"What is wrong with this picture? I mean beside the fact that I'm like, totally the wrong species and I wouldn't let some asshole come within spitting distance of me with a freaking branding iron!" I think to myself, my annoying Valley Girl accent creeping into my own thoughts as I view the lap top screen, my new room mate has given over for me to use. It's some crappy $500 Dollar or B$t HP or the pony world equivalent of one.. what-ever. She isn't exactly rich like I am.

"Like absolutely nothing" I tell myself as I stare at the latest picture my pony counterpart has sent me to taunt me, after sending me to meet this friend of hers. How do I stay in contact with a filly half my age in another universe? The ways of tumblr are strange and mysterious indeed. Is it Sorcery.. Science.. a combination of the two, that connects ponies, anthros, and humans with their other-selves via a lap top? Take your pick. What the hell do I know? Coming from a human world I am very new to the concept of magic and I have only dabbled in friendship so to speak.

So I have no idea how I can communicate on the internet or Equine-net here at my anthro counterpart's mansion, with a pony me in yet another universe. I figure it's best to just not think on it too much, as my good friend Silver would say, and just enjoy the ride.

And speaking of Silver Spoon "Oh my, thats quite a nice look for you.. I mean her." the gray mare with a silver braided mane sets down my.. I mean our bowl of popcorn and a large bottle of Colta-Cola.. I hate horse puns by the way. I'd like to punch this so called Princess Celestia in the nose!

"I assume Ms. Chubby Diamond is still not letting you like, hear the end of it?" she adjusts her glasses. My Spoony has the same nervous tick, as she peers over my shoulder, licking her lips, trying to be discrete, but I know how much it turns her on. I have learned to watch for the signs. Tail wags lightly, ears twitch a bit, that same nervous smile my own Spoony has when she wants to fool around with me. I love that little chubby chaser.

"Why are you STILL wearing that ridiculous outfit?" I scold, looking her up and down, with a grimace of disaproval. She is wearing a French or Prench style Maid's uniform, as in from Maris Prance! I roll my eyes at the thought. God I hate horse puns!

"I'm sorry.. I guess it just slipped my mind." she smiles sheepishly and tugs nervously at the silver plated steel slave collar locked around her throat. Her mistress.. her real mistress holds the only keys. She has the strength graced to all Earth ponies to snap the collar off, but she won't.

Even though she hates her mistress, Ms. Diamond Tiara Riche The Third, still has the respect of her slave. She's not fooling me.. she can tell me she hates her Diamond all she wants, but I see it in those familiar lavender eyes behind those cerulean blue frames, when she looks into my baby blues.

She is waiting for her mistress's return.

The slave may hate her master, but that doesn't change the fact that she needs and desires her.

I am just a hairless, obese substitute for the slender, snobby, snarky mare that has absconded away with Ms. Spoon's heart.

I know hatred well. It never bothered me. They could hate me all they want, all I wanted was respect, and I got it. It's one thing I share in common with her skinny bean pole of a mistress.

"Geese Spoony.." I roll my eyes "You really are like, a totally pathetic excuse for a pony, you know that don't you?" she bows submissively to my insult and smiles "I know." she giggles as I sigh "She'll be here any minute. Go take that off and put on one of my T-shirts.. and nothing else!" I wink at her slyly, setting her cheeks a blush. The signs are more subtle due to the gray fur that covers her sad sweet face. She is so cute.

"Yes Mistress Diamond!" she replies all too eagerly.

My sly smirk is rapidly replaced by a grimace as I scowl at her vehemently.

I reach up and slap her across the face.. not hard, just enough to sting and drive home the abject subjugation she seeks out so diligently. She bends back up reflexively to avoid another blow. I try not to let the fear and shock in those big beautiful eyes, dissuade me from disciplining her further.

"What did you call me, peasant?!" I grit my teeth and make my displeasure well known.

She bows low, low enough I could very well hit her again, but I have made my point as she submits her apology "Please forgive me Princess Tiara.. once again I have displeased you."

I almost feel sorry for her. I want to pull her into a hug and say I didn't mean it. But she wants me to grab that braid, pull her down and slap her harder. Sometimes I think she makes these little slip ups just so I will take her down to the basement, string her up and beat her with a crop or the cat-o-nine-tails.

But her remorse seems genuine so I make a compromise. After all We have company coming, and Ms. Belle as of yet has displayed no inlicnation toward this kinky subculture, despite the fact that she dresses like some butch goth whore in a BDSM club.

"Thats 5 lashes later.." I sigh "But mind you, if your friend has chosen a good movie, I like, may have forgotten your punishment by the time it ends." yeah yeah of course I intended to pretend to forget, despite what lame-o movie Sweetie Belle pics out for us. I have no desire to suffer Spoony's addiction tonight. Despite what you might think, I derive little pleasure in hurting her. Infact it makes me sad for her, that she is so driven to seek abuse. If my fatherly counterpart ever does come home, and I am here to greet him, I swear to fuckin Jesus he is going to get my fat fist in his fat mouth, for what he did to this poor sweet creature!

"Yes Princess Tiara." she bows "Now beat it!" I point with my thumb over my shoulder toward the stairs, and the master bed room I have taken over from the stallion who made her like this.

She bows again and takes her leave, the little O-ring on the front of her collar rings against the band around her throat, reminding me that I am abusing one who has been abused as she turns to walk away. "Spoony!" I call to her as she turns around "Yes Tiara?" she is well trained and can sense my concern as she smiles, leaving off my honorary title

"You know I didn't…" I stop myself from saying that I meant none of what I said or did. Expressing emotion was never my strong point. I just bit my bottom lip nervously "That is I…"

"I know." she says it again, with that sweet equine smile on her muzzle, in answer to my unspoken apology. She bows again, gracefully, that same sad sweet smile on her lips as she turns and heads quickly to undress as bidden.

"Of course she knows." I remind myself with a sigh.

I don't love her, not like I do my own Sylvia Spoon, with her dark skin and a-dork-able tendency toward science fiction movies, comic books, table top and on-line Role Play Games. But I do care for Silver a great deal, just the same. I swear this one could be her clone, were it not for the fur-suit and the sensibility overwhelming fetish for restraint and pain. Ironically I can not bring myself to tell my own Spoony how much I truly care. I have missed her this past week.

I won't lie, I am enjoying having my own personal servant. My feet hurt allot due to my weight I guess. And Silver Spoon really knows how to rub them for a girl with no toes. I guess her master or mistress had her rub their feet allot. Either that or she just has naturally magic fingers.

At any rate, it isn't any sexual thrill I get from ordering her around, but having her waiting on me hand and foot, I must say is an intoxication I have rarely felt sense my brief stint as editor for my school paper, The Foolproof Press. I mean Sylvia might fetch me a soda or something if I ask nicely, but even my maids back home are not as obedient as Silver Serving Spoon, a name she has asked me to use now and then in scenes as she calls them.

Sure being a bully brought a sense of empowerment and made me forget my own insecurities but it's nothing compared to having Silver Spoon smile and quickly obey my every command. I'm only 18 but I ask her to get me a beer and she quickly heads to the fridge and opens me up a cold one from her former master's 6-packs of Bolt Light. I think it's a brew named after some Pegasus stallion or a griffon or maybe a dragon or.. something.. meh.. something that flies.

I ran out of cigarettes a few days ago. Since Silver is only 19 she can't get me more, easily. So I started smoking on her former master's pipe, that belonging to my father's bastard counterpart. The Pipe itself, It's taking some getting used to. I try to take it outside because I know Silver doesn't like the smell. I think it is more then just the stench, but the bad memories the smell conjures, that repulses her. If you knew what he did to her when she was only 15 you would understand my hatred for my alternate universe, stallion father.

All this interdemensional crap and emotional baggage is giving me a headache!

I want to raid my horse's ass daddy's liquor cabinet to dull the pain. Instead I reach for the soda bottle and push the coffee table away. There is a reason I am sitting in the floor. It's to be closer to Spoony. No it's not because she isn't ALLOWED on the furniture. But I'll get to that soon enough. I set the bottle and the popcorn on the floor, and it hits me, just as I begin to unscrew the cap "Silver Spoon, you nerd.. you forgot the glasses and ice.. and the butter?!" that last one would earn her a decent punishment. Justly deserved, I might add, for daring to bring me popcorn without fucking butter and salt!

I groaned as I waited for Spoony to return. She came down in my favorite baggy pink shirt. It was so big on her it hung down over her thighs like a miniskirt. I caught a glimpse of her bringing some fabric up to smell my scent. I almost faltered in that moment but she needed to be disciplined for her intolerable sacrilege.

I will spare you the details of my outburst and her quick obedience to fetch the items she has neglected. Needless to say, I let her know in no uncertain terms, she would be denied the privilege of her sleep cage in the master bed room and spend tonight chained up in the dungeon after being severely punished for slighting me. She took it as she normally does, beaming, begging forgiveness and bowing to me profusely.

As I watched her go, I came to my senses "Man I really am a bitch!" but by that time it was too late. I couldn't back off now or she might loose respect for me. And as much as I like respect it isn't my ego that keeps me playing this role. It's for her. It's all for her. It has been since I got here. It is why I accepted her invitation in the first place.

You think it's easy playing a narcistic bitch who is never satisfied?

You think it comes natural?

No wait.. like, don't answer that!

Author's Note

header art "Return of the latex bondage suit" by Chubby Diamond

It's a paradoxical situation only instead of dealing with alt selves from another time we are dealing with alt Diamond Tiaras and their Spoons.

Universe1: Diamond Tiara Riche The Third (anthro) has abandoned her pet slave; Silver "Serving" Spoon, and gone to college out of state.

Universe2: Diamond Dazzle Tiara (human, possible EQG,) has somehow visited Serving Spoon in universe 1 and replaces her original mistress.

Universe3: Chubby Diamond Tiara (Pony) was the one who orchestrated this meeting between Universe1 Silver and Universe 2 Diamond. She is not present for it but she sends pics of herself in bondage to taunt her human self and you will see why in following chapters.