Harmony University: Riding the Storm

Bluefeather leant back and she ran her hands down Cyclone's sides, not tickling, but roaming free to feel up her athletic body. Cyclone moaned again, and she tentatively bit on the nipple of her Mistress’s left breast in her mouth. “Unlock the chair,” she ordered breathlessly, “I'm taking you to the back.”

That allowed Bluefeather to push the wheelchair away from the steering column so she could unbuckle Cyclone and lift her up. Then, she carried her to the back seat where she was able to finish undressing her. “I'm bottom and you can do as you please to make me cum, brat.”

Bluefeather then laid back across the seat and pulled her girlfriend on top of her. “Nice to be the one on top for a change,” smirked Cyclone as she crawled between her Mistress's legs and she stroked her hairless labia with her fingers, at the same time kissing up her inner thighs.

A very contented sigh left Bluefeather’s lips. Her girlfriend might be a brat, but she was a brat who was very skilled with her fingers. “I love all of you as you are right now…”

“I love you too Mistress,” murmured Cyclone as she slowly kissed her way up and over Bluefeather's hard throbbing clitoris and down her other thigh. Only when she was whimpering with her back arched up did she then move back to her pussy, and Cyclone dragged her tongue over her nub.

A very happy Bluefeather was laid back in utter bliss with her cute moans filling the van as Cyclone expertly worked her dripping wet sex. “Heh,” the athlete snickered, “And you said you can't sing...” she then wrapped her lips around her clit and slid two fingers inside her hot wet tunnel.

Naturally, Bluefeather was enjoying herself too much to bother with any kind of response to that. Cyclone, between her trembling legs, in an attempt to get her off, now used three fingers thrusting in and out of her Mistress. At the same time she was plunging knuckle deep, she was sucking and nipping her clit.

Fortunately for Bluefeather, Cyclone knew what she really enjoyed. It was the slow burn that really got her off. It wasn’t her thing, but she nonetheless slowed down her assault and made her climax in ten minutes. For her second climax, Cyclone went even slower. She gradually bought her up to the boil taking well over twenty minutes.

After she had ridden out her second climax, it was an extremely grateful Bluefeather who dragged Cyclone bodily up her until she was able to give her a long and passionate kiss. “MMmmmmm!” was all she could comment to that after having a tongue thrust into her tired mouth.

Now she had her where she wanted her, Bluefeather allowed her hands to roam freely over Cyclone's toned body, but she didn't dip below her waist. The athlete felt the soft delicate hands on her and she moved hers to cup and grope Bluefeather's breasts, her thumbs toying with her nipples. “It must be the altitude that has me in the mood,” she smiled.

“I love you in the mood, Mistress,” replied Cyclone, who was happy to play with those perfectly perky breasts a few moments longer. “Um,” she looked up after a few moments though, “Can you make me cum, please Mistress?”

Letting out a well-practised sigh, Bluefeather rolled her eyes at her needy brat. That said though, she was her brat. “I guess your adequate performance should be rewarded, hmm?”

“Adequ...!” exclaimed Cyclone indignantly, for her tongue skills had been off the charts! Then, she caught herself in mid protest and she shut up, her whole submissive body language showing her blush as she remembered her place. “I mean, thank you, Mistress.”

Bluefeather counted herself a lucky dominant to have such a bratty submissive who was so easy to read, punish and reward. She slid to the edge of the back seat and rolled so that Cyclone was on the bottom. There, she used her legs to make sure her pet's were straight. “Always the brat,” she kissed her, “Never change.”

“I-I w-won't M-Mistessssss!” moaned Cyclone while Bluefeather began a very slow burn attack on her with gentle nibbles to both her ears complete with delicate licks up the lobes and poking of her tongue inside. Cyclone hissed and squirmer her upper body to no avail as her Mistress slowly got her going, and little needy whimpers emerged the more she was teased.

Gradually, with all the speed of a glacier, Bluefeather moved a bit lower along her sub’s neck and jaw line. “C...C'mon Blue...” whined Cyclone, who knew perfectly well she was being demanding and bratty, but she didn’t care. “Make me cum, please?”

Pointedly ignoring her brat, Bluefeather giggled as she moved a bit lower so she could play with Cyclone's flat breasts with her hands and her mouth. “B-Blue pleeeeease!” she begged like the desperate sub she was. While she couldn't feel it, from her own scent she knew she was wet and incredibly aroused.

Keeping a hand on each of her breasts, Bluefeather bought her lips, teeth, and tongue into play as she worked ever downwards heading for the navel. “MMMMmmmm Miiiiistreeesss!” Cyclone groaned, by now leaking so much of her arousal between her legs. She had never been one for foreplay before, but Bluefeather has upped her teasing foreplay game considerably in the past few months and it was really, really getting her off.

That didn’t go unnoticed. “You smell so nice,” Bluefeather commented as she worked her way down Cyclone’s body to the imaginary line where feeling stopped and she danced along that line with her mouth.

“M-Must be a-all t-the teasing, Mistress!” squeaked Cyclone through panting breaths as she felt her Mistress’s hands slide lower down her body, “Damn you're amazing!”

“That I am,” smirked Bluefeather, who wasn’t about to argue. One hand then moved past her mouth to Cyclone's dripping snatch. A moment of sadness did cross her thoughts as she knew that no amount of playing with her clit would gain her anything. Still, she was wet and her fingers easily entered her, looking for that bundle of nerves just inside on the upper wall. She knew it would be dull, but she would feel that.

“Ooooooh Mistress!” Cyclone moaned, as she definitely felt that, the dull building pleasure adding to that which her Mistress had already given her on the way down. The athlete's body soon rewarded Bluefeather with more of her fluids leaked out onto her forearm. Smirking, Bluefeather slowly worked her hand further in, allowing her sub’s natural lubricants gain her deeper entry. A few inches in and Operation Cervix was a go. As her arm entered her, Bluefeather's mouth moved back to the belly button, and the other hand was up on a breast.

“BLUUUUUUE!” Cyclone screamed out loud and squirmed, panting and whimpering under the massive sensory assault that was getting her off. “I-I'm cumming....fuuuuuck I'm gonna cum soon, I swear!”

That was what Bluefeather was waiting to hear. She pinched at a nipple, bit just above Cyclone’s navel and she flicked her fingers hard against her cervix. That was all it took to get Cyclone over her edge. With a loud scream that could be heard outside the van, she gushed her cum all over Bluefeather’s chest like a waterfall.

~ ~ ~

Monday came as ever, following a wonderful weekend where Bluefeather dominated Cyclone all day long. This morning, the dominant teen out of her front door as soon as the minivan pulled up. “Should I call you Jeeves now that you are my valet at my beck and call?” she asked with a sly grin as she got in the passenger seat.

Cyclone, in a poor imitation of Parker, greeted her with a, “Good morning M’lady Mistress,” she snickered and adjusted the sun visor on the windscreen to keep the morning sun out of her eyes, “If you're calling me that, I want a hat.”

“I'm sure I can arrange for that,” Bluefeather sat and smoothed out her dress and appreciated the tee shirt and jean shorts her girlfriend was wearing. “Ready for our first day of the last year?”

“Seniors!” Cyclone’s cheer gave way to a sigh, “I'm ready to have this year behind me. I'm ready to be back to racing. Not so much Cranky's math class...or any of the other classes…”

“Just be careful where you park when you get to school,” warned Bluefeather, “The terror of the faculty lot is now in charge.”

“I remember Dash told me,” commented Cyclone as she slipped the van into gear and pulled out, “When she came over to see us the other week.” She steered around a few cars in her way, “Can you believe Celestia actually went through that portal thing to pony land?”

A roll of her eyes was all Bluefeather could muster to that. Magic was Canterlot High’s worst kept secret, particularly with Rainbow Dash running her mouth. “Rumours are she got married and retired, but after all that has happened, I think I'd believe anything.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. Well,” Cyclone continued, “Wherever she is, good luck to her that's me. After last year with Sunset, the sirens and the Friendship Games, I think she's earned an easy retirement in Pony Land.”

“I for one hope our last year will be ‘weirdness’ free,” declared Bluefeather, “Neither of us need what happened at the mall to happen at school.”

“Blue,” Cyclone spared her girlfriend a wry glance when she stopped at a junction, “You don't have to say 'weirdness'. You can say magic, you know. You won't combust or anything, everyone knows about it.”

Bluefeather couldn’t help but giggle, “What if I say ‘Trixie’ instead? I’m going to miss her crazy shows.”

“Me too.” Cyclone replied with a very deep sigh. A short time later, she pulled into the Canterlot High student parking lot and took advantage of the handicapped zones close to the school. “Hopefully, with Sunset and those others all gone now, they've took the weird magic stuff with them. Gonna miss Dash. Hope the new captain's not a jerk.”

“A lot of people thought she would be a fifth year high school student. Oh,” Bluefeather gasped in pleasant surprise at their new spot, “I'm going to like this curb to curb service. You get one of the fancy close parking spots.”

“We have arrived, M’lady Mistress,” Cyclone giggled as she killed the engine. “Let me get your door for you.” Bluefeather was good for that, and she nodded approvingly. Cyclone got herself and her bag out, and she wheeled herself around to the passenger side. “Here you are, Mistress, may I take your bag for you?”

“Certainly, Jeeves!” with a giggle, Bluefeather placed her bag on Cyclone’s lap, “Let's see what Harshwhinny has for us for home room, shall we?”

“Shame she couldn't have retired...”

“We don't have any of her classes this year. Just show up, smile, and move on.”

Together, Bluefeather and Cyclone made their way along the halls to their home room, where the ever professional Miss Harshwhinny was waiting for them. She already had a class full; they were the last two. “Ms. Cyclone, you are to report to the Principal's office immediately.”

As one, the whole class started laughing but, turning on the spot, Bluefeather said it for all of them. “Wow Cy, first day and you’re already in trouble!”

“What?” Cyclone was stunned and shocked, indeed it was a good thing she was sat down, “But I haven’t done anything! Um…have I?”

“Bet you parked in the faculty lot!” called out a tall boy who Cyclone vaguely remembered was called Hightower.

“I did not…did I?” asked Cyclone, to gales of laughter from the rest of the class.

“Just be on your way, please, Ms. Cyclone.” Harshwhinny huffed, irritated at the disruption to her class before it had even started. She dearly hoped this wasn’t an indicator for how the rest of the year was going to go.

Bluefeather shook her head no, but she couldn’t speak, she was laughing along with the rest. “Ugh, fine…” Cyclone stuck her tongue out at her Mistress, something she knew she would pay for later, and she wheeled herself out to the empty corridor. When she reached Principal Luna's office, she knocked on the door.

Cyclone was greeted by Crescent Moon, Luna’s secretary, in the outer office. “Good morning, Cyclone. Principal Luna will see you now,” she looked over her half-moon glasses and she motioned to the closed inner door.

“Hey Principal Luna!” Cyclone greeted the tall dark blue skinned woman in her typically cheerful manner in an attempt to disarm her should it be necessary. “Um, I didn't do it, honest, whatever it is.”

Luna, sat imperiously in her chair like it was a throne, spared Cyclone a tiny little smile, “I think we both know it was Juniper Montage that did it, even if the person in the security cameras will never be found. Welcome to the effects of Equestrian magic.” She said and her smile widened, just a little. “As for why you are here, it is just a short tour so you can be indoctrinated in the handicapped facilities in our school.”

Somewhat uncomfortably, Cyclone scratched the back of her head. “Yeah, she did, but you know? I'm not bitter about it. I've had the summer holiday getting that out my system, with Blue's help.” She indicated the light grey collar she was wearing around her neck.

When she saw that, Luna’s smile grew wider and far more genuine, as she was thinking of her beloved Cheerilee's collar, but she said nothing about it. “The elevator is not for student use, but you are an exception. This key card,” she produced a simple plastic card with CHS stamped on it, “Will gain you access to it. I'll show you where it is.”

Walking out of the office, Luna held the door open for Cyclone to pass. “Alright, nice one, Principal,” she moved along at the older woman’s side, easily keeping pace with her, “What's that like, being the one in charge now?”

“A decent pay raise,” commented Luna with a smirk, “But I'll have to see how it goes over the year. I understand you have your own vehicle, with a better parking spot than mine.” She was only a teeny bit peeved at that. “You need to let the front office know if that changes so we can arrange for a correctly equipped bus to pick you up.”

“What can I say? It's the upside of having a mall stand thrown at you,” Cyclone giggled, “And I will, let you know, I mean.”

Luna walked on through a 'Staff Only' marked door and there was an elevator on the other side. “To activate the up down arrows you need to swipe the card over them. The basement has all the sports equipment, which includes your racing chair, where Mr. Will put it. There is roof access also, but I wouldn't bother. That card will not open the exterior door. It will override the system so you can use it when the fire alarm goes off. And for your curiosity, it only works on this elevator. No sneaking in at night.”

“Trust me,” responded Cyclone quickly, “I can think of better places to be at night than here, no offence, ma'am. And don't worry about the roof. I'm not great with heights. I'm more than happy with my wheels on the ground, thanks.”

Approvingly, Luna nodded her head, “The only wheelchair fire exits are the one in back out of the basement, and the front one on the first floor. I'm sure, in an emergency, you'd be willing to let someone carry you down an exterior fire exit, or interior stairwell?”

“You got it, ma'am,” Cyclone agreed very quickly, “One brush with death per lifetime is quite enough for me.”

“Good,” Luna could tell the teenager was being sincere, “You may have seen the other facilities, like the hoist for the pool. You are currently the only wheelchair bound student in school, now Miss Blur has graduated. If you have any issues, please let the front office know. I don't want any hindrance to your education. Any questions for me?”

“No, well I have a couple questions,” Cyclone clarified as Luna was about to walk away, “But not about school. You've just about covered everything I'll need to know.”

“Questions I may not want to answer then,” answered Luna sharply but not unkindly, “I'll leave you to get to your first class, which I believe is on the second floor. Enjoy your ride. Oh, students are still not authorized to use the elevator, so no passengers. Have a good day.”

“Before you go,” Cyclone stopped Luna in her tracks with her back half turned towards her, “Uh, can I ask what's it like, where Principal Celestia's gone to retire? Only question, I promise. I figured you'd know, since it was magic that did this to me.”

Pausing at the door, Luna thought for a moment. Ultimately, she turned to face the teenager. “I'm sure Rainbow Dash has said way too much. Anyway, I can say I've visited her, and it is a nice place. Different, but nice. My sister is happy, and that is what matters to me.”

“Thanks, Principal. Here's to everyone being happy. Even Juniper.” Cyclone smiled at the older woman; grateful she had been as open with her as she had been. “Anyway. I'd better get to Home Ec. Miss Peachbottom's showing us how to bake a cake!”

On her way out of the door, Luna muttered, “I hope she isn't using kirshwasser again…”

Since Cyclone didn’t know what – or who – that was, she didn’t question it. “Maybe I'll cook something that's edible this year?” she giggled to herself and took herself off to the Home Economics room for her class.

~ ~ ~

A few hours later and the school bell rang, signalling the start of the lunch hour. Bluefeather was waiting at the entrance of the cafeteria for Cyclone to arrive, which she did some minutes later. The black skinned teenager wheeled herself up to the cafeteria doors with a deeply unhappy look on her face. “Hey babes.”

“Wow Cy,” Bluefeather was stunned by the sour look on her girlfriend’s face, “I don't know if the lunch menu will be able to turn that frown upside down.” Food was one way to do it though.

“I hate cooking,” Cyclone muttered darkly, “Cooking sucks. Peach Ass sucks and so does Home Ec. Stupid cake, stupid oven, stupid class!”

Bluefeather, who did not have the class with her, simply giggled, “Was the smoke detector used, or a fire extinguisher?”

Despite her mood, the corners of Cyclone’s mouth curled up slightly, “Peachy had to use the extinguisher. What came out wasn't edible in any way…” she then grumbled a series of choice swear words, “The only thing that saved me from an F was the cream filling I made was pretty decent.”

“School still stands,” said Bluefeather breezily, looking around her as if to make sure, “So it is a win!”

“Still two and a bit hours of my life I won't get back...” Cyclone reluctantly giggled, “The only upside was that Gilda was even worse than me.”

“Who's Gilda?” asked Bluefeather completely innocently, “Don't remember that name.”

“Let's get something to eat, and when we're set, I'll show you the video Snapshot took on his phone.”

“After we're done eating,” added Bluefeather with a wink, “I don't want to snort dink out my nose in the cafeteria.”

“A wise precaution, cos trust me, you will laugh,” remarked Cyclone knowingly as she went with Bluefeather to join the line of students waiting to be served, “I've been dreaming about a burger and fries all morning.”

Bluefeather snorted derisively at the predictable choice, “They always have that, but I'm going for the pizza today.”

“Ooh...what do I want...” Cyclone was lost in a world of too much choice, and ultimately she decided to buck her usual trend. “Okay, pizza or burger...damn it, okay, pizza me up!”

“Copycat,” snarked Bluefeather as she helped herself to a couple of slices of the vegetarian pizza and a soda. “They’ve got that thing they call pudding or the other choice looks like vanilla cake with chocolate frosting.”

As she got three slices of the pizza on her tray, Cyclone surveyed the dessert options. Both looked amazing, if she was honest. “Looks better than the burnt effort I made; I'll go with the vanilla cake looking thing.”

Likewise, Bluefeather took the cake for her pudding and she followed Cyclone over to an empty table between the Fashionistas and the Techies. Not her first choice, maybe, but at least they weren’t the Rockers or the Jocks. “Cafeteria food is one thing that will never change.”

“It’s a good thing too,” commented Cyclone after very carefully getting to the table and balancing her tray on her knees. The last thing she needed was a spill on the first day. “How would we know the outside world had good food if CHS's didn't suck?”

“Based on that reasoning, the Burger Joint has good food.”

“Pfft...” snorted Cyclone as she took a large bite out of one of her pizza slices, “I've been telling you that for ages, now you believe me?”

“There’s a saying,” commented Bluefeather after she had taken a far more ladylike bite of her food, “That which doesn't kill you makes you stronger.”

“Jeez,” Cyclone said thickly around the food in her mouth, “Does that mean I'm invincible versus mall sunglasses stands?”

Wisely, Bluefeather nodded, “You're future's so bright you'll need to wear shades.”

“Awesome!” cheered Cyclone heartily as she polished off her first slice of pizza in short order. “New superhero, Sunny Girl.” When she saw Bluefeather reach for her soda, the athlete made her move to sabotage her, “She's wheely good!”

Predictably, Bluefeather snorted a waterfall of soda out of her nose, which she utterly failed to catch in her hand. “You fiend!” she exclaimed when she was done laughing.

“One point to me!” cried Cyclone happily as she set aside her pizza and she pulled out her phone and calls up the Facetube app. She was pleased to see that the video clip 'Gilda Cake Fail' was already posted and it had over two hundred views.

Bluefeather found the three minute clip of a very flustered Gilda pulling open the oven door so hard that she ended up on her ass with the cake splatting on the floor extremely funny. When the heat from the oven burned her eyebrows off she was laughing so hard she almost fell out of her chair. “Well,” she said eventually, “That one does make it look like you know which end of the spoon to stir with, at least.”

“I know right? This is hilarious! Honestly, I could watch this over and over all day!” and so she did, Cyclone repeated the video while she ate her second slice of pizza and slurped up half her soda.

“Yeah, but don't take it too far,” Bluefeather caught sight of Miss Peachbottom walking into the cafeteria, but she chose not to say anything, “Remember, that was you three years ago.”

“C’mon! It's Gilda!” exclaimed Cyclone, unwittingly too loud and she drew the Home Economics teacher’s attention, “Are you gonna tell her I'm laughing my ass off at a clip of her? Cos I'm not.” Just then, Cyclone heard the loud footsteps coming up behind her and she gulped, “She's behind me, right?”

It wasn’t Gilda.

“Ms. Cyclone.” Miss Peachbottom’s usually affable easy going tone was notably absent from her voice. “I've already given Mr. Snapshot detention for taking videos in class. Do you seek that?”

“Gah!” Cyclone flinched in her wheelchair like ice had been dropped down her back. On the one hand she was glad it wasn’t Gilda, on the other hand, it was a teacher. “N-No! Not on my first day, anyway. I mean, no ma'am!”

“Then we can agree that the school is not a place to show videos that shouldn't have been made in school, can’t we?”

“No ma'am, um...I mean, yes ma’am, I mean I’m turning it off, ma'am!” it was a very flustered Cyclone who snatched up her phone and who scrabbled with the buttons to turn it off. Naturally, the buttons were suddenly the size of pinheads and her fingers huge. “I-I’m sorry, ma’am…”

Letting out a snort of satisfaction, Miss Peachbottom turned and walked off without another word, leaving a very embarrassed couple sat at the table. When she was safely gone, Bluefeather whispered, “Busted.”

Cyclone huffed, “Well that sucked balls…” she then muttered not quite under her breath, “I'm not that much of a bratty bitch...anymore…”

At that, Bluefeather raised a pair of extremely sceptical eyebrows so far they disappeared up into her fringe. “Keep saying that and it might become a reality someday.”

“I'm really not!” Cyclone protested and then her eyes caught her phone, and she looked aside like it was accusing her of a war crime. “Well, maybe not much…”

Smirking, Bluefeather leant in close across the table, but she didn't kiss her girlfriend’s lips, “As long as you're my brat, all is good.”

“Always, Mistress, I'm always your brat.”

“I'd kiss you,” smiled Bluefeather affectionately, “But I don't want detention either. I’ll have to find a van to make out with you in later.”

“It just so happens, Mistress, I know of such a van!”

Lightly, Bluefeather bopped Cyclone's nose with her index finger, “After school, my brat. Right after school. Now I have a class I need to get too.”

“Uuuuugh...I hate you're so responsible!” whined Cyclone completely predictably, “Fine, I've got...something, too, I think.” She reached into her bag and took out her schedule planner. Also predictably, she let out a deep groan that came from her soul, “Not IT! That's worse than cooking!”

Giggling happily, Bluefeather skipped out of the cafeteria, leaving Cyclone to bang her head against the table. “High school hates me!”

~ ~ ~

Following a very, very long and incredibly boring afternoon round of lessons that made three hours feel like three years, the school finally let out for the day. Moving like she had a purpose; Cyclone reached her blue minivan first. A few moments later, she saw Bluefeather waving goodbye to some students she didn’t know and then she headed her way amidst a tide of students. “Hey Mistress, I thought you weren't coming.”

Amusedly, Bluefeather wiggled her eyebrows, “Not yet, brat.” The grey skinned teenager thoroughly enjoyed the way her girlfriend blushed at that. “Shall we step into your van of iniquity and find out?”

“You can step in,” Cyclone smirked as she opened up the back door and lowered the ramp, “I'll kinda do a rolling in thing.”

“And I love you for it,” Bluefeather blew Cyclone a long, lingering kiss on her way into the van. While the mass of students leaving the school was thinning out, Bluefeather moved deeper into the van’s interior. “Adding this curtain was a good idea.” She closed the curtain behind the front seat positions to afford them some privacy, and then she laid back on the back bench seat.

“Whoever thought of that was a genius!” agreed Cyclone eagerly, as she carefully slipped out of her wheelchair and onto the bench. “Mistress, I need to confess. I've been a naughty brat today.”

“After lunch?” asked Bluefeather with a casual lift of an eyebrow.

“Well,” Cyclone nodded her head and took a deep breath. She had to admit what she had done. “I stuck my tongue out at you in the home room, but yeah. It was pretty shitty of me to laugh at Gilda.”

“You also made me laugh playing that video at lunch,” pointed out Bluefeather, who had kept herself amused with the memory of the Facetube clip all afternoon.

“I didn't mean laughing at the video,” explained Cyclone, looking down at the floor of her van, “I meant in class.”

“You were very much a brat,” declared Bluefeather in the manner of one passing judgement, “What should I do with you?”

“I should be punished immediately, Mistress,” as she said that, Cyclone’s eyes flickered down to Bluefeather’s shoes and her socks. She knew she had been wearing those socks and shoes all day, and that her feet within would be nice and sweaty by now.

“Oh yes, immediately,” agreed Bluefeather, “But now to think of just how I'll punish you…”

The way her girlfriend left that hanging in the air drove Cyclone crazy with arousal and need. “I can think of a couple of things, Mistress,” she grinned, her eyes again going southward to those very sexy feet, “But they aren't really punishing me.”

“You’re right.” Bluefeather stood up in the van, “Top off,” she ordered simply. She was pleased to see her submissive quickly obey her and take her dress off, leaving her in her onesie. “So that’s what was under your dress.” She then unzipped the pink onesie to leave her bare chested and exposed.

Sat with her chest exposed, Cyclone’s eyes flicked down to her very flat chest and she blushed. “I like it…”

Smirking, Bluefeather pulled out a small bag from her backpack and out of that, she took a pair of nipple clamps, which she brandished like they were a deadly weapon. “Hmm, that is good to know, brat.”

“You carried those around all day?” asked Cyclone, then she quickly remembered she was meant to be in character, “I mean, ma'am?”

“Brat…” Bluefeather didn’t look at her as she reached back into the smaller bag and this time she took out a pair of ear clamps and a couple of short length fine stainless steel chains.

When Bluefeather did look up, she saw Cyclone eyeing the nipple and ear clamps warily, she knew she was wondering what she had in mind. “It’s not like I can spank you. I’d just get a sore hand and have to watch you yawn.” Having said that, she attached the nipple clamps where they were supposed to go and gave them a testing tweak. “You will stop me if I go too far.”

“Ah!” Cyclone gasped at the short sharp pain in her nipples, “Aah! Y-Yes ma'am, I'll stop you, ma'am!” she then giggled slyly to test her, “Like that time you tried to make me watch Marley and Me?”

Somewhat predictably, Bluefeather resorted to eye roll number three as she proceeded to apply the ear clamps to her submissive’s lobes and she tweaked them, hard. “Okay, now for the next trick!” Bluefeather then pulled some one quarter inch white nylon rope out of her backpack. “I wonder what they would have said if they inspected my backpack.”

“They’d have said Shop Class isn't till Wednesday?” offered Cyclone, who reached up and touched the clamps at her ears but she wisely made no attempt to remove them, not without permission.

“Arms out straight, brat,” ordered Bluefeather who, after Cyclone had extended her arms out, made a simple coil binding that went from four inches below to four inches above the elbows so she couldn't bend them. “Now to see just how much upper body strength you really have.”

“I’ve got plenty, Mistress,” Cyclone responded quickly. She was rather proud of the way she had been working out lately, and her developing upper arms were a testament to her hard work. That said, she was wary of the way Bluefeather was smiling at her.

Her ropework done, Bluefeather helped Cyclone up into a sitting position on the bench seat and she moved her arms so they were straight out from her body to the sides. “Now hold them there.”

“Easy, Mistress!” Cyclone didn’t see what the big deal was. She could do this all day!

“So you think…” smiling a wide smile, Bluefeather attached one of the fine metal chains to the nipple clamp on her submissive’s left breast, then she ran it through the fingers of her left hand, around the wrist and back through the fingers and up to the ear clamp on her left ear. She then repeated for the other side. “I've given some thought to this,” she said once she was done, “Raise or lower your arms.”

Not understanding the predicament she was in; Cyclone rolled her eyes as she lowered her arms first. Immediately she yelped at the tug to her ears. When she raised her arms, she yelped again, this time at the sharp tug at her nipples. The cutest thing was the look on her face like she expected a different result. “Ow! Ooooow!” she cried, “Oh...I get it, Mistress.”

“You will, my lovely brat.” Dramatically, Bluefeather reached a hand into her bag, a sinister look on her face, “Now it’s time for the instrument of your correction. Are you ready?” Almost like she was daring her, Cyclone placed her arms at the neutral position. Smirking, Bluefeather pulled out a long peacock feather like she had pulled the sword from the stone. “My lovely topless brat with her armpits fully exposed!”

“Oh no...” As ever, Cyclone had been slow on the uptake, she had been completely oblivious, right until the reveal of the feather. Then, she got it. And she knew she was going to get it.

The dawning look of horror on her brat’s face was the best thing Bluefeather had seen all day, even counting the Gilda video. “MWAHAHAHAHA!” she gave the poor villain laugh as she flourished the feather like a fencers sword, but she didn't touch her with it, not yet.

“Eeeek!” Cyclone squeaked, a squeak that was followed up with an 'ow!' because even though the feather didn't touch her, she flinched and moved her arms up. It was then that Bluefeather lunged forward with the feather only to reverse it at the last second and poke at her brat’s right breast with the pointy end. “Gaah!” Cyclone lowered her arms without thinking and grunted as she pulled on her ears.

“I put a lot of thought into this,” grinned Bluefeather as she used the fluffy end of the feather to lightly trace her way upwards from her brat’s hip to where she knew it would be felt towards her armpit.

“Ah! Haha...mmmm!” Cyclone giggled a little but she forced her arms straight out, refusing to give in and laugh.

“Vat ist dis resistance?” cried Bluefeather, sounding a lot like Photo Finish’s long lost sister. If Cyclone wouldn’t laugh, she would make her laugh. She made the feather dance rapidly over her upper torso.

“N-N-No...no-oohohoho!” Cyclone tried valiantly to keep her arms straight and immobile, but that didn't last long as she started first giggling, then laughing, then guffawing, which of course was interspersed with yelping in pain, then laughing again.

To further increase the torture, Bluefeather added the fingers of the non-feather holding hand to the mix. “Gaaahahaha!” Cyclone laughed harder and she started to spasm and squirm, laughing so hard that she pulled the clamp right off her left nipple and her right ear. “Ow!” she cried, “Ooow! St-staaaahahahahp!” there were tears in her eyes and she was struggling to breathe.

Aa few minutes of tickling later, Bluefeather duly stopped and she used one hand to rub the sore nipple, while the other hand released the other nipple clamp and ear clamp and them she moved to rub the pulled ear. “I noted the right nipple, so you have foiled me again, brat.”

“S-So-Sorry...” Cyclone gasped for breath, blinking away some tears from her eyes, “Mistress!” Bluefeather though thought she had nothing to apologise for, and she moved into a kissing / tongue battle with her brat. “MMmmmm!” it was a battle she was more than happy to lose, as she hugged Bluefeather close, feeling suddenly a lot better.

Following her victory, Bluefeather went into snuggle mode. “On a one to ten on originality. How'd I score?”

“Solid eight,” replied Cyclone after a second of consideration, “I really wasn't expecting the predicament thing. That was clever, babes.”

“I was a bit worried about the amount of pain it would cause,” admitted Bluefeather, “I don't think they heard your scream outside the parking lot.”

“I'd have given you a ten, but the dick move of knowing I'm ticklish earned a minus two.” Cyclone giggles and kissed an outraged, pouting Bluefeather’s freckled nose.

“Brat.”

“Your brat, Mistress.”

Carefully, so as not to pinch her skin, Bluefeather zipped the onesie back up, “You may drive me home, Jeeves.”

“Yes Mistress, home it is.” When she was back in front, safely secured in the driver’s position, Cyclone asked, “You gonna be on SnapChat later?”

“Once my homework is done.”

“Oh, yeah, homework…” Cyclone swore not quite under her breath as she headed on to Bluefeather's place. The smug look on her girlfriend’s face didn’t make it any better, either. “If I get mine done, can I get another pic of your feet?”

“Only after I get a pic of your finished homework.”

“Awwww Blue! That's not fair!” whined Cyclone as she made a very fake pout, “You'll wear those sexy stockings for me?” Annoyingly, Bluefeather tapped her chin like she was actually thinking about it. “Please? Pretty please?”

“I want to see neat homework.”

“I'll spell check it and everything.”

“I do look good in fishnets.”

“You’re even better when you've worn them for three days straight and you rub them on my face,” commented Cyclone, who somehow managed to resist falling into her favourite fantasy.

As she drove along, Bluefeather offered her girlfriend her best eye roll. “Fishnets, Cy. Sexy yes, but not enough to hold anything. Now those wool stocking of mine really do make me sweat, but not sexy.”

“Uh...yeah, I knew what you meant, honest,” giggled Cyclone, who knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, “And I think it's sexy.”

Affectionately, Bluefeather fluffed Cyclone’s turquoise hair. “But of course you do, I'm the sexy after all.” When they arrived at her home, she got out and blew her girlfriend a kiss. “I'll be online at eight, so you have a target goal. I'm off to bed at ten.”

~ ~ ~

A couple of days later and Cyclone was very, very excited at Canterlot High. Thursday was track day! This was the afternoon of the day of the week she had been waiting for all week! After her class was over, Bluefeather met Cyclone at the athlete’s locker and found her excitement thoroughly adorable. “Since you're my ride, I'll stay and watch, and do my homework.”

“Homework sucks,” Cyclone rolled her eyes at her locker, “Why do that when you can enjoy the Cy show?”

“You say it sucks,” commented Bluefeather with a wide smile, “But you did have it done by nine the other night, didn't you?”

“Yes ma'am!” Cyclone had the picture of her Mistress's stocking clad feet on her phone to prove it.

Just then, a girl, who Cyclone recognised as Long Stride walked up already changed into her sports kit. “Cy,” she beamed, “Coach Iron Will asked for me to show you where your chair is. Hi Blue.”

“Hey Stride,” Cyclone high fived her fellow track girl, demonstrating the proper ‘jock hello’ complete with a fist bump at the end. “I'm so looking forward to this!”

“Rumour on the team has it you get to skip hurdles practice,” grinned Long Stride, who was as tall and gangly as her name implied, “Which is the room your chair is in.”

Not being the tallest girl in the world, Cyclone laughed at that. She wouldn’t miss hurdles any more than she would miss math, if only she could miss it. “Good thing. I hated hurdles anyway.”

“You could always put rockets on the chair...” suggested Bluefeather, who nonchalantly inspected the back of her hand.

“Could you? Really?” predictably, Cyclone took all of the bait, “That'd be amazing!”

Long Stride and Bluefeather both shared an eye roll and a laugh, “When she sends you to the moon, Cy.”

As all three of them moved off towards the basement, Bluefeather paused when her girlfriend peeled off to the forbidden door. “Staff? Where are you going? I thought you'd go out the front and around to the building to the back.”

“To the lift,” Cyclone pointed to the forbidden ‘staff only’ door, “Luna said I get to use it, come on.”

Another look was shared between Long Stride and Bluefeather. As one, they made their minds up. “Okay!”

“Well, the stairs are a bit tricky nowadays, so I use this,” they both followed Cyclone through the door and they got on the elevator with her. “This is pretty sweet. I get what Blur was on about now.”

When the elevator finished its short ride down to the basement level, the door opened, revealing a rather smug looking Luna sitting in a chair waiting for them like a lion would wait for a passing gazelle. “Tsk, tsk, Ms. Cyclone.”

“Hello Principle Luna,” Bluefeather greeted her like nothing was amiss, while Long Stride simply smiled brightly.

“Oh come on! I...” Cyclone caught herself way too late following her frustrated outburst, “I mean, hey, Principal Luna!”

Luna looked like the cat with all the cream. “No able body people to ride in the disabled people lift. You know the rules, Ms. Cyclone.”

“Um, escort?” offered Bluefeather lamely.

Long Stride was just as lame, “Ahhh, I’m a guide?”

“I do need a guide and an escort, ma'am.” Cyclone didn’t seriously think that would wash with the new Principal. She was right.

“I'm sure you need many things, Ms. Cyclone,” Luna said as she stood up, “I doubt a guide and an escort are those things. As for you two, don't do it again. I think I'll go watch the track team.” Basking in her win, she walked off to the back exit.

“Ha!” Cyclone cheered only when Luna was well out of earshot, “I wasn't worried for a moment.”

“It’s strange,” said Bluefeather in a most accusatory tone directed to her girlfriend, “She acted like she already told you that.”

“I guess she kinda did,” admitted Cyclone, “But I figured we'd get away with it, y'know, it's the end of the day, nobody's about…”

Grinning, Bluefeather messed with Cyclone's short unruly turquoise hair, “I guess she knows you’re a brat, just like me, and that you’d try to get away with it.”

“She did seem to be waiting here,” pointed out Long Stride.

“That was such a Celestia dick thing to do!” protested Cyclone as the three of them made their way through the basement to the storage area. There was an excited gleam in her eyes at the sight of her shiny red racing chair. “There she is!”

Long Stride then gave Cyclone a copy of the storage room key to Cyclone. “If someone steals the hurdles, I'll never suspect it was you.” She grinned and, after another high five, she headed off to the sports field.

Left alone next to her new as yet untested and unused racing chair, Cyclone parked herself next to it and with some help from her girlfriend to get settled, she was securely strapped in. Unlike with her regular chair, Bluefeather made sure the straps were right and tight. “Now, to put all that rehab to the test.”

“You know it, c'mon, I want to give you something to watch!” Out on the track, Cyclone did very well. Thanks to her exhaustive physiotherapy regimen, as well as her brutal training, she was easily able to beat the other girls, and only two of the boys finished ahead of her.

Iron Will was most pleased. “Keep up the gym work on your upper body, Cy. You need to lean more into the turns but that means you need to work out each arm different so you can do that with a leaning position. Just practice so you don't fall out of the chair.”

“Yes sir!” though she was sweaty from her exertions, Cyclone was all smiles at her performance. While she didn't beat everyone, she did well enough for a first time out. “That was a blast!”

Accordingly, Bluefeather applauded, “You were very much in the zone!”

“Babes that felt awesome!” Cyclone flexed her arms, only too happy to show off for her girlfriend, who blushed at her bulging muscles, “I think I'm faster now than I was before! Just need to nail those corners…”

Affectionately, Bluefeather placed a finger on Cyclone’s lips, “Let’s go back to your place for a bath and I'll give you a rub down.”

“Yes ma'am!” Cyclone was very much up for that, and after she had taken the racing chair back to the basement, swapped over to her every day chair, she lead the way out of the school back to the van.

“Then I'll help you with your homework so we can relax a bit,” Bluefeather smiled as she kissed Cyclone lovingly on the lips. The athlete’s deep groan into the kiss was a priceless thing, one that Bluefeather savoured, “I'm not going to college without you, doofus.”