> Into That Darkness Peering
>  by Cynewulf
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> I. In Which Certain Desires Are Revealed
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------








I. In Which Certain Desires Are Revealed




From the Journals of Scarlet Letter:

"There comes a point in every detective's career where she'll discover something she can't explain, and won't try to. For me, that's the feeling I get when I see her. I don't know why my heart stops beating. I don't know why my mind goes fuzzy. I don't know why I want her to take me, pull me aside, and take charge of every bit of me she can find.

I just know that I'm happy she wants the same thing."

Scrawled in the margins, in the hoof-writing of Perique Blend:

"D'awwwwww~" [Added to this are several drawings of hearts and a small cartoonish depiction of a batpony with noticeably large wingspan and imposing fangs helping a wingless pony with a deer-ranger hat to fly.]








The batponies in their cavernous Old Colony had a saying that, when translated into a more modern dialect, went: Everything on earth has its proper place. Every note had a place in the song, every pony had her place in the fabric of things. Not that they were pulled by fate so much as they must make their place! But it was the idea of harmony through order that carried across the years.


Thus, Perique Blend understood the utility of carefully regimented sloth. Sloth was, after all, a part of everything and so it too had its proper place. Laziness when cultivated with as keen an attentive eye as she gave the fields she sourced from blossomed into peace. At least, that’s what she told herself at some point every Sunday, because while Tuesdays were for dates, Sundays were for doing absolutely nothing but having tea, reading, and figuring out how long a pony can sleep in one day.


Two ponies lay intertwined on Scarlet Letter’s comfortable bed in a nest of covers. The morning sunlight creeping in through the half-closed blinds found them still, but not dozing as they usually would be. Between Scarlet’s half-read book and the tiniest lingering hint of sweet burley tobacco that clung to Perique’s mane, between the valleys of soft covers and the warm singularity that finding a partner to curl around in the morning brings, between all of these things, a conversation was unfolding.


Scarlet Letter trailed off, letting her winding, rambling explanation die an ignoble death. “I… I mean, it’s not like we have to try this or anything,” she said for perhaps the fourth time in as many minutes. “I just… I think it’s something we might both enjoy. If you want to.”


A hoof reached up and idly pushed a bit of Scarlet’s mane out of the way. There wasn’t an answer right away. Sometimes there wasn’t. Scarlet had begun learning that sometimes in person that her lover was not quick to words. Sometimes thought took over and she ruminated.


At first, this had bothered her. It is easy to think the worst when after some long speech is done, the only answer coming is a long pause.


Scarlet Letter, who had solved cases others had called impossible, had of course brought her mind to bear upon the problem of the Awkward Perique Pause and discovered the only solution. The solution mostly involved burying her face in the warm batpony chest fuzz of the only other pony present in her bed and whining in a high-pitched voice until she spurred the ruminating thoughts out of from behind those delightful little fangs. Which she totally wasn’t focused on in general after her admission.


The larger batpony chuckled and enveloped her earth pony lover in a cocoon of leathery wings and nibbled her ear, turning her plaintive whines of embarrassment into something rather different.


“Thy protestations are premature, little one,” she said.


Scarlet squirmed as much as one can squirm when so trapped. “Yes… but… I don’t know, you didn’t say anything and argh.”


More chuckles and more light nibbles. “I already knew that you enjoyed my fangs, small as they are.”


“Seem pretty big to me.”


“That is because you have a grand total of zero, little one.”


“And… that’s fair.”


Perique fussed over her mane and continued. “I already knew that. I had suspected that this further admission that you’ve made might be lurking somewhere ‘neath the surface, but of course ‘twouldn’t do to pry. Yet, cry pardon, reading thee is not as difficult a task as thou doth assume.”


Scarlet Letter pouted. “I’ll have you know I am very complicated.”


“Oh, extremely.”


Scarlet continued to pout, not that it did her much good.


Things settled, then. The morning’s brash sunbeams continued to infiltrate through the blinds and the lazy warmth of the perfect Sunday was unperturbed, even when at last Perique spoke. Scarlet’s ears perked quickly, a bit surprised. She had assumed her girlfriend would be asleep, for it seemed that during the daylight hours any period of inactivity was an invitation to nap.


“Bloodplay,” Perique purred. There was an odd undertone in her voice, not quite hesitation but something else. “It’s… it’s certainly a fascinating idea.”


Scarlet’s ears were trained. The smallest changes to her lover’s mood could be spotted through tells in her speech, or the way she shifted or was still, or the angles of her splayed ears. Perique, in so many situations, was an open book. Sometimes it was strange to realize that not everypony could read her like Scarlet could. It seemed obvious.


She detected nothing worth worrying about, and so snuggled close again to listen.


“We have talked at length about lore before, though it was rather a long time ago.”


Scarlet smiled into the chest floof which she was not-so-secretly delighted with. “Yes, we have. Everytime that you drink more than a few sips, we inevitably talk about it.”


Perique paused, coughed, and shifted slightly. “Aye. Be that as it may, I’m sure at least… some of it was coherent, yes? About how we came from the West? How the Mother of Nights found us there?”


“Mhm! You told me that when I wanted to know why you cringed when I..." Scarlet searched for the phrase for a moment, then lighted on it. "Um, 'profaned the Night-Mother', I think was how you phrased it? I mean I kinda thought I was just asking Princess Luna to d- to cast her ire upon things. At the time, I mean." She let out a nervous giggle.


“And I recall having not been as kind as I would have wished to be, at the time.” Perique kissed her forehead and then continued. “Part of that history involves vampirism. Did I ever mention that?”


Scarlet blinked. "What.”


“Yes, little one. Before we were delivered, long before Ulthar, all of us--thestral, batpony, leatherwings, whatever we were called--lived in one place. Sarnath; dost thou remember it? Good, I’m glad you do. Hekata our mother had left us when we were created, and through no ill will on her part we were bereft. Then He came.” She frowned. “The Father. He changed us, or at least some of us. But all of us live in his shadow.”


Scarlet blinked. She absorbed this.


“Sorry, but… could I get that again? Metaphor is nice, and you know I like it, but…”


“Well, in baser terms,” Perique said evenly, “he showed up and re-arranged our whole society to serve him personally. The Father was his name, as far as we knew. He chose dozens of us to turn into beings like himself, and they became the cornerstones of a vampiric nobility, and under their watchful eyes, an army of slaves built the City of Sarnath to what it is today.”


A short silence followed.


“I have a feeling, just a feeling, that I’ve stumbled on something a bit, uh, culturally sensitive,” Scarlet managed with a cringe. “Is this like the profaning thing?”


“Not quite. Did I seem overly serious? Forgive me.”


“Oh! No, it’s fine! But…”


“I just… found it curious. Grim as it was, it is not something we can really escape.” Perique hummed one of the strange lilting tunes that Scarlet was always forgetting to ask her about, and fished for something on her night stand. “Perhaps I will look to the past for some ideas, one way or another. I will think on it. But for now…”


With an eager, fanged smile she produced a mane brush and then Scarlet Letter quite forgot about the entire conversation in what followed.








“So that’s it, then,” Perique finished.


Her friend Fleeting Flame nodded thoughtfully and looked down at the drink he had been nursing for some time. He was a handsome stallion, not far from her size, piebald and sporting an impressive, if outdated outfit. A few too many ruffles, but it suited him somehow. It was funny, now, to have assimilated to day pony culture to the point that an individual who went about mostly clothed was an oddity to her. In the Old Colony few treated clothing the way that Equestrians did, preferring to be covered when outside their homes.



They’d met for dinner in one of Ponyville’s two diners that were more or less identical. Not that she would have ever in her life told either proprietor that. She feared few things. The wrath of a Ponyville restrauntier was one of those things.


“It’s intriguing, certainly,” he replied. “And I have first hand experience in your interest in bloodplay of at least one variety.” He flashed a fanged smile at her, and she chuckled.


“I do. I’m less familiar with other methods, to be honest. I mentioned that at some point, didn’t I?”


“You did.”


“I’ve been putting together the bits of a plan. I’ve been absolutely crushed under deadlines for the next Scrivener book, and with the edits going slower than I would like…” she shook her head. “I don’t wish to think on it a moment more than absolutely necessary. But I can see the end of it all coming up.”


“Light at the end of the tunnel?”


Perique smiled and lazily drained her own drink. “Only a pony who wasn’t born in caves thinks that light at the end of a tunnel is a good thing. Day ponies.”


“And you’re looking forward to chance to put your creative energies into something a bit less high stakes,” continued Flame. “Something to start off a sabbatical. It sounds like a wonderful time, to be sure.”


She smiled at him and sighed. “It will be. By the Moon, I am weary to the bone, Flame. The prospect of something that doesn’t involve even a moment of writing or editing or talking to ponies about these things sounds divine. I’m only now at the point where I have enough energy to be social.” Her smile turned sheepish. “As you’ve noticed.”


“I have, though I knew you would return. I look forward to the finished product as well. It has been some time since we played, or even just enjoyed each other’s company.”


“Far too long. But here I am, talking about myself. I’ve not asked you a single question regarding your works and days. I cry your pardon.”


He rolled his eyes. “Not at all. Things haven’t changed much since the last time we had dinner, except that we’re here now and not at the other dive.”



Perique smirked and looked pointedly at the empty spot before him. “And yet again, only one of us orders food.”


He shrugged. “I suppose I could, to keep up appearances, but I find a drink does that almost as well and I can actually enjoy that.”


Fleeting Flame was a vampire. There was really no way around it, and some of the novelty had worn off. Not in that his condition did not fascinate her, but more in that some of the nervous animal energy had faded and she could find herself accepting vampirism--at least, his vampirism--with a surprising comfort.


He wasn’t of the lineage of the Father, which had been a boon. Whatever his story was, turned by a rogue, she had acquired only bits and pieces. She’d have it all in time, or so she felt. Patience brought forth many tales that years of prodding would only hide.


“You know,” Flame said after a short but companionable silence, “I have two proposals. I’m sure at least one of them might interest you.”


Perique raised her eyes at that, and tried not to get stuck thinking about the timbre of his voice again. She did that sometimes, especially with Scarlet Letter. Actually, she probably did it with Scarlet the most.


“Try me,” she said.


“First: you want this to be special, I’m assuming. You mentioned using the Society’s Castle Blood as your backdrop. But have you thought about going the extra mile?” When she just raised her eyebrow higher, he laughed and continued. “What I mean is, have you considered changing your form? Briefly, of course.”


She paused, and then squirmed. “Sorry, I know you don’t mean--”


He shook his head. “No, not that. The society does have potions for such things, you know.”


She snorted. “Oh, I know. I wasn’t impressed with the vampiric ones. Ken it, if it please you--searched them out the day before the Masquerade. Well, the one I went to. A pity I missed the last one. But no foal of the Old Colony would be fooled by such a thing.”


“Ah, but they’ve improved. After we talked about your lore, I did some digging of my own and found my sources inadequate. Digging brought me into the path of a young scholar--an absolutely delightful boy, I do need to tell you about that later--and… well. Perhaps if you knew there was a somewhat improved version?”


“If I knew such a thing, I would be very interested,” she purred. “And you absolutely must tell me about him. I assume your proposal involves getting me a bit of that?”


“You guess correct, madam. I can have him send me a few bottles.”


Perique managed not to skree like a giddy schoolbat. “Oh! She’ll love it! I’ll love it! Absolutely. Thank you!”


“Don’t thank me yet, when I’m not done! I do still have one more porposal to give.”


Perique waggled her ears at him, feeling playful. “Aye, so you do. Tell it true.”


He leaned in and whispered into her ear, and she hummed.


“Oh, nine hells yes.”
> II. In Which a New Servant Is Hired On At Castle Blood
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


II. In Which a New Servant Is Hired On At Castle Blood




[From the Journals of Scarlet Letter:

Note to self - thank Fleeting Flame at some point. Perique went to visit him last night, which usually means three things. One, I am going to have a wonderful storytime with her later about everything that went between them. Two, they have the biggest crushes on each other and I get to tease her. Three, she has just seen an actual vampire for advice about vampire play.

I am completely and irrevocably doomed.]

Underneath this is scrawled, in poor mouthwriting: I do so enjoy spinning tales in person.








Scarlet Letter dug through her saddlebag again and anxiously pulled free an envelope. That she was standing in front of the closed doors of Castle Blood rifling through her things in such a manner did not at present occur to her. Nor did it faze her much, for she had much grander concerns.


The letter inside was simple enough. Deceptively simple. Months had passed since that conversation in bed one lazy Sunday afternoon, and yet even through Perique’s latest publishing and her own caseload, it had not entirely been dislodged. This letter was the follow up she had hoped for.




Dearest Little One,


With both of our schedules clear for some time, we had agreed that a vacation of sorts might be in order. I know that we were going to discuss it further, but I realized that I had a delicious opportunity on my hooves.


If you recall, we spoke at length about experimenting with certain… elements, a few months ago. I would like to revisit that, and I think I have the perfect setting. There is another letter beneath this one, and a package that will follow shortly if you agree. 


You wanted a vampire. You shall have a vampire. Read both letters, and then if all is to your liking, simply send me back a note of affirmation through the sending flame. If not, or if you would like to tweak it, I’ll be closing the shop around four today.


Yours,


Perique Blend


P.S. Also, dinner at my abode tonight? 



The letter Perique had left her with was even sealed with an obvious kiss. She remembered vaguely Perique saying with a crooked smile: when I realized I could be a mare I embraced every feminine cliche I could find in my excitement. Some of it even stayed. 


The letter helped as she steadied herself. It was time. She’d said yes, she’d gotten ready… and she still wanted to do this.


All she had to do was walk through that door, find the changing room, and head up the great stairs. It was incredibly simple! The fact that she would have to go from the changing room to Perique’s chambers in a maid’s outfit was just an incredibly minor detail which totally didn’t make her flush a furious and eponymous scarlet. Not at all.


Nothing for it. She took a deep breath, started internalizing the role, and entered the foreboding Castle Blood.




*




The Lady Lilith of Sarnath, terror of the night, ravager of the Golden Coast--Herald of the Great Father in the Eastern Lands, Bloodmystic of the the Lost Mother’s Secrets--luxuriated in her opulent chambers.


Opulent by barbarian standards, of course. They were nothing as grand as what she would have had in the depths of Sarnath. She sneered absently. She would endure it for now. Yes, there was something here far better than riches to be had in this foreign land…


Blood. Fresh, new blood. Blood of new ponies in new places.


And speaking of, some should be on its way up.


After a moment, she heard a slight ringing outside the door and suppressed a fond smile. Testing out her bell without requiring a break in scene! Clever, but Scarlet Letter was a clever filly, wasn’t she?


“Enter,” Perique growled, and heard a little satisfying whine behind the door.


The door budged a bit, and then Perique--the Lady Lilith in full, now--unraveled her surprise.


Magic gripped the doorhandles and tore them open to reveal her sitting with a fanged grin. The amulet around her neck glowed with a baleful red light, and with a swift arcane tug, Perique had stolen her balance.


“Is that the sort of entrance you see fit for one such as I?” Perique asked.


Scarlet whimpered. “I, um--I didn’t mean to, there was a--but who?”


Perique sneered. “I was told the ponies of these lands were ignorant and did not yet know their place, but nothing could have prepared me for this. Stand up straight, filly.”


Scarlet obeyed, but slower than she could have. Perique encouraged her with an arcane pinch on her flank, right on her cutie mark, and the little yip she got in reply told her that this was going to be an excellent night.


“Hm. Turn for me.” She made an almost bored gesture.


Scarlet’s ears splayed out as she turned a full circle slowly, showing Perique her outfit.


Walking all the way here in it must have been embarrassing. She could see it in her love’s flustered appearance, in the way she less turned and more pranced as if hearing some erratic music.


“You’ll do. Maybe.” She clicked her tongue. “Tell me, slave, what your name is.”


“S-Scarlet, ma’am?”


Perique concentrated and the pendant she wore sprung to life again. She formed the lightest touch of magic into something like a hoof and cuffed Scarlet across the cheek--not to hard, but enough to elicit a very satisfying yelp of shock.


“Wrong,” she snapped. “You don’t have a name until I give you one. At least you remembered some kind of honorific. I think perhaps in the future, we’ll have to teach you the finer points of service, but for now I’ll have to focus on the mundane. The basics. If you think you can handle it, that is.”


Scarlet whined and looked uncertain. “H-how are you using magic?”


Perique didn’t strike her. Instead, she summoned up her magic and carressed her little slave’s cheek ever so softly. “Oh, sweet little lamb. You don’t even know what I am, do you?”


“W-what you are? You’re a pony,” Scarlet squeaked. “What does that mean?”


A dozen different routes laid out before her now. They hadn’t negotiated all the finer points, just the outlines. The possibilities alone were entrancing, as was knowing no matter what she did, it would all be a surprise. Well, every part but one.


“Vampires,” she said slowly as she touched her pendent, “can do many things that you’re no doubt ignorant of… and a bit of prestidigitation is the least of what I can do. Slave, we’re going to do something.”


Scarlet squeaked again. “What? I mean, yes--”


Perique moved on, half rising from her chair. “None of that, or I shall have to silence you for good. Do not test me, slave. Cast your clothes aside for now, and be quick about it or I shall graduate to something a bit harsher.”


Scarlet nodded hurriedly and started to wiggle out of her uniform, struggling with the stockings and garters. Perique let her struggle a moment more, and then whipped her around with magic. Night’s rapture, but magic was amazing, and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to give it up.


“Present yourself,” she said flatly and rose. Couldn’t keep getting carried away in playing around with magic. She had a beautiful filly to punish.


Scarlet stood with her legs together, nervously following Perique with her eyes as the batpony trotted towards her. The potions she’d gotten from the Clocktower Society’s excellent stores had done more than she could have hoped for, far more. She was at least a few inches taller than normal, with her usually respectably unkempt coat and mane now barely-contained wildnerness. Her small--embarrassingly small, for the record--fangs were so long that she knew that everytime she spoke that they were clearly visible. And to top it off, somehow the artificers had even managed to give her the glowing crimson eyes of a proper lord of Sarnath. Had she walked those ancient streets, ponies would have bowed to her readily.


Which was to say that a a part of her was touched that Scarlet managed not to bolt as a beast in savage opulence, all glowing eyes and golden adornments and sharp slaps, descended.


She didn’t say a word, but pulled Scarlet’s legs apart with some of her magic and paused only a beat to enjoy the whine. “You’re new. But you shall learn what it means to serve your betters, filly. You’ll definitely learn. Know what comes first?”


Scarlet tried to speak, but then shook her head.


“Good, you can learn something. Perhaps there’s some worth to you yet, slave.” From out behind the chair, she summoned the cuffs of monster leather that she had laid out. They clasped on, and the hour of practice she put into learning the basics of fine control paid off. They fit exactly as they always did, and each had Perique’s little leaf cutie mark emblazoned on them.


She continued as she circled and ran a hoof along Scarlet’s flank, over her cutie mark. “First come those. So even when I don’t have you strung up for something or other, you know I can. You’ll also know that I can do this--”


The most delightful part of her preperations had been getting a unicorn to help her design the spell. She’d practiced so many times that it was firmly muscle memory, and so she hadn’t even needed to pause.


A leash blinked into existence attached to Scarlet’s Clocktower play collar, and she yipped in surprise before a hoof slapping her flank cowed her again.


“Any time I want. And if I should want to take a stroll with you like this, then you will follow me. Every…” She struck again, on the same flank. “Every single thing I say is law for you while you are in my service. You are smaller, weaker, barely able to take care of yourself in comparison to me.”


She completed her circle and pressed her cheek against Scarlet’s from behind her before nipping her ear. “My every need is your delight, do you hear me? If I ask something, then you’ll do it. Tell me that you’ll obey me.”


“I’ll--I’ll do whatever you ask?” Scarlet replied, shivering a bit. She was starting to lean in, and Perique kept moving to deny her that. Not yet. Not even close.


“Everything,” came the answer. “And if I asked you to walk down the hall and ask one of the lords housed here to rutt you? If I asked you to do embarrassing things? If I asked… perhaps painful things?” She chuckled. She couldn’t help it. “Why am I even asking? Like you would have a choice.”


She retrieved the edge of the conjured leash and wrapped it around her forehoof and gave it a testing jerk. Scarlet Letter lurched forward, unsure if she was being called. Perique cleared it up for her with another, more forceful tug.


“There’s something far more basic, but we’ll get there. As much as I would love to show you what you’re actually here for… you gave me a bit of lip earlier. Brace with my chair, slave.”


Wordlessly, Scarlet obeyed. Her ears perked, trying to catch any slightest sound hinting at what would come next. Perique silently brought the crop she’d laid out right over her head and out of the poor mare’s sight.


“How many, how many… Well. Until it stops being enjoyable, I suppose,” she said to herself, and raised the crop high before adding, “Oh, and do count. Not counting would be… well, it would certainly make things fun for me.”


“Wh--”


The crop came down hard and fast, snapping on her left flank like a lightning crack. Scarlet almost fell forward, but she held. The urge to praise her was there, but she held off for just a moment.


“O-one!”

Another. Another. She didn’t even bother listening to what Scarlet said as she whined between her counts. The crop was nice, and the sound of it slicing through the air sent electricity down her spine, but it wasn’t quite enough. She wanted to feel it herself.


She switched to the opposite flank and took a few steps around to stand right behind her slave’s spread legs. The crop came up to lightly tap her inner thighs. “And you’ve yet to lose your balance. Very nice.”


Scarlet gasped as a hoof traced around her labia idly. “Though perhaps a bit too… impetuous. It’s good flaw to have. You’ll see how useful it is in a bit, don’t you worry…”


She drew her hoof away and replaced it with another crop hit, precisely in the same place she had already struck. This time, Scarlet’s count was mangled in a pained whimper. Perique’s eyes shot up to the enchanted Clocktower bell attached to her tail, waited for some signal to come, but none did. She smiled


The crop clattered against the floor, and she let Scarlet wonder what was going on for a moment before pulling her foreleg back and slapping one hoof across Scarlet’s right flank.


She loved it. She loved the adrenaline that ran through her, spiking along the outlines of Scarlet’s surprised whining. She loved the way the shock of impact ran up her foreleg, and she needed more.


And she took it. She struck again and again, and every single cry and whine and sniffle, every whimpered count, drove her on. She could feel her own arousal, but it wasn’t the focus. The pure mechanical movement of her own hoof, the sensuous thrill of that hard slap against her soft, pretty little flanks. She imagined the pained red flesh beneath her coat and it was like someone had set her mind on fire.


Perique lost track of the count--why let even an ounce of her care when her adorable slave could do it for her? She could feel her blood pounding in her ears, her heart double-time marching to keep up with the all-encompassing tunnel vision. There wasn’t anything but her hoof, the physical sensations it brought her, and the two of them.


She paused enough to rub her hoof along Scarlet’s sex and felt how wet she was and wanted to crow in victory. So needy! She didn’t even need to ask, but not commenting on it was just too hard.


“Maybe you won’t be such a bad slave after all, hm? Look at this! Shameless, but I don’t need you to be anything else. Useful and shameless. What count is that, filly?”


“T-Twenty s—“ she hiccuped. “Twenty six, mistress…”


Still panting, Perique started to come down from the peak enough to take stock. Scarlet was starting to shiver, and shifting in a way that signalled she was reaching a limit. Psychological or physical--regardless, it meant that it was time to move into the last act.


With a somewhat more gentle smile that Scarlet couldn’t see, Perique relaxed her body. She ran a hoof along her lover’s spine, not for the first time curious what it would be like to see wings there. The little thrum of surprise she got in response was like honey on her tongue.


She leaned in, nuzzling along Scarlet’s side and cheek before nipping her ear. Scarlet yipped, startled at this change of tactics.


“Poor little waif,” she purred. “Small and helpless to resist. So many ways that you could, too. Strong legs, strong back… you could put in the effort and be free. Anytime you wanted, you could stop all of this. You could free yourself.”


Scarlet was very, very still. Only her breathing, ragged and loud, filled what little space there was between them.


“You could end this at any point,” she said, and let a few beats pass. Enough time for an answer… which did not come. “But you won’t,” she continued. “Will you?”


“N-no…”


“And why’s that?”


“I… I’m…” Scarlet sputtered. Perique supplied her words.


“Because you know you can’t win. I’ll always chase you down. Besides, you were just made for this, weren’t you?” She pushed away, chuckling. “I rather think so. You may put your hooves down, slave.”


Scarlet did so slowly, wincing all the while, and then sat at attention.


Perique bared her fangs, almost childishly pleased in having a set that was now truly imposing. Scarlet, who had gained some of her composure back, lost much of it as soon as she looked at this new threat.


“Now that we have that out of the way... “ Perique chuckled. “Your main duty I will teach you now, by way of demonstration. The finer points you can pick up later.”


It was only now that she began to recognize something sitting right between her chest and stomach like a fire working its way up her throat. Thirst, but not like any thirst she had ever known. They had warned her that she would pick up more than just the appearance of the old vampiric lords, but she hadn’t realized just how powerful the need would be when it came.


Perique advanced one ominous, fang-baring step at a time, and Scarlet retreated. It was more cautious shuffling at first--she felt small, off-guard, vulnerable--but the anticipation in her eyes was there even when she was tripping backwards.


It wasn’t just the normal sounds of hoof against smooth stone that were clearer. She could hear everything. Every pulse of that beloved, quivering little heart was like a roaring in her ears that pushed out everything else but need.


“Any ideas?” asked the vampire. Secure in the knowledge that Scarlet was ready and as excited as she was, Perique left herself behind and became the vampire that the potions and the magic had shaped her to be in full.


She fell onto the bed in a mewling heap. “W-what are you talking about?” she managed to squeak out.


Playing dumb, and playing it well, and it fed the vampire’s thirst. Scarlet crawled up the bed, and the vampire ate up the distance in the blink of an eye, her every motion now almost uncanny in its dexterity. The vampire could feel the little thrill of terror in her staggered pulse and managed only by sheer will not to whimper.


“No need to be coy. I’ll cure you of that soon enough,” said the vampire, who now was above her prey. Her leathery wings spread wide, canopying them both and blocking out even the moderate light of her opulent chamber. She breathed on the slave’s neck and cheek, letting her stew in her own anticipation and anxiety, enjoying how with only the lightest of touches she could elicit all of this. “I’ll even be kind this first time,” she continued. “Very kind to such a small, new slave as you. Such a pretty little thing, easily trapped.”


She purred and kissed right under the slave’s chin and felt her pulse beating beneath her. So close… so close. “Maybe… it was for the best you were given to me, little stray. If this is the best fight you can put up, then a gilded slave-slut’s cage is the best place for you to stay.”


The slave wriggled under her and whined, and that was when she struck.Her right hind leg shifted in between the slave’s grinding against her lips, and then without warning she bit down as hard as she could right where the neck and shoulder met before the poor thing could even groan.


It was better than she could have imagined. It was harsh, yet almost sweet. It was metallic yet light. It wasn’t any of these things. In this form it was purest honey, and she lost herself in feeding like a beast.


Scarlet writhed, and her every motion and cry just served to press her against the vampire. She wrapped her legs around her new mistress as best she could, still wanting the release even as her conscious grew fuzzy and indistinct around the edges.


Perique was herself again. She didn’t know how long she had been locked in this embrace, or how long she had fed and held Scarlet down. Her leg was wet with Scarlet’s arousal, and as she pulled her fangs out the smaller mare moaned pleadingly.


She felt bold. She leaned in and kissed those imploring lips roughly, not bothering to lick the blood from her mouth, and replaced her leg with a hoof. Now she was in more familiar territory, and Scarlet held on to her.


“Such a good girl,” Perique breathed into her ear as she stroked. “Such a brave, obedient girl! When you finish, little one, I want you to scream it for me.”

And she did--already stimulated to her limit, Scarlet wasn’t long in finishing and her voice was hoarse and thick in the way only mental fog could provide. She clung tightly, almost painfully, as her legs shook, and then went slack.
> III. In Which the Slavefilly Scarlet Letter is Taught Her Place
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



[Notes on the Experience of Submitting:

Imagine... imagine your mind is fog.

Imagine your entire being, your entire everything, is a mist that's curling around you. Like the whole world is colors and light and softness. And no, that's not a drug. That's just the sensation that forces its way into your mind when you reach it.

They call it 'subspace' - when you go so deep into a scene that you become completely attuned with the persona. When all you can think of is to please the person in front of you. When you disassociate without being completely lost.

For an egotist like me, I need that in my life. And for a mare like her, I'd do it a hundred times over.

-Scarlet]


A few doodles of collars and restraints fill the page. Underneath one is a note. “ For me, there are many types of submission, but it is always an emotional experience, and it is always potent. It is like unscrewing the top of a shaken-bottle of sparkling water. It is like the bursting of flood gates. The inner life is exposed and thrust at last into the external life. What more terrifying or more desperately desirable thing can one imagine but to be Known and to Know?” The note is crossed out by the same pen, but still legible.




Scarlet, cowed and subservient, was led through the halls of Castle Blood. The collar and soft cuffs of monster-leather she’d been outfitted with were still secure, with Perique’s leaf cutie mark emblazoned on them for all to see. Her outfit had been discarded--a small mercy, as with her flanks still very sore, the poor slave would have not had a nice walk down to the lower chambers with it on--but in it’s place Perique had provided something almost as nice.


Holding her leash and walking just a few steps ahead, Perique hummed a soft tune, one of the old ones from her youth, and tried not to appear too eager to run into one of the other patrons.


She’d planned even this. Picked the day and the time and even the playroom they would use.


Not that she’d done all that just to parade her cute little slave’s abused rear in front of others. That was just a bonus. Scarlet’s public display in the hallways was just an appetizer.


Rounding a corner, they came across two stallions walking very close and grinning at each other. One of them, wearing the masks often worn by dominant ponies in the Society’s halls, cocked his head to the side questioningly. She grinned at him and gave just the slightest nod, thankful that Scarlet would probably not notice. She had seen company and instantly bowed her head in embarrassment.


“A new one, I see,” said the masked stallion, and beneath the mask she could see him grinning.


“Very new,” Perique purred and brought Scarlet up to sit at her hooves with a tug. “Have a look, if you’d like.”


The two stallions laughed and approached. Perique watched them, amused yet also watchful as they circled the flushed Scarlet, commenting without hesitation. They did not touch her, nor did they ask to do so, but it was enough.


“She has nice flanks. Would it be alright if she stood for us?” asked the one without a mask, who wore no collar.


She clicked her tongue and Scarlet’s ears perked. “Slave, present yourself to these fine stallions. Swiftly, ‘ere you draw my ire.”


With a squeak, the small mare nodded and stood for a moment before half-kneeling on her front legs and spreading her back ones.


Perique knew that if she looked over that her own arousal would be hard to hide, but that honestly only made it harder not to look. The maid uniform had been folded and left on the bed during a brief break, and then she let Scarlet sit at her feet for awhile before offering her a choice. She could wear the scratchy maid’s uniform and have it rub against her sore flanks all the way down into the depths…


Or she could let Perique adorn her.


Scarlet’s tail swished as much as it could as the stallions whistled admiringly--not that it could move much, and not that she could hide her exposed sex. The bit in her mouth tied to the base of her tail had made that impossible. The plug in her ass and the one from her dripping snatch drew their attention, and they chuckled as they pointed out just how pretty she was with her new lady’s cutie mark in plain sight for anyone to see to whom she belonged.


They leered a bit more, the one in the mask even commenting that he was almost jealous of the good Lady, before they went their own way. Scarlet was tugged up by her leash and a tongue click, and she followed dutifully. Perique didn’t need to look back to know that her little lover was a quivering mess. If she had had their consent before, she would have been tempted to play with her toy right there with them watching. Perhaps another time.


There was always tomorrow, after all.


The rest of the way was without incident, not that the adorable slave seemed to appreciate it. She kept her head down as much as the leash tugging on her collar would allow, her ears splayed in obvious embarrassment, and Perique couldn’t help but steal glances back at her to revel in the obvious squirming.


But the hallways and great opulent chambers gave way eventually to winding stairs down into the bedrock beneath Castle Blood, lit by torches and the red tiny will-of-the-whisp that her magic kept aloft above their heads. Every step echoed. Here was where things got very different. They had played with others present, played in groups, but Perique had always chosen more conventional spaces or their own homes.


Seized by a whim, she stopped on the long stair. Scarlet almost bumbled into her, but to preserve at least a bit of both their dignities and to keep herself from being toppled, she stopped the poor slave in a magic grip. She loosened the reins enough for Scarlet to be able to speak and waited as she worked her jaw.


“Tell me, pet,” she stage whispered into the seeming void, “how do you feel?”


“F-Feel? I mean, I don’t understand, mistress.”


She let their voices echo a bit, let Scarlet wait on the answer just a second past where the lack of answer became uncomfortable, and then spoke. “Were I one such as you, little pet, I would be shaking with fear.” She put a hoof under Scarlet’s chin and lifted so that their eyes met. What a sight she must be, eyes shining bright red in the dark. Already, the poor thing quivered. “Before, you could entertain fancies of escape. Maybe if you were fast enough, maybe if you were clever enough… But where I’m taking you, there is no escape.”


She leaned in and spoke the last right in Scarlet’s ear, nuzzling her chin as she did in just the right way for her fangs to prick the shivering’s mare’s cheek. “Is such a new, unruly slave truly capable of withstanding what awaits her at the bottom of these stairs?”


Scarlet groaned and fumbled over her words. “I… I… Does it have to wait ‘till then?”


Perique laughed and pushed her back lightly with a hoof. “I suppose I have no need to stay my hoof, then. Not that you’ll wait long.” She replaced the bridle with slightly more roughness than was perhaps necessary, just enough to get a little surprised yelp that drew out a grin, and then pulled Scarlet the last few meters to the bottom.


Another hallway, dark as the stairs, but Perique pulled her along so she could only experience it in flashes of light and the crack of what could only be a whip of some kind, followed by a sharp cry somewhere between pain and lust.


Perique took her distraction to quietly and quickly unleash her, open the door to the room she had selected beforehand, and prod Scarlet in with another magical touch.


Scarlet squeaked and tumbled in.


The room was unassuming. Bare, except for two key things: a table with various implements on it, and a wooden frame. Scarlet blinked at them, as if trying to piece together a puzzle.


Typical. Even here, she can’t not try to make sense of it. Perique smiled to herself and then stepped into her role in force.


“Sit up straight,” she barked. “I must prepare a few things. Move an inch and I shall know. Turn thy head, and I shall know.” Now she began to lean into the archaic patterns of the Old Colony. “Do so much as whine without my permission whilst you are in this place, and I shall repay you for your insolence.” She circled, glowering. “Tell me, what are you?”


Scarlet let out a whining, unintelligible sound. She didn’t really need an answer. Getting her to fail at speaking around the bridle, unable to control herself as she drooled a bit around it… that was more than enough.


She tugged at the loop on her little slave’s collar, guiding her towards the wooden frame, before leaving her to stare at it. Let her overthink it. Perique hoped she would, as she stepped away to make sure the things she had stored here this morning were all in order. This was as much a game of the minds as it was of the body, and nothing was sweeter than letting the imaginative ones stew in their own anticipation.


Satisfied, she returned and stood on the other side of the A-shaped frame. “There are blocks on either side,” she said evenly. “Use them.” Another magic tug, and without much prompting the wobbly Scarlet Letter ascended.


Under each of her hooves was a small platform with straps, and as soon as each hoof touched tentatively down it was secured beyond recovery. Scarlet pulled at them and looked back up at her with shock that Perique wasn’t quite sure was entirely feigned.


She pinched the skin beneath her slave’s coat, right above her cutie mark. Yes, the first moment you were bound was a shock, but she had more exciting things in store. “Lie down. Stop squirming, or I shall add even more.”


She didn’t have to say what she was adding. It was better not to. Let Scarlet guess. Let her guesses get ever more wild.


As soon as that cute little tummy was touching the padded frame, Perique captured it with another strap. She stepped away and admired the view of a wide-eyed, trapped Scarlet. She hadn’t been lying before: it was easy to escape up above. Her lover was resourceful if nothing else. But here? Down so far, bound as she was?


Helpless. Like a doll Perique could toy with at her leisure.


She stepped back, caught a smiling look at her slave’s backside still exposed to the cold air, and retrieved a riding crop. She tested it on her own foreleg and winced even as she hummed with pleasure. The pain was nothing compared to that satisfying smack. She loved the force of it, the way it reverberated.


“Do try to count, even if you can’t say a thing, you squirming little slut,” she spat, and then with an eager grin she began.


The crop slapped down hard on Scarlet’s flank, filling the room with the sharp sound and Scarlet’s startled hiss. Before she could even grumble out some sort of response, the Lady was on her again, laughing as she struck a second time, a third, a fourth right beside her plaything’s lashing tail.


She paused, her chest heaving. It felt… it felt like falling forward, like her head and heart were on fire. “Ring your little bell, toy,” she growled. “It pleases me.”


Scarlet stiffened and the safety bell attached to her tail rang clearly. Perique, again, wasn’t lying. She did like the clear, pleasant note. But what she liked more was the way her concerns and bubbly worry vanished. She could do this. It was alright to do this.


She went in hard, catching Scarlet on both flanks evenly, even striking twice on her shoulders with a lighter touch. She gave no quarter, and the blows came one after another with a indulgent methodical efficiency. Every blow, every choked gasp or cry, every trembling muscle beneath her--they drew her out of herself, drew her out of being Perique until all that was left was the Lady, the Vampire, the blood-instinct that flashed with lust at each tiny prick of pain.


She wanted to feed again, and only the way Scarlet twitched at the very possibility of another blow satisfied her enough to keep that at bay. No more blows came. Scarlet did not stop shivering. She was still waiting for the next impact.


What she was not expecting was for her Lady to gently run the tip of the crop underneath her tail and toy at what it found there. She gave a choked gasp and bucked against the crop, and the Lady pulled it away with a laugh.


“Are all mares of the East as slutty as you, I wonder? Here you are, strapped down and at my mercy, bruised and beaten, and the mere hint of what I might give you and you can’t help but act like a bitch in heat.” She walked around into the slave’s line of sight and stayed there for a moment, eying her, before lifting the crop to her lips and tasting the tip. “You taste of shameful lust, you know. You reek of it.”


The Lady bared her fangs and returned the crop to her slave’s slit and teased around it gently. Her little slave couldn’t meet her eyes, and only with another tug at her collar did she look up.


“Look down, and I’ll stop,” said the Lady, and carefully pushed the edge of the crop between her folds. “Look into my eyes. Nowhere else.”


She took a step forward, then another, and silently took a deep breath. She hadn’t tried this yet. It was an unknown. But her new borrowed nature screamed in her ear to be let loose, if only for a moment.


“Look into mine eyes and see how they push out all besides. They’re everywhere, aren’t they? So wide, so large, so all-seeing. Thou couldst never escape, even if--” she added a touch of magic to the edge of the crop, knowing from experience it would feel like a gentle buzzing. “--even if your dripping sex would let thee. But I know you don’t want to flee. You’re enjoying this, aren’t you? What a little slut you are. You should be terrified and pleading, and all you want is this.”


She removed the crop, and replaced it with magic before her slave could protest. “Thy legs are shaking like a sapling in a storm, little pet. Little toy. You would do absolutely anything right now, methinks. If I were to but ask it of you, you would beg for me to hurt you in delicious ways for just a bit more of my touch.”


The desperate slave tried almost lazily to shake her head, but even that was too much. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hypnotic stare. Even as the crop punished her flanks, her shoulders, the buzzing against her exposed pussy continued.


“Sing for me, little pet. Sing like a good girl for her mistress.” She removed the bridle quickly and the hapless slave let out a shrill, needy cry.


“Beg me!” the Lady. “Beg me to use you for my pleasure. Beg me to make you a toy for my amusement.”


“C-Cel… I…” the slave stumbled over every syllables. They came out in a rush as her body shook. “F-F-fuck me please, please stars above I’m begging you.”


Perique was caught up in the moment. She slapped Scarlet across the face. “I’ll decide when that happens, slave,” she said haughtily, and then paused.


There was a spike of fear in her belly as the sound of her blow echoed on the stones. All of the worry came to the fore in a rush. She’d gone too far. She’d gone too far--


And then Scarlet looked up at her and nodded with a look she could only describe as hungry. “Yes’m, yes mistress,” she babbled, her face flushed.


“That’s enough of that,” she said. The world around her stilled and steadied itself. She was still alright. She was still here, Scarlet was still here, and she hadn’t gone too far.  She tied placed the bridle back in her mouth.


What came next was torturous, but she loved it. With her magic she teased at the edges of Scarlet’s sex, pausing only to nibble on as she circled. The crop would hit at random points, never repeating itself. The swing would come, Scarlet would writhe, and then her legs would go stiff as Perique teased and teased.


The Lady was back. She toyed with her slave. She played her like a violin before a packed concert hall. Bite here, and she whined--touch there and she would shiver. Only when the shivers were all she got did she step back for a moment.


“You’ve endured, haven’t you?” she said quietly after a moment.


The slave nodded slowly, as if she were in a daze.


“Thou didst so well, too. I almost want to reward thee.”


She watched the slave’s ears perk with sudden urgent interest. There was nodding and muffled pleading around the bit, and a vain attempt to lash her tail, and none of it moved the Lady a bit. She stood behind her toy and watched all of this quietly.


“But, I’m not here to reward you, not really,” she continued, and waited for the whine before she went on. “I’m here to show thee that thou art at a best a toy. A plaything. A new slave to break in before my guests arrive, and nothing more. If I want to give thee release, why, I’ll do it. If I don’t…”


She laughed at the whines the poor thing made. “But I find I enjoy playing with you, so perhaps I’ll continue.”


But she didn’t, not right away. She let the crop wander idly over her slave’s back, let it touch the bruised and raw flanks. Time wasn’t exactly of the essence, after all. She’d chosen this frame position and this frame precisely because it would be easier on her lover if she decided to draw things out.


Then she drew away, and her pet was alone.


At first, she merely admired. Even like this, Scarlet was beautiful, wasn’t she? Especially like this. It reminded her of old historical paintings, all strong emotion and vivid posing, all drama and frozen action. Every frazzled breath was precious.


Perique didn’t leave her alone for long. She didn’t want to worry so much as make her… anxious. Let her stew in the wanting.


She checked her pendant and nodded. Still some magic left, but she didn’t want to run out mid-scene. She carried what she needed from the table and then nuzzled against the slave’s flank, eliciting a soft gasp. “What a silly, squirming thing you are,” she murmured, and then nibbled a bit.


She had enough magic for a few more minutes, surely. That was really all she needed.


“I’m going to play a little game,” she said quietly. Her voice echoed off the stone walls. “I would ask you if you wanted to play, but you don’t have any choice. Let me tell you the rules.”


As the Lady spoke, she maneuvered the toy she’d selected around to touch her slave’s sex just slightly. Just announcing it’s presence, that was all. “I’m going to do something nice for you, pet, just because I want to. The blows won’t stop. If you finish before I do, then there will be consequences. Do you understand me?”


She didn’t wait for the muffled answer before slipping the toy in slowly. Scarlet’s head lashed back and forth. Of course she wanted to back up into it, wrap her legs around, do anything at all--but she couldn’t. It was the beauty of the frame. All she could do was feel and enjoy.


Once the toy was all the way in, Perique let out a shaky breath and then touched the button near the base that set it to buzzing.


She let go of the smirking, sadistic vampire long enough to groan softly into Perique’s side. She could feel the little earth pony shaking and shivering and it took a lot of concentrated willpower not to simply reach down and touch herself. Stars above she wanted to just listen to that moans coming around that bit in her lover’s mouth and just…


She called up the magic and the crop began its work again. Just a bit more, she told herself. Just a bit… and if she had any left over she could use it on herself.


If she hadn’t been bound, Scarlet’s legs would have given out as soon as the toy started vibrating. Her moaning had given way to muffled cries and a kind of high-pitched mewling as she ground her whole body against the only thing she could: the frame. The crop swatted at her flanks, and Perique laid back to watch.


She licked her lips and slowly reached down. No, she wouldn’t wait. She could multitask. That time with the Rangers had been useful for that, at least. Her head was swimming in lust, her whole body was warm and she was hard. The first touch of her hoof along the length of her marecock elicited a groan that she only barely suppressed. The crop faltered in midair, but she corrected it.


She stroked and watched and bit her lip, and every single sound drove her faster. But her hoof wasn’t enough. Perique divided her magic suddenly, not even thinking anymore, and encased her length and sheath in a vibrating, pulsing magic grip. She shuddered, and squeezed her eyes shut.


“R-Remember, pet,” she rasped. “Finish before your mistress, and she’ll be displeased.”


Not that the poor thing was going to find that difficult. Perique shifted her weight and gasped. By the Old Gods it wasn’t even hard to divide her attention between two things! It just happened! Scarlet was panting now,  still trying to grind back without luck against the toy that was in her.


And Perique decided to help her along. The crop fell out of the air, and instead she used her magic to circle around Scarlet’s sensitive little nub and tear the bit from her mouth all at once. She didn’t know how she was doing it. She didn’t care. Perique just wanted to hear her plaything screaming her name.


And she did, loudly, loud enough to be heard all the way down the hall. “Mistress! M-Mistress L-liliitthhhPerique oh--I--” She was babbling, trapped with nothing to do but enjoy her ride over the edge as Perique watched her winking around the toy.


It was too much. Scarlet finished with a long wordless cry and her whole body seized up before going limp. She tried to speak but it only came out in a rushed babbling of nonsense, her mistress’ name mixed in for good measure.


It only took another moment. Perique came, and she came hard, enough to make spots flash in her vision and steal her breath away. Her wings flared out behind her and she didn’t even care to hide the sound of her pleasure.


A last bit of magic shut off the toy, but it was another long moment of the both of them panting in the sudden silence before she could rise on shakey legs to come around to where Scarlet could see her. Smiling softly, but no doubt with a gleam in her eye, Perique held up her hoof covered in her own spunk.


“Clean thine mistress’ hoof, pet,” she purred, and Scarlet obeyed without a word, groaning desperately and exhaustedly as she licked the hoof clean. The toy wasn’t removed until every bit of her seed was gone, and once it was out Perique returned to nuzzle her lover’s cheek.


“There’s a mattress in the corner,” she said softly, and kissed Scarlet. “I’ve already laid it out. That sound nice?” She got weary nods and an absent smile in return, and went about loosing the bonds and leading an exhausted earth pony carefully to her rest.
> IV. In Which a Lavish Occasion Provides an Opportunity for Exhibition
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



[On Aftercare Regimens:

She always brushes my mane.

I've never had anypony else even bother to try.

Is that why I love her?

-Scarlet]

A reply: “Cruelty, even in play, is difficult. My nature rebels against it. Some ponies may live for the harshest moments of the variety of activites in which we are often engaged, but it is the moments afterwards that I have always sought after. It is the shattered walls and the solemn pageantry in the afterglow that compels me through the strangeness of intimacy.” Underneath it, a doodle of a batpony carrying a brush in her smiling mouth.










A night of sleep had done them both well, but it didn’t stop Perique from fussing over Scarlet.


For her part, Scarlet simply sat still and waited. Some ponies might mind, but there was something about being looked out for and cared after that made her feel small and a bit warm right in her chest.


She squirmed happily on the stool in front of the mirror as Perique brushed out her hair.


“How are your legs?” Perique asked softly. “Flanks?”


“Hm. They’re fine,” Scarlet said and smiled up at her. With a tsk, Perique lowed her head back to look at the mirror.


“No moving, little one. And… if you say so. I’m glad. You remember what we discussed?”


Scarlet thought, and flushed a little. She tried to hide her face, which was a bit difficult with the mirror betraying her. “I do.”


Scarlet leaned in and nibbled on her ear. “Good girl. Now to show you what I picked out for you. Ready?”


Scarlet’s ears perked and she nodded fervently. And when she saw it? It was a miracle she wasn’t a puddle on the floor after.







Scarlet tried to keep her breathing steady, but it was difficult. She tried to fall into her role, but that too was difficult.


They’d talked about this. They’d talked an awful lot about it, envisioning what it might be like, but no amount of mental rehearsal prepared one for the reality. Playing was one thing. Being witnessed was one thing. This? This was… this would be something different.


Perique--the Lady--led her lazily on a leash. She was taking her time, wasn’t she?


“I can hear your beating heart, you know,” said the Lady, and Scarlet gasped. “Yes, even now. I can hear the poor thing beating double time. I wonder why. Fear? Anticipation?” She hummed and tugged on the leash a bit. “Perhaps a bit of both. Embarrassment? I would think not. Do you like what I selected?”


Scarlet nodded. “Yes, mistress.”


And she did like it. No, more than that, she loved it. Her Lady had picked out a white dress with a lace collar that fit her perfectly. It was simple, but in a graceful way… and there was something nice about Perique having to help her button it properly in the back, at the neck, that just made her shiver.



“Good. Of course, if you didn’t like it, you’d still be wearing it.” Perique tugged the leash again. “I happen to like it, and that is enough for me, pet.”


Perique herself had chosen a red dress that had a cut along the flank so that her cutie mark was just visible at times as she walked. She’d seen that cutie mark many times before, but somehow being allowed only a glimpse made it new and twice as eye-drawing. Her jewelry was stunning, and it was hard for her not to slip out of character just to wonder where it had all come from.


When they arrived at the banquet hall, Scarlet’s heart leapt into her throat. This was it.


She almost didn’t see the Lady until she was tilting her head up to meet eyes. What beautiful eyes, red and endless. She felt rooted to the floor. She simply had to look.


“These are my instructions, slave. Listen well, for you walk into a den of wolves. Nod if you are not in a stupor from my gaze.” Scarlet nodded, and she continued. “Good. I will put you under my compulsion, but my yoke shall be light. You will do only what you wish. If somepony asks to play with you, you may play as your heart desires. If any of my guests asks to feed, you shall let them. If they have not asked, you shall tell them that you belong to me. You will reply only with ‘yes,’ ‘no,’ and the agreed upon signs.”


Scarlet kept nodding. “Yes,” she breathed softly.


The Lady cuffed her cheek, but with a smirk. “Good girl.”


And then she opened the doors.


Seated on opulent chairs around a low, wide table were a number of ponies. Each and everyone of them was dressed as her Lady was, in fineries far beyond what a lowly slave such as herself could hope for, and each had eyes of darkest red that bored into her.


She froze on the spot. It was one thing to be looked at, be noticed. It was another entirely to be noticed by an entire room of vampires.


They looked… imposing. Celestia, was that one licking his lips? Wait, that was…


Her Lady was right beside her, speaking in her ear. “Hop to it, pet.”


A stroke of lightning went up her spine and Scarlet stepped over the threshold.


She was led to the table and and her leash was unclipped. The Lady spoke to the others, but Scarlet didn’t catch much of what she was saying. Her eyes split their time between the table and the floor. She could feel their hungry eyes on her.


“Who’s this?” asked a voice.


She flinched and looked up and took a shallow breath. One of the vampires was smiling at her, a stallion with long flowing hair and a piebald coat. The threat of fangs in his smile made her shiver, and she swore she could feel where her Lady had bit her the night before. He leaned in, and a medallion worn around his neck slid forward.


The Lady clicked her tongue. “A new slave, a toy I picked up after landing. Would you like a closer look, Flame?”


“Certainly, my lady.”


Scarlet looked to her Lady, who only smirked at her. “Go to him,” she said, and Scarlet found herself moving before she even knew what was happening. It was a short walk around to the other side of the long table, but it felt like forever.


He met her eyes. She knew him. Fleeting Flame. She’d… she took a deep breath, and fell back into the role. That was the nice thing about a role: you didn’t have to overthink it.


“What may I do for you, sir?” she asked.


He raised an eyebrow and smirked, but when he held a hoof up, she saw a question in her eyes. She quickly mouthed the word “yes” as inconspicuous as she could, and then his hoof was lifting her chin. He hummed appreciatively, and had her do a little turn. Scarlet couldn’t help but whine a bit, which only made the assembled blood drinkers laugh.


“I might have to find one of my own,” Flame said lightly. “I’ve heard that some of our first servants are here. Perhaps I shall find myself a lovely batmare.”


The Lady chortled. “If you can catch one, aye.”


Whether she would have said anything else, Scarlet did not discover, for there was a third pony who interrupted. “Don’t keep her all to yourselves! She’s adorable, I simply must see her up close!”


Scarlet squirmed, and her eyes flickered over Flame’s shoulders to a pegasus mare with a broad fanged grin. Her wings fluttered at her sides to match the excitement in her eyes. “She’s so precious! Look at her.”


“Indeed I am,” Flame said and removed his hoof. “Can you hear her heartbeat? The poor thing.”


“She telegraphs her every thought,” the Lady said, and then laughed. Scarlet tried to somehow make herself even smaller.


The little red pegasus gestured commandingly, and so Scarlet moved on to the next. This mare was far less reserved than Flame had been, going so far as to tug her in closer and nuzzling her cheek, even adding a creeping lick starting at the mare’s jawline and trailing upward just below Scarlet’s ear.

“You are going to be absolutely delicious,” she purred, the heat of her breath causing Scarlet’s ear to flick. Then she turns to the Lady. “Please tell me I can have a bite! Just a little nibble? I could chew on that ear for an hour… maybe two.” She winks at Scarlet, her wing now joining in the inspection as she brushes it across the little treat’s side.


“Why do you think I brought her along?” the Lady said lightly. “But not yet, Penne. Do be a good girl and let the others have a turn.”


She went to each of them, but not before the mare named Penne snuck in a nibble on her ear with a giggle. Each spoke about her as an object to be admired, a plaything they would enjoy, a meal. Each called her small, or frail, or lifted her chin or asked her embarrassing questions. One, a gray mare with a purple mane, cheekily asked if she’d been fed from before, and Scarlet’s sputtering response drew a general laughter.


The purple haired mare only smiled and patted her cheek. “There, there, Misty knows you’re a shy little thing. That only means I won’t have to be as gentle, really. Which is just as well, as I have been looking forward to the chance to not be gentle.”


Scarlet gasped, and then by chance met her mistress’ eyes.


Perique’s sharp gaze was hard to escape, once met. Was this her imagination, or some hidden effect of the transformative draughts she’d had? Scarlet couldn’t devote much energy to figuring it out, because the gaze wiped out thought after a while.


“Return to me, pet.”


She obeyed, moving like one in a dream, and sat obediently on her haunches beside her mistress, looking up still. The Lady stroked her cheek and she almost purred in contentment.


“I believe it’s time,” said the Lady.


The Lady’s magic tugged at her collar, and now Scarlet saw that what she had thought was a table was actually a sort of runway with a step up. She was led up by the arane pull and then found herself twisted around to face her mistress.


Several things happened at once. She felt her dress riding up, and when she swished her tail instinctively she found it held fast. The Lady looked to one of her companions. “I hope you remembered to bring what I gave you.”


“Of course!” said Penne brightly, the mare drifting into a mocking little curtsy before she scurried off.


“Please, do come up and help my pet look her best. Slave, you will not move. Do you understand? Speak.”


“Yes, mistress,” Scarlet said softly and nodded.


She heard creeping hoofsteps behind her, and then somepony touched her flanks… and that was when she realized that they could all see her. She rubbed her hindlegs together, but stopped when the Lady shot her a withering glare. No moving. No… no hiding. She couldn’t hide even the slightest hint of her growing anxious arousal from a whole room of…


The lady took a step onto the platform and cupped her chin before closing the gap and nipping her ear. “Eyes on me,” she said gently. “Eyes right here. Do you know what she’s going to do?”


“N-no…”


Perique looked past her for a moment and nodded, and then focused back on Scarlet. “Do you remember those lovely bits I had you wear before? I thought to myself the other day… Wouldn’t it be fun if my friends here got to see that as well? I’m dying to show them and you off. So, in a moment--”


She felt a hoof touch her slit, lightly brushing it, and she couldn’t help but gasp. The mare named Penne giggled. “Mm… I do love it when they squirm, Lilith! Like juicy little worms on a hook… though I like prefer the shape of our treat to that of a common worm.”


“Aye. Don’t feel too rushed. Let everyone enjoy the show,” purred the Lady. “Though the poor thing might want a bit of, ah… help before you slide those in.”


Another giggle, and then another set of steps.


“Now pet,” said the Lady softly in her ear. “We’re going to play with you for sometime. You may whine, or call out, any noise you like. But if you move from this spot, then you will be punished. If you try to hide yourself, you will be punished.” She punctuated that with a sharp bite on Scarlet’s ear that drew out a needy whimper. “Do try to keep your legs from failing you, you silly girl.”


The reason for that last command became readily apparent as she felt warm breath on her nethers, followed by more light touches that turned firmer and more purposeful as two mares giggled to each other.


“Such a pretty little thing!” said one, and the other answered by nipping her flank.


“Look at her squirm! But she’s being good, isn’t she?”


Scarlet was panting, but only just. Her face felt like it was on fire, and soon so did the rest of her. One of the mares leaned in and licked her slit, her tongue parting the lips and Scarlet managed not grind back against her mouth by force of will alone. But she wanted to. She wanted to so badly.


They were both at it then, licking and nipping and kissing, one of them giving the sweet little nib at the bottom of her sex the slightest kiss here and there between digging tiny fangs into her legs. All the while, her Lady praised her, telling her how good she was for staying still, how obedient she was being, and biting her ear whenever Scarlet couldn’t help but whimper.


At last, one of the mares slipped the toy into her opening and Scarlet’s legs almost gave out. She needed it to move, to slide in and out. She wanted it so badly. But the mares left it there and giggled.


The buttons on her dress started to come loose one by one, and in a moment she was free of it. She didn’t see where it went, and in the moment she didn’t care. All she cared about was the slick, cold feeling as one of her tormentors applied a bit of lube for the plug which bore her Lady’s cutie mark.


“Penne, since you’ve been so helpful, would you like the honor of the first bite?”


“I would be honored!” singsonged the little pegasus and she nosed her away long Scarlet’s side until she nuzzling against her neck. “Don’t move a muscle, little morsel.” she said.


Scarlet felt her fangs sink in and cried out. Her Lady fortified her legs with magic so she no longer had even the option of sinking to the ground. Her vision swam, but it was so brief. The other, the purple haired mare, was next, and she nuzzled in on the other side and latched on to Scarlet’s shoulder.


Perique caught Scarlet’s head between her hooves and kissed her fiercely, biting her lip and stealing away all the gasps and whimpers. Scarlet leaned into the kiss, gave herself to it.


But it was over so soon, and Perique was trailing kisses and nibbles down her cheek and to her neck. She paused, and then chuckled as she moved on. Scarlet whined. She wanted her Lady to bite her as she had before… she wanted to fall into her forelegs again and feel so warm…


The purple haired mare was kissing the little wound she had made. “So cute! And you’re being so good!” She kissed her cheek and then kept nuzzling softly.


All the while, Perique was moving to her flank, and bit again to bring out a sharp hiss of pain that blossomed into raw, burning lust. She was so, so close… Scarlet wanted her to farther along…


Fleeting had taken her place in front of Scarlet and smiled warmly. “I’ve always preferred to pay service for blood, but to have it so freely offered? How could I say no?”


He wasn’t like the others. His approach was closer to Perique’s slow and almost stalking gait. The role was suddenly far from her for a moment. Perique had borrowed a vampire’s form and nature, but here was the real thing. She felt very much like a trapped animal.


And she loved it, despite her very real fear.

Flame was nose to nose with her now. His voice was sweet and suddenly lower. “Different, isn’t it? Just a bit. You can feel I’m the real thing. Your lover is close, I’ll admit. But me?”


Scarlet’s breath caught in her thhroat. “Y-yessir.”


“I always ask permission,” he purred. He nuzzled past her cheek. She knew where he was headed. “Have I yours?”


She tried to speak, but the words just refused to come. Instead, she nodded.


He purred again, and then he embraced her and bit her neck and Scarlet moaned without thought. He was so cold, and she was suddenly warm. It was like she was melting against him, and the watching, chuckling ponies and even the ministrations of her mistress faded away. She was wrapt up in ecstasy.


But it was brief. With a contented sigh, Flame stepped back and Scarlet wilted slightly. Smiling, Flame gave her a brief peck. “Delicious,” he said, and laughed at her whine before being replaced by her Lady once more.


Around them, the vampiric party gathered and commented. As Perique kissed her and bit her lip and pushed against her, they cooed and said how small she was, how easy it was to bully her down.


The Lady pushed her head down. “Bow,” she growled, and Scarlet sprawled out in front of her with her head to the ground and her hindquarters high. Her sodden sex, her obvious arousal, the plug--she knew they could see.


She’d been so good. She’d done what her Lady wanted.


“Beg,” said Perique. “Beg to serve me before these gathered, slave. Beg your mistress to use you.”


Scarlet squirmed against the platform. The command sets her heart beating double time. “Please, mistress… please let this little toy m-make you happy. I want--I need to…” The toy in her snatch twisted and moved and she yipped. “C-Celestia! Please, mistress, please let this slave serve you!”


“Better,” purred the Lady. She stood with her legs apart. “Crawl, pet. Crawl and service me with your mouth, and then I will take my fill of you.”


Scarlet mewled and squirmed on her belly towards Perique. She slipped through her mistress’ front legs and nuzzled against her sheath.


“Penne? Do be a dear and help as we discussed.”


She heard voices above her. But Scarlet was focused completely on nuzzling Periques’ nethers. She loved the way her lover’s belly tensed as she kissed and licked before suckling at her growing shaft.

That was when the first smack of a crop hit her flank and she stopped serving only to squeak in shock. Penne and the grey mare giggled. Fleeting Flame said something, and she heard somepony kiss, but then she was drawn back into her task.


Scarlet scooted closer, high off of the intensity of her service, and now cradled her mistress’ cock in her hooves, rubbing her balls and kissing the tip. Perique’s legs trembled a bit, and she hummed happily. Do a thing enough, and you’ll know when you’re doing it right.


She took all of it in her mouth, groaning around it. The smell of her own arousal mixed with that slightly salty tang of pre and her senses swam. She ran her tongue along the length and drew out soft cries from above.


Perique’s legs were shaking as she continued, groaning at the way the toy shifted as she moved, spurred on by Perique’s moaning and the breathless gasps she recognized as the sound her lover made when someone bit hard into her shoulder or neck.


Perique wouldn’t last much more. Scarlet had done so well, and she knew it, and she wasn’t sure she could speak even if her mouth hadn’t been occupied. She redoubled her efforts, bobbing her head back and forth and bracing herself for what was about to happen.


Perique came, letting out a long groan as she thrust into Scarlet’s mouth erratically, unloading her seed in wave after wave. Scarlet held her mouth on the head, swallowing and serving until her lover was spent and slumped around her. She let the softening member out of her mouth as she found herself pushed over and cuddled intensely. Around them, other ponies continued playing, but Scarlet’s world for this moment was only two ponies and her own dazed happiness.


“You did so well,” Perique murmured, and kissed her without waiting for Scarlet to wipe her mouth clean. “So, so so good.”
> V. In Which There Are Some Unexpected Developments
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



[On Vampirism:

In a perfect world, the detective doesn't have to worry about the extra-normal. We'd have pony magic, changeling magic, and that'd be the end of it. But I live up the street from a mare who has occasional tea with the tyrant of chaos, and my girlfriend has dalliances with vampires, so I have to prepare to contend with these things.

Vampirism is easy enough to spot once you've seen it. All imitations seem pale. Everything is just... hungrier, is I guess the way to put it. You feel that subtle tug before they ever bite into you, and that odd coldness. It's not quite evil - more, sad. Like they've had something warm taken and need to borrow a bit from you.

If you know a vampire who isn't a jerk, by all means contribute. It's a rewarding experience. But don't take anything but a thank-you in return. It'll lead to... complications.

-Scarlet]


“For the record, in this as in all things are there layers of meaning,” reads a note beneath, “I have met more vampires than one, and there are as many types as there are types of other ponies. It is hard to categorize everypony with fangs when you have some yourself.” There is an accompanying doodle of a batpony with her mouth wide open as if ready to bite, her fangs glinting in the light.





Perique sighed and smiled as she carefully brought the mug of coffee up to her lips. She was grateful for the day off, and grateful for a morning to herself.


Sure, things were generally quiet in the shop until a bit after noon, but it was hard to be completely relaxed there. No matter how much she worked to make it home, it was always going to be Work, and relaxing at Work wasn’t exactly something one did.


And she had tried, to be fair. The Ponyville Squire was probably better furnished then some homes, with plush chairs and all of the rustic charm she could cram into a handful of broad rooms.


The day was laid out neatly in front of her. Breakfast was well over, coffee had been brewed, work had been done on the new manuscript, and she had a host of books to occupy her until lunch. Perhaps Scarlet would be free for dinner. Humming, she mentally added that last item to her to-do list for the day. Scarlet’s company was always an excellent way to end a holiday.


It was then that a few hasty knocks rapped against her front door.


She blinked. She wasn’t exactly a hermit, and did occasionally have guests. But it was an unusual thing to have them uninvited. Had she forgotten some thing?


“Er, hello?” she called. “Who is it?”


A voice, but muffled. More insistent knocking. She set her mug down and walked over to open her door.


Scarlet was standing there mid-knock and almost fell over from the force of her own needy momentum. But then she righted herself and coughed. “Oh, hi! Um. Food.”


Perique blinked.


“Food? Did you forget to get groceries at marketday?”


Scarlet blinked back.


Perique shrugged, chuckled, and ushered her in. “Well, love, I was going to be making lunch in an hour or so, if you’d like to join me.”


Scarlet whined. “But ‘m so hungry.”


There was something… off about her. Just something, not any particular obvious thing. It was more that her whole demeanor seemed altered. Perique’s brow furrowed, and somewhere in the back of her head a bit of her that was forever a ranger reared its head.


“Well,” she said slowly. “I could make you something.”


“Fish? Fish is good. I like fish.” Scarlet’s stomach growled. “Fish.”


“I do happen to have some,” Perique replied. “Are you alright?”


But Scarlet didn’t answer. Her attention had moved on and she was already nesting in her favorite chair, bought specifically for her about a year ago. It was worn almost to pieces, well used and well loved. The normalcy of this behavior eased the little knot of tension in her chest. Just a hungry, eccentric little mare with her mind on other things.


So she retrieved her coffee and set about making an early lunch. She would have something else for lunch, but she supposed checking off the last item on her list hours early was a good way to use up her stores.


After she’d served Scarlet and sat comfortably across from her as she ate like, frankly, a starving dog, she witnessed her lover slowly regain a bit of her normal manner.


Scarlet blinked. Again.


“I um. Wow. That was weird.”


“It was. Forget groceries?”


Scarlet shook her head and settled back in her comically large chair. She wiggled around, getting comfortable, and then finally answered. “Nope! Actually, I have plenty. It’s just… I’ve had cravings all week, and even when I eat they don’t go away. You’re the only one in town who I can just, uh, show up and ask for meat.”


Perique chuckled. “Perhaps you know a bit of the sorrow of being a bat far from her cave, then, little one. Was that all?”


“I guess so.” Scarlet smiled sheepishly, and then paused. “Oh, wait. You weren’t saving that, were you? And why are you home now? Don’t you have the shop open?”


“I was, but it’s of no import. Today is a holiday.”


Scarlet furrowed her brow and gnawed on one of her hooves for a second. “What? But I’m sure I would have remembered that… Wait, you were saving it? Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, I--”


“I meant it. It’s no matter. I was happy to share, silly. In fact, it’s quite in the spirit of the day. It is not an Equestrian day, little one. Today is the day that Ulthar was founded, between the river and the mouth of the caves, under the trees. My family had represenatives present, you know. They had left Sarnath centuries after the Night Mother’s exodus east. I decided to celebrate in my own way, with a bit of relaxation. I had meant to see if you were free tonight, in fact. Are you?”


“Mhm!” Scarlet smiled brightly at her.


That’s when she noticed It, or rather, when she noticed them.


Perique did not rise from her couch. She did not raise her voice or make any outward sign of alarm. Her voice was as even and calm as she could possibly manage.


“Little one, have you noticed that you have fangs yet?”







Her sending flame-sent letter had gotten Fleeting Flame to her door not long after the sun fell in the sky.


In the meantime, she had been writing frantically to half a dozen scholars and even had sent a frantic missive to the expert on all matters vampiric, her once and future liege. Princess Luna had not yet replied, but she was sure that the answer would solve everything.


Scarlet, for her part, seemed rather unbothered by her new fangs. She had taken to examining them in Perique’s hoof mirror, stretching her lips back to get a better look. “They’re kind of small,” she said plaintively. “No sure if I would like them bigger, or if they’re cuter this way. What do you think?”


Perique took a deep breath and stopped pacing. “I’m… I’m not sure either way,” she said.


“You grow into the fangs, I find,” Flame said.


He sat on her ottoman, which had been pulled up to Scarlet’s chair. Perique had been pacing in between letters, all but tearing her mane out. How had this happened? What was this even? Was this vampirism? Had she passed it on?


She let out a low growl of frustration. “How are you not… not angry?” she asked. “At me? At… at… This is… this is terrible! What if you never see the sun again? What if I passed it all on, or… Could she have gotten it through me from you, Flame? Or did I do something? She didn’t feed from anyone! Only the Father could give the dark gift without a true exchange. I was so sure it was safe. Oh Moon, I’m sorry.”


She continued babbling apologies until she landed heavily on her couch and curled into a ball.


Flame and Scarlet exchanged looks, and Scarlet rose and crossed the space between chair and couch to sit at her head and stroke her mane.


She cleared her throat. “Mama?”


Perique whined.


“Perique? It’s okay.” She just kept stroking her mane. “Sit up for a bit? We could snuggle.”


With a wordless nod, Perique moved and they shifted about on the couch.


Flame had turned to face them both, and now looked off into the distance. He seemed intent on something, but Perique was exhausted and overwhelmed, and didn’t have much energy to wonder about it.


There was a soft fhwump as her sending fire flared, and after a nod he rose and retrieved a letter. Flame whistled to himself. “I could swear it’s adorned in silver,” he remarked. “Marked with the moon.”


Perique rose so quickly she almost threw Scarlet off the couch. “Give me that!”


Brows raised, Flame hoofed the letter over and it was opened and shared between Scarlet and Perique. They poured over it.


Scarlet looked up first, thought, and said: “Huh. Neat.”


Perique just sagged against into the cushions. “A thrall,” she said. “I turned you into a thrall. I don’t even know how. Luna doesn’t even know how.”


Flame chuckled. “I was going to suggest that, actually. It is potentially at least in part my fault. It’s likely that a combination of being fed on by a vampire, being fed on by that vampire’s albeit psuedo-kin, and frequency of exposure is to blame. A thrall… but if I may?” He gestured to Scarlet, who tilted her head at him.


“Obey me, child. Rise and walk into the kitchen and wait there until I come for you.”


Scarlet scrunched her nose. “Uh, do I have to? Also, I think only she gets to call me child.”


Flame nodded. “Noted. I was right, then. You felt no draw to me when I entered, and my words do not compel you. A thrall, yes, but only technically. A bit of the, ah, gifts of the night but only the barest taste. I do believe you should be free of any Master’s command, and will probably suffer nothing under the sun. Tell me, did your skin itch? Burn? Ache? Your eyes weren’t blinded in the street?”


“I didn’t really wake up until ten,” Scarlet said. “That’s, uh, I may have stayed up all night working on decks.”


At Flame’s uncomprehending stare, she turned red. “Card games,” she murmured and sought refuge under Perique’s wings.


Perique, reeling, shielded her automatically. “She can still live normally, then?” She sounded desperate even in her own ears.


Flame nodded. “Yes. It is possible she may not exactly enjoy the sun as she did, over time, but it is likely she will not lose the daytime. A craving for meat, and little more. Harmless.”


“I’m not harmless,” Scarlet muttered.


“Comparatively,” Perique answered, again automatically. Her mind was still working through what she’d learned. “So, fangs and fish. That’s it?”


“Probably.”


She sighed and gestured to him before pulling them both into an almost crushing hug. “I’m glad,” she whispered. “I’m so glad.”


Scarlet wiggled free and did her best menacing growl. “‘Sides! I got fangs now so I’m extra scary. Maybe I can be my own bodyguard next time I’m on a case!”


Perique burst into laughter. “Thy fangs are as small as a filly’s, little one, and I think I shall yet love them all the same.”


Flame wriggled free and laughed as well. Perique wiggled her ears and made faces, showing off the tiny points. Flame and Perique shared a look.


“You’ll grow into them,” they said together.