Hypnotic Holiday

‘One, coming to consciousness, opening your eyes.

‘Two, growing aware of the world around you.

‘Three, wide awake. How’s my good girl feeling,’ Rarity asks.

‘Mmmmm.’ Twilight always loves waking from trance. The sensation of simultaneous relaxation and energy was the best, albeit only, high she had ever experienced. ‘Amazing, as always.’

Rarity grins. ‘Lovely to hear, Twi.’

‘Woof.’ Twilight’s hooves leap to her mouth, red embarrassment blooming on her cheeks.

‘There’s no need to be ashamed,’ Rarity coos as she leaves her lounge to approach Twilight. ‘You’re just obeying my instructions like a good puppy. Aren’t you, Twi?’

‘Woof.’ Twilight cannot restrain a moan. Before she could even process Rarity’s words her body leapt to obey her hidden programming. She moans again, realising just how powerless she is. ‘Oh, yes.’

‘Go on, puppy, hop down.’ Twilight crawls from her lounge to the ground in front of Rarity before tucking her hooves under herself to sit before her. It just feels right to be below her Mistress. ‘Very good. How do you feel knowing I can make you bark like a little puppy? Speak.’

Twilight wants to say, ‘So good. I feel so helpless, like you could make me do anything,’ letting the growing moistness of her nether regions remain implicit. Instead she says, ‘Bark ruff rrrar.’ Confusion floods her mind overflowing onto her face, a look that Rarity can’t help but giggle at. With her most focused attempts at articulation, Twilight continues, ‘Wooooof, raruf, arrrf.’ No use, as if all the words that once came so easily to her tongue now exist safely imprisoned deep in her mind. She cannot contain a canine whimper.

‘How silly of me,’ Rarity says, stroking Twilight’s mane. ‘Did I say “like a little puppy”? No, you are a puppy. And a good puppy knows tricks. Like how to beg.’

Faster than thought, Twilight finds herself sat on her haunches, forehooves tucked up against her chest, her tongue lolling out as she lightly pants. ‘Good puppy. You love being an obedient puppy, don’t you, Twi?’

‘Woof.’

‘Freeze.’

Twilight’s body tenses. No, not tenses, just ceases movement. Nothing stops her moving, but nothing compels her to either.

‘Good girl.’ Rarity runs a hoof down Twilight’s exposed midsection, circling her navel. The hoof lowers to brush against her- ‘Ah, but it’s much too early for that.’ Twilight would whimper were her vocal chords not paralysed. ‘Unfreeze and roll onto your back.’ Dropping herself to all fours, she lowers her barrel to the ground before tipping herself onto her back. Laying there, partially exposed, she squirms, moving her hooves like a puppy, yipping a little to please her Mistress.

Rarity wastes no time assaulting her new puppy with tickles, running her hooves up and down Twilight, ruffling her fur. Twilight can feel her laughs transforming in her throat into canine grunts.

This lasted for a few minutes, though for Twilight it felt an exhausting eternity, until Rarity says, ‘You’ve been very, very good. So obedient, just like a pet should be. But I don’t think we’ve truly let the puppy play.’

A presence grew in Twilight’s body, like a furry phantom pouring from her centre into her limbs. She could see through her eyes, hear through her ears and smell through her nose, but as she leaps to her hooves, wagging her tail with her rump shaking in the air, she knows this body is no longer her own. ‘Woof woof.’ Her dinner plate eyes glue to Rarity as she bounds over to her, panting like puppy who's meeting her Mistress for the first time in days.

‘Aww, does puppy love her Mistress?’

Twilight can practically feel the puppy presence screaming, ‘Yes!’ Especially so when it sticks her tongue out to start licking its beloved Mistress. Her tongue runs to and fro over Rarity’s neck, her nose making frantic nuzzles and sniffs. Twilight flushes red. Sure she’d licked Rarity before, but never in a display of innocent, puppy affection like this. The heat on her face nearly matches the dripping warmth of her marehood. Knowing that at Rarity’s word her body would act so against her wishes makes her so horny. No, not against her wishes, without her meaning to. While awake she would never think, much less endeavour, to abandon all decorum and start lapping at Rarity’s nape.

‘Oh, oh, that’s fine and lovely,’ says Rarity softly pushing her away. ‘But I think it’s puppy sleep time.’

Receding from Twilight’s limbs the puppy presence crawls deep into Twilight’s mind, curling up to sleep. ‘That was amazing.’ Twilight almost put her hoof to her mouth until she realises how silly that would be. The shock of once again speaking like a regular pony shocks her nearly as much as the barks were initially.

‘Yes, it was,’ Rarity says, smoothing her coat in all the saliva-matted areas. ‘But before I next coax your puppy out, I think I’ll place some restraints on it.’

Twilight weakly laughs. ‘Sorry about that.’

‘Don’t be. In fact, that reminds me.’ Rarity’s horn glows as she retrieves an object from under her bed which she placed there while Twilight was under. In front of Twilight’s widening eyes dangles a frilly Prench Maid’s uniform. Even on a coat hanger Twilight can tell it would never pass in professional circumstances. As fetish wear went it had many fans, so many that Rarity found it prudent to stock two or three extra in case any came calling. ‘Put it on.’

Twilight obeys, both by her own choice and the hypnotic force compelling her. She finds it easier than expected to put on, but then, she remembers, unlike real ones these were designed specifically for user enjoyment. Despite its snugness, she found adequate room for her wings under it. As she pulls the set’s panties up her legs she can tell, as much from the cold air tickling against her nethers as from quick backward glances she makes, that the absurdly short dress will leave her silkily clad derrière very much on display.

‘Follow me.’

‘Yes, Mistress.’ Twilight shivers. She hadn’t even meant to say ‘Mistress.’ As she walks she relishes each unwilling step, feeling the arousal of obedience compounding with the soft rubbing of her panties against her. She notices that without intending to she sways her plot with every step. They stop at the door to the laundry room.

‘You did say your servitude didn’t have to remain in the bedroom, so fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how serious you were, I shall be taking advantage of your promise.’ Rarity slowly circles Twilight, eyeing her new servant. She gives her small smack on her flank before saying, ‘You see, I’ve been so busy lately that my laundry's been piling up. While, yes, I’ve plenty of fresh clothes, that just leads to a bigger pile. Before you arrived I was going to do them myself, but now.’ She moves round to look Twilight in the eyes. ‘It may not be sexy but it’s what a maid is for. Would you be willing?’

‘Of course, Mistress.’

‘Really?’ Rarity eyes widened. Although she’d programmed Twilight to act like the perfect maid, she made sure, even in trance, to give her ultimate choice in the matter. Though she can smell Twilight’s response to the mere idea of obedience, Rarity can hardly comprehend that her marefriend might actually find enjoyment doing her chores for her. I would have to be pretty deep under before I would ruffle through Twilight’s dirty laundry, she pauses for a second, Well, pretty deep under to ruffle through and clean her dirty laundry.

‘Really, Mistress. Obedience is its own reward.’ Speaking the programmed phrase, Twilight can’t stop her eyelids fluttering as pleasure courses through her.

‘Really, really? You don’t want me to blank your mind or anything.’

‘Oh no, Mistress. I want to be fully aware of my obedience to you.’

‘Oh, well, okay then.’

They stand in silence for a few moments, Rarity sheepishly glancing at the unmoving Twilight.

‘Mistress,’ Twilight says, breaking the silence, ‘please order me.’

‘Oh right, yes.’ Rarity clears her throats, continuing in the voice she imagines all the matriarchs in her romance novels possess. ‘Put all in the red basket to wash, then hang them to dry. Those already hung up: iron, sort and fold. Finally, return them to their proper places in my wardrobe. But don’t dawdle, finished or no, I want you in the kitchen for dinner by six at the latest.’

‘Yes, Mistress,’ Twilight chirps, magically opening the door to the laundry room and entering.

As Twilight disappears into the dimly lit room, Rarity makes sure to take a gander at that lovely tick-tocking flank before the door closes under Twilight’s magic. Walking to the kitchen to continue with her Sunday novel she looks at the clock: Twelve-thirteen. On the prospect of hours without her marefriend, she feels bittersweet. The upside, of course, being that a few hours without Twilight meant a few hours sans doing the laundry herself, sans also the niggling thoughts that she shouldn’t put off doing the laundry any longer. Swings and roundabouts, really.

Twilight’s automaton movements bring her to the massive red basket, full of Rarity’s worn clothes. Had her body allowed her she might have plunged her face in, breathing in her marefriend’s scent.

Eww. Sniffing my marefriend’s dirty clothes, Twilight thinks, What am I, a crushing schoolfilly? She giggles as her body brings the basket to the washing machine, pouring them in. Well, as a schoolfilly I never had a crush, much less a special somepony. I can be forgiven some juvenile cravings now.

As she turns to the clothes already hanging up to dry she realises why Rarity had seemed so generous with time. Gently swaying under the breeze of electric fans (Rarity would never subject her darlings to open air) were two vast metal trees packed dense with sartorial foliage. The ironing alone will take four hours or so, Twilight thinks, deflating. But as her hooves obediently move to their purpose she perks up. But that’s not really my problem.

Pulling down Rarity’s clothing Twilight tries to disobey her order. Not in order to disobey, but to confirm it is impossible to disobey. Putting her half-serious all into resisting the movement of a hoof results in not even a twitch. Every futile attempt arouses a moan in Twilight. By the time she finishes ironing the second dress, fighting all the time, she could feel her panties soaked through.

Six hours, Twilight thinks, Six hours of doing Rarity’s laundry. My body obeying Rarity’s simple words. Me, unable to do anything about it.

She nearly came just thinking about it.

Five-fifty-nine, reads the kitchen clock, and Rarity had almost finished her novel. She begins a particularly steamy climax, before the sound of a sliding door jars her, and her hoof, from her reverie.

‘Oh, yes, six o’clock,’ Rarity says, composing herself in her lingering heat. ‘Very good, Twilight, following my orders to the letter.’

‘Thank you, Mistress,’ Twilight says, beaming.

‘And how much did you finish?’

‘All of it, Mistress.’

‘All of it!?’ Rarity long since forgotten the last time she ironed. She’d lost count of the articles of clothing she’d just left hanging there. She sometimes stood in awe before her rotary clotheslines, shocked they hadn’t collapsed yet.

‘The ironing took a while, but my body saw fit to use magic to fold and sort your clothes, Mistress.’

‘And,’ Rarity ventures, ‘was it as nice as you thought it would be?’

A dopey grin blossomed over Twilight’s face. ‘Oh, yes, Mistress. Mmmm. It was bliss.’

Rarity sniffs the air. ‘Yes. I should have deduced as much.’ Placing her book down on the kitchen table, she moves over to Twilight, taking her hoof and leading her to a cushion she left on the ground earlier. ‘Such an obedient maid deserves a special reward. Sit.’

The lingering influence of Twilight’s puppy brain pulls her flank to cushion.

Rarity’s magic enwraps a glass, filling it water, then putting to Twilight’s lips. ‘Drink,’ Rarity says. ‘Don’t worry this isn’t your reward. Just… preparation.’

Twilight gulps the whole glass down, happy to obey in anyway.

‘All right, spread your legs and lock them in place.’ Twilight’s legs fly open, revealing her now practically translucent panties. ‘My, my, somepony’s horny. That you’ve ruined that pair makes me feel far less guilty doing this.’ A miniature pair of scissors, coated in a green glow, hovers down to Twilight’s pelvic region. Without Twilight even feeling it the scissor snip the sides of her panties, letting the front flop down. Twilight gasps at the cold kitchen air on her newly exposed pussy. She feels, and hears the zip at the back of her uniform going down. Rarity prizes her fetish wear on how easy it is to discard.

The moment enough room is given Twilight’s fully erect wings burst out. She would blush from embarrassment if she weren’t already flushed from arousal.

Rarity moves round to Twilight’s back, brushing her feathers as she did so, grinning at the lovely moans it evokes. She leans down to whisper in Twilight’s ear, ‘Masturbate for me.’ Twilight’s hoof darts to her aching pussy, rubbing as if possessed, and, in a way, it is. ‘A hundred times hornier, a hundred times more sensitive.’ Pride fills Rarity as she pats herself on the back for her foresight in magically soundproofing the kitchen a few hours earlier. ‘But, you mustn’t cum until your Mistress gives permission.’ If Rarity didn’t know how much Twilight enjoyed this she might have felt sorry for the whimpering filly.

From an open drawer she takes a stopwatch, starts it, and then puts it to the side. ‘I think I’ll have last night’s risotto,’ she says, retrieving a pot from the fridge and turning the kettle on for her tea.

Although externally Twilight can muster no psychological signpost other than lust-mad panting and moaning, inside she thrills. It is one thing to masturbate at her marefriend’s command, but this is something else entirely. Rarity does not even watch her as she rubs herself like she’s never done before. She just goes on microwaving her pasta as if nothing unusual is happening. Twilight realises that she isn’t even Rarity’s obedient sex doll at this moment, but a profane statue in the middle of her kitchen, as unremarkable as all the other artworks she decorates her house with. That thought alone would make Twilight cum ten times had Rarity not forbidden her.

When the microwave chimes Rarity removes her risotto. She’d treat herself with an extra-large helping. The bubbling kettle flicks off and she pours the water into a cup holding a bag of Earl Grey. As calmly and slowly as if she didn’t have a furiously masturbating mare in her kitchen, she levitates her dinner to the table, and begins eating, occasionally blowing on her tea. She picks up her novel and continues.

Twilight quickly lost track of time. Even just after she started a lot of her higher brain functions faded away. So she doesn’t know long into her eternity of tantalising pleasure she is when Rarity says, ‘This is marvellously written book. It’s so vivid, like you’re right there.

‘You can feel her hooves firmly kneading your wings, massaging the joints and brushing the feathers.’ Twilight’s already achingly erect wings somehow spread further, eliciting a groan as phantom hooves roam her wings.

‘You can feel her mouth wrap around your horn, her tongue tracing the grooves.’ Twilight’s eyes drift so far back at the firm but gentle tongue on her horn.

The remaining flashes of coherent thought in Twilight’s mind pointlessly wonder why her hoof hasn’t fallen off by now, why it isn’t even tired.

‘You could almost cum just thinking about it, almost.’ That last whimper, like a kicked puppy, push Rarity to finish this little game.

‘Thirsty, dear?’ Well, she can’t be expected to let Twilight finish without a bit of teasing.

Twilight only responds with a weak nod and a squeak of affirmation.

‘Hungry, dear?’ A nod and a squeak.

‘Then I guess I should get this over with.’ She rolls her shoulders and stretches her limbs before taking her plate and cup to the sink. After lightly rinsing them she walks behind Twilight. ‘Do you want cum?’

Again, a nod and a squeak, but stronger, more urgent.

‘Hmm, I don’t think I believe you.’ She hears a whimper that could dissolve stone. ‘Tell you what, I’ll believe you if you say, “Please let me cum, Mistress.”’

‘Plea-a-ease… let… me-ee… cum, Misss-tress.’

‘No, no, dear, much louder than that.’

Twilight could feel tears dripping from her eyes, as sweat gushes on her forehead, her panting growing more desperate. ‘Pleeeeeaaaase let! Me! Cum! Mistress!’

Rarity lowers herself to Twilight’s ear to say, ‘Louder.’

‘PLEASE LET ME CUM, MISTRESS!’

‘Well if it means that much to you,’ Rarity says standing back. ‘Cum for Mistress.’

Rarity magically covers her ears just in time. She could feel Twilight’s scream just as well as she could see her shake and thrash as release is finally granted her.

Under Twilight’s skin, tundras and infernos rise and die, seeding blossoming explosions of pleasure. Her wings flap as if trying to escape an inescapable maw, and her horn pours light magic.

By the time she’s through the height of it she finds herself twitching and squirming in Rarity’s embrace. She gratefully sips from the glass tipped to her mouth, opening wider every now and then to accept a fork of risotto.

‘How do you feel?’ Rarity asks, stroking her mane.

‘Mmmmm.’

‘Can you speak?’ Rarity asks, at least half-serious.

‘I don’t… think I quite… came my brains out today.’ Twilight quickly regains her breath. She notices a stopwatch dangling in front of her. One hour, five minutes and thirty-six seconds.

‘Proud of yourself, Twi.’

‘Woof.’ She giggles. ‘I was just obeying your commands.’

‘Don’t say that. I can’t imagine how deep I would need to be to withstand that.’

‘Thank you, Rari…’ Her eyes droop.

‘Do you want to sleep?’

‘No, no,’ Twilight says, getting onto shaky legs, threatening to give out at any moment. ‘You need me gone before Sweetie Bell gets back, and I need to be in the library before Spike does.’

‘I guess you’re right.’ Rarity sniffs the air. ‘And I’ll probably need to restock on air freshener and disinfectant by the time I’m done with this room.’

‘Heh, sorry about that.’

‘Don’t be,’ Rarity gets up, moving over to Twilight to give her kiss. ‘You were just being a good, obedient girl for your Mistress.’ She giggles with Twilight. ‘But considering how much you were dripping before I even started, you’ll forgive if I check over the laundry you did.’

‘How dare you,’ Twilight says, holding her hoof to her chest. ‘You think I’d let a little arousal get in the way housework.’

Rarity kisses Twilight on the nose. ‘Only teasing, darling.’ She gives Twilight a light spank on her rump. ‘Off you trot. Or waddle, depending on what you’re up for.’

Waddle it is. Whatever strength the orgasm left Twilight puts to not falling asleep on the street. Teleportation would be ill-advised in her drowsy state of mind. Hopefully she’d get to her bed.

The next thing she remembers is waking to the door opening and slamming shut.

‘I’m home,’ Spike says.

Refreshed, Twilight trots down to her kitchen table, where Spike had already started preparing pancakes for breakfast.

‘How was the trip?’ Twilight asks, seating herself down.

‘It was great. The campsite was in the perfect place to see all of Ponyville. Applebloom told us all about Winona's new puppy.’ Spike sets down a plate of pancakes before her. ‘You should have been there, Twi.’

‘Woof.’ She slams her hooves over her mouth. I knew there was something I forgot to do.

‘What?’

‘Nothing.’

Spike eyes her, but let it drop. ‘Applebloom told me that they only let the puppy out of the barn to train it for work. That’s just cruel you know.’ He took a mouthful of syrupy pancakes, then continued without swallowing, ‘Every once in a while they really should let the puppy play.’

‘Oh, bu-‘ Twilight manages, before the puppy fills her limbs.