Canterlot Academy For Pets

Script’s eyes widened with amazement as she looked around the dorm. The door behind her softly clicked shut as she took in the scene in front of her.

Compared to the rather messy and grimy hallway, the room looked like a five-star hotel suite The walls were a warm beige, matching the color of the clean, feather-soft carpet beneath the filly’s hooves.

There were two matching beds on either side of the room, made immaculately with blemish-free sheets, and a soft pillow at the head of each bed. The sheets were pure white, showing not a single wrinkle as they tucked neatly under the mattress. On top of them, a velvet red bedspread sat embroidered with the crest of the Academy.

Script was rather familiar with the symbol, as it was stamped into the seal of the acceptance letter she adored so much. Her eyes traced it, taking in the impressive amount of work put in to make the crest exactly as it should appear.

She didn’t need to look at it to know what it was, of course, she had remembered the imagery of a majestic alicorn facing outwards with it’s wings spread proudly and it’s head raised high, encircled with the silhouette of a collar.

Despite having seen the crest a number of times, it was only at that moment that she wondered who the alicorn actually was, though after a short time spent thinking on it, she decided it was in fact Princess Celestia, after all she was rather admired by the nobility who donated to the school.

With that mystery solved, she turned her attention to the rest of the room, taking note of the chest of drawers at the foot of each bed as she looked to the end of the room where a large window sat above a pair of desks.

She dropped her bags, rushing to the window and pressing her face against the glass to look out over Canterlot.

The view was breathtaking, her floor being high enough to allow her to see the whole city in all it’s glory. To her left she could see her school, where she would be having her first of many lessons the next day and to her right was the towering form of Canterlot Castle, where she figured the princesses were setting up for the afternoon’s proceedings.

She could see quite a few more ponies arriving in carriages below her, crowding around the entrance to the dorms with their luggage and bags. They were all so tiny from Script’s perspective, like dolls in her doll house back at home.

‘Home…’ She thought, feeling the familiar sensation of homesickness creep up on her slowly.

She stomped her hoof on the soft floor, pushing such thoughts from her mind for the umpteenth time that day.

Pulling herself away from the view, she unzipped her luggage and methodically packed her meager luggage into the drawers at the foot of her bed. She’d made sure to fold them into piles where each unique type of clothing was grouped with others of the same type so she wouldn’t have any issue once she got to her room.

After watching the ponies below her and the view in front of her for a few moments, she couldn’t help but let out a tired yawn. It seemed the trip to her lodgings had sapped her energy more than she thought and she was incredibly grateful for the soft warmth of the bed she chose.

She figured any bed would be fine, considering they were completely identical, and picked the bed on the left; the one of which she’d admired when she gazed at the school crest a few moments earlier.

It didn’t take long for her exhausted mind and body to fall into a deep slumber, not even bothering to pull herself under the covers as she thought her last thought before sleep pulled her into a pleasant dreamland.

‘I wonder what my roommate will be like?’ She wondered, one eye slipping closed, then another before her whole body lost its tension, her mouth twisting into a soft smile as she snored the afternoon away.

She woke up much earlier than she would have liked, the sun’s rays still shining in through her window and illuminating the still untouched bed. Her vision was blurry, and she was still collecting her thoughts as she gazed up at the wall clock above the window.

Her hooves rubbed the sleep from her eyes, revealing the waking world as she shook away the last of her slumber. She focused on the clock, reading the time as ‘2:46’.

Suddenly, a thought raced through the filly’s mind, ‘Wasn’t the tour supposed to start at 2:45?’.

She lept out of bed, quickly running a hoof through her mane to make sure she didn’t have bed-mane.

After she’d finished making sure she was presentable, she raced out of her room and down the steps, cantering down stair after stair as she made her way to the common room as quickly as she possible could.

Arriving in the common room, she found herself surrounded with a moderately large group of foals her age chatting amongst themselves as they waited for their tour to start.

The sound of a bell rang through the room, it’s tinkling bouncing from every wall as the students’ chatter slowly came to a halt.

“It appears everypony is here!” Called a familiar voice from the front of the crowd. “My name is Mister Crop, and I’ll be taking you sweethearts on a tour of the school!” He explained.

Script pushed her way to the front of the group, wanting to be the first to see all the Academy had to offer.

She watched as a mare whispered something into Mister Crop’s ear, causing him to cock his head and furrow his brow in thought.

After a while of this he whispered something back to the mare who replied with a curt nod and a bow of her head, which allowed Script to see the black collar around her neck, not an uncommon sight in her life.

“Well then,” Mister Crop began. “We are missing one little sweetheart after all, but I think we’re getting far too antsy just standing around! Let the tour begin!” He called.

The crowd’s chatter began once more, each foal’s enthusiasm bouncing off of their friends as they talked about the excitement of the tour, this would be the first time they saw their new school, after all.

Script was excited too, but found herself left out of the talking since it seemed everypony already had friends around them but her.

She didn’t let this discourage her, however as she simply figured it would take a little bit of time before she’d get the chance to join in and make all the friends she could possibly have.

“Now now, settle down sweethearts!” The stallion in front of them called, causing the ruckus to die off once again. “I want all of you to form pairs of two, and make sure you stick with your buddy like glue for the whole tour.” He explained, causing a little more talk as each pony sorted out who they’d be partnered up with.

Once again, Script found herself left out of the conversations. Everypony seemed to have their partners decided before Crop even finished speaking! How was that in any way fair?

“No thanks...” One foal told her after she asked.

“I’m buddying up with her, sorry…” Said another, pointing to her friend on the other side of the room.

One filly didn’t even respond to her question, just turning up her nose and trotting away.

Script felt the burden of being a student of a lower social class, she didn’t have the latest fashion in perfume or hoof polish and her manestyle was far too wild for the high-society lifestyle of most of the prim and proper ponies around her.

She made the decision to be simply her own buddy, surely it wouldn’t matter too much if one filly out of the some forty-odd foals didn’t have a buddy to stay with? After all, she didn’t want to cause any trouble by complaining to the teachers about it.

“Does everypony have their buddies?” Crop asked, causing a monotone chorus of ‘yes’ to rise from the foals. “Good, let’s get this show on the road! Follow me, sweethearts!” He called before turning his back to the crowd and setting off down the steps and into the lobby of the dormitories, causing the murmuring fillies to follow behind him.

A few other teachers scattered themselves around the crowd, a few taking up the rear to make sure nopony lagged behind and a few others standing to the sides to ensure none of the more curious foals got themselves into trouble by leaving the group.

Script found herself at the front of the crowd, keeping the position she’d forced her way into earlier. This allowed her to see all the sights the tour had to offer as they stepped into the late afternoon sun and set off down the path towards the main pet school building.

Glancing behind her and across the street that ran past her dorm, Script noticed a group of colts walking out of a building not unlike hers, it faced the opposite direction to her dorms, but otherwise looked almost exactly the same.

The colts were also surrounded by teachers in much the same way as her group, leading Script to believe that these colts were the first year group for the Academy for Pets’ sister campus, the Canterlot Academy for Masters.

Turning back to her own group, Script headed up the path Mister Crop was leading the fillies down.

The gates to the school were extravagant, a pair of large wooden doors which swung open to reveal a building that didn’t look too dissimilar to the dorm building the fillies had come from.

Script had seen photos of the school prior to arriving at the school, but nothing could prepare her for the sheer size of it. It was only a few storeys high but it stretched as far as the eye could see, needing to be so long in order to accommodate the full 12 years of students attending the school at any one time.

The building curved back on itself, creating a long arc not unlike the impressive archways running along the path Script had just came up. Within the arc, a few groups of smaller buildings sat disconnected from the main school, some had numbers written on the sides.

Script wondered what the buildings could be for a moment, before turning her attention back to the teacher in front of her as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Allow me to be the first to welcome you all to the Canterlot Academy for Pets!” Crop called, using a quick magical enhancement to make his voice loud enough so that everypony in the group could her him clearly. “Today you’ll get to see all the school has to offer...” He explained, “and yes, that includes the playground.” He added exasperatedly as the foals broke into a cacophony of happy giggles and squeaks.

“But only if you be good and pay attention for the whole tour!” He informed them, shouting over the noise and causing every filly to instantly stop talking.

“We’ll start with the classrooms!” The teacher said. “Follow me!”

After a while of following Mister Crop, the foals came to a large circular courtyard surrounded by a freshly cut field of grass. There were three large signs in the center. Their corners touched, making it so that they formed a triangular shape.

In the center of the triangle of signs were two towering flagpoles. One had a flag with the school’s crest in gold at it’s peak and the other had the Equestrian national flag flying proudly at the top.

The signs themselves all had the same image printed upon it: a map of the school labeled carefully with various numbers, all corresponding to a key which sat underneath the map.

The map also had one extra marking, a large red dot labeled with ‘You Are Here’, positioned over the courtyard which the foals were currently standing in.

A series of paths led away from the courtyard, each path’s end destination marked with a signpost. The pathways were of various sizes The paths sprouting to the north and south being the widest as they led towards the school’s main entrance and the campus of the masters’ school respectively.

There were ponies of various ages scattered around the courtyard, grown-ups making use of the generous amount of seating provided on the edge of the paved area while the younger ponies made use of what the group of fillies felt was by far the most interesting and exciting attraction of the area.

The playgrounds.

The group’s excitement was rapidly building as they saw they expansive and well-equiped pair of playgrounds that lay on either side of the path leading north. Everypony smiled at their friends as a few of them slowly shuffled in the direction of the colorful and bright adventure playground before being noticed by the adults on the edges of the group and being nudged back with a quick reassurance that they would get to play later.

Mister Crop paused in the courtyard momentarily, waiting for them to settle before saying, “Now, if you ever get lost, look for these flagpoles. The maps will help you get to where you’re going and there are always ponies who are willing to help you sweethearts if you still can’t work it out, so don’t be afraid to just ask for help!”

He didn’t wait much longer before setting off up the path leading towards the school. He hurried past the playgrounds, trying not to allow the anxious fillies any chance to slip from the group and start playing earlier than he intended.

He’d had some rather distressful experiences during past tours.

Huge white arches cast strips of shadow on the wide brick path leading to the school gates, with finely groomed hedges spanning the gaps between each arch.

He continued toward the main building, it’s glass doors being pulled open by a pair of the schools multiple resident maids, allowing the ponies through.

Mister Crop nodded a thank you to them as the group passed into the long school hallway.

“These rooms and hallways are where you’ll be spending most of your time here at the Academy,” He explained. “You’ll find that all of the classrooms are labeled with their floor number and their letter.”

This explanation was met with mixed responses, some fillies nodding in understanding while others furrowed their brows, trying to work out what he meant.

Crop noticed this, opting to explain further by leading the group to the first classroom to his left, which had a golden plaque with ‘1-A’ etched into the metal.

“We’re on the first floor, which is why the number one is written,” Crop started to explain. “And because it’s the first classroom, it’s given the first letter of the alphabet, which is?” He asked, trying to pull the fillies into some healthy interaction.

As it expected, his question had the desired effect, almost all of the fillies called out the letter ‘A’, their tones blending into an atonal chorus as they all mentally patted themselves on the back.

“Good job!” Mister Crop congratulated, deciding to test their knowledge a little as he asked another question. “So, if I was looking for the fourth classroom on the second floor, what would that one be called?” He asked in an over-enthusiastic voice, developed over his many years of teaching to ensure any filly couldn’t resist calling the answer.

“2-D!” Every filly called back, causing Crop to smile.

‘Like clockwork…’ He thought to himself, smirking softly.

“Great, you’re all so smart!” He said. “Now, the classrooms are all locked up today, but you’ll be seeing them tomorrow on your first day! Let’s keep going, shall we?” He asked, setting off further down the hall.

The fillies were even more excited now, the interaction from the teacher having riled them up enough to make them eager to hear what he was saying.

He lead them to a large pinboard, which had a series of colored pieces of paper lined up along it.

“Next, I’ll explain what really makes this school special; the colors system!” He said, coming to a stop and causing a few foals to bump into the ponies in front of them as they came to an abrupt stop.

“We use a lot of special toys here at the Academy, but some of the equipment we use is just for small and inexperienced sweethearts like you little ones, so we have a handy system to make sure you all know what you are and aren’t allowed to use!” The stallion told them. “Which of you sweethearts can name all seven colors of the rainbow?” He asked, prompting almost every foal to thrust one of their hooves into the air as quickly as possible to try be the first to grab the teacher’s attention.

His eyes searched the crowd as he looked for the filly to whom he would give the honor of answering the question.

His eyes gravitated to one specific orange filly.

“Yes, Script?” He asked her, looking down at her grinning face as the other foals dropped their hooves disappointedly.

Suddenly, Script felt the intense glares of what felt like thousands of pairs of eyes, judging her every word and action, “R-Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and…” She trailed off, the intense pressure was making her forget the last one!

Mister Crop chimed in, helping her along by telling her the first syllable of the word she was looking for, “Vi…?”

“Violet!” Script finished the word, causing a few fillies to giggle at her clumsiness and making Script’s face to gain a slightly red glow.

Mister Crop winced internally, noting Script’s embarrassment and opting to simply bring the foals’ attention back to himself.

“Great!” He said, deliberately leaving Script’s name out of his praise, “We’ve added an extra color, too!” He continued, trying not to dwell on her mistake.

The crowd tilted their heads, before noticing an extra sheet of paper was stuck to the pinboard, a plain, blank white one.

Mister Crop confirmed their suspicions, “White!” He said, “One of each of these colors is on each and every piece of equipment in the school, and you’re only allowed to use the equipment if you have that color assigned to you. Obviously, you can also use the equipment if you’ve got a color ranking higher than the one on the equipment, but you little sweethearts mustn’t worry about all that, because you only have the white rank right now!”

The whole crowd took a few moments to process the information, a few of them pouting as they realised that they were to be prohibited from using some of the toys in the school.

Their sulking didn’t last long, as the teacher spoke up again, “Next, we’ll take a look at the dungeons!” He said, causing a low murmur of excitement to rise from the fillies.

Script had seen dungeons before. Her home contained a rather sizeable one which unlike most foals, who were banned from even setting hoof near, she had been inside a multitude of times for various reasons, though never for the purpose one usually used it for.

Despite being familiar with the overall inner workings of such a room, Script was excited to finally see the inside of a bigger and more equipped one than her own, and even get the opportunity to use it!

The teacher led them out of one of the sets of doors that were dotted along the front of the building. Leading them down the carefully maintained pathway, which was lined with a short hedge and led back past the gate to the school and towards the circular courtyard.

After returning to the courtyard (passing the playgrounds, which once again required the teachers to tactically block bratty fillies trying to sneak off), Crop set off down a path to their right, leading them all to a rather small black building.

Its size perplexed some of the more experienced students, as it couldn’t have been much bigger than the average classroom at first glance.

“This is just one entrance to the dungeons, I know it may not look like much, but bear with me!” Crop explained.

The entrance was guarded by two staunch royal guards, who checked the I.D cards of the staff before stepping away from the open doorway and allowing them to pass through.

The ponies stepped inside the building, being presented not with a dungeon but with a large set of steps which led deep into the ground. Red light radiated from deep below, pouring out and filling the room.

“Downstairs we go!” Crop called, setting off down the steps and into the red light. “While you fillies still have your special white color rank, you’re not allowed to come to the dungeons without a teacher to make sure you don’t hurt yourself, but soon enough you’ll be making your way down all on your own!”

The fillies followed along closely, all a little scared by the ominous red glow that was slowly surrounding them. Friends cuddled close to each other for support, leaving Script to deal with her fear alone.

Despite having been in dungeons before, somehow this one made her much more nervous. This was the place she’d spend hours having all kinds of acts performed on her, just like her mother was always been taken into her own house’s basement to do.

Of course, it wasn’t like she didn’t want such things to take place and if she ever didn’t like something, there was safeguard after safeguard to make sure nothing really bad happened to her.

Arriving at the bottom of the staircase, Script was greeted with a slightly familiar sight.

Down a short hallway, Script could see a room bathed in color, the larger toys such as breeding racks and suspension devices visible through the doorway, which was as wide as the stairs the group had just descended.

Their tour guide led the excited, yet slightly nervous fillies into the large room, the public section of the dungeons. Their eyes widened as they looked around it, even Script being caught off guard with how neat and tidy the sex dungeon was when compared to the slightly grimy basement which housed her parents’ toys.

“Welcome to the dungeon!” The teacher said, “Feel free to take a look around, but don’t get too naughty~” He teased, causing some of the fillies to blush and shy away.

Eventually, the crowd dispersed, various ponies wanting to see different features of the dungeon while others stayed close to the exit, eager to leave as soon as possible.

The dungeon felt slightly cold, the room’s polished stone walls making the room considerably chillier than outside. The walls were painted with magical runes, exuding the red glow which filled the whole room. Sniffing the air, Script detected the slightest scent of rose petals on the air.

Underneath the runes, racks of equipment ran along the walls, all carefully categorized and labeled with the color rankings one needed to use the equipment. All of the racks except for the one labeled ‘white’ were locked with a physical lock, reinforced with a magical enchantment to make sure they stayed closed.

Script could not be happier as it was everything she hoped for! Everything from the expensive and elaborate binding devices to the host of dildos and buttplugs that sat next to each bench, bed and rack.

Everything was perfect. Almost.

While everyone else wandered around talking about what they could see with their friends, Script found herself standing alone.

She realised something as she watched the other fillies poke and prod at the equipment, unsure of what one was to do with such objects. Script had an opening!

She made her way over to a pair of fillies inspecting a classic bondage bed, Script had slept in one a few times in her life, making her intimately familiar with what to do with the various chains and bindings.

She froze, what was she supposed to say to make friends? She’d never really introduced herself to anypony before. She took a moment to think over what she was going to say before stepping confidently towards them.

The two fillies gave her slightly dirty looks, but that didn’t discourage her from opening her mouth to say, “I’ll tie you up if you want, it’s super easy!”

The foals looked at each other, then at her, “Aren’t you that girl who didn’t know the colors of the rainbow?” One of them asked, malice dripping from her voice. “That must have been so embarrassing.” She said, looking at her friend.

Script’s ears flattened, her eyes staring at the ground as she remembered her embarrassment back in the hallway earlier in the tour.

“Don’t be mean, Juniper,” The other filly replied, causing Script to look up, her eyes filling with hope, maybe this pony would stick up for her!

“I mean, Daddy says that ponies with less status have worse education than us, but I never thought it would be that bad!” She continued, making Script’s shame return in full force, churning in her stomach.

The filly named Jupiter nodded in agreement, making her movements deliberately obvious as she continued, “My Daddy says that we always have to show sympathy to those with less than us, especially ponies who are stupid!” She finished, turning her gaze to Script as she emphasized her last words. Script took the hint, feeling tears well up inside her as she backed away for a few steps, suddenly taking off and running to the other side of the room.

Why were they so mean to her? She only messed up once, and it was only small!

She took a deep breath, seeing another group of fillies who were inspecting a ring gag and paddle set.

Steeling herself, she trotted up to the group, once again opening her mouth to speak.

This time, the group didn’t even give her a chance to speak. They took just one look at her rather amatuer hoof polish and the fake flowers in her slightly messy mane and dispersed as quickly as they could, leaving Script alone once more.

Alone, the slight chill of the room started to get past her thin coat, sending chills up her spine. She slumped to the floor, her flank hitting the cold floor with a solid thump.

The dungeon was suddenly a lot less exciting. in fact, Script couldn’t wait to leave the room which began to slowly close in on her, where it once felt expansive and breathable, it was slowly becoming overwhelming and claustrophobic.

It felt like everypony who passed her gave her a dirty look, their slightest disapproval becoming an intense hatred, making her want to sink into the floor and disappear.

Finally, after what felt like decades, Mister Crop brought an end to the dungeon exploration, “Okay sweethearts, time to go!” He called, making all the foals groan with disappointment, excluding Script, who jumped to her hooves and raced to the front of the room, eager to leave. “Make sure you find your buddy and stick with them!” He reminded.

Script felt a pang of jealousy in her chest, balling up inside her and rising as a lump in her throat as she watched everypony else talking with their friends about what they’d seen in the dungeon.

Mister Crop scanned the room to make sure that nopony would be left behind before calling, “Okay everypony, it’s time for your first assembly, follow me!”

He set off back up the steps, the loud chatter from the other foals bouncing off of the cold walls and surrounding Script.

She felt nervous about assembly. what kind of things were they going to talk about? Would she mess up again? What if they called on her for something?

Only time would tell.