of fillies and grown men

>Be anon.

>You sit down on your couch and stare at the blank screen in contemplation.

>You are the most powerful person in your territories in the nearby city; you have women, money, and the aforementioned power.  You're a regular Gary Stu.

>You fucking wish; in reality, you have a menial job that hasn't managed to be automated yet and you live by yourself with your pet flower.

>Your flower has been dead for 2 years.

>Hear a knock at the door.

>You get up to get it.

>You're almost at the door.

>You're in the process of grabbing the knob to begin the opening process.

>It's boring.

>Anyways, you open the door to find nothing at your eye-level.

>Being paranoid of things biting your ankles, you always check the floor for snakes and the like.

>You find a little winged unicorn?  Horned pegasus?  Whatever.

>It's eyes are a pretty magenta and it has a rainbow mane that defies gravity, it actually goes together quite well with it's white coat.

>You are simultaneously glad that it's not something that looks like it would bite you and also freaking the fuck out at what you see.

>Being manly, you try to run off while keeping the creature away from you.

>You somehow manage to slam your foot in the door, tripping yourself and causing your head to hit the corner of your staircase.  Your architect was shit.

 

>You wake up at the foot of your couch a few feet from your staircase, the door is open and your clothes are rolled up in a very uncomfortable way that indicates bunching up; you were dragged to your current location.

>Also, your right shoe isn't on and the sock is halfway off; it feels fucking weird.

>You hear shuffling on your couch.  The little horse's head pops into view.  Her stare is morbid.

"Hey, I'm glad you're awake mister."

>You're just glad that this thing didn't try to eat you like you heard dogs do.

>Luckily, a similar experience with a foreign child leaves you with experience in this and prevents you from urinating like the last time something like this happened.

>The little horse stares at you.  You should probably say something.

"Hey, uhh, what are yo- I mean . . . what's your name?"

>The little horse smiles.  She doesn't have all of her permanent teeth yet, as evidenced by the teeth absent in the cutest possible locations.

"My name's Celestia."

"I'm anonymous."

"Hey anonay-, anone-, anon.  Is it okay if I sleep here with you, it's cold outside . . . and scary."

While you don't think you could say no, you decide to consult with the voices that occasionally give you advice . . . a majority of it pertaining to faggotry, but occasionally you hear some gold.

What do, /mlp/?

 

>The voices give inane comments about rape and ballerinas.

>The same shit you're used to hearing.

>You see that the little horse has started to pout, her eyes appearing larger than they already were with her front hooves hanging off the side of your couch.

>You give up.

"Sure, do you mind sleeping on the couch?"

>The little horse perks up slightly.

"I'm used to sleeping with my sister.  Since she's not here, can I sleep in your bed with you?"

>God damnit.

"Uh, sure.  Um, are you hungry or something?"

>The horse delves into her mind for a moment.  It's not very deep given her age.

"I'm not allowed to eat or drink stuff before bed.  My sister get's mad whenever I wet the bed."

>This horse better not fucking piss on you.  Only you are allowed to piss in your bed!

>With that thought, you're glad that no one except you and the voices heard that; atleast the voices can't do anything.

>With that settled, you go back to thinking about the current situation.  You feel a chill.

>Looking to the door, you realize that it's still open; you get up and close it after thinking you saw Slenderman or some shit.

>You remove the sock that's halfway on your foot.

"So, why'd you take my shoe off?"

>Celestia looks puzzled for a moment.

"I was dragging you in here to practice nurse on you, but you didn't have any band-aids," Celestia frowned.

>So the horse's mouth was on your shoe.

>Gross.

>You're going to need to figure out how this thing exists in a minute.

>For now, however, you're content to tell Celestia to watch The Colbert Report while you clean your shoe.

 

>Be shoe.

>Getting scrubbed.

>You're one clean motherfucking shoe.

>Too bad shoes aren't sentient.

>Be anon.

>Be glad you got the horse saliva off your shoe.

>You walk back into your living room containing your couch with a horse on it.

>Celestia had managed to accidentally change the channel by knocking your remote to the ground.  It was in pieces.

>Technically, the battery cover and batteries were pieces.

>You reassemble the remote and sit down next to Celestia and decide to finally take notice of what she had changed the channel to.

>Filly Funtasia was on; you'd never understand why so many older guys watch this show.  You don't understand the sex appeal they always talk about.

>Your lying, you know you'd fuck those horses if given half a chance.  You accidentally glance at Celestia while thinking this.  She notices and smiles back.

>One of the voices in your head starts talking about rape.  You ignore it and change the channel.

"So, how'd you get here?"

>Celestia thinks for a moment.

"I was playing with Mr. Starswirl's books with Luna and we accidentally opened a portal and it sucked me up."

>She seemed to think that this sounded perfectly normal.

"Number one; who is Luna and Starswirl?  Number two, how did you make a portal?"

"Umm, Luna's my sister and Starswirl is my teacher person.  I don't know how I made the portal though, he hasn't taught us about them yet," she looked down at the couch in shame.

"Don't feel bad, I'll help you get back."

"Promise?"

"Sure."

>She yawns and with science saying that yawns are contagious, you yawn as well.

>You get up to go to bed and Celestia follows you.

>Your architect only put one bathroom on the bottom floor.  Your room is on the second.

>Fuck brushing your teeth.  You don't think horses even brush their teeth.

>You start climbing the stairs and reach the top in a matter of seconds.

>Wondering where the horse was, you look down to see her scaling the steps awkwardly like a dog.

>It's fucking adorable.

>You walk down and pick her up with your right hand, despite the fact that you kind of wanted to watch her scale them by herself.

"Your hands are cold."

>You don't have very good blood flow; you even need viagra to masturbate.  Now you're sad.

>Celestia notices this.

"You're really nice.  I'm glad I found you."

>You can't help but feel a little better.

>You're proud to say that you keep your room clean.  It's not very hard considering your minimalist lifestyle.

>It's a bed, a closet, and a laptop at a desk.

>You wonder if it would be okay if you slept with just your underwear on like you usually do, your one pair of pajamas fucking strangle you like a xenophobic foreigner whenever you sleep in them.

What do, /mlp/?

 

>Fuck it, it's not like you can get hard and cause an awkward "What's that?" anyways.

>You pull back your covers and plop Celestia down.

"Oomph," is her reply.

>You take off your shirt and pants.  You hated the way your pants squeeze your crotch.

>You may as well blame your penile disfunction on them even though its probably not true.

>You slide into bed in naught but your underwear.

>Celestia puts her hooves on your bare chest out of curiousity.

"You're hairy."

"You're one to talk."

>She giggles at that.

>Time for sleep.  Maybe you'll get some lucid dreaming in and kill some astral sharks or some shit.

>Celestia notices your going to sleep.

"Nooo."

"What?"

"Tell me a story."

>Really?

*sigh "Fine.  What kind of story?"

"A scary story," she says, fluttering in the air slightly.

>Wtf, she was yawning five minutes ago.  You don't think she's heard many scary stories and is using you to get this coveted bedtime treat.

>You start telling her the story of the headless horseman, but she doesn't know what a horseman is and you get frustrated.

"Just go to sleep and I'll show you a story on the T.V. tomorrow."

>American parenting 101

>Celestia agrees, the excitement she had shown minutes ago draining her.

>This horse is fucking warm.  She's currently curled up into your left ribs like a fucking dog and even your underwear is starting to get sweaty.

>You carefully move her to your other side and eventually go to sleep.

 

The end . . .

Until next chapter.