One little foal needs help very badly. Cadance thinks she can save her; but as the foal recounts her experiences, the Princess finds herself tempted to enter a perverse world she never knew existed.
[A Tarnished Silver side-story, taking place at the end of the series. Contains spoilers for the end of A Silver Sky.]
When I was little, I wanted to be a Princess. Now I wish I was anything else.
Because being Princess is the greatest burden in Equestria, and the weight just gets heavier with every passing day. I just want to let go, to forget for one moment that the fate of a kingdom lies on my back. I want to feel like a mare again. I want pleasure, and pain, and to feel my husband's body against mine....
I want to feel again.
But one day I met a filly who had felt far too much, who had suffered pain beyond her years and pleasure no foal should ever know...
Princess Luna had not been prepared for Cadance's question. It had sprung up suddenly, like a hidden attacker, emerging from its hiding place between casual sips of tea on a warm spring afternoon.
The High Princess of Equestria did her best not to betray her surprise. She calmly took a bite of her sandwich, taking perhaps just a bit too long to chew and swallow it, before she replied.
“Princess,” she said. “It is so rare that you and I are able to enjoy each others' company in a casual setting, especially on such a beautiful day. Can we not enjoy our lunch without being reminded of unpleasant matters?”
“You're right. It is a beautiful day,” Cadance said. “Her sun is shining so bright...”
“Mi Amore,” Luna said. “Please.”
“I'm sorry,” the younger princess said as she looked down at her teacup. “I was only asking.”
Luna looked to her side, toward the center of the palace garden. There, surrounded by flowers, stood a beautiful marble statue of Princess Celestia in the act of raising the sun. The statue was over three centuries old, yet looked almost brand new. By royal decree, it was cleaned and polished regularly.
“Her presence lingers everywhere,” Luna said. “It has been months since my sister fell, yet there are still times when I enter the throne room and almost expect to find her there, conducting the business of state as if nothing happened.”
“That throne is yours now,” Cadance said. “You deserve it far more than she did.”
“In all honesty, I am thinking of having it replaced,” Luna replied. “It is...not to my taste.”
“So you don't miss her?” Cadance asked.
“What my sister did was unforgivable,” Luna replied. “When I think of what she allowed to happen...the suffering she inflicted upon generations of children...”
Luna shuddered, as though caught in a blizzard.
“I am ashamed of Celestia. I cannot even look at her image without feeling anger and disgust. And you ask if I miss her?” Luna turned away from Cadance.
“I miss her with all my heart,” Luna said.
Cadance lowered her head sadly. “I'm sorry, Princess,” she said. “I had no right to ask that.”
Luna shook her head.
“I miss her, too...” Cadance said softly. She leaned back in her chair and looked up at the bright blue sky.
“She was the one who gave me this horn, after all. Without her, I'd still be a normal Pegasus. Every time I use magic, or just catch a glimpse of my horn in the mirror...”
“It reminds you of her?” Luna asked.
“Not just that,” Cadance replied. “I feel connected to her somehow. This horn is a part of me, but she created it. I used to be so proud of that fact...”
Cadance sighed.
“All I ever wanted was to be just like her.”
Luna finished her tea and placed the cup gently back on the saucer.
“Then do so,” she said.
“Excuse me?”
“Think of the times my sister inspired you,” said Luna. “The times she showed compassion, wisdom, or love. Think of that Princess Celestia. And strive to be like her.”
Before Cadance could reply, Luna raised her hoof.
“No,” she said. “Allow me to retract that. Do not strive to be like her. Strive to surpass her. To be the paragon that she only pretended to be.”
“Princess...” Cadance said. “How could you ask that of me? I'm not some kind of eternal ruler like she was. The alicorn gift only lasts a hundred years. I was born a normal pony. And I'll die as one.”
“That is why it must be you,” Luna said. “You know something she and I never can.”
“And what is that?”
“Limitation,” the night princess replied.
Cadance responded by getting off her chair and giving Luna a silent, respectful bow.
Why did her back suddenly feel so heavy?
“I do not wish to overwhelm you, Mi Amore,” Luna said. “But as long as we are on the subject of your duties, I have a favor to ask.”
Cadance smiled. Luna noted mentally that her expression seemed more than a bit forced.
“I believe you have met most of the ponies who assisted in the destruction of the Circle, have you not?”
Upon mention of the Circle, Cadance's smile vanished.
“Yes,” she said. “I knew Sweetie Belle already; she was one of the flower fillies at my wedding. And of course Twilight Sparkle and I go way back. And Twist...”
“I believe the two of you have become friends, have you not?” Luna said.
“I'm just helping with her therapy,” Cadance said. “When I think of the awful things that were done to that dear little foal...”
Cadance grimaced. “She's getting better...” she said. “But that's just it. I don't think she'll ever stop getting better. It's never going to end for her. For any of them. There's so little I can do to really help her...”
“Twist has spoken to me about you,” Luna said. “She says you have made a great difference. Thanks to you, she has finally returned to school.”
“Really?” Cadance's sad expression evaporated in an instant. She clapped her front hooves together happily. “Oh, that's wonderful news! We've been working really hard to get her comfortable with being around large groups of foals again. I taught her a mantra to help her let go of her fear, and remind herself she has nothing to be ashamed of.”
“Yes,” Luna said, smiling. “She mentioned it during our last talk. And it is your success with her which leads me to ask this favor of you.”
Suddenly Cadance's back felt heavy again. But she thought of Twist, finally confident enough to return to school after all this time, and she returned a confident expression to Luna.
“Tell me, Mi Amore,” Luna said. “What do you know of Silver Spoon?”
*******
I remember very clearly the moment when I fully realized just how broken I am.
It happened the night the Circle fell. Styngian was about to take Rarity away, so Sweetie Belle was saying goodbye to her sister. I had walked away from them, to give them a little bit of privacy. But it was no use. I couldn't stop looking in their direction.
I remember Diamond Tiara was speaking to me at the time, but I don't think my mind processed the words. They were just sounds, rushing past my mind like meaningless little gusts of wind. I didn't mean to ignore my friend. Not after I had spent months wishing to see her again.
But I had already said my goodbyes to Miss Rarity. They had been short, direct, and oddly tender. She had told me how sorry she was for all that she'd done to me. I told her I forgave her, and that I hoped she found peace.
And then I left her side. I like to think that I did it with enough grace that no one could tell how monumentally difficult the simple act of walking away from Rarity was. But I had no other option. The longer I spoke to her, the harder it became to leave her.
So I stood there on the soft grass of Fancy's estate, while Diamond Tiara whispered incomprehensible noise into my ear. I stood there, and I watched Rarity embrace her little sister for what could very well have been the last time.
Then the sisters broke their embrace, and I heard the dragon's voice, echoing through the sky like words made of thunder:
“It is time, Rarity.”
She nodded, and gave her sister one last kiss: a platonic, sisterly peck on her forehead. It seemed so unlike her. But I guess that was the point.
Then Sweetie sadly walked away from her, and Styngian lowered one of his massive claws for Rarity to step into. She fit easily in his palm.
It was when he picked her up that I lost my composure.
“He's taking her away...” I said.
“Silver?” Diamond asked. It was the first thing she had said to me that registered. “What did you say?”
“He's taking her away!” I said, starting to panic. “He's going to take her and then I'll never see her again!”
All my resolve, all my carefully practiced shows of dignity, all vanished in an instant. The dragon was spreading his wings, with Rarity cupped between his claws. He was about to fly away with her.
I wasn't thinking. My mind had shut down and there was nothing left of me but a storm of emotions. Fear. Panic. Confusion.
And love.
“STOP! BRING HER BACK!” I screamed as I ran toward the dragon. “MISS RARITY, WAIT! I STILL NEED TO TALK TO YOU!”
The dragon began to flap his wings, creating a powerful wind. It knocked me over.
So I stood up, and, with all my might, began to run against it.
“MISS RARITY, DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE!” I screamed. “I STILL LOVE YOU!”
I looked up at Rarity, and she gave me a sad, gentle smile. And in her eyes, I saw something I had never seen before.
I think it was pity.
I kept running with all my strength, until suddenly, I stopped. There was a weight around my forelegs, holding me back.
“Don't do this!” Sweetie Belle said as she held on to me. “Don't go back! Remember what you said to her before! You don't need her anymore!”
“Let me go, Sweetie!” I shouted desperately. “SOMEONE STOP HIM!”
The dragon had left the ground.
“MISS RARITY!” I screamed as Styngian rapidly ascended. “I NEED TO SEE YOU! I NEED...I need...”
The pressure around my forelegs was gone. In its place, two little legs gently wrapped themselves around my chest.
Sweetie Belle was hugging me.
“It's okay,” she whispered. “She's gone.
“We're free now.”
The word echoed in the back of my mind. “Free.”
For the first time in nearly a year, I felt like I didn't belong to anyone. Not to Rarity. Not to Fancypants. I was my own pony. I was free.
And the prospect terrified me.
“I'm sorry...” I whispered. “I thought I was finally over her...”
“I wish it were that easy, Silver. Believe me. But don't worry,” Sweetie replied. “You'll get there. We both will.”
I heard a rustle in the grass then, and realized that Sweetie and I weren't alone. My little outburst had drawn the attention of nearly everyone on the grounds of the estate. Princess Luna, the Gallery foals, and Twilight Sparkle were all staring at me. The foals seemed more confused than anything else, but the two grown mares wore expressions of sad concern.
“Silver...” Twilight began. But I wasn't looking at her.
I was looking at the one pony who hadn't turned and stared at me.
Diamond Tiara had her back to me. She alone hadn't turned to watch my breakdown. For a moment, I thought she had done so to spare my feelings.
But then she turned around, just for a moment, and then looked away again.
I'll never forget the way she looked at me that night.
She was ashamed of me.
And she had every reason to be.
I looked down at the ground, too humiliated to look any pony in the eye. My voice was barely a whisper when I spoke.
“Help me...” I said. “Someone...please...”
“Do not worry, child,” Princess Luna replied. Her normally serious voice had a soft gentleness to it as she spoke. I didn't tell her, but it reminded me of her sister.
“Every foal who has suffered at the Circle's hooves will get the help they need. You have my word, Silver Spoon.”
I nodded, then softly nudged Sweetie Belle so she would let me go. She did, and I collapsed on the grass.
I lay there, crying softly, for what felt like hours. I didn't speak to anyone, and kept my eyes closed the entire time.
When I finally opened them, I saw three ponies sitting on the grass by my side.
Sweetie Belle, Twist, and Diamond Tiara had been sitting with me in silence. Diamond's expression of shame was gone, replaced by a warm smile. A smile shared between all three of my friends.
“We'll get there,” Sweetie said. “We'll get there.”
On the train back to Ponyville, I asked Diamond how she went from refusing to look at me to sitting next to me on the grass.
"Because Sweetie Belle held you back," she said.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I didn't realize it until after you began crying, but what Sweetie did should have been impossible," Diamond said. "Remember second period anatomy class? Even a weak Earth Pony is three or four times stronger than a unicorn. And Sweetie can't use magic. So there's no way she could have stopped you. Not if you had really been fighting her."
A smile crept across my lips as I realized what Diamond was saying.
"You're closer to getting better than you think, Silver," Diamond said. "Just wait and see."
I embraced my friend as Ponyville came into view outside our window.
It's been four months since then. Four months of weekends spent at Canterlot's newly opened Home For Victims of Foal Abuse. The doctors say I'm a special case. They say I can't live here like most of the Gallery foals do, it's not good for my recovery. I need to “experience autonomy” by going to school back in Ponyville during the week. It's important that I have a normal childhood, they say.
I try to humor them. But it amazes me that they don't realize that it's far too late for me to ever be normal again.
The pattern is always the same. Each new therapist will ask me to tell them about school, my friends, my favorite books or music. Normal things. I guess this is meant to put me at ease.
Then they ask me about my relationship with Rarity. So I tell them. I hold nothing back.
That's when the cracks begin to form.
After that it's never the same. My therapists start to feel uncomfortable around me. They stutter when they speak to me, they avoid my gaze.
It's not their fault, I guess. They're trained to deal with fillies who were abused completely against their will.
They don't quite know what to make of a foal who walked up to her abuser and begged for it.
Maybe it's the way I tell them about it. I honestly don't mean to sound so excited when I talk about the things Rarity or her friends did to me. I know what they did to me was awful. And I truly want to overcome my past and move on.
But I can't pretend I didn't enjoy myself at the time. And, try as I might, I can't hide how much I enjoy recounting the memories.
Once we hit that point, it's all over. The next weekend, I'm suddenly assigned a new therapist. And the cycle begins again.
Today, I'm in a small room at the Home For Victims of Foal Abuse in Canterlot. I'm waiting for the arrival of my fifth therapist in four months. I was told, more than once, to be sure I was on time, because this particular pony's time was extremely valuable.
I look at the clock on the wall. She's over an hour late.
Desperate for something to do, I lie down on the couch and close my eyes.
I don't mean to think of Miss Rarity. But, like so many other times, she appears in my mind unbidden.
I can feel her standing over me. She's not really there, of course, but it's easy to pretend. I just have to remember that strong, all-encompassing presence.
She never needed to make a sound for me to know she was there. I just knew. The air in the room would feel just a tiny bit different. My heart would start to beat a little faster. I would shudder with anticipation, a split second before my conscious mind realized she was there.
Everything was different when Miss Rarity was in the room.
At first I thought she must wear some scent, some subtle perfume which I was picking up on without realizing. As it turned out, Miss Rarity hardly ever wore perfume. It made her sneeze. Her, of all ponies.
I mentioned that to Diamond Tiara not long ago. She burst out laughing, in that melodic, slightly malicious way of hers.
Moon, how I missed that laugh.
I know I should fight it. I shouldn't be thinking of Miss Rarity, not again. Not when all I want in the world is to get over her.
But sometimes the only thing in my life that makes sense anymore is how good it feels when I imagine she's standing over me while I rub my cunt...
I can hear her voice in my mind as I start. “What exactly do you think you're doing?” she asks. “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”
“I'm sorry, Miss Rarity,” I whisper. “I just need it so badly...”
“Disgusting,” she says. “Can't you go one minute without acting like a cheap little whore?”
“That's right...I'm a whore...” I say, a little louder. “And whores get fucked and abused because that's all we're good for, isn't that right, Miss Rarity?”
My cunt is soaking wet now. I can't control myself anymore. I start push my hoof inside...
“That's quite enough out of you,” Miss Rarity says. “I'll make you pay for disobeying me, you worthless slut.”
“How?” I say, almost breathlessly. “How are you going to punish me, Miss Rarity? Are you going to whip me? Beat me? Tie me up and blindfold me, so I don't see it coming when you burn me with your iron? Choke me until I pass out, then have one of your stallion friends fuck my unconscious body?”
My mind zeroes in on that last idea. The memory of that particular evening – what little of it I remember – comes flooding back. I hear the wonderful sound of my wet cunt being fucked as I start moving my hoof in and out even faster.
It's to be my third orgasm of the day, and it's barely past noon. I wish I could say my sex drive has decreased since Miss Rarity left, but it's only gotten stronger.
I know I can't keep acting like this. I don't want to keep longing for a pony who hurt and mistreated me, who brought so much pain to my friends.
But right now, there is only one thing in the world that matters: I need to come, and the only pony who can make that happen is Miss Rarity.
“Do it, Miss Rarity! Make me suffer!" I cry out. "I need you to make it hurt!"
CRASH!
I'm snapped out of my reverie by the sound of something breaking.
I open my eyes.
A light pink pony is standing in the room, her mouth agape in shock. The remains of a broken coffee mug are on the floor.
I'm so shocked and embarrassed that I reflexively say the first thing that comes to mind:
“All of the other therapists knocked before entering the room.”
The pony covers her eyes with her wing as she speaks. “I'll, um give you a moment to make yourself decent,” she says.
I'm so surprised by her presence that I don't notice her horn until she magically gathers up the pieces of her broken mug.
An alicorn. Dear sun, it's Princess Cadance.
Suddenly I feel very, very small.
“Well,” says Cadance, in a shaky, nervous voice. “I can see we have a lot of work to do.”
You can tell a lot about a pony by how she deals with the unexpected.
As for me, I'm usually pretty good at handling things I didn't anticipate. In my line of work, you have to be. Being a Princess means setting an example. When something unusual happens, my subjects look to me for guidance. And that means I have to be calm, confident, and ever so slightly aloof. It takes practice, but with time I've made it look like nothing in the world can phase me.
But there's always that moment, that brief instant after I sustain a shock, when I find myself totally speechless. It usually only lasts a second or two, but in those moments, I find myself unable to think of the right thing to say. It's more than just indecision: it's like flailing in the dark. But the moment usually passes before anyone can notice, and the image of the unflappable princess is preserved.
This moment is like that, but not quite.
It's worse than not knowing what to say. I'm not even sure what to feel.
The display in front of me is one of the most disturbing things I've ever seen. Despite the irritatingly loud creaking sound the door makes when I open it, Silver Spoon doesn't react at all as I enter the room. She's lost, somewhere deep within the worst parts of her imagination. She has her hindquarters pointed right in my direction. And she's touching herself.
Questions race through my mind. What in Equestria happened to this foal's mind? Did Rarity's abuse damage her to such an extent that she can't tell what sort of behavior is unacceptable in public? Does she enjoy breaking social taboos? Or is she so preoccupied with sex that she's forgotten where she is?
I open my mouth to scold her. But before I do, she begins to speak.
“How are you going to punish me?” she asks.
Oh, my moon.
She sounds so excited.
I don't say anything. How can I possibly scold her now? She sounds like that's the thing she wants most in the world...
For just a moment, I actually consider turning around and exiting the room. I can come back in a few minutes, when she's done. I'll just pretend I didn't see anything, and we can begin our first session together with a clean sla-
“...Miss Rarity!”
I let out a gasp. She wasn't talking to me.
She's speaking to Rarity. To the monster who nearly ruined her life.
And there is something in her voice which terrifies me to my very core.
“Are you going to whip me?” The child says happily to herself. “Beat me? Choke me until-”
I cover my ears with my forehooves. I can't bear to hear anymore.
I still don't know what I should be feeling right now. A dozen emotions fly through my mind, all jockeying for control. Should I be angry at the child? Should I pity her? Should I fear what she has become? Should I be feeling disgust at the awful sight before me?
Today, the role of the calm, unflappable princess is too much for me to bear. Today, I can offer no confident words, no air of superior wisdom. The mask slips, and for the first time in years, I don't feel like a princess.
I'm just Cadance. I'm just a pony.
And I feel utterly numb.
Unable to think of anything else to do, I lower my forehooves from my ears.
“Hurt me, Miss Rarity!” Silver Spoon cries out. “Make me suffer!”
There it is. That tiny aspect of her voice which utterly breaks my resolve.
I'm known informally as the Princess of Love. I've been good at love charms since I first got my horn, and I'm able to sense the love between two ponies just by being close to one of them. When they think of their special somepony and feel that warm inner glow, I feel it, too.
And I feel the same thing when Silver speaks Rarity's name.
It's faint, perhaps closer to infatuation than true love. But it's there. It's in her voice, in the sound of her moans as she touches herself.
Rarity was an animal who brought misery and suffering to the lives of scores of children. And when Silver Spoon speaks her name, I feel a tiny glimmer of the same emotion I feel for my husband.
I can't do this.
I have to get out of this room. Right now. I can't...Luna, I'm sor-
CRASH.
Oh, that's right. I completely forgot.
I was holding a coffee mug.
Silver Spoon turns around and looks at me. And, much to my surprise, it's actually a relief. That tiny, awful spark of love I had been sensing vanishes instantly. I feel like I'm coming up for air after being underwater for too long. Suddenly everything seems just a little bit better.
“All of the other therapists knocked before entering the room,” the filly says, almost mechanically.
I'm not used to that tone of voice. When you're a princess, you're accustomed to hearing ponies speak with deference and awe. They don't let you enter a room without making some sort of fuss. And they certainly don't give you passive-aggressive comments about your door etiquette.
Before me is a filly who treats royalty with disrespect, but speaks of a common rapist with awe and reverence.
I cover my face with my wing. My voice quivers, ever so slightly, as I tell her to make herself decent.
I've been told that it's up to me to save this filly. And I have no idea how.
*******
“Honey?”
“Wha...oh, you're still awake?”
“Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to...I guess I didn't realize how late it is.”
“It's okay. Trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah...Luna gave me a new task this afternoon. It's a bit...intimidating.”
“Oh no, it's not finally back, is it?”
“No, as far as Luna can tell, the Crystal Empire hasn't emerged yet. She said it probably wouldn't return until both royal sisters are equal in power again. Now that Celestia's...indisposed...it might not come back until she does.”
“Well, if that means we don't have to worry about this Sombra guy, then I'm fine with that outcome. This land has had enough tyrants to deal with lately."
Cadance could hear a slight twinge of anger in her husband's voice. It was always there in recent months, any time he spoke of Celestia.
Most of the Royal Guard didn't know the truth about her absence. But their captain had been informed.
At the age of eighteen, Shining Armor had taken an oath to, if necessary, lay down his life in Celestia's name.
Cadance remembered the night after her she and her husband had been told the truth about Celestia's disappearance. She remembered the letter of resignation she had found on Shining's desk the next morning, ready to be delivered personally to Princess Luna.
She had held him close to her before he left the next day. She had kissed him, and whispered into his ear.
“If this is what you really want, I won't stop you. But you've dreamed of being guard captain since you were a foal, Shining. And if that's still who you want to be, then don't you dare let her take that away from you. Don't you dare.”
Shining Armor was late to his shift that day. When he finally left, nearly an hour later, he took care to examine himself in the mirror, ensuring that his eyes did not look red, and his cheeks were dry. Military protocol would not allow for a captain who appeared unpresentable.
He gave his wife a brief salute and a goodbye kiss, just like he did before he left for work every morning.
The shredded remains of the resignation letter lay on the floor beside Cadance.
“It's nothing on the scale of the Crystal Empire,” Cadance said, as she sat in bed beside her husband. “It has to do with the Circle. There's another foal who Luna thinks I can help...”
“Is that what has you all worried?” Shining asked. “I thought you had helped some of those foals already.”
“I have, but this one...I don't know how to put it. They gave me her file this afternoon. I've been reading it over, and...she's not like most of the others, Shining. The things she did...the things witnesses say she asked to have done to her...”
The Princess sighed. “I'm not sure I can help her. I'm not sure she wants help.”
Cadance felt a pair of large, strong forelegs gently embracing her from behind.
She closed her eyes, trying to will herself back to the time when his embrace had made her feel safe. Back before...
“I know you can do this, sweetie. You're a Princess of Equestria. This whole kingdom believes in you. If you can't save that foal, no one can.”
And there it was. With those words, Shining Armor's hooves suddenly felt very, very heavy, as if they were holding her in place.
“What if that means no one can...?” she whispered.
“Sorry, what did you say?” Shining asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “Thanks, honey. I'm sure things will turn out okay.”
“Of course they will,” Shining Armor replied as he lay back down. “They've got the Princess of Love on the case, don't they?”
Cadance didn't respond. Instead, she kissed her husband on the cheek, then got out of bed and walked to the kitchen.
Tranquility Camomile was the rarest tea blend in all of Equestria. The flowers were of an exceptionally obscure variety, which grew only on the grounds of the royal palace, and which would grow from a seed, bloom, wither, and die on a single night each month: the night of the full moon. With its passing, it would leave behind a single seed, which could be planted at any time, but would never sprout until the moon was once again full.
The flower had not blossomed during the thousand years of Luna's exile. A few stubborn little seeds had remained in the ground, waiting patiently for the Princess to return.
It was said that no tea allowed one to sleep better than Tranquility Camomile, because Princess Luna personally blessed each flower with a tiny hint of dream magic.The lore said that Celestia herself did not sleep for weeks after she banished her sister, and only found rest after brewing and drinking the last cup of Tranquility Camomile left in Equestria. Cadance was not sure if this last detail was true.
What was true was that no pony had tasted this tea for over one thousand years. And fewer than ten ponies had done so since.
Cadance owned the largest supply of the tea in the entire world. And even that only amounted to about a dozen cups.
“I can always get more,” she said to herself as she brewed herself a cup. Being Princess had its privileges.
Luna had once told her that she found making the tea relaxing, but did not care to drink it. “I am told the taste is quite pleasant, but it merely tastes like water to me,” she had said. “Perhaps if I did not use my own magic...”
Cadance thought of Luna as she sipped from her cup. She hadn't mentioned it to Luna, but the Night Princess had looked exhausted when she had seen her that afternoon. Even after all these months, Luna still wasn't used to being active during the day.
No, that wasn't it, Cadance realized. This wasn't just physical exhaustion. There was a spiritual weariness to Luna's demeanor as of late. It was in her voice, in her eyes, in the way her smile took just a little too long to form on her lips.
So it isn't just me, Cadance thought. She feels it too.
Cadance finished her cup, and took a moment to enjoy the sensation as the last little sip made its way down her throat. She had experienced such vivid, wonderful dreams the first time she had tried this brew. But as of late, she found that she did not dream at all.
The tea had gone from an indulgence to a necessity. Drinking it was the only way she could get a good night's sleep anymore.
A soft whistle accompanied Cadance's basic telekinesis spell as her teacup, saucer and kettle were put back in their place. She returned to her bedroom.
The princess looked down at her sleeping husband, his mane messy and disheveled, his mouth slightly open as he slept. He was making the funny little noise he always made in his sleep, which was halfway between a snore and a whisper. It almost sounded like he was trying to speak. Cadance found it adorable.
“You're so beautiful,” Cadance whispered to him as she looked at his sleeping form. They had been married for over a year now, and she still felt the same love for him that she did on the day they had made their vows.
So why didn't she feel anything else when she looked at him?
To her relief, Cadance was not able to contemplate this question for long. Her thoughts began to drift away and dissipate, like little wisps of smoke, as she lay her head down on her pillow. The tea never failed.
*******
“Get out.”
I tried. I really did.
Maybe this whole thing was doomed from the start. I mean, Cadance did walk in on me at the worst possible time. As first impressions go, I could have done better.
But I tried so hard to smooth things over. I answered all her questions. I spoke to her with total honesty, told her things about my time with Rarity that I haven't told anyone else. And it seemed like she was opening up to me, too.
It can't have been easy for her to tell me what she did. To entrust a foal she had just met with such a huge secret...
I thought she was different from the others. I thought she respected me as a pony, not just as something broken that needed fixing.
My mistake.
“Silver Spoon. You have no right to speak to me like this,” she says. Her voice was casual and friendly a moment ago. But now she's speaking with authority, in the stern voice of someone who is used to giving orders and receiving total obedience. For the first time since she entered the room, she sounds like a Princess.
But I still remember a time when I served an authority who I revered as higher than any Princess. And when I think of Miss Rarity's voice, Cadance's has no power over me.
“I'm trying to help you, Silver,” she says. “I thought we were having a nice conversation. But if you think I'll just stand by and-”
“I SAID GET OUT!” I reply. “If you ever even try to do that to me...”
“It would be for your own good, Silver,” she says. “And after what you've told me...I think it might be the only way to help you. Don't you want to get better?”
“Not like that,” I say. “Never like that. Find another way.”
“There might not be another way...” Cadance says.
I reply with the only three words I can think of to describe the pony I see in front of me:
“You're a failure.”
Cadance doesn't respond. But I notice her shifting her weight ever so slightly, as if she had trouble standing for just a moment.
That's it. I've struck a nerve. Without really meaning to, I've found the chink in Cadance's armor.
I know she's not my enemy. I know she's just trying to help. But to say what she just said...to even suggest it...
In my anger, old instincts begin to reassert themselves in my mind. I haven't been a bully for a long time. But it's not something you forget how to do. It's all about finding a weak spot. And exploiting it.
“YOU'VE FAILED!” I shout at her. “You hear me, Miss High and Mighty Princess? You were the last pony in Equestria who could possibly help me. And you let me down.”
Cadance's whole stance has changed. “That...that's not...” she says. Her authoritative voice is gone.
I've won.
“Yes it is,” I say calmly. “And you know it.
“Now get out.”
The Princess closes her eyes.
Nothing moves except her lips. She's mumbling something to herself, but I can't make out what it is. It only lasts a few seconds, and it's followed by the sound of a long, deep sigh.
Then she's silent for a second. Completely still. Until she opens her eyes.
“Maybe you're right,” she says. Now her voice is totally calm. “But it doesn't change my recommendation.”
Dammit. I thought I had her...
“You'll never get better as long as you still have feelings for Rarity. You know that, don't you?”
“But...but...” I stammer. She raises a hoof, and for some reason, I quiet down instantly.
“If it helps, you should know that the spell won't be painful. It should hardly take a moment for me to perform, actually. It's just part of my special talent. When I sense a feeling of love between two ponies, I can enhance it. In theory, it shouldn't be hard to do the opposite.”
I shake my head, and start to slowly back away from Cadance. But there's nothing behind me but a wall. I have nowhere to go.
“Don't you see? This must be why Luna asked me to help you. Because I'm the only one who can do this,” Cadance says. “I can remove your feelings for Rarity, Silver Spoon. It will be like they were never there at all.”
I had taken precautions. A glamor which altered the colors of my coat. A spell which changed my Cutie Mark. I had left my crown at home, of course. But it wasn't enough. I was never very good at concealment magic.
That was why I needed a cloak. It would cover my face and conceal my wings. But a mare wearing a cloak on a warm evening in early autumn would attract too much attention. I would need an excuse.
So I consulted my copy of the official Pegasus Weather Calendar. The next evening rainfall was weeks away. I counted the days down in my head.
It's okay, I told myself. I'm not doing anything wrong. I'm just going to take a look.
It's funny how, of all the things I experienced that night, what I remember the most are the sounds. All the voices, chattering away at once. The slight creek the leather straps made. The screams. They still confuse me. I'm still not sure if the pony screaming was scared or enraptured.
I could never tell my husband what I did. I could never tell anyone.
So why did I tell her?
*******
Silver Spoon sat on her bed, staring at the poster on the wall. Each time she spent a weekend at the Home For Victims of Foal Abuse, the administrative staff would assign her a different room to spend the night in. Silver never minded this much, as the rooms were practically identical, with the same clinical gray wallpaper, and identical closets and mirrors. Each room even boasted the same style of door, each equipped with double locks. Some foals at the Home, Silver had learned, were extremely protective of their privacy, so they were allowed to lock others out anytime they wished to be alone. A few spent almost all their time like this, emerging only to eat or go to counseling sessions.
The one variation in all the rooms was the poster. The staff, perhaps in a slapdash effort to liven up the drab surroundings, had put one up in every room. They were always different.
The one from her first visit had borne an image of several happy foals standing together beneath a rainbow. It seemed that care had been taken to assemble a broadly representative group: there were Earth Ponies, a Pegasus, a Unicorn, and even a zebra. The slogan “BE PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE!” was displayed in bright yellow letters.
Over the weeks that followed, Silver had encountered several posters in a similar vein, always showing smiling ponies and words of encouragement. Most had images of anonymous foals, but a few featured famous ponies who foals might look up to, such as Princess Luna or Spitfire.
Not a single poster in the Home featured Princess Celestia.
Silver stared at this week's poster as she sat on her bed, still fuming over her most recent therapy session. The poster bore the smiling image of Princess Cadance, along with the slogan, “TODAY IS GOING TO BE A GREAT DAY!”
“Liar,” she whispered.
There was a knock on the door.
“Go away!” Silver shouted. “I told you, I'm not interested in your stupid spell, so just leave me alone!”
“Um, it's me,” replied a familiar voice. It wasn't Cadance's. “Sorry, is this a bad time? I just wanted to say hi...”
Silver sat up. “Sweetie! No, it's fine, come in!”
Sweetie Belle entered the room, smiling weakly at her friend. The filly had changed in the past few months. She was thinner, and tended to speak with a quieter voice than Silver was accustomed to. None of this was completely new to Silver. But one more recent change struck her as soon as she saw her friend.
“Your mane!” she said. “It's so short!”
“Yeah...” Sweetie said, blushing a bit. “I finally decided it was time to cut it.”
Sweetie approached Silver's bed, while the Earth Pony filly examined her new style. It was short and very straight, and had none of the flourish of her previous style, with its voluminous curls.
“I guess that makes sense,” Sweetie said. “Twist said I looked like Scootaloo. She's pretty daring.”
“Um, yeah...” Silver said, happy to have something to think about beside Cadance. “So why the change? I don't think I've ever seen you with a different style...”
Sweetie flopped down on the bed, laying flat on her back. She stared at the ceiling as she spoke to Silver.
“You know where I got my old style, right? I got it from her.”
Sweetie Belle rarely spoke her sister's name anymore. But the inflection she used when she said “her” made it perfectly clear who she was referring to. Her voice would drop just a tiny bit, in the way that one might speak of a loved one who had recently died. Silver wasn't certain if Sweetie was aware she was doing it.
“It was the day before I first started school,” Sweetie said wistfully, “I was so nervous about going. I didn't tell anyone, but somehow she could tell. So she surprised me with a new dress she had sewn herself. And then she put my mane up in curlers, and spent the whole afternoon giving me a makeover. She even closed the shop early so she could concentrate on helping me get ready for my big day...”
Sweetie ran her hoof over her manecut. She let out a small sigh.
“And it worked. I felt so excited to be going to school. And I actually got lots of compliments on my mane, too. So after that, I kept it styled exactly the same all the time...”
“Until now,” Silver said. “So, then, why...?”
“I finally started to get my appetite back,” Sweetie said. “Yesterday, I ate three full meals for the first time since that dragon took her away.”
“And you're starting to talk like yourself again,” Silver said. “I was pretty scared when you just stopped talking to me after Miss Rar-after she left. I thought I had done something wrong...”
“It wasn't just you,” Sweetie said. “I didn't want to talk to anyone. It was like I was paralyzed. I just missed her so much...”
“I miss her, too...” Silver said.
“But that's just the thing!” Sweetie said. “My whole life, I wanted her gone, and then when she was, all I wanted was for her to come back! I know she was mean, and that she hurt us, but all I can ever seem to think of are the times she was nice to me! It's so confusing!”
Silver hadn't heard Sweetie Belle speak with such passion since the Circle fell. She smiled softly to herself. Slowly but surely, her friend was coming back.
“So last week I was talking to Miss Plumtree...she says hi, by the way...”
Silver rolled her eyes. Plumtree had been her most skittish counselor. She meant well, but her aversion to any sort of sexual discussion made Silver wonder what in Equestria she thought she was doing working with sexually abused foals. Still, she seemed to be good at putting Sweetie at ease.
“...and she told me that I needed to try and get rid of things that reminded me of my sister. So I could get used to her not being around anymore...”
“So the haircut...”
“Every time I looked in the mirror, I would think of her, and what she did for me that day...” Sweetie said. “That had to stop. So I borrowed some scissors from Twilight, and...”
Silver smiled. “You don't really look like Scootaloo, you know. Her mane's longer,” she said. “So...do you still think of your sister when you look in the mirror?”
“More than ever,” Sweetie said. “But I think that's because I'm not used to my mane being different. Right now it doesn't look like a new cut, it just looks like the old one is missing. But pretty soon it'll grow into a new style, and that one'll be different from either of the other two. It won't have anything to do with her. It'll just be mine.”
Sweetie rolled over onto her side, so she was facing Silver. “Or at least, that's what I hope, anyway.”
Silver Spoon ruffled her friend's mane. “You should get a nice braid,” she said, in a gently teasing voice. “All the prettiest ponies have braids.”
Sweetie dismissed her with a laugh. Silver Spoon smiled, then turned and looked back at the poster. Cadance's smiling face stared right back at her.
“Do you want to forget her?” Silver asked. “Is that why you're doing this?”
“What? Of course not...” Sweetie said. Her tone began to lose its former energy. “I don't ever think I could forget her. And even if I could, I wouldn't. I just want to...put her where she belongs, I guess. In the past.”
“Cadance wants me to forget her...” Silver said. “She says there's a spell she could do that would erase my love for her. She could even fix it so I don't remember ever having had feelings for her.”
“What?” Sweetie said. “She can do that? Oh my gosh, don't tell me she-”
“No,” Silver said. “The spell won't work without the consent of the target pony. And of course, I told her no...”
Sweetie sat up. “I can't believe she'd even suggest that. It seems so...I don't know...final.”
“I think that's the problem...” Silver said. “I think they brought her in as a last resort. Because they're starting to give up on me...”
“Silver...”
“What if they're right, Sweetie?” Silver Spoon said, still locking eyes with the smiling image of Cadance. “What if I can't ever escape how I feel about Miss Rarity? What if this is the only way for them to fix me?”
Silver Spoon lowered her head.
“I want to get better...” she said. “But at the same time...I don't. Because it would be like losing her all over again...”
Silver took off her glasses as tears began to collect on the bedsheets.
“I thought I was better than this...the whole time I lived with Fancy, I kept telling myself I was! That I could move on, that I didn't need her to keep hurting me...
“...so why is it that the thing I want most in the world is for her to come back?”
Sweetie's expression changed, as though Silver's words had sparked some painful realization in her own mind. She did not give it voice. Instead, she reached out and hugged her friend.
Silver didn't make a sound for several minutes. When she finally spoke again, her voice sounded weak and almost fearful.
“I'm supposed to see Cadance again tomorrow,” Silver said. “I figured she'd cancel the appointment after I yelled at her today, but the staffer said she left without changing anything. What if she still wants to change my memory? What am I going to say to her?”
“You said she can't do it without your permission,” Sweetie replied. “So tell her no.”
“Yeah, but...”
“Silver, is Cadance mean?”
“No...” Silver said. “Until we got mad at each other, she was really nice...”
“Then why are you so scared of her?” Sweetie Belle said. “Come on, Silver. You didn't let Fancy scare you, and he was a horrible pony who tried to kill my sister! Cadance is nice, she's just confused about what to do with you.”
“You don't know what happened when she first saw me...” Silver said. “It wasn't a very good first impression...”
Sweetie let go of Silver and looked her in the eye.
“So what? Look, your special talent is all about sweet-talking high society ponies, isn't it? Well, who's more high society than a Princess?”
Silver laughed. “Sweetie...” she said. “It doesn't really work like tha-”
“Then MAKE it work like that!” Sweetie said. “I can't believe that my friend the liberator of the Gallery, my friend who told off my sister when it mattered the most, my friend, who saved my life, is scared to talk to Cadance! She just wants to help you, dummy! The two of you just have to figure out how!”
Silver sat back on the bed, letting Sweetie Belle's words sink in.
Yeah, she thought. I did do all those things, didn't I?
As if she was reading Silver's mind, Sweetie crossed her forelegs and added, “And you didn't need my sister to do any of that stuff, either! So just tell her that!”
Silver's eyes lit up at Sweetie's words. An epiphany struck the foal, and suddenly, her fear was gone.
“Yes, I did! I DID need her, and that's exactly what I have to tell Cadance!”
“Um, what?” Sweetie said, cocking an eyebrow. “I don't see how saying that would help...”
“Trust me,” Silver said. “I think I finally know how I can make her understand!”
“If you say so,” Sweetie said, sounding unconvinced. “Let me know how it goes, okay?”
Silver nodded.
“Oh, and listen,” Sweetie said. “There's going to be something happening in Ponyville on Monday. Something important. I think you should be there...”
Though she tried her best to hide it, Sweetie noticed a hint of sadness in Silver's expression as Sweetie told her what was going to happen.
It's okay, she thought. I feel the same way.
*******
The dinner table at our house is normally a place of lively conversation. Shining and I will discuss our workdays, trade local gossip, comment on the news or the lives of our friends. Talking with Shining is hardly ever boring. It's one of my favorite things about my husband, actually. I usually come home after a long day's work bursting with new topics of conversation to bounce off of him.
Tonight, I hardly speak a word.
“So how did it go with Silver Spoon?” Shining asks, in an obvious attempt to break the uncomfortable silence.
“It went fine,” I reply, a bit more curtly than I mean to. “I'm seeing her again tomorrow.”
“Oh,” he says, looking a little awkward. “That's good...”
I stand up from the table. My food is barely touched, but I just don't have an appetite this evening.
“I've got some more work I need to take care of,” I say. “I'll be in the study for a little bit, okay?”
I force a smile for my husband, then turn and walk across the hallway.
As soon as I'm in the study, I feel like I'm going to be sick.
What have I done?
I was just trying to help Silver Spoon. On some level, she must know that I wouldn't suggest altering her emotions unless I thought there was no other option.
I'd like to say that my failure to connect with her is what's really bothering me. That my distress comes from compassion for another pony. That I'm acting like the caring, selfless princess they all think I am.
But I'm not. I'm just scared for myself. Because today I made a terrible mistake.
Silver Spoon didn't seem to trust me at first. I told her she could tell me anything, but after the way things went when we first saw each other, she seemed reluctant to talk to me at all.
I'm not sure what possessed me to tell her my secret. Perhaps I was desperate. Or perhaps I thought she would understand the choice I made that night.
And if she understood, perhaps she could tell me why I did it.
But instead, I made her angry. I made a filly who is personally known to Princess Luna furious with me, and left her with a secret that could destroy my reputation.
By morning, they might all know. They might all know what I did on the night that I crept out of my husband's bed and left the house at midnight.
They might all know what happened when I finished waiting for the rain.
SOUNDS TO LISTEN FOR NEXT TIME:
Laughter, first cruel, then compassionate.
The loud crack of a whip as it meets with flesh.
And the splish-splash of hooves on rain-drenched steps
Cadance opened the door to the counseling room to find Silver Spoon sitting dutifully on her chair, the very picture of a polite, well-behaved young filly. She welcomed the Princess with a warm smile.
Cadance was petrified.
Oh sun, she thought. Who did she tell?
“It's, um, nice to see you in such a good mood, Silver,” Cadance said hesitantly as she entered the room, closing the door behind her.
“It's nice to see you, too, your highness,” Silver said. “There's something I need to tell you.”
Cadance let out a tiny wince. Silver noticed, but did her best not to let this on.
“Two things, actually,” the foal said. “First, I'm sorry I yelled at you yesterday. I talked things over with a friend, and I don't think I was fair to you.”
Cadance noticed a slight change in Silver Spoon's tone from yesterday. Her inflection was different, and she seemed to be drawing out her pronunciation of each word just a tiny bit, as if she were trying to give every syllable a certain level of gravity. The result was a more cultured-sounding, almost soothing way of speaking. It reminded Cadance of the tone foreign diplomats often took with her.
“Second,” Silver Spoon continued. “I'd like to see if we could start over. Can we leave what happened yesterday in the past? I know you just want to help me...”
Cadance smiled. “Of course, Silver Spoon,” she said. “I do apologize if I upset you yesterday. I guess I've had trouble understanding your point of view when it comes to your...past experiences. But I'm sure that with your help-”
Silver raised a hoof, seemingly a signal for Cadance to stop speaking, and the Princess surprised herself by complying immediately.
Wait, why did I-?
Silver Spoon began to speak, in that same practiced, cultured tone. As soon as she heard it, Cadance realized why she had deferred to the foal.
Diplomacy. Of course, she thought. When you're dealing with a diplomat, you have to treat them as your equal. After a while, that just becomes habit.
How could she possibly have known...?
“The thing is, your highness...” Silver said, trying not to stammer.
Why did I raise my hoof like that? Silver thought to herself. I can't believe I tried to silence a Princess! She's going to think I'm a stuck-up little brat now!
“Yes, Silver?” Cadance said. If she was upset at Silver's gesture, the foal could not detect it in her voice.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude just now,” Silver said. “But...you're wrong. When you say you don't understand me, I mean. I think you understand me really well, Princess. Maybe you just don't realize it.”
“Oh?” Cadance asked. “Why do you you say that?”
“Because of the secret you told me yesterday,” Silver replied.
*******
Rain is never late in Canterlot. The local weather team takes great pride in its punctuality. If the schedule says there's going to be a storm eleven minutes after midnight, then that's when it will happen.
I knew the rain wouldn't be late. And yet it felt as if it were taking far too long.
I still had five minutes. Still plenty of time to change my mind.
I looked back at the bedroom. The door was shut, but I knew he was in there. My husband. My partner. The stallion I loved more than any other pony in the world.
If I did this, would I be betraying him?
It had been two weeks since the Circle had fallen, and taken Celestia with it. As one of her first decrees, Luna had ordered the royal guards to do a total sweep of Canterlot's “more unseemly places of business.” Always the old-school royal, she'd done her best to use demure language. But we all knew what she meant.
Some things are inevitable when you live in a big city. Litter. Crowds. And a successful local sex trade. Celestia, for all the wrongs she committed, was wise enough to know that there was no getting rid of it. So instead, she tried to control it. Street prostitution was illegal, but a few select brothels were permitted under strict regulations. Shops which sold sexual books or toys were taxed just like any other store. Underground clubs catering to various tastes were tolerated, so long as they stayed out of sight. Laws were put in place so that no sex-themed establishment could operate within two blocks of another. The idea was to prevent the creation of a red-light district.
It worked. And that just made my husband's job that much harder.
Luna's edict was clear: the guards were to investigate every sexual business in town and make sure none had any Circle connections. They were to ensure that only grown ponies were involved, and that these businesses took measures to ensure that foals were kept away from their establishment at all costs.
And if the guard encountered an establishment which was involved with foals, Luna's orders were explicit and simple: “Raze it to the ground.”
It took Shining and his guards more than a week to investigate them all. Thankfully, a large majority of the places were on the up-and-up; of the several dozen establishments around town, only six had to be shut down.
My husband loves to tell a good story. He has an enthusiasm for it which just captivates me sometimes. He'll come home from work full of anecdotes about his day, and then lose himself while telling them to me. He'll laugh, wave his forelegs for emphasis, and imitate the voices of other ponies. He has a knack for telling me about his most dangerous or unpleasant assignments in a way that makes them seem downright harmless. I think he does it partially to protect me, to help me forget how dangerous his line of work is.
I never forget. I remember it every morning, when he walks out our front door. But I appreciate him trying.
But this week, his storytelling style had taken on a completely different quality. When he told me about his investigation of Canterlot's sex trade, his usual enthusiasm vanished. In its place was a certain squeamishness, an embarrassed hesitation. He still told me all about his day, though he thankfully left out any details about the places which had harbored foal molesters. But he told his stories quickly, with none of his usual flair, and always seemed to be in a hurry to move on to another topic.
My husband, the straight-laced, all-Equestrian model citizen, was the last pony who would ever walk into one of these places by choice. Even the tamest of these establishments made him deeply uncomfortable.
I tried not to let on how much hearing him speak like that upset me. It brought up too many bad memories.
It reminded me too much of what our sex life had become.
Shining loves me with all his heart. I don't doubt that for a moment. But I'm not sure if that means he desires me. Because when we make love, I can see that same embarrassed awkwardness in him that I saw when he spoke of the sex clubs. He never complains, of course. I almost wish he would. At least then I could tell he had some sort of investment in it. But his interest in sex seems to be similar to his interest in practicing military drills; it is a duty which he is obligated to perform, and he does out of love –for his wife, for his country – without hesitation, without regret.
Without enjoyment.
His focus is always completely on me: he asks what I want, works to satisfy me, and tries to do so as quickly as possible. And I play my own part in our little charade. I yelp, I moan, I tell him how good he is at pleasing me. I try not to let on how exhausting the whole exercise is.
Once or twice, I have thrown caution to the wind and asked for something different from him. I ask if I can focus on pleasuring him tonight instead. He will nod. I'll ask him what he'd like me to do.
Invariably, he will reply, “I don't know...I want to do whatever makes you happy.”
And then we return to the routine. And I try not to let him know how suffocating his kindness can feel.
For a while, I thought it was me. I thought I was doing something wrong. I tried every approach I could think of, but it seemed that my husband simply had a minimal interest in sex. The thought of another mare occurred to me, but that typically occurred when a stallion's sexual passion for his wife had fizzled, not when it had never been there in the first place.
My husband, moon bless him, is a pony who understands duty. He knows what he's expected to do, and he carries out his orders. It's not just how he approaches being captain of the guard: it's how he lives his life. The conventional wisdom is that a stallion has a duty to satisfy his wife. I am fairly certain my husband simply has no real interest in sex. Yet he does it anyway, because he loves me, and because that's what a husband does.
I wish I could appreciate what he does for me more. But I can't begin to express how exhausting it is to come home from a day of being Princess -- where other ponies split their time between bowing and scraping before you and putting the fate of the nation on your back – only to have my husband ask me, “what do you want me to do?”
So I tell him. After a long day of giving orders in a throne room, I give orders in my bedroom. And I feel utterly numb while doing so.
But that week, while he sat at the dinner table and described his investigations of the sex industry to me, I was anything but numb. Despite my husband's squeamishness, I was excited, in a way that I hadn't been in a long time. He would tell me of underground clubs where sex was a spectacle, with couples fornicating in front of crowds of ponies. He told me of stores that sold amazing magical pleasure devices, some of which were enchanted so they could keep a pony on the edge of climax for hours, unable to come until their partner said a certain word. And he spoke of one establishment in particular, the place it had taken him the longest to find.
“It's hidden in plain sight,” he said. “There's no sign out front, and no directions posted anywhere. You either know where it is or you don't. I only found out after asking around at some of the other places. There's nothing illegal going on there, but...I just don't get it...”
Shining lowered his head as he spoke. I softly brushed his mane with my hoof, hoping it would coax him to continue. I needed to hear about this place.
“I walked in, and I heard a cracking sound. It was a whip...this mare was whipping a stallion, and he was tied up, like a prisoner! And a bunch of other ponies were just standing there, watching. So of course, I was about to arrest all of them, but do you know who stopped me? The pony being whipped!”
“You don't say?” I replied, amused at my husband's naivete.
“It turned out he was a paying customer. They all were. He'd actually paid money to be tied up and whipped! I just couldn't...I mean, they weren't breaking any laws, but...”
Shining sighed. “I'll be glad when this assignment is over,” he said.
I could have let the matter drop right there. I could have changed the subject, and left well enough alone.
But for reasons I still don't completely understand, I asked him to tell me more. And I kept asking him. Until, finally, he mentioned the club's location.
What happened next was almost automatic. I'm still not sure when I took the decision, or even if I did it consciously. As far as I can remember, it happened almost the at moment he told me where the place was
It was then that I decided to wait for the rain.
*******
“Silver, listen...” Cadance said nervously. “I told you about that in confidence, and I don't think it's appropriate to be bringing it up right now. We're supposed to be talking about you...”
“Princess, believe me, I know how to keep a secret,” Silver replied, smiling. “That's not why I brought that up. I really meant what I said before. Now that I've had time to think about what you told me that night, I really think I understand you. And I think I can help you understand me, too...”
Silver closed her eyes, as if she was recalling a fond memory.
“You want me to let go of Miss Rarity, and I want that too. I really do! But I don't ever want to forget that I once loved her. And once we talk about what you did that night, I think you'll understand why.”
Cadance turned and looked at the wall. “I'm leading this session, not you,” she said. “My personal mistakes are not a topic we should be discussing.”
“Mistake?” Silver said, her voice sounding almost sad. “Why do you think it was a mistake?”
*******
The sidewalks are a small river, with water rushing toward me, washing over my hooves as I walk. It's one AM; I've been walking for half an hour. Even after the rain that I had been waiting for finally came, it took me over twenty minutes just to leave the house.
I've altered my mane color so it's light green, and my coat color has been turned a nice shade of blue. After several failed attempts, I managed to cast a spell to hide my wings, and my Cutie Mark has been changed into an image of three peaches.
No one can know it's me. A princess could never visit a place like this. A princess could never give into her base desires. A princess must be held to a higher standard. A princess must set an example.
And that is why she can never be free.
As I approach the entrance, I remove the hood of my cloak. Cold, wet rain slaps me in the face, and for just a moment, I have enough clarity of mind to realize how completely foolish I would be to go through with this.
Luckily, the moment is brief.
The building is unmarked, but otherwise nearly identical to every other store on this block. A pony could pass by it a hundred times and never give it a moment's thought.
They might not even notice the staircase to the side of the front door, which leads straight down to what appears to be a blank wall beneath the building.
They certainly wouldn't know that gaining entry is as simple as knocking on that wall three times.
The wall shimmers as the magical illusion surrounding it is broken. In its place is a door. Before I can reach for it, someone opens the door from the inside.
A large, annoyed-looking minotaur looks at me with his arms crossed.
“You got the cover fee?” he says.
I nod, and place the money in his hand.
He snorts, pockets the money, and motions for me to enter.
I look up at the sky. The rain is pouring harder than ever. It'll stop precisely at 4:30. I need to be sure I'm home by then.
Home...
And then I think of my husband. My sweet, brave, adorably skittish, impossibly kind husband.
He doesn't know where I am. He can't ever know.
“You coming or not?” the minotaur asks, and I realize I've been standing out here in the rain for over a minute while he held the door open for me.
“Oh! I'm...” An image of Shining Armor flashes through my mind. “I'm...I'm sorry.”
I walk into the door. It shuts behind me immediately.
“Have fun,” the minotaur says.
I'm at the start of a corridor, at the end of which is a red curtain.
I start to walk toward it, not sure of what I'll find on the other side.
But I can hear laughter, and moans, and a pony crying out “Again! Harder!”
For a moment, I think her voice sounds beautiful. But then I realize there's nothing unusual about it.
It's the way she's speaking. She sounds so different from the usual court ponies I deal with. No polite tone. No formal speech. No practiced inflection.
I suppose now that I've come this far, there's no point in delaying any further. No reason to pretend I don't want this.
I've had a hundred chances to turn back. I could have forgotten about this place as soon as Shining mentioned it. I could have rejected the initial urge to come here. I could have let the rain pass.
But here I am, reaching out with my foreleg and pulling the curtain back as soon as I'm close enough to do so. I do it almost reflexively, as if I've been to this place before. As if this is normal.
As the curtain is pulled away, the sight before me is anything but normal.
In front of me is a large room which is lit with slightly dim red lights. Dance music is playing, but it's soft enough that the moans and screams coming from the room's inhabitants mostly drown it out. There are large, soft pillowy beds strewn all about; most have multiple occupants.
There are scores of ponies in this room, mares and stallions in roughly equal number. Most pay me no heed as I enter the room; they're too busy playing with each other. Some are kissing, others licking each other. Most are going much further than that.
A mare on the bed closest to me is sobbing as two other mares lick her cunt and asshole. For a moment, I think she's in pain. Until I hear her beg her partners to lick her deeper.
One bed has at least eight or nine ponies on it, all bunched together, cuddling touching, caressing and pleasuring each other at random. There is barely enough room on the bed for all of them, but that seems to be the point. Most of them have their eyes closed as they randomly reach out and touch each other with their hooves, rubbing up against whoever is closest.
One mare squeals as a stallion enters her cunt. He kisses her neck.
“What's your name?” the stallion asks.
“None of your business,” she says. She begins to thrust herself toward him as the mare behind her gropes her ass.
There are all sorts of hooks and ropes along the ceiling and walls. A stallion, who is wearing some sort of leather harness that forces his tail up, braces himself as he's bent over a table and strapped down by a skinny, beautiful mare. A loud slap echoes through the room as she strikes his ass with her hoof.
“You're trembling,” she says to him. Her voice has a beautiful sharpness to it, like a piece of music which ends abruptly. “This is your last chance to back out.”
“I'm sorry...” the stallion says. “I've just never done this before...”
“It's perfectly okay if you don't want to do it,” the mare says. “No judgments here. But I will have to ask you to find another mistress. I mean, if you're not into the things I'm into, it's just not going to work out. I can introduce you to a friend of mine who prefers to stay strictly hetero...”
“No, no, it's okay...” the stallion says. “I want to belong to you. I want to do this...I'm just nervous...”
“That's actually good news,” the mare says. “My other plaything likes his boys scared.”
She nods in the direction of a second stallion, who walks toward her, his head bowed.
“Take him,” she says, leaning back on a nearby chair and spreading her back legs. “Don't hold back.”
“Thank you, mistress,” the stallion says.
She begins rubbing herself as her slave penetrates the bound stallion's ass.
The bound stallion screams, and his partner hesitates for a moment. He looks at his mistress. She nods.
The slave resumes his pace, this time ignoring the whimpers coming from his restrained partner.
“Good boys,” says the mare, as she begins rubbing her clit. She's dripping all over the seat and seems to be speaking louder than she needs to, enjoying the stares she's getting from other patrons. “Oh, how I love watching my boys fuck! How about you, dear? Are you enjoying that big, hard cock in your ass?”
“I...I...” the bound stallion said, “I love it! I love it because you're watching me! Thank you for letting me serve you, mistress! Thank you!”
I blush. I'm just one of a small crowd of ponies who have gathered around to watch this spectacle, but somehow I feel as if I'm the only one here. Something in that stallion's tone, in way he speaks to his mistress with such adoration, makes me feel almost connected to him.
Even as the other stallion fucks him, the bound pony keeps looking back at his mistress. And every time he does, I can hear his breathing grow faster, his moans grow louder.
This isn't just about sex for him. It's about letting go. It's about becoming a vessel for someone else's pleasure. It's about the moment when their pleasure becomes your own.
Why do I know this so instinctively? Why does it feel so right to me?
I think back on all those nights when I asked my husband to tell me his desires, only for him to return the question back to me. I think of the frustration I felt on those nights, the desires which went unfulfilled. And I understand.
I look at the other stallion, whose pace has increased greatly in just a few minutes. There is a loud slapping noise as he thrusts himself completely into his partner. He bites his lip.
His mistress, now fucking herself with her hoof, seems to recognize the expression.
“Go ahead,” she says.
The stallion smiles, and makes one last, powerful thrust, hard enough to cause the heavy table his partner is tied to to tip forward slightly. He cries out as his seed shoots into the bound stallion's ass.
Both stallions are still for a moment, breathing heavily, but then their mistress beckons the unbound stallion toward her. He pulls out of his partner, who cries out softly as seed leaks from his hole.
“Thank you for letting me use him, mistress,” the stallion says. “Did you enjoy watching us?”
“Oh, you put on a good enough show,” says the mare. “But I haven't come yet. Fix that.”
The stallion bows, and kneels down before his mistress' spread back legs. She whimpers with delight as he begins eating her out.
“Ohh, before I forget,” she says between moans. “I'm glad you're enjoying watching us, everyone! Feel free to make use of my other slave while I'm having my way with this one.”
Appreciative cheers are heard from the crowd. A light brown unicorn mare, whose mane is completely shaved off, steps forward. She's wearing a strapon. The bound stallion twitches involuntarily.
But I'm barely paying attention to them. I'm transfixed at the sight of the mare being orally serviced by her stallion. A moment ago, he seemed, to the common observer, to be completely in control, taking his restrained partner and using him to get himself off, then leaving as soon as he was done.
But he was never in control at all. Everything he did, from his first thrust to his final climax, was about her. This stallion had given himself completely over to his mistress, turning himself into nothing but an instrument to her whims.
I remember the exact moment I realized that I wanted to be like him. It was when he first bowed to her.
I never bow to anyone. Not even Luna. Instead, I spend my days walking the palace halls and trying my best to remain aloof as scores of ponies bow down to me.
It's a sign of respect, of course. But it's also part of an unspoken agreement. The bows are never free. They come with a burden.
Sooner or later, one of the ponies who bows to me will come to me with a request. Princess, they will say. You who are wise and learned above all common ponies. Help us. Guide us. Save us.
So I do. And I am happy to do so. My life's work helps so many ponies, and it feels wonderful to make a difference.
But sometimes the weight of so many tasks is just too much. I need an escape. I need release.
I need someone to bow to.
I leave the spectacle I've been observing, almost as if I'm in a trance, and I begin to wander to the other side of the room, past the dance floor. Most ponies are ignoring the music, but there are a few couples dancing, though most are using it as a pretext to grope and fondle each other while making half-hearted shows of keeping up with the rhythm.
As I pass the dance floor, my eye is instantly drawn to a light blue stallion, who sits in a chair near the far end of the room, while a unicorn mare rubs his cock in plain view of the entire room. He is somewhat muscular, and quite well endowed. But that's not what makes him beautiful.
What makes him beautiful is the way he's looking at his partner. The lust and desire written on his face. His cock is throbbing, leaking precum all over his partner's hoof. But it's nowhere near as obscene as the way he looks at her.
No one has ever looked at me that way before.
All of a sudden, he grabs his partner by the mane. She stops touching him immediately, and he pushes her head down unto his cock. She opens her mouth obediently, taking him into her throat without a word.
I want to be her.
I begin walking in their direction without thinking. It happens automatically, like I'm being pulled toward them. Toward him.
I'm not sure how much time passes, if any does at all. But suddenly the stallion is looking me right in the eye.
“Hey there, Princess,” he says. “Enjoying the show?”
No.
How does he...how can he possibly...
I take a step back. “Why did you call me that?” I ask weakly.
The stallion laughs, and gently pushes his partner off his cock.
“No offense intended,” he says. “It's just that I've been watching you. The way you've been walking through this club, watching everyone but not saying anything. That slow, high-legged stride of yours. It's just so...regal, I guess. 'Princess' was the first word that came to mind. It's not like there aren't plenty of doms here who make their subs call them that.”
These terms are new to me, but I'm able to discern their meaning pretty quickly. So he thinks I'm dominant. I guess I usually am.
But not tonight. Tonight I want to be anything but.
I lower my head.
“That's just how I've always walked,” I say. “I'm sorry I put on airs. The last thing I want is for ponies to think I'm a...dom.”
The stallion smiles. His partner, on the other hoof, seems less pleased by my presence. She glowers possessively in my direction. I try my best to ignore her.
“The truth is,” I say. “I'm looking for someone to um, to serve...I want to be told what to do.”
“Do you want to?” he asks. “Or need to?”
“I need to!” I say instantly. “And you're so beautiful and strong and...I'm sorry, I'm probably being terribly rude...”
“Yes, you are,” the mare says. “My master is busy with me right now.”
“Now, Snowdrift, there's no need to be rude,” the stallion says. “If Princess here wants to have fun with us, I say we put her to the test.”
Snowdrift smiles, but I'm not sure I like her expression.
“Yes, master,” she says happily. “Whatever you say.”
“So you say you want to serve me tonight?” the stallion says. “My name is Charger. But you can call me Sir.”
Charger. I knew I recognized that name.
He's a member of the castle guard. I've never spoken to him before, but I see him almost every day. And almost every time I do, he is bowing to me.
Now, without hesitation, I bow to him.
“Yes, sir. Please tell me how I can serve you,” I say.
Suddenly my back feels so much lighter.
It no longer matters that I'm betraying my husband by being here. It no longer matters that I just handed over control to a pony I just spoke to for the first time. It doesn't matter that he very well may know who I am.
All of a sudden, nothing matters but him. My only genuine wish in the world is to follow his commands.
And for the first time in years, I feel free.
“Oh, it's not that simple, Princess. You see, Snowdrift here will get upset if I let just anyone join in on our fun. That's why, if you want to serve me, you have to serve her, first.”
Snowdrift walks over to me, and I notice for the first time that she's wearing a collar. It comes complete with a tag, which bears her name on it.
So he keeps her like a pet. And yet I'm being treated as though I'm lower than even her.
I sigh happily.
The mare runs her forehoof over my cheek, then leans in, opening her mouth.
I've never kissed a mare before. I'm not really interested in females at all.
But out of the corner of my eye, I see Charger watching us, with his erect cock in his hoof. It's all the motivation I need.
I open my mouth obediently, and taste another mare for the first time.
*******
“Why do you think it was a mistake?”
Cadance cocked her head to the side in confusion. Was this filly serious? Did she not understand the full implications of what Cadance had done? Or was her response some kind of sarcastic joke?
No, the Princess thought. Listen to Silver's voice. She's being sincere. She must not understand how wrong it is to...debase oneself the way I did. I have to remember, I'm dealing with a very sick little foal here.
“Of course it was a mistake,” Cadance said. “I...I betrayed my husband...”
“Have you talked to him about this?” Silver asked. “Maybe he-”
“That's ENOUGH, Silver Spoon,” Cadance said, raising her voice a bit higher than she intended to. “This session is supposed to be about you. I can't help you if you keep trying to remind me of...”
Cadance's voice quivered. “...of what I did that night.”
“...I'm sorry,” Silver said. “I just thought talking about this would help us connect a little better.”
“I'm afraid you were mistaken, then. I don't think you really understand the issues at play in my situation, Silver,” Cadance said.
“Maybe I don't...” Silver said. “I guess I don't see why you feel so bad about it. I mean, no one was being forced to do anything, right? And no foals were involved. It was just a bunch of ponies enjoying themselves. No one got hurt. Everyone had the right to say no...”
Silver looked down at her hooves.
“I've had sex more times than I can count,” she said. “But never like that.
“Is it wrong that when I heard your story, I was jealous of you?”
“Is it...?” Cadance echoed, shocked at the filly's question. Her voice trailed off as she pondered what she had just heard.
Cadance pictured a Pegasus mare she had seen at the club. The one who was bound in the center of the room, with her holes exposed. Cadance remembered how the mare retained a look of rapture on her face as pony after pony had used her body that night. But after an hour or so of such treatment, the mare had called out “stop!” and the stallion who had been fucking her had, immediately but with some reluctance, pulled out of her and left her alone, while one of the dominant ponies let her out of the harness.
The mare had smiled, given her master a kiss, and retreated to the far corner of the room for drinks and light conversation with a few friends.
Half an hour later, she was back in the harness. She was still there when Cadance had left.
It was that word, Cadance realized. That one little word which separated what went on in that club from what had happened to Silver Spoon.
“Stop.”
In the club, it, or some other, pre-chosen safety word, could be invoked at any time, and it was always respected.
For Silver Spoon and the foals of the Circle, the word meant nothing. At best, it would be ignored. At worst, they would be brutally punished for speaking it.
“When you told me about what you did at that club,” Silver said, “You sounded really happy. I thought you'd enjoyed it...but whenever you bring it up, you talk about it like it's something horrible.”
“I had no right to enjoy it,” Cadance said. “My husband-”
“Your husband loves you, and would want you to feel good, wouldn't he?” Silver said.
“It's not that simple!” Cadance replied.
“Why not?” Silver asked.
The question hung in the air for far longer than Cadance would have liked.
“I'm not trying to challenge you or anything,” Silver said. “I know monogamy is important for some ponies. I just don't think that way, I guess...”
“My husband and I made vows, Silver Spoon,” Cadance said. “We swore to be faithful to one another. No matter how much I enjoyed what I did that night, breaking a promise to someone you love is wrong.”
Silver turned and looked out the window. The sun was at its peak in the noontime sky.
“I know it is,” Silver said. “But even when a pony does something completely wrong, sometimes it can lead to good things. Like with Miss Rarity...”
“Silver, you shouldn't speak of her like that,” Cadance said. “Nothing good could ever come of what Rarity did to you.”
Silver smiled gently. “I don't think that's true,” she said. “I mean, I know what she did was terrible. But think of what it led to!
“If she hadn't taken me as her slave, I wouldn't have gone to the Gathering. And then I wouldn't have met Fancy, and ended up staying with him. And if that hadn't happened, I wouldn’t have been able to help Twilight liberate the Gallery. All those foals would still be down there. Celestia would still be keeping the Circle going. All of this happened because of the choices Miss Rarity made.”
“Silver, listen to what you're saying!" Cadance replied angrily. "How can you make excuses for that monster?”
Silver shook her head. “I'm not saying she did anything right. Nothing can excuse what she did to my friends.”
Nothing can excuse what she did to you, either, Cadance thought.
“And even Miss Rarity realizes that now,” Silver said.
"If she was here right now...well, I would leave the room as soon as I could. I don't think it's a good idea for me to have contact with her. Maybe someday, but not now. But before I left, I would say thank you. Not for any of the awful things she did to us. But just for finally realizing, at the end, that she could be a better pony.
“Because that's what I want to be too, Princess. Better,” Silver said. “And for all the pain she caused me, I think it may have been Miss Rarity who started me down that path. I mean, I'm pretty sure I would have gotten there anyway if I'd never met her. But this is how it happened. So is it so wrong for me to want to focus on the tiny bit of good that came from something so bad?”
“I just don't want you to lose sight of what's important, Silver,” Cadance said. “Thanking Rarity won't help you move past her.”
“I know,” Silver said. “But being hard on yourself won't help you move past what you did, either.”
“Silver...!”
“I'm just saying,” Silver said. “You shouldn't feel so down on what you did that night. The only reason I feel so comfortable talking to you right now is because I think I understand how you felt then. That feeling of wanting to belong to someone else, to let go of your worries and be in someone else's control...I've felt that way, too...
“And I've never had anyone to talk to about it, Princess. Not until you.”
“Oh! Well, I'm glad to hear that,” Cadance said, a little awkwardly. "To be honest, the other therapists did mention that you had trouble opening up to them...”
“Can we talk about that night some more?” Silver asked. “I mean, you don't have to go into detail or anything. But I really want to hear more about him.”
“Who?” Cadance said, a little uncomfortable.
“Charger,” Silver replied. “You never told me exactly what he made you do.”
I'm not sure why, but that's my first thought as Snowdrift embraces me, caressing my back as she kisses me deeply.
I've never been with a mare before. I had a couple of encounters with colts in high school, before Shining and I got together. Since then, it's just been the two of us. We were celibate until marriage, on his insistence. “I guess I'm just old fashioned,” he told me.
I just never realized quite how much.
With stallions, at least the ones I've been with, there's a strength, a firmness, to their bodies, even aside from the obvious place. It's wonderful having something so solid to hold onto when you're making love.
But love has nothing to do with what I'm doing tonight. And Snowdrift's body isn't firm at all. It's soft, graceful, but unyielding. I'm not sure if she genuinely wants me, or if she's just putting on a show for Charger. But her enthusiasm is infectious. She breaks the kiss for a moment, then slowly licks my neck. Did she know I was sensitive there?
If she didn't, she does now. My surprised moan is met with a smile from both her and Charger. A moment later, she's kissing me again.
Her lips are so soft, her breath so warm on my face, her tongue so active, eagerly seeking out mine...
She's beautiful, in a way I never realized another mare could be.
“Snowdrift.”
Charger's voice isn't particularly deep or loud, but he speaks with such confidence and authority that it cuts through everything I'm thinking. At its sound, Snowdrift stops moving, awaiting her orders.
“I want to see you taste her.”
“What?” I ask. “Isn't that what she's been doing?”
Snowdrift bursts out laughing, and I immediately realize how naive that sounded. Her laughter is a little louder than it needs to be. She's being cruel.
“Oh, honey,” she says. “That's almost cute.”
Without another word, she begins moving her face down toward my pussy, kissing my chest and belly as she goes.
When she reaches my hole, she stops, for just a moment, and looks up at me. I can tell from her expression what she's doing.
She's giving me a chance to tell her to stop.
I say nothing.
She grins, and brings her nose down to my hole. She takes a deep, audible sniff, then makes a long sigh.
I think she wants to make sure I hear both.
“Intoxicating,” she says. I blush.
Then she goes to work, and I let out a sharp cry. That same eager tongue that was in my mouth just a moment ago is now in my pussy, and it's heavenly.
It's not that I've never had someone down there before. Shining has made his attempts, but they were never like this. He always seemed to rush though it, licking mechanically at the same spot for a while until I told him he could stop. Snowdrift isn't like that. Her tongue travels the length of my lips, stopping periodically to lap up some of my arousal. Slowly, teasingly, it makes its way to my clit, which is starved for attention. Finally, she reaches it...and then ignores it, skipping past it entirely to play with my lips again.
“W...wait!” I say, without thinking.
“Hmmm?” Snowdrift replies, bringing her head up and looking right at me.
Her gaze is petrifying. I suddenly realize I have no idea what the etiquette is in this situation. Is it okay for the “sub” to make requests like this? Am I just going to embarrass myself by asking?
But now she's looking at me. I have to say something.
“My...my clit...” I stammer. “Please...”
Snowdrift gives me a cruel smile. Dammit. She did that on purpose.
“What was that, slut?” she asks.
“Could you...could you lick my clit, please?” I ask. I'm used to giving commands and having them fulfilled immediately. Now I'm making timid requests to a mare I barely know, with the full knowledge that she may refuse me. And somehow, it feels right.
Snowdrift giggles, then brings her face down again. I squirm as I feel her tongue enter my pussy. It feels wonderful, licking and caressing my insides. But I know she's not doing it to make me feel good. She's doing it to make a point. “I'll lick you where I damn well want to,” she's saying. “Your needs mean nothing to me.”
I thrash involuntarily as her tongue explores my hole. It's wonderful, but so very frustrating. I haven't had an orgasm in ages, and now my clit is telling me that all it needs is a little encouragement to send me over the edge. I silently hope that Snowdrift doesn't wait too long...
To my surprise, she stops completely. Then she slowly moves her head away from me, allowing a long, shiny strand of moisture to connect the two of us.
“How is she?” Charger asks.
“Positively dripping,” his slave replies. “I think she's ready for you, sir.”
He gets up off the couch, and walks over to her, with a kind smile on his face.
“Such a good girl,” he says as he strokes her cheek with his hoof. The smile she returns to him is so different from the ones she's been giving me. She seems almost giddy as he kisses her. And as he does, I realize that he's tasting me now, too.
They break the kiss, and both look at me. There are predatory grins on their faces.
“On your hooves,” Charger says. “And lift your tail.”
Snowdrift is stroking his cock as he speaks. I think I know what he wants to do to me.
“I, um...” I begin to stammer again. “I'm married...”
“So am I,” Charger says. “Well?”
I do as I'm told.
I look back as he positions himself behind me. I whimper – half out of fear, half out of anticipation – as I feel him rub his cock against my lips.
His member is throbbing. I don't think I've ever seen a stallion so hard for me before. Certainly not my husband. Charger is treating me like a piece of meat, yet I've never felt so desired in my life.
But I keep thinking of Shining Armor. The pony I love. The pony I made a vow to.
“Last chance to change your mind, Princess,” he says. “No hard feelings either way.”
He's being kind. He must sense my hesitation, and he doesn't want me to do anything I'll regret.
Snowdrift, on the other hoof, looks annoyed. She must not think I deserve this consideration. But she doesn't object. She's an obedient pet.
I think of my husband. Of how much he loves me. Of how hard he tries to please me even though he clearly doesn't desire my body.
But then I think of how hard it is to come home at night to a stallion who doesn't want you. How heavy the burden of leadership feels on my back, and the miraculous way it vanished as soon as I bowed before Charger.
There are so many conflicting emotions swirling inside me, and yet when I look back at Charger, all of them are overpowered by simple, primal lust.
He has the most beautiful cock I've ever seen. And suddenly the only thought in my mind is that I need it to fill me.
This time, I won't ask directly. That's not how this works. I'll be a proper slave.
“I'll do whatever you ask of me, sir,” I say. “Please use me.”
He grabs my mane and rudely pulls me toward him. I scream in pain, but only for a second. The scream transforms into a moan as I feel his member enter me.
“Ah! AhhhhhhhAHHHHH!” My cries cause several heads to turn in the crowded club. Suddenly I'm an attraction.
Charger kisses my neck as he begins thrusting inside me. “Looks like we have an audience,” he says. “How about we give them a show?”
For a moment, I consider asking them to go away. I'm nervous enough without ten pairs of eyes staring at me.
Then Charger thrusts deeper inside me, and my thoughts vanish. I cry out without thinking at all.
“Oh yes! Yes, sir, I'll do whatever you want! Just please don't stop!”
Some of the other ponies are touching themselves or each other as they watch me. I should feel embarrassed. Instead I'm in a state of rapture. The mares are beautiful, and so openly wanton. The stallions are gorgeous, their wonderful members so thick and hard. I squeal, and one of the stallions watching me comes. A mare next to him notices the first spurt and puts her mouth on his cock before he can finish his next two. I don't think they know each other. She swallows, smiles, and gives him a kiss on the cheek. The stallion blushes and walks away from the crowd, while the mare remains.
I can't see what Snowdrift is doing. I assume she's switched places with her master and is now watching us from the couch. I don't care what she's doing. All I know is, I'm being fucked harder than I ever thought possible, and everything about it feels right.
“You said you were married,” Charger whispers to me. “If you husband could see you now, what would he say? Does he like to go to places like this?”
“N...no...” I say, so completely caught up that at the mention of Shining, I feel nothing. “He hates these places. If he could see me, he'd call me a filthy slut.”
“Would he be right?” Charger says as he thrusts particularly hard, sending shockwaves through my body. “And don't answer to me. Tell the crowd.”
“Yes!” I shout without a single thought. “Yes, I'm a filthy little slut who's being fucked by a stallion she's only known for ten minutes! I'm your whore, and I don't want to be anything else!”
There are times when I amaze myself with what I'm capable of. This is one of them.
“That's what I like to hear!” Charger says. “Snowdrift, give the slut her reward!”
That's when I feel it. The heavenly sensation of a tongue on my clit. It's her. Snowdrift wasn't on the couch, she was behind me, right under my cunt, watching it get fucked by her master's beautiful member. And now she's licking my dangling clit, fulfilling my request from earlier at the best possible time.
It's all too much. Being filled by this magnificent stallion, being licked in my most sensitive spot by his pet, and above all the feeling of completely letting go, of abandoning all pretense of decency and giving in to my lusts.
When my orgasm hits me, I don't just cry out. I practically scream.
It's so powerful, and lasts so long. And those two know just how to make it last, licking and thrusting with just the right timing to bring me back over the edge just as I think it's about to subside. I can't even speak anymore. My knees buckle and I fall to the ground. Nothing exists in my world but pleasure.
When my orgasm finally subsides, I feel Charger fucking me with tremendous speed, even as I lie on the ground. He's about to come, and I don't think he has any intention of pulling out.
I should stop him. I should tell him that I didn't cast a birth control spell tonight, as some sort of foolish incentive to prevent myself from going too far here. I should say something, but I don't.
I want him to do whatever he wants to me. If that means being his cumdump, then I'll happily take the role.
He moans loudly as I feel his cock twitch inside me. Then, a second later, the warm, wonderful feeling of seed filling my insides.
“Thank you sir,” I say softly as he pulls out. “Thank you for using me.”
I'm lying on the floor, completely spent, feeling his warm seed drip out of me. I'm so exhausted I can barely move, yet I feel as though I'm flying.
I feel a pair of forelegs wrap themselves gently around me. It's Snowdrift, who kisses my neck as she whispers into my ear.
“Oh, honey, you should have heard yourself. I've never seen a mare let go like that. I'm almost jealous. My first time with him wasn't nearly that good,” she says. “Just for that, I'm going to take you under my wing. I've been looking for someone to be my plaything. How about it? I'll even let you play with Charger now and then, if he gives me permission, of course.”
“So I'd be...what? His pet's pet?” I ask dreamily.
“Something like that,” she says. “He's purely dominant, but I like to switch. But you, you're not one to give orders, are you? I can tell.”
I suppress the urge to laugh. She isn't wrong, though. In my daily life, I may give orders all the time, but here, with these two, I wouldn't dream of it.
“I'll...think about it,” I say. “But I really have enjoyed my time with the two of you.”
“Awww, you're not leaving already, are you?” Snowdrift asks. “I was hoping we could cuddle a bit, and maybe you could have your first taste of my pussy...”
I blush hard. “Oh! Um, but I've never...I mean, I don't think I'd be any good...I have no idea how to even...”
“Oh my sun, you're so innocent!” Snowdrift says. “Ohhh, I have got so much to teach you...pity this place will be closing soon.”
I snap out of my dreamlike state. In my rapture, I completely forgotten about the concept of time.
“An hour?” I say. “Wait, wait, what time is it?”
Charger, who is sitting on the floor close to us, indicates a clock on the wall. “Ten past four,” he says. “That still leaves you almost an hour, Snowy. There's lots you can teach her in-”
I wriggle out of Snowdrift's grasp and sit bolt upright. “No no no, I should have left by now!” I shout. “The rain will stop in twenty minutes!”
“All the more reason to stay here, then,” Snowdrift says. “What's the rush, Princess?”
I gasp. Suddenly I feel heavy again. The reality of what the title of Princess means comes crashing down on top of me.
“Charger!” I say. “When you called me Princess...”
“Our lives outside this place stay at the door,” he says. “Most of us don't even use our real names here. I called you that because you looked lost, and I didn't want you to have a chance to tell me your real name.”
“That's the only reason?” I ask.
“The only reason,” he echoes.
“Okay,” I say, not sure if I believe him. “Um, it's been wonderful spending time with both of you, but I really need to run...” I begin to head for the exit.
“Wait!” Snowdrift says, running after me. “You'll come back, won't you?”
“I don't know,” I say. “Good night.”
Before she can say another word, I'm out the door.
It's pouring outside, even harder than before. Good. That will make it even less likely for anyone to see me.
I suppose I could have waited until the rain stopped. The likelihood of anyone noticing me at five in the morning is extremely unlikely, especially through the illusion spell. Right now, I don't even look like Princess Cadance. I look like any other mare.
But that's just it. I'm not any other mare. I never will be. I'm a princess, one of the last remaining pillars of a kingdom that's still reeling from the loss of its ageless ruler. If anyone were to ever find out what I did here tonight...the scandal...the disgrace...
And with that thought, I'm paralyzed. I know I need to run home, but I just can't.
I stand there, looking down at the rain, watching it make ripples in the puddles at my hooves. My reflection in the water is too distorted to look like much of anyone, and even if it weren't, it wouldn't look like me.
And I realize that even now, standing still in the rain, no one is around to see me. The chances of anyone noticing a single cloaked mare in a rainstorm, let alone recognizing her through a spell, are incredibly slim. I realize that I'm going to get away with this.
So now I can return home. I can dry off. I can lay down next to my sleeping, oblivious husband. My wonderful, brave and kind Shining Armor.
And I can live with the knowledge that I broke my promise to him.
“Oh dear Luna...” I say to myself. “What have I done?”
*******
“Did you make it home in time?” Silver Spoon asked, as Cadance finished her story. Though she would never admit it to her aloud, Silver was a bit disappointed that Cadance hadn't gone into any sort of detail about her encounter with the two ponies at the club, saying only, “the three of us spent some time together.”
Actually...Silver thought to herself after a moment's reflection. Why would I expect her to tell me? Even if I wasn't a foal, that's not the sort of thing you talk about with other ponies. Not unless you're someone like Miss Rarity. Or someone like me.
“I've got a long way to go...” Silver said quietly.
“We both do,” Cadance said. “But I hope you'll allow me to continue helping you get there, Silver. I hope you can see now that you really can trust me.”
Silver nodded. “I think I do...” she said. “But are things going to be okay with you and your husband?”
“I'm not sure..” Cadance said. “I still haven't told him.”
“Well, I hope you both work things out,” Silver said. “Listen, don't take this the wrong way, but can we end the session here? I know we have a half hour left, but I need to catch the early train back home...”
“Alright, Silver,” Cadance said. “But I hope you'll come back and see me next weekend.”
“I'll be here,” Silver said. “Thanks, Cadance. There's just something really important happening in Ponyville that I don't want to miss.”
With that, she hopped off the couch and walked toward the door.
“I'll see you on Friday,” Silver said.
“Silver!” Cadance said as the filly began to walk out the door.
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for listening,” Cadance said. “And...for not telling anyone.”
Silver Spoon giggled. “Oh, Princess, I'm the last pony who would ever hold something like that against someone. I promise, your secret is safe with me. The only way anyone else will ever know is if you tell them.”
With that, Silver smiled, and walked out of the room.
But as the door shut behind her, her words hung in Cadance's mind.
“The only way anyone else will know is if you tell them.”
“He has a right to know,” she said.
She stood up.
*******
Shining Armor had heard the term “asexual” before. He just never thought it applied to him.
Wanting to make love to a beautiful mare was just a natural part of being a colt. That's what he had always been told. The only way he couldn't want that was if he preferred other colts instead, and there was nothing wrong with that, either. Sooner or later, he'd just know which one he wanted. “Every colt finds out in his own way,” he was told.
So he waited. He waited for that spark of physical attraction, that powerful desire his friends spoke of. It never came.
But his emotions were something different entirely, and from the moment he had seen her, Shining Armor knew he was meant to love Cadance. There had never been a doubt in his mind about her. With all his heart, with everything he was, he knew he wanted to be with that filly.
After the two of them began going out, he found himself dreaming of marrying her. Of traveling to far-off lands together. Of raising a family. Of sleeping in each others' embrace. Of growing old side by side.
He never thought about having sex with her.
As time passed, he began to worry. His usual excuse to himself –oh, I'm just a late bloomer-- no longer seemed sufficient.
It's probably because we haven't been going out that long, he told himself. Soon enough, I'll want her that way.
But he didn't.
It's probably because she's taking things slow with sex. Once she starts sending signals, I'll want her that way.
But he didn't.
It's probably because we haven't had a romantic dinner yet.
It's probably because we aren't engaged yet.
It's probably because we aren't married yet.
Finally, on their wedding night, they made love for the first time. Shining Armor managed an erection. He did what he thought was expected of him. His wife seemed pleased.
And pleasing her made him happy. The act itself held no enjoyment for him. But the smile she gave him afterward made it all worthwhile.
He didn't want to disappoint her. He didn't want that smile to go away.
So he said nothing. He played his part. He was the good husband, the caring stallion who makes love to his wife and keeps her satisfied.
He stopped worrying about when he himself would begin enjoying sex. It didn't matter. Because she was happy.
As far as he could tell.
Now his wife, with tears in her eyes, sits before him in their home, and tells him what she did. How she sneaked away behind his back. How she went to one of those disturbing clubs. How she debased herself in front of scores of onlookers.
She says something about how it's been long enough since then that she knows she can't be pregnant, and that she hasn't been back to the club. She says that what she did was stupid and selfish. She says that she loves Shining more than anyone but she just couldn't bear the strain of not having anyone in her life who desired her.
She speaks about how much she's hated herself over the last few weeks, and how it was Silver Spoon, the abused filly who she had been counseling, who finally gave her the push she needed to tell him.
Briefly, Shining entertains the notion that this is some sort of trick. That it's the Changeling queen, taking Cadance's form again.
But that doesn't make any sense. Why would a love parasite be trying to make him love his wife less?
Shining trembles as he realizes that it's something far worse than that.
This is his wife. The mare he's loved since high school. The mare he wants to spend his life with.
The mare who just confessed to breaking their marriage vows and sleeping with two strangers.
“I'm so sorry...” Cadance says. “I was just under so much pressure, and I wasn't thinking clearly, and I just needed-”
“Get out,” Shining says. His voice is eerily calm and quiet.
“Shining?”
“Get out of our home,” he says. “Go to the palace. Do some late work. I don't care. Just get away from me.”
She knows there's nothing more she can say. There are no words that can fix this.
She turns around and walks out the door.
The sun is still low in the sky. It's a cloudy day.
She could go to the palace. There is paperwork to attend to. It would save her time tomorrow if she does it now. It would get her mind off her husband.
But that would mean being seen by other ponies. And right now, that's the last thing she wants.
So she flies straight up into the clouds, finds a particularly secluded one, and sits down.
Up here, no one can see her cry.
It's almost midnight when she finally returns home. She finds her husband in the parlor, staring at a framed picture. It's from their wedding day. He hears her come in, but doesn't turn his head.
“You're back,” he says softly.
“If you don't want me here, I can stay in my chamber at the palace tonight,” she says. “I just...wanted to see you one more time...”
Shining Armor turns away from the picture.
“And now you have,” he says.
“Shining, I'm sorry!” Cadance cries. “I know I let you down, I know nothing can excuse that, but please-”
“DON'T YOU DARE!” Shining shouts, louder than he's ever spoken to her. She takes a step back.
“Don't you dare speak to me like that,” he says, lowering his head. Tears begin to fall from his eyes. “I'm the one who let you down.”
“W...what do you...”
“Every time I look at you...” he says, speaking with considerable difficulty. “I see the most beautiful pony in the world. I see a mare whose kindness, compassion and courage I can't ever hope to match. I see my best friend, my companion, my soulmate...
“But I never see someone I want to have sex with. I want to, I want to so badly, but I just...it's just not there...”
He begins to sob. Cadance takes a tentative step toward him.
“What's wrong with me?” he says. “What kind of stallion doesn't even want to make love to his wife?”
Cadance runs toward her husband, embracing him.
“There is nothing wrong with you,” she says. “You're the most wonderful pony I've ever known. I don't deserve someone like you. Not after what I did...”
“Don't say that...” he says. “All this time...I hid this from you...”
“I think we've both been keeping our fair share of secrets,” Cadance says. “Is it okay if we talk tonight? Put everything out in the open?”
Shining nods, and holds his wife close to him. For the moment, he says nothing. Neither does she.
It will be a long night.
*******
Silver Spoon had made it just in time.
She was the first pony off the train when it arrived in Ponyville. She had run at full gallop from there, and did not stop until she reached her destination.
“It looks so different,” she said.
The mannequins were still there, though a fine layer of dust now covered each of them, soiling their immaculately white coloration. She would hate to see them like this, Silver thought.
Carousel Boutique had been closed for months now, ever since Rarity had been arrested for Silver's murder. Rarity had never actually owned the building, and after the truth about her was revealed, the landlord found it impossible to attract new tenants. No one wanted to live in a place where so many foals had suffered.
The doors and windows were boarded up now. The place was still and silent. But sneaking in was simple enough for a foal. The boards on the front door could be easily squeezed through.
As she made her way to the kitchen, Silver noticed a bowl of fruit which was still on the table. Rarity had always insisted on fresh fruit, often giving apples or pears which had developed bruises to Silver Spoon, as one would give food no one wanted to a dog.
The fruit in the bowl was brown and rotten now. A swarm of flies buzzed around it.
The chairs were missing, probably stolen. So was much of the silverware.
Silver began to ascend the stairs leading to Sweetie Belle and Rarity's rooms.
The walls here looked like they had been slashed by someone playing with a blade.
A broken picture-frame hung on the wall. Silver couldn't remember what picture had been hung in it.
At the top of the stairs were two rooms, one belonging to a foal, the other to her older sister.
She opened the door to Sweetie's first.
It was empty, but beautifully neat. Sweetie had been allowed back in to take her personal affects, but her room at Twilight's house was smaller, so she had donated many of her toys to the Home For Abused Foals.
No one had vandalized Sweetie Belle's room. No one had stolen from it.
But there was a small slip of paper taped to the doorway. Silver didn't notice it until she left the room, respectfully shutting the door as she did.
The slip bore a simple, hoofwritten message:
WE COULD HAVE REALIZED WHAT WAS HAPPENING TO YOU. WE COULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING.
IF ONLY WE'D CARED ENOUGH TO PAY ATTENTION.
WE'RE SORRY.
Sweetie Belle had told her she had been here that morning. She would have seen the note. If she wanted it, she would have taken it.
Silver Spoon left it where it was.
All that remained was Rarity's room.
Silver felt strange opening the door without asking for permission. Even after all this time, doing so was her first instinct.
The door opened with a loud creek. Silver gasped.
This was the room where her life had changed. The place she had submitted herself completely to Miss Rarity's will. This was the place where she had lost her virginity. The place where she had spent countless hours, in pain and ecstasy, serving the wishes of her beloved Miss Rarity.
And the room had always been lovely. No matter how much suffering took place here, no matter how many foals cried out in pain and were violated within these walls, Rarity always took care to keep the room looking immaculate. It was a reflection of how she saw herself. Everything in the room was beautiful.
“Is it still a reflection?” Silver wondered aloud.
The room had been completely trashed by vandals. Rarity's bed, with its fine silk sheets and antique carved wooden frame, looked like it had been kicked in half, and its sheets torn apart. Her mirror was shattered. Her jewelry box had been looted. Most of her outfits – creations which she had devoted countless hours to – were ripped to shreds. The rest seemed to have been stolen.
Then there was the graffiti.
There were messages written all over the walls, in different colors and different hoofwriting. It was difficult for Silver to read them:
I STILL REMEMBER WHAT YOU DID TO ME
IF YOU EVER COME BACK I'LL KILL YOU
MONSTER
YOU ONLY WANT TO LOOK PRETTY BECAUSE YOU HAVE SUCH AN UGLY SOUL
MY SISTER STILL CRIES AT NIGHT
I'LL HATE YOU FOREVER
“Stop it,” Silver said. “Don't talk about her like-”
She shuddered as she realized what she was doing.
Silver Spoon closed her eyes and walked out of the room.
Without another word, she went down the stairs. She'd gone down those stairs a thousand times before.
With her eyes closed, she could just barely hear the voices. If she descended the stairs during the day, she would always be able to hear Rarity's muffled voice as she did business with her customers in the boutique. It always amazed her, the way she could put on such a practiced, friendly persona for the townsfolk, who never suspected one thin wall was all that separated them from a perverse little foal who Rarity abused on a nightly basis.
As she walked into the kitchen, she remembered how the voices would always grow louder. Now she'd be able to make out exactly what Rarity and her customers were saying.
Sometimes she would sit there, listening to Rarity from afar, admiring her and waiting for the workday to end so she could return to her.
Silver stood in the ruined kitchen. She opened her eyes and looked up at the staircase.
She could just make out the still-open door to Rarity's room at the top of the stairs.
“You're right to hate her,” she said. “I can't ever feel the way you do about her. And I don't expect you to ever forgive her. You're not wrong to feel the way you do.
“But for what it's worth, I'm sorry. I'm sorry she did this to you. And I'm sorry I didn't stop her when I had the chance.”
She turned away from the door.
Silver Spoon closed her eyes again. She walked out of the kitchen and into the boutique. She was never allowed to do so when she had lived there. She imagined Rarity yelling at her for her disobedience. She kept walking until she reached the front door.
“I'm going out now, Miss Rarity,” she said. “And I don't think I'll be coming back.”
Silver Spoon reared up and kicked the flimsy door, and its boards, to splinters. Daylight flooded the ruined boutique as she made her way outside.
“Hey! HEY KID!”
A town guard ran up to Silver as she exited the building.
“Kid, are you nuts? You're not allowed in there! It's dangerous!”
“I'm sorry,” Silver said.
“This building is being demolished in half an hour! If you were still in there then, you could have been killed!”
“I know it is. I just...left something in there,” Silver said.
“Well, did you find it?” the guard asked.
“Yes,” Silver Spoon said. “But I'm leaving it behind.”
Silver then turned away from the guard, and began walking toward a nearby hill.
There, waiting for her, she could make out the figures of Diamond Tiara, Pipsqueak, Twist, and Sweetie Belle. Twist was already jumping up and down and waving in Silver's direction.
“Are you sure you want to see them tear it down?” Silver had asked Sweetie when she had told her of the impending demolition.
“I don't want to,” Sweetie had said. “But I think I need to.”
“I think I understand,” Silver had said. “I think both of us probably need to.”
“The others are all coming, too; they've been waiting for this for a while. They promised not to say anything too mean about sis in front of me, not that I'd blame them if they did...but I really need you to come to this, too, Silver.”
“Why me?”
“Because I know I'm going to cry,” Sweetie said. “And I don't think anyone but you will really understand why.”
Sweetie Belle smiled warmly as Silver galloped toward her friends.
They sat together and chatted over trivialities, ignoring the most obvious topic until it could no longer be ignored.
Until Carousel Boutique fell to the ground.
To their mutual surprise, Sweetie Belle did not cry. But Silver Spoon did.
Sweetie held her hoof as she sobbed quietly, while the other foals walked a few hooves away to give them some space.
“It's okay,” Sweetie said. “Let it out. Cry for her one last time.”
Silver shook her head. “I'm not crying for her,” she said. “I'm crying for us.”
The boutique was rubble now. Many of the ponies watching the spectacle were cheering.
“Wherever you are,” Silver whispered. “I hope you find peace.
“Goodbye.”
*******
“I think it was more than just attraction, if that makes sense. It was almost like being pushed by the wind. You can walk against it, but it's so much easier to let it push you along. If I really wanted to, I could have fought it, but...I didn't want to. I'd made my choice. I wanted to belong to her.
“I think it's because I knew that if I let her in, Miss Rarity wouldn't hold anything back from me. Not like those society ponies, with their practiced, fake little manners, bowing and scraping to ponies who they secretly hated. In all the ways that really counted, Rarity was totally honest with me. She never pretended that she wasn't a monster, never tried to make me think she didn't love making me suffer. With her, I didn't have to pretend. Manners, social standing, none of that meant anything. My place was never in doubt. I needed her to hurt me. And she needed someone to hurt.
“No other pony had ever been so honest with me before. And that made all the difference. Being her toy didn't just feel good. It felt real.”
Silver Spoon paused for a moment, to brush a stray strand of hair out of her eye.
“What you said before, about being pushed by the wind...it's easier to just let yourself be pushed along, isn't it?” Cadance said. “When you see something you had desired for so long, which you might not have even realized you wanted so badly...”
“Yeah,” Silver said. “And that's what makes it so hard to resist, I think. You're so floored by the realization that you want this, that you don't stop and think of the consequences...”
“...and even if you do, they seem so small compared to how badly you want it. How much you long for someone to control you.” Cadance said.
Silver Spoon smiled. “I knew you'd understand,” she said.
“But that's why you have to be careful, Silver,” Cadance said. “You have to recognize when you're in that state of overpowering desire. You have to force yourself to stop, and really think about what you're doing, and ask yourself if it's the right thing. You've got to be able to walk against the wind.”
“I know,” Silver said. “I guess for a while, I didn't think it was worth the effort. I didn't think I was worth the effort...”
“And now?”
Silver's smile grew wider as she spoke. “Now I think I know better,” she said. “I mean, I still think about her sometimes. Sometimes I even want her back. But it's happening less and less these days.”
“Oh, before I forget...” Cadance said. “Luna made me a checklist, so I have to ask...are you still, um...”
Cadance blushed, and Silver Spoon giggled in response. Three months of sessions, and Cadance still couldn't bring herself to ask that question out loud. Every time she thought of it, it brought back memories of the first time she and Silver Spoon had met. The two of them could laugh about it now, but Cadance still found the whole subject slightly uncomfortable.
“Yes, I still touch myself. A lot. I know Luna thinks I shouldn't be doing that as much...”
“She doesn't think you should be doing it at all,” Cadance said. “It's not something 'proper foals' do, she says.”
“Well, tell her I'm not a proper foal, then,” Silver said with a huff. “I need an outlet, Cadance. I can't go back to just pretending I don't have a sex drive.”
“I know,” said the Princess. “Why don't I just tell Luna that I'm 'working with you' on it.”
“I hardly think about Rarity anymore when I touch myself,” Silver said. “That's a good sign, right? Nowadays I mostly think about that club of yours...”
“I, um...” Cadance looked away. “Well, if that's what, um, I mean...”
“I don't think about you, silly.” Silver said. “I think about going there myself. When I'm old enough, I mean. I want to visit that club so badly, Princess. So many ponies, all pleasuring each other so openly. I'll have a chance to be someone's servant again, but this time, it'll be someone who respects me. Someone who cares about me and knows how to appreciate a good slave. And in return, I'll tend to their every whim, no matter how filthy or-”
“Silver,” Cadance said, more than a bit flustered. “I get your point.”
“Sorry, sorry!” Silver said, blushing. “There's just no one else who I can talk to about these sorts of desires, you know? You're the only pony I know who understands that sort of feeling. I'm so glad you told me about the time you went to that place.”
“Silver, I first told you that story three months ago. You don't need to keep thanking me. We've come a long way since then...”
“I know,” Silver said. “But it really did make a world of difference. I felt like there was finally someone in my life who understood some of the things I had been feeling...”
“But what about your friends? Surely you could have talked to Sweetie or Diamond or one of the others about this...”
Silver shook her head. “They've been a huge help, don't get me wrong. But there was always a big difference between them and I. They were all forced to be a part of this. I wasn't. I chose to belong to Rarity. And on some level, that's always going to set me apart from them.”
“Silver...”
“No, listen. For a long time I thought that meant I was beyond help. That I was broken in a way they weren't. But when you told me about what you did at that club...”
Silver smiled as she looked Cadance right in the eyes. “The thing is, you're not broken. You're kind and smart and you deal with more stress in one day that I do in a year. Well, most years. Maybe not this past one.
“But the point is, you wanted the same things I did: submission, pain, control. You wanted them, but you weren't broken. And if you were okay, then maybe one day I could be okay, too. That was when I realized that just because I'd been damaged, that didn't mean I was a lost cause.”
“That's funny,” Cadance said. “When I first began talking to you, I kind of thought I might be a lost cause myself.”
“I remember,” Silver said. “You were so hung up on what you did at that club. You and Charger and...Snowbank?”
“Snowdrift,” Cadance said. “My mistress is named Snowdrift.”
“Your...mistress? Wait, you mean you and her-”
"I've been meaning to tell you," Cadance said. "But our recent sessions have been about different subject matter, and I didn't want to force it into the conversation.
“What I did to my husband was terrible,” Cadance said. “It took weeks before he could really trust me again. Frankly, I'm surprised it wasn't longer.
“But what bothered him wasn't that I had sex with someone else. It's that I lied to him, that I went behind his back. Shining Armor just...doesn't enjoy sex. At all. I don't think that's ever going to change, and I don't think it should. Now that he understands what asexuality is, he's happy being the way he is. He just hated that it was making me unhappy.”
Silver took a moment to ponder the utterly alien concept of being without a sex drive. She quickly decided that she did not like to think about it.
“So a couple of weeks ago, we reached an understanding. He and I are a celibate couple now. As attractive as I find him, I'm not going to ask him to do something he doesn't enjoy. And now I don't have to lie to him anymore.”
“Wait, you mean he's okay with you fooling around at that club?”
“He doesn't like to hear about it, but he likes knowing that I'm happy and satisfied,” Cadance said. “And frankly, I think he likes having the alone time on Saturday nights.”
“Oh, that's great!” Silver Spoon said. “Are you going tonight? Do you have plans with anyone? Can you tell me all about it tomorrow?”
“Yes, yes,” Cadance replied. “And no. You're still a foal, Silver. If anything, I've already told you, too much.”
“I know,” Silver said, giggling. “But can you blame me for trying?”
“Sure I can, but it'll have to wait,” Cadance said playfully. “It's five o'clock. Our session's done for the day. For tomorrow, I'd like to talk a bit more about your relationship with your parents, okay? I know that's a hard topic for you, but I think it's important we explore it.”
“Alright,” Silver said. “Same time tomorrow, then?”
“You bet!” Cadance replied. “Have a great evening, Silver Spoon.”
*******
It's not raining tonight.
There's not a cloud in the sky as I run down the Canterlot streets toward the unmarked building.
I've gotten better at the illusion spell. It can hold for a full twelve hours now, which is nice, since I occasionally spend the night at Snowdrift's apartment before heading home.
Even better, I've refined the spell to the point where it now carries a subtle misdirection charm. Simply put, if I don't want a pony to notice me, they don't.
At the club, I want everyone to notice me. I want them all to see how utterly free I am. Let them see Snowdrift and Charger's new pet and her complete devotion to her owners. Let them all wish I was theirs.
I run down the stairs, step through the hidden door, and enter the club.
Snowdrift is waiting for me. She's not alone.
Three gorgeous stallions flank her on either side. They grin as I walk into the room.
“Hello, Princess,” she says. “Charger is going to be late tonight, and I have to step out for a little while. These three are friends of mine. I want you to treat them like you would treat me. Is that understood?”
It's then that I notice that she had been casually stroking one of their cocks as she spoke to me. The stallions are all fully erect. There are hungry looks in their eyes.
Snowdrift walks out of the club, and I bow before my three new masters.
I am Cadance.
When the sun shines, I carry the burdens of all of Equestria. These stallions, like all ponies, are my subjects, and it is my burden to protect them, and this entire land, from ever coming to harm. I carry that weight gladly, for the good of all.
But at night, that weight is lifted. I trade my crown for a collar. And they carry my burdens for me, as I become their humble and willing slave.
“You can call me Princess,” I say to the stallions. “Tonight, I belong to you.”
