The Sacred Sonatina

She did not sleep. As soon as her alarm went off, she turned it off and called Noteworthy to let him know she wasn’t coming to practice.

“Oh.” He sounded like his violin had broken a string.

“Note, you can’t be so melodramatic about everything. And think of who’s saying this to you, all right? It’s one practice. I just had a rough night.”

“R-Right, uh, sure.”

She got a leisurely breakfast, then practiced the Sonatina a few more times. Never hurts to take a run through an important piece, she mused, as she drew the bow from side to side. Particularly if it’s for an important audience.

When Vinyl did arrive, Octavia greeted her at the door with that fake smile that looked oh so real. “So, are you ready to hear the Sonatina again?”

“Yeah!” She had a smile, but she seemed just a bit relaxed just hearing the mention of the piece.

Lovely. “Well, let’s not keep you waiting, then! Come into the living room and I’ll play.” I could do anything I want to her. Anything. Anything at all. Octavia’s mind raced; she felt her heart leap at the thought. Anything, if I wanted. She’d slit her wrists if I told her to! An unsettling realization came to Octavia; she wasn’t sure what she did want.

“Sure.” She settled down on the couch.

Octavia couldn’t believe just how easy this seemed to be. She drew her bow across the strings. “Vinyl,” she murmured. “You will hear the music until I say it has ended.”

Vinyl nodded, and Octavia set the bow aside. As much as she enjoyed the simplicity of Buck’s Sacred Sonatina, it had no effect on her when she was the one playing it. She could only imagine what would happen if she played it for an audience of more than one.

Even royalty and the wealthy could be made to behave like common animals, like housepets, essentially. But what to take? What to have? Vinyl had nothing she could possibly want; the money Octavia made with the CCO plus her handful of regular side engagements was not excessive, but she wanted for nothing.

She yawned, and grumbled internally. I’m too tired to work this out. “Sit here, Vinyl. I . . . “ She hesitated. I shouldn’t leave her here, though. She’s helpless. Should that matter? “Actually, Vinyl, follow me.”

“Sure,” Vinyl said. Her head swayed gently, and her words were slow.

Octavia trotted to the bedroom, turned on “Slipper Soft,” and Vinyl blinked a few extra times, her brow furrowing a little. Octavia chuckled. She can’t lie with the Sonatina playing, I’d think. “Vinyl, do you recognize this composer?”

“It’s Philomena Grass.” Vinyl stared at the stereo for a moment, then looked at Octavia again. “I remember her.”

A quiver shot through Octavia’s mind. That can’t be true! “No, you don’t, you lying piece of filth!” She shrieked it before she realized it had come out, and struck the mare in the face before she realized what she’d done. Her foreleg felt warm as she retracted it.

“That hurt,” Vinyl whimpered, turning her head to look at Octavia. A tear soaked into the fur under one of her eyes.

Octavia, for her part, could only wonder why she was panting, why she felt warm all over and somehow confused. She tried to think. I’m simply tired. That’s all this is. I’m tired and that’s why I struck her. That’s it. That must be it.

Confusion mingled with something else on Vinyl’s face that Octavia couldn’t place, but she did not care. “Of course it hurt! You lied, you get punished.” That’s what Father always said. It was only right, wasn’t it? So why was Octavia shaking and flushed? She struggled to keep her voice level. “You lied. So tell the truth, Vinyl. Tell me where you were when I was at Horseshoelliard.”

“I was at Horseshoelliard.”

Octavia blinked, then tilted her head. She’s still hearing the Sonatina, so — so it’s the truth? That had to be a mistake! “You didn’t deserve to be there, did you?”

“No.” Vinyl’s face actually became a little sad, and somehow Octavia felt energy pulse through her body. “I can’t even play an instrument. I wish I could. The ponies at the clubs like my work, but I wish I could play the piano, or the cel — “

“Shut up!” Octavia struck her again; this was a more solid contact of hoof to face, and Vinyl was staggered a few steps backward.

“Please don’t hurt me, Octavia,” she said. Fear was leaking through the effect of the Sonatina.

“Don’t!“ She felt like she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs, like anger was coating her body somehow, sticky and red. “Don’t ever ask me that again! I’ll hurt you when I want to, you filthy degenerate!”

Octavia cracked another blow across Vinyl’s muzzle, but now, with the sentences that could be interpreted as instruction and suggestion, Vinyl nodded. Blood leaked down her lip. “You’ll hurt me when you want to.”

Octavia was panting, blinking, and rubbed a hoof over her face; blood was on the hoof, and she got a taste of it on her lip, her mind recoiling. She’d tasted blood from violence only a few other times, but it was always hers, and the thoughts of those times sent shivers through her.

I was powerless then, she thought, at the memory of adults who did what they pleased, troubling and awful. She blinked a few times at Vinyl, then at her bloodied hoof. After a moment, the conscious thought found its way into her mind, where it had never quite taken hold before.

I’m not powerlessnow, am I?

No. No, I am not. That terrible wider smile spread out as she stared at Vinyl. So what do I want? Another yawn, and she covered it again with her hoof, tasting blood and looking at Vinyl. I bet she’s never lost sleep because somepony disrupted her “nightly ritual.”

Suddenly, Octavia knew what she wanted. “Vinyl, I believe I have a job that dovetails nicely with your . . . skillset.” She chuckled and lay back on the bed, spreading herself lewdly. “You’re going to help me get to sleep.”

“Yes, Octavia,” said Vinyl, with that same somewhat-fearful look. Octavia hesitated, then tilted her head. That won’t do. I want her enjoyingher punishment! Just as Father told me to thank him when he disciplined me. She considered for a moment; simply ordering Vinyl to thank her would be hollow, just as Octavia’s first attempts at thank-yous for punishments were hollow.

They weren’t hollow very long. Father started punishing hollow thanks when they were given. Somehow she found a very real way to thank him, despite what he was doing. She forced herself to find something enjoyable in it; something about the fear, something she hadn’t let herself think since her father died over a decade ago.

I can help Vinyl with that, she chuckled. “Vinyl, any punishment or task you carry out for me will — “ Wait, what? What possible reward could a reprobate animal like Vinyl Scratch want?

“Of course,” she muttered. “Vinyl, any punishment you are given, or task you carry out for me, will make you feel a small sexual pleasure.”

Vinyl nodded. “Any — “

“You don’t need to repeat things back, Vinyl. You just need to nod.” She blinked a few times. Father had warned that he couldn’t be too soft with Octavia, or she’d never achieve her full potential. Vinyl seems undisciplined; let’s see if we can reward her for good behavior, too. “Also, Vinyl, any suggestion or command I give you will make you feel a very small sexual pleasure.”

Vinyl nodded, and Octavia caught a little tremor in the unicorn’s body.

“Did that feel good, Vinyl?

Faint confusion creased Vinyl’s brow, but she nodded.

“Vinyl, I have a task for you. Have you put your mouth on a marehood before?”

“Yes, Octavia.” Vinyl had a thin blush growing, and her magenta eyes had grown furtive. What’s going on in there? Is she still thinking thoughts, or is she simply experiencing pleasure in response to questions now too? Octavia resolved to watch her new charge more closely. Once she got some sleep, of course.

“Good. Come here, Vinyl. Put your mouth between my legs.” I’m no reprobate, she mused. It won’t matter if it’s Vinyl’s mouth or my hoof, because I don’t have these filthy needs like she does, like all of those vandals and plebeians.

Vinyl trotted over, obedient, and pressed her muzzle to Octavia’s sex; at the same time, as a result of following a command, a thin moan flowed through the DJ’s mouth and vibrated through Octavia’s cunny. The earth mare gave an involuntary squeal, and waved a hoof. “No! Stop, Vinyl! Back up.”

Vinyl did as she was told, as Octavia stared at the unicorn, trying to process what just happened. That doesn’t make any sense! That felt very . . . good! That . . . She rubbed her face, trying to clear her head. She was panting in ragged unrhythm, and sweat had broken on her forehead, and every rub of that hoof on her face was also rubbing more of the congealing blood, but somehow even that — the scent of blood itself — even that was tightening strings she didn’t think could be tightened. No, she told herself after a few moments. That didn’t feel better; this is because I’m tired! Yes. Yes, that’s got to be it.

“Vinyl!” Octavia’s voice was shredded compared to its usual melodious nature. “Go slower. Start with little licks, in less sensitive places, before you move in closer. Use the experience you no doubt have ‘eating pussy’.”

“Yes, Octavia,” Vinyl whimpered. Octavia could smell something else in the room, not the typical scent of Vinyl (she’d grown accustomed to the unfortunate smell of inexpensive soap that came off the cheap-living unicorn) but something else, something strange and new. It seemed to intensify, ever so slightly, as time went by.

Vinyl’s tongue stroked along her upper inner thighs, and Octavia stifled a moan. I don’t need to make sounds! I have control! She could tell she was getting warmer and warmer, and Vinyl’s tongue was making a slow effort to bring the little thin strokes of her tongue closer to the center, at the very middle between Octavia’s legs. She fought to stifle any sound she might make, but it was getting more difficult. I want this. I want to sleep! Just once, and I’ll try it, and then I’ll sleep. Never again after.

Vinyl’s warm breath drifted across Octavia’s cunny, and she couldn’t think any more. Vinyl’s tongue followed soon, making long, slow, deft strokes along Octavia’s outer lips. Oh, Celestia! It’s so good! I —

The working tongue stroked along her slit, pressing a little, and caught a touch of nectar. Somehow that was making everything worse; Octavia couldn’t understand what she hadn’t accounted for. Her blood was rushing in her ears, but it was more than it usually was when she climaxed nightly; her hooves shifted as her legs flexed, and she was squirming towards Vinyl’s mouth.

Vinyl, for her part, was moaning deep into Octavia’s snatch, her eyes closed. A thought came, unbidden and unbelievable: I wish her eyes were open, those brilliant magenta eyes she would hide behind glasses. Her tongue feels so good! Vinyl’s ministrations had changed, slowing but with more pressure, and the warm muscle mass had flexed to make a tip more pointed than Tavi’s hoof. That tip was probing between Octavia’s deeper petals, and she shook her head. She wanted to tell Vinyl to stop, but she couldn’t get herself to do it; she wanted too much to see how good it could feel, if she let Vinyl push her all the way.

Another thick sound of lust flowed into Octavia’s cunt, and she felt the arch of her body shift, her back and shoulders flexing, her hips trying to thrust forward into Vinyl’s face; Vinyl was still in ‘eating pussy’ mode, it seemed, because her tongue swirled around Tavi’s sensitive virgin entrance, and then slid inside.

“Mmph — Vinyl — what — “ Words wouldn’t come. Octavia felt fear shiver through her body as more shudders came, her body twitching and shifting as if on its own accord. This isn’t control! Octavia, stop! Stop her!

She couldn’t; it felt too good. Vinyl’s warm, long tongue felt simply divine inside her, where nothing else had ever been; within a moment, Octavia bucked at Vinyl’s working mouth, and Vinyl made a sound Octavia had only imagined coming from whores and lovers, and somehow the vibrations and the warm tongue stroking around her nub were simply too much to bear. A pressure that seemed to have built to a head shattered inside Octavia, and she howled out, whacking her hooves into the bed, spasms wracking through her flesh. She couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t control, but the thought came again —

Vinyl does have beautiful eyes

— and then after what seemed like forever drowning in pleasure, she could breathe again and think again, warmth draining from her flesh, confusion setting in. What was that? What on earth did she do with her mouth? Octavia’s efforts with her hoof had never caused that sort of explosion. Warm wet fluid was on her face; her eyes were leaking tears without her realizing it. Vinyl was looking up at her, like a housepet denied a treat or something, but Tavi swore she could see the barest hint of more than that in her expression. It’s like there was some sort of anguish or something on Vinyl’s face. It was something that seemed incomprehensible. Perhaps it’s something her mind can’t really let through because of the Sonatina.

Whatever it was, Octavia quickly realized she did not care. Warmth was overtaking her. She waved a hoof at Vinyl. “Back away for now, Vinyl. Time — “ The words fell apart into an impolite, uncovered yawn; her hooves slipped around the body pillow. “Time for me to get a little nap.”

“Yes, Octavia,” Vinyl murmured, and Tavi’s eyes shut. She was asleep almost within the same moment.

* * *

Warmth stirred around her.

She could smell Vinyl, and the memory of how she got to sleep came back as she opened her eyes. The body pillow feels very . . .

Her forelegs weren’t wrapped around the body pillow. They were wrapped around Vinyl, who was snoring. Octavia stifled a squeal. Oh, hell! What happened?! It was then that she realized she had no idea what would happen if Vinyl fell asleep while “listening,” or really any idea what would happen if Vinyl fell asleep while hearing her actually play the song. So many variables.

She tried to think and ignore the warm body of the unicorn she was snuggled against. If it breaks the currently operating suggestions, then that’s no good! She’ll gallop out of here as soon as I move! Why is she even on the bed? I didn’t tell her to do this!

She forced herself to start breathing again, and Vinyl shifted a little against her.

Okay. Think, Octavia! She’s on the bed. Why? Her memory searched, and after a few moments she realized she hadn’t said Vinyl couldn’t come up on the bed; she’d just told her “back away for now,” and that she was getting a nap.

So if I don’t explicitly forbid something, it can still happen. Interesting. Well, I suppose that’s better than the opposite situation. It wouldn’t do to have one’s playthings starving if you forgot to tell them that eating was all right, or . . .

She swallowed, and anxiety about filth came. If it’s difficult for a listener to act without explicit instruction, then they might . . . miss a bathroom trip. The image made her stomach lurch.

Okay! Focus, Octavia. We have to determine if Vinyl’s still under the influence or not. If she isn’t, we have to put her back under. If she is — then we have to be sure.

Octavia realized Vinyl’s head was giving the slightest of movements, almost like — no, exactly like before! Is she hearing it in her dreams? Wouldn’t that be just perfect?

She found herself wondering what sort of dream Vinyl was having, then pushed the thought away. It doesn’t matter now. It doesn’t matter now at all! I don’t have to pretend to be interested in things about her any more! I can simply . . . wait, what am I going to do with her?

There was a faint warm tingle between her legs, a deeply disturbing sensation for Octavia. No. She had her nightly ritual; that was all she needed.

Her eyes narrowed at the back of Vinyl’s sleeping head. Until she came along. This is all her fault! Octavia’s hips shifted a bit, and the tingling got worse. Rrrgh. Now there are all theseurges!

She could ask a source who would know; she could even erase her memory afterwards, if she felt like it. “Vinyl, wake up.”

Vinyl turned over, blinking those intense magenta eyes. “Yes, Octavia?”

Well, she’s still under, seems like.“What does — “ Ugh, such a horrid concept. “ — being sexually aroused feel like? Describe it.”

“Okay.” Vinyl’s brow furrowed a little. “Well, it depends. I mean, it’s a little different for every mare.”

“Well, generally.” Octavia could finally indulge this little curiosity without anypony getting the wrong idea; she just needed information, of course. If she had enough of that, she could control the situation.

“Some mares get a little warm all over, or just around their groove. Some get tingly, like I do. I’ve seen mares with nipples that got firmed; that’s actually pretty common.”

“Your groove?“ Her brain translated the euphemism with only a moment's delay. “Oh.” She shifted, thinking back. I’ve been feeling this lately, then? Something strange and unfamiliar tugged at the yarn of the sweater that was Octavia’s brain. “Vinyl, how many mares have you, uh . . . been with?”

“Eight, including you.”

Octavia’s stomach clenched, but it wasn’t a nausea. This was like the clenching she’d felt before, when Vinyl had bumped into her, only something was different. A little . . . sticky? She couldn’t quite place it. Whatever it was, rage bubbled up fast behind it.

“You’re a slut, Vinyl. Do you know that?” Octavia couldn’t help but hate the notion. The irresponsibility of such a life!

“Yeah.” The unicorn’s smile spread wider. “My friends tell me that, anyway.”

Octavia gaped at the mare who stared at her, utterly unabashed. Almost proud! “Vinyl, that’s not a good thing!”

“I’m not hurting anyone. I was dating four of those mares. The rest, it was kind of on and off.” She made a little circle with a hoof in the air, and almost seemed like herself again for a moment.

“But it’s sex, Vinyl! It’s distracting and it causes other problems, like relationships. Or foals!”

“It feels good, and it makes someone else feel good.” She shrugged, and something else seemed to sink in through the Sonatina. “I’m not happy as much as I want to be, and it helps me feel better.”

“But that — “ Sounds reasonable, she stopped herself from saying. “But then you’re just following urges! You’re like some animal or something!”

“We’re all animals.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean! Like a rabbit, or cow, or dog! Just — just wandering around rutting or licking — “ The word ‘licking’ sent another warm tingle through her sex. “Dammit, this is what I was trying to avoid,” she muttered. She found herself staring for a moment at Vinyl’s mouth, and a hunger she didn’t recognize nagged at her. It wasn’t hard to remember where those lips had been before Octavia’s nap.

Vinyl watched her, blinking. “Octavia?”

Oh, Celestia! I was staring! “Yes, uh . . . “ You’re supposed to be in control, you idiot! Think, and not with your ‘groove’! You need to get rid of her! Tell her she’ll forget all about you! End this now before it becomes more of a problem! She pushed the words out, eloquent and precise. “Vinyl, when the music stops this time, you’ll forget everything we’ve done since you saw me in the street, everything we’ve ever talked about, and the Sonatina. Do you understand?”

The barest hint of hesitation. “Yes, Octavia,” Vinyl murmured, blinking. Octavia swore there was that touch of anguish again, something she couldn’t grasp the significance of.

“Very well. You’re going to wash your face, Vinyl, and then we’re going to take a little walk.” Octavia got out of bed. This is where I knew this little game would lead from the beginning, of course. It’s nothing to be unhappy about. “Where do you live, exactly?”

* * *

An hour later, Vinyl was following her to the end of an alley in part of Canterlot near the unicorn’s apartment. I wouldn’t want her to get lost.

Vinyl had kept trying to talk to Octavia, but after a gentle little command easily mistaken for conversation by passerby (“Quiet for now, Vinyl,”) Vinyl had kept quiet.

“Here we are.” Octavia smiled. This is reassertion of control, Octavia. I don’t need her. I don’t need to play with her or touch her or feel that mouth — Vinyl was staring at her expectantly.. “Yes, sorry. You can talk now, Vinyl. Nopony’s around.”

“I don’t . . . “ The words seemed to struggle out of her. “I don’t understand exactly what happened.”

“You don’t need to worry about it, Vinyl. It’ll — “ She dug around for words in her head. Comfort was not Octavia’s specialty. This is like petting an animal before it’s put down, in a way. “It’ll be all right. You won’t remember me, or anything that happened.”

“But, I want to remember you.” Conflict wrestled on the unicorn’s face. “Not the bad things, but you. I want to remember you.”

Octavia tilted her head. “Why?”

“I think you’re interesting,” was all the unicorn could get out.

Octavia swallowed. Oh, just get this over with! It isn’t going to matter in thirty seconds anyway. “I’m not that interesting, Vinyl.”

“Yes, you are.” That came out a little easier. “I come to the Canterlot Classical all the time! You’re one of the best players, but you never talk to the press or give any interviews. I always wondered what you were like, and then I realized I saw you in the street that night, and — you weren’t playing, and you just seemed like anypony else.”

Two thoughts fired simultaneously in Octavia’s brain, and they were terrifying things indeed: Why on earth would she want to know me better? and She already knew me before she met me in the street!

The second one was the one that led somewhere logical, so she followed it.

This isn’t going to fix anything! And — and I can’t strip out her memories of me altogether! There’ll be evidence! Her friends will know she used to go to the CCO! No, no! This is wrong! Urgh!

The best solution she could come up with after a few minutes of hesitation was to follow her original plan. If Vinyl never bumped into her again in the streets, then a replay of this could be averted. She’d effectively be resetting Vinyl, and she’d never have to see the infuriating unicorn again.

Somehow the first thought made a short resurgence in her brain. Why on earth would she want to know me better? She pushed it down. Not relevant.

If she reset Vinyl, then made sure she never bumped into her again, it was solved. There. Control reestablished.

“Vinyl, stay here. In two minutes, the Sonatina will be over. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” The grimace came through more clearly, and there was tightening in the lips. “Goodbye, Octavia.”

She swallowed. “Goodbye, Vinyl.” Octavia made herself trot off around the corner, and found a place where she could watch the end of the alley, in line at a grilled vegetable vendor’s cart.

After a little bit of time, Vinyl trotted out of the alley, looking bewildered and almost a little afraid, and then she headed off towards her home, lost in thought.

Octavia felt almost ill as she turned away, a lump growing in her throat; she could only imagine it was from the scent of the spiced food being cooked.

I have to get home, she thought, rubbing absently at her eyes as the pungent aroma of grilled cucumbers with cumin and pepper drifted, smoky, across her face.

She was even tearing up a little.