Mistress Massage

“Slave to the sirens...”

Applejack had no thoughts, no memories. She did not feel the gag in her mouth, or the leather straps binding her limbs.

“Serve the sirens…”

“Slave to the sirens...”

“Worship the sirens...”

How long had she been tied down? Minutes or days. Not important. Obeying was important. Submitting utterly to the words, letting them change her into something else. Not just a hypnotized flunky, but a willing and total slave.

A constant influx of knowledge entered and vanished from memory with every second passed. Words… and the tickling itch of a stiff feather brushing across her naked abs. Back and forth, with Mistress Sonata’s voice cutting in past the headphones.

“I hope you don’t think a little brainwashing will get you out of being my torture pet.” Sonata laughed cruelly. “Oh, wait – you can’t think at all! Duh. But I know you can feel my little feather. We’re gonna keep this up all night. When I get bored I’ll hand it to Sunset or one of your other friends.”

For her part, Sunset was watering the plants. Rarity was fitting the other sirens for the new robes they had her make, and Fluttershy was tidying the break room.

Sunset knew Applejack was being brainwashed, and that was fine. The Rainbooms did wrong in stealing the sirens’ powers, and this was how they made it right. Serve the sirens. Slave to the sirens.

Her phone buzzed, showing a text from Twilight Sparkle. ‘Hi, Sunset! You busy?’

A slave she might be, but Twilight was still her friend. Mistress Adagio made it very clear to Sunset that she must tell no one else, and to live a normal life when outside the spa to throw off suspicion. Sunset had gone biking with Rainbow yesterday, and helped AJ at the farm the day before.

Still, Sunset was busy, and the sirens had no interest in ‘Human Twilight.’

‘I’m at my massage appointment. What’s up?’

‘When you get a chance, I have a new invention I’d like you to help test.’

Another text followed. ‘NOTHING DANGEROUS THIS TIME! I promise :)’

Sunset had long since reconciled with the fact that being friends with a mad scientist meant occasional experiments and explosions. A hero by nature and a bit of a scientist herself, Sunset always volunteered to participate both to shield their other friends and serve as a safety brake when ‘mad’ outweighed ‘scientist.’

No reason to stop. ‘Sure thing, but I’m jam-packed for a while. Maybe next weekend?’

Adagio watched the last Rainboom silently from the doorway, taking a moment to reflect on how their plans amusingly succeeded in a way they hadn’t… well, planned. Sunset had dispensed free coupons as ordered, but two had to be trapped in other ways and two more came before she even started. Pinkie Pie was the first to be lured in the way they had intended, and she would be the last.

It was a moment to be savored. The trusting, innocent idiot laid face-down on the massage table, utterly nude as Adagio had asked. No shyness with panties or towels. The siren let her gaze trace along the girl’s butt, leering silently with anticipation. Pinkie was skinny like the rest of them, but her buns were wide and soft. Maybe that’s where she put all the candy, the lucky girl.

Adagio licked her lips as she lit the incense. They went for the hard targets first, not last. This was a victory lap.

“Are you ready, Miss Pinkie?”

The girl squealed excitedly and kicked her feet up. “Yes Ma’am, Mistress Adagio, Ma’am!”

“Good. We’ll start at the shoulders, then go–”

“Although are you sure your name isn’t Massage?” Pinkie kept talking, her squeaky voice breaking the serenity around them. “I just figure since your name’s Adagio and you call yourself mistress then it’d be ‘Mistress Adagio and Oils.’”

Adagio reached for Pinkie’s shoulders. “Don’t worry about that. Just clear your mind and re–”

She made firm contact where the neck met the body. Instead of melting into the touch, Pinkie giggled and shrugged against the move.

“Sorry, sorry,” she squeaked, giggling a little more. “I’m ticklish. Try again.”

Unseen, Adagio gave an eye-roll before reaching once more. “As I was saying, try to re–”

“EEEK!” Pinkie screeched, laughing both at the new touch and apparently the comedy of it all. “Hee hee, sorry. Maybe again?”

“Why don’t I start with your back,” Adagio said, using every century of learned patience to retain her calm. Inside, she kicked herself. It never actually goes to plan, does it?

Focusing, she kept away from Pinkie’s inevitably-ticklish sides to work the small of her back. This at the very least she could rub without the girl squirming. Adagio released a relieved sigh when the first low hum of contentment fled Pinkie’s lips.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Adagio asked with honeyed voice.

“Yep,” Pinkie replied.

Adagio smiled. Progress.

Something brushed her shoulder. She turned to see a pink foot – Pinkie had bent her knees and was idly swaying her legs upright.

Adagio kept at work. Maybe they would go down as the girl relaxed.

A few minutes later, they hadn’t. And Pinkie opened her mouth. “I guess massage needs to be in the name so people don’t think you just sell oils so they come for baking and car needs, which now that I think about it is a good idea for a store because most people bake and drive so a store like that would get great business you could change their oil while they shopped for cooking supplies but you’d reeeeeealy have to keep your oils separate so you don’t put vegetable oil in someone’s engine and machine oil in a cake it would come out black and ruin the taste although dark cakes are really good they just take some effort you need to use the right kind of chocolate and you don’t need customized color most times because you...”

“Spas are a place for relaxation,” Adagio said lowly, fighting down a twitch in her eye. “Try to be quiet and relax.”

“Oh, okay,” Pinkie said.

Silence. Adagio stayed on the back for another moment then began rubbing the glutes.

Pinkie’s butt rammed up at the first touch as the girl exploded in a fit of giggles. “Sorry! I’ve always been ticklish back there. I found that out when I was a wee little Pinkie, my sister Maud and I had some oatmeal and we...”

Thirty minutes.

Thirty minutes wasted.

Pinkie laid upright, humming happily to herself with a washcloth over her face. The oils and drugs didn’t matter one whit – so long as she stayed alert, Pinkie wouldn’t be affected any more than Adagio. Their work was subtle. They needed her relaxed and suggestible, not perky and distracted.

Adagio had stepped away to text frantically for ideas, selling the pause as ‘part of the treatment.’

Her brainless sisters suggested the obvious: kidnap and break her like Applejack. Adagio hesitated. That was not at all the sirens’ specialty, and was hardly guaranteed to work. Besides, she had pride. The sirens were virtuosos of song and manipulation, not brute slavers. She could handle a girl who just would not relax and had six square centimeters on her body that weren’t ticklish.

Adagio needed inspiration. To change her approach. What did she know about this girl? Stupid, energetic, cheerful. She liked music, dancing, candy…

...Bingo.

A last text was followed by a knock at the door. Sonata walked in, carrying a small bowl of wrapped red sweets and an insufferably smug expression at being called to help.

Adagio strode over to the prone girl and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Miss Pinkie? I was wondering if you could help us with something. Can you take off the cloth?”

Pinkie obeyed, pulling it down to see Adagio smiling serenely above her. “Miss Sunset said you know a great deal about candy and confections. We at Mistress Massage pride ourselves in catering to all senses, and blending them with delight. Until now this has excluded taste, but we are...”

She hesitated, wincing. Good thing this girl was dumb. “We are experimenting with an idea for a massage where you sit on the couch and have sweets while we work. The idea is the senses will enhance each other, much like taste and smell. Would you be willing to let us try?”

Pinkie grinned and hauled herself upright. “You had me at sweets! Let’s go, Adagio.”

She gasped sharply. “That rhymes! Let’s go, Adagio, Whoa-whoa, don’cha know~”

Still butt-naked, Pinkie prattled on as they escorted her to the couch, then sat lengthwise upright against the arm. Sonata knelt on the floor by her side, at least breaking her song with a stammer.

“Huh? No, I can just hold the bowl on my belly.”

“Now, now,” Adagio tutted, gliding to a seat then slipping in so Pinkie’s feet went on her lap. “We are here to serve you.”

She laid her hand upon a leg and gave it a comforting squeeze. Pinkie giggled a little, more from confusion than a tickle. At Adagio’s prompt she took a candy from the bowl and ate it.

To Pinkie, it was delicious. A tart fruit like cherry or pomegranate, sweetened for a more mellow taste. It dissolved rapidly in her mouth, and even when she swallowed she felt a thin layer remain on the inside. Not unpleasant, as it let the taste linger.

A less-forgotten recipe than most the sirens used. Opium candy used to be quite popular in the right places. Normally it was too sedating for their work, but for this girl it was just what the hypnotist ordered.

Adagio picked up a leg and ran her hand firmly beneath it. She began speaking quickly, seizing the brief interruption. “This will be a lighter massage, a more ‘casual’ one as though between friends. It was developed in the southern part of what is now India, back in the days of the Mughal Empire by monks who wished to...”

It gave Adagio a tiny bit of satisfaction to turn the tables and become the one who would not shut up. She spoke on and on, low and boring about ancient customs and histories. Too nice to interrupt, Pinkie waited quietly. Adagio’s drone lulled her to boredom, but it… did feel good.

Finally tamed from her hyperactivity, Pinkie began to notice things. The oil on her back and legs where Adagio had rubbed felt warm and soothing, and her own thoughts were growing fuzzy. Not in a bad way. Pinkie accepted another candy, content to be along for the ride.

Another.

Another.

Her thoughts became very fuzzy. Pinkie squinted hard, trying to rally them. Her mouth worked a moment before she remembered how to speak.

“Wait… something’s wrong, I don’t think–”

Sonata pushed a candy into her mouth. As it dissolved, Pinkie forgot what she was trying to say.

“Relax,” Sonata whispered in her ear.

Adagio’s own treat was the girl finally shutting up, and her delicious transformation. Her bright eyes now stared out, half-closed, and her mouth hung slack.

Adagio brought her hands from the safe legs to the feet – a truer test. The last time she touched them Pinkie kicked her in laughter.

Cute, pink soles. A little more pale than her skin, a little fatter than her slim build would have you guess. Same for her ass and breasts.

Adagio pushed in her thumbs, firm and untickling. Last time it didn’t matter.

Now there was no reaction. Adagio squeezed her thumbs slowly downwards, and reaction came. A jagged, slow breath out as tension left Pinkie’s body.

The sirens grinned.

“Relax,” Adagio said.

“Drop,” Sonata said.

“Relax.”

“Drop.”

“Relax...”

On, on. Adagio’s firm, practiced fingers moved all over Pinkie’s feet, rubbing out every bit of strength and more. Layer after layer of oils shined in the folds and joints, making her ever more relaxed and vulnerable as the sensations looped and fed each other.

Sonata popped in a last treat, and held her fingers in Pinkie’s mouth as it dissolved. She stroked at the tongue, and twirled it slowly around her finger. The lips never fully closed, and drool leaked out as she withdrew.

The beginning of a word formed from inside Pinkie. “Wh...”

“Relax.”

“Drop.”

“Relax.”

“Drop...”

Nothing more came.

Sonata wiped her finger on the couch and pulled a pink gem on a bronze string from the folds of her robe. She stood behind Pinkie’s head.

“You feel good,” Adagio said lowly. “So relaxed and happy and good. This is what a massage is. This is what Mistress Adagio does to you. Relax… drop...”

“...Obey.”

Sonata let the gem dangle before Pinkie’s eyes.

Adagio pushed into her soles, drawing a little gasp. “Watch the pretty gem… watch very carefully. Count the faces, then start over. Too relaxed, but try counting them. Every one you count makes you sleepier. One… two… three… start over. Count them as I speak to you, as you get very, very sleepy...”

The sirens gathered on the couch, giggling and pointing at the pink idiot on the floor. She stared up to them from her knees and masturbated, chanting her mantra. “Submit, worship, obey… submit, worship, obey...”

“I like her nipples,” Aria said. “All fat and pink. Let’s have her pierce them after one of the sessions. You know, as a test, like how Sonata made the big one shave.”

“There might not be time,” Adagio declared. “We had to go slow with Sunset so her friends wouldn’t get suspicious. But now we have her friends. We can make the others take turns giving excuses. I want her and little miss Dashie to come in daily until we get them deep enough to brainwash.”

“I thought you were the patient one?” Sonata jeered.

Adagio narrowed her eyes, looking to the wall past Pinkie. “We’ve been patient. And it’s paid off. And we’ll keep being patient. They’re not going in the back room until they’re ready.”

Her smile grew, sharp like a knife. “We’re finally in a position to accelerate things, that’s all.”

“At least until the moon or whatever lets our future purple pony gimp-cess over to play.” Sonata cracked her knuckles. “Soooo orgy before we get her, or after?”

“My dear, stupid sister,” Adagio tsked. Aria laughed and Sonata scowled, though all grinned at the next words.

“Why not both?”