After getting a few final pointers from AJ and achieving her first real orgasm in over a week, Twilight pranced quite merrily as she led Spike and Trixie through town. Ponies waved to her and she politely waved back, although couldn’t name a single one to save her life. However, her prancing quickly came to a stop when she suddenly found herself short of breath and a little dizzy. Spike quickly shepherded the mare to a nearby café and ordered the three of them drinks while Twilight rested.

“So, what’s your deal?” Trixie asked as she took a sip of her lemonade.

“Deal?”

“Yes. Although Trixie was shoved up a giant bear’s ass hole through most of it, she heard that your magic at the time was… the term ‘sensational’ comes to mind. The point is Trixie is wondering why you’re suddenly acting like an invalid.”

“Long story short,” Spike began, “Twi overexerted herself and now she’s paying for it. No magic except under controlled conditions, and carefully monitored exercise until she regains her strength.”

“If you think about it, that’s something we have in common,” Twilight said without thinking. Her sudden onset of exhaustion made her think that the diplomatic approach and seeking common ground might ease the tension with her new slave.

“Oh yes. We have lots in common,” Trixie said through a forced smile and gritted teeth. “You are resting after an accomplishment that’s still making front page news,” she pulled out a newspaper for emphasis. “Meanwhile, Trixie’s decision on compensating for her permanent lesser magic has resulted in incarceration, public humiliation, and finally enslavement.” Her eyes narrowed to dangerous pinpricks. “We have so much in common.”

Twilight looked to Spike for help. Even a social newb like her could tell when she fucked up royal and she desperately needed him to bail her out. Spike, however, just offered an apologetic shrug. He had nothing to say, meaning Twilight would just have to dig herself out of this hole.

Strangely, it was Trixie who ultimately broke the silence. “Speaking of news,” she began evenly, “Trixie recalls reading your name before.” She levitated a bit of sugar into her drink and gave it a stir. It wasn’t meant to be showing off, though. That would send the wrong message. Guilting Twilight, now that she’d seen that such a thing was possible, would prove far more effective for her plans. “That’s right. You’re one of the mares who resurrected the Elements of Debauchery and defeated Nightmare Moon.”

“Uh, yes,” Twilight hurriedly agreed, wanting to escape the oppressive awkwardness as quickly as possible. “The others and myself paralyzed the mare and used our magically endowed cocks to gang rape her into submission,” she recalled proudly. It was, after all, the sort of heroic tale that would be passed on for generations to come.

“Interesting,” Trixie remarked casually. “Trixie supposes the farm mare was another of those?”

“Oh yes,” Twilight said with only minimal salivation. “She’s Apple Jack and, in case it wasn’t obvious, represents the Element of Arousal.”

Trixie chuckled, committing these details to memory. Besides the name, this Apple Jack was apparently a mare that Twilight was not only infatuated with, but also trusted. “Trixie takes it you have a crush on this mare?”

“Congratulations,” remarked Spike flatly. “You have eyes.”

Twilight laughed. “Yes, well, since you’re going to be seeing a lot of them, I suppose I should tell you about my other fuck buddies. Going off the order in which their elemental affiliation became apparent, the next would be Fluttershy as the Element of Bestiality, which is pretty much as self-explanatory as it sounds.”

“Most of them are,” Spike added.

“Next is Pinkie Pie, who is the Element of Food Fetish. Then there’s Rarity with BDSM, Rainbow Dash with Domination, and finally myself,” Twilight proudly touched a hoof to her chest, “who represents the Element of Orgasm.”

Trixie nodded along as she quietly sipped her drink. “Quick question.”

“Yes,” Twilight allowed.

“The ‘D’ in BDSM stands for Domination, so doesn’t that make this Rainbow’s Element a little,” Trixie waved her hoof as if weighing her options, “redundant?”

Twilight blinked. “Come to think of it, you’ve got a point there.”

“Of course Trixie does,” she replied smugly and gestured up at her horn. “Trixie is a unicorn, after all.”

Spike rolled his eyes at what he once read was the fifth most overused joke told by unicorns. Twilight, however, was set off to heavy thinking. The drake decided to accommodate her by handing over his pen and another spare sheet of parchment. Twilight quickly snatched them up and began taking notes, muttering as she worked. With her occupied, Spike then turned his attention to Trixie.

“Yes?” Trixie asked after an extended silence of the small dragon staring at her with those green, reptilian eyes of his. “Can Trixie do something for you?”

“Given that I’m Twilight’s number one assistant and you’re just a slave, yeah,” he affirmed sternly. “I’m thinking there are several things you can do for me.”

Trixie blinked as she realized what was happening. “Yes. Trixie acknowledges that the assistant is above the slave in the hierarchy of the household.”

“Good,” Spike replied much more cheerfully. “So long as you remember your place and don’t cause any trouble, I don’t see there being any trouble between us.” Spike felt a little odd hearing these words come out of his mouth. He wasn’t sure why, though. The words sounded like the right things to say and seemed to come out with surprising ease. However, he still felt his tone was far more aggressive than normal.

“Fair enough,” Trixie conceded. “Trixie imagines this means that she must follow all of your orders, until and unless they conflict with her mistress’ orders, yes?”

“Sounds about right.”

Trixie nodded. “In that case, what sort of orders should Trixie expect to receive?”

That gave Spike pause as he considered. “Um, I guess we can start you out with cleaning and see how things progress.”

“Trixie is also a fabulous cook,” she boasted. “You have not lived until you have tried her lasagna!”

Spike felt torn. On the one hand, he didn’t like how this bitch was already stepping on his toes – even unintentionally – by implying that she was a better cook than him. On the other hand, he really liked lasagna. “We’ll see,” he allowed. “I handle most of the chores so Twi can keep her focus on her studies. So I guess you’ll be working under me,” he emphasized with an eyebrow wiggle, but even that felt a little off.

Trixie gave a short chuckle. “Well, Trixie can certainly imagine worse places to work.”

“Speaking of work,” Twilight cut in, startling those who had forgotten she was still there. “I want to stop by Rarity’s before we head home. Although she doesn’t appear to have any slaves of her own-” She paused to check with Spike. He shook his head. “-I get the impression that she’s the sort who’d know all about slave etiquette.”

“Oh joy,” Trixie deadpanned.

After giving Spike the notes to hold on to, another short walk took the trio to Carousel Boutique. Although the Ponyville veterans considered doing otherwise, they ultimately decided to give Trixie her due warning about how dangerous Rarity could be. After all, the point of this visit was for Twilight to learn how to be a better slave owner, not to be bound in linen and have her slave stolen right in front of her. Then again, would Rarity consider that rude?

“Ah, hello Twilight,” the fashionista greeted warmly. “And my scrumptious little dragon.” Spike blushed and bashfully shuffled his feet. “And…” Rarity trailed off as her eyes looked the familiar mare up and down. She then leveled her gaze on Twilight. “I’m assuming there’s an explanation.”

Twilight gave a somewhat tired sigh from having to tell this story again. “For her crimes against Equestria, Trixie has been made a slave. For my part in saving Ponyville, Molestia decided to ‘reward’ me,” she said, using her hooves for air quotes.

“I see,” Rarity acknowledged, once more training her eyes on Trixie. “Hmm. I didn’t want to say anything back when you were putting on a show. Although now I suppose there’s no harm in pointing out that your look is, well, a little drab.”

Trixie blinked. “Say what now?”

Rarity scoffed. “Just look at you.” She picked the mare up in her magic and began rotating her body around. “Your hooves are a mess, your fur is full of split ends, I’d be surprised if you even used generic shampoo,” she began, listing off Trixie’s many faults. Fashion horse even commented on the looseness of Trixie’s ass. “I’m terribly sorry, Twilight. But as this slave’s owner, her poor upkeep doesn’t exactly reflect well on you.”

Twilight was taken aback by this turn. “Wha… bu… I just got her like this! If anything, it’s Molestia’s f-”

“But you,” Rarity shoved her hoof in Twilight’s face, “are the one who chose to parade her around in this dreadful state! At that point, the fault lies with the current owner.”

Trixie just stood there, shaking as conflicted emotions warred inside her. She really wanted to feed this uppity bitch a hoof sandwich; maybe get her right in the eye to ruin that pretty face of hers. However, Trixie stayed her hoof when she felt the collar shift around her neck. As a slave, assaulting a free pony would just land her with more trouble. Instead, Trixie chose to bide her time, wait for an opportunity to claim her revenge, and consider this new piece of information that had caught Twilight off guard.

“Honestly, darling. What will the neighbors think?”

Twilight managed to swallow her surprise and gave a nod. “That’s sort of why we’re here. I’ve never owned a slave before and I’m looking for pointers.”

“We just got back from Sweet Apple Acres,” Spike added.

Rarity whickered her bemusement. “I’m sorry Twilight. I really don’t mean to be rude. However, if you chose to first visit Apple Jack to learn about how to treat slaves, then it really shows your ignorance on the matter. Not to worry though.” Before the others could protest, Rarity set Trixie back on the ground and swiped her leash, leading her deeper into the store. “I believe I have just what you need.”

It took a second for Spike and Twilight to realize what was happening and they ran after Rarity. The next room was Rarity’s more casual dungeon; the one she used for personal leisure, rather than at client request. Trixie put up a meager and confused struggle, but was quickly affixed on her back to an obscenely comfortable couch with satin scarves tied around her hooves and a magic nullifier on her horn.

“What the hell is going on!?” Trixie demanded, renewing her struggle. Her answer came in the form of another scarf magically wrapping around her muzzle and tying itself in a cute little bow.

“Now then,” Rarity began, magically holding a riding crop in a manner that resembled a drill instructor and making Trixie flinch. “First of all, I may have been a little… harsh regarding how the Apples treat their slaves. It’s not that their methods are necessarily wrong, but they do not suit my personal tastes. It was wrong of me to inject such bias in a matter as intimate as slavery.”

“Intimate?” Twilight asked, now fully engaged. She didn’t even think as she reached out for the notes she’d taken earlier.

It took Spike a second to remember what she wanted and hand it to her. Twilight had gone to full student mode. As such, given her lack of dildos, Spike elected to sit down between her legs and eat her pussy as she learned. It was a familiar enough position that afforded him the chance to be close to Twilight as well as take in the lesson.

Trixie watched the drake go to work with captivated curiosity while Rarity beamed her approval.

“Yes. Intimate. You see, darling, there are many different kinds of ponies in this world. Of most relevance to your new status as a slave owner are the dominants, or doms, and the submissives, or subs. Generally speaking, most slaves are ponies who have come to terms with their status as an extreme submissive. They seek to rid themselves of everyday responsibilities and leave all the hardships of making decisions to another. In this, they find a special sort of freedom that appeals uniquely to them.”

“AJ’s slave said something about that,” Twilight recalled. “I forget his name, but he said he likes living his life dedicated to making his master happy and not worrying about things like money.”

“I imagine he did,” affirmed Rarity. “Ponies tend to have a much higher representation of submissiveness than other races, which is why most slave markets consist disproportionately of ponies.” As she spoke, the marshmallow mare began circling Trixie and sliding the end of her riding crop along the mare’s body, making her moan through her restraints. “Now, I’m certain you can find a number of books if you want to know the history of slavery and it’s impact on the world-”

“I tried,” Twilight grumbled, only to yelp when she received a smack right on the snoot.

“No talking during the lesson,” Rarity warned, aiming the crop threateningly at Twilight.

“Yes ‘m,” the student squeaked back.

Rarity smiled. “Anyways, as a first time mistress, you are here to learn how to properly treat your new slave, yes?”

Twilight quietly nodded.

“In that case, I suppose we should start with an example you’re already familiar with. The slaves that the Apple family keeps are what are referred to as ‘work horses’ in the slave industry. They perform hard labor and low skill tasks, generally outdoors. These are generally what most ponies think about when they hear the word ‘slave’. They’re hard working, not necessarily all that intelligent, reek of sweat, and often have the sort of muscles you could grate chees on.” Rarity shivered as a certain image came to mind and her crop was inadvertently stabbing into Trixie’s teat. “Oh. Terribly sorry about that.”

Twilight was also letting her mind drift. Specifically, she was imagining using AJ’s body as a plate with which she could enjoy her meals. She once read about drinking shot’s out of a pony’s naval and was suddenly struck by the urge to try it.

“Work horses are but one type of slave,” Rarity continued. “If you want to get technical, there are actually hundreds of categories and subcategories describing the slaves’ unique duty, position, and so on. However, for this lesson, we will simplify things to what I believe will be most relevant to you.”

Twilight nodded as her pen scribbled away while Spike kept his ears open.

“Trixie,” Rarity pushed her crop under the blue mare’s chin and pushed her head up, “I imagine, will be placed in the broad category of a ‘house slave’. The name is fairly self-explanatory. She’ll live in your house, do chores, run errands outside the home if need be, and all-in-all be at your beck and call whenever you need her.”

Twilight frowned and cautiously raised her hoof.

“Yes,” Rarity allowed.

“As fascinating as all that sounds, I already have an assistant for that.” Twilight gestured down at Spike. “What do I need Trixie for?”

Trixie, despite her stoic expression, could not help but give a slight wince at Twilight’s thoughtless remark. On top of all the humiliation she’d already been put through, being considered useless was especially painful.

Rarity shook her head, causing her mane to bounce. “I’m afraid you’re missing the point here, darling. A house slave is meant to assist, yes. However, they are much more of a status symbol!” She struck a dramatic pose. “Ponies who come to see you will take note of the slave you choose to allow in your home. She will be judged on her appearance, demeanor, and overall usefulness. It’s just one of the many ways that the elite enjoy competing with one another… which, now that I hear the words coming out of my mouth,” she deflated, “I realize isn’t exactly your style.”

Twilight shook her head, confirming Rarity’s fear. “Oh dear. I appear to be injecting my own bias again.”

Spike raised his claw.

Eager for a distraction from her apparent lack of forethought, Rarity called on him.

The drake pulled back and wiped his lips of the excess juices. “Twilight likes things orderly. Her idea of fun is unshelving all the books in the library and putting them back according to some new system she just invented.”

Twilight felt the wall of flat stares from the two mares and drake trying to beat her down. “… wat?”

“She can get hung up on the details, but overall she likes when things are in their place and functional,” Spike continued. “I was actually thinking Trixie could, well, shadow me while I do my daily chores. That way she can learn the ropes and we can figure out what role she’ll play.”

Trixie nodded emphatically. Between the scary white one and the dangerously naïve purple one, she was reasonably certain that the green and purple one was the only sane one in the room.

Rarity beamed. “Oh, Spikey-wikey. I knew there was a reason you were my most favorite dragon in town,” she cooed, making Spike blush.

Sane, Trixie silently assessed, but still stupid, or just a child, or maybe a stupid child with a crush.

“That sounds like an excellent idea. Twilight, darling. Given that you are new and inexperienced, I propose the best solution would be to think of your new slave as a sort of intern. You make the rules and she obeys. Actually thinking about the slave being a slave can be a little overwhelming for first time masters.”

“Did you seriously just tell Twilight to stop overthinking?” Spike deadpanned.

“Even I noticed that one,” Twilight added bemusedly.

Rarity whickered.

“Also, aren’t there any special rules on slave etiquette?” Twilight added. “I heard that there are certain signals you can give a slave to inform them on things without actually talking to them.”

“True,” Rarity allowed, “but that is more for high society slaves. There are indeed standardized signals you can use in training, but they aren’t exactly mandatory. It’s like dog training. Sit, lie down, beg, and so on.”

“I think Twilight would appreciate seeing the standardized stuff,” Spike informed.

“I really would.”

“Very well,” Rarity allowed. “Perhaps I should sign you up for a subscription to Bondage Monthly. It’s this delightful magazine with all the latest trends and tips regarding proper slave care. Speaking of which.” Rarity used her magic to spin Trixie around, pull her ass cheeks apart, and point the crop right at the mare’s ass hole. “This. This right here is an insult that needs to be addressed as quickly as possible.”

Twilight blinked. “Trixie’s ass? It looks fine to me.”

“Her, pardon my Prench, ass hole is a disaster, Twilight. This kind of thing cannot be allowed to stand.”

Twilight furrowed her brow. “I’m still not seeing why that’s a big deal. So she didn’t take the best care of herself and got her ass a little stretched. Honsetly I’m a little curious to see how that compares with the other ass holes I’ve fucked.”

“Twilight, darling. This mare is your property now,” Rarity stressed, nonplussed at how Twilight wasn’t seeing her point. “Perhaps an analogy closer to home,” she thought out loud. “Ah! When you’re unshelving books, when the shelves are barren and books are stacked haphazardly around your library, would you feel comfortable inviting guests over?”

“Of course not,” Twilight said, aghast.

“Why?”

“Why?” Twilight asked back. “Because… the books… and the shelves…” She gestured impotently, trying to express the point that seemed so obvious that it wasn’t even worth describing.

“Unsightly, isn’t it?” Rarity asked smugly.

“Of course it is! Why would I ever want to invite ponies over when my shelves are so…” She trailed off as it finally clicked in her head. “… oh.”

“Indeed, darling. The same principle applies to the state of your slave. Even if you do not wish to go out of your way to impress, there are some things that respectable ponies simply do not do. I recommend a full medical checkup and get these orifices of hers – now yours – in prime condition. Perhaps you could even take her to the spa?”

“Spa?” Twilight asked, starting to descend into panic mode. “Checkup? Oh Faust! What’s having a slave going to do to my insurance!?”

Spike quickly latched back onto Twilight’s cunt, nibbling her clit just enough to hold her back from totally losing it.

“Mmmmh!” Trixie said through her bindings.

Rarity turned to the collared mare with a sour expression. “If a slave is asking to speak without her master’s permission, it had better be or a good reason,” she intoned threateningly.

Trixie blanched, rethought her intentions, and finally gave a nod.

“You have one chance to say something useful,” Rarity warned as she removed the mouth binding.

Trixie took a second to pop and stretch her jaw, electing not to look Rarity in the eye, because that bitch was scary. “Most provinces treat slaves as dependents, like foals. Trixie has heard of some ranchers buying more slaves than they actually need just for the tax break.”

Twilight snapped out of her panic and regarded Trixie considerately. “Really?”

Rarity touched her hoof to her chin. “Come to think of it, I believe I read that same story in Bondage Monthly.”

Trixie nodded. “Slavery is pretty important to Equestria’s economy, so slave owners are given quite a number of incentives by the government. Trixie recommends a trip to town hall to double check, though.”

Twilight’s eyes began to sparkle with unbridled joy at the prospect of having an excuse to awash herself in the ecstasy of government bureaucracy. Everyone else had a rational response.

“Is there anything else we should know before we go?” Spike asked.

Rarity thought. “I’m terribly sorry for being so underprepared. Normally the ponies with whom I discuss such matters are already familiar with the culture. Here.” She levitated several copies of Bondage Monthly into Spike’s claws. The magazines were several months old and had clearly seen better days. “I’m already done with these copies. The information to subscribe is in the back. I’ll also see if I can hunt down one of my old books on slave training techniques.”

“Gee, thanks a lot, Rarity,” Spike said as Twilight snatched the magazine to begin her reading. “Is there anything we can do for you?” he asked, feeling his stomach sink the moment the words left his mouth.

The look in Rarity’s eye became downright predatory as she regarded the little drake. Gently she caressed his cheek with her hoof. “Oh think nothing of it, Spikey-wikey. Twilight is a valued customer and you have already done so much to offer your assistance. This is just returning the favor,” she said with a posh, dismissive wave.

Trixie glared apprehensively at the white one, not trusting a word she said.

“Of course,” Rarity continued. “If, down the line, you should require a more thorough training regimen for your slave,” she turned a sadistic grin upon Trixie as she magically undid the blue mares bonds, “then I do hope you keep me in mind.”

Twilight looked up from her magazine. “You’re a slave breaker?” she asked, trying out the term she’d just learned.

“Not professionally, no. However, I should appreciate the practice, I think.”

“Meep,” Trixie squeaked.

“Can do,” Twilight saluted, grabbing Trixie’s leash in her mouth and hurrying out the exit. Just because she was grateful for her friend’s generosity didn’t mean she wasn’t totally freaked out by Rarity as well.

Author's Note

And so we see that slavery in Equestria has a bit more nuance than most might assume. Twilight will certainly enjoy the new reading material, studying the classifications, demands, tips, and everything else the magazine writers feel is important for their readers to know. And all the while, Trixie is listening, learning her role right along with Twilight and Spike.

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