Chapters Rain. Oh, how Sandy Surf hated the rain. It drizzled down her wings and pooled at her hooves, darkening her tan coat to an icky brown. She flipped her mane out of her face, teal at the roots fading to white at the tips, and hugged her saddlebags against her body with her wings. It didn’t matter, she tried to tell herself, if this draft of her latest story got wet. She planned to rewrite it anyways. But that didn’t stop her from protecting it, fanning her wings around her body as her eyes roamed down the tracks for a sign of the train to Ponyville.
A little foal whispered to his mother and pointed. They were on their way to school, no doubt. Ah, yes, and here was the shocked gaze of the parent. Sandy was used to this response. It wasn’t every day a pony saw a pegasus with clipped wings, after all.
Her ear flicked as she regarded their whispered conversation. They’d probably assume that some abuser had forced this upon her, or her parents wished for an earth pony and were determined to make her one, or one of the other million stories she’d heard to explain away her damaged wingtips. The truth was a bit sadder than any fable a mother would invent to placate a foal.
She had been born incapable of flight thanks to tendon weakness in her wing joints, and had started clipping her own wings in her teens as a sign of rebellion against the world’s disapproval. Of course, that only made ponies pity her more. She had found solace in writing, for it was the only way she could come close to flying. Repetition and practice begat talent, and she often sent her stories to publishers with the hopes that they'd be accepted. When one of her drafts was accepted by a publishing house, Sandy realized that she could be more than just a flightless pegasus to others. Her cutie mark appeared, a sand dollar with a sun design, inspired by her first story, Icy Tea’s Day at the Beach , written about her happiest childhood memories from a foal’s point of view.
Children’s stories were her forte, and her latest book, My Mommy’s A Cat , had become a resounding success, especially in the secret kink society she found herself visiting again and again.
Sandy had arranged a meeting today with a few of the good friends she had made there, and she hoped that collecting their stories would inspire her to write her first adult novel. Either way, it would help her get out of the house, and any excuse to visit the Clocktower Society was a good one.
The Clocktower Society, Sandy thought as she shivered in the rain, was an experiment in extreme measures. Everything was designed to create the safest, sanest, and consensualest environment for BDSM, to the point of utter ridiculousness. Where else would geniuses conspire to create dildos that not only vibrate and glow in the dark, but are also enchanted to take on a life of their own, or freeze or heat up on command? Where else would ponies chase and hunt each other in an entire city built underground for that purpose? And where else would a spa not only offer a “happy ending,” but a cock-and-teat milking service while they shine your hooves?
Sandy found this all rather absurd, and yet she considered its ridiculousness quite charming. The Clocktower was a place even she managed to fit in, where she had found friendships and sexual adventures beyond her wildest fantasies.
A train whistle blew, signalling the arrival of the Ponyville train to the Manehattan central station. Jerked from her own train of thought, Sandy trotted on board and perched on one of the seats. The early-morning train always had seats available, which gave her room to spread out the latest copy of her story to dry.
Only the edges had gotten wet, thankfully. Even though it was likely that she'd start again from scratch, she didn't want to throw this draft out just yet. It was so hard to find inspiration to write, and even harder to focus back home in Manehattan. Sandy could hardly wait to arrive at the secret entrance of Clocktower East.
It was less crowded in the sandwich shop than Sandy had expected. Perhaps it was unusual to grab a bite to eat at 8 am on a Tuesday here. In Manehattan, all the chic coffee shops would be open for business, ready to serve her any combination of coffee, syrup, and cream she wished. But here it was sleepy, quiet, and almost desolate. Sandy dropped her manuscript down, claiming a corner booth as she waited for the others to arrive.
Like many other places in the Clocktower, the very name of the shop didn’t seem to take the matter of BDSM seriously. The Sub’s Subs . Sandy found the pun both abhorrent and cute.
The mare who was serving the sandwiches was rather cute, too. She had served Sandy a daisy sandwich, paid in the society’s currency of Tallies created by a Fire of Devotion-powered Phaser, applied to the sandwich mare’s rump. She moaned her thanks, and then went back into the kitchen, leaving Sandy alone with her thoughts.
Her hoof rested over the collar around her neck, rubbing its smooth surface. In the Society, the collar colors meant different things. The red base color meant she wasn’t looking for a permanent relationship with a dom, the purple and orange bands in the middle meant she enjoyed rougher play and played non-consensual situations, and the silver studs meant she was free to use by any pony, any time.
Safewords could always slow down, pause, or stop the play if she didn’t feel comfortable with, of course, but she made sure to choose where she played carefully to keep that to a minimum. Sandy loved being in Clocktower, since she always felt safe and in control, and was excited to talk to her friends who felt the same way.
The first to arrive was Ghost Phase, a timid unicorn mare, barely out of school. Sandy waved her over and cleared a spot on the table. Ghost scooted next to her, barely ruffling the pages. Her white coat was damp, and her pale blue mane dripped with water. Clearly, it had been raining in San Fransiscolt too. Ghost’s horn lit up, a hazy blue aura surrounding both her and the pages on the table. The mare blushed as she cast a drying spell before picking up a page and beginning to read.
Sandy didn’t have the heart to disturb her with the fact that the page was from the end of the story and she would need more context to understand it. Ghost worked in a coffee shop, after all, and was likely tired from taking the morning shift, so maybe she wouldn’t notice. Occasionally, Ghost’s hoof would creep up to fiddle with her white collar, which proclaimed that she was a pet open to new relationships.
The door slammed open, announcing the arrival of Misty Step, a changeling from Hive Tempest and Ghost’s self-proclaimed “bestie for life.” She was as spirited as Ghost was timid. Her indigo mane clashed with her red and gold collar, in Sandy’s opinion, but Misty didn’t seem to mind her fashion calamity one bit. She grinned and flopped down next to Ghost. “Hey, Ghostie, how’s it going?”
Ghost squeaked and looked up from her page. “It’s, um, fine.”
Misty prodded the quiet mare. “Oh great, glad to hear it. Hey, I came up with a joke while I was on patrol last night!” Misty worked as a changeling scout, and was currently stationed Celestia-knows-where searching for any undercover changelings working for Chrysalis.
“Oh.” Ghost set down the page, and gazed steadily up at Misty, who was practically vibrating in her seat. “Tell me.”
The changeling grinned. “Why did Chrysalis kidnap DJ PON-3?”
Ghost blinked, trying to work it out. “Um, because she loves music?”
“Close. It’s because she feeds on wubs!” Misty cracked up at her own joke, her laughter overshadowing Ghost’s soft giggles. Sandy rolled her eyes at the pair and started gathering up her now-dry pages. Those two were almost inseparable, thanks in part to their mutual love for pet play.
Where was the third mare she was supposed to be meeting with? Sandy frowned and stood up to peek outside the shop. Nope, she was nowhere to be found. She sat down next to the other two. “Have either of you seen Glossy Print?”
“I haven’t seen her since last week. I bet she just got held up at the magazine,” Misty offered, shrugging. Ghost shook her head, and snuggled against her changeling friend.
Sandy sighed and pulled out a pad of paper from her saddlebags. “Alright, then we’ll start without her. Misty, would you mind telling me about your favorite memory from playing in the Clocktower Society?”
Misty grinned. “Oh, where do I even begin? That’s hard to narrow down, but, hm… oh, right, right. It all happened a few weeks ago, when I asked Shutter Speed to be my owner for the day…”
It was time.
Misty Step had been looking forward to this for a long time, practically forever. This was the most important part of her day, and she was ready. Everything was prepared, and the only thing she was waiting on was her master’s arrival.
She had cast a spell to give herself fur, dark soothing grey, the same color as her chitin. Shapeshifting took concentration, but a spell could last for a set amount of time whether she focused on it or not. Her wings and horn also vanished with the spell, grounding her and leaving her ‘helpless’ for the few hours it would last. She wore her cuffs and her collar, just like a good little pet.
Misty had also reserved a little house for that morning, a temporary ‘home’ in the residential area of Pet Town. It looked exactly like every other house, in that it had a kitchen, a Master bedroom, a comfy cage, and a bathroom. The front door had a pet door, but pets don’t need their own doors when they’re going on walks!
It was time for her morning walk, and Misty couldn’t wait to go. She sat at attention as she watched the door, anxiously fidgeting. What was taking him so long? He didn’t forget, did he? Oh dear, what if he got lost? There wasn’t much a puppy like her could do about it if he had! What if-
Oh, oh boy, what was that sound? Misty ran in circles excitedly, using up her nervous energy by chasing her tail in a flurry of hoof- no, pawsteps. She caught it in her mouth and gave a muffled yip of victory before releasing it. Oh, she couldn’t wait until her owner arrived.
The sound of a squeaky door and hoofsteps announced the arrival of her friend and master, Shutter Speed, who was practically famous for being Clocktower’s radio host, was equally well-known as his sub nickname ‘Slutter Seed’... and was currently cursing to himself as he tried to untangle a cerberus leash. Misty laughed and trotted up to him, offering nuzzles as he fumbled with the ends held up in his magic.
“Hey, puppy. You ready to go?” He asked, finally undoing the last of the knots her leash had made. Misty barked, and wagged her tail eagerly. Oh boy, was she ready. She’d been looking forward to this all day!
“Alright, roll over!” He made a gesture with his hoof, but Misty didn’t see it. She had already thrown herself onto her back, her pawsies kicking in the air and her belly exposed.
Shutter leered down at her. “Aw, what do we have here? Is the little puppy that desperate to be leashed?” The puppy spread her legs and wagged her tail excitedly in response.
The leash looped through the ring in her collar, the three clips tracing down her barrel, towards her nethers. She panted up at him, meeting his gaze with adoration and trust. Shutter rubbed his hoof against her teats, and she whined softly, tensing against him.
Two of the three clips fastened around her nipples, and she squirmed at the pinching feeling. It stung a little, but it was worth it to see the flash of pride in her owner’s face. The third one hovered over her clit. “Are you ready to play, little bitch?”
Misty barked needily, her tail wagging as much as she could make it while on her back. He waved it teasingly in his magic, making her whine and squirm. What was he waiting for, he knew where that one went, didn’t he? She spread her legs as wide as she could, making him grin.
With a flourish, he finally clipped the final clamp of leash onto her clit. The puppy gasped and whimpered, arching her back against the ground and trying not to moan. Her owner gave a satisfied nod before tugging at the other end of the leash. It tightened and tugged her poor teats and clit, making her whine.
“Roll back over, pup, it’s time for our walk.” Shutter waited for her to flip back over before he opened the door and clicked his tongue. “Heel, doggie.”
Misty pranced up to him and sat at his side, staring out of the open door longingly. He patted her back approvingly before starting down the path towards the dog park. She walked alongside him, watching all the other pets go about their day.
Pegasus-birds circled the sky, diving down wherever their owners scattered birdseed, twittering happily. Some flocked to the pony-sized birdbaths, splashing each other without a care. A loud cacophony of tweeting came from the aviary; it was probably feeding time for those lucky pets. Misty wished she could chase them, but every time she wandered from Shutter’s side he tugged the leash firmly to bring her back. She gave a bashful whine every time and returned to her owner.
A crowd was forming in front of the pet shop. Misty nudged her owner, and he slowed down so they could get a closer look. Oooh, was that a bunny? Misty barked at the sub, who squeaked and cowered in the back of her cage. The other pet’s nose twitched, and Misty winked before returning to Shutter. Bunnies were cute, but puppies were clearly better, since puppies get walks!
They arrived at the entrance to the dog park, a large enclosed area in the middle of Pet Town. Pets were everywhere! Dogs were playing fetch with their owners, cats were scratching at posts with their soft hoof-paws, and birds sat perched on top of the branches of reinforced trees scattered around the park. The trees themselves glowed a soft green that lit up the park in the places the warm lamplight couldn’t reach. Benches were spread around the edges for owners to sit on, and a fountain sparkled in the center of the park with fresh clean water for thirsty little pets to drink. A few bowls were set aside next to it, for pets who were thirsty for cum or a Clocktail instead.
With a flourish of magic, Shutter unclipped Misty’s leash. “Alright, want to play fetch?” He picked up a nearby ball and waved it in Misty’s face. She barked excitedly, spinning around and around in a frenzy. Oh boy, did she ever!
He flung the ball a little ways away and off she went to bring it back. She pounced on it, making the rubber squeak, before grasping it firmly in her mouth and trotting back, looking far too pleased with herself. She dropped it at his hooves and stepped back, waiting for him to throw it again. Shutter held it in his hoof and pretended to throw it again, holding it in the air in his magic. Misty barked and raced away, looking for a ball that wasn’t there. Where was it? Oh, her owner had it! She ran back to Shutter, barking happily.
He threw it again, up higher this time. She scampered underneath it before jumping up, snapping at it and missing. With a huff, Misty trotted after it and picked it back up. She used to be better at fetch; perhaps she was out of practice. She turned back to her owner, but was surprised to see him talking to other ponies! She whined and nudged him, dropping the ball at his hooves. Shutter looked down and patted her head gently.
“These ponies want to know how my last broadcast went. Do you mind playing with the other puppies in the park while I talk? I shouldn’t be too long, and then we can play fetch, and maybe I’ll even give you a treat! How does that sound?” He looked her in the eyes, slightly concerned. Misty knew he’d tell the other ponies that he couldn’t chat if she wanted him to, but she didn’t mind. She nodded and picked up the ball, trotting a little ways away before looking back mischievously.
Shutter looked relieved and turned to talk to the other ponies. Good, now she could hide the ball somewhere and he wouldn’t find it. That would be fun! Misty grinned around the rubber ball as she pranced off through the trees. Being a bratty pet was wonderful, especially when she could cause good-natured trouble. Now, where to hide that ball?
Misty looked around for the perfect hiding spot. She’d dig a hole if she didn’t find one already dug! She wandered towards the fence and set the ball down to sniff at one of the posts. Yup. Smells like other puppies have rubbed against it to ‘claim’ it as their territory. She turned around to do the same when she saw it.
There was a hole in the fence, a few paces from her. Some mischievous dogs had dug underneath it, making it easily big enough for her to scoot underneath it. She grinned, nudging the ball away. Oh, this idea was much better. Why not have a bit of fun and explore Pet Town on her own for a little? She was sure she’d find her way back. She pressed her belly to the ground and squirmed underneath the gap. Onward to adventure!
Her first stop was the cafe, The Coffee Pup. She wagged her tail at the pets sitting at the feet of their owners, a few of them leashed to a post outside. One of the pets meowed back before lying down to lap at her pet bowl. Misty couldn’t tell if it was cream or ‘cream’ that filled it. She was about to wander over to the pet bathing building when she heard a shout.
Misty turned around to find two stallions running towards her. One of them held up a net, and the other talked into a walkie-talkie. She couldn’t hear what he was saying, but she knew he was calling in reinforcements. The pet catchers were after her! Oh no, why had she run away from Shutter? She was frozen with shock, her mind demanding that her paws move, but they only trembled.
The pet catchers, she remembered, wouldn’t hesitate to drag her to the pound. She had been captured by them before, and she shuddered as she remembered their hooves, all too eager to check her coat for fleas, and checking her most sensitive parts extra-well. She whimpered as she remembered when they put a vibrator in her to “monitor” her (if she left the cage, it would buzz harder and harder until she made a sound, alerting the nearest pet catcher to her location) and left her to howl and moan with the other caged pets.
Her moment of erotic terror was broken by the sound of loud meowing. Turning, she spotted the cat, mewling, waving for her to run. Misty jumped to her hooves and raced between two buildings. She scurried past some shops that sold everything from brushes to pet bowls.
One building advertized a new kind of leash that would not only tug on the teats and clit, but also push a dildo further into the pet. Misty blushed as she raced past it. Hopefully, Shutter wouldn’t see that ad, that sounded too temptingly wonderful to bear.
She ran until she was panting and had to slow down to catch her breath. She walked behind one Mistress with three puppies, trailing behind them as they wagged their tails with pride. Misty couldn’t hear the pet catchers anymore, which concerned her. Were they setting a trap? Petiquette stated that she was fair game, since she wasn’t currently with an owner, or wearing a leash, or sitting in a box. Did somepony call them off? The only pony who would do that was-
With that, she tripped over Shutter’s outstretched hoof, and landed flat on her chest.
“Somepuppy’s been a naughty pet, and has caused all sorts of trouble, hasn’t she?” Shutter glared down at Misty as she whimpered. So much for returning without him noticing. Without any ceremony, he strung the leash through her collar and roughly placed the clamps on her nipples and clit. She whimpered and bowed her head, trying not to moan and get into more trouble.
“Yes, that’s right, you know you’re in trouble. Naughty pets get punished, you know.” He yanked on the leash and trotted back towards the homes.
Misty whined, her tail between her legs. She had been a bad doggie, since only bad dogs run away. She wondered what her owner would do to her.
Shutter petted her firmly as they walked back, passing by the pet shop. A ‘sold’ sign was in the window where the bunny used to be, and Misty felt happy that she had a home now. “You’ve been a bad girl, running away like that. You had me worried sick! I didn’t want to lose you here, but luckily the pet catchers found you. I don't know what I'd do if you were lost for good!”
Misty nuzzled him gently and he laughed. “No, no, that doesn't mean you won't be punished, pet. You did earn it, after all.”
She didn’t have to worry about her punishment for too long. Soon enough they trotted up the path to the house. He led her over to a doghouse, painted an earthy brown. It looked like any ordinary doghouse, if it weren’t for the clips on the doghouse’s roof, two on each side. Misty gulped, thankful that the roof’s top edge was slightly dulled, and had a slightly-padded ridge.
It was Pet Town’s version of a wooden horse, with supports at the clips designed to attach to a pet’s hoof cuffs. It would ensure the pet’s safety as they lay there in discomfort, exposed for everypony else to see.
“Now, do you want a bone?” asked Shutter, his horn lighting up. Misty barked and nodded desperately. Oh yes, she wanted his bone, very much! She spun in a circle before sitting like a good dog in front of him. She’d do anything for that!
Shutter laughed. “It’s a pity, then, that you were so naughty today. Only good pets get treats. Bad pets get punishment. And you are in the doghouse. Or, well, on it. Test your bell, pet.”
Misty nodded, then focused for a moment before her silver bell rang once. As soon as that happened, she felt herself being levitated up and onto the dog house, straddling it. She struggled against his magic, but it didn’t give. She felt helpless, weak, just like a pet, an animal. And she loved it. She loved all control being taken away. Pets didn’t need to think, they didn’t need to move, they only needed to obey their owners.
Her front hooves were clipped first, up towards the top of the doghouse, forcing her in a sitting position. Her pussy pressed against the edge of the doghouse, her weight pushing it down. She blushed as she felt it growing damp between her folds. Her hind legs were clipped next, one on either side, to keep her stable.
She whimpered, but Shutter wasn’t done yet. “Mouth open, pet.” With a smirk, he produced a toy from inside the doghouse, a purple and pink bone chew-toy-gag. She whined as he secured it around her head. It squeaked as she bit down, and she squirmed against her restraints. While not downright painful, it was certainly uncomfortable, and the worst part was that it was easily in view of one of the main paths, so many ponies would be certain to see the naughty pet and hear her squeaky toy-gag.
Then, Shutter reached his hoof into the doghouse, fumbling with something. With a buzz, the padded ridge she was sitting on began vibrating. Misty moaned into her toy gag, and tried to pull away from the vibrating top of the rooftop, but the clips kept her firmly pressed against it.
Shutter ruffled his pet’s mane, pleased with his work. “Thanks to you, I missed breakfast, so I’m off to the cafe to get some. I should only be a few hours, so get comfortable. Perhaps when I get back, I’ll let you down, if you’re good.” He walked off down the path, pausing whenever he passed someone and pointing at her. It was going to be a long few hours.
Ghost Phase bit her lip, her blush prominent against her white fur.. “He did let you down, though, right?” she squeaked, one hoof firmly planted between her thighs.
Misty Step smirked and leaned back in the booth. “What do you think? Let’s just say that he won’t be able to sit down for a week next time I’m in charge of him. Anyways, hope that helps, Sandy, because I think I riled up poor Ghostie.” Ghost gasped and hid her face behind her free hoof.
Rustling through her hastily scrawled notes, Sandy nodded. “I think that works nicely. Ghost seems too flustered to tell her story, though.” She thought for a moment, then gasped and rushed out of the sandwich shop.
Misty shrugged before flopping over, sprawling onto the empty spot Sandy had left. “So Ghostie, need some help with that?” Ghost shook her head fervently, blushing harder.
A minute later, Sandy re-entered, grinning triumphantly. “So, you mentioned the Coffee Pup, and I thought, what if Glossy Print went there instead of here? So I sent her a message with my Pipsub, and she says she’ll be right-”
“Ohmygosh I’m so sorry I’m late I had to get the pictures to the editor to see what he had to say and thankfully he liked them but that made me mix up where we were meeting and, well… I’m sorry. What did I miss?” Glossy Print chirped before remembering that breathing was a good idea. She scooted next to Ghost and pulled out a brush to fix her green fur and bright pink mane.
Ghost brushed her own mane out of her face and managed to squeak “Misty’s teasing me!” before hiding herself back behind her mane. Misty laughed, and sat up to let Sandy sit down.
“Darn right I am! So, since you’re here, Print, mind telling us about your favorite Clocktower memory?” The changeling grinned at the earth pony, who put away her brush and snuggled close to Ghost.
“Well, alright. This was a few days ago, and I thought I had finally gotten my photos perfectly right…”
“WRONG!” Glossy Print jumped at the loud voice and the slam of the door that accompanied it. A trio of stallions burst through the door, rushing to put away various makeup supplies and props, calling out to one another when they needed something. Two mares set down lighting equipment and rushed over to close the door that the shouting mare had opened.
The older journalists and photographers in the office of Frolic were used to the noise, and scurried about in a desperate attempt to have everything prepared exactly the way the demanding sky-blue mare preferred it. Print, however, had no idea how to respond. Her legs shook as she wheeled around to find her mentor striding up to her. She bit her lip and stood at attention in the center of the room, wincing as Photo Finish stepped up to her, striking a dramatic pose.
“EVERYZING IZ WRONG! ZE NEXT ISSUE IS DUE IN TWO DAYS. GLOSSY PRINT, LOOK AT ZHIS. DISASTER!” Photo threw a folder down in front of her quivering intern. A dozen photos spilled out at Print’s hooves, who picked them up and sighed.
“I d-don’t know, I thought these ones of the slave pits were pretty good, and that picture Second Glance got of those two spa pets was cute enough for the front page insert…” She winced as Photo Finish slammed a hoof down, knocking the pictures out of her intern’s hoof.
“ENOUGH. ZHERE IZ NO PASSION IN ZHESE. LOOK AT ZHEM!” Photo Finish fished out the photo of the two pets. “ZHEY LOOK LIKE WILTED FLOWERZ. ZHERE IZ NOTHING ZHERE ZAT CAPTUREZ MY ATTENTION. IT IZ A RELIEF ZAT I, PHOTO FINISH, AM HERE TO SHOW YOU HOW TO CAPTURE… DA MAGICZ.” She frowned at her intern.
Print tried to choke back her tears as she pawed at what she felt were her best attempts, but one still escaped down her cheek. She tried to turn her head away so her mentor wouldn’t see it, but was stopped by a sky blue hoof. Photo Finish tenderly wiped the tear off her cheek and lifted Print’s chin.
“NO MORE CRYINK. CRYINK IZ TIME WHERE YOU ARE NOT MAKINK YOURSELF BETTER. NOW GO. GO!” Photo Finish turned and pointed at two of the assistant ponies, who darted around the room to fetch their supplies. She helped her intern to her feet.
“PRINT, FETCH MY MASK. NO! NOT ZE SPARKLE ONE. IT WILL CATCH ZE LIGHT OF ZE RESEARCH LABZ INCORRECTLY. NO! ZAT ONE IZ TOO- YES! ZAT ONE. GET YOUR COLLAR, WE NEED TO HURRY IF WE ARE GOINK TO REPLACE ZE PHOTOS IN TIME FOR ZE RELEASE.”
Photo Finish set down her fashionable glasses and slipped on the mask Glossy Print had practically thrown at her in her rush. The black mask molded perfectly to her face, and the gold accents surrounded the lenses of her trademark magenta glasses. Print returned, stumbling over her hooves, a matching black collar adorning her neck.
“EVERYPONY READY?” Photo Finish tilted her head towards Print, who nodded shakily, her saddlebags full of kinky props. Print took a deep breath, looked up at her mentor, and responded in a voice that was much less confident than she wanted it to sound.
“We go!”
And off they went, to take the Clocktower by storm.
Lily Lace sighed as she slouched in her pet box. The day had gone, like, totally wrong. She had been told that if she sat in a dumb box that said “Need Home”, she’d get played with, but she had been there literally forever, and nopony had so much as looked at her.
Maybe the brochure had been wrong, and being a pet wasn’t all wonderful, and, like, she should spend her time doing something more, like, fun. She pouted down at her chic pink kitty booties. Perhaps she was doing it all wrong, and the plush kitten ears and makeup weren’t necessary.
Her real ears flicked as she heard a rustle and scampering to her left. Maybe this was it! Maybe somepony had finally come to save her from her totally boring waiting. Lily looked up shyly, hoping she’d see a loving owner, or at least somepony with a big--
She squeaked, nearly falling over as a flash bulb went off in her face. A quartet of fashionable looking ponies swarmed her. One stallion touching up her makeup while another stylistically mussed her mane. Lily sneezed at the powder puff shoved in her face before turning to face the remaining two mares. “Wait, you’re Photo Finish! What are you-”
“STOP!” The two stallions froze in the middle of their ministrations before rushing back to Photo Finish’s side. The mare next to Photo Finish waved at Lily sheepishly, and Lily couldn’t help but smile and wave back. A photo shoot wasn’t exactly what she had been fishing for, but there was no way she’d turn it down, especially if it was THE Photo Finish who was taking the photos! She posed like an excited kitty in the box, much to the photographer’s apparent delight.
“YES, GOOD, YOU ARE ABANDONED ON ZE STREET NEXT TO ZE PARK. A LARGE, VIRILE DOG IZ BEHIND YOU. OH NO, HE LOOKS LIKE HE WILL POUNCE ANY SECOND! ARE YOU AFRAID? OF COURSE YOU ARE! NOW, YOU TRY TO JUMP OUT OF ZE BOX. NO! DON’T MOVE! HOLD ZAT POSE!”
Photo Finish grinned behind her camera, draping herself over her intern’s back to balance. Meanwhile, Lily wobbled as she tried to stay still while balancing on one hoof as she leaned out of the box in apparent terror. She felt totally ridiculous, but she must have looked better than she felt since Photo was snapping so many photos. A few ponies walking past paused to watch, but most just shook their heads.
“ENOUGH!”
Photo Finish elbowed her assistant, who gulped and whispered, “We go,” before the four of them stampeded to some other corner of the Clocktower.
Lily beamed, wondering if she’d be totally famous, before finally losing her balance and toppling over into a graceless barrel roll. As she recovered, a shadow loomed over her, and two pairs of front hooves lingered in front of the dirt where she’d faceplanted. She looked up, coughing, and smiled back at the two stallions leering down at her. Perhaps today wasn’t a total waste after all.
Peppercorn held his breath as he hid behind a wall. He couldn’t afford to make a sound. If he so much as gasped or squeaked, he’d be discovered. He had expected his pursuers to be deftly lost, but the one time he shook them off his tail, they found him again when his route to freedom turned out to be a dead end.
Pepper flipped his scarlet mane and cocked his head. It was silent. Too silent. Maybe the doms who had been pursuing him had lost his trail? That didn’t make sense, there wasn’t anywhere else for him to be hiding. So why was it so quiet?
He cautiously peeked out behind the wall. Yup. They were still there, but they weren’t looking at him. Instead their attention was focused on a point above his head. Pepper frowned. While it could be a trick, he didn’t think they’d look so genuinely astounded if they were trying to divert his attention to pounce on him. He looked up… and his jaw dropped.
Somehow, wedged between the two upper floors of a crumbling building were a posse of ponies, including a sky-blue mare with a camera. Photo something or other. An uncomfortable-looking mare was squished underneath her. Pepper wheeled around at the sound of a click. Two stallions held up lights, illuminating the darker corner of the maze. He squinted at them, then turned back to Photo something, who seemed to be in charge. “How… how long have you been up there?”
The squashed mare beneath to her sighed. “Two hours and fort-”
“NO TIME TO TALK! ZHERE IZ ONLY TIME FOR DA MAGICS! WE START… NOW!” The sky blue mare whipped out a camera from Celestia knows where and began taking photos, blinding him with the flash. The one under to her gave him a shaky little wave before struggling back out from under the other mare, gently cajoling Photo out of the ruins as the photographer giddily snapped picture after picture.
Pepper stepped back as the mares squirmed out from their hiding place. “No, really, I’m a bit confused, and-”
“YES, YESSS, MORE CONFUSED. LIKE A LITTLE FOAL LOST IN ZE WOODS!” Peppercorn blinked up at her, barely cmprehending what was happening. “AND YOU" She pointed to one of the doms huddled in the shadows. "POSE BEHIND HIM!"
The dom gave a very un-dommy squeak, but did as she commanded, posing as ferociously as he could muster while trembling like a kitten. That photographer mare was demanding, sure, but the big scary dom that had been chasing him looked downright intimidated.
“NO NO NO, NOT LIKE ZAT! TOWER OVER HIM, HIGHER, HIGHER!” The dom had to dig his hoof into Pepper’s flank to keep his balance as he loomed over him, his expression flickering between tough-as-nails and terrified-bunny-rabbit.
“ENOUGH!” The camera-mare shouted, stomping a hoof. The stallions who had been holding up the lights clicked them off and scooted out of the cracks in the building they’d been wedged in.
The mare next to Photo gave Pepper an unenthusiastic half-smile before mumbling, “We go,” cueing the four of them to take off into the maze… away from where he had been heading. Hm. That probably meant he had been going the wrong way after all.
The dom behind Pepper huffed as the four ponies raced away, looking as though he had about as much remaining dignity as a sheared sheep, which made Pepper snicker. The dom’s attention snapped back to Pepper, who gulped and raced off deeper into the maze, the gang of doms giving chase. The hunt was back on.
Coco wasn’t entirely sure how she got herself talked into these sort of messes.
It certainly was a mess. Her normally tan coat was dripping with the cum of mares and stallions alike. It wasn’t her idea to be in the stocks, sorry, pillory , and she wouldn’t have ever considered it if her Mistress hadn’t placed her there rather… persuasively. On top of that, her Mistress had drawn something on her, but she couldn't tell what, and it was driving her nuts.
She wished she could see the state of her tail, or what her mane looked like, but both had been used as a cumrag after the doms had finished with her. It was fairly quiet right now, which was nice. It was the perfect time to reflect on her true place, serving her Master and Mistress, and… what was that? Were more ponies coming to use her? Or…
“PERFECT, HOLD ZAT POSE!”
That was the voice of Photo Finish. Only one mare could command so much attention with one shout, though Coco couldn’t figure out what she was doing here… or why she was photographing her backside. She could hear flashbulbs going off behind her, and a crowd gathering. Oh no, were they going to rut her poor defenseless body until she cried out or... Wait, the noises she made probably wouldn’t show up on camera. But somepony must have been enjoying themselves, because Photo Finish was still shouting orders.
“YES, JUST LIKE ZAT! LIKE YOUR CUM IS ZE ONLY ZING ZAT WILL SAVE ZIS POOR MARE FROM CATCHING ON FIRE! OH NO, ZIS MARE IS ON FIRE! QUICK, YOU MUST DOUSE ZE FLAMES! NO, NOT SO FAST! YOU MUST BE PATIENT! GRACEFUL! ZIS IS WHAT WILL HELP ZE MARE BECOME ALL ZAT SHE IS MEANT TO BE! WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN, ZIS IS NOT HELPINK? OF COURSE IT IS! NOW SAVE ZE MARE, YES, JUST LIKE ZAT!”
Coco heard the passionate grunts of a stallion before she felt the warmth of his cum on her back. She closed her eyes, lost in thought. This was where she belonged, used as a cumrag for anypony who happened to be walking along. And the photos- she hoped her Master and Mistress would get to see them. She hoped they’d be proud of them. Maybe they’d make an album for all the nice, embarrassing photos of her.
A polite cough startled her from her reverie. A rather flustered mare stood in front of Coco, and seemed to be looking everywhere but at the bound mare. The lull in conversation stretched awkwardly, and Coco almost thought she should offer to help this stranger get off somehow when the other mare spoke.
“J-just making sure you’re okay and all. We got this really good picture of one of the doms getting off… um, and thought you should know, the cum on your back makes a heart. It’s pretty c-cute…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
The poor mare seemed at a loss for what to say. Coco smiled at her gently. “Oh, thank you, that sounds lovely, miss…?”
“Oh, my name is-” the mare started, before a cyan hoof reached out from behind the pillory and pulled her away.
“GLOSSY PRINT, WE HAVE ZE PICTURES, WE MUST BE GOINK. WHAT DO WE SAY?” Came the energetic voice of Photo Finish. That poor dear must be her intern or something. Coco shuddered at the memory of being an intern, and hoped this mare had it better.
She could barely make out an almost silent whisper of “We go.” before the hoofsteps faded, leaving Coco confused, slightly more sticky, and... Surrounded by a crowd of eager masters and mistresses ready to remind her where her place was once again. She hummed as she felt a stallion lining himself up against one of her back holes. A heart… how nice of Mistress to draw a target on her back.
Glossy Print sighed as she trotted tiredly beside Photo Finish. They had been all over the Clocktower that day, from the lowest, most depraved research labs to the lewdest viewing galleries, and her hooves were wobbling from all the running about. Thankfully, they had gotten enough diverse photos for this issue of Frolic .
As she trudged along, Print’s mind echoed with the memories of all the ponies they took pictures of. Their results were wonderful, there was no denying that, but the methods her mentor used to catch ponies at their best moments made Print rather uncomfortable. Perhaps Photo Finish could ignore the comments of spectators, but Print heard them all.
When they had burst into a semi-private suite, for example, Photo Finish had been focused on taking pictures of the mare about to be collared to her mistress, but Photo didn’t even seem to notice the whispers of the mistress’s other pets. Some of them were curious, wondering how on earth they procured a key to get into there, but many of them were frustrated that the photographer and her crew had ruined their moment.
Then there was the defeated looks the doms gave Photo when she had taken pictures of that rather flustered dom and sub in the maze… they haunted her. She considered working with Photo Finish the highest honor, but she couldn’t ignore the spectacles they caused.
And on top of that, she’d been proud of the pictures Photo Finish had scoffed at.
“Photo Finish? If you have a minute, I think we need to talk…” she started, pulling her mentor aside.
“TALK? ABOUT WHAT? ZESE PICTURES ARE BRILLIANT! EVERYPONY WHO IZ ANYPONY WILL LOVE ZEM!” Photo Finish flicked her tail and grinned at Print.
“No, I mean, I don’t know if-”
“I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH PHOTOS TO FILL TWO ISSUES, AND WE DIDN’T EVEN GO TO EVERY PLACE IN ZE CLOCKTOWER! WE DIDN’T EVEN NEED TO PREPARE MOST OF ZEM! ALL WE HAD TO DO IZ POINT AND SHOOT, AND ZEY POSED LIKE STATUES!” Photo Finish went through a few of the various poses she had made her ‘darlink subjects’ do, from the crouched stance of the pet to the intimidating pose of the dom in the Labyrinth. Minus the terrified look, of course.
“That’s not what I’m talking about, I’m just not sure that-”
“ZERE IZ NOZINK TO BE NERVOUS ABOUT. EVERYPONY WILL LOVE WHAT WE HAVE DONE TODAY.” She bounced in place, her mask barely staying on as she gleefully pranced.
“Photo Finish! I really want to tell you that-”
“WHAT? WHAT IZ IT? SPEAK UP! YOU ARE BEINK QUIETER ZAN FLOOTERSHY!” She brushed back Print’s mane so she could see her face better.
“I don’t know if I can be a photographer like you.”
Photo Finish froze, a frown twitching on her lips. It wasn’t her usual frown of disapproval or dramatic horror.She looked as though she was on the verge of panicking, before her expression settled into one of surprise. “WHY WOULD YOU SAY ZAT? YOU ARE A NATURAL PHOTOGRAPHER, AND YOU HAVE A KEEN EYE FOR ANGLES ZAT MOST PONIES DO NOT SEE. WHOSE IDEA WAS IT TO CLIMB STORIES ABOVE ZE GROUND? WHO WAS IT WHO BARKED AT ZE WINDOW DISPLAY PETS TO GET ZEM TO LOOK PERFECTLY STARTLED?”
Print sighed and scuffed her hoof, looking anywhere but her mentor, her hero. “It’s just… I can’t just ignore the stares and comments like you do. They hurt. And those pictures we had to replace? I liked those… I was really proud of those, and you threw them on the ground like they were nothing. I just...”
She took a deep breath and looked Photo Finish in the eye, as best as she could through the shades. “I just don’t think I have what it takes to be a great photographer. I was honored when a few months ago you said you’d take me under your wing, but I’m not sure if this is going to work.”
Photo Finish sighed and pulled off her mask-glasses, her purple eyes betraying how tired she was, more tired than Print had ever seen her. Dark circles were under Photo’s eyes, the result of hours of lost sleep. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and for the first time Print saw just how much the opinions of others weighed on her mentor.
“Print,” Print blinked. She had never heard her mentor speak so gently and, well, normally. “Precious Print, do you zink I, Photo Finish, do not hear my critics as well? Zere are days where even I start to believe zem. But greatness does not happen overnight, and how can you shine if you give up on dayz you are not your brightest?” She rubbed Print’s back more gently than anypony else would have expected from her.
Print sniffled and leaned into Photo Finish’s embrace. “I just wanted to impress you, and show you that I had what it takes. I guess I just need to wait until I’m good enough to take on so much work at once.”
Her mentor scowled, hugging Print close before pulling her back to gaze into her teary eyes. Her gaze was determined, filled with the take-no-shit intensity that Print adored her Mistress-Mentor for. “NO. ZAT IZ NOT ACCEPTABLE. WE STILL DO NOT HAVE ZE RIGHT PHOTO FOR ZE COVER PAGE, AND WE NEED TO FINISH ZE JOB.”
Print blinked. “I thought you decided that the one of that pet pony was the best for-”
But the photographer’s mind was made up, and she dragged Print off towards one of Frolic ’s empty studio rooms. “IT IZ NOT RIGHT. NOT ENOUGH PASSION. AND ZERE IZ ONLY ONE PONY WHO CAN POSE WIZ ENOUGH PASSION IN TIME.”
Print squeaked meekly, reaching out and grabbing Photo Finish’s mask as they trotted past it. She had a feeling she’d need it.
“YES, NOW DO IT AGAIN, FASTER,” Photo Finish- no, Print’s Mistress- shouted, one hoof tapping against the floor impatiently. Print nodded and ran through her basic modeling positions a second time, as fast as she could. She knew what Photo Finish liked, and she performed perfectly, but it still didn’t seem to please her. Even the lewder poses weren’t satisfying Mistress like they usually did- like curling up on her back, alluringly spreading her hind legs with her forehooves. Print looked up to see her Mistress peering down through the lenses of her mask, and blushed.
“Did I do okay, Mistress?” she mumbled, trying to read her Mistress’s expression, but to no avail. She knew the answer, but this sort of conversation was all part of the game they played.
A game that Photo Finish always won.
“ZAT WAS BARELY ACCEPTABLE. I KNOW YOU CAN DO BETTER. SHOW PHOTO FINISH SOMEZING SPECTACULAR!” Her Mistress posed dramatically while setting up her camera to capture her sub’s kinky antics.
Print blushed and stretched, before starting again. It just didn’t feel like enough this time, and it hurt that her poses weren’t enough today. Just like her photos. It stung, probably more than it should, but she tried to shrug it off and not concentrate on that. How did her mentor do it? It felt next to impossible to ignore every rejection.
Print ran through as many poses as she could think of, trying desperately to come up with some new angle for her Mistress to enjoy, but her thoughts kept returning to the judging stares and angry comments she had heard throughout the day. The thought that someday she might cause such a ruckus too made her heart hurt. She didn’t want to be a bother to anypony or get in the way! She loved how the photos turned out, but she hated the stares and glares of the other ponies.
It felt like too much to bare. How did Photo Finish do it, how did she push past the venomous comments of bystanders? Did she just not see what a fuss she caused? Print frowned as she went through the motions of posing, lost in thought. Was this what she would turn into? She loved her mentor, but could she ever become a “great” photographer like that and not lose her mind? Print balanced on two hooves for one of the final poses, wobbling precariously, before falling over into a sniffling heap.
Photo Finish looked agast. “WHAT IS ZAT? IS ZAT A NEW FORM OF MODELING? I HAVE BEEN TOLD THAT FLOOTERSHY’S NEW SHTYLE IS POPULAR IN ZE HIGHER RANKZ OF CANTERLOT, BUT-” The photographer’s monologue was abruptly cut off by her sub’s voice, sounding more certain than she had the whole night.
“Towertop, Mistress.” Print said, enunciating clearly before breaking down into quiet little sobs. The effect of the safeword was immediate. Photo Finish quickly set down her camera and rushed to her assistant’s side. Print flinched away, feeling slightly ashamed that she had to safeword, but her Mistress only brushed a hoof against her cheek, looking into her eyes through her mask.
“Oh, precious Print, what is ze matter? Was ze setting not right, or ze poses too much?” Photo Finish asked, watching with increasing concern as her sub tried not to bawl. When Print did not answer, the dom hugged Print close, rubbing her back gently, holding her tight as she cried into her shoulder. Print pressed into her Mistress’ embrace, letting herself cry away her anxiety and pain at the commentary they had suffered through.
After her sobs subsided, Print tried to collect her thoughts. “It’s just… I don’t think I can live up to your expectations, Mistress. I’m not sure if I’m strong enough to push past all the negativity. I love working with you and capturing ‘The Magics’, I just… don’t know…” She hung her head, expecting her mentor to scold her, to tell her how disappointed she was.
What she did not expect was for Photo Finish to remove her mask to look Print in the eyes. She met her Mistress’ beautiful lilac eyes, that Print felt expressed more than any photograph ever could, which shined with sympathy and compassion, something nopony but Print ever got to see. Then Photo Finish smiled, and nuzzled her intern.
Print looked up as her Mistress beamed gently down at her. “Precious Print, I, Photo Finish, believe you have what it takes to become a shinink star in zis career, but zat is a choice only you can make. I promise, though, zat I will support you in every attempt you make. Remember zat.”
Print sniffled and nodded, before curling up in front of her Mistress, her hero for Celestia knows how long. She wiped her tears away. “M-maybe you still have one more picture left to take, for consideration for the front page, and then we can go somewhere nice? Maybe the spa? They’ve got a Mistress & Me Massage now, and I heard it’s a relaxing way to spend an evening, assuming you don’t mind that.”
Her Mistress winked before putting her mask back on. “OF COURSE. LET IT BE KNOWN ZAT PHOTO FINISH HAS ZE MOST PRECIOUS SUB OF ALL, AND PRINT SHALL MAKE ZE FRONT PAGE WITH ZE HEADLINES!” Print curled up on her back and giggled cheekily at the camera as the shutter clicked, just once. Photo Finish cooed over the picture before helping her sub to her hooves, nuzzling her profusely.
“NOW, TO ZE SPA FOR SOME MUCH NEEDED AFTERCARE. WHAT DO WE SAY, PRECIOUS?” Photo Finish held out a hoof. Print took it, and found herself swept off her hooves and set on her mentor’s back. She laughed as she rode her Mistress towards the door of the photography studio.
Print hugged her hero, her mentor, her Mistress tight. “WE GO!”
“That’s it?” Misty frowned and slumped in the booth against Ghost. “That’s your favorite memory from the Society? It’s barely kinky! It’s just… pictures of kinky.”
Ghost nudged Misty. “Voyeurism is a kink too, you know. Not everypony is into a ton of hardcore, rough sex. Everypony has different things they get out of play, and it doesn’t take an extreme scene for it to mean a lot.”
Misty shrugged. “Whatever floats your slightly-less-extreme boat, Print. I take it that picture of you being all snuggly made it to the front page?”
Print choked on her poorly-timed sip of jasmine and lavender tea for a moment before nodding, coughing and sputtering through her reply. “Y-yes, it did. In fact, it’s in the upcoming issue, but that’s supposed to be a secret. We’re not supposed to share details so, um, forget that I told you anything, at least until the next issue of Frolic is published!” She blushed behind her teacup and looked at Sandy, who noted this at the bottom of her page.
“Don’t worry, this isn’t going anywhere, it’s just for inspiration. Thanks for sharing that, by the way, I really appreciate it. So, Ghost, are you up for telling your story?” Sandy turned to a new page in her notepad and looking up at the shy mare.
Misty sighed. “Let me guess, it’ll be about some barely-kinky sex and the magic of friendship, ooooh.” She waved her hooves around in a fairly spooky manner.
Ghost smiled weakly and batted her friend’s hooves lightly. “Actually, quite the opposite. It’s certainly kinky, but there’s no sex at all! And yet, it was still wonderful, and just what I needed. It had been a particularly awful day at the cafe, and it was about to get worse…”
“And as I was saying darling, if I hadn’t found those tickets, the whole night would have been positively ruined! Luckily, Fluttershy noticed something poking out underneath a spool of ribbon, and there they were! We had such a divine night, she and I. It was fortunate that the show didn’t start for another half an hour, wouldn’t you agree?” The customer smiled over the counter expectantly, primping her purple immaculately-curled mane.
Ghost took a deep breath and held it for a few counts before releasing it. “I, um, of course. But I just wanted to know if you wanted whipped cream on your drink.” She tried not to look too exasperated. Honestly, working in two coffee shops was one of the worst decisions she had ever made, especially since The Coffee Pup brought its own sort of chaos.
You still had chatty or rude customers, and you also had “pets” that mewled, squeaked, barked, twittered, and made quite the mess under the tables as they lapped at their pet drinks. It always took extra mopping to get rid of the various fluids on the floor. Ghost refused to be fired over somepony slipping, after all.
The customer had the grace to look embarrassed. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry, darling, no whipped cream, thank you. I’m just so pleased with how last night went, I didn’t mean to take up your time. You do understand, right?”
Ghost bit her lip and nodded. Patience, she reminded herself. All good employees had to be patient. Besides, her payments at Clocktower funded her expensive hobby, and a small private room to crash in when she was too exhausted to portal back to her apartment in San Fransiscolt.
At least this mare seemed to be one of the last customers of the night, Celestia willing. The day had already been long and exhausting. The arrival of the autumn drinks had brought along a flood of ponies eager to enjoy their favorites, and her early-morning shift was nonstop.
As the mare trotted out of The Coffee Pup, sipping her Twittermite Frappuchino, Ghost sighed and grabbed a mop. Time to clean up that one puppy’s latte mess, and then she could close up shop and go relax with one of her friends. She hummed to herself and got to work cleaning. Closing a few minutes early wouldn’t be a crime, right?
A prerecorded chirping sound alerted Ghost to a new customer entering the shop. She sighed and dashed back to the counter. Why oh why did she say she could handle this shift by herself? She beamed at the pegasus stallion that entered, hoping her grin didn’t betray her exhaustion and annoyance. “Welcome to the Coffee Pup, what can I get started for you?”
The pegasus tossed his pale yellow mane, which was artfully piled into a bun, and smiled back. “Oh, I am just doing wonderfully, thank you for asking. You have no idea what sort of day this has been! I just joined this wonderful establishment, you see, and everypony has been simply fabulous! ” He winked at Ghost, making her muzzle scrunch up. Oh, how she wished she could tell this pony that she didn’t care about his life story, she just wanted him to order something, anything .
He continued, propping his head up on his hooves and swishing his tail. “You see, I’ve been looking for a pet of my own, and I have got to say, most ponies here have been pretty sweet. Yourself included, sugar!” She cringed. Oh please, no, please don’t let him be actually flirting with me!
The stallion misinterpreted her reaction and held out a hoof to shake. “Where are my manners? I’m Zephyr Breeze, mane stylist extraordinaire, perhaps you’ve heard of me?” He didn’t even wait for her to shake her head before he pressed on, unperturbed that she never shook his hoof back. “I know, it’s a lot to take in, honey, but don’t you worry, I never forget a fan! Now why don’t you just tell me your name and... hm… Here, we can grab this booth and chat a little, what do you say?”
Ghost flinched. “I, ah, actually I can’t do that, sir, as I work here, and we need to be closing up soon, and-”
Zephyr grabbed her hoof and tugging her over the counter towards an empty seat. “Now now, there’s nopony else to worry about. It’s just me and you, and I just want to chat a little. It’s so very nice to meet a friendly pony, and- Hey, what was that for?”
Ghost had yanked her hoof away, and picked herself up from where he had sprawled her across the counter. “Towertop!” He blinked and took a step back at her safeword. “Please stop flirting with me.”
Zephyr visibly winced and opened his mouth, but Ghost held up a hoof and continued. “I, um, I’m sorry sir, but we’re closed, and I need to lock up and go home, and I don’t need you to walk me so please, um, go check out a different shop? ”
The stallion’s smile fell into a pout. “Oh, but sugar, I just… I saw you were a white collar, and thought you might want a bit of company. I was just being nice, honest. There was no need to safeword, I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable. You sure you don’t need somepony to walk you home?” He smiled at her hopefully.
She scowled. “No, I don’t. I’ve got a friend coming over. You don’t get to choose how your actions feel towards others, sir. And, for your information, just because my collar says I’m looking for a permanent dom doesn’t mean that I’m automatically interested.” Ghost stomped her hoof on the counter. “Now, please, if you’re not going to order a drink, get out, because I need to close up!”
Zephyr’s face went through a variety of expressions, ranging from shock to anger to sadness, but he seemed defeated. He sighed and trudged out the door, turning to glance at her one last time before wandering down the path. The mare sighed in relief before trotting up front to turn off the ‘Open’ sign. Her breath came in little huffs as she thought about what happened.
First things first, though, she had to get somepony to walk her home. Her hoof hovered over her Pipsub as she considered who she should message. The only pony she expected would be around Pet Town at this time of night was Misty Step. She quickly sent a request to her friend, before slumping over at the counter.
That was pretty scary, she had to admit. But she did the right thing. So why did she still feel a twinge of guilt? It wasn’t as though he didn’t respect her safeword, so why was she reacting that way? Were those tears? Why was she crying? He barely touched her, and she had stood her ground, and he left. End of story. There was no reason to be upset, these tears were therefore illogical and should go away! The tears, of course, did not obey her logic, and kept trickling down her face. She sniffled, then crumpled against the counter as she tried not to bawl openly.
No, this would not do. She didn’t even have a tissue box or a wad of napkins to wipe away her tears. The coffee shop’s alarm chirped, announcing the arrival of somepony, but Ghost didn’t feel like facing any customer, especially in her current mood. She slouched in front of the counter, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her.
A hoof on her shoulder made Ghost look up into the concerned eyes of Misty, who was panting. She must have ran all the way over. “Hey, Ghostie, I came here as soon as I could. You don’t look too good. Wanna talk about it?”
Ghost gasped in relief as she saw her friend, and gave her the bone scrushingest hug she could manage, her tears falling onto smooth chitin. “N-not really, Misty. I just want to forget what happened!”
The changeling frowned and held Ghost close. “You’re safe, right? Did somepony hurt you? Do you need me to get a Den Mother?” Ghost shook her head frantically and hugged tighter. “Okay, okay, easy there! You’ll crack my chitin!”
Ghost sniffled, but let her friend go. Misty smiled and ran a hole-riddled hoof through Ghost’s mane. “ There there, it’s all okay. Hey, you have a room in CTS, right? Why don’t we go over there and continue this. You lock up, and I’ll stand guard outside. If anypony is watching, I’ll bap them in the nose!”
Ghost managed a weak smile and nodded. She wiped her tears away as best she could as her friend marched out to stand guard. Misty was right. She probably should report this to a Den Mother. They’d know what to do. But right now all she wanted was a break from this whole mess. Celestia knew she needed it.
She finished cleaning up and locked the Coffee Pup, then nodded at Misty to follow her.
“Hey, Ghostie, don’t worry. Nopony was waiting outside. That doesn’t make this any less scary, but I’ve got your back.” Misty nuzzled her friend, concern written all over her face. Ghost nodded as she led the changeling out of Pet Town, and towards one of the main roads.
Ghost didn’t say a word until they reached the private chamber area of Clocktower, and were in an elevator going up to her room. “I plan to go to a Den Mother and sort this out, but I really need a bit of a break to clear my head, you know? I feel far too wound up to discuss what happened. I hope you understand.”
Misty nodded, lost in thought as they reached Ghost’s room. Ghost would have commented on the lack of a reply if she had the energy, but all she managed was a weary sigh as she held up her Pipsub to the door handle. The door unlocked with a friendly beep.
“You know,” Misty grinned, her gaze sweeping across the cosy, messy little apartment, “I have an idea on how to make you feel better. You still got those pet supplies stashed here?”
Ghost nodded, a flicker of excitement washing away her fatigue and warming her growing smile. Misty ruffled the unicorn mare’s mane. “Perfect. Put on your kitten ears and meet me in the kitchen in five minutes. I’m gonna set everything up!”
Ghost scampered to her bedroom, which consisted mainly of a bookshelf heaped with novels and clothes, and a nest made of cushions and pillows. She dug out a pair of white cat ear accessories from under the bed, trembling with joy. As an afterthought, she put on a set of pale blue socks with paws printed on them.
She hadn’t done any sort of scene in weeks, she had been too busy. The idea of playing with Misty filled her with fillyish glee. She bounced on her hoof tips, full of nervous energy.
After a few minutes had ticked by, Misty called her back. “Here, kitty, kitty, it’s time for your supper!”
Supper, Ghost realized with a pang, had been the half sandwich a customer had returned, saying they didn’t want it toasted. Not much of a meal. She padded out of her room in her paw booties, flicking her tail.
Misty smiled down at Ghostie. She had set up a fluffy, pony-sized pet bed on the tiled kitchen floor, and set out a bowl of what looked like cream. Swinging from her crooked horn was a keychain with a silver tube with some buttons on it. Ghostie had no idea what it was; she was just a cat after all.
Ghostie mewled happily at the sight of the bowl though. She sashayed towards it and settled down on the fluffy bed in front of it. Misty chuckled and stroked her back gently, earning a purr. The kitten lapped at the drink, and recognised the sweet, smooth qualities of Cuddlebug, and basked in the warmth it stirred within her. As she enjoyed the taste, Misty’s pets pressed harder into her back, until it became a full-on massage, kneading her hooves into the overworked cat’s shoulders and spine.
Ghostie sighed, her breath creating ripples in cream in her bowl. She relaxed, sprawled out on the bed, occasionally lapping at the comforting drink. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so comfortable.
Misty finished her massage, leaving Ghostie’s muscles all tingly and unwound, then levitated a brush over to start working on the kitten’s mane. Ghostie meowed happily and finished her drink, free for the moment from her worries and stress. Those belonged with Ghost Phase the Pony, not Ghostie the Kittycat.
She stretched as she righted herself, mewling up at Misty. Her owner grinned, setting down the brush and pulling the keychain off her horn. “Does the kitty want to play? Hm? How’s this, kitty?” She pressed the button on the tube, and Ghostie cocked her head. Nothing came out of it, but it glowed slightly red at the tip. Misty giggled at the silly cat and pointed at the ground.
Aha! There was a red dot! Ghostie reached paw down tentatively and batted at it. It wavered and darted away, across the room! With a gasp, she crept forward, stalking the dot. Right as she pounced, it zipped around her.
She turned after it, but it kept on moving, and she spun in circles to try to catch it. It stopped, but she kept going, turning around again before stumbling to a stop dizzily. It darted back to her owner’s hooves, and she snuck up on it and pounced! She had it! When she lifted her paw, it was gone.
Misty stroked the kitten’s head. “Good little kitty. Come, curl up with me. I’ll read a book to you. You don’t even need to worry about what it’s saying, because you’re just a cute little pet. I may even pet you, if you’re good!”
Ghostie swished her tail and followed her owner as she sat down on a couch with sunken, worn-out cushions and patted the seat next to her. The cat jumped up and snuggled her way under her owner’s chin, who began to read the first pamphlet she pulled out of her bag.
“Contrary to what most ponies believe, Chrysalis is still at large, and her changelings are still out- wait, this is not a story to read to a cat. Fine, then, I’ll just make up my own! Alright, once upon a time, there was a brave little cat and an evil bad mousie. The cat lived in a far off kingdom called Cat-questria, and- Hey, stop giggling! Cats don’t laugh!” Misty chuckled and pet the giggling Ghostie.
Misty continued with the story once Ghostie had calmed down, but the kitten was hardly listening. She felt happier than she had in a long time, and wished for a fleeting moment that she could stay like this forever, chin resting on her friend’s thigh, careless, worry free. Of course, it wouldn’t last, but until the story ended, she didn’t have to think about Den Mothers and stressful jobs and clueless twats with narcissistic tendencies.
And Ghostie was perfectly fine with that.
Ghost finished telling her story, and reached out to claim a cookie from the bag Sandy ordered for the group. A sniffle drew her attention to the sight of a teary-eyed Misty. “Oh, goodness, I didn’t mean to make you cry!”
Ghost squeaked as the changeling grabbed her in a tight hug. Misty stiffened for a brief second in surprise before returning the hug, embracing the smaller unicorn with both hooves and both wings. They stayed like that for a few minutes before letting go, eyes still watery.
Misty wiped her eyes. “I didn’t realize that meant so much to you. You never did tell me what happened, after we went over to the Den Mothers. You seemed too tired to retell it.”
Ghost blushed. “Well, I was pretty tired. I meant to tell you, though, I swear!”
“You never swear, Ghostie, but yeah, you fell asleep in the elevator that night. I had to tuck you in. Has anypony told you that you snore?” Ghost gasped and gently nudged a mischievous looking Misty away, much to Sandy and Print’s amusement.
Sandy gathered the pages of notes she had made. “Well, that’s all I needed, I really appreciate you girls coming out here to tell your stories, and-”
“Hold on, you don’t think we’re letting you off that easily, do ya?” Print clasped a hoof over Sandy’s. “You should share your favorite Clocktower memory with us!”
Sandy gulped and looked around at the table. Ghost nodded, and Misty smirked. “Hey, it’s only fair. Come on, tell us, and there had better be kinkiness and sexiness! There’s no excuse with a mare as hot as you.”
Sandy rolled her eyes and pulled out a pad of paper. “As it happens, I wrote out my favorite memory beforehand, so it reads perfectly well. My own experience wasn’t enough, though, so I went to you for help. I don’t mind reading it, if you don’t mind listening. It all started in a Cathedral, as one pony made her preparations…”
Cathedrals , the mare thought, are meant to be filled with screams. Screams of the wicked, screams of those earning their redemption, screams that turn into songs of pleasure.
She opened the cabinets lining the walls near the main entrance of the circular chamber . Preparing ponies for ceremonies wasn’t usually her duty - a lowly slave colt would often take care of that.
What's-his-face, the one with the red mane? He loves this job. Perhaps I shall love it too – especially under the circumstances.
She cocked her head as she listened to another chorus of shrieks. The priests and priestesses must be getting the congregation’s daily cleansing done early today. They were all ecstatic to hear that the guards had found the one she had foretold in her most recent prophecy: the avatar of the Goddess herself!
“Get your hooves off me, you thugs! You won’t get away with this!”
Speaking of the Goddess, the mare thought as she sat a few vials and brushes down on the countertops and turned towards the mostly ceramic basin set in the center of the room.
H ere she comes now.
Two burly unicorn stallions in elegant masks marched through the door, their horns lit up with a simple levitation spell. The diminutive mare they were magically dragging into the room was making their job difficult. She grabbed at every decorative pillar and unfortunate slave that crossed her path, but nothing hindered her steady progression into the room.
With a huff, the guards threw the little pegasus kicking and screaming into the empty central tub before closing and locking the door, leaving her shaking and trapped. Once the guards left, the prisoner slumped to the ground, weeping softly.
Interesting. I never should have doubted you, Goddess. You look exactly as I foresaw… more or less. She crossed over to the limp, trembling form in the depression in the center of the room.
This mare, called “Cherry” by the common ponies, didn’t exactly look like a Goddess. Her red and cream colored mane was disheveled, and her purple coat needed a wash - she must have been dragged pretty far through the dusty streets. Her feathers, thankfully, seemed aligned, and none looked to be missing. Well, Goddess, you’ll look as I foresaw once I’m finished with you.
To her everlasting credit, the “Goddess” didn’t lay in shock for as long as the mare had expected. After a moment, she took in her surroundings, then leapt to her hooves with a start upon seeing the room’s sole other occupant. The pint-sized mare tried her hardest not to gape at the serene mare gazing back at her.
Her dark turquoise mane faded to a dirty white at the tips, tied back into a simple ponytail. Her similarly colored tail was cut short. The mare’s collar, which she wore proudly around her slender neck, was red with an orange and purple band around it, and of simple design. Like Cherry, she wore a crystal bell on her tail. Her cutie mark resembled a sand dollar with a sun in the middle, although it didn’t hold Cherry’s attention for very long.
The mare’s sandy coat held her gaze the longest - or, more accurately, the thin scars that swirled around her barrel and legs, creeping up her neck and around her eyes. The scars seemed decorative, yet they looked as though they had been painful at one point. She was a pegasus like Cherry, but she tucked her wings in a peculiar way, never quite folding them completely.
Around each of her hooves she wore dark grey bands that shone like steel. The little mare looked up at the peculiar pegasus’ face, her golden eyes meeting the mare’s startlingly pale sea-green ones. She cleared her throat, speaking in a voice hoarse from screaming insults.
“Are… you here to hurt me too?”
The other mare shook her head and smiled as warmly as she could. The smaller mare took this as a good sign and climbed out of the tub.
“Did they take you too? Where are we?”
The taller pegasus shook her head, offering her hoof to shake. She responded to Cherry in a voice barely above a whisper, raspy with lack of use.
“I was taken long ago. We are in the Goddesses’s Cathedral. Do not fret, I mean you no harm.” She smiled weakly, almost unconvincingly.
“We’re where? I’ve never been in this part of town before, but I’ve heard some strange rumors… Oh, where are my manners? I’m Cherry Stellar, nice to meet you!” She held out a hoof shyly.
“I am the Prophet. It is an honor to meet you, my Goddess.” The Prophet bowed to the stunned little mare.
Cherry frowned at the title,her wings spreading outward as she backed away.. “I think you may have the wrong pony. I’m no Goddess… though the two that I sometimes pray to-”
“You will be,” the Prophet interrupted calmly, stunning Cherry into silence. “And before you hurt yourself, there is no use trying to escape. I tried to fly away when I was first brought here. As you can see, that did not turn out as well as I had hoped.” She spread her wings fully, showing off her plumage, and Cherry gasped.
They had clipped her wings.
The smaller mare gulped, pressed her wings to her sides fearfully and threw herself desperately at the Prophet’s hooves. “I can’t have that happen to me! I don’t know what I did wrong! Please, help me! I… I need to return home… after my mom was kidnapped, I’ve been taking care of the younger foals alone… they need me!”
The Prophet pet the tearful captive’s mane gently, ushering her towards the tub in the center of the room. “This will help you, and make things easier for you.”
Cherry turned and examined the basin closer, teetering close to the edge. It was fairly shallow, with white ceramic covering most of the sides. The rim and the bottom, however, were made out of a lighter metal, which struck her as odd.
“You will want these.”
Cherry turned to see that the other mare had removed the bangles from around her hooves somehow, and held one out invitingly, setting the other three down. Cherry hesitated, then removed her own hoofcuffs and set them aside. She raised her hoof and gently placed it into the larger band the Prophet held out, flinching as she felt the tingle of magic in it. With a muted hiss it shrank to fit perfectly around her leg, like a bracelet. It was tight enough to resist any attempt to adjust it, and loose enough to avoid cutting off circulation. She squeaked and waved the hoof around. “Get it off, get it off, get it off !”
The Prophet shook her head firmly, and held out another ring. “You will want to do as I say. If I can not get you to cooperate, then I will have to call the guards. They will be much more… insistent.” Cherry bit her lip. Sheher options for a moment before realizing she had no options, then allowed the other mare help her into the cuffs, each one shrinking to clamp around her lower legs.
With the cuffs taken care of, the Prophet ushered Cherry towards the tub. “There you go. Very good, Goddess. Now, lie down on your back with your front hooves up here.” She tapped the upper rim of the basin.
Cherry sighed resignedly before obeying, stepping into the shallow basin and rolling gingerly onto her back. The cuffs proved to be a hindrance, for as soon as they touched the metal on the floor of the tub, they resisted any attempt to lift them again. Goddesses help me,they’re magnetic. With difficulty, Cherry propped herself up against the side of the tub, resting her front hooves against the metal rim. The bracelets clicked against it, which caused Cherry to shift uncomfortably. She felt far too exposed.
“Good, but your hind legs need to be further apart,” the Prophet whispered from behind her before nimbly hopping into the tub. Her hooves gently spread Cherry’s legs wider, exposing her marehood. The trapped pegasus squeaked and blushed, trying to close her thighs and hide her nethers from the Prophet’s now irritated gaze.
“Enough.” The Prophet snapped coldly, startling Cherry into a brief silence. “I can make this hurt, if you continue to resist.” She held one of her hooves over Cherry’s crotch, and pressed down threateningly. The little mare’s hips tried to buck away as she stared into the Prophet’s blank gaze, a whimper escaping her lips.The Prophet watched Cherry’s growing apprehension as she realized that the Prophet wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she struggled.
With a deep breath, Cherry relaxed as much as she could, allowing the Prophet to spread her legs wide apart. Nodding, the Prophet jumped out of the tub, walking out of Cherry’s line of sight.
She returned a few moments later with a sparking crystal-tipped wand clasped between her teeth. Her gaze hardened before she tapped the metal rim of the tub with it, channeling a magical shockwave through it.
Cherry screamed in agony, arching her back as the electricity surged into her body through the bands on her forehooves and exited through the ones on her hind legs. She shrieked again, feeling as though she lost some feathers or even fur from that, and struggled against her restraints with all her might. To her shock, they didn’t budge an inch.
“Had you not fought back, I would have warned you beforehand, Goddess. That magical charge will keep your cuffs from moving from where I placed them.” The Prophet smiled as she set the wand down, “Do not worry, that was the worst of it… unless you continue to misbehave.”
Cherry nodded, blinking back a stray tear that threatened to trickle down her cheek as she tried to settle back against the edge of the basin. After the initial shock, the magical energy was contained to the two metal sections and the bands around her hooves, which hummed softly. “Wh-what are you going to do with me now?”
The Prophet stomped her hoof on the metal rim, making Cherry stiffen. A small drain in the center of the tub gurgled for a moment before pleasantly warm water began filling the tub from the holes. Cherry yelped as a trickle of water gently lapped against her hoofcuffs, but the magical electricity didn’t travel through the water; for that matter, it didn’t seem to hurt her new captor, who could touch the enchanted metal painlessly.
The Prophet turned to grab a brush and a few vials. “Why, I am going to bathe you. You hardly look like the Goddess you are, and it is my job to correct that.”
Cherry blinked as the rising water slowed its warm ascent, stopping midway up her snatch. She watched with fascination as the dust and grime that had clung to her tail and the submerged half of her hind legs swirled down the drain, leaving the water crystal clear. It was, of course, magic, done mostly for effect, and it clearly impressed Cherry. “Th-there’s almost no water in here, though...”
The other mare smiled and brought over a pitcher as she stepped back down to Cherry’s level, dipping it into the clean water and partially filling it. “I would not want you to fear drowning, Goddess. Now, while I clean you, there is one more way I must prepare you.” She poured out the warm water over the base of Cherry’s hind hooves, making Cherry giggle slightly as she watched the dirt swirl away.
The Prophet beamed at the minute mare before stepping out of the tub and returning with a thin metal rod that appeared to be… buzzing? She winked at her captive, then used a tattered wing to maneuver the rod towards Cherry’s abdomen. “You must be ready for the ceremony tomorrow, after all.”
She brushed the thin metal stick against Cherry’s leg, which jerked at the vibrations. Cherry’s face flushed as the Prophet held it just above her clit. “W-wait, what are you doing?” She tried to twist her hips to somehow impede the vibrator from touching her.
The Prophet purred as she brushed the rod around Cherry’s clit, making her squeak indignantly. “Why, I am making sure you are clean, inside and out. This is the easiest way to make sure your divine cunt is fresh and ready for the ceremony.”
With that, the mare gently pressed the rod against Cherry’s pussy lips, reveling in her protesting moans. The Prophet lined the rod up with her victim’s slit so the tip pressed against Cherry’s clit, and the rest of it pressed between her nether lips. Both pegasi watched as a thin strand of her juices swirled down the drain, the surface of the water almost eerily calm. Then the Prophet looked up at the trembling mare.
“This will sting slightly.” The Prophet tapped the base of the rod against the metal bottom of the tub. Cherry yelped as the magic coursed through her marehood and spread, tingling through her hooves. The Prophet smiled as she released the rod, which was magnetically held at its angle while still buzzing away. She stood and picked up the pitcher of water, filling it to wash her Goddess’s hooves.
“I d-don’t understand! Why are you d-doing this to me?” Cherry whimpered as she tried to jerk her hips out of alignment with the rod. Unfortunately, her cuffs held her spread-eagle, and all she could do was watch her arousal spiral around and around below the surface of the water before disappearing down the drain. Her wings unfurled as far as they could, a nervous instinct, the dust swirling away from the tips of her feathers.
The Prophet regarded her blankly as she listened to her prisoner whine. “Because to become the Goddess you were meant to be you must first be clean and pure. Then tomorrow the ceremony will begin, and you will be worshipped. First, however, I must take care of you. It is my honor and my duty, Goddess, as your Prophet.” She gently washed her captive’s legs, rubbing her hips and cutie mark reverently, her words uttered as a loving whisper.
Cherry cried out as the unceasing vibrations built her arousal.The continuous stimulation brought her closer and closer to the edge of her climax, despite her fervent protests. Her whimpers grew in pitch and volume as she felt herself almost reach her first orgasm…
… and then the Prophet bent the metal vibrator away from her clit, halting Cherry right before her peak.“Wh-wha?” She babbled, her hips humping the air in a desperate attempt to get the wonderfully evil sensations back. “I… why did you stop?”
The Prophet clicked her tongue sympathetically, and reached with one hoof to grab one of the vials she set near the edge of the tub. “Now, now, we will have none of that. Here, this will help soothe you a little. I picked a nice scented water to anoint you with. How does peach nectar sound?” She uncorked the bottle and gently trickled a little onto Cherry’s clit.
Cherry squealed . Unlike the warm bathwater, the scented water was ice cold, and tinted a faint orange color. She shivered as she felt it run down her slit, drizzling into the warm bathwater where it was also sucked down the drain. Cherry’s arousal faded slightly, but she still longed for the terribly pleasant buzzing.
The Prophet nodded in approval and gently released the rod, setting it back against Cherry’s clit. She hummed softly as her captive resumed her quiet whining, picking up the pitcher and washing away the dirt from the trapped pegasus’s stomach, beginning on the above-water portion of her wings. The dust traced its spiraling path down the drain along with the now steady stream of mare juices. The Prophet’s ears perked as she registered Cherry’s orgasm approaching. She set down the pitcher and tilted the rod away, much to the now obvious distress of her prisoner.
“Do not cry, Goddess! You are doing well! I am almost half done washing you, after all. You never did comment on the peach water. I assume that means you liked it, as I foretold.” The Prophet purred as she poured a little more of the scented cold water onto Cherry’s clit, ignoring the shrieks of protest as she denied her captive yet another orgasm. She released the rod and resumed washing her Goddess.
First her wings were carefully rinsed clean, every feather realigned and checked for damage. For one fleeting moment, The Prophet wished her wings were as pure and untouched as her Goddess’. If I had undamaged feathers like these, I’d strut around all day and night, and fly around the Cathedral for the glory of my Goddess ! Celestia above, I’d soar into Cloudsdale with grace unseen in any other pegasus, and all would see me as healthy, and they’d not stare at me so oddly, and... No, wait, the Prophet is supposed to be broken, as a symbol of sacrifice. It is an honor to look so fragile next to something so perfect.
Flicking her ears, the Prophet barely caught Cherry’s rapidly approaching climax in time. She hummed cheerfully as she tilted the vibrator just out of reach of Cherry’s bucking hips. Then she re-anointed her Goddess’ snatch with the cool water before resuming her careful ministrations.
She washed her chest next, combing the downy floof lovingly and starting on Cherry’s shoulders before having to pause again to halt her captive’s orgasm with another stream of peach-scented water. I certainly hope the priests and priestesses appreciate the scent I chose, though it will barely linger. The Prophet smiled at the thought of their ‘praise’ as she washed both front legs.
Cherry’s cries of pleasure grew shriller as the cleaning continued, only to cut off with a frustrated shriek as her captor halted her before she peaked. “Wh-why do you k-keep stopping m-m-me? I w-was so close to c-c-cumming...”
Cherry screamed at the Prophet as the icy water flowed across her clit. Had she been more alert, she would have been taken aback by her Prophet’s reverent chuckles as she massaged and washed her Goddess’ neck and face.
“I do as I am commanded, my Goddess. I was told - close your eyes, please - that a sweet, hoof curling, mind-numbingly pleasant orgasm disrupts the cleansing process, and would completely ruin the ceremony tomorrow. You would not want that, would you?” The Prophet delicately rinsed her captive’s blushing face and mane before pulling back the vibrator yet again, much to Cherry’s chagrin.
“Oh, and do not stifle your moans, please. While I can tell when you are close even without them, I enjoy hearing how you are doing. Now,” The Prophet purred as she drizzled more sweet water onto the poor mare’s winking slit. “I have finished washing you. All that is left is to brush out your mane. You are doing quite well and I… oh, for Goddess’ sake, what did I say?”
She pulled back the rod yet again before dousing her marehood and lower thighs with freezing water. “There, now do not stay quiet. I prefer listening to my Goddess’ sweet song. As I was saying, you are doing well, and I know you will do wonderfully tomorrow.” The Prophet’s smile was sweet, almost too understanding, as the vibrations resumed against her Goddess’ holy cunt, the edging feeling more and more intense as time passed.
Cherry blinked tears from her eyes as she tried to focus on the mare speaking to her. It looked like she was having difficulty concentrating, her arousal building faster each time her orgasm was denied. She didn’t seem to register the Prophet gently brushing her mane back, working through the tangles, or her soothing murmurs. All Cherry could focus on was the painful feeling of wave after wave of pleasure building and fading before it built completely.
No matter how she whimpered, no matter how she tried to buck her hips against the metal rod, she couldn’t reach the climax she so desperately craved. Her mind buzzed louder with every passing moment, the soft hum of the vibrator and the delicate ripple of the water blending together. The feelings of denial and pleasure mixed together too, transforming into a blur of pleasant sensations. The last thing Cherry remembered as her vision faded to black was her panic and concerns slipping away as she slumped over in the shallow tub.
The Prophet cradled her Goddess as she blacked out, gently supporting her shoulders and neck. With a deft kick that few would expect from such a frail-looking pony, the Prophet snapped the metal vibrator in half, ending the pleasurable assault on the unconscious mare’s clit. The Prophet banged a hoof on the bottom of the basin, and the magnetic spell ended, releasing Cherry’s limbs from their hold.
The room was silent as she held her Goddess close, save for the gentle gurgle of the water and fluids draining from the tub. Once it was dry, the Prophet set Cherry down on the floor of the basin gingerly before hopping out of it, rapping on the door to the chamber.
Almost immediately, the two unicorn guards sauntered into the room, taking in the scene. With a smirk, one of them levitated the Goddess’ limp body out of the room. The other surveyed the vials and brush lying on the ground, as well as the broken metal rod in the bottom of the tub.
“See to it that you clean that up before returning to your cell, prophet. The Goddess will surely be pleased once she’s been shown her true self.” With a curt nod, the other unicorn left the room, lingering outside to wait for the Prophet to clean up her mess.
The Prophet blinked, stunned into inactivity for a few moments before automatically moving to obey orders. She hadn’t expected acknowledgement for doing her duty, let alone praise! Though cleaning up would usually be a common slave’s job, she didn’t complain. After all, she had received the honor of preparing her Goddess, one she would not soon forget.
Besides, she thought happily as she replaced the bottles in the cupboard and disposed of the shattered rod. If the rumors I’ve heard about tomorrow are true, the Cathedral will be ringing with screams of all sorts.
“So, what happened the next day?” Ghost inquired, blushing. “Were there screams? What happened to Cherry?”
Sandy shrugged and passed a small wad of napkins to Misty, who was drooling and visibly making a mess on the booth cushion. “The next day was quite the aftercare session. I hadn’t felt that cared for in a long time.” She sighed wistfully, then started to pack her saddlebags.
“B-but it was setting up for a scene, wasn’t it? It had to be, you mentioned a prophecy!” Print’s hooves unconsciously wandering towards a damp spot between her legs.
“Oh yes,” Sandy said, smiling at the sight of her friends so flustered. “It was setting up for one of Cherry’s sessions. It was one of her fantasies, you see, about a goddess who was worshiped in a sexual manner. All consensual, of course. It took a long time to set that one little session up, even with the kind Cathedral ponies’ help. There’s an awful lot of paperwork involved in making somepony cum until they pass out. It went wonderfully, but that's a story for another time.”
Ghost sighed happily. “I’m just so happy to hear everything went well. I’ve never visited the Cathedral myself, but I’ve heard it’s quite the immersive environment. I bet those scars were phaser-induced.”
Sandy smiled as she stood up next to the table. “You’d be correct. It’s all part of my Prophet persona, you see. And the foreplay was something to behold as well. My ‘prophesizing’ is little more than subspace babble, but it’s always fun to be a part of somepony’s bigger fantasy.” She waved at her friends absentmindedly, checking her bags to ensure she hadn't forgotten anything. “Now, I must be off if I am to catch the next train to Manehatten. We must meet up again soon, though!”
Misty nodded and grinned. “How about at the Coffee Pup? We could totally bother Ghost while she’s working!” Ghost gasped, feigning offense before giggling and hoofbumping Misty.
“I’ll see you three later then. Same time next week, at the Coffee Pup?” The chorus of agreement made Sandy smile as she walked out of the sandwich shop, her notes tucked away safely in her saddlebags.
It was raining in Ponyville, Sandy found as she stepped out of the train. She blamed it on her fellow pegasi and their love of storm clouds. Though the plants looked greener and everything looked more alive, she still didn’t much care for it. It chilled her to the bone and left her mane a sopping mess. This time, though, she had a much bigger package to protect, though she’d wrapped it in a plastic bag as a preemptive measure.
She made her way over to the Ponyville Clocktower entrance just as the bell chimed seven. Perfect timing! She made it before the rush, so hopefully she could surprise her friends with-
“Hey, Sandy! Whatcha got there?” Glossy Print, in her eagerness, almost knocked Sandy over. She huffed and hid the bag away, trying to hide it from Print’s prying eyes.
“It’s a surprise, and I’d rather it not be spoiled. Let’s go over to the Subs shop, okay?” Sandy took Print by a hoof and led her through the portals into the great hall of Clocktower. A guard waved them by, smiling rather knowingly at Sandy.
Print bounced on her hooftips. “Oooh, the kinky kind of subs, or-”
“The sandwich kind, Print,” Sandy deadpanned, and wandered over to the shopping district of the Society. Admittedly, you probably could buy a sub in the Sub’s Subs if you asked nicely enough, but that wasn’t her plan. A daisy sandwich would do just fine, thank you.
“Right, right, that’s fair, I suppose. Hey, did you hear? Ghost and Misty had the most hilarious experience, and-” Sandy cut the excited earth pony’s tale off with a gentle boop to the muzzle, effectively silencing her.
“Can it wait until we get there, Print? I know you’re pretty eager to see what I have for you, and I must admit, I’m rather excited to show you.” Print nodded. They sat down at their regular booth and waited.
It didn’t take long for Sandy’s other friends to find their way over. Misty marched proudly into the sandwich shop, leading Ghost on a leash. Ghost was dressed up as a personal maid, and blushing a brilliant shade of pink that went well with her maroon uniform. “Look, I caught a Ghostie!” Misty giggled, making Ghost blush deeper.
“Alright, I know you all remember when we met up a few months ago to discuss our favorite Society stories, right?” The mares nodded, and Sandy continued, reaching into her bag. “Well, I’m pleased to announce that I’ve finished my latest book: a novel full of short stories based on the ones you told me. Here are copies for all of you.”
She passed out the freshly bound books, and her admired them. Ghost shyly prodded Sandy. “Um, so you brought a copy for yourself here? Are you going to read it to us?”
Sandy shook her head. “Not quite, Ghost. I brought my own copy because I was, um…” She felt at a loss of words. This was an easy request, so why was she suddenly feeling shy? “I was wondering if you all would consider… signing my copy?”
Misty was the first to break the awkward silence. Her laugh rang across the table as she reached over for Sandy’s book. “No worries, Sandy. Now, should I come up with some fancy unreadable signature for this?”
Ghost piped up, a mischievous grin on her face. “Why fake it, Misty? Your hoofwriting is naturally illegible!” Everypony laughed and passed around their books for each other to sign.
It was a wonderful sight, Sandy thought as she watched her friends laugh and mess around with each other. Friends were a wonderful gift, and each of their stories helped make her world a brighter place.
Sandy frowned. Was this some sort of real-life friendship lesson? Learned because of a kinky sex cult? She decided it didn’t matter, because it was true for her. She was the luckiest mare alive, to have such good friends whom she could count on.
