A Pie by any Other Name

Doing one's best. Initial success and the caution to be applied upon contact with such. A horrified realization. Backsliding and backsides. Trouble with trembles. A less horrified realization. The necessity of perspective.

It had been a rough couple of days, not that Twilight had been keeping track. Her attention had been fully dedicated towards making sure she had a counter prepared for the spell by the time she had to return to Canterlot. True, she might be able to finagle time while attending the business of royalty to allow for research into the topic, but she'd feel much better having it done by the time she had to leave.

Why leave for tomorrow what could be done today?

There was a multiplicity of reasons as to why she ought to do just that. One was that Canterlot had, despite Twilight's best efforts, better source materials to work from. There were not only more books on spellcraft, but older ones counterbalanced with newer volumes of more recent revised research. A menagerie of knowledge from sources contemporary to ancient beyond reckoning. There also was an entire college, not to mention lower schools, of magic located in the city which would be more than willing to accept Twilight's problem not as the ruler trying to fix her error but as a spontaneous test of their skills.

Celestia had intentionally cultivated that atmosphere during her tenure as not only ruler of Equestria but administrator of the various schools of magic* she had set up during her reign. It had saved her skin from a variety of stupidly complicated situations and inconvenient questions. It was so regular an occurrence that a few of the schools almost set up an annual event in anticipation of these wonderful problems that Celestia would posset to their school bodies.
*Despite the verbiage used, it is to be noted that in opposition to what many might tell you, Celestia actually did retain the post of administrator of all her schools of magic. Many thought that she had passed those positions to Twilight along with the crown, but in reality - whether through a measure of foresight irregular for the solar diarch or simply because it slipped her mind - she had kept those titles away from Twilight when passing the rulership of Equestria to her former pupil. Sure, Twilight had authority over the schools, but it was in name only and legally Celestia had authority greater than even Twilight herself in this matter.

Another reason one might give for delay would be that it would clear her mind to sleep on it. Working on such a distressing issue can cause mistakes, and many times one can detach themselves from the distress of said situations by stepping back and taking a nap. Naps are, beyond a doubt, very good.

Twilight, however, had cultivated a sense of duty so unshakeable in herself that she could not be dissuaded from pressing herself as hard as she could to the problem before her until either the problem yielded or she had to revisit a friendship lesson.

She had almost fished out the friendship journal when she had a breakthrough. There, in the subtle arcs and curves of the coincidental spell, was an image very much similar to the spell that lay on the pages before her. Sure, the spell she was looking at was a bone structure modification spell, but that would account for the other day's scan!

With a barely help cry of excitement, Twilight found that the author followed standard procedure and had included the counter measure to the spell. It was all turning up roses it seemed now!

Looking over the spell structure, she committed it to memory - much as any spell - and began the testing phase. Usually a good test consisted of casting the test spell on a living creature and then casting the counter spell to see if it worked, but Twilight was in a rush.

With a breath in and out, Twilight set up a construct and then cast the accidental spell on it, watching as it wove itself around the magical mannequin. With a nod of satisfaction, Twilight then summoned up the prospective counter spell. With a quick prayer, she shot her hope into the construct and watched.

In a brilliant display of magic, the counter spell latched onto the existing magic and plucked it apart with fine tuned precision. It was amazing to watch, and better yet, was functional! Twilight could barely hold herself together for the glee she felt, watching as the counter spell tore away the last bit of the spell, releasing the construct from its hold.

With a squeak of happiness, Twilight noted down the spell and rushed out of her castle in her frazzled state.

It is at this point that another tragedy of this tale occurs, for mere moments after turning tail and charging to find Pinkie, the construct Twilight had set up flickered gently in a way that would be considered by Twilight as 'disconcerting' had she actually seen it. This brief flicker was followed by a nearly imperceptible magical tinkling - the type that you only got from really good magic - before it burst into a shower of less impressive sparks.

Rushing out into the streets of Ponyville, Twilight quickly found Pinkie. She also was quickly given the opportunity to quickly apologize to the mare while helping the energetic mare back to her hooves after having smashed her across the face with the front door of the castle.

"I'm so sorry!" She blathered, dusting Pinkie off while looking over the mare for any signs of permanent harm. "I was in such a hurry and I... oh, Pinkie! Yes! Good! I was looking for you!" Pinkie rubbed her nose with a hoof.

"Gee, Twilight, you're sounding like me!" Pinkie chuckled, nursing the booboo on her schnozz. "Whatdidyaneed?" Pinkie said with a bounce, forgetting her pain for the moment. Twilight blinked, translating the smooshed phrase into plain speech. Pinkie had a way with words, it was just unfortunate that most ponies needed directions to follow along with the vague generalities of that way.

"I... ah... come on in!" Twilight stumbled before literally stumbling into her castle. Pinkie, never one to say no to an invitation, happily bounced inside. Once inside, Twilight didn't even go through the motions of leading Pinkie upstairs, instead closing the door and flipping one of the metaphorical levers in Pinkie's brain.

Pinkie stopped on a dime, lurching forward slightly with her momentum before springing back into a stoic attention pose. Twilight nodded, thoroughly impressed by the mare's muscle control. Pinkie didn't look it, but she was a well muscled mare under that layer of... adipose tissue that gave her that soft, curvaceous form of hers.

Twilight shook her head, refocusing her mind on the task at hoof as opposed to the pony at hoof. She had to separate the idea of Pinkie from the problem Pinkie had as a result of Twilight's own actions. She couldn't ogle a friend in need; she needed to help her!

Taking a steadying breath, Twilight focused and spun the spell she needed. It came as naturally as any other spell that was lodged in her memory - which landed it somewhere between calculus and breathing. Releasing it into Pinkie, Twilight held her breath as she waited for it to take effect. She watched as a faint glow rippled across Pinkie, which looked fairly promising all things considered.

Activating an arcane scanning spell, Twilight watched as Pinkie had the spell removed from her magical signature. It did Twilight a great deal of good to watch it go, the weight of the last several days finally lifting as she watched Pinkie regaining her freedom. Better yet, Twilight had done it without any help or even telling anypony else about it! Now that was a win!

Just as she was about to dismiss her scanning spell and start to cast the counter spell to the arcane box of levers and buttons in Pinkie's brain, Twilight froze in horror. Before her eyes, she watched as the spell she hadn't intended to cast regained its strength and wrapped its cold coils around Pinkie once more.

Twilight stammered in absolute shock, turning about to charge up the stairs. Stopping at the first step further into her castle, she cast her eyes back to Pinkie who stood unnaturally still just a few steps from the front door. Pressing her lips into a fine line of cogitation, Twilight huffed to herself as the implications of somepony finding her like that came home to roost.

With a wave of magic, she wound up the spring and set Pinkie bouncing along, moving with the simple imperative to follow along with Twilight at her own pace. Nodding to herself, Twilight turned and galloped up the stairs. Ducking and weaving through the corridors, she entered the main hall once more and immediately brought out all the chalkboards, reviewing everything she knew.

Scanning over the sum total of the spell with a quick eye, Twilight came up empty hooved. With another huff, she went line by line down the spell. She checked each clause and phrase in the spell, searching for anything that might help her, when she saw it.

She slapped her face with a hoof in disgust at her own ineptitude. There it was, plain as day, and she had missed it!

There, in a corner of the spell that was cluttered by a great deal of simple terms that most every spell had to lay out, was a Perpetuating Clause - a nasty little bugger of a spell component that would, without fail, reconstruct the rest of the spell even if it was the last tiny bit of said spell to exist.

Great, just great!

And of course she wouldn't have looked over there for it! It was all the way in the back of the row along with lines of runes that directed how the magic should flow through the circle and what color of sparks should be produced upon completion! There were increasingly more times of late that Twilight just wanted to bash some sense into the overflowing heads of those ancient mages.

Of all the flimflam that recent magic had contrived for any number of reasons, R.O.C.* was not one of them that Twilight disregarded or found overly cumbersome. For shame that those ancient wizards - Star Swirl included - thought that throwing magical code throughout a circle willy-nilly with no cares for understanding it later was a good idea at any point of time! It just made Twilight sick!
*R.O.C., or Rational Order of Components, is a fairly recent concept in magic, being a system by which all new spells will order their components by certain categories around the prime axis of the spell. A very useful piece of standardization that all but the most free-spirited of mages agreed was a good idea. Ancient mages, however, would've laughed at it while sitting a common phrase of magic right next to a primary component of the spell with the most malicious form of glee. Mages: truly a terrifying bunch of creatures.

Twilight would not only have to use the counter spell which she had discovered, but would have to - with precision and attention to detail far greater than a... very precise and attentive pony - watch for where the Perpetuating Clause would flare up, and then cast a counter charm on that specific clause.

True enough, for a mage of Twilight's caliber it wouldn't be so tough. She could probably manage it after a good night's rest and a few gallons of chamomile tea. Most certainly.

Third try for sure.

It was at this point that Twilight was rudely interrupted as as an unstoppable force plowed into her backside and pushed her with an unexpected amount of insistence. Twilight tried to scramble back up to her hooves, but found herself only being pushed farther and farther along.

About the time she was halfway across the floor, a though struck her with the same force as the persistent pusher. The rhythm of the pushing, the sounds she could make out over the rattling of her own skull, and the past several minutes all taken in consideration, there was a singular answer to her quandaries that satisfied all the evidence.

A wave of magic later, and Pinkie stopped moving. Twilight sighed in relief as the progress across the floor ended, leaving her time to finally think. Twilight wasn't sure how 'follow me' had translated to 'push me bodily across the floor' but it likely had to do with what point Pinkie was trying to follow. It might've also just been a matter of a simple spell not accounting for the complexities of language.

When in doubt, blame language.

Standing up, Twilight dusted herself off before something struck her. It hadn't been on her mind as she had been pushed - the number of things that had been having been a small number consisting of an elite few thoughts - but hindsight allowed for many new and intriguing thoughts to come to the fore, such as the manner in which she had been pushed.

Namely: how Pinkie had pushed her by the rear using her head - though the chest also came into play occasionally. What's more, Twilight came to a secondary realization that made her flush slightly and caused another acceleration of heart rate.

She hadn't disliked it.

It was odd for the mare whose entire existence had been characterized by a complete lack of experimentation on the sexual front to discover something that - though it had likely happened hundreds, if not thousands, of times before - suddenly struck her not only as not bad but pleasant. The territory on which she now trod was more than a little uncharted for her. What pitfalls and soaring mountains lay ahead was a mystery to her - and for once she wasn't entirely sure she actually wanted to discover it all.

That, of course, wasn't entirely true. She really did want to find it all out.

She turned back to look at Pinkie, her mind a storm of possibilities. True, she did want Pinkie free of this spell that Twilight had accidentally cast on her, but... but a part of her wanted something different. Something new in the alicorn's experience.

She almost tried to frame a verbal order, but stopped herself when she realized that there was no use in it. She honestly should fix that, but that moment was filled with other thoughts. Other desires. It might've scared Twilight how foreign the thoughts were, but she was far too engrossed in them to particularly care.

Her heart hammered, and she felt her mouth grow dry. She wanted and needed, but her mind wasn't being particularly helpful in telling her what she needed and desired so fervently. She knew there was a need, but even as she drew closer to the realization it flittered away with a coquettish grin.

Swallowing, she turned the knobs and pressed the buttons in Pinkie's brain with ease. She then turned around, trembling immensely as she awaited whatever was to come. Not to say she didn't already know, but her mind had already sequestered that information so that the rest of the brain could enjoy the unexpectedness of the events that were about to unfold.

With a clipped yelp, she felt Pinkie push into her rear end. On reflex, she pushed back - and then found herself playing into some plan she hadn't realized she had set up for herself - and nearly jumped up when she realized that... oh my. She... she found herself sitting on... on Pinkie's face.

She shivered and trembled all at once at the scandalous and pleasurable nature of what she was doing - and Pinkie wasn't even doing anything yet! She felt such a pleasure in the simple act of sitting on her friend's face that it hardly could be believed. It felt... natural. It felt good.

Her heart hammered as she just sat there on top of Pinkie - the other mare not responding in any way. Twilight quaked, part of her wanting to giggle giddily while the other part wanted to scream - whether in agreement or horror wasn't entirely true. In short, Twilight's brain had shorted.

For all the time she had lived and experienced the world and its many pleasures, Twilight found herself at a loss to describe or to understand what she was experiencing. Her heart roared in her ears and made her cheeks feel hot as she continued to just sit and stare past the far wall as her mind shutdown for maintenance.

Suddenly, the world snapped back into clarity and Twilight launched herself off of Pinkie, whirling about to apologize, only to see Pinkie still laying there. She trembled at the sight, falling to her haunches as her mind put up the 'closed for maintenance' sign for the second time that day.

There Pinkie was, simply laying on the ground where her face would be sat on without a complaint, and it did something to Twilight's insides - and, to an extent, her outsides. She both wanted to and desperately did not want to understand it all. She wanted to leap on Pinkie and study every facet of the new range of experiences now open to her. It felt... she felt...

The brain sighed dramatically, skillfully adding the word 'indefinitely' to the sign.

Twilight shook herself back together, her heart still threatening to explode in her chest as she looked on Pinkie's prostrate form. It had felt so good but she couldn't exactly indulge in the pleasure all the time - which might actually make it all the more pleasurable in the long run. Beyond that, she also couldn't just... well, she couldn't just sit on Pinkie - it wasn't fair.

Gingerly, Twilight let herself rest on her side, using her magic to bring Pinkie back to animated life with a simple directive. Twilight calmed herself while watching the pink pony approach her and turn around to present that big ol' pink butt.

A moment later Twilight was frantically ordering Pinkie to stop. Taking heaving breaths, Twilight scrabbled to her hooves to get her head from sitting level.

"Mental note," Twilight said between breaths, "Sitting, good. Being sat on, terrifying!" She shook herself. She didn't know why she had thought being sat on by Pinkie would be a good idea on reflection. She had known that Pinkie wasn't lithe nor just a bundle of soft flesh.

She shuddered at the thought of the pressure that came crashing down on her.

Never again!

Shaking herself from head to tail, she finished calming herself down. It wasn't that it had been horrible, she might even grow to appreciate it as she had grown so quickly to appreciate being the sitter - that was if she used a pillow instead of the hard floor.

That and had a snorkel.

It was then that, with another moment of sluggish thought that was desperately waving at her through the throng of red-faced nonthoughts, that Twilight came to the startling revelation that had been attempting to make itself known since Pinkie had had her face sat on.

Twilight wanted to say that she was horrified by the realization. She wanted to say that she felt ashamed and that a mend in her ways was in the works. She wanted to assure herself that it was all just a gigantic misunderstanding and her own insatiable curiosity that would shortly be sated - heralding the return to normality as she had known it before.

She wanted to say that, or even think it, but Twilight had never made it a frequent activity to lie - to herself least of all.

With so little horror that it almost horrified her how unhorrified she was, Twilight realized that she was enjoying this. Not just the face sitting, that much had been established and was surreptitiously being filed under 'for future use' with a few other observations. No, she came to the realization that controlling Pinkie in this way - holding the other pony in her hooves and being able to shape the mare as she wished was... well, simply put, exhilarating.

She wanted to imagine that her heart would suddenly beat far faster than it had any right to and that she'd break out in a cold sweat at such a thought - but no such luck. In fact, the only thought she actually had at that moment was if she ought consider implimenting a permeant alteration to Pinkie that opened the mare to having her face sat on while she was awake and out of trance.

With great mental effort, Twilight brought herself to manually induced panic and quickly set Pinkie free of her control before rushing out the castle without another word.

What she needed, Twilight realized, was a few new eyes on the situation. That'd do it! She needed a good sit down and conversation with somepony who wasn't herself who could gently provide advice that would - despite not being given the specifics of the situation - deliver such startlingly accurate advise that Twilight would known what she ought to do.

Then again, she already knew what she ought to do, Twilight just hoped the vague advise would tend towards the shades of what she wanted to do. Sometimes when we ask for good advise from others, we aren't actually looking for that advise, rather we are looking for circuitous confirmation of what we wanted to hear - even if words had to be mangled and twisted beyond all comprehension.

That was what Twilight now found herself in need of.