Switch, Thrown

Trixie lay on Twilight’s bed, and thought about things.

Specifically, she thought about the way her tied-up hooves hurt.

It had been years since she’d hurt quite this way, this particular blend of humiliation and soreness—hogtied on a bed and abandoned, while another unicorn went about her business and ignored her. Twilight didn’t tie her up as tightly as Aftershock had, but it was pretty close, close enough to give serious flashbacks.

But then, Twilight Sparkle wasn’t tying her up for the same reasons. Twilight Sparkle didn’t know who Trixie had been, lifetimes ago, she only knew who Trixie had become after years of hopelessly fleeing and being caught by her fate.

And now, the fate had gone, and she was caught by Twilight Sparkle, who was a very nice boring straight mare—except for when she wasn’t.

Trixie, though she was invisible, had seen what happened when Twilight’s stallion girl had laid her. The unicorn-gasm had gone on for an unthinkable four seconds—four! and then blown out in an even brighter flash. Trixie was sick with envy, hearing the sounds, seeing the arc of magic-jism squirting above the balcony. It was so pretty. Once, she had performed for her Aftershock in such a way, before the magic bit had made the haughty unicorn her unwilling puppet, had forced the spectacular dom to switch roles—and had destroyed their relationship at a stroke.

Trixie knew now that Aftershock had been unsafe, the whole time. She’d had no off switch, and truly did not care for Trixie, using her and enjoying her quivering submission unreservedly—that was the trouble, really. It was too exciting, and Trixie had been willing to do anything for her lover, absolutely anything, mad with devotion, squirting magic in squealing ecstasy in each scene until she was exhausted.

Even after the abrupt, total rejection—the bridge too far, taken when the bit compelled Aftershock to act out a swooning fealty to Trixie’s body—even after that, Trixie knew she would never belong to another in quite that way.

It offended her that Twilight was pushing her buttons while still being an obvious wimpy squealing twinkpony, and Trixie vowed that she would find a way to bring on the hurt. Twilight would not be her mistress—such an insult would not be borne. Trixie would bring this Twilight pony to grovelling ruin, in punishment for bringing up good memories that had been a happy lie.

Hoofsteps approached up the stairs. Trixie prepared for battle.

“I hope alfalfa is going to be okay for breakfast?” called Twilight, trotting into view with a tray. “It’s what I have and it doesn’t look like you keep a special diet of any sort. Um… I’m sorry, that was rude, I was just going by your plumpness. Oh gosh, that was more rude…”

“No,” said Trixie, “rude is keeping Trixie in captivity through threats and implications you haven’t specified.”

“Well, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go, and I need you here,” said Twilight. “You’d probably lie to me and sneak off, so here we are. If we can solve the problem together, I won’t need you, but right now I need you very badly. That’s new, right?”

“Trixie wishes an explanation for that remark. Not the having nowhere else to go—that is obvious. Trixie wishes to know what is ‘new’ about needing her amazing powers.”

“That’s another thing!” said Twilight. “You’re going to get on my nerves with the third person talking. I’ve been thinking about the things you’ve said, and I’m hoping I can offer a sort of bargain. You help me solve my problem, and I’ve got books on abnormal psychology and stuff—I can help fix your mind.”

Trixie blinked. “What?”

“I was reading up on the third person business! It’s plain as day—you’re depersonalizing yourself because of the terrible things you’ve done through the magic bit. The dead giveaway was the dead ponies you mentioned—there’s case history of other ponies who’ve caused deaths and retreated into strange mental states. Our psychology doesn’t seem to take to that sort of thing. The refuge in considering the self as a third party not directly responsible for the acts is like, like…”

“Like the refuge in psychological babble when you are trapping and torturing a pony for your own selfish benefit?” suggested Trixie.

Twilight’s lip quivered. “T… torturing?”

“You tied Trixie too tight. Trixie’s hooves hurt, Twilight Sparkle.”

“If I loosen them, will you promise not to run away?”

Trixie smiled, and Twilight’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re not even trying to look innocent. Let me rephrase that. If I loosen them, will you run away?”

“Yes,” said Trixie, proudly.

Twilight glared at her. “I’m gonna have to go back to those books. What’s the matter with you? I thought you’d have the decency to play innocent, and then I’d outwit you. You know nothing about the guards I’ve set on this place and you’re not good enough to escape. Now it turns out you’re not even going to pretend to be innocent?”

“You’re the innocent, Twilight Sparkle. Trixie has no innocence left for anypony, least of all a selfish renegade jailer and torturer.”

“Again with the torturer! Your hooves can’t hurt that badly. Applejack showed me how to do it when we caught Fluttershy, and it didn’t hurt her a bit.”

“What would you do,” said Trixie, “if Trixie told you her ankles were weak from an old injury, and that what would not harm another pony has her in agony?”

Twilight gulped. “Are you? I mean, does it… has it?”

Trixie smirked. “What if Trixie held you in such contempt—or mistrust—as to conceal this agony, hoping only that she could flee and nurse her ankle, but refusing to reveal any such weakness to her torturer?”

Twilight glared. She hesitated, and then prodded Trixie’s bound ankles with a hoof. There was no reaction.

“You’re faking. You’re fine,” she said.

There was an unsettling pause.

“You,” replied Trixie, “just dared to kick at a broken ankle to see if it was a lie.” She blinked. “Trixie IS impressed.”

Twilight stared, dumbly, her eyes very wide.

Trixie licked her lips. She smirked.

“Twilight Sparkle—you’re going to be a very special friend to Trixie. Now go away.”

Twilight’s nerve cracked, just for a moment, and she whirled and trotted down the stairs. She stopped, halfway, and declared, “I’m going to READ my BOOKS more! You’re sick in the head, Trixie!”

“And you are a lovely torturer, Twilight!” called Trixie. “Trixie is going to have such fun with you!”

The unicorns strained, exerting their magic, and gradually a shower of sparkles congealed and formed into another gleaming, metallic bit.

Trixie sagged, still bound, her head drooping against the bed. Twilight took a quill and made a check on her list. “Right. That’ll be our control. It’s another one that explodes when the user is in love, same as the first—and now that I’ve got another one of those available, I feel better about altering the design. We’re going to have to find another kind of psychic anchor because the combination of my love and your hunger and selfishness is too hard to work with. They don’t really blend. Do you agree?”

“She doesn’t love you,” said Trixie, not lifting her head.

Twilight blinked. “What? Maybe you weren’t paying attention—when I tied in the element of love, it became volatile. They blow up when love is present, it’s the bailout condition! We did that on purpose to defuse the curse, don’t you remember?”

“It’s a short circuit. It doesn’t even matter who uses it. Once it’s done acting, it short-circuits and blows up,” said Trixie bitterly. “They all will. You learned nothing, and she doesn’t love you. She loves that pegasus and you know it.”

Twilight stared at Trixie. “How dare you? Why would you even say that? Wait, let me make a wild, wild guess here—to hurt me. Well, it’s not working!”

Trixie smirked bitterly. “Of course it’s working. Trixie is no fool, Twilight Sparkle. It will eat away at you. How will ever you know peace again? What could you possibly do to set your pathetic mind at ease?”

Twilight stood very still, and stared at Trixie without blinking, her mind whirring frantically.

“Assuming that is not a rhetorical question, and taking into consideration your perverted evilness…” said Twilight.

“Trixie appreciates that, by the way. You’re entrancingly clever, for a squealing twink-pony.”

“…you’re implying that I’d better test this thing out by getting fucked by someone who doesn’t love me. You’re a piece of work, Trixie.”

“Thank you. Trixie tries.”

Twilight considered this, distracted from her racing thoughts by other racing thoughts. “The payoff for you is humilating me, yes?”

“Oh, you deserve it. And it won’t even work, Trixie told you. They all explode, and you have no grounds for concluding Applejack loves you at all. Trixie thought her voice sounded extremely uncomfortable, if you ask Trixie.”

“I didn’t,” snapped Twilight. “Oh gosh. I’m sure I could ask Dash, but of all the ponies not to drag into this… and the last thing I want to do is let word get out about this little twist to things… hah! Here’s a thought. You made it, you use it! You obviously don’t fucking love me, and you’re too soft and weak to be hung like Applejack so it wouldn’t do me any harm. I’ll make you do it!”

“Oh, very well! Untie Trixie and she will service your worthless carcass! The bit will still explode. Go on! The sooner we begin the sooner it will be over!”

Twi didn’t move.

“Not so fast. You gave in too easy. Untie you, huh? Keeping ahead of you is a workout. And I warned you about the third person stuff! It’s still getting on my nerves. Well, Miss Great And Powerful Trixie, tell me: is this all an elaborate ruse?”

“Of course,” said Trixie, with a gleeful smirk.

“If I untie you… will you run away?”

“Of course.”

Twilight’s eyes narrowed. “And naturally I couldn’t believe you even if you’d lied just then, but since you’re just as happy to admit it, then I guess your true intention… oh no. This is all to get a taste of ME?”

Trixie sniffed. “Trixie must break the monotony somehow.”

“Errrhhhh!” growled Twilight. “You’re impossible! I don’t even want to be a stallion!”

“Says the pony,” teased Trixie, “who came trotting up to Trixie’s tent with a shocking erection. Says the pony who mounted Trixie and humped until she was almost lost to the curse. Don’t even try to play innocent, Twilight Sparkle. You probably fucked that Applejack mare all night long.”

“I did not! She’s my stallion!”

“She is not yours, she is the blue pegasus’s, she cares nothing for you at all and is only being polite,” said Trixie in a singsong, cruel voice.

“You’re starting to really piss me off,” snarled Twilight, pawing the ground as if she wanted to charge Trixie’s prostrate body.

“Enjoy your fantasy for as long as you can… well, as long as you could.”

“I fucking hate you,” said Twilight, trembling.

Trixie turned her head and looked directly at Twilight for the first time. “Then you’re ready to try hate fucking, aren’t you? You have so much to learn, Twilight. Your rage will be delicious, as delicious as your tears afterward when the bit explodes and you know that Applejack could have hated you just as badly. Perhaps it IS hate that became the bailout condition. Oh, Trixie can see in your eyes that you’re beginning to wonder! And there is only one way to find out.”

Twilight stared, gritting her teeth.

“Or are you also cowardly?” said Trixie. “A torturer who is proud not to be a rapist. That’s just wonderfully virtuous, isn’t it?”

“You’re doing that on purpose,” rasped Twilight. “For whatever reason, you’re trying to get me to have sex with you, and you’ll say anything to get it. Why?”

“Trixie understands this…”

Twilight’s horn glowed. Trixie gulped. A magic grip had touched her neck.

“Say ‘I’. Right now. Why are you doing this—in first person. Right fucking now.”

Trixie’s eyes widened in a glare of defeat and triumph.

“This is my world. Being like this. You force Tr… me, to work in your world. I will force you to enter mine.”

“Oh, you will, will you?”

“You have no choice, Twilight Sparkle. You have to know the answer, don’t you? It’s the same formula. It’s effectively the same bit. And Trixie will laugh at you when the thing explodes in your silly face!”

“FINE!” yelled Twilight. “Fine! I’m not impressed! I’ve read about much weirder stuff than this and you’re not going to intimidate me! You’re a damn sadist and I’m gonna turn the tables on you, how do you like that?”

“So wise,” sneered Trixie.

“The bit doesn’t care if I think you stink. It’ll work anyway. I’m gonna do it. Applejack showed me how, our very first time. Have fun! You’re lying to me and I’m gonna prove it, Trixie. Where’d that thing go?”

“Can’t imagine,” yawned Trixie.

“Aha!” cried Twilight, and pounced. The bit floated into view, and Twilight snapped it out of the air with her teeth, her eyes flashing. “Y’r g’nna get it! U’ll try to be g’ntle… oh, who c’res!”

Twilight jumped onto the bed, shaking Trixie’s body. She lay down, spooning the other unicorn mare, and began trying to wriggle herself into position. “Uhhh… y’ bett’r h’ld still.”

“And what if Trixie does not?”

Twilight snarled, teeth baring around the bit, and Trixie held still.

It was a completely unfamiliar sensation for Twilight, shifting and angling her hips to try and aim a penis. She prodded Trixie’s rump, concentrated, and then felt something wet against the end of her cock. It was slippery. Twilight pushed, experimentally, and the end of her stallionhood, still mostly unflared, slipped in.

“Y’r wet,” she said.

“Maybe Trixie is pissing on you. Rapist,” said Trixie, trembling.

“Ugh, Tr’xie!” said Twilight, gagging. She thought for a moment, then continued, “Y’r lying. As usual. The v’scosity isn’t right for that. Y’r body is reacting. I’ve read about this…”

“You read about rapists?”

“Sh’t up! Do you th’nk I don’t have a mem’ry or s’mething? You spent ten m’nutes goading me into this. You pr’bably like it. You’re sick in the head and this ‘s what you wanted…”

“Trixie suggests you read about rationalizations,” sneered the bound, penetrated unicorn.

Twilight shook her head.

“Y’ lubricated. Gave you ‘nough time f’r that to happ’n. Just ‘s well. Though at th’s point I r’lly don’t give a damn… in fact…”

The bit of cloth that had been Trixie’s gag floated off the bed again in Twilight’s magic grip. It wound around Trixie’s muzzle, tightly. Trixie’s eyes widened.

“Y’re done talking. Y’ said you’d force me to ent’r your world? W’lcome to your world, bitch.”

With that, Twilight Sparkle pressed her hips forward.

It was so strange, so different. Twilight felt a sharp regret that she was experiencing this first time in such a tainted, wrong way—but reminded herself that it wasn’t just maleness she was experiencing for the first time. She was trying to get some kind of leverage on a sadistic and twisted pony, and in some way was doing what that pony wanted, and most importantly, she was going to find out the truth of Trixie’s assertions. Trixie had left no doubt about that—if the bit blew, the bitch had to be right about it, and Twilight’s world would be shattered. One way or another, the assumption had to be tested. It was scientific.

Trixie moaned as Twilight’s slim stallionhood sunk deeper into her. The gag prevented her from speaking intelligibly, but she had to be able to breathe, and she moaned through her nose, quivering. With rage? Served her right. She was very wet inside. Twilight wondered if this was what she felt like to her beloved Applejack… or indeed to the yet-to-be-ascertained Applejack…

Twilight sniffled, and felt Trixie stir. Oh no! Even tied, gagged and being fucked, the sadistic unicorn was still winning? Twilight felt anger coming to her aid. Her fear wasn’t helping her reach a climax—but stimulation, that would be another story. Twilight tried to put her worries out of her mind, and started to move her hips, paying attention to the feel of Trixie’s vagina against her cock, where the pressures and tightnesses were, correlating them with her knowledge of equine anatomy.

As she pulled back for another thrust, Twilight slipped out, feeling Trixie squirm. Damn it! She snarled, bearing down on the bit between her teeth, aiming her hips anxiously, suddenly terrified she’d spooge all over Trixie’s ass—and if she did, would it be a proper test? If the bit failed to blow under those circumstances, would it be valid data? Would she have to do this horrible chore again?

She felt Trixie’s vag winking madly against her cock-head, and with a awkward and sudden thrust of her hips, Twilight plunged back into the pussy of the other unicorn, grinning with bared teeth around the bit, and shoving her stallionhood deep, as deep as she could, finding some kind of bottom to the twisted unicorn’s hole, butting against Trixie’s depths as she writhed and squealed through the gag, and Twilight Sparkle felt herself go hard, her flare expanding with deceptive force, her shaft seeming to swell up as it reached its big moment, as if Twilight’s male superpower had to do with exceptionally emphatic peak hardness… for a moment, Twilight frantically tried to calculate the elastic modulus of pony cock on herself, relative to Applejack, for Applejack’s flare was far bulkier, and hers had been so thin and elegant but it felt like it was prying Trixie apart inside, felt like it was carved from stone, a sculptural…

Twilight came, her mind a tangle of stray thoughts.

She shuddered, feeling the heavy pulsing, the throb as come spurted out of her and into Trixie’s quivering, fevered body… and breathed harshly through her nose, gripping the bit so hard her teeth hurt, allowing the point of the exercise to enter her mind again, her eyes wide… and, as her body began to relax, the last spurt just a gentle oozing of more come into Trixie, and the bit still there, Twilight Sparkle realized she’d won.

“Huh,” she said.

Trixie squirmed, shaking her head back and forth.

“N’h uh!” said Twilight.

Trixie made an anguished noise, and shook her head more, as if refusing to admit her defeat—refusing to admit she’d been proved wrong. Her body clutched at Twilight’s cock, as if trying to drag more orgasm out of her.

“Nuh!” yelled Twilight, past the bit in her teeth. “Y’ see? Y’ see what’s still here in m’ mouth? You lied! You lied, you worthless manipulative bitch, just to get sex! And I fucked you—and I d’nt even like you—and the bit still didn’t explode!”

Trixie writhed. Twilight saw her pleading eye, saw tears, and her rage doubled.

“You lose!” she snarled, past the bit. “You lied! She does love me! And I d’nt love you! And you feel that? I’m still fucking you, you bitch! You feel that still big and hard in you and still there?”

Twilight jabbed with her hips, as Trixie mewled and writhed. She jabbed her cock into Trixie with each word, glaring in triumph, impaling her vengefully.

“How! d’you! like! THAT?”

Trixie shuddered violently at each jab—squealed pitifully—and then, time seemed to stop, as the impossible happened.

Twilight’s eyes flew wide. A jet of magic unicorn come was gushing from Trixie’s horn as she thrashed her head and squalled through the gag. Her pussy was going nuts on Twi’s cock, too, but Twilight knew that wasn’t the main event. Her own horn stayed cool and didn’t so much as flicker, because she wasn’t in love or experiencing a great peak—she’d been hate-fucking to prove a point, and thought she was doing very well, considering what an awful thing it was to be doing.

Twilight fell silent, watching the ‘sadist’ unicorn squirt, for second after second after second, impossibly—Trixie’s body convulsing and bucking against the bed.

It was going on for so long, so terrifyingly long. She knew that feeling. Applejack had caused that feeling, and Applejack had owned her very soul through her tender, powerful, and above all loving lovemaking.

Trixie’s soul apparently answered to a different call, and Twilight had not been nearly as clever as she’d thought—or, Trixie had been more terrifyingly devious than Twilight had ever imagined.

The word ‘switch’ came to mind. It had figured in some of Twilight’s reading on abnormal psychology, when she’d hit the books looking for a way to heal Trixie’s damage. It hadn’t made much sense… then.

As Twilight watched, frozen, Trixie’s orgasm tapered off and stopped.

Five seconds. It had been five goddamn seconds. Trixie had to be exhausted. No unicorn mare could squirt for five seconds, damn it, not even from the love of her life and the most devoted lovemaking…

Or from being mastered, used and owned by a unicorn so greatly her superior?

And who had ever really mastered the Great and Powerful Trixie, much less outdone her, captured her, bound her, humilated her, gagged her, fucked her, and then taunted her in a shameful, vindictive rage, breaking down her spirit in complete earnestness, in the belief that Trixie would never submit… that Trixie had not submitted, was still fighting bitterly?

And who had ever done this right through what had to be Trixie’s switching from dominant to submissive, taking no heed of it, driving her further and further into what the book had called ‘sub-space’, as if the humiliation was unstoppable?

Twilight’s eyes were wide, and she was utterly silent as the pieces fitted together in her head. Yes, she was more powerful than Trixie. She’d sure established that. What she hadn’t bargained on… was what that meant to the unbeatable, unconquerable, seemingly so dominant Trixie.

And she sure didn’t love Trixie, not a bit. She’d meant every word when she said that. She’d raged it in Trixie’s face, exulting in Trixie’s defeat, knowing her Applejack was true and that it had all been lies. She did not love Trixie for that, even as she drove her to the brink.

That had been the final humiliation, one no previous willing lover could’ve delivered…

And she had no idea, absolutely no idea, what to do next.

She’d thought she could fix Trixie’s mental damage?


Trixie’s head moved, feebly, against the bed. Twilight could feel the heat coming off her horn from a foot away. Trixie’s head turned, revealing a tear-drenched eye. Her eye implored, pleaded—it had lost all its fire and was a grovelling pool of desire to please. Twilight could tell that, if Trixie’s mouth had not been gagged, her lip would be quivering. Twilight felt sucked in by Trixie’s self-abasing gaze, but couldn’t look away.

She spit the bit out, and Trixie shuddered as Twilight’s cock shrank and withdrew from her body.

“Oh, Trixie…” said Twilight helplessly.

The blue unicorn didn’t even move. She was a puddle, not just physically but somehow spiritually a puddle, a crawling slave. Twilight knew, without asking, that everything had changed—that Trixie was now bound by more than her hooves. She could untie her and order her to lie there and she’d doubtless do it. There wasn’t a trace of her former hostility.

Twilight Sparkle drew a deep breath.

“I think I understand everything now.”

Trixie couldn’t even blink. She stared in a kind of devoted terror.

“You and I are going to have a long talk later,” said Twilight.

Trixie could hardly breathe. She sank into those strict, violet eyes.

“But for tonight,” said Twilight, “you’re staying right here, like this, with the gag and everything… because I can’t imagine anything you’d be likely to say, that I can even BEGIN to handle, right now…”

As Twilight got unsteadily to her hooves, and began to trudge downstairs, Trixie whimpered, her eyes pleading desperately for some sort of demand or direction, some kind of order to cling to. She felt as if she’d been flung into a whole, unimagined new world, but was still flying through the air, un-caught.

Her new owner turned, looked back, and tears were in those violet eyes—and somehow, to Trixie, that was worse than any sort of abuse, more unbearable than the most harshly expressed disappointment, more painful than the most savage blow.

“I gotta go hit my books again,” said Twilight Sparkle.