t remember it smelling so nice.
>It usually smelled like you.
>You snuggled even closer to it, squashing your cheek against it.
>There was a new feeling, so very slight and soft, like satin.
>It was gently brushing down your face, trailing from your brow to your lips, almost sensually.
>Heheheh.
>It tickled, but it was also waking you up, so you carefully relocated your head.
>This new spot was even softer, somehow.
>This feathery pillow was just so fluffy and wonderful.
>Wait…
>You didn’t have a downy pillow let alone a feathery case.
>Your bloodshot eyes pried themselves open.
>Fluttershy was pressed up against you, snoozing away.
>There was a small, innocent smile on her face, and her hooves had wrapped themselves around you.
>Nothing stood between your smooth skin, and her soft fluffy coat.
>The warm sensation of her velvet fur put your body at ease, but your mind knew what was going on.
>This was a calculated move on her part.
>Focus, you had to focus!
>But it was a futile struggle, you were already drifting off again.
>Just when all hope seemed lost, her silky tail suggestively ran up your thigh like it had a perverted mind of its own.
>That sobered you up quick.
>You leapt out of bed, inhaling deeply.
“WAKE THE FUCK UP!” You shouted.
>She let out startled yelp, diving under the bed.
>The shaken Pegasus rambled incoherently for a few moments, likely still coming to.
>“Oh no! I’m sorry—I just-“
“What’re you doing here?!” you demanded.
>She coughed, peeking her head out from below the bed. “Well, I was just gonna sort of, I mean, maybe do your laundry?”
>Today was laundry day.
>You’ve always been lazy about doing your chores, especially the laundry.
>One day you caught her inside your hamper, rubbing her moist horsepussy all over your dirty clothes.
>Now she wanted to make it up to you by doing your laundry once a week.
>And by that, you meant she wanted you to put those restraining order plans on hold.
>Unfortunately, many articles of clothing had started disappearing; likely why you’ve been sleeping nude these days.
>It probably served you right for entrusting your threads to the little creep, but come on.
>You *really* hated doing laundry.
>Things were bad enough when you had a washing machine, but the one’s here were operated with magic and were not sold for domestic use.
>That meant doing this shit by hand.
>First, you mended any holes or tears, so that they wouldn’t get worse from scrubbing.
>Then you presoaked your clothing to make cleaning them a bit easier; they needed to soak for about a day.
>Oh, but you couldn’t forget to deal with those fucking stains.
>Most ponies in this neck of the woods used homemade grain alcohol or acidic juice from citrus fruits.
>If you didn’t use them, then you’d fall prey to the steep prices of imported stain removers like the clueless cityslicker you were; haggling only did so much.
>Now, you could actually wash your stuff.
>And by wash, you meant tediously scrubbing clothes on a washboard using hot water and lye soap—awesome.
>Next, you’d boil your duds; it was to kill any little uninvited guests, but you didn’t see the point of that without any human lice to encroach your head.
>What would doing the laundry be without dealing with your white threads?
>If they started to yellow, you’d need to whiten or ‘blue’ them with indigo powder or whitening product.
>You weren't done yet, drying time.
>Luckily, irons here seemed to be modern and sensible.
>But the few times you tried this bullshit, you had to borrow one from Rarity.
>She got them from out of town, because the locals only sold hunks of metal that you had to hold with a cloth, lest you burn your hands trying to use the damned things.
>Which meant, that’s right—more tedium.
>If Rarity couldn’t loan you hers, then you'd have to manually heat one of those pieces of shit in a stove or pan.
>Since these traditional irons couldn’t hold heat properly, you'd have to preheat a couple more.
>And even then, you’d still have to reheat all of them a few more times to get the job done.
>Finally, fucking finally, you’d leave them to hang dry.
>Wow, how fulfilling and natural; to think that there were people who romanticized living *more* bare bones than this.
>Nah, fuck that noise—fuck it in the ass.
>Of course you were going to shove your dirty work onto the pony who just went back to cowering under the bed.
“Uh-huh,” you said, dragging her out into the open. “a likely story.”
>Fluttershy dusted herself off with a wing.
>She rubbed her hoof along the ground.“I just...just wanted to get a head start! Better late than never, right?”
“Don’t come uninvited,” you snapped. “that’s still breaking into my house!”
>The demure pony whimpered, hanging her head.
>But then she gave you a look filled with affection, and that little glint that told you she wasn’t really sorry—the fucker.
>“When I saw you there...” She glanced away, her face blossoming red. “Sleeping so innocently, and not making scary noises, I just *had* to join you.”
“I was naked,” you said. “and that’s pretty creepy.”
>One of Fluttershy’s ears twitched, her lips pursed in confusion. “Oh, but I don’t mind. You don’t need to impress anypony.”
>She nodded matter-of-factly. “You’re wonderful just the way you are.”
You gave her a blank stare. “You gonna do my laundry, or not?”
>Yellow Quiet gasped, wings spread. “Of course! Sorry! I’ll do it right away!”
>She fluttered her little flappers over to the hamper.
>Then she took a deep whiff, letting out a sigh of content. “Don’t worry, Anon, I’ll take *good* care of those ‘lucky boxers’.”
>She yanked the hamper with her mouth and zipped downstairs.
“Yeah, sure,” you grumbled, opening your drawer. “whatever.”
>The drawer was empty.
>You only had one pair of clothes, and Fluttershy just took off with them.
“GOD. DAMN. IT!”
>Why did you let her keep some after every laundry day?
>Oh, right.
>It just wasn’t possible to do a full hamper in a day the old fashioned way—not if you wanted to get anything else done anyway.
>You had thought she was doing a few small batches over the course of a week.
>But now...
>Ewww, she probably got off with them.
>And now you were butt naked!
>You peeked out your window.
>The sun was high in the sky; morning had passed, and the town was bustling with activity.
>There were foals scampering around their parents, farmers hauling a cart full of goods to be sold at the market, a gaggle of mares heading off to the park as they chattered away, and some shithead yelling at everyone from his second story window.
>Just another day in Ponyville.
>Fluttershy was nowhere to be found among the throng of passing ponies.
>You gulped.
>No one’s seen you naked; you had hoped to keep it that way.
>But now, there was no other choice.
>Or was there?
>Oh, nope.
>She took the towels too.
>Okay, so there really were no other options.
>All because you were too lazy to do your own damn laundry.
>Fucking Laundry Day.

>You hesitantly stepped outside of your house, sticking your leg out the door as far as it would go.
>Your eyes frantically scanned the area until you spotted a bush nearby.
>When the coast was clear, you jumped into the thing.
>No one had noticed you, yet.
>Good.
>The bush wasn’t rooted to the ground.
>That meant you’d be able to move under cover.
>Good thing the flora here was designed to be carried and controlled by little ponies.
>But wait, wouldn’t that make it dead?
>How did this shit work?
>Well, you weren’t going to start questioning things now, especially if they were working in your favor.
>So, the good news.
>Ponies either didn’t care what you were up to, or genuinely didn’t find it strange to find a large shrub in the middle of a path.
>The bad new?
>You could barely see where you were going.
>Everything just looked so green, spotty, and planty.
>Poking your head out helped, but that could seriously blow your cover.
>Still, it was such a hindrance.
>You were pretty sure you went in circles at least once.
>As you bumped your head on a stupid bench, you realized there was a silver lining in most things.
>This let you know that you’ve made some progress; also gave you an idea of where you were.
>It was like a milestone, a really abrupt and painful one.
>“-and that’s why I don’t drink kale smoothies.”
>You froze up at the sound of a voice.
>The speaker was too close for comfort.
>Your portable brush was on the very edge of the bench, which meant she was likely sitting somewhere closer to the middle.
>Okay, don’t panic, you just had to wait her out.
>“Wow, that’s sorta why I don’t drink those too!”
>Shit, you were panicking!
>Of course there would be another mare.
>What kind of weirdo talked to themselves?
>Not you, and especially not when you were feeling horribly lonely on those long winter nights.
>These girls sounded awfully familiar.
>You leaned forward, trying your best not to make any noise.
>Ah, fuck.
>You’d recognize that awkward sitting pose anywhere.
>It was Lyra Heartstrings and Bon Bon; odds were you’d be here awhile.
>“Duh,” Lyra said. “you were there, remember?”
>“I was?” Bon Bon asked skeptically.
>“Positive!” Her friend nodded.
>Bon Bon perked up, her curls bouncing. “Did this happen at the-”
>“Green Corral? Yup, the one with the-”
>“Family of fat mules?”
>“Yeah! Well, that’s all of them; there was also-”
>“A talking dog!”
>“That was just a costume, but yeah, that one!”
>“You know me so well,” Bon bon gushed.
>“You know *me* so well!” Lyra replied gleefully.
>“There is *nothing* like a best friend, is there?” Bon Bon sighed.
>Her smile fell, replaced with a grimace, as she flicked her tail irritably.
>“Gosh,” she groaned. “speaking of bathroom disasters—I gotta take a leak.”
>Alright, great, they’d leave ahead of schedule to find a restroom.
>That went much better than expected.
>Wait, why was she coming over here?
>The outhouse was that…way.
>Oh no.
>No, no, no, no, no, no.
>This was definitely *not* your fetish!
>The mare backed into the growth, leaves crinkling and crunching under her plump bottom’s weight.
>She squatted, wiggling here and there until she was comfortable.
>Your were frozen stiff as you came face to face with her backdoor.
>Being peed on might be bad, but you didn’t even want to consider what would happen if you were discovered now.
>As her tail lifted, you scrambled away, no longer caring if your retreat was noisy.
>If Bon Bon heard you, she didn’t show it.
>She waved her tail to and fro and moaned contentedly as something akin to the sound of a garden hose filled your ears.
>Luckily this was a large bush, it was big enough to house you after all, but now a good chunk of it would become a hazard zone.
>“Bon Bon!” Lyra whispered. “What in Equestria are you doing?”
> Bon Bon whispered back. “Ssshhh, bathroom.”
>The safe zone wasn’t very safe as it turned out.
>A bit of sunlight filtered through the branches, unveiling glinting piss-water that reflected its meager glow; piss that was rapidly approaching you.
>“That’s bad for the plant!” Lyra protested, unaware of your frantic struggling.
>“What?” Bon Bon strained harder. “It’s fresh water.”
>A loud splash splattered to the ground, audible to anyone within earshot.
>How much liquid did these ponies fucking need anyhow?
>“No,” Lyra fussed. “I mean it’s bad for their auras or, um, was it chakras?”
>“Who told you that mumbo jumbo?”Bon Bon grunted.
>You found a spot that she wouldn’t reach.
>It was very confined and awkward; a twig kept stabbing your butt.
>“Only the most spiritual pony you’ll ever meet!”
>Thankfully it looked like the floodgates were closing, as Bon Bon and her cream coloured rump stood up.
>“Tree Hugger?” she guessed, trotting back towards the bench.
>“Tree Hugger!” Lyra confirmed.
>“Hey, why don’t we-”
>The ambiguously gay duo cantered off and out of sight.
>You wanted to feel relieved, but that was hard to do when a pony nearly relieved herself on you.
>Fucking Bon Bon.
>Fuck Lyra too, just because.

>Well, okay.
>It wasn’t the worst thing that’s happened to you since you left Earth, but it was easily up there.
>You wondered if Fluttershy would care if she knew someone else nabbed one of her top ten spots on that list.
>At least none of it got on you, but now you and your senses were surrounded by horse urine.
>There was just no way you could keep using this bush all the way to the cottage; at least it had a good run.
>You tossed your smelly, piss-stained camouflage the moment you found an alleyway.
>It would be painfully slow trying to reach the outskirts of Ponyville by snaking in and out of alleys, but you’d also be out of sight.
>For the most part, anyway.
>Ponies didn’t like these narrow passages for the very reason you were using them.
>No one would see you, nor hear, nor suspect you.
>“Yep! Just the two of us being super sneaky spies!”
“HOLY-SHIT-WHERE-THE-FUCK-DID-YOU-COME-FROM?”
>Pinkie Pie pinned her ears at the outburst, but was otherwise unfazed. “Keep it together Agent Oatmeal! Those gorillas could be anywhere, anytime!”
“W-wha- hell are you saying, Pinkie?”
>“Blue Waffle.”
“What?!”
>“My codename, Oatmeal!”
“Why do you need some codename?!”
>“‘Cause we’re spies!”
“No, we’re not!” you raised your voice.
>She was crawling beside you as the two of you turned a corner. “So we’re not extra special secret agents? Then what are we doing?”
“I’m trying not to be seen,” you whispered.
>“Oooh...Ninjas?”
“No, I *really* don’t want ponies looking at me right now.”
>“Why?” Pinkie asked, rubbing her chin. “Are you in on a dastardly plot to overthrow Princess Celestia?!”
>What?
“No!” you groaned. “I’m...naked.”
>Yours eyes widened, hands rushing to your crotch.
>Pinkie gasped, swaying her neck up and down. “Wowie! I’ve never seen you *naked*!”
>The hyperactive mare took a good long look at you, her eyeballs stretching and contracting as she soaked in your bare form.
>Freaky.
“Why don’t you take a picture?” you asked irritably. “It’ll last longer.”
>A bright, white flash blinded you.
“Agh!”
>Pinkie Pie put the camera back into her…
>Pocket?
>Who knew?
>Before you could recover, she brushed herself up against you.
>You were covered in sensitive goosebumps that tingled in delight at the furry contact.
>Pinkie’s fluffy tail tickled you all over.
>The curls surged along your bare thighs, pooling into your crotch.
>Her frizzy tresses were electric on your bare skin; they offered a titillating and teasing resistance against you as they swept up your chest and stimulated your nipples.
“Ssstop!” you moaned. “What're—hahaha—you doing?”
>Pinkie Pie reared up, her neck extending, as she nuzzled her snout into your collar. “I wanna know what you feel like!”
“Well, cut it out!” you scolded her. “Bad touch! Do not pass Go! Do not collect two hundred bits!”
>“Oh, oops.” Pinkie smiled sheepishly, nevertheless, bouncing with excitement.
>She could be as bad as Fluttershy when it came to “personal space”.
>Hm, maybe if you said “ponysonal” space.
>Okay, that was just stupid, but this place really did run on shit puns.
>You moved on ahead, Pinkie Pie still tailing you. “So what happened to your clothes?”
“Fluttershy happened.”
>“Garbage day?”
“Nope, laundry day.”
>Pinkie nodded sagely, her poofy mane bobbing with her. “You've got a real problem all right. Why dontcha have Rarity make more?”
“She’s been acting bitchy over my ‘uncouth treatment of clothes’,” you said in your best posh horse impression.
>Pinkie Pie hopped around you in circles. “Wait! *I* can help! ”
“Pinkie,” you sighed. “you can help by staying out of this.”
>She cocked her head. “Why? You wanna tackle this pickle all by yourself?”
You rolled you eyes. “No, I want you to alert the whole town and get me a hundred pair of new clothes by tomorrow.”
>Pinkie Pie was stunned.
>She plopped down onto her bottom, pondering your words.
>You took that moment to leave her in the dust.
>That girl ‘aint right.


>It felt like an eternity, but you finally reached Fluttershy’s cottage.
>You raised your fist to knock on the door when you heard chuckling from above.
You turned your gaze upward. “Rainbow Dash, how long’ve you been following me?”
>“Well, you know,” she said, putting a hoof to her chest. “I was just passin’ through, being my usual awesome self—she was napping—when I heard screaming—you woke her up—It sounded like a job for everypony’s favorite hero, so I zipped on over…Aaaannnnd I found you guys playing, I dunno, ninjas. How come you didn’t invite me?”
“And then you started stalking me.”
>“Ah, come on. It’s not everyday you ditch those lame clothes; I just *knew* you were up to something!”
“What’re you on about?”
>Rainbow Dash grinned.
>“I know what you’re up to.” She did loopty loops in the air, cackling. “No clothes, trying to be all sneaky, ditching Pinkie, and now, you’re at Fluttershy’s?”
>The pegasus crossed her forelegs smugly, busted.
>Or so she thought.
>Oh, hell no…
“It’s not what it looks like,” you shot back. “and mind your own business!
>Dash snorted. “Go get ‘er, champ.”
“Aaargh!”
>You ran into the cottage, slamming the door behind you.

>What awaited you was an awful sight not meant for mortal eyes.
>Only the dead could know peace from this evil.
>A family of rabbits was nestled in one of your old shirts.
>The fuzzballs were chewing away at it.
>You shooed them off, and picked up the tattered rag.
>Your nose twitched as it caught a very musky hay-like scent.
>Oh god, you could feel the crust of her dried up juices!
>The shirt fell to the floor.
>If you thought it salvageable before, you knew there was no saving it now.
>A couple of mutt dogs were playing tug of war with one of your boxers.
>Not with your lucky one, thankfully, but that didn’t make it any less horrifying.
>They were torn to shreds, completely ruined.
>You were at least hoping she’d look after them!
>A pair of pants resided on the tiny sofa.
>It seemed largely untouched; now you could stop running around in your birthday suit.
>You inched your hand closer, only to pull back at the sound of a loud, raspy hiss.
>A snake wriggled out of the top, nipping your withdrawing hand like an asshole.
>Fucking trouser snakes.
>Unfortunately, snakes that lived primarily in legwear were a thing in Equestria.
>You were nursing your wound, when you heard moaning upstairs.
>Fucking Fluttershy.
>It was time to confront that yellow slut.

>You stomped your way up the stairs, bumping your head several times.
>It really killed the moment, but what you could do?
>Her home was straight out of the Shire.
>The door to her room flung open.
>You stood there for a moment, glaring at the pegasus as you rubbed your aching head.
>Fluttershy was on her bed inserting an article of clothing into her sopping wet marehood.
>It was like she was a magician performing mouth coils except the mouth was her cunt and the coils were your FUCKING SWEATER.
>God damn, you liked that sweater too.
>She seemed surprised, but not fearful, almost smug.
>“Oh my, Anon~,” She crooned in an obviously practiced “seductive” voice. “You look so very handsome today.”
“Cut the crap!”
>She went back to schlicking, raising her brow. “Oh, I'm sorry. Am I interrupting? Were you enjoying the show?”
>Loud squelching accompanied the assault on your poor, soaked turtleneck.
“It’s gonna take fucking weeks to get the smell out.”
>Fluttershy pouted, pulling the sweater out of her pony pussy. “Listen here, mister! I’m doing us both a favor.”
“‘Favor’? You call this a favor?”
>“Well,” she said. “I’ve always had just a teeny tiny bit of trouble undressing you.”
>Very true.
>Whenever she came close to raping you, your clothes were always your last line of defense against the yellow menace.
>She just couldn’t do it with her mouth and wings, at least not before her plans fell apart.
>“But now, you’ve not only come to me,” Fluttershy said. “there’s nothing standing between our love!”
>She squeed.
You stomped your foot. “No! I want my damn clothes back! Especially my lucky boxers!”
>“Oh, you mean these?” Fluttershy giggled.
>A trio of mice scurried out of the bed, carrying your beloved pair of Lady Luck.
>They dropped them at her hooves, scattering off to do pooping, or eating, or whatever it was mice here did; probably shitting in your socks.
>Banana Hush clumsily put them on.
>They were way too big on her.
>She lifted her rump, presenting herself with the boxers stopping just below the tail.
>“Come and get it, big boy.”
>You spun around to see Angel blocking the entrance.
>He tapped his little rabbit foot impatiently, sneering at you with contempt.
>Right, like you were just going to go along with this.
>With trepidation, you approached her.
>She glanced back over her shoulder, wiggling her behind.
>Her long tail rose higher and higher as her marehood winked at you.
>You smacked her ass.
>She squeaked in delighted surprise.
>That’s it, keep leading her on.
>Her tail brushed the length of your legs, flicking your crotch very gently as it drooped back down to do it all over again.
>You shivered, doing your best to placate your anxiety, and arousal.
>With a flourish, you snatched the boxers right off her—well almost.
>It was snagged on a hoof.
“Let go!”
>The yellow pone was tugging the other way with all her might.
>*Rrrriiiiipppp!*
>Before you could change plans it tore, nearly in two.
“NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” You fell to your knees.
>Fluttershy looked ready to pounce when she saw the tears in your eyes.
>She trotted over to you. “Goodness! Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“Only on the inside,” you said shakily, trying to keep it together.
>Delicate hooves cradled your head, pulling you into the crook of Fluttershy’s neck.
>Her pink mane cushioned your cheeks as you sunk into her small warm body.
>“Sssssshhhhh.”
“I really liked those boxers.”
>She gently rocked you, only taking small breaks to stroke your hair.
>“If you want, I could make a new one.”
“You don't understand,” you sniffled.
>Your archenemy hummed, listening intently.
>You were losing it again.
>Were you going to spill your guts to her of all ponies?
“It was—was the pair I wore,” you wailed. “when I came here!”
>Full blown sobs wracked your body.
>That torn heap on the floor wasn't just any old piece of fabric.
>It was your last thread, the very last one, between you and the past!
>Still, you'd never imagined yourself crying over it.
>Feather tips whisked away your tears.
>Fluttershy pecked your cheek, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.
>In any other situation, this would be unwelcome, but it was just what your grief stricken self needed right now.
“Still feels like it was yesterday. I woke up one morning to my annoying ringtone. Someone was calling, I have an idea who, but I'd just missed them; what they wanted I'll never know. Small thing, but I've spent whole nights lying around and asking myself 'what if?', y'know? What if I'd been up to answer? What if I checked my voicemail before doing my morning routine? Would things've changed? Would I have a hundred more 'ifs' to ponder?”
>You sighed, as Fluttershy continued to rock you.
>Her alert eyes betrayed no disinterest in your tale.
“Anyway,” you continued. “I got up, took a shower, and threw on a fresh pair of boxers. When I left my bathroom, I walked straight into a library. It didn't take me long to see I wasn't in Kansas anymore, what with everything being so tiny, but that wasn't the worst of it. I had no phone, no wallet, and no clothing— none except the one you just tore.”
>“You came here naked?” Fluttershy asked, doing her very best to hide her excitement.
>Of course she would focus on that part.
“Almost naked,” you chuckled ruefully. “We were together through thick and thin, Lucky and I. Whenever things got too crazy or trying, I wore them as my shelter from the storm. They served as a reminder. A reminder that what came before existed; that I wasn’t crazy. And that I wasn't always, well, *this*.”
>Fluttershy patted your shoulder as you sighed deeply.
>She gave you another soft peck.
“Well, thanks for listening,” you said. “I think I’ll just…”
>You couldn't pull away.
>Was her grip always this tight?
>She was holding you possessively.
“Uh, could you let me go?”
>No answer.
>The pegasus breathed out through her flaring nostrils, rocking you more frantically as she smooched the top of your head.
>“Hush now,” she whispered. “momma will make you feel all better.”
>Code yellow!
>You tried to wrench free of her grasp, but to no avail.
>Was she always this strong?
>Fluttershy panted lustfully as she licked your ear. “I'm gonna kiss you, and fuck you, and kiss you until you're crying my name instead of that.”
>She pointed to your fallen comrade.
>God damnit.
>You shouldn’t have been surprised; give her an inch and she’d take, uh, however many inches your cock was.
>Which was a lot, by the way!
>Really!
>Fluttershy threw you onto her bed.
>A bed that was way too small for a grown ass man.
>You landed with a *pomf!* and realized that her lust addled brain forgot to use restraints.
>Not one to just lie there, you rolled to your right, unceremoniously falling out of the bed.
>Fluttershy dived at you, and bumped her head for her troubles.
>You bounded over Angel, tripped, and tumbled down the stairs.
>Dusting yourself off, you scanned the cottage for something to wear.
>But the only intact thing you could find was a pair of pants.
>You put them on, taking a few steps forward when it dawned on you.
>Wait…
>Oh no.
>You stood still, dead silent, as a cold, scaly, writhing, thing wrapped around your thigh and knee.
>Ah shit.
>That gave Fluttershy just enough time to catch up.
>She slowly approached, wings outstretched. “Those pants won’t protect you forever. Nopony’s coming, it’s just me and you, and all my cute little friends.”
“Fluttershy, I’m really not stalling here when I say you don’t want to mess with my pants.”
>You shuddered as your scaly companion slithered all over you.
>Lucky you hadn’t been bitten on the dick, yet.
>“Oh? Why’s that?”
“There’s a snake in my trousers.”
>Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. “How naughty, let’s say hello~.”
>This would end well.
>She slowly and carefully unzipped it with her teeth.
>The little pony licked her lips, her eyes filled with lust as they peered up at you.
>The snake lunged, biting her right on the snout.
>“EEEEP!”
>It wrapped around her neck as she backpedaled all around the room.
>Zipping up your snake-free pants, you sprinted out of the cottage.
>Great, so you got one pair of pants out of this.
>It turned out Laundry Day was just a ploy so you would end up…
>You pulled out a pair of shades from your pocket.
>…Fucking Fluttershy.

>A day had passed since you uncovered the horrors of Laundry Day.
>You were holed up in your home, trying to come to terms with the idea that you may have to live life as a nudist from now on, or at least mostly naked.
>There was a knock on your door.
>Fluttershy was hanging her head. “Anon, I’m sorry. I never knew your clothes meant so much to you.”
>She gulped, and used a wing to dig around in her saddlebag. “So I’m here to return them.”
“Really?”
>She nodded
>From out of her bag, she brought out…
>One sock.
“Thank you, and…,” you prompted her.
>Fluttershy smiled weakly, ducking her head. “That’s, um, everything?”
“WHAT?”
>“Please don’t be mad! Pretty please? I know you wanted more, but I couldn’t return the others on good conscience. They were just so tattered, a-a-and completely ripped to shreds!”
>Gee, you wondered how that happened.
“Yeah, yeah, thanks.” you snatched the sock away.

>You were about to slam the door on her, when a pink hoof stopped it in the knick of time.
>“Hold on, buddy ol’ pal!”
>The door flung wide open to reveal none other than Pinkie Pie bouncing on your patio.
>“Look what I haaaaave~.” She dramatically motioned to her left.
“Oh my god,” you whispered in awe.
>Half the town was lined up, carrying all manner of boxes.
>They were filled to brim with clothes, clothes your size.
>“We all pitched in, and ordered some clothes for you.”
“How many? This is amazing!”
>“One hundred!”
>Whoa.
“Sounds expensive,” you said. “How’d you convince all these ponies to help out?”
>Pinkie Pie giggled, producing a newspaper. “Easy peasy!”
>Your heart sank to your stomach.
>There were several pictures on the cover, of you, exposed and in the bluff.
>Worst of all, one of them featured your bedroom confrontation with Fluttershy.
>How’d she get this one?
>It was probably taken from a window…
>Fucking Dash.
>Worst of all, the headline read: “SUPPORT PONYVILLE’S NEWLY ENGAGED COUPLE!”
>Your nemesis was intently reading her own copy, uh oh.
>Fluttershy peeked up from her newspaper, her eyes meeting yours.
“W-wait,” you cried desperately. “No no no no!”
>She squeed and tackle-hugged you.
>Pinkie Pie clopped her hooves together. “Oh, I have to throw you guys a *big* party! It’ll be called-”
“We’re not marrying!” you growled, prying Fluttershy off you.
>“Weeellll, if you guys *aren’t* we’re gonna have to return all this stuff.”
“B-b-but!” You stepped back, shuddering. “Can’t you just, y’know, lie to ‘em?”
>Pinkie shook her head. “Nope! Pinkie Pie does not lie, no siree!”
>It looked like if you want to keep the clothes you’d have to be…
>Fucking Fluttershy.
>If not, you’d be naked —you looked down at the sock— or at least mostly naked, for the rest of your life.
>All thanks to…
>Fucking Pinkie Pie!

*Epilogue*
>You still hadn't made a decision.
>What could you say?
>No one made decisions on an empty stomach; not anyone that mattered anyway.
>So you shooed everyone away from the house and asked for forty eight hours.
>That was five hours ago.
>A loud shattering sound broke you out of your thoughts.
>You ran to the scene of the crime, peering out your destroyed window.
“You little brats!” you yelled.
>Those damned kids took off, galloping away as if you didn't know each and every one of their parents.
>You were inspecting their baseball when you heard something upstairs.
“Come on out!” you snarled, as you stormed into the bedroom.
>No one.
>No one except for a fucking flock of colorful birds sitting around a package.
>They must have carried it in.
>You glanced over to your bedroom window.
>It was absolutely demolished, as if someone had torn an entire chunk off your wall.
>What were these birds made of?
>Not even those foals had wrecked the other one that badly.
>They took off as you reached for their present, but not before leaving “presents” of their own.
>This had better be something good.
>And it was, you couldn't stop yourself from trembling as you held up your dear treasure.
>They were still a little worse for wear, but now your lucky boxers could at least be worn without falling apart.
>She had mended them, and you could just barely make out the scars of her thread work.
>You picked up the scroll that came with them, unrolling it.
>“*Dear Anon,*”
>“*I know things have been scary and tough for you lately. I couldn't bear the thought of you all alone, so I thought I’d give you “somepony” to keep you company. I wish that somepony could be me, and I just know someway—someday it will, but I haven't done enough to earn that trust.*”
>That was an understatement.
>“*When you put them on, I hope you not only think of your old home, but also of me. No matter what decision you come to on our wedding, I want you to enjoy them. Just as I’ll enjoy taking them off-*”
>You rolled the scroll back up tightly.
>The rest didn't look like it’d be very endearing, and you wanted to like Fluttershy.
>But only for now.
>After all, growing to like her in the long term might make you do something crazy like go through with that engagement, and that meant…
>Fucking Flu-
>BANG!
>The sound of glass clinking to the floor echoed throughout your home.
>You rushed downstairs to find another broken window.
“What are you doing, Pinkie?!”
>“Aw, lighten up,” she said. “can't you appreciate a running gag?”
>You simply stared at her.
>And Pinkie stared back at you.
>She promptly broke another window.
>You were too mad to remember how to form words, electing instead to ramble incoherently.
>Fucking foals, er, Fluttershy, er Pi-
>Fuck it.
>Fuck everypony!