I Know Your Secret

The sun shone brightly upon Ponyville as Rarity trotted home to the Carousel Boutique. She smiled and paused to watch Twilight Sparkle fly overhead, bound toward the market, and then she resumed her progress to home and Derpy, anticipating the happy sight of the great love of her life.

She was surprised to encounter, instead, the great sub of her life.

Rarity blinked. “Trixie? To what do I owe the pleasure, darling?”

“May Trixie speak with you? Privately.”

“But of course!” cried Rarity. “I am quite at your disposal, my dear Trixie. Ah… though if you wish to have a special time with me, it would be well for us to negotiate things beforehand. I haven’t the provisions I used to have, and I fear I am out of practice. Ironic, really, when a third of my business is bridles and such, mailed in brown wrappers…”

“Please!” begged Trixie. “We should talk in your inner sanctum!”

Rarity winked a mascaraed eye. “Indeed! Well, darling, I shall not fail you. Somepony has been riding you hard, from the look of it! Is it Twilight, she asked knowingly?”

Trixie looked around hectically, and blurted, “That’s what Trixie has to talk about. Please, quickly!”

The playful smile dropped away from Rarity’s face. “Are you all right, Trixie? We have not started, yet you tremble. What do you need from me?”

Trixie’s gaze was imploring. “Your wisdom. Mistress.”

Rarity’s eyes widened. Her nostrils flared.

“Come with me,” she declaimed, and led Trixie Lulamoon straight to the Boutique’s Inner Sanctum.


“Now then… girl!” snapped Rarity, briskly. “Out with it! Your distress is apparent. Have you done something bad for which you should be punished?”

“It’s not like that,” said Trixie. “Er… not today? Trixie appreciates the offer, though.”

Rarity sagged. “Good heavens. You weren’t kidding, were you? What is going on, Trixie? Something is really bothering you, yet you aren’t going for the old standbys. I swear, I would happily whip you if you needed me to. I’m sure I remember where I hid the good whip.”

This got through Trixie’s distracted thoughts. “Hid?” she said. She looked around, in perplexity.

Rarity blushed. “Quite so. Derpy has never really understood the games we play. Ah… played, rather. I can tell it makes her unhappy to look at instruments of pain, so it seemed best to squirrel them away somewhere. Also, Sweetie Belle gets curious…” She blushed more. “What must you think of me? I’ve gone all soft.”

Trixie hastened to reassure her. “You’ll always be Trixie’s Mistress! If you want to be? You are the best, the greatest!”

Rarity snorted, a wry smile on her face. “Thank you, dear. But you’re not here over masochistic indulgences, apparently?”

Trixie’s eyes dropped. She pawed the floor with a forehoof, bashfully. “That… is a very complicated question.”

She was still trembling. Rarity studied her. Many times, she’d brought troubled ponies through to relief by Mistressing them to within an inch of their lives, stripping away their perverse wills and deceptions through her commanding presence. It was second nature, or had been.

However, her life with Derpy Hooves had opened her to a whole new vocabulary of emotion, a vocabulary of childish simpleness and artless unsophistication that could not have existed in the pleasure dungeons of Fillydelphia. Rarity felt this new language stir within her, as Trixie bit her lip and fretted.

“Trixie?” asked Rarity. “Do you need a hug?”

Trixie shook worse for a moment, and then gave in completely. She flung herself at Rarity with cries of “Mistress, Mistress!” and was wrapped up in a tight pony hug, Rarity’s hoof stroking her mane.

“That’s one for Derpy,” mused Rarity.

“What?”

“Never mind. Trixie, darling! I am here. Please, tell me what’s upsetting you! There, there. Rarity will make it all better.”

At this, Trixie struggled. “Too motherly!”

“Well, I AM a mother, darling!” snapped Rarity. “What would you have me do? I can still dig up the whip. I rather doubt I can combine that and this, mind you. Very well, I shan’t fuss and cosset. Tell me what is the matter, regardless. Tell me, tell me tell me tell me!”

Trixie whimpered. Rarity shook her. “Speak, girl!”

“Trixie should not let herself die for sex! No matter how much she wants to!” wailed Trixie Lulamoon, bursting into tears.

Rarity grew quiet, and firmly wrapped Trixie in a hug again. This time, the blue unicorn didn’t resist her, for the tone wasn’t of some false mother bearing no resemblance to Trixie’s doomed and departed real mother. It was much simpler, physical affection without affectation, and Trixie cried in Rarity’s determined embrace for a while as Rarity stared at the wall and thought.

Finally, Rarity slipped a hoof under Trixie’s chin, lifting it until she met Rarity’s gaze.

“Does this have to do with Twilight’s new powers, Trixie?”

Trixie’s gaze was miserable, sulky, guilty, yearning. She nodded.

“Tell me what has happened,” urged Rarity. “Have you been badgering her? I know you own one of my kinky unicorn hobblers, because I myself gave it to you. I would think that device renders you entirely protected from dear Twilight’s issue, unless you’ve broken it. I’ll get you another…”

Trixie shook her head frantically, and Rarity dodged her swinging horn with a grunt. “Well! If you don’t wish one that is your affair but I would have to recommend it. From your tales it sounds like Twilight’s release is truly dangerous, and it may not abate in our lifetimes. I’m not sure how long alicorn adolescence persists.”

“It is!” said Trixie. “And Trixie didn’t break anything, Trixie has the restrictor ring still. Mistress, that would be Twilight Mistress, rode Trixie the other night. Trixie tried to put on the restrictor ring and be safe…”

Rarity’d gone quiet. She stared at Trixie, who couldn’t meet her gaze, who was blushing an odd shade of purple.

“What happened, girl?”

Trixie’s lip quivered. “Mistress held it to the ground… and took me.” She gulped. “Mistress wanted to see Trixie squirt. She said she could control it.”

Rarity’s eyes darted to the end of Trixie’s horn, studying it for damage. But how much damage would a pent-up adolescent alicorn even do? It was flagrantly obvious they hadn’t arced. Trixie would be a smoking husk of a mare if they had.

“It would appear,” said Rarity, “that she did. Sooo… did Trixie ejaculate, then, as idiot darling Twilight wished?”

“Don’t call her—” began Trixie, but subsided right away at Rarity’s angry look.

“I could call her worse,” snorted Rarity, “for she deserves it. I love you dearly, Trixie Lulamoon, and I begin to see how this went down. You’re such a little pony slut for the hardcore, aren’t you?” She sighed heavily. “Answer. Did you? And you’d better tell me how it felt. It may sadden me, darling, but very little shocks me.”

Trixie nodded. “That’s why Trixie can tell you. Yes. Trixie has never come so hard, ever, in all her life. Trixie squirted on and on, expecting every moment that Twilight’s horn would cut loose and Trixie would d… d…” She gulped, shuddering. “I wanted her to, Rarity. She could have killed me. It was like she didn’t care. Why didn’t she care, Rarity?”

Rarity was frowning dreadfully. “I’m not sure you can go so far as to say that, girl. It’s not that Twilight Sparkle is uncaring, she cares very much and I know she loves you deeply. But you’ll remember, from the times we’ve had her submit, that Twilight is exceedingly wilful…”

“That’s it!” said Trixie. “She was angry because the other alicorns had called her the Alicorn of Self-Will. She demanded that Trixie call her Alicorn of Leadership, and then she decided to blow off steam mounting Trixie, and then she wanted to watch Trixie come!”

“Did she try to place the restrictor ring on herself?” demanded Rarity. “Which would be madness, if you ask me, they are not rated for that type of magical force and it would be instantly destroyed if she came through it. But did she try to do that?”

Trixie shook her head, her eyes huge and vulnerable. “She didn’t. She said she could handle it. She came inside Trixie, but Mistress’s horn didn’t go until Trixie was exhausted and her horn had run out. And then she blew up the WALL.”

Rarity, already white, looked extra pale. “Damn that girl. They’re right, she is self-will incarnate, always was. It makes her a hell of a top, but she’s never been a natural switch and if she loses touch with it entirely, I don’t know what will happen.”

“What does that mean?” begged Trixie. She was limp in Rarity’s embrace, utterly submissive.

“First tell me how you feel about all this,” snapped Rarity. “Be scrupulously honest!”

Trixie quivered against Rarity’s forelegs. “Nothing could ever be so exciting as being utterly in Twilight’s power. She can make Trixie come for hours, for days, and anytime she wishes, she can let go and Trixie would be incinerated in her raging horngasm. And she didn’t, and Trixie just gushed until she was wrung out, gushed herself dry and wanted to keep going and then that great horn cut loose and the heat washed Trixie’s face and Trixie wanted to find within herself just a tiny bit more magic, to just squirt a tiny amount more and then that unbearable flood would turn and g… go into her…”

Now Rarity looked a little green. She’d always been sensitive about taking horngasms, even the relatively safe ones of mortal ponies. She gritted her teeth and she hissed, “That’s why.”

“Huh?” blinked Trixie, tears spilling across her cheek.

“That’s why she’s self-will incarnate. She knows how masochistic you are, girl. She knows how hard you play! When you told me what was happening with Twilight, I rejoiced that you’d asked me for a restrictor ring, because I knew you’d be tempted. It’s not a normal situation. From what you tell me, it’s not normal even for alicorns! She’s like, like… those pegasus colts in the clubs, you know? When they hit puberty and their wings are stuck bolt upright and they’ve got five legs everywhere they go, and you can do any bloody thing to them as long as they can sink their cock in something warm and wet…”

Trixie sniffled. “We’re all a little like that, aren’t we?”

“There are degrees,” retorted Rarity. “Pegasus colts are easy to handle. It’s not like it matters if they’re on you every few minutes, they haven’t the girth of the bulkier earth ponies so it doesn’t hurt, and it’s rather cute to watch them show off. That’s just fun and ponies being ponies. Twilight Sparkle is on another level entirely. First: you may not entice her. Do you understand, girl? I will drive the lesson home any way I can. I love you like few other ponies and won’t sit by and see you endangered, even if it’s by your own weaknesses.”

Trixie nodded, humbly—all of her in Rarity’s sway, and obedient. “Yes, Mistress.”

“We’ll find ways to please you if this has left you pent-up, but you shall not play with Twilight in that way again. Not now, possibly not ever. Again, we cannot know whether Twilight will outgrow this phase in our lifetimes.”

“Yes, Mistress,” said Trixie, leaking a tear. “Do you want Trixie to go tell Twilight?”

Rarity frowned again. “I’m not sure she’ll take it from you. Hell, with that self-will business I’m not sure she’ll take dominance from me, even. You say she resents the suggestion? Of course she would, if it’s a little too accurate. That itself is a tip-off. Hmmm.”

“Do you want to tell Twilight, then?”

“I may enlist some rather special… help.”


Twilight pranced into the kitchen, levitating her groceries. It was wonderful how easy such things had become! A bundle of carrots, a gallon of milk, and even a sack of colorful rocks for decorating the garden. That grey earth pony that sold them to her had asked if she’d need help carrying them (though, by her flat and dull tone, she didn’t give a donkey’s ass either way).

Hah! Twilight’s energy was boundless and more than equal to carrying rocks, plus all her groceries. She didn’t even feel the weight, barely had to exert her horn to do it. She felt like bursting into song, or jumping over the house, or perhaps turning her mare to happy jelly, or possibly all at once. She felt a delicious tingle in her horn at the thought…

A knock sounded at the door, oddly hesitant and awkward. Twilight turned, puzzled. The knock sounded again.

“You know you can come in, right? I’m not stopping you,” she called.

She heard a soft murmur of conversation, then the knock came again.

“All right, what is it?” said Twilight. “If you’re here selling something, I…”

As she opened the door with her marvellous new horn, her jaw dropped.

Derpy Hooves stood, lip quivering and eyes moist with tears, in front of a pouting Trixie and a determined, imperious Rarity, who prodded Derpy’s butt gently with a hoof.

“Go on,” urged Rarity.

Derpy flapped awkwardly, and looked earnestly at Twilight and also a nearby hedge.

“Please don’t hurt my friend, Twilight Sparkle, even if it’s like a weird sex thing!”

“What.”

“Please don’t make my friend Trixie die!” begged Derpy Hooves.

Twilight glanced quickly back and forth among the three mares that faced her, and then fixated on one: Rarity. She cleared her throat and addressed the fashionable unicorn. “Rarity, just what do you call this?”

“Leverage, darling,” replied Rarity.

As Twilight opened her mouth to protest, Rarity cut her off.

“I also call it necessary. Do you disagree?”

Twilight’s eyes widened. She took in Trixie’s unhappy sullenness, the flash of Rarity’s eyes, Derpy’s obvious dismay.

“What did you tell them, Trixie?” she demanded.

Her heart sank, then, for Trixie turned that pout to face her and Twilight knew she’d crossed a line. Trixie said, “I told Rarity the truth about what we did, Mistress. Rarity needed to talk to you. She thought it would help if we brought Derpy.”

Twilight looked back at Derpy. The crosseyed pegasus was as adorable, and as distressed, as ever, and her gaze pleaded with Twilight, even as Twilight heard Trixie speak again, apologetic but firm.

“I don’t want to leave you that way, Mistress. None of us want that.”

Twilight stamped a hoof. “I had total control!”

“Even so,” said Rarity, staunchly. Trixie pouted. Derpy fluttered.

“Don’t you trust me? Don’t you believe in my powers?” protested Twilight.

“The point is that we should not have to trust you that much,” explained Rarity. “Please don’t risk Trixie again, that way. We can’t leave it up to her, you know her weaknesses. You know Trixie plays with edges, Twilight.”

“I can leave her a WRUNG-OUT PUDDLE without a spark of magic left in her helpless body!” raged Twilight.

Rarity stood her ground, though Derpy flinched. Trixie staggered, and moaned, her eyes going dazed and a drip of lube hitting the ground as her pussy commenced frantic winking. “Look at that,” countered Rarity, “look at her! You cannot expect our Trixie to play safe with you when you’ve grown so very dominant…” She trailed off. Derpy was advancing on Twilight, though obviously frightened.

Derpy reared, placing her hooves on Twilight’s shoulders, looking her deep in the eyes. “Please don’t be scary, Princess Twilight Sparkle?”

Twilight met Derpy’s gaze. She gulped. Her mighty wings flapped in chagrin, and she began to blush.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Does this mean you agree?” cried Rarity. “Please, please agree!”

“Yeah,” grumbled Twilight, “okay. If it means that much to you. Even though I can totally handle it!”

“But we aren’t arguing that,” said Rarity quickly. “We are begging you to have a heart, darling, and not frighten us. And furthermore we’re pleading with you to be merciful and not tease our beloved Trixie, submissive extraordinare.” She gulped. “Honestly, darling, I rather understand her plight. Thank heavens she came to me! Twilight Sparkle, you’ve become a walking fantasy figure and your capacities are more than we mortal unicorns should meddle with. Even I see the dark appeal of your enhanced, ah, performance. We can only implore you not to seduce dear Trixie into indiscretions so terribly dangerous.”

“It’s not,” protested Twilight, flapping distractedly.

“We can trust you implicitly, darling,” added Rarity in haste, “but can you trust her? Look at her! Sweet Celestia, Twilight, you know my history and even I find myself imagining what Trixie went through, with myself in her place! It is dangerous. What if she thought to have just a taste, what if she reserved a tiny drab of magic left over and opened the channel to take on what you put out?” Rarity trembled. “Dear Celestia, we would burn. We’d be just a few scraps of unicorn left over—a vagina, a hoof and a tail! It’s not proper. Please don’t tempt us with fantasies that should not be!”

“Nooo!” wailed Derpy, hugging Rarity. “I don’t want you to be just a vagina and hoof and a tail! I want all of your parts to stay!”

“That,” said Rarity bravely, “depends on whether Twilight will be merciful and promise to stay good.”

She stared down the alarmed alicorn. Twilight’s gaze narrowed.

“This is manipulative, even for you, Rarity.”

“The stakes are high, even for you, Twilight Sparkle,” replied Rarity.

Twilight’s gaze dropped. “Fine! I’m not stupid, I know what you’re asking. So, no more Trixiegasm for Twilight, huh? I can’t watch that, ever? It’s like the most beautiful thing. It IS the most beautiful thing.”

“You are, indeed, not stupid,” said Rarity. “We can have Trixie fountain magic for your pleasure, all you like. What you cannot do is watch this sight while holding back your own devastating magical issue.”

“When I say beautiful,” retorted Twilight, “I mean she’s the sexiest mare alive and she is my mate, and watching her come is my fetish. What do you say to that?”

Rarity gulped, shying away from Twilight’s intensity. “I would have to say, I’m terribly sorry. It’s just not safe. Must we beg more?”

Twilight hung her head. “No. I get it. Yeah, very observant. You know when I had her on the end of a dick squirting magic, she really did go bonkers for longer than I’d have believed possible… just thinking I would light. Her. Up.”

Trixie whimpered, dripping lube down the inside of her leg at the thought.

“Can you be good?” pressed Rarity.

“I think she’d tell you that was amazingly good.”

Rarity grimaced. “Can you be safe?”

“How many times do I have to say I will before you’ll believe me?” grumbled Twilight, her mood cratering.


“How many times do I have to say it before you’ll believe me?” said Fluttershy, sulking.

“Awww, flippylippy!” said Pinkie Pie.

“I mean it, Pinkie Pie. I’ve put it behind me. I am all yours and it hurts my feelings that you keep on bringing it up.”

“Well, it hurts my feelings when you’re bitchy and mad all the time!” squeaked Pinkie, tears coming to her eyes. She quivered, a bizarre series of tremors flitting through her body, and then sagged. “Sorry.”

Fluttershy’s jaw was set. “Maybe I would be happier if you believed in my love for you. I can’t possibly explain how much it means to me. You and dear Rock Candy are life itself to me and I have made my decision, and it breaks my heart that you can’t believe in my love. It’s all I have, and it is the most important fact in my life.”

“It’s not that,” grumbled Pinkie, her ear twitching. The Sense had been freaking out for at least a week, and she felt exhausted and ragged with bad nerves. “It’s just… if you could be more honest!”

Fluttershy gasped. “I DO love you! How can you doubt that? Why must you accuse me of…”

“Shut it, flutterbutter,” grumped Pinkie Pie, her eye twitching. “We both know I’m not talking about that.”

“What do you…” began Fluttershy, and froze. Pinkie had skewered her with a glance.

“I know your secret,” said the pink earth pony, with weary bitterness.

Her eyes widened, then, and kept going until they were bugged out in astonishment.

Fluttershy had gone chalk white. She couldn’t even breathe. She stared at Pinkie as if she’d turned into a particularly hideous monster, and the stark terror poured off her as their silence stretched out. Pinkie could see it, could feel the horrible crushing panic in her beloved mare, and for a moment she thought she’d killed the gentle pegasus with just four words. Fluttershy couldn’t even scream, she just stared, unable to blink…

“You,” accused Pinkie, “want to get GANG-BANGED.”

Fluttershy’s mouth dropped open. No sensible sounds came out, just a feeble croak of disbelief. Pinkie could tell her brain had just shorted out, bigtime.

“The jig’s up, honey,” said Pinkie. “Rarity told on you, and you’re busted. I believed her, too. You want to get pregnant again, from pretty much all the stallions we can get our hooves on. And you want it rough and rowdy and not nice at all.”

She gulped. “And you know what?”

Fluttershy looked stunned. She licked her lips with her cute little scrap of a tongue. “What?” she said.

“I’m pretty sure I can love that foal too,” said Pinkie Pie.

The reaction was worth the strain, worth that unexplained terror. Fluttershy stared and stared, her eyes so wide, her wings slowly rising as she registered what her beloved mate was telling her, why she was being told it—and who had contrived to have Pinkie Pie sitting there and suggesting a savage Flutter-fucking by a herd of wild stallions. It took ages. The most magical moment was when Fluttershy’s shocked, open mouth began to curve into a smile that grew madder and wilder and more full of glee and demented joy, and her eyes began to shine with a light that had been absent for weeks and months…

“Eeeee!” squealed Fluttershy. “Eeeeee! Pinkie, eeeeee!”

“C’mere,” said Pinkie Pie, and in an instant she was bowled over with ecstatic pegasus, her face snuggled feverishly in soft feathers. Fluttershy was beside herself with delight, unable to hold still. Pinkie wept unashamedly to see it.

“I have wanted to see you happy,” she managed, “for so long, lubbywubbysnugglesons…”

“I love you I love you I love you so much,” babbled Fluttershy. She squealed again. “I’m gonna have another foal! We are!”

“You totally are!” swore Pinkie. “For us! And you’re gonna have it your way. Rarity explained everything.”

Fluttershy batted her long, silky eyelashes. “Um, that’s okay. To bring new life is enough, really!”

“Nuh-uh,” insisted Pinkie. “I saw how you reacted. No, baby, this one’s for you. I’m not sure I can watch. I’d like to, for you, but it might put a damper on things. I don’t want you to have to settle.”

“Explain yourself, Pinkie Pie,” said Fluttershy. “With what you are offering, how can you claim I have to settle? You’re giving me permission to bear another foal.” She blushed happily, and snuggled up to Pinkie.

“You know, I think I’d like to,” said Pinkie. “Explain, I mean. You can tell me if I’m getting it wrong, and don’t be mad if it’s difficult for me. I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Hear me out.”

Fluttershy turned lush, adoring eyes upon her. “Go ahead, Pinkie. I’m listening. I will always listen to you.”

Pinkie wriggled around to direct an accusing gaze right back. “It seems like you should listen to yourself a little more, Fluttershy!”

“Of course not,” reproved the gentle pegasus. “Now tell me what you’ve been thinking.”

Pinkie took a deep breath, then glanced at her beloved. “You gotta forgive me if it sounds obnoxious! I’m trying my best to understand and I don’t know if I can make it sound nice. You’re nice—mostly—but to me this is kinda yucky.”

Fluttershy’s saintly demeanor was unruffled. “You could never be obnoxious, dear Pinkie Pie. Talk to me. Before Rock wakes up and interrupts us, or something else happens to distract you.”

“Right,” said Pinkie. She took another deep breath. “Straight mares are kind of insane!” She darted a nervous look at Fluttershy.

Fluttershy was unperturbed. “Go on, my love. How so?”

“Well, it just seems like that to me,” admitted Pinkie Pie. “It looks very much like straight mares want stallions to bite their butts and get all bossy and I’ve been trying to understand what’s so great about that, ‘cos it keeps happening and I’m a nice mare and it just seems crazy that they don’t want somepony who really truly cares about them and their feelings.”

Fluttershy regarded her gravely. “You don’t believe it’s only that, do you?”

Pinkie shook her head. “No! Because I know from you that it totally still matters, right? Straight mares really do need a friend. Somepony who really cares about them, who pays attention. It might even be somepony who is more important in certain ways than the sex-pony. You know what I mean? Like BFFs. There for the long haul. And then there’s the sexy ones, I mean sexy to you and not to me, who are just greedy hungry males and they don’t even care but there’s something that must be special about them too…”

The gentle pegasus’s gaze didn’t waver. “And what do you think that is, Pinkie Pie?”

Pinkie frowned in concentration. “They’re like sex-bringers. They’re super unconnected. But… well, a mare likes to build her home and care for her foals. And when it’s two mares like us, we’re always fussing over how to raise our foal, and what to do with the house, and I don’t know but isn’t it different with big strong dumb stallions who don’t understand such things?”

“Go on,” said Fluttershy encouragingly.

“What I mean is,” continued Pinkie in a rush, “it’s like you can connect to a big dumb stallion and feel the warmth of his sexual desire but then you turn around and he doesn’t need much from you. You get to define the way the relationship feels and it’s like you’re the boss of the caring stuff and he’s not telling you how to do it. You know? You put all of the caring and the loving part in, and it’s like your thing and your part of it, and he’s there giving you sex and lifting heavy things or whatever, but he’s not telling you how to love, he’s just telling you TO love. To love him. By having a lot of sex, mostly, and thinking he’s all great and wonderful. And since you feel good about being in a relationship and feeling it’s great and wonderful, it kind of works, even when he’s a dumb jerk, because you want the same things. You want to be a loving mare and he wants you to be a loving mare. And you’re not asking him to be loving because that’s not his job.”

“And what is his job?” suggested Fluttershy.

Pinkie sagged. “Um, that’s where you lose me. I still don’t see the point.”

“I’m surprised at you, Pinkie Pie,” said Fluttershy, “because you’re quite good at it yourself. Maybe it’s hard for you to see because you’re too similar?”

“Am not!” squeaked Pinkie. “I am not either similar to guy sex, my tongue is way better!”

She hesitated, as Fluttershy’s hoof had touched her lips to silence her.

“I receive,” said Fluttershy. “It’s very important. You keep talking about me wanting things, me being the boss of caring, and that tells me how difficult it is for you to understand. You keep asking me to have opinions and make choices, but haven’t you seen how pleased I am when you just take control? In bed you are continually doing it, yet you pester me for reactions and ask my permission.”

“Pester you?” wailed Pinkie. “It’s about being nice, and caring how you feel!”

Fluttershy looked amazingly grim for such a gentle pony. “I know, but now you come offering a rough stallion scene, and you want to give me the gift of that and the foals I’d conceive, and then you say you can’t watch. I am very sorry, but it’s time you understood what these things mean or your heart will be broken by it. That, or you’ll ruin my fun. And you can’t promise so much and then take it away again, that’s just not fair.”

Pinkie’s lip quivered. “I don’t want to ruin your fun. How can I love you so much, and give my whole life to you, and still we don’t understand each other?”

At that, Fluttershy winced. “You’re right. It’s one of THOSE conversations. I have no business inflicting them on you, and I should just be quiet and behave myself.”

She squeaked. Pinkie was shaking her.

“Tell me about this fun!” demanded the party pony. “This fun I can’t give! Except maybe I can, you said I’m good at it, what the heck are you talking about? Fluttershyyy!”

“Be quiet, you’ll wake Rock Candy!” protested Fluttershy. “Quiet! Listen. I should have explained this long ago.”

Pinkie’s heart was pounding. “Yes, you should. Cough it up, lovetunnel. What’s fun?”

Fluttershy cleared her throat. She held Pinkie’s gaze as she spoke.

“Being mastered. I told you you’re good at it, and then you stop and ask my permission or how it feels. I don’t want to be asked, Pinkie Pie. I want to be driven. My opinion shouldn’t matter. My place is standing like a real mare, totally submissive, and I am the fertile field that the stallions plow. I don’t have to ask if they are pleased because they don’t hold back. I can’t disappoint them or do things wrong if they are real stallions and prepared to take everything they want.”

She trembled, and her wings were stubbornly lifting, going more and more erect.

“I’ve never had a real stallion, not the way I imagine it,” continued Fluttershy. “I mean, physically I am not complaining, Big Macintosh in particular was very impressive, but I straddled him and that is not how it should go. It’s not right for me to loom above the stallion, lowering myself onto him like… like some predatory beast!” She shuddered eloquently. “No! The male should be the beast. Then I can be all mare for him. I should not even have to ask. I don’t WISH to ask.”

Pinkie was paler, but didn’t look away.

“If you can’t understand this,” said Fluttershy gravely, “then you should not watch. For once in my… for even just ONE TIME, Pinkie Pie, I want to give myself to a stallion or many stallions the way I imagine it. I want their teeth nipping my rump until I am completely unresisting. I want them to seize me and plunge into me without pausing to ask how I am feeling. I don’t want to feel! I want to surrender like I have never surrendered before, and I want them to use me like the filthy refuse I am, and leave me barely standing, my head drooping in exhaustion, my body completely saturated with their strong healthy pony semen. I don’t want to choose who is to impregnate me, I want all of them—better, I want the strongest and boldest to dominate all the others as well as me, and seize me and fill me with his come! And then drop me!”

Pinkie’s eyes were terribly wide, like she was bearing witness to unthinkable things. Fluttershy’s vehement, flashing eyes reflected in Pinkie’s wide, stunned ones.

Fluttershy was panting, fervent. “I want to be a cum dumpster, Pinkie Pie, the corrupt and lowly soil from which beautiful foals can grow, redeemed by the life I bring to the world, and I want to be tilled by the stallions ruthlessly, do you hear me? They’ll tear me apart! I want them ravaging me until I’m pouring come and blood… um, provided of course it doesn’t get in the way of me fulfilling my function, because it would be bad if they injured my womb and the foal didn’t take. I suppose they could do a lot of damage brutally ravaging me as long as my womb stayed unharmed…”

“You’re not filthy refuse,” mumbled Pinkie Pie.

“What?” said Fluttershy, taken aback.

“You’re…” began Pinkie, and then she began to weep, and Fluttershy frantically cuddled her in an agony of remorse.

“Oh, Pinkie!” cried Fluttershy. “I hurt you! I should not have trusted you with this. I will have to speak to Rarity, she has no business ferreting out private fantasies. It’s okay! I’ll never say mean things again, I promise!”

Pinkie sobbed, snuggled close to the wonderful softness of her dream mare, enfolded in fluffy yellow wings that wrapped her. She nuzzled the tender softnesses, feeling the flood of motherly compassion washing her. Nopony and nothing could comfort like Fluttershy: she had a mysterious and potent ability to soothe, perhaps akin in some way to her Stare. Pinkie had occasionally seen the Stare when one of Fluttershy’s animals got recalcitrant. Generally it was unnecessary, for Fluttershy’s pets were just as much in thrall to her as Pinkie herself was…

Pinkie shook her head.

“Fluttershy,” she said firmly, her eyes still running with tears. “Fluttershy, you are CRAZY! And you know what else you are?”

The gentle pegasus gasped, and tensed against her, again staring speechless.

“You’re the most outrageously straight mare I ever saw,” said Pinkie Pie, “and all your crazy is just like the way dumb straight mares are crazy. And I still love you forever, and I am gonna heal you… but do you really want all that rough stuff?”

“Yes,” said Fluttershy sulkily. “I told you that.”

“Is this how come some mares get with mean stallions and get pushed around by them and treated bad?”

“I can’t speak for m… other mares,” said Fluttershy. “Perhaps. It all makes very good sense to me and if you only knew… It makes better sense than you know. I’m not a pony to go around telling stallions how they should be. If they are brutal, it only goes to show that they are dominant and prepared to conquer, and I wish to be conquered.”

Pinkie wiped her tears. “Ripplecheeks, I’m not sure you can call it conquering. You never put up any sort of a fight.”

“Of course not,” said Fluttershy. “What would I be if I did such a thing as that? It wouldn’t be proper at all. Why would I even want to fight, if a real stallion decided to take me and plow me and make me his mare? I would like all stallions to do that. If there was such a thing as heaven for me, that would be it. They could fill me up and trample me under and I would be the fertile earth, bursting with life again. I mean, with foals!”

Pinkie’s ear twitched, then her eye. Tremors seemed to be flitting through her body, but she shook them off. “You’re definitely my crazy straight mare,” she said. “Look at you, wanting to be the pony earth mother. Or the earth pony mother?”

Fluttershy winced. “If only.”

“Aw!” said Pinkie. “I know you fell in love with the ground and try not to use your wings, but you’d really want to become an earth pony?”

A darkness had passed over Fluttershy’s face, but it subsided, to be replaced by her usual saintly demeanor. “Indeed I would, if they would have me. I adore you, and Rock, and of course all the burly rough stallions, and I would gladly be a pony. Earth pony,” she specified. Her gaze was luminous. “You are precious, wonderful creatures and I love you so much, I wish I could remain with the ground forever.”

“The way you said that feels like more crazy,” suggested Pinkie Pie, her ears perking forward.

Fluttershy pouted. “I’m only trying to explain why I love you so much.”

“And the crude earth pony stallions?” said Pinkie. She thought, making a face. “I think some of the farm ponies can be real crude. I don’t know if any of them are super big meanies like you wanted. I really wonder how much of that you need, and how much is just you being a crazy straight mare making up fantasies.”

Fluttershy pouted worse, adorably. “It’s not for me to need things. I’ll be fine.”

“You hush,” urged Pinkie. “I know you by now. Auntie Pinkie’s gonna think up something that can get your rocks off bigtime.”

“Really?” said Fluttershy in a small, winsome voice, peering from under her big lush eyelashes.

“I still have you, though?”

“I will never abandon you,” vowed Fluttershy. “My love is yours, forever.”

“Then Pinkie is gonna have to think of a very special sort of party,” said Pinkie Pie. “A Give Fluttershy Her Big Fetish party. Especially since you set me up with Cloud Chaser and those other pegasi! I have some catching up to do. And it’s going to be a real workout… but you know the first rule of being a party expert.”

“Don’t get silly string on the carpets?” suggested Fluttershy, stroking Pinkie with her wing.

“Nope!” said Pinkie. “You give ponies the party they want, not the party you would want. I learned that from my sister Maud, long ago, though it’s hard because I’m so great at the parties I would want! And Maud would be happy with me for making the effort with you.”

“I love you so much,” sighed Fluttershy. She hesitated, glancing sidelong at her mate, and added, “…you’d really let me have a bunch of stallions?”

“How many?” challenged Pinkie.

Fluttershy’s wings lifted. “Many. Unbathed. Sweaty. Can they be drunk, and rowdy?”

Pinkie scratched her chin with a hoof. “Dunno. Maybe I can get some of the Apples’ special cider?”

Fluttershy gave a jolt at the word ‘cider’, and a horrified look. “But not Rainbow Dash! I don’t want marepenises if I can get stallions with real seed and sweat and…”

She eeped, for Pinkie’d put a hoof to her lips.

“I get it, I get it,” winked the party pony. “Leave it to me. I don’t know if I can get them as greedy as you want them, though, even with cider.”

Fluttershy wriggled, flicking her tail. “Leave that to me,” she said, with a smug little smile.

“You crazy penis-slut,” snickered Pinkie. “Straightest of straight mares! You’re so straight you’re, like, incredibly twisted and crooked. What do you think of that?”

Fluttershy wriggled happily, nestling against Pinkie. “Mmm.”

“That sounded happy,” suggested Pinkie.

“Mmm.”

They cuddled for a while, and then Pinkie had a thought.

“Why were you THAT scared, Fluttershy?”

“Mmm?”

“It just seems like, when I told you I knew your secret…”

Fluttershy tensed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“About being GANGBANGED!” insisted Pinkie. “I thought you knew me well enough. I mean, it was kind of hard to explain, but you do remember how excited I get about you being pregnant, right? You should have known you could explain it that way.”

“I remember,” said Fluttershy guardedly.

“And since the secret is you wanting to be bred by whole teams of ponies, even if you want it kinda mean and rough, you should know I would be down with that, right? That I would give in and say yes, because you with foal is so special?”

“Uh-huh?”

“So what,” said Pinkie Pie, “is so pee-yourself go-white almost-faint terrifying about you wanting to get pregnant again?”

Fluttershy hesitated, not meeting Pinkie’s curious gaze.

“…nothing.”

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