Iron Will vs. The Penile Code

A week after the hostile visit to Bare Mare Studios things had not changed very significantly in the life of Twilight and Spike. One unremarkable day was starting out in a relatively ordinary fashion. The two were having a late breakfast, Twilight with her sensible bran muffin, glass of orange juice and grapefruit half, Spike with his bowl of variously-colored rock candies pressed in the shape of different formal gem cuts.

“How can you eat that kind of overly-processed trash?” Twilight asked, slowly cutting her muffin in half and spreading a bit of butter on the warm interior surface.

“Well, they look exactly like gems, which you know I love to eat,” Spike said, a bit lamely, “And sugar sets up in a... crystalline lattice... or whatever it is you call it. So they're technically gems. Besides, I love the prize in the box.” He pulled the box of 'Dragon Hoard' cereal to him and dug around inside it for a moment. He pulled out a moderately-sized plastic figure, an elaborately-dressed pony mare with a horn and wings. “Sweet! I got the Distressed Damsel Princess! Now all I need is the Barbecued Knight in Shining Armor and my collection is complete.”

“At least your childish diversions are harmless,” Twilight noted, dryly, taking a bite of half of her muffin. At that moment there was a knock at the office door. “Go see who it is, Spike,” She said after swallowing.

Spike looked over in surprise. He had been distracted by the plastic pony princess and had been slowly sliding her down his body. “What? Right! The door...” He set down the toy and wandered over to the door. “Who is it?”

“Land Shark,” Came the reply from the other side of the door, the voice feminine but somewhat husky.

“Wh-what? What did you say?” Spike pressed up against the door to make sure he was hearing right.

“Land Shark!” The voice said again. Spike braced himself against the door in a chivalrous effort to protect Twilight.

“T-twilight, jump out the window!” Spike shouted, while pointing towards the window, “Land Shark at the door!”

“'Land Shark'? How unusual,” Twilight said calmly as she strolled over, holding her muffin halves in her magical grip.

“And to think I used to be worried about zombie ponies!” Spike said with a shiver, “I didn't know there were things like Land Sharks running around, except that cartoon about the sharks on the street.”

“Don't be silly, there's no such thing as a Land Shark,” Twilight said, opening the door.

On the other side there stood a cross-eyed gray pegasus mare, wearing a giant shark head, her face peering out from between the teeth. “Land Shark Express Delivery Company! I have a letter for Twilight Sparkle.”

Twilight glared down at Spike who sheepishly looked away and kicked at the floor with his foot. “I am Twilight Sparkle. What do you have?”

“Super-express next day delivery,” The delivery mare said, pulling a blue paper out of her saddlebag and passing it along.

“A motion. I am not surprised,” Twilight said, opening the paper and starting to close the door.

“Wait!” The pegasus pulled out another folded blue paper and passed it along.

“They certainly do not waste time...” Twilight began.

“And these,” The pegasus said, passing a stack of blue papers from the other side of her bag.

“Th-this seems a bit excessive...” Twilight said, looking over the pile.

“And these came along too,” The mare pushed a tall stack of folders to Twilight.

Twilight opened up one folder and read over it. “Amicus briefs? Quite a few of them. This one is from... the Surgeon General? Buck my li-”

“And these!” The pegasus showed off a few carts of standard file boxes being dropped in front of the office. All the boxes had dates on them and were labeled, 'Exhibit copies- Discovery.'

Twilight stood there almost in awe, marveling at the volume of things being dropped off. “Spike,” She said absently, “Get to work bringing those in and cataloging everything.”

“Aww Twilight, my toy... I mean, my cereal is getting soggy...” He began.

Without hesitation, Twilight sent out a chastening zap, sending the tazed Spike running off to bear the boxes in one-by-one. “So... this is what stands behind an artist... an army of legal mercenaries. I can only imagine how many lawyers needed to work on this...”

“Sign here!” The delivery mare shoved a clipboard under Twilight's snout, along with a pen. After Twilight had signed the paper she pulled it back and placed it in her saddlebags. She came away holding the un-bitten muffin half. After taking a bite she smiled brightly. “Muffin-based tips gleefully accepted! Remember Land Shark Express Delivery Company for all your super-express delivery needs, including all your valuable legal documents! All delivery ponies licensed and bonded. Have a fin-tastic day!” With that the mare zipped off, the empty carts taken away by the other delivery personnel.

Twilight stood in the midst of it all, taking in the magnitude of what she had unleashed upon herself. It was as though the universe was mocking her. Her victories were significant, no doubt. She was crippling the studio by taking away the spontaneity of the scenes and inflicting the rubber-on-rubber squeaking into the production. They could not live on their oral and toy scenes. They would need genital contact in order to keep an audience's attention.

She lifted up several of the boxes and brought them inside, stacking them with the others that Spike had brought in. Flipping through the blue papers she found several that showed significant objections to the proposed law on numerous grounds, including restraint of trade. “They want to go all the way with this...” She muttered.

“What was that?” Spike asked as he bore in one of the last boxes.

“Spike, I'll need you to take a letter and send it to Princess Celestia, to get us on the court calendar, the big one, no substitutions. Then you'll have to go to that studio once you get a reply and take them the official court date,” Twilight brought in the last of the boxes and shut the door. “I'll take the home court advantage and pull strings until they break. Just remember to keep the cameras on and the anti-porn brigade chanting. So far everything on my checklist is going according to plan...” She looked around again at all the things she would have to read and catalog. “Mostly...”

Spike hit his belly and let out a belch, acrid green smoke puffing out, but nothing more, which suited him just fine. It beat the heavy flurry of back-and-forth messages. The outgoing messages were fine, of course but the volume of the incoming ones really made him long for that day he accidentally poured the ghost pepper sauce over a giant burrito. He had assumed dragons were entirely immune to pain but that had been a wake-up call.

After completing Twilight's task, Spike was back at the studios again. He was used to the jaunt from the office to the place. It hardly fazed him anymore. He stepped up to the front desk and thumped it solidly. “Hey, can you tell me where Hoity Toity is? I have important papers for him,” Spike said, giving the mare behind the desk a semi-perverse look.

“Let me get him for you,” The cream-colored mare named Opal said. “Beryl, what's Hoity doing today?” Opal asked to the other mare behind her at the front desk.

“He's filming, or trying to anyhow,” Beryl replied, making Spike smile wider. “He's probably given up and gone to salon three.”

“I'll call him and inform him you will be arriving, so he stays put. It will make you leave faster,” Opal said with some bitterness. She picked up her phone with magic and dialed an internal number. “Yes, Mister Toity? That dragon is here again. Claims to have papers for you. I'm sending him to you. Right, very good.” She hung up and gave Spike a studio map. “Just in case you don't have your boss's blueprint of the studio. She probably doesn't trust you with it.”

Spike snatched the map with a derisive snort and unfolded it. “I just didn't take it from the office. It's not that Twilight doesn't trust me...”

Opal opened one of the doors from the lobby. “Then follow the map through there.”

“I know where I'm going,” Spike asserted, striking a confident pose. “I'm quite a navigator.” With that he strolled through the door and down the corridor.

He had to consult his map as soon as he had closed the door. He would never give those unicorns the satisfaction of looking like they were right but the place had the worst layout possible for a building. His focus on the map blocked his view of the walls for the first part of his trip. That wasn't usually a problem, as they tended to be nature scenes over sayings by that minotaur that worked there, or the odd video cover.

The posters along the wall were all video covers. More to the point, they were all video covers featuring Rarity. Her whole post-pony career was represented, from her Hearth's Warming production 'Dog-Pounding Princess Platinum' to the only know movie featuring bondage with leashes still attached to other collars 'Screwed by the Pooches.' 'Whore, Mine and Hours.' 'Kennel Club.' 'Buried Bones' one through twelve. 'Two in a Tunnel.' They all passed by his eyes, reminding him of his long night of watching Rarity's video violations and being unable to stroke it because of the presence of his puritanical boss.

The familiar stirring awoke in his loins, a warmth rising in his trembling hips as he walked down the halls. It could have been a coincidence. Besides Fluttershy the Virtual Virgin, Rarity the Dog-Packed Damsel was the studio's biggest name. Of course they would proudly display her successes. That thought held for a while. Until he noticed that his very specific path was all Rarity. It had to have been intentional.

Spike ground his teeth and tried to put all his focus into the map. The map was everything. The universe was the map and the map was the universe. Then one stray bit of peripheral vision caught a milk-white thigh spread around a letter in the title. 'I don't know what that is. I don't know what that is. I don't know what that is...' His pants tightened more as the lump at the front strained the material even more. 'Buck it all to Tartarus, I know what that is. Map, map, map...

After walking the gauntlet of posters that unlocked every perverted sexual moment associated with the titles and images shown he arrived at the door to salon three, helpfully marked, 'Salon 3.' By that point, Spike's trousers were baring concealing his raging erection. “Finally. I never really had to think about that Hoity Toity guy but dude he needs to hang out in easier-to-find places.” He turned the handle and held up the paper. “I have a subpoena and I'm here to serve you...”

The door opened into an open, square room, tastefully decorated with reproductions of antique furniture and lots of lace, giving it the atmosphere of a classy receiving room. There was even music being piped in, a string quartet. It was just another sign that Hoity gave his actors only the best. However, the stallion himself was not present. Instead the room was occupied by a pack of Diamond Dogs. In fact it was all of the ones that worked at the studio, lounging about on the many couches and overstuffed chairs, reading books or magazines or chatting. The eight canid creatures were a small sampling of the Diamond Dog types, Butch being the sole example of the medium pointed-ear type, Rex being just one of the four Dig Dogs, the others being various shades of sandy yellow. There was also one of the smaller semi-flop-eared type, with a black coat, and two of the long, lanky, floppy-eared types, one of them with a reddish coat.

Butch perked his ears on hearing Spike's lead-in line and, on noticing his rather tented trousers, turned to the other Dogs with a grin. “That's the most sub-par subpoena I've ever seen. But if you want to serve us it would be rude to say no. Anyone here call for a fluffer?”

Amidst all the laughter and pointing one of the other Dig Dogs said, “Not me! Whenever I see Miss Rarity, I give her something she could hang her towels on!” He thrust his loincloth-covered hips forward and barked for emphasis.

The black-furred Dog got on the phone, dialing an internal number. “Hey, Opal? Yes, he did just show up. Yea, there's still some laughing. Thanks for the help. Hoof-bump Beryl for me. Thanks.”

Spike was too shocked to be upset. He just fell into an annoyed scowl and huffed out some green smoke. “Where is Mister Toity? I have legal papers for him.”

“He's in studio six, setting up for our filming later on today. If you rush you can catch him before we get on the stage and start... well, you can guess why they need us on a stage,” Rex said, ending with a laugh that was soon echoed by the rest of the Dogs.

Spike flipped off the Dogs with both hands and, as an afterthought, stuck out his ridiculously long tongue, waving it around in the air and showing off a great deal of lingual dexterity. After making his tongue dance and twist around he sucked it back into his mouth, giving a smug smile. “Jealous?”

While most of the Dogs were surprised by the act Butch waved the display off. “Sorry. We're all straight and your tish-tickling tongue didn't convince us to change teams.”

The Dogs all broke into raucous laughter as Spike stomped off, muttering angrily. “Lousy, slobbering, gem-stealing ass-sniffers... and those mares at the front... they planned this together! I can't believe this.” He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and ran rather unceremoniously into a figure walking much more slowly than him. “Hey! Watch where you're-”

“What?! Oh my dear! I am terribly sorry!” The stricken figure turned to reveal that it was Rarity. She was attired in an elaborate dress, primarily pink with yellow sashes on the bell portion hung with gems. On her head rested a modest gold tiara. The bell very nicely hid her pregnant belly. “I did not even know you were there! I am afraid I must walk a bit slowly to keep my attire looking proper. The cost of fabulosity, I'm afraid.”

“O-oh! Rarity! I'm sorry. I should have looked where I was going,” Spike said, running a hand over his head spines, falling into step beside Rarity. “I was, uh, actually looking for Mister Toity but... uh, I'd much rather be with you.”

“Goodness... that is quite flattering of you to say. You have most excellent luck, I am on my way to meet him on stage to... attempt... a filming. Since the pressure increased upon us filming has been a difficult proposition, at best,” Rarity said with a downward tilt of her head. “But we press on. This is not only our livelihood, this is our art. Our raison d'être as it were. I feel for Mister Toity, I truly do. As an artist myself I cannot help but empathize with his plight. This disaster affects us all...”

“Yea, that's... unfortunate...” Spike looked down at the ground, feeling a bit chastened. “But, you know... regulations and the sort...” Whatever he felt for the Dogs, and however he wanted Rarity to get out of her job, it was honestly hurting him to see her so distraught. But it was necessary. She would have to be weaned off of it. He'd comfort her and give her something to do with herself after her retirement.

Rarity looked aside at him and smiled. “You know... I never did ask your name. I have been so busy lately...”

Spike snapped his lapels and took on a sudden happy appearance. “Spike the dragon! Sorry it took so long to tell you but I guess we've both been kind of busy.”

“Indeed. But such is life. It is something of a pleasure to meet you, Spike. You are quite pleasant, in contrast to your employer. Oh! Not that I mean to be unkind...” Rarity said, with a blush.

“No, it's alright,” Spike said with a light laugh, “She's hard to take, but she's good at her job.”

“Sounds like some of my costars.” Rarity said with a giggle as Spike's face fell.

They walked on in silence to the studio, which was like all the rest save for the shooting stage. That was set up to resemble the bright, open front room of a mansion, with white couches and plenty of pillows around. Aside from the usual technical ponies wandering around, Hoity and Photo were looking over the script while Fluttershy and Iron Will were sitting in folding chairs, talking quietly to one another and occasionally rubbing muzzles. Both Iron Will and Fluttershy were wearing matching earmuffs, the ear portions of puffy white faux fur with rabbit ears coming out of the tops, a rather annoyed rabbit face on the round portions themselves.

“Miss Rarity, so glad you have arrived, we can begin setting up the opening shots for...” Hoity turned from the script, tone mild and almost exhausted before he set eyes on Spike. “You! So, your scheming Malvolia has decided to send a lackey in her place. Did she lose her stomach for observing our work?”

“No, she's busy with that mountain of documents your army of lawyers sent to us,” Spike said, trying not to answer the anger in front of Rarity. He strode up to Hoity and handed off his papers. “You're served. There's the trial date and information.”

“Yes, it was an army of lawyers, wasn't it, Miss Finish?” Hoity said, with a slight turn of his head towards Photo.

“Ja, ja Herr Toity. Eine große Armee,” Photo said, nodding her head quickly and smiling at Hoity.

“A large army indeed...” Hoity took a look at the paper, a look of surprising passing briefly over his face. “So... we warrant the Grand Court, do we? How complimentary.” He folded the paper and tucked it into his pocket. “Very well, you have discharged your subpoena. You may go now.”

“Mister Toity,” Fluttershy said, softly, “Maybe we should let him stay. This is part of his job and his boss might want him to observe. Besides, he seems nice.”

“Yea. Compared to Miss Sparkle he's not so bad,” Iron Will said, nodding sagely. “But that's not saying much. Compared to Miss Sparkle, a hot sauce enema's not so bad.”

“Indeed! Having spoken to him as I was coming he was gallant enough to walk with me and open enough to admit even he found his employer hard to take,” Rarity said.

“What harm could It do? You did seem far more appreciative of our activities than your employer. I believe you have the capacity for fairness and impartiality which that mare lacks,” Hoity tapped his chin and gave a small wave to Spike. “Very well, find yourself an unobtrusive vantage point and please try to avoid interfering with the technical employees.

Spike somewhat-reluctantly shuffled off to the side, stationing himself behind a convenient crate. He was out of the way and very had to spot. “No problem. I'm just here to observe. Your business is none of my business, except as a consumer.”

Hoity smiled and looked to the clock on the wall. “The time is nearly upon us. Let us... well, we will do as best we can.”

“I know you'll do great, Rarity,” Fluttershy said, smiling brightly at her friend.

“Don't be afraid, just get yourself laid!” Iron Will bellowed, giving a thumbs up.

Rarity sashayed onto the set and posed a few time for the cameras. “How do I look, Mister Toity? Perfect as ever?”

Hoity looked though the camera lens and nodded to the camera pony that had stepped to the side. “Perfect! Once the others have arrived we can begin. Please just remember the new dialogue that is... necessitated by the situation in which we find ourselves.”

The crew did not have long to wait before the whole company of Diamond Dogs arrived, outfitted in outrageous attire, consisting primarily of distressed denim vests in a variety of colors, tank tops, bandanas on their heads as a cover of headband, costume jewelry necklaces with showy pendants and fake gold rings. “Let's get it started!” Butch shouted, causing the other Dogs to let out lout, powerful howls.

“Very good,” Hoity said, pointing to the various technical folks. “Let us make the effort, fillies and gentlecolts. 'Lady and the Tramps' filming, lights, camera... Princesses help us... action!”

Rarity started to sashay grandly around the set, fluffing pillows and humming pleasantly to herself. “This will be a grand gathering, indeed! Ah, the Grand Galloping Gala will only aspire to such wonder. Only the finest of ponies in all of Equestria shall be here, and I, Lady Gemsworth, shall be hailed as the grandest hostess in the nation.” A sound effect played from off the set of a doorbell ringing. “Ah, perfect! Here are my esteemed guests.” She lit her horn, to give the impression that she was opening doors and turned away form the direction of the door. “Please, please come in.”

The pack of Dogs strode into the camera's sight, laughing and chattering with one another. “Holy bitch tits that actually worked!” Butch exclaimed, turning to look at the camera in disbelief. “I told you guys!”

Rarity whipped around and gave a loud gasp, backing into a couch and falling onto it. “Oh my word! You! You smelly, perverse, ghetto-dwelling Dogs! How dare you? I told you I never wished to see you again! Now go! I am having company, important company! Leave me now!”

Butch pointed at Rarity and let out a powerful laugh. “Listen to this mare. All we did was shake our sticks at her and she's all offended. How about now that you're not in your big, fancy carriage? Is it still offensive?” Butch moved his loin cloth from his crotch and used his free paw to grab his limp pecker and wave it violently at Rarity. The motion was mirrored by the other seven Dogs, a sea of floppy cocks suddenly facing the scandalized rich mare.

“G-goodness! How... obscene! Vulgar! Disgusting! S-stop it immediately!” Rarity turned her head away and lifted a hoof to hide her face. The camera caught sight of one eager eye opening to cast about over the waving ocean of choads.

“Yea, you tell 'em, Rarity,” Spike muttered softly, alternately looking at Rarity with concern and the Dogs with contempt.

“Aww, come on, you're missing the best parts, when we start getting hard,” Butch insisted.

“Maybe it would be easier to rise to the occasion if we stripped her!” The small, black-furred one said, stepping cautiously closer.

“Ha! Fuck yea!” Butch reached forward and took hold of the beautiful dress with both paws. He made a great show of exerting strength, muscles bulging theatrically as he pulled the velcro seams apart, cleanly stripping the screaming Rarity and revealing her huge, near-term belly for the cameras and all the Dogs. A wave of pride washed over the gathered pack before Butch whistled. “Look at that! Somebody already knocked this dam up!”

“Rarity...” Spike whispered, ducking further behind the crate, one hand beside his face as he watched the violent stripping, the other firmly down the front of his pants, massaging his sudden erection. Whatever was happening to her, she was still there, naked and lewdly spread before his eyes.

Rarity's scream continued, the pitch changing slightly, losing some shrillness after the Dogs began to wince. Her attempts to escape the striping grasp left her settled well up on the pillow-bedecked couch, legs spread out blatantly, showing her vagina, milk-heavy teats and an even greater view of her huge, taut belly. “No! Help me! P-please somepony help me! Somepony save me! You won't get away with this, you... you brutes!”

“Oh, I think we will,” Rex said breezily, throwing a purple ascot on the ground in front of the couch.

“M-my husband's ascot! What have you vile creatures done to him?!” Rarity stared down in disbelief at the piece of cloth.

“We tied him up in that guest house of yours with the rest of your servants. No one to interrupt us now...” Butch asserted, strolling forward and pumping his swiftly-stiffening shaft. Right behind him the others pressed in, similarly growing erect.

“O-oh my... did you... did you do him harm...” Rarity asked with a tremble. She gasped and gaped at the dogs. “Did you ki-”

“What? No!” One of the Dig Dogs said, shaking his head. “We're thugs, not murderers. But, uh, he ain't so pretty no more, not after we got done with him. He's gonna have a headache when he gets up, and it'll get worse when he finds his wife covered in our jizz.”

“Nnngh... Rarity... I... wish I could help you... Save you from... rrrgh... their smelly cocks...” Spike's eyes were half-lidded, just slightly shiny. His tears came from having to see Rarity under attack by brutish Dogs, and from his straining effort to not simply stroke himself as fast as possible. He worked his own rigid member, base to tip and back again, smearing his own preseed to lubricate the activity. He should have been saving her. But he wanted to see her, in all her sexualized glory. He wanted her, but he wanted to enjoy his pleasure, with her legs spread out and pussy pounded for him, like in the other movies.

There was a bit of fumbling and an interruption in the ranks of the pack. All of them had just opened condom packages and were carefully rolling them down their erections, making certain they fit properly and were not being pulled too tightly, risking a tear. Butch slid his own on, then opened up a second package, a fem-dom. The rubber sheath hung limply in his paw, all the dogs and Rarity breaking character by looking at it with a sidelong glance. “Uh, and we need to... protect ourselves... from the... fancy pony diseases she has, being a high class whore like she is...”

“That is... absurd,” Rarity said, in a stilted yet indignant tone, “I am a faithful pony, loyal to my pony husband and have no diseases.” She spread her legs a little more, to give a better view of her vulva.

“I don't believe you. So I'll just...” Butch inserted a finger into the fem-dom, plunging it into Rarity and wiggling it around, making sure that it was securely settled. He even let the wiggling and thrusting go on for a while, so he could grind his finger joint through the rubber and against her clit.

Rarity's head went back a little bit, a soft moan pouring out of her lips. “Ooooh you... you brute... Forcing me to... put in this thing... it... demeans me...” Her objections were silenced by Butch looming over her and sliding his rubber-wrapped rod into her protected pussy. The squeal of rubber-on-rubber rang around the room, Iron Will and Fluttershy both pressing their earmuffs tighter against their heads.

Spike didn't even notice the squeaking. He had shut out the world, save for the tunnel-vision image of those strong Dog hips driving a fat dong into Rarity. He hated that that was what she did, no matter her artistic excuses. But... she was so sexy. So beautiful. Fantastic. Wonderful. She looked good and natural there. Like she had looked on the screen. His hand gripped his dick more firmly and stroked the slimy flesh with increased speed, as more precum smeared all over his shaft. 'He's fucking her. He's fucking her. He's fucking her.' His hips twitched, teeth grinding. A proxy. A mere surrogate. I'm fucking her,' he thought, starting to thrust his hips in time with Butch's thrusts.

It was... horrid, yet exhilarating. Spike was so into it he almost didn't care there was anyone else there, not that they were paying him any mind. He might as well have been absent, which suited him well enough. The thrusts, the shaking of her head, the pushing forward despite it. She was fighting, to a degree, trying to push away. But there was no stopping, no denying, only the hard usage of that spread and rubber-protected passage. She needed a firm lover, and she would get it when he was on her.

“Stop! Stop raping me, it hurts!” Rarity finally cried out a coherent line, rather than the inarticulate gibbers and whimpers. Spike felt a pang of shame and regret. He didn't want to rape her... he didn't! But to dominate her was something else, and it was happening...

“Cut!” Hoity shouted suddenly, rubbing at his head softly. “Cut, cut, cut! That was horrifying!”

Rarity looked over to Hoity with some small bit of annoyance. “It was no more horrifying than any other squeaking bit of sex. Now...” She tried to move from her position but remembered she was still impaled. “Oh, Butch darling, please be a dear and pull out and then remove this ridiculous rubber device.”

Butch pulled his hips back slowly, dragging his lubricated condom against the similarly-greased fem-dom, producing a long, harsh balloon-rubbing squeak. Once he was out, rather than pulling off his own rubber, as all the other Dogs had done after the cutting of the camera, he pulled out Rarity's fem-dom. “There you are.”

“Ah, thank you, darling,” Rarity said, giving Butch a kiss on the cheek before she rolled off the couch and onto her hooves.”

Spike grunted softly, his sexual fantasy and unity with the live sex of the object of his affection breaking when she saw her kiss one of the dogs he despised. “What? No... no... they were lying...” He mumbled to himself, losing his erection rapidly, having not gotten to orgasm. He wiped his hand on the inside of his pants and stood up a bit taller, to watch the scene unfold. Once his member had returned to a completely flaccid state, Spike unceremoniously stuffed it back into his pants and zipped up his fly. His balls weren't the only things left blue. As he watched the Diamond Dogs fawn over Rarity and her return their affections, Spike felt himself becoming more depressed.

“It is not merely that accursed squealing. It is this whole scene. As written, brilliant! As re-written, monstrous,” Hoity said with a shake of his head. “It is wholly unbelievable. The very idea, that street-dwelling thugs would carry around condoms and be afraid of a rich mare's potential infections. And surely they would not bother to add a fem-dom. This increased restriction is making artistry burdensome indeed.”

“Oh yes... yes...” Rarity looked contemplatively down. She then gently patted Butch's paw and gave him a wink. “You know, Mister Toity... they say that should life give one lemons, one ought to make lemonade. Certainly, this whole, dreary business with these prophylactics have hindered most conventional productions, as we do. There is one option to consider.” Rarity pointed over at Fluttershy and Iron Will, who were removing their earmuffs. “As my esteemed colleague Fluttershy and her charming bovine paramour have proven, pro-positive productions may be profitable. Why... we could do a scene of consenting lovemaking! Perhaps... a mare from the upper crust falls madly in love with a dog from the streets? Yes! A beautiful tale!”

Hoity tapped his chin softly as the idea percolated in his head. “We have never done such a thing before. Our current stock is not suffering and we do well but... there may be cause for this sort of change given our altered fortunes...” He mused.

“Nein, I object shtrongly to the idea!” Photo shouted, firmly shaking her head.

“Come now, Miss Finish, do try to consider new potentials. We do not make great art without daring to try. You have always understood that,” Hoity said.

“I know art, und I know accounting. In thish time of reshtriction und privation we musht not alienate our audience. They have their tashte, und have told ush what that ish. It doesh not involve Dogsh behaving like poniesh,” Photo said, turning on the Dogs and pointing firmly. “You are the props that they want, dildosh with legsh to give every appearance of giving Rarity what she doesh not want! You are not beloved, she ish!”

“Yea!” Spike cried out, making every head turn to look at him partially behind the crate. “No one likes you! All you do is poach gems from dragon hoards or steal them out of dragon mining plots! And you're always dirty. At least we dragons have hot springs and lava pools to get clean.” In response, all the Diamond Dogs flipped off Spike in unison.

“The unrelenting bureaucrat bringsh a different take but he ish no lessh correct! You have no cachet with the audience. We would make nothing if we tried to make you clean-cut model citizensh. Now return your condomsh to place und pretend to rape Fraulein Rarity in all your shavage, Doggish waysh!”

Rarity had been silently taking in all the statements, her face set in a carefully neutral mask that was cracking at the edges, the occasional downward flick of the corners of her mouth or furrow of her brows giving sign of her true feeling. After Photo's unkind command Rarity turned on Spike and huffed, “I thought better of you, dragon.” Spike felt his heart break. Rarity's disapproval may as well have been a slap in the face. She then pointed at Photo. “Miss Finish! I simply can't work under these conditions. If you please I wish to speak with you privately in your office! It is most vital.” Without further comment she turned from all and made her way out of the studio, leaving all present nonplussed.

Photo stormed into her office a short time later, having stomped all the way there. She found Rarity there, sitting in front of her desk, snout in the air, looking eyes closed. Photo stalked around to the other side of the desk, siting up the rather haughty-looking Rarity. The room was deathly silent, save for the perfectly-synchronized ticking of Photo's vast collection of clocks, including several antique cuckoo clocks.

Photo was the one to break the stalemate, leaning forward slightly and asking, in a cold voice, “Do you have a comment on my methodsh?”

“The Dogs. My Dogs. My precious costars,” Rarity said, slowly lowering her head and opening her eyes, giving Photo an uncharacteristically hard and unforgiving stare.

“Und... what do you have to shay about them? You have some complaint?” Photo asked, tone even but slightly offended.

"You're so thoughtless," Rarity said, frowning, "You treat them more like fuckable furniture."

"Well, how would you have me treat them?" Photo Finish asked, tilting her head.

"Like the actors they were born to be," Rarity said, "These are gifted souls. I know they can do more than grunt and cum on command. Diamond dogs are sensitive and caring lovers. I have long known this. I think all Equestria deserves to know it."

Photo Finish laughed mirthlessly and waved it off with a huff. "Ach, ridiculous," Photo Finish said, "I could go out to the cavesh und bring back a whole new pack of Dogsh to schtup you with. There would be no difference, they would perform the actsh und no pony would know we had changed a thing."

"But they deserve better than this," Rarity said, "It is always the same demeaning role every picture. Diamond Dogs don't engage in the sort of savage, primitive rape orgies like the ones in our movies. They are civilized creatures and very developed in their subterranean homes. I should know; I have been there many times."

"It'sh creative freedom," Photo Finish said, "Beshides darling, why do you worry sho much about the caninesh? You are the real shtar of the picture!"

“They are as much the stars as me!” Rarity shouted, rising suddenly and placing her hooves on the desk. “They work as hard as I do. Harder! They must exhaust themselves sexually for my pleasure and for their art! And how they suffer... you think it is difficult for me to act contemptuously towards them? How much more it is for them, to look down on me, spit in my face or call me names that would never pass their lips. They know their art but their souls are loving and kind.”

Photo leaned back on the cushion behind her desk, a smile on her face. “The customer ish right, und that ish reality. They do not think Diamond Dogsh can act und frankly, I queshtion their capability to do anything more complicated than the rolesh we have done.”

Rarity stood stock still, teetering between anger and sorrow. She took a deep breath and released it with a calming motion of her hooves. “You have always claimed to have faith in your stars, myself included. If you have such faith in my abilities you would take a chance on letting them act.” She looked to the door but remained seated. “Since you're too much of a coward to take that risk you leave me no choice but to take my leave of this place.”

Photo seethed slightly but attempted to remain just as calm. “Fraulein... I know you are angry right now. But think of your career, your fansh, your future. Und please think of all of ush, the shtudio, the fate of porn in the nation! We musht be shtrong und united for the trial if we are to shurvive. There is no shame in shurvival.”

“I don't care,” Rarity said calmly, having to take a moment to make herself believe that. “I don't care anymore. I... I'm leaving here. I don't care about your solidarity or the audience's petty bigotry. I know what really matters in this life, what is truly important...” She rubbed slowly at her heavy belly. Weeks, at most, before she could see the pup growing within. “I shall go and say my goodbyes. I hope you can bear the loss of those eight sweet souls. The public thinks little of their emotions but I know they will follow me as I leave.” With a final sniff Rarity slowly trotted out of the office. To express some measure of her anger she used her magic to slam the door, inadvertently setting off several of the cuckoo clocks and creating a chorus of mechanical cuckoos.

“Wait! Fraulein...” Photo thumped a hoof down on her desk, growling softly. “How dare she..?” She looked down at her desk, filled with schedules, promotional materials and other such bits. Titles that Rarity had been in seemed to leap out at her eyes, as did photos of a swooning or disgusted Rarity with leering Dogs.

Photo remembered the times she had seen Rarity off of the set. She was all smiles and light in the arms of the big, friendly Dogs that often pressed in around her. The kind kisses that pressed on Rarity's cheeks and neck filled Photo's mind. The warm massages Photo had seen them give, with warm oil rubs besides. They had done all they could, like fawning unpopular students following a cheerleader. But unlike such folk, Rarity cared.

A slight move of Photo's hoof on the desk revealed the hardest movie they had ever made. 'Doggy Dominion.' A dark dystopian vision of a Dog-run society. Other mares had featured in it, but Rarity had been the main attraction. She played the pony leader, and so was subjected to much 'activity.' They had not used any actual sadistic touches, like the quasi-legal underground pornography that pushed boundaries. There had been much post-production work and a lot of tricky camera angles, especially for the usage of toys that were so large as to be comical. But there had been an incident. During an alleged 'interrogation' scene when pulled punches were brought against her (later enhanced with sound effects) one Dog had miscalculated a swing while she was in motion and had actually landed a firm blow. Despite the pain, she had been a professional and completed the scene. She had come out of the ordeal in no state to work, and every Dog had felt guilty.

The talk at the studio had involved Dogs constantly at her apartment, rubbing unguents on her sore parts, helping her move around, even making breakfast in bed. She had come back stronger than ever before, and far more enthusiastic. They never did another production like that, it had been enough to have one.

Photo looked at the clocks on the walls. Normally they were in perfect synch. But Rarity's parting outburst had knocked several of them out of sorts. There was not the comforting synchronized ticking as she expected but a cacophonous sea of ticking. It reflected the condition of their studio, with the normally-secure company cracking at the edges.

In the meantime, Rarity had returned to the stage, still in tears. “R-rarity!” Spike cried, running towards her as she arrived.

The pack beat him there, swarming in and leaving no free space for the interloping dragon. “What just happened?” The small, black one asked.

“It would appear that Photo Finish thinks little of you. And if she thinks little of you, she thinks little of me. I think... I must leave. I know it is sudden and unexpected, but if this is what has always been behind the scenes then this is no place for a lady. This is my decision alone, so please do not make any rash-”

“Yea... we're going with you,” One of the tall Dogs said. The others all muttered agreement.

“Wait!” Fluttershy raised a hoof and gave an uncharacteristic shout, halting any comment form the other folks in the room. “Um, I mean... please, reconsider, Rarity. You can't just leave.”

“Oh darling...” Rarity said, moving through the sea of bodies to Fluttershy, wrapping the soft pegasus up in a warm embrace. “I know you mean well but... you saw what that mare did. And in her office... I certainly know where she stands.”

“Can't you just give her one more chance? She knows how you feel now. Maybe she can change. We all deserve a chance, don't we?” Fluttershy gave rarity a small smile. “You used to think bad things about Diamond Dogs too...”

“What a fool I used to be,” Rarity whispered, looking over the smiling, somewhat sheepish-looking canids. “I... have trusted Photo all these years. She knew what sold, and I accepted it. But I grow weary of never loving them as they should be loved. On camera, I mean. I so freely love them away from from the judging eyes of pony society.”

While Spike looked completely hurt and rushed out of the room, Fluttershy smiled at Rarity and gave her mane a soft brush with a hoof. “She was just looking out for you, and for the studio. You have to understand what ponies are going through. And now... we have a big problem. We need to be strong. Just wait until this all blows over. Then you can decide if you still...” Fluttershy trailed off and looked away.

Rarity gave Fluttershy another hug. “I will stay, then. I know how much this matters, how much you need this career.” Rarity looked to Iron Will and smiled. “How much you both need this. It would be terribly improper of me to weaken this family of ours when we must be strong. And to take away the livelihoods of these Dogs... no. There will be time to see what Miss Finish is truly made of...”

That night Hoity was in his private office, in darkness save for a soft, pale light in the ceiling over his large, circular bed. The curtains were all drawn around the bed, allowing only his moving silhouette to be seen over Photo's distinctive form. They appeared to be at the end of a session of sex, Photo licking the last drops of seed from the end of Hoity's fat, long rod. She lapped around the blunt crown and sucked on the very tip to ensure she had not missed a thing. Only when it was all finished did they settled against one another, tangled in the silk sheets.

There was silence for a time, save for the soft huff of slowing breath, with Photo staring into the semi-darkness at the thin curtain around the bed. “Liebchen,” She said, in a near whisper, “Do you think I am a bigot?”

Hoity did not answer for a moment, but finally said, “I do not think you have any trouble at all representing anyone, and it shows in your bottom line.” He ran his hoof along Photo's full backside and smiled. “In so many ways...”

“Ach, I ashk you a sherious question und I get your humor. I have no mood for it tonight. The truth, liebchen. I want the truth...”

Hoity sighed softly and kissed Photo on the neck. “In truth? You know what the numbers mean. But you don't know what it all really means.”

“In thish time, with all our troublesh, how can I not know what the numbersh mean? It ish my job to know, now more than ever...” Photo said, kissing Hoity back.

“I understand, you care much for this studio and for everything it represents,” Hoity said, sliding a hoof up to cup one of Photo's fat, soft teats, “But we work with real ponies, and others. You had no objections to lavishing praise on Mister William, even though he was new. But you never had a kind word or kind role for any of the Diamond Dogs that our good lady Rarity thinks the world of. I, too, am afraid of change. Our productions work, they do not seem to need fixing. But then I remember I am, as well, artistic. And I wonder what else I may do with the actors who are my palette.”

“I do not fear change,” Photo said quietly, “I fear we will alienate the our audience. They expect our Dogsh will have one role and one role only. To be the rude, overpowering und uncaring brutesh. Maybe I have taken in the ideas of our audience. I have to know their wantsh und secret desires. They want to shee Rarity, a figure of purity und pony perfection, violated. They do not know or care she lovesh the caninesh, they only want to have her shamed.”

Hoity drew Photo into a tight, powerful embrace. “Fluttershy got her to stay for the duration of the trial. Win or lose we may be without her. She will be expecting more positive actions from you. I do not wish to pressure you...”

“Do it. I cannot remain sho cruel. I claim I care for my clientsh. I have betrayed Fraulein Rarity. All because it ish eashy to be unkind to Diamond Dogsh. Everypony holds some negativity in their heart toward them, or that ish how it appearsh. But... I should know better. I want to be better.”

Hoity rested his snout on Photo's neck, eyes slowly closing. “I believe you...” He said, letting his voice trail off.

A small tear slid down Photo's cheek as she settled against Hoity, sleep eluding her as she said the unstated portion of Hoity's sentence, “For now.”