Schmerz

Dusk Shine had been a kind and thorough father, awakened Twilight Velvet to both pleasure and pain she'd never forgotten and, with time, drawn her into the fetishism she'd missed since his passing.

Velvet reminisced about her past while Twilight Sparkle warned, shouted, growled, flailed. Unrelenting, the mother steadily encroached upon her daughter's personal space until she was close enough to push the girl off balance, firmly yet carefully, calculatedly, and Twilight Sparkle fell easily from her seat to the floor.

Much of what she had done with her father when she was very little had made her uncomfortable at the time, but Velvet had been an obedient child. Well—she corrected herself, reminiscing—of course, she hadn't always been obedient. She'd been a bit of a brat before it all started, actually. Was she ever as bad as Twilight Sparkle, though? She honestly couldn't judge, but it made sense, she thought, probably served her right, now, after being a pain as a girl herself.

The moment Velvet lowered herself to the floor within range of her outraged daughter, leaning toward the girl, Twilight Sparkle struck her squarely in the nose. Velvet flinched, and her eyes and nose leaked. The sensation stirred up old memories. I deserve it this time too, she thought. The last time she'd been struck there with such genuine passion felt like it had been so long ago. Pleasant tingling in her spine caused her to shudder momentarily. It just wasn't the same with Nightlight, never spontaneous, always hesitant even though she requested it.

Velvet laughed in spite of the pain, at how funny it was that she'd cried and suffered so long as a good young mother, denying herself this, just to wind up here in the end anyway. She'd thought she could run from eternity, from the torment that awaited her. In reality, she'd only been delaying the inevitable. Now, she soared freely toward her fate, unfettered by any delusion that she could be a “good” person. It was the most exhilarating feeling she thought possible, at least for a soul like hers.

Velvet smiled, teary-eyed at the four-year-old who stopped, uncertain about the laughter and her mother's generally unexpected reaction. This wasn't the game she was used to playing. Was the woman trying to roughhouse with her—to distract her from her playtime to instead do something boring or annoying? Velvet leaned forward again on one hand to support herself while, with the other hand, she reached for little Twiley, too fast to give the girl time to escape as she made the attempt.

Foolishly, the woman left herself open for a second blow, and, turning about, Twilight Sparkle shoved a small palm into her face roughly. Velvet shut her eyes reflexively, yet, despite the mild discomfort, her smile remained. The hand she laid on her daughter's waist dragged her easily to the ground toward her, and the parent's strong, gentle arms wrapped around her snugly. Finally, Velvet rolled so that the little girl lay on top of her, too close to strike again easily.

Undaunted, Twilight Sparkle grabbed fistfuls of hair and yanked as hard as four-year-old arms and fingers would allow. A number of light purple strands broke, and the woman couldn't help but wince and softly exclaim her pain for a couple of seconds until the worst of it passed. It was a small victory for the daughter, but not enough to help her get away.

Still trapped, Twilight Sparkle didn't relent, kicking Velvet's pelvis, kneeing and squirming against her torso, pulling more hair, and, with every third or fourth inhalation, belting out her most ear-piercing, consecutive shrieks. Twiley spared no effort to make the woman let go, to cause her pain, to win her stupid game. Meanwhile, Twilight Velvet received it all for payment.

It would be too easy to use magic now to still the little child as she had in past, dire situations. Though she had never liked to use it on her daughter, Twilight Velvet excelled at techniques of bodily manipulation. What she liked to do to her daughter had changed suddenly and drastically in the last five minutes, but that didn't matter now.

Today, Twilight Velvet would do all she could to avoid magic until her son and husband returned home. From the moment she'd decided how to handle their desperate situation, Twilight Velvet knew, only the most primeval methods ought to be used to handle such an unsolvable conflict. Magic was far too refined a device, even if its implementation was simple for something so base. For the task at hand, magic simply wasn't an option, no matter how useful it might be.

Every abuse the girl could throw at her, for once, the mother let fall rather than shield herself or seek to control the child, except to prevent her escape. In light of her immediate plans, Velvet finally made peace with all of Twilight Sparkle's tempestuous fits, with every shriek, scratch, and projectile she'd hurled against her. One more tantrum right now, however painful, would be less than Velvet knew she deserved as punishment after what would come next.

Five long minutes passed, and, though sure that her hearing was damaged and aching from a well placed knee to one ovary, Twilight Velvet still held the child. Gradually, the little girl's energetic flailing and hair-pulling ceased, and her screams became wailing tears of frustration, noisy, but lower and more tolerable.

A few minutes more, and the child could no longer continue her fit but for token sobbing—more like frustrated moaning. As the mother ran one hand up through the little girl's limpid locks to comfort her, Twilight Sparkle grunted discontentedly. “No! Noooo!” The little girl wouldn't give up so easily.

The screaming, kicking, and hair-pulling recommenced. This time, realizing she'd only get tired again, the disgruntled girl threatened, “I'll bite you! Let me go! I'll bite!” It wasn't something that little Twilight had ever tried, but extreme situations called for extreme tactics.

Twilight Velvet still didn't yield, barely even moved, but she tensed as she felt the girl push and adjust her face to press her mouth into her upper chest. The woman trembled a little in fearful anticipation as her daughter caught only her blouse in her teeth on her first attempt. It wasn't something she wanted. Unlike the other parts of her little Sparkle's tantrum, she realized it would hurt a lot, but, if the little girl could manage it, she would allow the biting this once. It would soon be justified, after all.

She expected, when her Twiley succeeded, that—

Searing pain shot through Twilight Velvet's upper breast as her daughter's incisors found purchase through her top, and the woman gasped. Her arms lost their strength momentarily, enough to allow the child to break free briefly. Before the girl made it out of her mother's grasp, she drew her in again, however.

No matter. Twilight Sparkle was prepared for a second attempt. Near the same spot, the small girl bit down harder than before, causing her mother to cry out in pain. This time, however, the woman kept her hold, flexing into the throbbing sting. Little Twilight didn't relinquish her hold either, but kept her teeth locked in place, clamping with all the strength her small jaws possessed while the vulnerable mother shook in agony.

It took a moment through her tense, angry panting and sobbing before Twilight Sparkle realized something odd; her small tongue detected something warm and metallic. As the taste spread and grew stronger, the girl's confusion broke through her concentrated wrath against her mother, her jaw released its hold, and, moments later, Twilight Velvet loosened her embrace enough to allow the girl to draw back a little. There, where she had bitten her mother, little Sparkle was startled to find blood.

She gasped, shocked, and, looking up, young Twilight saw the woman called Mom wet-faced with tears, eyes shut tightly in continued agony while her breast burned and throbbed. Fear suddenly replaced shock on the little girl's face, her eyes watered anew, and she looked back down at the wound she'd inflicted with her own teeth. The fabric of her mother's blouse was deformed, small holes left by her her baby canines and matching punctures in Velvet's skin beneath slowly soaked the white material in blood.

Her escape plans forgotten, little Twilight's breathing quickened, she looked again at the face of her mother, her eyes now open, only slits due to her pain. An expression of wide-eyed, teary, panic unlike Twilight Velvet had seen in years fixed itself across the small girl's face. Crimson wetly stained the child's bottom lip as it trembled. “I—” Twilight Sparkle's voice shook and her breathing hitched “—'m s—oorry.” Twilight Sparkle broke down, heaving silently for a moment without breath, then bawling, scared, and, for the first time in a long time, with respect to her mother, she was wholeheartedly ashamed of what she'd done.

Still trembling subtly, Twilight Velvet raised her right hand again to the back of the little girl's head to lay her daughter's cheek against her opposite, uninjured breast, and, while Twilight Sparkle clung to her and wailed penitently, Velvet gently stroked the girl's hair.

Half a minute later, the girl's sobs became more subdued, and Twilight Velvet hushed her softly until her sobbing became ragged breath, then, finally, steady, even breathing, punctuated only by a few small sniffles.

Twilight Velvet sighed, relieved and happy. All it took to bond, it seemed, was some pain and a little bleeding. It wouldn't stop what was coming, of course. Nothing could stop it now that she'd begun to prepare for that final, desperate leap.

Wordlessly, ignoring the pain of her injury, Twilight Velvet's left hand rubbed the girl's back up and down—up a little, then down a bit lower, up again, and down lower still. At the small of little Twilight's back, at the top of her small, navy skirt, she stopped a moment, and then, tenderly, her hand moved down to cup the little girl's small bottom.

After so much resistance, Twilight Sparkle relaxed; she conceded, or at least began to recognize, she was unconditionally loved. ‘Til then, she never knew just how much she had needed that feeling. With her mother's caress and soft squeeze on her tiny tush, Twilight Sparkle finally realized that, more than winning, or control, or entertainment, all she really needed—needed desperately—was to be held and loved, no matter what.