It was a warm summer weather introduction, and Jesse’s penis was warmer. He typically woke up with blood rushing to it, but more recently he’d had to grow accustomed to a flock of mares greeting it instead. Or him. They were greeting something.

Were mares a ‘flock’, anyways? Like, they weren’t geese. They weren’t a murder of mares, or a parliament of mares, and they certainly weren’t a—

“Herd.”

Oh, that was the one. Jesse turned to the mare to the side of him. “I’ve told you once and I’ll tell you again, I’m not interested. I have a quest of great import waiting for me back in Ponyville.”

“Join herd.”

Jesse turned to the mare on the other side of him. He was kinda balling right now. She removed some papers from the bedside drawer. He squinted at them through the darkness. They were signup sheets. “I’m not joining your herd, and I’m not paying for your lunch either.”

“We’re having lunch?” One of the two mares said.

“Yeah, and you’re paying. Only fair considering you drugged me.”

They couldn’t argue with that logic. Plus, it was only chivalrous to feed a man after his roofie fueled adventure. That was how mutual respect and ethical treatment of others worked, right?

Jesse’s life was a strange one. He ate his free croissants and left. They probably felt cheated because he was too hung to fuck them. Their loss?

That… experience over with, Jesse returned to the task at hand. His short time in Equestria had been eye opening to say the least, but it was occasionally marred with nights like the one he’d just gone through. The pony version of date rape didn’t really do much to him; their drugs were kinda weak and for some reason they referred to them as ‘love potions’ which honestly did sound pretty G-rated and not at all rapey. It was the disappointed looks he couldn’t handle, so he’d gone along with it for a few hours, pretended to have been madly in love with whatever the fuck their names were and let them take turns trying to sit on his cock.

He’d made a promise to Rainbow Dash that she’d be the first, and he intended to keep it. It was mostly because he was so confident that neither of them would succeed that he felt morally secure about allowing them to try.

It was like that old story about King Arthur and the sword in the stone but in fucking reverse my guy.

But yeah, he’d gotten used to a lot of this. Looked like humans were the subject of a lot of special attention in Equestria. He still hadn’t met with the royal sisters yet—in all honesty, he’d been avoiding it until other options looked to be non-existent—but the locals of each town he went to met him with either awe, fear, or lust. Usually some combination of the three. Ponies were a curious race with some pretty backwards societal norms, but they were easy on the eyes so the fact that they acted like such twathammers was kinda forgiveable? Maybe?

He liked some of them. They weren’t all obsessed with jumping his bones. Some even seemed to have it as like… second or third priority.

Jesse walked through the streets of Manehatten, fully aware that he was grubby and in need of a change of clothes. Usually, he’d be awfully embarrassed by that, but he’d kinda gotten used to ponies treating him as if he was a vagrant or a drifter the moment they met him, a poor stallion in need of a good meal and some proper loving attention. And so they took him in and they fed him and they let him shower with them but it wasn’t like any of them had a change of clothes so, y’know…

How many times can you turn a pair of underwear inside-out before it loses its function?

Felt even worse looking like a tramp in a city that looked so much like the kind of place he’d once lived. There was a weird kind of na anachronism in Equestria that didn’t seem to be consistent with anything. Steam powered trains, old wooden candlelit huts and massive fucking glass buildings alongside flashing lights and cars of all things.

Okay so the cars were pulled by horses but they were still cars.

Anyways, the man was on a mission through Manehatten’s shiny streets. He was looking for something very specific and considerably scary, but in his endless search for options, he considered it was probably best he start in what he considered to be the most logical place, medicine.

No, he wasn’t expecting to find dick-shrink pills. If the ones they advertise to grow it on Pornhub ain’t real, then what’s the chances of the opposite holding true? Moreover, he was in search of a more permanent and feasible remedy to his thick predicament, one that he’d known was an option since he first encountered the problem but was only now beginning to realise might be his only choice.

Surgery.

It gave him cold, metallic chills even thinking the word, but any idiot was bound to realise sooner than later that in a world filled with hospitals, surgery was indeed a thing, and that penis reduction surgery was likely also a thing. He couldn’t have been the only one to have encountered this problem in the past, surely. Someone else had to have needed this.

But for now, he just wanted to know about the procedure, the process. He’d asked about and found the name of a popular surgeon in Manehatten: private, expensive, and super experienced. Her name was Clear Cut, which made him cringe a little from the connotations alone, but there was a chance she might be his best shot, his only shot.

Still, it begged a question, was a man willing to compromise his manhood if only to have some shot at a sex life?

It was a pretty good manhood.

But it was also the source of much frustration for him. It was heavy, it kept him up at night, and for the life of him, he couldn’t find a way to wear skinny jeans or tracksuit bottoms.

Oh, and he couldn’t fuck anyone. Did we go over that part yet?

He needed out somehow or another. Deep breaths, he’d get through this, he was only discussing his options. Jesse found the building eventually, a small, homely practitioners somewhere off 12th and Inches street. Two floors up in a typically magazine filled waiting room, he waited for his name. It was hard to mistake it for anyone else’s, his was the only one that didn’t sound like a weird pun.

“Jesse Hardan?” The receptionist called.

Oh. Right.

He stood, was thankful he’d gotten used to doing it slowly and not bumping his head in their stupidly small buildings, and got walking to Clear Cut’s office. Nerves gripped him as he went, but they were outweighed by the pull of his libido, and partially, his own curiosity. He had to know if this was viable. Even if it would destroy him, even if he’d never feel whole again…

He needed to feel holes again.

(Chapter 2)

Three knocks later, he was in and promptly seated. Well, seated was a slight overstatement. The size of the average pony stool or chair was about the size of one of those little play model ones you get in kids’ displays, so he didn’t really sit. More hovered over it and tried not to break it into tiny wooden pieces.

“Please, relax, you’re in good hooves. May I offer you a drink?” Clear Cut, true to her name, was a very well put together mare. The sharp trim of her mane and the shape of her eyebrows alone said everything as to how well-groomed she was.

Ew. That sounded weird when he thought it in his head. Like he was considering the shag of a carpet or a dog.Ponies were kinda the size of dogs. Medium dogs. Jesse quickly remembered the thing that usually happened when mares offered him drinks and shook his head no.

Clear Cut didn’t seem to mind, simply smiling and moving to seat herself. Jesse watched her as she moved. Her fur was a pristine white, much like multiple mares he’d seen in the past but crisp and shinier. It was trimmed so short that he hadn’t even realised she was wearing a lab coat when he walked in. His realisation of the fact was even more strange: ponies seemed more naked when they were wearing clothes.

Even her mane was silvery. She may have been a ghost. Could ghosts perform surgery? In Equestria, probably.

Clear Cut gave Jesse a bit of a funny look as he practiced squats over her chair. “Now, if I may enquire as to the nature of your visit?” She paused for a moment. “Also, your species.” Another pause. “...and your gender?”

Oh, right, most ponies still didn’t know what the fuck a human was. Manehattenites must have been used to seeing weird shit because no one had freaked out since he’d gotten here. “Alright, so, I’ll try and break it down for you quickly. My name’s Jesse, I’m a human being from a different universe, or dimension, or world, or something. Maybe even timeline?” He shrugged. “Not sure. It hasn’t been specified. A human is like a pony but it’s got arms and legs. Well, less legs. There are other differences but I’m not a physician.”

Clear Cut stared at him, eyebrow raised as she jotted notes into a pad with a floaty pen. Jesse still hadn’t got entirely used to things flying around and levitating. “So… you’re telling me that you’re a pony with arms?”

“Essentially.” Jesse held one of his hands out, extending all four digits. “I also have these. They’re kinda neat for holding stuff. No magic, though.”

“Those things kind of look like a magic of their own…” The pretty pale pony seemed almost mystified by his hands, admiring the way they moved and flexed as he pulled in and released his fingers. She quickly caught herself, blinking rapidly. “I’m sorry, I get rather caught up in new discoveries sometimes. And you said your gender was?..” (ASL ASL GIVE ME YOUR ASL BBY)

“I suppose something like a human hand might be pretty intriguing to a doctor?” Jesse looked down at his own not-hooves for a moment. “I mean, sometimes I forget how handy they are.”
Absolute silence. Clear Cut looked at him as if he had a rare strain of autism and she was worried it was contagious.

...shit, he didn’t tell her they were called hands, did he? That’ll be why she didn’t laugh. “Anyways, yeah. I get why it’s interesting. You ponies aren’t exactly the most dexterous, hence your need for magic and stuff, and I can kinda just do most things effortlessly with these babies.” A little finger wiggle for flare. “Oh, and I’m a guy, yeah. Guess I’ll just… get that one out there nice and early. Kinda pertains to why I’m here.”

Upon hearing the last part, Clear Cut’s ears instantly perked up. Like, visibly flicked upwards. “You know, I think you’d be surprised at how limber some of us ponies are…”

Oh god, it’s happening again. It’s happening. She’s doing it. The instant these mares find out Jesse’s a guy they fucking hit on him! Like, incessantly! It’s as if he’s the only available dick for miles!

Smile and shrug it off. Ignore it. Indulging her flirtation was only gonna make things more awkward for him once they got the reason he was here, but he could cope. Lecherous or not, she might be able to fix him. An awkward, yet placid smile. “So… the problem I’m running into is actually of quite a personal and private matter. It’s not exactly something I’m super excited to be talking about.”

Her eyes lost their girlish sheen for a moment. She gave a short nod. “I understand, Jesse. This is a professional establishment, and while we don’t exactly have experience in dealing with creatures such as yourself, I am more than willing to try my utmost to repair whatever it is that is the issue, or at least direct you where I can.”

“That’s reassuring.” Jesse took a breath. Where to start? Couldn’t just jump straight into dick talk, could he? Even in a place like Equestria that didn’t feel quite natural to him yet. “I suppose it’s quite difficult to talk around, so I’ll just get straight to the point. Since I’ve arrived in Equestria, I’ve found that the inhabitants are rather…” a more verbose man might have used a phrase such as ‘amorously inclined’, though Jesse settled with ‘horny’.

A pause, a light blush, and what Jesse could only describe as Clear Cut scratching her neck with her hoof. It wasn’t really a scratch. It was like awkward patting that seemed to mimic the motion. For creatures that couldn’t feasibly do human things, these ponies all too often tried. “Ah, yes, that can often be the case. We are a very amorously inclined species, after all.” Clear Cut likely saw the rapid blinking that followed, as she decided to elaborate by repeating the word ‘horny’ to him.

It clicked then. They were on the same page, though they spoke another language entirely.

Zone back in. Clear Cut’s got more questions. “And this poses an issue to you in some sense?” She tilted her head. “You know, interspecies relations are rather common in Equestria, and I can’t think of any magic nor surgery that could feasibly make you a pony, I’m afraid, if that’s what you came to ask after.” A breathy pause. “Besides, I think you look rather… exotic as you are. I most certainly wouldn’t change you.”

A species change? Jesse hadn’t thought of that before, and he was scarcely entertaining it now. He was all too distracted by having been called ‘exotic’ for the thirtieth time this week. Honestly, can people not think of any other borderline racist objectifying psuedo-compliment for people different to themselves?

Almost made him want to write an article on the current state of equine society and how toxic mares are destroying the fabric of society with their crass, demeaning terms and femgaze.

Nah, that sounded kinda gay.

She was still staring at him. Evaluating him, almost, if the way her eyes travelled was any indication. Of course it was. The author is pointing out the redundancy of the last clause of the second sentence of this paragraph with the inclusion of the third sentence, then compounding that admission and marking it as intentional and ‘meta’ with the fourth. Anything to avoid rewriting.

Back to the present moment. “The interspecies relationship aspect isn’t an issue to me, no.” A beat. “Hold on, maybe it is the issue?” Slight eyebrow quirk. “Okay, trying to word this right: it’s not the moral or ethical aspect of err… consorting with another species—”

“You can say ‘fucking’ if it’s easier for you.”

A forced blink. “Really? Isn’t that like, rude?”

Clear Cut looked at Jesse as if he was a child. “It’s a medical term. What could be rude about it?”

Wow, they really had societal norms in a tombola here, huh? “Well, fuck, okay. Anyways—”

The doctor’s brow furrowed. She looked cute whilst angry. Did guys look cute to women angry, or scary? “It’s still rude if you say it outside of the context of sexual activity. Please try to have at least a modicum of decorum.” She refreshed her smile. “Anyways, you have no issue fucking a pony, correct?”

“That’s about right.” Jesse thought on the question for a moment. “Is this… entirely relevant to me being here?”

The daydream left Clear Cut’s eyes and she sharply cleared her throat. “Absolutely.” A stutter and a false start. “I-I don’t really understand what the issue is if that’s the case. It certainly sounds as if you’re willing and able, so the reason you’re having issue or even decided to come to me in the first place is going right over my head.” She tilted her head. “This might be a… sensitive question, but are you having trouble getting erections?”

Somehow that question stabbed at his manliness more than when his mother had first discovered he owned two Britney Spears albums. “Of course not!” He resisted the urge to clutch at his emotionally wounded junk. “I can still do all of that! It’s just a size issue!”

“Ah, so now we’re finally getting to the meat of the issue.” A snicker. Her eyes seemed a little wider than before as well: attentive. “Are you telling me that your penis is too small to compare with that of the average stallion? Are mares not being left satisfied?”

If Jesse was an anime character he might have had two red lines over his cheeks at this moment and a bulbous vein forming on his forehead threatening to rupture. As it was he settled for a simple glare. “No, actually. It’s the opposite.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve got a big dick.”

“Oh.” A pause. She seemed to reappraise him entirely. “You do realise that for strictly medical purposes, I may have to examine it.”

Alright. That made sense. She was a doctor. She needed to look at his dick. It was whatever. Hell, why did he feel weird about this? It wasn’t like fifty mares hadn’t seen it already. Somehow
this felt more… intimate, though. He felt exposed. “Do you… do you need to right now?”

“The sooner I know exactly what we’re working with, the sooner I can suggest a solution to your issue.”

Ignore the sultry glint in her eye. Jesse was probably just mistaking the look for genuine medical curiosity. With… a fair amount of awkwardness, Jesse dropped his pants and then underwear, exposing his limp dong, which even flaccid was likely larger than that of the average stallion.

Clear Cut’s mouth was agape. It was a natural reaction. She likely hadn’t seen anything like this before. He needed to stop reading into it. She began to approach, moving closer, and Jesse suddenly became extremely aware of his personal space. Why was this bothering him so much? So many mares had acted like this around him at merely the allusion to sexual discussion, and yet here this mare was face to face with his cock and he wasn’t expecting her to be in awe?

She moved closer. He flinched back. It was a strange instinct. “I assume that this is…”

“It’s not hard, no. If that’s what you were going to ask.” Jesse had a hand on the back of his neck. He could feel a hint of sweat and was faintly aware of his own heartbeat.

The doctor slowly cleared her throat. “I’m going to need to see how it responds to physical stimuli.”

Jesse could detect a slight pant in her tone. He resisted the urge to place his hands over his cock and cover it. “Are you sure that’s really necessary?”

“Undoubtedly. I need to understand the length, width, and other dimensions of your tumescence, as well as how it conducts the blood flow. This is a fresh anatomical discovery, I have to explore it from all angles!”

It made sense, surely? But he didn’t like it. She was too eager, too raring to go. She really wanted to see what happened when his dick got big, and somewhere in his mind Jesse was downright convinced that it was nothing to do with her thirst for medical knowledge or desire to expand her field. Rather, it was an entirely different thirst accompanying a desire to expand something else.

But she was insistent, and he caved. She was a professional, right? She knew what he should be doing best, and he should just quit his worrying and go along with it no matter how uncomfortable it made him, right? “Do you… do you mind if I use the bathroom?”

Clear Cut bit her lip. “Right now? Wouldn’t you rather do this first?”

Jesse’s cheeks were burning. “Yeah… but I’d rather do it in the bathroom. I don’t really think I can get, uhh—”

“Hard,” Clear Cut insisted.

“Y-yeah, that. I don’t really think I can do that in here.” You’d think she was ugly or something. She was beautiful. Jesse felt nauseous.

“What, you get performance anxiety? Or do I just not do it for you?”

Jesse blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I said, I guess you just aren’t that into mares like me. I understand if that’s the case, it’s just that—”

Jesse bit his tongue. “I’m going to go to the bathroom now. I’ll be out when I’ve got it up.”

And he left without another word. What was WRONG with her?

What was wrong with him?

Jesse had been a teenage boy before. He was a young man now, and yeah, still pretty constantly horny. Going from a world where sex is a prudish, clandestine thing to be spoken about behind closed doors and only acted out with people you feel a connection with or have the balls to meet up with through Tinder to one where it’s offered up on a platter, where everyone wants him?

It was a dream at first. It should’ve still been now, surely.

But it was all the fucking time. Always. Constant. Jesse wasn’t much of a thinker, and he knew it. He wasn’t the smartest, nor the most witty and entertaining, but he liked to think he wasn’t completely dense and shallow. He may have enjoyed sex, and he may have enjoyed the concept of sexual openness, but in reality, the only reason he was here was so he’d eventually be able to sleep with ONE mare. The others that had come since? They were simply a result of his steadily evaporated willpower, his mental conditioning that as a man he would be mad to ever say no to the one thing most men work and STRUGGLE to receive throughout their whole single lives.

But now he’d grown tired of it. He accepted it was simply the nature of the mares here, that they all wanted to have sex whenever the fuck, and that to a lot of them an exotic creature with a big penis was a huge fucking deal, but to him it was becoming routine. Dull and quotidian.

And these thoughts really weren’t conducive to him getting hard either.

Think about pussy. Warm, wet pussy and ass and thighs and fur which is apparently a turn on too now and all the other wonderful things about sex that’ll get a strong reaction. Jesse needed this to work. He needed to bring himself to full mast and go out there, show her his predicament and find a solution.

Was this really standard medical practice? Should he really be clumsily jerking himself off in an en-suite office bathroom for the good doctor?

Ignore that thought. Just keep going until… ah, yeah, there it goes. Right, that’s good enough.

Bracing himself for what came next, Jesse stepped outside again, one hand around his cock, the other holding up his unbuckled jeans so they didn’t slip to his ankles and make him have to penguin waddle.

And… Clear Cut was laid atop the examination bed. Of course she was.

Ignore it.

“Ah, I see you’re ready, and—” A glance down and her brain seemed to factory reset. “Oh. Oh my.”

Natural reaction. She’s licking her lips now. Just fucking ignore it. “I can see why you’ve been having issues. There’s no way that you can fit that inside of the average mare, is there?”

At least she hit the nail on the head the first time. Most mares saw it as a challenge to conquer, she at least realised it was impossible right off the bat. “Exactly right. It’s been an issue for weeks now, and it’s only becoming more desperate of a situation each time I end up in yet another sexual encounter, which is pretty damn common over here.”

“And magical alteration has been out of the question, I suppose?” Was she salivating? He couldn’t tell.

“I was told by a spellcaster princess that even altering pony parts was super dangerous with magic. I don’t think it’s ever happening with me.”

“And so you considered the surgical option…” Again, she was right on him, hopping off the table and inspecting him at once. She took in each contour and angle of his cock, looking at it every which way, and with his reluctant permission, even grasping it. Her hooves were rather soft, almost pleasant, but they carried with them an unwelcome aura. Jesse stifled a cringe.

After about a minute of touching which Jesse could no longer attribute to anything but lustful interest, he grew impatient. “So, any verdict? Is there something that could be done about this?”

A broad smile. “Well, I’d say the best way to deal with your current predicament would be to give you some form of release. You do look awfully pent up right now, I imagine it’s been a long while since you’ve had a satisfactory orgasm.” A short flare of magic from her horn. “I imagine that with my firm, surgically precise telekinetic grasp, I could make you feel as if you were really inside of a mare.”

“I didn’t come here for that.” There was a bite in Jesse’s tone now. He pulled back from her, made her unhoof him. He’d started to really have enough. “I want it reduced. I want it smaller, or thinner, or somehow made to work so I can have sex like anyone else on this planet. I didn’t come here for sex, or to ‘just have harmless fun’, or for some kind of placebo fuck. I came here for a solution. You’re meant to be a professional.”

She dismissed him with a wave of her hoof. “All things I’m happily willing to discuss later, but having a sperm sample right now would really be beneficial to me. If I have an idea of how your penile glans and the accompanying systems in your body that produce endorphins work, I can ensure that should anyone operate on you in future, it would be with the lowest possible risk to you.”

“Fine. In that case, I’m going back to the bathroom.”

“No, stay here. I need to see how you stimulate it in order to—”

“Fuck this.”

She looked up at him with the standard puppy dog eyes. “What? Why?! Surely you want my help, and for that I need you to help me! I can even make it easy for you, I’m good with my hooves and my magic, even my tongue! Just let me get you off, and then I’ll do whatever you want! I promise!”

Jesse grit his teeth at her. “You’re disgusting. You know something? I’ve had to deal with so many mares ogling at me. So many fucking mares. Chasing after me, wanting me, willing to do crazy and ridiculous things in order to get me in their bed, but you know what? You take the cake.” His voice was raised now. There was a deliberate growl in his voice. His cadence was rapid and breakneck, hands frantic with gesticulation. “You see me come in here with a problem, one that’s clearly causing me stress, one that I need help with, and what do you do?”

“I-I just wanted to—”

“To fuck me?!” Jesse laughed then. It was a sardonic, almost nihilistic sound. No joy to be had in it. “I don’t even know why I’m getting angry right now, why I’m even surprised. I came in here expecting someone who cared about other ponies. I’d heard so many good things. But you’re just the same as all the rest of them, aren’t you? You horrible, manipulative, misandrist cunt. You probably wouldn’t have even operated on me afterwards, would you? Just have your way and be done with me, right?” The words were white hot and burning his chest. He hadn’t realised he had this much anger pent up until now. It was liberating and horrible.

The mare had tears in her eyes. “I wouldn’t… you have to understand, altering something already that perfect would be a betrayal of my Hippocratic Oath, it would—”

“Get out. Get the fuck out of my sight and don’t come back.”

“Th-this is my office.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Get out.”

And so she left. Jesse sat in his newly acquired office and decided to at least do something proactive until security came. He flicked through her medical books, her contact list, anything he could find that might help him out of his situation, but a strong part of him knew that every avenue down this road led to the same mare and the same attitude. He wouldn’t get the help he needed here, only more thinly veiled prostitution. Perhaps if he could find a stallion doctor? That was a laugh. Those didn’t exist.

And so he left with nothing more than a hastily stolen clicky pen and a case of blue balls he was actually quite happy about. Maybe he hadn’t gained much from this experience, but he’d at least crossed one possibility off of his list. Even if surgery was possible, no one was going to be willing to perform it for him here.

So it was back to Ponyville. Perhaps Rainbow had discovered something on her own, or even Twilight. There was always a chance that everyone had suddenly doubled in size while he was gone, right?

Or maybe he’d just have to settle for fucking a yak.

Could he survive that?