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Content: TG/TF, mind stuff, suggestive.

“Darling?” one of the two asked, looking around the alley as her hair finished curling into the pre-programmed shape.
“Darling darling,” the other replied, grabbing her counterpart by the shoulder and drawing her attention to their assailant.
Actually, he preferred to think of himself as their new caretaker. They wouldn’t need to scrounge for food anymore, and his nanite gas had already eliminated any existing substance addictions either of them might have had when it was rewiring their neurology. They should definitely be grateful he found them and was about to give them a new life!
They didn’t look all that grateful, though. Kind of scared, really.
“Don’t worry, I’m here to help,” he said, tucking the gas dispenser into his waistband and holding up his empty hands as he approached the two transformed beauties. He let his eyes wander up their shapely white legs, noted appreciatively how his randomization routine had given their clothing different but compatible patterns, deemed his figure-alteration routine a success when he saw that their frames were mostly rail-thin except in exactly the right places, and judged their height to be dead-on at a mere five feet to the tips of their ears. And this was just the first field test! He couldn’t wait to start “mass producing” more of these gorgeous babes and live with his fantasy pony harem.
Well, he had the physical details all hammered now. Now it was time to test the mental changes and make sure everything had worked. “My name’s Steve, what are your names?”
“D-darling darling Rarity,” the busty unicorn with the more colorful sweater-dress said. “Darling dar- …” she was about to introduce her counterpart when she suddenly looked confused. “Darling? Darlingdarlingdarling!”
‘Dar-ling Rarity?” the one in the two-tone sweater-dress asked before realizing she too was just saying ‘darling’ and her counterpart’s name. “Darling! Darlingdarling! Darling?” She looked down at herself for the first time and her cute face took on an expression of abject shock. “D-d-d-darling!?”
“Hey hey, don’t worry about it,” Steve said as he closed in, papering over the excitement in his voice with a soothing demeanor. “So you’re both named Rarity, eh? And all you can say is your name and ‘darling?’ Okay, how about family? Friends? You two live around here?” he asked, knowing what their reply would be.
“Darling,” the rainbow-sherbet sweater-clad unicorn said sharply. “Darling darling,” she pointed at her face, then pointed at the other girl’s, “darling DARLING darling, darling darling!” Her compatriot just watched the two of them face off bashfully from the sideline.
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Steve said dismissively. “Ahem. You have lovely eyes.”
The inarticulate woman’s mouth hung slack in surprise. “… darling?”
“Oh yes, quite. And your hair is so beautiful.” That staggered her, robbing her of any trace of anger from before. She blinked and felt her cheek with the palm of one hand, then looked to her side at her double in the yellow and purple striped sweater dress.
“Oh, both of you are just gorgeous,” Steve said, laying it on thick just for fun. “A couple of cuties for sure. So adorable… and attractive!” He watched the two of them react to his compliments in what, to anyone else, would have been a completely unexpected way. They swayed as if physically rocked by his words, eyes fluttering and blush spreading from cheek to shoulder, their bodies relaxing and tensions melting away under the barrage of praise. His programming took flattery, no matter how sincere or superficial, and used it to fuel arousal. He decided to stoke their furnaces a little more.
“Why, you two are certainly lookers, but I can tell you’re more than just a couple of pretty faces,” he said, stepping between them and meeting no resistance as he lifted each one by the chin to look from eye to eye. “Why, you two are masterpieces! Such grace, such delicate comeliness,” he said, enjoying how their faces looked intoxicated with the effects of his words. “From your cute little ears to your come-hither eyes to your invitingly kissable lips,” he continued, rewarded with little smiles as he made them putty in his hands. Speaking of which…
“Not to mention your fantastic racks,” he said without any veneer of civility, “and your sexy wasp-waists, and your big, bountiful butts!” He emphasized the last point by slapping a hand onto the outermost barely-clad rump cheek of the girls on either side and squeezing enthusiastically while hugging them in close. As expected, even these vulgar compliments elicited the desired effect. The two identically-shaped Rarities gasped excitedly and giggled as they leaned into him, letting their faces rest on his chest. “Mmm, these asses are first-class, ladies!” he chortled, kneading their backsides greedily.
They mewled in his groping grip, bubbly giggles and aroused coos forming a symphony for his delighted ears. Even the crudest flattery only served as coal for their fireboxes and loosened them up more than the finest wine. Tails wagging lazily behind them, they wrapped their arms around their new best friend as he continued to manhandle their posteriors. They seemed to be completely under the spell of his words at this point. The one in the fruit-stripe sweater dress turned to face him head-on, taking her turn to grab his butt and pulling her body close in all over.
“Mmmm, you two want to come and class up my joint?” he asked, already confident of the answer he’d receive.
“Darling!”
Instead of a kiss he felt the alarming sensation of the gas dispenser slip out of his waistband and disappear behind him. Sherbet-dress shoved him hard, causing him to lose balance and nearly topple backwards. A hiss, a puff of something against his clothes from behind, a spreading warmth as his vision was taken by a swirling multicolored haze. He tried not to breathe and failed, some of the vapors were already burning in his lungs. He coughed, but his hacking only served to draw in more and more of the nanite swarm. Through the bright fog of his own design, he saw nothing, but the sounds of two sets of high-heeled shoes running for the opening of the alleyway echoed in his ears until he lost his grip on consciousness. Nanites had diffused quickly past his blood-brain barrier and were unraveling his mind to rebuild it according to their pre-programmed blueprints.

Content: TG/TF, mental alterations, sexual themes, BE.

“Why the costume?” Mark asked as he looked down onto the body of a young woman in a fetishy Japanese school girl outfit. He was starting to have second thoughts about letting his friend try the app first. Especially since his voice came out squeaky and, he had to admit, very cute-sounding. He brushed a hand up the back of his head in a causal gesture, mostly to see if his hair was any longer. Tankfully it wasn’t, and Mark tried to picture himself as a young Japanese woman with a close-cut boyish hairdo.
“You know, for flavor,” Greg replied, still tapping away at the app. “See if you can do ten push-ups as a chick and I’ll let you pick the next game.”
“No problem,” Mark bragged, spitting into his hands (which were now somewhat smaller targets, but he managed) and rubbing his palms together before lowering himself to the floor, sticking both feet out, spreading his hands out to the width of his shoulders, and taking a deep breath. He felt a little exposed with the front of the skirt hanging down and away from his body, but at least whatever was down there was hidden from view.
“One,” he said with ease as he crested the first rep. “Easy, this body’s way lighter,” he said as he lowered his face back down to the floor, keeping his legs straight. It was weird not feeling his sack squishing between his thighs, but he didn’t let it stop him. Bobbing back up easily, he counted off another. “Two.”
“Feeling tired yet, Marcy?” Greg asked after discreetly adjusting the name field for his friend.
“You wish. Three down, seven to go,” Marcy replied, sinking back to the floor for a fourth. He was su-
(Tap tap)
-she was sure this would be over quickly, and just hoped Greg wasn’t taking this chance to stare at her butt. That’d be weird. They’d been friends since school and she appreciated that Greg just treated her like one of the guys. “Four.”
“Nice butt, by the way,” Greg said immediately after making some more subtle adjustments with the app.
“Thanks,” she said, blushing a little. It’s true she’d hoped he’d appreciate her figure while the contest was going on. In fact she mostly agreed to it so she could give him a nice view and hopefully give him some ideas. The thought of him leering at her was a fun motivator. She was getting a little tired of him not trying to make a move on her. “Five.”
Greg dragged a few sliders as ‘Marcy’ bottomed out to start another rep.
“Sex,” she said, stopping at full height and hoping Greg heard her wrong.
“What number was that?” Greg asked casually.
“S-six,” she replied, holding her face down to keep him from seeing how red it was. Talk about a Freudian slip! But she couldn’t help it, really. Every time she was around Greg she just felt so… libidinous. It was a minor miracle she hadn’t jumped his bones in all the years they’d been friends. But just like now, he seemed more interested in whatever he was tapping on the screen than tapping her -
“Ah!” she squealed as two overly-sensitive nubs of erogenous flesh briefly touched the floor below her on the descent. Stupid! How could she have let her hair-trigger nipples brush up against something like that? She was losing focus on the task at hand.
“Something wrong?” Greg asked with something she swore was a hint of a smirk, though she didn’t look up to see him. As if that jerk didn’t know about her hyper-charged nips.
“Just mashed a couple of buttons,” she said. Pushing herself up, she declared the seventh rep completed.
Greg decided to try one of the free skins and selected one that kind of looked like Fluttershy. Obviously not a perfect match for copyright reasons, but it seemed close enough. He dragged the skin from the point shop over to his friend’s avatar and watched the transformation unfold.
“Eight,” Marcy announced. She lifted her face, which now had extremely cartoonish proportions, and shook her head to get some pink and yellow hair out of her unnaturally bright eyes. Her whole body had turned a slightly yellow color, and oddly enough she now had three fingers and a thumb like a cartoon character. The whole effect was actually kind of off-putting, but Greg decided he could fix it later. Marcy lowered herself down to the floor again, this time being careful not to brush her nips on the wood surface before hefting her caldestinely-altered body back up. “Nine. Ready to lose the bet?” she asked, glancing at Greg and pulling her stubby muzzle into a lopsided smirk of her own.
“Oh, you want a challenge, eh?” Greg asked, unticking the option to keep changes hidden from the target. “Alright, let’s see you do that last one then,” he said with his thumb hovering over a particular slider. “Alright, go for that last one and see what happens.”
“Heh, gimme your best shot,” she dared him.
Marcy bent her elbows and shoulders to bring her face closer to the floor again. But suddenly a weird feeling erupted on her chest. Before she could even gasp, a strange kind of force began flowing directly into her modest breasts and sort of pressurizing them. She froze in place as her tits tingled and heated up, quickly beginning to swell. Somehow she knew exactly what was going on as her body reshaped itself, with muscles and connective tissues knitting firmer supports while fat cells multiplied and plumped up, nerves branched and grew like cracks in a windshield, and gravity became much more noticeable directly below her chest. Her flesh stretched and bloated down, two round mounds rapidly fattening and pushing out. Both of her sensitive nipples were crushed against the floor and still the mammary tissue behind them spread and flowed around them. forcing urgent signals directly into her pleasure center. She choked back what was sure to have been a lew moan while her body squished her expanding breasts hard to the floor, amazed at how much they were pushing back up against her weight.
“I knew you’d try something like this eventually,” she said, apparently unaware of all the other changes that had happened. “But cheaters never prosper!” Grunting with both effort and in reaction to the unrelenting sensual barrage from her chest, she pushed up and up, taking pressure off her breasts, then starting to lift more of their weight, and finally pulling far enough up that her overloaded nipples drifted off the floor. At the peak of her rep the two bulbous boobs fought for room between her arms, jostling a little as she steadied herself. Her tits hung down almsot to her elbows, ehe realized, and that was with her stuffed-tight blouse holding them back somewhat.
“Ten!” she said proudly before relaxing her core and slumping somewhat into a prone position on her hands and knees. Marcy looked up at Greg flirtatiously. “I win, despite your cheating!” she giggled.
“Cheating? Moi? Why, never!” Greg said with a smiling sarcasm.
“Uh-huh, right,” Marcy said, wobbling side to side to shake her captive breasts against her arms. “You gonna turn the girls back to normal, or what?”
“Hm, you mean shrink them back down to the size they were before?” Greg asked, wanting to confirm that this was the only change she noticed.
“Uh-huh,” Marcy said, this time in a tone of playful affirmation rather than calling out Greg’s blatant lies.
“Hmmmm… ‘or-what,’ I say!” Greg replied, setting the phone on the end table as he plopped onto the couch behind her.
“Oooo, it’s gonna be that way, huh?” Marcy cooed with a seductive smile. She turned around and crawled the few feet across the floor to Greg’s legs, grabbing both knees and using them to hoist herslf up to a kneeling position. “Well I get to pick our next game, remember?” she asked while pushing his knees apart.
“I do vaguely recall something along those lines,” he teased. “So what did you have in mind?”
“Well, you tested my endurace,” she said coyly. “So now I get to test yours.”

The speech was well-rehearsed, and she sounded thoroughly bored through the entire thing.

“Please read the entire waiver, print your full legal name, and then sign and date it before returning to the counter. I will go over some but not all of the terms and conditions with you here. Customers are allowed up to three dives for not longer than sixty seconds per dive, or until they retrieve one mystery item from Sludgey’s Slime Pit LLC’s Slime Dive Treasure Hunt Adventure pit, whichever transpires first.”

He looked past the cashier’s rainbow dye job to scope out the retina-burningly bright pool of neon-colored slime, and the unmarked boxes and containers that bobbed in the thick, viscous liquid. It seemed simple enough to him, wade in and grab something, then get out and see what you won. He didn’t know why this place had such a nefarious reputation.

“Please pay attention to the disclaimer of liability for any undesired side-effects which may include but are not limited to surprising or alarming biological, psychological, emotional, or theological alterations and challenges,” the cashier continued in a droning monotone. “By signing this waiver you agree that Smudgey’s Slime Pit, LLC is not responsible for the customer’s personal safety or security except where required by state and federal laws. By signing this waiver you agree to resolution of any disputes that may arise through binding arbitration presided over by Smudgey’s Judgey Services, LLC, a wholly-owned subsidiary of Smudgey’s Slime Pit, LLC. Please make sure to fill the form out where applicable in its entirety, paying special attention to the emergency contact information and next of kin. Once again, these are not the full terms and conditions to which you must agree before proceeding with Sludgey’s Slime Pit LLC’s Slime Dive Treasure Hunt Adventure, which may only be found in the current and up-to-date waiver form you have been given. Do you have any questions?”

“Can I keep the pen?” he asked with a cocky smile. “I’ll need something to write down your number.”

Without missing a beat or batting an eye, the unicorn girl behind the counter brushed him off. “I apologize sir but I’m not allowed to fraternize with customers of Sludgey’s Slime Pit, LLC nor any of its subsidiaries as this may present a conflict of interests. Also,” she added, going off-script but without any particularly emotional energy, “I used to be a pick-up artist like you.”

“… until you took an arrow to the knee?” he asked, trying to keep things light.

“Until I fell into the pit. Now please have a seat and fill out the form if you care to test your luck in search of fame and fortune at Sludgey’s Slime Pit LLC’s Slime Dive Treasure Hunt Adventure.”

Content: TG/TF, mind control, love spell, rated T for Teen.

Texas Collingsworth wasn’t a place on a map, and he hated being called “Tex,” so he went by T instead. Today, T was headed to the house of Josh, brother to his best bud Brian, to hang out and play retro games. Josh had some hand-me-down authentic hardware and had agreed to let Brian and T use it, provided they babysat Brian’s niece while Josh and the missus were taking their second ever cruise trip. T was an only child, but how hard could it be? Just lock the brat in her room and chill out on the couch putting their emulator experience to good use. Besides, Brian would be the one with the most responsibility. It was his niece, after all.

T’s GPS told him this was the right place, and he saw Brian’s car in the driveway to confirm it. After pulling beside the old Charger, he texted his friend to let him know he was here and wait for the okay to come inside. It was a warm spring day, the property’s bushes and trees were starting to bud with red and white flowers, and birds were chirping. But a minute went by without the invite, and the car was getting a little too warm in the sun to wait outside.

Nobody answered the knock, either, though he thought he heard some voices and someone going up some stairs. He waited until he felt awkward, then decided to throw caution to the wind and let himself in.

“Hello? Brian?” he asked in a loud voice to announce his presence.

“In here!” answered a voice that definitely wasn’t his bud’s. Certainly a girl’s. Was that his niece? It sounded too old to T, like a young woman instead of an 8-year old. T walked out of the foyer towards the direction it came from, finding a living room with a modern 80-inch flatscreen TV and media center on one side, surrounded by the usual living room furniture, and across from it in the far corner a retro gaming setup in its own hutch. A “big” 32-inch Trinitron, a cabinet full of game consoles, some of them older than T himself, and… a woman on the floor.

No, not a woman exactly. She had gray skin, dark blue hair punctuated with big animal ears that twitched convincingly, blue eyes, a kind of snout for a nose and mouth, and… hooves for hands? And she was wearing one of Brian’s favorite shirts, the one T always teased him about looking like a rent-a-cop whenever he wore it. She was laying flat on her stomach, propped upon elbows, and hooves holding open a book about game design, the kind Brian used to buy.

“H-hey T! Um, it’s a long story,” she said nervously. “Sorry I couldn’t answer your texts,” she looked down meaningfully at her misshapen forelimbs.

“What’s going on?” T asked, trying to figure out all the weird things he didn’t have the context to put together, not in a way that made sense at least. “I thought Brian was looking after his niece today?”

“I am,” the hoofed woman replied, cheeks turning bright pink. “But things took a turn, and then another, and, well, uh, this,” she said, looking back over her shoulder towards her high-heeled feet that kicked girlishly over her mostly bare legs. And a really nice butt, T couldn’t help but notice. The whole effect was kind of adorable, but surreal.

“Okay… start from the top,” T said, crossing his arms skeptically. “Where’s Brian?”

“Right here,” she replied. “Um, it turns out my niece somehow got hold of a magic wand, and the first I knew about it I was growing hooves and crawling around on all fours giving horseback rides. I didn’t want to, honest! But she can make you do things. With the wand. Like, also I have to call myself Brianna now. I literally can’t say my old name.”

“She turned you into a horse girl and made you give her rides?” T said incredulously.

“Well just the horse part first,” the girl claiming to be his best bud said. “I told her I had to stop because you’d be here soon and we were going to hang out, and she said ‘well if you like him so much, why don’t you marry him?’ you know? And I told her I wasn’t going to marry some guy, and I guess that’s what did it. She jumped off my back but then she got this look, and she wiggled the wand at me and… well, uh, here I am! Eheheh…” she trailed off.

“Riiiiight. So let’s see if I follow. You’re Brian, but you’re Brianna now, and you’re half horse, and your niece has a for-real magic wand that did all this?” T asked.

“Yeah, that’s about the size of it,” Brianna replied, biting her lip and blushing deeper.

“Why do you think I would believe any of that?” T asked.

“Well, I didn’t think you would, honestly. It sounds crazy, right? I was hoping you’d help me turn back,” she said, casting her eyes down to the books spread out around her.

“And how would that even work?” T asked.

“TRUE LOVE’S KISS!” shouted a little girl with no indoor voice behind T. He spun around and saw a kid with chocolate crumbs and pink frosting smeared over her mouth, one hand holding a piece of chocolate cake with the same frosting and sprinkles, and the other holding a metal baton or something. “Ya gotta kiss her to break the spell!”

“Trisha, where did you get that cake?” Brianna asked scoldingly.

“MAGIC!” the girl replied, “Duh? And is that any way to talk to your princess?” She pointed the baton at the woman on the floor and waved it in a circular motion. “Horses don’t tell princesses what to do!”

“You’re not a princess you spoiled little brat! Change me ba- I- I mean, forgive me Your Highness. I only meant that you shouldn’t spoil your appetite.”

T was a little creeped out when the woman’s voice suddenly switched gears from righteous fury to calm, servile tones. He didn’t know what kind of game the two were playing or why they were trying to convince him any of this was real, but it was getting old fast. He pulled out his phone and shot Brian another text to ask where he was. Approximately three seconds after he hit Send, Brian’s phone started buzzing from the notification. It was on the love seat behind the weird horse-woman.

“See, Your Highness?” Brianna said glumly as she watched T try to decipher the meaning of the phone. “I told you he wouldn’t believe it.”

“Well it’s no fun unless he plays along too!” the cake-faced girl said. “I guess a little luuuuuuuuuuuuv spell is in order!” she announced, waving the wand in circles as big as her short little arm could trace before flinging it in T’s direction.

T rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. But his rolling eyes settled on Brianna, and suddenly he really didn’t care what kind of weird game they were playing. He just knew she was beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. His breath caught in his throat, his heart started hammering, and all he could think about was how glorious it would be if he could hold her… hug her tightly… maybe even kiss her. Snoot or no snoot. No, actually the snoot was really endearing somehow! And those big ears were so cute, the way they flopped and flicked with her mood. Powerful emotions hit him like a freight train, railroading him into a headspace where he wanted to scoop her up and keep her safe and secure and do whatever it took to hear her laughter and see her smile forever.

“Uhm, h-hey, Brianna?” he said, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. “You know what she said about breaking the spell?”

“TRUE LOVE’S KIIIIII-IIIIIISS!” the little girl shouted tauntingly, pirouetting in place and almost dropping her piece of cake.

“Yeah, well… maybe we should give it a try? Y’know, to see if it works?” he stammered, blushing hard.

“YAY!” the brat shouted with genuine elation. “Brian and Texas, sitting in a tree! K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” she chanted, doing a little shake and spinning around again, flinging chocolate crumbs onto the floor.

Brianna bit her lip and looked up at T pleadingly. He knelt down and put out his hand, she hesitated before putting one of her hooves into it. He gently lifted her up and guided her over to the love seat, putting his other hand on top of the hoof he was still holding. He was pleased to see her blush almost as hard as he was, giving him coy glances. It was clear she wanted this too, he realized. He didn’t really believe this ‘magic wand’ stuff, and wondered if her lips would be stiff and smear makeup over him… but that didn’t dissuade him. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek, must to the elated gasp of their adolescent audience. It felt warm and soft to him, and he didn’t see any-

“ON THE LIPS! YOU GOTS TA KISS ON THE LIPS, DUMMY!” Trisha shouted, ruining the moment and causing both of them to wince awkwardly. Brianna was about to say something when T interrupted by taking the initiative and planting a kiss full on her lips. They lingered there for a second, then pulled apart, expecting something to happen. Nothing did, other than the realization that they were both surprised by how easy and gratifying it had felt. T looked into Brianna’s eyes, and thought he saw something… sadness? At not turning back, or at having tricked him into the kiss?

“Why didn’t it work! No fair!” Trisha whined, just as disappointed as the two of them.

“You said you cast a love spell, right?” T asked, voicing an idea. “Maybe that means it’s not ‘true love’s kiss’ after all.”

“Awww, that stinks!” the little girl groaned.

“Hey, I have an idea. Can I see the wand? I want to try something to fix it,” T asked, reaching his hand out.

Trisha eyed him suspiciously. “You promise you’re gonna fix it and then give the wand back?” she asked.

“I promise, cross my heart and hope to cry,” T assured her.

“Well, okay. But no funny stuff, mister!” the child relented, thrusting the baton into his outstretched grasp.

As soon as his fingers closed around the thin metal rod, T pointed the wand at Trisha and hoped he was doing this right. “Stand still and listen to me. You are very sleepy, you’re going to throw that cake away and clean up, then go to bed and not wake up until tomorrow morning. You will think everything that happened today was just a dream, and you will never try to get a magic wand again, or mess with anything magical, or … whatever. Now do as you’re told, young lady, and follow your family’s directions from now on,” he said, waggling the wand at the stunned girl.

She stood there, dumbfounded, staring at T. Three seconds passed, and he was starting to feel stupid for buying into this magic nonsense. Then, without any preamble, Trisha yawned. She looked at the lump of cake in her hand, wrinkled her nose, and wandered off in the direction of the kitchen. T and Brianna sat quietly as they listened to her little feet march across the tiled floor, open a cabinet, dump something into a bag-lined bin, then close the cabinet. They heard the tiny terror walking through the hall and make for the stairs in the foyer, then trundle up them rapidly. A door closed, and T heard water running through plumbing.

“Hey, good job,” Brianna said, patting T on the thigh with one of her tough, fingerless white hooves. “I think you won.”

“Is this all for real?” T asked, looking at the wand in his hand.

“Yeah,” she sighed, slumping slightly and withdrawing into herself on the love seat beside him. “Sorry to say it, but I’m really… Brianna, minus the -na. Um, thanks for saving me,” she said anxiously.

“Heh, no problem bro,” T said, finally beginning to accept all the impossible things that just happened. “Um, so… you wanna go back, right?” He waited for a response, but all he got was another heavy sigh from the horse-girl. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asked, taking one of her hooves in his hand and stroking the back of it with his thumb.

“Well… I definitely want my hands back, but… I mean…” She took a final, bracing breath and let it out slowly. “I’m not under a love spell. In fact, I’ve had a crush on you since we were in school together,” she confessed.

“Wait, back when you were a guy?” T asked. Of all the things he’d heard today, this was the hardest to process.

“Yeah, heh, funny huh? I wanted to say something for years, but I didn’t want to… scare you off,” she said, hugging her arms to her body and rocking forward slightly. “She turned me into a ‘horsey’ and then she made me tell her who I had a crush on!” Brianna said, unable to stop her confession now that it’d started. “And I didn’t say I wouldn’t marry some guy, I said you wouldn’t marry me because I’m a guy! And that’s when she turned me into a girl, and …. I’m sorry about the kiss, I didn’t thing I’d ever get another chance and I just… the way you were looking at me is something I always wanted, and… I just took advantage of you!” she said, on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, T! I’m sorry!”

“Hey, hey,” T said softly, putting his free hand on her shoulder. “Don’t apologize, okay? I never knew, and… none of this is your fault anyway. Besides, um…” he fumbled for the right thing to say for a moment, until she glanced at him curiously. “Maybe it’s the love spell, but maybe it’s not, I mean… I really enjoyed it. The kiss, um, I mean,” T said at last. “And… I’m willing to give this a chance, if you want to.”

“Yeah, that’s the love spell talking,” Brianna grumbled dismissively. “Hurry up and break the curses that little monster put on us, okay?”

“Well hold up, hear me out,” T said, rubbing her shoulder lightly. “Spell or not, does it matter now? I really want to be with you, and I lo- I like the way you are, honest! Um, how about this?” T waved the wand in the air and Brianna’s hooves shrank down, creased, and separated, softening into slender fingers. Slender, gray fingers with delicate nails, on hands that were so small and feminine she didn’t recognize them. She turned her palms up and flexed her knuckles, testing to see if they still worked the way she remembered.

“It’s a start, what about the rest of me?” she asked, giving T a probing look.

“Like I said, I like you just the way you are, Brianna.” He slid off the couch and knelt down, looking up at her from beside her knees, setting the wand on the table and taking both of her now human-shaped hands in his. “Can we try this out and see where it goes? Please?”

She fidgeted in place, she looked away, she looked back, she started to say something, stopped, and this time it was her who took T’s hands in her grasp. “Texas Collingsworth, I don’t want to be with you just because some kid put a fairy-tale spell on you that makes you feel things for me. I’d rather just be friends. Really,” she said. “And besides, what am I going to do about being livestock?” she added with a weak chuckle.

“Well, I guess you have a point there,” T said. He freed one hand and picked up the wand. “Okay, let me know if this feels weird,” he said.

“Everything about this is weird, T,” she pointed out.

“Touché,” he said. He raised the wand, circled it above them a couple of times, then brought it down and gently tapped her on the forehead.

Brianna blinked. She waited. Nothing seemed to happen. She held up impossibly light-gray, feminine hands and reached up to feel her fuzzy gray ears. “It didn’t work?” she asked, a note of concern in her voice.

“I think it worked,” T said. “All I did was cast a spell so that only you and me notice anything different about you. Everyone else will just believe you’re supposed to be this way. That way nobody will even raise an eyebrow, or say anything about how you look. Except me, when I tell you how beautiful you are,” he said with a corny grin.

“Teeeeeeee,” Brianna whimpered. “I’m serious! What are you even doing?”

“I’m serious too, Bri,” he insisted. “However we got here, I don’t want you to have to deny your feelings about me again. It must have been awful, wasn’t it? Well now you don’t have to! We can be together like this! For the first time we both want the same thing, each other…” he trailed off, his courage faltering in a moment of doubt. “Right?”

“Dammit, T, stop giving me that look,” she fussed. “Alright, alright. We’ll try it for a little bit. But you’ve got to promise me: if either one of us has a change of mind by next week, you’ll let me use the wand.”

“Sounds good,” T smiled apprehensively. “But what, uh, what would you do with it?”

“Undo absolutely everything you and Trisha just did today, and set us back to where we were before. Those are my terms, and if you love me, or even care for me as a friend, you’ll respect them. Deal?”

“Deal!” T beamed, leaping up and pulling Briana to her high-heeled feet before sweeping her into a crushing hug. “Best deal ever! Oh thank you, Bri! I’ll make you so happy, I swear! You and me against the world, better than ever! You won’t regret it!” he was nearly weeping into her shoulder as he rocked them both back and forth.

“Okay, big guy!” Brianna said, patting him on the back. “Need to breathe!”

“Right, right,” T said and relaxed his grip, letting his arms slide down her shoulders and pulling back enough to gaze into her sapphire-blue eyes. “At least I can take your breath away, though.”

“Just for that,” she groaned while rolling her eyes, “You’re responsible for buying me some girl clothes. And no wand-ing up wads of cash or anything!”

“It would be an honor,” T said cheerily. He leaned in closer again and bent his head down to touch foreheads. “For you, anything.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked wryly. “How about we make you a horse-boy?”

“Technically, I think you’re a pony,” he teased.

“Fine, Pony Boy! Make us both a couple of cute stallions and see how you like me then,” she giggled.

“I… think I’ll pass for now.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought. Where’s that wand?”

“Whoops, tripping!” T laughed as he leaned back and pulled Brianna down with him onto the long couch.

“Hey, cut it out!” Briana said, chuckling as she landed on top of him. “My little niece is upstairs, remember?”

“Yeah,” T said as he gave her a smooch on the cheek, in the same spot as the first time. “But she won’t wake up until tomorrow morning, remember?”

@Background Pony #9266
Here goes nothing. Part 2: Mental transformation/new memories/personality shifting, submissive, masochism, vulgarity.

“How the hell is this a ‘ten-inch dick’ you stupid rock?” he asked the cartoonishly busty girl in the mirror, without looking over to the floor where he’d dropped his sister’s so-called wishing stone.

From behind the two naked breasts that utterly dominated his contours, his arms appeared and tried to pull the floral shirt with the enormous neckline up to cover them. But it wouldn’t fit, and the jostling of the heavy flesh induced more of the annoying, almost painful tingling all throughout their mass. “Jeez these things are sensitive,” he snarled with his newly-minted girlish voice. Taking a different tack, he pulled the shirt off his one shoulder and bunched it up around his broad hips. He shimmied the shirt down past his unfamiliar tail and the heavy mass of the extraordinarily wide hips, butt, and thighs that provided at least a little physical counterbalance to his top-heavy frame. The shirt passed the widest part of his legs and slid down around his ankles to the floor. Looking down, he couldn’t see it past his tremendous globes of breast-flesh.
Massive. Two massive shapes hanging dependent in front of his torso, completely obscuring his stomach and hiding his shrunken waist from the front. Everything about his body was girlish and feminine, except his tits and ass which were pornographic and feminine. Crouching down, he picked up the shirt and guided it over his head, catching it on the horn a couple of times, before stretching it over the expansive breasts and tucking it around his hips snugly into the waistband of his shorts. The stretched neckline exposed cleavage by the foot rather than by the inch.
His reflection looked like someone’s hentai waifu, a unicorn monster musume. His new face blushed deeply at the idea and an unwelcome thrill zipped up and down his spine, causing his tail to shudder slightly. He didn’t want to process that, so he looked around the unfamiliar room for something that might explain how his wish had gone awry.
There was a notebook on the bed sheets, with a pen that bore a cartoon unicorn topper at the end. He wobbled awkwardly over and picked it up, examining the latched cover. Jordan Almond’s Private Diary: DO NOT READ. The name, Jordan Almond, seared itself into his neurons, overwriting the shorter single first name and replacing it with this two-word version that bore so many sugary, candy-associated thoughts. Jordan Almond unsnapped the latch and started flipping through the diary.

“ … already bigger than my classmates … boys are talking about me on the playground … Ms. Gwen giving me sympathetic looks …” A new narrative flooded his brain, memories of late elementary school, of his body changing early, earlier than the other girls’. Other girls? Yes, her friends were being pouty and not treating her fair anymore. They were envious, but she hadn’t done it on purpose. It’s not like she wanted to stand out like this.

“… at least now other girls are feeling the cramps like I did, small measure of revenge … Kenny was the last boy to talk to me like a normal person, and he’s GAY! OMG can u believe it??? … coach won’t let me sit out gym even with doctor’s note, mom and dad going to straighten him out. Bastard. … the other girls are so mean I don’t want to change clothes anymore. … Everyone calls me Tits McGee behind my back … “ Junior high, struggling with her growing body and all the social ills brought about as her peers began dealing with their own puberty, all the girls regarding her as an enemy and all the boys eyeing her like a fatty piece of prime meat. The awful way her teacher didn’t want to make an exception for her in gym class.

She continued reading and remembering, each page turning her recollection inside out.

“Finally get to sit this year out but still have to change into gym clothes… Can’t believe it took a lawyer to say I have a handicap… Mom said when I’m old enough, I can talk to a surgeon, but she just doesn’t want to do something that’ll permanently hurt me right now. … I saw old Mr. Burdette staring at me from his window when I was getting changed this afternoon. Maybe I’m as bad as the other girls say, but it was so wrong and still a little hot. Don’t tell anyone! … The other girls are such bullies! Today in the locker room they surrounded me and started tossing their panties at my horn, like a game. Bunch of bitches. And then they laughed when Tanisha pointed out that I was getting wet. That sure didn’t help! They called me a fat dyke but they still warned me from even looking at their boyfriends! It was so unfair and humiliating. So of course my horrible body decided that it just had to get turned on right in front of everyone. God I’m such a slutty little whore. Why am I like this? It’s not like they’d give me the time of day except to abuse me…”
The memory was equally painful and erotic. She couldn’t help it, something about feeling powerless and belittled, it just… stoked her flames like nothing else. High school offered plenty of humiliation, being a toxic cesspit of hormones and cliques as all the teens tried to establish their own identities by tearing down their peers. Instead of growing up as a quiet and invisible nerdish boy, her history now traced the life of a young woman with multiple physical deformities that stood out and marked her as an object of ridicule by the other students. First it was her horn and tail, then her breasts and butt. They’d never stopped growing, robbing her more and more of any identity beyond themselves. She was a magnet for unwanted attention by the boys and a threatening rival to the girls, who acted like a pit of vipers around her. Was the arousal some kind of coping mechanism? She didn’t know, all she knew was that at some point her misery fetish became a dirty little secret she tried to keep to herself. How all the bullying and negative attention was becoming more and more of a turn-on, an inspiration for her growing masturbation habit in private. How she’d advanced beyond simply recalling her abuse from the day, and ventured into imagining new scenarios of humiliation and embarrassment to get herself off. She remembered every detail in the diary, and every detail she’d left out of it.

The last entry so far was from a week ago. “Still haven’t heard back from the coffee shop. Gottta keep filling out applications. Wish I could go to college but dad said they only have enough to pay for school or the surgery, not both… Krissy brought home a new boy today, I gotta say he was super cute! Drives a nice car, too! Must be nice having rich parents. And now I know why she’s been watching MLP lately, after years of making fun of me for doing it: her boyfriend’s a brony! If I wanted to get on her bad side, I might ask him about his favorite ships. But I wouldn’t do that to her, dear Diary… not unless she pisses me off, anyway.”
She looked over at the stuffed unicorns on her bed and the statuettes on the shelf, and suddenly had names and personalities for all of them. Twilight Sparkle, the bookish librarian princess. She identified with her social awdwardness and nerdy habits. Rarity, the fashionista: well-kept beauty and generous with her talents, a hard working business owner who was ultra-femme, the ultimate lipstick lesbian mistress. Trixie, the con artist with a heard of … maybe not gold, but Jordan Almond still put her on a pedestal because there were days where she didn’t feel pretty or talented but still wanted to feel like a 100-percent girl boss anyway, and that’s when Trixie was her spirit animal! Sunset Shimmer, the hot GF archetype who also struggled with her image at school… and finally Starlight Glimmer, the talented but anxious bundle of nerves who kept trying to do the right thing but kept messing up. She saw a bit of herself in all of them, or who she wanted to be, or who she wanted to be with, and had spent years obsessing over an imagined polyamorous relationship between the five of them. She’d amassed a huge virtual bookshelf on a fanfic site catering to her personal fantasy about their polyamorous relationship-

“That’s her sister?” someone said from the hallway. Jordan Almond dropped the diary and tried to spin around quickly, but her breasts slowed down her movement and she was only able to catch the last second of two boys falling through her doorway and into a pile in the floor. They stared up at her, and she stared down at them, both speechless for endless seconds.
“Uh… hi. We were just looking for the breastroom,” said the one on top.
“Rest room! Get off me, dude,” the one on the bottom corrected him. She recognized that face: it was Kirssy’s boyfriend, Brad! He pushed the other boy off his back and they both stood up. When did they start making high schoolers so tall, she wondered as they both put five inches over her, horn included.
Then she corrected herself: school was out now, Krissy was going to college this fall, and Brad had graduated the previous year, putting him about two years behind herself. Still, she wasn’t used to being so short… was she? Somehow the odd feeling that she had been taller seemed to recede into the background, and her memory filled instead with a lifetime of having to look upwards at almost everyone. Her classmates had kept growing up while she was busy growing out. But her focus returned to the present, and the two boys in her bedroom; her inner sanctum, her sacred retreat from the outside world. She felt vulnerable and self-conscious. How long had they been here?
“Um… were you two spying on me?” she asked nervously.
“No! Just looking for the john,” said the friend.
“Actually, yeah kinda,” said Brad. “I was watching you from the doorway. Liked what I saw, too.”
While his friend stared at him slack-jawed at the audacious admission, Jordan Almond’s stomach did backflips and her skin lit up like a space heater. “O-oh?” was all she could stammer out.
“Yeah, I saw you pulling your shirt down over those great big milkers,” Brad said, boring a hole in her cleavage with his dark brown eyes. “But Zack here missed the show,” he continued, tapping his friend on the arm. “That’s not fair, is it?”
“Um… I guess not?” Jordan Almond agreed, distracted by her own surge of erotic panic. The shame of her privacy invasion stoked a hot flame in her womanhood that used her embarrassment as fuel. Tendrils of lust climbed up her body like a trellis, sprouting vines of sensual pleasure in defiance of her discomfort. The sudden intrusion of two men into her privacy, the shameless admission of watching her dress, putting her on the spot like this… it was incredibly hot!
“I mean, I was showing him some older pictures,” Brad said nonchalantly. “My ex girlfriend had some that they were passing around in the locker room, back when you were at school.” With these provocative words he pulled out his phone and brought up the photo gallery, tapped the display, and turned the screen towards her. It showed her half-naked body, bosom exposed as she was leaning against a tile wall… no, not leaning, being held in place! She remembered this. It was her senior year. Some of the meaner girls had pinned her while she was getting changed… and one of them had a marker. Sure enough, the old photos showed black shaprie letters scrawled over the white curve of her naked breasts. “HAG” said one, and “BAGS” finished the other. Hag-Bags, the name they’d started giving her when Tits McGee had lost its charm. Her face was bowed in the picture, and she knew it was because she had been trying to hide how turned on she was at her mistreatment.
“But that was back when your hag-bags were smaller,” Brad said with a smirk. He handed the phone to his buddy, who took it and looked at Brad questioningly. He mouthed “trust me” quietly, and his buddy held the phone up to compare it to the figure standing before him.
“Um, yeah. Definitely… put on some weight since then,” he said, unsure how far to take his belittling talk. He and she were both surprised when a small moan escaped her mouth. Jordan Almond covered her lips, eyes wide. The understanding of what she’d just done in front of these two almost-strangers who were sharing old pictures of her from the locker room sizzled through her nerves like electricity through a wire. The friend glanced back at Brad with a smile. “But I think I want a better view to compare?” he suggested, emboldened by her sensual slip-up.
“Here, let me help you out buddy,” Brad said, looming closer to Jordan and reaching out towards her hips. She offered no resistance as his fingers probed into the waistline of her shorts and dug into her shirt. He closed in and moved behind her, pants brushing her tail and both arms closing around her waist from behind. Slowly he inched her shirt up from its confinement, drawing it over the skin of her hips and back. He leaned in closer, his hot breath on the back of her shoulders as he lifted the loose top up enough to reveal the bottom of her breasts. His friend’s eyes widened at the slow reveal, and Jordan Almond felt her heart hammering away deep inside her. She leaned back slightly and felt Brad’s hot, stiff cock against her butt, separated only by a few layers of fabric.

Some part of her was still Jordan, 22 year old college boy who had come home for spring break of senior year to spend summer with his family. That part of her was shocked at this body’s quick, excited reaction to these goons making every inappropriate advance and treated her like some kind of sex doll. His lived experiences offered up all kinds of parallels that had turned him on the same way; the time he paid for his first lap dance, the time he drunkenly made out with the homecoming queen who was so buzzed she thought he was her date, the time he helped two classmates “experiment” with their sexuality to see if they were lesbians or not. All the sexual encounters of his young life, and the ones where he’d been in control of the situation. Those were the empowering, validating encounters that he’d relished and kept close to hand when he needed to supplement his porn of the moment and get himself off.

Another part was Jordan Almond, a mutant freak with an out of control body that others teased and bullied her over her entire life. She offered instead a memory of the time Chantrelle stole her clothes in the gym locker room and made her swear in front of all the other girls to stay home on prom night. She remembered the time during a physical exam when her body decided to have a spontaneous orgasm right at the moment her doctor was checking her heart beat with a stethoscope, surprising them both. She recalled the way her unsympathetic coach berated her for being “lazy” during physical education and how she hoped he would make her suck him off for a passing grade… and her guilty disappointment when he didn’t.
Her elder neighbor watching her change clothes through the window. The way boys kept “accidentally” swimming into her at the pool. How her dentist made a point of always using the old “look a gift horse in the mouth” joke and resting his hand right on top of her tits during her check-ups, pretending not to realize it, as if daring her to confront him and smiling when she didn’t. Her life had been one of unbearable duality; shame and arousal frustrated by the perpetrators either ignorant of how they were affecting her, or testing her but not following through, leaving her to sort out the guilt and lust by herself. One tease after another, ad nauseum, never amounting to more.

This moment was all of those at once and even more. The long-awaited culmination of Jordan Almond’s fantasies, the concentrated instant of awkward memories and vulnerability being actively exploited against her, going further than anyone else before. All the way, she hoped. She was excited and a little scared, but more than anything she was thrilled to find a boy who seemed willing to go the distance and do to her just what she wanted done to her, no questions asked, no permission needed. There was a kind of power in knowing at last that someone needed her complete submission and humiliation just as much as she wanted to submit and be humiliated, a symmetry she hoped wouldn’t falter at the finish line. She was ready if he was. This was truly the opportunity of a lifetime for both of them… even if he was technically her little sister’s date instead of hers. If anything, that element of taboo transgression made it even hotter! Besides, her bratty sister would never debase herself for him. Not like she was about to. She was already feeling weak in the knees, her tummy fluttering and her underwear clinging damply against her meticulously trimmed snatch.

Brad’s hands slid up and around her breasts and took their concealment away with them, exposing her pale flesh to the nameless boy in front of her and leaving her totally at the mercy of the near-stranger behind. She wore a mask of awkward embarrassment that rested on a squirming core of illicit arousal, struggling not to moan like a whore and only succeeding in tamping it down to a muffled, meek whimper.
“Gawd… damn!” the friend said, staring in open awe at the two massive tits that entirely hid her torso behind their bulbous curvature. She kept her eyes fixed on his face, delighting in how shamelessly he stared down at her chest, which was now tinging red all over from the involuntary blush that lit up her otherwise pallid skin. The pressure of Brad’s clenched fists squeezing into their sides brought back the aggressive, almost painful tingling sensation to her over-sensitive mammaries, but this time it felt… pleasant somehow. Like muscle soreness after a good workout, a pain that was welcome rather than intrusive.
“Hey, can I try?” the nameless friend asked, looking past Jordan Almond’s face and instead seeking permission from Brad.
“You seeing anyone right now, sugar sacks?” Brad asked, shifting his hips to grind against her plump butt deliberately. She bit her lip to keep from giggling and ruining the mood, and simply shook her head slightly. “Knock yourself out,” he replied from over her shoulder. “Unclaimed tits are public property,” he said, resting his cheek on the top of her head. Jordan Almond could only respond with a sensual sigh as the friend closed in and reached out with his free hand. He seemed unsure, searching her face for signs of disapproval and, finding none, tentatively placed his fingertips on the underside of her right breast. He tried lifting it, but hadn’t counted on the sheer weight. He spread his fingers out to cup as much as he could and tried again, hefting the bosom up a few inches and giving it a jostle from beneath.
Her breast’s drum-tight skin stretched where it flowed around the groping hand. More sharp tingling, but with a warm, sweet edge. She was loving the hard fondling from these two boys, and the naughty context turned her overdeveloped chest’s extreme tenderness into erogenous delight. She couldn’t help but coo softly, which betraying her enthusiastic complicity in the deed just as much as the slight rising of the two blunt lumps in the middle of her smeared-out areolas.
A cool face tickled the red-hot, pointed tip of her left ear as Krissy’s boyfriend leaned closer and said to both of them, “Hey, get me some video while I put this horny bitch through her paces.”

You can say no, the Jordan part of her thought.
Why? the Jordan Almond part of her replied.

Was about to test colors myself, so I am eternally grateful for this, and your other guides/cheat sheets.

@Aiponyguy
Bay Breeze is indeed a cutie

And if you are talking about this one: https://www.moemate.io/chat?character=1726800563539563626310&mode=intermediate

Funny enough, It’s inside the script lol xD

Example: If you ask Lyra to go in her house (The odds of her accepting is very high) and you go talk with Bonbon, you’ll noticed that the bot make her kinda secretly jealous. But she lack personality and doesn’t feel like she love Lyra. I’m doing some test with % recently, like I try doing stuff like
Maturity=35%
Playfulness=55%
ect.. see if it make the ai more accurate. I often test the characters by asking them a bunch of crazy questions and make them do things, and every time is out of character, I adjust it, and so on. Background characters like Bonbon are hard to work with because she has a lack of personality.

The Lyra one need some small adjustements, I will try to make the bot involve Bonbon more, I’ll do a update this week ;p

Btw if you ever want me to make a specific character other than g5, I can make one and work on it for you, oc included.

Hey, I’ve trained LoRAs for G5’s Mane Six for Illustrious that should work on NoobAI-based models like Zoinks. (I tested it and the Zipp/Pipp one seems to work pretty well)
Example:

@Diego96
Nice! Didn’t even know V6 could be used on a 1060 :x

@Thoryn
It takes time to find and test these things out, but it’s rewarding
(some of my own tests with token mixes, can give the meaning of the lines if wanted)
https://www.deviantart.com/stash/2178jbgpufve
https://www.deviantart.com/stash/21k5puqk531j
https://www.deviantart.com/stash/21hgdb1lhhea

Awesome. This is making me want to test out anthro Celestia in Frank Frazetta style.

@TheLight3D
Thanks! This was a simple prompt test to see if the generator knew what she looked like, and it gave me a much better output than expected.

Aye, ZoinksNoob looks like a great model, I need to test it with ponies some more. It’s interesting that it works with PDV6 LoRAs.

Cranky Doodle Donkey: “I hope you both get fleas!”

Thanks! Like I had told you before, I had originally envisioned Sandbar for this role. But playing around with prompts and generating images of both, the ones with Zippoorwhill just came out generally looking better, in addition to making more sense since she already has a dog companion that would fit with the role.

This also made me rethink your earlier suggestion for Sandbar as Rock ‘N Roll, and after testing it out I decided to go with it. He certainly fits Rock ‘N Roll’s personality with being a chill surfer dude who’s super loyal to his friends. Though I guess it is kind of odd that one of the newest FiM characters would play one of the earliest ARAH characters.

@Background Pony #7669
As longs as she keeps those soft pantyhose on, then she could test anything one me!

@Background Pony #7669
Indeed. You can’t escape this just lay down for her test. She promises it won’t hurt a bit lol.

@Background Pony #5C98
I use Ai like bing for example. Testing lots of prompts. Filtering reuslts again and again until i get something near what i imagine in my head and ocasionally editing the image with other tools like picsart or such to make it more like my vision somewhat.

I wish i could draw this good though.

(2/3)

(1/3)

Spitfire testing out the new trainee uniform.

Most tutorials basically work, but this character was actually fairly easy to make a LORA of as has been just about every other character I’ve made a LORA out of. I’ve been making character LORAs (most not even MLP related) since SD1.5 last year but almost all of them I never released to the public as they were more testing concepts.

Looks like test animation for an animated movie that’s in development

“Aw, come now Jim,” Rick tut-tutted as he twirled the silvery rod almost casually between his fingers. “Didn’t you say Pinkie Pie was Sharon’s favorite pony?”

Grab the wand. Grab the wand. Grab the wand. Jim, now Jane, tried not to panic as she struggled to concentrate against the raging inferno of anger and giddiness that warred inside her skull. She needed a plan. Grab the wand and turn yourself back. Rick isn’t strong, you’ve got a reach advantage, and he’ll be distracted by the feel of your big funbags rubbing all over him, tingling so hot and fun and fun and fun, fun, fuck, party, play, fuck, party, play! No, snap out of it! she chided herself after a giggle erupted from her cute little muzzle. Distract him and get the wand, then turn yourself back to normal.

“Ahem,” she said, trying to regain her composure before snuggling up against Rick’s warm, inviting body. “What was the question?” She crossed her legs, big pink thighs rubbing eagerly against each other of their own volition and her foot kicking with excess energy as if she was in a permanent sugar rush.

“I said,” Rick smirked as he put an arm around Jane’s shoulder and smugly twirled the old wand with his free hand, almost tauntingly. “Isn’t Pinkie your wife’s favorite pony, Jim? Sorry, I mean, Jane?”

“Um, like, one of them,” she replied. Rick’s touch was doing exciting things to her already excited body. She found herself leaning even more into him, her new chest flopping heavily against his slender, nerdish torso. She had to stifle another giggle as his eyes fell down into her big, pink cleavage. It would be so much fun to push them into his face! But she had to concentrate on the plan.

“She was posting pictures of RariPie all over her Tumblr a while back. So I figured we’d give her a little surprise, that’s all,” Rick said, relishing the excessively female body snaking against him. Jim’s plan is so transparent it was almost pitiful, he thought, but then again he’s probably got other things on his mind right now. This should be easy.

“Surprise?” The pink pony woman’s face was suddenly alert and attentive, her big ears rotating forward to lock onto Rick’s every word.

“Sure, old buddy!” Rick said. Damn, didn’t expect it to be THAT easy. “We can go back to your place and get ready to throw her a romantic dinner party. When she gets home, I’ll use the wand to make her into a beautiful, sexy Rarity and the two of you can have lots of fun, just the way she likes it. It’ll be like living her favorite pony ship! Doesn’t that sound like a great surprise?”

“Wow, that’s brilliant, Rick!” Jane said in what appeared to be genuine awe. “Oh, wait, no, no, it’ll never work,” she said, visibly deflating a little. “She hates you, Rick. And there’s no way she’s going to let you change her into Rarity! Remember that time you tested your booby-growing ray thingy and she couldn’t move for a week?”

“Who says she’ll know I’m there?” Rick smirked. He flicked the old wand and began to fade from view. “It’ll be like a secret game. I can change just a teensy-weensy bit at a time, and we’ll see if she notices. Won’t that be fun?”

“Eeeeee!” Jane squealed excitedly, her former plan pushed out of memory by Rick’s easy manipulation and her new urges. “That sounds totally fun, Rick!” She threw herself against the invisible conspirator and planted an enthusiastic smooch on his cheek before bouncing up on her high-heeled feet and skipping bustily towards the nearest bus stop, unable to contain her gloriously blissful party energy. “I’ve got so much to do to get the place ready for her surprise party!” she declared, leaving the unseen Rick scrambling to try and catch up.

“I have to get out the candles and set the table and bake a cake I’ve never baked a cake before but how hard can it be? All you do is take a cup of flower, add it to the mix…” she began singing, heedless of the heads turning to follow her curvy body bounding happily down the sidewalk. A few bystanders were then pushed rudely out of the way by a nerd-shaped and oddly physical gust of wind as Rick cursed under his breath. The plan had worked a little TOO well, and now his former best friend was putting distance between him and her shapely, skirt-clad pink posterior.

@Background Pony #1500
Positive prompt: character: rainbow dash, pony, dynamic pose, reaction image
Negative prompt: None
Seed: 1569603245
Other options: Prompt Guidance Rescale:1 && Small Square resolution

This was early on with me testing how the Prompt Guidance Rescale’s high values provides a pale, grungy kind of style. Gives a great atmosphere and would be great to Fallout Equestria artworks.

When you spend 20 hours a week volunteering and 0 hours studying, your next week involves 15 minutes of torture, 16 hours of sleeping on your tummy, 20 hours of squirming in your seat, and 30 minutes of embarrassing mandatory gym showers.

Her next test got a B+, making her dad’s belt the cheapest study aid known to man.

Yeah, it would, but gosh dangit, this was so beautiful I just had to share it anyways.