A Rock in a Soft Place

by Captain_Hairball

Rating: mature
Tags: Death, Narcotics, Other, Romance, Fetish, Rarity, Maud Pie, Sex, Profanity, Violence, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 40711

Frazzle Rock, frumpy geologist, meets Rarity, fussy fashionista. Wet and messy BDSM afternoon delight leads to unexpected romance, and a crack ship sets sail.

Frazzle Rock has always let other ponies push her around, but a sleazy afternoon encounter with one of the most beautiful ponies in Equestria makes her change her mind about herself. Can her new-found self esteem survive Rarity's weirdo friends and obnoxious fashion world contacts? Does Rarity really love her or is she just a Pygmalion project?

A filthy, episodic romantic sex farce. Content includes but is not limited to: extremely wet and messy lesbian horse BDSM.

Continuity notes: This is a stand alone story, but it is related to and set after Rarity and the Silk Scarf and The Thing in the Sub-Sub-Sub-Basement. Also in the same continuity as Hot Harvest and Life after the Blitz, but you definitely don't have to have read those to enjoy this one.

Edited by Cerulean Starlight.

[NOTE: 6/3/2016 Original chapter 11 and last two lines of chapter 10 removed pending future revisions.]

Published 2016-02-05 22:50:01 UTC
Last updated 2016-05-06 15:17:42 UTC

Started Out This Morning Feeling So Polite

I stared longingly at the plate of tiny cucumber sandwiches in the middle of the table. My stomach grumbled. I had eaten three sandwiches. The Princess had had two. It would be a serious breach of protocol to go for another one. I folded my hooves together over my handouts and pressed them together. Self-control, Frazzle.

“…but of course Igneous Hardscrabble’s theories on continental drift are completely outdated at this point. We now know so much more about subduction zones and their effect on…”

I gritted my teeth. I had done my dissertation on Igneous Hardscrabble’s work, which is not outdated and has depths we are still coming to understand, thank you very much Princess Dunning–Kruger.

“Um, I don’t mean to interrupt, your Highneth, but I am a little pressed for time. If I could give my prethentathion?”

Twilight blinked. “Oh. Of course. Certainly. Please. I’m sorry. I just got a little carried away.”

I opened the thick binder in from of me. “The Canterlot Geological Thurvey believes that there are massive untapped gem reserves beneath the Everfree Foretht. While we would like to protect the area from comerthial exploitation, we also believe that there are magical gem rethonanthes dating back to…”

“Oh, no! Oh, I’m sorry, we can’t allow that.”

I froze, mouth half open, hoof on my first handout.

The Princess drew herself up, and puffed out her chest. “I’m as curious about magical gem resonances as you are, but the Everfree forest is home to a variety of rare and endangered creatures. We can’t allow any exploitation of the area.” Rare creatures like manticores and timber wolves? Those were monsters. The less of them there were the better. Anyway, hadn’t I just said that we wanted to avoid commercial exploitation of the area? I’d used those exact words!

I glimpsed a yellow and pink pony peeking in through the door. She vanished in a puff of feathers the second she caught me looking. That one had gotten to her first. It was the only explanation. “But…”

“I’m afraid I can’t be flexible about this. As the pony population increases, there are fewer and fewer unspoiled natural regions like the Everfree in Equestria. They must be preserved, at all costs.”

I fumbled through my folder, looking for the environmental impact assessment. “But if you’ll jutht look at these figureth, you’ll thee that…”

“Now, if I could continue what I was saying about tectonic subduction?”

I sighed, and closed my folder. “Yeth, your Highneth.”

It was a relief when my appointment with Rarity came around, and I was able to excuse myself. I had twenty minutes to make it to the Carousel Boutique. Enough time to stop at the corner store for a few candy bars. And some fresh pads.

Because of course, I’d gone into heat on the train over from Canterlot. It never fails — Aunt Goo and I always travel together. I’d thought to bring pants and maxi pads, but the day had still been awash in a haze of naughty thoughts and vaginal mucus. And of course everypony who stood within ten hooves of me could smell the state I was in. I’m especially aromatic when I’m in season.

I could feel the greasy stallion behind the counter eyeing my plot as I picked out a packet of extra absorbent pads. I glanced back at him, and he flared his nostrils and licked his lips at me. I shuddered.

“Can I get you anything else?” He leered at me as I brought my purchases to the counter.

“That will not be nethessary.” I replied, avoiding eye contact. “But may I use your rethtroom?”

He chuckled. “I don’t know, can I watch?”

I gaped at him, danced backwards, and clamped my fluffy ginger tail over my mare parts. “N-no!”

“Aw, I’m just joking with you. No need to be so stuck up.” He tossed me the keys. “It’s in the back.”

I was not stuck up. I was a lesbian. But even if I wasn’t — oh, not with someone like him. Never, ever.

Most mares will just take time off when they go into season — holing up with their spouse, a lover, or lots of ice cream and pornography, depending on preference and relationship status. Employers are required by law to offer estrus leave to mares and partners of mares — it was good for public morale, and for population growth. So I didn’t have to work. But there was so much to do! And it might not be done properly if I didn’t do it myself!

I popped the button of my pants open with my teeth, and pushed them down over my haunches with my hooves. I was a mess. Ropes of goo, thicker and stickier than my normal secretions, stuck to the pad as I pulled it away from my naughty bits. And the smell.

It’s hard to explain the difference between the normal, rich, pungent mare scent that I love so much, and heat smell. It smells sort of the same, I guess, just so much more so. I had it in spades. Plus with all the candy I eat, I taste like gooey caramel. And I get off on it. I get off on my own smell. I’m ashamed, but I’m not sorry.

I inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring, letting my scent fill my snout. I checked my watch. Ten minutes ’til my meeting. I could be a little late.

I braced my rear hooves against the door of the tiny restroom, and my back against the closed toilet lid, and rolled my sweater vest up under forelegs so I wouldn’t get anything icky on it. I carefully set my glasses on the edge of the sink, and pushed my muzzle in between my thighs.

Yes, you read that right. I hate my bony little body and my gaunt, always hungry tummy, but on the bright side, I am ridiculously flexible. If I stick my tongue all the way out, I can just reach my clit. I flicked it, and a shiver went through my body. Hairs stood on end in a wave rolling out from my hungry little pussy.

I let out a moan. The first wank of a heat cycle is always amazing.

I pressed my tongue down on the slender lavender nub, starting slowly but rapidly picking up speed. My clit was swollen and hot, and every lick sent tingling pulses through my body. My fluffy pubic ruff tickled my lower lip as I licked. The scent of my heat was getting really intense, making my head spin and my heart hammer. The arousal make me lick faster, which made my scent stronger — the perfect naughty feedback loop.

I started to wobble on the toilet and had to brace myself against the tank with my hooves. I heard a thumping sound. What was that? I Froze, afraid someone was knocking on the restroom door. The thumping stopped. I realized that it was my hind hoof, kicking involuntarily against the restroom door. That stallion could hear me! He knew what I was doing! But I was past caring.

I thought about Maud. I thought about how calm she was, and how she never took any guff from anypony. I thought about how kind she always was to me. I thought about rolling that blue coverall up over her wide, sturdy rump and pushing my muzzle in between her firm cheeks. The thought was too much. My orgasm was like being hit by a freight train. Muscles spasmed. Nerve endings sang with pleasure. Mare goo swelled up out of my puffy pussy lips, dribbling onto the restroom floor. I howled, jerking my head back so fast I banged it against the toilet lid. Then I rolled off the seat.

“Ow.” I groaned. I looked at my watch. Two and a half minutes. New record.

Another two and a half minutes later I was clean, dressed, straightened out, and with a fresh pad nestled against a very happy little Frazzle.

My post-orgasmic happiness didn’t last long, though. The clerk was staring at me, a shark-like grin on his ugly face. “Have fun?”

I rushed out the door and bolted across town to the Carousel Boutique. A small bell rang as I entered.

I stood just inside of the door or Rarity’s shop, trying to catch my breath. Of all the many bad sides to being in heat, aggressive stallions were the worst.

“I’ll be right with you, darling!”

I’d met Rarity before. She’d made me the dress I wore to this year’s Grand Geological Gala. I had looked so good! Ponies had looked at me! Me! The scrawny little pony with the paperwork cutie mark! I’d given my presentation on the role of quarray eels in giant geode formations, and everypony told me how fascinating it was, and Maud had almost smiled at me, and…

Sorry. It was a good night.

Anyway.

Rarity is kind of super hot. It’s the kind of hot that makes me feel bad, though — she clearly goes to the gym a lot, and diets, so she’s got the idealized pear figure and the firm, muscular glutes. Her fur is always clean and trimmed, her mane is always styled, her makeup is always perfect. My metabolism is so crazy high that I have to eat constantly and I’m still a scrawny little runt. If I wear makeup, it gets smudged right away, and my mane is an eldritch horror that eats combs and brushes alive. And I have ugly mule teeth and I lisp and I just hate Rarity for being so beautiful!

Also I love her. For exactly the same reasons.

“And what can I do for you, Miss Rock?” Rarity beamed at me. I’d caught her in the middle of working on something — she was wearing a tape measure around her neck like a scarf, and had a fabric marker tucked behind one ear. And she was wearing those little red horn-rimmed reading glasses, of course. How does she look so good in them? My glasses are almost exactly the same style — total coincidence, I swear — and they make me look like a freak. Not that I need a lot of help with that.

“You remember me?” I narrowed my eyes. I’d bought one dress from her. One dress.

“I remember all of my customers, darling. I believe in developing relationships!” I noticed her nostrils flare as she stepped closer to me. A brief, unreadable expression flickered across her face before she slipped back into customer service mode. “Also, I was particularly proud of the dress I made for you! So chic! So, what can I do for you today?”

“Actually I’m here in an offithial capacity today. Canterlot Geological Thurvey.” I flashed my badge.

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Really? I don’t think there’s much I could help you with.”

“On the contrary, Ma’am — your ability to locate mineral depothith is remarkable. We have a therious thortage of ponies with your skills.” Oh my Faust, I spat a little when I tried to say “deposits”. I had gotten tiny droplets of spit on the most beautiful mare in Equestria. I could just die.

She didn’t say anything, but she’d probably noticed, and was just too gracious to say anything. She was so cool. So nonchalant! So refined! Damn her.

“But how can that be? Certainly your organization attracts the best and the brightest.”

“The Canterlot Geological Thurvey attracts mainly earth ponieth, ma’am. Unicornth often find that rockth are beneath them.” See what I did there?

“Well, I’m an artist, darling, not a miner. I’m sure you can find someone else to help you.”

“But you can help miners! This isn’t just about rethearch. The Equethtrian weather thervice is planning an especially cold winter this year and we need to find new depoth… I mean, thources of coal for Celethtia’th Home Heating Athithtance program.” I widened my eyes, and pouted a little. “Poor familieth all across Equethria need your help. Would you pleathe consider volunteering a few hours a month to help us?”

Rarity shied back a little, shaking her head fiercely. “Coal? Oh, no, no, no, no, no!”

I rolled my eyes. “You wouldn’t have to touch it. You’d just tell us where it wath.”

“That’s very reassuring, but the answer is still no. Fall and winter are my busiest seasons! I just don’t have the time to volunteer! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I do have to get back to work. Please feel free to look around the shop.” She began to turn away.

I gritted my teeth. How had this selfish bitch gotten the element of Generosity?

“Thank you for your time.” I turned towards to door. As my pants moved against my rump, they stuck to the fur. My guts churned with shame. I had overflowed my pad. I had leaked. In front of Rarity of all ponies. I fumbled for the door handle. Stupid unicorns and their stupid handles. Why can’t they use push doors like everypony else?

“Frazzle, darling. Can I call you Frazzle? Please come over her for a moment.”

I froze. I turned back towards Rarity. I tried to cover the leak with my tail, but even that veritable bush was inadequate for the task.

“Please, darling. Don’t be shy. I’m not going to hurt you.” Her teeth flashed in a playful grin. “Much.”

I tapped slowly across the floor back to Rarity. She stepped alongside me. Her nostrils flared, and her nose wrinkled up the faintest bit. She glanced over her glasses at my backside, and looked me in the eyes over the top of her glasses. A comment. She was going to make a comment. It was going to be devastating. I braced myself.

“Frazzle, darling. Are you… in season?”

I gulped. I nodded.

“Oh, you must be dedicated to your job, to continue working in such a state!”

I tried to speak, but I found that my throat was dry, and wound up croaking instead. She was building up to her comment. It was going to be an especially choice one. I squinted my eyes shut, and tried to will my heart to stop beating. If I could just die fast enough…

Rarity took a deep breath. “Forgive me for being so forward, but I was just about to close up for lunch, and it has been ever so long since I’ve taken a lover. Would you care to join me upstairs for an hour or two?”

I opened one eye. “What?”

Rarity rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’m propositioning you for casual sex, darling. Please do try to keep up.”

I think my heart actually did stop. “Um, yeth?” This was probably some kind of a cruel trick, but damned if I wasn’t going to go along with it as far as I could.

She squeaked happily and clapped her hooves together. “Oh how wonderful! If I may say so you are an exceptionally lovely mare! Let me close up shop and I’ll show you upstairs. Would you care for a glass of wine?”

“I don’t drink. It goeth thtraight to my head.”

Rarity locked her door, closed the blinds, and flipped her sign around so that “open” was facing us. Then she darted to my side, still wearing her tape measure, glasses and fabric marker. We rubbed muzzles, and kissed. Her red lips brushed against mine, and her tongue flicked out, teasing, making my lips and the roof of my mouth tingle. She lured my tongue into her mouth and wrapped her lips around it, sucking on it. I felt like an oaf compared to her. My tongue blundered around the inside of her mouth, slopping over gums and teeth and hard palate. She had a bridge, and one of her back molars was chipped. I’m pretty sure I hit her tonsils, at one point.

Rarity pulled her head back, slowly, and my tongue popped free. Was there drool on my chin? I was pretty sure there was drool on my chin.

“Well. That was lovely. Shall we go upstairs?”

“Y-yes,” I stammered. Was this really happening?

Rarity nodded. “Please remove your pants, then.”

“Buh… but I’ll drip all over your floor!” I leaned towards her and whispered, “I get really, really wet when I’m in theason!”

Rarity giggled. “Yes, darling. I’d noticed. Why do you think I asked you to play?” She laid a hoof on my withers. “Now, here’s the thing.” She fixed me with a serious look over the top of her glasses. “We can have a quick little lick and fumble, if that’s what you want. But I really do best when I’m in charge. Do you understand?”

I blinked at her, confused. “Um, okay?”

Rarity nodded firmly. “Now, if I ask you to do anything you find distasteful, or if I’m hurting you, please say ‘gusset’.”

“Uh, Guthth-uthet.” Oh buck. I’d spat on her again. Dammit, Frazzle, don’t mess this up!

“Oh, dear, that won’t do.” She dabbed her nose with a small pink handkerchief. “How about ‘crinoline’.”

“Crinoline.”

“Much better.” Rarity gasped. “Oh, I almost forgot. I must get Scarf’s permission!”

I stared at her. All the ponies in this town were crazy.

“Just get out of your pants. I’ll be back in a moment.”

I fumbled with my buttons and slipped out of my pants, leaving them in a heap in the middle of the shop floor. Oh, my pad was sodden. I was drooling goo on the pristine marble floor. I pushed the pants and pad into a corner. They left a gleaming trail on the floor behind them. Mare goo dripped slowly between my hind legs. What was taking Rarity so long?

Rarity bounced back down the stairs, smiling gleefully. “Scarf says it’s okay!” She gestured imperiously towards the stairs. “Would you mind terribly going first? My bedroom is the first door on the left.”

I turned and headed for the stairs. As I put my hoof on the first step, I could feel her breath on me. I froze.

“Do go on,” said Rarity, her voice inches from my plot. Small, sharp teeth nipped lightly at my flat purple cheek. I jumped. I instinctively shied away from those bitey teeth, but I also felt my pussy wink at her.

“Oh, don’t be shy, dear. I can’t possibly worship you properly if you keep jerking away like that.”

I gulped. She ran her tongue lovingly up the tendon on the back of my thigh, making me giggle. Then she ran it along the cleft of my buttocks, all the way under the dock. “Oh, thweet Thelestia!” I groaned, back knees wobbling.

Rarity nosed me in the rump. “Keep walking, darling. Let me see those perfect runway model flanks in motion.”

I did as she said. She kept her mouth on me the whole time, licking and biting, sniffing daintily between my legs. When I got to the top of the stairs, I looked back. There was a trail of goo glistening all the way down the stairs. It was like a snail had crawled up them. I moaned, utterly humiliated. “Oh, my Faust, I’m tho thorry.”

Rarity giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous, Darling. Just because I’m so neat and tidy in public doesn’t mean I don’t like to make a mess in private sometimes.” I bit my lip as she began to tongue me again. She lapped at my tiny nipples, then slid her tongue over the lips of my hot, swollen pussy, licking up a huge mouthful of pheromone-rich filly goo. Then she walked up beside me, and opened her mouth. I looked at her blankly.

“Ofen your mouf, you philly filly,” mumbled Rarity.

I obeyed, and she drooled the whole hot, sticky mouthful onto my tongue. Then we kissed. It was a long, wet, careless kiss, and by the time we were done both of our muzzles were glistening wet.

“Now swallow it.”

I gulped down what was left of my goo. “You’re tho… tho dirty.”

Rarity giggled and blushed, holding her hoof against her lips. “It’s fun getting messy sometimes! Then you can get all cleaned up after, and nopony knows!” She waved her hoof in an arc, and whispered this last as if it was a huge revelation she was only just coming to grasp.

“Tho, um… now what?” My eyes drifted over her body — trim flanks, curvy haunches, soft belly. I hoped, really hoped, she’d let me worship her plot like she’d worshiped mine.

Rarity tossed her head. “Come to my bed.”

I sat on Rarity’s bed, kicking my legs awkwardly. I was uncomfortably aware of how my goo was soaking through her blankets. I started to pull off my shirt and sweater vest, but she stopped me. “Oh, no no no! Leave them on!” She ran a hoof over the woolen knit of my vest. “I… I like to touch the fabric.”

I noticed there was a mannequin in the corner, with a red scarf far too large for Rarity wrapped around its neck. Something felt… off about it.

“Scarf likes to watch,” explained Rarity, noticing my interest.

You know what? I was better off not knowing.

She sat next to me on the bed and held up one forehoof. I looked at it, then looked at her. She moved her hoof closer to my face, raised her eyebrows, and nodded. I cringed.

“I need you to lick my hooves, darling.”

Blech. Sex goo was one thing. But hooves were on the floor all day! I had a minor in microbiology. I could think of a list as long as my arm of things that might be on there! Most of them not particularly harmful, but it was the principle of the thing. Also dirt.

Rarity frowned, and waved her hoof in front of my nose. “Lick it. Lick it, lick it, lick it!”

I sighed, and touched the edge of Rarity’s hoof with my tongue. Most ponies’ hooves were callused and leathery from walking on them all day, but Rarity’s were clean, smooth, and well cared for. I started on the firm, flexible flesh of the hoof wall, then ran my lips around the edge — toe, quarter and heel. Rarity bit her lower lip, and pushed her other forehoof between her thighs, rubbing herself as I licked. I ran my tongue down the sole and across the frog, shivering as her moans quickened. I slid my tongue back under the ball of the hoof, then up again over the frog.

“Oh! Other hoof! Other hoof!” She held up the one that had been between her legs. This one was redolent with the heady aroma of Rarity’s musk. I leaned into it, nostrils flaring as I inhaled her delicious smell. I pushed a hoof between my hind legs, and she gently pushed it away. “Not until I tell you you can, darling.”

“Yeth Ma’am.” I nuzzled Rarity’s frog, making her bite her lower lip and groan.

“Oh, Ma’am will not do at all. What should I have you call me? Mistress is traditional, but a bit cliché. Goddess, perhaps?”

She rolled onto her back, offering me a hind hoof. I continued licking. I didn’t think she was interesting in my sparkling conversation.

“No, Goddess is too pretentious, don’t you think? Hmmmm…. Oh! I know. Lady Rarity! It has a certain ring to it, does it not? Let’s hear it.”

“Lady Rarity,” I moaned, looking up from sucking the bulb of her left hind hoof. My glasses had been knocked askew, and were flecked with spittle and other fluids, so Rarity’s face was a little indistinct, but I think she smiled.

“Oh, yes,” groaned Rarity. “Say, ‘Lady Rarity, I love licking your filthy hooves like the dirty strumpet I am.’”

I blushed. “Um, Lady Rarity, I love licking your hooves?” I felt a little silly saying it, and wasn’t crazy about calling myself a ‘strumpet’, which I was pretty sure was an old fashioned way to say ‘prostitute’.

“With conviction, darling. And as instructed.”

“Ah… I… um… uh…” I began to panic. It wasn’t that I didn’t love what I’d been doing. I just… I couldn’t say what she wanted me to say. It was just too weird.

Rarity sighed and removed my glasses. I squinted. Where Rarity had been a second ago, there was only a marshmallow-shaped blur.

“Frazzle. Listen to me.” She reached behind my head and untied my hair. It sprang out in all directions. I’m sure I looked beastly. “Oh! You have such lovely curls!” She brushed unruly ginger strands out of my face. “So. Here’s the thing. If we’re going to do this, you’re going to have to do what I say, or you will be punished. I know it’s harsh, but standards must be maintained. So you have two choices. You need to say what I told you to, or we will explore spanking. Do you understand?”

I nodded. “But… I can’t thay it. It’s too thilly!” I felt so ashamed! But in a good way? Is that weird? I was finally in a situation where control was totally out of my hooves. Twilight and the rude stallion in the convenience store had made me feel worthless. Rarity was saying far worse things to me, but the way she said them made me feel safe. Cherished. And, Faust help me, sexy.

Rarity leaned over to whisper gently in my ear. “Since you’re new at this, I will break character to remind you that you can also opt out with our safeword.”

I bit my lip and shook my head no. I could be spanked. That would be okay.

“Very well then,” said Rarity, tossing her magnificent purple mane. “You have brought this on yourself. Rest assured it will hurt you much more than it hurts me. Your hooves, please.” I held out my forehooves. She removed her tape measure from her neck, and deftly bound my legs together. Then she rolled me onto my back and trussed me up with all four legs together. I tugged at the bonds. I absolutely could not move. Who had taught her how to do this?

Rarity rolled me over so that my muzzle was pushed into a pillow and my flanks were wobbling in the air. She reached over to pick up a hairbrush-shaped blur from her bedside table. I clamped my tail down over myself, and she unceremoniously slapped me on the cutie mark with the flat of her brush. I yelped.

“Tail up like a good strumpet, darling.”

I moved my tail clear, presenting for Rarity, and squinted my eyes closed. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead. I also felt rivulets of thick, sticky, mare-in-heat goo rolling down the insides of my thighs. I felt the brush come down twice, once on the lower curve of each cheek. It stung so much! I remembered being spanked by my daddy when I was a foal, and the complicated feelings I had felt as his big, strong hooves would come down again and again on my bare plot.

Rarity’s magic was at least as strong as Daddy’s hooves.

Rarity hit me again, higher up on each cheek. The impact burned. I gritted my teeth, too proud to yelp. But, as with my daddy, my stoicism only seemed to inflame Rarity. Her blows came harder and faster, landing in the same places again and again, until I wailed with pain. I heard Rarity grunt with satisfaction. Her brush slammed into my cheeks, almost knocking me over. I shouted over and over again into the pillow. It hurt like crazy, but with the pain came a feeling of detached bliss that’s hard to describe. Oh, those sweet, sweet endorphins. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks, but I didn’t want her to stop!

But when Rarity saw my tears, she did stop.

“Are you alright, darling?”

“Yeth,” I sniveled. “That wath amazing.”

She turned the brush around. The handle pushed up against my pussy’s soaking lips, mashing them gently together. I gulped. That was a thing Daddy had never done. No matter how much I had wanted him to.

“So,” said Rarity, “tell me. What kind of mare are you?”

“I… I’m a dirty strumpet.”

Rarity pushed the round tip of the brush’s handle against my clit, and began to rub it in slow circles. “Good. That’s good. And whose strumpet are you?”

“Yourth?” I squeaked. I tried to look back at her, but my massive ginger mane blocked my view.

She flipped the brush around and slapped me lightly on my pussy lips. “And what do you call me?”

“Lady Rarity! Lady Rarity!”

She giggled, and pushed the hairbrush’s handle inside my pussy all the way up to the bristles. I squeaked. She pushed it in and out a few times, and then dragged it up under my dock.

Rarity smiled wickedly. “So tell me, strumpet. Do you enjoy pleasures of a, shall we say, fundamental nature?”

I nodded. “Thmall things.”

“Open up, then.”

I bore down, and she slid the hairbrush inside of me. My eyes rolled up into my head at the delicious feeling fullness. Holy buck. Hairbrush handle up my ass. This day had started out terribly, but it had gotten so much better.

“You have such a perfect body,” purred Rarity, rubbing my battered, red-and-purple flanks with both hooves. “So slim. So delicate.” Her touch was gentle, bringing exquisite pleasure and hot, pulsing pain.

“I don’t have a lot of choith in the matter,” I said, hazarding a bit of insubordination. “Born thith way.” My stomach rumbled. I wanted another candy bar.

“So lucky,” purred Rarity. She played with the hem of my sweater with both hooves, savoring the contrast between the thick, scratchy wool and my silky fur. She moved the brush handle gently in and out of me with her magic. I wished my hooves were free. I needed to come. I needed to come hard.

Rarity leaned over me and whispered in my ear, “So. Would my little strumpet like to eat Lady Rarity’s pussy?”

“Yeth. Oh, pleath yes,” I moaned. Rarity squeaked and clapped.

She undid my hind legs, leaving only my forehooves tied, and wriggled in between me and the headboard. I rubbed my cheeks against her lush, firm white thighs and sniffed at her lovely pink sex. I licked at the neatly trimmed ruff of fuzz that surrounded it and rubbed my open lips against her labia. Her musk smelled wonderful — pungent but sweet, like a healthy mare’s pussy should. I kissed her clit tentatively, looking up at her to make sure it was okay. The first spanking had been great, but I seriously did not think I could handle another one. She beamed down at me through her red glasses and gently pushed my head back.

“There’s something I want you to do for me first, but… well, it’s a rather odd request.” Rarity was blushing. I felt a slight chill, really hoping she didn’t want to pee on me. I cannot handle pee stuff. “I… I don’t know how to say this, and I don’t want to hurt your feelings… but… your stammer. It sometimes causes you to, um… spit?”

My right eyebrow crept up my forehead. “Um, yeth?”

“Could you… could you spit on these?” She indicated her small, plump teats with her hooves.

I considered her teats. The fur on them was cropped so short that you could see the pink of her skin through it. Bright pink nipples, hard enough to scratch glass, poked up from the top. “Thibilanth?” I said. A spray of small flecks spattered them, glistening in the fur. Rarity’s hips shuddered.

“Oh! Yes! More!”

“Thibilanth!”

“More! Really spit on them! Make me dirty!”

I gathered up as much saliva as I could, and drooled a big, glistening puddle on top of Rarity’s left teat. Then I leaned down to suck on a nipple. I twisted my nose around while I sucked, smearing the spit into her short fur. Having something in my mouth made it fill with saliva, and soon I was able to spit a nice, glistening glob onto her other teat.

“Oh, yes, yes. Now lick me!”

I licked my chops and set to work on Rarity’s clit. Her lovely haunches began to thrust, bumping her pubis against my face. I bore down on her clitoris with my tongue.

Rarity put a hoof on the back of my head and pushed me forward. “Oh, yes. There’s a good strumpet. Faster, dear. Faster. Lady Rarity needs to come. Almost… almost…”

Her pubic bone was mashing painfully into my nose. I didn’t care. Her little nub was hot and silky under my tongue. I could feel her pulse through it. Her churning hips quickened. She jammed my face forward so hard that I was afraid she was going to break my nose, and clamped her thighs around my head. She started slamming her forehoof against the headboard.

“There! There! Oh, Frazzle! Frazzle! Aaaaahhhh! Ab dab dab dab unnnnnggggghhh.” Her body went limp.

I looked up at her. The Rarity-shaped blur had a thousand yard stare, and seemed to be drooling a little out of the corner of her mouth. “Wath that okay, Lady Rarity?”

She just laughed, and then pushed me over onto my back.

“Now, you filthy little strumpet, it is your turn!” She waved both hooves over her head. “I command you to come for me! Come hard! As many times as you can!”

I looked at my trussed up forehooves, and waggled them helplessly. “Um…”

The Rarity blur nodded. “Oh. Yes. I imagine you’ll need some help, won’t you?”

Rarity leaned over me. I lifted my forehooves helpfully out of the way as she nosed my shirt tails up over my belly button. “You aren’t going to… um… oh, no, no tickleth!!! Eeeeeek!”

She stuck her tongue right into my poor navel and rolled it around. I kicked my hind legs, trying to buck my way out from under her, but she just clamped her forelegs over me and held me down. Rarity wasn’t a big or strong mare, but she was much bigger and stronger than me!

I wailed, laughing so hard my eyes were watering and my belly hurt. I pushed on her hair, but she wasn’t going anywhere. “No! No! Crayon! Crinkliing! Crinkle wrap!” Great. Now that I finally needed it, I couldn’t remember the safeword. “Oh, for Fautht’th thake, crinoline!”

Rarity stopped and looked up at me with a shame-faced grin. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.” She put her head back down, but much lower this time. A gentle tongue explored the very slight curve of my belly. She kissed and nibbled at my teats, then lapped lovingly at my unruly little fluff of pubic fur. The hairbrush was still up my ass. Rarity rotated it gently so that the bristles were facing away from her chin. The she nuzzled my slimy folds, playing with them gently with her lips and tongue.

Rarity groaned happily into my folds. “Frazzle, my precious strumpet, how is it that you taste so wonderfully sweet?”

“I… I eat almotht nothing but candy, Lady Rarity. Oh… don’t stop.”

Rarity certainly didn’t. Her tongue slipped deeper into my tunnel, lick by lick, until I realized that the tongue wasn’t the only thing going inside of me. Rarity was working the tip of her muzzle against the teeny, tiny opening of my pussy until, helped by the thick coating of goo she’d picked up, her whole snout began to push inside of me.

My eyes snapped wide open. “Oh, golly!” I gasped. She pushed into me up to her eyeballs with one big thrust. Our little tickle adventure had left my head very near the edge of the bed, and this pushed my head right over it. Rarity quickly grabbed my thighs with her forelegs to keep me from going any further, but my curly ginger mane tumbled across Rarity’s bedroom floor.

The white unicorn tugged at my thighs, ramming her snout deep inside of me again and again. A warm glow of unicorn magic engulfed my clit, gently rubbing it and pinching it. I bit my lower lip and whimpered with luxurious delight. Nopony had ever done this for me before. Least of all a mare as pretty as Rarity. I thought of her perfect, bee-stung lips leaving traces of lipstick inside my cunt, and I couldn’t hold back.

I came. Second time that day, and just as hard.

My hips jerked up, slamming my pussy against Rarity’s face. My legs kicked uncontrollably. I could feel mare goo welling up around poor Lady Rarity’s muzzle. The world was spinning, ringing. Someone was screaming bloody murder, and I eventually realized it was me.

I felt Rarity pull out, gasping. “Oh! Thank Celestia you came, I was starting to run out of air.”

I wriggled up to where I could see her. She looked pretty blurry without my glasses, but I could see that my Lady was a disaster. Her mane was a sweaty, tangled mess. Her lipstick was smeared back across both sides of her muzzle and over her chin. Her glasses had been knocked completely askew. And her whole face was covered in a thick layer of my transparent filly cum. “Lady Rarity. You’re so… so beautiful…”

“Thank you, darling,” she said, reaching up to push me back down, “but I’m not done yet.”

She wrapped her lovely lips around my little lavender clit, and started to lick. She moved carefully and gently, building pace and pressure slowly. The muzzle fuck had been rough, almost violent. This was slow torture. She rubbed my clit with her tongue slowly, building and building until she could feel my thighs start to tense, and then she stopped. “Nooooo!” I wailed with frustration.

“What? Do we already want to come again? What a greedy little strumpet you are, Frazzle.” Rarity giggled, and rubbed lightly at my pussy with her hoof. “In fact…” She began to levitate that fabric marker. “Tell me, strumpet, do you generally wear a top?”

“Yeth?” What was she going to do with that marker?

“Well, you’ll certainly want to continue wearing one for the next several weeks, then.” Rarity’s magic tugged my sweater up to my legpits, and clamped my barrel firmly to the bed. She uncapped the marker, and lowered it slow to my belly, where it began to write.

“Oh, no… no… don’t… please… no…”

She glanced up at me with a raised eyebrow. I nodded, but continued to protest. “Please, thtop… I don’t want anyone to know what I’m really like!”

“Nonsense, dear. What if you become lost? What will I do then?” Rarity began to write: ‘Rarity’s Strumpet. If lost, please return to...” and then wrote her address in in careful hornwriting across my belly. She capped the marker with a flourish. “Now that you are properly marked, would you like me to claim you a final time?”

“Please do,” I moaned. “Please, Lady Rarity…”

Rarity tossed her bedraggled mane, and ground her soft hoof against my cunt. “Then beg, strumpet.”

“Puh… puh… pleathe…” I desperately wanted her to start licking me again. I felt like I could come from just her hoof, if I let myself, but it wouldn’t be the same as that silky tongue. “Pleathe, I need it. Will you lick me more?”

“That depends, Frazzle. Are you my dirty little strumpet?”

“Yes! I’m the dirtiest little strumpet!”

“Are you my sweet little fuck pig?”

“Yeth, yeth, yeth, I’m a nathty, nathty pig. Lick. Lick, pleath!”

“Will you be Lady Rarity’s pretty, pretty pussy pet forever and ever?” I could hear the amusement in her voice. She thought this was funny!

“Yeth! As long ath you want! Just lick me ple-e-athe!” I slammed my bound hooves against my forehead.

“Are you an orange and yellow striped guinea pig with pixie wings and a taste for exotic marmalade?”

“Yeth! Yeth I am! Lady Rarity I will literally thay anything you want me to! Just lick me-he-he-he!”

And she did. Her tongue wiggled rapidly up and down, roughly massaging the hot flesh of my clit. By the sixth rough lick, I was gone. The pleasure was so intense I left my body. I saw myself, twitching, biting at the tape measure around my forelegs, hind legs kicking. I saw Rarity, her body all clean lines and gentle curves, lounging between my legs still licking.

Then everything turned into purple light, and the next thing I knew I was lying next to Rarity, our legs tangled together, kissing her. Her whole mouth tasted like my pussy. Both our rib cages were heaving. I pushed my chest hard against hers, and felt our hearts beating together.

I still had the hairbrush up my ass.

I laughed into Rarity’s mouth.

———

Some time later, I was getting cleaned up. Rarity had bathed first, then excused herself to change her soaked sheets and mop up her shop floor. As she returned, I heard the soft thump of something being tossed in a trash bin.

“I’m sorry, but I can never put you anywhere near my hair again. Goodbye, old friend.”

I sighed happily and sank down into the bubble bath in Rarity’s tub, letting my mane spread out around me. Rarity’s bathroom smelled like a spice shop, and I was very much looking forward to getting to know one of those extremely fluffy towels once the water got cold.

I heard the bathroom door open.

“So.”

I opened one eye. Rarity’s hair and makeup were perfect again. “Tho.”

Rarity took a deep breath. “Thank you for showing me a lovely afternoon.”

I sighted sadly. It had been. It was over, now. “I can leave as thoon as you need me to,” I sulked, sinking down to my nostrils and eyeballs in the bubble bath.

Rarity blushed. “Actually, I was wondering… I mean, I don’t mean to presume… but it… it was… very lovely.”

I held my breath. What the buck was happening?

“I imagine that you might have some estrus leave coming.” Rarity shuffled her hoof on the tile floor. “And I was wondering if there was any chance you might be convinced to spend it in Ponyville. So that we might have a chance to become better acquainted.”

I sat up ramrod straight in the bath. Was this some kind of a joke?

Rarity continued, “I mean, simply as friends, if that’s what you’re comfortable with. There’s no reason to rush into anything.”

I tried to respond. My mouth wouldn’t work. Rarity turned, clearly misinterpreting my silence. “Very well. I’m sure you have pressing matters in Canterlot that need your attention. I apologize for my impertinence.” She hung her head.

I stumbled out of the bath, hooves flailing, water splashing everywhere. “No! Wait! Thtop!”

Rarity raised her head, and turned.

“I’d love too. Just let me thend a telegram. And… there are a couple of other thingth I need to attend to in town. Do you have a pair of pants I could borrow?”

———

I kicked open the door of the convenience store. The clerk jerked his face out of his porn magazine, and tried to stuff it under the counter.

I pointed an accusing hoof at him. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Treating a lady the way you did!”

The clerk pony swallowed. “I… I’m sorry?”

I clomped furiously up to the counter and slammed my hoof down on it. “Thorry isn’t good enough, bucko! I’ve half a mind to tell your mother the things you thaid to me! And a whole mind to tell your thupervithor!”

He sank down so that only his eyes were poking up over the edge of the counter. “Um… okay? Who are you, again?”

I narrowed my eyes, and leaned forward. “Your. Wortht. Nightmare.”

“Celestia please help me.”

“Also could I pleathe have three candy bars and that bag of carrot jerky?”

I pranced out of the convenience store, chewing on jerky. That had been satisfying. Earlier this morning, I’d been nopony. Now, I was a mare who had caught the eye of Rarity, Mustang magazine’s #5, #7, and #2 hottest mare in Equestria for three years running, respectively.

Not that I know anything about Mustang magazine.

Anyway, it would be crass to bring up volunteer work right away with Rarity at this point, but if things went well (hooves crossed) there would be plenty of opportunities to talk her into it. But that research expedition was the main reason I came to Ponyville! I stood in front of Twilight’s palace, stashed my glasses in a bush next to the gate, and took a deep breath. I could do this. I knocked on the door. Twilight’s little purple dragon majordomo answered.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“I’m thorry, but I think I might’ve left my glasses here. Can I come in and have a look around?”

Spike yawned. “Yeah. Sure. Whatever.” He opened the door.

In the throne room, Twilight was talking quietly to the yellow one. Perfect! Twilight said something, and the yellow one — what was her name, again? — giggled, covering her mouth with a hoof.

“Pardon me, Printheth, just looking for my glathes,” I said, peering under the cutie map.

“Oh,” said Twilight, “I’m sorry. I thought you were wearing them when you left.”

“Wath I? Thorry, I’m tho forgetful.” I squirmed under the table, and sat up next to the yellow one. “I hope you don’t mind my thpeaking out of turn, your Highness, but it’s really a thame you weren’t interested in that research expedition. The Canterlot Geological Survey was prepared to support establishing the Everfree as a protected wildlife refuge.”

“Really?” gasped the yellow one.

“Yeth!” I fished a binder out of my saddlebags. “I can’t see a thing without my glatheth, but if you’ll just look under ‘environmental impact athethment’, you’ll see what I mean.”

I watched the yellow blur scanning the pages I’d sent her to for a minute or two. “Oh, Twilight,” she said, “I’m so sorry to change my mind, but we have to do this!”

Twilight rolled her eyes and sighed. My smile split my face in half. Today just kept getting better and better.

Out of My Depth

There’s a joke my daddy used to tell — what does a lesbian bring on the second date?

A moving wagon.

But Rarity and I hadn’t even had a first date yet, had we? We were going to fix that tonight. Until then I had an entire day to kill in Ponyville. An entire day of knee-shaking, tail-tucked, pants-wetting terror at the prospect of a fancy dinner with a mare who I now desperately desired but clearly had nothing in common with. Literally pants-wetting if my pads didn’t hold out.

I’d spent a sleepless night at the Motel Hay down by the train station, and was now ensconced in the corner booth at Queequeg’s Coffee with a giant cup of mocha milkshake and a stack of trade journals. Sugarcube Corner was Neighgat rated as the number one breakfast joint in the entire Canter River Valley, but Rarity had warned me that if her friend who worked there even suspected what had happened between us there would be celebration.

Celebration was a bit premature, I felt. Really, really premature.

I kept looking up from the article on geothermal boreholes I was pretending to read to check the shop for pink fur. I had no idea why Pinkie would be in a worse coffee place than the one she worked in, but if she did show up I had picked a position strategically near the emergency exit. I was so focused on the color pink that when blue and yellow mares sat in the booth on either side of me I was taken by surprise.

“Hey,” the blue one said. “Mind if we sit? It’s kind of crowded.”

It was manifestly not crowded, there were at least a half-dozen open tables. I looked at the blue one and gulped. While I still couldn’t remember the yellow one’s name, I sure did remember Rainbow Dash, Mustang magazine’s Miss August ’03.

“It’s… it’s a free printhipality,” I mumbled, shoving my nose into my magazine until the end squished up against the paper. I had, uh, made use of that particular issue for months, and it still had a cherished place in my private materials folder. I don’t want you to think I had feelings for Rainbow Dash, because I didn’t. It was just a porn thing. But there’s something especially awkward about talking to someone you’ve thought about while masturbating. See also every working day with Maud.

“So, hey, I don’t want to be rude…” Rainbow began.

“We really don’t. Please tell us if we’re being rude!” the yellow one added. I racked my brain. She’d been a model for a little while, hadn’t she? I still saw her photo on bags of chips. Why couldn’t I remember her name?

“…but you know how vicious small town rumors can be. We heard that the Carousel Boutique was closed for almost two and a half hours yesterday afternoon, and that when it opened up again you were seen coming out.”

I felt my cheeks begin to burn. “I… I don’t thee how that’th any of your buthineth.”

The yellow one cleared her throat.

“You have something you want to add, Flutterslut?”

She nodded. “I talked to her right at the end of that timeframe and she smelled like the brand of bubble bath soap Rarity uses. Also stop calling me that.”

I ground my teeth together. “Yeah? Maybe I was over at her plathe. Tho what?” I felt so humiliated that I wanted to cry. Why were all of Rarity’s friends so awful?

Rainbow clapped her hooves to her cheeks. “Oh. My. Gosh. Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh!”

The yellow one put her hooves over her mouth and inhaled sharply. “So it’s true!”

Then they both hugged me. Yellow and blue forelegs squeezed me until I couldn’t breathe and I had to thump on them to let me go.

Rainbow threw her hooves in the air. “This is so awesome! Rarity hasn’t been on a date since the first Gala we went to, and we all know how that turned out.”

The yellow one nodded. “I didn’t even know she was bi!”

“All the best ponies are,” said Rainbow.

The yellow one smirked. “It’s true!”

Ponies at nearby tables were looking at us. Rarity’s friends were making a spectacle of me. I wanted to die. I tried to slide under the table, but Rainbow grabbed me by the elbow and hauled me back up.

“Gee, I never would have pegged you for Rarity’s type,” she said.

“So how did you two meet?” asked the yellow one, clapping her hooves together.

“She, um, made a dreth for me. We, um… uh, we have a date tonight.” I wanted to get away from the topic of ‘how we met’ as quickly as possible. Faust help me if they wanted details. They seemed like the type that might want details.

“Where you going?” said Rainbow.

“Les Aliments.”

“Fancy.”

The yellow one frowned. “What are you wearing? Have you made your spa appointment yet?”

I blinked. Wearing? Spa?

She grabbed my shoulders with her hooves. “Oh, please tell me you’re not going like this.”

“I… um… what?”

Rainbow stroked her chin. “Flutters has a point. Playing dress-up isn’t my scene, but Rarity is a stickler for formality. You don’t wanna show up on a date with her looking all Nerdy McNerdsalot.”

“I… but… I didn’t bring a dreth!”

“Oh my goodness no!” the yellow one looked me up and down. “You can wear one of my dresses — you’re almost my size. Quite a bit smaller in the hips, but I can take it in. We’ll need to get you over to see Aloe and Lotus right away, though!”

Smaller in the hips? I glanced down. The yellow one was almost as thin as me, except that she looked like she was sitting on a beach ball.

Rainbow elbowed me in the ribs. “Get ’em to give you the happy ending special while you’re there. Those two give the best hoofjobs east of Dodge City.”

“Rainbow! She’s going on a date with our friend! That kind of talk is not appropriate!” The yellow one blushed. “Though… they are really good.”

I shuddered. Whatever happened at that spa, I was not going to be getting a massage.

———

That evening I was in the front lobby of Les Aliments, my mane an elegant tumble of banana curls so stiff with product you could bounce bits off of them, wearing a green and yellow dress that clashed with my fur color and fit me like a tent, even after the yellow one’s frantic amateur alterations. I was about fifteen minutes early. So much for being fashionably late. I was wearing two pads, and prayed that would be enough for me not to humiliate myself in public.

This was not my kind of place. I had agreed when Rarity had suggested it, but I would have agreed if she’d suggested a hearty round of self-flagellation followed by bungee jumping. It wasn’t that I didn’t know which fork to use or anything like that — I’d lived in Canterlot for years. It wasn’t the food — I was sure that would be fine. It was the long, drawn-out ceremony of these places.

Places like this are all about ceremony. You wait. Someone leads you to a table. You get drinks while you carefully chose what you’d like to eat. Then you wait for them to bring you the food. If you really like food, or ceremony, it’s great. Very exciting. If your belly is a gnawing vortex of constant hunger, it’s torture. I’d snuck a candy bar and a couple of apples on the way over, but I’d already burned through them by the time Rarity stepped through the door, exactly on time.

On the bright side, my fear of being stood up evaporated. On the down side, Rarity was resplendent. She was wearing a casual blue dress — simple and modest, but flattering. A belt with just the faintest suggestion of a saddle emphasized the curve of her belly and hips. She wore a little knit shrug against the unseasonable evening chill. I felt a flutter in my belly, and a wave of moisture rushed into my pads. I prayed I could make it through dinner without staining the yellow one’s dress. Why hadn’t I thought to bring extra pads?

Rarity scanned the foyer, looking right past me on her first take. Then her eyes snapped back. She gave a little gasp of horror, and laid a hoof over her heart. One of my hairs worked its way out of the product, bouncing into a spring-like curl with an audible twang. All four of my knees started to shake. Rarity was gorgeous. I was hideous. She was a grown-up. I was a little filly playing dress-up. It had happened — She’d seen the real me, and she didn’t want me any more. My eyes started to water. I wanted to run, but I was too scared to move.

“Oh, Frazzle, darling, I am so sorry!” Rarity was at my side, looking… furious? Was I such a brutal crime against fashion that she was mad at me? “I cannot believe… Fluttershy! Of all ponies! What did she say to you? What did she do to you? What? How…”

“Uh… ith she the yellow one?”

“Yes. Yes, that’s Fluttershy. Was it her?”

I nodded. “Her and Rainbow Dathh. How did you know?”

“I made Fluttershy that dress, darling. Honestly! Those two! I do apologize for them! Fluttershy is a sweetheart, normally, and Rainbow is tolerable enough on her own. But together… oh! They are not a couple, they are a natural disaster waiting to happen.” She leaned over to whisper in my ear. “Did you know they almost destroyed the universe, once?”

“They did?”

“Yes! I shouldn’t be telling you, though. The whole incident is just the tiniest bit classified — some details might reflect poorly on a certain highly placed friend of mine.”

I looked at her sidelong, completely at a loss as to how to respond to gossip about matters of national security.

“But anyhow — the dress is definitely not a good look for you. Of course you and the dress are both marvelous, but the combination is, shall we say, not felicitous. But I must compliment you on your mane.”

I blushed. “Th-thank you, Lady Rarity.” Another hair popped free.

Rarity giggled. “Oh, just Rarity, please. ‘Lady Rarity’ is for private times. Anyhow, shall we have dinner?”

The dining room of Les Aliments was beautiful. It was intimate, with only a dozen or so tables. A candlelit chandelier gave a soft amber glow to the dark hardwood furnishings. The brick walls were hung with lovingly painted scenes of earth ponies doing farm work. I saw that there was a sequence to them — a family was building a home and barn in one, and in the next few the same family was shown planting, tending, and harvesting an apple orchard. Finally, in the painting next to us, they were shown dancing to fiddle music as snow fell outside.

“Everything here is lovely, but I find the eggplant especially piquant.” Rarity scanned the menu briefly, then set it aside. She was a mare who knew exactly what she wanted.

I felt my heart stop when I saw the prices. I squinted, checking to see if maybe some decimal points had been misplaced. Rarity must’ve seen my expression. “Order whatever you want, darling. It’s my treat.”

I felt humiliated at being so transparent. A junior CGS agent didn’t make much, but I could certainly afford to splurge on a nice evening every once in a while. “Oh, I could never let you…”

Rarity laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, darling. I had no intention of letting you pay.”

“But I…”

Rarity waved a hoof. “No.”

“But…”

“No. Not having it.”

“Um, okay.” I looked down at the menu. It was a blur of Prench names and exotic ingredients. I would just order the eggplant, I decided, setting the menu down with a trembling hoof. I looked across the table at Rarity. She didn’t look much older than me but I had been an undergrad, and she an established business owner, when she and her friends had brought Princess Luna back. She must be at the very least five years my senior. The thought made me — and I’m sorry if you think this is strange — really excited. I’d had some past encounters with older mares and I very much appreciated the extra experience they brought to love making. No wonder yesterday afternoon had been so wonderful! I shifted my hips uncomfortably. What’s-her-name was definitely not getting this dress back in the condition she’d lent it to me in. Also, the restaurant might need to reupholster my chair.

We ordered. The waiter brought us our drinks and the bread basket. I didn’t even taste the first roll, and my hoof was halfway to the basket for a second before I realized I was being rude. I looked at Rarity sheepishly.

“Oh, go right ahead. I don’t eat bread. Carbs, you know.” She lifted her wine glass, and swirled it, admiring its legs and its golden shimmer, before taking a sensual sip.

I took a big bite out of my second roll. It was excellent — light, fluffy, and warm, with a thick, flaky crust. I took a sip of my cola to wash it down.

“So, I hesitate to ask such a personal question so soon, but your… diet. Is it a medical condition?”

I shook my head, swallowing a bite of my third roll. “I don’t think tho. My parentth took me to all kinds of doctorth when I was a foal. I’m perfectly healthy. I get really punchy and grouchy if I don’t get enough to eat, but otherwise it’th never really cauthed me any trouble.”

“So you aren’t likely to pass out and need some sort of injection or something at a random moment?”

I thought that was why she was asking. “Nopers. Never happened. One doctor thought it might be a magic thing. Earth pony magic ith really poorly understood — some of uth are just really strong, or really good at growing crops. But my partner can break rockth with her bare hooves. Some of us can do crazy things that don’t make any thense. I don’t have to thleep much. Maybe I’m hungry all the time becauthe of that?”

“Your… partner?” Rarity raised an eyebrow.

“In the CGS, yeah. Maud Pie.” I rolled my head back and slid down in my chair a little. “She is tho cool! She ith just the beth geologist I know! And she’th always tho calm! I wish I could be more like her!”

Rarity gasped. “You know Maud?”

“Oh my goth! Yeth! She’s Pinkie’s sister, isn’t she! She doethen’t… you know, she doesn’t make a big deal out of being related to a hero.”

“A hero?” Rarity seemed amused. “I can see why you could call Pinkie that.”

I blushed. “Well, all of you are, aren’t you? I mean, you’ve thaved us all, tho many times.” How had we gotten on to this topic? I mean it was true, but saying it out loud made me sound like a fanfilly. Did Rarity think I was a fanfilly, now?

Luckily, the food arrived just then, saving me from social awkwardness. There was a time when fancy restaurants were stingy with their portions, but happily that trend had moved on. We ate in silence for a little while. My eggplant steak was thick and juicy — crispy on the outside and smooth and creamy on the inside. It was covered with a crust of a tangy cheese that I didn’t recognize, mixed with aromatic herbs and breadcrumbs.

“Oh, this ith tho good!”

“I’m glad you like it, dear. All their ingredients are locally sourced.”

I nodded. “I grew up on a farm in a little town near Whinnyapolith. I miss the food — you can’t get really fresh vegetableth like thith in Canterlot.”

There was a hearty pile of risotto in the side, umami as anything, with chewy little mushrooms in it. I was almost glad I hadn’t really read the menu — everything about the meal was a surprise.

The food gave me energy, and energy gave me the courage to ask a few questions of my own. “Where are you from, originally?”

“Oh, I grew up in Ponyville.”

“You theem tho… cothmopolitan. I’m a little thurprised you’ve stayed here.”

“I’ve often wondered about that myself.” She dabbed her lips with her napkin, and set down her fork next to her half-eaten eggplant. I couldn’t believe she hadn’t finished her meal. Though I guess it was a lot of food, by most pony’s standards. “I… hesitate to say it, and I hope you’ll bear in mind that I say this in confidence, but I must admit that I used to be afraid of the big city.”

I raised an eyebrow as I mopped up some stray grains of rice with a chunk of eggplant. “Theriouthly?”

Rarity nodded. “I was afraid of failing. The thought of being so close to my dreams and not attaining them was more than I could bear. So instead I carved out my little niche in Ponyville, and in retrospect it was an excellent decision. The Carousel Boutique has served as a home base from which to branch out into bigger things. My work is known and respected in Canterlot and Manehattan and… well, I must say I’ve rather proud of the little galleries and music clubs that have been popping up in downtown Ponyville the past few years. I sometimes entertain the conceit that I’ve been influential in the growth of the Ponyville arts scene. Though I think that Twilight’s presence has had more to do with that than anything else. Artists need patrons, after all, and what better patron than a princess?

“There’s another reason I’ve stayed. But before I tell you, you must promise never to tell anyone else. Especially Applejack.”

“Croth my heart.” My tummy was suffused with the warm glow that comes from being full of good food. Even better, Rarity was confiding in me! It made me feel special.

Rarity took a deep breath. “I’ve found, having spent some time there, that I don’t share the values of the big cities. I’ve met many wonderful ponies in Canterlot and Manehattan, but I’ve also found that the fashion world is full of ponies who are only interested in what other ponies think of them. It has its share of backstabbing cutthroats, as well. I admit, I still long for fame and fortune. But I was raised with simple values of honesty and hard work, and I’ve been most happy when I’ve stuck closest to those values. No matter where I go, I’ll always be a Ponyville filly at heart.”

“Whoa.” Rarity was such an awesome pony!

“But again — not a word of this to Applejack. Ever. I would never hear the end of it.”

I ran my hoof in front of my lips like I was zipping them shut.

“So. Dessert?”

———

We went back to her place after dinner, leaning against each other, talking and giggling like schoolfillies. I’d been so afraid that the dinner would be an awkward, silent ordeal, but Rarity had kept the conversation flowing. I felt like I could really talk to Rarity, which was unusual in my dating life. Honestly I’d never had a successful date. All my sexual experiences had been casual hookups or awkward fumbles with friends. In Canterlot, a diamond dog with a hare lip could go home with the hottest pony in the room — literally, I’d seen it happen — but true love was never easy to find.

I freaked myself out a little, thinking about the L-word so soon, but then we were in front of Rarity’s door, and the kissing started. It started as a hesitant goodnight kiss, but it felt so good we couldn’t stop. I tasted the flourless chocolate cake she’d had for dessert as I rooted around her mouth like a clumsy frat colt. Our forehooves went to each other’s bodies, stroking, fumbling, and the next thing I knew I was being telekinetically hauled through her front door. She plopped me down on four hooves, and her horn blazed as she ripped my dress from my body. I cringed at the sound of fabric tearing.

“But… the yellow one’s dress!” I stood in the middle of her shop floor, naked except for the pair of panties that held my pads in place. The whole arrangement was hopelessly sodden; I could feel wetness all the way down to my fetlocks.

“I will make her a new one,” said Rarity, magically dropping the dress behind the checkout counter. “I can’t stand to look at you in that atrocity any longer.” She stepped up behind me, inhaling my heat scent deeply. “The panties, however, are a lovely look for you.” She kissed and nuzzled along my spine up to my withers. Every hair on my body stood on end. I felt her magic gently withdrawing the pads from my panties, and heard her tossing them in a trash bin with a wet thump. She kissed the edge of my ear, teasing it with her lips, and whispered, “Maybe we can take you out in public wearing them sometime. What do you think of that, little strumpet?”

Her voice tickled my ear. I felt a fresh rush of mare goo trickle down the insides of my thighs. “Oh, Lady Rarity, I’d be tho scared.”

“Everyone would see what a sexy little strumpet you are. But if they asked, you would have to tell them you were mine, and they couldn’t have you. Can you imagine? At a crowded club in Canterlot? In Ponyville, ponies still try not to stare. But in Canterlot… oh, you’d be the center of attention. All those eyes on you. Objectifying you. Staring at your perfect body. Especially at how your panties set off your trim little derrière.”

She slid her hoof across my belly, down between my legs to play with my teats and the hem of my sodden panties. She tugged the hem up my belly, rubbing it against my nipples, and tugging the crotch in between my hot, puffy pussy lips. “So, what sort of panties would I have you wear, hmmm? Sexy silk ones like these? Cotton panties like a little filly would wear? Or maybe a little thong that covers almost nothing, and is just there to show what a little… what a little slut you are.”

I shivered. She hadn’t used any really bad words with me yet. At least, not ones that have been in common use any time in the past 200 years. Part of me hoped this didn’t become a regular thing, but another part of me — specifically the part at the back that was having wet silk rubbed against it — was thrilled. Rarity could call me whatever she wanted to.

“It’s funny,” said Rarity, turning back to look at my face, using her magic to grind the panties against my clit. “If a pony walks into a room naked, no one cares. She might get an admiring glance or two. A pervert might sneak a peek under her tail, perhaps. But for the most part, ponies will deal normally with her.” The cloth enveloped my clit, working its way under the hood, molding itself to my tiny nub perfectly. Rarity had exceptionally fine control of her magic. My knees began to wobble.

Rarity gave me an affectionate kiss and nuzzle, then walked past me. At some point she had rolled her little blue dress up to her little saddle-belt. Her rump was bare. I stared at the way her triple diamond mark moved with the muscle and fat underneath it as she walked. The scent of her musk wafted towards me from under her lifted tail. I leaned forward, hypnotized, trying to get a better smell, and got a magical spark on my nose for my trouble. “Only with permission, darling. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. And of course, if that same mare walked into a room in a magnificent dress, everypony would be struck by her beauty. At least, anypony worth talking to.”

The panties were moving against me, rubbing my clit — slowly, so as not to give me fabric burns, but firmly. Hot pleasure was building inside of me. I was afraid that Rarity would punish me if I came out of turn, but I couldn’t find the voice to ask her to stop. It felt too good! Rarity was still talking. “But if that same pony walked into the same room dressed, for example, in a pair of pink silk panties with lace on the edges” — she tugged sharply on the top hem of my panties, wedging them in between my flanks — “it would create quite a sensation. It would be viewed as provocative. Indecent. Sexual. In some parts of Equestria, she might even be arrested. Though certainly not in Canterlot.” Rarity was standing behind me, presumably watching as she magically molested me with my own panties. “How does thinking about that make you feel, little strumpet?”

“Like I need to come, Lady Rarity… so badly,” I groaned. My heart was hammering. My pussy burned. I was so close, struggling to hold back.

She tugged sharply at my panties again, yanking them painfully against my pussy. I yelped, and only barely managed to will myself not to come. Rarity was teaching me how good a little bit of pain in just the right place could feel. “You will come when I say you can come, strumpet.”

“Pleathe, Lady Rarity! Pleathe!”

I felt her lapping at the soaking wet cheeks of my rump. Her tongue slid back and forth between my fur and the fabric, savoring the contrast in textures. “Patience, Frazzle. Patience,” she mumbled in between licks.

I bit my lower lip and squinted my eyes closed. My head was spinning.

Rarity licked my clit through the panties. I was shaking, gasping, out of my mind with lust. “So what do you say? Shall I take you to Canterlot dressed like this one day? Be honest, you will not be punished for saying ‘no’.”

“Yes. I want it so bad! Pleathe!” I’d have agreed to anything at that point. Hopefully we could talk it out more later.

“Then come.” She pulled my panties aside, and pushed her nose in between my cheeks. Her tongue touched my clit — so hot, so soft. The feeling was so intense that I came in just a few luxurious licks. A shock went through my body, and my knees shook, then gave way. I screamed, and fell to the floor.

“Oh dear!” Rarity dropped to her knees at my side. “Frazzle, darling, are you quite all right?”

I nodded weakly in reply. I felt calm. Warm. At peace. I felt… oh, Faust, I was crying. Crying like a crazy mare.

“Frazzle! Oh, Frazzle!” Rarity’s forelegs were around me, cradling me against her chest. “Whatever is wrong?” She stroked my mane. It was frizzy again; in all the excitement I hadn’t even noticed it working free of the product that Lotus and Aloe had labored to hold it down with.

“Why… Why me? What’s tho thpecial about me?” I sniffled, and wiped my nose. “You could have anypony in the world. Why me? I’m ugly and I have a thtupid voice and I’m boring! My thpecial gift is that I’m good at filling out paperwork! Why in the world would thomepony like you be interested in thomepony like me?”

Rarity turned my head towards her with her hoof, and smiled. “First off, darling, you are beautiful. And you have the sweetest voice I have ever heard. And you are a fascinating pony who I am absolutely dying to learn more about. But do you know what especially draws me to you?”

I shook my head no, and rubbed at my eyes.

Rarity ran her hoof over my mane. It flattened out, then popped straight back up after her hoof went by. “Because you are so very, very Frazzle. I work in an industry that is all about appearances. Sometimes I wonder if there are any real ponies in it at all. I myself have tried to replace my true self with an illusion I thought others would find more enticing. I’ve done it more than once. But even though you clearly have no confidence in yourself, you still put yourself out there every day. Your every action says to the world, ‘Like it or not, this is Frazzle Rock. You must take me as I am, or not at all.’ You are so terribly, terribly brave.”

I wiped my nose on my hoof. “You mutht think I’m thyco, though. Crying after thex.”

Rarity snorted. “Nonsense. It is a mare’s prerogative. Now, do you remember how I followed you up the stairs yesterday?”

“Yuppers. I will never, ever forget.”

“Would you like to follow me upstairs this time?”

I nodded so hard I thought my eyes might fall out of my head. So we went upstairs together. We finally fell asleep some time after dawn.

All the Ponies in this Town are Crazy

After that night, we both accepted it — we were in love. Sure, we barely knew each other. But things were going so well between us that we decided to accept it as fate. Whatever else our affair would be, it would be passionate.

At least, that’s how Rarity put it. I would have said it less melodramatically, but I largely agreed.

When I was a filly, I thought falling in love would mean entering a wonderful world of blissful intimacy. And it sort of did. I didn’t sleep in the motel again, and Rarity and I spent hours and hours that week talking, cuddling, and making elaborate, bondage-based love. We went out every night — to eat, to look at those galleries and music shows Rarity had mentioned, and once to see Ponyville’s small but scrappy amateur theatre troupe gleefully butcher Titus Draconequus — it was, without a doubt, the funniest tragedy I had ever seen. I thought she and I would have nothing in common, but Rarity was all about high culture, and my relentless search for intellectual stimulation had brought me into more contact with that than I’d realized.

But Rarity had dresses to make, and there were long, lonely hours where I was left to my own devices in a strange town. Which lead to the biggest problem of all with being in love: my lover’s friends. I hadn’t met Applejack, and I didn’t see the yellow one after the second day — they both worked outside of town. But the others presented challenges. Twilight’s collection of books was legendary, even after losing most of them when her library was destroyed, but after manipulating her into allowing that research expedition, I thought it best to steer clear of her and get my reading material from the local bookstore. Sugarcube Corner was another bushel of pears entirely. I just had to sample their baked goods, and once I did, I was addicted. Unfortunately, this meant talking to Pinkie Pie. She could not get enough of me. If she was at the counter, there was no way I was getting out of there in less than hour. She would ply me with muffins and coffee and talk to me endlessly while she served other customers. Even though I rarely got in five words for every fifty of hers, I still left feeling like I’d been pumped for information. I couldn’t help it, though — I liked Pinkie. Anybody who gave me that much free food was aces in my book.

Rainbow Dash was everywhere. Working for the Equestrian Weather Service apparently involved a lot of lazing around on clouds. Like Pinkie, she was fascinated by me, but unlike Pinkie, she was not charming about it. She’d find me almost every day, and ask me question after question. Shopping downtown? Doing laps in the swimming pond? Reading in Rarity’s bedroom? No place was private. How long was I staying? A week. Was I still seeing Rarity? I’m in her bedroom, aren’t I? What are you reading? The Mare in the High Palace by Horselover Fat. Gee, you’re an awfully good swimmer. Gold medal, 400-meter mares’ freestyle, ’04 Equestria Games. I couldn’t escape the feeling that behind all the questions was the fact that she just could not believe that someone like Rarity would be interested in someone like me. Yeah, well, join the club.

The absolute worst, though, was Twilight’s dragon assistant, Spike. The first time we’d met he’d been arrogant and conceited, but it didn’t seem personal. I had clearly done something to make him angry since I arrived in town, and I had no idea what it was. He was constantly out doing errands for the Princess; we kept running into each other. His rage escalated every time we met. It started with resentful glares, escalated to jostling me in crowds, and moved on to acts of outright terrorism. At Sugarcube Corner Pinkie caught him trying to put salt in my coffee while I was in the bathroom. He sneezed on a shopping bag full of maxi pads and candy bars while I was waiting in line at the market, vaporizing it. He apologized with unconcealed sarcasm, and immediately coughed it back up, light several candy bars and containing a note reading, “Don’t think this was meant for me. Sorry about the candy, couldn’t help myself. —C” which I had framed when I got home.

So, not entirely successful as terrorism, but it was the spirit of the thing.

———

The night before I was supposed to return to Canterlot, Pinkie threw me a party. There were a lot of things I’d rather do than socialize with near strangers — like having goodbye sex with Rarity — but they were Rarity’s closest friends, so I suppose I had to at least try to fit in with them.

Pinkie Pie had definitely been pumping me for information. The food included hushponies like my mom used to make, the rock candy Maud had gotten me into, all my favorite pastries from Sugarcube Corner, and a big bowl of my favorite candy bars — the ones with the peanuts and caramel on the inside. Those are so good!

The music somehow managed to find a balance between my and Rarity’s very divergent tastes. Pinkie’s mix of Rarity’s classical music and melodramatic pop and my Hööfsker Dö and Excitable Colt was pretty groovy. Pinkie had paid attention to everything I’d told her, except the part where I’d explained I was an introvert and really didn’t like parties. Though she had provided a lot of bean bag chairs to make it more comfortable to be a wallflower, so maybe she had listened to that too?

I clung to Rarity’s side for the first hour or so. But after a while she began talking to Twilight about a very troubling topic.

“So,” said Rarity, her voice cautious, “I see Spike isn’t here. How is the poor dear?”

Twilight rolled her eyes and groaned. “Grounded. I caught him searching through the ‘hexes and curses’ section of my private library. Luckily there’s nothing in there a dragon can use. At least, I don’t think he can. But I’ve told and told him not to go in there! There are dangerous books in that room! Dangerous books as in ones with teeth!”

Rarity’s eyes got wide. “Curses? Is he really that upset? He seemed to handle the incident with Trenderhoof well enough, so I thought he’d moved on.”

“Clearly he hasn’t.”

I felt the blood drain from my face. This raised a lot of questions I really didn’t want answered. I told Rarity I was going to go mingle, hit the refreshment table for a neighpoleon and a load of hushpuppies, and found a beanbag. Rainbow Dash was on me almost instantly.

“Hey! So. Great party, huh?” She sat down in a bean bag next to me, holding two bottles of cider. “I brought you a cider.”

“I don’t drink.”

“That’s okay. I can double-hoof.”

The yellow one slinked over behind her beanbag and hunched out of sight behind her, peeking out with a single eye. Was that what I looked like, following Rarity around like a lost puppy all week? I shuddered with self-contempt.

I made eye contact with the yellow one, and she ducked behind her hair. What the buck? We’d talked! She’d altered a dress for me! Not very well, but she tried very hard!

Rainbow took a swig from one of her bottles of cider. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“I gueth tho.” I narrowed my eyes at her. What was it going to be this time?

“Okay, so you’re, like, a rock scientist or something, right?”

“A geologist with a thpecialization in gem thcience.”

“But your cutie mark looks like three pieces of paper. What’s up with that?”

I slouched down in the beanbag and rolled my eyes. “I’m really good at filling out and correctly filing paperwork. It’s a thkill that tranthfers to a variety of fieldth.”

“But how do you know it’s what you’re really meant to do? I mean, what if there’s some specifically paperwork-based job that you’re really supposed to be doing instead?”

I hesitated. What if she was right? It was hardly the first time I’d worried about it. Getting your cutie mark was a pivotal event in any young pony’s life, but it’s not like the things come with a manual. It’d been a long eight years between the night I’d spent filling out refinance paperwork to save my parent’s farm and the day I got my master’s degree. I’d made a lot of decisions in between. Were they the right ones?

“Rainbow Dash, what’re you doin’ to that there poor filly?” Applejack had walked up behind me. I could remember her name from the newspapers. Why couldn’t I remember the yellow one’s name? F-something. Flustercry? Feather Fly? Frizzle Fry?

Rainbow pressed her bottles against her chest defensively. “I was just asking her a few questions. No big deal. I’m just trying to get to know her.”

Applejack frowned. “Yeah? Sounded to me like you were raggin’ on her cutie mark.”

Rainbow blew her forelock out of her eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“And how’d you feel if someone was questioning your cutie mark? Your cutie mark is a lightning bolt. Do you make lightning bolts?”

Rainbow snorted, looking offended. “No! It means I’m fast!”

“So don’t be so literal about hers. Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to comment on somepony else’s cutie mark?”

Rainbow blushed. “Yeah, yeah, I guess.”

“And how’d you like it if somepony you barely knew kept hanging around asking you a lot of annoying questions?” said Applejack.

“I’d notice something really interesting on the other side of the room. Bye.” And she was gone, leaving the yellow one’s eyes poking out from over the edge of the bean bag. Applejack sat down where Rainbow had been, hiding the eyes behind her again.

“Um, thankth,” I said.

Applejack laughed. “Don’t mind Rainbow. She’s a mite prickly at times, but she does mean well.”

“She’th been following me around asking me questionth like that all week! It’s getting on my nerveth.”

“She’s tryin’ to figure you out. Can’t blame her. All of us are, in our own way. We’re a pretty tight-knit group, what with all we’ve been through. And just between you, me, and the wallpaper, Rarity’s crazy about you.” She shifted around so that she could get at her saddlebags. “Mind if I light up?”

I blinked. I did! Smoking was a horrible habit! Good way to kill yourself! Unless she meant… “Um, okay, I gueth. You smoke?” Applejack! Of all ponies! I didn’t know what the law was in Ponyville — it was all over the place since Luna had gotten back. Jail time for possession in Trottingham, totally legal in Vanhoover. The rule in Canterlot was, it was safe to smoke at night, though sellers still had to be careful.

“We all gotta have somethin’,” she said, like she didn’t want to talk about it.

I watched as she pulled a joint and a lighter out of her saddlebag. She held the joint in her mouth, flicked the lighter, and inhaled as the far end of the joint turned red. “Want some?” she asked, holding the joint out to me. I nodded and took it.

The hot smoke filled my lungs. I held it for a while, then blew out. “Thankth.” I handed the joint back. I wasn’t a big stoner, but I had a couple of theatre pony friends who were, so I was hardly unfamiliar.

“You want any, Fluttershy?”

“Yes please.” A hoof rose up over the edge of the beanbag, and vanished behind it with the joint. It rose again several seconds later, along with a dainty puff of smoke.

I sank back down in my beanbag. Everything was starting to look strangely flat, like we were all cartoon characters. AJ’s weed was good. I let out a happy sigh.

“Sure takes the edge off, don’t it?” said Applejack.

The yellow one poked her head up over the edge of Applejack’s beanbag. “My therapist says I shouldn’t self medicate anxiety with drugs, but what does he know? It’s not like he’s a trained mental health professional or anything.”

I giggled. “Hi. I’m Frazzle.”

“I’m Fluttershy.”

That was it. Easy to remember. “Can I be, like, totally honest with you guyth?”

“Of course!” said Fluffysky.

Applejack just raised an eyebrow at me like I’d said the most stupid thing imaginable. Oh. Right! The element!

“Okay, tho, I am utterly and completely freaked the thweet heck out to be here.”

Fluffernutter nodded, here eyes full of sympathy. “I hate meeting new ponies. It’s horrible.”

I sat up straight. The room took a second to catch up. “You guyth have been friends for yearth, and had, like a million adventures together. It’s really thweet of you to have this party for me, but I don’t know if I’m going to get along with all of you.”

Applejack shrugged. “Reckon you don’t have to impress us. If you’re good to Rarity, we’ll be good to you.”

Flittercry had her forelegs up on Applejack’s bean bag by this time. “You seem nice. I like nice ponies.” Applejack handed her the joint, and she took another toke and passed it to me. Before long we were laughing and waving our hooves in each other’s faces.

After a while, Pinkie hopped up on a table in the middle of the room. “All right, fillies! It’s time for games! Rarity said spin the bottle was a bad idea, and I’m not allowed to be around sharp objects right now, so pin the tail on the donkey is out. Also Cranky told me that game is racist, which it kind of is if you think about it, so maybe I need to figure out something else to pin things to. So in the meantime everypony gather around in a circle. We’re doing Truth or Dare!” I squinted at Pinkie Pie. There was something about her. Then I gasped. Why hadn’t I seen it before? Her hair! It was wild. Unruly. Byzantine. Kinkier than Rarity. I had found… a hair sister.

“Oh, this is gonna be the great!” squealed Rainbow, flapping over and dragging Applejack out of her beanbag. Noticing my confused look, she explained, “Truth or Dare with a stoned Applejack is the best. You’ll see.”

———

“Okay, so, I heard Big Mac screamin’ and I ran upstairs, thinkin’ ‘Oh no, something’s happened to Apple Bloom!’ And I came through the door, and I saw Mac standin’ over the changing pad yelling like a bear in a trap, and so I rush up and grab him, and I said ‘Pull yourself together, colt!” And he looks me in the eye and he says, ‘Apple Bloom pooped on me!’ And I realize he’s covered in shit. And I look down at my hooves. And they’re covered in shit. And I hear Apple Boom behind me. Her diaper’s hangin’ off her hind hoof, and she’s dragging it around the floor, trailing shit behind her. And I start screamin’. And Big Mac starts screaming again. And Granny Smith comes rushing around the corner, and slips on Apple Bloom’s trail of shit, and slides right onto us. We all fall onto the changing pad, which is also covered in shit.” Applejack took a deep toke, and went on. “Took us two hours to get it all cleaned up.”

Pinkie Pie’s cheeks were bright green. “That… that was a great story, Applejack.”

“Thank you, Pinkie. ’Course, that ain’t half as disgusting as the time…”

Rarity placed a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “I think you have adequately answered the question, darling. Why don’t you ask now?”

Applejack nodded. “Rainbow. What’s the grossest thing you’ve ever had in your mouth?”

Rainbow snorted. “Hugh Jelly.”

They all laughed uproariously. I didn’t get it. I nudged Rarity. “What kind of jelly?”

Rarity kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll explain later, darling.” I was sitting next to Rarity, of course. Flakysly was leaning against Rainbow’s right side, and the Princess was leaning against her left, which was a bit shocking to me, but I suppose that it was their business. It could just be a friendly snuggle, and if it wasn’t… well, living in Canterlot gave one an open mind. I was a one-pony pony myself, though. Applejack was to the left of Rarity and me, and Pinkie was on the right.

“So Rarity,” said Rainbow, “Tell us about the best sex you’ve ever had.”

I looked at Rarity, irrational fear clutching my belly. If she said it was with me, would she give details? And what if she didn’t say it was me? I began to gnaw on the edge of my hoof. I knew I was being paranoid. Applejack’s little cigarettes weren’t helping with that.

Rarity just rolled her eyes. “Please, Rainbow. A lady never tells, and she certainly does not compare. I will take a dare.”

Rainbow grinned and pointed at the food table. “See that empty tub of raspberry ice cream?” We all looked. The inside was dripping with melting reddish purple goo. I blushed — I’d gotten the munchies something fierce in the first rounds of the game, and that ice cream had tasted so good smeared on the hush puppies. “Your dare,” continued Rainbow, “is to lick the inside of that tub clean.”

Applejack laughed. “Boy howdy, this is gonna be good!”

Rarity stood and magically pulled her hair into a ponytail. She turned and walked over to the table with the nobility of a martyr going to the gallows. She ducked her head and slid it into the bucket, which was only a little wider than her head. I stared, shocked. But when her head came out, the tub was clean. And so was her face. Her friends cheered. I clapped. Oh, my gosh, Rarity was such an amazing pony!

She sat down next to me again. “I do believe I have a little on my lips, Frazzle dear. Would you be so kind?” We shared a brief but passionate kiss. “Frazzle Rock,” she said, “what trait you like most about yourself?”

I gulped. While we played, I’d been racking my brain for stories. Canterlot was certainly an interesting place, and I had a selection picked out. From relatively innocent to downright salacious, I was ready for any question. Except this one. I sat there with my mouth working soundlessly. I had to think of something. I could not afford to look like an idiot in front of Rarity’s friends.

“Um… I… uh… I like that I’m thmart. I gueth?” It was pushing it. I was a damn silly pony, but there was no denying I was booksmart as buck.

Rarity’s friends nodded. This seemed to satisfy them, thank Faust. Now it was my turn to ask. I’d been so worried about answering questions that I hadn’t really thought about what I would ask once it was my turn. Rainbow had said it was fun to ask Applejack questions when she was stoned. I’d try her. “Tho… uh, Applejack. What have you done that you’re most ashamed of?”

The room was silent. They stared at me, then at each other. They’d forgotten to brief me on something important. Damn them! Applejack hung her head and sighed. “It was the Apple family reunion of ’98. We’d all been hitting the apple brandy pretty hard, and Mac, Braeburn, and I mggggrppphhh”

Rarity had fully stuffed her left forehoof into Applejack’s mouth. “So, I think we can all agree this game’s getting a trifle tedious. Charades, maybe?”

———

I woke up alone in Rarity’s bed an hour before my train was supposed to leave. Luckily I’d packed before the party yesterday, so all I had to do was freshen up, grab my suitcase, and head downstairs. My cycle had begun to abate, so the ride back would be more comfortable than the ride in. Rarity was downstairs, working on a dress. It took us forever to say goodbye — there were kisses, hugs, tears, more kisses, and more hugs. We would miss each other terribly. I had already bought my train tickets to come back next weekend. Yes, I would send her a telegram. Yes, I would miss her.

I stepped out her front door with fifteen minutes to make my train. Just enough. I bumped right into the uncrowned king of Canterlot night life.

“I do beg your pardon, Madam! Terribly sorry,” said Fancy Pants.

“Oh, no. My fault. Thould have been watching where I was going.” I dragged my suitcase around his massive bulk.

“Please, don’t give it another thought. Tell me, young lady, is Miss Rarity at home?”

“Yeth! She’s inthide!” I took off at a trot. I didn’t really want to talk to him. Rarity spoke highly of him, but I had my doubts. His homosexual exploits were legendary in a city that was not easily impressed by debauchery, but he still kept a beard — the lovely Fleur Dis Lee — to give himself an air of fashionable bisexuality. I understood the impulse. I’d gotten more than a few pitying looks when ponies learned that I was only interested in mares. “Monosexual”, they’d say, and shake their heads. But his dishonesty irked me. I could be myself. Why couldn’t he?

I thought of the horror stories Rarity had told me about the backstabbing and dirty dealings she’d seen in the world of high society, and I started to worry. For all her reassurances, I still doubted Rarity’s motives. I gradually slowed from a trot to a walk, to a dead stop. What were she and Fancy Pants talking about?

Eavesdropping was a terrible thing to do. Nothing good ever came of it. I would not spy on my new marefriend. I would not.

I would not.

I left my suitcase abandoned on the Ponyville green, and was crouched underneath one of the Carousel Boutique’s windows seconds later.

Fancy Pants was talking. “Excellent! Then I shall eagerly await your submission.”

“So, that’s business out of the way,” said Rarity, “How have you been, darling?”

“I’ve been well. And you’ve been better then well, if the rumors are to be believed. Finally sampling the Sapphic pleasures, I hear?”

Rarity laughed. “It’s hardly the first time, dear.”

“But never with such conviction!”

I heard the sound of Rarity’s sewing machine starting up. “Frankly I’ve found the choice of gentlecolts available in polite society severely lacking. If I can’t find the stallion of my dreams, I may as well have a go at being him.”

“And robbing the cradle as well! You certainly are full of surprises lately,” said Fancy Pants.

“You have no idea. Anyhow, she’s not as young as she looks. She’s CGS, and they won’t even let you in the door without a master’s degree. Anyhow, what’s half a decade or so between friends?”

“Well, it certainly is intriguing to find a promising young person to mold and guide into adulthood.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you, darling?”

“I suppose I would, at that.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t take this the wrong way — I mean it by way of friendly warning, not criticism — but you certainly can’t bring her out in public as she is. Good lord, did you see what she was wearing this morning?”

“Fancy Pants! I do respect your opinion, but I will do as I please. I find her lovely. Of course, a certain amount of work will have to be done to unlock her true potential. But I have assured her that I love her as she is.”

“A noble sentiment. A noble sentiment indeed. Well. I do have another appointment soon, but I will be in Ponyville for the remainder of the day. Are you free for tea?”

I didn’t wait for Rarity to reply. I bolted back to my suitcase — one can leave valuables unattended for any amount of time in Ponyville — and made my train with seconds to spare. I found my seat, and stared out the window as the train pulled out of the station. My brain kept drifting back to all the wrong parts of the conversation I’d overheard. I should be happy. Rarity had defended me. Sort of. The statement “Of course, a certain amount of work will have to be done to unlock her true potential” and the statement “I love her as she is” were incongruent. What was missing in the equation?

My thoughts windmilled uselessly. I’d had a wonderful time in Ponyville. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. It was hard to believe it was real. Her Ponyville friends seemed to believe that she loved me, and they seemed incapable of guile, or least coordinated guile as a group. But could they be deceived? And if Fancy Pants was one of the ‘good’ ones amongst her fashion world contacts, what would the bad ones be like? And how much influence did they have on Rarity?

Cross ties whizzed past under the train, and with every passing one, my adventure in Ponyville seemed less plausible. Rarity was known in Canterlot society. I wasn’t, but if I dug enough, I might be able to find out what she was really like. Maud knew her. I suppose that was a place to start.

My plan brought me no comfort. I brooded over it, thinking the same thoughts over and over, until I fell asleep with my face pressed against the window glass.

The Eye of the Tiger

Maud and I share a basement office at CGS headquarters in Canterlot. The easiest way to get there is to take the cargo elevator behind the cafeteria and go through the laundry room. If I take the north stairwell, I have to go through the machine shop, which is loud and full of big, grumpy ponies and dangerous machines. The south stairwell has been out of service and partly flooded since the ’98 earthquake. Anyway, if you go through the laundry room, you have to prop the back door, because it locks from inside, and if you let it close you’ll have to go back out through the machine shop.

I found Maud at her desk. She was literally hip-deep in paperwork. “Frazzle,” she said, looking up, “I’m so glad you’re back.” She smiled ever so slightly. I grinned. She really had missed me! It was rare to see her so effusive. I sat in my rolly chair and slid over to sit next to her. Boulder was sitting on top of one of the piles of paper. I gave him a pat.

“Anything interethting happen while I wath gone?” Sitting next to Maud gave me the same fluttery feeling in my chest that it always has. That was a surprise. I hadn’t thought about her all week. I’d expected that Rarity would have driven her out my heart. After all, Rarity was much prettier than Maud, wasn’t she?

“We assisted on a 238B.”

“Counterfeit marble?”

“Yeah. You could take the veins off with a toothbrush. I was there on the collar. Voices were raised. It was pretty intense.”

I shook my head. “There’s tho much evil in the world.”

“Other than that, it was pretty normal.” She glanced at me and lowered her eyelids slightly. “How was your… break?”

I blushed. Maud could be so naughty. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

She pointed up at the poster over her desk — a chart of crypto-geological rock types with ‘I WANT TO BELIEVE’ printed on it in blocky sans-serif letters. “Try me.”

“I’m… I’m in a relationship now.”

“My credulity has not yet been challenged.”

I leaned forward, resting a hoof on Boulder to keep him from getting over-excited. “With Rarity.”

Maud blinked. “Rarity Belle?”

I nodded.

“The fashion pony?”

I nodded.

“Pinkie’s friend?”

I nodded.

“Whoa.”

“I know, right?”

“I’m really happy for you.” She leaned over to hug me. The tower of paperwork Boulder was sitting on fell over.

“Boulder. I told you to be more careful.”

I got up and began picking up the papers. “You want help with these?”

Maud had somehow picked Boulder off the floor and put him in her lap. I hadn’t even noticed her getting out of her chair. “I guess I could use a little help.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon in paperwork mode. Most ponies hated paperwork. I myself couldn’t say I loved it, but I understood it. Most ponies looked at a pile of forms and just saw one huge, undifferentiated mass of confusion and trouble. I knew how to break it down. Categorize. Organize. Perform like tasks together. If I needed names and identification numbers for four ponies on five different forms, I did them all at once and put them in a pile. If I didn’t know something, I put it in a pile with other things I don’t know and looked it up later. By the time my weekly one-on-one with my supervisor rolled around, I’d filled out, had Maud notarize, and filed probably about seventy-five percent of what was on her desk when I came in. I told Maud I’d be back soon, scooped up the guilt present I’d gotten my boss, and headed upstairs.

Someone had closed the door to the laundry room. I sighed, put in my ear plugs, and headed for the machine shop.

———

CGS Director Halloween Jack’s office was on the thirtieth floor. He was a Canterlot-born diamond dog and a decorated veteran of the EUP Corps of Engineers. He’s the one with the hare lip I alluded to earlier, but I really didn’t do him justice with that remark. Sure, he has a big scar under his nose from the surgery he had as a pup to correct his facial deformity. But he cuts quite a figure in his necktie and wire-frame glasses, neatly pressed shirt sleeves rolled up over melon-sized biceps, all stern and can-do and capable. He reminds me of my daddy.

“Agent Rock,” he said, and nodded at the chair in front of his desk. “I’m impressed with your work in Ponyville.”

I placed the bento box on his desk and sat down. “Thorry about the thort notice on my leave. My cycle took me by thurprise.”

Halloween Jack pulled the box over to himself and lifted it open, smiling slightly and raising an eyebrow at the crystalized fish heads inside. “You’re entitled to your estrus leave, Agent Rock,” he said, opening a desk drawer and putting the box carefully inside. “And to a great deal of vacation time that you never take.”

“I’m dedicated to my work, thir.”

“I’d noticed. You’re just a pony, though. You need to rest occasionally.”

“I’ll take it under advisement, thir,” I said, not meaning it.

“The research division is delighted that you’ve secured the Princess’s permission to dig in the Everfree. And Rarity Belle’s mineral-finding abilities will be invaluable.”

I took a deep breath. “Full dithclothure, thir.”

Director Jack raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve… developed a… thpecial relationship with Rarity.”

“Congratulations. She’s a very attractive mare.”

“But if I were to wind up working with her in the field…”

Director Jack shook his head. “She’s a volunteer, not an employee of the CGS. I’d probably avoid placing you together, just to keep you from getting distracted, but if it were unavoidable, there’d be no conflict of interest.”

I nodded, satisfied. I hadn’t expected him to say anything different. But there was another reason I’d brought the issue up. “I athume that when you were considering approaching her, you requested a background check.”

Jack raised an eyebrow again.

“I know, it’s confidential, and I know you wouldn’t tell me even if I asked, but…”

“She keeps her nose clean, which is quite an accomplishment, considering the company she keeps.”

I didn’t know if he meant the Element Bearers, or her fashion friends. Probably both.

“If you’re worried about her having dark secrets, all I can tell you is that if she has any, she’s pretty good at hiding them.”

———

After work, Maud talked me into going down to Buckowski’s. I don’t drink, but there are a lot of things I like about the place. First off, the bar nuts are, like, half cashews, and really salty. It’s amazing. Second, everybody there wears chunky glasses and vintage clothes, so I blend right in without meaning to. If you’re consistent about your personal style no matter what, eventually you’re going to find yourself in a context where that style is in. Anyway, the music’s pretty good, too, and usually so loud that you have to shout right into the ear of anypony you want to talk to. So if you don’t want to talk to somepony, you can just pretend to not hear them.

Buckowski’s is a tiny, dark, and very popular little bar. The décor is strictly bare brick, exposed support beams, and photographs of dead writers. Maud and I couldn’t find a seat, so we stood in the middle of the floor, her with her whiskey sour, and me with my cola. Next to us some ponies with bushy beards — most of them, but not all of them, stallions — were having some sort of discussion about the horrors of Celestia’s expansionist foreign policy. On our other side, two mares dressed like librarians were playing subculture chicken, seeing who could list off the most things they were so totally over without hitting any sacred cows. I tried to focus on the band. They were quieter than was normal for this place — a bunch of rangy, mopey-looking stallions just sort of standing around with their instruments looking lost but busting out some seriously mellow tunes.

I leaned over and yelled into Maud’s ear. “Thih band ith pretty good. Who are they?”

Maud leaned over to yell back at me. One of the other things I liked about going to to this place was having Maud’s nose in my ear all the time. “Band of Horses!”

I narrowed my eyes, confused. She must not have heard me right. “Obviousthly. But what are they called?”

Maud laughed — a single quiet noise that might’ve been mistaken for a cough by someone who didn’t know her. “Do you know what I like about you, Frazzle?”

I blinked. “What?”

“You so totally don’t care how uncool you are.” Then she put her head on my shoulder. I did not know how to respond. Luckily, our theatre pony friends Breka Legg and Light Bright arrived about then.

“Dearest friends!” Breka raised her hooves in the air as she shouldered her way through the crowd, lavender eyes dancing. “I am excellent today, thank you for asking! How are you?”

“Ecstatic,” shouted Maud dryly.

“Confused,” I shouted.

“And so it should always be. Light Bright, be a darling and see if you can look pathetic enough that the bartender will give us drinks for free.” Breka was a little green earth pony mare, but she could fill a room with her presence.

Light Bright sighed. He was one of the big white unicorn stallions you see all over the place in Canterlot, an eternal genetic reminder of Celestia’s reckless youth and prodigious, if long-neglected, foal-bearing capacity. “That never works, Breka. It’s never going to work.”

“Never is a long time, liebchen. We just have to keep trying.”

Maud fished a twenty-bit coin out of her saddle bags, “Here, take this. Get me another whiskey sour while you’re at it.”

Breka snorted indignantly. “We do not need your charity, fräuline Pie.”

“Yes. Yes we do,” shouted Light Bright, levitating the bit out of Maud’s hoof. “You want anything, Fraz?”

I shook my head, and held up my still mostly full glass of cola. “No, thankth.”

Breka watched Light Bright walk over to the bar, then turned back to us. “Light and I are like an old married couple,” she yelled, apropos of nothing. “We adore one another, we bicker constantly, and we hardly ever had sex.”

I snorted. Light Bright was gayer than a room full of earth pony party planners, and Breka might or might not be one of the older lesbian mares I mentioned earlier. I’m not saying. They might well have sex from time to time — this was Canterlot, after all — but they probably didn’t enjoy it much.

“So,” yelled Breka, “are the rumors true?”

I nearly gagged trying not to spit-take. “What… what rumorth?”

Breka stepped up to me, a coy grin on her face. “Rarity is said to have taken a new lover — a rather surprising choice, it’s said. You were not mentioned by name, but the description was unmistakeable.”

I nodded. I suppose I’d have to get used to this.

Breka hugged me, and kissed me on both cheeks. Then she looked me straight in the eyes. “Remember the things that I taught you, and she will be the happiest mare on Equus.”

I choked down the rest of my soda, and pointed a hoof at the back of the bar. “Um, I have to go to the little fillies’ room.”

When I had gotten over my embarrassment enough to sneak back I found Maud, Breka and Light were involved in a debate about about obscure rock, and whether suevite had sold out or not. I, for one, did not care. I glanced over at the bar, and I saw a pony I recognized. She was dressed in a gingham dress and a pair of glasses I knew she didn’t need. But the ginger mane, the blue coat, and the tiny saddle — that last not a common accessory in this place — were very recognizable. It was Sassy Saddles, Rarity’s Canterlot store manager.

I excused myself from my friends’ company, and squirmed and shouldered my way over to Sassy. Against all probability, there was an empty stool next to her. I sat down. I took a deep breath. Sassy had ignored me so far. I could just get another soda and move on. I didn’t need to know anything about Rarity. I didn’t need to know if my new marefriend was for real. I should trust her.

“Excuthe me,” I shouted at Sassy. “Can I buy you a drink?”

She raised an eyebrow without really looking at me. “I’m flattered by the offer, but you’re not my type.”

I blushed. “Um… That wathn’t what I meant. I wanted to talk to you about Rarity.”

Her eyes popped wide open. “Well, bust my buttons! It can’t be!” She narrowed her eyes, clearly struggling for a poker face. “You really are as… unique… as ponies are saying.”

“Are they really talking about us?” I couldn’t believe Rarity was that important. Or her fashion friends that petty, whichever.

“The only thing worse than being talked about is not being talked about, am I right?” She fluttered her eyelashes at me. I frowned. For once, I was immune to a beautiful mare’s charms.

My tummy rumbled. I pulled over a bowl of bar nuts. “Tho… what ith it like, working for Rarity?”

Sassy rolled her eyes. “Oh my Faust, she is such a micromanager. I don’t know why she thinks she needs to make every dress herself. That’s what Mexicolt is for! I also don’t know why she’d hire a pony with incredible marketing skills and then ignore everything she says.” She knocked back a shot of something clear. “Now what was that you were saying about buying me a drink?”

I flagged down the bartender, and ordered Sassy another shot of her ridiculously expensive vodka, as well as another soda for myself. Fifteen bits. Fifteen bits for that tiny little drink! How did ponies who drank afford this kind of thing? Though it would have been a lot cheaper if I hadn’t tipped the bartender 35% just because she had a big plot. I didn’t have my heat as an excuse any more. My estrus was over, and I was just an ordinary pervert again.

“I do have to admit,” yelled Sassy, “that she pays very well. And the benefits are excellent.”

I nodded. What was I even hoping to find out? I felt like I was trying to sabotage my relationship with Rarity. Did I really think I didn’t deserve her? It wasn’t like she was perfect. Except that she was. Oh, Rarity! I missed her so much, already. Her voice, her eyes, her clothes, her gentle but commanding tone. Maybe if I left right after work, I could sleep on the train, and grab a few hours with her tomorrow night?

“Is it true that you work for the CGS?”

I blinked. “Yeth. Yeth, I do.”

Sassy smiled a smile that didn’t touch her eyes. “Interesting. In what capacity?” She was clearly just making small talk, at this point.

“I’m a field agent. We do thite evaluation, emergency rethponth, assisting law enforcement with rock-related crimeth, thtuff like that.” We also served as gophers. Or sherpas, if needed.

Sassy seemed to stiffen a little. She threw back her shot. “Well. Rarity certainly has quite a sense of humor.”

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. Wait, what was this? I laughed nervously. “Ha ha. Yeth, she is pretty funny.”

“I mean, you can’t imagine she’s really interested in you. What do you think she likes about you? Your buck teeth? Your frizzy hair? It can’t be your body — if your plot were any flatter, you could play pool on it. What is that old nag thinking?”

I stared at her in shock. The fangs had come out pretty suddenly. Comeback. I needed a comeback line. Who was she to talk about flat plots? Out loud. I needed to say that out loud, but my mouth wouldn’t work.

“The sagging old nag must need somepony young to stand next to her to make her look better. What is she? Twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? She’s getting too old for a mare in this business, and she knows it.”

The bartender slid my cola over to me. I stopped it with my hoof. “You can thay what you want about me, but you do not talk about Rarity that way!” And I threw my drink in her face.

Sassy leapt up from her barstool, dripping wet, yowling like she’d found a rat in her bed. I wanted to jump on her, kick her, tear at her mane, but… there was, laughter, clapping and cheering all around me. What was happening?

“Oh, I love your new look!” sneered a mare in a truck stop logo T-shirt.

“Yeah, what is that fragrance, eau de caffeine?” said a bushy-faced stallion in a plaid lumberjack’s shirt.

The band had stopped playing.

“Yo, what just happened?” asked the bassist.

“Some mare just threw a drink in Sassy Saddles’ face,” replied the guitarist.

“Dude, go her!” said the drummer. “Is this really the first time someone’s done that to Sassy?”

“She had it coming,” said the ukulele player.

“Maybe that posing poser will go pose somewhere else now,” said the keyboard player.

“Okay, brave vigilante. This song goes out to you.” He launched off into a power ballad about feline optometry. The crowd went wild. Sassy Saddles fled, her cheeks wet with more than just my drink. Hooves were slapping my back. Shots were being pressed into my hooves. It seemed rude to refuse, so I drank them. Two or three, and the room was spinning. I found myself standing on the lumberjack’s back, being paraded around the room as everypony sang along.

During the final chorus, I threw up on the lumberjack’s mane. It muted the mood a little. But only a little. Strong hooves carried me down, and Light and Maud’s faces leaned in.

“Frazzle. You look a little green. Are you all right?” said Maud.

I couldn’t reply for fear of throwing up again. If I looked like I felt, I was greener than Breka. Maud led me to the bathroom, took off my glasses, and held my mane back while I kneeled in front of the toilet.

My puke tasted like bar nuts and cheap whiskey. I started to cry.

“You seem a little upset.” Way to go, Maud, hitting the nail on the head again.

“Ra… Rarity’s friendth think I’m patheti-i-i-c!” I whined.

Maud raised an eyebrow. “You’re starting to sound like her.”

I turned my head towards Maud and stuck out my tongue. The room didn’t stop spinning when my head stopped moving. I gagged, and hurled in the toilet again.

“Why were they thinging?”

“Ponies know you, here. Frazzle. They like you. They also know Sassy. She’s only been coming here since Trenderhoof wrote it up in Chowhound so she can name drop the place and sound edgy. Also she’s kind of a bitch.”

I threw up again.

———

Maud, Breka, and Light Bright walked me to Maud’s place and left me in her care. Maud herded me up the stairs and into her postage stamp studio apartment. Canterlot real estate was extremely expensive, and Maud was lucky to have a place by herself, even if it was a single room with a shared bathroom down the hall. The building was very old and nothing was exactly straight. Normally I didn’t notice, but in my current state it gave me vertigo. I closed my eyes and let Maud install me on her couch.

She gave me a couple glasses of coppery-tasting tap water, and a bit of candied ginger root to chew on. The ginger burned my mouth, but it tasted good and calmed my belly a little. I lay on the couch quietly while she got an extra blanket and pillow.

“You can sleep on my bed. I’ll take the couch,” said Maud, plopping the pile of bedding down on the armrest.

I looked at her in the moonlight. Her short gray fur glowed. Her aqua eyes were so full of concern for me. Or maybe she was just tired; it was hard to tell with Maud. I felt feelings. Hot, naughty, cheating feelings. The drinks I’d had told me that those feelings were totally okay, and that I should share them with Maud. “We could thare your bed,” I whispered, doing my best to sound seductive. It came out sounding hoarse.

Maud raised an eyebrow. “Frazzle, you’re drunk.”

I set down my water and pushed myself up. I leaned over. I pushed my lips against Maud’s, and felt a thrill pass down my spine to explode into a shower of delicious, squirmy feelings at the base of my tail. I felt her lips begin to part. I opened my lips, and stuck out my tongue, slurping Maud across the lips.

I really needed to work on my kissing technique.

Maud pushed me away. “You smell like a hobo died in your mouth. Also you’re still drunk.” She picked up the blanket and draped it over me. “On second thought, you can take the couch. Honestly, it’s more comfortable than my bed.” She patted me on the chest through the blankets. “Get some sleep.”

“But… but…”

“Sleep.”

She got her toiletry bag and went out into the hall. I lay back and thought about everything that had gone wrong that evening, and what a rotten pony I was for trying to kiss Maud. I didn’t get very far before my eyes felt heavy. I closed them.

The next thing I knew, Maud was shaking me awake. The sky out of her window was purple with dawn. I threw a foreleg over my face.

“We’ve got to get ready for work, Frazzle,” said Maud.

“Nooo,” I groaned. But she was right. It would look really bad if I called in sick a day after coming back from a last minute vacation. I opened my eyes and sat up.

“If you want a shower, you’d better hurry up before everyone else on this floor wakes up.”

When I got back, I saw that Maud had been busy. She didn’t seem to own a table, but she’d set a simple breakfast of oatmeal, oven-cooked frozen hay fritters, instant coffee and prairie oysters on a tablecloth on the hardwood floor.

“Have as many hay cakes as you want,” said Maud, sitting down and pulling over her prairie oyster. “I made the whole box.”

I sat up down on the far side of the tablecloth from her. My tongue kept sticking to the roof of my mouth. It felt like someone had driven a railroad spike through my left temple. “Maud, about latht night…”

Maud blinked. “Nothing happened last night.” She sipped her prairie oyster like it was a cup of tea.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What?”

“I brought you back here, put you on the couch and you fell right asleep,” said Maud. “You certainly didn’t blow puke breath in my face and lick my mouth in what I can only assume was meant to be a sexually provocative manner. If you have any memories like that, then they must be fake.” She took another sip of her prairie oyster. “Fake memories happen all the time.”

I smiled, relieved. “Right. It never happened.”

“What never happened?”

After I’d eaten two bowls of oatmeal, all of the hay cakes, three cups of Maud’s terrible coffee, and had two prairie oysters and six aspirin, I felt like I was ready to face the day. Maud and I took the funicular up to work together, reading side by side in relative silence. Which wasn’t unusual; neither of us are big talkers. Everything was fine until I came back from a meeting around mid-morning to find a telegram on my desk. It was from… Rainbow Dash? I tore it open.

RARITY ON WARPATH. TOOK 8:45 TRAIN TO CANTERLOT. PINKIE SAYS IT’S ABOUT YOU. BE READY. — LT. R. D. DASH, WONDERBOLTS RESERVE

P.S. PROBABLY NOT YOUR FAULT. YOU KNOW HOW SHE GETS. PLEASE WORK THIS OUT. RARITY MUCH LESS ANNOYING WHEN GETTING LAID REGULARLY.

“Oh, buck me.” My headache came back instantly, with a couple of extra spikes. I pushed up my glasses, and rubbed my hoof between my eyes. Whatever this was, I knew it was going to be bad.

Absolutely Fabulous

“Sassy Saddles says you assaulted her!”

It was mid-afternoon. We were in the Queequeg’s outside CGS headquarters. Rarity was quivering with barely repressed rage. She was also wearing a headscarf, sunglasses, a wide-brimmed hat, and a light summer dress that that made her look like the most perfect pony I'd ever seen even as she fixed me with a death glare. If she was trying to conceal her identity, it really wasn’t working.

“I didn’t!” I clutched my cup of tea. My stomach was too knotted up to drink. Or eat. I was so upset I wasn’t even hungry. “I did throw a drink in her face. But only when she thtarted thaying bad things about you!”

Rarity poured a packet of sugar into her coffee. Then she reached for another. There was a growing mountain of empty sugar packets around her coffee cup. “Well, it’s your word against hers, isn’t it? Sassy hasn’t decided if she’s going to press charges.”

Maud sighed. “There’s an entire bar full of ponies who can back up Frazzle’s version of the story, Rarity.”

Rarity paused in mid-packet tear. “Well. I only have Sassy’s version of events. And that via telegram. Frazzle, darling, if you don’t mind?”

So I told her what had happened, as best as I could remember. As I talked, Rarity began to empty sugar packets at an accelerated rate. She soon ran out of regular sugar, and moved on to the pink and yellow packets. By the time I got to the end of my story, she was literally shaking with rage.

“Oh, so I’m a sagging old nag, am I? Why that lying, two-faced, insubordinate cunt! I will skin her alive and use her hide to make diapers!” Rarity slammed her hoof on the table. Coffee and tea splashed from our cups. Ponies all over the café turned to stare at us. Mothers covered their foals’ ears.

I squirmed, embarrassed by her display. Maud raised an eyebrow. Rarity took a deep breath. “Well. Thank you for defending me, Frazzle darling. I didn’t realize you felt so strongly.”

She didn’t? The knots in my stomach tightened.

“If I could interject,” said Maud.

“Of course, Maud darling,” said Rarity. I nodded.

“Frazzle, you said Sassy became abusive after you confirmed you worked for the CGS?”

I nodded. She had, hadn’t she?

“That’s strange, isn’t it?” said Maud. “Stress triggers a fight-or-flight response. Do you think there’s something Sassy might want to hide? Something a geologist would be particularly likely to notice?”

Rarity shook her head. “Why, no. No. Nothing I can think of.”

Oh dear. There were a number of rocks and minerals that were illegal for various reasons, or so heavily taxed that it would be be worthwhile to smuggle them.

“Do you receive large shipments of gems at your boutique?” said Maud. I don’t know if Rarity could tell — Maud’s tone of voice was nearly unchanged — but I could tell from the way she leaned forward ever so slightly that Agent Pie’s blood was up.

Rarity nodded. “I often need them for my work. It depends on the client, of course, but I do rather like doing the sparkly ones. I can use thousands in a single dress, if the design calls for it.” She levitated her coffee to her mouth and took a sip, then cringed, and demurely set it aside.

“And do you ever use your gem-finding ability at your boutique?”

“Well, no! Why would I? Sassy separates and organizes all the gems in my workshop for me.”

I looked at Maud. She looked at me. I took a deep breath. We had to be delicate about this. Delicacy wasn’t really my strong suit, but I was better at it than Maud was. “If you should happen to, and you find anything upsetting, please let us know. We can guarantee you won’t get in trouble for anything Sassy’s done, if you come to us right away.”

Rarity nodded. “Is it all right if I leave it for another day? I do not think I can face Sassy in my current state of mind.”

“Yes,” said Maud. “Don’t go poking around while she’s working, and don’t do anything to suggest to her that you’re suspicious of her. Sassy’s probably harmless, but if she’s doing anything shady the ponies she’s working with won’t be. Come find us immediately.”

“Should we tell Jack?” I asked.

Maud shook her head. “Not until we have something solid. Right now it’s just my hunch. And I’m not feeling well-disposed towards Sassy Saddles.” She took a sip of her coffee. “I’m probably biased.”

Rarity nodded. “Maud, could I have a word with Frazzle in private?”

“Of course.”

We were both silent after a while. My stomach twisted. I felt like crying. And like going to the bathroom. And like throwing up. Rarity removed her sunglasses. She put her hooves over mine. “Frazzle. I am so sorry I doubted you.”

I hung my head. Guilt roiled in my gut. I didn’t know if I should tell her about my trying to kiss Maud or not. It would upset her if I did, but if I didn’t and she somehow found out, it would be so much worse. “It’th okay. I mean, you’ve worked with Sassy for a while, haven’t you?”

Rarity rolled her eyes. “Less than a year. And I have had a number of problems with her in that time. I’m tempted to dismiss her summarily.”

“Pleathe don’t.” I didn’t say why — I mean, partly it was because even though Sassy had been awful to me, I understood that everypony makes mistakes, and maybe she deserved another chance. But partly because if it Maud’s hunch was right and she was involved in something illegal, I wanted to help catch her. Not only her, but whatever ponies she was working with! I wanted the glory, and the win on my record.

I’m not a good pony sometimes.

Rarity tossed her head. “Tempers need to cool, certainly. I shall take the rest of the day as a spa day. And tonight! Frazzle, my old friend Toola Roola is having an art opening. I had told her I could not attend, but since I happen to be in town I’m considering dropping by. Would you like to accompany me?”

I blinked. “Toola Roola? You know her? Yeth, I love her work!” Whoa. Rein it in Frazzle. No need to sound desperate.

We agreed to meet at the gallery at seven. Outside the café, we kissed before we parted ways. It was a hot, wet, lingering kiss. Whatever else was going wrong, the physical aspect of our relationship was still in full flower. Or possibly only beginning to heat up. I walked back to work weak in the back knees, but my stomach was still in knots.

———

Rarity was late. I was left standing outside the gallery like a fool. But I had come prepared. I had stopped at Breka and Light Bright’s place on the way over and sweet-talked them out a couple of joints of Ahuizotl Black on the way over. I had smoked one on the walk down, and the other was waiting for me in the saddlebag if I needed it. It had rained a little in the late afternoon, and I was transfixed by the reflections of the street lights on the asphalt. Everything had that flat, paper-cutout quality again. Passersby seemed to have only a handful of body types amongst them, as though they’d been cut from the same pattern in different colored paper.

Rarity’s fashion-consciousness had rubbed off on me a little — rather than my usual sweater vest and button-down, I’d chosen a jacket with elbow pads and a bow tie. I had no idea if I looked better or worse than usual, but iI thought it would be amusing to play butch bottom to Rarity’s ultra-femmy top.

“Do you have a light?” The tall brown unicorn stallion’s voice was deep, silky, and effeminate. He had sweet eyes, and a little fluff of beard on his chin. I instantly liked him, even though he was balancing a tobacco cigarette on the edge of his hoof.

“Yeth. Yeth, I do. But you thouldn’t thmoke those. They’ll kill you.”

He rolled his eyes. “They’ll have to get in line. Do you have a light or not?”

I passed him my lighter. “Are you here for the thow?”

He nodded “I’m writing it up for Big Dada.” He held out a hoof. “I’m Trenderhoof. You might’ve heard of me.”

We touched hooves briefly. “I’m Frazzle. Good to finally put a fathe to the byline.” And to all of Rarity’s stories.

His cigarette almost fell out of his mouth. “Frazzle? Rarity’s friend Frazzle?”

I nodded, and giggled. “My name theems to be getting around.” I so did not give a buck about any of it right now.

Trenderhoof sighed. “You’ve certainly ruffled some feathers.”

I laughed. “Am I really that horrifically uncool?” I didn’t care. I was higher than Cloudsdale.

Trenderhoof laughed. A friendly laugh, not a mocking one. “Well, Rarity’s crowd don’t call things ‘cool’ or ‘uncool’, so yeah.”

I snorted. The whole situation seemed hilarious. “How am I tho important?”

Trenderhoof took a long drag from his cigarette. “You’re not. Rarity is.”

I squinted at Trenderhoof. That made absolutely no sense. I started laughing, and couldn’t stop. Fashion ponies were silly.

“Rarity!” said Trenderhoof. “So good to see you!”

I gulped, trying to hold in my laughter. I stood at what I hoped was perfect attention. I was sure it was the city that was swaying slightly, and not me. Trenderhoof and Rarity hugged briefly. I ducked in under him. I wanted a good look at what she was wearing. Oh. My. Faust. Rings of ruffles. Silver shoes. Elaborate silver eye makeup, even for her. She looked like a princess from another planet.

“Sorry I’m late. I simply could not get a cab.”

She let out a strangled gasp as I wrapped my forelegs around her. “I love you,” I said, “I love you tho much!”

“I… love you too, dear,” said Rarity, rearing back a little. She whispered in my ear, “Darling, are you feeling quite all right?”

I smirked at her. “I am unbelievably high right now. You want some?”

Rarity delicately disengaged herself from me. “We will see how the evening progresses. I like the look, by the way.”

I grinned and pronked in place. “Yay!”

“So. We may as well get it out of the way,” said Trenderhoof.

Rarity reached up and patted his cheek. “She hasn’t changed her mind. I’m so sorry.”

Trenderhoof shrugged. “That’s what I was expecting.”

“She wants somepony who’ll stay down on the farm, not somepony who’s always racing off around the world in search of adventure and new restaurants to review,” said Rarity. “So, what’s the mood like inside?”

Trenderhoof shrugged. “They don’t know you’re coming.”

Rarity took my hoof and smiled at me. “Shall we?” She didn’t show it, but I could smell the anxiety on her. We stepped into the gallery, and it was like an icy wave spread out around us. Conversations stopped. Heads turned, and then looked away. There were loud whispers, generally along the lines of “Is that her? Oh, she’s worse than I imagined.” I felt Rarity tremble. She squeezed my hoof and let go. The crowds in the gallery opened up around us as we walked forward.

“Royal Pin,” said Rarity, inclining her head. “I do say, I enjoyed…” She trailed off as he slipped by her without making eye contact. She bit her lower lip, and turned to a pair of unicorns in pastel clothes. “Jet Set. Upper Crust. It’s been….” They turned away from her in perfect unison. Her lower eyelid twitched.

Meanwhile, I was having some problems of my own. I hadn’t eaten in over an hour, and I was developing a chronic case of the munchies. There were ponies in tuxedo coats and cocktail dresses circulating with trays of hors d’oeuvres. I selected one whose tray smelled of pungent cheese and flaky crust, but he took one look at me and darted into the crowd like a rabbit who’d seen a fox. I swore internally and turned back to Rarity. She was talking to Fancy Pants. Oh, good. Not everypony was ostracizing her.

“…nothing I can do about it. Certainly not after the way she treated Sassy Saddles,” said Fancy Pants icily. The bottom dropped out of my stomach. It might’ve just been the pot, but Rarity, outwardly poised and calm, seemed to be vibrating on a subatomic level.

“There is considerable reason to doubt Sassy’s version of events,” said Rarity, her voice seething with restrained rage.

“So you say,” said Fancy Pants. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t think it politic to be seen talking to you any longer.”

“Naturally.” said Rarity.

I glared at Fancy’s plot as he walked away. “What crawled up his ath and died?” I whispered.

“Rarity, have you been a naughty filly?” I jumped, and spun around in place. At about 125° I saw a pale pink earth pony with a paintbrush cutie mark and a pastel rainbow mane in a shaggy ragdoll cut. She wore a flowing pink shawl over her withers.

“Toola,” said Rarity. “If you’re going to ignore me too, you’re off to a terrible start.”

Toola laughed. “Don’t let them scare you, Rarity. They love scandal. Your hooves are gonna ache making the dresses they’ll buy from you after this.”

Rarity clucked disapprovingly. “Not all of us are as mercenary as you are, Toola darling. There are more important things than money.” She smiled when she said it, though. This was a more friendly sort of antagonism, I guessed.

“Yeah,” said Toola, “and most of them can be bought with money. You know what they say — when bankers get together, they talk about art. When artists get together they talk about money.”

“Speaking of which, how are your taxes coming? My accountant is being simply dreary about receipts.” Rarity rolled her eyes.

“Oh, Faust, aren’t they always?” said Toola, snagging Rarity a glass of champagne from one of the servers. “If I say I was entertaining clients, I was entertaining clients. I mean, who isn’t a potential client? After all, everypony loves my paintings.”

Okay, this was getting boring. I made my excuses. I had more important matters to attend to. I stalked a server to the gallery’s small kitchen. I pretended to be absorbed in a painting while I observed the posture and attitude with which servers took new trays from the table by the kitchen door. When a tray came out and no server immediately appeared to collect it, I scooped it up like I was supposed to be there. It was tiny quiches. I love tiny quiches.

The crowd’s hostility meant little to me, except that I got to look at whatever painting I wanted to without having to crane my neck. They fled from me and my professor sweater and my insatiable hunger for quiche like I had a loathsome and highly communicable skin disease.

I did like Toola’s paintings. I didn’t know much about art, but I appreciated her meticulous realism. She was considered a surrealist. The reasons for this were not immediately apparent — on the surface, her paintings seemed like simple scenes of ordinary life. A garden wedding. A mother cooking while her foals played on the floor nearby. A group of wealthy ponies — including a ringer for Fancy Pants — sharing a bottle of red wine. And yet closer inspection revealed darker details. Ponies of uncertain intent lurked in the topiary. A knife balanced precariously on the edge of the counter. The wine appeared too opaque, too viscous — not an error it seemed like such a skillful painter would make. I munched quiche and searched each painting for all its grim details.

When I came back to Rarity and Toola, the conversation had moved into more interesting territory.

“You give them too much power, Rarity,” said Toola, blowing a strand of hair out of her face.

“I’m sure I have no idea what you mean, Toola darling.”

“You’re trying to please them. As long as you are trying to please these ponies, they will think they can control you.” She shook her head sadly. “They can’t even help it, it’s what they do. It’s all they have. How many of the ponies in this room actually make anything?”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “Well, some of them, certainly. But not many, I’ll allow.”

“You have no idea how much they need you. They think they have power, but the weakest of your friends has more real power than they’ll ever see.”

I assume Toola was talking about the Element Bearers, here, not me.

“You have vision. All they have are opinions. They need you. Without ponies like you, what’ll they even have opinions about?”

“What’s this about ponies who have opinions?” said Trenderhoof, materializing out of the crowd as if summoned.

Rarity laid a hoof on his shoulder and smiled at him. “At least you go to some effort to get yours, darling.”

“So what were we talking about? The vicissitudes of the critics, or the elephant in the room?”

I made a trunk out of my foreleg, and wiggled it in front of my face. In doing so, I dropped the tray, making a racket and dumping the last three or four quiches on the floor. I tried to rescue them, but Rarity gently pushed her foreleg against my chest, stopping me.

Toola batted her eyelashes. “It’s all about the wildlife, Trender. Rarity dared to take a lover from outside their incestuous little pack. The hearts she has broken! The reputations she has failed to enchant! The schemes to gain the ear of Princess Twilight that she has foiled!” She raised a hoof to her forehead melodramatically. “But you know what? They’re gonna get over it.”

Nearby, I heard a mare gasp. I turned to see Upper Crust staring in horror at her hoof. She had trodden on a tiny quiche! I started to laugh. Rarity bopped me in the fetlock with her hoof and gave me a quelling glare.

“I admit,” said Rarity, “I hadn’t thought of it in those terms.”

Upper Crust waved her hoof at her husband, wailing for a napkin. I bit my lip and snorted. I was going cross-eyed trying not to laugh.

“They think they’re so sophisticated. So liberated,” said Toola, “but just try wearing a negligée to a ball, or a ball gown to an orgy, and see how they react.”

Rarity and Trenderhoof laughed politely. I guffawed — actually because Upper Crust had stepped on another quiche while trying to clean off the first one, but I got a fond smile from Toola anyway.

“Oh, speaking of orgies, I’m throwing one next week. Can you two make it?” said Toola.

“I’ll check my calendar,” said Trenderhoof, but I was short enough to see that he’d stiffened noticeably at the prospect. I snickered.

“What do you think, Frazzle darling? I know you had wanted to be monogamous,” asked Rarity.

I blushed furiously, and not just because I’d been caught giggling at Trender’s package. “Oh… I, um, well, I mean, it would hardly be my firtht orgy…” Actually technically it would be. Impromptu group sex had happened to me once or twice, depending on exactly what you counted as ‘sex’, but never premeditated debauchery on that scale.

Rarity nuzzled my cheek. “We can discuss it later, darling.”

———

Much later, we stepped out into the street. The drugs had largely worn off, leaving me giddy, but mostly sane. Rarity deflated the second we were outside.

“That,” she said, scooping her hoof around my fetlock and hurrying me down the street, “was the most humiliating experience of my life!”

“Toola and Trenderhoof were nithe,” I offered cautiously.

“But I want to be adored!” she whined, hanging her head. “How dare they treat me like common street trash just because of who I’m with!”

“Who you’re with.” I felt cold. ‘With’. Not ‘who I love’, but ‘who I’m with’.

Rarity didn’t even realize what she’d said. She was too wrapped up in her own misery. My heart went out to her. Her pain was my pain. But… ‘with’? “I love you. Ithn’t that enough?”

“But that’s not the point!” she stamped petulantly. “Everypony needs to love me!”

“Why?”

Rarity froze. She stared at me. “Well… I mean, because I’m fabulous. Isn’t it obvious?”

“You don’t need to prove you’re fabulouth.” I pointed a quivering hoof back at the gallery. “Thothe ponies are never going to love you. They only care about how you make them look! You need to be around them to do your buthineth, but Rarity, I’m the one whothe feelings should matter to you!”

Rarity narrowed her eyes. “Do you really need to make this about you, darling? You were nothing but an embarrassment in there.”

Tears started rolling down my cheeks. “So you are athamed of me! Back in Ponyville, you were all, ‘love, love, love’, but when fashion ponies start giving you the could shoulder, I’m just ‘with’ you! You are tho… tho thelfish!”

Rarity gasped as though she’d been slapped. “How dare you! Why you frumpy, ungrateful little reefer-swilling guttersnipe, I’ll have you know that…”

That was about as far as she got before I broke. The next thing I knew, my hooves were thudding down the street away from her. Bitter sobs wracked my chest. I imagined the whole block could hear me crying, but I didn’t care. It was true. Everything I’d feared was true. Rarity didn’t really love me.

I cried all the way to Maud’s apartment.

———

The next morning Maud and I found Rarity sitting in the lobby of CGS headquarters, looking like she hadn’t slept. Her mane was ragged, and her eyes were distant and red. I felt sorry for her. I also felt lonely, angry, horny, frustrated, remorseful, brokenhearted, resentful, and confused. I had a lot of feelings. I needed more coffee before I could even begin to sort them out.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” she said.

“What’s the matter?” asked Maud, her eyes drifting to the Maresace saddlebag Rarity was clutching to her belly.

She waved us closer, and glanced around. The guard at the desk was involved in a crossword puzzle. The guards at the magic detectors were busy screening the ponies coming into work. Nopony was paying attention to us. She opened the bag. It glowed blue inside. I leaned over and saw a single crystal nestled beside her compact, wallet, tissues, and last year’s September issue. Beneath the gem’s surface, equations shimmered, solving themselves, then sliding off to be replaced by new ones. I gulped. Maud whistled.

“Crystal math,” Maud whispered.

“We need to get her to Jack,” I said.

A Rock to a Gun Fight

Author's Note

This one starts kind of weird. Stick with it; it makes sense soon enough.

A Rock to a Gun Fight

Flim stood over Flam’s unconscious body, shaking with rage. He flicked Flam’s fallen revolver up off the floor with his magic, screaming like a mad horse, clicked back the hammer, and swung it towards me. I knew when he pulled the trigger that the bullet was going to hit me — I could calculate its trajectory in my head. There was no scenario where I wasn’t hit, and hit badly.

Back up a bit.

Flim and Flam and their intimidating bodyguards stood over us, watching as I inhaled glowing blue powder off a mirror. Fire rushed through my sinuses and directly into my brain. The universe exploded, and time came unraveled.

Back way, way up.

The red-tinted darkness echoed with the beat of a massive drum. I was safe and happy. Suddenly a line split the darkness. Gigantic hooves reached through and pulled me out of my mother’s guts and into a world of light and blood and noise.

Okay, that was too far back.

“Darling, this is still my boutique. Did you think you could make a couple of bits on the side laundering gems and I wouldn’t find out?”

Sassy huddled in the corner of Rarity’s office, a look of terror on her face. Rarity’s magic glowed around Sassy’s throat. She had tried to flee when Rarity had told her what she knew, and when that had failed she had tried to fight back, but Rarity was an experienced magic fighter and Sassy was not.

“Are… are you going to turn me in?”

Rarity laughed. “Darling, if I were going to do that you’d be talking to the Royal Guard, and not to me. I never get my own hooves dirty if I can avoid it.”

Sassy glanced at me. “What about her? She’s CGS, isn’t she?”

“Bent. And not just sexually,” said Rarity.

Sassy stared at me. I smirked.

“She has connections that can keep us in the law’s blind spot. Though she will require a cut of the profits as well,” said Rarity.

“I can’t… I can’t make those decisions,” said Sassy.

“Well, darling, why don’t you take me to someone who can?”

The conversation slowed to a halt, like gradually turning down the speed on a record player. I was aware that somewhere in time, I was about to die. I had to get back there.

Forward a little.

Too far forward. The bullet slammed into me, tearing through my hide. It ricocheted off a rib and tore apart a lung. It was heading for my heart. I was going to die.

Back. Back. It doesn’t matter how far. As far as I can go.

My daddy was hitched to his plow, dragging it through the dirt as I marched in front of him, digging up rocks and dragging them out of the way. The noonday sun was hot, horseflies were buzzing around both of us, and I was tired and thirsty but happy to be working with my daddy.

I should be safe here for a little while. Time to think.

So. I had taken crystal math to prove to Flim and Flam that I was telling the truth when I said I wanted to work with them. They’d watched too many crime plays if they thought that made any difference. Then things got weird. I seemed to be going back and forth through my own timeline. Crystal math wasn’t supposed to do that, was it? What did I know about crystal math? Not a lot, I had to admit. It was rare stuff, and dangerous; not the kind of thing you get to work with in geology school.

“I think it’s about time we had some lunch, don’cha think?” said Daddy.

Wait, I remembered this day. I was eight. My family would go to the market later this evening, and I’d buy a copy of Cattlehouse-Eight for a quarter-bit. It would become one of my favorite books.

“Wanna help me get unhitched, little sprout?”

“Okay, Daddy,” I squeaked, and pronked over to him. I helped him undo his buckles. The smell of his sweat filled my nostrils and made me tingle inside. At this point in time he was still healthy, powerful, and gentle. He still seemed like the biggest, strongest stallion in the world. He was purple with a ginger mane like me, though I’d gotten Mommy’s hair. I wondered if I could tell Daddy about the cancer growing in his gut before it was too late.

“What’th Mommy making for lunch?” I asked.

Nope. I couldn’t. I was only observing. That didn’t bode well for the bullet.

I stayed where I was for a while. It was good to see Daddy again. We ate lunch, we worked all afternoon, we went to the market. After he kissed me goodnight, I waited until I could hear him talking to Mommy downstairs, then lit a candle and read about how Pony Pilgrim had come unstuck in time.

I couldn’t stay here. I didn’t know if I was really traveling in time, or just remembering. Maybe I was already dying, and this was just my brain mopping the floors and putting up the chairs before the lights went out.

I tried to dig up what little I could remember about crystal math. A drug so nasty that even Luna, princess of darkness and debauchery, agreed it should be illegal. Stimulant. Powerful. Highly addictive. Usually snorted or injected, though you could also swallow a small crystal like a pill if you didn’t mind a reduced effect. It enhanced intelligence, especially computational abilities, but you had to be extremely smart already to handle the extra horsepower. Most ponies who used it just went temporarily insane — which might be what was happening to me right now. Habitual usage inevitably lead to brain damage and death. Light Bright had tried it once. He said it was like being strapped to the front of a moving train with the multiplication table screaming in your ear.

I concentrated, skimming forward through the next ten years, trying to find the lecture I was looking for. Anomalous Mineralogy. Freshman year. I found it easily enough, but I kept flubbing the landing. Finally I just stopped a week beforehand and sat through an entire week of college. This was during the period when I’d been experimenting with heterosexuality, so there were a number of awkward dates and sloppy but unfulfilling make-out sessions with Harry Hooves.

Some of those make-out sessions ran pretty long. My past self was half asleep the morning of the lecture.

Coffee! More coffee! I hissed internally. I wasn’t going to endure a week of half-assed tonsil hockey just to sleep through what I needed to know.

Past me slung her saddlebags over her back and put her tray — with its single empty coffee cup — in the dish window of the Smart Cookie Hall Cafeteria and headed for class.

Wait. I remember this day. I remembered drifting off in class very clearly. No wonder I couldn’t remember anything about crystal math!

Coffee! Get. Another. Cup. Of. Coffee. My head hurt. My past self stopped and put a hoof to her head. She wobbled on her hooves. She turned around and filled the biggest takeaway cup she could get with burnt-tasting dining hall coffee, mixed with a little bit of hot chocolate to mask the taste.

I’d changed history. I was traveling in time! What the actual buck?

“Digranualar Mezapronenite, better known by its street name ‘crystal math’, is a particularly interesting substance.” said professor Gumption. “It is composed of non-interacting monads formed into a hexagonal tesseract. Technically, it’s not a mineral at all, but a folding of space-time that our senses perceive as crystalline matrix.”

So that was how it worked. Yes. The passage of time is an illusion; all moments are equally real. Panicked by the prospect of death, I had somehow been able to use the four-dimensional nature of crystal math to detach my consciousness from the present moment and move back and forth along my timeline. Of course, this view of time would seem to rule out free will. And yet I had been able to change my own actions! Past me scribbled notes furiously. With enough finesse and willpower, I could definitely interfere in past events, though Faust knew what I’d do to causality if I did. It was a terrifying prospect — no wonder this stuff was illegal!

Across the auditorium a gray hoof went up.

The professor sighed. “Yes, Maud?”

“If we know that something as strange as crystal math is real, then why do you continue to deny the possibility that aurthurium exists?”

I felt my past self roll her eyes. Present me didn’t agree. Maud had shown me quite a bit of evidence since then.

“Find me a sample of aurthurium, Maud, and we’ll talk.”

“I can’t,” said Maud. “There’s a conspiracy to cover up its existence.”

The class laughed.

Pain lanced through my chest. The pain pulled me forward in time. I was in Flim and Flam’s office over Vanilla’s. There was gunfire, and the whistling of flingstones. Windows were breaking. Rarity was rushing towards me. I was dying. I gritted my teeth and concentrated as hard as I could.

Back. Back.

I was leaving Pinkie Pie’s party with Rarity. I fell to my knees in pain.

“Oh my goodness, Frazzle dear, are you all right?”

Back. Further back. There was something very important I needed to do.

I was in my bed, back on the farm. Daddy was huge. Bigger than the sky. I couldn’t be more than six. He was sitting on the edge of my bed, reading to me by candlelight. I sat up, and thumped him on the shoulder.

“Daddy. You’re going to start having stomach pains in three years. It’s not indigestion. It’s stomach cancer, and you have to go to a doctor as as soon as it starts.”

He stopped reading and turned to look at me, looking confused. “Where’d you learn all those big scary words, little sprout?”

“You have to listen. You have to listen, Daddy. You’re going to die.”

He stroked my head. “Aw, sprout, you must’ve drifted off and had a bad dream. Daddy’s fine.”

Pain jerked me forward again. I dug in as hard as I could.

Our meeting with Jack that morning flashed by. Rarity and I had exchanged apologies in the hall after the meeting, and had quick, brutal make-up sex in a disused office. I still had Rarity’s toothmarks on my plot when we talked to Sassy later that day.

Confronting Sassy again. While we were talking, I shifted my badge from my left breast pocket to my right. The pain in my chest didn’t get any better. Oh well. It was worth a try.

Flash forward. Vanilla’s brothel. The madam, Vanilla Delights, watched warily as two strapping goon-ponies — with brass horseshoe and broken kneecap cutie marks respectively — led Rarity, Sassy, and me across her foyer, through a door marked ‘employees only’, and up the back stairs. I desperately hoped Vanilla wasn’t involved in this. Not that I ever frequent her establishment. I would never do that.

The back areas had the same burgundy-and-dark-cherry decor as the customer area. Crystal lights dressed up to look like old-fashioned gas lights hung on the walls. I took stock of the goons escorting us. Tough ones, and clearly packing revolvers under their suit coats. Revolvers. Rubbish. Limited ammo, slow rate of fire, prone to jamming, and always lethal — the user had no control of projectile velocity. But they looked lovely. A unicorn weapon in all respects. Earth ponies could fire them with their mouths if they wanted to for some reason, but we had a saying — never bring a gun to a rock fight. If only they hadn’t taken my quiver of flingstones off me at the door.

Horseshoes opened the last door on the left. Two lanky, red-maned unicorns were sipping brandy in plush recliners. Black suits. Black boater hats. From the look on her face, Rarity had met them before.

“Flim. Flam,” said Rarity. “I might’ve known.”

“Just a pair of honest business ponies trying to make an honest day’s profit,” said the one with the mustache.

“And what, I say, what brings us the pleasure of your company on this fine evening?” said the one without.

Rarity tossed her head. “Well. I’m sure you’ll be shocked to learn that my employee here” — she inclined her head towards Sassy, whose back knees were shaking violently — “has been using my fine establishment as a front for a gem smuggling operation. And worse, she did so without taking the trouble to first obtain my permission!”

“Shocking,” deadpanned mustache.

“How very gauche of her,” agreed the other.

“Yes. And to make matters still worse, the gems being smuggled are of a heavily proscribed nature. If I may?”

Flim and Flam nodded. Rarity levitated a chunk of crystal math out of the dark trenchcoat she was wearing.

“Why, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Flim, have you?” said the one with the moustache.

“I have no, I say, absolutely no idea what I’m looking at, Flam,” said the other one.

“Don’t play dumb, boys,” said Rarity, tossing the gem into Flim’s lap. “So. I certainly don’t want to involve the law in this matter…”

“An interesting thing for you to say…” said Flim.

“…because we happen to have been informed that your skinny purple friend is an agent of the Canterlot Geological Survey. What could have given you the temerity, the gall, the gumption, and dare I say it, the unmitigated stupidity to bring an officer of the peace with you to lay these baseless accusations at our hooves?” said Flam.

“Added value,” explained Rarity. “I’m here to see that I’m fairly compensated for services that I am already providing. But I understand that you’re unlikely to be happy about paying for what you’ve previously been getting for free. Frazzle here feels that the Principality does not sufficiently compensate her for her services, and, given adequate remuneration, would be interested helping keep your operation out of the government’s view.”

I nodded. I find when it comes to subterfuge, I do best if I keep my mouth shut. Especially when woozy with pain from something that hasn’t even happened yet.

“We are of course, blameless of any wrongdoing. But if, and I say if, we were to consider your proposal…” said Flam.

“…we would first require a gesture of good faith. A demonstration of Frazzle’s willingness to play ball,” said Flim.

Were they going to make me kill somepony? I really hoped they didn’t make me kill somepony.

Flam gestured for his goons to drag a table into the center of the room. It had a large hoof mirror and a straight razor on it. It also had a stone ashtray in the near corner that I would already have made use of later in the timeline, if that makes any sense. Sometimes I do get things right on the first try. Flam crushed the crystal gently on the mirror, and divided it into lines with the razor.

“There,” he said, pushing the mirror over to me. “Prove you are not acting as an officer of the law.”

I struggled to keep a straight face. If they were going to give me an excuse to do drugs at work, I wasn’t going to pass it up. Jack would understand. Anyway, you know how the rest goes. I can’t write about Rarity’s ensuing negotiations because I don’t really remember any details. Things only got really clear again when they handed her a suitcase full of Principality scrip.

The next seven seconds were very busy. I slowed my perception of time to a crawl. I didn’t have a lot of timeline left. I needed to make the most of if. The first thing that happened was that the EUP pegasi who had been observing the transaction started coming through the windows. Sassy hit the floor — she wasn’t completely stupid, apparently. Rarity’s horn flashed, I heard a sickening squishing noise, and the goon next to me — Horseshoes, I think — went down clutching at his groin. Rarity wasn’t above fighting dirty.

Rarity turned to the other goon, who had his gun halfway levitated out of its holster. The gun froze in midair, and Rarity and Kneecapper stood, horns blazing, eyes locked, stuck in some sort of magical unicorn slap fight. I grabbed the ashtray with my mouth. Actual cigarette ashes in it. Yuck. But stone — good, solid stone. It felt like it was a part of me. Marksmanship was hardly my strong suit, but at this range I could hardly miss. Future pain seared my chest. I was having a hard time focusing.

Flam rose out of his chair, levitating a revolver out from under his suit coat. The first time through, I had flung the ashtray at him, cracking his skull and knocking him out. I knew exactly where that future lead. Flim would pick up his brother’s gun and shoot me in the chest. The pain I was feeling told me that relocating my badge to the likely point of impact wasn’t going to be enough to save me. I concentrated until my head hurt, nearly stopping time. The effort made veins throb in my eyes. I didn’t know how long I could hold it. I needed to think. I realized that Flam was aiming at Rarity. He didn’t see me as a threat. Typical racist unicorn.

I didn’t want to die.

Without thinking, I flicked my head, and sent the ashtray spinning in a perfectly calculated ballistic arc into Flim’s forehead. The pain in my chest vanished instantly. Flam pulled the trigger. I spun and kicked the table up, drug paraphernalia flying off of it as it slammed into him. But I was too late. I heard Rarity cry out. I looked up and saw her collapse. The goon she had been fighting went down in a hail of flingstones. Rough pegasi in black armor had to pull me off of Flam so they could cuff him. I’d gotten a few good kicks in. Not enough to give him more than a bloody nose.

———

I was outside in the street, sitting on the back of an ambulance, a blanket over my shoulders and a cup of coffee in my hooves. Police wagons were everywhere. Jack and Maud were there. Maud said they’d found over three million bits’ worth of crystal math in Vanilla’s basement.

I was still high. Math hammered through my veins, keeping me constantly aware of my pulse, body temperature, blood pressure, and blood oxygen levels. Police lights flashed 255-79-160, 135-204-255, 255-79-160, over and over and over. I wished they’d stop.

I had watched them wheel Rarity into an ambulance. She was alive and lucid. We had touched hooves. Some of Flam’s nose blood smeared from my hoof onto hers. She thanked me for saving her. The paramedics said she’d be fine. She’d be fine. But I knew she’d have a scar. And every time I saw it, I’d remember how I’d failed.

I tried to go back into my own timeline again, but however I’d blundered into that trick I couldn’t do it any more. I wished I’d left well enough alone. I could have given my life for Rarity. In that room I hadn’t wanted to die. But now I felt so guilty that I thought that being dead might be better.

Maybe it had all been a hallucination? That did seem like the simpler explanation. Maybe I was only a coward in my dreams.

Maud sat down on the tailgate next to me. She put a foreleg around my shoulders. She was warm — 37.5 degrees centigrade, to be exact. I put my head against hers and closed my eyes.

Our Time in Eden

Rarity recovered with shocking rapidity. The bullet had torn through the muscles of her shoulder and snapped the blade. Potentially quite serious, but not bad for a bullet wound. She credited her survival to my kicking that table into Flam’s face before he fired the gun. This didn’t fit with my memory of the sequence of events, but I was out of my mind on crystal math at the time. I remembered sacrificing her to save my own worthless hide, but who knows? It’s not like the drug was supposed to give me super-precise computational abilities or anything.

Oh, wait.

Anyhow, Rarity had been a terror to the hospital staff, making them move her three times before they put her in a private room with a corner window just to shut her up. She had refused surgery until Twilight agree to bring some unicorn named ‘Doctor Dust’ or ‘Dusk’ or ‘Duck’ or something to do the operation. I met him, briefly. Thick glasses and an obviously fake accent and mustache couldn’t hide a resemblance to the princess, and the white lab coat I never saw him take off seemed suspiciously full along the sides. Something weird was up with him, but he had magically fused the two halves of Rarity’s shoulder blade and gone back to wherever he was from before I could even begin to formulate theories.

By the time Toola’s orgy rolled around, Rarity was out of the hospital and rolling about Canterlot Boutique on her crutch wheel, ordering around the poor fashion students she’d brought in to replace Sassy like an unusually stylish drill sergeant breaking in raw recruits. She could not be dissuaded from attending the party, though she was persuaded to wear the pink scarf that traditionally denoted an observer. The mystery doctor had warned her against strenuous physical activity, after all. As well as travel, so she was stuck in Canterlot with me for a little while. Such a pity.

Anyway. The orgy. It was a bit more staid than I expected. Or, anyway, it looked that way at first. Toola and her friends had rented a corner suite in the Grand Plaza Hotel. In the main room of the suite, a few dozen ponies were talking and drinking, or making love quietly on couches and cushions at the edge of the rooms. Not too different from an ordinary Canterlot party, except that everyone was wearing masks. The masks were kind of a silly affectation, since almost everyone’s cutie mark was hanging out, making them easy to identify. Another tradition, I supposed. Two simple stages had been set up in the far corners of the room. One had a string quartet on it, also masked. The other had a simple set of stocks consisting of a pole, a crossbar, and two manacles that were high enough up that the poor pony tied to it would have to stand on her hind legs. A head rest was also provided, to make the position more comfortable. Rarity and I had discussed this aspect of the evening in great detail earlier, and I still wasn’t sure what to think about it.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” said Toola.

“Red wine, if you don’t mind,” said Rarity.

“I’m fine, thankth,” I said. Looking around staring at everyone’s plot, as I’m wont to do, I recognized several cutie marks that had snubbed Rarity at the art opening. They seemed fine with her in this context, and they certainly didn’t seem to mind me, judging by the regretful glances at my pink neckerchief. The Canterlot upper class were strange. But then again, I suppose no one turns down fresh meat at an orgy, however small and lean the portion.

“If you wanna mingle, Rarity, I can show her around.” said Toola.

Rarity laughed. “You just want some time alone with her, you sly minx. She won’t yield to your temptations. She’s a wholesome Whinnyappolis filly, not one of your Canterlot slatterns.”

Toola kissed Rarity rather familiarly on the mouth. Well. That was where that friendship had been. Lips closed, though, so that was okay. “Of course,” said Toola, “I know all about you country-bred mares. I just want to save you the walking.”

“I’ll believe it when my love returns with her virtue unthreatened,” purred Rarity. We nuzzled our goodbyes and Rarity went to talk to friends of hers I’d rather not know. Fancy Pants slid up by her side, smiling disingenuously, as Toola and I walked away. I snarled internally. Why did she think he was her friend? I remember her story of the time he called the Element Bearers ‘charmingly rustic’ as though it were a compliment. I’d have slapped him. Well, no, I wouldn’t have, because I’m me. But I would have wanted to!

“So, would you like to visit Eden?” asked Toola, laying a hoof on a door hidden behind a tapestry of a fig tree on the far side of the room. So there were other rooms! Of course there were other rooms.

“Let the voyage of depravity begin!” I giggled, and I grabbed a hoofful of tiny quiches from the hors d’oeuvres table before heading in.

Eden was a long, dim room, walls painted with trompe l’oeil murals of a paradisiacal garden. A maze of gauzy curtains kept the atmosphere intimate, but did nothing to block the cacophony of moans. I assumed that this was the heterosexual room, or at least what passes for heterosexual in Canterlot. Couples and small groups of stallions and mares lay tangled together on the cushions lining the floor. Some were oblivious to the action around them, lost in one another. Others were more community-minded, passing freely between groups as positions changed. I was fascinated. A mare, impaled and writhing, is always interesting to me, even if I’m not much turned on by her partner. A young orange and pink mare especially caught my eye; she looked so young I was surprised she was allowed to be here. She lay on her back, her lean but soft body spitted by two much older stallions who moved on top of her with lazy grace even as they kissed one another. She thumped a hoof against the hip of the one in her mouth, getting him to pull out so she could catch her breath. She noticed my interest, and flashed me a welcoming, innocent smile. I blushed, touched my pink neckerchief, and darted through the next curtain after Toola.

Near the back of the room Toola paused and gave me a wicked grin. She held a hoof to her lips and pulled the last curtain aside. Behind it were six compassionate mares, sensitive to the plight of straight stallions who had come to the party unaccompanied. The mares’ cheeks were soaked with fluids, their masks sticky, their manes matted to their heads. One who I was pretty sure I recognized as Upper Crust under all the ejaculate was allowing her mouth to be passed back and forth between two strapping pegasi. They weren’t being gentle, gagging her with every thrust. Even the stallions looked concerned, but when they pause to ask her if she was okay she scowled and demanded to know why they had stopped. For a second, it felt good to see such a haughty mare being so demeaningly treated. Then I immediately felt bad. Upper Crust was just a submissive, like me, who’d found a different way to feel dominated. What she was doing was nothing to be ashamed of. I pulled the curtain gently out of Toola’s hoof and we moved on.

She led me back out into the main room, and then into another. “Sodom,” she explained, giving me a wicked grin. It was similar to the last room, but the walls were painted with scenes from a burning city and the occupants were almost entirely male. I’m afraid I didn’t understand the reference — to my memory, they mythical city of Sodom was destroyed for not showing hospitality to a divine messenger, but maybe I was forgetting some details? Anyway, it was… stallionly? I’m afraid I’m the wrong pony to wax poetic about it, though Toola seemed to like what she saw there. Trenderhoof was near the door allowing himself to be used much as Upper Crust had been. He tapped a time out on his friends’ bellies so that he could say hello to me, which was nice of him. Apparently I’d made a good impression. Anyway, Toola recognized that I was bored here, and led me out and into the final room she showed me that night.

“I think you’ll like this one best,” she said, and I did.

The walls were painted with clouds and columns no doubt meant to be evocative of the classical pegasus city of Lesbos, for which mares of a certain proclivity are named.

Oh, lost Lesbos! How I long to have walked your quiet temples and sunny arcades! How I wish I could have sheltered in your sacred groves and non-triggering safe spaces! How I ache to enjoy your comfortable horseshoes and awesome folk music concerts! But alas, even if you still existed, I would fall right through you, for I am an earth pony. Oh well.

There were no curtains here. Aside from a little space around the door and a few narrow hoofpaths, the whole cushioned floor was covered with mares. Big mares and little mares. Fat mares and skinny mares. Old mares and young mares. Beautiful mares and plain mares. They twisted in between each other’s thighs. They nosed under each other’s tails. They kissed in twos and threes. Sweet voices, husky with passion, filled the air with moans and cries of delight. Toys were making the rounds. Plump, feminine haunches bobbed together, smacking into each other around double-ended dildos. Other mares were spearing each other with hoofheld dildos and butt plugs. I watched in horror and fascination as an ancient, one-eyed gray mare surrounded by a gaggle of college-age fillies allowed her admirers to transfer a large, realistic toy from between her haunches to her mouth, and back between her haunches again. Didn’t she know that was unsanitary?

I leaned over to Toola and whispered, “I am the happiest homothexual in the world right now.”

And I was, but my pleasure was far from unalloyed. I had been wracked with doubts about my relationship with Rarity from the beginning. I doubted that I was good enough for her, and that doubt was still in play. I doubted whether she really loved me. And ever since that art opening and our first big fight, I’d begun to wonder if Rarity — amazing though she was — was really the kind of mare I wanted to spend my life with. Now, added to that, I was doubting whether it had been wise to commit to be faithful to a single mare when things like this happened in the world. I was just starting to feel sorry for myself when I felt Toola reaching around to the back of my neck.

“What… What are you doing?” I asked.

Toola held up my pink neckerchief, and tossed it over her shoulder. “Rarity says it would be simply inequine to show you this room and not allow you to participate. You are given a pass for the evening. What happens in Lesbos stays in Lesbos. She adds that you are to be on time for your appointment with Mistress Derpythia at midnight, and that when you speak to her again, you are to be appropriately grateful. Public groveling is encouraged.”

I took back everything I’d just been thinking. Rarity was the best marefriend ever.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” said Toola, pecking me on the cheek, “I have an appointment in Eden. Have fun!”

———

It was one thing to stand with your muzzle pressed up to the glass of the candy store. It was another thing to be given ten bits and told to take your pick. Even more so because most of these pieces of brightly colored candy had pre-existing relationships. Or at least knew each other in normal life. I wandered amongst them for a little while, looking but not daring to touch. All of them, even the ugliest, were too wonderful to risk spoiling with my unworthy hooves, and there was always the nagging feeling that if I committed to one tryst, I might be missing out on an even better one on the other side of the room. Then I heard the door open behind me. I turned to see the teenage mare I’d seen in Eden step into the room.

She was absolutely perfect. Her yellowish orange coat was close-cropped and showed off her trim muscles and the gentle curve of her soft belly and pert, high plot. There was something familiar about the honest openness of her smile and the sturdy broadness of her hips, but I didn’t recognize her lemon tree cutie mark. She looked at me, grinned, and began picking her way across the floor towards me.

“Oh, pardon me. Excuse me. Pardon me.” She tiptoed over tangled female forms with awkward delicacy. She stopped in front of me. Was this really happening? Conventionally hot mares had not, historically, been interested in me. I mean, before Rarity. Maybe her confidence was rubbing off on me?

“Um, hi?” she said, fiddling with her long, straight pink mane. The eyes behind her domino mask were green. She was wearing blue-and-white striped socks. She had freckles.

“Yeah. Hi.” I said, crossing my forelegs and looking down. Down turned out to be straight at somepony carefully pushing a string of softball-sized beads up another mare’s ass. There really wasn’t anyplace safe to look in this whole party.

She laughed. “Oh my Faust, these things are so awkward! I think you’re cute, but like, are we just supposed to start making out, or what?”

“I have no idea. Thith ith my first one,” I said.

She put a hoof to her mouth and giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just your voice…”

My heart, which had been floating, suddenly dived for the bottom of my belly.

“…It’s so sweet! Where have they been keeping you?” She wrapped a hoof cautiously around my foreleg. I shifted so I could hold hooves with her and still keep my balance. I narrowly avoided stepping on an orgasming mare’s face.

“Oh. Thorry.”

“Aren’t these the worst?” said my new friend. “I’ve never been before, either. My dad said it’d be a good place to make business contacts, but all I’ve done so far is fuck a couple of old queens who were more interested in each other than in me and eat a lot of tiny quiches.”

Her dad sent her here? Faust bless you Canterlot, every time I think I’m getting jaded you find a new way to creep me the sweet heck out.

“Aren’t the tiny quiches the best?” I said, trying to steer the conversation away from the emotionally complicated topic of fathers.

“I know, right? I like the ones with the broccoli best, though…” A yelp came from underneath my new friend’s hooves. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s all right. Oh. Yes. Harder. Just like that.”

I blushed. “Do you want to go thomeplace where we can have a converthation without thtepping on anypony’s face?”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” said my new friend.

———

Neither of us knew where the private rooms were, or even if there were any. The bathrooms all had lines. We tried a random door and blundered into the BDSM room. I had thought that what Rarity and I did was pretty extreme, but apparently it gets way weirder. I don’t even want to talk about it. My new friend told me that one of the gay stallions she’d been with earlier had mentioned a heavily curtained window at the far end of the Sodom room that opened out onto the fire escape. This proved to be the case, and soon we were both sitting on an uncomfortable iron grate, leaning against each other, giggling like schoolgirls — which for all I knew my new friend might actually be.

Once we were alone, the awkwardness faded, and soon we were kissing, dark orange lips rubbing against bright purple ones, making the roof of my mouth tingle. My hooves went right to her belly — it was soft and rounded in spite of her body being so toned. That was what made her look so young, I guessed. It was also her best feature on a body full of good ones. I slid the soft bottoms of my hooves up and down her barrel, ruffling her short orange fur, rubbing them into her softness, massaging her teeny tiny teats. She was rubbing at my hips and tummy and teats, too, and the kissing was getting heavy and wet. Definitely a good time.

“I think it’s so cute you’re wearing your glasses over your mask like that,” she giggled during a break from kissing.

“Contacts freak me out,” I explained. I didn’t know how ponies got used to touching their own eyeballs.

“I like the panties, too,” she purred, tugging the white cotton pair that Rarity had made me wear up between my lips. I yelped and jerked my hips forward. I’d been watching ponies have sex for almost an hour at this point, and I was ready to go.

“They’re really wet. You haven’t done anything yet tonight, have you?” said the filly.

She tugged my panties from side to side, rubbing the fabric against my clit. My nerve endings pulsed. “I’m tho horny. I can’t thtand it,” I said. I leaned back on the fire escape, forehooves behind me, hind legs spread. She put a hoof on the inside of my thigh and sawed my panties against my clit with the other hoof like she was trying to cut through. I could feel sweat rolling down my forehead.

“You wanna come?” she asked, grinning like like she’d emptied out the cookie jar and gotten away with it.

“Yeth. Pleathe,” I begged.

“Too bad,” she said, “not gonna let you yet.” Oh, buck me, how do I keep running into these types? Do I smell like I love to be mistreated? Probably. I really hope I do. She pushed me onto my back and leaned down so that she could bite my nipples, plucking them until they were raw and aching. She had bunched up the front of my panties around her hoof, and tugged them up hard every heartbeat or three. It was wonderful — they pushed against the mouth of my vulva and my clit, painful at the very edge of what I could stand. It wasn’t quite enough to make me come, though, because every time it started to feel like it might be, she’d slow down. The young can be so cruel.

“Pleathe. Pleathe. Let me come,” I groaned, forelegs crossed over my face.

“Ask me nice,” she said.

“Pretty pleathe?”

“Not nice enough.” She pulled my panties back , stopping stimulation almost entirely. I bucked my hips in mid-air, but she was an ace at keep-away.

“Pretty, pretty pleathe?”

“Nicer!”

“Pretty pleathe with a banana, chocolate thauce, thprinkleth and a cherry on top?”

“Good enough.” She jerked the panties forward, and began tugging fast. Her mouth went back to my aching nipples — she was gentle, this time, but she’d so ill used them earlier that even the softest lick sent pulses of hot pain through my body. My clit, raw from rubbing against rough fabric, pulsed with electric sensations I couldn’t classify as pain or pleasure. The pulse of sensation tore through my body, muscles twitching. I arched my back up off the fire escape grate. Clear fluid leaked out around the cotton clogging blocking the mouth of my pussy. I might have screamed. A lot. Loudly.

“Oh, wow,” said my new friend. “That was amazing! Do me now!”

I tried to get up. I couldn’t move. “My legth. What have you done to my legth!” I gasped.

“Take your time. I want to try these on.” She rolled my soaked, sticky panties off my thighs. I heard grunting and straining, and when I had the energy to push myself up on my elbows, I saw that the filly had managed to get the panties up over her much larger plot. Not to suggest that it was unusually large, but pretty much everypony has a bigger butt than me. The fabric strained against her round cheeks, digging into them deeply. I could clearly see her pussy through the soaking, stretched fabric. I heard a seam pop. I gulped.

The young mare leaned her back against the guardrail and spread her legs wide, hooves in the air. “Lick me,” she ordered. I lunged forward like a hungry timber wolf and pressed my mouth against the fabric, tasting only my own ultra-sweet goo at first, then her pungent, slightly citrus-y flavor. I explored the contours of her sex, probing her lips, her clit, and the opening of her tunnel with my tongue. I wrapped my hooves around her plump thighs, and nuzzled her clit with the tip of my nose, making her moan.

“On… lick right on me. Don’t do it through the cloth!” she whimpered.

“Theriously? You’re the one who put these on!” Anyway, I hadn’t declared her my mistress, and yet she’d had the temerity to top me. I had revenge to mete out! I kept right on licking through the panties. She flexed her thighs. The panties tore right down the middle. I licked her clit directly. Oh my Faust, so silky! Revenge shmevenge, I could not bring myself to stop licking. I don’t know exactly when she came, but if all the bucking screaming, and thumping me on the head with her hoof was any indication, she came at least once while I was licking her, and it was good.

Rarity cleared her throat. I my eyes popped wide open.

“I didn’t think I’d have to tell this to a mare of your education, Frazzle darling, but the point of an orgy is to have sex in front of other ponies.”

“Oops.Thorry,” I grinned, wiping my lips with my foreleg.

“Gah… gah… ra… ra…” said the filly. I had reduced her to incoherence. I was proud of myself.

Rarity was leaning on the windowsill with her good leg, looking imperious, annoyed and amused, all at the same time. Her eyes flicked up and down the young mare’s body, and she seemed to like what she saw. I guessed Rarity liked them young, the old perv. Of course, I was hardly in a position to judge, in this case. She turned her attention to me. “Did we enjoy ourselves, then?”

I nodded vigorously. Rarity cleared her throat. Oh, right.

I took her hoof in both of mine. “Lady Rarity, who in her infinite mercy allows me to transgress, I thank you from the very depths of my being. I had an awesome time cheating on you.” I licked the edge of her hoof. “There is no service I would deny my wonderful mistress, no matter how painful or humiliating, as long as it doesn’t involve bathroom stuff.” Then I licked her hoof more.

“That will do,” said Rarity, wiping her hoof on the curtains.

“Oh, my gosh, you’re Rarity!” My filly had found her tongue.

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“No, but I’m Meyer Lemon, of the Manehattan Oranges. Applejack is my Faustmother!”

Oh, buck me. And after Applejack had been so nice to me!

Rarity gasped. “Oh, heavens! It’s so good meet you, Meyer, dear!”

“Lemon, please. Meyer sounds like a colt’s name.”

“What brings you to Canterlot?”

“I just graduated. I’m sick of Manehattan. Everypony is so mean, and stuck-up, and backstabby. So I thought I’d like to go somewhere new.” She wriggled out of the ragged remains of my panties, and rolled over onto her front. She didn’t seem at all bothered by her Faustmother’s friend catching her in flagranté. And Rarity’s eyes were all over her. How could they be so cavalier about sex things? Rich ponies were weird.

Rarity gave a rueful little laugh. “You may be disappointed by Canterlot then, I’m afraid. What did you study, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Business management, with minors in marketing and art history.”

Rarity apparently had a place to carry business cards in her negligee, because of course she did. “Interesting. I’ve recently had an opening in my Canterlot location that I might like to discuss with you.”

Lemon made the business card disappear. “Oh, I’d love to.”

“How does Tuesday afternoon look for you?”

“Clear, I think. My planner’s in my coat, I’ll check before I go.”

Rarity turned back to me. “Well in any event, my plaything, Mistress Derpythia requires our assistance. I am glad I thought to bring you extra panties.”

———

Derpythia was a gray mare with a blonde mane, a disarming smile, and a bad case of strabismus. She wore a latex officer’s cap and jacket, and cowcolt-style assless chaps that showed off her bubble cutie mark and what I suspected might be the reason she’d gotten it. It was super rare for a pony to get a cutie mark based on a physical feature, but her rump was so round and jiggly it made Fluttershy look flat and saggy. Maybe she’d gotten her cutie mark while doing squats; I don’t know. She had both a crop and a flogger made of soft cloth strips hanging at her sides.

“I don’t want to be, um, rude, but… can you aim? I mean, your eyeth…” I didn’t want her hitting anything delicate. No, wait, that’s exactly what I wanted her to do. Anyway, we’d met before to discuss limits, but I’d been too shy to ask about her vision then.

“Don’t worry,” she said in a working class Cloudsdale accent that sounded very out of place at this party, “I’ve learned to compensate. Well, mostly. Depth perception — who needs it, am I right?”

Rarity gave me a placatory nuzzle. “Don’t worry, dear. Derpythia is one of the foremost phlebotomists in Equestria.”

“Phlebotomy? No! You are not getting any blood out of me! I did not agree to thith!” I hid behind Rarity, even though she was the one who’d arranged this little… adventure.

“It’s a pun, darling,” said Rarity, turning and pushing me towards Derpythia. “Flay bottomist. Do try to keep up.”

“Oh. Right. I thould have figured that out.”

“You should have, yes. But it’s all right.” Rarity patted me reassuringly on the plot. “I still love you.”

“I have no idea what either of you are talking about,” said Derpythia, grinning like she couldn’t care less. “Do you remember the safeword system, Honey?”

I nodded. “Red, yellow, green.”

Rarity smacked her lips in disapproval. “How prosaic.”

Derpythia drew her crop and slapped it against her hoof. “Then let’s smack some tush!”

Rarity and Derpythia lead me up to the stocks. I was guided up onto my hind hooves, and the manacles were fastened around my front fetlocks. Toola was introducing us. The crowd laughed. I hoped she had made a joke. I placed my forehead against the head rest, breathing shallowly. I couldn’t see the room full of ponies watching me, but I could feel their eyes on me. I braced myself, waiting for the first blow. Instead, I felt a tingling caress across my buttocks. The braided strips of her flogger teased me, sliding across my ass and over the panties covering my delicate bits. Then the crowd murmured approvingly.

“How does that feel?” said Derpythia.

“It feelth nithe,” I said.

The flogger flipped away, and slapped back against my flesh. I yelped.

“How about that, honey?”

“More, pleathe,” I whimpered. The crowd tittered and muttered in approval.

She swatted each of my cheeks in turn, pausing occasionally to tease me with the softness of the flogger’s strips. It was a gentle spanking, so far, but a burning ache was slowly building up over time. Still, I began to relax. She gave me a quick slap on each cutie mark, ran the flogger up around my dock, and then brought it down several times on my croup. I’d been nervous about this, but it wasn’t so bad. I could handle it. The humiliation of being publicly flogged was surprisingly manageable, maybe because I couldn’t see the audience. And the endorphin rush, together with the pleasure of having my rump played with, more than compensated for the pain. I was new to the sub thing, sure, but apparently I could already handle anything. I was a natural!

Then Derpythia switched to the riding crop.

The first slap came without warning, slamming into both cheeks with a loud crack. I yowled. A murmur ran through the crowd.

“How about that? Was that okay?” she asked, her voice cheerful.

“It hurt,” I whimpered. The crowd laughed

She rubbed the flat end of the crop against my flanks, caressing aching flesh. “Oh. Well. That’s too bad. Because I’m not half done yet.” Two smacks with the crop, at the point of each buttock. I yelped. Her prep work with the flogger hadn’t seemed like much at the time, but it had left my rear very tender.

She leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “If you’re okay, Honey?”

“Green,” I whimpered. I’m not ashamed to admit it — I like pain.

“That’s great. Stop me the second it gets to be too much. There’s no shame in tapping out.” Then she slapped me in the backs of the thighs. It made me flinch, but it wasn’t so bad. She moved up gradually, alternating legs until she started hitting the raw, tender flesh of my ass. I bit my lip, then bit down on the headrest, trying not to scream. All those ponies down there had been looking down their noses at me a week ago. I didn’t want them to see me as weak. I mean sure, I’d yelped a little at first — that had been surprise more than pain, I swear. But Derpythia wasn’t letting up, and the beating was starting to seriously hurt.

I focused on the pain — the constant burning of the skin of my ass, punctuated by sharp, rapid blows. Pain is funny — of you try to ignore it, or will it away, it just gets worse. If you accept it, and go into it, it becomes part of you. It doesn’t hurt any less. It’s just… there. It becomes easier to bear.

“This one’s a tough nut to crack, isn’t she?” said Derpythia to the crowd. They chuckled. This was followed by a swat right against my tailhole. I clamped down my tail, and it was lifted aside, followed by a quick smack to the dock. “None of that, now,” said Derpythia.

And this was what I deserved, wasn’t it? If you looked at things one way, I’d been given an opportunity to do magnificent things, and I’d squandered it. Rarity was injured, and Daddy was still dead. If you looked at things from another point of view, I was obsessed with a drug hallucination. Either way, not too impressive. And Rarity? Not only had I gotten her shot, but I’d ruined her social life as well. I’d made a fool out of her at Toola’s opening, and caused trouble between her and Sassy Saddles. Rarity would have been better off if she’d never met me.

The pain increased with every blow. Derpythia seemed like a kind and compassionate mare, but I think I might be frustrating her with my unwillingness to cry out. Her crop slammed into my right cutie mark, then into the one of the left. I ground my teeth. The cutie mark isn’t any more sensitive than the surrounding skin, but they’re a big part of who you are. Being hit there is frightening and humiliating, so naturally it’s wonderful as part of a spanking. But I felt like I deserved it. If she whipped them off my body, it would be too good for me. Anyway, what was a spanking, compared to a bullet in the chest?

I heard something snap. I felt something wet on my bottom. I must be enjoying this, then. But suddenly hooves were unbuckling me, and I was being helped onto all fours. What was happening? I looked at Derpythia. She was staring at the red on the broken end of her crop with horror in her pretty, crooked eyes.

“I don’t know what went wrong,” she whispered.

The audience was watching at us in shocked silence. They’d been looking for a victim. A scapegoat. I’d showed them, hadn’t I? I felt a rush of pride. Then I looked at the spots of blood on the stage and I felt my legs get weak. Derpythia was a phlebotomist after all. I squinted my eyes shut as Rarity and Toola guided me from the stage.

———
There were private rooms after all. I lay spread out on cushions while Toola dabbed alcohol on my ass. Rarity sat with her muzzle against mine.

“I’m thorry,” I said.

“Heavens, what for?” said Toola. “We’re the ones who whipped you until you bleed for our own amusement.” She didn’t sound terribly remorseful. “Did you see the looks on their faces? You were a masterpiece of terror and pity. They’ll be talking about you for months. For Faust’s sake you freaked out a professional dom!”

“Are you really all right, Frazzle, dear?” said Rarity, stroking my face.

“My ath ith fine. I’ll be thtanding at work tomorrow, but that was kind of what I was hoping for. It’th just…” I sighed. “Rarity, I’m not a good pony. I felt like I could have saved you. That bullet was meant for me. I can’t really explain how, but I know it. I felt it hitting me. I felt like I wath going to die. I don’t know if you thaw, but I had a thtone ashtray. I threw it at Flim, and not Flam.”

Rarity raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see the problem, darling.”

I took a deep breath, and explained what I’d seen when I’d taken the crystal math. I felt insane, but it was what I’d felt, whether it was real or not. I didn’t look at Rarity as I spoke, but when I was finished I could see that she had drawn herself up stiffly. I winced, and hid my face in the cushioned floor. “If you never want to thee me again, it’s okay,” I said.

“Frazzle Eleanor Rock,” said Rarity, “You are never to attempt to sacrifice yourself for me again, do you understand? How do you think I would feel if you died?”

I looked up from the cushions and squinted at Rarity. “I gueth you’d feel pretty upset?”

“Frazzle, I would be devastated. I would happily have lost this leg to keep you alive and whole. Though…” she frowned. “That would make it very difficult to sew. But still! I love you darling!”

“I thought you were mad, at me, though,” I said. “You know, because I’m ugly, and smoke too much pot, and your friends don’t like me.”

“Love and anger are hardly mutually exclusive, Fraz,” said Toola. “What are you, six? Oh, by the way, what do you want for band-aids? I have… looks like puppies, and bunnies.”

“Bunnies please,” I said.

Rarity stroked my cheek. “We do need to do something about your self esteem, dear. Anyhow, I thought we’d agreed not to speak of our little fight again. I was very much in the wrong, but I have already apologized.” She glanced back at Toola, and bit her lower lip. “So… Frazzle, dear… I have a confession of my own to make. I have not been unfaithful to you, but I am simply dreadful at monogamy. And we are at an orgy.”

My heart sank. “Who do you want to have thex with?”

“It’s more a matter of who wants to have sex with you, dearest heart.”

I felt my tail being cautiously lifted. I glanced back, and Toola gave me a nervous smile. I blushed. “We could make a triangle,” I suggested.

“Give me a moment,” said Rarity. “My mobility is not what it usually is, after all.”

While Rarity struggled to get into position, Toola rolled my blood stained panties down around the tops of my thighs. Derpythia had given little attention to my pussy and plothole, so it didn’t sting too much when Toola licked me slowly from pubic fluff to dock. I bit the cushion beneath me and shifted my ass up in the air, but Toola’s mouth had vanished. That bitch! I heard giggling and wet noises from nearby, and looked to see that Rarity had her muzzle wedged in between Toola’s plump pink thighs. My heart began to race, and my hide tingled as anger and jealousy burned through me. I took a deep breath, and tried to calm myself. What had I been expecting? I had to admit that Rarity looked unbelievably hot. She was such an elegant and controlled mare! Seeing her with her muzzle buried halfway in another mare’s cunt, wet up to her eyes in pussy juices, was immensely satisfying. And the humiliation of being cheated on right in front of my face? Oh, I liked that.

Toola grabbed me by a hind leg and tugged. “Get your ass over here, sexy.”

Three hours later, we fell asleep in a pile, jaws aching and hearts happy.

The Goddess and the Father

The palace was silent. I have no idea what it’s like in the daytime, but it’s creepy at night. The cheeriness of the purple marble and crimson decorations only make it seem more desolate when it’s empty. I followed the night guard through the corridors, our hoofsteps echoing on the marble. We approached a pair of massive golden doors — the entrance to the throne room — but we turned aside from them and headed off down a side corridor.

“Her Highness does not receive supplicants in the throne room. She remains displeased that her throne was removed,” the armored thestral said without being asked. From the tone of his voice he didn’t approve either. We climbed a narrow spiral staircase that went up about twelve miles. Okay, probably not really twelve miles, but that was what it felt like when I got to the top. The guard gave me a moment to catch my breath.

It had been three weeks since the orgy. Rarity had gone back to Ponyville, and we hadn't seen her much during that time, but I was taking a train to see her this weekend. I felt like there were some things I needed to take care of before we met again.

“Ready?” asked the guard.

I adjusted my bow tie and nodded. We were in a windowless room made of dark marble, lit by blue light from an uncertain source. The guard unbuckled his spear and rapped its butt on the floor. The doors opened inward, apparently of their own accord. He nodded me inside.

Luna’s audience chamber was surprisingly cozy. It was small, hung with star chart tapestries, and lit by strange blue rocks in braziers along the walls. Luna sat on a dark blue cushion in front of the room’s one window. There was a delftware tea set on a low table in front of her.

I bowed, extending one leg in front of me. “Your Highneth.”

“Sit, please.” She levitated the teapot. “Would you care for a drink? It is chamomile. We find that if we have caffeine at this time of night, we are up until all hours of the day.”

“Yes pleathe.” I took a seat on the cushion on the far side of the table. I’d never been this close to her or her sister before. She was massive — half again my size. Her face was serenely beautiful. Sitting this close I could see that her magnificent cloud of mane was a mass of curling, twisting tendrils of hair. I was tempted to ask what her secret was, but I suspected the answer was ‘being an immortal alicorn princess’.

“Honey?” asked Luna.

“Thank you.”

Luna floated my cup over and set it on the table in front of me. I leaned forward to politely lap up a couple of mouthfuls.

“It is rare to find a pony who knows the Old Ways,” she said.

“My mother used to tell me about the Princeth of Dreamth, and how if you wrote her a letter and read it to yourthelf before you fell athleep, she’d grant your wish. I thuspected the thtory might be about you,” I said.

She nodded. “Earth ponies have long memories.” I assume she meant collectively; personally I could barely remember what I’d had for lunch yesterday. “As for your wish…” said Luna.

I glanced downward. “Yeth, well, I…”

She held up a hoof. “We have examined your dreams. We know your desires better than you do yourself. It must have been hard for you to see your father again after so long,” said Luna.

I looked up. I realized my cheeks were wet. I nodded.

“We must tell you a hard truth. You cannot bring him back, even with the scrying crystals. I know you wish to try again, but it would only do you harm. Death is jealous. It is one of the things that magic cannot alter, even with time travel.”

I picked up a napkin and dabbed at my eyes. I didn’t want to cry in front of the princess, but it seemed to be happening anyway. She made no move to comfort me, but she seemed content to wait until I was done.

When my sobs grew quiet, Luna spoke again. “We can show him to you again, if you like. But we must warn you that we can only do this once, and we cannot promise it will bring you any comfort.”

“But it would it be real, or only a dream?” I said.

Luna gave me a wry smile. “Are you really asking us that, little one? The realm of dream and the realm of death are very closely linked. It would be a dream, but it would be a true one.”

I raised my head. “I want to thee.”

Luna nodded. “Very well. Come with us.”

We were standing outside a bar. I didn’t remember traveling there. It was a low place. It had stone walls and barred windows, like a prison. The noises from inside were loud and happy, but it was a brittle happiness that could easily break into anger or despair.

“This is the last chance to change your mind, little one.”

“No,” I said firmly.

“Very well.” Luna spread her wings, and was gone. I showed the bouncer outside the door my ID, and went inside. The bar was smoky, and full of light and noise. Wood rafters ran across the bare stone ceiling. It was crowded with mares and stallions, smoking, drinking, and talking. It wasn’t so different from Buckowski’s, but it made me feel funny to think that my daddy might be in a place like this. But there he was, over by the pool table, talking loudly with his foreleg draped around the shoulders of a mare who wasn’t my mother. I looked away from him and wriggled my way through the ponies blocking the bar.

“What can I get you, sugarcube?” said the bartender.

“Rum and… you know what? Just rum. Better give me the bottle.”

The next thing I knew, I was in a corner booth staring at my father. Did I really expect he’d be so different from me? And he was dead, so I could hardly expect him to be faithful to Mom. He sure did drink a lot though. I never drank like that.

I looked at the three shots in my three hooves. I tried to get one of them to my mouth, but wound up spilling most of it on my sweater vest. How was I this drunk already? It was my second drink! It wasn’t fair.

I looked towards the pool table again. Daddy was gone. Where was he?

“Hey, sweet little thing. What’re you doing drinking alone in a place like this?”

“Getting liquor on mythelf,” I said. Shit, he didn’t recognize me.

“Can I buy you another drink?” said Daddy.

“I’m good,” I said, pointing at my bottle of rum, “but if you want to thit and help me finish it, you can.”

He settled his massive body in next to me. He had to push the table over to get his chest in. I slid against his side and inhaled the smell of sweat, deodorant, cologne, and beer. It stirred memories, and made my hooves curl. Don’t judge me.

“You have a funny accent. Where you from?” he said, taking a shot straight from the bottle, and holding the bottle out for me. I held my shot glasses out in my hooves, trying to keep all three of them steady, and he frowned. “Maybe you’ve had enough.”

“I had one thot!” I set my glass down on what I thought was its bottom and it rolled off the table.

Daddy moved the bottle away. “Seriously, though, where are you from?”

“It not an acthent. It’th a thpeach impediment,” I said, avoiding the question. I looked up at his big, dumb, blocky face and squeezed my thighs together. Don’t judge me. Don’t! I know you’re doing it! Stop judging me.

“Oh. I’m awful sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he looked away, blushing.

“It’th fine. Don’t I look a little familiar to you, though?” I fluttered my eyelashes at him. He looked down at me, confused. I watched his eyes go from narrow to wide open. He whipped his foreleg out from around me and put it in his lap with his other one, like he was trying to hide something.

“Oh, sweet Faust,” he murmured.

“I’m thorry,” I said with a smile on my face. “I wath just having fun with you. I turned out gay.” Sure, I was straight for Daddy, but there are some things your parents never need to know about you, and I’m pretty sure that was one.

“That’s… that’s fine. Oh… oh my Faust little sprout, I missed you so damned much.” He grabbed me and squeezed so hard my ribs creaked. The table tilted up a little away from us when he took his legs out of his lap. I giggled, even though my cheeks were getting wet again.

Suddenly he pushed me back with his hooves on my shoulders. The table fell down with a slam. The rum bottle wobbled. “Oh, little sprout, you’re dead!”

“No. I’m fine. Luna came back, Daddy! She sent me here to see you.”

“Wow. Who knew.” He rubbed at his orange forelock. “I’m sorry I missed that. You know the Princess?”

“Not really. I pulled thome thtrings. I work for the CGS! I know ponieth.”

“Damn. I’m proud of you, little sprout.”

“Ith it bad, being dead?” I pushed my hoof against his.

“It ain’t good, it ain’t bad. It’s just… dead, you know?” He shook his head. “Nothing ever changes when you’re dead.”

“I miss you,” I said.

“I miss you, too. That never changes, either. I’m sorry I died.”

“Nothing we can do about it. Trutht me. I tried.”

He raised an eyebrow, but it was too much to explain so I didn’t say anything. “So now what?”

“I don’t know. Who are your friendth?” I smiled up at him.

“No idea,” he grinned. “You wanna play some pool?”

“Do I! I’ll wipe the floor with your ath, Daddy.”

———

It was later. I didn’t know how long we’d been talking and playing pool. Daddy had kept drinking, and somehow I’d gotten ahold of a joint at some point, but now we were walking in silence on a stone road past a gray and sullen reservoir, both dead sober.

“So is there anypony special? Lesbian or not, your mom’s gonna want some grandkids,” he said.

“She knowth where foalth come from, right?”

“There are options. You could get a friend to fill up one of those baster things,” he said with a smirk.

“Ewww!” I laughed and wrinkled up my nose.

“I’m just having fun with you. Seriously, though, you got a marefriend?”

I nodded. “Yeah… she’s… amazing. But difficult. And I really hate some of her friendth.”

He shook his head. “Don’t settle, little sprout.”

“Is it really settling if they’re way out of your league?”

“It can be. Anyway, there ain’t nopony who’s out of your league, little sprout. I don’t care if she’s Princess Luna, she’s damn lucky to have you.”

“Daddy,” I whispered, standing on my hind hooves and wrapping my forelegs around his neck. “I love you.”

He squeezed me. “I love you too, little sprout. But I think you gotta go now.”

I frowned. “Yeah, it feels like time to go. I wish I could see you again.”

“I miss you sprout, but I don’t wanna see you around here for a long time, you understand? We can play some more pool when you get back, but you’d better be a little old mare, okay?”

I laughed and kissed him on the mouth. Mouth closed, I swear. Then I sat up in bed. My letter to Luna fell off my chest. The light of dawn was just beginning to creep through the dirty glass of my bedroom window, but my roommates were already up and arguing. My pillow was wet and my throat was dry, but I felt pretty good — like I’d been scrubbed clean inside.

I threw off the sheets and got out of bed. I needed to talk to Maud.

Maud

I knocked on Maud’s door. She opened it right up, as though she’d been waiting for me. She was dressed, and it smelled like she was cooking.

“Maud, we need to talk.”

“I know,” she said. “I made coffee and a whole box of hay fritters. Come in.”

Pie sense. Earth pony magic is awesome.

I sat down next to the blanket on the floor, and gave Boulder a pat. Maud set my coffee and the hay fritters in front of me and sat down herself.

“How did your audience go?” said Maud.

“It worked!” I said. “It really worked.” I poked half-heartedly at a hay fritter. “But it didn’t help. I got to thee my dad. But he can’t come back.”

“I’m sorry,” said Maud, looking sad. Like, actually looking sad, which is a big deal for Maud.

“It’s okay.” I took a sip of my coffee. Maud got up and sat next to me. She didn’t say anything. If there’s anything Maud is good at — which there is, she’s good at lots of things, actually — but if there’s one thing she’s especially good at, it’s knowing when to keep her mouth shut.

“Maud?” I said after a while.

“Yes?”

I tried to talk, but the words caught on the lump in my throat. “Maud… I… I…” I couldn’t say it! It was the kind of statement that was both monstrously important, and likely to go horribly, irreversibly wrong. The courage and conviction I’d felt upon waking up were rapidly abandoning me.

She patted my hoof. “Say what you need to say, Frazzle. I won’t judge you.”

I took a deep breath. “Maud, I love you.” It was out. It couldn’t be unsaid, but on the bright side I might never need to say it again. No, wait, that wasn’t a bright side.

“I know,” said Maud.

“Wait, you know?” I blinked. She knew. How did she know? Wait, I had tried to kiss her a few weeks ago.

“You’re always staring at my plot,” she said with a little half-smirk.

She’d noticed. Buck. And I thought I’d been so sneaky about it. I tried to talk. My mouth wouldn’t work. I picked up my coffee. My hoof was shaking so hard I couldn’t get it to my lips. I put it back down.

“Do you feel the thame way?” I asked.

“I really like you. And you’re very beautiful.”

I glared at her. “But you don’t love me.”

“I don’t know, Frazzle,” said Maud. “If you’d asked at another time, I’d have given it a try. But you’re clearly in love with Rarity.”

“I don’t think she really loveth me.”

Maud narrowed her eyes at me and gave a little snort. “You’ve seen what she’s been through to be with you. Do you think she likes being mocked and socially ostracized?”

My mouth worked soundlessly for a moment. I hadn’t thought about it that way.

Maud went on. “And she’s been good for you. Really good. You stand up for yourself more now.”

“I’m afraid she’ll want to change me.”

Maud wrinkled up her nose. “Wanting you to present yourself better isn’t the same as changing who you are.”

I slumped sulkily. “I’m not convinthed of that.”

“I think you should stay with her.”

I gritted my teeth. Dating Rarity was stressing me out! Maud was supposed to be my exit strategy. What the heck was she doing? Desperate to save my half-assed seduction, I leaned over for a kiss. I found a hoof on the end of my nose.

“Frazzle, no.”

I ducked my head and whimpered.

“Are you going to see her this weekend?” she said.

“Yes. I’m going to Ponyville.”

“You need to talk this out with her.” She put her hoof over my mouth, and kissed me on the cheek. The hoof-on-mouth thing made me kind of excited; I don’t think Maud realized what a sub I was. “Now eat your fritters. You’re going to be hungry at work if you don’t.”

My Fair Pony, Part 1

They were waiting for me at the train station.

“I believe you’ve met Dusk Shine?” said Rarity. She was out of her cast by now, and only had a thin pink scar to remind me of my failure.

“Yeth. Briefly.” I squinted at the purple unicorn stallion, who was wearing a heavy red cloak in warm weather. There was something weird about him.

Twilight said, “Rarity has arranged an opportunity for you. We’ll need to discuss it in private, though.” She leaned over, looking around the train platform with exaggerated caution. “It’s classified,” she said in a loud whisper.

“Would you like to get settled in first, darling?” said Rarity. “I wouldn’t have sprung this on you so suddenly, but Doctor Dusk’s availability is somewhat limited.”

“No,” I said. “I have to know what thith is about.” If this was about Rarity trying to ‘fix’ me, I was going to be pissed.

Twilight took us to what she called her conjuring room — a large, open basement directly underneath her palace. Even though it was huge, it was so full of books, boxes, and various pieces of magical and scientific equipment that there was barely room to draw a magic circle. I was lying on a dentist’s chair that Twilight happened to have for some reason, and Dusk Shine was staring in my mouth. He had his cloak off and his wings were out. They’d explained to me who he was, where he was from, and what he’d agreed to do for me. I was overawed, to say the least.

“She definitely has an overbite, and I’d say it’s probably at least contributing to her sigmatism.”

I nodded. “I’ve had thpeach therapy; it didn’t help much.” I remembered who I was talking to, and added, “Your Highneth.” It came out a little resentful. I’d been right. Rarity was trying to fix me. I was pissed. I was trying not to show it, though. I didn’t want to offend the princess and the prince.

“It would be trivial to correct,” said Dusk, turning his attention to the exterior of my muzzle. “A few simple shaping spells on the bone, muscles, and connecting tissue, done in a Hopper’s circle to make them permanent. Pain would be minimal. I’d recommend checking in with Twilight once a week or so for the next month to make sure the spell is holding. Which it will, but better safe than sorry.”

“Is there any chance it could go wrong?” asked Rarity.

Dusk raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want to sound conceited, but I’d be more likely to seriously injure myself while flossing my teeth.”

I could see that. I always had a hard time getting the floss around my hooves.

Twilight nodded. “I can’t speak for Dusk, but… okay, I know it seems like I’m making devastating magical errors every other week, but that’s doing weird, complicated stuff. I hardly even have to think about basic stuff like this.”

Dusk puffed out his chest fluff. “Yeah. We’re objectively, certifiably geniuses. I’m not even bragging. It’s just a fact — we don’t make mistakes.”

Twilight grimaced. “We kind’a do make mistakes, though.”

Dusk frowned, but didn’t deflate. “Okay, we do. We make awesome mistakes.” Twilight nodded in agreement.

Rarity tapped one forehoof against the floor anxiously. “So, Frazzle, dearest heart, what do you think?”

I laid my head down on the headrest and closed my eyes. Why was I so offended? Rarity was only trying to help me. I know it seems ungrateful, but this is exactly what I’d been worrying about on the train home from that first amazing week. She had the instinct to perfect, and the desire to show off. I’d been afraid she’d try and make me into the kind of mare people expected her to be seen with, and now it was starting.

And yet I had to admit my lisp was a curse. It held me back in life by blocking my voice and sapping my self confidence. I would love to have it gone. Orthodonture had been beyond the means of a widowed mother trying to run a farm by herself, and I was still paying off school loans, so it’d be a long time before I’d be able to get it done for myself. Not to mention I wasn’t excited about going through years of braces and retainers as an adult.

Now Prince Dusk was saying he could fix it all as easily as clapping his hooves.

“Frazzle?” said Rarity. I realized I’d been quiet for several minutes.

Buck it. What did I have to lose? I looked up at Dusk. “Let’th do thith.”

———

The Hopper’s circle wasn't circular at all; it was a large pentagon with a lot of weird geometric shapes drawn around it at various distances. A little spark of static electricity shocked me when my hoof touched it.

“Ouch!” I said, waving my hoof.

“Please try not to mess up the lines!” said Dusk, hurrying over with a piece of chalk.

After he’d redrawn the part my hoof had smudged, I stepped over the lines and into the center of the circle. Every hair on my body stood on end. Things outside the circle had prismatic auras — at first I thought there was something wrong with my glasses, but the auras were still there when I took them off. I bit my lower lip. Unicorn magic was freaky and unnatural.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“Just sit still,” said Dusk. “Is the analgesic spell ready, Twilight?”

Twilight’s horn flared, and my face felt numb. “Yep,” she said.

“All right. This will only take a second.”

Dusk’s horn glowed, and I saw my muzzle changing shape in front of my eyes. It was subtle, but noticeable. I tried not to scream — I was afraid that if I did my face would freeze that way. My muzzle was completely numb, but I could feel a deep, sickening pain in the bones of my skull as things they were anchored to shifted around. I would hardly have called the pain “minimal”, but it was over quickly. Twilight and Dusk’s horns went dark, and I could feel my face again. It ached a little. Things felt ever so slightly out of place. I probed my incisors with my tongue. Definitely smaller. Lower jaw definitely further forward.

I tried talking. “Sibilance. Salubrious. Sanctuary. Sobriety. Sorcery. Solstice.” My eyes sprang wide open. “Oh my gosh!” Without those big buck teeth getting in the way, I could actually talk! My tongue wanted to keep tucking itself behind my top incisors, but it was easy enough to fix if I concentrated, and I was sure it would soon become second nature.

This… was… incredible. So much more than I’d imagined it would be. Why had I been so angry? Why had I doubted the best marefriend in the universe? I pronked out of the magic circle and squeezed the living daylights out of Rarity.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” I squealed.

“You’re quite welcome darling,” she said, pushing a hoof in between my foreleg and her windpipe. “It was nothing, really.”

I let her go, and I bounced around the room, breaking into a brief musical number. “I can talk, I can talk, I can talk!” I sang.

Dusk was grinning like he’d just gotten laid. Twilight hugged him and nuzzled him, beaming with sororal pride. “Way to go, staff counterpart!” He nuzzled back, and the nuzzling began to get slower. The hug didn’t stop. I suddenly felt very awkward.

“I think perhaps it would be best if we adjourned,” suggested Rarity, whispering in my ear.

“Yes. Yes it would,” I said, and we collected my bags and went back to her place.

———

A short while later we were sitting on her bed side by side, exploring my new mouth together. After a while her kisses began to become more hesitant, and eventually she pulled back. I scooped up the thread of drool linking our lips with my tongue and sucked it into my mouth. Yeah, I’m gross. I’ll own it.

“There is something about me we haven’t discussed. A secret I have kept from you,” she said.

Celestia help me, if this is when the old pedo broke out her collection of foal porn, I was on the next train back to Canterlot. “Don’t worry, I won’t judge you,” I lied.

Rarity nodded. “Scarf?”

I reached for my neck. What? I wasn’t wearing a scarf. I wasn’t even wearing a bow tie. What was she talking about? Then I noticed something red moving in the corner of my vision. I jumped, and turned. There was the mannequin she always had in her room with the jumbo-sized scarf around its neck. The scarf had fallen off it, and was crawling towards us. I looked at Rarity. Her horn wasn’t glowing.

“Are you doing that? Please tell me you’re doing that.” I said.

“I am not,” said Rarity.

The scarf crawled up onto the bed to curl up next to Rarity, like a python at the zoo stirring to collect its dinner.

I scooted my bum across the bed until I fetched up against the headboard. “What is that thing?”

The scarf pushed one end against her belly, and Rarity stroked it lovingly, as though she were caressing the neck of a favorite dog. “Darling please, you’ll hurt his feelings.” She pulled it into her lap; its coils overflowed her soft thighs and tumbled onto the bed around her. “Scarf is a special friend of mine. He has shown me many things.” The end of the scarf slid sensually up her chest, and she began to lick it’s tassels. “He is… he is my Master.”

The scarf — or Scarf, I guess — bunched himself up and pressed himself into Rarity’s mouth, stretching open her lips and filling her cheeks. She closed her eyes, and he began to move back and forth inside her muzzle. I gulped. What was I even watching? This was insane. Insane, but kind of hot. The other end of the scarf slinked towards me and slid up over my thigh. I raised an eyebrow. Aggressive, greedy, and entitled. Rarity was right to call it a ‘he’.

“Watch it, pal. I haven’t made up my mind about you.” He slipped back apologetically.

Scarf coiled around Rarity, showing an acute awareness of the lusciousness of her hips and croup. The end that had been in her mouth slid out, dripping wet, and wrapped around her neck. He pulled her down face first, her muzzle nestled amongst the sheets, and her rump high in the air in a position of obscene submission. I felt an angry pulse of jealousy in my heart — jealous both of Scarf, and of Rarity. I sighed, and doffed my glasses. It looked like I was going along with this insanity. I rose up on my hind knees, and pulled my shirt and sweater vest up over my head. The end of scarf that had been caressing Rarity’s haunches rose up and regarded me with interest. At least, I thought that was what was happening. Without my glasses they were just a white and red blur. I nodded, and arranged myself with as much dignity as I could next to Rarity, in the same humiliating pose.

“Oh Frazzle,” moaned Rarity. She looped her hoof over mine, and began to kiss me. Scarf put an end to that — he moved like a striking snake, flashing around my body, pulling my mouth away from Rarity’s and lashing us together, side to side, flank to flank, cheek to cheek. I gasped in surprise and fear. My heart raced. What was this thing? Had Rarity thought things through when she’d taken it for a lover?

“If I might be so bold, I think that Scarf would like us to know that he is in charge here,” said Rarity, her voice shaky with lust and fear.

A coil of scarf wrapped around my fetlock, and tapped my forehoof on the bed three times. I nodded, my cheek rubbing against Rarity’s.

“Are you sure you are comfortable with this, darling? I know it’s rather unusual.”

Buck it. I wasn’t chickening out of anything this weird. “Don’t worry about me. I’m good.”

The coils shifted again, and suddenly there was a loop gagging my and Rarity’s mouths. The silk pulled back our cheeks, and held down our tongues. No more chit chat. One end of the scarf was on my plot, and I could safely assume from the way Rarity was groaning into her red gag that he was caressing her rump as well.

I inhaled deeply and slowly through my nose, trying to calm down and enjoy myself. I could feel Rarity’s ribs pressing against my side. Her ragged breath and rapid heartbeat vibrated through me. My right legs and her left legs were tied together. Any move she made, I felt. Her breath was hot against my mouth. We were like conjoined twins, or like warriors fighting side by side in a phalanx. But as close as I felt to Rarity, I felt strangely distant about Scarf’s caresses. His silky body rolled over my plot, the tassels tickling the inside of my crack, and it felt good, but it just wasn’t doing that much for me. Maybe it was because I’d been thinking of him as male, or maybe I just wasn’t that into scarves.

His end lifted off of my rump. I strained and twisted, trying to see what he was doing. The coils around Rarity’s cheek and through her mouth dug into her flesh, making her groan in pain. When I noticed this, I bit down on the gag and tugged harder. I felt a hot tingling between my hind legs — being cruel to the mistress who had so often been so deliciously wretched to me gave me an evil thrill.

But all of that was driven out of my mind when scarf came down on one of my cheeks with unbelievable force. He had somehow made the last couple hoof-lengths of his end stiff and hard as a board. Pain sang through my rump, and I screamed into Scarf’s body. The blow was followed by a half dozen others just like it. I felt and heard Rarity receiving the same treatment. A single tear trickled out of her eye, and dispersed itself into Scarf’s coils and my cheek fur.

I found I had changed my mind. Scarf was amazing.

He wrapped up my dock, and jerked my tail back as far as it would go, then aimed a flurry of blows at my ass, my cutie marks, and the back of my thighs. I bit down on my gag, grunting at every blow, loving the hot, burning pain that followed each slap. I could feel Rarity’s haunches jiggling against mine as she got her punishment.

She was a screamer — she wailed into Scarf’s body every time he struck her ass. “Mnnnnnh! Mnnnngh! Mnnnngh!” Just like that. The right side of my muzzle was soaked with her spit, and my cheek was soaked with her tears. The tears made me uncomfortable, and I started to worry about her. I tapped my left hoof against the bed three times. Scarf, wrapped around my fetlock as he was, felt it and stopped immediately. That was good — you’d better believe I was watching and judging him to see if he was safe for my Rarity.

Both ends lifted themselves towards our faces.

“Why did you stop, Scarf?” She rolled her eyes towards me, the pupil and iris a blue and black blur at this range. She was so close that I could make out the pink smudges that must be the veins in the corners of her eyes. “Frazzle, are you all right, dearest heart?”

“I wath… I was checking on you. You were scaring me.” She wasn’t the only thing that was scaring me. I was starting to feel claustrophobic, trussed up against her like this. I wasn’t going to chicken out, though. I wasn’t.

I felt, rather than saw, Rarity smile. “Oh, poor Frazzle dear. I suppose you haven’t seen me in my submissive mode before, have you? I can be rather demonstrative. Scarf, perhaps more conventional affections are in order this afternoon.”

Scarf bobbed both his ends in agreement. When I had signaled my readiness, he gagged us again and returned his attention to our hindquarters. He was much more gentle, this time, and much more intimate. I shuddered against Rarity as silky folds caressed my plothole and my quim at the same time. He spread out to his full width, sliding all over the inside of my cheeks. I groaned into him, and Rarity groaned, too. I could have stood to be spanked more, but this was delightful.

He gave me a gentle swat on my pussy, and teased my lips with his tassels. I twisted against Rarity, straining against his serpentine embrace. The knot of a tassel found my clit, and began to rub against it. Gently. Too gently. The pleasure was exquisite, but the touches far too light — the joy would have been even more intense if he would… just… push… harder. Then he pulled away. I wailed with frustration, and Rarity did, too.

A few seconds later, he was back, but with a difference. He’d formed a fat, long knot a few hooves up his length, and found a way to slick it up. That knot went under my tail. I groaned, and pushed down, flaring open my tailhole. Yes. Anal play. So good. I saw Rarity’s eyes pop open as he pushed through her little rosebud, and I almost choked laughing.

Our bonds tightened. His improvised cock pushed into me, spreading out inside and making me feel deliciously full. That knot was back at my clit, rubbing hard this time. I gave myself up to being used — the pleasure was pure, hot, and relentless. It didn’t take long for him to make me come the first time — the knot drove me expertly to an orgasm that made my eyes roll up into my head and that left me shaking when it passed. My jaw ached from biting down on Scarf. I hoped I wasn’t hurting him. When I’d finished coming, I realized Rarity was about to orgasm. Her flanks and thighs shook against me, harder and harder. She tightened all her muscles, making my bonds dig into me painfully. When she found the breath to let out a muffled scream, it drove me mad with lust. Scarf hit me with a perfectly timed grind against my clit, and another wave of heat and fire pulsed through me. Rarity started to come again before I was even done, and that wasn’t the last time for either of us. By the time Scarf loosened around me, I was a limp rag. Rarity rolled over to face me, kissing me over and over again, our soft barrels heaving against each other. That had been so much fun!

Then I noticed Scarf was coiled up between us, mysteriously clean and dry, but unmoving.

“Is he okay?” I asked.

“He’s fine I think,” said Rarity, stroking him. “He gets tired after a while. I think he might be very old.”

“Have you had Twilight look at him?”

Rarity looked frightened. “Oh, no! She… well, she does mean well, but she gets very curious sometimes. I’m afraid she might hurt him.”

I reached between us, stroking both Scarf’s silky body and Rarity’s hoof. “You might want to risk it. I can see you care for him. It would be terrible if anything happened to him. You might not even know until it was too late.”

A look of fear flickered across Rarity’s face. “I suppose you’re right. I will bring him to Twilight, if he allows it.”

Oh dear. I’d made her sad. I needed to distract her. I rubbed my lips against hers. Our mouths opened. We kissed until our tongues felt limp and tingling. Then we lay side by side. After a while, her cat Opal hopped on the pillows at the head of the bed and stared at us. It must be feeding time.