The sheets were half way down Twilight Sparkle's body. As she began to move more, and care less, they gradually slid off her curvaceous adolescent form. Cold Canterlot castle air slipped into the gap as the sheet fell away to expose more and more of her body, progressively chilling her sweaty fur.

She was too close to orgasm to care. Even as the cold started to make her body quiver she nibbled her lower lip and loosed a nasal hum, punctuated by the sharpest, quickest of whimpering gasps when her body rewarded her with another tingle of pleasure.

Twilight's curled muzzle broke into an unsteady smile of anticipation as she realized how close she was getting to her goal. "Hnh. Hnnh yes," she moaned with triumphant satisfaction at the feelings of the steadily rising tide, and the near certainty that her goal was almost upon her hooves.

She wanted to scream, but she knew she couldn't be too loud. Getting caught pleasuring herself would have been bad enough if she was still living at home with her parents and brother, but she had moved into the castle for the summer to study directly under Princess Celestia's tutelage. Fearful of being caught by her mentor, she swallowed hard to keep her pleasure soaked screams from slipping free.

She couldn't steady her foreleg now. It twitched against her slit roughly, twisting and grinding down on her button. Despite the inevitability of what she sought, she didn't want to delay its arrival for a second.

She opened her eyes, and turned to look at her beloved doll, Smarty Pants, as she pleased herself.

In her mind, Smarty Pants was a mighty stallion. He was brave and strong, and most of all, handsome. He could have been one of Celestia's royal guards with his sheer physical prowess and flawless muscular body, but he had no interest in that sort of thing. No, he was a poet and a scholar, and his mind was the sharpest and most famed in all the kingdom. Best of all, he loved her. He loved her more than anything, and, at least for the next few minutes, she loved him too.

Twilight's mind raced with thoughts of all the torrid things her fantasy stallion was doing to her. He held her closely, and tightly. She felt so small in his forelegs. His body cradled hers with pure passion and loving contentment as he drove himself deeply into her. She pressed her hoof firmly on her opening at the moment her fantasy stallion slid his impressive endowment to its hilt. She imagined his length filling her, and his seed pumping into the depths her young body as he climaxed in her embrace.

She rewound her thoughts so she could imagine his climax again and again. She made him feel that pleasure. She had so much power over him, to control the sensations of his body like that. Her very touch drove him mad with lust. The very sight of her robbed him of all reason. She controlled him so completely that even his own thoughts were corrupted with need for her. His mind and body belonged to her, to use for her own ends. Everything he was, belonged to Twilight Sparkle.

With the gentle twinkling of magic, Smarty Pants floated into the air above the bed. Twilight glared at it with a lusty grimace and swallowed hard. She was exhausted, and her foreleg was starting to ache, but she needed more. She needed that last little bit.

Twilight's magic shot Smarty Pants into the headboard of her bed, and pressed him so tightly his fabric groaned and stretched. In her mind, Smarty Pants screamed in panic, crying out. "What are you doing?!"

Twilight gasped out her answer with an airy, pleasure drenched whisper. "Y-you don't get to ask me questions! I can do whatever I want with you! B-beg me! Beg me to stop or I'll kill you."

Smarty Pants' imagined face was filled with fear and betrayal. "No! Please" he begged. "I love you! Why are you doing this?!"

Twilight drew right to the precipice, her hind legs shot out achingly stiff, twitching and thrashing, sending shocks of curling, twitching muscles climbing down her legs and back. "Unh yes!" she moaned. "No. No, you shut up. You're nothing. You're nothing to me." Her whispers were hoarse, as though she would be screaming them with all the force of her lungs, were it not for the fact that others in the castle would surely hear her.

Twilight imagined the heartbreak in Smarty Pants's button eyes; the helplessness; the terror.

The fantasy Smarty Pants wailed with anguish, thrashing in pain and trying to desperately push against the magic field that was holding him in place. Twilight's magic started to tug forcefully on the doll's right eye, and massaged it's crotch, intent on making her fantasy stallion orgasm once more even as he was tortured.

The sound of popping threads was all it took. Twilight's back arched, thrusting her belly upwards, with her foreleg atop it, still madly stroking herself. Her hind hooves and the back of her head pressed hard into the sheets as she bridged her body upward.

The bedsheet that covered her fell away completely now, leaving her heaving body bare to the cold air, and glistening in the beaming moonlight.

She choked softly as she tried to contain the wailing moan of her orgasm as shocks of pleasure blasted through her body. She mostly failed. Her cry of orgasm escaped her, and there was a soft echo coming from the drafty stone corridors outside her room.

Twilight exhaled a satisfied huff and settled her back down onto the bed weakly. She stared at the ceiling, and let her sore forelegs slump limply onto the bed next to her. She breathed slowly, and murmured soft, squeaky sounds at the heady wave of afterglow hit her body.

It wasn't long before a shot of anxiety followed, weighing on her breast. Her lips curled with pain as she turned to look at what she did to her beloved doll. She lifted her slick, glistening forehooves up to her forehead and furrowed her brow. Tears started to well up inside her.

"I'm sorry Smarty Pants," she whimpered as she turned to scoop up her cherished doll and hold him tight to her breast. "I'm sorry. I'm evil. I don't know why I feel these things." She choked up softly. "I don't know why I feel these things, Smarty Pants."

In Twilight's mind, everything she did to her stallion lover was undone. But Smarty Pants itself would still bear the scars of what she had done. Its button eye now hung by a thread.

It hit her now just how cold she was. The air seemed to bite her fur, but her sheets were so soaked that she didn't want to crawl under them. She clung to Smarty Pants tightly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Celestia said from the doorway. She spoke very softly and bore a slow, serene expression of sympathy for her dear student's troubles. She almost whispered it.

Twilight's eyes whipped to her door. She couldn't see Celestia's face, but she could see wisps of gently flowing mane curling around the edge of her bedchamber door. Twilight curled up, and tried to hide the messy patch on her crotch. She hastily wiped her hooves on her sheets, and yelped softly. "Celestia! Oh no.. no, no, no, no, no, no."

Celestia hung her head at the threshold to Twilight's bedchamber, but she didn't look inside. "Please. Don't be distressed. I'm not here to judge you, my little pony." Celestia's voice sounded like a sweet lullaby. A sad, but hopeful lullaby. "I think it's time we had a talk. May I come in?"

Twilight gasped until her lungs were full. "A talk? No. You're kicking me out now? You're kicking me out because of what," her voice dropped to a whisper, "... I did."

Celestia managed to smile peacefully despite her student's distress. "My dearest pupil, sometimes a talk is just a talk. May I come in?"

Twilight swallowed hard and nodded fitfully, reaching up to wipe the tears that were welling under her eyes. "Okay." She sniffed.

Celestia quietly stepped into Twilight's bedchamber, and gently closed the door behind her.

Celestia was a creature of grace and beauty. She always had a warm and caring expression, filled with genuine concern and appreciation for whomever she was talking to. Twilight dreaded the day that Celestia's eternal visage of the purest love might one day turn to revulsion, or fury. She feared it more than anything.

Celestia walked to Twilight's bedside, and looked her pupil in her eyes. Twilight looked back with tear streaked anxiety.

Celestia's words came gently, and calmly. "Have you been told about sex?"

Twilight had difficulty getting her words out. By now, sobs were threatening to rise up out of her. They knocked on her voice like hiccups. "I read-- I read-- It was..." She sniffed.

Celestia's hoof reached out. It came to rest gently on the bed next to Twilight's hoof, with the flat upward, as if she was holding it out to receive something. "And did your book tell you that your feelings are not 'wrong'? They're a part of you, my dear student, a beautiful and important part of you, and they are not to be hated or feared."

Twilight reached out and locked ankles with Celestia, holding hooves tightly. She wiped her cheeks with her other foreleg. "I'm-- I'm afraid I might make a mistake, and do something I'm not supposed to."

Celestia held her student's hoof tightly in return. "And how would that be different from anything else? Every feeling can bring us virtue, and every feeling can bring us ruin; every one. These new feelings you're experiencing are no different. Twilight Sparkle, your desires don't control you."

One of Twilight's sobs escaped. "Then I don't want them, Celestia. I don't want them."

Celestia smiled at that, but spoke softly. "I know that, right now, these new sensations feel so intense, it is as though they would consume you, but it will pass, in time. You will become accustom to them."

Twilight was calming down now, and she nodded softly, averting her gaze from her mentor's eyes.

Celestia continued, "You must be careful, however. Do not experiment lightly with matters of sex. You have the capacity to hurt yourself dearly, and to hurt others even more."

Twilight made a promise that day. She made a promise that she would one day break.

"I won't."

Author's Note

I was asked a question by an anonymous reader that I feel is important. He asks if The Horse Collar (The story this is a sequel to) involves rape, and if it does, he's not interested.

Here's my response:

The Horse Collar is not a story that tries to portray rape in a glorified or titillating light. It's a serious tale about the consequences of forbidden pleasure.

There are two scenes in The Horse Collar with unwelcome sexual touching, but no outright rape, no.

The Scarlet Ribbon will probably be similar. I don't intend to have violent terrible rape scenes to please people with rape fetishes, but the story will center upon the theme of how people treat the weak and vulnerable, and it might get a little uncomfortable.