Diary of Sweetie Belle, 19

March 21st
Hi there,

Things are just about wrapping up. Woo! Yep, I can’t not be excited. Gonna get the bad stuff out of the way first before I get carried away.

The changing station, in all its slimy, glowing glory. It works, don’t be worried about that. As for it lighting up the bedroom at night, I’ve appropriated Honey’s chest as my night mask, so we’re fine there. But I’m not sure if whoever gives me the appearance guidelines has ever actually seen a pony? I’m exaggerating. Really, though. I’m salvaging this to the best of my ability, but what you’re forcing me to do is killing me. This belt and these heels... And you insist on this exact vest… And no hat to go with any of this? I have to ask for ~~more freed~~ this to loosen up. Come on, ~~I can’t even ex~~ you do know that I know a mare who is an expert in this stuff. I’m not as good, but no rookie either. Seriously, if you got me over here just cause I know that mare and you want to meet her, you don’t need to bother redesigning my visage very much. I can walk up to her with what you’ve got on me right now, and she’d faint. There, got her. I just can’t guarantee that she won’t actually die after seeing this ‘fashion’. Or try to kill you, that’s also possible. Basically: loosen the reins, please, or I’m gonna go out and net nobody looking like a dress up doll. I’ve attached a few sketches, I’m pretty sure they beat what you got in mind.

Moving on before I dig myself a grave. They say time flies, but I’ve basically lived a bit of a whole life over here. If you could do that sorta stuff over a month and a half all the time, I don’t even ~~kno~~ whatever, for Drone 44 or 59 or whoever reads my stuff: status_acceptable_subject_content_slight_excitement_detected_bleep_bloop. You guys make me miss Tough Break. Okay, not really. Well, you get what I mean.

Honey says I’m a prodigy and a rising star and yada-yada-yada. Roses in bed, dinner when I’m back from work, barefoot in the kitchen, evening footrubs, everything, pretty sure he thinks he’s my wife now. And it’s nice to be appreciated, all things considered. After today, though, I think I can finally almost really appreciate myself. Clunky way to say it, but you know what I mean. Ask Honey if you don’t, he says all of us went through this phase as well. Pretty sure I’m taping that week of March closed, sorry Diary, that stuff’s just not what I want to think about anymore. To make it obvious to you silly bloopers, last four days: like, that whole week: no like. That sucked. I mean, I’m okay with lots of vocal practice, training my abs and getting a new outfit (even if you’re making it suck, it actually looks kinda nice now that it’s fully formed and not fucking with me anymore!), but I don’t like having a beehive for a head.

Well, having offended Honey Pot in the most horrible of ways, I guess I can mark down my dastardly deeds for today and hope that you won’t lock up if I miswrite something. Blame your superiors, cause it’s them who still won’t free up my old memories from that dumb orgasm trigger. It’s not like I’m ever in need anymore with this stallion waiting for me at home, and you know I know how to bypass it by now. There I go, rambled, classic me. Let’s get to the meat of it then, shall we, Diary & Drones Inc.?

So the first thing to brighten the day was finally getting some action done, and on who! I know theory’s important, but I’m a smart girl and I’d have figured seduction myself. This, though…

…

Sweetie Belle passed slowly through the invisible barrier separating the chamber from the rest of the facility. The mare balanced skilfully on her high heels and adjusted well to the weight she’d added to her chest - plowing through the thick synaptic barrier was still an unpleasant, sloggy experience. She grunted, taking extreme effort not to be visibly frustrated with how janky the system was. It seemed highly implausible to her that segregating the augmented realities they created in these chambers from the rest of this place could only be done in such an inconvenient manner. Alas, at her current rank, all she could do was huff and shrug. After about three seconds of trying to appear graceful and succeeding, she was finally in the fresh new world the changelings had concocted for the victims.

“Whoo.... Jeez. Imaginative as always,” the unicorn mumbled to herself, straightening out her vest and fixing up the small diamond earrings that were yet to adjust to normal gravity. “Never noticed how bad the air conditioning was when I was in you guys’ place… Hey, what?”

Sweetie crossed her arms and leaned against a stone wall of what was probably supposed to be a dungeon, staring at a row of mares that were themselves staring at her. Or, well, only two of them were - Princess Luna’s eyes went from surprised to glaring, Sonata’s (whose name the unicorn had to memorize once again) being generally blinky and in a perpetual state of slight confusion. Pinkie Pie was, as always, an outlier, as her eyes were blindfolded. Really, most of her head was completely obscured by a muzzle and blindfold harness, two soft bibs poking out of her ears to add to the picture. The other two were only gagged, straps criss-crossing their snouts, and, in the alicorn’s case, being assisted by a set of muzzle binds holding her jaws together. The dressed-up, makeupped, jewelry-equipped unicorn shrugged and smiled slyly.

“What’s the big deal? You didn’t look this pissed since that one time when…” Sweetie Belle was interrupted by the combined gagged mumbling of at least two voices. One was Pinkie, who seemingly somehow learned of her presence in the room, and the other was Sonata, whom she could identify by the odd, slightly uneasy echo that her whining had. Princess Luna was just puffing her nostrils and growling silently. “Girls! What’s gotten into you?”

That particular phrase got the alicorn to give the restraints a test. The three mares were restrained in a similar fashion - sat in heavily padded, strap-laden chairs, entirely overdesigned and excessively intimidating-looking for objects that were conjured up for this specific session, wherein one pony was already blindfolded, for crying out loud. Their legs were bound down with belts, and their feet were restrained by heavy duty stocks with one hundred percent decorative, amusingly overdesigned locks hanging off the sides. Each mare’s arms were stretched out and restrained just as heavily as the legs - sort of a Y-shape.

Luna was once again a special case, her belts being far thicker and each ending in yet another padlock. Her abdomen wasn’t even held by leather - it was several padded metal rings that clasped around her chest, melding into the seat. Her horn received just as much attention, being covered in perhaps too much black chitin, even for that mare’s potency. Definitely a bit of overdoing on the design, especially the purely decorative padlock hanging off the side. Good thing this was all easily dissolvable by an experienced handler, or this’d actually be impossible to get out of. So however admirable her attempts were, they were mostly wasted strength and drained drones. She was pretty mad.

“Hey, I’ve been gone, like, a while, and I come back to this sorta stuff? Jeesh, I remember you being friendlier than that! What’s your proooblem?” she inquired, while exploring the tool cabinet - the only other item of furniture in the cobbled cell aside from the seats. The unicorn grimaced slightly, twirling a bit of lavasciously scented mane. Not only did she have to remember the right code for the right stuff to be summoned, but they didn’t even put a chair for her in there. And there were no manifestation codes for chairs! “Fine, I know you’re gagged. What am I gonna do about it? Like, that’s not even really a question, I’m pretty much in the moral right over here. This isn’t… reeeally how friends greet each other after they haven’t met for a while. I haven’t even done anything to you!”

Sweetie Belle fist-bumped in the air, while behind her a mixture of confused mumbling, loud puffing and echoey whining played its fairly dissonant music. Bad tunes, iffy design, lame thematic, lazy management - all not enough to screw up her memory. She was never this good with memorizing numbers in high school, but here she was. A long series of highly situation-dependent boops against different parts of a sorta disgusting amber formation that composed most of the tool cabinet, and she had what she needed to start with. When taking your first test for being an independent field agent, whose duties were to seduce, corrupt, convert and try out… Well, it sure was a good idea to not screw up getting the tools of the trade! The next good idea was to prove herself when it came to the raw physical part of this peculiar job.

“We were girl-friends and stuff. Didn’t we have a good time? Escape plans, all that jaaazzz…” the ravishing mare swirled herself around, jinglies on her decorative belt chiming as she did so, and a slightly used-looking box in one of her hands. “And then I’m gone, and now I’m back, and look-at-me! Well you girls are just jealous. Lemme say it again - I haven’t done anything to you…”

She lowered her eyes and poked at around the knees of her new jeans to pragmatically see if they were even gonna let her kneel, let alone squat. The mare’s sigh, which drew out the dramatic pause, was made even more genuine, because it was gonna be kneeling for her.

“...yet.”

Despite the veritable amount of cheese she detected in the way it came out, her acting talent appeared to be convincing enough. Her three ponymarefriends went rather still and quiet for a few seconds, two and a half pairs of eyes piercing through her (Pinkie’s were pretty palpable despite the blindfold). Success! She was an effectual mare.

Now it was time to be effective, and she had three very different ponies to screw with horribly. That was going to take all the skill she had. Some of it what she was taught in the preliminary stages of her agency, the past few days… but most of it, stuff she knew intimiately well through her own skin. And thanks to the industrious, if occasionally mismanaged, changelings, Sweetie Belle knew quite a lot about suffering under torturously tickly touches. And brushes. And what have you.

She could really use a chair, however, but alas, for all the vast and complex magickry the changelings hooked up in these chambers, there was no way to make one. Not conventionally. Fortunately, Sweetie was already nodding in grim determination. A spark off her horn and a very specific press of magical energy against the bulbous receiver in the tool cabinet, and a glowing amber shape began to manifest in the room. The mare checked its manifestation progress now and again while examining the contents of the box and making sure to show them off to the ponies at her disposal. They were all intimately familiar with all of these: things with spiky ends, things with brushy ends, things with pokey ends, things with hot ends, things with cold ends, things that squirted fun liquids… Yeah, it was fairly textbook, and fortunately fit inside the magically extended space within the box.

What was less conventional was the way their new tormentor was going about behaving herself with them, of course. She sighed and mock-giggled, shrugging to the three captives, when the object she’d summoned materialized. It wasn’t really an object, though.

“You wouldn’t believe this stuff. I can’t even get a chair! So, yeah, I’m not gonna sit on my knees. These jeans will actually make me bleed if I do that, I think. And besides… Let’s admit it, girls,” Sweetie Belle said, rolling her eyes and clicking her fingers, calling the drowsy changeling drone over and clicking her fingers, pointing to the ground. The autonomous semi-sentient creature actually sighed and covered its face up with a palm before getting on all fours and going blurry for a moment, shape shifting slightly to be a more convenient seat. The unicorn took her living chair, not without some grunting at the sub-optimal redesign they issued onto her, some inner vows of adjusting a lot of the sizing, and some gleeful recognition of the looks on the other mares’ faces. The drone was rather comfortable, too, now that it had made sure its back was devoid of those insectoid wings and holey bumps. “It’s not me who should be kneeling in front of anyone in this room. Just saying the truth as it is, girls… Saying the truth as it is.”

To a wide variety of muffled sounds, she grinned and drummed her fingers on her seat.

“Alright, so, who do I start with… And who do I save for last… and what do I… hmm.”

The unicorn’s stark green eyes pierced through each mare at her disposal. No doubts about it - they were all very, very appealing. Sonata didn’t look that bad at all in her underwear, though it did appear very curious that the pendant on her neck was allowed to remain - in fact, it barely even moved as she thrashed, giggling and humming with more and more confusion. Princess Luna need not even be described, there was a purely aesthetic draw to her harshly bound up dark blue shape, ruffled coat and pain stricken eyes - the fact Sweetie was quite intimately familiar with their unifying mental quirk simply made it better, as it opened the floodgates wide on the possibilities that she’d never have otherwise had. Pinkie Pie made her get wet just by the delectable contrast of bubbly pink fuzz and flesh on hard, bolted, steel-encrusted, invasive binds, gag, muffs and blinders, being in fact very fitting, to the point of Sweetie’s personal, borderline professional, rather refined if she said so herself as of late opinion, being that her setup was absolutely perfect - it’d look ridiculous in most cases, being way too harsh and severe, but this being Pinkie simply made the overexaggerated restraints work when they may not necessarily otherwise would have. And then there were the mares themselves… She knew them fairly well. The relevant parts, of course, not so much personally, at least currently she’d expelled the unimportant details out of her mind for professionalism’s sake. Why, they were all good to start with.

“Well, okay, I won’t be that mean, I gueeesss I’ll keep you informed on what I’m thinking. Hey, Sonata, yeah, you, you there, hi. You go first! And I’ll figure out what to do when I’m done with you. Luna, you second, yes, you, hey, don’t be angry, you can’t always be first. Hey!” The unicorn grinned, eyes slightly widening, when the dark blue mare once again tested the strength of her bondage in an impressive display of futility. “Damn. You’d think you’d have learned that, like, one thousand years ago. Don’t be offended, it’s been long enough, jeesh… And Pinkie Pie can wait her turn. She can’t hear us, anyway. You can gossip about her all you want, I know I’ve been doing that when alone with my Honey~”

The young mare spun on her seat gracefully, arching her back and taking in a deep breath of the confusing scents found within this dungeon. Upon having faced her victims once more, she cracked her fingers, which helped hide the severe rump burn the show-off spin gave her. These changelings seriously needed fashion lessons… But, one thing at a time. For the time being, it was her dealing with lessons. Or rather, a test.

She knew she’d pass, but there was no reason to go easy on the tools of the trade, which, for the perpetually giddy-confused-looking bluish oddball, were a pair of objects distantly resembling jump ropes. A complete obscurity to any uninitiated plebian, but a very scary tool for anyone who knew. Especially on oneself - and all of them did! Even Luna paid a blink to it, huffing and puffing.

“Whatcha ogling me for?” Sweetie asked the aquatic blue mare in front of her, who did indeed ogle her with her perpetually quizzed eyes. She had, however, a good reason to be staring at her, since these ‘jump ropes’ were intimately familiar to her, her toes in particular. “Yeah, that’s me! Took you long enough. And since it is me…” Sonata switched from pitchy mumbling into hiccuping giggles and sped-up babbling - the rope began to be woven between her toes. These ropes were short, just enough to fit four toe spaces and then hang off comfortably. Even at distant glance, the texture that was being put between those toes justified the reaction fully - it seemed immensely fuzzy, almost resembling velcro. “...then you know that I know how bad these things are for you. Well, I didn’t write the rules of the game, so I guess that’s a very good thing to know! Let’s see.”

The odd earthen mare’s left foot had been completely interwoven, and the redesigned, revamped, overall re-imagined unicorn took the two handles in her hands. After a second of re-examining, seeing if all the fuzzy rope got exactly where it needed to, she pulled it slowly, harshly, to the right. Immediately, the handles began to vibrate in her hands, that was how hard Sonata began to try and wriggle, which was admirable considering all the restraints.

The usual noises began to erupt from her - with the persistent tinge of an echo, as always. Sweetie Belle pulled to the left, to increased result. Then again, to the right, which was when the first attempted howl was pulled out of her… It tended to take about five to get past cackles. Clearly, she was doing it right, and the room was filled with the overwhelming noise of a gagged, oddball mare being driven to howling, in this strange studio-filtered tone that she had at such times.

“Yeah, see, paying attention got me somewhere! For once… You know, you’re weird… ah, gimme a sec—” the unicorn stopped, grabbing her horn with her fingers and lighting it up, focusing on the fuzz-rope that had already been established - after a few seconds of grunting, it began to saw back and forth on its own, seeing a few bright, fat green sparkles fly off her horn. “Hey there we go, I can do it even when I’m horny! I don’t get why— Where was I? Ah, right, you’re weird. I think we shoulda talked more before my promotion,” Sweetie continued on with her talk while setting up the right foot as well, now slightly slower, stopping for a moment to look at the mare’s feet in a different light. Decent, not bad, perhaps a bit too slender, long toes, slightly wider hollows than in most, very shiny despite not sweating an awful lot. “It’s not the room that does this with your voice, huh? And this thing they keep around your neck… Sheesh, I’m not up to speed even on my homegirls. That’s just…” She paused, having completed the installation of the second torture implement, and examined it. “...okay, good! But, I mean, that’s just not right. Like, what if it’s not me who’s special here, what if it’s you? I’ll ask for info on you, since you can’t really talk to me, I guess.”

The tail end of her rambling was covered up by a symphony of gargled, muffled, bubbling, slightly nasal screaming, which was so continuous one wondered if Sonata even needed to breathe. Sweetie herself was impressed - being a singer, she didn’t have bad lungs either, but this was pretty good. She never noticed it before.

Some things couldn’t stay unnoticed forever, though. One of them was the hurricane of daggers being shot at her by the nocturnal alicorn by Sonata’s side, who was consistently huffing, puffing, and overall looking more than a little displeased. The young mare sighed and rolled her eyes in response to a particularly powerful tug on Luna’s restraints. She tilted her head at the offended party, her hands steadily fuzz-sawing the toe hollows of the situation-defyingly vocal earth mare.

“Would you stop doing that? No, really. I don’t get your problem! Be happy for me or something! I’m gonna be out in the field in a few days, doing stuff, not being here and everything. I was pretty sure you were compassionate.” Luna froze in a glare, but her lack of activity was more than compensated for by Sonata, whose eyes were trying to roll back into her head. It was amusing how hard some of them could overreact. Sonata was silly, Pinkie was laughy, Sweetie herself was very prone to creaming herself more than was ever called for… Luna was always so bitey. It would be a lie to say that that wasn’t endearing. “I get it, you’re… moralistic and stuff… and loyalty’s a thing… But jeesh, why’d you need to be so grumpy? Is that your thing? Wait, right, it is. Heh, I completely forgot, I’m dumb.” Sweetie Belle smiled smugly, shaking her head.

Time passed rather well in pony-torturing and in conversation both, so it was also a good moment to ramp it up for Sonata before continuing the debate. The mare clicked the subtle buttons on the handles of her fuzz-rope, which immediately caused an almost Luna-tier thrash from the earth pony. The texture between the sensitive toe hollows was bad enough, it starting to hum, vibrate, and give off ever so subtle arcane electricity charges - even badder. Considering that Sweetie had both quality and quantity to worry about, she decided that that was enough of the former for Sonata, clicking the fingers on the other foot as well, automatizing the rope on the one she departed, and giving the soles a departing scrabble-scratch of about a minute’s worth. Surprisingly slick and slidey for not even having been enveloped in anything. Satisfying.

And convenient, since, well, that sort of stuff was mostly for the ones who did actually necessitate it, and beyond. The unicorn cracked her fingers and arched her back, kicking her seat to move her to Luna’s part of the joint chair.

“You know what, it’s a shame. You’re nice, it’d suck without you. Buuut I don’t think they’re gonna let you out if you keep acting like that. Being grumpy is really cute, don’t get me wrong,” she narrated to the still-flabbergasted Princess, looking in the extended space box for the things to be put to use. Thus far, she’d pulled out two numbered vials, and seemed to be trying to heave out something sizeable. “Buuut… It’s been, what… about fifteen minutes since I’ve come back here? You’re still peeved. Damn! You need to work on those anger issues, Princess. I mean, you’d know!”

Sweetie braced for another heavy thrash, but none came. Luna froze for a moment and then exhaled loudly through her nose. Right afterward, so did the mare in front of her, both of whose hands were elbow-deep in the small box by then - she finally got what she needed. Two metal constructions, most of which were a series of bristly-sharp horizontal blocks, just tall enough to fit an average alicorn’s sizeable sole. Sweetie stung her tongue out, forcing out a spark of magic in effort, and navigated it to the transparent magic recycler on the side of one of the items - for half a second, each of the bristly, brushy blocks came to life, each threatening to brush at a different frequency, and boasting an ever so slightly different set of bristles. The mare gave herself an ‘OK’ sign and took one of the constructions to Luna’s left foot, attaching the metal frame to the stocks. The alicorn remained surprisingly quiet through all this, looking down, somewhere.

“Hey, why’re— Great, now you’re overdoing it.” The mare puffed through squeezed lips, picking up one of the two bottles, checking its number, and pouring a generous helping of the liquid down the special hole in the bristle box. Typically, amplifier oils such as these would be meticulously rubbed in over the course of minutes, but it seemed the more efficient route to let it be spread as it went along. Teasing and massaging didn’t seem to… The unicorn stopped, scratching behind her own ear. “Aaah, wait. Too soon, I guess… Well, me and my words, I’m a blabbermouth. Yeah, okay, no, we can’t have you sad either. Someone from Breaking, maybe, but, nooonono, I’m not gonna sink myself just because I hurt your feelings. Alright, here you gooo…” The mare doused her own hands in a helping of the same oil and exerted, not without some effort, a good amount of raw magical energy to activate the device she’d already installed and keep it working for a good five-ten minutes. “Gonna MAKE you laugh.”

As the brushing bristles got to their work, so did Sweetie’s hands. Her soft, pampered fingers sunk into the sizeable foot, spreading the amplifier all over it. It was a rather basic oil, it increased nervous response to stimulation, very blunt, but also very effective for particuarly sturdy characters. It was a good thing Sweetie’s hands never really felt it before, because its effect got heavier and heavier with each application - were it as bad for her palms as it was for Luna’s soles, it’d tickle her to rub her hands, and clapping would probably hurt. As a matter of fact, they merely made the experience more pleasant, as she had no trouble admitting that the Princess’ feet were incredibly admirable from even a simple aesthetic point of view, let alone fetishistic. Groping and touching feet that were blessed with near ideal proportions, ravishing curves, unblemished skin, pulpy textures, shapely toes, and a lot of it too boot thanks to size that would humble a lot of males… There was absolutely no point in pretending she wasn’t veeery pleased with it, and the intensified sensations only helped the fact. She stroked, rubbed, and spread an additional two layers of that particular lotion just to extend the procedure. Time was more or less of the essence, but it wasn’t 100% vital, and she’d only quit early to save her own hide big time.

That was only half the reason she had to seriously suppress an orgasm, however. The other half was 15% comprised of the fact that Sonata’s torture hadn’t gotten any easier on her, that mare had terrible difficulty adjusting and desensitizing. 35% more were, however, what the bristly device did to Luna. It was an ingeniously simple brushing machine. A set of nice, fine bristles for the balls of the feet, pointy scrabby bristles for the upper arch and middle, stringy strands for the downdrop, and heavy duty eradicator bristles for the heel - each moving left and right at their own accord, at their own speed, their own pressure, their own rhythm. There were fine settings to be chosen, but frankly, it only made so much difference. Sweetie Belle knew quite, quite terribly well that it was already bad enough, and finding Luna’s setup in the settings would take way too much time. Besides, it very, VERY clearly did its job quite well. It didn’t leave much of the foot out there for observation, but the young mare knew the device quite well herself.

Luna’s reaction was enough in and of itself. Despite her alicorn stature and resilience, the Princess of the Night has a very appealing habit of hiccuping her way through roaring cackles - which was made all the more conufzzled-sounding thanks to the heavy gag in her mouth. The mare threw her head around and shut her eyes defiantly, arms clearly trying to shake in place, coming ever so close to moving the ‘antlers’ of the Y-shape her upper body was kept in. The sensitivity of her toes, rubbed and scrubbed in with lotions over a long period of time, had already turned her to secreting tiny beads of sweat here and there, her coat going just a bit frazzled.

Within just a few minutes, with only one of the automatic brushers having been installed, she was already outperforming Sonata’s slightly lackluster body reactions. The earth mare still held monopoly on being vocal, but Luna fully justified both the heavy restraints and the heavy attention the changelings had been giving her all this time. She WAS a receptive pony. Sweetie could feel some of the individual shakes, shudders, growls and giggles from when she, quite regularly, added some scrabbly, pokey tickles into her lotioning. In full honesty, the entirety of the second layer was applied mostly as an excuse to flex her fingers on a very succulent pair of vast, nearly unending feet, which she otherwise wouldn’t have a chance to, being on something of a timer for this test-run, and having to achieve as much output as she could.

“There you go… Geez, I’d say I wonder how this feels,” Sweetie mulled, attaching the other apparatus to the foot she was finally done lotioning up. “Buuut I guess there’s nothing we don’t know between us girls. C’mon, you know that’s true,” she said, sparking life into the device, making the brushes within whir away at the prepared, presented, pre-teased sole. “You can’t tell me things are that different now! Well, okay, you can’t really speak. But really… You can’t be mad that I got a better deal than you did. I had to work really, really hard for it, by the way. I went through the Breaking Room for this. You sat here and did… stuff. I don’t wanna be mean, Luna, but this sort of attitude got you into trouble before. I read history too!” The young mare got off her seat, which opened up its eyes for a moment, simply to roll them. Sweetie Belle, however, rubbed her hands and stepped, cautiously, over the line of stocks, balancing on her high heels, worming her way to Luna’s side, sticking herself between the thrashing, hiccuping alicorn and the continuously mumbling, sensorily deprived pink earth mare. “Okay, fine, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Or… well, I did. But, you know, gotta get those juices rolling! You learn to do that sort of thing in this position… I’m a fast learner.”

Sweetie took the Princess in a semblance of a hug, touching as much of her flesh as she could, what with the sturdy restraints all over her body. It was a bit of self-indulgence, as what other mare ever got to huggle a Princess. Especially when she was being extra-adorable in her suffering. It was quite a sight to see, one that her nethers approved of, too… Being sad, despondent, and simultaneously being tickled out of your mind, in a manner that clearly set off too many masochistic alarms to not trigger an overall positive response. She knew all about that, they all did. But actually pulling that on someone, and someone she knew somewhat well, unlike Sonata… Now that was good. Even if it wasn’t, the opportunity to jab your fingers into an alicorn’s sides and dig into her hips, to swirl your finely manicured index finger in her conveniently deep navel, to scrabble all over the deliciously exposed, smooth armpits.

“Oooohhhh… mmmm. Nooo hard feelings… Just hate me a lot, please. It gets their devices going so hard~” Sweetie giggle-whispered into Luna’s folded ear, one of her hands taking a bit of time off sliding inside an armpit, and giving the immortal demigoddess a chin scratch. Life goals she never knew of were being accomplished - the job wasn’t that bad at all. “I know you’ll do that for me… I don’t wanna be an intern for too much longer.”

The string of happenstance convenience continued, for the texture of the bondage furniture was dark enough that the serious leak in her nethers wasn’t that noticeable. Neither visually nor aromatically - the room was already filled with the scent of pure lusty mare, and slightly vanilla-ish lotion. She was more than sure that the number her tricks were pulling on her ponies was gonna overshadow the slight lack of control. They weren’t banned from orgasming freehand, but it was encouraged to restrain yourself, so that your mind was focused. Speaking of which… Sweetie did realize that she had another pony to set up for the extraction of her emotions. It was just way too curious to go through the other two first, and besides, she did employ a bit of strategic thinking at the start of it all.

Pinkie Pie probably didn’t see or hear it coming when Sweetie’s oiled, flexed up fingers came scrabbling down her own upper body. Not a guarantee, for that pony operated in mysterious ways, but even the chance that she may have cooked up a degree of pressure within her was good enough. And it seemed she was better at anxiety cooking than food cooking, because the response from the jittery mare was so vibratious that it almost tickled Sweetie herself in return. On the first stroke against her taut, exposed armpits, the pink earthy began to vibrate furiously, like if she’d been charging up this entire time. The unicorn could almost feel the air disturbance in her mane!

“Hahah, geez! I thought I was gonna be doing the surprising. Oh wow,” she commented, mostly to Luna and Sonata’s dismay, as her fingers danced all over the trembling field of ticklish pink jello. “She’s never been like this, has she, girls?” If there was any response, it wasn’t noticeable in the continuing cacophony of shaking metal, noisy breathing, muted echoey wailing and muffled hiccupy cackling. “I’m blazing a trail here! Damn, I’m, like, really jealous of your handler. Sheeesh, I don’t wanna stop.”

The bit of coaching Tough Break and Honey Pot gave her before this, as well as her, by now, rather intimate association with sharp fingers on touchy places, made Sweetie Belle a fair amount more than an amateur at tickling someone sufferously with her bare hands. She knew to go for weak spots, which were easily guessable - or findable - and even knew to control herself so that her fingers didn’t get tired. That was the only technical challenge in front of her at the moment: not to lose her skill and not to descend into primal amateurism. A real prospect it was, though, because Pinkie was very addictive.

“Aaah, and I wondered why everyone likes Pinkie Pie so much. Pinkie, you are li-hi-hiterally crack! I can’t get enough of you, and you’re gonna make me OD, and it’ll be all your fault!” the young mare proclaimed, grinning widely, a sinister streak slipping into the corners of her lips without much of her own notice. “Mmm, this is so good. I guess Mom was right, being an anorexic model isn’t good for you. Ohhh there’s so much to dig into! Aaah. I almost wanna fail now, so I can try with the three of you again and again!”

She’d begun to actively rub cheeks with what could be accessed of Pinkie’s. For what it was worth, the young torturer appeared to be doing a rather good job, since the earthy at her tormenting hands was driven to the usual levels of wriggle attempts and prolonged high pitched muffled tirades. Considering how much of a maze that mare could sometimes be, that meant Sweetie Belle, in her first intern test run, has clearly shown some real capabilities. At least, she enjoyed believing that, though it did in fact seem very likely.

However, there was productivity to be considered.

“Girls, you owe me to tickle her when you have free time, you got no idea how much fun this is. I do not wanna stop. But I gotta work. Well, what do I dooo nooow?..” she asked herself teasingly, raising an eyebrow. At that moment, she was still unsure as to her plan. When her finger slipped into the luscious, fruitful, laughter-resource-ridden belly button, she knew it was probably not a terrible idea. “Oh, I am actually a genius. Hey, uh, drone! Seat! Yeah, you. Unseat yourself, I have an errand for you. Copy?”

The drone fused itself back into a more pony-like form, stretching and frowning. It rolled its eyes again at her question, and clicked a response out in a distorted tone. Sweetie sighed out in relief, having understood the creature. Luna’s eyes clamped down in disappointed denial once more as she noticed that.

“There you go, about time. Now let’s think, Pinkie…” she began to drag out her performance, simply to frustrate the other two ponies some more. Pinkie probably didn’t hear most of it, probably. “What did you haaate the most. I guess I can’t feed you veggies when you’ve got this gag on… Oh, right. Drone, seat, whoever. Take the box, find meee… eight combs. Fine tooth combs. Like, for hair. But for toes. Copy?”

Her former seat blinked its head-nubs and stared at her with a glare that almost surpassed Luna’s best, but only for half a second. The changeling creature rifled, begrudgingly, through the box, and emerged with a series of grey and amber combs that looked dangerous even from a distance. Sweetie nodded, and nudged her head to the direction of Pinkie’s feet, not desiring to retract her hands from the pony’s supple body, as they were quite content playing around with the ribs.

“Uhuh, slot’em between each toe. She got so screamy when there were only two of them, wow, I’m gonna bust her! Ah well, so it goes,” the mare concluded with mock carelessness, giving the animated pink pony’s neck a lick. Quite saccharine. “Yeah, there you go… Oh, what?” She frowned at another indecipherable vocalization. “Well, bend them or something, make them go all the way! They’re made out of your stuff, you’re the one to deal with this! Hut-hut. Yeah, like that!” Sweetie approved of the drone’s turning every comb into sort of a flexible arc, so that they would fit more comfortably - apparently, Pinkie’s toes were too close to the stocks themselves for the long combs to be slotted in properly. Now they could operate on a seesaw basis, similar to what Sonata was still suffering through, with no drop-off in sensitivity. “There you go. Well, go on! Make them go. Hey, what? You’re a tool too! Doesn’t say anywhere that you aren’t!”

Another glare exchanged, and yet another course of Sweetie Belle’s manicured fingers over a trembling, blushy tummy, and the drone conceded to its position. The unicorn bit her lip, extracting a fat spark of magic out of her horn, and pass it over to the creature, which absorbed it, and did the manual part of making the combs saw through Pinkie’s dangerously sensitive hollows. Immediately, all movement and noise coming from the pink pony ceased. Sweetie was savvy enough to anticipate that - she knew what was coming. The newly baked torturer clung as hard as she could to the steaming pony’s sides, giving her neck a kiss.

“MNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNYYYYYYYRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Pinkie Pie screamed first, for about ten whole seconds. Then she emitted another powerful wave of vibrations, actually managing to slightly loosen up a bolt or two that kept her bondage belts in place. But there was no point to any of it. The earthy’s habit of bottling up a lot of activity to be unleashed when things got extra bad never did anything good for her, if anything, it simply brought the unicorn in charge of her exploitation to the brink of another freehand orgasm.

And Sweetie was having the time of her life, really. She’d only seen that mare brought to this point a few times, and nobody ever went easy on any of them! She must have been good.

“Hahahah, woohoo! I think I get the changelings now, this is amazing! Girls, seriously, stop being grumpy, you gotta do this as well,” the unicorn declared gleefilly, resting against the free space between Luna and Pinkie, stretching out her legs to put her feet on top of the stocks, and leaving both her hands to lazily spider over both mares’ tummies and armpits. “I would sell my future career and stardom and stuff to get to do this. And I didn’t even have to do that! Woo, I had no idea torturing you guys was this good. Like, thanks. This is amaaaziiing!” The young mare shuddered a little as her second orgasm finally realized itself, slightly wetting up her clothes. Not a massive issue. Sonata was performing well, Luna was above average, Pinkie was far above average. Even if one tried to be skeptical, she was doing this!

Of course, Sweetie Belle wasn’t dumb. This was immensely fun and addicting, but she certainly hadn’t abandoned rational thought. There was method to the madness, obviously… Ponies fueled the changelings best when they exhibited extreme emotions. Hence why masochists were so sought after. It was even better now, after they’ve implemented some improvements thanks to her. But that didn’t mean their tormentors, their handlers, their general staff could be lazy when unleashing Tartarus onto their captives. Sweetie’s goal was to take her former comrades in peril and manage, in one session, to provide at least as much energy output as the usual handlers tended to, be it Tough Break, Strawberry Whoever, or whatever fancy sort of name Luna’s handler had.

Technically, this was difficult because Sweetie was obviously not a changeling, and didn’t feed off all of this - it was no secret the changelings themselves did that, nobody minded a tiny bit of energy going missing. Instead, she was a pony, and her feeding manifested in the form of distracting wetness and orgasms. Also, she had far less experience. It was that they must have been testing, at least mostly. It had to be her own skills and decisions that put her marefriends through the wringer. Using the drone? Just an example of how she knew a little bit better than to stick strictly to the rules and remain directly in the box; it was obvious they wouldn’t have chosen her for a potential handler without considering her original, artistic streak.

Fortunately, all of this was a bit overblown in how much of a ‘test’ this would be. Apparently, some converts failed it - in fact, six out of ten did. Evidently, they weren’t attentive enough… Sweetie Belle was very attentive. She knew to notice the metaphorical fine print in the rules of how to torture. She knew to keep in mind her friends’ weaknesses and exploit them. She knew to act on initiative and frame her entire session around one simple thing - making them as mad as possible at her betrayal. She wasn’t oblivious. Of course they were mad, and she fuelled the fire wherever she could. That was simply how life worked, the young mare realized. It was a sneaking suspicion before, but now it was a definite rule. Some things you just did to get ahead, and it was best not to feel too bad about them. It’s not like these three were gonna die or anything, she even gave them advice on how to get out of their situation as energy batteries for the changeling hive.

Really, this was not all that different to show business, and Sweetie had been preparing herself for that for a few years now. Quite clearly, healthy cynicism and a breadwinning attitude were closer to her personality than she once thought. Just a few months back she wondered if she’d survive in the corporate musical industry. If these sort of social machinations were for her. Empty worries, it turned out… It was all coming up her way. Who knows, maybe they’d even give her a boost in that singing career she’d always dreamed of! Changelings needed regular entertainment too, after all.

In fact, that gave her another wonderful idea.

“Hey, drone. I’m feeling really happy right now, so take it while you can - go nuts on the rest of the pink one’s feet. Do whatcha want, just don’t bite. She’s already doing quite well, so you’re free to have fun. I’m too lazy right now,” she said playfully, grinning to herself. “Though, in about…” Sweetie clicked her tongue, looking to the corner of the room, where the timer was located, invisible to the captives, of course. “...eleven minutes, lather her soles up with thunder oil, and give mine a massage instead.” She nodded, wriggling her feet in their decorated, slightly ridiculous, high heels. “Pretty sure I deserve it…”

---

And there we have today. I dunno if I deserved Tough Break for my evening massage instead of Honey for how I acted during the session, but, whatever, he’s sucked me off twice now to compensate. What matters is that starting tomorrow, I’m moving up in the world!

Gonna attach a sketch of the face and mane color I want prepared for me. Sad that I’m too recognizable as I am, but I get your worries. Try to do something among those lines, please, I’m sure whatever idea I get is gonna be better than what your designers put out. That’s the hard truth, guys.

That’s all. Looking forward to field work. Honey is as well, he’s suggesting we double-date someone. Who knows! I’m full of opportunities and ready to conquer the world. Let me give you something good before it’s time for my nightly eat-out: you guys are better than show-biz. Talk about social networking…

Anyway, that’s all. Expecting my changing station to be receiving updates soon. Don’t want to flub this because somebody has no sense of proportion or fashion direction.

XOXO
Sweetie Belle.