Hivemind Control

Twilight woke the next... morning? Was it morning? She couldn't tell. She was still groggy, likely a result of her sleep being under the glowing lights of the mushrooms. The fact that there was always a light on her, despite its very dim glow, had likely hindered her ability to enter a proper REM cycle.

At least she'd found comfort in the bed itself. The moss was springy and soft, and not as cold as she might have assumed. Even better, there weren't any small bugs crawling around in it. Just big ones. She rolled over to look at Cercus, who was still in her bed. He had no problem sleeping in these conditions, it seemed. He'd made himself comfortable, even going so far as to wrap his left leg around her while she slept.

She rolled out of the bed and kicked him in the gut. In her mind, it was about him being able to sleep soundly while she was incapable, but that would not be the reason she gave. "I told you not to touch me!"

As the door guards rushed in with their weapons ready to eviscerate her, Cercus stood up. The blow had knocked him to the floor, but he casually waved the guards away, rubbing his gut. "That's quite a way to wake somepony, princess," he groaned. "I would recommend against it, though. Most of the hive, if you were to wake them in such a manner, they may not stop the guards."

Twilight scowled. "I told you not to touch me."

"That you did," nodded Cercus. "That you did. But I suspect you'll change your tune. Before long, you'll be begging for my gentle caress."

"That's not going to happen," growled Twilight. "And since I now know your plan, I'm not going to let you achieve it."

"Oh, I don't think you have a choice," chuckled Cercus. "You will find that I have complete control over the situation. And even if I were to lose control of it, it's not like we needed you in one piece."

"Is that a threat?"

"No, rather a warning. If you do as we ask, this will be a lot less harmful. Fighting back is only going to worsen your situation."

Twilight glared through her eyebrows. "I'm not going to be one of your sex slaves."

"I'm not asking you to be. The amount of chafing and swelling I've experienced, I need a break from the sex. I'll be using you for... other things."

"Like what?"

Cercus made his way to the foot of the bed. From beneath it, he slid out a footlocker, and pulled from it a hairbrush. "First, we can't have you looking like an unwashed tramp. I'm going to brush your mane and tail."

"I'm perfectly capable of brushing my own mane and tail," spat Twilight. "I'm not incompetent."

"I know," smiled Cercus. "I do not intend to imply that you are an imbecile. But at the moment, I am disallowing you to brush your own mane and tail. That is for me to do. Sit."

Twilight held out her hoof. "Give me the brush. I'll do it myself."

Cercus sighed. For a moment, his horn glowed softly, and Twilight found that her front hoof was now stuck to the floor with changeling goop. As she lowered her other hoof to try pulling out, it too was stuck. "You're not going to weasel your way out of this," said Cercus. "Your choices are to either sit down and let me brush your mane and tail, or I can force you down, tie you up, and then brush your mane and tail. If you sit on your own, I will not bind you to the floor."

"I know what you really want," she snarled. After a few seconds, however, she lowered her hips to the floor and sat down. "You have a very kickable face. Remember that."

Cercus shifted just his head and voice to match Shining Armor. "How's this for a face?" he chuckled as he moved behind her.

"Don't push your luck," she growled. As his perforated hoof gently brushed past her ear, she shivered. He wasn't causing her any pain, just discomfort. What she really needed right now was a bath, but who knew if there was even a place to do that here in the hive. There was a high probability that there was plumbing, as it was a necessity to the ponies living there, but a bathtub was significantly less likely.

"You are absolutely tangled," chuckled Cercus, his hoof rubbing against her neck as he removed some of the knots. "It's good that you're having it brushed out now. If you tried to go back to Canterlot with all of this, you'd need to shave this all off."

"If you come anywhere near my mane with scissors, you'll learn just how sharp they can be," growled Twilight. In truth, she rather enjoyed having somepony else brush her mane for her, but only with full consent. Rarity, for example, was very soothing when she was doing something with her mane, and there was always the guarantee that it would come out stunning. With Cercus, he did not ask for permission, and his hoof was very disconcerting.

Still, he wasn't doing a terrible job. Despite not having his own mane and tail, Cercus seemed perfectly suited to the task. It was quite possible, even a bit likely, that he'd done this for another pony, or had attempted it while shifted into a pony form. She hoped it was the latter, though the former seemed more likely. So lost was she in her thoughts that she even seemed to forget who was brushing her mane and just enjoyed the clean feeling once again. But then, he ruined it by speaking again.

"Stand."

She wrapped her tail tightly around her leg. "You have what you wanted," she reasoned. "You touched my neck. Let me do my own tail."

"You have nothing to worry about," said Cercus. "In fact, I make a promise to you now: Until you beg for it, no changeling will penetrate your perfectly pristine purple pony pussy. I will ensure it personally. Now stand."

"You've lied to me before," groused Twilight. "I can't trust a promise from you."

"This one is true," said Cercus, "but I suppose you're right. Stand up, anyway."

Twilight remained sitting until Cercus grabbed her hip with his left hoof. As she stood up to kick him, he secured her back hooves to the ground, locking her in a standing position, unless she decided to lower her body all at once, or just her front end. She started flapping her wings wildly to try hitting him or blowing him away, but he kept a tight hold on her tail, brushing it in spite of her pulling away. He'd given her the choice, and she had opted for the hard way.