The Tale of Lady Hoofwise

I wanted to believe that the night before had been a dream; that my sadness had manifested itself in my being ravaged, wishful thinking. When I awoke, he was gone, that satisfied sigh to his breathing, no longer resounding like a knife in my conscience. I rolled over under the sheets  and looked about his tent, noting the finery, the nick-nacks, the bookshelf, then averted my eyes. I cleaned myself with as much dignity as I could muster, my extremities having returned to their usual dimensions, but reeking of the filth of the act. I could be cleansed visibly, but not internally. I washed my mouth out with a glass of water. I still gagged. I styled my mane in the hoof mirror and left the tent; the whap of the wind against the fabric punctuating my escape.

I was numb, blank, the combination of the two events having erased me emotionally. I passed ponies along the way and the looks they gave me told me they knew. They knew, that I knew, that they knew, so they soon averted their eyes. They hadn't helped me, so they could keep their implicit accusations to themselves.  If I had left beaming, or parading myself, they would have been justified.

I went about my tasks with  a lethargy I have never known. Dismantling our, MY, stand blankly. Nopony caught my eye and I didn't care. Let them talk, let them snigger to themselves, It wouldn't change the truth of the matter. Without Max to help me, it took considerably longer, but I bundled my things away independently.

Stan passed by at some stage, his face showing an expression  of blissful ignorance. "Good to see you out and about love." I managed a tremulous smile and nodded. After those ritual pleasantries  were observed, he left me. I mounted and sat on the end of my cart, trailing my hooves, thinking nostalgically of that first day. The events playing back in my mind, adding to my  misery.

As if to complete this  image, it began to rain. Ponies hurriedly packed away their things, ducking from this natural barrage. I just sat there, watching them, like a detached observer. Then Miriam came into view, a white parasol held high, covering her cream coat and pristine jade mane and tail. I regarded her as blankly as the others, thinking she looked like some China doll, delicate...innocent; a single gust of wind might shatter that soon enough.  It was unfair to think of her cruelly, since she and I did have a mutual respect for each other. I only registered her fully, when it appeared she was coming my way.

She stopped a distance from my cart, shading her eyes with one hoof, so obscured was her vision by the rain.

"Hope?" She'd said and wandered closer, I made no move. "Hope." She said more insistently, before planting herself in front of me. Something in her tone made me look up, my eye roving.

Her face was guardedly blank, one lock of her mane batting at her mouth. I imagined she'd come  to yell at me. I didn't know if she and the Ringleader shared anything like Max and I.

"Can I come in?"  she said and I gave a nod. She got in and collapsed her parasol, giving a shiver.

" We need to get you out of the rain." I made no move to comply, so she dragged me backwards into the bowels of memory. Max had come up with this ingenious idea of a collapsing canvas, it was so good that others adopted it. Miriam brought mine down over the entrance, shielding us from the elements. She lit the magic safety torches along the sides, giving us some light.  She busied herself in back, while I made no move.

She came out with a blanket, wrapping me in it and kneeling at my side, giving me a comforting rub on the back. I looked her in the eye for the first time,she looked concern, but after my encounter, I didn't know If I could judge that anymore.

We didn't speak for some time, I absorbed the comfort she offered. Then It all came out in a rush, the whole affair. To my credit I didn't cry, even though I felt like it.  She couldn't have been much older than me, but the comfort she gave, reminded me of those early years with my mother. That safety and security. Her voice had some foreign flair that was pleasing to the ear, giving it an exotic duskiness, that soon lulled me.

She absorbed what I had said stoically. Then came out with her own tale:

"The Ringmaster is not a cruel stallion;at least, he doesn't mean to be. He becomes a slave to his passions, which I know from bitter experience. He has the charm and the looks, but he has no measure of propriety. I caught his eye at an age similar to yours; I kissed him with genuine affection and he returned it equally so. However, he took that affection as a sign of my willingness and...well, you know what came of that. When I heard what had happened.."  She trailed off and I hugged her, a kindred soul in my suffering.

"Although, he never discards us, he feels for us both genuinely. I knew you'd caught his eye that first night, so I did all in my power to distract him, but with Max gone.. I failed you. He will call on you again, being ignorant of the harm he has done.Refusing will not get you anywhere, he will wear you down with gifts, with pretty words; he might even prostrate himself before you and beg forgiveness. You might be much stronger than I, but you will submit." She became teary now.

I gave her hoof a reassuring squeeze "We don't have to." I said quietly. She looked at me in puzzlement, but also a little hope. The cogs in my brain whirring, a plan formed. Miriam listened gleefully, her smile widening. We sealed the pact with a jubilant hoofbump. Now we were inseparable, as we needed to be for what was to come.

Miriam took a trip into town with a list of the items we'd need. I split the cost with her. I say it was my plan, but Miriam added her share to it.

I wasn't exactly happy with what we were going to do, but needs must. The Circus was moving off in the morning, so we needed to be quick. I spent the afternoon preparing myself. Miriam came back as darkness fell, the setting sun giving the whole area a rogue tint.

She'd bought what we needed, with a few words of encouragement, I bade her depart and get ready herself; for the next phase, was the deciding one.

The Ringmaster came back to his tent at his usual hour, having seen that everypony was packed and ready. He passed under the entrance, where we were waiting for him.

"Well hello, Sir" the giggly and seductive voice of Miriam rang out. He started at the unexpected noise, then his expression changed to one I can only compare to having your Birthday and Heart's Warming  come at once. She was sat in his chair, while I sat on her lap. I was kissing her neck and caressing her shoulders. We both gave moans of exaggerated pleasure, while Miriam fluttered her eyes and gave a coquettish smile.

"There's a drink on the side we thought you'd like" I pressed my face into hers and turned to look at him. "You can sit back and relax, maybe we'll let you join in." I giggled, before returning my attention to Miriam, all to aware of what he could see.

He adjusted his collar, pulling at his coat. Once he'd wrested it off, he grabbed his glass and sat back, with the air of a connoisseur; he wasn't disappointed. Soon, our attentions became more detailed, focusing on certain areas of our anatomy that a true Lady would blush to mention. With a cheeky wiggle of my rear I set to work. Miriam played her part expertly; we had seduced him wholly.

After a similar performance by her, we focused on some of the items she'd bought. We used them with inexperience, but that made it more exciting;  (It was certainly a learning experience!)along with several other arousing performances... one involving a paddle and my being bent facing him, which he enjoyed immensely.

I won't go into specifics from that point, but let's just say he ended up a happy stallion; then the sleeping pills we'd dosed him with took effect. We soon dislodged ourselves from him and removed the key to his cedar-wood chest from his coat pocket.

We opened it liked treasure hunters, it was filled with a multitude of sacks, each one chinking heavily. We removed several;It was only fair he gave something back after all.

We muffled our squeals of delight. Not that stealth mattered, since he was sleeping deeply at this stage.

Then came our flight. We locked the chest and put the key back, we replaced the sacks with similar ones, but filled with junk. Emptied his glass, and packed away our instruments, as well as clearing up any evidence of our lovemaking, minus that on the bed. We didn't expect it to fool him at all, but the image of him waking up to an empty bed covered in juices, made us laugh; a very wet dream indeed.

With that done, and our personal effects craftily placed in bundles behind the tent, we made good our escape. Darting expertly from place to place. We stayed far away from the sleeping tents as we didn't want to alarm anypony; since our faces were concealed.

Soon enough we were free. The lights of the nearby town beckoning us, like moths to flame. Once we were certain we were safe, we whooped and cheered. We embraced and ran a considerable distance.

The irony of our plan, considering what we were escaping from, didn't escape me. But, as I said, needs must. Any other way would likely have ended with our arrest, or continued abuse.

Neither of us cared: we ran for joy, we ran for life, we ran for freedom.