Her entire body felt simply dreadful.

Her head felt like she had two of the worst overlapping hangovers possible; every part of her body ached. A soft groan came to her ears, and she was already judging it as most unladylike before she realized she was making the sound herself. When she opened her eyes, there was darkness, complete and total, around her.

She tried to lift a hoof to rub her face; the action failed, and when she tried the other hoof, it failed too. Something leathery held her forehooves down at her sides; her rear hooves could not move either, and the same smooth texture held them fast too.

"Hello?" At least her throat didn't hurt. "Is . . . is anypony there? I am in dire need of assistance!" A faint scraping sound came to her from the darkness directly ahead of her. "Hello? Hello?!"

A light in front of her came on, piercing and bright; she shut her eyes in pain, but for a moment she swore the light that came on was not a single light, but a strange round array of lights, with a handle on one side. She had some dim recollection of where she'd seen that light. I saw those when I was getting treated for . . . but no! It couldn't be!

"Tell me, Rarity. Did you ever think it would come to this?" The voice was a stallion's, warm with a little rasp to it, the kind of voice she could listen to --

She gasped, and shifted in the restraints. I know that voice! "N-Neurotransmitter?" The doctor she'd broken up with some two months ago. How on earth is he here? Oh, who cares! He can help me!

"Mmmmhm," he murmured.

"Oh, thank Celestia's merciful heavens! Neurotransmitter, you have to help me! I have no idea how I've gotten here but I simply cannot get free! You must remove these bounds and help me find the scoundrel who has violated my freedom in this manner!" Some itchy little sense of trouble was in the back of Rarity's head; certainly, she and Neuro hadn't broken up on the best of terms, but --

"Rarity . . . I know how you got here."

"You . . . you do?" That itchy sense recoiled. He . . . he couldn't possibly mean . . .

"I brought you here. We had a friendly coffee at my place; don't you recall?" He chuckled, and it wasn't the same chuckle she could remember from Neurotransmitter; it was . . . colder. "I suppose you wouldn't. The drugs I added to your coffee are quite effective, but they do tend to give the subject amnesia."

"I . . . you . . . " For a moment, Rarity found herself at a loss for words. "Neurotransmitter! That is . . . that's simply despicable! Why in all of Equestria have you done such a thing?"

She felt a hoof touch her cheek, and knew it was his; that was when she realized she could not move her head, not even a little. The slightest effort to do so brought strange tension into her upper skull, as if . . . as if . . .

"Careful, Rarity. You won't want to dislodge the skull clamp. You haven't the strength, I suspect, but still, it's best if you don't try to thrash around -- "

"Thrash . . . !?" she cut in. "You monster! What do you think you're doing?! This is absolutely unacceptable!"

His hoof simply stroked along her left cheek, and his voice was suddenly warm breath on her on her right ear. She could feel warmth radiating from him, on the back and sides of her neck and skull. "Shhhh. I'm doing what I have to, Rarity."

"What you have to?! Neurotransmitter, I demand you release me immediately!"

"I will, love. Once I'm done."

"Done with what?! You are done now!" Panic fluttered in her voice. What on earth is he going to do to me?!

"You should realize, Rarity, that you're actually rather lucky." He brought his warm nose to the edge of her ear, the barest touch. "A lesser pony would have simply accepted it, Rarity. A lesser stallion would have simply . . . written their feelings off. But, I think you've realized by now that I am not a lesser stallion." His breath moved away from her ear, his hoof left her cheek; she felt some tiny relief at the change.

"You drugged me!" she spat. "This isn't love or luck! You're a criminal!"

"Yes, I did drug you, and yes, it's illegal. But if you look at the larger picture, I think you'll understand why." His voice moved in the darkness, but still, she couldn't see him. "I have motivation as well as intelligence, you see. A less motivated stallion would have written you off and sunk into despair. A less intelligent stallion than I would have simply taken you by force and landed himself in prison -- or, worse, succeeded, and disrupted the very Elements that keep Equestria stable."

Fear was sinking into Rarity's brain by this point. "Neurotransmitter, what . . . what are you talking about?" None of it made any sense. The fear produced a question she did not want to ask -- she did not want the thought to enter his mind -- but the question tumbled from her lips anyway. "Neuro, is . . . is it your intention to kill me?"

A gasp came from him; real shock was on his face, she'd know. "Rarity . . . " He actually looked hurt afterwards, too!

"You've . . . done all this," she whimpered. "What would you assume, if you woke up in such a state? Couldn't you have thought your life might well be on the line?"

The wounded look had not left his face. "Rarity, think. I'm not spewing inane babble here; I realize this is, ah, unusual, but listen to me! How would killing you leave the Elements intact?"

"It . . . wouldn't." She'd nearly missed that. It was hardly reassuring in any real sense, but there was the tiniest retreat of the fear in her brain.

"I'd be destroyed, Rarity. It'd be worse than I am now."

How he is now? As if I'd care, with the way he's treating me! "Then what are your intentions?"

He smiled a little at the question. "I found something better. I found a way to leave you connected to the other Elements -- and have you as a mate, at the same time."

"Mate?! How in . . . " She sputtered for a moment. "You say it as if we're simply . . . animals! And I can tell you that you certainly aren't winning my favor with this little operation!" She was trying to maintain dignity and shrill anger, but that fear was leaking out, her voice was faltering. She'd feared that this was rape; now, it seemed, it might be much, much worse.

"We are, in a sense, Rarity. But as for winning your favor . . . once I'm done, I'll be the stallion of your dreams. For now, though, Rarity . . . you should sleep."

She felt something jab into her neck, a sharp pinch. "It's time for the drill, and you really don't want to be awake for the drill . . . "

* * *

Rarity's eyes opened again.

The feeling was a double hangover, but with subtle differences; before, the taste in her mouth had been metallic-copper, and now it was metallic -- iron. Or steel. Yes, steel. Wait, is steel the one --

Memories came of her last wakeup, and with it came the effort; she tested her bonds, and all of them were still in place. The light shone through her eyelids, but then it turned off, and she opened her eyes again.

The completely dark room was now lit by appropriate, eye-undamaging lighting. It looked like the rooms she'd been in for her operation a year ago, when she'd needed emergency surgery due to a nasty knock to the head. I counted myself so lucky to be in Neurotransmitter's hooves then, she thought sourly.

"Neurotransmitter? Are you here?"

"I am indeed, sweetheart." He came over, peeling latex off his hooves -- latex with bright red blood on it. White grit was stuck in the red stuff; Rarity didn't dare think about the implications of it. "It was a success, in case you were wondering."

"Success? What do you mean, 'success'?" Her headache seemed to be different, too -- somehow it was further back now, or at least more intense in the back. Odd, that.

"I mean the implantation. I've added twenty-five microelectrodes to parts of your brain."

"You . . . " She trailed off as she tried to process that. " . . . you put something in my brain?! Neurotransmitter!" Tears were starting to wet into the fur around her eyes. "Why? I . . . I know I broke up with you, but . . . but I'm not the only mare there is!"

"You are for me," he shrugged. A faint little smile played on his lips. "There was only one problem, and I think I'm going to solve it for you. Once I have, everything'll be better. You'll see."

She tried to shake her head, but of course the clamps were still in place. "Neuro, no! Please! I meant it! I broke up with you because we lacked compatibility! I'm sure you've noticed I haven't dated anyone else?"

"Believe me, Rarity, I noticed." She'd swear that was concern on his face, but that made little sense. "I got a little irrational for a while -- I even hired a private investigator, simply to keep tabs on you. But when I realized how unhappy you were about our breakup . . . I couldn't just keep watching."

"What?! Neuro . . . that . . . " Isn't healthy, she finished in her head. She wasn't sure how she was going to convince him, but she'd certainly do all she could. Best to follow the emotional tack. If he cares for me, perhaps I can show him the error in his thinking. "Then why?! You know I cared for you, but . . . but this? This is beyond the pale! Why would you do . . . whatever it is you're going to do, to me?"

"Rarity, you broke up with me over a simple sexual difference, plain and simple. I still remember the word you used when I discussed my . . . preferences . . . with you. I believe it was 'unseemly'."

"It . . . is! They are! Neuro, for heaven's sake, I . . . I don't like pain! I don't enjoy it! You asked me to let you cut me, and . . . said I'd like it." She felt vague nausea deep in her body, knots that didn't want to let go of her insides. She realized her voice was approaching a whimper; she forced herself to make a logical -- yet impassioned -- plea. "You aren't the sort to force yourself on me, Neurotransmitter. You're not that sort of stallion! Surely you can see this isn't with my consent!"

He shook his head. "No, the procedure will not be. However, I can assure you . . . the love you feel afterwards, when things are all in place? It'll be as real as anything, Rarity. I may not be the sort of stallion to force myself, but neither am I the sort to simply let our love die because of some silly little aversion to pain. And you do love me . . . so once I'm done with this, you won't have any reason to leave me." He smiled, and it was truly a warm smile, even if it made Rarity shiver. Try as she might, Rarity couldn't exactly suss out whether Neuro was angry or loving; somehow, it seemed to be both sometimes, cold sometimes, warm sometimes . . . unpredictable, and hard to pin down. How am I supposed to try to talk a madstallion down? "That's why this will solve everything, I am certain."

Frustration was wearing on her. "What do you think you're going to solve, exactly?! You've committed a high crime, Neurotransmitter! And once I leave, and tell everypony, you'll be locked away for the rest of your life!" Anger flared; Rarity had been trying to keep it down -- No reason to upset the crazy doctor, after all. The manner in which he was behaving, unfortunately, was provoking her baser urges. "I can see no other recourse, unless you exercise some of your 'intelligence' and release me now! You could save yourself a lot of trouble if you simply undo whatever you've done, and let me go!"

"And leave myself unhappy for the rest of my life?" Neurotransmitter shook his head; that golden yellow mane shifted a bit. "Think about it for a moment, Rarity. I'm meant to save lives; how will I do that from the throes of depression? How could anypony? And you -- your regrets! You can't tell me you didn't wish things had worked out? The Boutique's been closed more and more lately, from what I've been told."

The stallion wasn't wrong about that last part. Rarity had spent many a night crying since then, convinced that if only Neuro hadn't been a . . . filthy pervert, then everything would have been just fine. "It . . . it was true, once. But now? Now you've drugged me and done Celestia knows what else!" Rarity was sure he hadn't been inside her -- she didn't feel sore there at all -- but she didn't like the sound of electrodes in her brain, either. "Now? Now I wish you hadn't turned out insane, Neuro! That's all!"

"Rarity, that's not how love works! Love takes more to kill than just a few months and a few little crimes. Ones which -- once I'm done -- you will heartily forgive, and even lie about to your closest friends."

"I will never defend you! How could I? This is indefensible!" She glared at him.

"I bet I can change your mind," he chuckled.

"This is not some little whim of mine! You can't -- "

"Rarity, do you remember when you accused me of thinking of ponies as if they were 'animals'?" he cut in. "Do you know why that is? I've seen their brains. I know how things work in their heads. I had to spend a lot of time learning about how to do brain surgery, and I have seen people's minds literally change. Sometimes their personalities; sometimes their memories. But when you say someone can't change your mind . . . "

He chuckled and nosed at a control console at the edge of her vision, and her flesh exploded with pleasure.

Moans came from her as she tensed against all the restraints that held her fast; without intending to, her back was arching. Her eyes shut and the delight coursed through her body, as if she'd somehow been given three full-body orgasms simultaneously.

It fell away, and she could feel tingles between her legs -- but this wasn't an orgasm, somehow. No -- this was something else, something . . . something even better than those pulsing pleasures she brought herself by hoof, or gained from another pony. This was utter bliss wrapped around a brick of love with a center of liquid desire.

His voice floated to her as her perceptions came back after the overwhelming sensation. " . . . you're quite simply incorrect."

"What . . . " She was breathless, blinking, stunned. " . . . what did you do? What was that?"

"That, let's see . . . was point one voltage, point zero zero two amperage, for a tenth of a second." He blinked and looked at her. "Electrical stimulation, to clarify. You see, one of the twenty-five electrodes sits directly on the pleasure center of your brain, Rarity. It'll be the primary one used to stimulate you during the, ah . . . re-education."

"But . . . it . . . " she whimpered. Nothing had ever felt that good. Nothing. Not even the time she'd been eaten out on the upper balcony of the Carousel Boutique with the sun shining down on her body and the soft murmurs of a mare vibrating into her pussy. No -- the best orgasm she'd ever had was nothing compared to this. Think, Rarity. THINK! Not with your plot, with your brain! "What . . . what do you mean, re-education . . . ?"

"The emotions you currently associate with me -- and my presence in particular -- are disgust and regret. I'm going to change that . . . manually."

She blinked, trying to shake her head again. "How?"

"With the electrodes. First, I'll need to do some sadly necessary aversion therapy -- just to ensure you don't try to tell the wrong ponies about our time in here. Then, I'll re-orient your feelings about me, and about pain as a sexual fetish. Once those are done, I'm hoping for something a little . . . advanced. But most likely I can simply remove the electrodes, and we can go on to the next stage of our relationship."

"Our relationship?! Are you snapped? Do you -- " He poked at the control panel.

It cut her off entirely. A wave of black depression united with coarse, absolute pain wracked through her restrained body, and the agony pushed a wail from her throat. A moment later, it was over.

"That's what'll happen when you feel negative emotions towards me," he murmured.

She hated herself for it, but she never, ever, ever wanted to feel that greasy horrid feeling again. "How . . . how did it hurt . . . ?"

"Pain is the brain," he chuckled. "Remember? When you originally had to be treated, how we mapped your brain and determined that you were experiencing neuropathic pain? That's part of the 'Bad Rarity' cocktail." He shrugged a little. "Not a great name, no, but . . . " He sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, love, you have no idea how much this all hurts me. I don't want to do this . . . but I know it's the right thing to do."

"Right thing to do?" Her tone of voice was inching towards outrage again; Neuro leaned towards the panel, about to poke it again. "Neurotransmitter, no, wait!" Rarity hastily applied a different tack. "Have . . . have you considered the possibility that you're not quite seeing all of this from the right angle?"

He trotted closer. "What do you mean?"

"What if there's something wrong with you? This . . . this is wrong, Neuro. Wrong. Think about this, for a moment! Imagine if somepony else told you that they were going to do this. Would that be a noble effort on their part, or a possibly insane thing?"

He seemed to consider it for a moment. "Somepony else? That'd be different. For one, they wouldn't have the training and equipment access -- "

"Damn it, Neuro! I mean it's wrong to do it at all! I'm not talking about the damned medical equipment!" He turned and moved towards the panel again; fear crashed into her brain as his mouth neared the machine that could stimulate her brain. "No, wait, wait, wait -- "

Agony, emotional and physical, washed through her body again, as if she'd become a sewer pipe for everything unpleasant in her entire life all at once. His voice cut through it a moment later. "Now, Rarity . . . who's being irrational?"

"Please," she whimpered, her voice small and wavering. "Please . . . no more."

He came back with a sad smile. "I'm sorry, love, I really am." He leaned towards her and pressed a warm little kiss to her cheek. "It's getting late. Tomorrow we'll do the aversion therapy . . . and then we'll see about helping you see the good side in all this, all right?" He brought a blanket over. "I don't want you to get a chill, though . . . but don't worry." He pulled the blanket over her; she whimpered in response. "I can make the room more comfortable, and hopefully you'll only be down here a week or so. With direct brain stimulation, the changes shouldn't take nearly as long as they would with clumsy psychological techniques."

Once he was done with the blanket, he did something she couldn't turn her head to see, off to her left. "There," he muttered, and when he came back he had a syringe that he promptly disposed of. "That'll help you sleep. I know this is hardly the sort of bed you're accustomed to, but . . . it's really for the best, to avoid the chance of secondary infections."

"Neuro . . . please," she said, and even she was surprised at the desperation in her voice; it cracked a few times. "I promise I absolutely won't tell anyone, if . . . if you just let me go now . . . " He turned and trotted and nosed that control panel again; she felt tears running down already-wet cheeks. Everything, just everything, seemed so awful and horrid -- and the pain in her body pulsed and refused her any relief.

"Thoughts of escape get the same treatment, sweetheart," he murmured, a note of regret in his voice. He turned and went up the stairs, but stopped at the top. "And please, dear . . . don't beg." She swore an edge came to his voice. "You have too much dignity to do that."

She'd said exactly those words to him when she broke up with him, and he begged her to reconsider.

Why? Why is he doing it? He's . . . he's a doctor! He could have almost any mare he wants! It wasn't exactly flattering but it was clear he had largely positive emotions about her. Perhaps . . . perhaps I can convince him tomorrow. I can point out the anger and the little bits of resentment showing through, and talk him out of this. Whatever else happened, she knew she couldn't handle the 'Bad Rarity' stimulation again. Anything would have been better than feeling that gray emotional knife of unhappiness and hurt, even dying.

Rarity . . . you can't let yourself think that. You've gotten through worse than this before! You can do it again.

Eventually, despite the growling hunger in her abdomen, the discomfort of her sleeping arrangement, and the insanity of her predicament, her thoughts grew sluggish and weak, and she fell asleep there on the table.

Author's Note

This is a test! This is me working on my Rarity-voice while trying to write a fairly extreme story. Chapter 2 is where the clop starts, and there will be plenty of blood, I assure you. Neurotransmitter didn't get into medicine for purely altruistic reasons...