Fractures

Sex with Maud Pie is a little weird.

Don't get me wrong, you've dated her for quite awhile. A relationship with her is relaxing after dating some of the other mares in Ponyville. She's just so chill. Cool as a cucumber. Some of the other mares will wilt like a flower in heat at the slightest anxious event. Heck, that Roseluck mare fell over like a startled goat when you went around a corner too fast.

Except, there’s still one little problem with Maud. That is, she can be a bit too cool sometimes.

After the first time the two of you had sex, you had to have a serious sit down discussion with her about showing what you're feeling during sex. Like, you love her, but you felt like you were fucking a sex doll. She just... stared at you, and...

Well that's not the point. And believe it or not, sex isn't what your story is about. Not exactly.

You're sitting at the kitchen table with your marefriend. She's talking about her rock excavation dig, which you listen in and out of. She told you once before that you didn't have to like or follow every little detail of her expeditions. And you recognized how awesome it was when she once found a diamond deposit. And you also recognize how easy it is for her to make bits with her work. Like, holy shit.

No, she's not your sugar momma. At least, you keep telling yourself that.

Honestly though? Rocks get kind of boring after awhile. So, she tolerates your things that she’s not a fan of, and you tolerate… rocks.

"Anon," Maud says as flatly as ever. You nearly choke on your spaghetti. Like, the actual food. Not the turn of phrase. You choke down your food and take a sip of water, for fear of being caught not listening. Again.

"Yeah?" you reply, wondering if you were focusing on your own internal monologue for too long. Why do you always keep doing that? Get it together.

"I want to talk about something important, if that's alright with you."

"Of course!"

You're getting dumped.

No. Stop. Why do you always do that to yourself? Everytime a lady wants to talk about something, it doesn't mean you're getting dumped. Stop panicking. Having that much anxiety will lead you to an early grave.

"We've been going out for a very long time now..." she says, her voice trailing off.

Okay. You're definitely getting dumped. No. Stop. Shut up, brain. Let her speak.

"And I want to share something somewhat private with you. Then, ask for your help."

You swear, if you have pony AIDS now... this will be the second worst day of the month.

"Of course," you say, like a good boyfriend. Stallionfriend. Whatever. "I'm here for you, Maud. Let it out."

Maud pauses.

It was at this moment that you became concerned. If there's one thing you learned about Maud, it's that she says it like it is. There's no beating around the bush. She just says what's on her mind. No delicate phrases. No sweet talk. Just blunt meaning. And right now she's pausing to think and choose her words.

This is serious.

"I need you to help me express emotions," Maud says.

And now you sit up straight, genuinely concerned.

"Where's this coming from?" you ask. "Pinkie is always able to pick up on your emotions. I’ve had my own way of learning how you feel. Why does the way that you express feelings matter now?"

"Because the mailmare came to me to say that Father got hurt on the farm. And I didn't even shed a tear." Her eyes are vacant. You could almost say not much more than usual, but there was a shift in the air surrounding you two. You pause.

“I had no idea,” you mutter.

"I've had a lot of weird looks before. I'm used to them. They don't bother me. But this bothered me. The mailmare looked as if I were heartless. Like she prepared to deliver the bad news and knew it would shatter somepony. And when I didn’t, her reaction hurt me. I'm hurting. And... I feel like my whole body is about to burst at any moment, but I can't. I can’t break."

The gravity of the situation begins to seep into your thick skull. You were making fun of this earlier. The way she acts... How she feels... What kind of callous person are you?

On the bright side, you aren't getting dumped. But right now that’s not important.

In fact, now that you think about it, her actions are showing immense trust. Maud almost never talks about her feelings. Not… well, her deepest feelings. Let alone feel guilty for who she is. How she is.

"Okay," you say, getting right to the point. She always preferred when you got to brass tacks instead of trying to be gentle about sore subjects. "How can I help?"

Once again, Maud pauses. You take a moment to drink your water. Hoping it wouldn’t make her feel guilty for choosing her words.

"We've been having a lot of sex recently," she interjects.

You nearly spit out your drink. Instead, it goes down your lung the wrong way. See, this is the type of shit that a week from now, you'll laugh and joke about. Instead, it's you who got caught off guard by crass comments, rather than the other way around for a change.

"Is sex with me that bad?" she asks monotonously, almost hurt.

"No! I just," you clear your throat. "I wasn't expecting that."

"There's a reason I’m bringing this up. See, I've been doing a lot of research, and I've been listening to Rarity during girl's night. I want to try something new."

You pause, waiting for her to continue. She instead stares at you with that dead-eye glare that makes you wonder if you missed something important...

"Go on," you say.

"I want you to beat me until I cry," she says.

"Okay, no deal," you immediately say and rise to your feet.

Maud looks down to the table, wounded by your words. If it weren't for little quirks like these, it would be impossible to tell how she feels.

"Like," you continue. "I'm not going to punch you in the face, or break your hoof, or beat you up."

Maud's eyes look back up to you.

"Oh, well, that's a relief. I was thinking something similar to spanking anyway."

"Oh, well, that's not beating someone up," you say.

"But I thought the phrase was to kick somepony's butt."

"Yeah, but," you say, then pause. This isn't really a path you want to go down, or this will turn into some sort of Who's on First bullshit. "Yeah, I'll spank you. But we should do this right. And we need a safe word."

Maud glares at you, as usual, but rephrases her request.

"I want you to spank me until I cry."

You pause. This is... unreal. Does she really know what she’s asking for?

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice low, firm, and strong.

Maud remains silent for only a moment.

"Yes."