50 Shades of Hay

The first thing I notice is the smell; leather, wood, polish and just a hint of citrus. The smell - combined with the soft subtle lighting - emits a pleasant feeling. The walls and ceiling are made of clean cobblestone, while the floor is old varnish wood; it gives off a womb-like effect, making the room seem more spacious then it actually is.

The second thing I noticed is the large wooden cross like an X fastened to the wall opposite the door. It’s made of high-polished mahogany with restraining cuffs on each corner. To the right of the X are two polished wooden racks that look like pool cue holders. However, on closer inspection, they hold various whips, paddles, riding crops, and strange looking feathery implements. Directly to the right of the door is a set of two mahogany chest of drawers; each drawer is slim as if they were designed for a museum. I briefly wonder what’s in them. Do I actually want to know?

I glance up at the ceiling. There is an expansive metal grid that covers the entire roof of the room with different manners of ropes, chains, and shackles hanging from it. Most of the binds appear to be on a pulley system, so they can be customized and moved around the room. In the left hoof corner is a six-foot-long polished wooden table with two matching stools underneath it.

But the single biggest piece of furniture in the room is the bed. It dominates the right wall, between the whip rack and the chest of drawers; it’s bigger than a king size bed, with four poles on the corners that reach up to the ceiling. There’s no bedding… just a mattress covered in red leather with red satin cushions piled at one end. At the foot of the bed is a large red leather couch, facing the bed. That’s an odd arrangement… to have the couch facing the bed – I smile to myself, in a room full of strange torture devices. The only thing I find out of place is which way the couch is facing.

I’m standing directly in the center of the room when I turn to find Rainbow, standing on her hind legs with her forehoofs crossed over her chest, leaning her back against the wall next to the door. She’s regarding me intensely, like I knew she would be. Her expression is unreadable. I walk over to the corner with the whip racks; the feathery thing has intrigued me. I touch it hesitantly. It’s suede, like a small cat-o’-nine-tails, but bushier with very small plastic beads on the end.

“It’s called a flogger,” Rainbow ‘s voice is quiet and soft.

A flogger… hmm. I think I’m in shock. I’m numb. I can observe and absorb everything around me, but I have no feelings about it. How else am I supposed to act when I find out my potential lover is some kind of masochist? So many questions cloud my mind. Why? How? When? How Often? Who? I walk towards the bed and run my hoof down one of the intricately carved posts. The craftsmanship is amazing.

“Say something,” Rainbow commands, her voice is deceptively soft.

“Do you do this to ponies, or do they do it to you?”

Her mouth quirks up, I can’t tell if she’s amused or relieved.

“I do this to mares who want me to.”

I don’t understand, “If you have willing volunteers, then why am Ah here?”

“Because I want to do this with you, very much so.”

“Oh,” I gasp. Why?

I wander over to the far corner with the padded bench and run my hoofs over the leather. She likes to hurt mares, that thought depresses me.

“You’re a sadist?”

“I’m a Dominatrix,” she says, her eyes are scorching and intense.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I want you to willingly surrender yourself to me, in all things.”

I frown at her as I try to process this idea. “Why would Ah do that?”

“To please me,” she whispers as she cocks her head to one side and smiles.

My mouth pops open as I realize, yes, that’s exactly what I want to do. But how do I do that with these torturous devices?

“In very simple terms, I want you, to want to please me,” she says softly.

I walk towards her until we’re standing a few feet away. “How do Ah do that?” My mouth is dry as I speak, do I really want to know the answer?

“I have rules, and I want you to comply with them. They are for your benefit and my pleasure. If you follow these rules to my satisfaction, I will reward you. If you don’t, I will punish you, and you will learn,” she whispers. I glance at the rack of canes and swallow as she speaks.

“And where does this all fit in?” I wave a hoof in the general direction of the room.

“It’s all part of the incentive package. Both reward and punishment.”

“So, what. Ya get your kicks by exerting ya will over me?”

“It’s about gaining your trust, so you’ll let me exert my will over you. I’ll get a great deal of pleasure, joy even, in your submission. The more you submit, the greater my joy – It’s a very simple equation.”

“Okay… but what do Ah get outta this?”

“Me,” she says simply.

Well now, that’s one hell of an incentive. But I don’t know if it’s worth all the pain she’s going to inflict on me.

“You’re not giving anything away, Applejack,” she murmurs, exasperatedly. “Let’s head back down stairs where I can focus. It’s very distracting having you in here.” She drops down onto all fours, turning her body slightly she extends her left wing, gesturing for me to follow her. I take a step back. I’m not in shock anymore, no, I feel something else… Fear… I’m afraid of her. Rare said she was dangerous, and she was right, how did she know? She’s dangerous to my health because I know I’m going to say yes, and part of me really doesn’t want to.

What the hay have I gotten myself into?

She frowns at me. “I’m not going to hurt you, Applejack.”

I know she’s telling the truth, but I’m still hesitant to accompany her. I step forward and allow her to drape her wing over my back. She leads me out of the room and down the stairs.

“I have something for you, if you agree.” We emerge into the small corridor, just off the main room and enter through the door directly opposite the 'playroom,' as she calls it. Beyond it is a bedroom with a large double bed, all in white… everything in the room – walls, furniture, bedding is all white. It feels sterile and cold.

“This will be your room. You can decorate it how you like, with whatever you want.”

“Mah room? Ya expecting me ta move in?!” I don’t even try to hide the horror in my voice.

“Not full-time. Just say, Friday evening through Sunday. We’ll have to negotiate all that, if you want to do this,” her voice is quiet.

“Ah’ll sleep here?”

“Yes.”

“But not with you.”

“No, I don’t sleep with Ponies, except you when you’re stupefied with drink,” her tone is harsh.

My mouth presses into a hard line. “Where do you sleep?”

“My room is upstairs. Come, you must be hungry.”

“Funny. Ah seem to have lost mah appetite,” I muse.

“You must eat, Applejack,” she scolds. With her wing still draped over my back she leads me out into the impossibly large room.

“I am fully aware that this is a dark path I’m leading you down, Applejack, which is why I really want you to think about this. You must have some questions,” she says as she wanders into the kitchen area, releasing her grip on me. I do. But where do I start?

“You’ve signed your NDA. You can ask me anything you want and I’ll answer.”

I stand at the breakfast bar and watch as she pulls a platter of cheese and grapes out of the refrigerator. She sets the platter down and retrieves some white plates from a nearby cupboard.

“Sit.” She points to one of the stools at the bar and I obey, if I’m going to do this, I’m gonna have to get used to it. But I realize that she’s been this bossy since I met her.

“You mentioned paperwork.”

“Yes.”

“What paperwork?”

“Well apart from the NDA, a contract saying what we will and won’t do. I need to know your limits, and you need to know mine. This is consensual, Applejack.” She sets a plate down in front of me and sits on the stool beside me.

“And if Ah don’t want to do this?”

“That’s fine,” she says carefully.

“But we won’t have any sort of relationship?” I ask.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because this is the only sort of relationship I’m interested in.”

“Why?”

She shrugs. “It’s the way I am.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Why is anypony the way they are? That’s a bit of a difficult question to answer. Why do some ponies like cheese while others hate it? Do you like cheese? Mrs. Jones – my house keeper – has left this for supper.” She takes a few slices of cheese, some grapes and a bagel from the platter between us.

And now we’re talking about cheese…

“What are your rules that Ah have ta follow?”

“I have them written down. We’ll go through them once we’ve eaten.”

Food. How can I eat now?

“Ah’m really not hungry,” I state wearily.

“You will eat,” she states simply. Dominating Rainbow Dash, it’s all so clear now. “Would you like some more wine?”

“Yes, please.” She pours fresh wine into my glass. I hastily take a greedy sip.

“Help yourself to some food, Applejack.”

I take a small bunch of grapes and set them on my plate. She narrows her eyes at me.

“Have you been like this for a while?” I ask.

“Yes.”

“Is it easy to find mares who want to do this?”

She raises an eyebrow at me. “You’d be surprised,” she states dryly.

“Then why me? Ah really don’t understand.”

“Applejack, there’s something about you. I just can’t leave you alone,” she smiles ironically. “And I want you, very badly,” her voice darkens. She takes a deep breath and swallows. I blush as my stomach does somersaults – she wants me… in a weird and creepy way sure. But, this beautiful, strange, kinky mare wants me.

“Eat,” she commands.

“No. Ah haven’t signed ya contract yet, so Ah think Ah’ll hold onto mah free will fer a little bit longer, if that’s alright with you.”

Her eyes soften, and her lips turn up in a smile. “As you wish, Miss Jack.”

“How many mares?” I blurt out.

“Fifteen.”

That’s… actually not as many as I thought.

“Fer long periods of time?”

“Some of them, yes.”

“Have you ever hurt anypony?”

“Yes.”

Holy shit.

“Badly?”

“No.”

“Will you hurt me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Ah mean, physically, will you hurt me?”

“I will punish you when it’s required, and it will be painful.”

I think I feel faint. I take another sip of wine. “Have you ever been beaten?”

“Yes.”

Oh… kay. I wasn’t expecting that. Before I can press her further on the matter, she interrupts my train of thought.

“Let’s discuss this in my study. I want to show you something.”  This is so hard to comprehend. I thought I was going to spend a night of unadulterated passion in this mare’s bed, but here we are, negotiating some weird sex slave agreement.

I follow her down the corridor that leads to the ‘playroom,’ only this time, we enter through the door at the far end of the hallway. Her study is a spacious room with bookshelves that line all of the walls, to the center left of the room is a large desk with an old style leather chair behinds it, and a smaller leather chair in front of it. Behind the large leather chair is a floor-to-ceiling glass window. She motions for me to sit in the small chair while she crosses around and sits in the large chair, she reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a piece of paper.

“These are the rules. They may be subject to change. They form part of the contract, which you can also have. Read these and we’ll discuss it.”

Rules:

Obedience:

The Submissive will obey and instructions given by the Domme immediately without hesitation or reservation and in an expeditionary manner. The Submissive will agree to any sexual activity deemed fit and pleasurable by the Domme excepting those activities outlines in hard limits (Appendix 2). She will do so eagerly and without hesitation.

Sleep:

The Submissive will ensure she achieves a minimum of seven hours of sleep a night when she is not with the Domme.

Food:

The Submissive will eat regularly to maintain her health and well-being from a prescribed list of foods (Appendix 4). The Submissive will not snack between meals, with the exception of fruit.

Clothing:

During the Term, the Submissive will wear clothing only approved by The Domme. The Domme will provide clothing budget for the Submissive, which the Submissive shall utilize. The Domme shall accompany the Submissive to purchase clothing. If the Domme so requires, the Submissive shall wear during the Term any adornments the Domme shall require, in the presence of the Domme and at any other time the Domme deems fit.

Exercise:

The Domme shall provide the Submissive with a personal trainer four times a week in hour-long sessions at times to be mutually agreed between the trainer and the Submissive. The personal trainer will report to the Domme on the Submissive’s progress.

Personal Hygiene/Beauty:

The Submissive will keep herself clean and presentable at all times. The Submissive will visit a beauty salon of the Domme's choosing at times to be decided by the Domme and undergo whatever treatment the Domme sees fit.

Personal Qualities:

The Submissive will not enter into any sexual relations with anypony other than the Domme. The Submissive will conduct herself in a respectful and modest manner at all times. She must recognize that her behavior is a direct reflection on the Domme. She shall be held accountable for any misdeeds, wrongdoings and misbehavior committed when not in the presence of the Domme.

Failure to comply with any of the above will result in immediate punishment, the nature of which shall be determined by the Domme.

Holy. Shit.

“Hard limits?” I ask.

“Yes. What you won’t do, what I won’t do, we need to specify our agreement.”

“Ah’m not sure about accepting money for clothes. It feels wrong.” I shift uncomfortably, the word whorse is rattling around my head.

“I want to lavish money on you. Let me buy you some clothes. I may need you to accompany me to functions, and I want you dressed well. I’m sure your current salary won’t cover the kind of clothes I’d like you to wear.”

“But, Ah don’t have to wear them when Ah’m not with you?”

She smiles. “No, think of them as a uniform.”

“Okay.” I’ve never worn a uniform before.

“Ah think exercising is a bit redundant, Ah work on an apple farm.”

She nods. “That’s true, and the results speak for themselves,” she smiles wickedly.

I smile coyly as I gaze back down at the piece of paper in front of me. “Ah don’t want ta go to a beauty salon, Ah ain’t into that ‘girly-girl’ stuff.”

She looks at me questioningly. “Really? After all the effort you put into looking tonight?” she states in a playfully mocking tone.

I point a hoof at my mane. “This was Rare’s hoof work, Ah don’t much care for all that frou-frou stuff,” I feign annoyance at her.

She smirks and hoofs me another piece of paper. “So, limits. These are mine.”

Hard Limits

No acts involving fire play.

No acts involving urination or defecation and the products thereof.

No acts involving needles, knives, piercing, or blood.

No acts involving gynaecological medical instruments.

No acts involving foals or animals.

No acts that will leave any permanent marks on the skin or fur.

No acts involving breath control.

No activity that involves the direct contact of electric current (whether alternating or direct), fire, or flames on the body.

Sweet Celestia. She had to write these down?! Of course – they all look sensible, and frankly necessary… any sane pony wouldn’t want to be involved in this sort of thing.

“Is there anything you would like to add?” She asks kindly as she rises from her seat and places her hoofs on the table.

Ponyfeathers. I’ve no idea. I’m completely stumped. She furrows her brow as she gazes intensely at me.

“Is there anything you won’t do?”

“A-ah don’t know...”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

I squirm uncomfortably. “Ah’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Well, when you had sex was there anything you were uncomfortable with, or didn’t like doing?”

My eyes widen and I blush.

“You can tell me, Applejack. We have to be honest with each other or this isn’t going to work.”

I squirm uncomfortably again and stare down at my hoofs, my ears flatten against my head.

“Tell me,” she commands.

I force out a nervous laugh, “Well… ya see, the thing is… A-ah haven’t, actually had sex before, so A-ah don’t know.” My voice is small. I steel myself and glance up at her. She’s wide eyed and gaping at me.

“Never?” she whispers.

I shake my head.

“You’re a virgin?” she breathes.

I flush and timidly nod my head.

She stumbles backwards on her hind legs, knocking the leather chair out of the way and sending it wheeling towards a bookshelf along the far wall. She stops when her back is against the glass window that makes up the entire wall behind her. She just stands there and stares at me for a few agonizingly long seconds. She breaks eye contact with me and her gaze falls to the floor as she slowly shakes her head. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, when she refocuses her attention back on me she looks angry, and she’s glaring at me.

“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” she growls.