Chapters Chapter 1 - The Lost Seek Freedom
One thought occurred to Black Lace as she stepped out of the taxi cab onto the slate grey sidewalk. Manehatten was big. No, scratch that, Manehatten was huge. Totally massive. Enormous, even. All the adjectives the white unicorn knew relating to great size applied to the north eastern city.
The second thought that occurred to her was that, in relation to the towering canyons of steel and glass that surrounded her for mile upon mile in all directions, she was very, very small. Connecting the dots meant the realisation that Manehatten was nothing like Whinnyapolis.
Black Lace suddenly missed her home. As ponies of all tribes, not to mention zebras and griffons, walked past her without sparing her a second look, Black Lace painfully missed her home. Her little town. She noted it wasn’t even unusual that she was wearing a dress. The pedestrians around her were dressed in all manner of clothing.
Granted, not many of them were wearing a black bridle – no bit though - a black high cut dress, the angle sliced to purposefully reveal her cutie mark of two red socks in the shape of a heart, her best pair of red stockings and a breast teddy that nicely amplified what little she had going on down there. Still, she wasn’t spared more than a fleeting glance.
She took a moment to get her bearings, shielding her dark blue eyes from the glare of the morning summer sun with a forehoof. The shear unfamiliarity with her new surroundings gave her pause for thought. Having hailed the cab from outside the hotel she was staying at, requesting of the driver to take her to the best coffee shop in town.
The unicorn supposed that was why she was looking at “Stripe’s Cup of Java”.
“Huh,” she muttered to herself as she approached the shop. “It doesn’t look like anything special.” A glance upwards made her jaw drop. “Surely all that can’t be the coffee shop, can it?” The skyscraper that loomed above her was B – I – G. “No way, right?” determined to find out, she walked in through the doors. Immediately, she was confronted by a wave of mixed scents. Cinnamon, apple, pastry, chocolate and, naturally, coffee, all assailed the unicorn’s nose.
The smells made her stop. Her eyes wide, head on a swivel, she took in the scene. It was like something from a fifties style TV show. The diner was recreated almost perfectly, from the pale blue wooden walls to the black and white chequerboard floor to the bright red booth seats. There were a few patrons further in, and closer to the entrance was a sky blue pegasus mare chatting away animatedly to a chocolate brown earth mare.
What caught her eye after that, was a large, very well built orange zebra stallion who was busy tending the counter. He was huge. Like everything else in this place, apparently. Mentally, she made a reminder to look up more adjectives for ‘big’. She was getting bored of ‘huge’.
“ Well, I will have to say that Omega is doing a lot better now a...” the blue pegasus didn’t get to finish what she was saying to her friend at the table. She had just caught sight of the newcomer to the shop, and as her jaw dropped open, her thoughts took a nosedive.
“Now a?” questioned the earth pony, before she looked to where her friend was staring. She got an explanation for the slack jawed attitude. “You titty mare!” she playfully admonished the heavily blushing pegasus for staring at the unicorn’s teddy amplified breasts.
Black Lace always considered herself to be an average sized pony, with her long slender legs, but she still had to look upwards when she approached the counter. “Heya!” her out of town accent drew the gaze of everypony who wasn’t already staring at her outfit. “I'm new in town for a bit, can I get a coffee, and a list of cool Manehatten things to do?”
Caffeinated’s green eyes twinkled with mischief as he watched the mare step up. He did so like new blood. Always the most fun to play with. “Greetings young mare, you travel without care. Coffee and sweets I've got. Be it a little or a lot. That rack near the door will lead you to destinations galore.”
Airmail broke out in a fit of laughter and beside her, Lavender made the best use out of her patented eyeroll #2. “Haaa!” Black Lace threw back her head and laughed out loud. “You guys really do the rhyming stuff! That's so cool.” She shifted a little as she spoke and her high cut dress moved along with her, displaying her cutie mark to the store. “I'm here for the fashion expo next week. For now, can I get a coffee and um...a caramel donut please?”
Caffienated knew he shouldn’t. He knew it was teasing for the sake of it. That didn’t stop him though. “Will that be my coffee black, or would there be something it lack?”
“Fresh blood for his zebra voodoo,” commented Airmail after she had gained control of her giggle-fit.
“Yeah,” agreed Lavender, who hadn’t taken her eyes off of the unicorn, “but it is cute fresh blood.”
“Sorry, just with milk, please. I'm sweet enough, so no sugar,” Black Lace added with a wink, “Sugar.” After she had made the correction to her order, the unicorn looked over to the two mares. They were looking at her. And had amused looks on their faces. Naturally, she was curious. So, she sashayed over with a graceful high step walk to their table. “Heya. Can I join you two?”
“Come on and sit with us, new girl,” Lavender was the first to make the offer, “Stripes will deliver.”
That caused Airmail to whisper, rather noisily, “What are you doing?”
In reply, Lavender whispered back, “Want to see how she eats that donut?” the way her winged friend blushed told the earth pony all she needed to hear.
“They are mares most sublime,” added Caffienated, who was thoroughly loving his little fun and games. “I'll have this to you in little time.”
“Awesome, thanks dude!” Black Lace sauntered over the rest of the way to the table, and she hopped up in a most fluid fashion onto the seat, making important things jiggle on the way up. “I'm Black Lace, good to meet ya both,” she giggled, “can ya believe zebras actually rhyme? That's so wild!”
“Yeah,” Lavender raised her voice to the serving counter, “Caffy, refills please!”
“Two fudge brownies too!” added Airmail after a second’s thought.
“Sure thing, Lavender,” the orange zebra then waved a hoof at the pegasus. “Okay Airy!” he at last forewent the rhymes his kind was so well known for. Even he could only keep it up for so long.
“So, I'm Lavendar, and that one is Airmail,” the chocolate earth pony made the introductions, waving a hoof between themselves with each other’s names. “We work in the offices upstairs.”
“Aw,” Black Lace made a pouty face at the loss of the rhymes. She had been enjoying those. “And I liked the rhyming, too.” she offered to bump hooves in greeting, the gesture swiftly accepted. “Black Lace. Wait. I said that already.” she giggled and looked around the shop and noticed the elevator with a sign saying ‘Manehatten Times’ on it. “You work at the newspaper place? Sweet. I got a boutique back in Whinnyapolis. ‘Lace With Grace’.”
“Politics,” clarified Airmail, “but I could refer you to advertising.”
Lavender made with a bright little laugh, “You’re a part of that thing brought on by the Celestia Six member, Rarity?”
“I do like your outfit,” Airmail openly looked over the unicorn’s attire now it was up close. She had zero clue when it came to fashion, unless it was to do with stripping panties off of her wife and her herd-mates. Even she could tell what she wore was quality. “It would look good on my wife. And on my bedroom floor.”
“Yeah,” Lavender snarked, “I don't think my husband could pull it off, though.”
“Yuhuh! I'm here for the fashion expo next week. If I'm a super good filly and the stars align and the wind’s in the right direction, I might even get to meet her! I mean, spin my horseshoes, can you imagine meeting 'the' Rarity?” she snickered at the absurdity of it, “And ma'am, you'd be surprised. I made a dress for a stallion back home last month. Dolled him up mighty nice.”
“I don't know if Shoe has been to Whinnyapolis,” pondered Airmail playfully.
“Maybe it was Dusky?” asked Lavender, and the two herd-mates shared a laugh with each other. “I've never met Rarity. Heard she’s nice though.”
“I've only seen her from a distance, and we didn't talk,” commented Airmail, before asking, “You've met up with Coco?”
Just as the unicorn was about to answer, Caffienated made his brownie, donut and coffee delivery. “For you, Black Lace, I must save face. Some know not the power of rhyme, so those I give not the time.” He smirked as he set down the things on the table.
“Okay,” Airmail shot to the zebra, “where does that leave Thespy?”
“Leave the fairest mare in all the land? May the goddess have me breathe moon sand.”
Black Lace looked a little blank at the in joke between the three, then to Lavender she said, “Coco? As in, Coco Pommel? No ma'am. I'm hoping to meet her too at the expo, that'd be so cool. Talk a little shop, try and whore out the stuff I make - in a fashion sense, I mean - get a name for myself. For now, this week, I wanna see the big city.” She then took her donut up in her magic and gave it a long lick, and she stuck her tongue right in the hole and wiggled it around.
Silently, Airmail fell off her seating pad like she’d had a heart attack and reached up to slap a golden bit coin in Lavender's waiting hoof. “She thought that was only a Canterlot eating style.”
Black Lace looked to both Airmail and Lavender, the donut still on her face, her nose supporting the hole. She lowered it slow. “What did I do? Sorry, I'm kind of a messy eater. So, uh, what and where are the places to see and go to? I don't mean brochure tourist trap stuff. I mean the real stuff, like what you do.”
After taking a mouthful of her coffee, Airmail snorted, “I type words.”
Lavender offered the new mare a kind smile, “I answer the phones. Still. There’s Central Park. Great vendors, there is a splash fountain. Band shell. People watching. Most of my herd is in theatre. A lot of great shows to see at night.” Lavender and Airmail both looked at each other and said together, “MiAC!”
Laughing, Airmail added, “They have one of those in Whinnytown? The beach here is nice. Good vendors there too, and some salt water to get in all your fur.”
“The MiAC in Whinnyapolis is pretty cool,” nodded Black Lace quickly. “Ya know, Central Park sounds fun. Between us mares, I have a side quest while I’m here, speaking of the MiAC. See I'm hoping to get me a hunky dude to put a collar with this bridle.”
Back home, a comment like that would have scandalised half the room. Here it got no special reaction.
“Well, certainly none in the herd,” said Airmail with a hoof to her chin in thought.
“There is Text,” thought Lavender out loud, “but he is thirteen.”
“He does like the fillies,” pointed out Airmail, to which Lavender shot her a look half way between amused and outraged. “My night life is a club on Stallion Island, but it’s the thirty-five plus pony crowd.”
“My night life is hoping Jasmine will let me rest.”
“Rest?” Airmail gave Lavender an incredulous look, “I have three, three-year-old fillies in the house! What is this ‘rest’ you speak of?”
“There is always Trixie’s Place,” opined Lavender.
“True,” agreed Airmail, nodding her head, “but you’ll never know if you'll find a free one and I doubt you'd want to pay for a one-night adventure.”
“I don't wanna pay for it!” protested Black Lace, “I ain't that desperate, not yet. And ma'am, thirty five is young! Have you seen Whinnyapolis? Crusty oldster ponies are the norm. Yawn, and no thanks, ya know?”
Unable to resist a tease, Lavender smiled, “Did you just call my friend old and crusty?”
“Old stallions are crusty,” Black Lace amended her statement without missing a beat, “Old mares are cool.” She then gave her donut a long lick and nibbles at a good part of it. “I'm hoping out here there'll be a stallion, or cock or drake even, I'm not fussy, as long as they're hunky, a hottie and they know how to tame a spunky mare. Pa's words. Not mine.”
“Could let Mapper loose on her?” snickered Airmail, “She would know where to go.”
“Hm,” agreed Lavender thoughtfully, “And Mapper would drag them over to the house on Thursday.”
Airmail laughed out loud at that, “Well that fashion expo show doesn't start till gaming night. She could come.”
“I thought you didn't do entertainment?” questioned Lavender with a raised eyebrow.
“Thespian.” Stated Airmail, in a way that said nothing more needed to be said on the matter. Instead, both mares simply raised their mugs and drank deeply.
“Who is Mapper?” questioned Black Lace, “And why would she drag me anywhere?” she lifted up her coffee in her magical aura and took a long sip, “But hey, if she knows of a kinky hottie hideout, I'm game.”
Instead of answering the question put to them by the unicorn, Lavender asked, “Maybe you've heard of the opera singer, Serenity?”
“Pfft, who hasn't heard of Serenity?” Black Lace looked genuinely incredulous, like each of the mares had grown an extra head. “A few years back I remember she appeared at the Old Opera House back home. Ma and Pa dragged me along to go see her sing. What a night! The opera was dull as all heck, but I’ll never forget the dresses she wore! Spank my flanks! It got me wanting to make my own!”
“She is Mapper's wife,” explained Airmail.
“Mapper is the mistress of our BDSM group,” put in Lavender.
Airmail added further, “Stripes over there is the alpha stallion of our herd.”
“HIs wife, Thespian, is the alpha mare.”
“And Mapps is partial to lost fillies,” giggled Airmail as she drained the last of her coffee, savouring every last drop.
“Too bad she’s looking for a stallion,” quipped Lavender as she too saw off her drink, “but I'm sure she could help.”
“Thespian?” though she had heard the name mentioned before by the two mares, at last the big golden bit began to drop. “As in, The Best Little Whorehouse in Canterlot, Thespian, who totally rocked the red outfit with the hat? Oh wowsers! And I'm not 'lost' or anything, I mean yeah, I'm kinda new to the whole bondage scene do, but I dance though, back home. At the Bridle Path Gentlecolt club, on weekends.”
“Can't say I've ever heard of that,” Lavender spoke more to herself than anypony at the table, “but I'm born and raised here. Dancing is up Belle's alley.”
“Too bad Darkie went off to Zebrica,” Airmail mused, “Our name dropping does seem to be having an effect,” she shared a laugh with her friend, “you’d like a dominant male, any species?”
“Since we're sharing, I guess,” Black Lace blushed so that a faint crimson came to her pure white cheeks, “I've always thought, a griffon, would be cool. And hot. To collar and leash me like I was his prey animal. To be claimed and dominated and ooooh!” she shifted on the seating pad, “Sorry.”
“A griffon, huh?” Airmail snorted derisively, “Their rations still taste like shit,” Lavender giggled at that as she watched Airmail pull out her phone. “Hi Mapps, we found a little lost filly in Caffy’s place.” There was a brief pause while the pony on the other end said something. A greeting most likely. “She walked in and made love to a donut.” A second pause, and Black Lace could hear laughter. “Yeah, it was sexy. She's looking for a male dom, and she would prefer beak and claws.” A longer pause occurred this time. “Yeah, Moony did put on a good show.” During the fourth pause, Airmail looked at Black Lace like she was assessing her. “She says be here Wednesday at seven in the evening. You're on your own till then. What do I tell her?”
“Tell her I'll be here Wednesday at seven sharp, ma'am, thank you, ma'am!” replied the stunned unicorn, who couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. “Oh wow, like 'dial a dom delivery service!” she giggled in an obvious, nervous young filly kind of way. “I’m rambling. Sorry.”
Lavender could well understand what the unicorn was feeling. They had after all, sprung a rather big thing on her out of nowhere. She put a hoof to her chin, in thought. “How to put this. Mapper is no nonsense, but she loves nonsense.”
To that, Airmail snorted. “She is part of my mini herd, and she was the first one before we were a herd. Don't be wishy washy and you'll do fine.”
“If you decide to change teams, she will play with you. But don't do that for her,” cautioned the earth pony, “as she won't keep you.”
“Don't worry, ma'am. I don't slam clams, as my grandma said. Once. When she was drunk. I can so do serious. I'll just get my business head on.” Black Lace blushed again, adorably impersonating a ripe tomato. “You guys must think I'm such a filly, I just ramble a bit, when I get nervous. Like now. And my mouth disobeys my brain, and... I’m doing it again.”
“Did you know Serenity is off this Wednesday?” asked Lavender, out of the blue.
“Wha of it...oh…” Airmail sighed, well aware of her herd-mate’s more extreme proclivities. “I had hoped the trips to Canterlot would be enough for her, but yeah…”
Lavender, wisely perhaps, chose not to go into further detail on that matter. The young mare opposite them didn’t need to know how often Serenity needed to visit with Mistress Moonbeams in Canterlot. That was herd mini herd business. “It's not as bad though, right?” she asked tentatively.
“Yeah, they haven't needed medical help, not for a long time anyway. Do you think that one is up to extreme?” asked Airmail, to which Lavender simply shrugged.
“ I can do extreme!” squeaked Black Lace, who didn’t want to be left out of the conversation. “I can, see, this one time, I tied myself up in my room above the boutique, and I used a blindfold and even a gag! And...and I spanked myself too, like really hard, with a belt, with studs in! You could see pink on my butt and everything! It was so cool!” her black tail swished at the memory.
All of a sudden, Airmail started laughing and she pointed a forehoof at Lavender, who flushed and looked away. “Whatever, I was her age when I did that!” however, a laughing Airmail was laying on the floor catching her breath, making her friend colour up even more. “Good thing I did it in Caffy's house. Topper had to work that night and... oh, whatever.”
“What...” Black Lace looked from Airmail to Lavender. “Isn't that extreme enough? I mean, it felt pretty extreme when I came buckets. It was a big gag too, my jaw ached for ages! Or, oh! Or, I strip when I pole dance. The stallions all think that's pretty extreme.”
“Keep thinking that. Let's get back to work Lav. I want to get off on time. Wily gets all pouty if there is no call for her.” Both of the older mares got up and spared the unicorn a smile and a friendly nuzzle of goodbye. “Omega should be back by three. Take care Black Lace.”
~ ~ ~
Wednesday came at the same time too quickly and too slowly for Black Lace’s liking. Tuesday, she had spent visiting the Statue of Harmony, the huge earth pony mare holding the Statutes of Harmony in one hoof and the Torch of Friendship in the other. That had been awesome.
All day that Wednesday, the unicorn had spent at the Victorian Gardens fairground. Several rollercoasters, a big dipper, a big wheel and the carny games, as well as the many vendors dotted around had all conspired to make her a good deal of bits lighter.
She reflected on that as she sat in Stripe’s Cup of Java that evening. A slight curse left her lips due to it still being hot and humid even at that time of day, and a thanks to the alicorn of air conditioning. She checked herself over as she waited.
A pale blue bridle with gold effect accents adorned her head, the ring of which sat at the base of her horn. Matching stockings, corset and dress completed her look. At least it made her think cool thoughts, a ward against the incessant summer. She was pleased, at seven exactly, to see a very pink unicorn walk into the coffee shop.
There was absolutely no doubt in Black Lace’s mind that this was the mare she had been waiting for. She just had a certain, dominant, air about her bearing. Like she expected everypony in her vicinity to bow to her just because it was her Celestia-given right. That, and the fact that Serenity followed her in just a couple of steps behind. Both of them were wearing what she recognised instantly as Coco Pommel's original dresses from the spring line.
To her blush, Black Lace also saw that Serenity’s look was also complete with a bridle plus panties. Panties designed to show off her plot than cover it up. She was so busy processing the fact that the world famous opera singer was
For its part, the quarter eaten caramel donut and the lukewarm white coffee had no opinion to share on the matter.
“Leaf, my usual,” Mapper said loudly in just the kind of dominant tone of voice that the younger unicorn expected to hear. She wasn’t disappointed. “Pet has been well behaved so she can have a Celestia special, too. A refill and another donut for this fine mare. Plus, two fudge brownies for us.” Without hesitating or asking, the pink mare sat herself imperiously across from Black Lace and Serenity sat next to her.
“Heya!” Black Lace held out a forehoof after a couple of seconds of awkward silence between the three of them. “I'm Black Lace. Ms Airmail and Ms Lavender said you'd be here at seven.”
Mapper’s cool gaze betrayed nothing. Quietly she surveyed the young white unicorn seated before her and communicated with her wife via the link they shared. She liked the first impressions she received. “Did they lie?”
“Totally not, Mistress. I’m just glad you showed and on time, too. I hate no shows, ya know?”
Impassively, Mapper turned her attention audibly now to her wife. “Serenity.”
“She is very nervous about you,” Serenity spoke in her melodic, musical voice. A voice that could sell snow to a yak. “Skittish what you might do. She has no fear though. interesting. She will do.” She completed her verbal assessment as Leaf delivered two Celestia specials and two brownies on one plate, as well as a creamy coffee and caramel donut to Black Lace.
“Truth,” the younger of the unicorns admitted, seeing to reason to lie or to hide anything from these two, “I'm nervous about a lot of things, Mistress. Top of the list right now is being sat this close to ‘the’ Serenity! Spin my tail, your dresses are amazing! But I'm a professional, no babbling.”
Liking what she heard from Serenity, and silently agreeing that if the young unicorn wasn’t nervous there would be something very wrong, Mapper pointed to her and her ensemble with a hoof. “Your design and make?”
“Yes Mistress, ma'am!” Black Lace visibly preened with pride, almost glowing from the notice. “Got a whole case of 'em to wear for the expo.”
Mapper nodded thoughtfully. She was no fashion expert by any means, but she’d bought enough things from Coco over the years to recognise skill when she saw it. Hoof-stitched skill too, no less, if her eye was any guess. “Airy told me you made love to a donut. I wonder if she can do better than middle pet?” beside her, Serenity said nothing, but her gaze was attentive and focused.
Blinking wide eyed for just a second, Black Lace’s brain quickly caught up. “Oh, you mean this?” she lit her horn and levitated up her donut and licked all around the hole, sliding her tongue inside and all through it, swirling it around in an obviously overtly lewd manner.
Serenity just nodded her head. “Middle pet could teach her,” she said eventually, like her Mistress she was satisfied with what she saw from the younger unicorn.
Mapper had seen enough, enough to know this young mare would do nicely. No undue fear, a healthy amount of nerves, alert and no-nonsense, nice amount of respect and cute on top of all that. “I'm unsure any pony should have that complete skill.” She then lightly clapped her forehooves in appreciation. “Good effort.”
“Thank you, Mistress. I can tie a knot with just my tongue too. Oh, before I forget, I got you something,” she lit her horn once more and levitated a twelve inch Luna plush from her bag on the floor. “There was a fairground up town, Victorian Garden? I won it on the ball toss.”
Barely supressing a delighted squeal, Mapper thoroughly composed herself before she spoke. “Yes, Clementine's stall, I know it well.” Being a carny pony herself, she had literally seen thousands of such plush toys. Thespian owned most of those. Serenity took hold of the plush in her own magic and placed it carefully on her back like it was the crown jewels of Equestria. “You must be skilled.”
“She spent more than the plush is worth, but she did win in the end.”
Mapper turned an eye to her wife, and they again shared a silent dialogue. “It is the thought and the victory that matters. A griffon?”
At the mention of what the plush cost her to win, Black Lace blushed, casting an adorable pink hue across her cheeks. It had cost her half an hour of her life and several dozen bits. But that wasn’t important. “I don't like to lose. And you're doing me a solid, ya know? I don't take something for nothing.” She sipped at her coffee and fancied she could see a slight grin on Mapper’s impervious poker face. “Yeah, a griffon. They're hot. Strong, bold and honourable. Deadly with talons.”
“They like blood. Pony blood.”
Black Lace nodded her head vigorously in agreement to Mapper’s statement. “I want to be conquered, Mistress. Tamed, even, by a dominant griffon.”
Mapper was impressed, and she didn’t impress easily. This unicorn would’ve been a treasure to add to her collection, had circumstances been different, perhaps. Oh well. “Will you be returning to your boutique after the convention?”
“Yuhuh. That's the plan, Mistress. I’ve got plenty of room though.”
As Mapper nodded her head, Serenity stood and left the shop without a word. “I’m curious. Does blood wash out of that dress?”
“Yes Mistress, ma'am. I don't do shoddy work.”
A moment later, and Serenity re-entered the coffee shop, this time with simply the tallest griffon Black Lace had ever seen in her life. Granted, she’d only met three, and they were her customers back home. “Greetings Artur,” Mapper met him like she was welcoming an old friend.
“Is this the pony Moonbeak told me about?” Artur asked, after politely greeting Mapper with an incline of his head.
“It is.” She replied, before addressing Black Lace. “You may call him Ironclaw, unless he is feeling generous.” Mapper had grown to like Artur. For a male, he was most pleasant company, and he always helped with the BDSM parties the herd hosted at Caffeinated’s ranch. She assumed it was because she was going soft in her old age. The thought made Serenity giggle.
“Thank you, Mistress.” Black Lace then turned her full and undivided attention to Artur. He was easily a head taller than she, and sported a fine chest plumage of copper red feathers that went all the way to his head. Patches of grey surrounded his piercing green eyes. Further back, his wings started as a light brown, almost yellow, and ended in grey feathers. Dark brown fur covered the rest of his body, which was all sinew and toned muscle. In short, he was magnificent. She made a respectful bow, and in decent griffonian, said, “Master Ironclaw, good evening to you and honour to your house.”
Artur certainly was not expecting the pony to be able to speak griffonian. While it wasn’t perfect, it was commendable, nonetheless. He cast a green eye at Mapper. “This one is named Black Lace, but that is just her given name. Ser and I are off to the Scene, both of you are welcome to join us.”
“Lace is delicate,” stated Artur, his voice deep for a griffon. It rumbled all the way down Black Lace’s spine to her marehood. “A good name for a pony. Will this Scene take a griffon?” he asked, to which Mapper nodded. “Then we will join you.”
Black Lace didn't shy away from Artur’s piercing look. She held his gaze, standing her ground before him. “Lace is also surprisingly durable, Master.”
Artur’s feathers bristled ever so slightly. A smile tugged at the edges of his beak. He could smell her nerves. He could hear her rapid heartbeat. Her ears were up, her eyes sharp. She was his prey, but he could tell already she would make him earn her. Excellent. “I shall test that, Lace.”
When Mapper walked out of the coffee shop accompanied by Serenity at her side, Artur turned and walked away without a backwards glance. Black Lace, realising this was her moment, quickly hopped off the seating pad, floated up her saddlebags to her back and followed the departing trio at a quick enough pace so that she was a nose behind and to the side of Artur.
Sighing, Leaf moved over to clean the table and take away the trash. “Mapper's tab it is.”
Out on the almost empty sidewalk, Mapper walked at a brisk pace with Serenity to her left and alongside her. Artur motioned to his left with his wingtip. The unicorn had impressed him by waiting to be ordered rather than assuming she could walk where she chose. Nodding her head, Black Lace stepped up to be alongside him, her head up and a high step in her walk.
“I work at the wharf in Brooks and live there. Your accent is odd. Where are you from?” he studied her as they walked together. The pale blue bridle accentuated the line of her jaw. The matching socks made her legs go all the way up. And that corset… to mark this prey as his… it made his sheath tingle.
“Whinnyapolis, Master,” Black Lace was careful to keep the deference in her voice. Respect, but not fawning admiration, which was the ticket. “I own a clothing boutique there. I'm here to attend the two week fashion expo starting next week.” She thought for a moment, her high step not faltering in the slightest. “I apologise, I haven't visited the fish market on the wharf yet.”
“Most of my pony clients are winged,” said Artur, “you are horned. Strong at magic?”
“Strong enough,” Black Lace answered humbly, “Master. With dressmaking, I specialise in using my telekinesis to augment my hooves. My other magic is...limited.” he didn’t need to know that her energy bolts had all the power of a butterfly flying into a brick wall. Or that her shield was considered a joke back at school.
“My cousin, Moonbeak, has a unicorn stallion for a pet.” He smiled when he thought of Brightstar. That unicorn was more griffon than most griffons he knew. “I have you till you leave. Should be fun.”
“Until I leave?” Black Lace smiled, “Should you claim me and mark me, under griffon law stated by Stormclaw the second, my property becomes yours, Master.”
Idly, Artur waved what she said away with a wave of his claw. Internally he was overjoyed. This unicorn was no mere prey, it seemed she was determined to leave her mark on him. He preferred them like this. Spirited, independent, educated. It made the hunt all the more rewarding when he won. “I'll not leave Manehatten,” he spoke evenly, playing the game well, “I will not move your shop to here. I will enjoy you for now. Maybe you will visit again.”
A dramatic sigh left the unicorn’s mouth. “And I was trying to impress with my knowledge, too.”
A sly grin formed on Artur’s beak. The mare was fearless enough to let her guard down and make a mistake around him. Perfect! “I didn't take you for a dummy, but the lack of 'Master’ on that last one may make me reconsider.” To break her and claim her, it made his griffon blood stir.
Almost instantly, Black Lace lit up in a bright red blush that warmed her whole face. It was plenty hot enough, thanks to the alicorn of air conditioning abandoning her to the summer evening. Very quickly, she corrected herself. “Master, your pony apologises for her grave error. Please teach her so it doesn't happen again, Master.”
“Your safe word,” requested Artur, who refused to let himself fantasise too much too soon. Things would unfold as Stormclaw willed, and that was that, “and anything you think is off limits.”
“Stitch, Master.” Black Lace thought for a moment as they walked. She wasn’t paying attention to where they were going, she was happy to let him lead. Had she noticed, she would see they were now on Bridleway, home of the theatres. “Scat, vomit, spit, really gross things like that, are a no. Really tight spaces are...difficult. My pa and grandpa are pegasi, Master. I inherited their claustrophobia.”
A rumbling laugh that sounded like faraway thunder hit the unicorn in all her right places. “And I thought death would be on that list.”
“I'm not helping you eat the evidence!” declared Mapper, who had seemingly awoken from the silent communication she had been engaged in with her wife.
The blush that coated Black Lace’s face threatened to have her burst into flames. “W-We-Well, yes! Um, Master!” she tried to recover her composure, more than once, steadying herself until she could speak again. “I like to dance, a-and I get off on being displayed, looked at. And…”
Artur silenced her with a curt nod. He would discover what she liked over the next few hours. He resolved to draw them from her like a healer drew poison from a wound. “She has pleased me. She will do, Mapper.”
“Good, for we are here.” ‘Here’ was outside the forty second street theatre, on Bridleway, which was closed up. The windows were all boarded. It seemed to Black Lace it hadn’t been in service for some length of time. Mapper led her group down a scary looking pitch black alley to a door that was beyond the reach of the street lights. She knocked a hoof once on the solid steel door. When a small window opened, she passed through a small token. “Four.”
And with that, the door opened, granting them access to the Scene.
Chapter 2 - Control Given is Control Gained
“Ser and I are leaving at eleven-thirty,” stated Mapper, just as Serenity floated over a folded note to Artur in her magical aura. Granting each other a nod of the head, a silent communication between them, the unicorn couple departed.
Artur unfolded the note and, what he read written perfectly in his native language made a predatory smile tug at the edges of his beak. There was a Vampony play on floor two, in room two zero one. There was a large glass window. And Mapper would be looking for them.
This was perfect!
In the lobby area, Black Lace’s head and her dark blue eyes were on a swivel, the young mare trying to look in all directions at once to take everything in. The wooden walls were a deep rich red, the carpeted floor a crimson. The lighting was a brighter red, the mini-chandeliers and torches hanging from the ceiling and walls casting eerie lighting over the room. “Oh wow!” she breathed, awed by the setting.
“Silence.” Ordered Artur, who had crumpled the note in his clawed hand and swallowed it. “You are a reflection of me.” Black Lace, who was so full of questions she felt her head was going to explode, instead clamped her open mouth closed, bent her forelegs and bowed her head low.
Just as curious as she, Artur turned and walked through the entrance lobby to investigate what it was like on this floor. The red décor from the lobby continued through here. His sharp eyes noted an open bar along the far side, and there was heavy bondage everywhere he looked.
A veteran of Trixie’s Place, he had been expecting to see such a sight. However, what he drank in made Trixie’s look like a foal scout party. It seemed that doms using their subs as seats was the norm. Most used their backs, some used their faces. There was a long line of urinal subs placed against another wall, some currently being used. The rest were being degraded and humiliated by their respective owners.
Mapper had told him this place was hardcore, and he wasn’t disappointed.
Having not been instructed to move, and unsure what the rules were, Black Lace thought it best to remain bowed where she was in the lobby. At least the towering minotaur who had been guarding the door was silent and unmoving as a statue. Should she follow, should she not? Indecision froze her hooves.
Realising he was alone, Artur turned and looked over his shoulder to see the white unicorn where he had left her. “Are you leaving already?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.
Looking up, Black Lace’s eyes were wide as she realised her mistake. Quickly, she scampered to catch him up. Naturally that meant she was exposed to the debauched scene in the huge main room. Not that she was a virgin, by any means, but she was unprepared to see bound submissives forced to drink pee from pet bowls (and that was the tamest thing she saw). A second look left and right made her blush around the bridle she was wearing, the small town mare more than a little shocked at the sights.
“Bring me a mug of Stable Hopper,” Artur held out twenty bits in his clawed hand when she was by his side. “You may use your magic.”
“Yes, Master Ironclaw,” Black Lace forced herself to be calm just so she could ignite her horn and channel her magic to hold the small stack of coins. Holding her head up high, and focusing solely on the bar across the room, she walked in a composed manner she didn’t really feel.
From the table he had chosen, Artur watched the pony like the sharp eyed creature he was. He could hear her heartbeat, thudding like a cannon in her chest. He could smell her, even from across the room. She was scared, and she was fighting through it. The fear he detected aroused the predator in him. The bravery she showed made the dominant in him proud of her.
On the way to the bar, Black Lace passed a pegasus stallion using an earth pony stallion as a stool. “Nice teats you have there, little mare,” the dominant pegasus openly leered at the unicorn.
As she passed the next table, Black Lace encountered an earth pony dressed in black stereotypical dominatrix gear sitting on a unicorn stallion’s face using a crop to bat his erection around. If you need to piss, stop on by, girlie,” the mare smirked. Black Lace saw the inhibitor ring the stallion wore and hurried on her way to the bar.
Wisely, Black Lace chose not to reply to the couples she passed. By the time she reached the bar, it was all she could do to keep her black tail down and her mind focused. Fear and unease prickled at the back of her neck, her fur raised.
The bartender, a rather swarthy looking earth pony stallion who wore a long scar on one side of his face and several gold teeth, saw the unicorn coming and instantly labelled her as ‘fresh meat’, in his head. “What?”
Black Lace recoiled from the stallion, for he smelled as unpleasant as he looked. The mixture of tobacco and alcohol didn’t do him any favours. “A mug of Stable Hopper for my Master, please.”
“Twenty bits.”
“Here you go, sir.” Black Lace marvelled at how smoothly she floated over the bits, given the tempest of emotions roiling inside her.
Not even bothering with her, the bartender poured the requested drink into a stone hewed flagon. “Mouth or magic?”
Black Lace glanced quickly at the receptacle as it filled. She noticed, to her slight disgust, that it wasn’t exactly the cleanest thing she had ever seen. The thought of having her mouth on that, or any part of it that the greasy looking bartender had touched, made her want to retch. Thankfully, she had an out. “I am allowed my magic, sir.” she lit her horn ready.
Almost as soon as the bartender pony set the mug on the bar, his attention turned to serving another guest. On way back, the same mare leered at her, “That should have some creature pissing. send them my way.” She ignored her, as she did the stallion, who asked her if she had milk in her teats. She was beet red in the face when she made it back to Artur. “Your drink, Master,” she set the mug down.
Artur had been watching her the whole time. He was, at the same time impressed with her composure and put on edge at the apparent sleaziness of the place. “Fold up your legs and lay belly down.” The time to test her had begun.
Quickly, Black Lace did as she is told. She laid belly down on the floor by the big strong griffon’s rear paws, her dark blue eyes cast down. This served two purposes. One, she didn’t trust the cleanliness of the floor and two, it kept her gaze away from the other patrons. “May your pony speak, Master?”
Getting up, Artur proceeded to take a seat on the unicorn’s back. That seemed to be the way things were done in this room. “You just did,” he replied with an irritation in his voice, “and I have not yet asked for your opinion. Silence and observe.”
The first thing Black Lace noted was that, for as big and muscled as he was, the griffon was surprisingly light. The second, she guessed she had carried as much weight in fabric on her back. However hot she found the situation, and it was very hot, the thing she needed to say was still on her mind.
Artur finished the beer rather quickly. In truth, it wasn’t to his taste at all, but he doubted they had bloodwine. He set the mug on the table and stood, having seen everything he wanted to from the first room. He turned to walk away, as he did so, he nudged his seat with his rear paw.
Shaken from her reverie on the floor, Black Lace got the hint and was up very quickly, following Artur at his side without question. The griffon headed up a set of wide, dark stairs until they were at the second floor, then he headed to room two zero one. Following him, the unicorn tried again. “Master, it is important your pony speak, before we go much further and... deeper.”
Turning to face her, Artur sighed. This was the second time she had spoken out of turn. He was beginning to rethink his assessment of her. Maybe she wasn’t the prize he had thought she was. “There is one word you can speak at any time, and it was none of those.”
“But…I don't want this to end. Not yet. My friends are expecting a call from me at midnight. That's all, Master.”
Artur stared at her in disbelief. His green eyes were wide with incredulity. He was facepalming a claw to his forehead before he knew it. “Mapper said you were new, but really!” he snorted through his nose, and made her flinch. “Your safe word doesn’t end the night, it ends the scene!” he exclaimed with a most frustrated sigh. How could his friend set him up with a submissive who was this green?
Black Lace felt incredibly stupid, and greatly out of her depth. “I... I apologise, Master, for my lack of understanding. Thank you for educating me…” she was babbling, and she hated herself for it, for her nerves and for her constant mistakes.
“Why are you still talking?” he cut across her, silencing her with just his voice. On the verge of crying, Black Lace clamped her mouth shut and held her head up high. She drew on her professionalism, and she forced herself to be calm. Artur heard her slowing heartbeat. He smelled her growing fear recede. Maybe he was too hasty. “Now, if you need something outside the scene I've set up, what do you say?”
At rigid attention, Black Lace answered, “Stitch, Master.” She was determined to make him proud of her. To make him want her.
In the hall, Artur sat. There were other ponies and creatures walking around, but he made sure he was blocking no door. “Now Lace,” he held her with his steely gaze and rumbling voice, “I will upgrade you to two brain cells. You may speak freely as we are outside the session.”
“Thank you, Master.” Black Lace couldn’t help but feel a little silly now, as she stood by his side. “I was afraid, in my hotel, earlier. I called my friends back home, and told them what I planned for tonight, they suggested the safety call.”
“When do they expect the call?”
“Midnight, Master.”
Artur altered his expression and gave the pony what was obviously the ‘idiot’ look. “Mapps is leaving at eleven thirty. I was leaving with her.”
“I wasn't aware you are planning to leave at eleven thirty, Master. That time will do instead.”
“You didn't need to know when I was leaving,” stated Artur, “You're going to lose that second brain cell. Now if it was closer to midnight, I could see what played out playing out. You, are a naughty sub.”
Black Lace wanted to protest. She wanted to scream that she wasn’t naughty, she was new. How was she naughty when she didn’t know what she was doing? Instead, she swallowed all of those roiling emotions and simply nodded. “I am,” she admitted, owning her errors, “but I want to be a good sub, I want to honour you, Master. I beg your forgiveness.”
Outwardly, Artur shrugged. Inwardly, he was surprised – and proud – that the pony didn’t start blubbing and making excuses. She was new, yes, but she was worthy of his time. “Back in session,” he said simply, giving her a steady look. Choosing not to speak, the unicorn instead remembered the lower floor and she folded her legs to lay on her belly so he could sit off the floor.
Satisfied, Artur stood and walked to the door he wanted. A simple gesture later and he had it open. What lay beyond was a large twenty foot square room lit dimly with a false moon and hanging lights to represent stars. On the right wall was painted a gothic castle and forest. On the left, the wall was thick glass. A watching crowd was assembled beyond. All that he noted, but what really drew his attention was the blood.
The smell of it was thick in the air. He could taste it on his tongue. He could feel it on his feathers even as he walked in. Black Lace was up as quickly as her dress allowed. So determined was she to absolutely do and be better. One step inside the room and she froze. She sniffed and looked around. Blood was everywhere. Splashes of it were all over.
She hoped it all wasn’t from one pony.
Her eyes became adjusted to the dim lighting. She saw two other griffons in the room. A jet black female wearing a long red cape had just that second mauled a male. She was over him, lapping up the blood she had just spilled. Three other ponies also wore capes, and they harried and toyed with scared frightened subs who tried to escape them.
Seeing the capes hanging on the wall next to the door, Artur put one around his shoulders and as he advanced upon his pony, he saw the fangs in the dominants mouths. The subs were all bleeding, from shallow and – some not so shallow – wounds. “Close the door behind you.”
This would test her nicely. Or break her to the point she needed lifelong therapy.
Without making a sound, Black Lace closed the door to the large room with a kick from a rear hoof. She shut out the light from the hall. Her world was twilight darkness. Her heart beat a tattoo on her chest. Advancing on her, Artur rubbed his clawed hands together. “Vell my little pony,” he affected the voice to throw her off. “You look sweet tonight.” He cupped her cheek and moved her further into the room, past several pony shaped coffins.
Staring into Artur’s deep green eyes, Black Lace’s first instinct was to laugh at the ridiculous accent, which she did. She snorted as she moved with the touch of the claw. “I am the sweetest treat, my lord.”
Artur smiled, the edges of his beak lifting. She thought this to be a game. She was so off guard he almost felt sorry for her. Almost. He pinched her left ear with his index talon. Slowly he increased the pressure until his talons pierced her skin. Held it there like that as the red trickled down her face.
She wanted to play with a griffon. He would give her what she wanted. All, of what she wanted. First, he had to tame her.
“Aaaaah!” Black Lace let out the low moan, the unicorn arching her neck to look up into the green eyes like she was all vampirically mesmerised. Like she’d seen on the TV. Aroused by the sheer eerie strangeness, her black tail went all the way up behind her, her scent of mare adding to the smell in the room.
Leaning in close, Artur at once licked her blood from her face and adjusted his grip so that his clawed hand closed around her neck. A heft, and he lifted her easily off the floor. When he laid her down, it was in one of the open coffins. Quick as a flash, he lifted it and pressed it up against the glass.
‘I'm in a coffin!’ the horrific realisation that she was in a very restricted space made Black Lace panic. She saw the crowd beyond the glass watching her freak out with a disinterested casualness that only served to increase her heart rate further. “Help me! Please Somepony help!” she screamed, beating on the reinforced glass. A few looked at her. None moved to help her. “Fuuuck...ooh fuck...HELP ME!”
Black Lace could see the ponies in the ground floor bar. She could see them pointing at her, talking about her. The ones on the opposite side of the glass placed bits on the tables and drank, obviously enjoying her fear. Beating on the glass lead to her struggling, her panic rising as she attempted to shove back against the glass.
Artur leant in close to the carved wood of the coffin. He could taste her fear, her mounting terror. It was like sampling a fine wine. “There is no escape for you.” He spoke just loudly enough for her to hear him. “I'm sure those below will admire your bones, given time. You’re going to rot here. No creature will miss you.”
“My lord, no!” tears began to flow down Black Lace’s face, smearing her pale blue makeup. The more she succumbed to her fear, the more she struggled. Panic made her a bit stronger, though she only managed to barely move the box a little, it was quickly pressed back against the glass.
Then, she remembered she was a unicorn. Lighting her horn, she aimed a telekinetic blast behind her, which moved the coffin backwards. Her magical power was enough to overcome the griffon’s raw strength, but she wasn’t given more than a second to celebrate her win. Artur allowed the coffin to fall, but he twisted it so that it landed face down. Then he sat on it.
“AAARGH!” what started as a ‘play’ suddenly became very real to Black Lace. She let out another scream that echoed in the now pitch black enclosed space. A series of futile bucks from her front and rear legs had the coffin barely moving. She was just tiring herself out.
As she screamed and fought, a thought entered her mind from the rational part of her brain that was still working. “I'm being played...” as she said it, she knew it. He was toying with her. Cultivating her fear like a farmer grew wheat. This time when she used her telekinesis on the coffin, the unicorn rolled to the side before he could trap her again. Panting hard, she reared up on her hooves, her eyes wide and with blood marring the side of her face.
“Got a feisty one there,” commented one of the fanged cape wearing mares just as Artur pounced on his prey from behind. His claws, complete with razor sharp talons, dug into her back, shredding through the dress she wore and penetrating her flesh underneath fur. His beak was at her neck, poised to strike.
“OOOOW!” Black Lace hollered, and her Equido martial arts training kicked in. Instinct made her roll forwards with the force of the pounce, and as she came out of the roll, she aimed a force push to get some separation between her and him. Blood gushed from the six taloned wounds at her shoulders as she ran in a little zig zag to throw him off. When she came to the wall, she turned to face him, her own blood seeping down over her forelegs.
Artur stalked forwards. Blood on his claws, he smeared it over his beak. The copper tang hit his nostrils. He let out a courage shattering screech, reared up and flexed his powerful arms. He expected her to cower. To cry. To beg for her life.
He did not expect her to attack him.
Caught with a wall at her back, Black Lace snorted through her nose, and she reached back with a forehoof. She ripped off the rest of her torn and shredded dress she had been wearing. Wrapping it in her magic, she sent it and her telekinetic power flying at the griffon as a distraction.
At the same time, the blooded mare galloped at the advancing Artur. When she was close, she reared up onto her hind legs and she spun on her right hind hoof, aiming a kick with her left hind right at his torso. The blow connected. The technique was flawless. She yelled a "HAAA!" to give her blow force. It had a good sting behind it, but all her Equido skill in the world didn’t matter squat when she hit the unmoveable slab of muscular griffon.
All she succeeded in doing was get in close and expose her whole left side to him, all the way up to her neck.
The force of the flying spin kick caught Artur by surprise. It staggered him backwards two paces, but that was all it did. Snarling, he seized her horn in his clawed hand, squeezing it with his talons to cancel her next spell. Then, he swept the leg she was standing on with his broad powerful wing. With a pained, “Guuuuh!” she landed on her back, new pain blossoming in her head from her horn that made her see stars.
Artur knew his prey was stunned and disoriented. He could see the adrenalin bought on by her fear had faded. She was vulnerable. She was his. With no wasted motion, he bowed and went for her exposed throat. He pierced her with his beak, just enough to bring out a drop of her blood. “Surrender to me and live. This place cares not about your death.”
His terms were simple indeed.
“Stitch!” Black Lace didn’t just say her safe word. She screamed it, and in griffonian, to make sure he didn’t miss it. Her dark blue eyes were staring wide, terror bubbling under the surface. “I surrender to you, Master Ironclaw, I surrender!”
Artur held her for a few more, long seconds. Long enough to draw out the moment as long as he could. His tongue lapped up the drop of blood and he could taste her vitality. He tasted her essence right then. At the point between life and death, she revealed who she was to him. He almost came on the spot.
There was a furious clapping of hooves and claws from those other players in the room, as well as cheers of “well played” and “masterful performance”. Neither Artur nor Black Lace heard them. Each only had eyes for the other.
“Pick up your rags and follow.” He ordered simply as he dropped her and walked out of the room without looking back.
“Master, y-yes Master…” the impact of the drop bought the unicorn back to her senses. She scrabbled to her hooves, wearing just her socks and bridle, and she scooped up her tattered dress. Certain she had pissed herself, she hurried out of the dimly lit room and into the brighter space beyond.
Out in the hall, Artur turned to her when she closed the door behind her. He marvelled at the art he had created on the canvas of her body. It was beautiful. Blood marred the white fur at her back. Tears smeared makeup down her face. Her pee completed the look. He wished he’d bought a camera. “Do you know healing magic?” he asked, putting a tone of care into his deep voice.
“O-Only for minor things, Master,” the unicorn forced her brain to work. She could heal, but she only knew minor cantrips, for things like pin pricks and paper cuts. Nothing that could help her now.
Artur said no more on the matter, and he walked off. He expected her to stay conscious long enough for her to follow him. Following, Black Lace stayed quiet. She concentrated her efforts on walking, staying upright, and not passing out from the agonising pain she experienced with every step she took.
Without looking back, he led her back to the lower level. Instead of going to the bar, he turned away and headed across the room to a door marked with a serpent eating its tail. Artur opened it and inside he was presented with a bright white room inhabited by a neon blue unicorn with an ochre green mane. “I do not wish for this one to bleed to death,” he stated, placing several bits on the table.
Artur watched her stagger into the medical room. She had lost so much blood, was so weakened, he was amazed she was still walking. He knew he had chosen well with this one. He watched the unicorn healer light her horn and cast a bright blue glow over his pony. Instantly, all the bleeding stopped and the wounds on her back and shoulders closed but left behind six nasty scars. “My thanks.” Healing completed, he walked out of the room and moves deeper into the building to another door with a water drop on it.
Inside, were four ponies in the shower room. He led her over to an empty corner where there was a shelf and a seat under a vacant shower head. “Take off your socks. Time to clean you up.”
Black Lace nodded her head in acquiescence. The bleeding may have stopped, but everything. Literally everything, hurt. From nose to tail, pain lit her up. And she was weak. So much so that she cried, sobbing as she struggled to non-magically remove her socks. Numbly, she took a moment to fold them and put them on the shelf first.
Demonstrating a degree of gentle care that belied his fierce look and sharp claws, Artur began the cleaning process. Carefully, he licked the still wet blood that coloured her scarred withers and shoulders. He was pleased she offered him no resistance. His coarse tongue went all the way down her back to her loins and even her croup. This he repeated several times until her coat was just an off pink rather than blood red.
Artur took his time with this. More than was strictly necessary. Each lick over her withers to her croup reinforced in her mind he would care for her. That he was there for her, and he would protect her. He started the water, making it barely lukewarm, and gently massaged in body shampoo to her fur. He took even longer with this, making sure her battered mind recognised his touch, welcomed his touch, and needed his touch.
He rinsed and reapplied the shampoo three more times until her coat was shining pure white. Then he started on her sweat matted mane. He coaxed conditioner into her black hair, smoothing it, caressing it. All the time he worked he muttered little nothings in her ear. “Master will guard you. Master will keep you safe. Master will care for you.” Over and over, he calmed her, making sure the aftercare soothed her psyche and her soul as much as the bathing soothed her body.
She was his. And he would keep her safe in every way a good dominant should. “You have done well, my precious pet.” He whispered in her pierced ear as he turned off the water, only when it ran clear.
“I - I did?” Black Lace looked at him wide eyed for a long moment, like she was seeing him for the first time. “Thank you, Master,” she offered him a smile that was as weak as she felt.
Artur spent another twenty minutes drying her with a towel so soft it defied physics, then he brushed her mane and coat until it glowed, and his arm ached. Only then, did he set aside the brush. “Socks back on, my pet. And don't leave the rags behind.” He was still in the session, but his rumbling voice was softer now.
Black Lace, having been calmed and groomed to within an inch of her life, simply nodded her head and pulled her socks back on, one after the other. She took a long few minutes to do it by hoof, but however long she took, she didn’t seem to be hurried in any way. When he finally left, she took up the remains of her dress and followed.
Calmly, Artur led his charge back to the entrance lobby, where the towering minotaur waited like a silent statue. “Gatekeeper.” He addressed to eight foot tall creature.
“Yes,” the immense male stared down, his fearsome visage unreadable.
“When Mistress Mapper leaves, tell her Master Ironclaw has left before her.”
“Done.”
Outside the disused theatre, now in the dead of night, Artur led the way along Bridleway, past a couple of theatres lit up with hundreds of neon bulbs, just one block to an all-night diner. Inside, he ordered two breakfast specials, with orange juice for Black Lace and a coffee for himself. The earth pony waitress took the order, nodded and left the griffon to claim an empty table. With a claw, he motioned for his pony to sit next to him.
Black Lace’s brain was still in a frazzled state of shock. Numbly she sat very carefully in the booth seat, so as not to aggravate her recently healed wounds. The skilled and experienced dominant in Artur recognised her silence for what it was. He knew the fragility she was feeling. “The session over. Well Lace, am I griffon enough for you?”
Black Lace was quiet with her thoughts for a few moments more, the mare processing what had happened to her. “Yes Master,” she replied eventually, when she felt confident enough to speak and form coherent sentences. “That…was...a lot. A lot of a lot.”
“You said earlier that lace is strong and durable. I will give you that.” Artur was only too happy to pay her the compliment. She had earned it. “That was a nice kick. A little higher and you might have knocked the wind out of me.”
“Ha...” the unicorn snorted out a laugh, “a bit of my brain is still processing the coffin. I... I’ve never felt fear like that before, not ever.”
“You did surprise me with the strength of your telekinetic magic,” the praise was genuine. “There is a type of lace. A term I heard somewhere before. Fil a something?”
“Filigree, Master.” Only with that, did she at last realise a truth. A hard, solid truth. The whole evening, she had given him a lot of information about herself. Her magical strength, her physical ability and the limits of the pain she could take.
A moment later and the breakfasts arrived on two large platters. There were fried eggs, rashers of hay bacon, hashbrowns, beans, vegetarian sausages and black puddings. Artur thanked the waitress and then glanced at his pony. “Eat up, my pet. I shall name you Filigree. I'm pleased you used your safe word, but I thought you at your limit. Still, it is a good sign.”
Artur smiled to himself as he began to eat. He watched her closely. His pony. His submissive mare. His Filigree. There would be jewellery for the ear he had pierced, a just reward, to signify he had tamed her to his will.
Black Lace was quiet the whole time she ate her meal. Her belly was empty, and it demanded feeding. However, she didn’t rush. She ate slow, giving her body the food, salt and water it required to function. Her brain was working the whole time, the food kickstarting her higher functions. Only when her plate was empty, did she look at him. “You named me.”
“I have,” Artur confirmed, pleased and impressed she had a knowledge of griffon law. Not everypony did, so when he encountered it, it was refreshing. “But I will not own you. Not in the way the law demands. Your time in Manehatten will be interesting. I want tickets to the event for the day you show your work.”
“What?” Black Lace looked up at the big griffon at her side. “But...you named me. That means something! I know it does. I have griffon customers at home. They talk.” She blinked as the memory came back to her. “Tame, name, claim. That...isn't a thing?”
Artur laughed. Not demeaning, or to be mean to her. A genuinely affectionate laugh. “Yes, you are right, about the law. Were we in Griffonstone, naming you would make you my property in all respects. I amend the law. You are mine while you are in Manehatten. When you go back to your home, you will still be mine, but you will be on free time. At least until you return to me. I will release you if you tell me your name is Black Lace.” He paused and held up a claw, “You can give that name to any creature but me. I know it matters to your business.”
“I like Filigree, Master.” The tamed pony smiled and slumped her tired head to his broad powerful chest. “My name is Filigree, because I chose to be. I am your pony because I want to be. You are my Master because I let you be.” She gave him an upwards look. “So um, want to come back to my hotel?”
“Closer than my place, most likely.” Artur was so proud of her. In just a couple of hours, she had gone from totally green, to understanding and accepting her role and his. Trust so willingly given was the headiest of aphrodisiacs to him. “How are you holding up, Filigree?”
“Everything hurts, Master,” admitted Filigree with a weary smile, “but I'm alive. And... I’m horny, after all that.” she giggled softly, a blush colouring her face as she admitted she wanted him. “Plus, I'd rather be comfortable in my room when I call them.”
“Pain lets you know you live, my pet.” He gently stroked her black mane as he spoke softly to her. “Where is your hotel?”
“In that case,” Filigree shrugged, “I'm very much alive. It's not far. I’m staying at The Moxy, one of the hotels between the big train station and Saddle Row.”
“I wonder if you can walk a mile,” Artur tapped his beak with a talon. Part of him wanted to make her walk just to see if she could. However, the bit of him that would be murdered painfully by Mapper and Serenity if they found out he abused a tamed sub in his care swiftly dissuaded him. “Subway it is.”
“You are a generous and kind Master.”
~ ~ ~
When Master and pet reached the hotel room, the clock had just ticked over to exactly eleven thirty. Filigree slumped exhausted on the single large bed that occupied the majority of the room, and Artur closed and locked the door.
By hoof, the tired unicorn retrieved her phone from her saddlebag and forced herself to focus on the list of contacts she scrolled through. “You want in on the call, Master?”
“No, Filigree, I will listen to your words and forgive them their words.” Instead, he elected to perch himself on a seating pad by the bed, out of sight of the camera on his pony’s phone.
“That’s fair,” Filigree giggled, thinking of her two best friends in all the world. “Broadside and Sandstorm can be a bit...intense. They're sisters,” as she magically dialled the selected number, she prepared herself to – temporarily, thank Celestia’s grace – step away from Filigree and become Black Lace, for her friends.
“It's her!” a painted slate grey and dark blue pegasus squealed, the camera on her end taken up by her whole face.
“Duh, who else would it be, dummy?” an amber coloured mare shoved the first out the way so she could be seen too. Both mares shared exactly the same brown eyes.
“Hey girls,” Black Lace hated the sound of uncertainty and indecision in her voice. When she had been Filigree, in the diner and on the subway car, there had been none of that. All she had to think about was being the best pet ever to her Master. A whine from her throat said she wanted that again.
“Lace! You okay, girl?” Broadside caught the whine, but she didn’t know its cause. “How did it go?”
“You aren't dead!” observed the ever astute Sandstorm. The brains of the dynamic duo.
“I’m not dead, Sandy. It went great,” as she spoke, Black Lace shot furtive glances to Artur, as if just getting a look from him would calm her like he had in the showers, “BS, I’m just...relaxing in my hotel room.”
Like she had for the past several years since school, Broadside chose to ignore her nickname. She had better things to sink her primaries into than hating ‘BS’. “Details! I want details!”
“So, want details!” added Sandstorm, who had taken the phone and placed it on a tripod so they could both be seen on the camera at the same time.
“Can't it wait?” Black Lace was aware she was sweating. “I'm really out of it…”
“No!” Broadside wore a determined expression.
“Not a chance. Spill, filly.” Sandstorm crossed her forelegs and adopted an identical expression to her sister.
Sweat poured down Black Lace’s brow. Her magic took care of it. “Fine.” She realised she had nowhere to manoeuvre. “I met a griffon Master. He's called Ironclaw. We went to a club, we...played a scene. He...tested me.”
While her sister was the ‘brains’, Broadside wasn’t completely stupid. She could tell her best friend was holding something back. The unicorn had never hidden anything from them, not ever. “How did he ‘test’ you?”
Black Lace wanted to cry. “Does it matter?”
“It so matters.” Stated Sandstorm, who after sharing a ‘sister knows all’ look with Broadside, wholeheartedly agreed with her.
“There was a Vampony room, in the club we went to,” admitted the struggling unicorn. “There was blood.”
“Blood?” Sandstorm’s eyebrow rose so high it practically crawled up and off her head and disappeared into her chocolate brown mane.
“My blood.”
“Are you?”
“BS, I'm fine,” however, Black Lace didn’t feel fine. She was on the spot, and she didn’t like it, regardless of how well meant the interrogation was. “I used my safe word. He respected it and me, I'm fine.”
Sandstorm, contrary to popular belief, had not fallen off last year’s hearths warming tree. “Show me.”
“Show me, too.”
“What?” dark blue eyes were wide as saucers, “You don't...”
“Show us now,” Sandstorm had had quite enough, “or we go to your ma and pa this minute, and they bring you home.”
“Ugh,” knowing she had no other choice in the matter, Black Lace held her phone in her dark blue aura while she turned her back to the sisters and magically lifted up the white fur on her withers and her shoulders.
“O. M. Goodness...” Sandstorm, far from a squeamish pony, had never been lost for words before. Looking at the six long scars that adorned her best friend’s body though, she wasn’t too sure.
“Sweet Celestia!” breathed Broadside, her brown eyes wide and staring, in the manner you’d look at a car wreck on the highway. “Are you sure you're okay? You look pretty fucked up.”
“Girls,” the word came out as a strangled whimper, “I'm fine, I promise.”
“Celestia’s fat cake loving ass you’re fine!” exploded Sandstorm, who had at last found her voice, “We can get your folks, three day train ride, you’ll be safe with us.”
“No!” Black Lace felt tears beginning at the corners of her eyes, “I don't want that, please!” Both sisters looked at each other, and because she’d known them both since she had been eighteen, she could read the intent on their faces. “I said I'm fine, girls, please listen!”
In his seating pad by the bed, Artur made a soft noise that came from the bottom of his throat, a noise that visibly calmed his ever distressing pony.
The noise was so soft, the mic on the camera phone didn’t pick it up. “Well, okay,” Sandstorm agreed reluctantly, “We'll back off, for now. Remember, call, or we get your folks in, like yesterday.”
“I don't like this, Sandy,” pleaded Black Lace, “I'll call, promise, just trust me, please.” With a nod and a winged salute from the sisters, the call ended, and Black Lace threw her head down, covering it with her forehooves.
Artur wasn’t having that. No pony of his was going to be allowed to be so miserable. Saying nothing, he snapped his taloned fingers to get her attention.
“Master?” the change was like flipping a light switch. By the time the unicorn’s head was raised and she was at attention on the bed, his Filigree was back. Her ears were forward, her eyes on him alone. Gone was her doubt and worry, replaced by the desire to be the best pet she could be for her Master.
“I so wanted to nip your ear while you were on the phone,” Artur smirked, his green eyes twinkling with mischievous light.
Filigree blushed, not from any embarrassment, rather pride that he had expressed a desire to mark her twice. “You've already pierced me once, Master.”
“And I will do so again, and I'm going to put a pretty earring in it. Now,” he raised up from the seating pad and stretched. It was almost time to bring this evening to a close. The right way. “Do you know how to massage?”
Filigree couldn’t stop her black tail wagging happily at the thought of wearing something her Master might chose for her. To wear it, them, and show everypony she belonged to him, it made her whole back end wag. “Yes Master, I can massage.”
Walking over, Artur laid his strong body out on the bed. At full stretch, his paws and leonine tail hung off the foot of the bed. He then spread his powerful grey wings out wide. “Preen too?”
Filigree’s face was bright scarlet, the submissive mare dumbfounded at the level of trust he was displaying to her by making himself vulnerable in such a manner. “Functional, not um...ya know, sexy preening.”
“Functional will do for now. Then I will know how much I must teach you.”
“Right away, Master!” eagerly, Filigree shifted her position and grunted on the bed as her aching wounds protested. She placed herself behind the griffon’s extended left wing. While she had done this once or twice for either of the two sisters, this was an altogether different prospect. She started by nosing through the feathers, detecting any out of alignment, any that were bent or old. One really shabby looking one she tugged out, and then she started to suck each primary feather long and slow.
“Good to know your family wouldn't let you avoid this,” Artur sighed as she worked. It wasn’t the most sensual or erotic, that was true, but her basic technique was flawless. Again, his Filigree impressed him.
“Thank you, Master,” after sorting the primaries like she had been shown, Filigree moved onto the secondary feathers. Like the ones before, they were broader and carried more mass than a pegasus feather. She assumed it was because the griffons relied on actual wing strength to fly than magic to do most of the work. Without hesitation, she cleared away some errant feather mites with her tongue. Is that good, Master?”
“That was sufficient, Filigree. You will be trained to my expectations. Now, the massage, my pet.”
Filigree preened and pushed her chest out, proud to have received such praise from her Master. For the massage, she began at Artur’s shoulders, circling her hooves around the muscles and channelling some of her telekinetic magic to aid her.
Then the best thing happened. She made her Master purr.
Artur’s growly rumbling purrs continued until Filigree had finished massaging his back. “Stand up, my pet.” He ordered her and, as if she was controlled by wires, the unicorn was up on her hooves in a flash. Artur then rolled over to his back underneath her. He was sporting an impressive erection the likes of which she had never seen before. “Ride me.”
“Oh!” Filigree’s dark blue eyes were very wide indeed at the sight before her. “Oh, spin my horseshoes...” shuffling her hooves, she got herself into position over Artur and squatted down. After everything she had experienced and endured that night, Filigree’s marehood was dripping wet. After two unsuccessful tries and readjustments, she finally got the right angle and she felt him slip inside her. “Oooh!” she went lower, inch by inch, feeling him fill her and stretch her.
A caw of pleasure left Artur’s beak as he felt himself stretch her. It wasn’t that he was moulding and reshaping her marehood to fit himself – much like he had with the rest of her – it was the simple fact that she allowed him to. She wanted him to. The consent she gave almost had him busting a nut then and there. Only a force of will stopped him. He lightly put his claws on her cutie marks. “Ride me, Filigree.”
“You're...hmmm...so b-big!” Filigree began the ride. She was slow and her motions were haphazard at first, her inexperience evident to them both. But, as was bound to happen, the unicorn quickly found her rhythm. She began to move faster and smoother, getting wetter all the time.
Lewd sounds of a sopping wet marehood being impaled by a ten inch griffon cock filled the hotel room. Under her, Artur didn't sink in the talons on his claws, but he did carry her up on the upstroke. It was all her and gravity that did the rest coming down.
Filigree didn’t make it past seven minutes before she was panting hard, her eyes rolling in her head and tongue hanging out. “M-Ma-Master…I-I don't think.... much longer!”
It was fortuitous she said that, because he was close as well. “Then cum!” he shouted the command at the same time he lifted her hindquarters up and used all his strength to slam her forcefully back down. He bottomed out inside her, the tip of his long thick shaft pulsating as he came deep inside her. Filigree was about to thank him, but as she opened her mouth, his tip battered her cervix, and she gave voice to a very loud scream. Her orgasm mixed with his, his load inflated her belly, hers squirted all over his crotch.
“You have done well, Filigree,” he heaped well deserved praise upon his tamed pony even as her head slumped forwards, the mare utterly spent. “Can you afford room service?”
“Yuh huh...service the room. I am many bits!” she giggled stupidly, her brain having vacated her head for the moment.
Artur couldn’t find it in him to reprimand her. She was so honest to Stormclaw cute, he had to laugh out loud. He carefully rolled to his side and took her with him so that she faced him on the bed. “Sleep now, my beautiful pet. I know a place to help you rebuild your blood.”
“Think I go sleepies now…” dark blue eyes were closed, and she was out cold in Luna’s realm in seconds.
Chapter 3 - Reality Check
The first thing Black Lace realised when she awoke the next morning was that, for the first time in a long time, she was not alone in her bed. The second thing that occurred to her was that she wasn’t ‘alone’, with a male.
Yes, she had woke up in the past to find either Sandstorm or Broadside in her bed – or she in theirs – but those times had been due to them having a sleepover in each other’s houses.
The third thing that struck her, quite literally, in this case, was the ten inches of griffon cock that was nudging into her back. Carefully rolling over so as not to disturb the sleeping griffon too much, the unicorn caught sight of her first ever morning wood.
While she did miss the comfort provided by his wing being draped over her and the warmth of his body pressed in behind her, she didn’t regret her choice now she was staring at his rock hard ten inch shaft. Mesmerised by it, she decided to take the initiative and she reached out with a sock clad hoof.
Devoid of the pony who had been warming his front, Artur rolled to his back and lay with his leonine legs splayed open and his erection on even greater display. After a few more moments of the sock clad hoof stroking him, he cracked open a green eye and whispered, “Enjoying yourself? I am.”
“Good morning, Master,” Black Lace smiled and blushed a beautiful deep red at being ‘caught’. “I felt you, poking at my back and wondered what it was,” she was still stroking up and down with her forehoof as she spoke, “Is um...is this okay?”
“Didn't have a clue, did you, Filigree?” he asked with a casual smirk.
“Um…” the unicorn’s hoof paused in her task at mid mast on the griffon’s throbbing shaft, “no, I didn’t. This is my first time waking up not alone. I thought I’d, I mean, I wanted to do something nice for you.”
Artur couldn’t resist a tease. “And I thought you were close to the two pegasi you called last night?”
Kneeling at her Master’s side on the bed, Black Lace gave him a little eye roll, as well as a snort of breath through her nose. “I meant ‘not alone’ with a male. Uh, am I doing this right?” she asked, indicating what her hoof was doing.
“I’m not complaining,” grinned Artur, but he had a rather better idea for their morning fun. “Last night you rode me. I think this morning, I'll ride you.”
“I'd like that, Master!” the words were out of Black Lace’s mouth before she realised what she’d said. Momentarily, she flicked her dark blue eyes to from the griffon’s face to his cock and back again. “Should I um...lick it, first?” she asked, recalling what usually happened in her best friends’ dirty movies.
“Another time,” Artur said as he rolled up to his paws and claws. Reaching out for his pony, he gripped, lifted and flipped the unicorn over onto her belly like she weighed nothing. His action earned him a ‘yeep’ of surprise from the mare. Leaning in, he nudged apart her labia with bridge of his beak and deftly used his tongue to check her for wetness.
Effortlessly flipped over like she was nothing, Black Lace instantly hiked her black tail up and out the way, resting it over her back like she was in heat. Head down, her rear was lifted slightly when one of the hotel room’s pillows was slid under her belly. Artur was pleased to see his pony was very wet from just one lick.
Artur positioned himself behind her and in one smooth motion, he mounted and penetrated Black Lace and didn’t stop until his fur touched hers. The low moan of pleasure she made was music to his ears. His clawed hands gripped her cutie marks with just enough force that he didn’t add more scars to her body, and he calmly sawed himself in and out of her sopping wet tunnel.
At around ten minutes of being slowly but relentlessly made love to, Black Lace began to pant hard, her breathing quickly becoming haggard as she neared her orgasm. “Oh…ooh I-I'm g-gonna cum!” she gasped, however instead of continuing and pushing her over her edge, Artur lowered his left claw to her large jiggling teat and pinched at her nipple. “Oow! Wh-Wha...” she whined, the sharp pain serving to pour cold water on her and putting the orgasm out of her mind. “Master!”
The smirk on Artur’s face practically split his face in half. Calmly, he resumed his sedate pace, happy to plow her with no hurry. “Twitchy Claw syndrome,” he offered by way of an explanation.
“Uh uh…” Black Lace wasn’t buying it, but she was hardly in a position to argue, since almost all her focus was on the slow pleasure building again in her dripping core. It only took seven minutes for her to be panting and drooling. “M-Master, I'm gonna!” she didn’t finish, instead she felt her pussy clench around his shaft.
Artur felt it too. The muscular walls tightened and spasmed, a sure tell she was very close. This time, the claw that had pinched her nipple instead reached forwards and flicked her nose. “Aah oow!” she yelped, the unexpected pain dousing her fire even as he was stoking it yet again.
This third time, Artur was ready for his own climax, and so he picked up the pace. What had been sedate thrusts with all the urgency of a glacier became stronger and faster by the second. At five minutes, he was plowing her face first into the footboard of the bed. Beneath him, Black Lace was panting and moaning like she had Ran the Leaves through the orchards of her uncle’s farm. “Master please!” she begged pitifully, “Please can I cum, please?”
Above her, the dominant griffon said nothing. The only sounds coming from him were the repeated slapping and clapping of thighs meeting ass over and over again, combined with the slick squelching of cock thrusting hard into its pussy. It was a lewd soundtrack to start the morning with.
Artur didn’t stop her the third time he felt her clench and tighten around him. He liked to play with his prey, but he wasn’t a cruel Master. When she threw her head back, he gripped her black mane and pulled hard as he thrust into her like a jackhammer. When she screamed at the top of her lungs he swore he could hear her mind snap. Filigree felt like she had lost her mind when she finally got to orgasm after the rounds of denial. “Th-Thank you Master!”
Artur kept up his grip and only released her mane when he felt himself begin to soften inside her. Only then did he pull out, after making sure his hot seed wasn’t going to leak out of his pony. “Now, you can clean me up.”
“Yes Master,” Filigree turned on the bed and she snuffled her snout into Artur’s messy shaft and balls, licking up from the base all the way to the tip. While she was obviously inexperienced, she was nothing if not very enthusiastic. In the process of cleaning him, she ended up with a generous amount of his seed smeared on her muzzle. Before she could finish her task, he lifted up her muzzle for a lick. “You do taste nice, my pet.”
Filigree giggled at that, because she could smell his musk and his seed seeping into the fur on her face and around her muzzle. It marked her just as assuredly as his claws and talons had done the previous night. Once she was done and he was clean, she sat up on her haunches. “You were doing a training thing then, weren't you?”
Artur chuckled. Everything he did to her and for her was a training thing. Instead of pointing that out, he instead inclined his head to his clever pet. “Training, testing, finding your tolerances.”
“I think I felt my brain moving on that last one,” Filigree giggled and as she stretched her legs on the bed, she realised something had changed. She didn’t think of herself as Black Lace. She hadn’t thought of herself as Black Lace. She was Filigree. Was it during the orgasm denial, or had it been when she was cleaning her Master? She wasn’t sure. But there was no doubt in her mind who she was. Then, her eyes wide. “Oh, I need to call ma and pa, let them know I'm alright!”
“Sit at the table,” Artur pointed to the table in the corner of the hotel room by the large window that, once he had pulled apart the curtains, flooded the room with summer sunshine. “I'll order breakfast from the room service.”
Doing as she was told, Filigree went and sat on the closest of the two seating pads to the window. She felt energised by the warm sun. While she dialled, Artur was pleased to see, as he called the room service, that she hadn’t tried to clean herself up. She definitely wore a ‘just fucked’ look. It suited her.
On the third ring, the face of a middle aged sky blue pegasus mare filled the screen, her round pleasant face all dimples and dark blue freckles. “Heya sweetie!” Rainblossom waved a hoof at her daughter, “How's the big city?”
“It's great ma,” Filigree replied, only then realising what she looked like. By then it was too late. She was just glad her mother couldn’t smell her. “Where's pa?”
“Oh, he's had to go take a junior squad on a training run to water the south farmers’ fields. So,” Rainblossom had picked up immediately on the slight change in her daughter’s voice. The different way she held herself. To her it was like talking to a different pony. Not bad, just different. “Do you have something to tell your ma?”
“Um, maybe?” Filigree wasn’t expecting to be put on blast like that so quickly. Not that she was going to lie.
“Sandstorm and Broadside both told me you had some big news when I saw them earlier.” Rainblossom had tried to get more from the giggling sisters, but they had insisted she get it from the source.
“Oh, did they?”
“Tell your old ma.”
Filigree opened her mouth and then what felt like her life history fell out all at once. “I met a griffon dominant called Ironclaw at a coffee shop,” once she started speaking, she couldn’t stop. “I call him Master now, and we went to a fetish club last night and he named me Filigree and then we did it in my hotel room and now I don't know what to do because I'm confused at it's all hurting my head!”
Processing all of that, Rainblossom blinked several times to give her brain time to work. Her filly had said it all very fast, like she was tearing a band aid off. “Is he there with you now, sweetie?” she asked, the mother in her kicking into high gear.
As luck would have it, the griffon had just finished with the order to the room service. He set the phone down and went to sit on the vacant pad next to his pony. “I'm here ma'am. Artur, of house Ironclaw, at your service. It's a pleasure to meet you.”
“Oh my…” Rainblossom had to fan herself with a wing when she saw the tall powerfully built griffon move into the camera’s range and sit before her. She smiled and batted her eyes at him while her daughter rode out her freak out. “You are the one my daughter calls Master?”
“I am,” he answered simply as he began to stroke Filigree’s black mane with his right claw. He appreciated the middle aged mare on the camera. It was instantly clear to him exactly where his pony had inherited her much larger than average crotch boob size.
“Then could you please calm your pony?” asked Rainblossom, taking the unusual situation wholly in her stride, “Then we can talk properly.” While spoke, she watched him stroke the unicorn’s mane and her coat, all the time talking softly straight in her ear. When she saw her daughter visibly calm, she continued, “honey, what's wrong?”
“Master named me Filigree, and I like it, I really like it! I want to be her, it feels so good when I am, like I have no worries, no confusion, I can just be! But I can't, I have to be Black Lace and...”
“Honey,” mother gently interrupted her daughter’s growing tirade before it could get out of control, “do you remember your grandpa? Tell me about him.”
“Grandpa?” Filigree blinked at the sudden topic change. On her phone’s camera, her mother nodded. “Um, grandpa, when he got old, he thought he was Admiral Fairyflight.”
“And what did we do?”
“We called him that,” Filigree replied, her dark blue eyes misting ever so slightly when she remembered her grandpa Soaring Wings. “We accepted it, and we made sure Admiral Fairyflight was safe and happy until he passed.”
“So why is this any different, honey?”
“But I'm not...” Filigree found it was hard to concentrate on whatever she was – or wasn’t – thanks to Artur’s dextrous claw slowly stroking her fur all the way down her back in one smooth motion.
“Old, mentally impaired?” said Rainblossom kindly, “No you aren't. But you are upset, and you are having a crisis. Listen to me, Filigree, whatever your name, I am your mother, and you are still my precious filly. Okay, honey?”
“But ma...I really like being Filigree...what if I... what if...” the unicorn broke down into quiet sobbing tears even as Artur continued to gentle her with the long, slow motions of his clawed hand.
“What if you want to embrace her?” Rainblossom watched Black Lace – no, she mentally chastised herself for her error – she watched Filigree nod her head. “Then you embrace her, sweetie.”
“But she's not Black Lace, and...my business...”
“Oh, honey, becoming Filigree doesn't stop you making clothes!” Rainblossom desperately wanted to hold and hug her filly, and she was pleased her Master was there to do it for her. “Remember your nanna? Tell me about your nanna, sweetie.”
“When grandpa Soaring Wings became Admiral Fairyflight, nanna Sweet Cloud went and changed her name to Summer Breeze.” Filigree remembered. The simple act of kindness from her nanna helped keep her frail grandpa happy even as his condition got worse.
“And after grandpa died?”
“She kept her name as Summer Breeze, but...”
“And was she any less your nanna?” asked Rainblossom rhetorically, already knowing the answer. “Of course she wasn't. Filigree, you are simply a pony starting something big and new in her life. What you are feeling is perfectly normal. Mr Artur,” she decided to finally address the hunk of a griffon when her daughter was at last calmed and gentled to the point her eyes were closed and she was leaning heavily on his right side, “you are an honourable griffon?”
“My honour is my life.”
“Then, I can trust that my filly is in good claws?” Rainblossom smiled widely at the image of Filigree leaning into the claw that was stroking her from her withers all the way to her croup.
“Claws, yes.” Artur couldn’t keep the twinkle of mischief from his piercing green eyes. “Good is dependent on how naughty this filly is.”
Rainblossom giggled at that, and at the utterly contented mare at his side making the happy little cooing noises with her eyes closed. “She can be quite wilful. Just a warning. May I ask, why Filigree?”
Artur took a long moment to consider that himself. “Filigree is fine ornamental open work which can be made of lace. She is fine, and I hope a bit more than just ornamental. Time will tell.”
If it was possible, Rainblossom’s smile got even wider. “I'd ask her what she thinks, but I think it's obvious she's into you, Mr Artur. And I do understand. We have a griffon on our bridge team. We watched her do the same thing with her stallion lover last year.”
Storing that snippet away, Artur was satisfied that was the reason Filigree’s mother wasn’t freaking out about the huge change in her daughter’s life, or that he was the cause of it. That she had a knowledge of the process made things easier, for all parties. “I will help her in rebranding her image as Filigree Fashions. We are going to one of the main designers downtown today. I have some experience with her.”
“You have my support and my blessing, Mr Artur, and I know Merry will say the same when I see him.”
“I thank you for that, ma’am.” Artur grinned. It was easy to like this mare. She was down to earth, considering she was a pegasus. It was clear to him that she didn’t let things phase her, that she took things in her stride. Most of all she was calm and showed him and his pony their due. “It is difficult to make it out your way, but there is a fishing conference in Vanhoover. I shall take time to visit.”
“That would be real nice, and you would be an honoured guest in our home, Mr Artur. But, if you've tamed her and named her already, then wouldn't it be easier for Filigree to stay there with you?”
Artur couldn’t help his sharp green eyes narrowing. The feathers at the back of his neck bristled. A warning, one he didn’t ignore. “Did you learn of griffon culture from Filigree, or from your bridge player?” he wasn’t sure if he was being played or not.
“Silverhawk, Mr Artur. She's a ruthless bridge player and a wonderful dom to her submissive stallion. Filigree made him the loveliest dress to wear. It was strange to see at first, yes, but that was a year ago now.”
“I'm not in Griffonstone, ma’am.” Artur searched the older mare’s face. That he couldn’t see any guile or deception didn’t mean it wasn’t there. But this mare didn’t seem like the cheap players he had encountered at Trixie’s Place. The feathers at his neck lowered slightly. “I have tamed her, but she is wilful, as you say. I have named her, so that she might learn her place. While I will claim her, I will not own her. She shall be trained, and she can tell you about it when she returns to you.”
Rainblossom’s smile faded ever so slightly. For the first time during the call, the mare looked all of her forty two years. The change emphasised the lines on her pleasant face and made her look older. “Truth, Mr Artur.” She said simply, “we were hoping she would find the patron she's looking for and remain in Manehatten. Whinnyapolis is for farmers. Filigree is no farmer. Fashion is as foreign a language here as Prench or Neighponese.”
“Quite blunt, ma'am.” He cast a glance to Filigree, wanting her reaction to what her mother had just said. However, there wasn’t any. He returned his attention to the mare on the screen. He recognised open honesty when he saw it, and his respect for her increased by several degrees.
“We're water suppliers to the farmers. We live simply and talk straight.” Rainblossom paused long enough for Filigree to let out a pleasured moan before she continued, “If she stays in Whinnyapolis, she will stagnate. She won't fulfil her dream, and to see her talent wasted making farm workwear would just break my heart.”
Artur believed her. “Time will tell, ma’am.” He gave the older mare a polite nod of his head. “For now, we need to move on. It was a pleasure to talk with you.”
“And to you, Mr Artur. Clear horizons to you both.”
Once the video call had been disconnected, Artur pulled back and slipped off the seating pad, creating some distance between himself and his pony. His green eyes narrowed dangerously. “I will not be manipulated, Filigree.”
At last, the white unicorn opened her eyes, mostly because the calming stroking motions had stopped and partly due to the sharp edge in his deep rumbling voice. “Wh-What?” she blinked like she was waking up, “I'm not...I wasn't, I haven’t…I've never manipulated anything!”
Artur was inclined to believe her. After all, she had already showed him her true self. That was why he had tamed her in the first place. But, he’d had his feathers burned before. “What of the mantra you, and now your mother, said? Tame, Name, Claim.”
“What of it?” Filigree wasn’t scared by his narrow eyed stare. She stood up on the seating pad, hopped off and marched up to his much taller front and stared him down. “My griffon knowledge comes from Ms Silverhawk. Twice weekly she meets my ma and pa on my uncle Cornflower’s farm, and they drink and play bridge all night long. She uses her stallion as a seat, and as a maid, if she chooses to. I got curious about the whole thing, and she loves to talk about Griffonstone and griffons. Like, seriously she won’t shut up once she starts. I suppose she filled my head all up with griffon. Made it all sound romantic. I won't lie, I wanted what they have.”
For a few moments longer, Artur held the narrowed stare, until it was clear she wasn’t going to shy away from him or babble out senseless pleas of forgiveness. His pony had courage and nerve, as well as an honesty he couldn’t help but believe. His stare softened, a smile appeared on his beak and affectionately he stroked her back. “Use caution before you hit me with any more of what you think is griffon law,” he advised her gently, “I am the Master here.” A fact he reminded her of with a flex of his talons on her cutie marks. “Now, what do you have to show Coco? We will see her before she opens the store.”
“Oh, yes! My work!” Filigree lit her horn and levitated over a large wheeled suitcase, which was easily as big as she was. Her magic peeled open the top, revealing the inside was split into three vertical compartments with a hanger rail running the length. From the first, she floated out a set of workwear that consisted of dungarees and a shirt. From the second compartment, she took a simple but elegant black dress with silver highlights. Holding the two different outfits, she turned to the bed.
Since she had left open the case, Artur leant in, his curiosity getting the better of him. Looking past the clothes, his attention was drawn to the third compartment. There, was stored a whole host of kinky sex toys. He was pleased, if perhaps surprised, to see the collection included an eight inch remote dildo, a six inch remote butt plug, a wide O and bright red ball gags, a black blindfold, a tail raiser, a complete set of hoof cuffs with variable chain, different lengths of ropes and several quick release locks. “I don't think I've seen that line in her store.”
“What?” setting down the chosen outfits, Filigree turned and looked where her Master was pointing. “Oh. Oh those. Well, a mare's got needs, ya know? I thought I'd be taking care of myself while I was here.”
“Free time is over,” Artur announced simply, before he started to walk to the hotel room door without looking back. “Let's go.”
“Got it, Master!” cheerfully, Filigree used her magic to fold up the workwear and the dress and place them into her saddlebags, which she then set on her back after dressing herself in a simple green dress and socks.
Once she was ready, Artur led his charge out of the hotel and to the subway, which he took all the way to Times Square. There, he made sure to get a monthly pass for Filigree. After that, the destination was the stop near Rarity’s Recreations.
“Wow!” Filigree breathed as she set hoof on the sidewalk, “Coco Pommel!” she was finding it hard to believe she was going to meet one of her fashion heroes. “Okay,” she told herself, “I can do this!”
Artur laughed, while the unicorn giggled nervously at his side. “Plaid Stripes is a good fashion mare. She serves the common pony as she says. Affordable. Coco is where most of the herd shop, then again, they are not a poor bunch. You saw what Mapper and Serenity were wearing.”
“Yeah. I did see,” Filigree blushed noticeably as she cast her mind back to the frankly amazing outfits the two unicorns had been wearing the night before. Doubt assailed her mind. “But, my stuff's good too!”
The griffon chose not to say anything to that, instead he led her on a two block walk until he passed the front of the shop and around to the side, where he knocked on a closed door. “Okay. I can do this, I can do this!” she spoke more to herself than to her partner, though she did lean heavily into his side, amazed that she wasn’t trembling with nerves.
A moment later, the door opened to reveal a brown earth pony stallion. “Can I help you?”
“Is Coco in?” asked Artur, marshalling his pony at his side.
“You have an appointment?” the earth pony asked, looking the two over impassively.
“I was with Mapper last night, and I'm a friend of the herd.” Artur stated, as if he was showing his credentials, “She introduced me to this unicorn, Filigree, though she may know her as Black Lace, of Whinnyapolis.”
The earth pony stallion looked solemnly from mare to griffon and then, he obviously made up his mind everything was on the up and up. “You may wait inside, and I'll see if she will see you.”
As they walked in, side by side, Filigree took several long, deep breathes to try and keep her nerves in check. She barely succeeded. They ended up in a small delivery room with two doors out and no seating pads. The pony who greeted them went out the door opposite the one they had entered by. “You have nothing to say?”
“Lots!” filigree squeaked in response to the griffon’s slightly amused question. “But...nerves! Many nerves. I'm focusing on not making an ass of myself. This is like going to that club last night, but times a hundred!”
The earth pony returned a few moments later. “You may wait in the reception area. She will see you in fifteen minutes.” With that, the two followed the stallion’s bright red tail into another room. “My name is Silk Rose. I'll bring refreshment for you.” He then left out another door, leaving them alone in a room with a few scattered seating pads, two low tables, and several ponykins with nothing on them.
“I'm in Coco Pommel's shop!” Filigree couldn’t help but let out a loud squee. “I'm going to meet Coco Pommel! Oh...” she performed a happy four hoof dance, “Oh my!” Artur said nothing, he simply pointed to the empty ponykins, and to his wrist. “Oh right. My work! I should get them ready!” she levitated out the workwear first and dressed one of the ponykins, making sure it was set just right, before doing the same with the black dress.
Fussing with the finer details of the dress, Filigree just managed to get her arrangements done with barely a minute to spare. In fact, she just finished pulling up the last of the socks on the one with the dress when the door opened and in walked Silk Rose followed by Coco Pommel! “Hello Artur,” she greeted him with a pleasant smile, “You’re not a fashion griffon, if I remember. As for you,” she cast a look at the unicorn, “I can only see that you entered. Are you a friend of the herd too?”
“He-Heya ma'am, I...” Filigree struggled to keep her rampant nerves under control, but it wasn’t easy. She was talking to one of the top fashion ponies in the country! Her! “I know Airmail, a-and last night I met Mapper and... ooh boy, Serenity too!”
“She is good at name dropping,” Artur stepped forward and, with a roll of his eyes, he stroked his fretting pony’s back, “but she is not a friend of the herd. I will be taking her to the fun night later tonight.”
That caught Coco’s attention. “Oh, so she is into that?” It wasn’t surprising, really. That whole game was the herd’s schtick. Curious as to the garments on her ponykins, she stepped up to inspect them. She looked over the workwear clothing. “Not high fashion, but it looks durable. Whinnyapolis farmers?”
“Yes ma'am,” Filigree puffed out her chest, proud of her work. “I made the linen with flax, spun through with orchard orb weaver spider thread. For the durability.”
“Hm, I believe flax in that area is readily available,” commented Coco as she ran a hoof over the shirt and dungarees. She could feel the texture of the fabric in her hooves, as well as something else. She assumed it was the spider thread. “Pretty exact in processing. How did you get spiders to assist you?”
“Flax is the waste product of the farming process,” began Filigree was justifiably proud of the way she used what was a waste product in her clothing, something that would have just been tossed away. “And, I get the spiders to assist, because my shop is in a barn on my uncle's farm. Which is crawling with them. They keep down the other pests, and I get their thread.”
Nodding, Coco moved over to the other ponykin, her sharp eye for detail lighting up when she saw the dress. “And this?”
“I make this for fun. Same process with making the linen, along with the spider thread. I just added a few extra steps in processing the flax. Makes finery that's as durable and tough as work wear.”
“Wait,” Coco paused, her hoof stroking the fine black dress with its silver threaded highlights. It was hard to believe this was made of the same fabric as the workwear. “You used flax in this too?”
“Yes ma'am. I use it in everything I make. It's che...” Filigree paused and blushed, catching herself in mid flow, “I mean, affordable.”
Coco’s laugh was bright, and it lit up the room. “Inexpensive, is the word you’re looking for, dear. Now, Silk here told me your name is Filigree?”
“Yes ma'am. Formerly Black Lace. I'm attending the expo.”
Coco nodded, her mind casting back over the forms she’d witnessed. “I looked at the entry list, which is how I found Black Lace.” As one of the ‘leading the way’ designers, she was playing co-host along with Rarity.
“She wishes to rebrand from her home town boutique of Lace for Grace to Filigree's Fashions. May I ask a personal question?” asked Artur, who hadn’t stopped stroking his pony’s back.
“You may,” Coco said, her attention solely on the fine work that had gone into the dress, “but I reserve the right to not answer.”
Filigree looked from her Master to Coco, who felt her heart beating like a cannon now that she wasn’t speaking. “This mare is thinking of moving to Manehatten. How much did this location cost you?” he rather hated having to pour cold reality on his pony, but she had to hear this.
“Personal indeed,” Coco considered the question, and didn’t see any reason to not answer. “I did buy it fifteen years ago, for eighty million bits. It’ll be paid off soon. I could turn it around right now, for two hundred million bits today.”
Hearing that, Filigree’s dark blue eyes went impossibly wide, her pupils reduced to tiny pinpricks. Her jaw hung so low that it scraped the floor. “H-Ho-How m-much...” she couldn’t process it. It was way too much. It had cost her a whole year's money just to attend the two week expo and the one week vacation.
“When Rarity bought the shop up on Saddle Row for Plaid,” continued Coco, “she paid six million bits. Quite the steal. Now it would sell for thirty million bits.”
“I-I…I-I work in a barn…” Filigree stammered and dropped her rear heavily onto the floor.
“Rarity For You is just the ground floor of a three story building?” asked Artur, and when Coco nodded, he resumed the stroking of his pony’s back. “Any suggestions for this farmgirl to make it in the big city?”
“Stay away from Manehatten,” said Coco quickly turning away from the ponykin and the dress. “She's a unicorn and you're a griffon, so I'd avoid the Broncs. As a unicorn, she'd fit in to Celestia, but a shop like Plaid’s would be about fifteen million. Brooks would work, but it’s far out from downtown. Still maybe four to six million. Cheaper closer to the wharf. Stallion Island is good, but farthest out. I think they only have big box stores like Marecy’s. Still around four to six million depending on location.”
“Wharf? Why would it be cheaper there?” Filigree had almost recovered from the sustained heavy fire of the impossibly big numbers to make her brain work.
At that, Coco and Artur both laughed, “I'm sure you've made the trip to Vanhoover?” asked the earth pony.
Filigree shook her head, looking down at her hooves as she spoke. “This is my first time outside Whinnyapolis.” The clawed hand stroking her back didn’t seem to be having much of an effect anymore.
“On your way back, jump off at Vanhoover just to experience Cannery Row.” Coco smirked, knowing full well why the area was so much cheaper than the others. It was something one had to experience it for themselves.
“I'm taking her to Brooks, so she can experience it there,” grinned Artur, and Coco nodded in response. “Why Stallion Island is nice. North side is the cheapest. I'd say nothing further south and Scoops place. Good ice cream that.”
“Yeah,” Filigree simply sat where she was and stroked one hoof along the other foreleg. She couldn’t help wondering what in the wide world she was even doing there.
Coco recognised the tell-tale look of a pony shrinking into herself when she looked at Filigree. She’d seen it in herself way back when she’d been with Suri. “I'm guessing backers in Winny would be a problem? Are you willing to work for a named designer?”
“Backers?” Filigree almost laughed as she looked up from the floor, “I didn't know numbers went that high.” That said, she knew what she had to do, if she wanted to stand any kind of chance out here. “I can work for somepony else, ma'am.”
“Then do well at the show,” said Coco simply, like it was obvious. “You’ll need a good write up for your line. Eco friendly, Self-sustaining, things like that. When it’s your turn you can have up to twelve models. You have enough items? Both of these that you brought will do well.”
“Yes ma'am, I have more like these in my hotel room. Bridles and corsets as well as socks, dresses and dungarees.”
“Working for somepony else will mean an internship. Mine was a mess with Suri Polomare,” Coco’s eyes went hard for a brief moment. Her own disaster had been decades ago, and it still stung her. “Not all are like that. You will put together their designs for four to eight months. Then they will give you display space for your own work. After Suri, I interned for Rarity and here I am today.”
“I know your story ma'am,” replied Filigree, “it's been printed in Vogue and Cosmarepolitan at least three times.” She let out a sigh, “I'll do whatever I need to, work under whoever. I know I'm not gonna have my own place out here.”
“Yet,” amended Coco gently. “I was five years before I got this place. Of course, I did have backers.”
“Well pet,” Artur hadn’t stopped stroking his pony’s back, offering reassurance and comfort along with the harsh dose of reality. “Do you know what your challenges are?”
“My challenges?” Filigree snorted, “No backers, no bits, and I don't exist outside of a nowhere town in nowhere, Equestria.”
“Going to give up on your dream?”
‘Why shouldn't I give up?’ Filigree thought to herself, ‘I can't do this! I don't belong here! I don't even belong in this store!’ Just as she was going to say that out loud, she thought of her mother, and of her grandmother. She thought of what she had told Mapper the day before. She didn’t like to lose. “No,” she answered, “Not give up. Just...change it. I won't have my own store yet, but I will.”
“Self-doubt will be your end,” Coco smiled warmly, then she checked the time and sighed. She could have talked to this mare all day, but work called to her. “I have a store to open. Silk will assist you out the back. I wish you well.”
After Filigree thanked Coco for her time, Silk Rose cleaned up the refreshments while the unicorn put away her samples back in her saddlebags. When they were ready, the earth pony escorted them both out of the back door. Outside, surrounded by all the towering buildings and skyscrapers, the small town mare felt like everything was three times bigger while she was absolutely microscopic.
Without a word, Artur led Filigree around to the front of the store that had just opened and in through the doors. The unicorn only realised she was in the same store when the door closed behind her. “Well hello Artur,” Silk Rose beamed a knowing smile, “that was quick.”
“I'm in need of earrings,” Artur grinned and shared the joke with the salespony. “I’d rather shop here than over at Barnyard Bargains.” At the griffon’s side, Filigree was only vaguely aware what was going on. Her mind was still elsewhere.
Silk Rose showed off a variety of earrings from a case he lifted down. Artur spent a good few moments choosing. This was after all important to him. Finally, he saw what he wanted. They were shaped like little corsets, and they came in a variety of colours. “The blue ones,” he smiled, recalling she wore blue the night before. “She just needs one, but I'll buy the pair so she can change them out.”
‘Come on, Fili, get your bucking head up!’ Filigree chastised herself and she shook her head hard, forcing herself to stand up straighter, hold her head up higher and get her mind back where it should be. “Thank you, Master.”
Artur held out the corset earring in the palm of his claw. “Put it on.” He watched her take the offering in her dark blue magical aura and float it up to the piercing made at the top of her left ear.
“That takes care of ‘tamed’,” Artur smirked, then he reached out with his other clawed hand and gently he lifted up her chin until she was looking him in the eyes. The other claw grasped her ear and held it firm. Then, his beak opened, he leant in, and the sharp tip created the second piercing.
With the second piercing taken care of, Artur licked the blood from his beak and turned back to the selection of earrings. This time he chose ones in the shape of a lace heart. “Thank you, Mr Rose.” The griffon then led his pony along to the counter where the earth pony rang up the bill. As far as he was concerned, it was one hundred and sixty bits well spent. With a cheerful ‘thank you for shopping at Rarity’s Recreations’, he led the way back outside into the now midday sun.
“Thank you, Master, for the earrings,” Filigree had lowered her head, she couldn’t help getting the ‘everything's very big and she's tiny’ feeling again.
“I live in this city,” Artur said over his shoulder to her as he crossed the street and headed to the subway stop. “Let the facts sink in, and then overcome them.”
“I get it, I really do,” she let out a sigh that came from the depths of her hooves, “I just...I didn't realise how out of my depth I really am.”
Casting a glance over his shoulder at her, he felt a degree of sympathy for her plight. “You jumped in what you thought was another pond. Turned out to be the ocean.” Once upon a time, it had been him who was new in a big, strange and sometimes hostile city. “Now, we go to Brooks.”
“Yeah,” Filigree forced her head up and a smile onto her face. It was a 'not to be defeated' kind of look, but it was there, nonetheless. Even so, she walked very close to Artur's side. His body heat went a long way to calming her. “Brooks.” She forced her brain to work, “The wharf's out that way?”
“Very good, pet.” Artur took the few seconds to give his pony a caress of her cheek and a warm smile. “Now put your earring in while we wait for the subway car. Brooks is a nice mixed pony neighbourhood. There is a small griffon enclave. Mostly fishing boats. Cargo port is outside the city.”
“You work out of the wharf, right?” Filigree waited until they were at the station to magically insert the lace earring into the piercing her Master’s beak had created. “I remember you saying when we walked to that club.” When they were on the train, seated side by side, she said, “I really should thank you. I needed that reality check.”
“You also needed to know it can be overcome, my pet.” Artur didn’t mind that the unicorn took the window seat. “Plaid did, as did Coco. Filigree can do it too. Location is the challenge for you. Tonight, you will see Stallion Island.”
Relaxing into the seat, Filigree lightly rested her head on her impossibly strong griffon’s shoulder. It felt good there, like it was where it belonged. “You didn't have to be so brutal with it though,” she chuckled softly, adding a little nuzzle.
“It seemed an inhibitor was the simplest way,” Artur commented with a tiny shrug of his shoulders. He was careful the shrug wasn’t so forceful that it dislodged his pony’s head from its current perch.
Filigree couldn’t help but giggle, all the while making sure her head stayed where it was. “It’s okay. I needed it to be brutal. I've always been a ‘rip off the band-aid’ type of pony.”
“I'll be sure to remember that, my lovely pet.” For an instant, Artur had an image of his unicorn restrained and helpless, her body covered in band-aids. The image was completed when he saw himself ripping off each and every one, taking white fur with it and making her scream so loud and so often it was like he was playing her like she was an instrument. “Of course, you validated the last thing I remembered.”
“Oh?”
“A box display against a window.”
For a very quick moment, Filigree moved her head and looked up at Artur, though from her angle she only got a side look at his face. She tried to be serious, but her expression devolved into a grin. “I very nearly said ‘Stitch’ when you had me in that coffin pressed up against the glass.”
Artur laughed, his deep rumbling laugh matching his voice. The closeness his pet was achieving with him was a little disconcerting, but he didn’t have the heart to push her away. “With that magical burst you made, I didn't think you were thinking at all. You chose fight over flight, and it was delicious!”
“Lucky me, I remembered I was a unicorn!” the white mare joined in the laughter, only too happy to snuggle herself into the fur of his legs. She missed the tension in his body. “The look on your face when I turned and faced you. Totally worth these scars and a sore, aching back.”
“It was a worthy kick,” Artur stroked his pony’s withers and shoulder with his powerful brown / grey wing. “Others taught me that grabbing the horn will paralyze a unicorn for a few seconds. Long enough for a wing sweep.”
“Well, they weren't wrong.” Filigree couldn’t really argue the opposite, when that exact thing had happened. “And it's nice to know my Equido lessons weren't totally wasted.” She giggled, “The best bit was when you gentled me in the showers. The way you washed and brushed my mane and coat...the way you spoke to me while you were doing it. You made me feel like the only mare there.”
“It's called 'aftercare', my dear.” Artur rolled his piercing green eyes, though it was a playful expression. “Still, I made you walk to the doc pony and to the showers.”
“I know what it's called,” Filigree giggle-sighed. “You tested my spirit and then you brushed my mane and my coat until your arm ached.” She didn’t say the rest of what she wanted to. It wasn’t necessary. They both knew what the griffon had done was way above just ‘aftercare’. Instead of saying it, she angled her head up and kissed Artur's feathered cheek.
That simple act left Artur uncharacteristically flustered. He was accustomed to dominating mares, but this…he was starting to actually care for her, beyond his duties as a dominant. This was territory he hadn’t tread in two years. Not since ‘her’. “We change trains here to go south,” he said curtly, “North is the Broncs. Been a while since a unicorn was accepted in there.”
Next to him, Filigree noted the abrupt change of subject, and the change in the griffon’s tone, but she just filed it away for later. She got the idea this wasn’t the best time to pry. Not that it was any of her business. “Doesn't sound like a friendly place.”
“Zebras are a clannish lot,” explained Artur, who was happy to replace his wing around the mare’s shoulder. It felt good there. Like it belonged. Maybe this wasn’t so bad to take a gamble on, after all. “Celestia is full of unicorns, but mostly the spoiled rich youth that like to mess with zebras. Caffy from the coffee shop will tell you the same. We will pass through Celestia on the way to Brooks. As long as I'm a tourist, they tolerate me there.”
“This is all very new and strange,” Filigree looked out of the window at the passing scenery, “Sounds like creatures stick to their lanes.”
“Stallion Island, Manehatten, and Brooks are a montage of ponies. For non-ponies, we sort of stay in our little neighbourhoods.” Artur smiled at the warmth her body gave him in the huddle. “It makes services a lot easier, like food and such.”
As he held her close to him, and as she snuggled against his fur and feathers, Artur was reminded yet again that his little Filigree was not ‘her’. She was worthy of him.
On the subway train, Artur pointed out, “This is the stop to change trains for Stallion Island. My place is one more stop along.” He was rather pleased, if a little surprised, to see his pony was still snuggled into his side. He barely heard her let out a content ‘hmhmm’. “This is our stop,” he announced a little later. “Coltaro College.”
Only Artur getting up and getting off the train prompted Filigree to move herself. She instantly missed the warmth of his feathers and fur. Quickly she scampered off the train walked at his heel. “So, this is Brooks, right?”
After they had passed through the turnstile and had moved up the escalator and finally were finally on the sidewalk above the station, Artur finally answered her. “Yes,” he pointed to the station sign, “This is Crops Street. West is the bay and my boat and townhouse. East is moving into town.”
Artur headed west, and Filigree didn’t argue or think. She was at his heel almost instantly. “Oh wow. You own a boat? Can I see it? Can I? Please can I see the boat?”
“I will take it under consideration,” there was a playful smirk on the griffon’s beak. He loved the way his pony walked at his heel. He loved even more her exuberance and eagerness. “It's not as big as your Whinnyapolis ocean liners.”
“Thank you, Master.” Filigree thought there was a joke hidden in what he said, but she couldn’t be sure, so she decided not to worry about it. Instead, she walked at his heel with a little prance in her step.
As they walked along together, the unicorn did notice the smell of the ocean, and the fish, got noticeably stronger. Filigree paused where she was and took a long, long deep breath. “That's new. You don't get smells like that at home.”
“And now you know why property is cheaper near the water.”
“Why?” Filigree was a little mystified, “Because it smells a bit of fish?”
“Yes,” Artur grinned, because he knew what she obviously did not. That the smell was only going to get more and more pungent and unpleasant from here. “Not a lot of ponies eat fish. We sell to the griffon and the hippogriff communities. A number of pegasi like fish too, but most of what we catch ends up as pet food. The cannery is south, and the wind normally blows out of the northwest.”
“Well, I like it.” Filigree stated assuredly, “It's different to what I usually smell. Cornflower and wheat and grass are so boring.”
“Check that,” Artur’s smirk returned, along with an idea for a punishment should the need arise. “Trip to cannery will follow.” As he spoke, he turned right to walk down a row of townhouses. “This is mine. One, eight, eight nine Shore Drive. Remember it.” He then pointed towards the west, “That elevated road is Shore Parkway. At least the trees help hide it and the noise.”
“One, eight, eight, nine Shore Drive, I got it.” Filigree looked to the west where Artur’s talon was pointing. “Is that where we're going?”
“The docks are on the other side of the parkway.” Artur led the way under the bypass. Almost as soon as they crossed over, the fishy smell was even stronger than it was before.
“Spin my horseshoes!” Filigree wrinkled her white nose a little and she even covered her muzzle with a hoof. “You never said it got stronger…” she muttered, then she saw off a fair ways a row of stores selling various fresh catches.
Beside her, Artur inhaled a deep breath. “This is life and money. Now, even I can only take so much of the cannery.” Continuing on, he led the way past the businesses and onto a long wide wooden pier. “Mine is the Askold, fifth one down.”
“I get that. I suppose it doesn't matter as long as we earn a living. Money to me is the smell of fabric and spiders.” Filigree walked the length of the pier until she reached the boat. It was eighty feet long, twenty feet wide sleek griffon made boat. “It looks amazing! Askold,” she noted the name painted on the bright orange hull. “Is there any meaning to that?”
“Askold was the name of a legendary griffon hero. He lived eight hundred years ago. He was responsible for the founding of Griffonstone after he cleared out the monsters. Come on board.” He looked around the apparently empty deck of the trawler. Without warning, he called out, “Pietro, Dimitri!”
Filigree stepped up onto the wooden deck of the fishing boat and giggled like an excited filly. “It's like the floor is moving! There was a fun fair ride like this!” she felt the ocean move the boat, and she couldn’t stop smiling.
A more high pitched voice, muffled by being below deck, called out from somewhere inside the boat. “Down here Arty! I’m fixing the bilge pump!”
“Again?” Artur grumbled and rolled his green eyes to the skies. “Wait here, Filigree, I'll be back in a moment.” Muttering to himself, the tall muscular griffon entered the hold.
“Hey Arty,” Pietro, a sandy brown griffon with a crest of jet-black feathers, and Artur’s younger brother by four years, greeted his sibling with a closed fist bump. “I lost the coin toss and got bilge duty and Dimi's gone to get steak slices from the market for lunch.”
Artur stepped up alongside his younger brother and stared at the malfunctioning equipment. He was grateful Pietro was as mechanically gifted as he was, it saved them no end of bits. “When will it be cheaper to replace instead of fixing this thing?”
“When I can't fix her anymore,” came Pietro’s reply. The griffon wore his overalls covered in oil smudges with pride, “Trust me bro, Bertha's got a lot of life in her yet, just got to treat her right, and not let Dimi overwork her.”
High above the row of ships and boats, flying in the cloudless blue sky, the jet black form of Dimitri made his way towards the Askold. When he was close, his sharp eyes detected movement. A pony snooping alone on the deck! That meant only one thing in his mind. “Thief…” he snarled and angled his wings to dive straight down.
Far below, Filigree was only alerted to the rapidly descending griffon when she heard the whistling of a rapid descent. “Wha...” she looked up and waved at the griffon as he got increasingly closer.
The griffon did not wave back. He got closer, and he extended his viciously sharp claws, ready to attack in a mere matter of seconds. It was only thanks to her Equido training and her dancing skill that she was able to dodge out of the way at the very last second, the unicorn performing bit of a sliding move to one side. “What gives?”
Dimitri landed on a hind paw and the jet black griffon spun on a wing, ready to lunge again. Filigree used her magic to levitate a crate from the side so that it was in between her and the attacking griffon. “I have permission to be here!”
“Thief!” Dimitri snarled, not hearing what the pony said. There was no way she was supposed to be on the deck. No way, no how, not a pony and especially not a unicorn! Angrily, he batted the crate away, breaking it on the guard rail and scattering the contents over the deck. In the same move, he swiped at the mare’s foreleg.
“Hold Brother, what are you doing?” Artur, alerted by the sound of the fight, demanded of his youngest brother as he reappeared on the deck.
“I caught this thief skulking around on the deck!” Dimitri held himself in a ‘ready’ pose, prepared to shred the pony up so small the sharks wouldn’t have to chew.
“Did you stop to think it might be a client?” asked Artur as he stepped in between his sibling and his pony.
“It's a unicorn!” scoffed Dimitri, waving his claws in a rude gesture, disbelieving utterly that his brother would have anything to do with one of those.
“And what does our cousin think of unicorns?” asked Artur, not backing down from his brother. While Dimitri wavered, Artur turned his attention to his pony, and he checked the wound on her left foreleg. “Brother, you're paying for the crate and what was in it.”
“But she…”
“Quiet,” Artur cut across Dimitri, silencing him without once raising his voice. He pointed to the door that led below. “Go to the galley and prep the steaks.” He was satisfied when his brother went below, grumbling only just under his breath, “It’s shallow, there’s a first aid kit here on deck.”
While Artur retrieved the kit and attended to her wound, Filigree trembled, hissing as the treatment was applied that would stop her foreleg getting infected. “I wasn't doing anything, I swear!” she squeaked, “I was just looking around. I didn't even touch anything!”
“My youngest brother is an act first and maybe think later type of griffon,” Artur judged the shallow cuts caused by Dimitri’s talons didn’t need dressing, just cleaning. “I'm going to guess that pork steak is not to your liking?”
“Not my first choice, no.” Filigree shook her head and forced herself to be calm. “So, what's his problem with unicorns?”
“I don't have a single unicorn client,” said Artur simply, not wanting to go into the real reason why his youngest brother hated unicorns. “Also, he went to Celestia, and a gang shouted insults at him and well, stuff festers.” In his mind’s eye, he saw Starsong, the last mare he ever wanted to have dealings with ever again.
“If it's going to be a problem, I can just go,” Filigree pointed back to where she knew the subway station was, pretty sure she’d be able to find her way back to her hotel on her own.
“No, you will not,” Artur shook his head. “Have you eaten fish?”
“Of course, mostly at the harvest festivals, but yes, Master.” After the fight, and after she had been attended to, Filigree remembered that her Free time was still not in effect, and Artur was due his title.
“Pietro, Dimitri up top!” literally seconds after Artur had barked the command, the two younger griffons appeared from the open hatch. When he spoke, he spoke directly at Dimitri. “I'm taking my pet out to eat, so enjoy the steaks. Pietro, make sure your brother's cooking doesn't catch the boat on fire.”
“Your pet?” snarled Dimitri, who earned himself a slap from Pietro’s wing.
“See you tomorrow, for the trip out.” Pietro, the more sensible of the younger brothers, said before Dimitri could say anything.
“You will,” Artur nodded as he turned and led his pony off of the boat.
“His pet?” Dimitri turned a dumbfounded look to Pietro, who simply shrugged his shoulders, “After all the crap we had to deal with the last time?”
Oblivious to the argument between the two brothers, Filigree hurried off the deck of the Askold. Like before, she walked right at the heel of her Master, keeping close to his side. “Is... everything alright?” she asked nervously.
“Yes, my youngest brother thinks he knows best.” He was pleased to see that in spite of her wound, shallow as it was, his pet pony still walked with a prance in her step. He led along the pier and into a building next to the fish vendor. “You allergic to any food?”
“No Master. Not allergic. I don't like celery very much, and I've never had meat.”
Curiously, Artur tilted his head and gave her a ‘look’. “Um, you do know that fish is meat, right pet?”
“I know it is,” Filigree rolled her eyes and giggled, “I meant proper 'meat', meat. like the pork you mentioned.”
That made sense to him, and the griffon nodded his head. “Snowclaw!” he called out, getting the attention of a female griffon with snow white feathers and pale icy blue fur. “Double portion of Fruit de la mer alfredo please!”
After he made the order, Filigree walked with her Master to an empty table where they took up seating pads opposite each other. “Thank you, for the lunch, Master.”
“I noted you didn't fall for my ocean liner joke,” Artur smiled, “You’ve never been on a boat in something larger than a lake?”
“No, Master,” she cast a glance to her left, to the impossibly vast expanse of water that was the north and south Celestia Seas. The great barrier that separated Equestria from Griffonstone and the Dragonlands. “I suppose the Celestia Sea counts as a big lake?”
Artur laughed out loud, “If you can't see land, it isn't a lake, my pet.”
“Alright, no then. I'm a typical farm girl, I suppose.” Filigree grinned, “Red Lake is pretty big though. It even has a cute little ferry on it.” Though she realised now she couldn’t really compare a three hundred acre lake to the ocean.
“To the north is the ferry port,” Artur pointed in the vague direction with his index talon. “Subway is cheaper if it goes there. Some things are best seen by the ferry. Been to the Statue of Harmony yet?”
“Yes!” Filigree squealed in glee, “I saw that on Tuesday, that was so big, and cool, and the Maresler building too! I mean, wow was that big! Pretty sure it’s the biggest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Good,” Artur gestured to the menu, “What I ordered has squid, octopus, scallops, and mussels. I know the pasta and cream sauce will be good for you. Try everything, but not more than once if you don't like it.”
“Got it. Oh, and I know it hasn't come up yet, but it might, so, a head's up. I don't drink anything alcoholic. I get crazy drunk real quick, and then dumb stuff happens.”
“Noted.”
“Oh yeah,” Filigree giggle-snorted at the memory, “at last year's summer harvest festival, a lot of homemade beer was consumed, and a lot of mistakes were made. Like, I would've totally lifted my tail for this mare if Sandstorm hadn't intervened.”
“Alcohol wasn't on your list,” pointed out Artur as he cast his mind back to when he met the unicorn. “Was she at least, a pretty mare?”
“To be honest,” Filigree thought hard, but try as she might, the memory would not come. “I was thinking about sexy time things. And... I think she was pretty? I really don’t remember her. Sandy said she went home to Vanhoover the day after. Apparently, she was there for her family's harvest. At that point, I was recovering from a Maaaaassive hangover.”
You” may have tea with this meal,” Artur certainly wasn’t going to force anything on her that she wasn’t comfortable with. “Snowclaw, a pitcher of iced tea with the meal.”
~ ~ ~
To Artur’s great surprise, Filigree ate everything that he had ordered for them. She made short work of the squid, octopus, scallops, and even the mussels. Now, they were sat on the wooden bench enjoying a third refill of iced tea in the afternoon sun. All in all, it was shaping up to be a very pleasant day.
“Provided Pietro gets the bilge pump fixed,” started Artur as he took a drink of his tea, “they’ll sail on the evening tide, and return in the morning. But, for us, tonight is the BDSM night over at Caffeinated's place on Stallion Island.”
Filigree sat and mulled that over. Both clauses. There was going to be a bondage party at the zebra’s place, and she was invited, apparently. But, the other thing he said drew her attention first. “You'll only sail though if your brother fixes the pump, right?”
“They will sail if it is fixed,” Artur nodded, “I go to make sure they don't goof off, but I don't need to go. They are good hunters, and they know their work.”
“I could take a look, if you want?” offered Filigree, albeit cautiously. “I'm good at fixing things. I help my uncle with his farm equipment all the time, like the tractor engines, the oil pumps, fuel filters, hydraulic lines, you name it.”
Shaking his head, Artur held up a taloned finger. “First, I don't help him. Pietro is the mechanic, and I won't challenge his honour, but I do offer to replace it. Plus, Dimitri would tease him about it forever. Pietro will fix it, and they will sail. We can go tomorrow, as we do sail each weekday.”
“Alright,” Filigree bowed her head in defeat, “I get it, I don't want to step on your brother's paws. So, if I'm sailing with you tomorrow night, what are we doing tonight?” she had heard him say a BDSM night, but that could mean anything. And anything covered a lot of bases.
“Much like yesterday,” Artur smiled as he emptied his mug, his mind wandering to the past nights he’d attended at Caffienated’s ranch. They had all been different, and they had all been an experience, “but not as extreme. Plus, there will be food and drink.”
“Are we going back to that club we went to last night?”
“No,” Artur’s sharp eyes caught the shadow that crossed his pony’s dark blue eyes, clouded her fair features, “this is a much friendlier place. The club last night is for the extreme, and not always with love. This place is for love in the extreme.”
“Good,” Filigree didn’t bother to contain or suppress the shudder that shook her from her ears to her tail, “that place yesterday was...it was icky.” She couldn’t think of a better term to use. The whole place had been unsettling, unnerving, and icky, right from the start. Before she was put in the coffin.
While she shuddered, Artur laughed, “It was sort of a test. One that you passed, my pretty pet.”
“I gathered as much,” Filigree smiled in such a way that her whole face lit up, “Although, if you'd ordered me to have a drink in that bar, I might've safe worded out right there. I don't think that bartender knew what the word 'clean' meant. “
Now that, Artur was in agreement with her. There had been a reason he hadn’t finished the beer he had ordered. He was sure he could taste the other ponies on that tankard. “You will like the place tonight, of course you may not make the boat tomorrow either.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Filigree grinned, “I quite like the Red Lake ferry.” As if the ferry over a lake a few hundred acres across was in any way the same as going out on the open ocean. “I bet I'll be okay. This place later. What should I expect? Are there any rules I should know?”
“Don't kill any creature.” Artur held her gaze as seriously as he could for a few long seconds before he burst out into snickering giggles. “No pranking without at least three herd members, and if you want to fuck some creature other than me, you have to ask. You can always say no if you are asked.”
“I don't really like pranks, even Broadside leaves me alone back home,” Filigree’s eyes went a little wide at the idea he had proposed to her. “Why would I want to do it with anyone other than you?”
“You asked me for the rules,” Artur shrugged, “there they are. Do you like gaming?” he switched lanes abruptly on purpose.
“I do!” Filigree cried out gleefully, clapping her forehooves together, “I'm pretty good at monopoly, the zebra trail and dragon pit. Ooh, and I love Ogres and Oubliettes!”
“That themed night is in two weeks,” Artur noted that all the examples she had given were board games. He surmised from that, that she didn’t own a games console or if she did, she didn’t use it very much. “Now, I'll give you a tour of the boat, and we leave at five thirty for the party tonight.”
“Alright!” Filigree was practically dancing up on her hooves as she stretched her long legs. “Do you play O&O?”
“No,” Artur smiled as he led the way out of the pier diner and back towards the swaying row of moored boats a short distance away, “I play Pony Rebellion. I side with the Celestiaites.”
“I love O&O! It's a lot of fun! I have a level seven unicorn rogue and bard character I really like to use, I even have a cape and everything!”
Walking beside her on the wooden walkway, Artur couldn’t help but find her enthusiasm infectious and endearing. “Maybe I'll check it out.” He promised vaguely on the way back to his distinctive looking fishing boat.
Without being ordered, Filigree fell into step alongside her Master and she easily walked at his pace. She was also aware that she was getting a little babbly, but she just couldn’t help herself. “Last hearths warming, ma got me a set of purple and white crystal dice, it was so cool!”
“I can tell your mother loves you,” the tall muscular griffon smirked, “even if she wants you out of town.”
“It's not that she wants to get rid of me or anything,” Filigree pointed out as she kept up her pace. “I mean, I'm not that annoying. I think. It's like she said on the phone. If I want anything to do with fashion, and I do, I won't achieve it at home.”
A shrug from the griffon answered her. He’d never been to Whinnyapolis, in fact before yesterday he wasn’t aware it existed. “Tomorrow, you will wear something very fancy, and you will sing a fancy song. Then, you will remove the fancy and wear something plain. Then you will sing a common farm song for me.”
“I'd like that,” as it happened, the unicorn knew of a couple of farming songs, songs her uncle and his workers often sang out in the cornfields when they were harvesting the crops. She stepped in closer to Artur, so that their sides were touching. “Whinnyapolis is a fashion dead zone. That's not to say I don't love my home, I do, it's just...realising I'm gonna have to leave it, it's scary.”
“We will see after Thursday two weeks from now what your next steps will be, my pretty pet.”
“Yeah,” Filigree paused when she saw the sleek griffon fishing boat at its moorings. “Tell me about your boat. You told me why it's called the Askold. Have you had it long, like was it your dad's, or something?”
“He's fourteen years old,” Artur gave a proud look to the bright orange fishing boat, “but I've had it for nine years. My house loaned me half of it, and I'll have them paid back in six years.”
Listening to his every word, Filigree nodded her head, “and are most fishing boats that size?” she asked, looking over the boats swaying beside the pier. Theirs was the only one of griffon design.
“Yes, all the ocean going ones are seventy to one hundred feet, so the Askold is average at eighty feet.”
“Wow, so you go all the way out into the ocean proper?” asked Filigree, who now she was stood at the boat, realised a very stark truth. “On the ocean. With thousands of feet of water under us, and hundreds of sea monsters who can attack at any minute...”
“A sea monster might be tasty,” snickered Artur as he stepped up onto the deck of his beloved boat, “I'd be more worried about catching one of the merfolk.”
“You mean a hippogriff?” asked Filigree, her head cocked to one side as she too alighted the gently swaying deck, “That would be so exciting!”
“Yeah,” Artur said, his expression as deadpan as his voice, “exciting. Right up till they sink the boat.”
“Why would they do that?” Filigree was genuinely puzzled, “If they can't look up and see a net, that's their bad luck, right?”
“It would be because we were doing unauthorized fishing.”
“You aren't, are you?”
Just then, Dimitri emerged from the doors that led to the below decks. In his clawed hands he held one of the steaks he had cooked and was now eating. “No,” he answered the pony’s question, “we've got every license the authorities can invent, but that doesn't stop the hippos claiming what's under the waves as theirs.”
“Hippos,” Artur laughed, “We don't honour them with the Griff part.”
“Which is why we stick to the northern Celestia sea,” stated Dimitri. “Our boundary is Horseshoe Bay. Too far south is disputed waters, thanks to Mount Aris.” The griffon then looked over his older brother. “Where did you go?”
“Snowclaw’s place.”
“Did she eat the fishes?”
“Yes Dimitri,” Filigree snarked, “’She’ did,” she put heavy emphasis on the word ‘she’, “and they were tasty, too.”
“But after that other uni...”
“Enough, Dimitri,” Artur silenced his younger brother as effectively as if he’d reached out and clamped his beak shut with a clawed hand. “Did Pietro get the bilge pump fixed?”
Almost as if using his name had summoned him into being, Pietro appeared on the deck of the fishing boat. “It was pretty easy, without you pestering me.”
Dimitri shot Filigree a sly, calculated look, “You know,” he said in a dangerously snide voice, “after fish, there's only one thing left to try…” tauntingly, the griffon held out the very raw piece of steak to the unicorn.
Filigree’s eyes went wider than the biggest dinner plates. The smell of the meat hit the back of her nose and the look of it alone revulsed her. “What?” she asked as she watched blood dripping along the meat and on to the deck.
“I'm pretty sure you can still fish with a broken wing,” Artur said in a deadpan tone, staring at his younger brother like he was craven prey while Pietro snorted out a cawing laugh and Dimitri popped the meat into his sharp beak.
“Alright, jeez, just having a bit of fun, chill out Arty,” Dimitri shot his laughing brother a stark glare.
“Are you joining us tonight, or do you have your other Thursday plans?” asked Pietro curiously.
“Very much other plans,” Artur confirmed, planning in his mind to take Filigree over to Stallion Island and attend the party at Caffeinated’s ranch, “You won't have to listen to me nag all night. At least till Monday,” he added with a smirk. “Now, we will start the tour on the bridge and end in the engine room. Then we can shower before we go out tonight.”
Filigree watched the disgruntled Dimitri take off, muttering he had to go get something for the boat, then she searched her memory for a piece of information. “The bridge, that's where you control the boat, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Artur began the tour with the bridge and an explanation of the various controls. He took a prideful delight in sharing what the many buttons did, how the radio worked, the functions of the navigator station and the steering wheel. He even let her have a go, to get the feel of it. Then, he showed her the trawling nets and in the hold, he led her first to the galley, then the sleeping area with the hammocks and finally, the engine room.
“Huh,” Filigree thoroughly enjoyed the tour, all the way to the engine room. It was a huge steam powered engine, and it was so dirty with coat soot and grime it was almost impossible to tell what colour it had been originally. “It's...well used, I guess,” she tried to be diplomatic as possible.
Pietro beamed with pride as he made his way down below deck, “She's dirty, alright,” he grinned, “but she gets the job done.”
“I haven't seen clean coal yet,” Artur snorted with a roll of his eyes.
“Oh,” Filigree felt suddenly foolish, “I didn't mean any offense.”
In response, Pietro simply snickered, “Oh, none taken. I like my best girl all dirty.”
“And on that note,” Artur decided to step in before his younger brother went on to detail how he’d anthropomorphised the engine, given it a name and a personality and at one time, had been caught asleep on it, “we'll take our leave. Good hunting tonight, brother.”
“It's always good, Arty,” Pietro bumped claws with his older brother and then he bumped his claw to Filigree’s hoof. “Make him earn it, little pony,” he winked, and then he set about some tinkering with his dirty girl.
As Artur headed back up to the deck, Filigree fell into step at his side. “That was fun!” she squealed happily, though she was grateful to be back up on the main deck. The fresh air was like taking a cold drink on a hot day. “Thank you, for sharing this with me, Master.”
“I'm proud of the boat and of my brothers,” Artur seemed to walk a couple of feet taller as he led his mare from the trawler and onto the pier. His destination wasn’t all that far away.
“I know,” it was obvious even to Filigree that her Master was incredibly proud of his family and his livelihood. She contented herself by nestling into the tall strong griffon's side, with her tail resting over his as they walked along. She didn’t really pay attention to where they were going, more she allowed his body to steer her along. “I could use that shower now, if you don't mind.”
“We can both use a shower now,” asserted Artur, who had fallen into his role of guide, steering the white unicorn along the pier and on to the residential part of the docks, “and to show you my house.”
When they arrived at the town house, Filigree found it looked like all the others on the street. Unlike Whinnyapolis, Manehatten was host to cookie cutter houses, it seemed. There was a white picket fence, a well kept lawn and plenty of parking in the lot, though none of the brothers owned a car. Inside was far more personalised. The ground floor had a great room, a kitchen, a dining room and a half bathroom. The first floor consisted of two bedrooms, one each for Dimitri and Pietro, a full bathroom and an office. The top most floor had two bedrooms, which were Artur’s and a gaming room, a full bathroom, and a walk out to a balcony patio.
“I totally love your place!” squealed Filigree in sheer delight. Her eyes were everywhere all at once, big and wide trying to take in everything at once. She loved the very rustic wooden build of the house, for it reminded her of her home, in a good way. Still with her head on a swivel, she followed Artur into the top floor bathroom, “It’s way bigger than my barn room!”
“It works for us,” the griffon replied modestly as he got the shower going at a nice comfortably hot temperature so they could wash the accumulated coal dust off each other’s bodies.
“It’s so nice to have plumbing!” giggled Filigree as she hopped into the bathtub proceeded to use her magic to thoroughly clean her Master’s feathered and furred body. “And with running hot water, too!” this was indeed a luxury, one she thought she could get used to.
After the very thorough shower and drying, once he was happy and satisfied his pony was cleaned to his liking, Artur nudged her out of the tub. “We have thirty minutes, and it is a ten minute walk to the subway station. So, I decree it is brush time.” She was only to happy to get a brushing. The unicorn approached his bed, and Artur beckoned her to him. “Lay here, my pet, and I'll make you beautiful like the Filigree you are.”
For her part, Filigree was all smiles. To be brushed by him, the moment she was in the required position, it was like getting her dessert before the main course. She started to purr like a contented kitten almost as soon as the brush touched her clean white fur. “My pet has such a lovely mane,” he cooed softly into her ear, his free hand caressing her black mane and down her neck, “So soft for me to run my claws and brush through.”
“Mmmmm…” Filigree moaned practically straightaway. Her eyes closed in contentment and the gentling was having its desired effect. Her muscles relaxed, her lithe body totally limp and completely at ease. “I'm so soft...”
Artur gradually and slowly moved his claw and the brush down Filigree's neck to her back and he spent a good few minutes on brushing her long black tail. After just a few passes of the brush her tail was glossy and smooth. “I have such a beautiful pet, who will make me proud.”
Filigree didn't even flinch when her Master’s claws passed over the deep scars on her back, her tail flicked up and swished side to side in time with his long, slow, calculated strokes. “Hmm, make you so proud…”
Casually, using his greater strength, Artur rolled the unicorn over onto her back and he then started with the brush at the top of her chest. He ran it all the way down to her belly several times, and then his free hand caressed its talons gently over her large breasts and on to her labia. “You are all mine, Filigree, to do as I please, and you do please me.” It pleased him greatly to see how her body reacted to his slightest touch, his deft caress elicited mewls of pleasure from her.
On her back, Filigree melted under his skilled touch. The brush moving effortlessly through her fur combined with the claw caressing her mane. Her hind legs splayed out wide, her breath came in short gasps. “All I want is to please you, Master,” she was incredibly moist between her legs already, his words were her everything.
Knowing he had her in the palm of his claw, Artur moved the claw holding the brush up and with the back of it, the griffon lightly tapped Filigree's horn, a smirk all over his beak. “Then we go, so you can please me tonight.” Without a look back, he got out of the bed and he headed for the door.
“Huh? Oh!” bought back to reality, Filigree quickly gathered her wits about her and she was up on her hooves and, with an almost glowing white coat and silky black mane, followed him out. “I’m right with you, Master.”
As he left the building, Artur chuckled at the door. “Pet, did you remember your shoulder bag with your subway pass?” he asked, knowing the answer already and waiting on the porch, keys in claw.
Without so much as a pause in her step, Filigree used her magic to float out her shoulder bag like nothing had happened. “Yes, Master!”
“You are a good pet,” Artur clipped a leash to her collar, took hold of it, and led her to the subway station.
