My first day at Canterlot High was interesting, to say the least. First of all, there was my sister, who had taken a sudden growth spurt and seemed awfully reluctant to let me go. We’re very close, you see. Next, there was the pink mare that sat across me in class, her eyes a deep purple, her coat pink as cotton candy. A lesser stallion wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off of her all day, and I was certainly one of those.

And to make matters worse, our headmistress was a total fuckin’ MILF. Well, at least, I assumed she was. Celestia must have been a mother, right? With hips like hers, you’d have to assume so. Man, those hips…

And I was bumbling about like an idiot, falling between all of these girls as if I was paralytic, my eyes desperately attempting to focus on anything other than their rapidly rising and falling bosoms, the roll of their hips, the sway of their bodies… Why did every girl in my school walk around as if she was a model, and why were all of them model material to boot? If this was Hell, then I must have been a good boy.

The first lesson I had that day was gym class, and that was a total fucking ordeal. Ever tried to get changed when every other stallion in the locker room has managed to find an awfully convenient peephole? Like, there were dozens of them, and each one was positioned in the best viewing spots of the girls lockers, and each one was occupied by an equally hormonal stallion as me. It’s not fair, I tell you. You know what else isn’t fair? The girls found out.

Then, they hailed me for being a true gentleman, for staying away and not ogling them when I totally could and should have. If I wasn’t mistaken, I swore that I could have heard some disappointment laced in their voices that day, as if they were expecting me specifically to be spying on them or something. This was the beginning of my journey as a harem boy, and God, have I looked back since.

Things used to be simple, now they were anything but. I couldn’t take two steps out of my house without falling into a flank, or hearing the demure giggle of a yandere or tsundere or what-the-fuck-ere. You might think that this would be paradise for a guy like me - believe me, it originally was - but damn, does it get tiring after a couple of months.

The other day, I was in chemistry class with Cadance, and she shared her bunsen burner with me to conduct a test on the burning temperature of magnesium. Chemistry is usually one of the more dead subjects of mine, as I’m not the most scientifically skilled of stallions. Sure, I can mix one thing with another and hopefully not find half of myself on the other side of the room, but that’s the extent of my chemisticial talent.

Anyway, where was I? Ah yes, Cadance. As I was saying, we were burning magnesium over a bunsen burner, when Cadance decided it would be a grand idea to lean just a little bit too close to the burner and ended up burning an eyelash. It would’ve been funny if it wasn’t for the fact that it also resulted in her mascara coming off along with her eyelash, making her look like she’d been a part of an M-Rated film.

It wasn’t as if my cock was complaining, however, as she looked even hotter with her mascara oozing down her face. The teacher did find issue, though, and promptly had her marched off to the toilets to clean herself, and despite my protests, I couldn’t go with her. I had to make a mental reminder to myself to get myself a picture of her in that state.

For scientific purposes, of course.

What else, what else… Ahh, there’s the teaching assistant, Mrs. Cheerilee. I don’t know who handles the hiring/getting-into-the-school process with students and teachers, but I swear they must be the same team or individual, as they have some sort of skill for finding the most attractive students and staff ever. Once again, not complaining at all. As the saying goes; if my grades go down, it’s because my dick is always high. Or, at least, I think that’s how it goes.

As I was saying, Mrs. Cheerilee is, or should I say, was our teaching assistant for most of my first year at the High. The woman wasn’t as attractive as, say, Princess Celestia, or her sister maybe, but that didn’t mean Cheerilee was ugly. Oh no no no, she wasn’t in the slightest.

As a matter of fact, I hadn’t had thoughts of BDSM until I saw her. But now, looking back, my thoughts should have been ‘bail, duck, skedaddle, move’. Shame it didn’t work out quite that simple.

It was all easy until Cadance came into contact with Twilight. My little sister had a propensity for touching me in barely appropriate ways, that and walking around in hardly suitable states of dress. This, of course, did nothing to deter me from spending time around her, and as a cool big brother, I never said a word about her frankly strange actions. How stupid I was. Ignorance is bliss, so they say.

When Cadance met her, the genki girl made first contact with the yandere, and all hope of a peaceful resolution to my school days was soon lost. Twilight played it cool, flaunting her sweet, toned plot with swings of her hips and flicking her tail about, attracting my eyes, while Cadance threw a small internal hissy fit. If one listened closely, they could probably hear the inner ‘ree’ing of a pissy Cadance. When we were alone, she asked me to promise that she was the only girl for me. “Of course,” I told her, much to her delight. “You’re the only mare for me.”

Oh, how I lied.

Because she hadn’t realised how I interacted with the school’s resident tsundere. She was a blue coated mare that enjoyed magic and little else. I once asked her if she enjoyed anything else, such as, like, coffee and bagels - because everybody loves coffee and bagels, of course - and she responded with ‘it’s not as if I like you or anything! B-baka!’, sweat running down her face, her teeth gritted as if she was attempting to bite through a titanium padlock.

I wish I had taken her at face value and left it there. Would have been so much fucking simpler. Of course, being a harem boy, I had no clue how to make up my fucking mind. In such a short time, I’d amassed such a fabulous female following that I was stumped as to how to manage the group. Who did I spend time with more? When should I go out with this one? Why does she have a knife pointed to one of the other girls?

And why does that one have a knife pointed at me? Eh, must be a cultural thing. Fucking Japaneighs.

All of it culminated in a total fucking shitshow eventually. To be honest, I really should have seen it coming. I tried to admit my feelings for Cadance, only to be cut off by Trixie who was confessing her undying love to me, only to have Twilight running into my room demanding me to fuck her, and then, it was Cheerilee’s turn, Celestia at her fetlocks. Don’t even get me started on this random cross-eyed mare I’d never met just appearing at my window either.

And things were so simple for me once, the sweet harem boy.

Would you like to know how I ended up in this position? What manner of universal fuckery coalesced in my total and utter bend-overifcitation at the hands of four, five, maybe six mares that I once thought were totally harmless, sane, and only had a passing interest in me?

Ask on, and I’ll tell you all about Harem’s Law, and my multiple attempts to escape from it. In my adventure, beautiful women will be fucked, my patience will be tested, mares will be accidentally groped - not intentionally, I promise - and my life will be put at risk, but I swear that by the end of it, I’ll finally settle down with one of them.

I mean, I’ll try to, at least. I’ll definitely fuck them all, though, that’s a given. I probably don’t have a choice anyway.