Drugs tho

---Disclaimer: This story does not have a proper ending. I am not sure if/when I'll continue it---

>Be Anon
>Be rich as fuck CEO of a startup located in San Francisco
>Making more green than you know what to do with
>You’d just woken up to a throbbing headache following a Pon-E blackout
>You’re not sure around what time the blackout hit, but by this point you’d experienced them frequently enough to know the process like the back of your hoo- er, hand.
>Take the pill, have an amazing trip as Sunflower, blackout, wake-up feeling like utter death, and somehow fumble your way into the office on time.
>Only problem was, today was different
>You’d been asleep way past when you usually woke up, and you had a meeting in less than an hour.
>Crap
>Well fuck it, you’ll just skip the shower this morning and just douse yourself in cologne and deodorant
>You do your best to rub the sleep from your eyes, slightly off-put by the return of hands, before weakly tottering your way into the restroom to run through your morning routine.
>You’ve been an avid pon-e user for a good while now.
>4-5 times a week on average.
>Not like the price of pills made a dent in your wallet, shit was pennies for you. So naturally you were stocked for decades.
>It’s funny to think, you were never a fan of the show.
>Hell, you’re not sure why you started taking the drug to begin with
>You suppose somewhere along the line of success you began choosing work over relationships.
>It was exhilarating at the time, but its long term effects left you a lonely, rich, shut-in.
>A shut-in that spent most of his evening frolicking about his penthouse as a little mare to cope with it all.
>Oh well, if it took away that empty feeling if only for 12 hours, you’d take it.
>It’s been about 45 minutes since you initially woke up this morning and you’re just now sat down in the conference room of your office building.
>Waiting for an “important” video call with some “big wigs” that were trying to convince you to open up your company for public trade.
>You were opposed at first, but slowly you’ve lost interest in caring.
>To be honest, you really had a hard time caring about anything at all at this point.
>Nothing mattered because anything and everything could be yours at a moment’s notice.
>The world in the frog of your hoo- uh, palm of your hand.
>A condescending member of the 1% completely void of emotion.
>You lazily twirl a pen around your fingers while you and your associates wait for the call to come through.
>”Are you feeling alright today Mr. Anon?”
>Someone from across the conference table reels your attention.
“Uhh, yeah. Why?”
>”Well you seem a bit, well, out of it. Visually, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”
“Oh. Oh yeah. Nights have been a bit rough lately. Haven’t gotten much sleep because I.. uh. I’ve been… I’ve had so much anxiety about this meeting, uh, today.”
>Jesus christ why was that so difficult to spit out?
>”Alright, just checking in. I’d hate for you to be out this upcoming week. If this deal goes through, 7we’ll be doing a loooot of restructuring.”
>Ffffffuuuuuuck.
>You didn’t take that into consideration.
>All the papers you’ll have to sign.
>All the lectures and meetings.
>God dammit.
>Looks like you’ll be spending some extra time as Sunflower this week.
>...
>Why couldn’t you just be addicted to something simple like weed? Or heroine?
>The day passes agonizingly slow.
>Eventually the meeting ends in applause as the final arrangements were made with your half hearted approval.
>Pay raises.
>More jobs.
>More money.
>And you couldn’t give less of a shit.
>You finally find yourself stepping through the door of your penthouse, taking in the aroma of horse fur and the faint hint of spaghetti sauce.
>With little thought, you make your way over to the medicine cabinet in your bathroom and grab one of the many bottles that house your pon-e pills.
>You swallow one carelessly before walking to the sofa and plopping yourself down.
>Generally you’d eat before starting a trip as Sunflower was often having too much fun to think about food, but you didn’t care to this evening.
>You just wanted to be Sunflower as fast as possible.
>After a good couple minutes of waiting, the transformation starts to run through its normal routine.
>Your fingers mold together a-- ah fuck it you’ve all heard this once or twice before. No need to reiterate the process.
>You eventually find yourself lying limp on your side as you fully take on the physical form of your beloved Sunflower.
>Happiest (and undoubtedly the prettiest) mare this side of the Mississippi.
>Except this evening, she, or rather you, weren’t feeling happy like normal.
>What gives?
>Usually once the transformation is complete, you’re bounding about the place like a jumping bean.
>Maybe the stress was too much for even your pony self to ignore?
>Or maybe it was the prospect of having to do it all over again?
>Couldn’t you just, stay like this?
>You grip your head between your hooves.
>Bad Sunfl- err, fuck!
>Anon!
>No!
>Overdosing would ruin everything.
>What would even happen if they found you like this?
>Would you go to like, jail or something? You know, for like.. doing an illegal drug?
>Where do they even take overdose victims?
>Oh well, doesn’t matter. You promised yourself you would do this just as a means of coping.
>It’s not a lifestyle, just a stress reliever.
>Since you seem to be void of your normal pony energy, you elect to just veg out and watch some netflix.
>A relatively simple activity that could easily be done as a human, but infinitely more enjoyable as a pone.
>You drag a blanket over to your spot on the sofa and drape it over yourself.
>You curl your smol little pony body up beneath the safety of your blanket before addressing the TV.
“Xbox, go to netflix” you command, your voice now soft and dainty in contrast to your human one.
>You learned rather fast that there was no way to efficiently use a remote with hooves, so in your spare time you went out and bought an Xbone for just such an occasion.
-----
>You easily waste a couple hours watching the Grey’s Anatomy playlist.
>Normally you’d roll your eyes at this show, but your amplified mare emotions made you a sucker for all the cheap drama.
>Whatever passes the time you suppose.
>It’s strange, you were never this bored when you were on a trip.
>What gives?
>Sure you’d spent a few trips just watching TV all night, but even then you were so immersed it hardly felt like you were doing nothing.
>Ugh.
>You sit in thought for a few quiet minutes before an idea hits you.
>Alcohol.
>You know it was part of the “rules” or something. To never drink it while on a trip.
>But honestly, what could happen?
>You pony-proofed the penthouse so you physically couldn’t leave or do anything stupid while you were a pony.
>If being drunk just caused a more intense blackout, then who cares?
>Satisfied with your justification, you totter over to the fridge and nab a beer.
>You pop it open with the bottle opener beneath the sink and take a whiff.
>Oof.
>That does not at all smell good to your pony nose.
>Oh well, it’s not about the taste… right?
>You take the largest swig you can before you start coughing and hacking, dropping the beer bottle on the floor.
>Its contents spill as the bottle shatters.
>Wow. You were expecting something nasty, but you weren’t expecting that type of nasty.
>It felt like you were drinking bleach.
>Your insides burned.
>You felt like you should be worried, panicked even, but an unexpected calmness almost instantly falls over you.
>Whoa.
>That hit way too fast.
>Too dazed to care about the mess on the floor, you drag yourself back over to the sofa.
>You attempt to hop back up onto the cushions, but your lack of coordination just rewards you with numerous falls to the ground.
>You eventually give up and settle for curling up under the coffee table.
>Holy wow were you out of it.
>You’d hardly taken a human sized sip and here you were, feeling just short of being shitfaced.
>Pony livers must be the size of a pebble or something, jesus.
>The night passes with varying consciousness.
>You remember doing some things, and others you might as well have been sleep walking.
>Either way, you’re pretty sure you had fun.
>But soon enough, it all comes to an end when you succumb to yet another blackout.
>A black, dreamless void. Absent of any emotion or thought.
>Almost like being put under by anesthesia, you find yourself waking up after what felt like not even 2 seconds after blacking out.
>Normally, you’d stretch and groan your pain away, but oddly enough the headache wasn’t there this morning.
>Huh, that’s different.
>Maybe alcohol has some sort of counter-effect to the pon-e blackouts?
>Eh, who knows. You’re not going to question it, that’s for sure.
>All that matters is that, as far as you’re concerned, last night ruled.
>A little smile creeps across your face as you recall all the memories that were still there.
>Most of it was a haze, but the happiness was very much embedded into your mind.
>That happiness quickly fades, though, as you catch sight of the clock.
>Work in 30 minutes.
>Of course.
>You stretch out your limbs with a prolonged yawn before being ready to stand and start your morning routine.
>Except for some reason your limbs won’t cooperate.
>You’re able to move them, but all they-
>Wait.
>You quickly shoot a glance downward to catch a glimpse of the rest of your body.
>Your stomach sinks.
>Oh no.
>Oh no no no.
>You look back toward the clock to make sure you weren’t still in the 12 hour duration of the trip.
>Nope, you read it correctly the first time.
>You were well passed the 12 hour mark.
>You should be a human now.
>Did the alcohol extend the effects or something?
>Your mind scrambles for an answer, and frantically your bring yourself to your hooves and start searching the apartment for any clues.
>Nothing was really out of the ordinary.
>The beer was still on the kitchen floor.
>There was a mess near the pantry that was probably made while trying to get a snack you don’t remember eating.
>But nothing was any different than it was before you blacked out.
>You eventually give up trying to search for an answer and elect to just wait it out.
>This has to be the alcohol.
>Nothing else could have caused this.
>So… hopefully it would just a little longer and you’d change back later today?
>This means you’d have to tell the office you weren’t coming in today.
>And considering this was an extremely important week for your company, being absent for even a day might just cause chaos.
>But you didn’t really have any other option, did you?
>You sigh in defeat and trot to the restroom.
>Oddly enough, of all the times you’d taken pon-e, you’ve never had to relieve yourself as a mare before.
>This should be interesting.
>You push the door to the restroom open and start walking toward the toilet when something below your hooves causes you to slip.
>You shriek in surprise as you lose your traction and faceplant into the edge of the bathtub.
>Well if you didn’t have a headache earlier, you sure as hell have one now.
>With a couple involuntary tears having fallen from your eyes, your raise yourself back to your hooves and turn to see what caused your tumble.
>And what you see makes your heart stop.
>Pon-e pills.
>All littered along the bathroom floor.
>You stare blankly at the pills, and slowly, memories of last night start coming back to you.
>You remember getting unbearably sad halfway through your trip, another one of those dysphoric pony fits.
>But this time you weren’t sober.
>You lacked the self restraint you usually had.
>And in a drunken frenzy, you went to go grab a second pon-e pill to make it stop.
>You pony proofed your medicine cabinet though, so something like this could never happen.
>It was too tall for you to reach and it had a button that you couldn’t access with hooves.
>But apparently you were determined last night.
>You remember extending your wings and giving a strong flap to lunge you up onto the bathroom counter.
>You always assumed these things were just for show…
>Then after failing to open the cabinet with your hooves, you turned around and bucked as hard as you could.
>The cabinet’s door cracked in half and you were able to reach in and grab the bottle.
>From that point on the rest is history.
>Your breathing almost completely halts as you fall to your haunches in disbelief.
>There’s no way that happened.
>That must have been a dream.
>THIS has to be a dream!
>Even as a pony you thought you knew better.
>You knew the consequences of taking a second pill.
>Biting your quivering lower lip, you close your eyes to hold back tears.
>You were actually that stupid.
>And now this was you.
>A pitiful little pegasus mare, sobbing on the floor of her former human bathroom.
>You couldn’t even bear to think about what would happen to you from this point.
>Any ounce of optimism, hope, or happiness you had was gone.
>You slid yourself back down to your stomach and laid there.
>A long bout of eerie stillness passes before you eventually breakdown into miserable sobs.
>Taking frantic, shallow breaths as tears drenched the fur on your face.
>You begged for someone to wake you up, but you knew you only had yourself to blame, and now you'd have to suffer the consequences of one stupid, drunk decision for the rest of your entire life.
>The thought made you nauseous.
------

>You spent the past few hours lying motionless in your spot on the bathroom floor.
>You weren’t sure what else to do, who to talk to, or who to call for help.
>You were exhausted from all the crying, and all you could honestly manage at this point was to just do nothing.
>There were a few times you’d heard your phone ring, but you made no effort to answer, or see who called.
>You figured it was probably the office calling to ask where the hell you were.
>Even if you’d answered, no one would have believed it was actually you, given your the softness of your voice.
>You drape your hooves over your eyes and give a deep sigh.
>Anon, you fucking idiot.
>This could have easily been avoided.
>All of this.
>After wallowing in your depression for a little longer, you decide it might be more comfortable to loathe yourself in the safety of your bed.
>You pick yourself back up from the floor and begin making your way to your bedroom.
>You’re trotting through the living room when your phone on the coffee table starts to ring again.
>Curiosity gets the better of you, and you turn around to glance at the screen.
>”Mom”
>Oh fucking christ.
>Now you wish it were just the office.
>How the hell were you going to explain this to her?
>Were you ever going to get the chance?
>You know, before someone finds you like this and hauls you off to god knows where.
>Your efforts to not think about the future aren’t proving very effective.
>You stare at the screen until the call goes to voicemail and the ringing stops.
>There’s a little feeling of guilt when you see a follow-up text that reads “Please pick up”
>The phone then starts to ring again.
>You weren’t sure what you were thinking, or if you were thinking at all, but you use your nose to slide up on the screen and answer the call.
>The air is still as you try to work up the courage to say something.
>But before you had the chance, your mother speaks up from the other end.
>”....Hello? Anon?”
>Reflexively, you answer her, forgetting to consider your change in voice.
“Uh, h-hi mom.”
>There’s a small bout of silence.
>”Who is this?” She asks, suspicion coloring her tone.
“This is… A-Anon?”
>You don’t even sound a little bit sure of yourself.
>”Listen young lady, I don’t know who you are but this is important. Please put Anon on the phone.”
“He’s uh, not… here.”
>”What are you talking abo-”
>In a moment of panic you hang up the phone.
>What were you thinking!?
>Of course she wasn’t going to know it was you!
>You lift your rear in anger and buck the coffee table.
>The wood splits a bit as the table slides a few feet across the living room floor.
>Your own mother!
>The one person that still gave a shit about you.
>The only person that loved you...
>And now you’ve probably lost her too.
>Again, you find yourself falling to your haunches in defeat.
>What were gonna do?
>Show up at her doorstep as a little pegasus mare and expect her to believe you when you tell her you’re her son?
>Yeah, that’ll work out perfectly.
>You squeeze your head between your forehooves.
>This reality was too fucked up to accept.
>You couldn’t stand to live without answers anymore.
>It hasn’t even been a day and you’re already going insane.
>There’s noone here to comfort or reassure you.
>Nothing to tell you where to go or what to do.
>You’d lived alone for so long, but you just couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t be alone through this.
>The silence and the unknown were too much to bear.
>You needed someone.
>Anyone.
>Without rational thought, you unlocked your phone and dialed 911.
>When the operator answered you tried to tell her what was wrong, but the moment you opened your mouth you started bawling.
>She tried to ask you what had happened, and begged for you to calm down enough for her to understand what you were saying.
>But you had spiralled into hysterics, and couldn’t muster any intelligible sentences.
>It was all pitiful, child-like sobs.
>You were able to spit out a few words though, like “overdosed” and “help me”.
>Those apparently seemed to be enough, as she quickly said she dispatched some responders your way and asked that you to stay on the line until they arrived.
>It was odd, but you were comforted by it.
>Despite what could happen to you, you knew that you wouldn’t be alone.
>You knew they’d take you.
>And who knows, maybe they could fix you.
>Even if they couldn’t, you still wouldn’t be alone.
>Minutes slowly pass, but eventually, loud, firm knocks rattle your ears from the front door.

-------

>What followed was about what you expected.
>The responders entered your home and went through the whole process as if it were routine.
>Checking your vitals, asking you questions (which you were hardly able to answer through your panicked shaking), and eventually they ended up tossing you into a fucking dog kennel while they waited for a vet to check you out.
>Yes, a vet.
>Not a doctor, a god damn veterinarian.
>Your hopes of still being recognized as an ordinary citizen had quickly faded after that.
>You’d probably have more to say about the whole situation if you weren’t already so emotionally and physically drained.
>It was about as demeaning as it possibly could be, but at this point you had stopped caring.
>You just assumed your body was pretty much government property now, and whatever happened from hereon was just the result of your one idiot decision.
>After getting checked out by the veterinarian, he gave you a couple shots in the flank and sent you off in what looked to be an animal control van.
>You wish you were kidding.
>And well, that’s basically where you were now.
>Curled up in a relatively small kennel in the back of a van meant for lost, rabid dogs.
>All because you decided regularly taking a pill that turned you into a horse for 12 hours was the most therapeutic thing for your “oh so lonely” life.
>You lazily roll your eyes at yourself and release a small sigh.
>The ride is longer than you expected it to be, to the point where your cage was starting to make you feel extremely claustrophobic.
>You weren’t sure if it was your exhaustion, or some newfound pony instinct, but you eventually lost your cool and began releasing loud, pitiful whines.
>You can’t say that you knew why you were whining, or what you expected to gain in return, but you were a little more saddened by being ignored than you should have been.
>There was no doubt the driver heard you…
>The ride lasts for another 30 or so minutes before you feel the driver make a few turns and eventually come to a stop.
>Voices exchange greetings as the driver exits, and thankfully, after what seemed like an eternity in the back of this stupid van, the rear doors open you’re met a couple new faces.
>”Oh, a mare?” Asks a lady who seemed to be dressed in a doctor’s lab coat.
>Probably just another vet.
>”Yup,” You hear the driver’s gravely voice respond. “Vitals checked out, shots already given.”
>”Great! That should make things a lot easier.”
>The lady steps into the van and kneels down next to your kennel.
>You aren’t sure why, but you sink under her gaze as she peers in.
>She wears a very genuine look, offering you a soft smile when you accidently make eye contact.
>”It’s alright, sweetheart” She assures in a motherly tone. “We don’t often receive mares, forgive my curiosity.”
>Your tenseness visibly eases as she speaks.
>Like someone had lathered you in a relaxing voice blanket.
>”If it’s alright with you, I’d like to bring you inside? You’ll get a room to yourself and I promise it’ll be super comfy.”
>You had no idea what she was talking about, but heck, you probably had very little say in the matter anyway.
>You nod.
>”Good” She gives you another smile before opening up your god forsaken kennel.
>She reaches her arms in and wraps them around you, then with little effort hoists you from the cage and rests your upper half on her shoulder as her other arm is placed firmly beneath your rump to keep you securely pressed against her.
>Oh good christ you could fall asleep right now.
>Just her presence alone was enough to send relaxed tingles down your spine.
>You unintentionally bury your muzzle into the side of her neck to hide your face from the sunlight beneath her long hair.
>”Awhahaa, and a snuggler too. You’ll fit right in.”
>It’s funny to think, but your human self easily trumped this woman’s height.
>And now here you were, being carted into some unknown building with this lady holding you like one might a toddler.
>This whole situation was brewing a storm of curiosity a sea of questions, but honestly your exhaustion was starting to get the better of you.
>That, and this lady was actually the living depiction of an asmr video.
>Eventually, your reliance had weakened to the point where fighting it was useless, and you quickly began nodding off in her embrace.