Fifty Shades of Brad
Fifty Shades of Brad
by D. G. D. Davidson
Twilight Sparkle’s heart pounded in anticipation. It was almost time. Soon, he would come back for her, the man she loved, the man who had mastered her. Yearning for him, she strained against the rope with which he had tied her, but it held fast.
She heard footfalls. They were soft, but confident and sure. She raised her head and pricked her ears forward. Her nostrils twitched. Yes, it was him. It had to be. Her heart missed a beat as it bruised itself against her ribs.
At last, he appeared in the doorway, his broad shoulders framed in the streaming sunlight. The light struck his bright blue hair and caused it to glow as if he had a wild and brilliant halo. He offered her his lopsided grin, and her knees went weak. She ducked her head and nickered softly.
Brad. She wanted to whisper his name, but the sound wouldn’t come. He was dressed in a dapper shadbelly, tight-fitting breeches that emphasized the trim muscularity of his well-shaped legs, and knee-high boots. Great Celestia, how Twilight loved knee-high boots!
“I’ve got something for you,” he said, and her heart raced even more madly. He walked toward her with his easy, lackadaisical pace, driving her wild. Come here, she thought at him. Come here right now and give me what I want.
But she didn’t say the words aloud: after all, he was her master.
He reached her, and she stretched her neck to nuzzle his face. She could smell the sweet spices in his hair oil and aftershave. He laughed, rubbed her muzzle, and held out the gift he’d promised.
It was a carrot. Greedily, she clamped her teeth around it and munched. She loved taking food out of his hand, because his heady, musky scent filled her nose and calmed her as she ate.
She was still enjoying the carrot’s succulent crunch when he stepped up close, and she felt the tingling touch of his dandy brush against her shoulder. Her ears flopped and her lips twitched as Brad brushed her all over her body: his strokes were self-assured and manful, yet at the same time so gentle, taking care to follow the direction in which her hair grew. All the while, he spoke to her—evenly, quietly, soothingly. Her heart finally slowed, and she merely rested in the calm of his presence. Just once, she started as the brush’s hard bristles tickled her sensitive underbelly, but he calmed her again by running his hand along her back.
With her body brush, he combed out her mane. Her eyelids felt heavy, and she dared to shuffle just a little closer to him.
“That’s a good girl,” he said as he rubbed one of her ears. He brushed her face, his soulful eyes gazing into hers. She yearned to speak to him, to tell him just how much she loved him, but again her tongue wouldn’t make the sounds.
Brad. She simply let the name run through her mind over and over as she contemplated its solitary yet achingly beautiful syllable.
Running his hand along her side, he moved behind her and brushed out her tail. She closed her eyes and whinnied softly.
When he was finished brushing, he made her heart pound again by leaning into her left shoulder and sliding his hand down the back of her leg. After he picked up her hoof, he cleaned it out with a hoof pick.
He did the same with the rest of her hooves, and then he took a coarse white numdah and laid it over her back. She licked her lips, knowing what came next: he was going to dress her the way he always did whenever he used her.
He laid on her saddle and began to buckle her girth. She liked being groomed, but the feel of the saddle’s girth going around her barrel always made her a little angry, so she bit at the air. But he gave her a reassuring pat, and that calmed her back down.
Finally, he slipped her reins over her neck and, pressed against her neck with one hand over her muzzle, unfastened her halter. She obediently lowered her head to help him as he pulled her bridle’s crownpiece over her ears, and she opened her mouth to take the snaffle bit in her bars. He buckled her noseband, and she waited while he checked to make sure it wasn’t too tight.
Finally, he fastened her throatlatch, took her reins, and led her out of the stable into the sunlight. Her heart soared; she wanted to run. She knew that she and he would ride down rocky trails, pause by babbling brooks, feel the hot sun pouring down on them through the forest leaves. When he let her rest, she would nibble lush grass and bright flowers in a calm meadow, and she would drink from dark pools. He would be there all the while, his every touch and every movement telling her where to go and how to walk.
She would sense things that would startle her, she knew. She would be aware; she would listen, see, and smell everything along the trail. Attuned to her as she was to him, he would know through her all that she detected, but he would decide, and she would obey. Together, when they rode, they were like one being—she the quick and strong body, he the mind.
It was evening when he led her back to the stables, and the high, feathery clouds were pink and lavender in the dome of the sky. Anticipating the removal of her saddle and a good roll in the grass, Twilight had wanted to run the last mile home, but Brad had restrained her with only the slightest movement of his hands.
At last, they entered the paddock, and he led her to the washing area to remove her tack. Once he had her undressed, he used a sweat scraper to take the perspiration from her coat, and then he brushed her again, praising her all the while.
After having worn a saddle for hours, it felt wonderful to roll. She tossed back and forth in the grass, letting the ground take the tension from her shoulders. Brad leaned against a fence and watched her for a while, but then he at last put her halter on again and led her inside to her stall. Before he left, he kissed her on her nose, and he let her eat an apple from his hand.
By now, the sun was low, and it was growing dark. Brad was gone, and Twilight could feel the pang of his absence in her chest—but it was all right, because she had pony friends at the stables, and she knew she would see Brad again tomorrow.
Just once, some weeks ago, Brad had brought a mirror so he could examine himself in his riding clothes and see how he looked with Twilight in her tack. She had caught a glimpse of herself and had thought it strange how different she looked. She dimly remembered a time, long ago, when her coat had been violet instead of bay. She thought perhaps that, once, she had a horn and even wings—or perhaps that was only a dream.
A few days ago, she had a moment of panic when she realized she could no longer remember pi out to thirty digits. Now she no longer remembered what pi was: it was just something she used to think was important, something that had become for her only a word. There were other words just like it in her head, words that had once mattered but no longer did: words like Equestria, princess, science, magic. The list grew shorter every day. Perhaps she was forgetting. Perhaps she had never known.
It seemed her love for Brad had once been different, too. Stronger somehow. Deeper.
But that was silly: he scratched her, fed her, and soothed her with his voice. He kept her contented and safe, and she did everything he wanted. What love could be deeper than that?
She sometimes dreamt that she had in some distant past led a greater life full of knowledge that could no longer move her mind and passions that could no longer move her breast, a life full of things beyond her comprehension.
But that made no sense, of course. Nothing higher than this could be possible: she couldn’t imagine it, for what could such a life possibly look like?
Surely it was just a silly dream.
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...what the hell did I just read?
I like it, I guess in this universe the Mirror works a little bit...differently. Now I REALLY want to know where Sunset Shimmer is, is she in the stable with Twilight?
4782426
There is no place for your grammar Nazi here. Even is another word for evening.
Creepy.
This was exactly what I expected. I even mentally prepared myself to pronounce "pony" in an Irish accent.
derpicdn.net/img/view/2013/11/4/463965__solo_suggestive_meme_exploitable+meme_flash+sentry_idiot+sentry_oblivious.png
I thought of that when I read the description.
as read by Gilbert Gottfried.
quickmeme.com/img/dd/dda8461c1ce0d0a9914a70186b8933113f23ab4479aeee6bb5b7b7ac98a27ec9.jpg
Firs the pregnancy one, then this one...
But like... what if all well-trained animals are just subs who are super in to it?
And every time you tell your dog to sit your dog is secretly like "UNF YES I'M A BAD DOGGY"
This was darkly hilarious. Very, very well done: bravo!
Huh. I thought I could tell where you were going with this at first, but you took a few unexpected turns, and now I'm rather thoroughly creeped out. You touched on a concept I find incredibly disturbing, and yet I still enjoyed the story. Well done. Thank you for a shudder-inducing read.
Oh man, that went from hilarious to really damn dark.
Well, that's fairly depressing.
You have just entertained about half a dozen writers with this hotness.
4785181
Yes, that does accurately describe my hit count.
4782890
No.
Perfectly viable formatting.
Easier to read as well.
Huh. she's a real pony now.
Never seen that done before. I like it.
4785787
You amuse me.
That was... really creepy feeling. Especially the bit at the end. Well written, just... creepy.
Marked complete.
Daaa-(insert so many 'a' that you forget how I started and end up thinking I'm refering to a character from Avatar)-ang.
I'm reading the comments and they're all like:
>Dark
>Hilariously dark
.... It's just the story of a lonely horse in a stable.
4782805
that sounds like something I'd do just to see her reaction.
4787009 I've not read it, and I don't think I'll plan to LOL...
No wonder I didn't get it.
4787023, 4787009
I've never read Fifty Shades of Grey either.
4785363 No there were a bunch of us in Quills and Sofas at Bronycon, reading this on PP's laptop. and you broke our happy little brains.
t2.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT81DhjGgrr-Ko-4hytnU1XMl5Jhv0urf8Y1cpIHY9JRBs0okwOag
4787265 It's all one big cliche thing, isn't it?
4787401
Ah, I see. I am flattered.
But I admit that I am perhaps a little ashamed that the story of mine that got read there was one mocking bondage porn. I personally would have preferred "To My Princess, on the Day of My Departure," or "Love on the Reef," both of which are honest love stories instead, though the latter proved decidedly unpopular.
4788735 To be frank I think it was morbid curiousity that got the best of us. Since we had all seen it pop up in our feeds.
Yes, but calling it a satire of bondage porn does it a great disservice. It is far more than it's inspiration.
As for the latter I do recall it being distressingly underappreciated.
Hook, line, and sinker. Bellissimo.
4782491 In 1600, maybe. In 2014, no.
But great story. I did not know you harbored such disturbing thoughts. There's hope for you yet!
This needs to be marked tragedy, man.
...I'm out.
I'm done.
This was creepy as... Hell I don't even know.
~Skeeter The Lurker
Eh. Maybe it is the fact that i came in knowing what this was about, but this story did nothing to me.
Huh. Upvoted. Favorited.
Based on the Present Perfect and Bad Horse word-of-mouth blog posts, I came in half-expecting a story that would read like a comedic version of Equus taking refuge in extreme audacity. Instead I got 50 Shades of Grey mashed up with Somewhere Only We Know(*). Definitely broke my expectations, but worthwhile all the same! This really nails what it sets out to do.
4802108
And I am utterly unfamiliar with all three of the works you just referenced.
4802119
The third one I referenced is like if you took the last quarter of your story, ripped it away from its first three-quarters, and then shot its mother and left it to fend for itself for a few years. (It's good and you should read it. It got a Pony Fiction Vault feature.)
The first one I referenced is a thoroughly disturbing story for horrible people. Wait, no, that's the second one. Equus, on the other hand, is the one that became (slightly more) infamous when Harry Potter got naked.
On second thought, I'm genuinely not sure whether Equus or Fifty Shades of Grey is more horrifying. Equus is an unflinching look into skin-crawling aberrant psychology, while 50SG takes a borderline-disturbing fantasy done in a deeply unhealthy way and tries to pretend that it's all whips and roses.
This is intensely disturbing. I want to downvote on that grounds alone, but instead you get an upvote. Nevermind that I don't like the content. I have no complaints about the craft.
Yeah, I hate it when people downvote my fics without explanation, so I'll comment here as well, even though I suspect that the downvote won't actually bother you.
Basically, downvoted because you've skipped the 'dark' tag. I appreciate that putting it in would diminish the strength of a well-written story, but frankly reading a fic like this is a lousy way to start the day. I prefer to chose when I read depressing stuff, and now wasn't a good time.
Dammit! I tried, but I couldn't turn this into an über kinky smutfic in my head. Oh well... *sniff*
4786519
Or, it's a normal horse in the real world that has been plagued by delusions of grandeur, and just a little bit of (possibly unwanted) intelligence. Twilight has gone done goofed an experiment and sent her thoughts hurtling through space/time, affecting this poor, bay coloured equine, who has no horn nor wings and nary a lavender hair on her body.
As for Brad having blue hair... I dunno. Prolly something to do with radiation and space/time screw ups. Sure. Whatever. I now wonder what zany stuff is going through his head. I mean, we've see what TwiHorse thinks. How much more for Brad, who must be plagued with memories of Flash Sentry/Francis?
Of course, I could be completely wrong about that and it's simply Brad daydreaming his horse was Twilight from a show called My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, a show he enjoys watching when his dad ain't looking. He ain't got too many friends so he likes to project his deranged loneliness into his horse as he grooms and rides her.
Or TwiHorse was not a horse, but instead a Leotau. Whatever possibilities that may offer.
Anyways, I should stop with the crazy assed interpretations. I'm out of em. And I have ta be up in a few hours for work.
Upvote and fave cuz this fic was crazy, yet strangely mundane.
Reminiscent of Somewhere Only We Know.
4802924 It's worse than that, it's manipulation to make the ending have more "impact". Biblical Monsters pulled the same stunt on a much larger scale (didn't add a Tragedy or Sad tag until the final chapter, upped the rating to mature for gore), which is why it is the Fimfic equivalent of Satan.
4787401
I'm sure it put some grins on some faces. Just... not on the ones who normally smile a lot.
4788735 Don't be ashamed.
In practice, Quills and Sofas isn't a workshop for bettering one's writing, it's a seedy dive where horseword-makers congregate. Anyone who came in there with serious, heavy motivations didn't fit in too well, but those who came to party rubbed fetlocks with the horsefamous and were welcomed without reservation.
I liked this creepy story. You kinda have to appreciate that there's a real Fifty Shades, and not approve of its subtext, and perhaps even disapprove of Equestria Girls on top of that, to really 'get' Fifty Shades Of Brad. It's like a little editorial told through ponies and the most subtly sick and wrong multiple crossover I've ever seen
Seriously. If I'm counting properly, this desecrates three fandoms utterly, in under 1500 words. BraVO.
4802058 Same here.
4804715
I am all if those things and I loved this story!
The story doesn't work for me but had me chewing over why for a while. The title and summary suggested a clop parody. Not really my thing, but I like Davidson's work and got around to it on Bad Horse's recommendation. The first half, instead, was closer to Skywriters "Sun Princess," and was an interesting alternate sort of relationship between the two.
The second twist broke the story for me. I appreciate the tragedy, but something is missing from Brad. I see two possibilities. If he does not know who Twilight is, how are the two of them together and why does he have this pony? My preferred branch, the story is trying not to end as a tragedy. She has chosen to be with him and he has to bear the weight of that choice. She might not have the depth to understand her situation any longer, but he would, and she know something trouble him. But he does not. This Brad is a cipher. He cares, in a conventional way, for a pony. But if only Twilight knows she was different, how did this pairing happen? And if he knows, how is he hiding so much?
How has no one mentioned the similarity of this story's ending to that of "Flowers for Algeron"?