“Sweetie Belle is a fuck slave. Sweetie Belle loves having her master’s sperm inside of her. Sweetie Belle doesn’t care which hole her master uses. All of Sweetie Belle’s holes belong to her master. Sweetie Belle loves the flavor of cum on her tongue. Sweetie Belle loves the feel of her master’s gift filling her anus. Sweetie Belle begs her master to cum inside her cunt.”

Sweetie Belle panted as she sat within the Slave Maker 4000, eyes barely open as the voice echoing in her skull continued. She could clearly see an image of herself before her, naked as the day she was born, in between a stallion’s legs. This self image was licking the traces of cum that was still on her master’s, NO, the stallion’s member while the helmet added in its scent. The other Sweetie Belle looked so blissfully happy, almost to the point where her pupils where shaped like hearts. To add to it all off, Sweetie could see that this phony Sweetie Belle was dripping mare juices onto the floor. As she watched and listened, the Slave Maker 4000 continued to stimulate both her clit as well as both her nipples. Not to mention the constant feeling of contentment that flowed into her.

How long had she been like this? She honestly couldn’t say as her head felt so sluggish right now. She was aware that some time had passed, for she could still recall a few things with her tired mind. Sweetie Belle had fought this thing a few times, trying to focus on a memory or someplace more pleasant. Each time had been met with near instant punishment, forcing her to see herself in a horrific state while administering pain which only served to further crush her resistance The last time she had tried she suddenly saw herself being eaten alive by Timberwolves, the smell of blood filling her helmet for a moment while the pain caused her to tear up. Had she slept at all? How many days or weeks? No, she must have slept, even if just briefly, or she would have surely died by now. It was hard to tell because even when the closed her eyes the images she was forced to see where still there and the voice still continued to speak. She was also vaguely aware that several times she had felt the pick of a needle on various parts of her body. Where they had pricked, she was too tired to recall anything beyond the slight irritation they had caused. What they were for she had no idea.

She also knew that more than a few times she had been given food and water through humiliating means. From the tube in her mouth Sweetie Belle could feel something moving through it right before her stomach began to fill up. It could have been liquidious like a protein shake, a slush, or anything in-between. The only way this could have been more humiliating for her was if she had been forced to get down on all fours and eat food out of a dog bowl. Yet it was not surprising that they were not doing that for it would have given her a greater chance at escape. While it was bad, the way they gave her water was far worse. The first time it happened was well before her first meal, the tube in her mouth sliding out so suddenly that Sweetie Belle believed she was being let go. That hope was quickly dashed as she found that she was unable to close her mouth by some means before something else had slid into the hole were the feeding tube had been. The moment it touched her lips, Sweetie could tell that it was some sort of phallusreplica. It shape was identical to the one Rarity had given her for her eighteenth birthday and Sweetie could even feel the veins on the member against her tongue as well as a somewhat salty taste like sweat. It was then that the droning voice in her head would tell her that if she wanted something to drink, she would have to suck on it. Sweetie had naturally refused to do this, even as the machine began to torment her private areas while filling her with a sense of dread. She endured it all until finally it was removed allowing her the briefest moment of victory before the tube was once again forced down her throat. Such a victory, however, came at a heavy cost as the machine continued to work her body, her juices slowly dripping out in the process. Her mouth became dry and the need for water quickly became almost unbearable. It thrusted in and out of her mouth, rubbing the skin raw and peeling off layers. So much so that when replica was brought back she barely put up a fight, trying to open wide to avoid the pain. Tears had begun to run down her face as she complied to their demand, at first sucking lightly and getting nothing. It soon became clear that if she wanted something to drink she would have to put her all into this, sucking as hard as she could while bobbing her head as much as she was allowed. With her level of skill, Sweetie was only able to get a few small squirts of water followed by pleasure that was sent to her private areas before it was finally taken away.

What was clear, however, was that this demonic machine was working. With her mind this tired along with the amount of stimulation she was being exposed to, Sweetie Belle’s will was growing weaker and weaker. More than once she had realized that, in her head, she was repeating what the voice was saying! Somehow the machine recognized when she was doing this for it gave her additional pleasure in order to encourage this behavior. It was only through sheer force of will that she was able to stop, but each attempt took a little more out of her. When she wasn’t repeating those words in her head, Sweetie found herself thinking about who her master would be. If he would be kind and love her. The images she saw gradually bothered her less and less. Like the image of her slave cunt being filled by the great cock of her master, spreading her beyond anything she had ever had before as cum slowly escaped. The other Sweetie looked like she was in the middle of an orgasm, with her eyes rolled back and tongue hanging out like some animal. Or an image of her licking the ponut of another mare with a slutty smile on her face. Her body also seemed to be getting more responsive to what she was being subjected to. More than once her captorss had played with her breasts, teasing her nipples until she came.

The image before Sweetie Belle changed again. This time Sweetie saw that her double was not alone but in a room with dozens of other mares. All of them had nicely rounded and soft bodies the exemplified the female form without having them look fat or boney. She, along with all the others, had on leather collars with O rings dangling around the middle as well as piercings on their nipples and clits. Many of these mares were presenting themselves, exposing their hungry cunts and ponuts by spreading them with their fingers. A few were even pulling on their nipple rings. On all of the faces, there was a lust filled longing as well as a happiness that Sweetie Belle could strongly feel more now than ever before.

Her conscious mind remembered something from school. Two kinds of conditioning: classical and operant. Classical worked to modify existing behaviors, in her case sexual by creating a new factor that would modify the response. In this case, suppressing her disgust and exaggerating her sexuality so she would fuck anyone, anything, anytime without hesitation. Operant worked to teach her new behaviors. How to suck, how to ride, how to work her hips to maximize a master’s height of climax, how to eat pussy and ass. How to smile and wink even when she wanted to shout and sob. Her mind was being rewritten.

“Sweetie Belle wants to be the perfect slave,” said the familiar voice. “Sweetie Belle wants to belong to her master like all of his other slaves. Sweetie Belle wants to become master’s broad mare. Sweetie Belle longs to carry master’s foals.” The image shifted once again. She was laying at the hooves of a stallion, her belly buldged due to her clear pregnancy. All around her the other slaves looked at her with envy that she had been the one chosen by their master to carry. A few were even reaching out to touch her with reverence. Contentment no longer flowed into her but the purest joy Sweetie Belle had ever felt in her life. The pleasure being given to her tits and clit became so strong that she came on the spot all while the voice droned on, the other slaves assaulting her all the while with a kind of sexual worship “Sweetie Belle will do her duty as a perfect slave. If Sweetie Belle gives birth to a colt, Sweetie Belle will gladly give him up. Sweetie Belle is not worthy of raising a future master. If Sweetie Belle gives birth to a filly, Sweetie Belle shall teach her to be a slave for their master.” The images changed again, showing her an older Sweetie Belle next to a mare of eighteen who looked very much like herself. Pride was now flowing into her for the mare was about to be examined by their master, to see if she was worthy to please master. Making master happy was Sweetie Belle’s life goal, the only thing that mattered.

“But Sweetie Belle isn’t a perfect slave right now.”At that, Sweetie Belle’s eyes widened before the image shifted. Sweetie Belle was in with another group of slaves, but now there was a difference. All of the other slaves were on their flanks, legs spread with one hand being used to spread their pussy lips as far as they could. Their other hand was kneading their breasts in order to show off their pulpiness. Sweetie Belle was the only one who was different, using her hands to try and conceal herself from her master’s gaze. Sweetie Belle could feel an emptiness now that scared her. She wanted to return to that joyful bliss she had been feeling before.

“Sweetie Belle knows there is still much for her to learn,” the voice said. “Sweetie Belle wants to learn everything she needs to be a perfect slave. Sweetie Belle wants to forget everything that isn’t important. Sweetie Belle is not important. Sweetie Belle knows that until master says she is ready, another slave must take Sweetie Belle’s place. Another slave must carry master’s foal instead of Sweetie Belle. Sweetie Belle does not deserve to even clean master’s cock. Please master, help Sweetie Belle become the perfect slave.”

“Please, M aster, help Sweetie Belle become the perfect slave,” echoed Sweetie Belle in her own head.

Sweetie Belle slowly opened her eyes, the memories of the dream already fading from her mind. For some reason she felt moisture around her eyes. Had her dream been a bad one? It could have been. Perhaps it was a dream where Master Spike had abandoned Sweetie Belle. That would be a bad dream!

Slowly rising from her rightly place on the floor onto all fours, Sweetie Belle saw Mistress Ember pacing across the room. The lady of the house was still wearing Master Spike’s oversized shirt and boxes as she paced back and forth in front of the window. While such attire did nothing to show off her upper figure, it would allow Master Spike to see those wonderful slender legs of her! But, why was she pacing? Sweetie Belle noticed that her mistress was shooting a glance out the window every once in a while. Her wings also twitched in a way that reminded Sweetie Belle of her lessons on pegasi, how they would have to fight to keep their wings from extending when they were horny. Was Mistress Ember horny now and waiting for Master Spike to return?

“Mistress Ember,” said Sweetie Belle with a proud slave smile on her face. At once the blue dragoness turned to look at her, eyes widening as if she were surprised to see her. Like she had forgotten that Sweetie Belle was there. As for Sweetie Belle, the slave remained where she was but had gotten onto her knees. One of her hands was raised up next to her breast, her wrist pushing into it while at the same time bringing her other hand to her lips. “If you wish it, Sweetie Belle can pleasure you until Master Spike comes home.” Sweetie Belle licked her fingers slowly.

Lady Ember’s wings fully extended before her eyes had a chance to widen. Her scaly cheeks darkened considerable as her mouth dropped. “Wait, hold on!” she declared before shaking her head. “What in the name of the Bloodstone are you talking about?”

“Sweetie Belle believes that Mistress Ember is either agitated or simply horny,” replied Sweetie Belle as she gave the dragoness a sultry look before getting back on all fours. The dragoness stood there, watching Sweetie Belle as she moved closer on all fours, her large breasts almost touching the ground,her nipple rings being dragged, with wide eyes. As she crawled, Sweetie Belle made sure that her flank and tail sashayed from side to side so that the scent of her constant arousal filled the room before pausing at the Mistress’ clawed feet. They looked so different than a pony’s hooves yet so much like her Master’s. Sweetie Belle bent down, raising her ass high into the air while also flicking her tail to the side, before kissing them. Mistress Ember let out a noise of surprise as Sweetie Belle’s lips made contact followed by a gasp as the slave’s tongue pressed against the digits. The only noise Sweetie could make were moans of ecstasy, her pony cunt growing wet by this simple act.

Slowly, Sweetie Belle began to move her tongue up the dragoness’ leg while her moans grew louder and sluttier. Her body was close to her Mistress’ so that she could feel the softness of the slave’s fur and breasts. She reached up to grip the rim of the borrowed boxers and, as she moved her head away, pulled them down far enough so that Ember’s slit could be seen. Sweetie Belle smiled as she brought her face closer to it. In turns of shape, it was no different than a pony’s. The scales around it were smoother as well as a lighter shade of blue than the rest of her form. Sweetie Belle also noted that it was twitching slightly, not exactly winking like a mare’s cunt would but slightly moving all the same. There was also a wetness to it along with a scent that reminded Sweetie of sulfurous soil.

“Sweetie Belle can pleasure you, Mistress,” whispered Sweetie as she moved her head in a bit closer. So close now that she was sure that Mistress Ember could feel her breath against her clit that was starting to poke out. “Sweetie Belle shall do as Mistress Ember commands. Sweetie Belle will help Mistress Ember cum buckets or work her up until Master Spike comes home. Sweetie Belle has never pleasured a dragon before, but Sweetie Belle will try. Please, Mistress, let Sweetie Belle take care of you.” Slowly, Sweetie Belle stuck out her tongue and extended it towards her mistress’s clit.

“NO!” yelled Ember as her claws reached down to grab Sweetie Belle’s shoulders before suddenly pushing her away. As the slave mare landed on the ground, she felt something smack her flank hard enough for her to cry out. In a panic she turned her head around just in time to see Ember’s tail moving aware from her while the dragoness herself was panting. Her clawed hands were shaking and fumbling about as she tried to pull up the boxers that Master Spike had given her.

“Mistress, Sweetie Belle just wanted to-” began the slave mare but was interrupted when Ember’s tail slashed out again. This time it struck the ground next to Sweetie, bits of the stone floor flying up as a result.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” snapped Ember as she barred her fanged teeth. She was panting loudly, bits of flame coming out of her nostrils as she glared at Sweetie. “If I wanted something like that, I would either say it or take it myself. A dragon does not need the advances of a mewling slave for her gratification. So snivelling and pathetic! I’m not some…some thing that only thinks about sex!”

“Sweetie Belle made a mistake,” replied Sweetie Belle quickly. She then turned around so that her back was facing the angry dragon. “Sweetie Belle is a wicked and bad slave for failing to understand what Sweetie Belle’s Mistress desired. Sweetie Belle offers herself for punishment. Please whip the wickedness out of Sweetie Belle. Punish Sweetie Belle until Sweetie Belle is a good slave again.” With that, Sweetie Belle remained where she was. She did not turn around, move her head, or even her eyes. She just stared at the floor as she await the punishment that a slave like her deserves. After all, wasn’t it only natural that a slave who failed to meet the needs of her owners show that she was willing to pay any price in order to show that she had learned. For wasn’t it far worse to be abandoned into the streets, away from anypony who would be her master?

A tear fell from her eye as Sweetie Belle fought back a shiver. Life without a master was no life worth having for a slave such as herself. She existed solely to please her masters. That was her past, present, and future. If Sweetie Belle could not do that then what was the point of living? It would be far kinder for her master to order her to kill herself rather than to be set free on the street! So she would take any punishment that her Mistress granted her. Perhaps her Mistress would use that tail of her on her back in place of a whip. Yes, that would be far better than throwing her away. So much better.

Sweetie Belle could hear the sound of clawed feet moving behind her. The slave mare braced herself for the pain to come only to realize a moment later that her Mistress was moving in front of her. Sweetie Belle blinked at this in confusion only to realize in utter horror the mistake she had made. She had dared to presume to tell her Mistress where she could punish this wicked slave! Such a thing was not her place. Her trainers/former master had taught her that if a master or a mistress was displeased with her they could do whatever they wanted to her. For wasn’t it true that she was nothing more than a mere object? Something to be bought and used as her owners saw fit? She simply had no say in the matter. If they desired to whip her breasts or clit they were in there right. Should they desire to see her tied up before allowing a dog to mount her then so be it. Any torture, any punishment was theirs to give and for her to take. That was the life of a sex slave which was all Sweetie Belle ever was and ever would be.

“Bloodstone,” cursed her Mistress causing Sweetie to flinch. Sweetie Belle waited for a moment, holding her breath to find out what her punishment would be. “And here I gave Spike a hard time this morning. Look at me.” Slowly, Sweetie Belle raised her head to look at the dragoness. While her fists were at her side now, Mistress Ember’s eyes had softened. “I’m not going to punish you.”

Sweetie Belle tilted her head dumbly. “But Sweetie Belle made a mistake. Sweetie Belle needs to be punished.” Her words caused the Mistress to slap her own face so loudly that Sweetie Belle couldn’t help but wince. As Mistress Ember’s hand slowly slid down her face, she gave another annoyed look at the poor pitiful slave on the floor.

“They…really did a number on you,” she sighed before scratching the back of her head and looking away. “I don’t really do, ah, ‘feelings’ or other silly pony things really good. So please just…stop doing that. Besides you were half right. I am feeling a little pent up right now.”

Sweetie Belle fully raised her head, her eyes sparkling as she did so. “Really?” she cried in delight. “Then Sweetie Belle will take care of you Mistress. Sweetie Belle will-”

“Not that kind of pent up!” snapped Mistress Ember causing the slave pony to wince. Once more the dragoness sighed before turning around and plopping onto a nearby chair. “It has nothing to do with sex, alright. I’m just not used to being cooped up like this. Being told to sit tight. Real dragons don’t do that! We go where we want and take what we want when we want to! I should be out there busting heads and ripping the guts out of those bastards who tried to make me into, well, you! That or going home and getting ready for the Gauntlet of Fire. But I fucking can’t do either without my armor.”

“The Gauntlet of Fire?” echoed Sweetie Belle as she tilted her head again. “Mistress Ember, what is that? Some sort of orgy?”

Ember clenched her jaw, a low growl escaping her throat as she did so. As for Sweetie, her ears flattened against her skull and closed in eyes in preparation for a blow that did not come. She only opened her eyes when she heard Ember rising to her feet and walking towards the window. There her mistress stood, staring out the window while placing a hand on the glass. The blue dragoness’ wings slumped downwards as she looked into the distance.

“It’s…how we dragons choose our next leader,” explained Ember, swallowing hard as she did. “It might be happening right now and I’m missing it.”

“Sweetie Belle does not understand,” admitted Sweetie as she looked at her Mistress. “But Sweetie Belle can see that Mistress Ember is upset. Sweetie Belle wishes to help Mistress Ember however Sweetie Belle can. Would Mistress Ember like Sweetie Belle to help?”

Ember just turned to look at Sweetie Belle, raising an eyebrow as she did.

Spike returned to his apartment later that with a duffel bag held in one hand. The dragon’s head was held low, wings along dropping on his back from such a long and grueling day. Not that it had been hard or anything, in fact it had been the opposite. He had been sent to patrol the quietest section of the city, the place with the least likely chance of a break in, robbery, or any real crime that could be afforded within the city. Heck, he didn’t even see a single speeding wagon or carriage all day! How often did that happen? Never as far as he knew. And while it gave his partner for the day time to relax and shoot the shit, Spike had other things on his mind.

One of those things was the two women in his apartment, hoping that they would remain safe. As much as he liked to believe they would be safe within his apartment within Dragon Town, Spike knew that there was no guarantee that nothing would happen to them. Not when the ponies who had already shown a willingness to abduct Sweetie Belle, the sister of one of the nation’s heroines, were still out there. Yes, it was a big city and nopony or dragon knew exactly where they were. But Spike didn’t know who they were either. They could have walked past his apartment, pretending to be tourists or something, when all they would have to do would be to look up at just the right moment to see one of them by the window. While it was a long shot, perhaps one in a million or more, he knew that if it did happen then they would not waste a moment to recollect the two of them. Then Sweetie would be sold off to whoever while Ember would be sent to somewhere to be broken, both of them going far beyond his reach to help. That or simply get rid of them before trying to do the same to Spike, doing whatever it took to destroy all evidence of their crimes.

Then there was Detective Books. The elder stallion, as it turned out, had more than a full plate. The chief had been more than a little reluctant in deciding whether or not to give Book the case on top of everything else the stallion was working on it. Or at least that was how By-The-Books had explained it to him over lunch.

“He admitted that it looked suspicious,” Books had said during their shared lunch, eating a small salad as he explained it to Spike who nibbled on a ruby bar. “But no hard evidence to back up any theory we might have makes it harder to justify opening up a real case on this. Also felt like mentioning that my own case load is mighty heavy. Guess that’s a good reason as any to say no or to just give it to some rookie.”

Spike gave a short nod as he bit into his bar. “So, I guess you’re not on the case?”

Books shook his head before taking a bite out of his own meal. “A good guess, but you should really wait till you hear all the facts before coming to a conclusion Spike. See, there’s a bit of politics in this. The mayor got wind of this and, well, is hoping to get the dragon vote for the next election coming up. Don’t know if you know this, but ever since you joined the force her poll numbers on the dragon community have been looking up. Almost as much as when she got herself a dragon advisor, but you get a lot more attention in the papers. Got a few complainers about having a dragon on the force, but your good work has mostly silenced them. Now she feels that if there is a even a whiff of something fishy going on in Dragon Town and nopony does anything then this could turn into a PR nightmare.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, think about it lad,” Books had said while setting down his fork. “We get wind that something might have happened in Dragon Town and ignore it completely. Now if it is nothing, no harm done. But if it is something then the reporters will be all on this. They’ll want to know why we ignored it or if the decision was based on the fact that it was Dragon Town. Dragons will grumble about not getting the same amount of treatment and protection as ponies do. And you can bet that the mayor’s political opponents will be spinning their own yarn. That you are nothing more than a token dragon on the force, yadda, yadda, yadda, and crap. Those ponies would have a field day I tell you. But if the force did send somepony to look into it, say a seasoned detective on the force who has served for many years, well then that paints a very different narrative. If I look into this and find nothing, well we wasted a couple of days at most. Find something and stop it before whatever it is makes it to the presses, then I’m a ‘hero’. Makes it the presses before any headway is made then it all falls on me for not doing my job.”

“Hold on!” Spike had yelled while standing up, dropping his ruby bar in the process. “That’s all they care about?! Who gets the blame if things don’t work out? What if somepony or dragon is getting hurt? Shouldn’t that matter more than some bad PR?”

“Once upon a time it did,” Books had said, his tone surprising Spike so much that he had backed up. The older stallion suddenly looked far older than normal, the lines on his face becoming more noticeable. His tired eyes looked up to Spike looking like they were trying to apologize for something that Spike couldn’t understand. “Perhaps in certain circles of the government, there are still ponies who believe doing the right things matters most and damn the consequences. But in this town, most tend to believe that appearance and public opinion means more. The tale that is spun means so much more since that’s what helps them get elected; keeps them in a position of power. So that’s why we need to work harder.” Slowly, Books stood up before giving Spike the faintest of smiles. “I’m not so naïve to believe that everypony on the force is doing this for the right reasons. There are those who see this job as a simple power trip, the most power they’ll ever get in their miserable lives; they’ll be gone soon enough, but the damage they’ll do first will linger on, because when they do that, it reflects on us all. It just takes a few bad cops and a few incidents each to repeat the riots of thirty years ago. This department still has sins in the eyes of the public. F ar too many people think of them when they think of cops. But for those like you and me, Spike, it’s to serve and protect. To do what is right because its right. It’ll hurt if they throw me under the carriage, but it’ll hurt a lot less if I know I took down scum in the process. Even less when I know that I have somedragon I can rely on to finish the job I started.”

After that, Spike went on with the rest of his slow day with newfound guilt until he reached his apartment. But that guilt was also met with additional resolution to help By-The-Books in any way he could. To find whatever clues he could uncover and solve this case quickly. Perhaps that way he could make everypony and dragon happy.

After locking the door and stepping into his apartment, Spike found himself surprised by what he saw. Ember was on the ground, lying on her stomach with the shirt he had given her pulled all the way up to her neck. On top of her was Sweetie Belle looking like she had been through a marathon as sweat matted her fur while droplets fell from her chin, nose, ears, and nipple rings. Yet despite how tired her state looked, Sweetie Belle’s hands continued to move across Ember’s back side to apply pressure in various points causing the blue dragoness to let out throaty moans. The young mare just kept going as she put all her effort into this one task.

“Ah, I’m home,” said the surprised dragon, blinking slightly as he moved closer. As he did, he noticed that Ember’s tail was wagging from side to side. There were also the deep grooves in the floor caused by her back feet that had not been there when he left. Similar shallow marks could also be seen within her arm’s reach.

At the sound of his words Sweetie Belle looked up, her face showing muted excitement. “Master Spike!” Sweetie gasped as she stumbled to get off of Ember. As the blue dragoness let out a noise of protest at this interruption, Sweetie quickly got onto her back, spreading her legs as she did and pushing apart her nether lips for him to see. She was panting, tongue hanging out as she did this making her look more like some sort of domesticated animal. “Sweetie Belle is glad Master Spike had a safe trip home. Would Master Spike wish to use his Sweetie Belle?” At that, she slowly raised her hips which began to tremble from the effort before slightly swinging them back and forth. “Sweetie Belle would like the chance to show Master Spike her stamina. Please use your naughty Sweetie Belle, Master!”

“…Ah, no,” muttered Spike as Sweetie’s face sank a bit. “I’m not feeling, er, up to that right now. I would like it if you got some rest. Ok?”

“Yes, Master,” replied Sweetie right before her body collapsed into a heap on the floor.

“What happened?” asked Spike as he turned to look at Ember, setting the duffel bag on the floor as he did so. It was then that he noticed that Ember was up, shirt tucked back down and stretching. Several small pops were heard as she twisted her body, her face relaxing in pleasure with each series of noises.

“What did it look like?” asked Ember as she placed her claws on her hips before leaning back using her tail as support. There was a brief, blissful smile on her face as a loud ‘crack’ echoed in the room followed by her sighing. “She was giving me a massage.”

“I could see that. But why-”

“I didn’t have a lot of choices, alright!” snapped Ember, cutting Spike off as she straightened herself up and pointing a claw in Spike’s direction. Spike noticed Ember’s cheeks beginning to darken slightly as she took a step towards him. “I was feeling a little cooped up and she thought I wanted something else! So I yelled at her then I felt not so good about it and then she offered to give me a massage! Said her trainers told her that sometimes it helps the master relax more than sex and it would make me feel good! And it did once she applied enough pressure!” Ember then spared a glance at Sweetie, her clawed hand lowering a bit while her wings extended for a brief moment. The dragoness’ shoulders slowly slumped before she turned around so that she was no longer facing the mare on the floor and crossed her arms. “It’s not my fault she had to work so hard work so hard just so I would feel it. And if she was getting tired she should have said something. I would have let her stop to catch her breath.”

“Right,” said Spike as he saw through Ember’s posture as well as the attempts at backwards glances she was making to look at Sweetie. He also noted that she was biting her lower lip slightly but chose not to comment on it or make a big deal. Instead he reached down and unzipped the duffel bag. Inside was nothing major, only his old sweatpants from when he was in training. The pair he kept in his locker at the station in case he felt like taking a jog or something downtown. Calmly he picked it up before tossing it over at Ember.

“What the-” shouted Ember as she turned around just in time to see the cotton pants flying towards her. Spike watched as her eyes narrowed, her tail whizzing through the air to swat the sweatpants onto the ground. “What the heck are these?”

“Something to wear so we can go out,” said Spike as he eyed his sweatpants. “Then we can get you something else to wear other than my old clothing.”

Ember paused for a moment, looking at the sweatpants she had just swatted before finally shrugging. “Alright then,” she replied, her tailed moving to scoop up the pants before handing them to herself. “It would be nice to wear some real clothing again.”

“I thought you said we were going to get me real clothing!” raged Ember. Spike held back a sigh, his eyes deadpanned as he glanced around the store. It was a place called The Fashion Horde, one of the more popular places in Dragon Town to purchase good clothing at decent prices. Like all buildings in Dragon Town, the store looked like it had been carved out of a single block of brown stone including the racks, poles, and even the store counter where two dragons stood waiting. The only things that were not made of stone were the mannequins which had been made to look like dragons showing off the latest fashions. Moving up and down the aisles were several dragons of various ages. He could see a slightly overweight mother herding her hatchlings who clearly wished to be doing anything else. A couple of teenage dragonesses were off to one side pressed outfits next to their frames and asking how they looked.

“Ember,” whispered Spike, fighting hard not to face palm at that moment. “We are getting you some real clothing. That’s why we’re here.”

“No,” stated Ember as she gestured to one of the mannequins nearby which had white khaki pants and a red top. The top had a V-shaped cut along the neck line that almost went well past the bust of the display wearing it. Not something Spike would consider functional or anything, but he guessed it was in fashion right now. “This crap is all pony clothing, not something a dragon with even an ounce of pride would ever consider wearing! I mean, look at it! No armor plating to speak of. One blow to this flimsy pony fabric by a mace or sword and shattering your scales in the process! Or one blast of fire will leave you in the nude! How could anydragon believe that wearing this stuff is a good idea?”

Spike didn’t say anything at first, instead looking around as he felt the mood in the room shift. He could see the dragoness mother looking over the racks in their direction, a disapproving glare on her face. The teenage dragonesses rolled their eyes before whispering something to each other that was quickly followed by laughter. Spike was glad neither he nor Ember heard anything that was said for he had a feeling she might jump on them. As for the two behind the counter, while their faces didn’t change he could see one of them gripping the counter tightly while the other looking like he had been personally insulted.

“Ember,” Spike said quietly while gesturing Ember to do the same. “Everydragon around here wears this. Even I wear similar stuff when I’m at work.”

Ember pulled back her head in surprise before it tilted to the side slightly. “Really? They expect you to stand up to others without even basic protection? At least tell me they give you a shield, sword, or even a freaking spear?!”

“Well there are riot shields in the precinct armory,” admitted Spike. “I get a baton, but that’s all the wepondry we really get. Not like I really need it.” As Ember placed her claws on her hips while also giving him a disapproving look, Spike began to recall the stories of the Dragon Lands he had heard here in Dragon Town. About a desolate place where might was the key to survival and those who were seen as weak were preyed upon by other dragons. That was the reason so many had left that land behind, coming to Equestria where they could be safe and live easier lives. It would make sense that a dragon like Ember who had been raised there would prioritize functionality over fashion, much like a certain farming family he knew so very well. However, the sort of function that armor provided wasn’t need on the streets here. So maybe…

“Just think of it this way,” Spike said quickly as he gestured to a random outfit, “this stuff won’t slow you down.”

Ember scowled at that. “Are you suggesting that I’m slow or something?”

“No, no,” replied Spike quickly. “What I’m trying to say is that heavy armor can wear a dragon down. Wearing something like this here won’t do that, letting you fly faster longer. Plus it won’t hamper your flexibility.” As Spike said this, Ember brought a claw to her chin to scratch it for a moment before turning to look at the clothing. It was clear that she was considering his words while her eyes scanned the stuff on the racks. So, Spike continued. “You could just try it out for a little while. See if you like it while we search for your armor. If you don’t like it then you’ll only have to put up with it until we find your armor.”

“I don’t know,” Ember said slowly in an apprehensive voice while eyeing a pink outfit with a smiling cat face on it. Yeah, Spike couldn’t understand why anypony or dragon would wear something like that but really who was he to judge?

“It’s that or staying cooped up in the apartment till I find your armor,” Spike muttered, just loud enough for Ember to hear it and sink a little. “It would also go a lot faster if you could be there to look at any armor I found to confirm its yours. But I’ll understand if you want to stay home all day and night, doing nothing but pacing back and forth and-”

“OK!” yelled Ember as she started in on the nearest rack looking for something to wear. “I get it geez. I don’t have to like it, just put up with it until I get something real to wear. But you would think that dragons around here would invest in non-flammable material for more than five seconds.” As she spoke, Ember’s claws began to violently search through the various attire before her. Her eyes scanned everything she could see, pausing only to rub the material between her fingers.

After what seemed like forever with Ember searching through more than half the store, even going through the men’s section, Ember had found something she believed would be tolerable. She had decided to go with jeans, forgoing skirts of any kind declaring that they provided the most flimsy of protection. As for her top, she had grabbed anything that she believed would fit her and didn’t look too ‘ponyish’ or ‘lame’. So when she had everything she could carry, the dragoness was pointed in the direction of the changing room where she stormed off to. As for Spike, he waited by the side of said room with him being separated from Ember only by a cloth curtain. Something which Ember once again chided on as being stupid.

“One sneeze and it all goes up in flames,” she growled from the other side. “Bloodstone, does anydragon here in Equestria think?” Spike said nothing, simply letting Ember since he did agree with the dragoness. He had heard that the reason was singly that it was cheaper. That if there was say a wooden door, an adult dragon sneezing would either burn it down as well or just put a hole through it. Also, when a dragon trips into a wooden door it breaks versus a cloth curtain that just falls down. Spike understood all of this, but there had to be a way. Like maybe a door made of rock or something. Or would that just send the flames back into the room to incinerate all the clothing?

Just as he was about to bring this point up with Ember, he spotted a dragoness walk through the door. Widening his eyes in surprise, Spike saw that it was the dragoness Mina dressed in a grey business suit. In the past, she had stood a good foot and a half taller than him. But that was when he was a baby dragon. Now, even though he was taller, it wasn’t by much. Perhaps a few inches. Mina had that perfect hourglass figure, with large DD breasts and a rounded ass. Her ruby colored scales shined brightly and she had horns that looked more like a bulls than anything else. Most ponies believed she had a mane, looking like a Mohawk that rose a bit before falling onto the left side of her head. In reality that was a series of fin scales, thousands of them clustered in a single line that only looked like a mane or any type of hair.

As the ruby dragoness walked in, she looked around for a moment before spotting Spike. In that moment her own eyes widened and Spike noted that her eyes darted towards the curtain he was standing next to. If this fazed her at all Spike could not tell for she walked towards him calmly

“Spike, it’s been awhile,” she said with a smile. “The last time I saw you was at that award ceremony with the mayor.”

“Right,” said Spike as he smiled back. “Could have gone without the fan-fair and all that. I mean, I was just doing my job. Don’t think I should get an award for that.”

“You really shouldn’t sell yourself short,” replied Mina as she playfully elbowed Spike. “I was there with the mayor when we heard about the bank robbery, so I know it was more than just doing your job. You really put yourself out there going in alone like that. If only the bank didn’t have those anti-teleportation runes then the police could have sent in a larger group to back you up.”

Spike shrugged at that, briefly remembering the randomly fired beams of magic coming out of the bank’s busted door. “Honestly I barely felt any of those blasts. Besides, the Princess’ were the ones who insisted on putting those runes in every bank to keep ponies from teleporting into the vault. Remember what happened in Manehatten a few years ago?”

“Right,” chuckled Mina. “That was a PR nightmare for them when a group of teenagers robbed half the banks there. Can you believe they tried to use the ‘I did it because I lost a friend’ excuse to get out of trouble?” The dragoness then briefly glanced over to the curtain again. “So, what’s going on here? Out on a date or something?”

“Something,” said Spike casually as his claws went into his pockets. “Just helping a new friend out who just arrived in Dragon Town. Still getting used to the place.”

Mina nodded. “Well then, I’ll leave you to it.” Mina turned and began to walk back towards the door. However, when she reached it, she turned around to look again at Spike before calling out. “Remember, if either of you need any help my office is always open.” And like that she had left without buying anything.

“So,” said a voice from above startling Spike before he could even collect his thoughts. He looked up and saw Ember’s head poking from above the curtains. “I guess there’s a history between you two?”

Author's Note

This one was difficult to write. I actually rewrote entire section multiple times before I was ready to have it looked over and edited. Hopefully you will all enjoy it