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The pastel blue unicorn groaned, and with her one barely-free hoof, pushed herself forwards. The weight of her body on the wooden floorboards resisted, and she strained against it. After a struggle, friction finally gave in, and she moved—less than an inch. Trixie whimpered. Soon, her captors would be back, and nopony would ever find out what happened to her—but she could barely move to get away, and her pathetic stage magic would be no defense. She could hear them coming, and if they caught her trying to escape... a delightful shiver ran up her spine. They would be rough, no question about that.
There was a heavy knock on the door, and Trixie blinked twice as her fantasy dissipated. She braced her head against the floor and pushed herself forward again, dislodging the cloth wrapped around her muzzle that held in the sock that stuffed her mouth. Fortunately, the door of her wagon was locked and the windows were shuttered, or she'd risk somepony else seeing her like this. The knock came again, and she quickly spat out her makeshift gag to call out a reply.
"Yes, who's there? What do you want from the Great and Powerful Trixie?" Great and Powerful was certainly not how she felt, just then. Her body was lying on its side, almost completely immobilized by a web of soft, comfortable, and above all durable ropes with which she'd tied herself. Her legs were bound tightly to each other and against her belly; she'd only left one hoof partially free, to make sure she would be able to escape without help.
To get free, Trixie would have to reach the knife on the floor at the other end of the wagon. Of course, trick knots were foal’s play to a trained magician, but their place was on the stage. In private, she never used them, and would need the knife to cut herself free. Crossing the wagon to retrieve it would have been easy if her head were free, but with the high collar she'd acquired from a travelling minotaur salesman a few months before, she could barely move it at all. The tough material held her chin high and her neck rigid; she thought it might be leather, but hadn’t dared ask.
To ensure her helplessness, she had run another rope to the base of her tail from a D-ring on the back of the collar and secured it there. It kept her from moving her head and neck forward at all, and just as excitingly, it pulled her tail up and away from her rear, leaving her sex embarrassingly exposed.
Trixie almost wished whoever it was would come in. The look on their face, and the humiliated fire burning in her own, would be priceless.
"O Great and Powerful Trixie! It is I, your humble admirer, Steady Pace!" a colt's voice called back. "Your show is supposed to start in a few minutes! Are you okay?"
The mare banished her last thought. The last thing she needed was for a foal to see her current predicament. Her shows were popular with the children in particular—their parents were her biggest source of income—and the ensuing scandal would not only lose what little respect she'd managed to rebuild, but probably cost her what was left of her career.
"The Great and Powerful Trixie is..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. Under ordinary circumstances, the right words were easy to come by, but her commanding stage tone struggled to assert itself. After a moment of thought, the unicorn managed, "She will not be late. A wizard is never late, nor is she early! She arrives precisely when she means to. And Trixie is certainly okay! She most certainly does not require any assistance whatsoever!"
She paused for effect.
"Be gone!"
"Yes, O Great and Powerful Trixie!" The hoofsteps outside scampered off, and Trixie turned her mind back to her task. Ordinarily, her mind would be all she needed, but earlier that evening, a reflexive attempt to reach out and use a telekinesis spell to levitate her knife over had left her winded, her head pounding as though she'd galloped straight into a brick wall. That was courtesy of a small, glowing band locked onto the base of her horn. She'd managed to sweet-talk the warden into letting her purchase a few of the magical inhibitors to take with her when she was released from prison, where she'd served a few months for her stunts in Ponyville with the Alicorn Amulet and its domineering black magic. The inhibitors made excellent additions to her escape acts on stage—which, in turn, had quickly become real escape acts in private.
That memory was still fresh in her mind and fantasies. She'd thought it would be appropriate and entertaining to make escape trickery the focus of her first show after prison. While not many ponies were still willing to give her act a chance, and the audience had been small, she had planned and anticipated the crowd's reactions perfectly, and her reputation slowly began to rebuild itself. Thankfully, the other ponies hadn't noticed the effect the false bondage had on Trixie, whose cheeks had been alight for every moment, and whose squirming had been more genuine than not. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that she liked her ropes for more than the bits they brought in, and her imagination sometimes treasured the idea that somepony there had been able to tell.
But Trixie had to stop getting distracted. Her reputation and income were far from solid enough to afford missing a show—being late would likely mean skipping a meal or worse, grazing. She struggled harder in her efforts to push herself across the floor, and the ropes strained with her. Her writhing set the knots she'd tied between her legs to rocking back and forth along her already-slick labia. She gasped, forced to stop and collect herself, when the forward-most knot brushed against her clit. Another few inches, and she had to stop again, panting heatedly from the touch of her bonds. If only she could reach out to take the knife or undo her knots... but with her magic locked away, she was helpless as a foal. Just then, anypony could have outdone her at anything.
It was a mistake to let her mind go down that path, but Trixie couldn't help it. She was already deeply aroused, and stopping her thoughts from drifting back to Ponyville and Twilight Sparkle was impossible. The younger unicorn—now alicorn, and Princess—hadn't merely stood up against her despite the dark and mind-twisting power of the Alicorn Amulet. Trixie had reasoned out, during her copious time for reflection in prison, that Twilight had duped her with one of the oldest magicians' tricks in the book. She'd simply had some of her friends dye their coats, then teleported them to switch places, making it appear—by mere slight-of-horn—that she had done the impossible. Even though Trixie knew she hadn’t been in her right mind while under the Amulet’s mind-twisting power, it had been utterly humiliating to understand she'd fallen for one of her own tricks. As a magician herself, she should have seen through it.
Trixie caught herself struggling again, not to move forward, but to bring a hoof between her hind legs. If she didn’t force her thoughts and arousal aside, however, the next day would be no more than a cesspool of hunger and misery. Gathering her will, Trixie pushed herself to focus on the last few inches, and was finally able to lay her muzzle down by the handle of the knife. She grasped the handle with her teeth, and used an overbite motion to flip it down towards her hooves. A short struggle later her half-bound hoof was cut free, and from there the rest was easy.
With no time to lose, Trixie levitated her cape and hat into place and made a dash for the stage.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Ponies were beginning to disperse when Trixie arrived, but most of those who had started to head home—it was late, going on bedtime for most ponies—were quickly pulled back in when the showmare made a sudden appearance, substituting an invisibility spell with a spotlight, brilliant fireworks, and a dramatic blare of ethereal trumpets.
Though it took more focus and crowd-manipulation than usual, she was able to get her acts on track. Soon the crowd was cheering, calling for more and more magical performance, and most importantly, tipping. There was no point charging an entry fee in such a small village; there were no facilities to house a private crowd, and most ponies could easily look out their windows to watch. Besides, free shows meant more ponies to spread the word. While that meant little money in her purse for the time being, the lost profit was a sound investment in her future.
Even as she continued her flamboyant act and settled from her earlier arousal into the groove, Trixie's mind wandered. Though losing it had been for the best, she still half-wished she had held onto the Alicorn Amulet for her professional life. Instead of struggling to get by with small-town "crowds" and up to a dozen bits each night, she would put on incredible shows for thousands of ponies, and make enough money to buy her family's Canterlot estate out from under them. Her defeat by Twilight Sparkle and loss of the Amulet's dark power had only made her all the more conscious of her existence as no more than a show pony, as a mere magician from a family of sorcerers; as a petty illusionist; as a disowned disappointment.
But Trixie was better than that now. If there was one thing she had learned from the hollow experience of controlling Ponyville and from the pair of rehabilitative courses she’d undertaken in prison, it was that every triumph was so much sweeter if it was earned. And earn it she could. She was strong and young, and there were many years of achievement left ahead of her. Above all, she was The Great and Powerful Trixie, and from every fall, she had stood up stronger. From that thought, that feeling of strength, she crafted an intangible aether glaze that added an extra touch of realism to her illusions and magical misdirections.
And so the show went on. But while she rested behind the stage and let a young earth pony stallion from the audience saw in half a box containing an illusory doppelganger of her, the double animated and voiced by advanced ventriloquy magic, Trixie noticed not every pony in the audience was impressed. One hooded, purple-tailed grey pony, near the back, had not so much as smiled. Hecklers, Trixie could handle—she'd had more than her share, once word about her from Ponyville started getting around—but this mare simply took in the view and, on occasion, blinked.
It was too late, however, to change up her acts and try to appeal to absolutely everypony. There was only the finale left, and while many adults did find it entertaining, it was the foals she aimed to please. Trading places with her illusion and stepping out of the box unharmed—much to the crowd's delight—Trixie dismissed the stallion.
"Now, my ponies, watch in awe, for the final act begins!” she announced. “Behold the true tale of the Great and Powerful Trixie"—her horn painted a magical outline of herself against the sky, show ensemble and all—"and the Horror from the Everfree Forest! I give you now the monstrous, the raging, the fearsome—the Ursa Major!"
There was a chorus of oohs and hushed applause from the foals as Trixie’s outline was joined in the sky by that of an enormous celestial bear, easily hundreds of times her size. The two did battle, with a town-shaking roar added for special effect. The battle concluded with Trixie the clear-if-battered victor, and the show drew to a close to enthusiastic cheers from the younger ponies. Some of the adults thanked her for their children's entertainment with a bit or two.
One day, Trixie thought as she watched the gathered townsfolk begin to disperse, they would thank her with calls for an encore again. It seemed she still had to earn that back. Her eye wandered to one particular pony again, near the back of the crowd. The same grey mare blinked at her once, then turned towards the road out of town.
If there was anything Trixie had learned about the show business since her disastrous appearances in Ponyville, it was the importance of feedback. She quickly ditched her hat and cape, secured her tip jar in a hidden "trick" compartment under the stage, and rushed to catch up; fortunately for her, the mare held a slow and easy pace.
"So!" Trixie began, slowing to a walk beside her. "Trixie hasn’t seen you at one of her shows before. What did you think?"
The grey mare lowered the hood of her dark teal jacket, and her straight purple mane fell into place, perfectly complementing her tail. She turned her head to spare the unicorn an indifferent glance.
"It was nice," she deadpanned.
Nice? The show had taken all of Trixie's effort, her planning, her unquestionable talent for the magician's craft, and all she could get for it was a "nice"? She shuddered. It was like she was "home" again. No matter how hard she worked, or how much she practiced, when she went to show her parents in the sitting room—surely, she'd finally win their approval this time—she was summarily dismissed.
"That's nice, dear," her mother's disaffected voice would mutter. She wouldn't even look up from whatever academic journal or book-long study in magical theory she would always be reading. "Now, go back to your room and at least try to cast the lightning cantrips our tutor showed you. Your brother and sister were summoning their elements before they could even talk. And this, from my oldest. Such a shame," she finished with a sigh, as though the filly weren't even in the room.
"I'm sorry!" Trixie cried, snapping out of her thoughts at the sound of her own voice. Startled by the real world's reappearance, she stammered for a few seconds before pushing her usual facade back into place and trotting to catch up again. She still had to hold back and squash a volley of pleading for another chance to do better before she could continue. "I mean—a-hem. That is to say, Trixie is sorry you didn't enjoy the show, and would offer a refund, but nopony can give back free. What more could she have done to truly capture your imagination?"
The grey pony gave her another indifferent look. "You could have turned a pony into a rock," she droned.
"Excuse me?" Trixie stammered. She ran the idea past what she knew of magical theory, but no. Even with the Alicorn Amulet, that would have been impossible. She had paid too much attention in her History of Magic lessons to forget that it took the Elements of Harmony to turn a living creature to stone. Even then, that only worked on one particular creature. A cockatrice could also do it, but no pony had ever managed to imitate the strange magic of any beast from the Everfree Forest. Besides, she was not making such a dangerous monster part of her show. Yet.
"You could have turned a pony into a rock," the other mare said, stopping to look her in the eyes and drone the words out slowly, as if speaking to a foal. Trixie's face flushed hotly, and she had to struggle to keep her thoughts from slipping back to her family again. "I like rocks."
"But that's impossible! Of course, if it were possible, Trixie would love to feature it in her show. The audience is always right, as they say." Trixie paused to swallow a growing knot in her throat. Perhaps if she had more money, she could have a statue made of herself, and then she could trade places with it to shock her audience... but on a single saved bit each day, that would have to wait.
For now, there could be no pleasing this pony. She would simply have to accept that failure and try to move on. It wouldn't be long, anyway, before her savings would be enough to take her show back to the road, and hopefully to larger towns and audiences. Not Ponyville, of course, but if she was willing to eat lightly for a few days, she might even make it all the way to the outskirts of Manehattan or Fillydelphia before running out of bits again. "Anyway, thank you for your feedback, of course. It was nice to meet you, Miss...?"
"My name is Maud Pie." The name rang a few bells. The Pie family had been the first ponies willing to hire Trixie after her first visit to Ponyville, and she had worked with them again as part of her prison’s work-release and rehabilitation program. Though rough around the edges, the Pies were good ponies with kind hearts, but the memory of her time identifying and gathering ripened geodes for shelter, gravel-laden meals, and two bits a day… its soul-crushing bleakness filled her with determination to remain self-employed for as long as possible.
She had to put those thoughts aside. Granny Pie had once mentioned, with great pride, a granddaughter who had left for college; perhaps that meant Maud.
"Well, it's very nice to meet you, Miss Pie. Trixie is afraid no pony can turn another to stone, but perhaps she will see you in the crowd again tomorrow?" The earth pony stared silently in response, until Trixie nervously shifted her weight to her left hooves. "Ah, good night?"
"I can," Maud said.
"What?!"
"I can turn a pony into a rock."
Trixie took a step back, her knees weakening. It was several moments before she finally found a way to transmogrify her incredulity into words. "How can you—what—I—how? You're an earth pony! You can't do magic!" Maud looked completely serious—not that she ever hadn't—but her claim was outrageous! Trixie knew even earth ponies had their own kind of magic, but spells and conjuration were the domain of unicorns. That included petrification, if ponies could actually do it. They couldn't. And why did it feel like her legs had turned to jelly?
"I can. Do you want to see?"
Of course, Trixie realized, she wanted to see. Maud was saying that she was more magically powerful than Trixie could ever be. Part of her wanted to watch the earth pony fail. It was always satisfying to show up her hecklers, though this mare didn't quite fit into that category. But more than that, part of her hoped it was true. That part re-ignited a needy itch from earlier in the evening, and she suppressed a whimper. That was why her knees were all rubbery. It was exactly like her former, self-destructive attraction to Twilight Sparkle—if the alicorn princess had been an earth pony instead. This was even worse. At least with Twilight, Element of Magic and then-future Princess of Equestria, she had an excuse for being less capable.
"Yes, do please show Trixie. That would be an amazing act." Regardless of whether it worked, she omitted.
Maud Pie turned to the road again. "Follow me. I will only show you once."
Trixie fought for a few moments to get her thoughts under control. When she finally had her knees steadied, she nodded wordlessly and followed the grey pony along the road, which quickly turned from stone-paved to dirt outside of town. The two ponies went right at a Y-fork, and the unicorn soon recognized the path back to the Pie rock farm. Finally, a topic that didn't force her to restrain herself from squirming.
"So, Maud, are you living with your family now?" Trixie winced, though she knew the other mare couldn't see it in the growing darkness. Her own question only served to remind her, with a fresh shock of pain, that she essentially had no family. If they hadn't already disowned her before she had gone to prison, they certainly would have after that.
At least this stopped her mind from travelling more arousing routes. She didn't need any further difficulty walking.
"Yes. I am leaving again tomorrow to finish my rocktorate in rock science."
Trixie blinked twice. "You mean a doctorate in geology?"
"That is what I said."
Trixie shook her head. The seemingly-simple earth pony was even more educated than she was—though only twenty, Trixie would have been expected to possess at least a graduate degree in some highly-esteemed magical field by now. As it was, her cutie mark had prevented any kind of formal education—her family hadn’t reacted well, and they were the only way she could have afforded it.
"We are very disappointed in you, Trixie," her father said. He shoved a heavy magician's tome in her face, and she jumped back, only to trip backwards down the front steps of the manor. He didn't care. "If you had spent your time studying and practicing instead of fucking around with this book of petty tricks, you could have learned something useful, and maybe then your cutie mark wouldn't be a stupid foal’s wand."
"It's my fault. I'm sorry!" her mother wailed. "It was my idea to name you Trixie. Maybe if I hadn't, you might have grown up to—" There was a loud smack, and the mare fell back to crying.
"You're not a Lulamoon. I won't have a magician sully our family name." Her father turned away, sneering in disgust. "Get out of my sight, Trixie. Never use our name, and never come back."
Trixie turned to run and was shocked by a touch to her muzzle. This one was gentle, though. This one was softer than a stallion's hind hooves, and she remembered who she was walking with. Maud gently brushed away the unicorn's tears, then let her hoof fall.
"What are you—?" Trixie started.
"You were crying," Maud grumbled in monotone.
Trixie cringed. It wasn't like her to show her feelings, but tonight wasn't merely pressing her buttons—it seemed intent on bucking her in the face at every opportunity. It was almost as though she needed to be reminded what a bad idea it was to be vulnerable around other ponies. She choked down the earth pony's disapproval and forced herself to keep walking.
The path was not a long one. The strong, dank odor of rock fertilizer—Trixie hesitated to even guess what it was made of—drifted on the breeze and the moon cast long shadows of familiar fences and buildings as it slowly crept above the horizon, and that meant the farm was not far ahead. She turned to Maud again.
"Are we going inside? Trixie does not wish to disturb anypony..." In her time with the Pie family, Trixie had grown accustomed to early hours. There was no particular need for them, as rocks had no care for day or night, but the farmers were nothing if not traditional. Even if the Pies had never treated her less than cordially, they would surely be settling into bed, if not already asleep. She didn't want to strain their charity—or to require it in the first place.
"No. Your tail is flagging and you smell like sex."
Trixie's muzzle smoldered, and her pupils shrank abruptly. Tartarus below, she hadn't had time to wash up before her show! How many ponies could tell? Perhaps the stallion she'd selected as a temporary assistant? He had looked at her a little strangely. Or—the stars forbid—the foals who pushed and shoved to be closest to the stage? In her mind, their cries of glee turned raunchy, driven by the older colts' newly-discovered lust for mares. The entire audience must have known, and she had pranced about for them like a whore! Even that thought stoked the fire in her muzzle and hindquarters, and Trixie hung her head low as she walked. Humiliation, she thought, was too light a word.
A door creaked open, and she jerked to attention. The other mare had trotted ahead, and was standing by the now-open door of a large shed that had always been locked before, when Trixie was working in the fields.
"This is my workshop," Maud droned. She ushered Trixie inside, and while the lighting was minimal, she found matches and lit a lantern with ease. The lantern cast its glow throughout the single room, illuminating a few notebooks stacked neatly on its table, which was a scarred veteran of somepony's dining room. A few tools Trixie didn't recognize hung from the wall, with unmarked boxes stacked neatly below them. A pile of gravel, nearly as high as the rafters, appeared to take up the entire back half of the building.
All Trixie cared about, however, was getting the night over with. Her mane was a touch disheveled, betraying her fraying emotions to anypony who looked. She was sure Maud could tell, even with nothing said. She just wanted to see this trick—it didn’t even matter whether it worked—go back to her wagon, and maybe finish the play she had been up to before the show so she could sort her feelings with a clearer head.
Trixie managed to force a reasonably convincing smile. "So, you had something to show Trixie?"
"I need a volunteer," Maud said.
Trixie's muzzle burned hotter. Was the grey pony mocking her shows?! No... no, probably not, she reassured herself. Hopefully not. Three deep, measured breaths later, her face had cooled, and she nodded. She had spent years as a magician's assistant before she was old enough, and had the bits, to run a show of her own. Stepping back into the familiar role was easy. It was also soothing, in a way. All the applause and approval, without nearly as much effort—only practice and following directions. Starting an act of her own had been enormously fulfilling, but a lot of work and self-direction, too. Some nights, especially nights like this, it was easier to be told what to do.
"Trixie shall be that volunteer," she said, taking a symbolic step forward. At least the memories of her apprenticeship were good ones. The elderly mare training her had not been tolerant of mistakes, but had been pleased whenever Trixie mastered a new technique or illusion. Of course, when the barely-grown unicorn had begun to baffle even her mentor with new tricks and dazzling showmareship of her own, it had been time to part ways, but they were still on good terms, and had still visited on occasion before Ponyville.
"Bring me those ropes," Maud instructed. Glancing across the walls, Trixie spotted the ropes quickly and reached out with a spell to levitate them over, but was interrupted. "No magic." She blinked, then shrugged it off and went to retrieve them manually. She was used to odd rules—early on, they had helped her learn to adapt and improvise, and to intertwine magical and mundane elements to invent acts most unicorns couldn't dream of.
The rope slid off both the hook and her leg when she tried to lift the coil with one hoof, and it fell to the floor. She glared at it, which didn't fix anything. Unlike an earth pony, she couldn't pick things up with her hooves, and without magic, that left one option. She glanced back to Maud, but only received an expectant stare, and turned her attention back to her task. And it had seemed so mundane...
Bracing herself, Trixie bent her neck down, gathered the rope back into a clumsy coil with her hooves, and picked up a mouthful, reigniting an embarrassed heat in her cheeks. The stuff tasted like dust and cotton, and she crossed her eyes to look at it more closely.
The texture was much less rough than she'd come to expect on the Pies' farm; the best rope she'd seen there before was a tough old clothesline that she certainly wouldn't put around herself. This, however, appeared to rival the quality of what she used in shows and in private, dirtied by neglect as it was. Carrying such filthy things in her mouth was so... beneath her. A familiar heat touched Trixie’s muzzle as she carried the rope over to the table and set it down, trying not to spit out the taste too loudly.
"Trixie is very interested in just how you were planning to show her magic with this." She realized it probably came across as a taunt, and covered her mouth with one hoof a second too late. Maud, however, seemed completely unaffected.
"Tie yourself up," the other mare said. "You will be safer that way." Trixie's jaw dropped, and she stammered a non-response. If she had been on stage, she probably wouldn't have thought twice. Her escape acts rarely failed to please the crowds. But this setting was too... intimate. It was practically the same as the grey mare asking to join her in her wagon during a private time, and while that fantasy had its appeal, its reality was entirely inappropriate.
Then again, this was Maud's workshop, not her bedroom. That made it her stage, didn't it? Trixie closed her eyes, and took another deep breath. If it was necessary for the trick... well, she would have to use more trick knots than usual. On her own stage, she rarely needed more than one, but on somepony else's, it was better to be safe than sorry. She sat down on the cool wooden floor to prepare, and levitated the coils of rope towards their place—
"No magic," Maud said, and Trixie winced at the reminder, cancelling her spell. Magic made sense! How else was she supposed to do it? Her mouth and hooves had nowhere near the dexterity to tie a good knot, trick or no trick. Still, she had to try, even if this was setting her up to fail. It was all part of the job of a volunteer on the stage—she had done similar to a few ponies over the years.
Her efforts were, exactly as she expected, fruitless. After several minutes of failure to tie even a basic knot, Trixie gave up.
"Trixie..." She sighed. The admission was not a familiar one, and she couldn't quite bring herself to look up as she made it. "Trixie will need help with this." She was glad when the grey mare set to herself to the task without comment, rolling her onto her back for easier access.
First were the forelegs. Maud wrapped them both in a series of loose figure-eights before pulling them tight, forcing Trixie's hooves together. Another set of loops drew her bound hooves to her upper legs, right below the shoulders, and Trixie braced her jaw to swallow a whimper before it could escape. While her bonds didn't feel too tight, she had no wiggle-room at all.
Trixie was certainly capable of tying herself this well, but it wasn't a good idea for playing alone—or with strangers. When Maud turned her attention to something on the table for a moment, Trixie quietly redid the most critical knots to 'trick' versions of themselves with a quick rope-manipulation spell, in case. She put on an innocent air, quirking one eyebrow to feign curiosity, and dismissed the magic in time to avoid being caught when the other pony changed focus back to her.
With safety out of the way and Maud continuing to 'assist' her without comment, Trixie found her thoughts lingering on her bonds. A third set of loops held her hind hooves, and were quickly connected to the knots binding her forelegs, immobilizing her in a tight-but-comfortable sitting position. Out of habit, she tested the knots again with a brief struggle. Aside from the ones she had rigged, the result was perfect. She could barely move, aside from her head, neck, and tail, but the ropes weren’t so tight as to cut off circulation to any of her limbs. Maud truly knew what she was doing. Of course, just the right pressure on just the right knots would make the whole thing come apart, but for now—
Trixie felt her tail flipped up over her back, and froze. There was a pause before Maud broke the silence. “This is interesting.”
A cool draft caressed the unicorn’s exposed nether lips, its combination with her wetness sending an intense chill up her spine. A moan escaped Trixie’s mouth before she could even think, and from the heat rising back to her muzzle, she could feel her blush spreading and deepening.
“I did not plan for this,” Maud said slowly, while holding Trixie’s tail pinned against her back with one hoof. “I can make it part of the plan.”
“I-I…” Trixie found it impossible to do more than squeak out single syllables. Before she could string together a coherent sentence, a gentle and intimate touch distracted her, and her body went rigid within the restraining ropes. The sudden sensation was a jolt between her hind legs, one that grew enjoyable as it became familiar, and silence fell while her mind struggled to process it. It was only when that sensation ended that the unicorn could put words together again.
“Did you just—”
“Yes.” Maud continued to hold Trixie’s tail pinned. “Should I do it again?”
Trixie’s reply was forced by another lewd kiss. She moaned, high and soft, as Maud’s lips parted, letting the earth pony’s tongue flick gently—and then, quite firmly—along the center of Trixie’s folds, stoking a growing fire in her belly. When the touch left her again, the unicorn struggled to clear her mind and understand what was happening, but her thoughts hit a blinding wall of arousal as her tail was fastened to the rope looped over her back, preventing her from covering herself.
This was definitely not a magical performance. No, this was what she had wanted in her wagon earlier, and on so many other lonely evenings. She squirmed against her bindings, far too late for any effect. The knots pulled ever-so-slightly tighter with every tug, and for her trouble, Trixie was left more helpless than before.
Not that she had meant to escape. The ropes, the exposure, the remembered humiliation and the real embarrassment, the need left simmering for hours—it all rushed to the fore, and it all demanded immediate satisfaction. With magic and a few trick knots to keep her safe, Trixie gave in.
“Yes,” she squeaked.
“Yes what?”
“Yes please fuck me!” The hot flush in the unicorn’s cheeks darkened. She hadn’t meant to let that slip out, but it had felt so… appropriate, like it was her place. Her place—not on a stage, bedazzling the world, but as a needy, helpless bondage toy. She whimpered at that thought, and couldn’t tell whether it was because she loved it or hated it.
“Good girl.”
Pure and unadulterated fulfillment obliterated her thoughts and filled her shuddering body with warmth, washing away her worries and reservations. Nothing had ever made her feel so wonderful, so right, so belonging. Maud’s flat sincerity gave each sound immense power. Trixie laid her head down, and melting, buttery muscles let her body slump cat-like against the floor. Behind closed eyes, the moment filled her reality.
Minutes crawled by uncounted, until finally, she was able to lift her head and turn her face upwards, towards Maud Pie. “Please say that again,” she said, her voice coming out as warm and soft as her body felt.
“I will, later,” Maud droned disinterestedly. “If you behave.”
“Trixie will do anything!” she said with a rapid nod, surprising herself with the earnestness of her tone. But, she thought, it was true. She would trade anything, even the use of her body, to feel that again. There was not a doubt in her mind that her body would be what she traded for those words, and there was not a single objection from the heat in her cheeks and hindquarters.
“Good. I will get Strata.” Maud ducked her head and shoulders to reach under her table, but left her hind legs straight. Then she pulled her jacket forward, and Trixie’s vision was filled with mare. The grey pony made no effort to conceal how her tail was flagging. With her exposure, the lantern’s light reflected off the wetness of the perfect folds tucked beyond the cheeks of her beautifully round ass, and the gentle musk of her arousal rose to mingle with the unicorn’s.
Trixie's belly tightened pleasantly at the sight and scent, and her breaths quickened. She licked her lips and leaned towards Maud before she could even think about what she was doing, but the ropes kept her immobile and gave her time. If she could only get a few inches closer while the other mare was still under the table—or intercept her on the way out…
Of course. It was as simple as magic. Trixie lit up her horn with a telekinesis spell, and used it to reach out and wrap her ethereal touch over the smooth grey folds of Maud’s labia, giving the shimmering pink aura of her magic a tweak to simulate a stroking touch. The grey mare sucked in a sharp breath, but her attempt to back out from under the table only planted her wet, heated pussy against the unicorn’s waiting muzzle. Trixie found her senses dominated by the scent of lust, and could not restrain herself, her tongue darting out and lapping at the trapped mare’s sex. The salty-sweet flavour of Maud’s wetness danced on Trixie’s tongue, and the unicorn moaned again.
Maud stepped forward, out of Trixie’s reach. “Stop,” she directed, looking over her shoulder.
Trixie hastily nodded, lowering her head and allowing the other mare to step out from under the table without further molestation. Maud had retrieved a long, thin brown box, and she set it on the table, pushing the top off with her muzzle. From it, she lifted…
Trixie gulped.
The grey marble dildo, as exquisitely detailed as it was, was entirely smooth, and appeared—besides material and a slightly smaller scale—every bit like the real thing. The flared tip; the medial ring; even a few veins standing out along its length; it was all there. Instead of the rest of the “package,” though, the dildo had a flat stand at its base, extending beyond the considerable girth of the toy in opposite directions to prevent it from falling all the way inside a mare and requiring help for its retrieval.
“This is my best friend, Strata,” Maud said. “She’s happy to see you.”
“H-hi, Strata,” Trixie said. Why was she talking to a sex toy?
The answer came to her in a flash: Because she was, for the moment, on the same level. The thought set her whole face aflame, and she had to look away. There was something all too appealing about the equivalence, and it sent a heated thrill through her body, making her squirm against her ropes.
Maud’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Eat this,” she said, holding a small piece of green rock candy on the upturned frog of her hoof.
Trixie obeyed without hesitation. Licking the treat off the other mare’s hoof like a dog simply made sense, in her position. A twinge of humiliation from the act further fuelled her need, and the candy’s sickly-sweet flavour went unnoticed in the mere seconds it took to melt on her tongue and trickle down her throat.
“That will weaken your voice,” the earth pony said. “I do not want you to wake my family.”
There was no time for discussion or protest before Maud picked up Strata again and ground the dildo’s flared tip against Trixie’s folds. The helpless unicorn could only gasp as the cold touch of the toy made her shudder. But despite the chill, every wiggle and grind stoked a hot, needy emptiness within her—an emptiness that the other pony seemed to entirely ignore, instead taking her time to coat the toy’s flare in the wetness of Trixie’s sex. The bound mare could only squirm and too-softly moan out her pleasure and desire.
After almost a minute, Maud stopped, setting Strata upright on its base on the floor. When Trixie turned her head to give the mare a questioning look, the answer was immediate and simple.
“You are going to stain my floor,” Maud said, her tone dangerously calm.
Trixie turned her head away. There was nothing she could do! Everything felt so good! It wasn’t even her fault—it was Maud who was in control! But… But Trixie should have known better, she knew. She should have said no to all of this. This scolding could have been avoided through careful—
“Ah!” A near-inaudible cry of surprise broke out of Trixie’s throat as smooth, cool marble was replaced with the warmth of a long tongue that drew itself slowly along the length of her nether lips, spreading and intensifying an intimate, tingling heat as it went. Her hind legs tugged against their secure ropes in a protective and futile reflex.
But while the first lick was long, firm, and fulfilling, the next was a quick, teasing lap. Trixie tried to shove her hindquarters backwards, tried to press her folds up against Maud’s warm muzzle and get something more than the brief tingle the flick of the other mare’s tongue brought her. In response to Trixie’s fruitless effort to move within her ropes, Maud simply pulled back for a moment, then lapped again. Then a fourth time, and a fifth. Each light, insufficient touch was a nearly-pleasant torture, only serving to fuel Trixie’s growing emptiness
“M-Maud, please!” Trixie whined, barely able to whisper. Maud stopped, her tongue still pressed lightly against the unicorn’s labia, then withdrew.
“Please what?”
“Please stop teasing Trixie! Jus—” Trixie continued for several sentences, mixing commands and begging in her desperation to be touched, before realising her voice had failed completely. Unable to speak, she lifted and turned her head to look up at her earth pony tormentor, hoping her need was etched clearly enough into her face.
From where she was comfortably seated on the floor behind Trixie, Maud nodded. She couldn’t speak, either; Strata’s base was held firmly between her teeth. From the faint pink flush on her muzzle and the way the lantern’s light shimmered against the wet surfaces of the dildo, it seemed she had taken on the task of preparing it herself. Maud lowered her head, bringing the toy down to grind its head into Trixie’s folds in a series of smooth and gentle motions.
Every firm, stroking touch was delightful, but still served to stoke rather than sate the flames of the unicorn’s need. Trixie did everything she could to thrust her hips backwards, to engulf the toy in herself and fill the emptiness the other pony had provoked, but the ropes only permitted her a lewd wiggle.
Somehow, Maud still got the message, and understood what Trixie needed. Holding Strata in place, she placed her forehooves on each side of the unicorn’s wet and swelling petals and gently pulled them apart like a flower coming into bloom. With Trixie’s heat and slickness and needy emptiness, the dildo’s flared head took only a moment’s pressure to slip through her entrance. She shuddered in pleasure and tried to buck her hips backwards again, but her bondage allowed Maud to continue sliding the pre-warmed toy in at her own pace.
To Trixie, that pace was torture. Strata’s entry was not a strong thrust, but a slow, slow pressure that advanced by millimeters and was impeded by the unicorn’s involuntary clenching against it. But she couldn’t help that; the increasing sensation of fullness just felt too good, despite its too-slow progress. If she could, Trixie would have set the toy on the floor and begun riding it shamelessly. Maybe it was a good thing Maud was in control instead, the unicorn thought; as much as she wanted to believe otherwise, she knew she could never have managed the self-control needed to draw the experience out like this.
The dildo’s entry went on and on, deeper and deeper into Trixie’s pussy, stretching her interior walls slightly as they passed over its broad flare. The mare couldn’t help her squirming, or the wonderful heat and tingling every time her vaginal muscles clenched against the toy. She was equally helpless to contain or understand the voiceless pleading that burst from her throat and drew her face into puppy-dog eyes. She had no way to order Maud to hurry up, to give her what she needed, to finally make the other mare cave in and fuck her senseless. She could only moan silently and struggle in her bondage, until finally, finally Strata came to a halt, its base pressing up against Trixie’s clit.
The contact sent a jolt up her spine and set off sparks behind her eyes, and if she’d still had a voice, the sound that came out of her would have been a pleasured squeal. She struggled and wiggled, and managed to make the toy rub against her little pearl again, filling her sex with a moment’s searing heat and sending another pleasurable shock through her body.
Then Maud took control again, pulling on the toy to withdraw it. Trixie clamped down hard against the dildo’s retreat, but to no avail, and only succeeded in making the motion as slow and torturously pleasing as its insertion. As Strata’s flared head reached her entrance again, Trixie whined mutely and clenched one last time, hoping to at least prevent the toy’s total removal—
Her mouth fell open in a silent cry as Maud thrust the marble toy back in all at once, bringing another spike of tingling and heat. The toy was withdrawn again, and this time it returned more slowly, more steadily, though still more swiftly than the pace Maud had tortured the unicorn with before. Trixie laid her head down and gave what little, futile effort she could to raising her hips and bucking back against the toy that was now being used to fuck her outright.
The steady thrusts continued, and she made no further complaint. Each slow stroke left the wet heat inside of her a little more intense than before. Her emptiness was at last sated, her body was wonderfully helpless in its restraining ropes, and if Maud continued as she was, it wouldn’t be much longer before that heat burst and melted from the inside out. Trixie could almost feel it already.
And then she did feel it. She tossed her head back and sang out a long, muted note to the ceiling as the heat within her rose to boiling, and Maud seemed to take that as the cue to shove Strata all the way into her again and and grind its marble base against her clit. The intensity of the electric heat of that touch would have made Trixie scream if she still had her voice, and it broke the dam that held her pleasure in check.
Trixie came. Her eyes rolled back and her hooves tried to curl in their bonds as her heat melted into a wave of ecstasy that exploded through her whole body. Her pussy contracted again and again, tightly grasping the dildo and sending further waves of hot, tingling pleasure through her flanks and along her legs. A surge of wetness trickled from the unicorn’s sex and into the delicate blue fur of her inner thighs as she twitched and shuddered in the secure grasp of her bondage, her mind empty of everything besides the pleasure and satisfaction and how much she had needed this moment.
Trixie was to have no rest. Even as the last wave of pleasure passed through her and she struggled to catch her breath, her earth pony companion paused only long enough to change tactics. Maud tapped one forehoof against the base of the dildo, then again, and again, faster and faster—until the toy started vibrating on its own. Another mute squeal of pleasure burst from Trixie’s muzzle as the vibrations filled her whole lower body and pounded through her over-sensitised clit, swiftly sending her into the clutch of ecstasy once more. Each contraction only made the vibrations feel that much more powerful, and the waves of pleasure each unleashed on her body were almost painful in their intensity.
And the vibrations wouldn’t stop. Even if she’d had her voice, the constant stimulation of her clitoris had stolen her breath and would have prevented Trixie from forming coherent thoughts, let alone words. All she knew was the near-agonising ecstasy that never seemed to end until, at last, her senses left her. As the aftershocks of a third orgasm began to weaken, Trixie passed out.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The first thing Trixie felt as she awoke was Strata, still thrumming away at her sex from the inside. A long moan escaped voicelessly from her throat, followed by a contented sigh. For a minute, she let herself relax in the warmth of the heavy comforter and the smoldering embers of her heat, uncertain when she’d been moved to a bed. It must have been Maud’s, considering it was hard enough to be made of rock. She didn’t care; she had never felt so warm and so completely relaxed.
Still, she would have to get up soon, unless the world proved itself still dark when the comforter was removed. Her belly didn’t take much longer to wake up than she did, and it would be demanding. Of course, planning and preparing for the evening show would also take time. Having been stared down by responsibility, Trixie yawned, and that was the first sign something was wrong.
She couldn’t close her mouth all the way. Something was between her teeth, blocking them. A little exploratory poking with her tongue revealed the taste of dust—raising warm memories of the evening to tingle around the vibrations in her pussy—and the nearly-smooth interior of a stony tube that filled her muzzle.
Trixie opened her eyes and moved to push off the comforter, and was stopped short. Her darkened vision held nothing at all, and her legs were still tied, giving her no space to move. Lifting her head was a useless effort as well; the comforter was simply too heavy. That, too, was wrong.
“Maud? What’s going on?” Trixie tried to ask. She expected that the rock tube-gag in her muzzle would interfere with her ability to speak, but no sound came out at all.
Of course. It was the candy, the one Maud said would keep her voice down. There were only two cards left in Trixie’s hoof, and she needed to have a long talk with the other mare about boundaries and asking permission if this were to happen again. She carefully pushed against her left side, where she’d tied the trick knots before, and waited for them to give.
And waited.
And waited…
Had Maud gone as far as re-tying her?! That left only one way out. As much as Trixie felt using magic to escape her bonds was cheating, she didn’t have a choice. She carefully channelled a quick rope-control spell into her horn—
A flash of brilliant white pain drilled back into her head like an inverse horn, tearing a mute scream from her throat. This was nothing like a regular magical inhibitor—while the feedback from those was passingly painful and would leave her winded, they didn’t feel like somepony had shoved a spear through her face. This, Trixie thought as she pulled her mind back together, was something more akin to a horn clamp, effectively a magic-disabling shock collar for unicorns who were either unrepentant criminals or far more serious about their bondage.
The Great and Powerful Trixie was many things, but she was not a masochist. Pain was miles away from her idea of a good time, and it was still ringing in her head like a swarm of pegasus foals with sledgehammers intent on escape. This was not okay, and Trixie swallowed a knot as she realised she had no way to say so, no way to communicate that this was no longer fun and she needed out. She was going to chew Maud out a lot when this was over.
“You’re awake.” The indifferent voice was Maud’s. How the mare could even tell was uncertain, but it wasn’t a question and Trixie couldn’t answer. “Please pay attention. I’m going to show you my trick now.”
The earth pony’s statement was followed immediately by the sound of gravel grinding under hoof… over Trixie’s head? The sound came again. It was definitely from above, somehow. But while the comforter pressed more and more tightly all around her as the sound continued, the stabbing headache left by the horn clamp was fading, and she became increasingly distracted. Was Strata growing inside of her?! The smooth marble pressed tighter and tighter against the inner walls of her pussy, granting a powerful feeling of fullness and enhancing the heat and tingling from the dildo’s gentle vibrations until they became impossible to ignore.
Trixie had to resist this. She had to get out, to tell Maud she wasn’t okay… didn’t she? Wait, what was she thinking? Of course she did! She had her career to worry about, if nothing else. But for the moment, she was trapped.
There wasn’t anything wrong with enjoying that while it lasted.
Trixie gave in as the smashing and grinding of gravel continued, allowing herself to sink into the well of pleasure Strata drilled. At her acceptance and focus, the hotly-smouldering embers of her desire reignited. The toy continued to grow and to stretch out the tender flesh around it, and even as its base seemed to grow away from Trixie’s clit, its vibrations pounded straight into her already-primed and sensitive g-spot.
The unicorn found less and less room to shudder and squirm as this sent her over the edge again, the fire in her hindquarters melting into an explosion of tingling pleasure that spread through her body. She cried out in mute ecstasy, and her pussy tried again and again to contract against the ever-growing dildo, gaining no ground but launching wave after wave of pleasure after the first.
Through her orgasmic haze and Strata’s soft hum, Trixie heard only two words.
“Good girl.”
The vibrations continued, but they were no more than a distraction from the warm sense of rightness, of wantedness, that washed away her thoughts and cares at those words.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Maud Pie paid careful attention to the rock on her table, shaping it just so with the precise tapping and grinding of her right forehoof. What had once been a pile of rock and unicorn was now a single piece of gravel, unremarkable except for the tiny hole near the end that other ponies would not likely notice. It was nearly perfect, and with one final series of taps and chips, she was finished.
It was still not quite perfect, but there was only so much she could do while still leaving an air hole. Maud bent down and said, “I told you I could turn a pony into a rock.” Trixie had been skeptical, but she had been a good volunteer, and after a moment to consider this and remember her promise, Maud added, “Good girl.”
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Igneous Rock Pie grumbled wordlessly as he trudged along the edge of the rock field towards an outlying shed. A cold night breeze failed to put a dent in the heat of his boiling irritation, but he drew his faded pink night robe more tightly around himself anyway. After a late evening of struggling, and ultimately failing, to “get up” enough to please his wonderful wife, it had taken hours to put his shame to rest and fall asleep. That was all well and good—the weekend was coming, and with it, an extra hour of sleep per night. If it were just that, his sleep schedule would work out fine.
Unfortunately, nights like this were why Maud’s living elsewhere was probably for the best. Tonight, as so many times in her youth, a look at the moondial had confirmed that she was up and active past midnight. Though she was considerate enough to recuse herself to the shed Igneous had built for precisely that purpose during her adolescence, the dead silence of night away from town meant the smashing and banging of her obsessive rock study sessions was still clear as party cannon fire, and not nearly as pleasant. His wife could sleep—and had slept—through a tornado carrying the roof away, but his own rest was light.
It wasn’t that he disliked Maud, Igneous had always reasoned. He loved her dearly, and took great pride in her growth as a mare. He needed his sleep, though, and had allowed himself to feel relief when she moved away to college. Visits like this, while still welcome in all other respects, were stressful.
He mentally prepared himself, raised his chin, made sure he was looking down his muzzle sternly, then knocked twice on the door to the rock shed. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled it open, bracing himself to confront his daughter about reasonable bed-times—and making noise after them—yet again.
The first thing to hit Igneous Rock was a most un-rockly smell that made his muzzle wrinkle. Blinking, he quickly dismissed the questions the faint and musky aroma aroused and did his best to ignore them in favour of his daughter.
Maud was already facing him, her head tilted upward and backlit by a lantern on the table behind her. Igneous couldn’t see her face clearly, but it didn’t matter. As with the rest of the family, even Pinkamena’s help never made it easier for him to read her expression. Whatever she was conveying could not be surprise, though. The way the young mare had already been turned towards the door was almost as though she expected him.
“Good morning, father,” she said, her monotone mimicking the usual manner of her face. “I apologise for waking you. I see that I should have been more considerate and kept better track of the time.”
Igneous Rock’s irritable energy boiled away in an instant, dissipating in the steam of a sigh. This loss of pressure always happened, and perhaps it was for the best. While the line sounded rehearsed, being angry with ponies was distasteful, and being truly angry with family bounded on breaking with traditional Pie values—it was simply indecent.
“Very well, I forgive you. But what in Equestria are you doing this late?”
Maud turned away for a moment, then held up a small rock, an ordinary chunk of gravel, on the frog of her left forehoof. “I made a friend to travel with me,” she said.
“Your friend is a rock?”
“Most of my friends are rocks.”
The mental image created by the combination of the smell with that statement was not a pleasant one, but after a few moments of silence, Igneous forced a weary chuckle. “You’re my Maud, all right. Get to bed soon, young mare. If you still plan to visit Pinkamena, it wouldn’t do to miss the train to Ponyville tomorrow.”
“I will, father. Good night.”
“Good night, Maud.”
As Igneous Rock turned and trudged back towards the house, the grey mare returned her attention to her newest companion. “I think I will call you ‘Boulder,’” she said softly.
As she tucked Boulder into her jacket and headed for the house, Maud smiled.