(Courtesy warning: Read the tags BEFORE you read the story. Again: Read them BEFORE you read the story. Thank you.)

	"Suck them," The young mare whispered lustily between amorous pants, her eyes swimming with lust as she rocked and wiggled. Her thighs refused to let Louis go, quivering like branches in a breeze at just how overstimulated she was. Those legs did not want to let him go, as she pulled his fuzzy head in against her chest. Soft and firm, but grown hot and heavy in her state. "They ache so BAD!" 

	Louis' tail ecstatically wiggled back and forth as he thrust, plunged and rocked at his own leisure. Flexibility and strong arms and legs allowed him to rest on top of the characteristic chestnut coloration of the halflinger, puppyfat of his firm muscles flush against that pregnant swell of her belly. Awash in sensations that months of inactivity and desolate opportunity had robbed from her, she threw her head back and just basked in the dropped inhibitions. Seemingly unphased by the substantially smaller teenager's weight against her body, improvising and making do with his near due-date ladyfriend. Conforming to her vulnerable shape, like a fuckboy-fluid scouring those hard to reach places. Sporting nothing larger than your average caprine kid, she was generous with her throaty noises as her smaller playmate rut her into her mattress.

	A throaty moan that graduated and accelerated into a neigh as an engorged teat found its way into his mouth. Closing warmly, as though he were trying to fill his mouth with an entire big jawbreaker, his tongue painted over that fat dark teat and explored it with every bud, intimately studying that tit. His imagination forming the most lascivous of topographical maps, as he imagined her taste. The slight bitterness of fat colostrum, the feminine moist skin and softness of her hide, the bodyheat, the plushness of fat. God, Louis loved women. The pregnant ones, most of all. His playmate just relaxing and rubbing his back in encouragement, letting him plow and plug away while he kissed, sucked and tenderly bullied those tits with his lips and ever so lightly, his teeth, until both of them weeped thick, off white cream. It wasn't sweet as you'd imagine- if you knew preggos, the way Louis did. 

	But didn't she look a sight, head laying back and just enduring the waves and the riptide of sex, which she'd gone without for so long. The powerful, lively movements of her foal causing that belly to ripple, and mamamare to sigh, grunt and moan through her nose. A peppering of discomfort, just to let her carrier know junior was still quite awake and alive. Louis could feel the thrashing from his own abs, down to her flush, grasping pussy and the creamy juice squeezing from that muff.

	Louis didn't know why he dug the pregnant body so much. It was downright primal. 

	Long after the sun had gone down, Louis made love to this young woman. It wasn't about cumming himself, it was about sexually bullying this deprived, beautiful, maned sweetie until she collapsed to sleep from orgasms, herself! Somewhere between 17 and 35, he wasn't entirely sure. All he knew is she looked at him with her brown eyes, the way a starving man on an island looks at a pristine, delicious, freshly cooked hamburger. One that'd washed on on their beach, untainted by the sea around it by the hot silver platter it arrived on. Just a snack, ready for consumption. This was about sex and scratching the needs, for mutual enjoyment. Satisfying that lizard brain, with the company of another person to enjoy their body. It needed be no deeper than that.

	Changing positions and locations between bouts of sex, heading from the bedroom for a snack before bending over before him in a trip to the kitchen with a ripple of muscle beneath that chubby butt, stomping the floor in anticipation and need, grasping her house's countertop, lifting her wrapped tail out of the way and saying it all with a violent wink of her pussy. And it was off to the races, as her grool saturated lover swung in and poured himself inside her again! That big, heavy belly swaying beneath her with their combined rhythm, causing both their ears to flick at the humorous sounds of her aching, fat breasts tapping the shelf of her belly. The wet, impactful noises of goat kid crotch smacking the big equine bumpers sticking out behind her, A-framing her legs just to adjust for the differences in their heights. Wet, raunchy bliss.

	Sweet murmurs of gratitude and beckonings to cum, between them. Letting one another touch, to enjoy the feel of eachothers bodies and mysteries of the opposite sex. Even a squeeze, a goose, a caress, and the urge to examine again just wasn't satisfied by one bout. Migrating from bedroom, to spontaneous (if dangerous!) fun in the kitchen, to cuddling on the couch. Clinging to the larger girl like a remora to a shark, the gradeschool-soon-highschool goat stroked over that big belly as they sat naked together, pressed up against her side and playing big spoon while she lay against the armrest. There was room. She'd be much taller than him under normal circumstances, longer as well, and she had a whole assed foal shuddering about in her guts. Gender unknown, but something about the size just screamed, 'boy'. Playing with her navel as he lay behind her, sandwiched between her backside and the couch's backrest, much to her tolerance, and letting his fingers play 'minesweeper' with the little dimples and bulges her spawn made, kick by kick.

	The crotches were wet, but drying. Casual nudity, in the vibrance of their youth and health, cozied up in seasonal weather that was still less than hospitable. A horny youth dead set on exploring every inch of her body, but palming that bulging underswell of her womb had his attention the most. That, and those thighs.. And palming her muff. All while she similarly played with his fluffy mane, cheeks, ran her fingers down his athletic (for his age) chest, and appreciatively cupped those modest nuts with a light hold and touch, just appreciating the flacid potential they held. Even if it was of no use to her in her already gravid state. The relaxing, intimate cooldown of warm bodies.

	There was so much they could have been saying. Maybe they were, but it was communicating through vibes their rational brains couldn't fathom. Instead, they chose to nuzzle and cuddle like mice in a sock, snug and just a molecular phenomenon away from melting together like a cup of ice in the sun. He was not the sire, it was not his honor or job, but he was her playmate for the night. A privilege. A treat. Eachother's little cheat on a diet, sneaking sweet treats. Innocent and clean deviance, in the privacy of her home.

	And then came a ripple through her chestnut belly that hit so hard, Louis could hear it. As if jarred awake by a bump on a bus trip, his playmate mare mama-to-be grunted uncomfortably. However brief the contraction was, it went from a soft round bubble with a firm underlayer, into an iron, chestnut ball that seemed to turn even her skin and fat to straining metal. "Uhnn.." 

	And then it came again, like a violent spasm. Enough so, the ripple violently jarred the woman's hips and thighs ever so slightly in space, making the couch feel like it experienced a tremor. "Uhhnn!" More labored and pained, this time. Big, brown eyes widened and terrified, staring out into the middle distance and away from Louis, as she processed what was happening. Her mouth starting to slide open in confusion and pain. That almost cartoonish, balloon like gurgle's second encore was louder, this time. The contraction lasted only a micro second, but clearly enough to disturb her peace.

	Louis' eyes went wide as he stared his lover over, lips parting slightly. He dare not even question what was happening- it was all occurring too quickly. Her face grimaced, mouth agape and ears lilted, as both her hands clutched the sides of her suddenly much harder, and growing even more firm, stomach, cooing sounds of pain escaping her throat as those big, fat teats oozed pinpricks of creamy colostrum, like a million weeping eyes. "Louis!"

	Throwing her head back with a cry, her pussy suddenly burst with fragrant juices, his semen and slightly pink juice. An eruption, and she was a juicy girl. Spreading her legs apart in her desperation, (what was her name, again? Louis realized he didn't know) whinneying her dismay and fear as the coffee table, the magazines atop it and the carpet got darked and soaked. Alternating between her eyes rolling back in her head, and staring at the growing, discolored mess in her home.

	"Louis!" She called for him again, as though he wasn't still laying behind her against the couch, clutching that strong top thigh protectively and sporting an erection that could've choked a rhino. Her voice guttural, alarmed, hysterical. Pained. "Something's wrong!" 

	Another audible, unrealistic GURGLE, a catch of breath in her lungs, and then an excruciating moan of pain as she started to instinctively turn, and Louis by contrast pulled away, scurrying backwards on the couch as his equine lover got onto her back, throwing one of her hooved legs over the backrest of the couch. That big belly pointing skywards, both of them staring down at it for answers. Each little bulge, thrust and kick preceded by the whimper of mom, as what before was a beautiful expression of life looked more like some sort of uneasy prison. A noise from her throat almost sounded like she tried to burp, but her anatomy would not allow it.

	"L-Lou-ou-is!" She cried, in desperation as her hands lifted from her gravid gut, reaching out for him. Hands Louis moved to take, before a violent LURCH from that pregnant belly saw it drop forwards towards her pelvis, and she wailed an, "OWWWWWWWW!" echoing through her lovely home. Louis brought himself in fearlessly, pressing himself up against that muff fearlessly, body to her swollen underbelly as he tried to get her attention.

	"Hey, hey. Shhh. Hey." He called- Again, not remembering her name. Why didn't he know her name? "It's alright. It's alright, sweetstuff. I'm here." He whispered. Her hands were bigger than his- as they should be. Difference in size, difference in age, difference in breed. The mare's quick, out of control panting started to cool as she stared at him through the dizzying pain in her pelvic floor, tears in her eyes and lips quivering. "I'm not going anywhere. It's alright. I got you."

	Louis' had done so much reading, in the pursuit of his fetish. Some of it ran aground to actual medical knowledge, some of it was hokum and hooey, borne of nothing but assumptions and presumptions by authors, of both internet fiction, western comic and manga persuassion. He knew what her body seemed to be trying to do. He knew what that meant, in relation to him. Neither of them seemed to see fit to find the phone, just laying together and sharing this idelic moment together. Louis could even feel her pussy stretching and puffing, in preparation to the labor soon to be foisted upon it. He imagined they'd be doing this for hours.

	And then her eyes looked into his. Her lids pulled back, her soft lips parted, and she stared passed him. A whine spilled through her nostrils, and three seconds hence, she wailed in agony and brought both their hands to her stomach, as that downright cartoonish gurgling and violent contracting fell through it. Her chest heaving, up and down, hyperventilating as her pupils dilated up. Louis tried to console her, guide her, assuage her, and she tried to retain composure, but something bigger than the both of them was at play.

	Such pressure. Such overperforming labor. Tears poured from her eyes like water through poorly maintained pipes, whiile she started to ugly cry, clutching her belly. Her own contractions taking the wind out of her delirious, gibbering cries, hardening from waterworks into thick, lava-like grunts and groans and strains. Out of reflex, spreading her leg and laying it over the coffee table, giving Louis a clear view up that crowning muff. Like dark flowers blooming, spreading, stretching. All it took was the ambient light of the afternoon to virtually see up to that crowning cervix, blowing like a balloon and showing the bottom of a deflated watery sac, and some manner of muzzle.

	It was coming too fast. It was all happening too fast. Even a pussy as otherworldly, heavenly as whats-her-names wasn't fit to weather so much progress, so quickly. Her eyes were bugging out of her head like saucers, even without screaming or yelling, her mouth open too. Frozen by the intense, overwhelming sensation. Louis could see her pubic crest bulge from the pressure, even despite its equine size. Immovable object fought unstoppable pussy in a bone structure that just wasn't ready for such a vicissitude.

	"Louiiiss!" She screamed, desperately as she gripped the underside of her belly, as if to push it in her desperation. "HELP ME!" 

	But what could he do? Louis began to look around, as if to panic. Horrible outcomes whirled about in his mind. Everything from internal bleeding on the mom, to improper or too sudden changes to the baby's skull. He wasn't medschool trained, he didn't have any real experience.. He was literally a kid! What could he possibly do!? 

	The impulsive thoughts won again. Instinct. Before he could even think about what he should be doing, his hand came up and he lay across that big, heaving belly, bringing his other hand up to pinch her lips with his ring finger and thumb, using his index finger to vertically press over his lips. Seeking out her eyes with his own ghostly blues, he let out a hissing, "Shhhhhhh!!" Insistently grabbing her attention. His other hand palmed that spreading muff, fingers dipping inside. Weighing his meager weight upon her, asserting some measure of control. "You need to relax." He whispered, in a demanding fashion. "You need to relax." Again, emphasizing the relax. 

	She stared at him like a frightened petting zoo attraction, a hair trigger from rearing up against her handler and galloping away. But she listened, despite the excruciating pain. Her chest heaving, still terrified, but alive. "Breathe. Just breathe." 

	"It hurts." She groaned, gurgling and weakly rocking her hips in a clockwise circle. Another contraction was coming. "It hurts! It HURTS! I have to push!"

	"You need more time to stretch!" Louis insisted. What was he even fishing around in that warm, buttery muff for? Outside how good it felt to just sink in, explore, rock against a few places he knew were crowd favorites. And to his credit, a slow, salacious rock did result in an abberant moan that wasn't pain, mixed in with those that were. His fingers, practically closer to a hand, sinking in like a barrier for the foal to rest against, barring progress. Part of him scolded himself for that, at this time. The rest of him made fun of that fuddy duddy, killjoy part of himself, and pointed at the results.

	"Breeeeaaathe."

	"I'm going to burst apart!" The mare howled hysterically.

	"Breeaaaathe." Louis repeated, trying to force her attention onto himself. As self-indulgent and wishful thinking as it was, it did seem to bring her back to some measure of stability. The stimuli. The intimate closeness. The care. Even as she bit her lips and cried bitter tears, as those unreal, noisy contractions came about again. This was all happening way, way faster than it reasonably should, Louis thought. This was dangerous, but she needed him, right now.

	"Just let me push them OUT!" The mare brayed, hoof on the table twitching as if being punished and tortured by her young lover, now physician. Sweaty, mane and hide out of sorts, face puffy from crying and the exertion of each contraction. 

	"You're not ready! If it comes too soon, you're going to break!" Louis bleated out, scowling at her. As if he knew. As if he'd actually studied this on any REAL basis- and he had not. Not really. 

	This misery went on for time Louis did not recall, all the while. His free hand massaged that big equine belly, as it violently jerked and spasmed. And Louis could almost feel like the muzzle was trying to nuzzle his fingers, through the caul and slowly stretching cervix. And then toothlessly nibble. 

	And then bite. Weak. Impotent. Ineffectual. Less toothlessly than previously, in a disconcertingly small window of time for a prenate. This baby had TEETH! Louis' eyes shot open and his concentration broke, removing his hand and bringing it up to stare at his fingers. Only the barest hint of even the most mild of epidermal breaks, the slightest signs of teeth that pinched, and he'd ceded domain in her pussy. That was a mistake.

	The mare, whose name he could not remember, gurgled and wailed miserably as her diaphragm seemed to be drawn taut and strained, as her uterus became like iron bands. A great mass poured through the gates of her birth canal, spreading and damaging the dark folds. A similarly dark head emerging, seemingly impossibly big for the hole it was testing. Louis almost swore he could hear the pubic bone pop! Staring at the muzzle as it emerged first, and the contraction died down. How long was he frozen there, moving to catch it, before the next contraction occurred? Horse Mom's strained grunting, struggling, gripping her couch cushions and fighting for her life as unreal shoulders found their barrier and progress stopped.

	She pushed, and pushed, and strained and cried, and pushed, but it was of no use. As the contraction died down, she threw her head back and started to cry. All while Louis stared down at the emerging, seemingly healthy body of the black foal. 

	And then the foal's eyes opened. And it looked at him. Not the look one expects from a neonate taking its first look at the new universe outside its creator, but the look of something finally able to put a face to the sound of something. Louis couldn't make out exactly what color the not-fully-born foal's eyes were, but they looked at him with a kind of relaxed malice. Towards him, towards their mother, towards the world, or towards something more ephemeral or abstract, he did not understand. But it wasn't right. This thing wasn't right. As he looked from the glaring eyes of the unright something, he gazed up at the heaving, momentarily relaxed pregnant belly, the sweaty, exhausted woman currently panting with her head back over the arm rest of the couch like she were half dead. 

	Something needed to happen, or else this thing was going to be her end. The trouble was... Louis didn't know what. 

	He never got the chance to act on his desperation. The world started to go bright, quieter. The space before him hazy and opaque. As though his periphery filled with steam, then brightness. Her voice calling out for him, weakly, desperately. Exhausted, through the moistureless fog, growing more distant and muffled, each time. Everything faded to white. A white, that may as well have been painted fucking black.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

	Louis woke up.

	He was in his bedroom, as he should have been. The same bedroom that he fell asleep in, seven hours ago. The same bedroom he'd never left, far and away from the mare he'd never met, or the kitchen, bedroom and living room he'd never fucked in, or failed to help in the delivery of a foal that never existed. Just another dream.

	Sitting up in bed, he realized he had his favorite plush under his left arm. Sniffing the air, ghostly blue eyes blearily staring at it as he adjusted it in the ambient light of the night sky pouring through the windows. He held up the slightly glossy body of the lamb plush and examined it. It really was an ugly thing. Aged, in ways he didn't fully understand. He wasn't even sure at what age he acquired it, just that it had always seemed to be by his side. Outside the unusually beige pink mouth of cloth, the rest of it was a darker hue for wool. Tracing over the head and face with his thumb, noticing the distinct lack of teeth to bite or even a mouth to nibble at his digits. And he noted, no sign at all of broken skin on his fingers, like he'd imagined in his dream. 

	Just an active dream. Borne from the mind of an oversexed, overimaginative boy in the tender hours of the night. Gazing down, he registered the pressure of an erection in his loins and reached under his covers with his right hand, adjusting himself. Patting the lamb plush atop her ratty head and setting her next to his pillow, Louis got up and lifted his comforter off of himself. The cream colored kid walked his naked self to his desktop computer and sat down in the chair, switching it out of sleep mode and bringing it to his desktop.

	As predicted, thirteen messages from Cherry, six from Shani and a single link from Peter.

	P.Fieldwatch@Web.Squeak.com: "Hey. Check this out. Electric motor that uses no rare earths! This is THE FUTURE, dude!" Followed by the article. Simple, no emoji spam, no excess of messages. Nothing more than it needed to be.

	Peter's link, he checked first. As he could've predicted, Peter looked excited about electric cars. Louis half smiled warmly, laying back in his chair as he read through the article. He didn't have too many male friends, but it was nice just to have boy shit he could jabber about with someone else. Mechanical things, electronic things, these were what made Peter happy. Simple, and at the same time, very complex. Peter was a rather non-judgemental mouse, and definitely the byproduct of what seemed to be the only boy across multiple waves of sisters, both older than him and younger. The single XY among an ocean of naked barbie dolls and no sign of that stopping after his youngest sisters. It was yet to be known if he'd ever have a brother. If the entire family was anything but white from head to toe, Louis' hadn't seen so much as a patch of it, anywhere. From Peter, to Penny, to Polly. But, he also hadn't seen all of his sisters. If not for Cherry's funny habit of barging in to Peter's privacy, he wouldn't have seen all of Peter, either. But, that's a different subject.

	Shani had uploaded images in their group chat of herself at a concert, showing off her selfies. Of the whole group, Louis knew the least about her. She was a pretty girl, but despite being the same age as them, didn't seem to be having too awful much luck with boys... or girls. He knew she liked boys most of all, though. Perhaps she was a bit of a prude, perhaps she was just reserved, Louis had never bothered to ask. Cute, though. The painted dog was a good girl. And she didn't seem to realize one of the photos she uploaded featured some anonymous girls in the back with their tops off, nipples wet with sprayed champagne and glistening in the background of the selfie. 

	HRNY_B01: "Hey, boobs. nice." 
	.......
	ShaNE1NE1: "OMG. Louis you jerk that's not the point!!!" Followed by an emoji of both a laughing face, as well as a frowning one. Shani had long ago just accepted Louis for what he was. Sometimes moreso than others. He never did her wrong, and while he lived up to his nickname and reputation as one horny kid, she noted, he never made passes on her that weren't hammy irony for a gag. She respected that. The picture disappeared from the group chat, only to be replaced with one that was blurred out to obscure the band groupies in the background giving a free show. The fact she was still up at this hour proved she was absolutely jazzed with excitement from the concert. The old fashioned way! She was a good girl... high on life, alone.

	And then there was Cherry. They called her Cherry, but that wasn't her real first name. The government recognized her as Charity. The pie thing was not a surname; she just liked it.

	CHERRY_PIE: "HEY LOUIS."

	CHERRY_PIE: "LOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUIIIIIIIIS."

	CHERRY_PIE: "YOU FALL ASLEEP GOONING AGAIN?"

	It should be noted that Louis found this accusation mildly (performatively) offensive. He did not, "goon." That bitch (affectionate.) 

	CHERRY_PIE: "WHAT BULLSHIT YOU UP TO TONIGHT?" 

	CHERRY_PIE: "for real man you want to talk about the hind real quick? that was a fucking weird story. Talk to me, man."

	CHERRY_PIE: "LouUUIS. I'M BORED."

	CHERRY_PIE uploaded an image bullying Peter with her breasts. A selfie of a boobhat, with the nerdy mouse gazing upwards. It just managed to catch her grinning feline face, and prematurely plump rack of dark fur, with a hint of red. "LMAO GOT'EM."

	CHERRY_PIE uploaded a video. It had no audio. It was of a pretty upper class pup named Saundra, walking away from them and down the hall. Her prematurely curvaceous ass swayed in ways her age wouldn't suggest was possible. Saundra was one of the lucky girls that got to look ready to graduate from the waist down before she turned fourteen. Blonde as a retriever was capable of, as oblivious to Cherry or the gang's existence as a protagonist in a school sitcom were to the extras. 
	CHERRY_PIE: 'She's such a stuck up snob. God I hate her and her stupid fat ass.' Captioned over the video.

	The rest of them were pictures of fighter jets, space ships and robots, large and small. If it wasn't painfully obvious, Charity was an extremely eclectic girl. She lacked the usual problems with emotional intelligence that "boyish" tomboys sometimes exhibited, while many of her tastes were anything but conventional for girly-girls. She was sometimes mouthy, crass, ridiculous and just as oversexed as Louis, but neither seemed to really register on the other's radar as playmates, for some reason. Not really. Louis wasn't interested, and neither was she. Which was ironic, given how both of them had reputations among their peers and the school as complete hornballs. She as a gremlin, and he a weirdo freak.

	She was also the only one that even feigned interest in his weird stories. Or rather, feigned disinterest in them. For someone that claimed not to believe in any of them, she sure seemed to spend a lot of time asking questions, if only to tease about them. Louid had just come to understand, that was how she showed she cared. That was alright. More importantly, she was about the only girl he could be entirely open with, without any real judgements. Ribbing and rizzing, perhaps. But no shaming. She was the only peer he had that knew he was just as gaga about pregnancy as he was about girls in general. Rather than chide him for it, she just accepted it as normal. At least.

	She was also an incredible rosetta stone when it came to interpreting other girls. Freewheeling and generous and upfront about it, too. Which was good because believe it or not, Louis was a little clueless sometimes, and he knew it. It felt good to have a best friend like Cherry. Despite his own particular blend of headassery, he'd helped her avoid expressing the full breadth of her impudence many, many times. Probably saved her from expulsion, or at least detention, many many times over the years, in one grade or another.

	He also served as a good sounding board as an unbiased male view, for her. She knew she could trust it as such, because Louis was practically a naked set of ganglions, hormones and motor functions squeezed into the form of a jerkassed, preteen boy. While her predictions of boy stuff (reasoning, thoughts) often matched the feedback she got from Louis, some very much did not. It was those unusually deep cuts, she'd found, that were worth paying a little extra attention to, and keeping her eyes out for. Even if they were few, and far between. Boys were tricky, sometimes. Apparently.

	And then the last message were photos of her and Petey hanging out at the Fieldwatch family's house. And Mrs. Fieldwatch getting some photos snapped during some hammy selfies taken by Cherry. Good lord, but Pete's mom was getting huge. 

	CHERRY_PIE: "She said, 'this is your future.' #TheCaucacity #birthcontrol #omg !!" 

	The last photo, Mrs. Fieldwatch was on the left of the picture, side profile. Lifting her shirt up enough for that big, pregnant mouse belly to take up a large portion of the photo, stretching towards the center. Pristine white, with hints of pink beneath the fur. Cherry on the right, facing the digital camera of her phone while her green eyes tilted towards Mrs. Fieldwatch's angry navel, popped out like a marble. Charity looked performatively offended at the prospects she'd be the next victim of fecundity. Or surprised. Or concerned. She was clearly hamming it up like a scream queen on an old horror movie box cover, beholding whatever giant creature they were using cheap camera tricks to make appear like a titan walking over a civilized creature's city.

	More than once, she'd joked about getting teen pregnant on purpose. At least, if it was with Peter. Maybe Mrs. Fieldwatch could just read the room. 

	That brought him to his response.

	HRNY_B01: "Went 2 bed early. had a weird dream."
	CHERRY_PIE is typing..... .. .... .. ....

	CHERRY_PIE: "Oh?"
	HRNY_B01: "Dreamt I was fucking a horse woman, and man it was good."
	CHERRY_PIE: "o let me guess: You fucked missionary or doggy and sucked her tiddies."
	HRNY_B01: "well yes we had sex."
	CHERRY_PIE: "u r so vanilla omg."
	HRNY_B01: "HEY WHO U CALLLIN VANILLA, Ms. POE, "Pees On Eveything""
	CHERRY_PIE: "so what was weird about it?"
	CHERRY_PIE: "also fuck you lmao."
	HRNY_B01: "she started giving birth. it was hot until she started dying."

	This revelation appeared to spark a pause in Cherry's response. From 'is typing' to 'has typed,' and holding for a whole minute and a half.
	CHERRY_PIE: "LMAO OKAY!??!? wtf hrny."
	CHERRY_PIE: "so like did an alien pop out of her or"
	HRNY_B01: "no she just went into agony and the foal wasn't taking no for an answer."
	CHERRY_PIE: "holy shit how hard were you fucking dream woman horny!?"
	HRNY_B01: "cherry why in the hell do you think I'm strong enough to fuck the baby out of a mare!? I needed help opening jam bottles until last week"
	CHERRY_PIE: "I DUNNO DUDE I'VE NEVER FIRED A BABY OUT IN MY DREAMS BECAUSE A MAN WAS TOO ROUGH."
	HRNY_B01: "this raises interesting questions we'll come back to later."
	CHERRY_PIE: "you are such a hornball lmao"
	HRNY_B01: "but no I couldn't reach even a complete 3/4ths way through her pussy. big girl. we had fun, though."
	CHERRY_PIE: "you know what that means right?"
	HRNY_B01: "what"
	CHERRY_PIE: "NOT EVEN IN YOUR WILDEST DREAMS, ARE YOU HUNG LIKE A HORSE."
	HRNY_B01: "o fuk uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu. fuk uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!"
	CHERRY_PIE: "so what did she poop out"
	HRNY_B01: "don't say it like thaaaat. so I tried to coach her through it but she was in super-agony and super scared. felt bad. maybe I did something to set it off."
	CHERRY_PIE: "not likely. that's not how pregnancy works horny. unless you were doing shit like feeding her prostaglandin pepper sandwiches or something."
	HRNY_B01: "well no but we did have a lot of fun with her nipples."
	CHERRY_PIE: "I mean that would contribute to labor but jesus christ presumably you didn't sabotage the pregnancy or something with some abra cadabra protagonist bullshit."
	HRNY_B01: "LOL I DON'T THINK SO!?!? it was a fucky dream not a plotty dream."
	CHERRY_PIE: "^^^^^^^^ says Dr. Horny MD of fuck-you-good home doula delivery service."
	CHERRY_PIE shared video of Ace Ventura pushing a baby out of an African tribeswoman by pressing down on her stomach and launching them across the hut.
	CHERRY_PIE: "this u?"
	HRNY_B01: "based on a true story ma'am. I was the apple core."
	CHERRY_PIE: "L M A O"
	HRNY_B01: "but no. like. I stuck my fingers into her gaping big mare snatch and tried to check her dilation like they do. and felt a face. it gummed at me for a bit and then bit me with teeth."
	CHERRY_PIE: "ewwwwwww. also lmao!?! show the pussy some respect my dude!? miso jenny soup."
	HRNY_B01: "o/` VAGINA DENTATAAA o/`"
	HRNY_B01: "then she started really pushing. like desperate, fairytale, 'help me I'm pushing my own soul into the afterlife while the baby comes out of me' kind of pushing. dunno how to describe that. never seen that outside of movies :c"
	HRNY_B01: "I sure as hell never want to be an OB doc. fr fr."
	CHERRY_PIE: "im sorry. sounds kinda bad. it was just a dream tho."
	HRNY_B01: "I wonder sometimes."
	CHERRY_PIE: "probs best not to go looking hrny. I'm sure somewhere on earth, some horse lady died giving birth last night. You can't go seeing stuff like that in every dream."
	HRNY_B01: "but what if it was real though."
	CHERRY_PIE: "out of curiosity, how big was the foal?"
	HRNY_B01: "oh god they were huge. like, think a pony trying to birth a shire sized jumbo. TUBBY and BIG."
	CHERRY_PIE: "!?! LMAO. you gigantic fucking dork."
	HRNY_B01: "what."
	CHERRY_PIE posted an image she captioned. A man shooting another man in a chair, with 'BIG FUCKING BABY' written over the gun. The man in the chair dying and laying back. The shooter turning to the viewer with "HOW COULD HORNY HAVE DONE THIS?" written above them.
	CHERRY_PIE: "protip: if a woman shoots a tractor out of her pussy and breaks everything on the way out, it's not your fault. you probs didn't even MAKE the damned foal in this dream, did you!?"
	HRNY_B01: "actually I didn't. she literally just needed some fun in the dream. came pre-preg. kinda, strangers meeting in the wild thing. spontaneous."
	CHERRY_PIE: "you gigantic horny dork. you weren't responsible for anything in that dream. blame big bubba the babymaker for that dinosaur."
	HRNY_B01: "but I was trying to buy her babybox time to stretch and pube bone to expand by keeping the foal in. I got surprised and failed."
	CHERRY_PIE: "dunno if you know this lou but real babies don't tend to bite the doctor while in the babyhole."
	HRNY_B01: "I don't even know what to say to that."
	CHERRY_PIE: "dude sometimes there's nothing you can do. period."

	Louis sat there in his chair, shoulders slumped and laying back as he watched the chat scroll. In the back of his mind, he felt guilty. It was just a stupid dream, but it was the dream of a crisis. One in which, he failed. Maybe if he'd just ignore the bite and held them in for just that much longer, maybe if he'd just went harder on trying to calm her down, maybe if he'd.. he didn't know. Massaged her guts to relaxing, maybe!? Or perhaps got her onto the floor to make her opposite leg stretch further apart. 

	CHERRY_PIE: "you're 12 years old. it's not your problem. it's literally not your problem."
	CHERRY_PIE: "are you sulking? stop it."

	Louis eyed the screen. Sometimes it felt like that girl had eyes in the sky.

	CHERRY_PIE: "Louis if it fucked you up that hard, YARRR HARR ME MATEY and read a book. just don't go looking for problems to fix because you had a bad dream ok?" 
	CHERRY_PIE: "ok?"
	.....
	HRNY_B01: "thanks cherry. that helped. fr."

	Louis rubbed his temples and wiped two whole wet dots, not quite tears but proto-tears, from his eyes. Why did such an awesome night dream have to end in such an emotional nightmare? It never happened, but why did it feel so real? The good parts were great, but then it just devolved into something horrific. There was only so much he could do. But, maybe there were things he could've done. He didn't know. It was a fate that could happen to any girl he knew, and that smoldered on the backburner of his mind. Well. Any girl, plus a few specific guys and other designations, technically, but he wasn't in the mood to think about them all by name. Any uterus bearing, pregnancy capable entity, location or abstract concept. There. That should cover all the things that aren't cisgendered females that can be pregnant. The point was, there were gaps in his knowledge, and because of them, people could die. 

	CHERRY_PIE: "going 2 bed mself now hrny. next time u have 1 of those dreams, know wat u can do?"

	Louis eyed the chat scroll. His spidey-sense was tingling. Wait for it...

	CHERRY_PIE: "abort it."
	CHERRY_PIE: "ROTFLMFAO"
	CHERRY_PIE has gone offline.

	And there it was. The last bad joke of the night, and the last word. Cherry went offline, or invisible, Louis didn't much mind or care. Leaning back in his cozy computer chair, Louis gazed out his window at the early morning sky and thought. Licking his lips, he gazed back at his screen and minimized the group chat program to the web browser. He was still sporting morning wood that could've bored safety holes for rock climbing, despite it all. With a wiggle of his shoulders, metaphoric and physical, the night's trauma sloughed off his back like a shed skin. A brief web search, and his favorite subject matter came up for view.

	He needed a pallet cleanser, after that horrid dream. A beautiful body to see, and a good ending. Anything but to remember the terrified face of the mare and the bizarre fruit of her loins.

	Louis leaned back in his chair, dick in hand, setting in to watch the video he'd selected. A hamster woman that was more fat than pregnant was demonstrating how to properly use a semi-solid, translucent purple dildo, giving the camera a warm, sly, inviting look as she explored herself with it. The subtle, fantastic noises of her sex gripping the thing made Louis' eartips twitch through her pants and moans. First trimester, but size didn't matter. No one was, 'a little pregnant.'

	And life went on.