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Human becomes pony. How, why and what happens next are all up to you. New stories and art welcome!
Any type of transformation into ponies, dragons, gryphons, changelings, draconequus, etc., whether OC or canonical, & Anonponies of all shapes and sizes.
Want to be the little pony? This is the thread for you.

Recently updated stories:

Too Many Pinkies Plus One by Yuri Fanatic - New & Complete

Don't Let the Bedbats Bite by alCROWholic - New & Complete

That Particular Instance I Performed Metempsychosis As An Equine Named After A Piece Of Silverware by Yuri Fanatic:

Stampede ULTRA! by Alycorn:

Petstore by ReMastering:

PTFG CYOA by ReMastering:

Selfish by Mayro - Complete

Anonfilly Emotionally Rapes Futa Moon Dancer by Yuri Fanatic - Complete

Ponid-69 by Ponefluff - Complete

SCP-P0N3 by Mayro - Complete

PTFG Thread TF by Ponefluff:

Under A Violet Moon by Ponefluff:

Archive of over 555 stories, as well as additional links and materials:
Past threads index:
Unrated TF image dump thread:

Below are some suggested writing prompts.

>Hoofers: You're down on your luck, face it, these days who isn't but you see a help wanted ad from a new restaurant that's supposed to be opening soon called hoofers. Thinking nothing of it you apply and get an email back saying your training would be on sunday for your first shift on monday.

>Discord's Paw: Your wish is granted, and you finally get to be turned into a pony. That said it comes with some kind of consequence you didn't intend.

>Collared: your boss offers you a paid vacation in the place of your dreams, but you soon find out while having fun that he's in the market for a new pet and you're in his sights.

>Intersection: they made you into one of them. Hiding under beds and in closets, you strike when sleep takes them. The lucky ones get off with a stopped heart, the rest are dragged back to the sprawling complexes to be turned into more of you.

>Stray: you find out the hard way that there's a price for laughing at people when a deranged scientist breaks into your house and you awaken in a grimy alley with no food, no direction, and considerably fewer fingers. Making it out of the city seems hopeless, but maybe you can find someone nice to take care of you while you figure things out?

Previous Thread:
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>vaguely tf-tangential or anonfilly-related
Every pony pic is a post tf pic if you think hard enough especially ones with mirrors
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I was threatened into posting here. So now I will say: post more mare to human TF
>tfw addicted to filly
>barely able to focus
>feel no joy unless you got your fix
>spend all your money on those happy little, little ponies

>get offered a way to have filly forever
>Spend what little you have left
>Give 2 pills by the filly zoo operator
>People who self-medicate with pon-e always overdose though
>They feel "cured", stuck in that high
>...only after several weeks do you see people start becoming "more like themselves"...
>That childlike glee is gone again... but now... you still have your hooves
>so you just take another, already a pone
>tfw you take one pon-e pill a week as your anti-depressant
>gets sick with Covid
>doesn't trust fake news
>take the true cure, Ivermectin
>falls asleep
>struggles getting out of bed
>help, am pone now
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>turn people into stallions, no mares
>create free cuddle therapy pony farm for wayward femcels
>charge the insurance companies instead of the clients, like with COVID shots
>rake in millions while simultaneously preying on lonely women, pissing off man-on-mare enthusiasts, and aiding the decline of modern civilization
A really good story.
There's a few typos and grammar issues:
>You hand lands into a puddle of mystery liquid
>a graveyard of apple cores that put your own hungry consumption from this morning look like nothing
>attempts to stop your imaginary descend
>Your blink the sleep away,
>She bits onto your shirt
(and didn't she get rid of the shirt a few paragraphs before this?)
>As your newly enlarged members breaches Fluttershy’s needy hole
>your thick seed pours into Fluttershy’s unprotected womb as a copious pace.
>a orgasm rocks her own body
>The first though that shoots through the disparate cells that make up your mind
How delightfully semitic
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Fucking tumblrfags forcing vitiligo onto everyone to get progressive points
This was a fun story! It's gonna be awkward being mistaken for Pinkie all the time though.
Lol, I doubt anyone here knows what that is without wiki but now I can't unsee it.
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Day 31: almost done.
Apple Strudely is here!
I want to straddle the Strudel
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Any good fics dealing with the realistic reaction that isn't positive? You know, the absolute spychological horror of being turned into a fily with no chance of ever returning would probably mess some people up quite badly. It feels strange how easily some people in fics just accept it.
>It feels strange how easily some people in fics just accept it.
In the fics' defense, if practically anyone itt had it happen to them, they wouldn't just "accept it" they'd be dancing in joy.
But to answer your actual question, I'm fairly sure there are quite a few, though I'm having trouble remembering any off the top of my head. Cuddly Doom would probably kind of qualify, though it might not be exactly what you're looking for since it also involves personality death/rewrite if I remember it correctly.

Wallmixer's stuff has plenty of horror, but not only about the transformation itself, and it's also gay. Radiance also has "psychological horror", but it's just a downright literal schizo tier tranny story, so I don't know if I can exactly recommend it.
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For every mare that becomes human, two humans must become mares.
Yes, yes that would be bad. Fucking awful in fact.
Make me a dragon, bitch.
>takes pfizer
>becomes dragon instead
>get turned into a dog
>go through the portal
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>Be Twilight Sparkle in Equestria
>Become mom by giving birth to two fillies
>Wake up the next day pregnant and in labor again
>You deliver your newest daughter
>Surprising, but still good.
>Take her home too, deciding to figure this out later.
>Wake up the next day pregnant and in labor again.
>You deliver your newest daughter?
>What is going on here?!
>Worried, you get every test and sleep in the hospital.
>Wake up the next day pregnant and in labor again.
>You realize over the next few weeks this is your life now.
>You give birth to every member of the PTFG community one after the other.
>You think that will be it, but no. One day your newest foal admits to being a random human normie.
>It's worse than you thought. You'll be doing this eternity.
>Your uterus is the portal to Equestria.
>Twilight gets the award for the largest family in Equestira
>On any given day between hospital trips she can be seen being followed by a small legion of fillies and foals that on some level consider her their mother
>The entire royal dining hall of her crystalline castle is filled with benches of seating, packed from end to end at dinner time with what of the Sparkle family didn't choose to go elsewhere
>Applejack is absolutely positively seething that it was Twilight and not her
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H-Hey, here's a Fluttershy for you, Anon.
The necklace did it.
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Day 32: sweetie drops drops in.
I hope she doesn't get rope burn on her teats.
There were a lot of interesting theories in this chapter, and the ending was funny.
You have to find the right mirror, which will show your reflection as the pony you could be.
>You look at your capsule.
>It's pink, and looks just like your normal medicine.
>A medicine that turns you into a pony.
>Curiosity gets the better of you.
>You get an exacto knife and cut the capsule open.
>You see a dark red-orange powder.
>You mix it with water.
>It has the same color and consistency as blood.
Then what does Moderna do?
Something modern?
Anons, could you recommend some good greens where anon/random man turns into a mare, gets fucked and enjoys it? Preferably something with a big non-clop part describing how he slowly accepts and begins to enjoy his new body. Sure, i can and will go through the lists in the OP post, but it's always good to get recommendations from regular posters.
Ok off the top of my head I THINK "Our Town" has that. But it's been ages since I kept up with it (I think there's a large part I'm not even caught up on, I really need to re-read it and get through it in full), so while I'm reasonably certain of this I can't be 100% sure.
Faust bless you noble show style drawfag

Any chance at you doing Doctor Whooves and Derpy sometime in the future?
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Gaming the system. Very clever.
Amazing work, thanks.
Is she trying to catch a fish
Not a green buy maybe royal duties?
Dios mío…
Neat, for a latex pony.
This guy is the hero the thread needed but not the one we deserved
Blessed draw, many thanks for your work.
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Imagine if u got tf'd into a filly but had present brain but also you aren't used to filly body so you need a diaper and maybe twi makes you go to filly school even if you're smart and also you live with her and she studies you
This was unironically what I wanted the most in my life for years, only recently being surpassed by another pony-related fantasy.
I think I'd kill myself.
What's the new one?
No it'd be cool and cute and twi would cuddle you and let you sleep in her bed if you have a bad dream
Would rather not say, I'll just say I've posted about it here before.
A lot.
Nah I'm thinking I'd genuinely kill myself.
Why? If course being a child sucks, but sooner or later you're gonna grow up
>Being a filly
>Needing a diaper
>Having to hang out with literal babies 24/7
Sounds like total dogshit
>all the anon's had the option to pop out of Applejack if they wanted to.
>but every one of them preferred Twilight.
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Read the Keyboard Masher stories,
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>Is she trying to catch a fish
I thought she was looking at her reflection.
AJ would be a good mom dont get me wrong, its just statistically more likely i'd pop out of Twilight as a unicorn or even pegasus.
With magic and flight being my two biggest desires it'd be like asking AJ to give up Apples or her friends in order to rule equestria.
She'd be a cool aunt thats for sure, i'd definitely help out at the farm a few times if she wanted me too.
Masturbatory Misery Mares

Oliver stepped out from the front door to his residence and pressed his bare feet into the powder snow that blanketed the ground. He ignored the slight pain of the cold and dreamily ambled across the front lawn towards the road. The cool air of the night felt welcoming, and the empty streets were beautiful in the warm light of the street lamps. An intoxicating sense of purpose filled him as he walked further from his residence building.
It was late enough that there was no traffic on the town’s roads, so Oliver drifted off the sidewalks and into the middle of the street. It felt so surreal, like the world was empty save for him. He caught his reflection in the corner of his eye from a darkened shop window, and stopped for a moment to take in the ridiculous sight of himself.
A worryingly thin boy in a tee shirt and pajama pants stood shivering in the snow. His gaunt face and sunken eyes made him look like some kind of ghoul, and his pale skin glowed in the moonlight.
Oliver trembled as a fluttering of anxiety shot through him, and he pulled himself away from the store window. If he took too long he might not be able to get to the overpass before sunrise.
We have promises to fulfill and people to save.
Normally he tried to ignore or suppress the thoughts of that sort, but tonight he let himself indulge. The words echoed in his mind, blotting out the painful cold that was saturating his feet and propelling him forward.
It’ll be okay. Everyone will be better for this.
For once, the sinking feeling of chills which crept up his gut felt natural, coherent with his surroundings. Everything felt natural for that matter. Even the chattering of his teeth seemed to distract from the malnutrition headaches which he had been suffering from the last couple weeks.
At the best of times he found it hard to keep down food, but as the fall semester passed, it had become harder to motivate himself to even eat at all.
It's good that you don’t eat. You are rotten and satanic, so the less of you there is, the less bad there is.
Adrenaline made up for the strength that was quickly leaving him in the cold of the night. As he crossed the mainstreet of the town and picked up his pace into a light jog. He couldn’t feel his feet anymore. He didn’t care. He drew in large breaths as he began to run. His lungs burned from the cold air.
Everything burned.
The pain kept his mind silent.
Without thought, he ran through the town, as if something was chasing him.
Only when he reached a highway overpass ten minutes later did he stop. He leaned against the cement railing, and pulled himself up above the highway. He hadn’t chosen to arrive here, his legs had simply carried him exactly where he belonged.
Below, the highway was completely empty. But in the distance, a light from a car was gently cresting the hills, growing imperceptibly closer.
Oliver crumpled against the railing.
The cold had been creeping up his extremities, and now intruded deep into his chest. His thin clothing was plastered to him, frozen stiff with sweat and slush from the roads.
You can do it, You’ve gotten yourself this far, it’s only one step more.
He thought of his parents, and all their hopes and ambitions for him. He had always known he would fail them. The indignities and embarrassments which constituted their relationship with their son couldn’t be allowed to continue. He had failed them so often, and he could see in their eyes how much it hurt them. The longer he stayed here, the more he would cause them pain.
He hoped that their mourning would last a short while. The note he had left behind was mostly apologies and pleas for them to quickly forget.
This felt right.
This felt like the first right thing he had done in a long, long time.
Soon there would be oblivion. He couldn’t wait for the silence, for the nothingness he would soon be granted.
The car was now only a hundred meters away or so. Its speed comforted Oliver.
With a flash of purpose he pulled himself up and threw himself over the railing.
Vertigo and the howling wind ripped away the dreamlike stupor, and time seemed to slow.
Now just twenty meters away, the car was enrapturing. Oliver found himself staring into the headlight as he tumbled downward. He wondered what kind of person was driving it. For a moment, he felt proud of himself. Then a moment later he felt dread wash over him.
You fucked it up you fucking idiot.
The car was moving faster than he thought.
It passed under him.
It was close enough that Oliver felt the wind shearing off it’s roof.
The ground rushed up and his body bounced off the road.
He didn’t feel anything but the kinetic force of it as shock kept him numb.
He turned his head towards the car, almost like he expected it to turn around and run over him properly this time.
But the backlights of the car just grew fainter and fainter as it sped away, before eventually disappearing into the night.
Fuck you.
Oliver rolled over onto his back and stared at the inky black sky. The world felt like it was spinning. He pressed his arms and legs against the ground to fight the sensation as best he could, but his arms refused to move away from his chest. He was too cold.
Everything hurt.
Most especially his head.
His breaths were deafening in the silence of the night, the only thing louder than them was the ringing in his ears.
Involuntarily he curled up, pulling his knees to his chest.
He laid in the middle of the highway and reeled from the shock.
You couldn’t even fucking kill yourself.
Tears streamed down his face and froze against his cheeks.
You couldn't fucking do it. You fucking useless piece of shit. You fucking piece of shit. You useless piece of shit.
The thoughts chastised him over and over again like a mantra.
He couldn’t bother registering them,
they simply bled into the background sensation of pain and coldness.
He weakly swore at himself, before his throat clogged with tears and the swearing degenerated into guttural croaking.
Through tears he looked up in both directions, hoping to see an approaching car that might still run him over.
But nothing was in sight.
Something will come
But nothing was in sight.
It will come
No it won’t.
It will come
No it won’t
You’ll see, something will appear in the distance any moment now
Get up
It’ll come
Get up you fucking idiot.
It’ll come
Get up. Nothing will come, and if it does they’ll just swerve out of the way of you.
The thoughts in Oliver’s head grew silent.
He resolved himself to lay and wait for another car.
But his resolve wavered a moment later as the raw pain of the cold began to come back into focus. His upper body tensed in desperation as he lifted his head again to look around, but there was nothing in sight.
He drew in a large breath, before screaming as loud as he could.
It was little more than a pathetic whimper.
His ribs groaned in pain from the exertion.
You can’t stay here all night, the cold won’t kill you quick enough. Someone will see you and alert an authority. You’ll be made even more of an embarrassment for your parents.
Oliver squeezed his eyelids shut trying to will away the thoughts.
Pull yourself off the road, and crawl back to your fucking dorm room.
He didn’t have the strength to make another attempt. Not tonight, He had spent all of the adrenaline he had.
With a redoubled sense of hopelessness, he rose to his knees, before limping off the highway and climbing up the embankment.

Half an hour later Oliver stumbled into the lobby of the residence building. The warm air of the building felt like a sauna after being in the cold for so long. He took in as much of it as he could with deep, greedy breaths.
His whole body stung with frostbite, and half of it roared in pain from the pathetic excuse for a suicide attempt. His mind was uncharacteristically lucid and cohesive in that all of it was united in self loathing.
Limping through the hallway to his dorm, he spared a moment of gratitude for the placement of his room on the first floor. The stairs up to the front door had proven difficult enough, he doubted he could make it up a flight to the second floor.
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I want horsefucker friends to be horses but I don't want to be a horse myself
What do
With a shaking hand he eventually managed to get his key into the keyhole of his dorm. As he entered the sound of a television struck his ears. His roommate Tyler was sprawled out on the couch, half asleep watching some show. It seemed like Oliver’s entrance had stirred him to wakefulness.
“Oliver, w-what the fuck happened to you. Why are you up so fucking late?”
Tyler rubs some sleep out of his eyes and inspects his roommate over again.
“Where you outside in… in your fucking pajamas?”
Oliver stood for a moment staring at Tyler, before summoning up the energy to speak.
“Yeah. I needed a walk.”
His voice sounds hollow and forced even to him.
He can’t make out the expression that flashes across Tyler’s face before he speaks.
“Everything okay?”
Should I just tell him the truth? That I just threw myself off a fucking highway overpass and missed the fucking car I was aiming for? Do I tell him anything at all? Holy fuck I could really use some fucking Ketomine.
“Do you have any Keller left?” Oliver said after debating himself.
Tyler is thrown off guard for a moment.
“No, actually I need to talk to my guy to get more.”
What the fuck is the point of having a drug dealer as your roommate if he fucking can’t even spare you some fucking god damn…
“Do you have anything else? Anything that will fucking keep me from needing to think about anything?”
Tyler could feel the bad vibes slough off every word. It probably freaked him out a bit because a long moment passed before he spoke.
“Nothing all that similar. I mean I do have- um…”
His voice faltered and his eyes darted around the room, looking for something to focus on other than his roommate.
Oliver felt his gut tie into a knot. He lumbered over to his room and quickly retrieved a fist full of bills from his wallet. It was supposed to be for his food for the upcoming week. He passed the lot of cash to Tyler.
“What ever the fuck it is, give it. I don’t care how much you want it for right now.”
Tyler leafed through the bills, not making eye contact with Oliver.
“I mean its pretty fucking strange and like, I don’t even think it counts as a um..”
Jesus fuck do I really have to threaten him?
“Whatever it fucking is, give it or I might let slip-”
Finally Tyler surrendered.
“Okay okay jesus fuck, just don’t say I didn’t fucking tell you. This shit is weird from what I’ve heard, which isn’t much. It’s still pretty new.”
Tyler climbed up off the couch and disappeared into his bedroom.
For a moment Oliver zoned out on the ringing in his ears. It hadn’t lessened much since the fall. He probably had a concussion or something.
Eventually Tyler reappeared with a prescription bottle in his hands. The pills inside looked like grey sad little things. He rattled the bottle in his hands a moment, thinking something over, before popping open the bottle and retrieving two pills from inside.
“I ain’t giving you any more than this tonight.”
He doesn’t want me to OD myself in the dorm. Fair enough.
Tyler dropped the pills into Oliver’s hand and slunk back to the couch. He then cranked up the volume, seemingly eager to put the interaction with his mess of a roommate out of mind.
“I’m gonna have a shower I think” Oliver mumbles.
Tyler nods while keeping his eyes on the TV.
“That’s a good idea, do that. Just don’t slip and crack your head open.”
Oliver murmurs in acknowledgment before limping into the bathroom.

His reflection in the bathroom mirror would have depressed him most other days. Right now he just stared into it, slowly blinking, pleasantly surprised he felt nothing. The pain of the frostbite and heavy bruising was still catching up to him. Although he could sense he would be really sore in an hour or two.
Eventually he pulled away from his reflection and inspected the pills in his hand. Inside of the bottle they had looked grey, but in the pale fluorescent light they were a gentle sky blue.
He popped both of them in his mouth before running the faucet and drinking from the stream to wash them down.
Whatever the fuck these are they’ll probably do the job
After another moment of staring at his reflection Oliver stripped and walked into the shower. He turned the knob to the sweet spot he had found his first week of university, before sitting down on the floor of the shower and curling up in the fetal position.
Even the room temperature water which initially shot out of the showerhead felt blisteringly hot to his frostbitten skin.
Good, I need this to hurt
He pulled his head down to his knees and let himself relax under the shower of water. The burning sensations all over his body were cathartic. He focused on the pain. It cleared his head of any thought spirals.
His body trembled as he took deep breaths, finally giving in to the exhaustion and strain of the night. It must be 3 or 4 AM by now.
Thank fucking god Tyler has insomnia or I might have had to go through the rest of the night sober.
He could feel tears melding into the water streams that trailed down his face. It felt good.

Ten minutes later and the warm water had stirred most of Oliver’s body back to life. Only his fingers and toes still felt numb. He slowed his breathing, and felt a wave of calmness soothe him.
Finally these fucking pills are kicking in. Thank fuck.
With a deep breath he unfolded his body and sat with his back flat against the wall of the shower. The water coming down on him felt sublimely pleasurable. He closed his eyes to soak in the bliss.
Especially on his scalp.
Little cascadences of sensation rippled across his scalp. For a moment he mourned the loss of his hair. His parents had forced him to have it buzzed off a few months before university.
For some reason he cried afterwards.
It hadn’t been touched since then but it was still incredibly short.
Back when it was down to his shoulders he always liked the feeling of it plastered to his face by the water. It made him feel comfortable, and sort of protected his face from the spray.
Although currently his face had a shit load of dried tears and snot gummed onto it.
Oliver raised his head to position his face directly in the shower stream, but an odd sensation came across it.
It felt like he had his bangs back.
He probed around his face with a hand and a feeling of pleasant surprise fell over him when his fingers found long locks of hair, exactly how it used to be before it was cut.
Oliver opened his eyes, and was met with a confusing sight.
There was actual hair in front of his eyes, but it wasn’t his normal shade of dirty blond, it was much darker.
He scooted out of the way of the water to the corner of the shower and inspected the hair between his fingers. He half expected it to disappear under scrutiny, like some hallucination brought about by the pills.
Funny, it even feels real. Wait…
Oliver brought the lock closer to his eye, checking for what he thought he had seen.
The hair wasn’t just darker, it was colourful. A deep seafoam.
He continued to turn it around in his hand. Strangely enough as he did, the lock seemed to flow downward and lengthen right in front of his eyes.
Those pills must be something really special. Thank god for Tyler.
Another sensation of comfort passed through his mind, this time accompanied by the oddest bout of exhaustion.
He slumped over in the shower and for a moment he thought he heard a woman call out to him. He didn’t understand the language she spoke in, but it sounded beautiful. Her voice carried so much singsong in it he thought she was actually singing to him for a moment. Reminded him of lullabies his mother had sung when he was little.
His eyes felt so heavy he couldn’t bear to keep them open. They closed only for a moment, before shooting back open. A singular feeling struck him as the exhaustion drained from his body. A feeling that he had just woken up from a dream.
The events of the night suddenly felt distant, irrelevant even. The world seemed so much more in focus than it was a moment before. Oliver took in the mundane view of the shower with a newfound clarity, drinking in all the details of his surroundings like he was a newborn.
He reached over to the shampoo bottle in front of him, eager to see it’s bright colouring up close, but stopped as his arm came into his field of vision.
The sight of it caused him to pause, but there was no fear. Only fascination.
The skin of his arm was peeling away in tiny flecks, and the flecks were floating up and turning to ash in the air as though they were embers from a fire. Slowly being revealed beneath the skin was a pale green coat of… fur? It was smooth and seemed to be laid flat against his flesh.
The calming effect of the pills was enough for Oliver to relax and simply enjoy the spectacle which was unfolding before him. It was strangely beautiful in a way. The flecks peeling away from him felt like a warm sort of pins and needles. As it crept up his arm, thoughts of concern briefly flash in the back of his mind.
What’ll happen when it gets to my chest, or my head? What is happening to me?
With a contented smile Oliver dismissed the thoughts. There was nothing bad happening. This was good, whatever it was. These pills were a godsend.
The strange hallucination continued down towards his hands and up into his shoulders.
He watched in awe as his hands unspooled and floated away into an unfelt breeze, turning to ash and then to nothing in the span of a few seconds.
As the last of his fingers twisted away and disintegrated, the form underneath began to be revealed. His coated arms extended up to where his palms used to be, and ended in pleasantly curved hoof sort of.. things. He moved them around and clinked them together. The ends of them were hard, like they actually were some cartoonish version of a horse’s hooves.
The feeling of moving them around was like having a hand inside of a perfectly fit glove, albeit one that restricted any movement of one’s fingers.
Elsewhere on his body, the flesh continued to peel away. It had become a feeling of satisfying pleasure. He could feel it spreading across his chest, and up his neck.
Oliver closed his eyes again, basking in the moment.
Everything is okay
He pushed himself back under the shower stream and laid down on his side. He was having a hard time sitting up straight, and this felt much more natural.
The transformation buzzed across his face, eliciting a small moan of comfort, the warm water beating down on him only adding to the delightful feelings creeping across his body.
When he twitched for a moment, a strange pressure on his back came into focus. It had been there for a few minutes now, but only now was he cognizant of it.
Oliver shifted himself and rolled his shoulders, attempting to work out the pressure, but it kept building and building. When he tried to stretch out his whole body, his form felt warped and strangely proportioned. He lifted his head and tried to look around at himself.
His neck craned above his body far higher than he expected, and for a moment a wave of vertigo threw him for a loop. Yet the sight in front of him dared to confuse him even more.
Oliver’s pale anorexic body had burned away, leaving behind a pale green coat of fur soaked against his skin in the shower. Softly muscled quadrupedal limbs lay in front of him, also covered in the coat of fur. In the steamy air, flecks of his old body danced and turned to ash in front of his eyes.
The entire scene would be unbelievably surreal if not for the water beating down on his body. It seemed to ground him inside of this obvious hallucination, each droplet making contact with his body reinforcing the physicality of his new flesh.
He stared at his body for a moment more, before a jolt of movement followed an alien spasm near the base of his spine.
With an unsure twitch, he tried to make the same muscle group which had just spasmed tense up. His eyes widened as he saw a tail wave up into view over his flank. When he relaxed them, it fell behind him out of view again.
Caught up with a giddy curiosity, Oliver waved his tail back and forth a few more times. It was the same colour that his hair had changed to, a deep seafoam.
The colours really suit you.
He smiled as he reflected on that thought. At least until the pressure in his back turned into a sharp pain.
He had been so transfixed by his new body that he had forgotten about the discomfort in his back.
That's fine anon, you be whoever you like, I'm glad to hear you're happy with yourself as you are.
He twisted his head even more, until he was looking at his backside. About half way down what used to be his shoulders, two extrusions of bone pressed hard against his skin. His breathing caught in his throat as he realized that the pain had grown significantly even in the last few seconds. Whatever it was, they were about to burst out of his back.
It felt almost like the final moment before one vomits, the momentum of the physical process overpowering any willpower.
Oliver couldn’t stop himself from screaming.
His vision blacked out for a moment from the pain.
His neck lost its strength and his head slapped down onto the shower floor.
His insides shuddered as he felt his back tear open.
Blood flowed down and washed into the drain in front of him, and something limp slid out onto the shower tile behind him. His breathing slowed, and he realized only half of the pressure had been alleviated. Whatever it was, he felt a compulsion to force it out of himself.
Oliver curled his whole body in a painful flex, and tensed every muscle along his back. Again his back split open, this time just a few inches to the left of where it had a moment ago. New nerve endings and musculature tensed themselves, and both of Oliver’s wings spread open. After a painful second, the two limbs folded along his back, instinctually resting along his sides.
Blood continued to flow out of his back, but it felt so relieving.
Oliver laid on his side and tried to catch his breath.
It took a few minutes, but he eventually sat up with his back legs folded next to him and his forelegs extended. He relished his long hair being soaked by the shower. The hot water was starting to run out for his apartment though, so he clumsily turned the handle off with his forelimbs.
These drugs are really some crazy stuff. It’s like I can’t even feel my fingers when the hallucination is on full tilt.
Experimentally, Oliver brushed his hoof against the shower curtain, expecting there to be some incongruity with the body he was seeing and the one he knew he had in reality.
But there didn’t seem to be one.
With a stumble, Oliver tried to stand up on two feet. He was standing for only a second before he had to set his forelegs back onto the shower tile. It seemed like the drugs had also altered his sense of balance.
Maybe the only way to move around while on these things was to stay on all fours?
He laughed as he imagined what Tyler would see if he left the bathroom. He would probably look ridiculous, zonked out of his brain crawling around on his hands and knees insisting he was some kind of animal now.
He took a step forward with his back left leg, then another with his front right leg. His body didn’t seem to have the wiring to intuitively walk, so he would just have to brute force it for the time being.
With careful hoofsteps he carried himself out of the shower and over to the towel rack on the side of the wall. He hadn’t noticed in the shower but he felt like he was a lot smaller than before. Even much smaller than he would normally be crawling around on all fours. He awkwardly pressed his hoof on the towel, trying to pull it off with his currently numbed and invisible fingers, but it refused to budge.
For a moment he stared at the towels thoroughly frustrated, until a twitch began to roll over his back. Before he could realize what he was doing, his body shook most of the water off of him like a wet dog.
He thanked god no one was there to witness the indignity.
Both his hair and newly grown tail were still dripping wet, so he pressed his head into the towel he knew was his. After a moment of rolling his head around, his hair was dry enough not to be dripping all over the apartment.
He moved to dry off his tail when he realized that his tail probably didn’t exist. It was obviously some part of the hallucinations, so… was it even possible to dry it? Was the water that had been dripping off it part of the hallucination?
He wagged his tail back and forth.
It felt real enough, and he could even feel water droplets falling out of it onto his back legs.
After thinking for a moment he decided he suddenly felt silly debating the existence of his tail and just dried it off on the same towel he pressed his head into.
He walked with a slow deliberacy to the bathroom door, when out of the corner of his eye he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
He blinked three times over, and the tiny pony in the mirror did the same.
Oh my goodness that is surreal
I look so…
Oliver shook his head, fruitlessly trying to banish the thoughts which were now stirring within him.
I look so… familiar?
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Oliver looked back over his body, and found that he felt like he was forgetting something very important. His head strained to recall something, but whatever it was eluded him.
I look so...
Oh my god.
Oliver stood still for a moment, before slowly turning himself around and pulling his tail to the side. His head easily swiveled on his swan-like neck to look himself squarely from behind.
He hadn’t even noticed when this happened.
How did…
It suits you very well.
A scream of surprise shot out of Oliver’s throat followed by manic giggles, both of which sounded nothing like his old voice.
He called out to Tyler in disbelief.
“These pills are something else man, what were-”
He stopped as the sound of his voice truly hit him. It was so unbelievably feminine and high pitched.
For a moment panic began to bubble up in his stomach, but he reminded himself this was all just part of the hallucinations. Tyler had warned him it was pretty weird, so maybe he should just try to take the changes in stride.
Even if he was a female pony right now.
As if to drive in the oddity of the experience, his wings flared out a bit involuntarily.
He was a winged horse pegasus thing.
This hallucination really felt like nothing he had ever had before. His mind felt comforted and happy, but other than that he swore everything felt completely real. Maybe even more real than anything had felt in a long long time.
Oliver called out to his roommate again. He could still hear the television playing in the living room so Tyler was probably still half asleep on the couch. He should probably make his way out there to get some more info about how this fucking drug was supposed to work, and how long it was supposed to last.
He settled on just pulling his pajama pants up over his rear, as it seemed like it would be more trouble than it was worth to go through the difficulty of shimmying into his tee shirt. The pants hung off his rear incredibly loosely, but he decided it was probably just another facet of the hallucination.
The doorknob proved a resilient foe against his hooves, but finally gave in when he simply bit onto it with his weird horse mouth thing. With an awkward rotation of his head and a firm bite, the door swung out of his way.
His walk had grown a little more natural, but it was still stilted and slow. He imagined what he must look like doing this stupid routine. A nearly fully grown man crawling on his hands and knees half dressed.
At least Tyler was a bit anti-social so there was little risk of this whole debacle ending up on snapchat or something.
Oliver came up next to the couch, before clumsily climbing on, scrambling a bit at the end to get his back legs onto the cushion.
Tyler seemed to have nodded off again in front of some reruns of Seinfeld. Oliver briefly wondered what cable company was broadcasting Seinfeld in 2022.
With one of his hooves, Oliver gently poked at Tyler all curled up on the couch.
“Hey roomie, If you are gonna sleep you should really drag yourself to your bed. You don’t even have any pillows or blankets out here.”
Hearing himself speak was still very strange. Not bad, just fascinating.
He gave another poke and Tyler groggily roused from his nap.
“If you are gonna sleep you should try to drag yourself to your bed dude, you don’t even have any pillows or blankets out here.” Oliver repeated himself.
Tyler’s eyes shot open, immediately finding and zeroing in on the thing sitting on the couch next to him. He was speechless as his mouth hung agape.
Without even blinking, Tyler reached a hand out toward Oliver. It trembled a bit as it grew closer and closer to him.
Oliver found himself scooching himself backwards from Tyler’s hand.
“Y-you okay Tyler? I thought I was the one who was supposed to be on drugs right now.”
Tyler froze up and blinked a few times. One of his eyebrows raised and he tilted his head in genuine confusion.
“Am I dreaming right now?” He asked warily.
Oliver gave a nervous chuckle and tried to answer in as good a humor he could muster.
“Do you normally dream of half naked men?”
Tyler’s confusion gave way to utter befuddlement.
Oliver grew worried. Tyler was often really fast on the sort of ribbing they would give each other every now and again. He probably was still waking up. Oliver tried to defuse the tension by explaining the joke.
“Well cause like, you just woke up alongside a half naked-”
“Pony,” Tyler cut in.
Oliver felt the blood drain from his face. If he hadn’t been covered in a thin coat right now he would probably look like he had just seen a ghost. He felt his ears flatten against his head and his tail instinctively curl around himself.
“A talking pony is on my couch. A fucking talking pony is on my couch.”
Tyler’s voice grew more and more excited.
“A fucking talking pony. How did you get here?”
Oliver could feel his heart racing as his roommate stared at him in awe. A moment later and his mind was racing too.
This is just a hallucination, this is all some strange trip. I’m laying in the shower passed out, or in my bed. None of this is real, none of this is real.
“Do you need my help, little pony? Who are you?” Tyler asked with a strange reverence. It sounded like he was going through a bit of a moment himself.
With a shaky voice Oliver answered
“It’s me dude, Oliver.”
Tyler seemed really caught off guard.
The little pony shifted uncomfortably.
“It was your fucking drugs that did this dude.”
Tyler’s brow furrowed and he leaned in close, studying the little pony as best he could.
“Holy shit it is you. What the fuck happened, this… this is from the drugs?”
Oliver couldn’t help but jump to his hooves suddenly filled with anger.
Tyler stumbled back from the screaming little pony.
“I- I don’t try everything I sell -My guy just said it made you calm and small and diminutive and horse like- I- I thought it was poetic language.”
Oliver looked down at himself, the nature of his transformation really setting in.
“Oh my god I have a tail, I have wings. I have a fucking horse puss.”
Tyler did a double take before getting up and walking over to his room. A moment later he returned with the familiar bottle of horse pills.
He began listing off a bunch of technical sounding medical information before raising his voice as he reached the important bit.
“M4re only lasts 4-6 hours depending on the dosages used. See? We just have to wait this out and you’ll be back to normal okay?”
Oliver collapsed on the couch with a sigh of relief. For a minute he had been worried the transformation was permanent.
It would have been nice in its own way
The intrusive thought made Oliver deeply uncomfortable. He mentally berated himself for letting such a thing cross his mind even in passing. Tyler must have picked up on his discomfort cause he broke the silence after a few seconds.
“So, is that mane of yours like, soft?”
Oliver twisted around so he was facing Tyler again.
“Um, I don’t know. It feels sort of light and bouncy I guess.”
“Come over here, let me check it out. My mom was a hairdresser and I used to help her out from time to time. Your mane is some kind of triumph, what with the colour and the shape. It's almost unreal.”
Oliver felt a bit strange having his roommate poke around his hair, but he guessed he didn’t mind. Not like he really had anything else to do at like five in the morning. He stumbled a bit as his hooves sank into the couch cushions, but he eventually made it over next to Tyler in one piece.
He laid down in a bit of a loaf, before focussing on the television as Tyler began to examine his “mane” as he had called it.
The gentle tugging on his scalp actually felt really nice.
“So the colour just came in along with the hair? You were almost bald before.”
“Yeah it changed while I was in the shower. I only noticed when it got long enough to get in my face.”
“I know like seven women who would kill to have hair like this.”
Oliver couldn’t help but laugh.
“Just tell them they need to take some of your sick horse drugs and turn into a cartoonish little pony.”
“I think saying that sort of thing would draw out a different sort of girl altogether. The incredibly rare and dangerous, horse-girl junkie.”
“You know it sounds like you’ve just discovered a lucrative market segment, you might make a killing off this m4re yet, or whatever it was called.”
Both of them chortled from their banter. This was nice. It was weird but Oliver hadn’t realized how nice it was just talking with Tyler. They hadn’t really just relaxed like this before. Weird that it took him transforming into a pony for it to happen.
“Do you mind if I check out your scalp? There is a slight gradient in your hair and I wanna get a better look.”
“Sure sure, just be careful and stuff.”
Tyler’s fingers gently brushed half of Oliver’s mane to the side, before they descended on his scalp. The feeling of it was sublimely nice, pleasurable even. Oliver couldn’t help but fidget a little.
“I think...I think my head is a lot more sensitive than it was before.”
Tyler raised a curious eyebrow.
“Yeah, give it a little bit of a scratch okaaaaaa-”
As Tyler gently dragged his fingers over Oliver’s scalp his voice slurred and he failed to finish his sentence. He fell silent and simply drank in the sensation. His body pushed his head up and against Tyler’s hands.
Oh god this feels so amazing, more please more god please more.
Oliver snapped out of the daze only when Tyler pulled his hand away laughing to himself.
“Why did you stop? W-what's so funny?” Oliver’s voice held a desperation which betrayed himself.
Tyler snickered a bit
“You were acting like a touch hungry cat dude, I seriously thought you were about to start purr-ing.”
You loved it you little whore, you might as well present yourself to him and ask to be serviced like the mare you are. Maybe you can ask him to tug on your tail and slap your ass next.
Oliver jolted in disgust at himself, and turned away from Tyler so as to hide his face, now blushing as red as a tomato. He cleared his throat and summoned up what composure he could.
“It um, it just really did feel great. I think this pony drug thing wires you a bit differently. I’m getting some um… some weirdness.”
Tyler leaned back on the couch and drew his arms behind his head, stretching out his back.
“So, are you feeling any better from earlier in the night?”
What even happened earlier tonight?
Oliver searched his memories for clarification on what Tyler meant, but he couldn’t draw on anything before taking his shower. Had he been studying?
“What do you mean earlier in the night?” He asked earnestly.
“Like, whatever was going on when you fucking stumbled in frost bit to hell and wearing nothing but your pajamas. Whatever that was about, do you feel better now?”
Oh god, the cold. The overpass. Did that actually happen? It all felt like a half forgotten dream at this point.
As the details of the night finally struck Oliver, he realized he hadn’t thought about any of the usual dark shit which had been clouding his mind the last few weeks. Everything felt so distant and unimportant. It was like that whole affair had been nothing but a bad dream, and now he was awake.
He laid his head down in front of him, answering Tyler with a low voice of contentment.
“Yeah, I feel alot better. I can barely even remember what I was so beat up about.”
Tyler nodded and absent mindedly gave his attention back to the Television.
Oliver let out a little yawn and nestled himself into the couch cushion.
The indistinct conversation and laugh tracks of Seinfeld faded into the background, and Oliver felt sleep come upon him. He didn’t resist.
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Day 33: sassaflash
she brings anon a pineapple
I hope she's not planning to make him a pizza.
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I'm curious...
anon you have to learn to be a girl and how to live w ponies plus maybe u can mack on the teacher
You're now the designated scritcher, your job is to pamper the shit out of your friends.
Become the pon-E supplier.
This. Would be making a great service, and a win-win for everyone.
this is why nobody respects this thread.
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Reminder: Transformation into a female pony is the only way to not be gay.

As a male, you are in constant contact with a penis. Your life largely revolves around a literal penis. You let it do a good deal of your thinking for you, frequently jerk it off and even when having sex with a female you're literally just stimulating a cock.

Your waifu isn't much better off. You're asking her to engage in several gay acts such as sucking a cock and cuddling with a male.

But if you become a mare too, then you and your waifu can have a penis-free relationship. Sex will be 100% straight as no males are present. Furthermore, you will be in perpetual contact with pussy. While 'straight' males get access to pussy for maybe a few minutes on a day they're lucky, you will have access to pussy 24/7
This is just a significantly worse version of much better jokes like
"Why would a man want to be a cop? So you can handcuff another man? Keep your kinks to the bedroom please."
>Being a baby is... Not that bad, actually
>You sleep most of the time, eat occasionally, babble a little to figure out how this mouth works, and play with your parents sometimes
>You do use diapers, and someone needs to change them for you, but you can get over that
>The only downside is the boredom, but you know that today, it won’t last
>Because today your parents will be out and you will have a babysitter
>A blue unicorn with a light silver mane and tail, apparently she is a magician since you saw her using a purple cape adorned with stars with a hat also with stars once
>And either she is particularly good at staying in character, or she is just an actual narcissist
>Her name has something to do with traveling and bringing joy or something you haven’t caught up with the language yet
>But she /will/ bring you joy, she sure will
>She got you milk, got you to eat, burped you, and put you to sleep
>But you were just pretending
>Her current position is in the living room, listening to the radio
>And her day will be turned upside down right now
>you lower your pillow first, then some teddy animals, and finally, your favorite furred blanket
>That shit has a spell that always maintains a set temperature, and you never slept so soundly
>But now you can fall out of the crib without hurting yourself
>You’re out! Now to the kitchen
>You can see from the stairs she is in the living room listening to the radio
>If you go now, she will see you, so you wait
>Hopefully, she won't come to check on you
>Fuck! She is walking to the stairs! Quick hide in your parents' room!
>Thank god she is going to the bathroom
>That's your chance
>You down the stairs to the kitchen fast, but trying not to fall
>You knew how to leave the crib, but you never got caught by your parents
>Meaning the house hasn't been babyproofed yet
>Score! you found butter and some flour
>time to play
>Be great, powerful, and relieved
>That's an enormous dump Trixie just took
>Seriously, how the hay did that even fit Trixie's asshole?
>Well, Trixie is near the room, might check the baby as well
>Trixie opens the door
>Trixie opens her mouth wider
>New Hope is gone
>There are pillows, her plushies, and her blanket on the floor
>The bucker left the crib
>Starlight didn’t warn you about this!
>Silence fills the air after your little breakdown
>Only for laugher to take its place
>It's coming from bellow
>When did she go there! If she went through the stairs, Trixie would see it!
>Trixie runs down the stairs, barely not fall-
>On the floor, upside down with your rump up above and your face bellow
>With some background laugher to compliment it all
>In the kitchen, in all her glory, playing on the floor is the Baby
>With butter?
>With FLOUR!?
“Hay no! Trixie will not clean all that!"
>She can craw at Mach 10 apparently
>How is that brat so damn fast!
>You try using your telekinesis, but she is slippery as hay
>So you trot to get closer and use your telekinesis better-
>You shouldn't run through the damned butter
>Wait, is she going to Starlight's room?
>Her room is carpeted! She will get butter EVERYWHERE!
>You try to run
>Only to slip and fall yet AGAIN!
>you forgot how drenched in butter you were
>This bucking filly
>Be tiny and cute and Anonymous
>This is even better than you imagined. Little Houdini over there is super impulsive when she gets angry and keeps tripping herself
>You reach your parents' room
>The carpet has a blanket of uncleaned dirt and grime
>You hope getting some visible butter in here will incentivize them to clean it
>By the time smeared butter halfway into the room, you get lifted suddenly
>Her eyes are twitching, her mane disheveled, her coat oily and with flour
>Its impressive how much you managed to break the poor mare
>But also hilarious, as suggested by your hysterical laugher
>Somehow, her eyes twitch harder
>You might be in trouble
>But then, she breathes deeply
>And out
>”Infans est, nescit quid agat.”
>Maybe she thinks you are too young to know how to behave?
>You know how to, but you chose not to
>”Maybe est terebravisse et vult ludere”
>Woah Woah Woah! Now you're pretty sure she just guessed you were bored and wanted to play
>A little bit humbling, but she is spot on
>You were bored and only made a mess to have some fun
>”et vis ludere?”
>You look at her with wonder, pretty sure she’s willing to play with you after all that
>Your previous parents in your past life would not be so understanding, they would never hit you, but they had and would yell
>You smile
>Not the mischievous kid you had but a minute ago
>But filled with warmth
>You hold your arms out for a hug
>an oily, Floured, and dirty hug, but a warm hug nonetheless
>You two played until you could anymore, and by the time you woke she had cleaned your mess
>You like it here
I did a thing, what y'all think?
Pretty good thing, "intelligent anon in an innocent kid's body" is an underexplored genre in my opinion
Would you prefer being transported to equestria right after turning into a pony, or having to band up with other ponies to find a way in?

Come back to me Y'aldujusea!
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>Y'aldujusea, Empress of Destruction
>Mainly concerning the destruction of chew toys
>get turned into mare
>you have a strange genetic mutation that results in overlactation
>it starts becoming a problem
>you need to ask for help
>you're basically forced into becoming a pet for anon in return for his help
I can recommend keyboard masher. If you want something that's along a similar premise after reading it, you can read this one, 'Veterinary Science':


Beware, though, like Keyboard Masher it doesn't have an ending because its author has problems with commitment
the author's other stuff is pretty alright too if you wanna check out their ponepaste
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>be me, year 2071
>somehow still a ponyfag
>the fandom has been a long time gone, just like the olden empires of human history
>there are still a few elders here and there that preserve the legacy and all that fuzz, but mostly ponies are just a subset of furfaggotry now
>After retiring, I finally get enough amazon tokens™ to buy the Steam Mind Uploader so I can transfer my conciousness to the cybernet and "finally get on with the times, meat-grandpa" as my stupid Gen Omega grandperson telepathically says to me
>I sigh as I mentally prepare myself to leave this earth and ascend®

>its not as bad as I tought at first.
>I bought a simple 3d-scan playermodel of my former body so I can hide my autism from my family in the virtualspace
>it was all I needed at first, as I was already mindblown with the simple fact of "being" "here"
>but then my grandperson insisted to go avatarshopping with xim, so we TP'd to the marketplace to see the models
>it was there when I saw it
>a full, 3D+ AI-rendered full customizable Pony playermodel of a basic 4th generation MLP character on display
>I'm in total awe as I pet the soft fur of the pony before my virtual eyes
>I instantly buy it and transfer my psyque to it, auto-customizing it into an anonfilly
>as I do this, my grandperson cringes, but im too lost in joy to mind
>xe asks me who the hell that character is, as xe has seen it before in one of his college friend's virtual furry orgies
>tfw when my grandperson is a furfag.png
>meh, it checks out I guess

>xe telepathycally sends me the memories and I can see the usernames of a group of anonfillies
>I telepathycally send a friend-request to all of them
>a pop-up appears in my periferal view. it's a request for a TP to a Neutral-space
>its from one of the anonfillies
>I instantly appear in a old fashioned diner with the anonfilly in question
>he...(or she?) talks to me, wich is weird, as I have gotten used to telepathy communicattion
>he tells me there's a safe haven, a sanctuary of ponykind,, made by and for ponyfags of the old /mlp/, with fully sentient ponies NPCs and a hivemind of Anons.
>I cannot believe my "ears" as I begin to cry in pure happyness, as the anonfilly answers all my questions about E-Questria

>tfw I made it
>tfw we all made it

pic related is a memory-snap of when I got to watch a movie with my new anonfilly brothers that night in a house located in a perfect 3d replica of ponyville.

>thanks furfag grandson, grandpa loves you
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This is a great read, and I'm going to drop a few extra (You)s in my post to make up for the dearth thus far.
I'm guessing that people haven't had the chance to read it yet - I'm a slow reader myself and need to carve out like a half hour for 7k words - so, with any luck, I hope you get more praise & feedback this weekend.

I liked the stream of consciousness elements you worked in; the punchy, chaotic inner dialogue while he's lying on the highway is insightful and a good contrast to the physical scene of him lying motionless in an empty city. Though on the topic of written cadence, I wouldn't mind if the story's three-word sentences weren't limited to just a couple of sections, as mixing up sentence length is a great way to emphasize and engage. Also, I can't recall any other authors who delineate thoughts by leaving off punctuation... I feel like I should be able to, but I'm kind of tired. If you're blazing a trail, good on ya. I like it.

I also appreciate that you spent a few sentences drawing the reader's attention to the place at which the changes were about to begin - and this is the important part - in an organic manner. A lot of stories, even second person ones, jump right in with some variation on the 'you have short hair, oh wait, guess it's long now' spiel. Too often, it lacks subtlety. Moreover, the setup of talking about Oliver's formerly long hair not only set the stage for the changes to come, but was also good exposition on, what, three critical things? His upbringing/parents, a broad time frame (he can't have been in university long if his hair's still short), and the fact that he feels more comfortable with long hair (no implications there). This is an example of what good "show, don't tell" can look like, and you deserve some brownie points.

I don't know if you plan to continue this, but you've got both a lot of potential and a lot of current skill for someone posting on Anon. I'd be upset if this story didn't get backed up somewhere, so please consider doing so. Aside from 'Oliver sad,' a central conflict has yet to reveal itself, but know that if you do carry this further, I'll be here to read it.
page 8 bump
Continue doing it.
>Aside from 'Oliver sad,' a central conflict has yet to reveal itself
Maybe 'Oliver is horse', that sounds like a conflict. After all, two pills...
>“M4re only lasts 4-6 hours depending on the dosages used. See? We just have to wait this out and you’ll be back to normal okay?”
>4-6 hours depending on the dosages used.
>depending on the dosages
Good catch, the notion that it could be permanent totally went over my head. Or at least that he could be stuck as a pony for some span of time more than a quarter day. That could be a problem.
Thank you! Yes, there is a chance of that – in fact, that chance is 100% at the moment.
Thanks y’all! You’re way overselling it, but I appreciate the sentiment. Content creators thrive off of encouragement, and I’ve been fortunate that my art has been welcomed so warmly here. Two ramifications of that are that I’m still doing this in large part because of your support, and that even if you haven’t developed the skill to (or can’t) draw/write, you can still make a massive impact by simply, quickly telling someone if you like their work. Hence why I try to thank each poster individually for kind words; anyone who tries to brighten up someone else’s day is the real hero.
Yup, that was more or less what I had in mind.
Thank you very much! She’s looking at her reflection as >>37534703 mentioned, and it’s my bad for not making that more clear. In the original composition, I’d hastily planned to have part of her hair visible in a reflection. But it became apparent later on that the bridge was rather tall and that her hair didn’t extend particularly far down, so those plans got scuppered. I still have a lot to learn about setting up compositions with this drawing method as well as creating compelling backgrounds, so I’ve been making an effort to explore the waters more going forward.
>Good catch,
Right back at you actually, I hadn't noticed it was M4re instead of Pon-E. We really have no idea what dosage is normal, and what's an OD. Given that it seems to not hold as long as Pon-E (4-6 hours, vs 12 hours), and that it explicitly specifies "depending on dosages used" which implies people can vary the dosage (as opposed to Pon-E where you either take exactly one pill, or you OD on two pills, no real middle ground there), it's probably not permanent.
That's a good point about it probably not being permanent if it does imply that you can vary the doses responsibly. Granted, I've never trusted Pon-E manufacturers to thoroughly, properly label their products, and the same suspicion absolutely extends to M4re.
So he'll likely change back into a human... at some point. And if it's a veritable rule that "you will turn into a pony at the most inopportune time," then it's worth noting the corollary of "you will turn back into a human at the most inopportune time" must also exist.
The image archive on 8-chan may very well be permanently down. Does anybody have a backup?
>Master brings home a new pet
>she's whining and making this awful 'ree'ing noise
>Try to calm her down
>start rubbing up against her and petting her
>bitch pushes me away
>Well fine then, you need the real distraction
>Go around her back like I'm walking away
>Sneak up under her tail
>Oh it's a boy pony
>Welp, since I'm already here
>start lapping at his balls
>the sniffling little wreck immediately freezes up
>See her- sorry, him, get hard immediately
>turns aruond to look at me, stil all puffy-eyed from crying
>"What are you doing??"
"Calming you down."
>Give him a deviant smile.
"Roll over."
>Somewhat in shock he rolls over onto his back
"Good girl~"
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You will NEVER be a real pony. You have no snoot, you have no mane, you have no hooves. You are a mentally ill man twisted by porn and delusion into a crude mockery of Equestria's perfection.

All the (You)s you get are two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back, horsefuckers mock you. Faust is disgusted and ashamed of you. /mlp/ laughs at your autistic screeching behind cute mares.

Ponies are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of booping have allowed poners to sniff out faggots with incredible efficiency. Even TFfags who pass look uncanny and unnatural to a pone. Your coombrain is a dead giveaway, and even if you managed to get a drunk mare home with you, she'll turn tail and BOLT the second she gets a whiff of your crusty, cheeto-dust-covered micropenis.

You will never be happy. You wake up every single morning and tell yourself that it's going to be okay, but deep inside you can feel the depression creeping up like a plundervine, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight. Eventually it'll be too much to bear - you'll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and take a hop skip and jump into the cold abyss.

Your waifu and her zebra bulls will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with your sickening cringeworthiness and degeneracy. They'll bury you with a headstone marked with your species and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a human is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably human.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
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>hop skip and jump into the cold abyss
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>too distracted by mare's snowpities to eat a pinapple properly
>even as she's explaining it to him
>wingboners at full mast
Anon you perv
Now you're a mare!
A mare mare mare!
Now you're a mare!
A barely-mare mare!
A mare mare mare!
You are now a mare!
You're a mare…!

Now you're a mare!
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>Pineapple makes his cum sweet
>Wingboner at full mast
>He's been exposed to so many mares so fast he can't help but love tenderly, for hours
>Mare, you've hit the jackpot
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Day 34: blossomforth
skipped yesterday as I spent most of my free time making >>37544084
was inspired by an anon so in love with sassy that he would eat an unpeeled pineapple.
Made blossomforth with the pen tool so hopefully her lines are a bit cleaner than my usual mouse drawn ponies. Will probably use this tool for future pones.
Sweet, flexy mare
You'd been drawing with your mouse the whole time? That's impressive
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Booping any ponies you find on any expeditions may result in significant biological changes, up to and including becoming a pony.

Please take caution if you, a loved one, or your travelling compatriots cannot resist booping their adorable lil' snootles, as there have been results where subjects almost completely changed into ponies, barring the fact that they had ended up with two sets of feet where the hooves should be.

If that thought had scared you, it did its job.
Much like the brave scientist who had to dispose of said subject.

With that being said, We have PEOPLE who are trained on how to properly interact with our Pony canter-parts and their etiquettes. If you want to learn more, join our seminar every [REDACTED] at [REACTED], and we'll be glad to teach you all about Equestrian Living and Lifestyle.
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That's a good story too and I hope it'll get finished one day, but the requesting Anon wanted something with sex in it.
what joke? there is no joke here, he is telling us facts.
It is simply too gay to not be a mare.
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Thank you very much!
Nice fashionable horse TF.
Careful everyone, perfection is forming
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>There's no need to worry, Sweetie Belle. If a terrifying human like in that story every showed up, all we need do is cast the spell to turn it into a harmless filly.
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Have you got a pastebin for this?
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Day 35:Screw Loose.
I'm glad you didn't notice
>Drawanon trying to find the last pixels on their image that aren't a mare so they can fit another mare in there
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>Silver Spanner by the of the week if her sweating continues to increase exponentially
Becoming rarity always includes the eye shadow
Can you do Arizona next?
She seems to have made a good recovery.
I'm back. originally i wrote the third chapter of the story and it was super depressive and like masturbatorily sad and lowkyey i was gunna abandon the whole fic.... but after the nice things said here imma try to continue it. Im not sure if you people will like the direction its gunna end up going in.... but hey we'll see.

Oliver awoke to a burning sensation at the tips of his fingers. The pain of it roused him almost immediately, and he sprang up from the couch with his whole body erect. He pulled his front two hooves up and away from the cushion as the burning sensation grew.
In the back of his mind he unconsciously registered that he was a little pony. The thought passed out of mind as imperceptibly as it arrived, in the same way one might notice the lights in a room were on.
What did draw his attention and soon after his alarm, were the flecks of burning flesh materializing out of thin air around his hooves.
His breathing quickened as he held his hooves up to his eyes. Blood vessels and ligaments were coalescing out of thin air and anchoring themselves to the tips of his fingers as they floated in place around his hooves. More of the human flesh grew out of the embers which were slowly making their way down forming a pair of hands.
As the pain grew sharper, Oliver’s breaths became even more frantic.
No no no no no no no no oh god oh fuck why does it hurt so much
In a strange desperation he buried his newly forming hands under a pillow, but the embers of the transformation reverting him back to normal continued out of sight.
If he wasn’t already so panicked it might have helped.
As it was in the moment his tiny body shivered and seized up at the pain.
He successfully resisted the urge to scream out, but was unable to hold back the tears from his eyes.
The feeling of calm and comfort which had so soothed him through the first transformation was draining away from him as the process operated in reverse.
He pulled his hooves back out from under the pillow to find two fully formed hands encasing them. The embers of the transformation had begun to creep up his forelimbs, and as they did Oliver realized the flesh that was being formed was red and painfully cold.
The transformation was reverting his body back to the moment before he had taken the meds, frost bite and bruises all.
Wincing from the pain his old body was suffering, Oliver curled his body up and held his hands to his chest. There was nothing he could do, so in defeat he simply laid down as the changes ate away his ponybody.
Tears welled up in his eyes, but the almost paralyzing sensation of the transformation kept him from breaking down into a sobbing mess.
A minute or so into the reverse transformation, the embers reached the base of his wings. The moment the first one touched one of his feathers, the entire wing shot up, blooming for a moment in brilliant orange and reds before disintegrating into ash, and then into air.
Don’t, please don’t take them from me.
He heard his despair drenched voice whisper the words, pleading to some observing god to spare his wings from the reclamation. He didn’t know why, but losing them stung worse than the actual pain of his old flesh returning.
Whatever power presided over him did nothing to stop what had been set in motion.
As Oliver clutched his changing body, a strange sensation crept in behind the pain and panic at the front of his mind. It felt like he was slipping out of consciousness. It reminded him of being sedated at the dentist’s office to get his wisdom teeth out. He was falling out of the real world and into a delusion, helpless against it.
The feeling was all the stranger because he wasn’t actually losing consciousness, it only felt like he was. The calming and serene reality was being replaced by a dream- more like a nightmare- of him turning into some hairless ape.
More tears streamed down his face as he grimaced with internal terror at the experience.
Yet the transformation continued, gradually returning his old body back.
The side of him which had smacked against the ground under the overpass was excruciatingly painful, especially since the adrenaline of the night was absent.
Inside of his mind Oliver screamed for it to stop, repeating it over and over again. After five more minutes it eventually did.
Finally a naked, frostbitten and heavily bruised human lay on the floor of the dorm.

Everything felt distant, as though he was underwater.
The ringing in Oliver’s ears slowly died down, and the sounds of morning crept in.
With a moan which for a moment sounded alien to him, Oliver dragged himself over to his room. Light was pouring in through the blinds, and his phone was buzzing from two missed alarms. He had already missed a morning lecture, and had another one in a couple hours.
First things first he downed a couple painkillers from a little bottle he kept under his bed.
With a sluggish struggle, he managed to get dressed before collapsing at his desk. For a moment he sat motionless slumped over in his chair, but after two deep breaths he sat up and hit the power button on his laptop.
As it booted up his mind still felt fazed. The world was ephemeral, like he was still dreaming. As his fingers danced across the keyboard inputting a password, his limbs felt distant and numb.
To try and rouse himself from the miasma he slapped himself, but the stinging did little to help.
Without really knowing what he was doing he brought up google.
We should look into the effects of the drugs Tyler gave you, they were called mare or something like that.
His fingers obeyed the thought, and typed “Mare drug effects” into the search bar.
A small collection of news articles appeared.
Most of them merely made mention of so-called “medical impossibilities” with assurances that researchers were scrambling to understand it. There were no specific details over what those medical impossibilities were.
He scrolled down further until he began seeing blog posts. He clicked on one that claimed to be an FAQ about the drug. What looked like a geocities webpage sprang into view, the glaring whiteness of the screen making him wince from his headache.
Disquieting Times New Roman text came into focus, and Oliver felt a fascination stir in the pit of his stomach. At the top of the page a line of text boldly proclaimed


At least this should be an interesting read.
With a strange hunger Oliver poured over the webpage. The first couple paragraphs seemed to be prayers of some kind, but he had never heard of the gods they were directed at.
Below that, there was a list of the effects.
-Rapid Transformation of one’s physical body into that of a small pony*
-Pervasive sense of calm
-Heightened desire for physical intimacy
-An increased sensitivity to touch
-Dissociative sensations

Below the list there was a small footnote, followed by several blurry phone images of what Oliver recognized to be a transformed person.

*The body of the transformed appears vaguely equine, but resembles nothing living or extant on this world.

Beyond the photos the FAQ Finally appeared. Most of the questions were about safe dosages and fun things to do when you were transformed. They all seemed weirdly infantilizing or demeaning. A few more of the questions were about the specifics of the transformed bodies. Apparently there was a recorded gender ratio of one male for every nine female ponies, even among users who were male to begin with.
Oliver kept reading until he found a question about apparent “Lingering Effects”.

“After the transformed returns to their original body, certain symptoms may carry onward, sometimes for weeks afterwards. The most common of these symptoms is that of dissociation, where the user may feel like their sober life is merely a dream or a delusion.
Other more serious symptoms may be avoided simply by allowing a period of a few days between each transformation. If someone uses M4re more often than that, physical elements of their transformed body may be retained even after the end of the transformation back to their original body. These more serious symptoms are speculated to be able to be reversed given a long enough break from using the substance.
The most common of these symptoms is the retention of the hair and eye colour of the transformed body, over into the original body.”
Oliver tried to imagine his human body with the seafoam hair and yellow eyes of his transformed body. He would look straight out of a bad cosplay competition or an anime convention.
He checked through a couple more of the blogs, but none offered more information than the first. With a sigh he leaned back in his chair and mulled over what the blog had said. The dissociative sensations were a little less spooky now that he knew they were a normal side effect. The author of the first blog was clearly a nutjob of some kind, but at least it was a little interesting to read. Out of impulse Oliver brought it back up and looked around for an email.
Found it, Glitterveil@eqmail.com
He clicked over to his own email and began composing one to this Glitterveil. In the subject line he thought for a moment before simply filling in “Questions about M4re”.
He started off with a bit of thanks for the information on their webpage, before launching into a couple easy questions about how long they had been using M4re and if dosages affected the length of the transformation and to what degree. These were mostly to diffuse the weirdness of the last question. He felt silly even writing it. But his fascination had been piqued and there was nothing else to help it.
“Could you elaborate on the connection between the substance, and your prayers for ‘Migrants’ or whatever?”
Oliver paused for a moment before sending the email, judging himself for the strangeness of it all. He glanced over at his phone to see his next Lecture was now only half an hour away. With a heavy breath he shut his laptop and went about getting ready for the lecture. It was a twenty minute walk from his dorm so he really should get a move on.
What is even the fucking point, you are probably just gunna blow your head off in the next month. Why not lay back down and relax. What is even the fucking point-
With a great deal of effort Oliver forced the negative thoughts out of mind and walked himself out of his room. He locked the door behind him before turning around and continuing down the hallway. When he passed Tyler’s room though, he was unable to stop himself from noticing the door was slightly ajar. Tyler always locked his room. He must have forgotten when he woke up and left for class himself. Maybe waking up with a pony snoozing on the living room couch had thrown off his sense of habit.
It is in there, you know it is
Oliver tried to calm himself, rid himself of the self destructive urges.
The bottle is probably right there waiting for you
For a moment he remembered the bliss he had felt last night.
Just take a look, maybe he hid it away and it's not even there
He extended out a finger, and pushed gently on the door. It swung open another foot or so. Among the piles of books and binders, the still open prescription bottle of light blue pills sat on Tyler’s computer desk.
Oliver felt himself tense up, slightly losing his composure. His left foot began a rapid anxious bouncing as his mind tried to push him away from the open door.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck” He whispered to himself.
I have class today, I can’t fucking miss it. I’m already struggling enough this term, if I miss any more I’ll be fucked. I can’t miss it- You’re already failing almost everything, why do you try so hard when you know you are a fucking failure already. Give in, let go. We can have some fun today instead of- I need to go to class I need to go to class I need to-
Oliver looked to the open prescription bottle. It was waiting there. He had already forked over enough money to probably pay for it twice over. It technically was already his.
I have taken on student loans, I have things I need to do, I need to go to class- If the loans ever get too bad you can always kill yourself! And in the meantime you can actually enjoy today. Don’t you want to do that? Don’t you want to enjoy yourself Little Pon-
Without another thought Oliver surged forward. He nearly stumbled over himself as he seized the bottle and quickly rolled two pills out of it and onto his palm. They barely weighed anything at all. Oliver paused, and then a moment later popped the pills into his mouth already resolved to missing the lecture.
He swallowed them without the need for anything to wash them down.
After he did he stood dumbly in Tyler’s room, taking in the consequences of what he had just done. What normally remained a distant dread for his academic performance shot to the front of his mind. The disgust in himself which a minute before could have been put to some use finally reared itself, sending forth a flurry of admonishment.
eared itself, sending forth a flurry of admonishment.
Oliver walked out of Tyler’s room and closed the door behind him with a measured sloth before heading back to his room.
He slung his backpack off his shoulder and threw it into a corner, the textbooks and binders inside landing with a heavy thud. He set the bottle of M4re down on his bedside table and inspected the label closely for the first time. There was a newer label plastered over an older one, probably whatever non-horse-transformation drug prescription the bottle had originally carried, which had on it the name of the drug and some very basic information.
M4re really was a silly name for it. Way too on the nose.
He let himself fall back onto his bed as he felt the first whiffs of the comfort from the drug begin to well up inside him. He stared at the popcorn plaster ceiling and savoured the quiet mind in which he now found himself. The thought spirals stopped. The constant self hatred and petty little beratements silenced. He took a deep breath as he soaked up the moment, his head swimming in comfort.
When he felt the numbing glimmers of the transformation begin at the tips of his fingers, it was welcomed with gusto. Oliver felt himself shiver in excitement as the painless burning away of the old flesh began to manifest.
What is happening, what is becoming of me?
The transformation this time felt sweeter, maybe a little faster. It was almost as though he was leading it through the motions like a ballroom dance, the anticipation of the next element pushing the current one with an eager speed.
Whatever you are becoming, it is lovely
Already Oliver’s wings slid out of his shoulder blades. In a single action he flexed the remembered musculature from before with enough force to expel both of the nascent wings from his back. An orgasmic catharsis fell over him as he relaxed and allowed the rest of the transformation to transpire. The caress of his painless rebirth lulled Oliver into a trance, and he could feel what seemed like a gentle wind upon his face.The sensation carried with it a feeling of utter freedom and joy.
If he wasn’t almost completely engulfed in bliss, he might have found that strange.
The motes of flesh rising off of Oliver were coming off in such a fast pace it felt almost like he was being consumed and reformed in some crucible of fire. The frost bite and bruising which had remained sore were simply erased as the new flesh took the place of the old.
After five minutes, the transformation burned away the tip of his right ear and he was left laying on his bed, now returned to the same state he was in last night, sans the mild panic.
The affairs of university and even of regular life suddenly felt as distant and irrelevant as the happenings of an obscure and distant land.
Everything was okay.
Everything was exactly right.
The sun was setting as Tyler made his way back to his dorms. His science lab had been a struggle, and the hefty lab manual doubled the weight of his backpack by itself. He still had hours of work to complete, but he was eager to return to the relative solitude and comfort of his dorm.
As he inserted his key into the door he was surprised and slightly annoyed to find it was unlocked. He had told Oliver time and time again to-
There was someone in the dorm. He could hear them moving around making sounds. Oliver had class right now so some random person must be fucking rifling through their room. Tyler’s hands balled up into fists and he pushed open the unlocked door.
“Whoever the fuck is in here you have one chance to explain what you think you are doing before I call campus security.” He called out to a seemingly empty room.
First two green ears poked out from behind the coffee table in the living room, and then a little pony peered up above the table and gave a startled look to Tyler. It was the same pony from last night.
“Oliver what the fuck are you doing here? I thought you had class starting like… twenty minutes ago why are you a fucking pony?”
The little pony was confused for a moment before a look of recognition flashed on its face. In a whimpering voice Oliver replied,
“I.. I wasn’t feeling up to it today, so I just um… I figured I would enjoy some more of-”
Tyler raised his voice in reprimand.
“You didn’t even lock the door, what if someone fucking saw you? You realize this could get me in trouble too right? Especially if after they realize you’ve taken some hard drugs they search our dorm? Jesus fucking christ.”
Oliver looked down at his hooves and gave a pathetic sounding sorry.
Tyler felt the start of a stress headache creeping into his head.
“Just, be more careful please. And at least try to fucking pass this semester or I might have to deal with another roommate after they boot your ass out.”
He couldn’t believe Oliver sometimes. Ever since they first moved in he had struggled with even the most basic functions and schedules of school. Tyler supposed it wasn’t really his business, but having Oliver stumble into the dorm at 3am frostbitten to hell, or pony’d up on drugs when he should be in class sort of threatened to make it his business.
He tried to put it out of mind and instead went to fetch himself some cereal. It wasn't much of a meal, but he felt too lazy to cook up some pasta. Maybe later tonight he would have frozen pizza, but for now some good old fruit loops would suffice.
As he poured himself a bowl, he felt something tug on his pant leg. He looked down to see Oliver next to him, looking up with impossibly big eyes.
“Could you pour a bowl for me too please?” Oliver asked in his feminine pony voice.
Tyler gave an exasperated sigh. He was too tired for this. Without any fuss he pulled out another bowl and filled it with the fruit loops. He then picked up his own and began walking to his room. He stopped when he heard the scratching of hooves on the cabinets as Oliver struggled and failed to reach up to the countertop.
For a moment he considered leaving Oliver to his fate, but he wasn’t that cruel.
“Need help?” He said with a patronizing glint to his voice.
Oliver turned his head and nodded while looking like he was about to cry.
What a dramatic little bitch Tyler thought to himself.
He took Oliver’s bowl and set it down on the ground. The little horse, which was getting increasingly difficult for Tyler to recognize as his moody roommate, picked up the bowl in it’s mouth and trotted over to the living room couch.
With an agile jump he landed on top of one of the cushions before calling out to Tyler.
“If you want to have something in the background while you work you could sit with your laptop as we have some TV on quietly.”
Tyler mulled it over. He usually needed some radio or lofi playlist in the background while he worked on school shit, and the couch was comfier (if way worse for his posture) for typing. With a shrug he grabbed his laptop from his room, noticed the absence of the M4re he had left on his desk the night prior, and sat down next to Oliver on the living room couch.
“So I noticed you went into my room and fetched yourself some more of your horse skittles. Do you have a spare key or something?”
Oliver set his bowl down on the cushion in front of him.
“You left your room unlocked and slightly open in the morning.” He answered nonchalantly. He then lowered his muzzle or snout or whatever it was into the bowl of fruit loops.
Tyler watched in horror as his roommate ate from the bowl like he was a dog. After a couple seconds of staring he pulled his gaze away from the little pony next to him and pulled up a document for school on his laptop. As he skimmed through the assignment, he began eating from his own bowl of loops.
“I would appreciate it, if you didn’t fucking go into my room in the future. Ever.” Tyler said with no small amount of venom.
Oliver seemed unfazed by the severe tone, and answered through a mouthful of cereal.
“I only went in to get the M4re which I've already paid you for. Now that I have it I promise I’ll never go in your room again.”
Tyler wasn’t entirely satisfied, but let the issue drop. Really so long as Oliver never went into his room again then there was no real problem.
He continued scrolling through the assignment before finding an online worksheet that he had to fill out. In the background Oliver fumbled with the TV remote and managed to get some cartoons playing quietly.
For half an hour the two roommates sat comfortably eating their fruit loops.
The worksheet was easier than expected, the answers and paragraphs of explanation flowing effortlessly from Tyler’s fingers. As he filled out the last answer he slumped backwards and let his head fall limply to the side. He only had some readings to complete and he would be done for the night. His relishing was interrupted when he felt something soft sit itself down against him.
Oliver had taken it upon himself to lay himself down right against his thigh.
Tyler felt a little weirded out by his roommate’s touch hungry disposition.
“Oliver what… what are you doing there bud?”
The little pony blushed and avoided making eye contact with him.
“I um.. I saw you had finished what you were working on, so I um… I thought um you might want to um, maybe um pet me or like, maybe just a few scritches.”
The creature that was asking for pets from him seemed so alien and detached from the moody loner he knew Oliver as. In a way that made it seem less strange. It was probably just a side effect of the drugs Oliver had been indulging in. Tyler had enough experience babysitting junkies that some petting was a rather mundane request to him.
He raised up his left hand and set it down over Oliver, before gently scritching his scalp. Just like last night it seemed to quiet Oliver into a blissful little daze. As he scrolled through the reading material on his laptop with his right hand, his left absentmindedly scritched and petted the little pony nestled next to him.
He had always been great with animals, and appreciated their company more than he liked the company of most other humans. Oliver’s presence was not only tolerable in this form, it was quite comforting. More like a therapy dog than some depressed university student.
The two of them sat on the couch all throughout Tyler’s required readings and then some half an hour past it. Oliver had been mostly quiet save for the occasional sharp inhale or murmur of unintelligible delight.
Finally Tyler unceremoniously stood up and gave a final pat to the top of Oliver’s head.
“Have a good night Oliver, try to actually make it to class tomorrow okay. Having you drugged out in the dorm all the time is not the best use of your university days.”
The little pony shrunk a bit in shame.
“I'll try.”
The tone was the familiar hopelessness Tyler had grown to expect from Oliver. It was strangely reassuring to hear it coming from the green mare. As he turned away and took a step towards his room Oliver cleared his throat and spoke up.
“Hey um, It feels a little weird having you call me Oliver when I’m like this. Would you maybe consider calling me something else?”
Unease penetrated deep into Tyler.
“No Oliver, I won’t.”
He quickly turned his back to his roommate and shut the door to his room with a sure force.
Hooves are the most poetic language. Imagine the clip clop as you trot across the floor. Pure poetry.

They just can't resist the urge to pet or be petted.
>Content creators thrive off of encouragement
>you can still make a massive impact by simply, quickly telling someone if you like their work.
I definitely agree with that, and I think silent approval can be a real problem sometimes. A lot of the time it's easiest to just think "wow, this is a great image/story/etc.!" and then just scroll by. But I firmly believe that if someone just spent at minimum an like half an hour (for sketches or quicky one-shot short greens; often many hours, for larger works), then the least you can do is take 30 seconds to type out a reply (and ideally something slightly more thoughtful than just "nice! looks cute!" or something, kek).
Anyway, love the Derpy!

And love the Rara!
Her being already in carousel boutique makes me wonder though, do you already put any thought into the context or story behind your drawings? A lot of your stuff just shows transformations occuring outside around ponyville, which could happen completely at random, but turning into Rarity inside Carousel Boutique intrigues me for some reason. Did going into the Boutique trigger the transformation, or some trinket inside the Boutique? Why did the human go there in the first place?
Or maybe Rarity herself just wants an extra assistant to help her be in two places at once so to speak, and this kind human volunteered for a stint as most beautiful pony?
Intriguing theory. I wish to see it applied in practice.
It was cute. Who can honestly say they wouldn't want to cover Trixie in butter?
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You wake up TF'd into Rainbow Dash, but still trapped in our world.

>Can't figure out how to walk without falling over
>Best of the Wonderbolts, but don't even know how to use your wings
>Your mane gets messy over time and you can't figure out how to balance on 3 hooves to brush it yourself, or how to even hold objects
>You are slowly going from best mare, to most clumsy, uncoordinated, smelly, and disheveled mare

How do you cope?
Do you seek out a trustworthy master? A personal friend? If another horsefag, how do you avoid becoming a rainbow colored cumrag for the rest of your natural horsie life?
how do you pretend that isn't what you want?
I'm hoping for a community wide puzzle challenge wherein we must all hunt down the clues that lead to the portals' location. Which can then only be reached through obstacles only passable by teams of clever earth ponies, pegasi and unicorns working together.
Id try my horse pussy first of all, then spam this thread with pics and maybe lewds.

technically im still me, just with rainbow dashs body, so i dont expect to learn everything there is to being small winged horse in a day, ill eventually figure out how to walk, not being able to fly would be something expected, and regarding my mane id just have to put up with it until i find someoneto take care of me.
That sounds super comfy
Cheerilee in Link cosplay
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you mean Zelda, from Legend of Zelda?
It's only a green hat, nothing else.
>Older more experienced mare pet easing you into the life.
G-got any more?
More training until you can fulfil Dash's potential. Including her potential for lewd poses.
I'm sorry
Monthly or so post letting you guys know I'm alive
I have no idea when it'll be out, I'm sorry and drunk.
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Too bad that they forgot their own life.
it's ok anon we shall wait
I do not wish to be the pet. I want to be a free pony.
We're missing you, dude.
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Well, we're glad that you're still kicking, man.
Come back when you're ready.
I mean, if you're a pony, you'd be free of most debts/obligations.
>Be Kluunii Almuunii, a Jewish resident of the French border village of Rheinstein.
>It is the year 1940 and the Krauts are invading your village and your country.
>Your only safe haven is with a Catholic family you have known since childhood and whose son you have befriended in school.
>However, they always keep you in their basement for most of the day for somewhat obvious reasons. Though it is a massive man cave and you get all of the free booze and TV you want.
>They occasionally even throw parties and have celebrations down there and you, of course, are invited. Though you don’t get to see any of your other childhood friends to start out with because the family is not 100% trustworthy on whom they let in.
>A few months pass. The Third Reich has finally found you out and bring you to a concentration camp just across the border in Germany, but in a rather secluded spot.
>They find out that you have a long-lost twin who had previously lived in the big city of Paris and gotten a university degree.
>They decide to single the two of you out and perform experiments on both of you.
>One such experiment is injecting you with a vial of serum that eventually turns you into some weird talking unicorn with wings that don’t even look like they should get you off of the ground at all, or at least according to all known laws of aviation.
>Your “brother” remains a human, but he is subject to various other experiments that separate the two of you permanently.
>A few years pass. The French government-in-exile led by Charles DeGaulle frees you from your prison, but the safeties of your “brother” and those who housed you remain unknown.
>Sure, those good-for-nothing Krauts have tortured you and abused you, but you are now a member of a herd species and lack the company that members of herd species desire constantly.
Wat do?
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A cute transformation
Sauce? And doesn’t she look a little bit like she secretly wants it?
>>37544642 and yes.
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Why thank you ever so much! Now, being a pony is always going to closer to perfection than being some furless biped, isn't it darling?
Thank you! As for the context/story behind these, I don't really have any specifics in mind when I'm drawing them; my goal is simply to have a background that matches reasonably well with the pony. For the background characters, that was easier to do with any ol' background, though with more developed characters (e.g. the Mane 6), it calls for something like Fluttershy's cottage. Like AJ's farm. Like Carousel Boutique. A benefit is that I think it's a lot easier for the viewer to concoct their own story, and every scenario you gave is a damn good & reasonable way for it to play out. All the same, if you really care about my personal interpretation at the end of the day, I think the former human already had some Rarity-esque qualities to her, was drawn to the boutique's façade and decor, and began to turn into Rarity upon realizing that this... place, this... life, was where she belonged.
Fine, but let's make it quick. I have no time for games, bovine. (This post was made by Oleander Gang Gang)
That's cute. Is she an OC or a background pony I've forgotten about?
Where do we find the pony artefact?
if anyone deserves a nice picture like that its the man who owns that OC. He's a good lad. Glad to say I know him
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Deep in the Amareican Jungles.
With that being said you want to make sure that you can, y'know, escape with it, otherwise your time as a pony is going to be rather short, with all the traps and the natives and the native traps you'll come across
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This is a few days overdue, but here is Fiddly Twang
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I think she's from this.
Thank you for delivering the mares, Anon.
Makes sense. That's a great comic.
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>Fine, but let's make it quick. I have no time for games, bovine.
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Horrifying but presumably some Anons got her hooves.
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Day 37: Candy Mane and Cloverbelle
its another 2 for 1 pony special, so surrounded_by snowpity_10 is in tempo as always.
Hooray, a lucky pony. Wonder if she uses 4chan.
I had a vivid dream last night that I turned into a pegasus pony and flew around evading capture. Has anyone else had success in becoming a pony in Luna's realm?
I've had a few pony dreams.
The pegasus and flying around dream seems to be kinda common for people actually, and I've had ones like that more than once.
Once as Derpy, flying through underground caves while being pursued by tanks.
And once as nameless pegasus flying through deep, flooded river canyons.
I think it's probably the easiest way to get pony dreams, since people have flying dreams all the time, and the brain can fairly easily connect 'I am flying' to 'I must be a pegasus'
There used to be a thread for pony dreams and related things iirc, doesnt it seem to be up right now though
One time I was watching a cream coloured pegasus flying around and practicing tricks near the ruins of a long forgotten castle while I laid on the grass watching her in the clouds.

As for my own pony dream, I was exploring a rocky desert canyon in the middle of the afternoon, moving amongst cacti and bundles of sagebrush at the top of it before unfurling my wings and gliding over the azure river running through it
I’ve had one about turning into an alicorn, having to save Equestria from Nazis, and resettling Jewish refugees.
With the Vichy government gone, would getting a job at a private enterprise work? What about joining a synagogue and befriending the rabbi?
Unbased and cringe
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the only pony dream ive had is a werid double dream-inside-another-dream out of body experience thing. I woke up at 2:30 am or something and started using yt and what not, eventually i remembered pic related and started fapping, THE FUCKING MOMENT I STARTED GETTING INTO IT I FALL ASLEEP AGAIN, the dream was just pic related but with me as rainbow dash, it felt good but eventually figured out this wasnt a good thing, then i woke up startled in my room exect that i was stil rainbow dash and then i woke up again as a hairless ape.
Dont fap at 3am (gone sexual)
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I don't visit /mlp/ often but after I saw someone mention anonstallion I had a brainwave and I decided to finally write my first greentext ever, just a short one. Anyone want to see it?
Yes please
>Be Interrobang
>Also known as the Ponyville Playboy
>The Whorsehound
>The Enter&Bang
>Currently you were… somewhere in Ponyville
>You just woke up and your face is firmly planted in some wet dirt, most likely near one of the rain ditches
>”Mister Interro... ”
>Great. It’s the pigs.
It’s Interrobang
>Your mumble isn’t loud enough to hear
>”You know I have a dream that one day I won’t find you passed out in the street at 6o’oclock in the morning.”
It’s a free country
>”Alright boys haul him off.”
>Two other guards pick you up roughly and drag you all the way through town and throw you into the tiny jailhouse
>And it was tiny. Just enough room for one pony.
>You shakily stand and lean against the wall.
>Bronze Hoof was staring at you in the doorway.
>”Listen mister Interro-”
>”…Mister Interro. Since this is the tenth time this has happened I’m going to have to write-up a special dispensation. No establishment in Ponyville will be allowed to sell you alcohol.”
>Suckers don’t know you make everything you drink
>But still
Oh come now… I’m not that bad
>”You drink every day and we find you passed out in the streets at twice a week.”
>Thank God Alcoholics Anonymous doesn’t exist in Equestria
That’s just how I like to spend the nights you know. You go… um… you have your way and I have mine
>”Right. That actually brings me to my second point being what you did last night.”
Look, whatever you heard isn’t true. I wasn’t even close to any mares. Not that I- you know- I play for the right si- this isn’t about indecent exposure is it?
>Your pretty sure everyone in Ponyville has seen your throbbing horsecock at one point by now.
>”It’s about the racket you made last night”
Oh right. Yeah.
>”’Ace of Spades’ ring any bells?”
One or two.
>”I’ll have to add that to your fine.”
So how much in total?
>”75 bits”
>”Sorry Interro. That’s how repeat offenses work.”
Hold on then.
>You shake your head and a shower of bits begin to fall out of your messy mane
There. Exactly 75, my entire bailout budget! I’ve pumped more money into this town than Celestia!
>Your anger doesn’t even faze him because he knows it’s completely true.
>All those new park benches?
>Your money
>The mayors’ new desk?
>That should be yours!
>Hell the only reason Ponyville has a permanent guard was in response to you!
I literally pay your salary!
>”I know mister Interro. But unfortunately for you, you’re not my boss.”
>Son of a bitch has the audacity to smile.
>He just wants you to commit another crime so he can get a bonus
>You’re not falling for the bait
>He collects up your money with his magic
>”Well then I see no reason to keep you any longer. Enjoy your day mister Interro.”
>He starts walking off.
It’s Interrobang! Bang! Like what I do your sister!
>”See you later ‘stud’”
>He just laughs at you.
Son of bitch!
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It's sure to be a New York Times best seller.
This story is amazing.
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Fixed version.
I had a dream once where I was a likely newly minted petpony who was dragging herself across the ground to get away from my dad. I somehow managed to operate the key fob shit with my hooves and mouth and get in the building, and the rest of the dream after that was just comfy. Snuggled and hung out with other pets and my owner. For the most part though, I almost never have pony dreams.
I've had a double dream like that, non sexual though.
Woke up as a pony in some bizarro version of my house, spoke to the christian god and told him to plant more trees, then woke up after some other bullshit questioning if i'd actually woke up or gone into a 3rd dream.
Fucking surreal.
Wasn't >>37571397 fixed enough already?
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Right in the snowpity.
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>But I firmly believe that if someone just spent at minimum an like half an hour (for sketches or quicky one-shot short greens; often many hours, for larger works), then the least you can do is take 30 seconds to type out a reply
This cannot be stressed enough. Unfortunately this thread hasn't been very good in this respect. For god's sake people, give more (you)s to content creators.
>Or maybe Rarity herself just wants an extra assistant to help her be in two places at once so to speak, and this kind human volunteered for a stint as most beautiful pony?
Someone had to run the Ponyville shop while Rarity runs the Canterlot branch.
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Secure a source of petting and companionship.
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