It was the night of the big debut. The streets were dark, and the runway stage was the brightest thing around. Ponies from all walks of life took their seats, with the ticket buyers getting nice seats in front while everypony else – mostly the locals – were content to stand along the outskirts of the crowd.

Among said VIPs was Hoity Toity, one of the biggest big wig fashion hot shots in Canterlot. Everyone knew this because it said so on his nametag, which automatically made it true. He was the sort of pony with his nose so high that he was effectively staring at his own ass the whole time when he walked. How a pony could do that without breaking their neck was a mystery for the ages. His fur was an elegant gray, while his mane and tail had a naturally posh poofyness. The guy even wore sunglasses at night. Upon arriving at his reserved seat, he had one of his servants toss it aside and replace it with their own face —a pony such as he was accustomed to certain luxuries, after all.

“That pony is everything I want to beeeee!” Rarity growled through clenched teeth as she peeked through the curtain, shaking and almost ripping the curtain down. “Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Fine,” she told herself. “Everything’s fine. There’s no need to pannnn —What if something goes wrong? What if a stitch comes undone and the fabric disintegrates? What if I went overboard on Apple Jack’s apples? What if there’s a starving pony in the crowd, and they try attacking Pinkie? What if—”

“Rarity!” Spike stage whispered, grabbed her by the cheeks, and pulled her down to eye level. “Everything. Is. Fine,” he said slowly and carefully as he so often did with mares having freak-outs. “You did your best. And Rarity’s best is the best, isn’t it?”

Rarity squeaked and nodded with surprising meekness. When did Spike become so domineering? More importantly, why didn’t he show this side more often? The firm grip of his claws mixed with that confident and authoritative tone was doing things for her.

“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” Spike continued. “You’ve done the best that anyone could possibly do. And if any of those so-called experts don’t like it,” he smirked, “then I will personally write to Molestia and have them declared legally brain dead.”

“Y-you would?”

“For you, Rarity. I’d do anything.” His tough-guy façade fell as his crush came forward, causing him to lose himself in Rarity’s eyes.

Regaining control, Rarity smiled appreciatively and kissed Spike on the nose. “Thank you, darling. That really means a lot to me.” She lifted herself out of his grasp and did an awkward dance, shaking the anxiety right out of her system. “Alright, onto the show!”

“He’s good,” Gilda whispered into Trixie’s ear. “Like a pony whisperer or something.”

“Pssh, this is nothing. You should see him when Twilight starts putting up magical barriers, and he still brings her back down. Now that is impressive.”

“Woah. Does he give lessons?”

There was no time to answer. Now that Rarity was in the right headspace, the show was finally underway. The DJ began the music, and the lights started to rotate to get the audience’s attention. And Spike, adjusting his bowtie and hat, spoke smoothly into the mic. “Since the beginning of time. The elites of Equestria have longed for pony fashions that truly express… the essence… of their very souls.”

“Oh, he is real good.”

“Patiently waiting decades, no, centuries… for the perfect pony gown. Today, at long last Equestria, your wait… is over. Let’s hear it… for the breathtaking designs—” The curtains lifted, the lighting carefully set only to show the silhouettes of the models. “—of Ponyville’s own—” Finally, everything lit up, showing the nine models in all their glory. “—Rarity!”

Gasps of shock and awe followed as the mares took the stage. The audience was abuzz with whispers, and Spike did his best to repeat all that Rarity had explained about each dress. Twilight’s gown captured the sparkle of the stars, AJ embodied everything that was desirable from both Apples and apples, Fluttershy was elegance incarnate, Rainbow’s sleek design projected strength and durability, Pinkie’s dress was almost as sweet as the mare wearing it, and Rarity was the very picture of regal poise. After what felt like an appropriate pause, the six mares walked up to center stage, cameras flashing and ponies voicing their approval. Then the platform began to rotate, and the cheers grew louder as the mare’s stood in place, looking stunning as they were presented for all to witness and adore. Fluttershy wore specialized contact lenses and earplugs so that she could pretend to be back at her cottage and not at the center of attention, but the rest were eating it up. Spike followed up with the extras. Trixie held her head high, which, unfortunately, drew attention to her slave collar as Spike played up her pride in service to her mistress. Gilda didn’t walk so much as strut, almost dancing as she unintentionally channeled the ghost of Michael Jackson as she showed off her cool. And lastly, Spike came forth with a plainer strut, not talking himself up as much as the others, but still making it clear that he was part of the group.

“Goodness me.” Even in awe, Hoity still managed to sound stuck-up and condescending. “Such elegant and varied designs. And all of this from one mare?” he asked, and an aid confirmed. “My word, this is a travesty, I say!”

There came an audible ripping sound as seven of the nine models all turned to check on Rarity; Fluttershy was still in la-la land. Her dress looked elegant as ever, with not a stitch out of place. However, her face had been frozen as if she’d received the kiss of death. That ripping… had been her soul.

“Yes indeed,” Hoity continued. “A travesty that such talent has remained hidden for all this time.”

Then came the sound of soul mending as Rarity beamed with life renewed. After all, the world was a worthwhile place, and there was no need to go on a killing spree.

“I must know who is responsible for such glamorous designs. Who can I thank for gifting me a glimpse into the future of fashion?”

“Laying it on a little thick, ain’t he?” Rainbow muttered.

Hoity craned his neck to look at the back of the stage. “Come on out, my dear. Let all of Equestria acknowledge you for your wondrous art!”

With ladylike daintiness and heart aflutter, Rarity cleared her throat. Without being prompted, Spike hurried over and escorted the mare to the edge of the stage towards Hoity, microphone at the ready. Fashion horse fluttered her eyelashes as she took in the crowd. All eyes were upon her. She was the center of attention and praise. Ponies looked upon her with more than distant respect and fear, as she was accustomed. This was admiration. This was love for her work and lust for the mare responsible. Flashing lights, whispers of approval, and the support of those she held close. This moment was as close to mathematical perfection as equinely possible. Looking down at the stallion who was her ticket to fame and stardom, she need only exchange a few pleasantries, and her future would be set.

Then, to the surprise of everyone – except Pinkie, who should stop reading ahead – Rarity did not upchuck. Such a term was too mild for what actually happened. Rarity projectile vomited right at Hoity’s face, spewing with such force that the stallion was actually knocked backward. Now everyone was gasping in horror instead of reverence. Her brain not yet caught up with the travesty that had just befallen her, Rarity tried to salvage the situation by opening her mouth again. She spewed even harder than before, a stream of weaponized sick shooting through the crowd and leaving no one unstained.

“Everypony run!” It was as good advice as any, and the crowd scattered. Rarity tried to stop them and beg them to stay so she could explain herself, but each attempt only ended with more casualties.

“Get ‘er!” AJ declared before pouncing. She had no idea what was happening, but for the good of everyone, including Rarity, marshmallow pone needed to be stopped. And for her altruistic intentions, the apple picker got blasted right in the face. “Augh! It got in mah mouth!”

It was a solid ten minutes of pandemonium as ponies panicked and Rarity’s friends tried to subdue her. When Twilight’s magic failed, it was Gilda’s strength that managed to clamp the white mare’s vomit hole shut. Against all reason, Rarity never stopped struggling, never stopped fighting to make things right, explain herself, and salvage the show. In so doing, she’d managed to snipe Hoity from halfway across the town and knock him out cold with a partially digested carrot chunk. It was only through a desire not to spew themselves that Rainbow and Pinkie managed to not succumb to laughing fits. It all came to an end when Rarity was unceremoniously tossed in the tub, and Fluttershy – having lost her contacts and plugs in the carnage – blasted her with the coldest shower possible.

“Aaaaah!”

The danger had finally passed, and Rarity quieted. For a time, the only sound was the ambiance of the shower. Outside, the eight heroes had dropped wherever they happened to be standing, heavily panting as though they’d slain a beast more terrible than any they had yet faced. They certainly looked like they’d been through a battle, or rather like they’d taken a trek through the sewers. Their clothes were an utter mess, but most were too drained to care.

“I, huh, didn’t know you, huh, ponies could do that,” panted Gilda. She was leaning against Rainbow, who was lost in a giggle trance.

“It… shouldn’t,” Twilight struggled to say. “By my estimation, Rarity just threw up five times her own volume. That’s just… I don’t even know!”

“This had better not be your stupid futa magic acting up,” Trixie grumbled. “Because if it is, Trixie recommends that you check the return policy on those alicorn damned Elements.”

“Is that it?” AJ questioned. “Did… did Rarity…? Yeah. How does that work?”

“Unintended side effects?” Twilight answered uncertainly. “Maybe… maybe Rarity’s feelings of anxiety interacted with the… the…” She trailed off, unable to finish her thought over the smell of week-old cabbage.

Too emotionally drained to console the weeping mare in the tub and unsure of what else they could do, everyone departed the Boutique and tread carefully through the warzone outside. Finally, they all returned home, threw their formerly fancy clothes in the wash, and jumped in the shower. Many scrubbed so hard that they risked creating bald spots, often requiring assistance from the family/housemates to get those hard-to-reach places that the sick had somehow seeped into.

***

The next day, eight creatures returned to the Boutique, impressed by how the town had already come together to clean up most of the mess. Inside, they found a tiny white filly waiting for them in the main display room.

“She hasn’t come out all night,” Sweetie informed in sisterly worry. “It’s pretty bad. She won’t even talk to me.”

“Don’t worry, Sweetie,” Spike assured with a tender hug. “We’ll do what we can to help.” And he and the others marched past, heading upstairs to give it the old college try.

“Whaaahahaha!” came the cry from the bathroom.

“Spewenstein’s awake,” informed Pinkie helpfully, earning a magical smack to the face from Twilight.

“I’m never coming out. I can never show my face in Ponyville again!”

“Aw, come on, Rars. So ya had a li’l… nerve attack. We’ve all been there,” AJ tried to reassure.

“Oh, really? Have you ever thrown up so hard that you knocked a pony unconscious?”

Rainbow threw her face into her hooves, fighting with all her might not to let her chortles be heard.

Even AJ had a hard time keeping her lips from quivering. Under her breath, she mumbled, “If Ah did, you’d know, cuz Ah’d probably brag about it.”

Hearing this, Rainbow slammed her face into Gilda’s chest fluff and screamed with all her might, making the griffon shiver.

“I used to be somepony,” Rarity ranted. “I used to be respected. I made dresses. Beautiful, beautiful dresses! But now everypony is laughing at me. I’m nothing but a laughing stock. Whaaaa!”

“You’re not a laughing stock, Rarity,” assured Twilight.

“She kind of is,” Rainbow admitted bluntly after her brief recovery, only to get a shush from purple smart. “Well, she is.”

“Leave me alo-ho-ho-ho-hone! I want to be alone.” From the outside, it sounded like Rarity was throwing herself around the confined space in search of a substitute for her fainting couch. “I want to wallow in… whatever it is that ponies are supposed to wallow in!”

Pinkie grinned. “Well, right now, they’re all wallowing in-hrmph!” That was the sound of Pinkie trying to talk with four different hooves shoved in her mouth at once.

“Is Trixie hearing things, or is there a sad violin playing?” Everyone perked their ears and confirmed.

“Oh, good. I’m glad it wasn’t just me,” said Fluttershy.

“This is awful,” Twilight bemoaned. “What do we do now?”

“Um, panic?” Fluttershy offered, earning a scoff from Rainbow.

“That’s your answer to everything.”

“Well, we obviously can’t leave Rarity like this,” AJ stated, motioning to the closed door.

“She’ll become a crazy cat lady,” added Pinkie, speaking perfectly clear despite her mouthful.

“But she’s only got one cat,” Twilight countered. “Also, how can you still talk with your mouth so full?”

“Give her time, and this isn’t even close to my record,” bragged the pink one.

“Psst, Twi,” Spike waved purple smart down to his level and whispered. “Probably not a good idea to bring up the possible futa connection. It’s not gonna help.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because it is the dragon’s job to compensate for mistress’s underdeveloped commonsense,” Trixie stated dryly. “Trixie also agrees that throwing theorems around won’t help after suffering such a horrid humiliation.”

“Oh, yeah, smart mare?” Twilight challenged. “Well, how would you fix this?”

“Oh, yes,” Fluttershy whispered excitedly. “You must have a lot of experience with humiliation and… Oh, sorry!” She squeaked and shrunk back.

Trixie scoffed. “Pshaw! Trixie does not experience humiliation, because the Great and Powerful Trixie cares not for the opinions of classless plebeians. The Great and Powerful Trixie learns from her mistakes, refining her craft, and presses ever onwards to the greatness she so rightfully deserves!”

AJ was the one to break the silence. “Cut down on the narcissism, ‘n’ that actually sounds like a mighty healthy mindset.”

“It is, isn’t it,” Trixie agreed. “Hey, wait a minute!”

“Well, I’m still concerned that this might be an Element issue,” Twilight interjected. “If it is, then severe stress might result in similar disasters happening with the rest of us.”

Rainbow waved dismissively. “We can save that for later. Right now, we’ve got a mare crying her eyes out in the bathroom.”

“Which might turn out literal if we don’t address the underlying issues here.”

“Trixie has observed that mistress Twilight goes through frequent bouts of high stress on a daily basis,” she said flatly. “And combined with her,” she motioned to Fluttershy, “undiagnosed agoraphobia, Trixie estimates that everyday stressors are not a cause for immediate concern, and that stressing yourself over not getting stressed is the definition of self-defeating.” She looked around and asked, “What? Trixie pays attention to Spike’s methods.”

Twilight conceded with a huff. “Okay, fine. We’ll put the big issue aside in favor of helping with Rarity’s feelings,” she said with barely hidden contempt. “So, what do you propose?”

“Appeal to her ego,” chirped Pinkie, now freed of pony hooves in her maw. “She’s still the best seamstress in town. Plus, that Hoity guy said all that good stuff about her.”

“The paper!” Gilda cried in alarm and dove down the hall. She returned in under a minute with the morning newspaper. “We forgot to look at ours.” She unfurled it, not needing to look far before she found the relevant article on the front page, and flinched. “Eeegh, no.”

“That bad, huh?” AJ asked.

Gilda shuffled her shoulders uncertainly. “First few lines are about the vomit attack, but the rest of the article is pretty complimenting about the dresses, so that’s good at least.”

“What about Hoity?” Spike asked. “He’s the big shot, so his opinion is gonna matter the most.”

“Let’s see here. Ah. ‘Despite the frightful case of stage fright, I found the’ blah-blah, very enticing and alluring,” Gilda read with a smile. “Good presentation, pretty models, and…” Her look turned sour. “Lovely for a griffon? The fuck does that mean?”

“Patience, Gil,” assured Rainbow. “We can deal with that shit-head later.”

“Right. Thanks, babe. Hmm. Yeah, it mostly looks good. Sounds like she can’t be a model, but she’s still got a future as a designer and dressmaker. That’s what she really wants, right?”

“E’yup.” AJ slammed her hoof to the door. “Hey, Rarity. We’ve got the mornin’ paper here ‘n’ it—” Before she could finish, the door opened a crack, and a hand made of magical aura shot out, snatched up the paper, and retreated before the door closed again. “Well, alright then.”

Everyone stood around in awkward silence, waiting patiently for Rarity to read and give them her verdict. It seemed like a coin flip whether this would make things better or worse. And then she screamed.

“Wha-ha-ha!”

“W-was that a good scream or a bad scream?” Fluttershy asked. “It’s sometimes hard to tell with her.”

“He liked my designs!” Rarity announced in a voice that sent Opal reeling in agony. She then flung the door open, catching AJ on the nose. The mare wore a pink bathrobe and bunny slippers, unsurprisingly having cleaned herself off after last night. Whatever her state of emotional distress, Rarity was not the sort of mare to let herself be seen in an unkempt state. “Did you hear? He liked my designs!”

“Yeah, we know,” Rainbow replied, rolling her eyes. “He said that last night.”

“But don’t you see? It means that the show wasn’t a complete disaster after all. I won’t have to pack up my things and go into exile. This is stupendous. I’ve never had to go into exile, you see, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to dress warm.”

“Think ya can calm down a bit?” requested Gilda. Then, at Rarity’s confusion, she gestured to herself and the pegasi, all with their front appendages covering their ears. “Not a fan of being screamed deaf outside a rock concert.”

“Goodness, sorry. But this is still such amazing news,” Rarity expressed at a more reasonable volume and hugged the paper to her chest. “I still have a future!”

“Okay, yeah. Real happy for you, Rars,” Twilight said, going through the motions. “Now that you’re feeling better, I’m going to have to ask you to visit my lab so we can run some tests.”

“Gracious, darling. Whatever for?”

Twilight pressed on before she could be stopped. “Because no single pony should be able to upchuck like that, at least not without some serious magic at work. So, unless you’ve come across some additional mysterious artifacts as of late…” She paused, motioning for Rarity to reply, and eventually, got a head shake. “Then the next logical assumption is that this was a side effect of your futa cock altering your body in unexpected ways in response to abnormal stress levels.”

“That… does not sound good.”

“It most certainly does not,” Twilight agreed. “Now come on. Get that fine ass in gear so we can get some testing done.”

“Hold on.” Rarity checked the paper once more. “Is Hoity still in town?”

AJ shrugged. “Probably. Guy like that comes off as the sort who can’t stand ta be dirty. He’d clean up good ‘efore headin’ out.”

“Yes, I do believe that you’re right. Well then, I suppose I’m off to—”

“No!” Twilight stomped her hoof. “The last thing we need is for you to have another stress attack and vomit the guy’s wig off.” Rarity pulled back, aghast. “Actually, on second thought, go ahead. I’ll bring my equipment. That way, when you humiliate yourself in public for the second time in less than twenty-four hours, at least I can get some scientific data out of it. How’s that sound?” Then, as if she could hear the mare’s thoughts, Twilight leveled a stink eye on Trixie. “I have better situational awareness than you think.”

Rarity bit her lip. “Okay, I see your point, crude as it may be. However, etiquette demands that I cannot let him leave without an apology. Sure, this review is mostly positive now, but Hoity is known for his fickleness. One slip up at any point can ruin me forever.”

“Question.” Rainbow raised her hoof. “The guy insulted my bitch. If I were to ride him until his pelvis breaks in retaliation, would that reflect poorly on you? I’m not a fan of sacrificing one loyalty for the sake of another, but I can’t let this stand.”

“That’s very sweet of you to ask, darling. Just wait until I’ve said my piece and am out of sight. After that, you’re free to do as you wish.”

“‘Preciated,” Rainbow said as Gilda nuzzled under her chin.

“So, how ya gonna apologize without bein’ face-ta-face? Sounds like letters wouldn’t do.”

Rarity turned to Twilight. “Surely, there must be something I can do. A proper session of aftercare can make all the difference between good sex and bad sex, you know.”

“Sorry, but I don’t know what to tell you. Nothing you or anypony can say will convince me that you’re not at least as stressed now as you were last night, if not more so. If you get near him, you’ll spew.”

“Near?” Spike questioned. “Twi, you know some projection spells, right? Can you just project an image of Rarity so that she can apologize from a safe distance, like a go-between only less impersonal?”

Rarity’s eyes lit up.

“Eeeeh.”

“Wh-what does that mean?” Rarity whimpered.

“Image projection isn’t exactly my specialty, and doing something in real-time and not just a recording can be tricky. I mean, I can do it, but it’d be like the work Ponycasso famous for, vs. the doodles he made while still in diapers. So if you’re willing to sacrifice quality, that might be the best we can—”

“Ahem!” Trixie cleared her throat, cutting off both Twilight’s explanation and Rarity’s imminent bawling. She thumped her chest and coughed a couple more times, feigning to be nonchalant. “Goodness. Pardon the Great and Powerful Trixie, showmare, star of the stage, and master of the bedazzling arts.” She coughed again and added with a shit-eating grin, “Must have been something she ate.”

Everyone was stunned for a solid few seconds before Twilight spoke up. “But… I thought you had weak magic?”

Trixie’s smugness morphed into a scowl. “Small mana pool,” she corrected. “There’s a difference. Trixie used to own a number of energy crystals for storing excess magic, which she would then employ during her shows. Trixie’s magic is for sprinting, able to do quite a bit in the short term, but not long distance. We can’t all be lesser alicorns who can lift whole space bears, mistress.” She almost spat the last word.

“Well, I certainly don’t know any projection spells,” Rarity interjected. “If you know what to do,” Trixie nodded, “Then what do you need? I’ll give you anything.”

“Anything?”

“Anything!” Rarity shouted in a near Royal Canterlot Voice, blowing Trixie’s mane back.

Trixie’s grin grew wide and devious. “Well…”

“Trixie,” Spike warned. “Be nice.”

Rolling her eyes, the blue unicorn huffed. “Oh, fine. Hmm. Trixie requests exemption from being held in bondage captivity by Rarity for one full year.”

Rarity winced.

“No matter how many times Trixie enters your store, or does anything else that might provoke you,” she amended. “No bondage.”

Looking like she was sucking on a lemon, Rarity eventually capitulated with a sorrowful huff. “Oh, fine, you ungrateful bitch. You are free from my generous and heartfelt expressions of love for one full year. But keep in mind that knowing that I can’t have something will just make me want it more. So, when that year ends…” She trailed off, her grin sadistic and maniacal.

“Trixie understands. Do we have a deal?” She offered her hoof.

“Deal.” And they clopped.

Pinkie opened her mouth to speak.

Not like that!

Pinkie deflated, but Twilight certainly had something to say. “Uh, not to interrupt, but I’m pretty sure I could have just ordered Trixie to help. You didn’t have to make a deal without me, right?” She looked around for advice. “Right?”

“Technically, yeah, but nah,” AJ explained concisely. “Ya could do that, but it’s kinda seen as bad form ta get special favors from somepony else’s slave without that slave’s say so. This was a deal between the two ‘f them, so as long as it don’t inconvenience you none, it’s fine.”

“Heh-heh,” Trixie laughed guiltily. “Funny you should mention that.”

***

Sometime later, Hoity was posh-walking over to the train station with his slaves and aids in tow. He was sparkling, clean as a whistle, but still felt the need to check himself now and then for feelings of phantom stickiness.

“Hey, Smuggy!” called a scratchy and gruff mare.

Hoity turned, initially sneering at the unkempt blue pegasus, but then recognized her mane. “Oh, you were from the show last night.” His eyes trailed up and down her frame. “I see that Rarity’s dresses do wonders, even for the aesthetically challenged.”

Rainbow’s eye twitched at the stallion’s brazenness, though she also suppressed a chuckle at the rustling from nearby bushes. She imagined the others were holding Gilda back from teaching this guy some manners, but she was willing to be patient and enjoy the building anticipation. For now, she set up the projector screen beside her. “Rarity wants to talk to you.”

Hoity, visibly afraid, began to back up and pull one of the collared ponies in front of him. “Slaves, protect me. Shield my splendor with your lesser beauty.” The stallion currently being used as a pony shield had an I’m-so-done-with-this expression.

“Don’t worry. She’s at a safe distance,” Rainbow assured. “She’s just talking through some other unicorns.”

“Um, beg pardon?”

“Just watch.”

Way off in the distance, but not further than Rarity’s sniping range from last night, white, purple, and blue unicorns came into view. The latter unicorns’ horns began to glow as their magic mingled to prepare the spell. Trixie handled the setup while Twilight provided the extra power. So with Trixie staring at Rarity dead on, her spell was cast, and the projector screen lit up. The blank sheet glowed brightly before becoming awash with a myriad of formless colors that quickly solidified into Trixie’s vision.

“Um, hello,” came Rarity’s voice, her body still coming into focus. “Hello. Can you hear me?”

“Oh, my!” Hoity sounded almost as impressed as he’d been last night. “A live projection spell, complete with sound? This backwater hick town never ceases to impress.”

AJ almost released Gilda for that one.

“Oh, good. I can hear you just fine. What about the sound on your end? Is it good?”

“Oh, yes. Quite splendid,” affirmed the perpetually stuck-up pony. He then regained his composure, turning his nose back up. “Am I to assume that you intend to explain yourself for last night?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Toity. I can assure you that my… that my faux-pas was purely an accident. I would never deliberately ruin such a fabulous outfit as yours.” A mare cleared her throat off-screen. “Oh, and I’m sorry for spewing on the rest of you, too.”

“That’s actually surprising,” Hoity admitted.

“Pardon?”

“The realm of fashion is, shall we say, a domain for the eccentric. A pony putting on a show only to vomit me halfway across the town isn’t even the fifth most eccentric thing that’s happened to me this month.”

Rarity blinked. “… Seriously?”

“Quite. The most fashion-forward visionaries of the industry are almost as famous for their quirks as they are for their work. It’s something of an open secret, though we try not to let outsiders in on it. Don’t want ponies trying to make their mark out of pure crazy without any sense of aesthetic, after all. Haw-haw-haw.”

“Even his laugh sounds fake,” Pinkie whispered, feeling personally slighted.

“Well, I suppose that makes sense,” Rarity allowed. “So… you’re not upset with me?”

“Oh, I was at the time. My cufflinks alone probably cost more than most of these houses, so having to scrub them clean of such putrid filth was most distressing. However, given that you’ve come to apologize, and in such a novel manner, I have no choice but to accept.”

“Y-you do?” Rarity looked like she might reach Pinkie levels of glee.

“Naturally. If I don’t snatch you up now, some other fashion pony will steal the credit for welcoming you into the fold. With designs like those as your debut, I can see wonderful things in your future. Had things gone differently, that apple outfit alone would have driven me to seek the nearest apple-related consumable.” AJ tightened her grip on Gilda, forgiving the stuck-up twat now that she knew he had such good taste. “I simply cannot wait to see what you do next, though I advise that you get your nerves under control before your next big presentation.”

Rarity blushed and averted her gaze. “I’ll… see,” she said while Twilight fixed her with a stern glower.

“So, is that it then?” Rainbow asked the projection. “Everything good?”

“I believe so, darling,” affirmed fashion horse, positively over the moon with joy and not feeling the least bit guilty for not warning Hoity. “Thank you again, Mr. Toity.”

“Oh, please. Call me Hoity.”

“Very well then, Hoity,” Rarity tittered and waved. “Ta-ta.” And the projection went out.

“What a lovely mare,” Hoity thought aloud. “A shame about her nervous stomach. I’d have loved to share a night of passion with her.” He turned to one of his uncollared aids. “She’s a futa, you know. I wonder what her cock might taste like.”

“I think I can help you there,” Rainbow offered, smirking as she swaggered forward.

“You can? How so?” Hoity asked, oblivious to the griffon that was now stalking his way, body low and ready to pounce. His slaves and aids, seeing her coming, began to back away.

Rainbow closed the distance until she was almost nose-to-nose with the smug stallion and whispered to him. “Pretty for a griffon, huh?”

“I... don’t follow.”

“That griffon is my bitch,” Rainbow informed coldly, though her smile was wide and vindictive. “You hurt her feelings, ya know.”

Hoity’s expression fell, finally remembering the rumors he’d heard about this mare. “Sh-should I be running?”

“Too late!” And he was tackled, restrained, and flown off in ten seconds flat.

***

Dear Princess Molestia

This week I may have discovered a new facet to our Element-granted futa cocks. When stricken with an abnormal level of anxiety, Rarity was able to vomit up five times her own volume, and with a force that simply isn’t possible for an unenhanced pony body. Previously, I theorized that our futa penises and testicles could generate far more spunk than that of a normal stallion. Still, now it seems that the same principles may extend to other bodily fluids. This latest incident may bolster my early hypothesis of our futa parts being not only a perpetual source of magical energy, but having the ability to convert that energy into physical matter under certain circumstances. So far, these circumstances include the emotional highs of sex and extreme stress. I’m currently running some tests on Rarity and will update you as my research develops.

Yours Truly

Twilight Sparkle

P.S.

Because both Spike and Trixie think they know what these reports are for better than I do, I’ll also add that when somepony offers to do something nice for you, especially for free, you shouldn’t be too picky. Being a choosing beggar is just shitty. Not that I or any of the rest of us did that this time. It just seems like a commonsense thing I thought up after the fact.

Author's Note

That concludes this episode. It took a good bit of research to figure out a good way of presenting the dresses. However, as usual, the major focus was character interaction. These guys are just so fun to play with, and I especially like how Trixie, Gilda, and Spike are coming along. Also, that spew thing just came out of nowhere, but it worked out. Things were going too smoothly, and I needed some sort of conflict, so this seemed to suit the situation and build on the lore I’ve got going.

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