“Drip”
by Rawtooth
Drip drip drip
The sound of dripping bothered Rarity. It had never even needed to be loud to set her nerves on edge. The drip of the leaky faucet in the upstairs bathroom, the drip of spilt milk from an apologetic sister, the drip of something sticky and unclean on her fine fabrics. They all left her grinding her teeth in frustration, each droplet was an unmistakable sign she had lost control of her environment in some manner. Control was essential for perfection, and perfection essential for her sanity.
Drip drip drip
At times, Rarity wondered if the universe had a cruel sense of humor. Her closest friends were loud, obnoxious, unclean… and they dripped constantly. Pinkie Pie dripped sugar and chocolate and flour everywhere, making such a vulgar mess of even the simplest of tasks. Twilight Sparkle dripped ink and chemicals during her vain attempts to categorize the world around her. Fluttershy dripped the stink of animals, their furry musk saturating every inch of her beautiful coat. Rainbow Dash dripped the bluntness of her egotistical posturing, ruining the careful social foreplay that Rarity enjoyed. And Applejack… Applejack was quite simply the worst!
The horrid stench of sweat from a hard day’s work, the pedestrian smell of apples, and underneath it all the sickening hint of dirt - they all poured from the earth pony’s body, an ever present disaster against good taste. They clashed against everything she stood for, a declaration of war against the ideals of cleanliness and fashion. This was how Rarity knew that the universe loved a sadistic joke. Only in an entirely unjust world would she fall in love with somepony so uncouth.
Drip drip drip
Her condition was more proof of that very injustice. She was a mare of beauty, a creature of sophistication. To be forced to live within the deplorable little village known as Ponyville was appalling, a travesty of the highest order! Delightedly, her Carousel Boutique afforded some modicum of sanity against the sea of plebes she found herself drowning in. While the upper floors were subject to intrusions from the outside world, the basement was a bastion of pristine cleanliness. Rarity had found herself spending ever-increasing amounts of time secluded away, diligently working on her little secret. Cleaning supplies and dirty mops were for small fillies to concern themselves with, not artists such as herself. The vulgar acts she had found herself forced to perpetuate just to survive made her shudder in disgust even then.
Thankfully, she had always been a clever filly. Being the owner of her own clothing establishment had invested a strong sense of fiscal responsibility within Rarity, a desire to solve problems economically. The scraps from one customer’s order could easily become the perfect finishing touches on another. So when presented with her two dilemmas, she had carefully devised a solution to answer both in one fell swoop. It wasn’t the simplest of plans, but it was elegant and that elegance was of greater import to Rarity than simplicity.
Drip drip drip
She worked quickly, with the skill and proficiency of a career seamstress. The needle moved fluidly under her control, the piece of metal acting as an extension of her body. Up and over, around and down it went and went, tugging the strong silk thread along behind it. At the start, her plan had been a bit difficult; Rarity would modestly admit that. She just wasn’t used to working with such thick material. The first few attempts resulted in near-disaster, her usual set of sewing needles getting bent and tangled amongst the coarse hair while the thin cotton thread kept causing broken seams. The ensuing dreadful messes had tested the limits of both her will and her stomach.
But a true artist never gave up! Rarity refused to let such paltry setbacks ruin her beautiful designs, and so she had pushed on past the previous specters of failure. She had ordered an extra strong steel needle, more suited for a leatherworker’s trade, while her usual thread was replaced by shining dove-white silk. Both served her well. There had been no further teeth-clenching disasters or stomach churning messes. In hindsight, Rarity wondered why she hadn’t ordered the silk earlier. It just looked so much nicer against the orange.
Drip drip dr-
A final tying of a knot, a snip of silvery scissors, and Rarity was finished. She leaned in close, her white muzzle nearly brushing against the thread as she meticulously inspected her work. Re-counting the stitches, she gingerly dabbed at the silken thread with a washcloth, carefully cleaning it to a shining white from the messy drips that stained it. It just wouldn’t do to have an unfortunate leak after the hours of hard work, after all. Finally, her sense of workmanship was satiated and she nodded her head in satisfaction.
The suture was, just like all of her work, perfect.
Leaning back from the bed, Rarity slowly exhaled, tension flowing from her body alongside her breath. It always astounded her how much stress she felt each time she stitched up the cuts, the worries of a clumsy slip of the knife, a nick to a vital artery, or even a poor cleaning leading to a deadly infection were never far from her head. Countless hours of trial and error had lead her to this point, and she knew it was far from an ideal state. Rarity sighed as her gentle hooves kneaded her neck, wincing in pain each time another knot of tension fell under their careful motions.
It wasn’t like she could very well go to the library and research her condition. Even if she had been able to, she feared that the books would only be horribly mistaken. Rarity had no fangs, no powers over creatures of the night, and neither burned at the sun’s touch or possessed mystic abilities beyond the reckoning of ponykind. She was merely cursed with an insatiable hunger that had only grown stronger as she aged. At one time, Rarity had thought her bestial desires were under her control, that she had conquered her condition through sheer force of will. Years passed, and her life gradually grew pleasant again. Unfortunately, she was proven wrong during a most delicate time in her life. After all, who would have expected one of the royal sisters to attend Nightmare Night within Ponyville? Thankfully she was a creature of routine, of habit; her natural inclinations served her well, to keep her safe. After that incident, Rarity realized she would never truly possess control fighting the ghastly urges she possessed. So instead of rejecting them, she embraced them, and in doing so found the control she desired, and more of it than she had ever dreamt of. Her techniques developed slowly over the years, the self-taught fumblings of an amateur, but she was fed and that was what ultimately mattered. Soon, though, she felt her muscles relaxing under her own ministrations. As the pain left, Rarity found herself quite thirsty from the hours of work.
She carefully pushed aside the silvery tray containing her sewing implements, cautious to avoid making unnecessary noise or to jostle the pony fast asleep on the bed. It would have just been the height of rude manners to awaken Applejack, after all! Then, hooves making nary a sound, Rarity dipped her head low to inspect the fruits of her labor. The clear glass bowl was nearly full, the gorgeous red liquid lapping at the edges. It had been risky taking so much from poor Applejack, but Rarity knew the cowpony had it in her. And it was only right that the earth pony gave back a little of what was due to her friend. The unicorn could scarcely contain herself now, looking at the bowl and running her tongue along her lips in appreciative desire. She found herself panting just at the thought of drinking deep of that seductive red. Before she knew it, the bowl was floating in front of her muzzle, letting her inhale the delicious aroma wafting from the warm surface.
It really was the most beautiful thing Rarity had ever seen, even more beautiful than the mare she loved. It took all of her effort to tear her eyes away from the siren call of the red, but Rarity glanced over at the bed at the thought. Applejack was fast asleep, her chest rising and falling with the rhythmic breath of drug-induced sleep, her eyelids fluttering with whatever dreams the drugged dreamt. A leather mouth muzzle kept the earth pony from being able to do little more than mumble, while a nasal strip adorned her nose. The wheezing pitch of Applejack’s breath tested her nerves, but Rarity vastly preferred it to the uncouth snoring of the early weeks. And the ungodly screaming, heaven forbid she endure that awful racket again.
The smell was gone, though. A frown crossed the unicorn’s face at the thought. It had taken weeks of scrubbing every inch of the earth pony’s body, followed by an intense daily regime of lotion and aloes, but she had done it. Now the smell was gone, and to her own surprise Rarity found herself oddly missing it. Still, the strong limbs and limber flanks Rarity had always admired from afar remained, now covered in her work - a silken tapestry of careful incisions decorating her love’s body.
And Applejack was very lovely. Rarity found her hunger subsiding (just a touch as it never truly left her), as she admired the earth pony’s form. She had always told the cowpony that she could have gone into modeling if she wished. Perhaps not with as much success as Fluttershy, bless that adorable little pegasus, but Applejack’s body was well suited for a more rough and tumble style. Rarity quickly found herself lost in the glorious realm of possibilities, such as an au natural photo shoot at Sweet Apple Acres, when her thought processes were interrupted by a grunt.
Applejack was awake, emerald eyes straining to focus past groggy lids. Rarity set the bowl down on a night stand, before turning to smile beatifically at the earth pony.
“Awake, are we, darling?”
Applejack didn’t respond, her eyes rolling as she struggled against the drugs coursing through her system. Rarity put her forelegs on the bed, moving carefully to not disturb the earth pony’s bandaged legs. Then, settling down on the comfortable downy mattress, Rarity rested her head on her forehooves to gaze with affection at Applejack.
“I really must thank you, dear Applejack. You have given me sooo much to drink these past few months. Why, I never thought one pony had so much to give! And I do know something about generosity, after all.”
Rarity gave a delighted, twittering laugh at her own joke before continuing.
“But then again, you are… how did you put it, my love? Oh yes, ‘the loyalest of friends, and most dependable of ponies’. And you are, my dear Applejack! You are the most dependable and most loyal of all ponies. It is part of why I have always loved you.”
The earth pony’s eyes were open now, awake and aware as much as she could be considering the condition Rarity had left her. Seeing her love stir fitfully against the bonds which tied her to the wrought-iron bed frame was a shock to her senses. It tore away the self-deluding illusion which she had fallen for, and Rarity found reality a poor substitute for her fantasies. The earth pony’s frame was gaunt from lack of exercise and diet. The once marvelous orange coat was now faded and dull, while the luscious blonde hair had lost its sunny sheen. Her face turned from smile to frown at the thought, and it only deepened as Applejack began grunting as much as the mare could.
“Oh please be quiet. Nopony can hear you. They gave up looking a long time ago. It wasn’t easy copying your sloppy mouthwriting, I mean, honestly, it’s like you weren’t paying any attention at all during cursive lessons, but in the end I managed.”
She paused, letting the words’ import sink in, before continuing.
“They were so heartbroken, you know, particularly little Applebloom. They could just not believe that their dear, dependable Applejack would take her own life. So tragic, so sad. I was there, of course, a gracious shoulder to lean upon if they ever needed my services.”
Applejack had grown quiet at her words, unshed tears glistening at the corners of those beautiful eyes.
“It really was a most elegant funeral, I must have you know. Closed casket, naturally, as your body was never found. If only they knew the truth. Alas, they believed the note, and they believed my words, and now you are here with me and nopony knows any better.”
Applejack was silently crying now, and Rarity was left at a sudden loss as to what to do. It pained her to see Applejack weeping, truly it did. She did love the mare, even if it was a foolhardy, impossible love of the sort written in foal’s fairytales. Rarity continued talking, her voice gentler.
“I wish it didn’t have to be this way darling. I wish I hadn’t needed to steal you away from your family. I wish I didn’t have this condition. It really is all down-side, just to let you know. Oh, it isn’t as terrible as the stories make it out to be. I can still walk the sunlit streets without bursting into untidy piles of ash. I still eat as you do, and garlic has no effect beyond its rather unwholesome stench. The thirst, though…”
Rarity trailed off, her gaze unfocused as she remembered those dreadful first days. How she had eaten vermin, vermin, merely to survive! How she had nearly lost her mind to the terrible cravings that plagued her still. Noticing Applejack’s gaze upon her, she gave a theatric sigh before continuing.
“But I do what I must to persevere and provide my artistic vision to the world. Surely, you can appreciate that?”
Upon seeing the blank, horrified expression on Applejack’s face, Rarity leaned in close to the mare. Her urges nearly overtook her then and there, her control almost slipping at being so very near to her love. Rarity forced herself to maintain composure, instead venting her desires into words, her breath a husky whisper in the earth pony’s ear.
“Surely, you must understand why I am doing this to you? Why I am turning you into what I am? I… I need you Applejack, loath though I am to admit it. I love you, despite your horrid ways. You, and you alone, provide that crucial spark of inspiration for my designs."
Rarity paused, swallowing against the sudden dryness of her throat.
"So, don’t you see? I had to take you away from your family, I simply had to! My need is greater than theirs!”
Rarity found herself panting, her emotions running wild from venting her frustrations at Applejack. Slowly she drew back from the mare, even then shuddering from her cravings. Gradually, Rarity regained control of her faculties. Then, staring off into futures unseen, Rarity clasped her love’s hoof in an attempt to anchor herself from the horrid eternities she saw bearing down on her if she did not sway Applejack to her point of view. When she spoke again, Rarity’s voice was quiet and her tone rather matter of fact.
“An artist needs her muse. And you are my muse. Ergo, I need you.”
Rarity softly stroked Applejack’s hoof absentmindedly, tactfully ignoring the tremors, when a sudden stroke of genius hit her. Her tone adopted the cheerful politeness it had earlier in the conversation, and she found she could not keep a grin from her face.
“Perhaps you are thirsty, my dear? You gave me so much to drink, and I really don’t think I can finish it. A lady must watch her figure, after all.”
Applejack nodded fitfully, and Rarity’s heart swelled with joy. It had only taken weeks of constantly needling her- both verbally and physically, she thought with a laugh, of slowly depriving the earth pony of food and water, but now she would finally submit to Rarity’s sweet gift. Now, she would have somepony else to suffer through the horrid existence of her condition. To ease that terrible burden of knowing just how truly alone she was.
“Now, I’m going to remove the muzzle Applejack; please be a good filly, and stay quiet.”
Rarity suited words to actions, Applejack’s eyes never leaving her own during the process. Finally, the ugly thing was off, and Rarity could scarcely contain herself. She reached up with a trembling hoof to rub along Applejack’s muzzle. The earth pony didn’t move, only closing her eyes and shuddering once at the contact. Feeling the warmth of her love’s body reminded Rarity that she really was quite dreadfully thirsty. Breaking her touch off, the unicorn turned and daintily lifted the glass bowl to her eager lips.
The drink was the ambrosia of the alicorns to her. It tasted full and rich, with just a tangy hint of iron that played against her tongue. Careful not to swallow, even as her nerves screamed to give into the sweet red, she turned to Applejack. The earth pony was shaking dreadfully now, but she obediently opened her mouth before closing her eyes, although whether in horror or desire, Rarity could not say. Leaning in, she kissed Applejack with all of her passionate hunger as the red gushed from her mouth. It spilled down their chests to stain the sheets below, but Rarity didn’t care. She gave in to her instincts, moaning even as Applejack’s muffled screams filled her ears.
The kiss was sweet, but the blood was even sweeter.
