Anything in Return

“Wow Candy, you really did a number on her!” Lavender murmured with a sort of hushed reverence as she appreciated the steadily developing bruises that marred Fiddle’s ass and thighs.

It was anypony’s guess what they looked like right now — she had been denied a mirror with which to apprise the no doubt sore state of her backside. Despite that she could certainly feel the fruits of Candy’s labor. It was a nightmare just getting herself back onto the bed and she was eternally grateful for the company that joined her.

Behind her was Candy Apple, one foreleg draped over her chest as she buried her muzzle into Fiddle’s mane. In front of her was her sister who was laying down and facing towards her, a dopey smile on her face. Fiddlesticks couldn’t even begin to imagine the sort of plan Fritter had concocted in her absence.

Lavender Fritter, who was Apple Fritter's wife, sat in a nearby armchair. Fiddlesticks had drawn her sister's name from the hat next and apparently that meant including Lavender in their fun as well.

“Thanks! Fiddly is such a willing canvas. She makes me feel like a regular Canterlot artist whenever I get my hooves on her.” Candy responded, the gentle tone of her voice devoid of any of the venom or vitriol that was present only a short while ago.

It was these moments that Fiddlesticks lived for; the brief calm in a life frequently devoid of it. Right now, nothing existed beyond the walls of this room. She allowed herself, however fleetingly, to bask in the tender affection she was receiving. Her mind drifted naturally to the rest of the night. The Apple family was nothing if not inventive in their preferred methods of tormenting her.

She rolled onto her back, grimacing at the dull roar of pain that came from her bruised ass. Pushing herself up in bed, she turned to face Apple Fritter.

“I think I’m ready, sis.”