Author's Note

Author's warning:
There are definite loads of objectionable content in this chapter. It can be skipped, but lifts the curtains on Diamond's past. Read at your own risk.

Diamond's Home

The games we played were just that—games. It started simple enough. I’d boss her around, she’d joke about it, and then she’d do whatever it was I told her to. One time, we were out for recess at school. Cherilee wasn’t around, and Spoon said something dumb, so I pushed her down. For a moment, I panicked that I might have hurt her since she didn’t seem to move. She just lay there, still and silent in the dirt until she looked up at me with a goofy smile and a strange flush.

Do it again.

Why wouldn’t I? I didn’t know any better and neither did she. We were kids, and we played. During the day we’d run around being little terrors, harassing other kids and causing problems for adults. Once the sun went down, we had to go home. Spoon didn’t like her house. Her parents were never home, and it wasn’t as… nice as mine. I had a big house with lots of space, and Mommy was always home. Daddy was gone sometimes, but Mommy was always there to watch us.

So Spoon got regular permission to stay over. She stayed over almost every night. We’d play with dolls, pretending they were the other ponies in our class and making fun of them. Then we’d have dinner, sitting around our dining room table and quietly eating while Mommy would just poke at the food she’d made. We weren’t allowed to talk during dinner, but that was fine.

After we were excused from the table, it would be time for a bath and then bed. Spoon would braid my mane after the bath sometimes. We’d stay up late, talking and laughing, being careful not to wake Mommy. That’s when we started playing our games. They honestly were innocent bits of fun.

I’d pretend to be a princess, and Spoon would pretend to be my servant. I’d ask for something, she’d do it or get it for me, and I’d pretend that she got it wrong. Then I’d tap her. I’d bop her on the head, or push her to the floor, or maybe have her give me her hoof so I could smush it. She loved it, always giggling, and asking me to do something else.

It was a fun game, but over the years it escalated. Little taps became actual slams, nudges turned into kicks, and nibbles turned into full on bites. Instead of a smush, I’d stomp on her hoof. Sometimes she’d bleed or bruise, but she didn’t mind. Most important out of all, Spoon’s little giggles and silly faces turned into tears, a deep red blush, and desperate eyes. She always wanted more, but I never actually wanted to hurt her, not really. The game was fun for me, but not in the same way it was for her. I enjoyed being bossy and cruel, but Spoon got something out of it that I just didn’t understand.

Everything changed one night when we were about 12. She’d somehow gotten her hooves on a whip. A real, made of leather and used to hurt adult ponies whip. We snuck the taboo weapon into my room, and hid it under my sheets for later. The day was full of nervous excitement as we knew that our little pretend game would be significantly more real that night. It was so taboo and strange that even I was licking my lips in anticipation.

We eagerly did our evening routine, trying hard to hide our excitement. I think… I think Mommy noticed during dinner. She saw our glances. She saw Spoon’s blush, and my longing gaze. She watched us during our bath. We didn’t realize it, instead focusing on laughing and splashing like we usually did. She watched us braid manes, sitting nearby and pretending to read her book.

When she kissed me goodnight, and turned off the light, I thought we were safe. We waited until I heard her hoofsteps clip clapping loudly back to her room with all the normal prim grace. She’d lingered by our door for longer than usual, but not impossibly long.

Spoon got up first, and smiled as I slid the whip out of our hiding place. We stared at it a while, unsure what to do or how to use it. The real leather was enchanting. Right there, in our room was an actual tool to hurt ponies. I remember how strange and bitter the leather tasted in my mouth when I picked it up. How surprisingly light the whole thing was. How it slid through the air with ease when I gave it an experimental flick.

I liked it. Holding that whip lit a fire in my heart that I’ve never felt again. It made me feel powerful, and it made me feel important. That night, our game wasn’t pretend. It was real. I hurt Spoon, and she loved it.

We used it a few times, the game mostly forgotten as I simply whipped her. We were so focused on the whip and each other, that we’d made a mistake. Neither of us had heard Mommy sneak back. I cracked the whip loudly, forcing Spoon on her back so I could get to her soft belly. The door opened as I struck, and it startled me, causing me to miss my mark. The whip struck lower, at delicate and sensitive flesh I’d been careful to avoid, and Spoon screamed.

A strange smell filled the room, and she shook as she cried out. I’ll always remember that moment. The first time I saw a pony move like that. The first time I understood what that little flush she’d had for years meant. The first time I heard her real, naked voice. The first time I knew who Silver Spoon was. I saw her, and I knew she was beautiful.

In the moment, I forgot that Mommy was there…

“Diamond, what the ever loving fuck are you doing?”

Mommy was furious. She rushed past me, and grabbed Silver by the mane. “Is that a fucking whip?”

I was frozen, still entranced by what I’d seen, my nostrils flaring as I tried to understand the tingling burning thing that Spoon had woken up inside of me. “Where the hell did you two get a whip?”

I didn’t answer. She ripped it from my mouth, then glared at Spoon. “I won’t let you corrupt my daughter, you little tramp.”

Mommy dragged the dumbstruck Spoon from my room, and locked the door. She took the whip as well. I didn’t know what to do. I was still enamored with what I’d seen. I lowered my nose to the floor, and smelled where Spoon had been. It smelled like that moment, and my spine tingled.

Mommy was right. I had been corrupted, and I knew it. I glanced at the door. Was I a bad pony? Did that matter? I needed to see Spoon again, so I tried the door. It was locked, but that had never stopped me before.

I pulled a hairpin from my vanity, and set to work on the lock. It took a few tries since my hooves were shaking so badly from the adrenaline, but eventually I got it. I had to find my Spoon.

Even though our mansion was large, it wasn’t hard to figure out where they were. I could hear the screaming from my room, and knew they were in Mommy’s room.

“You little fucking slut! You tramp!” Mommy’s voice was loud, booming through the halls of our mansion. She was furious.

I ran, terrified for Spoon. Mommy could get nasty when she got angry.

“You worthless little insect! You thought you could, what, fuck my daughter?”

There was a thump, and then a scream. I heard Spoon cry when I got to the door. I tried to open it. It was locked. I looked for my hairpin, and couldn’t find it.

“Are you crying? I’ll give you something to cry about!” Another thump, this time louder.

Spoon shrieked, and then I heard her labored coughs. “I’m sorry! It won’t happen again! I’m sorry! I’ll go home!”

I shuddered in fear for Spoon. My whole body was quaking as the excitement and wonder bled into a dreadful realization. Mommy was going to send Spoon away. I had to get inside. There were more hairpins back in my vanity, but I’d have to run across the whole mansion again. My hooves were trembling, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to use one anyways.

“You aren’t getting away from me that easily, you little slut. You want to get whipped? Fine! I’ll fucking whip you…” Mommy’s voice dropped into a low growl.

The trembling in my hooves grew to an uncontrollable shake.

“No! Please! I’m sorry!” Crack. “AAA!”

That scream was pure pain. I closed my eyes, tears running down my face.

“How was that, huh? Good enough for you? Or did you want it harder?” Crack.

Spoon’s lungs emptied in an animal shriek. “AaaaaAA!”

Crack.

Scream.

Crack.

Scream.

“Please… Please stop. I’ll go away. I’ll never come back. Please…”

My whole body felt weak and helpless as I curled up into a ball.

Mommy’s voice was cold, cruel. “You think I’d let you go like that?”

Thump. “How does it feel to be under my hooves, Silver? How does it feel to know your fucking place? You so much as touch Diamond again, and I will beat you so hard you’ll never walk straight again.”

Sniffing, crying, and mumbling was Silver’s only response. I shivered, feeling my stomach churn. This was my fault. I never should have taken the whip. I should have been more careful. I was the smart one out of the two of us. I should have known better.

There was silence for a moment, and I thought maybe it was over. I put my ear to the door, and heard heavy breathing and a new noise. Something quiet and wet, like the sound of an oil paintbrush on paper.

I heard Mommy laugh. “Look at that. You do like my hoof.”

The sound grew louder and Spoon softly cried.

“That’s right, you little freak. You fucking love this, don’t you?”

I didn’t know what was happening, or why Mommy’s voice was so low and throaty. She didn’t sound mad, exactly. She sounded… eager? My stomach tumbled in confusion.

Spoon’s soft crying turned into heavy whining.

I listened closely, desperately trying to figure out what was happening.

There was another thump and Silver made a new noise, but it wasn’t a scream. It was a gurgle, followed by a squeak.

Mommy laughed, sounding happy. “Holy shit. I can’t believe you just did that from my fucking hoof. What a little tramp you are. Tell you what, Silver. I’ll let you keep being Diamond’s friend.” I blinked, hopefully. Was it over? “Although, we can’t be letting your little urges corrupt her, can we?”

No noises except the wet paintbrush. I held my breath to listen closer.

Mommy whispered something, I couldn’t hear.

Spoon groaned back, fighting for breath. “Yesss… Mrs. Rich.”

“That’s a good little bug.” Smack. Smack… The smacks were softer. My stomach was burning from holding my breath, but I had to hear more. I smelled her, from under the door. Spoon’s special smell.

Then Spoon screamed, and screamed and screamed. It wasn’t a pained scream, but she didn’t stop for a long time.

“You’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you, my little Silver?”

A desperate response. “Yes… Mrs. Rich.”

Mommy laughed, and I felt sick. The wet paintbrush noise started again, and I blinked. Silver was… not being hurt. Not too much, at least. She didn’t need me to save her.

I stumbled away from the door, and ran to the bathroom where I threw up.

That night, Spoon never came back to my room. I tried to sleep, but I kept hearing her every so often, screaming through the mansion. I kept reminding myself that she didn’t need me to save her.

She didn’t need me.

The morning after, the three of us sat around the table for breakfast. We had to get ready for school. Mommy looked more chipper than I’d ever seen her before. She’d made pancakes and gave us both extra syrup while she hummed happily around the kitchen. Spoon looked barely alive. She had a hollow gaze, and wouldn’t look me in the eyes. Her mane was a mess, and her glasses were smudged. I probably looked terrible as well.

We went to school, and she didn’t talk to me until after lunch.

She said she was sorry. I said it was okay. She asked if we were still friends. I promised her we were. Things felt better for the rest of the day. I asked if she was going to go to her house tonight, and she got quiet. Her answer confused me.

“I think… I think your house is my home now.”

I didn’t ask anymore. The way she said it made me feel uneasy as an uncomfortable weight settled in my stomach.

That night, Mommy watched us gleefully. I didn’t play with Spoon, instead we both quietly did homework. She didn’t want to talk to me, and I wasn’t sure what to say. We ate. We bathed quietly, and then she braided my mane in silence. All while Mommy watched.

Then, it was time for bed. Mommy brought us to my room, and kissed me on the head. Silver stayed by the door.

I was confused, so I tried to fix it. “Mommy, can Spoon stay with me tonight?”

She frowned. “No. You two are growing up, and I don’t want her corrupting you, Diamond. You’re better than her and she’s a bad influence. You can play during the day, and I understand that her parents can’t watch her at night so she has to stay here. Unfortunately, I can’t let her sleep in here with you. I caught you doing something very, very bad.”

My heart stopped beating. Mommy did something with Spoon too. Why was it just bad for me? I thought about arguing, fighting her about it. I glanced at Spoon. She shook her head, warning me. I trusted her. If Spoon didn’t want to fight about it, I wouldn’t.

“Goodnight, Spoon.”

“Goodnight, Diamond…” She looked sad. I was sad.

I slept a little that night, but only after she stopped screaming.

Time passed, and that became our normal. Spoon and I would still play our games, but only during the day when we could sneak away. More frustratingly, now there were rules. No whips, obviously. I could punch, hit or kick her all I wanted, but certain parts of her were off limit. Parts that I really wanted to touch. I tried to break the rules a few times, but Spoon wouldn’t let me.

“She’ll know.”

“How would she know, Spoon?”

“Trust me, she’ll know.”

I trusted her. We grew even closer. Our strange relationship only seemed to blossom, and before I knew it, I was in love. It didn’t matter that she always slept at our house, but never with me. It didn’t matter that some parts of her were off limits. It didn’t even matter that she screamed every night for a different pony, even on nights when Daddy was home. I loved her, and she loved me.

Then, when we were about 15 or so, the parties started happening. She warned me about them, but like most things with her I didn’t understand until it was too late.

“So… tonight’s going to be a little different, Diamond.”

“I don’t want to hear about your nights, Spoon.”

“I know you sneak out sometimes. I can tell when you’re listening behind the door.”

She wasn’t wrong. “Fine. Whatever.”

“Tonight there are going to be some ponies over…”

I rolled my eyes. “And?”

“Well, they are coming over after our bath time. I’m not going to be able to braid your mane tonight…”

I glared at her. “What does that mean, Silver?”

“I’m going to be… busy.”

“With those ponies?”

“Yes.”

“While you are supposed to be braiding my mane?”

“Yes…”

I growled. “I don’t like this, Spoon.”

“I know… I have to, okay? Please, don’t come out of your room tonight. No matter what you hear, no matter what you think, just go to your room after your bath. Lock the door from the inside. I’ll lock the outside for you, before Mrs. Rich gets a chance.”

I didn’t want to know. I told myself that. She could keep her disturbing nighttime activities to herself. I didn’t care. I had her during the day. “Fine. Just, do it before Mommy does. I hate when she locks me in my room. If you do it then I’ll stay.”

Spoon seemed relieved, and we dropped it. Later that night, Mommy warned me over dinner. “I’m having some guests tonight, Diamond. You are to stay in your room.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “Yeah, Spoon already warned me, Mommy.”

She glared at Spoon. “Did she? Well… I’ll deal with that later. You are older now, I suppose.”

Spoon quietly ate, like she was supposed to.

That night I looked out the window to our courtyard. I saw carriages arrive, and ponies came out in costumes. They all had little masks covering their eyes and wore big diamond ring stickers over their cutie marks. Some ponies you could easily tell who they were. The Cakes, the Brights, a few lesser nobles I knew… The others were either ponies I didn’t know or ponies whose costumes were too well done.

I decided I didn’t care. They could have their fun party. I locked my door, and I heard another click from the outside at the same time.

“Goodnight, Diamond.” It was Spoon, and she sounded sad. I didn’t know why she was sad, she got to go to a fun costume party.

I growled. “Goodnight, Silver Spoon.”

At least the noise of the party covered up any screaming, and I slept fairly well.

The next day, Spoon was walking funny, and I joked about it. “Did you grow a limp over night? You can’t even walk straight.”

Spoon chuckled. “Heh… Yeah, it kind of hurts, but that’s fine… I don’t… ah… particularly mind a little pain.”

I laughed at her, innocently amused since I knew she liked our little games. “Poor, infirm old Spoony. Don’t worry, I’ll help you get around.”

That day I helped open doors for her, and let her drape a hoof over me for long walks. She seemed grateful, and by the end of the day she was better from her little limp.

We stayed out a little late, knowing we’d catch hell from my mom, but not caring.

We talked.

“Spoon, if you don’t want to keep doing this, we can run away.”

She shook her head. “We can’t run, Diamond.”

“We can. I have… a little account. I’ve been busy. All those documents you see me sign and send out, the little project I’ve been working on at school when they think I’m doing homework, it’s money, Spoon. Real money.”

“Money? Diamond, you’re rich. You don’t need money.”

“I am now. Up until now, my parents have been rich, and I… just had you.”

“You are such a sap, DT.” She nuzzled me. My heart fluttered.

“I’m serious, Spoon. I could buy us an island off the coast of Prance. We could leave tomorrow.”

She laughed. “DT… That’s sweet of you, but I’m fine. We have to graduate first, right? No one will take you seriously if you don’t graduate.”

I sighed. “Fine. When we graduate, you’ll come with me, though? We can go somewhere where there are no other ponies. I can do all my work from mail.”

Spoon nuzzled me again, leaning into me as we watched the sun set. “I’d like that, DT. I’d like that a lot.”

Mommy didn’t like that we were late. Spoon screamed lots that night, but I didn’t care. I was in love.

The party nights happened more often, almost every week. I’d check out the window, and watch the rotating guests in their costumes. Then, I’d lock the door and say goodnight to Spoon. She’d lock the outside, and tell me goodnight.

Until one night, she didn’t. I didn’t know where she was, but she forgot to lock my door. Mommy came by and did it. Angry doesn’t begin to describe me. I was livid. That moment was for me, that was mine to have, and Spoon had forgotten it.

I waited until the party was in full swing, and then I got my hairpin. I was older, and had a few dresses I never wore. An ugly brown one would cover my mark, and I could bundle my mane up into a ridiculous hat. I’d seen the masks enough that it was easy to fake one with makeup and construction paper. By the time I was done, the only speck of color you could see was my snout. It was as good as I was going to get, and far better than most of the cobbled together costumes I’d seen through the window.

I slipped through the halls, terrified of being caught but pissed off beyond belief. Nopony was there, there was no risk. I wandered the mansion, following the sounds of revelry, soft moans, and clinking glass until it lead me to the ballroom.

I peeked in the door, and saw the world of adults—Silver Spoon’s world.

Ponies were drunk, dancing happily. Many were in the corner, kissing. Some were on top of other ponies, groaning and gyrating. The light was low, and the music was loud enough. It stank like the smell from under Mommy’s door. Smoke wafted in layers, burning my lungs.

I stepped inside, nervous at first. Then I remembered who I was. This was my house. I raised my head high, and walked through the alien debauchery with confidence and purpose. I didn’t think about it. I just needed to find her. I needed her to tell me goodnight.

Ponies stumbled to and fro, drunk. One put a hoof on my flank. I kicked him without looking, and walked forward without saying another word. My eyes searched through the smoke, through the bodies, and through the soft light with determination. I was going to find her.

It was surprisingly easy. There she was, dead center of the ballroom in all her glory. Spoon was tied to a table, a little half moon that only supported her back and left her hooves and head dangling. She was wearing a mask, and her mane was done up different, curled so you couldn’t see her streak. Her mark was covered by a large sticker that looked like a ring, the same as everypony else.

Even though she was disguised, I knew it was her instantly. I knew that neck, those arms, and that heaving stomach. I needed to talk to her, but she was busy. There was a stallion between her legs, thrusting violently forward into her body. Another was at her head, thrusting into it as she drooled over the strange long limb. I cognitively knew it was a penis, but my mind refused to admit what I was seeing.

Spoon obviously had come to terms with it. In fact, she was so comfortable with it that she had it all the way down her throat. I huffed, angrily. She couldn’t tell me goodnight when she was like that. I wasn’t sure how to stop them, so I waited and watched. I couldn’t care less about the stallions, but I watched Spoon. She was gorgeous, writhing and shifting in the dim light between the two larger stallions. Butterflies flipped in my stomach, and I felt both nauseous and euphoric.

My gaze drifted to the dressings around her to give me a moment's reprieve from the sight. There was a wheel above her, multicolored and with little words on it. My eyes flicked at the wheel. The sign above it was well lit and easy to read. My stomach flipped and tumbled even more violently as I read it.

“Can’t decide what to do with Mrs. Rich’s party favor? Spin the wheel, and leave a mark for the night! She loves marks.”

I tried not to look too closely at the wheel, but my eyes were too fast to stop.

Pussy – 8 tallies
Asshole – 6 tallies
Deepthroat – 3 tallies
Paddle – 7 tallies
Whip – 4 tallies

I stopped there, even though the list continued. There were more sections, more tallies, and more… options. The wheel was just one suggestion. The whip. It was hanging up, on a little stand next to the wheel. It was the same whip.

That was all I could think about. Spoon had been whipped—with our whip—by at least 4 ponies tonight. I was growling, infuriated that my most precious and private memory was on display like this. I had dreamed about that whip for years. I had yearned for it, for everything it signified and the power it held. I was obsessed with that one moment where I had used it on her. That one moment where she squirmed and writhed and I knew her through the whip. Yet here it was, being lavished on Spoon by 4 different ponies. Already 4 tonight. How many ponies had whipped her on other nights? How many had watched her? How many knew her more intimately than I did? An act that seemed such an unreachable pinnacle of existence to me was just one shitty option. One obscene outcome on the wheel for all these nameless and faceless ponies.

A larger stallion tapped my shoulder. “You here to play, or are you here to watch?”

I awkwardly muttered my response, realizing I needed to maintain my cover. “Watch.”

He laughed. “Ooh, she’s something all right. Wish I knew who she was. I’d love to give her a few tries outside of these parties. At least I get a few goes with her every week though, right?”

My mind blanked. “Yeah.”

“So, if you aren’t going to take a turn, do you mind if I cut in line when they’re done? I’m itching for another round… That pussy is easily the best one here. No offense… Unless you want me to compare?” He sounded hopeful.

“I’ll pass. I need to talk to her.” I was disgusted.

He seemed confused. “Is this your first time here? She doesn’t talk to anyone. Well, anyone except for Mrs. Rich.”

I seethed, my disgust rolling into a steady rage. “She will to me.”

He hummed, waiting behind me and watching closely. I felt him watching me, his eyes dancing up and down my godawful dress. He was pointless, so I ignored him, focusing instead on Spoon.

The stallion between her legs grunted, pushing forward hard with a wet slap. When he pulled back, their pubic mounds had glistening little sticky strings of white and clear… stuff connecting them, like they were two slices of melted cheese pizza being pulled apart. Spoon’s hips thrust upwards, and she moaned into the other’s penis.

The other stallion grunted, shoving himself violently down her throat. His balls hung in front of her nose, and she breathed deeply around his swollen piece. I watched silently, waiting for “my turn” as the stallion had said, with the party favor.

He moaned, then pulled it out. I watched her tongue loll out of her head, and saw her gurgle some white bubbles before she swallowed. Much of it spilled out, dripping slowly and thickly down her face.

The stallion at her mouth left without a second glance, and the pointless one behind me tapped me. “It’s your turn.”

I didn’t acknowledge him. Instead I walked over to her face, and knelt in front of her. Her eyes glanced at me, but she didn’t seem to recognize me. She opened her mouth, expecting me to put something in it. I lowered my face down to hers, and glared at her as I whispered in rage. “Tell me fucking goodnight, Spoon.”

Her eyes went wide, and she glanced around the room in a panic. She reeked of booze, and I gagged. “God this is disgusting…” I stared at her, still whispering. “Tell me fucking goodnight.”

Spoon’s eyes teared up, and a dry, hoarse whisper eked out of her ragged throat. “G… Goodnight, Diamond.”

I sighed, suddenly at ease as the anger melted away. Whispering softly, I bent down to kiss her lips. “Good night, Spoon.” They were salty, dry, and sticky. They trembled like flower petals in a breeze when I graced them. She moaned.

I stood up, licked my lips, and walked away. The stallion was watching me, I felt him burning a hole into the back of my neck but I didn’t care. I heard him mumble in amazement. “Hot damn…”

He hadn’t heard us, but he’d seen us. I didn’t care.

I kept my poise, walking to the door, and slipped out the way I slipped in. I walked confidently, like I belonged, but I made a stop. I stopped by dad’s cabinet, and grabbed a big white vial of something, anything. It turned out to be vodka. Spoon was drunk. I couldn’t be at the party, but I could be drunk.

I carried the bottle to my room, and went inside and locked my door. I licked my lips. They were salty, sticky, and soft. Carefully, I took off my dress and hid it back in my closet. I slipped my makeshift mask into the vanity. I sat down on the floor.

Then I cried. I cried for everything I saw, and everything I didn’t. I cried so hard that I nearly choked on my own spit.

I didn’t stop crying until I passed out from the vodka.

That was the start of my drinking. I made a habit to sneak a new bottle of something before every party. Spoon never again forgot to tell me goodnight, and I didn’t need to sneak out anymore. Time passed, and we were getting close to graduating. One more year of hell and then she’d come with me to my island. I owned things now. Real things. Ponies didn’t know who I was, but they knew somebody was making big movements. I had arranged a hostile takeover of my dad’s company. He had no idea. As soon as we graduated, we’d be gone.

Then it happened. Everything fell apart. One morning, at school, Spoon pulled me aside in the bathroom.

Her whisper was quiet and conspiratorial. “DT… I’m pregnant.”

I blinked. “Who’s the father?”

She rolled her eyes, like the answer was obvious. “I have no idea.”

I balked. “Not even a clue?”

She snorted. “DT, I’ve fucked every stallion in Ponyville. Probably just in the last two weeks.”

I shrugged. “Not every stallion. I mean, there’s my dad.”

She paused, her eyes opening wide in disbelief. “Seriously, DT? Are you blind? He was my first stallion. Mrs. Rich plated me up like some kind of weird peace offering, begging him not to leave her. The only reason your parents are still together is that he fucks me at least four times a week. Since I’ve been 12 I’ve been his night cap before Mrs. Rich takes me for the night. That’s not even counting the parties. How did you not realize this?”

My blood drained. Dad was nice. He was okay. He hugged me when he was home. He loved me. He got me presents and read me stories. He wouldn’t… Spoon didn’t lie to me. She never lied to me, even if it was about Daddy. He’d fucked her. “What?”

“This could be your sister. Or brother.” Her eyes were wide.

I couldn’t handle that, so I ignored it.

Spoon kept going. “Or, fuck. It could be my sister or brother.”

I covered my mouth. She hadn’t said that. “Spoon, no… You didn’t.”

She scowled. “I never have a choice! He doesn’t know who I am, and I am not about to fucking tell him. I knew it was him right away. I always can tell when it’s him, his disguise is shit. Mrs. Rich warned me that she was inviting him to the parties, and then there he was. Pounding away at my pussy like a drunken animal. Every single fucking time he finishes inside. He always says my pussy is the best at the party, and tries to use it like some kind of pickup line while he waits for his turns. Sometimes it even works.”

I shuddered. I hadn’t needed to know that. This was all too much. “What… are you going to do?”

She shook, terrified. “I… I don’t know. I have to do something for it… I can’t let it live like this. I’m going to be a mother.”

I noticed how pretty she looked. “You could run away with me…”

She smiled. It was beautiful. “You… always joke about that, DT. If only we could.”

I blinked. “It’s not a joke. It’s never been a joke. I’ve already started the process of taking over Barnyard Bargains. Daddy has no clue it’s me, he’s terrified. I own 15 separate companies in Manehattan, under different pen names. They're all mine. One of them is a company that I have do my tax returns. I could liquidate it all for… 90 million, I think, right now.” I’d have done it in a heartbeat. I’d have done anything for her.

She stared at me in disbelief. “Are you… Have you… For real?”

I nodded. “For real. Lets go. We’ll give your foal a life. Your brother, my sister, it won’t matter and we won't know. They’ll be our kid. We’ll love them.”

Spoon started to melt, tears streaming down her face. “DT… You don’t…. I don’t deserve that.”

I shrugged. “I don’t give a fuck, Spoon. Just promise you’ll be mine. Promise me that you’ll stay with me forever.” What can I say? I was in love.

“I… I promise.”

I nodded, relieved and filled with butterflies. “Good. I’ll start the paperwork tonight. We can move out tomorrow. Nobody is going to care if I graduated or not. Hell, we'll fake some degrees and lie about our age. Nopony can stop us. It’s too late. I’ve just been waiting for you to say the word.”

I was wrong.

That night, Spoon snuck back into my room after Mommy was done with her. We kissed. We kissed lots. I rolled her on her back, I tasted her. I loved her, I felt her, and she belonged to me. Nothing was off limits.

Until the door opened.

“Diamond! Silver! What the fuck?”

Spoiled Rich, my Mommy, was standing in the door. She was livid. I stood up, and I smiled. I was filled with confidence. It was all going to be over. “I’m taking her.”

“Like hell you are. You are a genius, Diamond. You shouldn’t waste your time on this little cunt. She’s nothing. She’s an insect to squash under your hooves.”

Spoon curled up, hiding behind me.

“If I’m so great, then I should get what I want. So I’m taking her.”

Spoiled grew livid. “Taking her? You? How is your little ass going to take her? Come back when you’re an adult, honey. You’ve just been playing kissy face with her. I’ll show you how to really make her scream…”

I stood my ground, stepping up to her. I rarely demanded things from Mommy, but when I did I always got my way. “I’m taking her, Spoiled. We are leaving tomorrow.”

She glared at me. “You little… shit stain. You think you can boss me around? I gave birth to you. I’ve put up with your demanding little ass for your whole life, and given up so much for you. This is how you treat me? This is my house, Diamond. I own it, and I own everypony in it. That means I own this little skank, but you know what else it means?”

She walked up to me, eyeing me dangerously. I held my ground, silent and smirking. I was confident and felt indestructible. After all, I was free now.

“It means I own you!” she screamed, her teeth bared like a wild animal.

I didn’t think she’d do it. She’d been angry before, but she’d never struck me. So the headbutt not only surprised me, but it sent me spiraling to the floor, and caused the world to black out. I felt myself being pulled along the floor, but every time I blinked it felt like we were somewhere else.

When I woke up, I was restrained. Tied to some bondage device that Mommy owned. One of many, it seemed. I was in a room that I didn’t know, somewhere in the mansion.

My eyes couldn’t focus, but I saw Spoiled sitting in a chair, with Spoon’s head buried in her crotch and noisy slurps happening. I blinked a few times, and Spoiled grinned.

“You little fuck. I guess I’ve been too lenient with you, huh? I promised you I’d show you how to make Silver here scream when you were an adult. You think you’re an adult? Then watch…”

I watched. I watched her whip Spoon, I watched her beat Spoon, and I watched her make Spoon smile in a way that broke my heart.

They had pet names. She was Mrs. Rich. Spoon was just… Spoony.

I watched all night, and all day. We both missed school that day. Spoon screamed. Mommy showed me how to make her really scream. The sex acts burned into my brain, but only because Spoon enjoyed them. What hurt me, what broke me wasn’t even anything Spoiled did. It was all Spoon. She said things. They came naturally and practiced, all unprompted.

“I love your cunt, Ms. Rich.” In a low, hungry growl, her eyes desperately searching Mommy’s depths.

“I’m your slut, Mrs. Rich.” With a happy, sing song note of joy as Mommy used a big vibrating dildo on her.

“I’ll be with you forever, Mrs. Rich.” Eyes sparkling, her voice full of promise right after Spoon came from being whipped.

“I’ve been good, Mrs Rich. Diamond hasn’t ever made me cum. Not for real. Not like you do.” With a hint of disgust, then of worship as Mommy was buried between her thighs. She looked at me when she said it. There was a smile. Then she came, and I watched.

All of it hurt. All of it burned. One thing was said over, and over again. One thing that rung in my mind clear as a bell, sweet as a bee’s honey, and as poisonous as acid. It was said when she was tired, still quivering. It was said when her mouth was full of Mommy. It was said when she was whipped, and it was said after every long, slow scream.

It was low, it was promising, and it was said with all her heart. “I love you, Mrs. Rich.”

I stared, empty and broken. When Mommy finally untied me, letting me stumble to my feet, it had been a full night and a day. I knew that Mommy had won. It was well after dinner. I took my bath alone, rubbing my chaffed limbs, almost burned from the rope. My mane was not braided, and I lay in bed hungry.

I didn’t sleep at all. I just thought about everything. I remembered everything they said, and everything they did. I extrapolated it to every night. The only special thing had been my presence. Everything else was the same thing that Spoon did every night.

“I love you, Mrs. Rich.” Those words, and that sweet silver voice echoed in my head.

Just after midnight, I heard Spoon’s screams, echoing hauntingly through the mansion. It had been a long time since her howling had kept me awake, but that night it did. They didn’t sleep either.

The day after, Spoon tried to apologize. She begged me to take her, to save her, to whisk her away. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t talk to her. I needed her to go away. All I could think of was those words.

“I love you, Mrs. Rich.”

So I got her to go away. “I hate you, and I’m never doing anything for you, ever again. You disgust me.”

Her voice was weak, trembling with emotion she didn’t deserve and I didn’t feel. “I… I love you, DT.”

“Just like you love Spoiled? Get the fuck away from me, you fucking insect. Never talk to me again. I never want to see you again. Goodbye, Spoony.”

With that, she left. She stumbled away with tears in her eyes and she never came back. My heart was broken. It still beat for her, but every pump burned, tearing little bits of my soul as the boiling blood would rush back in. I still loved her, but I was hurt. I was hurt in a way that might never get better. If I could have forgotten those words, or maybe not thought about them then I might not have said “never.” Maybe… everything would have been different.

They found her two days later. She’d jumped off a bridge. No note, no given reason. I didn’t need a note. I’d seen it in her eyes when she walked away. I’d killed her. She’d died in that moment, that last moment when I told her to never talk to me again. I crushed what was left of her soul, what little bit Mommy hadn’t swallowed up and spat out over and over again. That’s when I killed the only pony I’d ever love.

The funeral was surreal. I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anything at all. I looked around, noting all the stallions and wondering which ones had fucked her. I’d guess all of them. Probably most of the mares, too. They didn’t even know. The Celestial priest? I’d seen him show up through my window in a bad disguise. Her father? Check. My father? Check. The Cakes? Check. Which one was unknowingly mourning his unborn foal? Maybe her father lost two children that day. None of them knew her secret identity but me, Spoiled, and Filthy. Out of us, I was the only one that knew that she hadn’t died alone, and why she was truly dead.

Not one of the 3 of us shed a tear. I suppose being emotionally unbalanced runs in the family.

That night, I still felt nothing. I don’t know why, but I snuck into Mommy’s room and waited. I watched while she drank a bottle. Then another. I stayed quiet, not knowing what I was doing or why I was there. Eventually, she passed out, still holding the third bottle of booze. I crawled over her, and looked at her face. She’d been crying.

She didn’t deserve to cry. I wanted to cry, but couldn’t. Mommy deserved it the least of anypony. I grabbed the bottle, and poured the rest of it down her throat. She squirmed, trying to drunkenly turn her head, but I held it in place. She stopped drinking, but there was still booze in the bottle. I pressed on her chest, and she gurgled, her body literally inhaling the alcohol. I watched her squirm, and then she was still.

“Have fun with Spoony, Mrs. Rich… She’s going to need some company.” I whispered to her corpse with a gleeful smile.

I pretended to cry at that funeral. It was easy. I can always pretend to cry. The only time I can’t is when I actually need to.

After that, I threw myself into my work. I already owned a small chunk of Manehattan, why not the rest? What the fuck else was I going to do? I dropped out of school, one year left. There was no island for me. No rest in sight. That was okay. I worked. I worked until it was all I could think of.

I promised myself that I’d always, always get what I wanted. I agonized over it in excruciating detail, and always came out on top. Everybody bowed to me, and I owned the world itself. I owned everything, taking anything I could ever want from anypony dumb enough to get in my way. There was only one thing that I could never have. One thing that had been taken from me, back when I still had a heart.

But now? Now the only thing I want is to stop thinking. About anything at all.