The drapes were luxurious in the Diplomacy Suite, sumptuous and brocaded. Trixie eyed them speculatively.

“Nice, huh?” said Twilight. “This is for visiting dignitaries. When I was growing up here, Princess Celestia wouldn’t let me play in this room, even when nopony was using it.”

“Is that so?” said Trixie. “Why are there curtains even where there are no windows?”

“There’s drapes for the windows too,” replied Twilight. “See?”

“Thick,” observed Trixie, her horn glowing as she pushed aside masses of fabric. She blinked, entertaining a thought, and then peered sidelong at Twilight, a fugitive smirk playing about her muzzle.


“Soundproofing,” decreed Trixie Lulamoon. “Trixie likes this room! Trixie is sure the visiting dignitaries enjoyed it as well.”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. “Oh, come on!”

“Trixie is sure they have,” said Trixie smugly. “Well… come on, or come in. Depending on what the dignitaries were served as,” and she licked her lips, “refreshments.”

“Are you being intentionally naughty?”

“Yes. Can’t you picture it? Those tall, handsome Saddle Arabian horses, retiring to their luxurious suite after a long day negotiating. They are tired and unsure whether they’ve given away too much at the behest of Princess Celestia. To their surprise, they are greeted with a large platter topped with a gleaming steel dome. It is so heavy, it requires two Saddle Arabians to lift. Grumbling, they proceed to uncover what they think is their dinner. Only then do they discover, on the platter, a cute little unicorn. She’s trussed up, hog-tied and gagged, and her eyes are very wide. As the lengthy stallionhoods of the Saddle Arabian delegation drop into sight, her eyes go wider still…”

“Trixiee!” wailed Twilight. “That’s horrible!”

“On the contrary,” sniffed Trixie, “it sounds delightful. Trixie volunteers, at once. Trixie is certain she is not the only pony to have volunteered for such duty. Dinner forgotten, the diplomatic delegation negotiates strenuously over and over until the cute little unicorn delegation is positively flooded with good will and interspecies harmony…”

“Saddle Arabians aren’t really a different species!” objected Twilight, blushing with her ears laid back.

“Oh, sorry,” said Trixie blithely. “Trixie may be confusing them with the Diamond Dog delegation, or the Minotaurs. Whatever. The cute little unicorn delegation likes the Saddle Arabians, because mrrrowr.”

“Wouldn’t that be the Griffin, or Sphinx delegations?”

“Did you have Saddle Arabian delegations visiting the palace when you lived here?” asked Trixie. “Obviously you didn’t get to be the cute little unicorn on a platter, but did you hear eager squeals in spite of all this soundproofing? Trixie is dying to know…”

“Stop it! Princess Celestia wouldn’t whore out her unicorns,” insisted Twilight.

“Even volunteers, such as Trixie would most certainly be?”

“No way! She’d want the diplomants to learn respect for her subjects.”

“But not learn the glorious sexiness and desirability of her cute little unicorns?” countered Trixie. “Very well then. Princess Cadance, trussed and hogtied.”

Twilight’s ears laid back harder. “Mmmmmaybe. Trixie, what has you so randy? Sweet Celestia!” She fidgeted, feeling squishy and jittery.

“Trixie thought you liked her being randy. Also, Trixie notices that when you’re in Canterlot, you’re more uptight. Is it like a parent’s house to you, making this sort of talk more forbidden?”

Twilight shifted from hoof to hoof. “Maybe. It can’t be right to fool around in a luxurious place like this.”

Trixie lifted an eyebrow. “Please feel free to correct Trixie, but are we not here at the invitation of Celestia, who’s barely able to restrain herself from offering many other sorts of invitation besides this one? Are we not teasing the alicorn, enjoying her company and renewing her friendship while contriving to spur her interest?”

That got her a glower from Twilight. “It’s not bad. She admitted she wanted me. She needs to settle down a bit…”

“But not too much?”

Twilight nodded. “Yeah. That.”

“Is it making Mistress uncomfortable?” asked Trixie. “Bringing fantasy elements into what was a secure and unprovocative former home, where for years you pretended sexuality wasn’t even a thing?”

“I never said that!” objected Twilight. “It was totally a thing, don’t get me wrong. But it was a private thing, you never talked about it. I had lots of fantasies, but they stayed tightly under wraps.”

“Or behind soundproof drapes?”

“Are these really soundproof?” said Twilight hesitantly.

Trixie smirked. “Little Filly Twilight had never seen the inside of the Diplomacy Suite, until the day she hid on a great big platter, determined to discover its secrets. She waited in the dark, under the steel dome, for hours, and her eyes blinked in the light when her concealment was lifted. And they were wide and adorable, but they went wider still as she gazed at the six tall and powerful Saddle Arabian dignitaries that towered over her. And wider still, as she saw the strange foreign horsecocks shooting forth, galvanized by her sweet unicorn body, and swinging stiffly forward to face her…”

Twilight squealed and kicked at her maddening lover. “Trixieee! Stop it!”

“Trixie lets you tell her stories every night, just about,” said Trixie blithely. “Fair is fair, it’s time for Trixie to tell her Mistress a story. You don’t like it? Trixie made it up especially for you.”

“I’ll just bet you did,” muttered Twilight, trembling.

“Oh, yes,” replied Trixie. Her smirk grew and grew. It was true: Twilight was writing an increasingly complicated series of stories about herself, her friends and even Trixie, told the way she thought her life should have gone. Trixie loved the stories, even (or especially) when she played a villain, but there was one thing about them: they were a dead giveaway. They revealed just how much Twilight Sparkle lived a life of fantasy, telling stories in her head.

“I’m going to put Saddle Arabians in my story,” vowed Twilight. “And I’m going to have YOU interrupt them before they can do anything sexy to me! How do you like that?”

What one mare could tell, another mare could study: Trixie had learned that Twilight could not resist a good fantasy. She prepared to seduce her Twilight through storytelling, leaving her magic bit hidden in her hat until the last possible moment.

“Filly Twilight wriggled and made mewling noises through her gag…”

“I thought you said I was hiding under the dome of my own accord,” objected Twilight, shifting more restlessly from hoof to hoof.

Trixie blinked. “Oops. Er, Filly Twilight wriggled and said…”

“No!” blurted Twilight. She blushed, hard. “Keep it. And keep your voice down!” She glanced at the door.

“Ooooh! Mistress likes how it’s going?” giggled Trixie.

Rather than answer directly, Twilight trotted over to the door. She checked to be sure it was latched. Trixie saw her vagina wink, and privately calculated that her unicorn mate was well past quivery and heading towards squeals and shrieks at a good clip. Twilight also eyed the heavy drapes, narrowing her eyes.

“They’re fireproof,” said Trixie.

“What?” blinked Twilight. “Really? Soundproof and fireproof?”

Trixie shrugged. “Of course. Otherwise the cute little unicorn would burn the place down. You know! I’d give her about two Saddle Arabians, three absolute max, before she is squirting like a magic firehose and squealing in ecstacy.”

Twilight gulped. “Really.”

“Oh, sorry,” corrected Trixie wickedly. “Squirting magic until she’s exhausted… and making mewling noises through the gag that binds her cute little mouth. It’s like the sound of the magic crackling from her horn is louder than her muffled squeals.”

Twilight moaned, her hind legs shaking… and then whirled and dove for the drapes, ransacking them.


Twilight turned back, triumphant, brandishing a sash. “I knew it! Canterlot window treatments often include a sash of the same or similar material as the curtain!”

“Soundproof and fireproof?”

Twilight nibbled it. “Ew. I think so—that’s really strange-tasting. Whatever! It’ll work!”

Trixie grinned wickedly. “So… are you ready to make mewling noises through your makeshift gag?”

“Oh yeah,” crooned Twilight. “I’ll do the mewling noises. This time, you’ll be the storyteller.” She shivered in anticipation.

“Nay,” said Trixie.


Trixie’s hat lifted. A magic bit floated into view, held by Trixie’s magic.

“I’ll get you started,” said Trixie, “and then I’m gonna be your Saddle Arabian…”

Twilight shuddered, a rush of arousal flooding to her nethers. “Are you sure this place is also fireproof?”

“Won’t matter,” replied Trixie.

“Why not?”

“Because,” purred Trixie with absolute conviction, “my horngasm is NOT going to go into the drapes.”

Twilight moaned, looking into Trixie’s hungry eyes, and then she whirled to face away from her lover, tail to the side, winking madly. Her horn glowed bright as she wrapped the gag around her mouth and tied it behind her head, fumbling in her haste.

Trixie wrinkled her nose, rejoicing in the scents of Twilight’s winking, dripping eagerness, feeling herself to be the luckiest Saddle Arabian ever to mount a mare. Languidly, she took the bit between her teeth with a delicate clink, feeling her artificial magic-induced Trixiecock drop and swing forward…

“MMM! Mmm mmmm, mmm m mmmm! Mm MMM mm mmm!”

Trixie’s ears splayed out to the side in chagrin. Twilight Sparkle had whirled and was exhorting her through the gag. It was somewhat ridiculous, as the lavender darling could have spoken more clearly, but chose to make ‘gagged pony’ noises with great earnestness, her eyes pleading with Trixie but her unicorn rump turned away.

Of course. She’d been promised a story. Trixie removed the bit from her mouth, and Twilight turned away again, eyes half-lidded, chin lifted in erotic reverie, tail lifted to match. Trixie gazed upon the glistening nook that was soon to be her target, and spoke.

“And Twilight screamed into the dense material of the gag as the long, thick horsecock of the Saddle Arabian diplomat thrust forward, wedging into her small body like… no, make that wedging into her small body for the very first time…”

Twilight visibly shuddered, and her pussy winked and drooled a bit of slippery lube. Trixie nodded—she knew her mare, all right. Dear Twilight sometimes had a terrible kink for ageplay, as her youth had been both frustrated and sheltered. Trixie moved closer, but rather than lick up the nectar, she breathed on Twilight’s shivering sex and continued to narrate: eyes wildly dilated, nostrils flaring at the compelling scents of unicorn horniness.

“And deeper and deeper it thrust, splitting her filly pussy and stretching her wide, and plunging on and on into her trembling body…”

Briefly, Trixie wondered if it made sense to say the stallion plunged ‘on and on’. Surely he would have to tug back out? She had the ‘trembling body’ right, though: Twilight was quivering all over. Heck with it, she thought.

“And on and on and on deeper and deeper into Twilight’s painfully tight fillyhood…”

The vagina in front of her face seized up and winked hard, clitoris jutting out. Trixie knew she was getting creative: any female pony as worked up as Twilight or story-Twilight would go soft and yielding, her vulva swelling out and readying itself for penetration. She saw it happening inches from her eyes, but all the same naughty Twilight got off on tales of dreadful tightness, as if she imagined herself a fawn or bunny on the end of a stallion’s voracious thrusts. The disparity didn’t worry Trixie: fantasy didn’t follow rules, and Twilight’s fantasies still less so. It gave Trixie ideas.

“And Twilight’s heart leapt into her throat as she felt the huge Saddle Arabian cock plunge so deeply, that, that she felt his medial ring push through her vulva and enter her, and still he kept sliding deeper, deeper, deeper…”


Twilight turned her head, her eyes glazed with lust, and though she used no words she communicated perfectly. Trixie continued, as best she could, though she was no storyteller and could only keep harping on the same tried and true themes.

“And she felt that ring thrusting still deeper into her shuddering body, his cock base so thick, and more and more and…”


Trixie took her bit between her teeth, and mounted Twilight, who was hyperventilating through her nose. Twilight’s silky tail thrashed against her crotch, and she felt a spurt of mare-juice splash against the front of her shin.

“L’ke TH’S, RRRRRR!”

Trixie aimed and thrust, pushing her throbbing mare-cock into Twilight’s wildly excited, quivering pussy.

“AHHH! I mean MMMMM!”

Trixie fiercely fought back giggles, but her heart sang. The silly darling! She could speak quite clearly through the sash, but it pleased her to play the heavily gagged filly. Trixie happily played the ravenous, infinitely-lengthy Saddle Arabian Stallion, and wondered if Twilight was imagining being hogtied while she was at it.

“MM! MMMMM!!!”

Her vagina was such a firm, eager grip, and slippery beyond expectation: Trixie took pains to not swing her hips forward too quickly, judging that Twilight’s best response would be from mimicking the story she’d been told. Twilight reeled, shaking her head, stamping with her forehoof.

“MMMM! Ohcelestia, I mean MMM!!”

Trixie, grinning with her face pressed to the side of Twilight’s tensed neck, slid it in all the way and gritted her teeth on the magic bit, swelling inside Twilight and thumping her deepest depths with insouciant expertise, just firmly enough.


She was rewarded with a genuinely fillyish squeal, and felt Twilight melt down completely, body shuddering and vagina beginning to clench and gush marecome… and Trixie realized her distraction had left her a brief moment before she inevitably followed her lover into climax. She was hard as a rock… but not quite ready to come. She opened her eyes.

Twilight Sparkle’s face was so beautiful behind the silly and ineffective gag, her teeth bared against it, her eyebrows arched up in beautiful pleasure-anguish… and then Trixie watched her tense, and a lovely purple gout of magic burst forth from her horn and soared through the air, accompanied by a ‘gheeee!’ from Twilight that also sounded irresistibly breathless and girly.

Trixie grinned, tightened her grip around Twilight’s body, bore down with her teeth on the bit, and delivered greedy, lusty thrusts against Twilight’s madly orgasming insides: hungry shoves, muscular steady churning of her beloved’s frantic pussy in spite of any clenching that sought to hold her still. She worked her swollen magical cock like she was kneading Twilight from the inside, relentlessly.


Twilight staggered and shrieked, unable to stop coming, and gout after gout of beautiful violet horngasm gushed from her horn as if Trixie was literally pumping it out with each clinging, hunching thrust. The light show cast mad shadows all over the room, until…



Trixie came in a violent spasm, and blasted blue magic from her own horn like erotic vengeance. It locked onto Twilight’s violet-gushing release, and earthed itself immediately, and Twilight’s wide staring eyes lit up blue, her body outlined with a blue glow as her Saddle Arabian stallion spurted horsecome into her quivering womb, and simultaneously drenched her psyche and body with his magic through the conduit of her horn.


Trixie, the inexplicably unicornish Saddle Arabian Stallion, hunched and growled and spurted the last volleys of magically-induced semen into Twilight’s womb. Her horngasm, still flooding Twilight, weakened, flickered, and went out. Twilight wobbled, squealed, collapsed… and Trixie followed her down, nuzzling the side of her neck drunkenly, making little nudges into her fevered vagina with the still-swollen artificial stallionhood. She knew Twilight wouldn’t want to disengage just yet. Apart from the heady delicious madness of still making love through the afterglow, the horsecome would disappear with the stallionhood when the bit was released, and Twilight liked feeling it inside her.

“Mmmm, mmmm, mmm… EEEEE!” squeaked Twilight.

Trixie spat the bit. “Oh, crap! The drapes ARE on fire!”

Twilight screamed again, kicking her sex-weakened legs feebly and swishing her tail as she tried to rise. Trixie, by contrast, was up and running, but the direction for her to run seemed unclear. Whinnying shrilly, she dashed from one side of the room to the other, wanting to flee but unwilling to leave her marefriend.

“Mistress!” she squealed.

Twilight, looking stricken, quit trying to get up. As Trixie galloped little circles around her, Twilight’s horn lit bright and true. Her magic seized an exquisite vase, piled high with lovely roses in reds and yellows, and Twilight swung the vase at the wall in hopes there was water inside.


The water inside was indeed plentiful enough to spray violently across all the flaming drapes, putting them out, and drenching Twilight and Trixie with after-splash.

Twilight stared dazedly out from under a soaked mane, holding a ragged bunch of thrashed roses in her magical grip. Trixie, brought back to her senses by the splash of stale vase-water, stared at her darling.


Twilight sulked. The ruined bouquet floated down to where she lay, along with an assortment of levitating crockery shards. She tried to fit them together, but her post-coital dexterity wasn’t up to the task. Twilight sniffled, and ate one of the roses.

Trixie snerked. Twilight pouted worse and ate another rose. Trixie began to smirk, and her grin grew and grew.

“We,” announced Trixie, “are the worst mischief unicorns ever!” She began to giggle at Twilight’s woebegone expression.

Twilight tried to cling to her tragic look, but the giggle was contagious. “Hey, gimme those!” she squeaked, as Trixie’s telekinetic powers grabbed for some of the roses.

“Share!” demanded Trixie. “How dare Mistress decide to eat all the evidence and not let Trixie have any?”

“Fine! I’ll eat these,” said Twilight, “and you snack on the crockery shards.”

Trixie stuck out her tongue. Twilight placed rose petals on it, which she happily munched.

“We’ll replace the draperies, of course,” said Twilight. “Rarity might know how. I think I might be able to work out an unshattering cantrip for the vase? It’s very much like a puzzle to assemble. Can you help me pick up all the pieces?”

“Mistress has come such a long way,” said Trixie admiringly.

“I beg your pardon, Trixie?”

“Trixie means,” said Trixie, “that some time ago you would have been hysterical at causing such damage to Celestia’s things. Now look at you! You are smashing her crockery without a care!”

Twilight blinked. “Huh. That’s not really true, I intend to fix this mess. I… you know, my feelings are quite embarrassing. Maybe I’m taking this ‘tease Celestia’ thing too far.”

“How so?” asked Trixie.

Twilight made a face. “I hate to admit it. There’s a part of me that would like things to return to the way I once saw them. At the same time, I completely feel the Princess’s interest in me. I’m flattered, don’t get me wrong, but… I guess I feel betrayed, at the same time.”

Trixie’s expression grew worried. “Mistress? That doesn’t sound like a happy thing.”

Twilight pouted again. “Oh, it’s all right. Some days I even feel equal to it. But do you know what I thought when I realized I’d broken that vase, and made a big mess? The first thought I had was, ‘it serves her right’. For disrupting everything. Maybe even for carrying on with Discord, or Chaos if you like. Trixie, is it right of me to think that?”

Trixie trotted over and hugged her. “Mistress! Let’s not think of it as wrong or right. As far as Trixie is concerned, teasing Big Snobby is perfectly fine, though Trixie started to like her much better as she revealed these surprising aspects.”

“Yeah,” said Twilight. “You loved it. I think maybe I’m not as over it as I thought.”

Trixie regarded her marefriend sternly. “Another hug!” she ordered, and snuggled her lavender unicorn until she got a big sigh and felt her body relax. “You’ll fix her broken crockery?”

Twilight nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Will you take a tiny broken fragment that’s not visible from the outside,” demanded Trixie, “and exempt it from the unshattering spell, so that there will be a flaw in the vase and you won’t tell Celestia about it but all the same you will know and have a smug look because you’re tricking her about something that would offend her sense of alicorn orderliness?”

Twilight’s jaw dropped. She said, “…how?” and stared at her marefriend, who smirked and petted her mane.

“Trixie would do the same… if she wanted another spanking.” The blue unicorn chuckled. “Mistress, that’s very clever, but don’t. That is a Trixie thing to do. Mistress will be happier if she integrates her new identity as Princess’s pet, with the old one of the faithful love-puppy.”

“I’m not a puppy!” protested Twilight.

“Maybe not,” countered Trixie, “but for years you might as well have been. Mistress, listen. That is part of why Trixie loves you. First you were like that with Big Snobby. Then, you were after that farm pony Applejack, and it didn’t end well. It hurt you deeply when you had to choose between Celestia and Trixie, but your sense of loyalty was answering a new call. When you became an alicorn, Trixie thought maybe the faithful love-puppy was gone for good…”

Twilight gulped, tearing up, suddenly remembering quiet mornings when she’d wake just to watch the dawn’s light creeping slowly across sleeping Trixie. Remembering her feelings as she’d sit treasuring every second, drinking in the sight of her beloved as her mortal time passed, expecting to go on forever bereaved as an immortal alicorn who’d lost her true love to Time.

“No,” said Twilight. “That was me, still.”

Trixie hugged her for a third time until she’d calmed herself.

“But you see Trixie’s point? Go ahead and let yourself have feelings, Mistress, but don’t give up on the unicorn love-puppy business. Trixie is worthy of it, of course: besides being great and powerful, Trixie loves you right back. Well, Big Snobby does too! Maybe the way she proposes to love you seems too intense, but Trixie is sure she means well.”

Twilight stuck out her lower lip. “No missing piece to the vase? It would be kinda funny.”

“Mistress, there may come a time when you’ll be glad you kept faith,” said Trixie. “Because if Trixie is any judge, such a tiny discrepancy would drive that alicorn up the wall. And you’re right: that does make it more funny. But we will have laughter enough.”

“Probably,” said Twilight, with a wry halfsmile. “We seem to have a knack for low comedy and smashing crockery.”

“We can bring unicorn amusement to the stuffy halls of Canterlot!” declaimed Trixie. “But as Mistress has shown Trixie… we can do it with love.”

“Awwww,” said Twilight, nuzzling her bold and provocative mate. “You may be right. But what about Ponyville, then?”

“What about it?” sniffed Trixie. “We are not there. Where we are not, is not interesting!”

“Well, don’t they need us too? We’re like the super-unicorn magic team of Ponyville. They count on us for that. It seems like every other day, Ponyville is turning to ‘Princess Twilight Sparkle’ for something.”

Trixie scrunched her nose and pursed her lips. “Mistress… when Trixie thinks about it, between your alicorn days and our time with Rarity as our submissive and the pranks we still intend to play on various Ponyvilleans… maybe they are entitled to a break from us.” She kissed Twilight on the nose. “They will still be the charming but dull little town when we get back. Trixie promises.”

Twilight sighed, unconvinced. “You’re sure they don’t need us there?”

“Trixie thinks they must be keeping out of trouble more effectively without US around…”

Angel Bunny hopped up and down, gesturing like mad.

“What is it, dear sweet Angel? Did you eat your salad too quick, have you got a stomachache, shall I rub it to make it better?” crooned solicitous Fluttershy.

Angel hopped more, squeaking and waving.

“Outside? But it’s time for your nap, dearest, on your special pillow in the sunbeam. Do you need me to fluff your pillow up again? Are you asking me when lovely Dursaa will come home? It’s sweet of you but he is working and won’t return until later this afternoon…”

Angel folded his arms and glared, sticking out his lower lip.

“Well, I’ll look, but I’m sure he’s not back yet,” said Fluttershy. She swished her long, flowing, enchanted tail, and flew lightly down the stairs to her front door, opening it and peering fretfully outside. “There! Angel Bunny, there’s nobody here to let in…”

A peremptory bunny-squeal from upstairs made her cower.

“I’m sorry! I’ll look harder,” pleaded Fluttershy. She pouted, and with trepidation stepped out into the sunshiney day, glancing to left and right. All was quiet: too quiet, with a mysterious absence of little bird and animal friends. Behind her, Angel urged her on, a worried look on his diminutive bunny face. She tiptoed around the side of her cottage, where trees overlooked Angel’s nap window…

There was a cracking noise, and a horrible squall from overhead. Angel sprinted for the safety of the cottage, instantly.

“EEEEEE!” squealed Fluttershy, cowering back, but it was too late. A huge dark form plummeted down onto her…

Gilda Griffin slammed into the ground, inches from Fluttershy, still clinging to a branch that hadn’t supported her weight. For a moment, predator and pony just stared at each other in amazement. Then, Gilda began to whimper, for those big beautiful eyes weren’t so kindly anymore. Far from it…

“You SCARED Angel Bunny!” snarled Fluttershy, her teeth bared in unconcealed rage, her enchanted mane flying wild in her ferocity.

“I didn’t mean to!” wailed the hapless griffin, scrabbling back a few inches, her gaze pleading piteously for mercy.

“Gilda Griffin, what are you even doing here?” demanded Fluttershy. “You were up in my tree! You’ve frightened away all the birds, and a good thing too! You broke my tree, look there in your claws! That is a living tree, young lady!”

“I’m sorry!” wailed Gilda. She shook in terror, grovelled against the ground.

“WHY?” yelled Fluttershy, also shaking, but in fury.

“I, I, I, I…”

Fluttershy screwed her eyes shut, and made an awful face. There would be no murdering of any innocent little birds that day, if she was any judge. She took a deep breath. “Why, Gilda Griffin? Why do you plague me? You are a big meanie!”

The big meanie grovelled on the ground some more. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m trying! Please, won’t you help? I’ll be different, I swear!”

“You mustn’t swear here,” replied Fluttershy tartly. “My little zebragasus foal should not hear bad language.” Her eyes widened, and then narrowed into a glare of rage again. “Are you trying to eat him, or my wonderful Angel Bunny? Tell me right now!”

“Fuck!” squawked Gilda in a panic, then did a doubletake at her lapse. “I mean… augh! No, no, I would never, I don’t want that, please please help me be good and like a new griffin, I want to be like ponykind and be nice and gentle! Ask Rainbow Dash! Ask Applejack! Except that turned out kind of weird but I totally didn’t mean it!”

Fluttershy glared at her griffin tormentor, who writhed in dismay on the ground and couldn’t look away from her accusing gaze.

“Is this a trick?” she demanded. “Why should I believe you? I think you’ve killed dozens, hundreds of innocent things. I’ve watched you do it! Now you come to me and you tell me, me of all ponies, that you want to change. And so you should, but go and do it around Rainbow Dash or some other roughneck ponies! Why me, Gilda Griffin?”

The amber predator eyes filled with tears.

“Because you’re the poniest pony ever, nopony compares to you, you are all of the kindness and adorableness I could ever want, nopony else could be as good and sweet and kind…”

“But I don’t like you, Gilda Griffin,” said Fluttershy, gritting her teeth. “You are a big meanie with blood on your claws and I don’t want to see you around here. Why don’t you go ask Applejack how to be nice? In between having mean noisy rough sex and hurting each other?”

Gilda’s tears flowed more freely. Grief visibly flooded her, and her powerful feline body sagged against the dirt. Still, she couldn’t look away, and she tried to reply and found the words stuck in her beak, unsayable. She gazed miserably into Fluttershy’s lovely but judgemental eyes, out of answers… and then she’d shut her own eyes, her face contorted with self-loathing, and she forced herself to answer anyhow, no matter how difficult the answer was to give.

“Because I love you, Fluttershy. It’s you I need. I need to be like you.”

She didn’t dare open her eyes, couldn’t face that condemning expression.

“I don’t care what happens,” she added. “I’ll do anything. Anything. Just please, please, PLEASE don’t send me away…”

She said the words, and began to shake, the tears bursting forth anew once she’d put the unthinkable into words, and Gilda Griffin shuddered in her own private hell upon the unforgiving earth, awaiting her sentencing.

Then, her eyes flew open, and all they could see was the sun through a silky pink haze, and all she could feel was the cool and gentle presence of Fluttershy hugging her, that long flowing mane draped across her amazed eyes, and that beautiful tenderness and that soft firm pony body wrapped her in an embrace that just about stopped her heart.

Gilda’s mind nearly snapped. She drew her head back to see Fluttershy’s face, and the beloved pegasus had tears in her eyes as well, and looked cross, weary and determined, and her bottom lip stuck out in an irresistible pout that betrayed her deep reserves of stubbornness.

“Very well,” said Fluttershy. “Though you wouldn’t want to be too much like me. But you should have a chance, if you really want it.”

Gilda’s heart pounded. “No way. No way. No way…”

“Don’t contradict me,” snapped Fluttershy.

“Awk! I’m sorry! I… agh!” squawked Gilda. She vibrated, still clasped in Fluttershy’s embracing forelegs, her face-feathers bristling out with a thousand emotions, not trusting herself even to move or speak.

“You’ll have your chance,” said Fluttershy firmly. “Though it’s not really a chance. You asked for it! You SHALL be good, and you’ll stop hurting other creatures, no matter what. Even if I have to compel you. But I’d rather not, so learn to be nice and kind, okay? I’m warning you.”

“What?” blinked Gilda. “I mean, yeah! Oh my GOD, yeah, oh thank you, thank you so much you won’t regret this…”

“Quiet,” said Fluttershy, and Gilda shut her beak. Fluttershy gave a deep sigh of resignation, and Gilda shivered with blinding ecstacy, feeling that lovely pegasus body moving against hers. For a moment, her mind was filled with wild fantasies of very gentle and nice lovemaking, her feline body merging with the butter-yellow pegasus’s in waves of carnal pleasure that somehow weren’t as magical as just being held by her beloved Fluttershy, which was actually happening, which kept on happening until she was about to…

Fluttershy released Gilda from the hug, and sniffed the air with a little frown. “Hm,” she said.

Gilda’s lip quivered, and her look was tragic: she’d been inches from orgasm.

“Please don’t have sex with any of my animals either,” said Fluttershy primly. “I suppose you’re asking to be one of my animals, from the sound of it. You can go and have sex with Rainbow Dash, as long as it’s not here. But you have to promise not to hurt her! Or let her hurt you, if it comes to that, because she is a roughneck pony and probably likes such things. And that’s not good for real ponies.”

All Gilda could do was nod, her eyes wide, drinking in Fluttershy’s stern radiance.

“Come with me,” said Fluttershy. “I’ll show you where you can sleep. And we’ll start working on your diet right away.”

Gilda flinched. “But I’m not gonna eat…”

“No you are not,” said Fluttershy. “We’ll try you on what Fluffkin and Cinnamon eat. No arguments!” She turned, and began to walk back toward her front door.

“Fluffkin and Cinnamon?” said Gilda, following on trembling paws, watching the tender swing of those soft pegasus hips with fervent, obsessed eyes.

“My eagle and red-tailed hawk,” said Fluttershy affectionately. “We’ll feed you birdseed, Miss Gilda. Won’t that be nice?”

Gilda licked her lips, staring at Fluttershy’s gently rounded flank, pegasus nipples just visible between her shapely legs, pony heaven just a little way above them.

“Yummy,” said Gilda, and thought: anything for this, anything…

“Ain’tcha gonna go look for her, Dashie?” said Applejack, plainitively.

Rainbow Dash frowned. “Give it another minute. You told her that dinner was your apple-carrot-alfalfa casserole?”

“Yeah, and she says, the Green Streak isn’t hungry when injustice roams the Everfree Forest! And off she went, again!”

Rainbow chuckled. “Yeah. Give them a week to get over it. I know Rock Candy isn’t convinced. Do you think Fluttershy is going to stop fucking where they can hear her? I’m tempted to do a fly-over, that sounds incredibly hot.”

“She’d better,” said Applejack darkly. “She’s got ‘em all worked up. Rock jes’ keeps on saying the monsters are coming closer, and of course our Spy, she believes every word of it. Dammit, Dashie, she’s stayin’ out all night huntin’ for ‘em!”

“I’d be more worried for the ‘monsters’,” teased Dash. “Think for a minute, Applejack. Spy is getting so fast even I can’t catch her sometimes. Do you really think some timberwolf has a chance of getting a piece of her? She’s dead serious, and she’s so jacked with adrenaline they won’t get within a thousand feet without her ricocheting off rocks and trees and things. And do you remember what I was telling her?”

Applejack made a face. “You’re just feeding it, Rainbow, and that’s a fact. You got no business playing into such foolishness.”

Dash scoffed. “She listened, didn’t she? And I made sure to tell her how to pull her fellow superhero out of harm’s way. You saw. We practiced it! Rock Candy is still limping from some of those tackles, but you never saw a little colt so happy. And I’m happy too, because even if he doesn’t have spooky Pinkie powers warning him of danger, our Northern Spy can zip in and literally drag him out of trouble if anything bad attacks. Face it, Applejack, they’ll be safe enough. I told her not to try and sleep out there away from cover, she agreed to come home if they get tired or bored of it.”

“You told her to return to the Green Streak Secret Base!” accused Applejack.

“Got me there. It isn’t very secret,” admitted Rainbow Dash. “But I was talking her language. There’s nothing out there really, not like they think. Besides, if little Rock does have a Pinkie Sense, they’re probably even safer. Right?”

Applejack pouted. “Sure, if our baby didn’t make a habit of runnin’ TOWARD the danger…”

Dash’s ear perked, then Applejack’s.

“G’t one! I g’t one!” came the familiar voice.

In a moment, they were downstairs, the door flung open, and Northern Spy staggered toward them out of the gathering darkness, a wild gleaming light in her ruby eyes, and the end of a wriggling sack between her teeth. She dragged it as fast as she could, clearly wanting to trot with springy, proud steps, but impeded by her burden. Applejack paled, as a horrible unnatural cry emerged from the sack.

“Spy?” ventured Dash. “Whatcha got there, Spy?”

Northern Spy dragged the struggling sack right into the living room, and dropped it. “The monsters!” she declared.

“What, all of ‘em?” gawked Applejack. “In that one lil’ sack?”

Northern Spy blinked. “No. Take this one! Rock thinks he can find another! The Green Streak never rests!”

She grabbed the other end of the sack, and she gave it a yank, dumping out its contents—and just like that, she was gone, sack held tightly in her mouth.

“SPY!” yelled Applejack, galloping to the door, but too slow. “SPY! Consarn it!”

Behind her, she heard Rainbow Dash whimper. Slowly, she turned.

The monster was quite small. It flailed grisly limbs, and emitted another awful noise through the gory mess on top that made a mockery of the remaining patches of dirty fur. Rainbow Dash’s expression was memorable, her mouth turned down until it seemed to entirely leave her face. She cringed back in horror, and gave a little shriek as the horror began to feebly hop her direction, bent on…

Applejack blinked.

“That there’s a bunny,” she said flatly.

Rainbow scrabbled out of its way, her wings blasting the room with panicky gusts of wind as she got airborne and away from the monster. It hopped painfully on, until it bonked the wall, and then it stopped, confounded. Hyperventilating and almost clinging to the ceiling, Rainbow looked again.

It did resemble a bunny, if you ate parts of its legs and then ground it in the dirt for a while. However, there was one striking omission. It lacked a head. This didn’t seem to be stopping it from trying to hop through the wall, bent on some monstrous mission. It bonked the wall again, and fell over, and floundered, unable at first to rise.

Rainbow gulped. “What is it, a zombie? You call that a bunny, Applejack? What HAPPENED to it?!”

Applejack watched it twitching there for a moment. It made no move to attack her, or Rainbow. She watched as it made another horrible noise, causing Dash to cringe. She watched as it rose to its two-and-a-half remaining legs, and bonked the wall again, and fell over, helpless.

She took off her hat.

“I reckon it’s seen better days.”

The partial bunny wailed again, and continued to try and rise.