What else can you start with but your name, darling? Mine is Rarity. It’s just Rarity, no other names. Certainly not “Rarity Unicorn”. I’m not sure where that silly nickname came from. The name Rarity, and just Rarity, is important. It’s my brand as well, you see. I’ve put a lot of work into branding over the years, being a business mare and all. And really, that’s what started this for me – business. At least, that’s how I saw it then.

My friend, Twilight Sparkle, had come to me with a curious order. I told her I’d do it for free but she still offered to pay. I’d turned down the offer of money, and then she’d made a counter offer. The castle needed some work, and she had a significant amount of bits with which to pay for the work. The bits would be spent regardless, and she felt that I alone had the magnificent touch that she wanted. She just had to convince her new head of housekeeping that I was as skilled as she knew I was.

Of course, this added another level of intrigue. How could I turn down such a mystery? Twilight was in charge of her castle, and Mr. Corners worked for her. Beyond that, her requested clothes were quite risqué, a very out of character request from such a normally dignified and reserved mare. I could only assume that she and he had begun some sort of intimate relationship. To top it off, the normally specific mare described the work as “decorating, and other things you’re good at”. All together, it was an incredibly suspicious offer, and I never would have entertained the thought had she not been my friend.

I suppose I was worried. I’d never really liked Mr. Corners, he was an unnerving stallion. His gaze always lingered just a little too long and he spoke as though he judged everyone. Admittedly, everyone else seemed to like him, especially Twilight, so I’d just chalked it up to a character tick with him and assumed I was being too harsh. I trusted Twilight’s intuition, and if she’d decided that Mr. Corners was good enough for her to date, I was confident he was at least a good pony, if somewhat strange. It also didn’t hurt that the bits were enough to really jump start my Manehatten business plans, and I knew full well that Princess Twilight was offering an amount well within her means. Saying “Yes” was really the only option. Unfortunately, I hadn’t yet realized exactly what had… transpired.

If I had known, I still might have taken the offer. My motivation would have been different though, more clandestine and less entrepreneurial in nature. Bits are always the last thing on my mind when my friend’s well being is involved. I would have accepted the offer, gotten close, figured out what was happening, and then helped my friend. I suppose, in a way, that is what happened. I simply took a little longer and got involved a little more in-depth than I would have planned. Hah! Such an odd thought, isn’t it?

Anyways, she needed to take my example uniforms and convince Mr. Corners that they were of exceptional quality in order for me to get the “big job”, as she put it.

The way she’s said “convince” left me wondering exactly what she’d meant, so I ended up asking her directly. Not very ladylike, I know, but in this case I felt it was important. I was desperate for the information on her personal life you see. She shyly admitted that, yes, Clean was her special somepony.

I was ecstatic for her. Knowing what I know now, that memory is difficult for me. You have to understand, Twilight had appeared to not care about the opposite sex, or her own sex, at all before Mr. Corners came along. While it’s true that I didn’t much like him, he hadn’t acted dangerous or given off any serious warning signs, so I entertained the fantasy that they had found some sort of socially awkward love together. It sounded both romantic and adorable at the time. I’ll admit, I was enamored with the thought. I’ve always been something of a hopeless romantic.

I promised to keep her love life a secret for the moment, but still added it to my little pink book of gossip. How could I not? I assured Twilight that the uniforms would be beyond her expectations, and I went to work. I don’t normally make erotic accessories, but I was excited to be included in Twilight’s newfound joy. Even though it wasn’t my expertise, I researched and reached out to a few professionals in the business. I made sure that her uniforms were the pinnacle of fetish clothes, not for myself or my brand, but for my friend. I’ve always been willing to go the extra distance for a friend, especially Twilight. She always just seemed so innocent and lost in the real world, even though she was a princess. Silly, I know, but it’s how I felt.

Within a few days, they were done and she came back to retrieve them. I’m not embellishing when I say they were magnificent. Of course she was impressed. I remember how she seemed so animated and excited; she truly looked happy then. I thought she was in love. Maybe she was.

Wouldn’t that be unfortunate? If it turned out that before all this mess, Twilight had truly been in love with that stallion? I try not to think about that. Stay focused on the positives is what my therapist says!

When she left, she had an excited hop in her step, and I’m not going to lie, my imagination was steaming. I’d spent so long working on those accessories for her that I was simply dying to know how well they worked. I mused over what positions they might use, what they might do to please each other, where the clothes would end up once they were ready to go all natural for the evening. I even considered stopping by and picking up Spike for the day to give them some privacy, but decided against it.

I convinced myself that Twilight and Cleaned must have had a system for that. If I’d known their system, I’d have been horrified. Do you know they made him watch? I know that he’s older than he looks being a dragon and all, but still. Twilight is like his mother! Once it started, I’m sad to say that whatever they did to me made me… care less? It’s hard to explain, really. It was sort of like seeing the world through a different personality. I saw Spike, I knew how he felt, and I just… didn’t care. Of course, sometimes… well, that’s not important. It must have been awful for him. I simply can not imagine what he’s been through, the poor dear.

The next day, Twilight stopped by and seemed absolutely exhausted. She had bags under her eyes, moved slowly, and was walking with a particular limp I was ever so slightly familiar with. I chuckled at her presentation and the implications of her demenor. In my mind, it was obvious that the socially unaware Twilight wouldn’t realize how disheveled she looked.

When I asked how it went, she’d given me a sly smile, and informed me that it had been a long and busy night thanks to my clothes. I barely noticed, but she acted distressed then, almost nervous. I actively ignored it, wanting her to be happy so much that I imagined she was. It’s easy to see what you want when it’s a possibility. What nervous ticks she did have, I chalked up to the topic of conversation. It’s never easy to talk about one’s sex life at first.

Oh my. What a terrible excuse that sounds like now.

If I could describe how I feel about everything, well, it would be easiest with two words:

Regret and guilt.

My therapist says that I should not dwell on those feelings, that if I focus on the negatives they’ll consume me, especially after what happened. But sometimes I can’t help it. You see, the truth is that I don’t particularly mind what happened to me. Yes, it was wrong, but it wasn’t my first runway walk, as it were. I’d had my heart broken before. I’d been used and dropped like some stallion’s flavor of the week. Sure, this was a little more extreme, but it was the same story only told louder. What really, truly bothers me is what happened to everybody else. I’m a lot tougher than ponies give me credit for, but the others… well…

Sorry. Therapist says and all that.

Anyways, I decided to take her up on her offer. I dressed up in some finery to make a good impression and attended a formal lunch with Clean for an interview, pleased at both my success in helping my friend and excelling at a new craft. It was a good thing I’d locked up the boutique, as I never made it home that day.

If we have to be honest, I’m ashamed to admit that I didn’t make it back that night either...

Author's Note

I had no motivation to write the other thing. So have this thing. I might go back and write the other thing when I'm motivated.